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FREDERICK MULLER

London Sydney Auckland JohannesburgFor CAROLINEand for FREDERICK

© Brian Masters 1975, 1977,1980, 1988 All rights reservedFirst published in Great Britain in 1975 byBlond & Briggs Ltd. Second impression withadditional material 1977This revised and updated edition first published inGreat Britain in 1988 by Frederick Muller, an imprintofCentury Hutchinson Ltd, Brookmount House, 62-65Ghandos Place, London WC2N 4NWCentury Hutchinson Australia Pty LtdPO Box 496, 16-22 Church Street, Hawthorn, Victoria3122, Australia

Century Hutchinson New Zealand LimitedPO Box 40-086, Glenfield, Auckland 10, New ZealandCentury Hutchinson South Africa (Pty) Ltd PO Box337, Bergvlei, 2021 South Africa

ISBN O 09 173700 I

British Library Cataloguing in Publication DataMasters, Brian, 1939-The dukes: the origins, ennoblementand history of 26 families. 3rd ed.1. Great Britain, dukes to 1985I. Title3°5-5'223ISBN 0-09-173700-1

Contents

Acknowledgements

Mr E. K. Timings, m.a., f.s.a., Principal AssistantKeeper of the Public Record Office, has assiduouslyread every word of the MS and has made many helpfulsuggestions; I should like his contribution to the bookwhich follows to be acknowledged first. Lady CamillaOsborne has substantially helped to track down somedetails of fact which have proved most useful, andundertook the task of proof reading, for which I amdeeply grateful. I wish particularly to mention MissStevenson of the Scottish National Portrait Gallery,Miss Evans and Miss Wimbush of the National PortraitGallery, Miss Frankland of Ladbrokes Ltd, and Mr J.M. Keyworth of the Second Covent Garden PropertyCo. Ltd, all of whom have remained most helpful inspite of constant enquiries. The staff of the LondonLibrary are unfailingly obliging.

I am grateful to the Duke of Devonshire forpermission to consult the papers in the DevonshireCollections, and to his librarian T. S. Wragg, m.b.e.,t.d., for his guidance through them; also to the Duke ofAtholl, who allowed me to consult his family papers atBlair Castle, to the Duke of Hamilton, for permission tosee the Hamilton Papers currently being catalogued at

the Scottish National Register of Archives, and to theMarquess of Londonderry, for permission to see theLondonderry Papers at Durham County Record Office.The Duke of Buccleuch and the Duke of Newcastlehave both kindly involved themselves in lengthycorrespondence with the author.

Those who have been personally very helpful withinformation include the Duchess of Devonshire, theDuke of Richmond, the Duke and Duchess ofSomerset, the Duke of St Albans, the Duke ofBedford, the Duke of Hamilton, the Duke of Argyll, theDuke of Atholl, the Duke of Northumberland, K.G., theMarquess of Tavistock, the Marquess of Kildare, theCountess of Sutherland, and Mr Charles Janson. To allI should like here to express my gratitude.

For allowing me to take their time and plunder theirknowledge I am indebted to Francis W. Steer, m.a.,f.s.a., archivist to the Duke of Norfolk; J. N. R. James,Esq., Managing Trustee of the Grosvenor Estates;Michael Hanson, Esq.; and those descendants of theDuke of Somerset in the St Maur line - Mr Edward StMaur, Mr Joseph Hoare, and Mrs G. Kemmis-Betty.

Permission to use photographs of pictures in public

collections and in private hands is gratefullyacknowledged with each illustration, and due credit islikewise recorded to the photographers. I am alsohappy to record my thanks to various authors whohave allowed me to quote from their works, specified inreference notes at the end of each chapter, and I trustthey will accept this collective appreciation. Mrs CecilWoodham-Smith in particular has been most generousin allowing me the freedom of her personal library.

The patience and industry of Mrs Diana Steer, whotyped the manuscript, deserve to be recorded in rose-banks, and the generosity of the Marquess ofLondonderry, who enabled me to write the final draft athis home in Co. Cleveland in the most peacefulconditions, is something for which gratitude seemswoefully inadequate.

B.M.Wynyard, 1975Preface to 1988 Edition

In 1972 Anthony Blond made a bold suggestion.There had never, he said, been a book devoted to thehistory of all surviving dukedoms following each family

from the date of creation to the present day in onevolume. Many dukes were well known to historybecause they had been Prime Minister, or had wonfamous battles, or had distinguished themselves in someother way in the service of their country. A few wereknown for their slightly dotty per sonalities. Thereremained scores of other dukes whose lives languishedunexamined in archive rooms and who perhapsdeserved to be restored to their place in the geneticflow. Blond invited me to undertake the task of puttingthem all together and tracing family characteristicswhich persisted, sometimes obliquely, through manygenerations, and I spent the next three years in agloriously eclectic ramble through five hundred years ofhistory. Though intended to be informative andentertaining, The Dukes has, since it first appeared in1975, earned a gratifying reputation as a work ofreference. It is for this reason that the reader might liketo be acquainted with events which have occurredsince the main text was published twelve years ago.The second edition of 1980 made some amendments inadded footnotes; in some cases these too are out ofdate and have required revision. There are still twenty-

six dukes (who will reduce to twenty-four in the nextgeneration), but we now have a new Duke ofSomerset, a new Duke of Beaufort, a new Duke ofPortland, and a new Duke of Manchester. The youngDuke of Roxburghe now has an infant son and heir(Marquess of Bowmont and Cessford), while hisalmost as young brother-in-law the Duke ofWestminster still has not; until that day comes, he willremain potentially the last duke of the Grosvenorfamily. Further more, Elizabeth II's son Prince Andrewwas created Duke of York one hour after his marriageto Sarah Ferguson in 1986. As a royal duke, he iswithout the scope of this book, although his grandsonwill fall within it when he inherits the title seventy oreighty years from now; even so, he has a tangentialrelevance in that he is reported to have proposedmarriage to Miss Ferguson while staying at FloorsCastle with the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe.HRH The Duke of York may also justly be creditedwith an encouraging influence over the pages whichfollow, as the enthusiasm generated by his weddingkindled a whole new interest in the subject of dukes,their descent and their position in the land.

The twenty-six non-royal dukes are stillworking, ruminating, managing estates andavoiding attention much as before. Theyshare, for the most part, an ineradicableshyness, of which there are manyextravagant examples in the pages thatfollow, and prefer not to be noticed by anysave their family, and dependants. Somesuc ceed better than others. The Duke ofDevonshire is constantly in the news,much to his chagrin, not only because hehas embraced the responsibilitiesattendant upon his station by acceptingonerous public duties, but because theDuchess's formidable family (the Mitfords)has been the subject of half a dozen booksin the last twelve years as well as a musicalstage version of their early years together.There is, of course, nothing a Duchess cando to deflect fame of this sort; it is thepenalty of having a clutch of uncommonsisters. She has herself written a history ofChatsworth, called The House, which isquite the most entertaining account so farwritten, and incidentally has revealed herto be as gifted with words as her sistersNancy, Jessica and Diana. For his part, theduke has achieved the impossible bysecuring the future of Chatsworth for

generations to come in the face ofmountains of legislation designed toprevent landowners passing on anythingat all. That will be his enduringaccomplishment, and one of which he willhave every right to be proud.

The Duke of Rutland has won a longbattle to deter prospectors fromundermining Belvoir Castle and destroyingone of the last oases of pristine beauty inthe country, earning the gratitude ofpeople who live there if not that of peoplewho think progress a virtue whatever thecost. The Duke of St Albans, living in thesouth of France, has been gratified towatch his grandson Lord Vere, a student atHertford College, Oxford, grow towards asharing of his own conviction (supportedby some academics) that the family isdescended from the man who really wroteShakespeare's plays - the last de Vere Earlof Oxford. We may expect to see aresurrection of this literary mystery whenhe eventually becomes Duke.

The heir to the Duke of Fife, LordMacduff, has adopted the ducal style wellahead of time. Working in the City of

London, he has been known to strike anassembled company of stockbrokers withawe at his approach. There is somethingstill to be said for the view I firstpromulgated twelve years ago, that whenone is in the presence of a duke one isaware that he is set apart from othermembers of the nobility - a giant in themagnificence of his ancestry, in thesplendour of his genetic luggage, in thedistinction of his manner. It is no accidentthat dukes take precedence overgovern ment ministers, envoys andbishops.

Brian Masters London,1988

Introduction

The title of duke is the rarest honour which the Crownmay bestow on a person not of royal blood. It is next tothe Crown itself in degree,

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above every other subject in the realm, including thosewho hold dignities of much greater antiquity in thepeerage, such as earls and barons, in existence longbefore the first duke was created 651 years ago. Theyare addressed officially by the monarch as "right trustyand entirely beloved cousins", and by everyone else as"Your Grace". They are the only peers whose titlecannot be disguised by a generic style of address;whereas the Marquess of Anglesey, the Earl ofLich field, Viscount Cowdray and Baron Teviot arelevelled to the same degree in conversation as "LordAnglesey", "Lord Lichfield", "Lord Cowdray", and"Lord Teviot", a duke is never a lord, always the "Dukeof Such-and-such", and they would address each other,unless they were related or close, as "Duke". Theirspecial status has allowed them to preserve an aurawhich even today can make the rest of us if not trembleat least defer with some inherited sense of hierarchy.

The aura is now all that is left of the privileges attachedto a dukedom, once so extensive as to paralyse theimagination. They are not even all aristocrats any more.None, it is true, can claim to have emerged from theworking class; there have been no trade-uniondukedoms created in the twentieth century, nor evenany granted to the get-rich-quick boys in the propertyworld. Some of the dukes, however, have a trickle ofworkmen's blood in their veins, due to some bizarremarriages in the past, and of the twenty-six still going,half a dozen are invincibly middle-class.

In common with other peers until thereforms of the nineteenth century, thedukes enjoyed privileges which seemscarcely credible. They were above thelaw. They could commit crime and escapethe jurisdiction of the courts; no one couldarrest them; they could run up debts toinfinity without punishment; they hadcontrol of Parliament, many seats in theHouse of Commons being within the gift ofa handful of noblemen, especially thedukes; they were the government of theland, in fact if not in appearance; theywere England. "Flattered, adulated,deferred to, with incomes enormously

increased by the Industrial Revolution,and as yet untaxed, all- powerful over atenantry as yet unenfranchised, subject tono ordinary laws, holding the governmentof the country firmly in their hands andwielding through their closely-knitconnections an unchallengeable socialpower, the milords of England were theastonishment and admiration of Europe."1

All this has thankfully gone. There is not a duke alivetoday who would wish for a return of such subservienceor would attempt to justify such power. Gone, too, aresome of the more absurd accoutre ments of a ducal life- the personal trumpeter to announce one's presence,the retinue of personal servants, sometimes well over ahundred individuals, the pomposity of privilege. Themodern dukes would not dare indulge in the antics oftheir forbears - requiring other people to wind theirwatches for them, or to hand them their dinner-plateswearing white kid gloves - for fear of being laughed toscorn. Yet some such habits have continued until withinthe last twenty years. The late Duke of Portland couldtalk of having bought a Rolls-Royce "off the peg" inNewcastle without the consciousness of humour. Many

of the houses in which dukes live still have a personalstaff of up to twenty persons, including cooks, butler,valet, "nanny", and chars, although such a staff nolonger makes them singular - foreign ambassadors fromcommunist countries can employ more.

Twenty of the dukes live in beautiful houses built at atime when the English aesthetic sense was at its mostdeveloped, houses far too big for them, in parks andgrounds of ravishing beauty. One has chosen a nomadiclife - the Duke of Bedford; two have exiledthem selves to Africa - Manchester and Montrose; onelives in a flat in Monte Carlo - Duke of St Albans, andanother in a house in Lymington - Duke of Newcastle;the late Duke of Leinster used to rent a room in Hove.Of the others, nine own more land than the Queen. TheCrown estates have about 1,800,000 acres, which theQueen surrenders to the State in return for the CivilList, money she needs to run the royal households. As aprivate landowner, the Queen has only 40,000 acres atBalmoral and 7000 acres at Sandringham. In contrast,the Duke of Buccleuch has 250,000 acres, the Duke ofAtholl 120,000, the Dukes of Northumberland andArgyll 80,000 each, and the Duke of Westminster

owns a quarter of central London. The dukes have off-loaded thousands of acres since World War I, but whatthey have left is worth as much as it ever was, with therise in agricultural land values. On paper at least, nearlyall of them are millionaires in terms of their assets. Asfor cash in hand it is quite another story.

Before the beginning of the twentiethcentury the cost of being a duke, ofmaintaining the estate to the benefit of alltenants, of living in the lavish style whichwas expected of a duke, was prohibitive.The Marquess of Worcester, grandfatherto the 1st Duke of Beaufort, wrote : "SinceI was a Marquess I am worse by onehundred thousand pounds, and if I shouldbe a duke, I should be an arrant beggar."2

To obviate such noble penury, it wascustomary when creating a duke to givehim money enough to live like one; thehonour was hollow without the cash.Nowadays the running of an estate is socomplex an affair, with farm economics andlegislation, that it is above the heads ofmost dukes, who have therefore handedover the management of their affairs to aBoard of Trustees, with expert advice frombusinessmen, and accept in return an

allowance from the estate. The landowningduke can no longer afford to be adilettante; he must be professional or sink.The most successful estates are thosewherein the Duke has accepted his newrole as Chairman of the Trustees. In thecase of Bedford, the Duke made a successof the Woburn estates in spite of advicefrom the trustees; he proved himself, ineffect, a better manager than they, thoughat the cost of methods not universallyapplauded.

Other shadows of privileges which theystill retain include the likelihood of beingconsidered for one of the great Offices ofState. The Earl Marshalship has beenhereditary in the House of Howard since1672, but the office of Lord Steward,merged with the Crown since Henry IV, isappointed pro hac vice by the Sovereign.The current Steward is the Duke ofNorthumberland. The office originallyconsisted in placing the dishes on thelord's table at solemn feasts ("and cleaningout the fireplace, I think," said the Duke),but now it consists in announcing theQueen's guests on Great State Occasions.The Royal House of Stuart derived itsname from the hereditary tenure of this

office in Scotland, as the Butlers (Earls andMarquesses of Ormonde) were originallybutlers to the monarch of Ireland.8

Dukes have always been high in the listof Knights of the Garter, the family of theDuke of Norfolk providing no less thantwenty-four members (or thirty-five if youcount the allied branches of Mowbray andFitzalan as well as the Howards), closelyfollowed by the family of Cavendish. Ofthe eleven Dukes of Devonshire in thisfamily, the

first ten all had the Garter. Today, three dukes areK.G. - Grafton, Northumberland, and Norfolk.

All dukes have the right to a coronet, on which areeight gold strawberry leaves, and a cape edged withstoat with black tails. Only on great State occasions,such as a Coronation, are these items now removedfrom the wardrobe, and a few of the dukes don't havethem at all and are obliged to hire them. Even they mayretain the favour of being addressed as "Your Grace",but some prefer to discourage it. A little boy wasintroduced to the Duke of Sutherland, whom headdressed as "Sir", to the consternation of his proud

father, who dug him in the ribs and loudly whispered"Your Grace"; the boy looked the Duke in the eye andsaid, "For what we are about to receive may the Lordmake us truly thankful."4

More often than not, while the privileges have beeneroded, the responsibilities for which they were in someway a recompense have remained. Not that theseresponsibilities extend to an active involve ment ingoverning the country; only Buccleuch, Portland, andDevonshire have held political office, the first twobefore they came to the title. There was a time whenalmost every duke was in politics; the Russells (Dukesof Bedford) have had a connection with the House ofCommons for nearly 500 years, and the Cavendishes(Dukes of Devonshire) have always been political, froma sense of duty rather than predilection, as a naturalreturn for the privilege of rank. The last duke to bePrime Minister was Wellington in 1828, but before himthere were the Duke of Portland (1783 and 1807-9),the Duke of Grafton (11767-70), the Duke ofNewcastle (1754-6 and 1757—62) and the Duke ofDevonshire for eight months from November 1756 toJuly 1757.

The responsibilities that have remained are those of alandowner towards his tenantry, and towards the housein which he lives, often so beautiful as to be a nationalmonument but to which the nation pays no contribution,towards the inheritance of which he is the guardian. Afew have abnegated and abandoned their estate, notwithout reason, for they did not ask to be born to suchresponsibilities, and undeniably find life easier withoutthem. They prefer to construct their own future. Most,however, hang on in the face of public misunderstandingand political prejudice, knowing that some dark force,as strong as the blood in their veins, commands them todo their best for the estate which they have been given.They are "men with few of the average man'sopportunities, men who cannot rise but can onlydescend in the social scale, men condemned to eternalpublicity, whose private lives are seldom their own.Men who may live only where their grandfathers havechosen and where the public expects. Men hamstrungby an inherited amateur status, to whom barely aprofession is open. Men limited by the responsibilitiesof too large an income."5 Some, like the Duke ofRichmond, have successfully over come the

disadvantage of title by seeking the "average man'sopportunities" as an average man: he worked on thefactory floor to learn about engineering, then learnedbusiness techniques to make his Goodwood estate self-sufficient, with the result that his experience transcendsall class divisions. Others, like the Duke of Somerset,have managed somehow to live a private life in a smallcountry house without anyone appearing to realise thathe exists.

Many dukes, however, like Sebastian in TheEdwardians, have simply to face the limitations of theirposition : "Sebastian, condemned by the verycircumstance of his situation to be nothing more, ever,than a commonplace young man; as commonplace as aking; for even his rebellions, were he to rebel, must beon ordained lines; there was nothing for him to rebelagainst, except his own good fortune, and that was athing he could never evade ... all these things were tiedon to him like so many tin cans to the tail of a poor cat.With them went the romance of his whole make-up.Poor Sebastian, condemned to be romantic;condemned always to be romantically commonplace!What were the wild oats of such a young man? An

inevitable crop, sown by his bad godmother at hischristening. Not sown even by his own hand, butanticipated on his behalf. Poor Sebastian, his traditionswere not only inherited, they were also prophetic. Theystretched both ways. It was an unfair handicap."8

The large country estate, with the house as its pivot,was (and is) a peculiarly English affair. In many ways itwas a perfect example in miniature of the welfare state,self-sufficient and self-protecting, with every member ofthe "family", from shepherds to carpenters to kitchen-maids, provided for from cradle to grave. Of course, itwas capricious, depending as it did upon the personalityof the Duke at its centre; should he choose to be mean(the nineteenth-century Duke of Newcastle springs tomind), the mini-welfare state collapsed. For the mostpart, however, people who lived on these estates hadtheir births, clothes, education, health, weddings andfunerals paid for.

Where, anyway, has this handful of families comefrom? What makes their status so special? In the firstplace, there have always been very few of them. Thetitle of duke is granted the least often. Now there aretwenty-six, but there have been times when there were

only two or three. The most there has been at one timewas forty, at the end of George I's reign, descending tothirty-one by 1930. Two or three more are likely to beextinct by the end of the century, reducing the total totwenty-three. There have been none (except royal)created since 1900, and there are not likely to be anymore.

The first dukedom in England was created in 1337,when Edward III made his son the Black Prince Dukeof Cornwall. This is now hereditary in the heir to thethrone. Shortly afterwards the dukedom of Lancasterwas also merged with the throne. The title of duke isnot indigenous in England. In the Roman Empire therehad been the dux, a leader or general, whence ourword derives through the French due, which came to uswith the Conquest. The Norman kings styledthem selves Dukes of Normandy and Aquitaine inFrance, and were understandably jealous of creating atitle in England equal in rank to one of their own. So270 years had to pass before the first English manbecame a duke in 1337, and he was of royal blood. Adukedom of Suffolk was twice created, in 1448 and1514, and Richard II created six dukes in one day, on

29th September 1397, but none survived two years.The first non-royal duke to last was Norfolk in 1473,followed by Somerset, bestowed by Edward Seymourupon himself in 1547 in the name of his ward, the infantKing Edward VI. Thereafter, the title was so rarelygranted, and so regularly pruned by beheadings andattainders, that there were no dukes at all in England forthirty years after the execution of the Duke of Norfolkin 1572 (and no non-royal dukes for even longer).

Dukedoms proliferated in the seventeenth andeighteenth centuries, dwindling to a handful of freshcreations in the nineteenth. The oldest of these isHamilton, created by Charles I in 1643, and the prizefor quantity must go to Charles II, who created twenty-six dukes, including five nephews, two mistresses, andsix bastard sons as well as the unrelated Duke ofBeaufort. Five of his creations survive. Of the otherswhich continue today, William and Mary areresponsible for Bedford (1694), Devonshire (1694)and Argyll (1701). Queen Anne created Marlborough(1702), Rutland (1703), Atholl (1703), Montrose(1707), Roxburghe (1707), and Brandon (1711);George I created Portland (1716) and Manchester

(1719); George II, Newcastle (1756). The Dukes ofNorthumberland and Leinster were both created in1766 by George III, who honoured Wellington in1814. William IV created only one duke, Sutherland in1833, while Queen Victoria introduced four newcreations, Abercorn (1868), Westminster (1874),Gordon (11876) and Fife (1889), plus two duplicationsin Argyll (1892) and Fife again (1900). It is commonknowledge that Winston Churchill was offered adukedom by the present Queen, but respectfullydeclined.

In all, less than 500 individuals have hadthe right to call them selves Duke (or suojure Duchess) in the 651 years since thefirst creation.7

The titles chosen do not always bear aclose relation to the county or town wherethe grantee lives or holds land. The Dukeof Devon shire, for example, has nolandholding in Devon, but 72,000 acres inDerbyshire. The Duke of Norfolk hasproperty in Sheffield and land in Sussexand Yorkshire, but precious little inNorfolk. The Duke of Richmond's land is inSussex, and the Duke of Rutland's in

Nottinghamshire. The Duke of St Albanshad nothing to do with the town of thatname, and the Duke of Sutherland ownsnot an acre in that county. The Duke ofManchester has hardly been nearManchester. On the other hand, the Dukesof Northumberland, Bedford, Argyll,Atholl, Roxburghe, are all firmly seated inthe counties from which they take theirtitles, and Westminster in the City whichhis ancestors made so elegant.

Further complications arise when you consider thatthere is not one peerage system into which these twenty-six individuals fit, but five. There used to be just threeseparate peerages - of England, of Scotland, and ofIreland - until the union of England and Scotland in 1707,forming Great Britain and establishing peers of that newentity, and then the union of Great Britain and Ireland,forming the United Kingdom in 1801, giving us a fifthpeerage. It may help to have a list showing how thedukes divide :

Dukes of England Norfolk (1483)Somerset (1547)Richmond (1675)Grafton (1675)Beaufort (1682)

St Albans (1684)Bedford (1694)Devonshire (1694)Marlborough (1702)Rutland (1703)Dukes of Scotland Hamilton (1643)Buccleuch (1663)

Argyll (1701)

Atholl (1703)

Montrose (1707)

Roxburghe (1707)

( plus Lennox, 1675, and Queensberry, 1684, heldrespectively by the Dukes of Richmondand Buccleuch).

Dukes of Great Britain

Portland (1716)

Manchester (1719)

Newcastle (1756

Northumberland (1766

(plus Brandon, 1711, held by the Duke ofHamilton).

Dukes of Ireland

Leinster (1766)

Abercorn (1868)

Dukes of the United Kingdom

Wellington (1814)Sutherland (1833)

Westminster (1874)(

Fife (1900)

(plus Gordon, 1876, held by the Duke of Richmond, and Argyll,1892, held by the already Scottish Duke of Argyll).

This list is also useful in so far as itreproduces the strict order of precedenceof the dukes, in the pyramid of hierarchyin England at the peak of which sits theQueen. Above the dukes are only fivemale members of the Royal Family in directline of succession, the Archbishops ofCanterbury and York, the Prime Minister,Lord High Chancellor, Lord President ofthe Council, Speaker of the House ofCommons, Lord Privy Seal, and HighCommissioners and ambassadors. Thequestion of precedence has given muchvexation to the duchesses (most of thedukes could not give a damn), and, as weshall see, has provided entertaining funand games over the years. As dukes ofEngland take precedence above dukes ofall four other peerages, the Duke ofRutland goes before the Duke of Hamilton,whose title is older and whose pride, in thelast 200 years, has been more easilyinjured. It also means that the Duke ofAbercorn, whose family has not been

particularly active, takes precedenceabove Wellington, the saviour of hiscountry, and whose title is older by somefifty years, because Abercorn's dukedomis in the peerage of Ireland, andWellington's only in the peerage of theUnited Kingdom.

It is a commonplace that dukes are boring. "Howdull! Bless me! We are eleven of us, Dukes andDuchesses, and most dukefully dull we are," wroteSarah Spencer when she accompanied Queen Victoriaon a visit to Woburn Abbey in 1841.8 That may havebeen true in the presence of the Queen, but they mustall have been behaving quite out of character. Some ofthe dukes and duchesses who fill these pages are forthe most part, supremely un-dull, they are bizarre,intransigent, naively selfish, eccentric, monumentallyself-confident, and with a strong streak of delinquencyin their natures. They are the kind of people who,placed on stage in a modern play, would have to bewritten down to be made credible. Of course there areexceptions - there have been and still are, shy dukeswhose ancestors have used up all the self-confidence in

the family genes and left none for them; there have beensome who were malleable, ordinary - but it is tedious toqualify with exceptions all the time, and one is justifiedin attempting certain common characteristics, shared bymost dukes at one time or another.

Their delinquency has enabled them to plungeindomitably through life with no regard for anything butthe expression of their large personalities, with no needto question motives, and in the knowledge that no onewill ask them to explain themselves. They do not lookover their shoulders, nor even to the side, nor do theymake allowances; they do not need to cultivateimagination - that is for others. With self-confidence astheir shield, they can be rude, downright, rough,interfering, frank. They say what they mean and meanwhat they say. They can be sulky and critical, obedientto moods rather than opinions, moods of sweepingintensity and terrifying instability. They are easilyirritated, and do not flinch from showing it. If theywanted to spit, they spat; duchesses could scratch theirbacks, and dukes their crutches, with impunity, becausethere was no one to tell them not to. This is not to saythat dukes behave as boorishly as this paragraph

suggests, but it does mean that the streak ofimpudence, of let's-see-what-we-can-get-away-withprankishness, and of sheer block- bustering obduracy,are strong enough in the inheritance for them to betempted to respond in like manner, and for one to catchglimpses in them of ancestral arrogance.

What else ? There is a rich vein oflunacy in many a ducal house.

I know that there is plenty of evidence of madnessamong dustmen or stockbrokers, and do not wish tolabour the point, but when you consider that there havebeen mentally unstable people in the families of Howard(Dukes of Norfolk), Beauclerk (Dukes of St Albans),Hamilton (which affects the Dukes of Hamilton andDukes of Abercorn), Murray (Dukes of Atholl),Fitzgerald (Dukes of Leinster), Cavendish-Bentinck(Dukes of Portland), Russell (Dukes of Bedford), andmost recently Grosvenor (Dukes of Westminster), yousee that over a third of the ducal families have borne thetaint, and some descendants may still do. Of the othertwo-thirds, almost all have produced at least one dukewhose eccentricities were so bizarre as to make his

sanity questionable. I think it is safe to say that this issomewhat above the national average, and must bearsome examination. The simplest explanation lies inpersistent intermar riage, but I suspect there is a lessdemonstrable cause in that delinquency mentionedearlier, in the pure self-indulgence in which dukes havealways been encouraged and which occasionally hastoppled over the edge of civilised normality. Left to doas we please, we would all indulge those whimsicalfantasies we privately nurture, and when we found thatno one was there to contain us, we could with easerelease ourselves totally from reality. This is whathappened to the 5th Duke of Portland, and to many ofthe Dukes of Bedford. With others, however, theimbecility has been medical in character.

On the other hand, the mysteries of geneticinheritance are such that intermarriage between relationscan often be beneficial, by preserving and repeating astrain of especial brilliance, or, even better, bycombining two such strains which are themselves theproduct of four previous brilliant people. The result isthat the number of remarkable men and womenproduced by ducal families is also far in excess of the

national average. There are, for instance, no ordinaryRussells; they have either been brilliant politicians,splendid speakers, stylish writers, or something hasgone wrong and they have turned out bizarre andeccentric. The Cavendish family has produced scoresof men with splendid intelligence and wisdom, withpolitical sagacity, or simply with style. There is morethan a fair share of great people among the Churchills,the Howards, the Grosvenors, and the Percys, whilethe family of the Duke of Richmond, producing oneadmirable person after another in almost unbrokensuccession, is practically an advertisement for thebenefits of keeping marriage within a small circle ofproven ability.

Reserve is another common characteristic of onlyrecent evolution. Over the last 150 years it has becomethe norm for dukes decently to abstain from publicity.The rule has taken some hard knocks from the Duke ofBedford, the late Duke of Leinster, and the late Dukeof Argyll, but otherwise a "low profile" is still generallyobserved.

Some dukes, while dispensingtremendous generosity to tenants anddependants, have been curiously mean to

family and friends. For this I can find noexplanation, but it occurs frequentlyenough, in up to half the ducal families, towarrant notice. No one can surpass theDukes of Marlborough in this respect,while it has happened so often in theDukes of Somerset that the present Dukehas been left with only the bricks andmortar of his ancestral home, the rest ofhis inheritance having been hived off ordispersed by his ancestors. "What willyou do with your money when you die?" afriend asked a miserly nobleman. "Youhave no children and you can't take it withyou, and if you could it would melt."9

Heirs to a dukedom were generallyeducated to a spartan life, with appallingnursery food, and little, if any, parentalaffection. This was supposed to teachthem self-reliance, but more often it hadthe effect of breeding those eccentricitieswhich the adult developed in seeking togratify all those desires denied him ininfancy. One Duke of Manchester, forexample, was fed on porridge for breakfast,bullock's heart and potatoes for lunch,bread and milk for tea.10 Is it any wonderhe should grow into a selfish luxuriant?

The 1st Duke of Hamilton in adulthoodslept every night in nightshirt, nightcap,bedsocks and night cravat, in a reddamask bed heated by a warming-pan. "Heslept on the suffocating softness of afeather mattress, between linen sheets,beneath anything from two to six pairs ofblankets and two or three quilts. He sleptin a propped-up position on bolsters andpillows, and of course he slept with thecurtains of his bed pulled tightly shut."11

There was also a coal fire burning in thebedroom, all of which might seem absurduntil one remembers that the Duke wasprobably over-compensating for achildhood in which he all but froze todeath.

Nor were the heirs told, in some cases,what lay in their future. The present Dukeof Bedford had no idea he was related tothe then Duke, let alone that he was hiseventual heir, until a maid told him whenhe was sixteen. (He had never been toschool, and so had escaped exposure tothe teasing of friends, which would haverevealed the truth of his position.) Thepresent Duke of Newcastle admits that thefact he might one day be a duke was never

discussed in the family and he never gaveit a thought. In contrast, when the heir hasbeen a distant cousin long since divorcedfrom the main line of descent ("what wetactfully call a kinsman," says the Duke ofSomerset), he and his family seem to havethought of little else. Such was the casewith the Duke of St Albans, who hadalways been made conscious that he stooda chance of inheriting the dukedom,although a substantial genealogical detourwas necessary for him to do so.

Two obsessions have united all ducal familieswithout exception, at least up to World War I, and insome cases beyond it - marriage and rank, and theformer was merely a way of ensuring that the latter wasmaintained. Marriage dominated the conversation ofduchesses for two centuries. That the heir to adukedom should marry went without saying; it wouldbe fantasy to suggest otherwise. If he didn't care forwomen, tant pis, he must grit the stone between histeeth and get on with it. Whom he should marry wasthe abiding question. It ought to be the daughter ofanother duke, so that rank would not be diluted, andmore often than not it was. The Duchess of Baden

visited England in 1829 in order to find a husband forher daughter. She had eyes on the Duke of Buccleuch,but hesitated because he had only three dukedoms,which she erroneously supposed would go to the firstthree sons of the marriage, while the fourth would haveno alternative but to go into the Church.12 Occasionallyan earl's daugh ter would insinuate herself into thisprivate club and become a duchess, and even lessfrequently an untitled lady, or buzz buzz, a foreigner.The result of this vast incestuous dance, with dukesonly marrying other dukes' daughters, to whom theywere probably related in some way already, is thattoday all twenty-six dukes are related to each other.Some are now distant, but a quarter of them, eventoday, are close relatives, brothers-in-law, uncles,cousins to each other.

Of course, marriages were not made for love. Sucha word was beneath their ducal consideration. Whenthe Duke of Portland saw Miss Dallas-Yorke waitingfor a train at Worksop station, fell in love with her onsight, and made her his duchess, he was not behavingvery ducally. But then she was suitable anyway.Another lucky couple were the Duke and Duchess of

Richmond in the eighteenth century, married in theiradolescence to satisfy parental debts; they hated eachother on sight, but re-met and fell in love two yearsafterwards. For the most part, marriage was like amove in a chess game, except that the partners wereobliged, whether they liked it or not, to produce an heirsomehow. Many would have been well advised tofollow the example of John Spencer, who, presentedwith a list of eligible ladies drawn up by hisgrandmother Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, inalphabetical order, simply pointed to the first on the listbeginning with a C, and that was the end of the matter.Her name was Cartaret, they were married, and itworked, in so far as such marketing can work. As longas rank was protected, and money was obtained insufficient quantities to support that rank, infideli tiesafter marriage were taken for granted. "What's that?"screamed the Duchess. "A painter? What painter?Who ever heard of such a thing? Sylvia Roehampton'sdaughter to marry a painter? But of course she won't.You marry Tony Wexford and we'll see what can bedone about the painter afterwards."13

Double standards like this have protected the ducal

families from total imbecility, for, indeed, had theycontinued to marry each other without the injection ofsome different blood, it is doubtful that any could havesurvived as sane humanity. In fact, there were manywho were not their father's sons at all; this was tacitlyknown, accepted, and even applauded, as well it mightbe. Applauded or not, it is the inevitable result ofmarriage as a cold business proposition. It was gossipthat some of the children of Violet, Duchess of Rutland,were fathered by different men. The Duke ofSutherland is possibly descended from an adulterousliaison which, if anyone cared to think about it or if itwere true would deprive him in theory of the dukedom.Jane, Duchess of Gordon, who married three of herdaughters to drunken dukes, married the fourth to theheir of Lord Cornwallis, but not without some difficulty.Cornwallis objected to the match because there wassaid to be madness in the Gordons. The Duchessreassured him: "I understand that you object to mydaughter marrying your son on account of the insanity inthe Gordon family: now I can solemnly assure you thatthere is not a single drop of Gordon blood in herveins."14

Lady Anne Foley wrote to her husband: "DearRichard, I give you joy. I have just made you father of abeautiful boy. Yours etc. P.S. This is not a circular."15

The question of rank has bestirred dukes andduchesses more than anything else, and to a certainextent still does. In a way, they should be countedinferior to earls and barons, who represent much olderEnglish aristocracy. Only the marquesses are of morerecent import than the dukes. But since the first duke(the Black Prince) was the son of the king, he naturallytook precedence over the earls, who were hardly in aposition to complain. When the first non-royal dukewas created, and he too took precedence over theearls, there were some small stirrings of resentment, butthe custom was already established and would havebeen difficult to overturn. Since then, the dukes havesometimes descended to absurd levels in order to leteveryone know their precedence. The Duke ofDevonshire thought himself bound to appear at theraces with a coach-and-six and twelve outriders, andcould scarce contain his fury when Lord Fitzwilliam, ofinferior rank, appeared with two coaches and sixteenoutriders.16 There have been many arguments as to

precedence, on which the House of Lords has beencalled to decide. The earliest known instance is adispute between Baron Grey and Baron Beaumont(ancestor of the present Duke of Norfolk) in 1405.Coming up to the twentieth century, the Duke ofManchester displayed no signs that he was conscious ofpleasantry when he challenged Prince Willie ofGermany to a duel. "I offered to give him suitablereparation in Germany," he said "knowing that my ownquarterings were sufficiently high to permit him to fight aduel without loss of prestige."17

In fairness to the dukes, it must be admitted that itwas the duchesses, rather than they, who were mostpreoccupied with precedence. They developed thesubtleties of rank to a fine art which, viewed fromoutside, had all the charm of a stately gavotte, yet all theabsurdity of a farce. The Duke of Bedford remembersseeing the Duchess of Buccleuch and the Duchess ofNorthumberland sidling through the door together intheir determination not to give prece dence to theother.18 The Duchess of Marlborough, who came fromthe United States as Consuelo Vanderbilt and hadsuddenly to learn the intricacies of precedence from one

day to the next, said that she was always glad to knowher own number in the order so that she would notmake a mistake entering or leaving a room out of turn.She once waited at her own dining-room door to allowolder women to pass through, and received a furiouspush from an irate marchioness who loudly claimed thatit was just as vulgar to hang back as to leave beforeone's turn.19 Lady Barrington said to Lady SarahLennox, daughter of the Duke of Richmond, when itwas commonly expected that Lady Sarah would marryKing George III, "Do, my dear Lady Sarah, let me takethe lead and go in before you this once, for you willnever have another opportunity of seeing my beautifulback."20 The Duchess of Cleveland reproached aneager young man who tried to help by pulling herservant's bell for her to indicate that luncheon was over."Sir, officiousness is not politeness," she said veryslowly and forcibly.21 Consuelo Vanderbilt attributedthis ridiculous behaviour to an "enthroned fetish", andshe was probably right, though I suspect boredomplayed a part. Duchesses had little else to worry about.After she had gained some confidence in this curious

Lilliputian world, Consuelo enjoyed mischievouslyupsetting the applecart, ever so gently, when given thechance. She tells how she observed the Duchess ofBuccleuch at a rehearsal in Westminster Abbey for agreatState occasion. The Duchess was "very much aware ofthe dignity of her rank and position. When ourhousekeeper, superb in black satin, was ushered to aseat beside her, I viewed with apprehension hersurprised reaction; for never could she have supposedthat anyone less than a Duchess would share her pew,and vainly did she try to place this new arrival amongthe twenty-seven ducal families she prided herself onknowing."22

A few years later, at the Coronation of Edward VII,four duchesses were chosen to hold the canopy aboveQueen Alexandra. Historically, this part of theceremony was to shield the Queen from public gaze ata time when both King and Queen had to be strippedto the waist for the annointing. Like so much else that istraditional, the cause has gone and the symbol remains.The four ladies were Duchesses of Portland,Marlborough, Montrose and Sutherland, and to avoid

complicated fuss, they were referred to in rehearsal as"1, 2, 3 and 4", with no nonsense about dignity.23

Isabella, Duchess of Manchester, took a non-ducalperson for her second husband and so difficult did shefind the adjustment to a lower rank that she actuallypetitioned the King to grant him a peerage dignity.24

That station has not entirely disappeared from oursystem of hierarchies was demonstrated as recently as1963 when the Queen granted to Mr Grosvenor, heirpresumptive to his brother the 4th Duke ofWestminster, the rank, style and precedence of the sonof a duke, although he was no such thing. A secondarypreoccupation for the dukes has been the antiquity oftheir ancestry, reaching a summit of caprice in thenineteenth century (although the Dukes of Norfolk werealready getting into trouble for boasting about theirancestry some 400 years before). It becamefashionable for all dukes to be descended fromcompanions of the Conqueror, so they employedsubservient genealogists to manufacture family treeswhich proved such descent. Unhappy with their Englishsurnames, they sought to claim a romantic origin forwhich there was no real evidence. Thus the Duke of

Bedford tried to show that his name Russell wasderived from a Norman called "de Rosel", andSeymour, Duke of Somerset, demonstrated that hisname was an anglicisation of "St Maur". The Duke ofLeinster, whose family was old enough as it was, said aFlorentine family called "Gherardini" was the origin ofFitzgerald, the Duke of Manchester that "Monte Acuto"was the ancestor of Montagu. This practice naturallybrought genealogy into contempt, since deliberateinvention was not excluded as a means to establishingthese pedigrees. In fact, only a few of the English dukescan irrefutably trace their lines to the twelfth century,such as Westminster (the Grosvenors), Leinster (theFitzgeralds), Beaufort (the Somersets), and, throughtwo female digressions, Northumberland (the Percys).Some of the Scottish dukes, like Argyll (the Campbells)and Atholl (the Murrays), are undeniably older still,though shadowy. Nowadays, just as most dukes payscant attention to who walks first into or out of a room,so many of them know no more about their ancestrythan what they can find in Debrett or Burke.

All this is trivial compared with their real monument,achieved almost without trying, which has been to

enrich the country's artistic heritage. Dukes have hadtaste, and the money with which to indulge it; if theylacked taste, they had the money to employ someonewith taste to act on their behalf. They paid for the bestarchitects to build their houses, the best painters topaint their portraits. By their patronage, theyencouraged the development of the great Britisharchitects and painters; with their purchases, theybrought to this country the best foreign works of art,from china to furniture to paintings and sculpture. Onecan argue for weeks whether they should have had somuch money; most of them now would say they shouldnot. The point is that they did, and the country as awhole is the beneficiary. At Boughton, Woburn,Chatsworth, Goodwood, and so on, there areincomparable treasures, which no other country canboast, because only here are such treasures used forthe purpose for which they were bought, as decor to ahome, instead of being ranged against the walls in amuseum.

Since Lloyd George first began to bleed the rich,they have, as well as saving their own skins, tried toprotect these collections from dispersal or

disappearance abroad. The Dukes of Manchester andNewcastle sold everything and left, but they are nottypical. The others have adjusted themselves to eachnew piece of legislation and so far have successfullykept the collections more or less intact. Until recently, itwas possible to pass on to one's heir a tax-freeinheritance, provided one lived for seven years after thedate of the transfer. It has been said that one noble lorddied a few weeks too soon, and his family had to leavehim in a cold attic room until the time was opportune forthem to announce his death officially. Now, with newlaws coming into operation, even that ruse will nolonger work. There is every possibility that CapitalTransfer Tax and Wealth Tax will combine to break upthe estates and send our artistic heritage abroad. Noone in Britain will be tempted to buy a picture if heknows he will have to pay for it over and over againeach year, and not even the dukes will be able to keepthose that they have inherited. Perhaps there will sooncome a day when there will be nothing left to see atWoburn Abbey and no point in visiting Goodwood.The dukes are not being acquiescent, however. In thevan is Lord March, who will one day be Duke of

Richmond, constantly emphasising to the public that it isnot for himself that he wants the art treasures to remainat Goodwood (living in a remote wing of the house, hehardly sees them), but for the country. He once emptiedone whole room to show visitors what might happenwhen everything was sold abroad.

We may be approaching the end of ducal estates.But not the end of dukes. While it is more or lesscertain that no new dukedoms will be created, only anAct of Parliament can remove those that already exist.Not even the Queen has the power to declare adukedom extinct, except by attainder for high treason,and only one candidate, the Duke of Montrose, (seeChapter 14) has come anywhere near making himselfso eligible. The crown is the fountain of all honour, andonce a dukedom has been created, it can only descendaccording to limitation of the patent.

Before we embark upon an account of the separateducal families, a word about the complexities ofpeerage law for those readers who, like myself, are notnaturally familiar with such terms as special remainderor with the seemingly arbitrary use of courtesy titles.

When most titles were created, it was usually

stipulated that the dignity would be inherited in tailmale, that is with succession to the heirs male of thebody of the grantee. This means in effect that thedukedom is inherited by a son, or nephew, or malecousin, or even uncle, as long as he can be traced backin male line to the first duke to hold the title, making hima male descendant of that duke's body. Sometimes thetitle is limited to heirs general, which means that it candescend through the female line. This is especially trueof Scottish earldoms, and accounts for the separation ofthe dukedom and earldom of Sutherland in 1963, whenthe dukedom went to the heir male, and the earldom tothe heir general, now Countess of Sutherland in herown right. She is still the heir "of the body" of theoriginal Earl of Sutherland. Thirdly, a specialremainder can be specified, enabling the title to passnot to a blood descendant, an heir "of the body", but tosomeone nominated by the grantee. Thus the 1st Dukeof Newcastle named his son-in-law, Lord Lincoln, fromwhom the present Duke is descended, and the new Earlof Northumberland in the Seymour family named hisson-in-law, Hugh Smithson, ancestor of the presentDuke of Northumberland. A special remainder

regulated the descent of the dukedom of Fife, enablingthe 1st Duke's daughter to inherit the title in this century.In the case of the Duke of Marlborough, the patent is amost complicated document, listing the maledescendants of each of his daughters in succession; theeffect was to enable one of his daughters to succeedhim, and the son of another daughter to succeed as 3rdDuke.

One more thing. The patent always rules that theheirs, whether male, general, or special, must be"lawfully begotten", two words which have barred manyan illegitimate son from succession, and without whichwe should probably still have a Duke of Bolton now,and would definitely have a different Duke of Somersetfrom the man presently living at Maiden Bradley.

There is one very special case which is worthmentioning, although it impinges upon a dukedom onlyby implication. [2] The earldom of Devon was createdfor Edward Courtenay in 1553, with limitation to heirmale, but not of the body. The title was extinct threeyears later, but in 1831 it was successfully claimed by aman whose descent was from an ancestor living 200years before the creation of 1553, and who was, quite

correctly, a male heir but not a descendant of the 1stEarl. The 17th Earl of Devon is alive today, andbenefits from this unique entail.25

The reader will have to bear in mind the use of"courtesy titles" - the Duke of Beaufort may be referredto as Marquess of Worcester, or the Duke ofMarlborough as Marquess of Blandford. A dukenormally has many subsidiary titles; he is usually, indescending scale, Marquess of this, Earl of that,Viscount of another, and Baron of something else. Hiseldest son is allowed to use as his style of address thesecondary title vested in his father, and his eldest sonmay take his grandfather's third title. Thus the Duke ofBedford's son is called Lord Tavistock, and hisgrandson Lord Howland. But neither son nor grandsonare in fact peers; they cannot sit in the House of Lords,and there is nothing to prevent their standing forelection to the House of Commons. The Duke ofBuccleuch was in the House of Commons as an M.P.when he was known as Earl of Dalkeith in his father'slifetime. He was not really an earl, but was able to usehis father's earldom "by courtesy" of the sovereign as amere name.

Conversely, and here we go back to that fascinatingtopic of rank, the eldest son of a duke is always rankedas a marquess, whether or not his father holds amarquessate which he can use as his name. The son ofthe Duke of Grafton is called Earl of Euston, but isranked as a marquess. And the son of the Duke ofSomerset who, uniquely among the dukes, has only onesubsidiary title at the bottom of the scale - BaronSeymour - is called Lord Seymour yet has theprecedence of a marquess above all 199 Earls, 132Viscounts and 493 barons.

With such sketchy information I trust the tangle ofnames which follows may be reduced to comparativesimplicity.

REFERENCES

1 . Cecil Woodham-Smith, The Reason Why, pp. 8-9.

2. Horatia Durant, The Somerset Sequence, p. 77.3. Complete Peerage, II, App. D.

4. Duke of Sutherland, Looking Back, p. 101.5. Lord Kinross, The Dukes of England, in Life, 15

November'19436. Vita Sackville-West, The Edwardians, p.

75.7. Complete Peerage, VIII, App. A, by H. Pirie-

Gordon andA. H. Doubleday.8. Correspondence of Sarah Spencer, Lady Littelton

(1912).9. Nina Epton, Milord and Milady, p. 27.10. Duke of Manchester, My Candid Recollections,

p. 16.11 . Rosalind K. Marshall, The Days ofDuchess Anne, p. 43. [2. Lady Holland to HerSon, p. 102.13. Vita Sackville-West, The Edwardians, p. 159.14. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life, p. 93.15. Nina Epton, Milord and Milady, p. 208.16. Creevey Papers, II, 129.17. Duke of Manchester, My Candid Recollections,

p. 233.18. Duke of Bedford, A Silver-plated Spoon, p. 64.

19. Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan, The Glitter and theGold, p. 83.

20. Life and Letters of Lady Sarah Lennox, (1901),I, p. 92.

21. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life, p. 1 o 1.22. Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan, op. cit., p. 98.23. ibid., 130, and Duke of Portland, op. cit., 129.24. Complete Peerage, VIII, 374 (d).Complete Peerage, VII, App. E and F..

1 The Old Nobility Duke of Norfolk; Duke of Somerset

From 1572 until the reign of James I there wereno dukes in England. All the Dukes alive nowderive their titles from creations well after thispurge, except two, which descend from theviolent years of pre-Elizabethan England. Onesurvives from the Wars of the Roses - thedukedom of Norfolk, conferred upon theHoward family by Richard III in 1483, insuspicious circumstances which suggest at thevery least connivance in the murder of the rightfulheirs to the throne, the little princes in the Tower.The present Duke of Norfolk, 17th in line ofdescent from the alleged assassin, is therefore thePremier Duke and Earl in the peerage of England,with precedence over all other members of thenobility except the royal dukes. The second earlydukedom survives from the Tudor period - thedukedom of Somerset, created in 1547 by the

1st Duke of Somerset and confer red uponhimself (in the name of the child King Edward VI,whose uncle, Lord Protector, and virtual ruler hewas). The present Duke of Somerset is the 19thin line of descent from this man, EdwardSeymour, who seized power in the kingdom onthe death of Henry VIII.

Together, they represent all thatremains of the dukedoms existing whenEngland was governed by gangsters, andwhen few of those who wielded powerdied a natural death. The titles of Norfolkand Somerset are owed to a bloody swordor to ruthlessness of a kind which we nowonly find in Sicily or New York. They wereboth dukes in the earliest sense of theword, leaders of men, military as well aspolitical. Having risen to the summit ofambition and honours, they paid the priceby sinking to the pit of disgrace, sufferingnumerous attainders under successivemonarchs. It is a wonder either familysurvived at all. The 1st Duke of Norfolkdied in battle, fighting alongside his friendRichard III; the 2nd Duke was three and ahalf years in the Tower of London, afterbeing attainted by Henry VII's first

parliament. He later rose once more toeminence; the 3rd Duke was found guiltyof high treason, imprisoned in the Tower,and only escaped beheading by the timelydeath of Henry VIII; his son the Earl ofSurrey (the famous poet) was imprisonedand beheaded; the 4th Duke of Norfolk,son to the Earl of Surrey, was imprisonedand beheaded for high treason in the reignof Elizabeth I; his son, Philip, Earl ofArundel, died in the Tower. And so on. Asfor the Seymours, Dukes of Somerset, thetale is similar. The 1st Duke was attainted,imprisoned, and beheaded; his great-grandson the 2nd Duke spent some time inthe Tower. When his son, Lord HenrySeymour, was imprisoned there in 1651,the 2nd Duke commented, "I am very gladto hear that you have your health so wellin the Tower. It seems it is a place entailedupon our family, for we have now held itfive generations, yet to speak the truth Ilike not the place so well but that I couldbe very well contented the entail shouldbe cut off."1

There are yet other circumstances whichsuggest similarities in the Howard and Seymour

histories. Both families provided wives to HenryVIII, and attained their greatest power as aresult. Queen Catherine Howard and QueenAnne Boleyn were grand-daughters of the 2ndDuke of Norfolk and nieces to the 3rd Duke.Queen Jane Seymour was sister to the Duke ofSomerset. Thus both families were united byblood to the Crown, the Seymours to Edward VIand the Howards to Elizabeth I. Furthermore,both families have been bedevilled by the mostoverweening pride. The Seymours engendered aduke of such absurd pomposity that he is knownto history as "The Proud Duke"; this is the 6thDuke of Somerset (1662-1748) whoseextravagant conduct we shall see later. The prideof the Howards has been consistent through thecenturies. More than 400 years ago they alreadyregarded themselves as the sole representativesof the old nobility, and looked upon the newlyennobled Seymours as upstarts. The poet Earl ofSurrey (1517-1547)

was beheaded for having tried too hard to

prove the superiority of his ancestry to that of theparvenu Seymours.

* * *

The Howards had every reason to brag oftheir antiquity. Although John Howard was notcreated Duke of Norfolk until 1483, he wasdescended through his mother from the Dukes ofNorfolk of an earlier creation, vested in theMowbray family (who turn up in Shakespeare'shistory plays); there had been a Mowbray Dukeof Norfolk since 1397, descended from Thomasof Brotherton, a son of King Edward I. So theHoward connection ascends, in one way oranother, to the very dawn of English history, andthey have rarely been in danger of over lookingthe fact.

The 1st Duke of Norfolk of the Howard line(1430-1485) was, as Sir John Howard, the sonof a small landowner with ideas above his stationwho married the Mowbray heiress. There wasstill a Mowbray Duke of Norfolk at the time, andno reason to suppose that the title would not

continue. But John Howard was nonetheless busyinsinuating himself into the highest circles. Thetime was ripe for young men to advancethemselves to the top if they happened to choosewhere to place their allegiance. John Howardwas lucky. He chose the Yorkist side, became aclose confidant of Edward IV, and, when hedied, was the closest personal friend of hisbrother, Richard III. There is no doubt that JohnHoward and his son Thomas Howard were handin glove with Richard both before and after hissordid machinations to occupy the throne ofEngland. They were intimately acquainted with hisplans; they may even have helped carry them out.

The sequence of events is as follows.The last Duke of Norfolk of the Mowbrayline died in 1475. His daughter Anne wasmarried at the age of five to Edward IV'ssecond son, the infant Duke of York, whowas then created Duke of Norfolk himself.They would event ually grow up, prosper,beget children, and continue the new lineof Norfolks; they would also receive theMowbray lands. If, however, AnneMowbray were to die without heirs, the

Mowbray lands would pass to two heirsby marriage, one of whom was JohnHoward.

In 1481 Anne Mowbray died, agedeight. John Howard could still not inheritthe Mowbray lands, however, because thelittle Duke of York and Norfolk was stillalive. All changed when Anne's father-in-law, King Edward IV, died in 1483. In hisrush to usurp the throne, Richard Duke ofGloucester was aided and abetted by thewilling Howard, who stood to gain almostas much by the removal of the two princesas Richard did himself. First, the elderprince, the new King Edward V, wasconveyed to the Tower on 19th May.2 TheConstable of the Tower who received himwas none other than John Howard. Amonth later, on 16th June, his brother, thelittle Duke of York, joined him. Again itwas John Howard who persuaded thewidowed Queen to hand over her secondson into his (and Richard's) safe keeping.'Events moved quickly in the next fewdays. Hastings was eliminated withindecent speed, accused and executed, atRichard's behest, within a few hours; and itwas Thomas Howard, John's son, who

lured him into the trap which Richard hadprepared.4 On 25th June Richard wasurged to take the throne, which he didwithout delay, supported at the right handof the Chair of State in Westminster Hallby John Howard. Three days later, on 28thJune 1483, John Howard was made Duke ofNorfolk and Earl Marshal of England, andhis son Thomas was created Eari ofSurrey. At Richard's coronation on 8thJuly it was John Howard who carried thecrown and filled the office of HighSteward, while his son Thomas carried theSword of State.

Those who deny the complicity of Richard III in the murderof the Princes in the Tower would do well to ponder thiscreation of the dukedom of Norfolk. If the princes were aliveon 28th June, the creation could not have been made, as theyounger prince, Duke of York, was also Duke of Norfolk. Byelevating John Howard to this dignity, Richard tacitlyadmitted that the title was vacant and that the little prince wastherefore dead. By this reckoning, the princes were murderedsome time between 17th June and 28th June 1483.*That Richard III was ultimately responsible for their deaths

cannot reasonably be denied; it was essential to his purposesthat they should both be eliminated. What is more interestingto us is that the Duke of Norfolk and his son were privy to theplans. There is no cast- iron evidence that Norfolk killed the

boys, or personally ordered their murder. But thecircumstantial evidence which implicates him is weighty. AsConstable of the Tower he had the keys, and could achieveaccess at any time, without superior authority. As the intimateof Richard III over many years, and especially throughoutthese days in June 1483, it is inconceivable that he did notknow what Richard was up to; indeed Richard relied on him tohelp realise his plans. As the envoy to the Queen, it was hewho brought the little prince to the Tower. As heir to theMowbray lands, he stood to gain more than anyone from thedeath of the boy. And he was rewarded for his fidelity by hiselevation to the peerage so quickly that the corpses may notyet have been disposed of. The times were so violent that noman's life, be he ever so young, counted for much: poweralone mattered. Richard III seized power with his henchmenJohn and Thomas Howard as wilful accomplices.

Fittingly, they were deprived of their power in thesame violent manner. Richard had sat on the throne foronly two years when the country was invaded by HenryTudor, whom he went to meet with his forces atBosworth. The King died at the battle of BosworthField in 1485, and by his side perished his faithfulservant, John Duke of Norfolk, pierced by an arrow.His son Thomas Howard (who there

* In fairness, it must be pointed out that many historians do not

accept this line of argument. The Princes in the Tower had been

declared bastards by an assembly of Lords and Commons whoaccepted that the marriage of their father Edward IV with ElizabethWoodville was invalid under canon law. As bastards, they wereautomatically disinherited of titles or honours of any kind. Thusthey were legally dead on 28 June 1483, though not necessarilyphysically dead, and the dukedom of Norfolk, held by young Richardof York, was vacant whether or not the boy was alive. This might besaid to beg the question, for the dukedom of Norfolk had not beeninherited by Richard of York, but was his by right of marriage toAnne Mowbray, the Norfolk heiress. Readers interested in pursuingthe matter should consult P. M. Kendall, Richard III, Appendix I;Mancini's Usurpation of Richard III, ed. Armstrong; Jeremy Potter,The Trail of Blood. The author is indebted to Mr Jeremy Potter forthese elucidations

upon became 2nd Duke of Norfolk) survived the

battle, but was taken prisoner by the invaders, andthrown into the Tower. The first Parliament of the newking, Henry VII, attainted Howard for High treason,confiscated his property (including the Mowbraylands), and deprived him of all titles and dignities.Technically, of course, he could not possibly be guiltyof high treason, since Henry Tudor was neither de factonor de jure King of England when Howard took armsagainst him, but this awkward point was side-steppedby making Henry's assumption of the crown retroactive

by twenty-four hours, so that Howard's actions couldbe legally regarded as treasonable.5

Howard, stripped of all honours and influence,languished in the Tower for three and a half years. Heused his time to demonstrate that solid Howardadaptability upon which his re-emergence was to befounded. He refused all opportunity to escape (a realchance presented itself in June 1487)," declaring that hewas loyal to the Crown, whoever was wearing it.Before the dust had settled from the Battle of Bosworthhe had told Henry, speaking of the slain Richard, "Hewas my crowned King, and if the parliamentaryauthority of England set the crown upon a stock, I willfight for that stock. And as I fought then for him, I willfight for you, when you are established by the saidauthority."7 These are the words of a pragmatist and awily politician. Firm loyalty to the Crown of Englandhas been a quasi-religious duty of the Howardsthroughout the centuries, never more evident thantoday; it is certainly an attitude which allows of infiniteflexibility. With the early Norfolks, it was simply amatter of survival; the Howards knew which side tobutter their bread, and, like chameleons, they changed

their colours according to whoever was in power. Theymay say that they were loyal to the Crown, not to thehead beneath it, but they were far too canny really tobelieve such humbug. One of them, the 4th Duke(executed by Elizabeth I for having conspired withMary Queen of Scots), backed the wrong horse andpaid for it with his head. His protestations of loyalty tothe Crown were then to no avail.

The 2nd Duke (1443-1524) was now biding his timein the Tower of London. Henry VII did not forget hiswords after Bosworth, observed his passivity in prison,and discerned his pragmatism. The King correctlyjudged that, given the opportunity, Howard would mostlikely serve faithfully. He released him in January 1489,and carefully measured the amount of favour shown. Asmall carrot it was to restore him to the earldom ofSurrey; but the dukedom remained vacant, and most ofhis lands forfeited. There had to be the possibility offuture preferment conditional on Howard's obedience,so the largest prizes were reserved. Howard thenshowed of what mettle he was made. Having servedEdward IV and Richard III, he now served their enemyHenry VII with identical devotion, rising to become

Chief General of England. After twenty years he wasgiven back the lands which had been forfeited, and histotal rehabilitation was confirmed by his being anexecutor of Henry VII's will. Adapta bility brought itsrewards.

Howard consolidated his position under Henry VIII,being the king's chief adviser and most influentialmember of the Privy Council. He was deeply resentful,however, of the influence wielded by Wolsey, who alsohad the ear of the King but did not, in Howard's view,deserve it. He was, after all, a commoner, a butcher'sson. No amount of imprisonment, beheadings,attainders, would ever deflect a Howard from theopinion that his family was second to none in its nobilityand ancestry, and by virtue of that inheritance, shouldtake its place next to kings. Howard loathed Wolseyfor mixing with the great, and secretly thought less ofthe King for deigning to confide in the upstart. It tookvery little to make the famous Howard pride bristle.

The Howard pride attained its finest expression at theBattle of Flodden Field in 1513. Whether it wasstrategy or luck, or, as the people thought, theintervention of divine aid, Howard led his troops to an

astounding victory. Though nearly seventy years old,and though his troops were parched and their stomachsempty, he inspired them with such zeal that they routedthe Scots, who lost 10,000 men against the English lossof barely 400. Insufficient attention has been paid to thecontribution made by the Howard arrogance, whichthough unwelcome in society, is one of the mostdesirable qualities in battle.

Howard's reward was the restoration of his father'sdukedom immediately after the battle in 1513. (Thereare some genealogical purists who claim that this was anew creation,8 and that the dukedom of Norfolk shoulddate from this year, but since he was the second Dukeof the Howard line, and since he would have inheritedin 1485 anyway, it is much simpler to maintain thecreation of the dukedom in 1483.) He had travelled fullcircle back into the royal favour.

The old man was to show one more instance ofpragmatism before his death. In 1521, aged nearlyeighty, he was appointed Lord High Steward for thetrial of Edward, Duke of Buckingham, on a charge oftreason. Trials in the sixteenth century were mereformalities, of which the issue was decided beforehand.

Buckingham was a personal friend of Norfolk, hisdaughter had married one of Norfolk's sons, andNorfolk was known to be in entire agreement withBuckingham's views. Yet Norfolk consented to presideat the trial of his friend, knowing full well that he wouldbe required to pass a sentence of death. When themoment came there were tears streaming down hisface.9 However, he recovered sufficiently from hisdistress to accept some of the manors forfeited fromBuckingham.

The 2nd Duke's most spectacular achievement wasto lay the foundations of a family dynasty and to assureits continuance to the present day. Thirteen of hischildren survived, and all made astute marriages. Hisdaughter Elizabeth was the mother of Anne Boleyn,Henry VIII's second wife; his son Edmund was thefather of Catherine Howard, Henry's fifth wife; anothergrand-daughter married Henry's natural son, HenryFitzroy; a daughter married into the family of de Vere,Earls of Oxford. The list is an impressive roll- call ofsixteenth-century nobility, which spawned severaldistinct branches of Howards, many of which wereennobled. The Howard family holds or has held twenty-

five different patents of creation to separate peerages,including the earldoms of Surrey, Suffolk,Northampton, Stafford and Carlisle. The Howards ofEffingham, the Howards of Glossop, the Earls ofCarlisle and of Suffolk, continue to the present day. Infact, the present Lord Howard of Glossop (also LordBeaumont) inherited the dukedom of Norfolk in 1975.No family in the history of the country can boast suchstaying power or such success. The credit must go tothe 2nd Duke of Norfolk, who, by skilful manipulationof his progeny, made certain that the name of Howardwould not slide into oblivion.

He was succeeded by his eldest son, 3rd Duke ofNorfolk (1473-1554), who resembled him in manyways. An excellent soldier, he fought with his fatheragainst the Scots and was ruthless and brutal in battle.Also like his father, he showed that his chief aim in lifewas the advancement of himself and his family, to whichend he would acquiesce in whatever designs the Kinghis master might cherish. He rose to become HenryVIII's Lord Treasurer (and, incidentally, the subject ofone of Holbein's greatest portraits), signed the letterwhich threatened the Pope with loss of papal

supremacy in England if he would not grant the King'sdivorce, and on the subsequent dissolution of themonasteries received extra lands as rewards for hisloyalty. He even went so far as to preside at the trial ofhis niece Anne Boleyn, the disgraced Queen, and tomake arrange ments for her execution on the block. Hefollowed this extraordinary cold-bloodedness byproposing another niece, Catherine Howard, as wife tothe King, and only when she in turn lost her head wereNorfolk and his family disgraced. There are not manyexamples in history of pragmatism pursued to suchlengths.

Like his father, the 3rd Duke despised Wolsey forhis low birth, revealing a depth of contempt which isonly comprehensible in a dynastic family whose rightfulplace is undermined; "I will tear him with my teeth", heis reported to have said.10 Similarly, he had no time forthe up-and-coming Seymours. He marked out EdwardSeymour, now Earl of Hertford, as his prime enemy, adisastrous mistake which backfired when CatherineHoward was beheaded; for Jane Seymour proved abetter wife for the King than had the Howards, and shewas the mother of the heir to the throne, Prince

Edward. Gleefully, the Seymours pursued the Howardsto their second down fall, and rose to eminence in theirplace.

The Seymours had been practically unknown until theKing chose Jane Seymour as his third wife. Thepaterfamilias, Sir John Seymour, of Wolf Hall,Wiltshire, had been knighted by Henry VII in 1497 forhis services against the Cornish rebels at Blackheath,but his subsequent career did not attract attention. Itwas his children who were to bring fame to the name ofSeymour, notably Edward, Jane, and Thomas. As theyrose in royal favour, so, in direct proportion, theHowards sank; the fortunes of the new family weredirectly related to the humiliation of the old, and theSeymours climbed to the highest rank by stamping onthe slipping fingers of the Howards.

Jane Seymour, as the daughter of a countrygentleman, was lady- in-waiting to Henry VIII's firsttwo queens, Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn.The King fell in love with her in 1535, and met herthrough a secret passage to her apartments atGreenwich. The fate of Queen Anne Boleyn wassealed; she was beheaded, and Jane married the King

the very next day. Thus, from obscurity the Seymourswere thrust into the headlines of English history, and, atthe same time, the Howards suffered a set-back by theexecution of the favoured niece Anne Boleyn. Janesecured the position of her family by giving birth to themuch-needed son, the future King of England.Cele brations were ecstatic. At the christening, theQueen's brother, Edward Seymour, carried herstepdaughter Princess Elizabeth (the child of AnneBoleyn), and was elevated to the peerage as Earl ofHertford. (He had already been made LordBeauchamp after the marriage.) Another brother,Thomas Seymour, was delivered from even deeperobscurity (he was a servant to Sir Francis Bryan) totake his place as a member of the Royal Family.Norfolk and his son the Earl of Surrey watched fromthe shadows in silent fury.

Jane died twelve days after the birth of her son,casting the King into genuine grief; he wore mourningfor her, a consideration he did not show for his otherwives. Her death consolidated the position at Court ofher brothers, to whom the King looked for consolation.There was no stopping them. Hertford became

Captain-General in the north, revealing an unsuspectedtalent for battle when he raided Scotland in 1545 andwithin two weeks had burnt seven monasteries, sixteencastles, five towns, and 243 villages.11 At thedissolution of the monasteries, he was granted landswhich included Maiden Bradley in Wiltshire, where hisdescendant, the present Duke of Somerset, now lives.

The Howards grew restive. Another one of theirnumber, Catherine Howard, had lost her head, whileEdward and Thomas Seymour, who came fromnowhere, continued to sit in the sunshine of royalfavour. It was intolerable for Norfolk's son, the brilliantand impet uous Earl of Surrey. This man graces ouranthologies with some of the loveliest poetry written inthe English language, and introduced the Petrarchansonnet to English literature. At the age of ten he hadfallen in love with nine-year-old Lady ElizabethFitzgerald, daughter of the Earl of Kildare (andancestor of the Dukes of Leinster), and had addressedto her some of his most beautiful sonnets expressing theideal of Platonic love. He had then married LadyFrances de Vere, daughter of the Earl of Oxford. Thisman, whose poem The Happy Life recommends "no

grudge nor strife . . . wisdom joined with simplicity",and exhorts the reader to be "contented with thine ownestate", this man was before all else a Howard. Hepossessed the Howard vanity and arrogance inabundant measure, allied with a poetic sensibility whichunleashed passions beyond rational control. Even forthe sixteenth century, when birth and rank counted forfar more than they do now, Surrey was undulyimpressed with his ancestry. Jealous of the rise of theSeymours, he made a foolish move; he had his armsquartered with the arms of Edward the Confessor, thusclaiming royal blood. He wanted to prove thesuperiority of his descent to that of the Seymours. Inpurely factual terms, Surrey was perfectly justified inquartering the royal arms, since he was descendedthrough the Mowbray family from Thomas Brotherton,son of Edward I, and Richard I had permitted theMowbrays the quarter ing. However, it was adangerous gesture, knowing the antipathy of theSeymours and their power to express it. Surrey and hisfather were accused by the Seymours of treasonabledesigns, and were committed to the Tower.

There then followed the most unseemly squabble.

The Howards' fate was not helped by dissension withinthe family. The Duke of Norfolk's private life had beenthe subject of gossip for some time. He and his wifehad been forever quarrelling, and had eventuallyseparated, as a result of the Duke's taking a mistress.What really rankled was that the mistress, ElizabethHolland, was a washerwoman from the Duke's ownhousehold. The Duchess told Cromwell that MistressHolland was "a churl's daughter, who was but a washerin my nursery eight years".12 For a man from whomaristocratic snobbery came as fire from his nostrils, theDuke showed a remarkable lapse in taste. The affairrent the family asunder. The Duchess claimed she wasafraid to enter the house. "He keeps that harlot BessHolond and the residue of the harlots that bound meand pinnacled me and sat on my breast till I spat blood,and I reckon if I come home I shall be poisoned."13

The affair is too distant now for us to judge whether shewas being melodramatic, but the family appear to havebelieved it. Surrey took his father's side, but his wife,his daughter, and his mistress all testified against him tothe Seymours. Matters were made worse by thedaughter's statement that her brother (Surrey) had

rigidly adhered to the old Catholic religion, anadmission which cannot have pleased the King, andwhich further antagonised Seymour, who was aconvinced Protestant. Father and son were attainted;their fall was absolute. The Earl of Surrey wasbeheaded on 21st January 1547, a martyr to vanity; hedied for a trivial cause, which appears to the modernmind as mere "showing off", but which, in the nervousand agitated times of Henry VIII, was high treason. Hisfather the Duke signed a confession, was about to losehis head, but was saved by the death of the King thenight before the execution was due to take place.

It is odd how, in these early days, the fortunes of theSeymours continued to follow the demise of theHowards so closely. Only one week after the executionof Surrey, Henry VIII died (28th January 1547).Edward Seymour lost no time in seizing power; with theHowards out of the way, the "old nobility" could hinderhim no longer with their petulant pride. He did notannounce the king's death immediately, but first fetchedthe new King, Edward VI his nephew, who was nowten years old, and brought him to London. With theKing's person in his custody, Seymour proclaimed

himself Lord Protector of the Realm, releasing thesecret of Henry's death and Edward's accession, andsecured the right to act independently of the PrivyCouncil's advice. Only one member of the Councilstrongly objected to this coup d'etat - Wriothesley. Afew days later Seymour created himself BaronSeymour, and on 16th February Duke of Somerset.

The warrant creating this dukedom is a uniquedocument. It bears the signature of the boy king,"Edward", but it bears in addition a number of othersignatures, among which can be seen "E. Somerset"who, in all logic, can hardly have existed, under thatname, to put his signature to a document which wouldenable him thenceforth, to bear that name. The warrantmay still be seen at the Public Record Office.

His brother Thomas was appointed Lord HighAdmiral of England and elevated as Lord Seymour ofSudeley (Sudeley Castle in Gloucestershire was whereThomas went to live with his new wife, QueenCatherine Parr, after being turned down by PrincessElizabeth). The Seymours had never imagined suchheights of power; together the brothers ruled England,their nephew was king in theory, and the new Duke of

Somerset was king in fact. The official designation bywhich he permitted himself to be called had a royal ringabout it: "Edward, by the grace of God, Duke ofSomerset".14 He addressed the King of France as"brother".The Lord Protector achieved much in the field of

religious reform during his reign. He was, indeed, thefirst Protestant ruler of Eng land. He allowed priests tomarry, issued a proclamation against ceremonies,removed images, and enforced the use of English inchurch services, all measures regarded as extremelyradical at the time; he was thought a "rank Calvinist",15

and did openly correspond with Calvin. He was,however, intoxicated with the taste of power, andoverstretched the forbearance of those about him. Hewas far too ready to line his own pocket, acquiring forhimself vast properties from monastic lands, far morethan might be regarded as reasonable, and a hugepersonal fortune. The high regard in which he obviouslyheld himself was his undoing. He thought that he couldproceed along the path of self-indulgence withouthindrance, as long as the child king was at his bidding.He built a sumptuous palace in the Strand - Somerset

House - and erected there a court of requests. The laststraw was his making a stamp of the King's signature,which was an impudent admission that the power of theroyal authority was entirely in his grasp.Ironically, it was a family squabble which turned the

tables against the Seymours, as it had against theHowards. The Duke of Somerset and his brother theLord Admiral fell out almost as soon as they acquiredpower, and were virtually sworn enemies for the rest oftheir lives. As they were in control of the country, theirstrife did not make for harmonious government. Eventheir wives quarrelled over prece dence, the Duchessclaiming a higher status than the Queen Dowager.Thomas Seymour was jealous of his brother's supremeauthority; he thought that the Lord Protectorship shouldhave been shared equally between them. SinceSomerset had control of the King, Thomas Seymourwould have control of his sister the Princess Elizabeth.When this failed, he turned his attentions to Lady JaneGrey (who lived with him and his wife Catherine Parrat Sudeley). Then he attempted to seduce the eleven-year-old boy king away from the Pro tector's authorityby the most elementary ruse: he sent him secret

pocket-money. When he thought that he had the boy'sconfidence he made a fatal miscalculation. He plannedto kidnap him. With master keys to the royal palaces, itwas no trouble for Seymour to gain access to hisnephew. In the middle of a winter night, Seymour andsome confederates stole to the door of the King'sbedroom. As he fumbled with the lock, the King's petspaniel barked, and Seymour ran the dog through withhis sword. But it was too late. The alarm was raised,Seymour was arrested and conveyed to the Tower.Lord Seymour of Sudeley was beheaded on his

brother's orders on Tower Hill in 1549, two years afterthe same fate had befallen Thomas Howard, Earl ofSurrey, for whose execution Seymour had activelystriven. It is a pity that history has no truck with themoral principles of poetic justice, for here would be asplendid example of the principle at work.The following year, the Duke of Somerset himself

began his decline. He was deprived of hisProtectorship (to which, anyway, he had had no right inHenry VIII's will) and all other offices, was laterimpris oned in the Tower, and finally found guilty ofinciting the London citizens to rebellion. The Duke's

execution in 1552 provoked scenes of unheard-oflamentation, for in spite of the man's rapaciousness andunbridled ambition, he enjoyed considerable popularitywith the people. The period of his rule had beenmercifully free from religious persecution, and ordinarypeople slept more soundly in their beds than they haddone for a hundred years or more. They knew also thathe had a deeply felt concern and sympathy with thepoorer working classes, whose part he often took.Londoners always know in their bones when they areruled by someone with their interests at heart, and theycherish him accordingly. They felt this for Charles II,for Elizabeth I, for George VI, and for Lord ProtectorSomerset.Orders had been given for the people to stay indoors

until ten o'clock, when the execution would already beover, but they were wasted words. Tower Hill wascrowded. The Duke addressed a few words to thepeople before he placed his head on the block. Hesaid that he was glad to have advanced the cause ofreligion. Then he was beheaded. The crowds rushed todip their handkerchiefs in his blood. At least onewoman still had her handkerchief two years later.

When the Duke of Northumberland was led throughthe city in chains in 1554 for his opposition to QueenMary, the woman shook her blood-stainedhandkerchief in front of him. "Behold the blood of thatworthy man, that good uncle of that excellent King,"she said, "which was shed by thy treacherousmachinations, now, at this instant, begins to revengeitself upon thee."16 Contemporary accounts haveperhaps adorned the lady's prose a little, but that wasno doubt the gist of what she said. The "excellent king"meanwhile, now four teen years old, recorded hisuncle's death in his diary in the manner of adispassionate news item. "The Duke of Somerset hadhis head cut off upon Tower Hill between eight and nineo'clock in the morning."17

It was time for the Howards to re-emerge. TheSeymour family, consigned to political oblivion, werenever again to attain such heights. They now entered acentury of comparative obscurity. The old Duke ofNorfolk, 3rd of the Howard line, who had been savedfrom the scaffold by the perfect timing of Henry VIII'sdeath, was reinstated by Mary Tudor, half-sister andsuccessor of the child Edward VI, and allowed to die

of old age, a rare privilege for the dukedom. Hisgrandson the 4th Duke of Norfolk (.1536-1572), sonof the beheaded poet Surrey, succeeded in 1554 at theage of eighteen. He married Lady Mary Fitzalan,daughter and heiress of the Earl of Arundel, and shedied in childbirth at the age of sixteen. The earldom ofArundel, one of the most ancient titles in the land,passed to her son Philip, and has been held by theDukes of Norfolk ever since. This marriage marks thefirst alliance of the Howards and Fitzalans, the firstjoining of the titles of Norfolk and Arundel, an alliancecommemorated in the family name of the present Duke,Miles Fitzalan-Howard.

Norfolk's career was tragic and tempestuous. Hemarried three times, and was three times a widower.On each occasion his grief was hardly compensated bythe wealth and lands he inherited from suc cessivewives. By 1570, he was not only the richest man inEngland, and the loneliest, but the only duke in therealm, respected and revered as the head of Englishnobility, and living representative of an illustrious familywhose past was already part of distant history. It was avirtually impregnable position, almost divine in its

antiquity and in the veneration it inspired. The uniquesituation of the Howards was demonstrated at thecoronation of Queen Elizabeth, when not only wasNorfolk the Earl Marshal in charge of arrange ments,but his father-in-law, Arundel, was Lord High Steward,his great-uncle, Lord Howard of Effingham, wasChamberlain of the royal household, and his wife theDuchess was one of the two principal ladies of honour.Elizabeth herself may have been the centre of attraction,but she was the only member of the Tudor familypresent, whereas around her, in front of her, and behindher were quantities of Howards who dominated theproceedings. She was even the daughter of a Howard.

All this was cast to the winds by the Duke'sineffaceable ambition and inexpungeable pride. Heresented his role as stage manager of State ceremonialoccasions, denied the high political office which hisname deserved. Not satisfied with being a cousin of theQueen, he dreamed of the day when a Howard wouldsit on the throne of England.

The seed of his misfortune was once again theHoward arrogance. Just as his father and grandfatherhad despised Seymour on account of his low birth, and

his great-grandfather the 2nd Duke of Norfolk haddespised the butcher's son Wolsey, so the ElizabethanDuke turned his nose up at the Earl of Leicester, theQueen's favourite companion, lifelong friend, andflirtatious admirer. Norfolk was in capable ofunderstanding that the Queen could possibly takeLeicester's part against him. He had been eleven yearsold when his father was beheaded by the Seymours,who had thereby deprived his family of their rightfulpositions as protectors of the realm. He saw Leicesteras the reincarnation of the perennial impudent upstart,and he smarted with indignation at the Queen'spreference for him. He rebuked Leicester in a high-handed manner for behaving familiarly with the Queen,and for "kissing the Queen's majesty without beinginvited thereto".18 Eventually, Norfolk was led toimagine that the only way of protecting the throne fromthe per nicious influence of such ne'er-do-wells was tolook after the succes sion himself.

The Queen was not married, and showed no signs ofremedying the situation. There was no obvious heir tothe throne. The loudest claimant was Mary Queen ofScots, descended from Henry VII, and recognised by

the French as the rightful Queen of England. ButElizabeth could not envisage such a claim. The twoqueens never met (to the eternal regret of biographersand dramatists), but they impinged upon each other'slives almost every day. Elizabeth was the obstacle toMary's designs and the chief cause of her unhappiness;Mary was the sorest thorn in Elizabeth's flesh, and theone problem over which she prevaricated. Moreover,Elizabeth was Protestant, and Mary was RomanCatholic. The one man who might mediate between thetwo, it was suggested, was the Duke of Norfolk,nomi nally a Protestant, but belonging to an ancientCatholic family whom the Catholics still regarded astheirs. The question of the succession must be settled,but it could not be as long as the two women gloweredat each other. Norfolk was the only man with theprestige to solve the issue. His mistake was to try tosolve it without the Queen's knowledge or consent, andto allow himself to be talked into solving it by advancinghimself. He would marry the Queen of the Scots.

On the face of it, this was not such a bad idea.Mary would succeed Elizabeth on the throne ofEngland, and their offspring would assure the future of

the crown. He was acceptable to both Protestants andCatholics. Nevertheless, it is astonishing that Norfolkshould have considered for one moment either thatMary would have been acceptable to the English, orthat she would have made a decent wife. The truth isthat he hardly decided anything. He drifted with thetide, manipulated by his followers. For once, thefamous Howard pragmatism, the ability to changeallegiance according to the wind, was misjudged.Naturally, with her expert intelligence system and herwary First Minister Cecil, whose antennae werealways alert, Eliza beth found him out. She asked himpoint blank if he intended to marry the Queen of Scots.Norfolk denied it. The Queen did not remind him thatanyone with whom Mary contracted a marriage, oranyone who advised such a course, was ipso factoguilty of treason and would die as a matter of course.Had he forgotten? Typically, his reaction was to nursea new resentment, this time against the career-conscious Cecil.

Whatever he said, Norfolk never relinquished hisplan to marry Mary. For him, it was a question offamilies, of dynasties, of succes sions; it cannot have

been love (although Mary sent him love letters)because they had never seen each other. It was amixture of pride and politics, assuring the succession tothe throne, and assuring that this succession wouldcome to the Howards.19 To this end, he was preparedto lie and dissemble. He wrote an abject letter to theQueen, protesting his loyalty, his love, his honour, andclaiming that he had never entertained an intention ofmarrying the Scottish queen against Elizabeth's will; buthe sent a draft of the letter to Mary for her approvalbefore laying it before Queen Elizabeth.20 Twice hepro mised that he had abandoned all plans of marriage,and twice he lied.

Eventually, Norfolk's amateur conspiracy wasexposed; he was arrested, tried (one of his examinerswas the Earl of Bedford, ancestor of the Duke ofBedford), and imprisoned. He was inevit ablycondemned to death, but the Queen was a long timemaking up her mind to sign the warrant. There hadbeen no state executions since her reign began fourteenyears before, and she had a natural aversion to the useof the scaffold upon which her mother andstep mother had died. Furthermore, Norfolk was her

cousin in blood, and the only Duke in her realm - thefirst man among her subjects. But he was undeniably atraitor, and she was personally affronted that he hadmisused her trust. For five long months she allowedhim to tremble within the Tower walls, before shefinally signed the docu ment in the spring of 1572. Thescaffold had fallen apart with dis use, and a new onehad to be constructed.21 The Duke was beheaded on2nd June, but spared the indignity of having his bowelsripped out and his head stuck on a spike 011 LondonBridge. The Queenwas seen to be very downcast that day, and

unapproachable.22

* * *

A word must be said about the Howardreligion. A chief singu larity of the Dukesof Norfolk is that they are Roman Catholic.No other ducal family survives from theWars of the Roses, which depleted theranks of the English aristocracy to adisastrous degree, so the Dukes of Norfolkmay be said to have adhered to the "old"religion by virtue of historical survival, or

because they were of the "old" nobility. Itis misleading to think of them as alwaysRoman Catholic; for reasons of politicalexpediency, there have been a number ofProtestants among them. The 4th Duke ofNorfolk lived as a Protestant, but was stillregarded as a Catholic. In the monthsbefore he was beheaded in 1572 he wrote along letter to his children, impressive in itsdignity and honesty, but containing adisavowal of the Catholic Church whichdoes not quite ring true. "Upon myblessing beware of blind Papistry, whichbrings nothing but bondage to men'sconsciences", he wrote. "Perchance youhave heretofore heard, or perchance mayhereafter hear, false bruits [rumours] that Iwas a Papist. But trust unto it, I neversince I knew what religion meant, I thankGod, was of other mind than now you shallhear that I die in."2S In view of Norfolk'ssupport for the cause of Mary Queen ofScots, and his tacit acquiescence in theproposed invasion of Catholic armieswhich would rid the country of theProtestant scourge and be welcomed withopen arms by the populace (so theythought), Norfolk's eleventh-hour rejectionof papistry comes as a surprise.

Considering also that his wife and son(Philip, Earl of Arundel) were almostfanatically Catholic, and that this sameletter contains exhortations to avoid pride,to eschew worldly gains, to embracemodesty and self-denial, and not to beheadstrong (advice he had spent a lifetimerejecting), the exercise appears more like astrategem to avoid reprisals against theHowards. It reads like a letter that isintended for publication. As a denial of theCatholic faith by a Howard, it must beregarded as an aberration.

Norfolk's son Philip Howard, Earl of Arundel (i557

-1595), who could not claim the dukedom ofNorfolk which now lay dormant owing to his father'sattainder, was persecuted for his adherence toCatho licism, and imprisoned in the Tower for elevenyears. He wasted and died there, but not beforeincurring more odium by openly praying for the successof the Spanish Armada. This man was eventuallycanonised by the Catholic Church in 1970, and is nowknown as St Philip Howard. Saint or not, his haughtyinsolent manner did not endear him to those who knew

him casually. His son, too, Thomas Earl of Arundel (n585-1646), inherited that besetting vanity of rankwhich has plagued the Howards through centuries. Hedid not suffer himself to be addressed by any beneathhim in status, and went so far as to be sent to theTower for having insulted a fellow peer, Lord Spencer,in 1621. Spencer had made some reflection upon pastevents in their families. Arundel interrupted him rudely:"My Lord," he said, "when these things you speak of,were doing, your ancestors were keeping sheep !" towhich Spencer replied, "When my ancestors, as yousay, were keeping sheep, your ancestors were plottingtreason." Arundel was not released from prison until hehad made an apology.24 Clarendon said that "hethought no other part of history consider able, butwhat related to his own family", and also that he was"without religion".

Owing to their more or less constant Catholicism,the Dukes of Norfolk henceforth retired from thepolitical limelight. The first four dukes had played aleading part in the history of the country for nearly ahundred years, from 1473 until the 4th Duke went tothe block in 1572, but thereafter their religion barred

them from holding political office. Not for 250 yearswere the Norfolks allowed to take their seats in theHouses of Parliament. In 1829 Roman Catholic ReliefBill repaired the injustice, and at last the 12th Duke ofNorfolk (11765-1842), known as "Scroop" or"Twitch", or "Our Barney", took his seat in the Houseof Lords, while his son was the first Roman Catholic to sit in the Commons since the Reformation.

By then the damage of being in a back seat for solong had had its effect. Successive Dukes of Norfolk inthe seventeenth and eight eenth centuries degeneratedinto a series of amiable eccentrics, obsessed with theirown family history and living on the past.The year 1572might have marked the end of the dukedom were it notfor the generosity of Charles II, who revived the title in1660 by Act of Parliament, after it had lain dormant fornearly a hundred years. The man who was thusrestored as 5th Duke of Norfolk (1626-1677) was agibbering idiot who had suffered brain fever at the ageof eighteen from which he never recovered. Sodangerous a lunatic was he, that his next brother LordHenry Howard had packed him off to Italy where hewas kept in confinement and never allowed to set foot

in England again. The titular Earl Marshal was"unapproachable ... an incurable maniac".25 Reresbysaw him in exile and declared that "he laboured underall the Symptoms of Lunacy and Distraction". Hisyounger brothers suspected that this madness was afiction fostered by Henry Howard, who acted as EarlMarshal in the idiot's place, and they petitioned theHouse of Com mons in 1676 to send for the Duke,saying that he was perfectly in command of his senses.The petition was not granted. Reresby and others, whohad no axe to grind, were believed, and the risk ofhaving a lunatic let loose on the country's ceremonialwas not taken.26 He died unmarried in Italy, his bodybrought back by laboursome journey, to England,where it was buried one whole year after death. Hisbrother Henry Howard succeeded him as 6th Duke ofNorfolk (1628-1684).

The 7th Duke of Norfolk (1655-1701) isremembered for a witty remark he isreputed to have made to James II,27 andfor the notorious affair his wife had withthat handsome soldier of fortune, Sir JohnGermain. The Duchess's adultery wasflaunted about town in a way which made

a laughing-stock of the poor Duke.Germain would frequently stay at one ofthe Norfolks' country seats, where he wasallocated a bedroom adjacent to theDuchess's own bedroom. The two roomscommunicated by a false cupboard, whichone walked into, then climbed over awooden partition, and walked out of againinto the next room. The partition inside thecupboard was six feet high, but did notreach the ceiling. One day the Duke cameunex pectedly to his wife's bedroom, andfinding the door locked, demanded entry.Germain was of course in bed with her. Hehad time only to leap out of bed, and on tothe partition, where he sat perilously anduncomfortably, naked but for a shirt, notdaring to drop down the other side for fearthat he would be heard. To make mattersworse, the Duchess's pet lap-dog followedhim to the par tition, and barked at him allthe time, wagging his tail and thoroughlyenjoying the fun. The Duke, strange tosay, in spite of the racket, did not discoverGermain hiding on his perch.28The affairfinally exploded in the courts in 1692. TheDuke sued Germain for damages "for lyingwith the Duchess", claiming £100,000. Hewon his case, but the jury awarded him a

miserable 100 marks only, presumablybecause they knew that he had a mistresshimself and London was anyway boredwith the spectacle of the Duke andDuchess fighting over lovers. The judgefulminated against him, telling the jury that"he was sorry the world should know howlow virtue and chastity were held inEngland".29 Anne Bagnalls wrote: "Thetown rings of the Duke of Norfolk'sdivorce, which will come to nothing butpublishing each other's infamy."30 Howright she was.

The Duke died of apoplexy at the age offorty-six, and was suc ceeded by hisnephews the 8th Duke (1683-1732) and the9th Duke (1686-1777), who was a timidmouse of a man, married to a shrewishvirago of a Duchess. It was she who gavethe orders, he who obeyed. She waspractically Duke of Norfolk herself, andwas even called "My Lord Duchess" bythose with a sense of humour. At a house-warming party she gave, which "all theearth" attended, Walpole says that "therewas all the company afraid of the Duchess,and the Duke afraid of all the company".31

Lady A. Irwin corrobo rates theimpression of a Laurel and Hardy marriage.The Duchess, she says, "must act the manwhere talking is necessary".32

At all events, the marriage waschildless, but so many Howards wereabout that there was no danger of thedukedom becoming extinct. It passed tohis second cousin, son of Mr CharlesHoward, who as 10th Duke of Norfolk(1720-1786) was another eccentric figure ofthe elegant eighteenth century, a "drunkenold mad fellow" who "dressed like aCardinal".33 But his eccentricity was tamecom pared with the wild excesses of hisson the nth Duke, a theatrical, extravagantcharacter who is one of those larger-than-life aristocrats, like the 4th Duke ofQueensberry (Old Q), whose personalityelbows all others off the pages of socialhistory.

The 11th Duke of Norfolk (1746-1815)was corpulent, sweaty, muscle-bound, andgraceless. He moved, dressed, and ate in aclumsy manner, was perpetually drunk,and never washed. "In cleanliness he wasnegligent to so great a degree", writes

someone who knew him well, "that herarely made use of water for purposes ofbodily refreshment and comfort. He evencarried the neglect of his person so far,that his servants were accustomed to availthemselves of his fits of intoxicati.cn, forthe purpose of washing him." Theservants would lay him out on the floor,undress him, and wash him head to toewhile he was semi-conscious, or indeedout cold. He would other wise presumablyhave smelt intolerably. He complained oneday to

Dudley North that he suffered badly from rheumatism,and had tried every remedy without effect. "Pray, myLord," said North, "did you ever try a clean shirt ?"34

"Jockey of Norfolk" or "The Jockey", as the nthDuke was called, surpassed all competitors in theconsumption of wine. He was the most famous drunkof the eighteenth century. The Duke's capa city todrink anyone under the table, and then proceed toanother party to start all over again, was well known.He could drink five or six times as much as anyone elsebefore he would feel the effect. When finally the wineovercame him, after perhaps a whole night of

debauchery to which drinking was only a prologue, hewould collapse at dawn in the streets, where hisharassed servants would find him sleeping peacefully inthe gutter or on a bench.

His boon companion in these excesses was thePrince of Wales. Together, the Prince and the Dukewere frequently seen, arms sup porting each other,staggering up the street. Years later, the Prince and hisroyal brothers determined to make the Duke so drunkthat he would forfeit his crown as champion imbiber.He was invited to a drinking party at the Pavilion inBrighton. He drove over from Arundel Castle, with hisfamous equipage of grey horses. Tumblers of winewere mixed with tumblers of brandy, the old mandrinking one glass with everyone singly, so that hefinished by consuming about ten times more thananyone else. The companions fell one by one likeninepins, and the Duke continued, unsteady butstanding. Finally, he said he must go home, called forhis carriage, and slumped within it. The royal princes,aching with merriment and swooning against the walls,waved him off, having instructed the coachman to drivehim round in circles. The poor old Duke thought he

was going home to Arundel, but he was driven aroundand around the Brighton Pavilion for half an hour, fellout at the end of the "journey", and into a bed, wakingup the next morning to find he had been tricked intostaying the night.35

Parallel with astonishing capacity for wine, Jockeypossessed in equal measure an infinitely expandablestomach. He was the greatest gourmand of his timeand the most venerated member of the Beef steakClub, where he was always ceremoniously ushered toa Chair of State some steps higher than the rest of thediners. He would get through two or three steaks morequickly than they could be served up to him, and whenit appeared that he could not possibly take any more,he would clean his plate ready for a fourth. Amazingly,his conversation seems not to have suffered from theonslaught. The strongest port failed to deaden hisculture or wit.

It was the Duke of Norfolk and his royal chum whoeffected a revolution in eating habits in London societyby establishing late hours. At the beginning of theeighteenth century it was customary to dine at fouro'clock. By the 1770s this had advanced to seven

o'clock for most people, or midnight for those whoknew the habits of the Duke of Norfolk. It becamefashionable to eat later and later, and to stay up allnight. Walpole wrote: "The present folly is late hours.Everyone tried to be particular by being too late; and aseverybody tries it, nobody is so. It is the fashion now togo to Ranelagh [where concerts were given at seven]two hours after it is over. You may not believe this, butit is literal. The music ends at ten; the company goes attwelve." People simply spent much less time sleepingthan they do nowadays.36

It was while dining with the Prince at one of theselate parties that the news was conveyed to Jockey thathe had been deprived by the King of all his offices. Acouple of days before he had proposed a toast at theCrown and Anchor "to the sovereign majesty of thepeople", a sentiment which was seditious to say theleast, and not far short of treasonable. Of course, theDuke was drunk at the time, but nonetheless he had tobe shown that he had gone too far. When he tried tostrike up conversation with the King shortly afterwards,George cut him short in mid-sentence, saying, "Apropos, my lord, have you seen 'Blue Beard' ?"

In order to hold office and to sit in Parliament (thiswas half a century before the Catholic Relief Bill),Jockey had renounced the Roman Catholic religion in1780, but he remained a Catholic at heart for all that,especially when drunk, as everyone in the House knew.He was not always sober there either.

Another of Jockey's drinking companions was a MrHuddlestone, who after one night of intoxication fell offhis chair to the floor. A younger Howard went to assistthe man to his feet, but the drunkard would have noneof it. "Never shall it be said that the head of the houseof Huddlestone was lifted from the ground by ayounger branch of the house of Howard," he bellowed.The good-humoured Duke responded well. "The headof the house of Howard is too drunk to pick up thehead of the house of Huddlestone," he said, "but he willlie down beside him with all the pleasure in the world."

And he lay on the floor.38

Glimpses like this show that old Jockey was far morethan the "dirty devil" that unkind Creevey called him, farmore than a miser able drunkard, and it explains why,in spite of his eccentricities, he was enormously

popular. He was never a violent drunk, neveroffen sive, never really objectionable. He wasessentially a good man whom life had treated badly. Hehad married twice, and his second wife, who survivedhim, had become a lunatic. Lady Holland put his caseneatly. "The Duke of Norfolk is an extraordinaryinstance of the impossibility of situation being sufficientto secure happiness : he, how ever, finds in his owngood temper an antidote to all the vexations of his life.He has all that rank, dignity, and wealth can give; hemar ried a beautiful woman whose person he liked,possessed of £15,000 per annum. About eight yearsafter she became mad, and from being intestate herimmense possessions escheat to the Crown, there beingno male heir to the Scudamores. It appears to be ahardship that the laws afford no relief to a person unitedto one insane, as no pretext can be more valid towardsthe dissolution of a marriage than an obstacle of thatnature that impedes the fulfilling of every functionbelonging to the institution. He maintains with solidmag nificence the splendour of his rank; everythingabout him bespeaks wealth and luxurious comfort. Hisservants are old domestics, fat, sleek, and happy; his

table is profuse and exquisite. His taste is bad; he lovessociety, but has no selection, and swallows wine forquantity, not quality: he is gross in everything. TheDuchess' madness has taken a sombre, farouche turn :she hates all mankind. The clergyman during a lucidinterval advised her to read religious books, suppliedher with some, and mingled his advice with piousexhortations. She acquiesced, and took the books. Afew days after she returned them with scorn, saying, 'Iwish I could believe your damned trumpery, as I shouldthen be certain two-thirds of mankind would roast inHell.' It was curious that in the Gospels she could findmatter to gratify her malignity. The Duke behavesuncommonly well to her."39

We, in an age less obsequious towardsrevealed truth, might find it not so"curious" and if this be an example of theDuchess's ravings, they appear more akinto solid good sense. But in truth she wasmuch further gone than this. Wraxallspeaks of her "disordered intellect", andthe Public Record Office contains pages ofinformation about her insanity, as therecords relating to the Scudamoreinheritance reside there.

The Duke made up for the deprivationof "every function belong ing to theinstitution" of marriage in his ownbeguiling manner. Driving through thevillage of Greystoke in Cumberland withhis steward, he saw hordes of childrenwaving at them from both sides of theroad. "Whose are all these children?" heasked. The steward answered, "Some aremine, Your Grace, and some are yours."

In 1783, three centuries after the creation of thedukedom of Norfolk in the Howard family, Jockeydetermined to hold a big party at Arundel Castle for "allthe blood of all the Howards", to which everydescendant of the 1st Duke would be invited tocelebrate. He was forced to abandon the idea whencalculations showed that over 6000 people would haveto be included.

In old age, Jockey of Norfolk grew so large that hecould hardly get through a door of ordinaryproportions. But he was not fat in the belly - he wassimply of huge girth all over, a living giant. His death in1815 left a large gap, in bulk as much as inpersonality.40

The nineteenth-century Dukes of Norfolk are a muchquieter col lection of men. With the 15th Duke (1847-1917) we approach very close to the present day, forthis devout, unwordly man is the father of the Dukewho died recently. As he came to the title in 1860, onlytwo men held that title for the HI 5 years until 1975.

The 15th Duke was the most religious of all theHowards, a deeply brooding ascetic who spent moneybuilding churches rather than buying clothes; he alwaysdressed shabbily, was frequently mis taken for a tramp,and was often offered money, so poor did he look.Strangers whom he helped at railway stations wouldoffer him tips. One woman visitor to the grounds ofArundel Castle told him to get off the grass, and aSalvation Army girl, when she saw his blue Garterribbon, thought he was one of the Army.41 Thechurches he built were St Philip Neri at Arundel and achurch at Norwich which was one of the largest builtsince the Reformation. As the senior lay representativein England, he wielded much unseen power in theChurch of Rome, as did his late son. It was owing tohis influence that John Henry Newman was made aCardinal.

The Duke was a saintly man, more so in fact than theancestor Earl of Arundel who has since beencanonised; he was a profoundly good and gentle soul.But, as so often happens with those whose goodnesssprings from conviction, he was not always an easyman to contend with. Devotion to the Catholic Churchwas the principle to which all else must needs besubordinated. Hence his support for Newman, who,though not an agreeable man, was a Catholic. TheDuke's first wife was Lady Flora Hastings, aProtestant. Whether the Duke made it a condition oftheir marriage or not, she became a Catholic, much tothe displeasure of her family, who would have nothingmore to do with her.41 The Duchess, too, was a saintof a kind, a wonderfully simple and good character. Ifany couple deserved to be happy, they did, yet it wasupon them that catas trophe of the cruellest sortdescended. Their son, heir to the highest dukedom ofthe realm, was mentally defective.

Philip Joseph Mary Fitzalan-Howard, Earl ofSurrey and Arundel (1879-1902), who would in thenormal course of events have been the next Duke ofNorfolk, grew up an almost complete invalid.

Practically blind, deaf and dumb, with the mind of aninfant, there was never any hope that the boy wouldrecover the use of his brain, although the Duke turnedto his religion time and again for assis tance, makingthe pilgrimage to Lourdes twenty-five times. The entireCatholic world prayed for him. As if this was notenough, the good Duchess died after ten years ofmarriage, leaving the Duke alone with his idiot son. Hespent every possible hour as companion to the boy,lavishing care and attention with barely a flicker ofintelligent res ponse.

Philip died in 1902, at the age of twenty-three. Heleft £558 in his will. His father said, "After all, my boyhas given more glory to God than any of us. Look atthe Masses, novenas and pilgrimages of which he hasbeen the occasion."43 He endowed a piece of land inYorkshire for the reception, maintenance, treatmentand education of children suffering from physicaldisability or infirmity.

The Duke's life was, then, mostly private,devotional, and tragic. His forays into public life were,however, successful. Lady Warwick records theopinion that he was the best Postmaster-General

ever;44 it is to him that we owe the custom, now takenfor granted, that letters which go astray may be re-addressed and re-delivered free of charge. His othercontribution to public life was to restore the elabo rateceremonial for the coronation (in his capacity as EarlMarshal), which had fallen into neglect. He arrangedthe coronations of Edward VII in 1901 and George Vin 1910.

Having no direct heir, the Duke was married againin 1904 to a woman thirty years younger than himself,Baroness Herries in her own right. The products of thisunion were three daughters and Bernard MarmadukeFitzalan-Howard, who in 1917, at the age of nine,succeeded to a bewildering list of duties and titles as16th Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal of England.

From the beginning, it was made clear to the littleboy that he was very special. He was brought up byhis uncle Lord Fitzalan of Derwent in the fullconsciousness of his unique position as Earl Marshalwith precedence over almost every other subject in theking dom, and trained by him to assume the rigorousduties of his office. It was the kind of upbringing thatwould have turned any other young man's head, but as

he was a Howard, he knew in his blood that all thiswas his by right, and he was not at all perturbed by it.He was educated to think of himself almost as royalty.

The days when the Duke of Norfolk was precededthrough the streets by trumpeters and followed by aretinue of a hundred men, when he was met five milesoutside London by heralds who escorted him into thecapital, and when crowds lined the street to see himpass, all that may be over;45 but enough of the aura ofthe dukedom remains for him to be revered even in thetwentieth century as folk-king of Sussex. Some of thatmystical, quasi-divine quality clings yet to the Duke ofNorfolk. On the late Duke's coming of age in 1929,there were celebrations lasting three days in the town ofArundel. The Duke made what amounted to a royalprogress through the streets, crowded with thetownspeople, his "subjects", who turned outsymbolically to aver their allegiance. His Grace wasreceived by the Mayor, who made an appropriatespeech. Then he drove in an open carriage toLittlehampton (the greater part of the town belonged tohim), while people lined the route to see him, the streetswere decorated, and the town band gave him a rousing

welcome. Shops in Arundel closed after midday, and apublic holiday was declared. Schools were entertainedat a fete in the grounds of the castle. A month later,20,000 people joined in similar celebrations at NorfolkPark, Sheffield.46 There was yet more public rejoicingat the Duke's marriage in 1937. The spirit of suchoccasions is medieval, even pagan in its unconsciousritual. Deep veneration was felt for the antiquity of theDuke's title and dignity, especially in Arundel where, asthe Earl of Arundel, he possessed the charisma of adivine king which can only be explained by the people'sinnate, unconscious need for local mythology to bepassed from generation to generation.

Since William rose and Harold fellThere have been Earls of Arundel.

It is the oldest earldom in the peerage of England, anduntil 1627 it was held as of right by anyone who ownedArundel Castle; in other words, it was a titleindependent of patents of creation. This is why, in1572, the son of the attainted Duke of Norfolk was stillknown as Earl of Arundel, although all other titles had

been forfeited. It was not within the power orjurisdiction of Parliament to withdraw the earldom,which was Philip Howard's right as long as he heldArundel Castle. Little wonder, then, that since theancient earldom was allied to the ancient dukedom,successive incumbents have exerted unseen powerupon the collective imagination of the local people.

The other singularity which sets Norfolk apart fromall other dukes is his hereditary post as Earl Marshal ofEngland. Unlike some other such positions (as, forexample, the Duke of St Albans, who is HereditaryGrand Falconer, but never goes near a falcon), the EarlMarshal has a job to do, and a job of such complexitythat there are only a handful of people who would havethe knowledge to deputise for him. This is the work forwhich Bernard Norfolk was trained by his uncle, andwhich he performed to the sound of universal praise.The Earl Marshal is ultimate and alone in hisresponsibility to the Sovereign for all ceremonialoccasions, for which onerous charge he is paid a fee of£20 per annum. The fee was fixed by Richard III in1483 when he appointed the 1st Duke of Norfolk EarlMarshal, and fixed in perpetuity. The King also directed

that the Earl Marshal should carry a staff with the royalarms in gold at one end, and at the other, the arms ofthe Duke of Norfolk. The Duke still carries this staff.The first Earl Marshal had been even earlier, in 1385,when the post was held by a Mowbray Duke ofNorfolk; before that, they had been simply Marshals.

The late Duke's first duty was to arrange the funeralof George V, after which he was responsible for theproclamations of Edward VIII, George VI andElizabeth II, the funerals of George VI, Queen Mary,and Sir Winston Churchill, and finally the investiture ofPrince Charles as Prince of Wales. At the first of these,he was only twenty- seven years old. At all of them, heshowed the same astonishing grasp of detail as hisfather had, and the same relentless pursuit ofperfection. There was a time when the elaborateceremonial of the coronation was understood by noone. When Queen Victoria was crowned, she was nottold where to sit, what to say, when to get up, or whathappened next. Her coronation was not far short of ashambles. Nowadays, thanks to the Duke, it is themost precise and splendid pageant in the world.

The Earl Marshal is not merely a stage-manager of

state occasions. He is head of the College of Heralds,and as such exercises an authority independent of histitles. It is he who may ultimately decide what arms anewly created peer may bear, and by what title he maybe known. He decides on matters of precedence. Thestaff at the College of Heralds is responsible to him.

The Duke was careful to avoid one embarrassingcase of heraldry on which he might have been called tomake a decision, since it affected his own coat of arms.The Norfolk coat bears an augment ation known asthe Flodden augmentation, granted to the victor of thatbattle, along with restoration of the dukedom ofNorfolk and regrant of some lands. The difficulty is thatthe Flodden augmentation was granted with remainderto heirs general of the grantee, while the dukedomwas granted to heirs male. The result of this should bethat only Lords Mowbray and Petre have the right tobear the augment ation, and not the Duke of Norfolk.(Other Howard descendants, the Earls of Carlisle andSuffolk for example, bear the augmentation on theirarms.) We were denied, however, the cheerfulspectacle of the Duke dragging himself before his ownCourt. It remains to be seen if the new Duke will allow

the matter to be examined. (The Complete Peerage,Vol. X, Appendix N, says that this was all a mistakeon the part of the King, and that the Floddenaugmentation was intended to descend with thedukedom.)

The Earl Marshal was originally subordinate to theConstable (a military office), and the historicalprecedence of the Lord High Constable is marked tothis day by his ranking on the right of the monarch atcoronations, while the Earl Marshal is on the left.

The popular press has on occasion exaggerated theduties of the Earl Marshal in its desire to make of him a'superstar' in accordance with the demands of modernpublic life. The late Duke was not infallible oromnipotent. When the funeral of the Duke of Windsortook place in London, for instance, many of thearrangements were undertaken by the LordChamberlain's office, while Fleet Street continued toassume that Norfolk was responsible for it all.

It is a curious tolerance, one likes to think peculiarlyEnglish, which allows the most solemn ritual in theChurch of England, when the Head of the Church iscrowned, to be within the total control of the senior

Roman Catholic in the country. The evening before thecoronation the keys of Westminster Abbey are handedto the Duke of Norfolk. When Bernard Marmadukebecame 16th Duke of Norfolk he inherited nearly50,000 acres. The restrictions of twentieth-century lifegradually encroached upon these holdings until he wasleft with 24,000 acres. In St James's Square stoodNorfolk House, which had been the London residenceof the family since 1684. This was sold in 1937, andpulled down; the furniture was auctioned. In 1931 thetown of Littlehampton (or the half of it which belongedto the Duke) was sold, and part of the Arundel estatewent in 1950. In 1959 the Duke moved out of ArundelCastle, which he had once said was to him "practicallyeverything there is",47 to a five-bedroomed house whichhe built in the park. The castle itself, with its 150rooms, and forbidding aspect, had ceased to be anattractive or economical place to live, although,undaunted, the 17th Duke has announced his intentionof living there. When Creevey saw it in the last centuryhe wrote: "The devil himself could make nothing of theinterior. Anything so horrid and dark and frightful in allthings I never beheld."48 It is open to the public.

The most lucrative portion of the estate is three and aquarter acres just south of the Strand, which have beenin the family since 1549. Arundel Street, NorfolkStreet, Maltravers Street, and Howard Street all formpart of this site. Now, of course, the new Duke ofNorfolk has added to the family holdings the extensivelands he owned before he came to the dukedom.

Bernard Norfolk was a taciturn, withdrawn man, shybut sure of himself. He had few opinions, but they wereall unshakeable, and mostly half a century behind thoseof his contemporaries. His right to be right wasunassailable. When he received criticism he was notresentful but amazed; he could not comprehend thatanother view might be possible. In this he was like the4th Duke of Norfolk, who antagonised Elizabeth I somuch and eventually lost his head. He failed to enterOxford, but since it was Oxford's loss, he did not mind.At the entrance examination he found himself sittingnext to an Asian student. "If they preferred his presenceto mine at the university, they were welcome to him," hesaid. The newspapers, obsessed with trivia andsaturated with wrong opinions, annoyed him. "If I hadmy way," he said, "I'd shut down half the newspapers in

the country, and keep a tight censorship on the others,except The Times."

With his gruff manner, heavy-lidded eyes, andbluntness which was just short of dismissive, he wasone of the rare surviving noblemen who managed tocaricature themselves. At the investititure of the Princeof Wales in 1970 the Duke had to deal with theSecretary of State for Wales, George Thomas, son of aRhondda miner. Thomas offered him a cup of tea."Never touch the stuff," replied Norfolk. The Welshmanthen went to the cupboard to get some alcoholic drinks."Wrong time of day," said the Duke, and that was theend of that. The two men later became friendly enough.The Duke said, "I am going to call you George, and youwill call me Bernard," and Thomas says he felt it was anorder.

He treated everyone with the same brisk laconicprecision. Stories of his behaviour at the coronation arelegion. "If the bishops don't learn to walk in step weshall be here all night" he is reported to have said; andto the Archbishop of Canterbury, "No, no, Archbishop,that won't do at all. Go back there and we'll do it allagain. "He was not at all aware that his no-nonsense

approach, shorn of all unnecessary adornment, couldbe extremely funny. At dinner he was heard to turn to alady guest on his right and say, "Now; I have only twotopics of conversation - cricket and drains. Choose."He claimed that he did not know when he was beingamusing, and what's more, he did not care.

The Howards have always been men of few words.On one occasion Lord Carlisle and his brother travelledabroad together, and slept in the same room at an inn inGermany. There was a third bed in the room with thecurtains drawn round it. Two days later, one brotherturned to the other and said, "Did you see what was inthat bed in our room the other night?" and the otheranswered, "Yes." That was all the conversation theyhad on the matter, yet they had both seen a dead bodyin the bed.50

Norfolk was also impatient of politicians with theirmeandering style and clever evasions, being himselfdevastatingly direct and monosyllabic. When in 1970his trainer was fined £500 by the Jockey Club forirregular practices, the Duke determined to havenothing more to do with them. He would not enter intoan argument, and never forgave them. One of the

reasons he got on so well with Richard Dimbleby, forwhom he wrote an obituary in The Times, was becauseDimbleby had a businesslike attitude similar to his own.He could not bear fuss or delay.

Norfolk married Miss Lavinia Strutt, a Protestant, in1937. They had four daughters, and no son. Thedukedom passed in 1975 to Lord Beaumont, BaronHoward of Glossop, who is descended from the 13thDuke of Norfolk. In 1966 Bernard Marmaduke hadsettled a million pounds on Lord Beaumont's son,Edward, born in 1956.

However austere, aloof and correct he may haveappeared, Norfolk enjoyed respect for his profoundsense of duty and public service, and affection for hisobvious belief that the aristocracy must set an exampleby getting down to the job in hand and doing it well.This affection is something for which his training did notprepare him, and it was the only aspect of his public lifewhich troubled his calm. Just before the coronation in1953 he gave a press conference after which theassembled journalists, many of radical persuasion, roseto their feet in unison and gave him a spontaneousapplause which visibly surprised him. And at the

coronation of George VI he found himself mobbed by aCockney crowd slapping him on the back and shouting"Well done, Bernard!" He must have wondered whathe had done wrong.51

The man who succeeded as 17th Duke of Norfolk in1975 is in a different style altogether. Being a remotecousin, he has come to the title by a "wavy line" whichwould not have veered in his direction at all if one of thelate Duke's children had been a boy. He is not over-impressed by his luck. "Succeeding by death is a poorway of getting on," he says. "I am much prouder ofhaving been a general."52

As Miles Fitzalan-Howard he graduated Bachelor ofArts at Christ Church, Oxford, then proceeded into theGrenadier Guards, with a thirty-year military career infront of him, rising to the rank of major- general, andcollecting various distinctions along the way (MalteseCross, C.B.E., C.B.). He was Director of ServiceIntelligence at the Ministry of Defence for a period, andHead of the British Military Mission to Russian Forcesin Germany. He retired in 1967, and settled to a morepeaceful life with his wife Anne Maxwell, two sons, andthree daughters. Fitzalan-Howard then went into the

City, as director of a merchant bank.Within four years, from 1971 to 1975, a giddy

succession of titles descended upon him. He succeededhis father as Baron Howard of Glossop (which is whereone finds the Norfolk connection. The title of Howardof Glossop was created in 1869 for the second son ofthe 13th Duke of Norfolk as a "consolation peerage" tocompensate for his failure to get elected M.P. forPreston; he had represented Arundel in the House ofCommons for fourteen years from 1852 to 1868). Thefollowing year his mother died, passing on to him herown more ancient dignity, the barony of Beaumont,created in 1309 for the second cousin of Edward II.This title fell into abeyance in 1895, when the 10thBaron Beaumont killed himself accidentally with ashotgun when crossing a stile. This man, happily for hisdescendant, was converted to Roman Catholicism in1880. The R.C. community in England would havebeen very shaken with a Protestant Duke of Norfolk.The barony was called out of abeyance in 1896 infavour of the present Duke's mother, then aged two.

As soon as the mantle of Norfolk fell upon him, heaccepted the challenge ruefully, making no secret of his

wish that the wavy line had taken another direction.Never before the centre of so much national attention,he takes publicity in his stride, with more of a desire toplease than his predecessor, less impatience, lessintolerance. The Howard bluntness, the cause of somuch trouble in the past and source of so muchendearment in more recent times, runs withundiminished vigour in Norfolk's veins. If he isembarrassed by the fuss, he will say so.

* * *

By an apt coincidence, the dukedom of Somersetwas restored in the same year as the dukedom ofNorfolk - 1660, 108 years after the execution ofEdward Seymour, the 1st Duke, and eighty-eight yearsafter the execution of Thomas Howard, 4th Duke ofNorfolk. Thus were the descendants of the rivalfamilies, once bitter enemies, restored to their properdignity at the same time. The man who then became2nd Duke of Somerset for a month (he also died in1660) was William Seymour, great-grandson of the 1stDuke, and Marquess of Hertford since 1641. He was ascholarly man, Chancellor of the University of Oxford

1643-1647 and again in 1660, a natural student. But itwas for an adventure in love that the world knew hisname.

When Master William Seymour wasfifteen years old he was the object ofpassionate attentions from Lady ArabellaStuart, who was then twenty-seven. Thiswould be no more than cause for amusinggossip were it not for the fact that Arabellawas first cousin to James I, beingdescended from Henry VII throughMargaret Tudor and therefore high in lineof succession to the throne. No member ofthe Royal Family was allowed to fall inlove without the Sovereign's approval, andJames severely scolded his cousin,ordering her to break off the affair, whichwas quite unsuitable. Not only wasWilliam Seymour a pubescent boy, but hewas not even heir apparent to hisgrandfather's title of Earl of Hertford, beinga second son. The future revival of thedukedom of Somerset was not then evencon templated, and it would not havefallen upon him anyway. Arabella obeyed,but not without protesting that they weredeeply and truly in love. Events were toprove her sincere.

The affair resumed in 1610, by whichtime he was twenty-two and she thirty-four. Their romance, more dramatic thanany fiction, came to a head when theymarried clandestinely at Greenwich,without the King's consent, which, shebeing of royal blood, was essential. Theywere discovered and imprisoned, he in theTower, she at Lam beth. They were treatedwith such leniency that he appears to havebeen allowed to visit her in prison while hewas still nominally in chains himself. It wasan easy matter for them to hatch a plot forescape.

Arabella escaped first, dressed as a man. Seymour wasto follow her. He walked out of the Tower of Londonhaving changed clothes with his barber, and hastened tothe continent in search of his wife. She, meanwhile, hadbeen caught, and sent to the Tower. The young loversnever saw each other again. She was confined in theTower for the rest of her short life, where she graduallylost her mind. She was quite insane when she died in1615. Seymour eventually came back to England,married Frances Devereux, sister of the Earl of Essex,in 1618, and led subsequently a more sedentary life.

He died four weeks after being restored as 2nd Dukeof Somerset in 1660.83

The Dukes of Somerset then went into a declinemore absolute and more hedged in obscurity than theDukes of Norfolk. The 3rd Duke inherited at the ageof eight, and died at the age of nineteen of anunspecified "malignant fever" following a riotouslibertine existence." The 5th Duke (1658-1678) methis end in Italy at the age of twenty. He was with someFrench friends who foolishly insulted the wife of aGenovese gentleman called Horatio Botti. The touchyItalian knocked on the Duke's door, and when heanswered, shot him dead on the spot.56

The 6th Duke of Somerset (1662-1748) was thebrother of the dead man, and was descended from ayounger son of the 1st Duke. He is the largestcharacter in the Seymour gallery, an absurdly pompouseccentric who holds a place in the history of the familyanalogous to that held by Jockey of Norfolk in theHoward history. There is a difference, however.Jockey of Norfolk, though he drank too much, wasloved. The "Proud Duke", 6th of Somerset, wasloathed.

He was not without his abilities, but held them inhigher regard than anyone else did. He came to the titleat the age of sixteen, was Gentleman of theBedchamber to both Charles II and James II, wasmade Knight of the Garter at twenty-one. Laterdistinctions included the Lord President of the Counciland Master of the Horse. He made a spectacularmarriage. His bride was Lady Elizabeth Percy,Countess of Ogle, daughter and sole heiress of the lastEarl of Northumberland; she brought to the marriageand to the growing ego of the Duke of Somerset all thePercy estates and revenues, includingNorthumber land House in the Strand, AlnwickCastle, Petworth, and Syon House. Further, his brideheld in her own right six of the oldest baronies in thekingdom, those of Percy, Lucy, Poynings, Fitz-Payne,Bryan, and Latimer. The Duke's self-importancehenceforth knew no bounds, though it was all derivedfrom his wife, as was almost all his money.She, strange to say, at sixteen was already twice awidow. She had first married at the age of thirteenHenry Cavendish, Earl of Ogle. He died shortlyafterwards, aged eighteen, and young Elizabeth was

again on the market. She was pursued by ThomasThynne of Longleat, a rogue and philanderer, andCount Koenigsmark, a hot- blooded continentalnobleman. Being worth a considerable fortune the girlwas under all kinds of pressures to place it somewhere,and Thynne was chosen as the most likely beneficiary.She married him in some secrecy, then promptlydisappeared, having told her servants that she wantedto buy some plate, and instructed them to wait for heroutside the Old Exchange, by her carriage. She did notreturn, but fled to seek the protection of Lady Temple,wife of the ambassador in Holland. Clearly, she wasscared, as well she might be; her new husband wasmurdered in Pall Mall by hired assassins of his rivalKoenigsmark.

The Duke of Somerset was this adolescent's thirdhusband. As part of the marriage settlement, he wasobliged to adopt the name Percy (which wouldotherwise disappear), but she later released him fromthis clause. The drama of her short history made her afit object for lampoons. Swift wrote this impromptupiece, full of wicked implica tions (she had flaming redhair and was nicknamed "Carrots"):

Beware of Carrots from Northumberlond.Carrots sown Thyn a deep root may get,If so they are in Sommer set.Their Conyngs mark them, for I have been told.

They assassine when young and poison whenold.

Preening himself with pleasure, blossoming with thearrogance of rank, the Proud Duke loved nothing morethan to put on his splendid robes. He relishedceremonies and grand occasions, anything which gavehim an excuse to display his splendour. But he wouldonly allow himself to be seen by those whose status insociety made them worthy of such an honour. He neversuffered the lower classes to set eyes upon him. Hewent so far as to build houses at strategic pointsbetween London and Petworth so that he would notbe obliged, on making the journey between hisproperties, to stay at an inn. Courtiers were sent onahead of him to clear the roads, so that his progressmight proceed without obstruction. People were toldto make them selves scarce, because His Grace didnot deign to be seen by commoners. One manresponded to this command in the only way merited,

by thrusting a pig in the Duke's face. As Macaulaywrote, he was "a man in whom the pride of birth andrank amounted almost to a disease".56

Accounts of his stupid arrogance are abundant. Onone occasion, his second wife tapped him lightly withher fan. "Madam," he said imperiously, "my firstDuchess was a Percy, and she never took such aliberty." When his daughter Charlotte had the temerityto sit down in his presence, the Duke immediatelydeprived her of £20,000 of her inheritance.Stories such as these would be even more amusing

were it not for the malignant cruelty which theyconceal. For Somerset's pride was truly so grotesquethat it made misery for his family. One laughed at him,and pitied those near him. Like Monsieur Jourdain inMoliere's Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Somersetallowed his ridiculous obsessions to poison any naturalfilial love he may have felt. For example, he had a habitof dozing on his couch after dinner. It was the duty ofhis youngest daughter to sit and watch him while heslept. One day she left him, and he rolled off to thefloor. When he woke up and found himself on the floorhe was so furious that he forbade everyone in the

house to speak to her, although they were to treat herwith respect as his daughter. This torment went on foran entire year, the family and servants not daring toopen their mouths to the poor girl, still less to approachHis Grace to find out when or if the prohibition was tobe lifted. So it was never known if he had forgiven her."His whole stupid life was a series of pride andtyranny", said Walpole.58

His worst offence was to explode with anger againsthis son Lord Hertford because his grandson LordBeauchamp died at the age of nineteen, thus deprivinghis line of an heir. Walpole tells the tale. "He haswritten the most shocking letter imaginable to poorLord Hertford", he writes, "telling him that it is ajudgement upon him for all his undutifulness, and thathe must always look upon himself as the cause of hisson's death. Lord Hertford is as good a man as lives,and has always been most unreasonably ill-used bythat old tyrant. The title of Somerset will revert to SirEdward Seymour."59 Sir Edward was Speaker of theHouse of Commons, and is credited with having putthe Proud Duke in his place in conversation with KingWilliam. The King said to him, "Sir Edward, I think

you are of the Duke of Somerset's family?" to which hereplied, "No, Sir; he is of mine."To appreciate the import of Sir Edward Seymour's

remark, we have to travel back to the beginning of thedukedom of Somerset and gingerly climb genealogicaltrees.The Proud Duke, 6th in line, died in 1748, aged

eighty-seven. His son succeeded as 7th Duke, was thefollowing year created Earl of Northumberland, toperpetuate the title of his mother's family, the Percys,and since he had no sons after the death of LordBeauchamp, special arrangements were made for theearldom to pass to the heirs of his son-in-law HughSmithson, who then became the ancestor of the presentDuke of Northumberland.

A crisis occurred in the dukedom of Somerset, thefirst of several to beset this title, when the 7th Dukedied the following year, 1750, bringing the line ofdescent to an abrupt end.

The 1st Duke of Somerset, Edward Seymour theLord Protector (1500-1552) had married twice. Thefirst marriage, to Katherine Fillol, was not an entiresuccess. The paternity of their first son was suspect,

and there was talk that Seymour was furious becausethe baby was born while he was absent for manymonths in France. When in 1547 he bad himselfcreated Duke of Somerset he had already been marriedagain to Anne Stanhope, and he made the patent ofcreation specify an entail which placed the issue of thissecond marriage (the junior branch) in preference to theissue of the first marriage (the senior branch) by reasonof Katherine Fillol's infidelity. The first son was cut outentirely. In order, the dukedom was to descend to

1. heirs male of himself and hissecond wife

2. heirs male by any future wife

3. to Edward, the second son by hisfirst wife

4. to his brothers

5. to his heirs female

So, the first seven Dukes of Somerset weredescended from Anne Stanhope. In 1750 the

dignity reverted to the issue of the first marriageand Sir Edward Seymour, who claimed it, was adirect descendant of the second son by the firstwife Katherine Fillol. (The first son, of dubiouslegitimacy, had conveniently died unmarried in1552.) When Sir Edward Seymour the Speakertold King William that the Duke of Somersetbelonged to his family rather than the other wayround, he was not merely being funny. In thenormal course his branch of the family wouldhave had precedence from the very beginning,being heirs of the body of Edward Seymour, theLord Protector's eldest surviving son.

The second branch of Seymours finallycame to the title in 1750, with the 8th Dukeof Somerset (1695-1757), a fifth cousinonce removed of the 7th. The man whocarries the title of Somerset now isdescended from this 8th Duke, andtherefore, through eleven generations,from the Lord Protector's first marriage.

The 10th Duke, Webb Seymour, wasone of those strange hypochondriacs whofrequently occur in ducal households; so

terrified was he of catching smallpox thatletters had to be hurled through a gingerlyopened window. He may have been drivento excess by his wife, Anna Maria Bonnel -jealous, bigoted, and shrewish. Theireldest son, Edward Adolphus, succeededas 11th Duke of Somerset (1775-1855) andbrought to the family its most intellectualmember. A Fellow of the Royal Society, aFellow of the Society of Antiquaries, andan author of learned treatises in scientificsubjects, such as Properties of the Ellipse,the nth Duke was a thinker. Diffident andcautious, trusting to his own reason butnot in awe of it, he was a fine example of ason of the Age of Enlightenment,reflective, just, and temperate. He lived aretired existence in contemplation andcontent ment. His brother Lord WebbJohn Seymour (1777-1819) was also a manof intellect, with a heady reputation in thefields of science and mathematics. Hisclosest friend was John Playfair (1748-1819), professor of mathematics andnatural philosophy at the University ofEdinburgh, and founder of the modernscience of geology. Seymour and Playfairwere quite inseparable; they would turndown an invitation to dine if they had not

yet solved together an abstract problemwhich may have occupied their attentionsfor two or three days. So close were theythat, according to Lord Cockburn, "theyused to be called husband and wife, and incongeniality and affection no union couldbe more complete". Geology, he added,was their favourite pursuit.60

The studious 11th Duke fell in love with Lady SusanHamilton, daughter of the 9th Duke of Hamilton, buther elder sister, Lady Charlotte, had eyes for himherself and, somehow or other, managed to woo himaway to her own side. He was not the kind of man toput up much resistance, and one daughter waspresumably as good as another. His bad-temperedmother objected to the match, probably on thegrounds that Charlotte was much older than the Duke,but also possibly from spite; she was only the daughterof an esquire, whereas the Hamiltons were among thehighest in the land. At all events, the wedding tookplace in 1800, and Lady Charlotte brought to theSeymour family many magnificent Hamilton heirlooms,paintings and furniture. There were Rembrandts,Rubens, Van Dycks, and plenty more, no doubt the

cause of Creevey's acid comment about the newDuchess, that "false devil who robbed her brotherArchie of his birthright",61 brother Archie being LordArchibald Hamilton. The treasures she filched from thedukedom of Hamilton and passed to the dukedom ofSomerset were to be the cause of bitter familyupheavals amongst the Seymours in the nextgeneration, and to provoke a rift the effects of whichare felt today. The Duchess was, incidentally,incredibly mean. The Farington Diary records herdinner table being decked with "nothing but a leg ofmutton at the top and a dish of potatoes at thebottom".

The Duke adopted the name St Maur in the beliefthat his family originated from Normandy, and in denialof his real origin from Seymour, yet paradoxically hecalled both his daughters Jane. Vanity of this kind wasan unusual aberration for him. He married a secondtime after Charlotte's death, and he and his second wifeare buried simply in a grave at Kensal Green cemetery,part of the tombstone broken with neglect.

His son the 12th Duke of Somerset (1804-1885)rose to a more elevated and responsible position in

public life than any duke since the Lord Protector,married one of the most beautiful women of the day,and had five happy children. From every point of view,however, his life was to develop tragically.

In the first place, the beautiful Duchess was not apopular choice. She was one of the three celebratedgrand-daughters of the play wright Richard BrinsleySheridan and accordingly was always known as the"Sheridan Duchess". That she was stunning there is noquestion. Lord Dufferin saw her at the Eglintontournament of 1839 and enthused about her "large deepblue or violet eyes, black hair, black eyebrows andeyelashes, perfect features, and a complexion of liliesand roses".82 Disraeli wrote ecstatically, "anything sosplendid I never gazed upon . . . clusters of the darkesthair, the most brilliant complexion, a contour of faceperfectly ideal".63

This was all very well, but she was not an aristocrat.No amount of beauty could make up for low birth.From the beginning, then, the rest of the family werefiercely opposed to her. Her father-in-law the nth Duke(still alive at the time of the marriage), did all he could todissuade his impulsive son from embarking on such a

union. An eye for beauty was always a most powerfulspur to any Seymour, however, as his previous amourshad shown. The principal seat of the Seymours at thistime was Stover Hall, in Devon, where the Hamiltonheirlooms were housed. That the Sheridan Duchesswas despised by other members of the family for herlow birth is shown by an extraordinary document signedby the 13th Duke, full of vituperative contempt for herand her husband, which used to hang for all to see atMaiden Bradley, and is now kept in a bottom drawerthere. In it, the Duke described her as a "low-borngreedy beggar woman", whose sole object was to gether hands on the property and leave it away from thedirect heirs. The Duchess of Hamilton com mentedacidly that she was not used to "novel splendours". TheSheridan Duchess, who ate guinea-pigs and evenproduced a recipe book to show dozens of ways inwhich guinea-pigs could be pre pared,64 was happywith her husband and children, and viewed withpatronising tolerance the rest of the Seymours.

As First Lord of the Admiralty, the 12th Duke was aman of dis tinction, remembered for having abolishedflogging in the Navy. "There cannot be a more

estimable and agreeable man", wrote Lady Holland,65

and she was right. He inherited his father's quest forknowledge and evolved for himself the happy turn ofphrase which marks a literary man. He publishednothing of note, but some measure of the man may beinferred from a memorandum he wrote, from theAdmiralty, recommending improvements in recreationalfacilities at Greenwich Hospital for Sailors. "This superbPalace", he said, "with its long Galleries and spaciousColonnades, must, from the Nature of the Institution,become intolerably wearisome to Men who are nottotally incapable of taking part in any Occupation orAmuse ment." Leaving aside the nineteenth-centuryverbosity, this dry report shows a man with sensibilitieswhich, in his private life, were to prove his undoing."The Pensioners", he continued, "are necessarily shutout from all the wholesome Interests and Enjoyments ofLife; they have no Employment; their material Wantsare satisfied, and they are relieved from every care ofproviding for their own Comfort and Sub sistence; theypass their Day in a state of listless Idleness and MentalVacuity, until recalled at fixed Intervals to their Mealsor their Beds. It is not surprising that Old Sailors so

circumstanced should resort to the Alehouse or toworse Places . . . Greenwich Hospital has a monasticcharacter, wanting everything that tends to enliven orendear a Home."66

Within a year of writing these sentences, the Duke'sown home life was shattered by the most unforeseeabledisaster.

There were five children of the marriage - Hermione,Ulrica, Guendolen, and two boys, Edward AdolphusFerdinand known as 'Ferdy', who was the heir, andLord Edward. Somerset had success fully petitionedfor a new title, to commemorate the alleged St Maurorigin of the family, and had been granted the title ofEarl St Maur in the Peerage of the United Kingdom.Ferdy was henceforth known as Lord St Maur.

Father and sons were especially close. The Dukeeducated them personally for two hours every morningin his study. The elder boy revealed himself impatient ofbookwork fairly soon; his was an adven turous spirit,eager for a life of action, which in time demanded to beset free, and though his wanderings caused his parentsmuch anxious worry, no attempt was made to smotherhis desires. Young Edward, on the other hand, took to

study with undisguised joy. "How cheer fully eager helooked, with a pen stuck behind his ear and a heap ofbooks in his'arms, piled up and balanced under his chin,as he turned into my father's study, dragging the doorafter him with his foot", wrote Lady Guendolen.67 Thispicture relates to his thirteenth year. The Duke lavisheddevotion upon him.

The brothers kept in touch when St Maur began hisobsessive travels about the world in search of militaryactivity. "His love of soldering is almost a madness",wrote Mary Smith to the Duchess.68 Martial ardourdrove him to all parts of the globe, while his mother satat home wondering where on earth he was, and hisfather sat in the Admiralty trying to conceal hisembarrassment. He was arrested in Naples for bodilyharm against someone he had picked an argu mentwith, sued for damages, and settled out of court.09 Heturned up in the Far East, chasing a war, quiteunperturbed by the perils of a strange climate. "You willmake yourself miserable about dangers which in realitydo not exist", he wrote in a vain attempt to placate theDuchess.70 The Duke let it be known he was "vexed",

and wanted his son to return home. It fell upon thesixteen-year-old Lord Edward to speak sense to hisolder brother. "Gadding about the world", wroteEdward, "is nothing but a kind of intellectual dissipationwhich must end in intellectual sea-sickness andhead ache."71

St Maur, restless and headstrong, would not berestrained. He wanted to cultivate experience, exposehimself to foreign ways and views, fight battles. Glorywas not his aim; it was far more complex than that."Fame is the result of good fortune, not of real merit",he told Edward, "and no man of sense or independenceshould make that the object of his ambition."72 In time,having spent so much time in the east, St Maur wasseduced by the eastern ways of thought, and began towrite urging the contemplative life. Young Edward wasscornful. He told his brother he "wrapped himself incerulean clouds of aspirations, and thinks that 'wishing'is the highest action of the mind".73 So the boys grewsteadily apart, St Maur becoming a friendless searcherafter "the truth", shunning society, mixing with difficulty,a trifle farouche, and frankly admitting that he avoided

English people abroad; Edward more gregarious,congenial, friendly, showing great promise of a brightfuture on sensible lines. He had wit, tenderness, and ahighly gifted mind. At the age of eighteen, he wasattache at the British Embassy in Vienna, and atnineteen in Madrid. He was in America during the CivilWar, on which he wrote an article for Blackwood'sMagazine.

St Maur, meanwhile, found his way to India andvolunteered to fight there in the relief of Lucknow.Headstrong as ever, he had to be restrained fromthrowing his life away. He was mentioned indes patches for "a daring gallantry at a most criticalmoment", corro borated by eyewitnesses who said hewas as brave as a lion. This did little to comfort hisparents, wondering where he would appear next.Under the name of Richard Sarsfield, he then joinedGaribaldi's English volunteers in Italy, causing intensevexation to his father, still First Lord of the Admiralty.The Daily News was the first to spill the beans, with aneulogistic account of St Maur's courage and zeal. StMaur hastily wrote assuring his parents he did not wishto cause embarrassment. "My reason for not telling

yourself or my mother of my intentions in coming herehas been misunderstood. To leave you in completeignorance of my movements was necessary in order torender you entirely irresponsible for my conduct."74

Lord Edward's travels brought him to India (was hepursuing his brother?) and to the climax of this sadfamily rift. On 18th Decem ber 1865 Edward wasattacked by a bear in the Indian jungle. The bear hadbeen wounded by an unexploded shell, and wascrazed with pain. It seized Edward by the knee, thetwo rolled over and over together, until Edwardmanaged to stab it. He was dragged to a junglehospital, where he immediately wrote: "My dearFather, I write to you that you may tell my motherwithout startling her, that I have been bitten by awounded bear. I hope the consequences may not beserious, but things do not look altogether well." Anhour later he underwent an operation. The surgeonssaid that the only chance of saving his life was toamputate above the knee. Just before, weak ening, hedictated a letter to his brother: "I have just decided tolet them amputate this afternoon ... I shall returnperforce to a purely literary life . . . Do marry, is the

advice from your affectionate cripple."The following day, Lord Edward died from the

effects of ampu tation, in a state of delirium. He wastwenty-four. The Duchess received a telegram at theAdmiralty when the Duke had retired to bed. Afterwaking and telling him, she wrote to St Maur. "Oh,Ferdy, don't quit the country or you'll kill me - I amkeeping up for your sake . . . Your Father is terriblycast down and says he will never recover it, and Ibelieve him poor man." The Duke's reaction to shockgrew worse the next morning. The Duchess againwrote to her remaining son: "My only boy, my darlingFerdy, your Father is terribly depressed, all his plans,all his future utterly cast away . . . He seems doubtfulof being able to keep with the Government, I should besorry he had not some political duties to keep his mindoccupied, as I think private life, when he is sodepressed, will depress him still further... he walks upand down."

In fact the Duke never did recover. The tragedysquashed his per sonality, flattened his vigour. Heretired from public life, never to return. The Seymourfamily might well have all joined him in despair had they

known that this was only the beginning of theirtroubles.

Lord St Maur, now the Duke's only son, escaped toTangier, where he could indulge his brooding views onmen and the world without giving offence. He set aboutlearning Russian and Turkish, to add to the French,Spanish and German which he already spoke withfluency. He was more and more withdrawn from thesociety of men. "I think it is a pity", wrote Sir John Hayto the Duchess, "that a clever, vigorous mind like hisshould be lost in this wilderness."76 His health was notgood, however, due probably to the variety of odddiseases to which he had been exposed for years in theFar East, and he was obliged to return to England,where on 30th September 1869, he died suddenly ofheart disease, with his mother beside him, at the age ofthirty-four.

The Duke of Somerset retreated into dumb grief.He had always been a gentle, pliant man, but now hewas quite unable to resist the overwhelming distortionof character that wretchedness brings. For the rest ofhis life he was sullen and embittered. The dukedomwould pass in turn to his two brothers and then to his

nephew; this he could not prevent. But he made surethat precious little else went to them. His will wasregarded as so infamous a document by the rest of thefamily that the memory of it is still fresh. To hisdaughter Hermoine (who married Sir FrederickGraham) he left the London house at 40 Park Lanewith all contents; to his daughter Guendolen (whomarried Sir John Ramsden) he left Bulstrode Park,Bucks, with all contents; to his daughter Ulrica (whowed a Thynne) he left estates in Lincolnshire,Cambridge, and Norfolk, together with all books andlinen to be found at the Duke of Somerset's ancestralhome, Maiden Bradley. Estates in Wiltshire andSomerset he left to his sons-in-law. The clause of thewill which caused most uproar was the bequest of allhousehold linen, furniture, china, glass, householdobjects, prints, ornaments, books and manuscriptsfrom Stover, the family home, on trust for two infantswho were not even Symours. The names were HaroldSt Maur and Ruth St Maur, and they were to receiveStover and its contents, including the Hamiltontreasures, when they grew up. Meanwhile, they wereheld in trust by the sons-in-law Lord Henry Thynne

and Sir John Ramsden. The next Duke of Somersetreceived the title, the shell of property at BerryPomeroy, the estate entailed with the title at MaidenBradley, and its fixtures and fittings, and that was all.No wonder he appended his signature to that petulantdocument which hung on the wall while he was Duke.It reads:

"The will of the 12th Duke of Somerset ismisleading, in some cases untruthful, in others itappears to be an attempt to conceal the truth. He didnot leave the Berry Pomeroy and Maiden Bradleyestates to the 13th Duke, he has scraped andplundered both estates for many years. He sold partof the Maiden Bradley property, and he left variouscharges amounting to £50,000 on the remainder.The house has since been rebuilt. He left it a filthyruin. The law enabled him to put aside his father'swill; he barred the entail and when his sons died heclaimed everything. But the pictures given to hismother for the Seymour family by his grand fatherthe 9th Duke of Hamilton, if legally, could notmorally, could not honourably, belong to him.

"The estates mentioned above have belonged tothe Seymours some four hundred years. Besides theHamilton there are other family pictures, presentsfrom Kings and Princes, to the first wife of the 11thDuke [i.e. Charlotte Hamilton], Where are thesepictures now? Who retains them? Or who has madeaway with them? The Duchess his mother said theywould remain for ever treasures in the Seymourfamily. To gratify the low-born greedy beggarwoman he would marry in opposition to his father,the 12th Duke has seized and made away with theland, the pictures, the miniatures, the plate, the prints,the linen, and the books. He was unable to makeaway with the title and he has left his succes sors hisWill; his Will remains, and must remain, a lastingmonu ment of infamy."

Archibald Seymour, 13th Duke of Somerset The Sheridan Duchess, however "greedy" a beggarwoman, was likewise thwarted by her husband's will,which left everything at Stover to these mysteriousunknowns, Harold and Ruth. She caused a fraudulentphotograph to be taken, showing her and her three

daughters supposedly looking at the Hamilton pictures(the four figures have quite clearly been superimposedon the original photo graph), and saying:

I have worked hard for you, my dears, and I havesucceeded. The Duke will seize, will claimeverything, not a picture, not a print, not a book, noteven a teaspoon will he leave to the Seymour family.

Who were Harold and Ruth St Maur, who togetherwith the sons- in-law, received the greater part of theSomerset inheritance? There is no mention of them inany of the peerage reference books. Yet the entirefamily knew very well who they were. The proverbialskeleton rattled so loudly in the cupboard that hisbones can be heardtinklingtoday.Harold and Ruth were the illegitimate offspring of

Lord St Maur, the 12th Duke's elder son and heir. StMaur was not one to toe the line where women andsuitable marriages were concerned. He scorned suchmatters. But it was well known he had a roving eye."You may rest assured I shall not marry and settlehere", he had written to his sister from India. The truth

was, he had already met and "married" in his own lightsan illiterate girl from Gazely, Suffolk, called RosaElizabeth Swann. His Mohammedan beliefs wouldhave scant regard for the Christian idea of marriage, sothat there was probably no legal Christian ceremony.Rosa's father was a bricklayer, her mother the daughterof another bricklayer, and both had marked a cross fora signature on their marriage certificate. They weregypsies only so far as they moved wherever work wasavailable. As for Rosa, sometimes called Rosina, verylittle is known, except that the Duke of Somerset'sfamily kept her existence very dark. She was a prettygirl, even beautiful, with a continental sultriness quiteunlike an English rose. St Maur dressed her up as aboy and took her to Italy with him when he fought forGaribaldi. Otherwise he kept her in Brighton. She borehim two children, Harold and Ruth, and after his deathwas set up secretly by the Somersets at a house at 74Camberwell New Road, in South London. In the samehouse lived a French tutor, the son of a wine merchant,called Francois Tournier, who was in all probabilityprovided by the Somersets as well. In due courseRosa and Tournier were married, on 14th September

1872.What happened to the infant love children, Harold and

Ruth? They stood ultimately to gain more by theirgrandfather's will than anyone, which made themsuddenly objects of interest. One of their father'ssisters, Ulrica, at first took them in. She, however, wasnow married to a Svengali of a man, Lord HenryThynne, son of the Marquess of Bath, a powerful manwith a strong will and a hypnotic ability to impose it.Little inoffensive Ulrica went in some fear of him.Thynne saw the advantages of keeping control over theheirs. He was thwarted for a while. The Duke andDuchess took the infants out of his care and insisted onlooking after them themselves. The Duke hadcompletely retired into a sombre country existence,brooding in his library, with thought only for thechildren of his beloved son. Thynne bided his time.When the Duke died, the children were still minors,

and by the terms of the will, still under the care ofofficial guardians, one of whom was Henry Thynne. Hepromptly began to sell off the children's heritage.In 1890 there was a sale of paintings and other

objects from the Stover collection, including Rubens,

Lawrences, and Reynolds. These were what the Dukeregarded as his "private" collection, in so far as theywere not for the most part Seymour possessions, butHamilton possessions inherited from his mother. It washis desire to consider them personal property to dowith as he liked which caused all the rumpus withsuccessive dukes and occasioned that bitter accusationfrom his brother that he had "made away" with theheirlooms. Any way, Thynne now decided to sell thegreater part of them, and to sell part of the Stoverestate at the same time. Nobody has ever been able todiscover why. Or where the proceeds of the salewent.*Harold St Maur came of age and began to wonder

about his parents. Could they have been married? Hespent much of his fortune and a good deal of timetrying to track down a marriage certificate. Yearspassed without success, until one day a man turned upwho said, yes, the Earl St Maur and Rosa Swann hadbeen mar ried, and he had moreover been a witness.Henry Thynne was alarmed. It would not serve hisinterest that Harold St Maur should be proved therightful Duke of Somerset. The mysterious gentleman

was hustled away, and later that year opened a shop inTorquay with money he did not have; it was all verysuspect. Word got about that Thynne had seen to it themarriage certificate should be destroyed.Many years later there was another tantalising clue.

As he lay dying in Algeria, Francois Tournier sent wordto Harold that he had something of huge importance totell him before it was too late. Harold did not go.Tournier, as Rosa's husband, no doubt kneweverything there was to know about her. She herselfhad died at the age of twenty-three of tuberculosis in aFrench sanatorium (paid for by the Somersets). Shehad been allowed to wave goodbye to her children, butnot to touch them. She would surely have confided inhim, and may even have explained the mystery of herfirst "marriage".Harold St Maur lived handsomely at Stover while the

then Duke and Duchess of Somerset scrambled aroundat Maiden Bradley for a knife and fork to eat with,sitting in a house stripped bare but for straw on thefloor. Augustus Hare visited them there in 1897. "Youknow it is almost the only remnant the title possessesfrom the once vast Somerset estates. The 12th Duke

left everything he possibly could away, and when thepresent Ehike and Duchess succeeded, they *Relations now think it more likely that Thynne was protecting

Harold's in terests. Harold squandered most of his money.

were pictureless, bookless, almost spoonless. Still theywere determined to make the best of it . . . 'Algie andSusie', as they always speak of each other, have had amost delightful life, enjoying and giving enjoyment. Noone ever looked more ducal than this genial, hearty,handsome Duke: no one brighter or pleasanter than hisDuchess."76

Harold St Maur, who wrote the family history,Annals of the Seymours, tactfully avoiding all mentionof his parents' drama, had three sons. Stover was soldand is now a girls' school. Harold moved to Kenyaand died there. He has one surviving grandson,Edward St Maur, a photo grapher in Chepstow,Gwent, who is the last person able to bear thatsurname; he has three daughters. Were circumstancesslightly different, as his grandfather was never declaredillegitimate by the lords, he could, in theory, apply for a

writ of summons to Parliament as Earl St Maur. Butthe implication would be that he was also the rightfulDuke of Somerset, which is a nest better leftundisturbed. As it is, he has the sword with which LordEdward killed the bear, and the Stover inventory. RuthSt Maur has a son and nephew living in London.

[3]

and in 1891 to Algernon, 14th Duke, both brothers ofthe 12th. He then died in 1894 and was succeeded byhis son, whom Hare called "Algie"; there had been fourDukes of Somerset in nine years.

When Algie, the 15th Duke, died in 1923, yetanother crisis threat ened the family. All that was left ofthe legitimate family were his three nieces, Helen,Lettys, and Lucy, known collectively as "Hell letloose". There was no direct heir, and the mantle wasassumed by a distant relation, Brigadier-General SirEdward Hamilton Sey mour, k.b.e., who could claimdescent from only two of the previous fifteen Dukes ofSomerset, the 8th and of course the 1st; but he was thesenior heir male of the body of the Lord Protector,even if it required considerable genealogical dexterity

to see how. At least that was his firm belief, until theMarquess of Hertford, also a Seymour, challenged hisright to the dukedom and claimed it for himself. It was1750 all over again. The matter had to be referred tothe House of Lords, and it was not until two years laterthat a final decision was made.

Sir Edward Hamilton Seymour was the great-grandson of Colonel Francis Compton Seymour, a sonof the 8th Duke of Somerset. This Francis Compton in1787 made a most unusual marriage, choosing as hisbride the daughter of an East End publican. Her namewasLeonora Perkins, widow of a sailor called JohnHudson, and the mar riage took place at St Michael's,Crooked Lane, Woolwich. Their son, born 2 1stSeptember 1788, leads directly to the new Duke.Hert ford's case was that this boy was a bastard, asLeonora's first mar riage to John Hudson was stillvalid. Why ? Because Hudson was not dead at all.In 1786, a year before the marriage with Seymour,

there was a John Hudson who died in Calcutta andwas buried there. He and Leonora had lived togetherat 9 Paddington Street since 1780. Lord Hertford,

whose agents had resorted to a minute examination oflocal rate-books and other municipal records in orderto get him the dukedom, pointed out that there was aJohn Hudson on the rate book in 1790, and a JohnHudson who died in Middlesex Hospital in 1791.Surely, he said, this is the man; he had deserted,returned to England, found his wife Leonora living withanother man at 9 Paddington Street (our Seymour),and moved out. His name subse quently appears onthe rate-book as residing at 28 Marylebone HighStreet. As for the John Hudson buried in Calcutta, thatmust be another man. Someone called FrancisSeamore [tt'c] does not appear on the rate-book for 9Paddington Street until 1791, the same year that a JohnHudson died in Middlesex Hospital.It was a pretty strong case. Hertford was, of course,

the next legitimate heir if the then Duke of Somerset'sdescent could be suc cessfully impugned, and therewas something attractive about the idea of the two titlesof Somerset and Hertford being joined again as theywere in the sixteenth century. The Duke's reply wasthat all Hert ford's "evidence" rested on conjecture,petty scandal, and supposi tion; he further claimed that

the public baptism of Seymour's children by Leonorawas inconceivable if Hudson were still alive; they livedopenly as man and wife.Before the House of Lords could make their decision,

two more would-be dukes entered the fray. A mancalled Henry Seymour, des cended from Leonora'sthird son by Francis Compton Seymour, said that theirmarriage did not take place until after the first two sonswere born. As there was not a shred of documentaryevidence to support the claim, he withdrew prettyquickly. The other claimant was Harold St Maur, whomay well have been justified, but who could produceno marriage certificate to back him up.The Committee of Privileges met to declare on 25th

March 1925. They said that Lord Hertford asked themto believe that Hudson would accept that his wifeshould live in his house with another man, and move toanother house round the corner, while still meeting thebills. That would require, said their lordships, a degreeof self- sacrifice beyond credence. It is more likely thathe would have turfed them both on to the street. Moreprecisely, they had examined the hospital register andfound that the John Hudson who died there was forty-

four, whereas Leonora's husband would by then havebeen fifty-three had he lived. They therefore found thatHudson was dead, the marriage valid, and Sir EdwardHamilton Seymour rightfully 16th Duke of Somerset."So life at Maiden Bradley resumed. The Duke's son

followed an almost identical military career, won theD.S.O., and the O.B.E., was mentioned in despatches,and bore the sceptre at the coronation of George VI. Itwas the first time any Duke of Somerset had beeninvolved in a public occasion for over half a century.Apart from this one show of publicity, and his sporadicduties at Lord Lieutenant of Wiltshire, he led a quietlife. He was the only duke to have been adept attapestry, knitting and conjuring, in which he was soaccomplished that he was for many years President ofthe Magic Circle.He married Miss Edith Parker, and their first two sons

died in infancy. The late duke was their third son.Percy Hamilton Seymour, 18th Duke of Somerset,born in 1910, was educated at Clare College,Cambridge, then went into the army where he rose tothe rank of major. He married the daughter of anothermajor, and they had three children, two boys and a girl.

So quietly did they live at Maiden Bradley, the onlyconstant heirloom in this troubled descent, that fewpeople seemed to know there was a Duke ofSomerset. He rarely took his seat in the House ofLords, didn't like politicians ("no military man likespoliticians") and visited London only when he had to.Not much is left of the house at Maiden Bradley,following successive demolishings in the nineteenthcentury. What is left, however, makes a comfortablecountry house, with six bedrooms, a kitchen garden,and dogs eddying around wherever you step. It ismuch more easy to manage than a Chatsworth or aWoburn. From the illustrations past there is only amirror belonging to Mary Queen of Scots, which thevandals must have missed when the 12th Duke died,and a dusty ceremonial coach, which was spruced upand used when his daughter married. The villagearound the house used to belong to them, but that wentin 1953. The present Duke still has about 5000 acres,and some of Totnes in Devon, which he has to nibbleat occasionally by selling a house or two whennecessity demands.The dangerous days when Lord Protector Somerset and the

Duke of Norfolk were dire enemies is a dim and distant echo oflittle con sequence now in this peaceful Wiltshire house. TheDuke of Somerset has not even met the Duke of Norfolk. JohnSeymour, 19th Duke of Somerset, was born in 1952 andsucceeded to the dukedom in 1984. He is markedly moreinterested in his ancestry than was his late father, has a housein Fulham and took his seat in the Lords in 1985. He made hismaiden speech in 1987, and welcomes any debate onagriculture or forestry, as he feels passionately about thedisastrous destruction of the rain forests over the globe. Asthis is a subject which will dominate atten tion in the closingyears of the twentieth century, and moreover is arguably moreimportant to the future of mankind in peacetime than thenuclear bomb, it is encouraging to think that the House ofLords, that great bouillabaisse of surprisingly democraticopinion, may produce a spokesman on the subject.The Duke of Somerset is the first of the Seymours for many

generations to take an active interest in the ruined castle ofBerry Pomeroy, near Totnes, the only surviving house of fourbuilt by Lord Protector Somerset after 1547. Described by itshistorian Harry Gordon Slade as "an impossibly large andhideously incon venient house", it is probably no wonderthat it was already neglected and well on the way to ruin by1688. Nonetheless, it remains in the ownership of the Duke ofSomerset, who was considerably pleased to have itrecognised by the Department of the Environment, whichadministers it, as the most important monument in the West ofEngland. Similarly, the Duke was present at the 450thanniversary of the Yeomen of the Guard in Armoury Hall,

representing the blood and spirit of the man who foundedthem and gave them their uniform, the Lord Protector 1stDuke, his direct ancestor. There is every sign that thedukedom of Somerset may once more emerge, if not into thelimelight, at least into acknowledged visibility.

The Duke has a job, representing Sotheby's inWiltshire, as well as a wife, whom he married in 1978,before he came to the title. The Duchess of Somerset,nee Judith-Rose Hull, is the daughter of the deputychairman of Shroders, John Folliott Charles Hull. Theyhave a son and heir, Lord Seymour, born in 1982. (Asthe eldest son of a duke, by the way, this little boy hasprecedence over all earls, viscounts and barons in thecountry).references

1 . Hist. MSS Comm., 12th Rep., App. ix, p. 47.2. Melvyn Tucker, Thomas Howard, p. 39.3. D.N.B.4. Tucker, op. cit., 40.5. Collins Peerage, 1,63; Tucker, op. cit., 47.6. D.N.B.7. Camden Remains, 1605, p. 217, quoted inTucker, op. cit., 46m

8. J. H. Round, Studies in the Peerage, p. 109.9. D.N.B.10. Complete Peerage, IX, 617 (d).11 . Letters and Papers Henry VIII, Vol. XX, Part1, p. 846.12. Complete Peerage, ex: Nott, Works of HenryHoward, App.

xxvii.13. Letters and Papers Henry VIII, Vol. XIV, Part1, p. 160.14. D.N.B.15. D.N.B.16. Collins, I, 70.17. Lit. Rem. of Edward VI, 11,390.18. Elizabeth Jenkins, Elizabeth the Great, p. 141.19. Neville Williams, Thomas Howard Fourth Dukeof Norfolk,

PP-139.145 20.Williams,op. cit.,193.

21. Jenkins, op. cit., 182.22. Ibid., 200.23. Williams, 242.24. Collins, I, 115.25. Complete Peerage, IX, 626 (c).26. Reresby Memoirs (1735), p. 41.27. See D.N.B.28. Wraxall, Historical Memoirs, p. 576.29. Hist. MSS. Comm., Portland MSS, III, 508.30. Hist. MSS. Comm., VII, 429.31. Walpole, Yale edition, XVII, 338.32. Hist. M S. Comm., Carlisle MSS. p. 916.33. Walpole, XXIII, 194.34. Wraxall, Posthumous Memoirs, I, 31.35. W. M. Thackeray, The Four Georges, pp.1 3 1-2.36. History Today, May 1974.37. Wraxall, Posthumous Memoirs, I, 35.Old andNew London, IV, 186.

38. Journal of Elizabeth, Lady Holland, II,9-10.

39. Wraxall, Hist. Mem., 35-6.

40. A Duke of Norfolk Notebook, p. 68.41. ibid., 38.

42. ibid., 124.

43. Frances, Countess of Warwick,Afterthoughts.

44. Williams, op. cit., 48.

45. TheTimes, 27thMay 1929, 31stMay1929.

46. The News Chronicle, 23rd May 1953.

47. Creevy, Papers, II, 162.

48. The News Chronicle, 23rd May 1953.

49. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life, p.35.

50. Sunday Mirror, 6th September 1970.

51. The Observer, 2nd February 1975.

52. D.N.B.

53. Hist. MSS. Comm., 6th Report, p. 368.

54. Collins, I, 184.

55. Macaulay, History of England, II,271.

56. D.N.B.

57. Walpole, XX, 18.

58. ibid., XVIII, 522-3.

59. Cockbura Memorials, in Journal ofLady Elizabeth Holland, II,

22.60. Creevey, Papers, II, 64.

61. Complete Peerage, XII, Part 1, p. 86(g).

62. Moneypenny, Life of Disraeli, I, 231.

63. Leaves from the Notebooks of LadyDorothy Nevill, p. 14.

64. Lady Holland to Her Son, p. 201.

65. House of Lords, Accounts and Papers, 1864,Vol. XXIII.66. Letters and Memoirs of 12th Duke ofSomerset, ed. Lady

Guendolen Ramsden, p. 292.67. Letters of Lord St Maur and Lord Edward StMaur, p. 36.68. Complete Peerage.69. Letters of Lord St Maur etc., 26th August 1857.

70. ibid., 12th October 1862.

71. ibid., 14th August 1857.

72. ibid., 31st October 1862.

73. ibid., 11 th November .1860.

74. ibid., 30th November 1867.

75. Augustus Hare, op. cit., p. 283.

76. The Times, 19th February, 26th March1925.

2. Bright Sons of Sublime Prostitution Duke of Buccleuch; Duke of Grafton; Duke ofRichmond; Duke of St Albans

"Bright sons of sublime prostitution, Youare made of the mire of the street, Whereyour grandmothers walked in pollution Tilla coronet shone at their feet... Graces bygrace of such mothers As brightened thebed of King Charles."

Swinburne, A Word for the Country

King Charles II was one of the most popular monarchsever to sit on the English throne. He was also quiteblatantly and publicly one of the most sensual. It is by

no means certain how many mistresses he had, but aquick count shows at least fifteen. By these variouswomen, the King produced an illegitimate offspring ofsome four teen children, many of whom he elevated tothe peerage. No monarch created more dukedoms thanCharles, and six of them were conferred on his ownbastard sons. Of these, no less than four still exist.

The Duke of Buccleuch is descendedfrom the hapless Duke of Monmouth,Charles's son by Lucy Walter; the Duke ofGrafton from a son the King fathered withBarbara Villiers; the Duke of Richmondwas the son of the French mistress, Louisede Kerouaille; and the Duke of St Albanswas Nell Gwynn's son. Buckingham isreputed to have said that the King was"father of his people", and to have thenadded, sotto voce, "of a good many ofthem". Charles was not alone in hislicentiousness, though he set the tone forthe whole country. Freedom of sexualexperience was the order of the day.Relieved to be rid of the Civil War, andfrankly glad to be alive, the peoplecongratulated themselves in an orgy ofself-indulgence. It was a bold, lusty, ribald,amusing, drink-sodden, smelly, dangerous

time, when people lived life to the hilt,fought duels, took mistresses, andurinated in the gutter. Pepys admitted tohaving never taken a bath in his life, andhe was not exceptional. Sanitation did notmatter in the hedonistic, epicurean Londonof 1660.

It was against this background that the King wasseen to be sporting with one woman after another. Thepeople preferred the royal mistresses to be English andhonest, rather than foreign and haughty, hence theytook Nell Gwynn to their hearts while they treatedLouise de Kerouaille with scorn. But they did notobject to the principle of the King having mistresses,nor did they mind the swift succession of bastardswhom he acknowledged as his own. Only a Puritanlike the diarist John Evelyn professed to be shocked towitness the King sitting and "toying with hisconcubines", but what Evelyn did not notice and whatmade the people tolerate the King's amours was hiskindness towards them, his constancy in affection.1 Ofthe three women watched by Evelyn, one was acurrent mistress, and the other two had been rival

mistresses twenty years before. But the King was loyalto them all. He visited them all regularly, long after theinitial passions had worn off, gave them titles, money,houses, and doted upon his numerous illegitimatechildren. He was no selfish sensualist, but a mancapable of enduring love as well as sudden passion.His reputed last words on his death-bed were "Don'tlet poor Nelly starve", a remark which speaks volumesfor his senti mental nature. The people discerned thesequalities, and forgave him. They also knew that he wasdeeply loyal to his wife, Queen Catherine of Braganza,who could give him no children. He would never allowher place to be usurped nor respect towards her to bewithheld. He was a model husband as well as anardent adulterer; such paradoxes were possible in theseventeenth century, while in a more hypocritical agethey would be unimaginable. Parliament was not happywith the amounts of money lavished on the royalmistresses when the Exchequer was down to its lasthalfpenny, but that the King should have mistressesthere was no question.

During his years of exile Charles gained his firstexperience in the pursuit of love. He was only eighteen

when he met Lucy Walter, the mother of the 1st Dukeof Buccleuch, but she was not by any means the firstwoman to share his bed. Charles was probably afather at the age of sixteen, when he was in Jersey, butno proof is readily available; certainly, he was no virginwhen he met Lucy. Lucy, too, was an experienced girl,a Welsh beauty of about eighteen, whom

Evelyn described as "brown, beautiful, bold, butinsipid".2 The two adolescents spent the summerof 1648 together and were so obviously awashwith passion that many supposed them to havebeen secretly married. Lucy once claimed to beCharles's wife, and he often addressed her assuch. Gossip about Lucy's marriage to Charlescrops up again and again throughout his reign,and persists to this day. If it were true, it wouldhave huge repercussions for the monarchicalsuccession in England, and for Lucy'sdescendant, the present Duke of Buccleuch. Forit would mean that the Duke had a better right tosit on the throne than does Queen Elizabeth II.

On 9th April 1649, in Rotterdam, Lucygave birth to a boy, whom they called

James, after his great-grandfather, James I.Scurrilous gossips said that Lucy was sopromiscuous, she could not have beensure that the boy was fathered by Charles,and that he bore a far closer resemblanceto Robert Sidney, who had also beddedLucy at about the same time; the child hadthe same mole on his upper lip that Sidneyhad, they said. The possibility that theBuccleuch line is founded in part not onlyon an illegitimate birth, but on the wrongillegitimate birth, is alluring, to say theleast. However, it does not stand up toscrutiny. There is no real evidence thatLucy was all that promiscuous, andSidney, who was ugly (not handsome, astraditional versions have it), had no mole.Charles himself was in no doubt. Heacknowledged the boy as his natural son,and held for him a tremendous affection allhis life.3

The little boy spent his infancy with hismother in Paris, then came to London in1656, when mother and son were swiftlyclapped in the Tower by Cromwell. Vainlydid Lucy proclaim that her boy was theson of "King Charles". She was expelledfrom England, and died in Paris at the age

of twenty-eight, probably from syphilis." Itwas then that the boy was placed in thecharge of Lord Crofts, and was henceforthknown as "James Crofts".

When he came to England again in1662, and was presented at Court, hisfather now restored as King Charles II, thethirteen-year- old "James Crofts" caused asensation by his ravishing good looks.Grammont described him as a dazzling,astonishing beauty. All con temporaryaccounts agree. He had his mother'ssensuous seductive ness and his father'ssweetness of nature.6 His popularity wasfurther increased by the sterility of theKing's marriage, beside which hepre sented a radiant contrast. Rumoursagain multiplied that the King wouldultimately recognise him as his lawful son,and heir to the throne of England, as thereseemed little chance of his producing anheir with his queen. The notorious BarbaraVilliers, the King's new mistress (andmother of another of the dukes we shalldeal with in this chapter), is even said tohave slept with the boy. She was certainlya nymphomaniac, and the scandalous taleis not improb able.6 At all events, it was

decided that the boy should be betrothedand married as soon as possible, and awife was found for him in the twelve-year-old heir to the mighty house of Buccleuch,Anna, Coun tess of Buccleuch in her ownright. She was rich, she was noble, she waspretty, and she was sole heiress since thedeath of her father and sister. The Scottsof Buccleuch were an ancient andrespected family of Scottish chieftains wellestablished before this marriage wascon templated. But they had only anearldom; the dukedom of Buccleuch wascreated in celebration of the marriage.

Legally, it was doubtful whether Anna should havesucceeded to the earldom, which had been created in1619 with remainder to heirs male; it ought to havebecome extinct with the death of the 2nd Earl, Anna'sfather, and she would have been simply Lady AnnaScott. But everyone has assumed that the successionmust have been amended by patent or charter at a laterdate to allow remainder to heirs general. No suchpatent has ever been found; there is no record or traceof it.7

However, the little girl in question was accepted

and known, whether rightly or wrongly, as theCountess of Buccleuch. Any son by James Croftswould eventually succeed as Earl of Buccleuch. But theKing was not satisfied. Intoxicated with the success,beauty, the very existence of his son, he determinedthat he should bring Anna new titles, in return for all theestate which she was bringing to the marriage. She hadvast estates in seven counties, plus four domaines andan income of £10,000 a year. Accordingly, the boyassumed the surname "Scott" in anticipation of hisentering that family and con tinuing it (the Scotts ofBuccleuch would otherwise have come to an end withthe death of Anna in 173.1). He was made a Knight ofthe Garter. Then, on 14th February 1663, he wascreated Baron Scott of Tyndale, Earl of Doncaster,and Duke of Monmouth, with precedence over allother dukes not of royal blood. Henceforth, he was tobe fourth man in the realm, after the King, the Duke ofYork, and Prince Rupert. A few weeks later, on 20thApril he was married to the little Countess ofBuccleuch, and the same day they were created Dukeand Duchess of Buccleuch, and Earl and Coun tess ofDalkeith. It is as the Duke of Monmouth that he is

generally known to history. The King wrote to hissister: "This is Jameses marriage day, and I am goeingto sup with them, where we intend to dance and seethem a bed together, but the ceremony shall stop there,for they are both too young to lye all night together."8

The King described his son in themarriage contract as "Filio nostro naturaliet illegitimo" Honours were heaped uponhim in dizzy sequence. It was a happy time.Pepys noted that the King con tinued todote upon his son.

All this over-indulgence and flattery inchildhood bore ill fruit as the young Dukeof Monmouth grew up. In 1666, when hewas seventeen, Pepys wrote that he wasvicious and idle and would never be fit foranything. As his personality developed,he was seen to be a weak character, feeblein moral principle, easily swayed, of littleintelligence, dilatory, volatile, aprocrastinator. With his inability to make adecision and adhere to it, he was to be aneasy tool in the hands of unscrupulouspoliticians. His chief recommendationcon tinued to be grace and personalbeauty. But being the acknowledgedfavourite son of the King (who by this

time had other progeny by successivemistresses) he thought he could commitany act with impunity. He cannot escaperesponsibility for the sorry tale of Sir JohnCoventry, who was disfigured for life onMonmouth's orders. Sir John had made aslighting reference in the House ofCommons to the King's consorting withactresses. Monmouth's response wasvengeful in the extreme; he set a gang ofthugs upon Sir John, who attacked him inthe street, pinning him against the wall,and cut off his nose to the bone. Evenallowing for nose-slitting as a fairlycommon method of revenge in those brutaltimes, this was not the action of a man ofresponsibility. He was only twenty-one atthe time, and his reputation suffered.

The remainder of Monmouth's lifebelongs to the history of Eng land, andthere is no room here to rehearse all thevicissitudes of that sad story. Briefly, theimpressionable and malleable Monmouthfell victim to the Machiavellian plans ofLord Shaftesbury and his faction, whosought to establish the bastard on thethrone and rule England through him.Charles was bitterly disappointed in him,loving him as he did above all his other

children, and the history of theirrelationship shows the conflict betweenpolitical wisdom and filial love which besetthe astute King. Time and again,Monmouth was banished and disgraced,then favoured with the King's goodwillwhen he showed remorse or contrition.Charles knew what a weak man his son hadbecome and was always ready to forgivehis short comings. But his patience wastried too often. Involved in the plot toassassinate his father, the "Rye HousePlot", Monmouth confessed, was forgiven,and the following day retracted hisconfession and asked for his letter back.The King told him to go to hell.Monmouth said he was afraid that hisconfession would implicate others, but hischanges of mind were always prompted bysimple indecision rather than nobleness ofmotive.

Monmouth could be seriouslyentertained as a possible King of Englandonly as long as rumours supporting hislegitimacy persisted. It was such aromantic notion, and Monmouth such ahandsome, dashing man, that the peoplewanted to believe that Charles II hadmarried Lucy Walter. So strong was the

belief that the King had twice to swearsolemnly before the Privy Council that hehad never married any woman but theQueen. Still the rumours were rife, and justas they encouraged Monmouth to believethat he was the right ful heir, so hissupporters increased, and the rumoursmultiplied pro portionately. They gave riseto Monmouth's disloyalty, and were inturn fostered by it. There was even a storythat the marriage contract or proof of itsexistence, lay in a black box in the safekeeping of the Bishop of Durham, whopassed it on to his son-in-law Sir GilbertGerard. But Gerard, summoned before thePrivy Council, denied all knowledge of it,and to this day no proof has beenpro duced that the black box or itscontents ever existed.10 Nevertheless, thelegend will not die; subsequent eventshave given it a more intriguing weight. Inthe first place, the relevant page in themarriage register at the Church where theKing is supposed to have married LucyWalter was found, years later, to havebeen torn out. Secondly, there is a storythat when the 5th Duke of Buccleuch, adirect des cendant of Monmouth, waslooking through old papers at Dalkeith

House in the time of Queen Victoria, hecame across the black box and the marriagecertificate. He summoned his son and heirto his presence, and said, "I am now goingto do something which should have beendone a long time ago. The publication ofthis document in my right hand might havesevere repercussions. It is something noloyal subject should possess." He thenthrew it into the fire.11

Charles II, whatever his faults, was aman of principle and truth. He was deeplyloyal to the institution of monarchy, andwould envisage nothing which mightweaken it or place the lawful right ofsuccession into disrepute. The heir to thethrone was the Duke of York, his brother(later James II), who was politically andpersonally unpopular. He was, however,the heir and Charles would notcom promise with his right to inherit thethrone. Steadfastly, he refused to considerfor a moment the legitimising of his sonthe Duke of Monmouth, to whom, in spiteof everything, he remained devoted asonly a loving father can be. When theKing died, Monmouth was abroad,hatching plots. They both had cause to

regret the gulf that had been erectedbetween them by the easy ambitions of aspoilt child.

With the accession of James II, Monmouth and hisfollowers (the compliant Duke doing most of thefollowing) prepared to invade. On 20th June 1685 hewas proclaimed King of England at Taunton, with thedesignation "King Monmouth" to avoid confusion withthe James already on the throne, who was at the sametime declared a traitor, and his parliament atWestminster a traitorous convention. Meanwhile, therewas naturally a price on Monmouth's head, and he hadbeen stripped of all his English dignities and titles. Hisrebellion was as feeble and irresolute as his character.His troops were routed at a battle on 5th July, and hehimself fled. Disguised as a farmer, with two of hishenchmen, he wandered the countryside for three daysuntil he was discovered by a search party, hiding in aditch. The "cowardly and self-seeking traitor"12 wastaken directly to the Tower.

With characteristic remorse, the Duke declared thatit was never his idea to be proclaimed King. He signeda document which was meant to settle once and for all

the question of his birth, but he may have been coerced,and we know that he was an easy prey to persuasion.He wrote:

"I declare yt ye Title of King was forct upon mee, &yt it was very much contrary to my opinion when Iwas proclaimed. For ye Satis faction of the world, Idoe declare that ye late King told me that hee wasnever married to my Mother."

No doubt with this act of contrition Monmouth savedhis sons from the vengeance of the King and thusprotected the line of the Dukes of Buccleuch fromextinction. But the wording of the declaration is curious;he does not disavow his own belief in his legitimacy, bypointing out that his father had assured him of thecontrary. To a certain extent, the question was leftopen.13

Hours after signing this document, Monmouth wasdead. His end was harrowing. Pressed by the bishopsto repent publicly of his rebellion, he would not employthe word, implying tacitly that it could not legally beconsidered "rebellion", but stated that he was sorry tohave invaded the kingdom, and sorry to have caused

blood shed. In spite of their pestering, he would give nomore. "I will make no speeches," he said, "I come todie ... I shall die like a lamb." No one can deny hiscourage. He refused to be blindfolded or tied, but of hisown will placed his head on the block. He turned andasked to see the axe, then ran his thumb along theedge. "It is not sharp enough," he said, but theexecutioner reassured him, and he placed his headready.

The first stroke of the axe did not sever his head.Monmouth turned and looked at his executioner, butsaid nothing. The second stroke wounded again, but theunfortunate man was still alive. He crossed his legs. Atthe third stroke, the deed was still not done, and theaxeman lost his nerve and threw down the axe. Thecrowd was furious, and would have torn him to pieceshad they been able to reachhim. Finally, Monmouth's head was cut

off with a knife.14

* * *

We must now travel back a few years from 1685,when Mon mouth died, to 1663, when the next dukewho concerns us, Grafton, was born. The ancestress ofthe Grafton line was the infamous seductress BarbaraVilliers, later Countess of Castlemaine, still laterDuchess of Cleveland, "the finest Woman of her age".15

Charles II was already the father of three otherillegitimate children besides James Crofts before heencountered Barbara Villiers, but none of his previousmistresses exerted such influence over him as she wasdestined to. She came from a single-minded ambitiousfamily of courtiers with the determination to see theirambitions realised. They were expert flatterers,endowed with a beauty of body which they did nothesitate to use in the pursuit of their aims. The proof oftheir success lies in the enormous number of prominentand resourceful people who were or are descendedfrom them. Barbara's cousin was George Villiers, 2ndDuke of Buckingham, a favourite with the King; hisfather, the 1st Duke, was lover and master of James I.The Dukes of Marlborough and Sir Winston Churchillare descended from Sir George Villiers (Barbara'sgreat-grandfather) through his daughter Elizabeth

Villiers. The Dukes of Atholl and Hamilton aredescended from another daughter, Susan Villiers. Thereis Villiers blood in the Cecil family (Marquis ofSalisbury), and in Lord John Russell and his grandsonBertrand Russell. Even our present Queen Elizabeth IIis descended from Sir George Villiers through his sonEdward. As for Barbara Villiers herself, she bore theKing six children (at least he acknowledged six of them,though the paternity of some is open to doubt), andmade herself the ancestress of not only the Duke ofGrafton, but of Lord Castlereagh, Lord Melbourne,and Sir Anthony Eden (Lord Avon). No less thanthirteen Prime Ministers trace their ancestry back to theseventeenth-century Villiers family. With such dynamicgenes coursing through her veins, Barbara Villiers fellupon the sweet good-natured King as a praying mantispounces on and gobbles up its victim.10

Even at the tender age of fifteen,Barbara had learnt to use her body toseduce and obtain what she wanted. Withrich auburn hair and blue eyes and aflirtatious manner, she was not easilyresistible; neither the King nor hercountless other lovers, both before and

after, can be blamed for succumbing tosuch obvious charms. In 1659, agedeighteen, she married an obscure personcalled Roger Palmer, who is onlyremembered for having been her husband.He was one of nature's cuckolds. Palmerwas the father of not one of his wife'snumerous offspring.

In the spring of 1660 the King met MrsPalmer and took a fancy to her. It took notime at all for them to become lovers.Samuel Pepys was audibly moved by thesight of her. "I sat before Mrs Palmer, theKing's mistress, and filled my eyes withher, which much pleased me."17 InFebruary of the following year, a daughterwas bora to her; Palmer said he was thefather, everybody else said LordChesterfield was, but in time the Kingclaimed that he was, and Palmer dutifullyclimbed down. Barbara then began to askfor, and get, the benefits of her royalliaison. Her quiet and obedient hus bandwas made Earl of Castlemaine, so that shecould proudly bear a title, and specialarrangements were made in the patent ofcreation so that the title should pass to hermale heirs, not his; this was tanta mount

to an explicit avowal that the affair waswell and truly launched, and that Barbaraintended to bear other royal children.

Two years later, Catherine of Braganzaarrived in England to become Queen. Suchan inconvenience was not allowed tointerrupt the King's uproarious love affairwith Barbara. He stayed with his mistressone whole week, every night and day,notes Pepys,18 and went so far as to spendhis intended bride's first night in Englandwith the infamous Lady Castlemaine.Everybody knew, no attempt was made toconceal either the affair or the insult to theinnocent Catherine, and Barbara washenceforth the object of public scorn andreproach. Barbara was again pregnant, andshe brazenly proposed that she shouldspend her confinement at Hampton Court,while the King and Queen were spendingtheir honeymoon there. The King managedto resist this indelicate suggestion, butresistance to the lady's demands wasbecoming daily more difficult. She had afurious temper, could shout and scream,thump and rant, and burst into tears at will.If there was one thing the King could notabide, it was to see a woman crying; he

would grant almost any favour to ease herdistress, hardly stopping to reflect howsimply a determined woman could (andcan) manufacture a tearful crisis. SoBarbara nearly always got her way.

Her second child and first son was born in June1662. Poor Charles was torn again between his naturalgood manners towards his bride and the powerful spellthis pretty hot-tempered passionate woman cast uponhim. She begged him to make her a Lady of theQueen's Bedchamber, unaware of or unconcerned bythe inappropriateness of such a suggestion. Charlesagreed. When the Queen saw her name upon the listshe struck it off in hurtful anger; she knew enough bynow to realise that Barbara was her rival and thatBarbara was winning. The Queen hardly spoke a wordof English and did not understand the curious way inwhich this libertine Court operated. She had tocapitulate. Charles insisted on keeping his word toBarbara, and the mistress was duly appointed to servethe wife.

Once Catherine had surrendered, she burdenedBarbara with marks of affection and esteem. Her

change of attitude is easy to comprehend when oneremembers that she was deeply in love with herhusband and wanted above all things to please him. Iftreating his loathsome and selfish mistress with respectwould please him, then that is what she would do.Charles, who hated difficulties, squabbles, and tears,was delighted. He wanted everyone to be happytogether without creating problems. At SomersetHouse in September, only a few weeks after the royalwedding, the King attended a party with his wifeQueen Catherine, his mistress Lady Castlemaine, andhis bastard son James Crofts by a previous mistressLucy Walter, all in the same carriage. Charles wascontent.19

It was about this time that the unscrupulous andover-sexed Barbara reputedly made a play for thebeautiful thirteen-year-old Mr Crofts, who was a kindof unofficial stepson to her. Pepys observed that shewas "always" hanging on him. Sensing danger, the Kingmarried him off and created him Duke of Monmouthand Duke of Buccleuch only a few months later, inorder, it was said, to rescue him from Barbara'sattentions.20 The boy had been flattered, and was too

much in her company.Barbara's reputation suffered more when it was

noticed that in addition to her other sins, she was acruel and heartless mother. She treated the new babywith such contemptuous irritation that the poor boywas permanently damaged, and grew up mentallyderanged.21

Her temper grew more and more fierce. She wasfrequently heard shouting at the King. She called him afool in public. Pepys was present on one occasionamong many. He wrote in his diary:

"how imperious this woman is, and hectors the Kingto whatever she will. It seems she is with child, andthe Kings says he did not get it; with that she made aslighting 'puh' with her mouth, and went out of thehouse."22

Since she was openly having an affair with HenryJermyn, and sleeping with him more often thanwith the King, the latter's suspicions can hardly besaid to be unjustified. Her second son, Henry,was born on 20th September 1663; this is the

boy later to be created Duke of Grafton, whosedescendant is the nth and present Duke. TheKing refused to acknowledge the infant as hisown. She badgered, screamed, fought withextreme violence, until in the end he relented."God damn me, but you shall own it!" sheshouted. But the circumstances of the infantDuke's birth remain questionable. Again in 1667,another quarrel erupted over the birth of her thirdson. She threatened that unless the Kingacknowledged the new child, she would take it toWhitehall and dash out its brains.23 Pepys says,"She did threaten to bring all his bastards to hiscloset-door, and hath nearly hectored him out ofhis wits."24

Meanwhile, Lord Castlemaine (Mr Palmer that was)found him self paterfamilias of an ever-increasing broodwith whose birth he had nothing whatever to do. TheFrench Ambassador wrote of the Earl's worried look atfinding two unexpected additions to his family.

When Barbara was converted to RomanCatholicism, Stillingfleet remarked, "If the Church of

Rome has got no more by her than the Church ofEngland has lost, the matter will not be much."25 Thediarist John Evelyn was yet more laconic. She was "thecurse of our nation".26

At this distance, it is difficult to see what herattraction was, unless it be the wild, impassioned,impulsive and unpredictable nature which some menfind compelling. There was also, of course, her sexualathleticism; Charles is reported to have said that sheknew more positions than Aretino.27 Charles wasbeginning to tire of her; he was weary of the constantscenes and quarrels, which were not at all to his taste.He was loyal to the extent that he would still see herregularly, dine with her, receive her at Court, but herinfluence and magic faded. It was easier now to give into her material demands, causing only financialproblems, which were nothing compared to theemotional problems her earlier antics created. Besides,they kept her quiet. She was given a residence inLondon, furnished at vast expense to suit her lavishtaste; she was given an annual grant of £4700 from thePost Office, a lump sum in ready cash of £30,000,

jewels and priceless plate from the royal collection, andthe beautiful palace of Nonesuch near Epsom. Thispalace, standing in its own handsome park, was built byHenry VIII and was a favourite house of his daughter,Elizabeth I. Barbara received it as a gift, andcharacteristic ally, she plundered it, sold its contents,and gambled away the proceeds. She allowed thehouse to fall into such decay that it completelydisappeared, and its foundations were only recentlydiscovered by archaeologists. Although Barbarareceived thousands and thousands of pounds for hercharms, she never kept a penny. She was seen one daywearing £40,000 worth of jewellery; on another, shelost nearly £20,000 at gambling. She insisted that herstation required a coach drawn by eight horses, whichLondoners rushed in crowds to see pass in the street,and she even took money from the royal purse tosupport her successive lovers.

In 1670 she was created Duchess of Cleveland. Thenormally sedate Complete Peerage is aroused to apassionate footnote by this title which was, it says,"conferred as actual wages of her pros titution and onewhich had stunk in the nostrils of the nation during the

forty years she enjoyed it; one, too, which had not beenredeemed from the slur thus attached to it by any meritof her successors, of whom the one was a fool and theother a nonentity".28

By the time Barbara was made Duchess, the Kinghad already diverted his favours to other mistresses,especially the actresses Moll Davis and Nell Gwynn.Money and honours were lavished on Barbara tocompensate for her demotion from the royal bed. Hersubsequent history is no less rapacious. She had aboutten other lovers, including the playwright Wycherley,John Churchill (later Duke of Marl borough), RalphMontagu (later Duke of Montagu), and a fashion ablerope-dancer called Jacob Hall. The King on his death-bed asked his brother to be kind to her. In old age shewas trapped into a second marriage for which only lustcan have been the motive. She chose her malecounterpart, the notorious rake "Beau" Feilding, who"had only to give the lady a sight of his handsomeperson he designed to lay at her feet".29 Alas, Feildinghad married another lady, Mary Wadsworth, only twoweeks before the marriage with Barbara, and hadditched her when he discovered she had no for tune.

He was tried for bigamy in 1706, when the Old Baileyheard such evidence of lechery as it seldom suspects.Letters written by the Duchess are now in the BritishMuseum, and are said to be among the most indecentwhich that mausoleum of dusty pornographypos sesses.80 She moved to a house in Chiswick Mall(now called Walpole House) where she died of dropsyin 1709.

Her second son, Henry, is the one who concerns us.Just as Mon mouth, the King's son by Lucy Walter,had been married off at a tender age to the rich heiressof the Buccleuchs, so this infant was wedded, at theage of nine, to Isabella, five-year-old daughter andheiress of the Earl of Arlington, and owner of EustonHall, a splendid estate near Thetford in Norfolk.Through her, the boy would have estate and income;for her part, she would gain title and status: it wasprecisely the same arrangement for the same reasonsthat the Monmouth/Buccleuch marriage took place.According to the marri age laws prevailing, themarriage was void if either party be under the age ofseven years, but perfectly valid if they be aged betweenseven years and fourteen years, with this condition: at

fourteen in the boy's case, or at twelve in the girl's,either of them might withdraw their consent and themarriage was automatically voided. But if they bothagreed to continue, the original ceremony was stillvalid.31 It is as well to bear these laws in mind when weread of so many infant weddings; it explains why agood number of children elect to re marry when theyare older and understand what they are doing. InRestoration England, fourteen for a boy and twelve fora girl was quite old enough in a matter such as this.

So, the son of Barbara Villiers, Duchess ofCleveland, was mar ried in August 1672; two weekslater he was created Earl of Euston, the title taken fromthe country seat of his wife's family, where hisdescendants still live and still bear this title. In 1675 hewas created Duke of Grafton, at the age of twelve. In1679 the children went through a second marriageceremony. He was now sixteen, and she was twelve,the minimum legal age to marry with consent.

The subsequent career of the 1st Duke of Graftonwas short, but laudable. Evelyn wrote that he was"exceedingly handsome, by far surpassing any of theKing's other natural issue", but he had reser vations

about his manners, and thought he had been "rudelybred". "Were he polished ... he would be a tolerableperson."32 He was the opposite of a dandy. He lovedthe sea, and rose to be vice-admiral of England. Hewas also, not surprisingly considering his parentage,short-tempered and impulsive. He fought a duel withthe brother of the Earl of Shrewsbury, for which he waspronounced guilty of man slaughter. But when he diedat the siege of Cork, aged only twenty- seven, he wasmuch lamented as a fine soldier and a rugged, honestman.The Duke of Grafton was only five years old (andnot yet ennobled) when the King began to taste theearthy charms of his most famous mistress, NellGwynn. She is one of the most enduring popularheroines of England, her irrepressible spirit, impudence,good humour, and Cockney frankness as alive infolklore now as they were in 1668. She is also theancestress of the Duke of St Albans.

Nell was born probably in London (some sayHereford); she was a Cockney, working-classcharacter, bold, uninhibited, friendly, and amusing. Shewas completely illiterate; the most she could bringherself to write was E.G. (for "Eleanor Gwynn") at the

foot of a letter written for her by someone else. It isperfectly true that her career began at the TheatreRoyal, Drury Lane, selling oranges. In the popular mindthis is assigned to tradition but it is fact.

By virtue of an affair with one of the actors, sheprogressed from the pit to the stage, where sheeventually became one of the most celebrated actressesof her day. Our knowledge of her career we owelargely to Samuel Pepys, who found her delightful andcalled her "pretty witty Nell". She was apparently anexcellent comedienne, but embarrassingly bad whenshe tried heavy drama. It was at this point in her life,sometime in 1668, that the King "asked for" her; inother words, he knew her as an actress, not as anorange-girl. More accurately still, he knew her as awhore; all the theatres were as Burnet says, "nests ofprostitution". Nell never made any attempt to disguisethis bald truth, and the people loved her for it. She wasrough, candid, honest. She could so easily have had herhead turned by the royal favour. She could haveassumed airs and graces, tried to make herself a "lady"with fine clothes. She could have softened her Cockneyaccent, pruned her rough speech of its worst swear-

words, tried to compete with the ladies at Court.Charles would have grown bored. He could have anynumber of grand ladies; what he wanted was a change.And Nell's vitality, wit, honesty, her lack of pretencewere intoxicating to him. Nell forever remained therough diamond that she was, teasing the King, amusinghim, shocking the other ladies with their noses in the air,irresistibly impertinent and iconoclastic. Evelyn spokefor the Court when he called her "an impudentcomedian". It was a happy love affair, which gave theKing years of pleasure and relaxed enjoyment. It couldnot have been more pointedly contrasted with thetempestuous affair with Barbara. It should never beforgotten that Charles II had spent years in exile, awayfrom the glitter of the Court and the forced chatter ofaristocracy. He already knew the people, andrecognised in Nell the qualities which he had previouslyvalued. He was the most approach able King Englandhas ever had. He liked to walk in the park for hoursevery day, feeding the ducks, talking with anyone whowas about, strolling and telling stories. There wasnothing pompous or remote about him. Nellyresponded to that cheeky side of his nature which was

amused to see the haughty and pretentious discomfited.He was at heart always a rascal, and Nell became hisplaymate.

Nell cost much less than Barbara, too. Of course,she had an allowance, it was part of the bargain thatshe should be paid, and Charles was not the kind ofman to refuse. But she did not pester for vast sumsmerely to satisfy her vanity. She never forgot that shewas a woman of the people, who had learnt in a harshschool the lessons of survival, and was used to beingsatisfied with life. The King gave her a residence andan income, and she did not ask for more.

Above all, her uninhibited teasing of the King was tothe merry monarch a constant joy. She would giveboisterous parties at her house at 79 Pall Mall, wherethe King and the Duke of York mixed with friendsfrom the theatre and prostitutes from Drury Lane. Theywould all get drunk, and singing would go on well intothe night. Once, Nell asked a singer called Bowmanand his crew to entertain the royal guests. When theyhad finished, the King said how much he had enjoyedit. "Then, Sir," said Nell, "to show that you do notspeak like a courtier, I hope you will make the

performers a handsome present." The King rummagedin his pocket but had no money with him. The Duke ofYork did not have enough either. Nell turned to herfriends and, feigning surprise, she said, "Odd's fish,what company am I got into."35

She was wonderfully indiscreet, and total' -"ithoutrespect for her successor Louise de Kerouaille, whodid assume the dignities she thought were due to aroyal mistress. When once she was mobbed atOxford, the crowd believing that her carriagecontained Louise (whom they loathed and distrusted),Nell put her head out and said, "Pray, good people, becivil; I am the Protestant whore."

For the first two years of her royal liaison, Nelly hadno serious rival. In 1670 she bore the King a son,Charles, who would one day found the line of thedukes of St Albans. By a dramatic coincidence, as weshall see, on the very night that Nelly was in labour, theKing was on his way to Dover to meet his belovedsister Henrietta ("Minette") who was sailing fromFrance. One of her entourage was a pretty baby-faced beauty called Louise de Kerouaille. Charles wascaptivated by his new mistress as his son by Nelly was

being born.The rivalry between the pretentious

French intruder and the down-to-earthCockney actress entertained London foryears. Nelly was a merciless tease, andwould not allow the newcomer to getaway with any folies de grandeur. Louisesimply could not understand why theKing should want to spend any time atall with such a low person as Nell; shestifled with rage to find herselfcompeting with a common whore, a"noisy ill-mannered creature from theLondon slums",34 whom she wouldrather not be obliged to look at. She washaughty, disdainful. The London peoplewere naturally whole heartedly on Nelly'sside. They thought Louise was a Frenchspy (and in that they were not farwrong); they distrusted her; they couldnot pronounce her name, so she becameknown as "Mrs Carwell", which furtherinfuriated her.

When the Chevalier de Rohan was executed inFrance, Louise appeared at Court in deepest black, tosignify that she was in mourning for a dear and close

relation. The next day, Nelly turned up in black also.Louise asked her why, and Nell said she was inmourning for the Cham of Tartary, who was just aboutas closely related to her as was the Chevalier deRohan to Louise. Louise swept off in a sulk, while Nelland the King laughed.35 Madame de Sevigne reporteda statement of Nell's in one of her famous letters. "ThisDuchess," said Nell (Louise was by now Duchess ofPortsmouth), "acts the fine lady; she says she is relatedto everyone in France; as soon as any great noblemandies she goes into deep mourning. Right, if she is ofsuch nobility, why is she a whore? She ought to die ofshame. As for me, it's my trade, I don't set myself upas anything better."38

In the same letter, Madame de Sevigne gives us thisvivid portrait of Louise's mortifications at the hands ofNell. "But she did not foresee that a young actress wasto cross her path, and to bewitch the King. She ispowerless to detach him from this actress. He divideshis money, his time, and his health between the pair.The actress is as proud as the Duchess of Portsmouth,whom she jeers at, mimics, and makes fun of. Shebraves her to her face, and often takes the King away

from her, and boasts that she is the better-loved of thetwo. She is young, wild, bold, lewd, and ready-witted.She sings and dances and frankly makes love herbusiness." 37

By 1673, the new French mistress had beencreated Duchess of Portsmouth. The King's secondson by Barbara Villiers had been given the titles Dukeof Grafton and Earl of Eustonv and was safely married,though still a child, to a rich heiress. Barbara herselfhad become Duchess of Cleveland, and another of hersons had been created Duke of Southampton.Meanwhile, the faithful and amusing

Nell was still plain Nell Gwynn, and her sons(there were now two) still nameless. Theyremained so for another three years.

There are two stories which tell howNell's eldest son eventually received histitle; one is traditional, but unverifiable,the other more likely. According to thefirst, Nell grew so impatient with the Kingthat she grabbed hold of his six-year-oldson, held him out of the window, andthreatened to drop him if the King wouldnot give him a name. "Stop, Nelly,"shouted the King. "God save the Earl of

Burford." The second story originateswith the historian Granger and is morecredible. Nelly said to her son, "Comehere, you little bastard, and say hello toyour father." The King remonstrated withher: "Don't call him that, Nelly," to whichshe replied, "Your Majesty has given meno other name to call him by."38 So thechild was created Earl of Burford andBaron Heddington on 27th December 1676.In 1683, when he was not yet thirteen, hewas created Duke of St Albans, and thefollowing year, Hereditary Grand Falconerof England. This office, which entailslooking after the King's hawks, stillbelongs by right to the Duke of St Albans.

Nell herself received no title. There wasa rumour that she was to be createdCountess of Greenwich in 1685, but theKing died before he could put hisintention into effect. It is just as well thathe did not. A title would not have suitedher - perhaps she would not haveaccepted it - and would have offended thearistocracy. She may have made the Kinghappy, but she was still an illiterate girlfrom the slums, and it would not havebeen considered fitting that she should be

elevated to the peerage.

A far more appropriate memorial to heris the erection of Chelsea Royal Hospital,which tradition asserts was Nell's idea.39

There is no proof that she had anything todo with it, but the tradition is too solid tocollapse beneath the scepticism ofhistorians. She was known to be kindly,warm-hearted, charitable and benevolent.The most one can say is that it would havebeen entirely characteristic of her to beinvolved in such a scheme. It accords withthe temper and tone of her will, to whichthere was a codicil asking her son to "layout twenty pounds yearly for the releasingof poor debtors out of prison everyChristmas day" (a request which, like theothers, he honoured).40 Her own fatherhad died in a debtors' gaol in Oxford.

Another instance of Nell's generosityand kindness is witnessed by a letter, oneof the few we have, and written in anotherhand of course, which bears the date 14thApril 1684.41 It is addressed to MrsJennings (probably the mother of Francesand Sarah Jennings, who later became

Duchesses of Tyrconnel andMarlborough),42 and one sentence says,"Good madam, speak to Mr Beaver tocome down too, that I may bespeak a ringfor the Duke of Grafton, before he goesinto France." The Duke of Grafton wasnow twenty-one years old, but theimportant point is that he was the son ofCharles II by a former mistress, BarbaraVilliers, and that Nell Gwynn wanted togive him a going-away present.

The King had granted Nell a house calledBestwood Park, which stayed in the family of StAlbans until 1940. When she died in 1687 she left herestate to "my dear natural son, His Grace the Duke ofSt Albans", with specific codicils benefiting herservants, her nurses, and has already been noted, thepoor.

The most telling indication of the goodness andcharacter of Nell Gwynn is that no writer seems tohave been able to bring himself to refer to her asanything but "Nell" or "Nelly". She is not called Miss orMrs Gwynn or Eleanor Gwynn; to do so would be todistort her personality. It is nearly 300 years since she

died, but the warmth and affection which this disarmingjovial prostitute inspired is strong yet.

Besides the Duke of St Albans, some hundreds ofpeople alive now can trace their ancestry back to Nell,through the 1st Duke. In 11901 there were 311descendants, and there must now be considerablymore. Sixty-seven of them were titled 'Honourable';they included Beauclerks, Loders, Cavendishes,Capells, the Earl of Essex, the Countess of Warwick,the Duchess of Sutherland, the Countess ofWestmorland, and so on. One woman, Ivy Gordon-Lennox, who in 1915 became the Duchess ofPortland, was descended three times from Charles II,once through Nell Gwynn, once through BarbaraVilliers, and once through Louise de Kerouaille." Thepresent Duke of Buccleuch also traces his ancestry toNell through the 10th Duke of St Albans.As for herson, the 1st Duke, who had counted among his tutorsThomas Otway, the author of Venice Preserved andThe Soldier's Fortune, he developed into a fine andpopular young man and a gallant soldier. He was afavourite with the Dowager Queen Catherine,Charles's widow, who gave him an allowance of

£2000 a year. When he was still a boy he wasbetrothed to Lady Diana Vere, the daughter and soleheiress of the 20th and last Earl of Oxford. She wasthe last of the Veres, a family founded in England byAubrey de Vere, who had come over with theConqueror in 1066 and been ennobled as Earl ofOxford. He lived in a manor house marked by the areaof London now called "Earl's Court", where he grewvines. His family is also recalled in De Vere Gardens,Kensington, and naturally in the surname of hisdescendant the Duke of St Albans, which is de VereBeauclerk.

King Charles clearly made a habit of choosingwealthy females from grand families where there wasno male heir to carry on the name, rescued that namefrom oblivion, and took in return the estate for one ofhis bastard sons. He went seriously wrong in St Albans'case. The de Veres were penniless, their fortunesquandered; Diana brought practically nothing with herinto the marriage. Perhaps it was Nell's easy-goingnature which prevented her insisting that her boy shouldbe provided with a rich bride. Anyway, the St Albans'descendants have always been relatively poor in

consequence. The marriage took place in 1694.When the Duke was thirty-four years old he was,

according to Macky, "very like King Charles" (therewas, at least, no doubt about his paternity), and that hehad a "black complexion", by which he meant swarthy.He was, in addition, "well-bred, doth not love business,is well affected to the constitution of his country".14

After that, we lose sight of him. Despite his having beena notable soldier, his career was not very public, or fullof achievement. He seems to have preferred a quiet lifewith his wife Diana, who was a celebratedbeauty and bore him eight sons. He died in 1726,

aged fifty-six.

* * *

While Nelly was giving birth to the future Duke of StAlbans at her house in Lincoln's Inn Fields, the King'ssister, Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, was sailingtowards Dover to persuade her adoring brother to linkEngland with France in an alliance, the result of whichwas the Treaty of Dover of 22nd May 1670. The Kingwent out on the waters to meet her. Among her suite of

237 persons was a pretty little Maid of Honour calledLouise Renee de Penencoet de Kerouaille. The Kingnoticed her, and a different kind of alliance suggesteditself to his heart. Louise was from a poor but nobleBreton family. She was small, dark, refined, andthoroughly desirable. She deeply resented her place asMaid of Honour to an Englishwoman, believing that shewas destined to take her rank among the most noble inFrance and England. More than anything, she wantedwealth - vast quantities of it. Politicians noticed theattraction which the King manifested, and determinedthat it should be made serviceable; meanwhile, Louisereturned to France. Weeks later, Henrietta was dead,suddenly and unexpectedly. The King was utterlyheartbroken. The French King, Louis XIV, at oncedespatched Louise back to England, for consolationperhaps, and Charles sent a royal yacht to meet her atCalais. Within a very short time she was established atCourt, and her influence assured. The French intendedto use her as a lever to prise compliance from Charlesand make English policy subservient to French designs.The French had noticed (who had not?) that KingCharles II would subordinate almost any consideration

to the satisfaction of his pleasure, and had wiselydetermined that they could put this dalliance to use.Louise was sent to England as a spy, a courtesan whowould conduct international negotiations between thesheets. It took her a little time to adapt to the role, butwith encouragement from Louis XIV and the FrenchAmbassador, she not only succeeded, but surpassedexpectations.

Plans for the consummation of the King's desire werewell laid by the French Ambassador. The Ambassadorwould take Louise to stay at Euston Hall, the home ofLady Arlington, and future seat of the Dukes ofGrafton. The King would no doubt avail himself of theopportunity to visit. He did, and there he spent his firstnight with his charming new mistress. Evelyn was alsoat Euston Hall, and professed to be shocked by thegoings-on, which lasted a full fortnight. He can hardlybring himself to set down on paper that "she was for themost part in her undress all day, and that there wasfondness and toying with that young wanton".45 All theguests in the house knew that Louise had pleasured theKing, for it was joyfully announced to the gathering thefollowing morning. Nine months later, on 29th July

1672, Louise gave birth to a son, who was to be theancestor of the line of Dukes of Richmond. It is adelicious irony in this profligate age that the 1st Duke ofRichmond, illegitimate son of Charles II, was conceivedat Euston Hall, home of the 1st Duke of Grafton,another illegitimate son of Charles II by a differentmistress. Disarmingly gentle, but sly and intriguing,Louise became the most successful of all the King'smistresses. She obtained honours for herself far morequickly than any of her predecessors. In 1673 she wascreated Duchess of Portsmouth, for which dignity shehad to become a naturalised Englishwoman, and in1675 her son was created Duke of Richmond, when hewas only three years old - the youngest person ever tobe so honoured in the history of the country. "Aloneamong Charles's mistresses, she had a conception of lahaute politique : she alone in that ignoble Court couldcommand the respect and co operation of statesmenand ambassadors. She met the vulgar furies of theDuchess of Cleveland and the banter of Nell Gwynnwith quiet disdain; she held her own with a certaindignity against the anger of the Commons, the hatred ofthe people, the attacks of politicians, and the

waywardness of Charles, and for many years she wasvirtually Queen of England."46

The way in which she secured the title for her son isindicative of her determined ambition. The Duchess ofCleveland wanted her son to be created Duke ofGrafton; Louise wanted hers to be Duke of Richmond.But Barbara made a fuss about precedence; she saidthat her son should have his title before the son of aFrench Maid of Honour, and should take his place atthe head of the King's bastards. The King, who hatedarguments, and felt besieged by the two women,determined that the patents of creation should be datedthe same day, so that Grafton and Richmond would beequal. Louise was far too clever for that. With theconnivance of Danby (later Duke of Leeds) with whomshe is supposed to have had an affair, Louise presentedher patents to the Lord Treasurer at midnight, just as hewas stepping into his coach to go to Bath, and hadthem signed. When Barbara turned up with her lawyersin the morning she was told that the Lord Treasurerwas out of town. Louise had achieved her aim ofprecedence, and her son was already the Duke ofRichmond.47

[4]

Nell Gwynn commented, "Even Barbara's brats werenot made dukes until they were twelve or thirteen, butthis French spy's son is ennobled when little more thanan infant in arms."48

Louise was profoundly unpopular with thearistocracy and with the people. The aristocracy couldnot stomach a foreigner being given the highest honourin the English peerage merely because she was good inbed. The Marchioness of Worcester slighted her atTunbridge Wells, when Louise demanded that her rankentitled her to preced ence, with the remark that theEnglish did not respect a duchy gained throughprostitution. (This is not exactly true; the English respecta duchy gained by any means.) Aristocracy and peopleunited to deplore her airs; she was a mistress in thegrand manner, and she succeeded in irritating theprofound English distrust of pretension and pomposity.

Her extravagance was gargantuan. She depleted theprivy purse of more money even than Barbara Villiers.In December 1674 an annuity of £10,000 was settledon her, in addition to which she received ad hoc gifts

from the King of staggering liberality. Her incomevaried, but in 1681 it amounted to £136,668.49

Barbara had been expensive in a vulgar way, with hercoach-and-eight, but Louise had a refinement of tastewhich could be satisfied only by the most expensiveand recherche items from Paris. She never lost sight ofher aim to be rich, and to hold her head up high withthe French aristocracy, in whose company she hadbeen of low rank. Evelyn relates, "I was casually shownthe Duchess of Portsmouth's splendid apartment atWhitehall. It is luxuriously furnished, and has ten timesthe richness and glory of the Queen's - such massypieces of plate; whole tables and stands of incrediblevalue."50 Evelyn also said that the whole apartment wastwo or three times pulled down and rebuilt to satisfy herprodigal tastes. She was ostentatious, throwing moneyfrom her window in the hope that gossip might reachFrance and teach her compatriots how rich she hadbecome to be able to indulge such extravagance.51 TheHouse of Commons was not at all happy. While he waspaying out vast sums to gratify the vanity of Louise, hewas also supporting Barbara, Nell, Moll Davis, and

others, including indirectly lovers of Barbara. Louiseexceeded all reason. She would receive visitors whilean unnecessary number of maids were combing out herbeautiful hair in a room hung with Gobelin tapestries.52

When her sister returned to France, having marriedthe Earl of Pembroke, Louise chartered (and the Kingpaid for) several ships to transport her across theChannel. There were chests filled with silver and silk; ahundred pounds in weight of pins and needles; fivepounds in weight of iris-root scent; seventeen dozengloves, pearls, ear-rings, diamonds, and money.53

On the face of it, the lady had achieved much in avery short time. She was an English duchess, countessand baroness, her infant son was an English duke, hersister was married to an English earl. She had moneyand influence. But she was not satisfied. In her heartshe valued these English honours as trifles compared tothe real honour of a French title. France was the mostcivilised land in the world, her king the most powerful,her Court and literature the most brilliant. Next to allthis, the English were barbarians. She pestered Charlesto persuade Louis XIV to give her a French duchy. Atfirst the French King was reluctant. He gave Louise the

duchy of Aubigny (which Charles's ancestors, theStuarts, had previously held since 1422), on the curiouscondition that the estate should revert on her death toany one of Charles's natural sons whom he shouldappoint to succeed her. It was assumed that Charleswould choose as successor her own son, Richmond,and that he and his descendants could then enjoy theestate without Louis XIV having to give him a separateFrench title, which was not desirable. The FrenchCourt, after all, was more select. So, Louise foundherself possessor of a ducal estate in France, butwithout the title of duchesse. This was not what shewanted at all.She pestered and pestered for years, until Louis XIVrelented, and made her Duchesse d'Aubigny in January1684." The next year, her son the Duke of Richmondwas naturalised a Frenchman, so that he could succeedher to the estate and title. To this day, the Duke ofRichmond is also Due d'Aubigny in France, one of onlytwo British Dukes to hold a French dukedom as well.

Her son, the 1st Duke of Richmond,suffered from the same lavish distributionof honours as had destroyed the characterof his half-brother the Duke of Monmouth.

Most probably it was the snobbishness ofLouise which insisted that her son shouldbe created Duke of Richmond in thepeerage of England at the age of three,Duke of Lennox in the peerage of Scotlandfour weeks later, that he should be granteda perpetual charge on every ton of coalexported from the Tyne, when he was onlyfour years old, and that he should beinstalled as a Knight of the Garter at theage of nine. She further secured for him aposition as High Steward of York, thesecond city of the realm, when he waseleven, and the appointment as Master ofthe Horse when he was not yet ten. Therewas even talk of his being made heir to thethrone.58 In short, he had little chance ofgrowing into a responsible adult.

As an infant, he promised well. Evelynhas described the scene on Easter Day1684, when the King went to chapel inWhitehall with three of his natural sons,the nineteen-year-old Duke ofNorthumber land, Barbara's son,* theDuke of St Albans, Nell's son, nearlyfourteen, and the little Duke of Richmond,aged twelve, whom Evelyn said was "a

very pretty boy".56

There is also the endearing story whichrelates to his investiture as a Knight of theGarter when he was nine. He was requiredto wear the blue ribbon round his neck,with the medallion of St George hanging infront. But, whether his mother had advisedhim differently or whether the child wasjust confused and mistaken, he wore theribbon across the left shoulder. The Kingwas so delighted he ordered that thisshould be henceforth the custom, which itstill is.57

Richmond's star began to sink with thedeath of Charles II in 1685. The dying Kinghad asked his brother, now James II, tolook after the boy, but James hated theDuchess of Portsmouth, and was unlikelyto arrange matters to suit her pleasure.One of his first actions was to depriveRichmond of his position as Master of theHorse, on the grounds that he was tooyoung to discharge his duties properly;Louise was furious."8 Richmond was, likehis mother, given to petulance.

* No relation to the present line of dukes of Northumberland. From his father, the 1st Duke inherited good looks,

easy manners, grace and charm. From his mother hegained the fatal flaw of self- indulgence, whicheventually ruined him. As a young man he was popular,but then he descended to such an abysmal level ofdrunken ness and debauchery that he forfeited all thegood opinions he had enjoyed. Saint-Simon wrote,with his usual clarity, that Richmond had been the mostbeautiful creature one could hope to cast eyes upon,and had become the most hideous. Swift was less harshwhen he called him, simply, a "shallow Coxcomb"

One recognises his mother also in his unrelentingambition. He enjoyed hunting, and fighting, wasaccounted a good soldier, but changed his allegiancewhenever prompted by self-advancement. He foughtfor the French and for the English; he was a confirmedProtestant, and a convinced Catholic, and a Protestantagain. In 1692 he married Anne, Lady Bellasis, bywhom he had three children. Although he had by right

of his titles lands in Scotland, England, and France, hetook a liking to the Goodwood estate in Sussex,because it was near hunting land, and bought it from theCompton family in 1720. Here his descendants havelived ever since. He enjoyed the house for barely threeyears, dying in 1723 an unlamented grotesque old rake.His mother retained her beauty (Voltaire admired her inold age), and died in Paris in 1734.

* * *

Of the four ducal houses descended from Charles II,Buccleuch is the most distinguished and has been by farthe most successful, if the accumulation of wealth be themeasure of success. By exercising care and wisdom inthe choice of wives over the generations, always fromaristocratic families, and nearly always bringingproperty with them, the Buccleuchs watched their landsexpand until they covered nearly half a million acres inthe nineteenth century. Of course, they have not just satby idly totting up figures; they are a far from indolentrace, and are well known for having managed their vastestates with exemplary acumen and devotion. When

one of Gladstone's daughters, staying at DrumlanrigCastle, a Buccleuch estate in Dumfriesshire, asked the5th Duke, "Where are the park walls?" he replied bypointing to the distant mountains.59

The possessions are now greater by far than anyprivate land owner not only in Britain, but in Europe.They started with Scottish estates derived fromBuccleuch ancestors long before Charles II was born.To this they added the estates given by Charles to hiserrant son the Duke of Monmouth, who married intothe Buccleuch family. When Monmouth was attaintedfor high treason in 1685 his dignities were naturallyforefeited, but his Scottish peerages were regranted tohis widow. The King then gave her the Monmouthproperty in England (though not the titles) which shepromptly settled on the children. The 2nd Duke (1694-1751), Monmouth's grandson, lost ducal dignity bydisplaying an inappro priate taste for women of thelower classes. He plunged into the meanest companyand became an object of contempt to his peers. LadyLouisa Stuart wrote that he was "a man of meanunderstanding and meaner habits",80 by which shemeant that he liked unkempt and uneducated women.

He went so far as to marry one, a charwoman fromWindsor called Alice Powell, who thereupon foundherself a most incongruous Duchess of Buccleuch. Butthey had no children, and the curious Duke had alreadybeen married once before (to the Duke ofQueensberry's daughter), from which union sprung hisdescendants in the Buccleuch and Queensberry line.His strange behaviour did, therefore, no lasting damage.His washerwoman duchess is buried in Wandsworth.He was also a spendthrift, recklessly chopping downhis forests to make money from the sale of timberwhich he could spend on his "low amours". All in all, aquirky aber ration in an otherwise regular descent.

Far more dangerous was the epidemic ofsmallpox which carried off many membersof the family in 1750, almost threatening towipe them out entirely. "Lord Dalkeith isdead of the smallpox in three days", wroteWalpole to Horace Mann. "It is sodreadfully fatal in his family, that besidesseveral uncles and aunts, his eldest boydied of it last year; and his other brother,who was ill but two days, putrified so fast,that his limbs fell off, as they lifted thebody into the coffin."61 The title had topass to a grandson.

The. 3rd Duke of Buccleuch (1746-1812)consolidated the family fortune in threeways: he inherited from his mother, adaughter and heiress of the Duke ofArgyll, lands in Scotland; he inherited theQueensberry lands in 1810 on the death ofhis cousin the 4th Duke of Queensberry,with considerable estates in Dumfriesshire(including Drumlanrig Castle); he also,incidentally, became 5th Duke ofQueensberry at the same time; and finallyhe married a daughter of the Duke ofMontagu, through whom his familyinherited Montagu lands, including thesumptuous Boughton House.

So, the estates of three different families have becomeunited in the family of Buccleuch, namely those ofScott, Dukes of Buccleuch, Douglas, Dukes ofQueensberry, and Montagu, Dukes of Montagu. Thistriple inheritance is reflected in the family surname ofMontagu- Douglas-Scott.

His predecessor in the dukedom of Queensberrywas the notorious old lecher the 4th Duke, known as"Old Q" (1724-1810). He was a famous figure inRegency London by virtue of his easily observable

libido where young ladies were concerned. His housestood at the top of Piccadilly, Nos. 138 and 139,between Hamilton Place and Park Lane, sadlydemolished in 1973. In sunny weather, Old Q would siton his first-floor balcony, perched on a little cane chairand dressed in a blue coat and yellow breeches, aparasol over his head, ogling the ladies who walkedbeneath. He was a familiar sight to passers- by. Hebuilt an exterior flight of stairs from the balcony to streetlevel, so that when he gave the nod to his messenger atthe door below, a man called Jack Radford, Jack couldfetch the pretty victims to the Duke's company withouttheir having to pass through the house. Stories weretold of orgies going on inside the house, and he isknown, on one occasion, to have re-enacted in hisdrawing-room, with three beautiful London girls, thescene in Homer where the goddesses revealedthemselves to Paris and desired him to choose whichwas the most beautiful.

Old Q pursued pleasure under every shape, "andwith as much ardour at fourscore as he had done attwenty", wrote Wraxall. It was said that the old rouetook a prominent part in the orgies, and went to

extraordinary lengths to stimulate his flagging sexualpowers.62 Love seems to have but rarely entered hislife. He had as a young man a passion for Pelham'sdaughter, but they did not marry, perhaps because hisdissipated habits made him an unsuitable match. In fact,neither Old Q nor Miss Pelham ever married. Hefathered a natural daughter, to whom he showed littleaffection. "I wish I could make him feel as he ought, butone may as well wash a brick", wrote Warner toSelwyn. Lady Louisa Stuart was yet harsher. "What orwhom did he ever love ?" she asked.

When age had made a ruin of his body, with sight inonly one eye, hearing in only one ear, practicallytoothless and full of aches and pains, a man whomThackerary called "a wrinkled, palsied, toothless oldDon Juan",63 his mind remained alert, his memory clear,his judgement sound. Wraxall averred that Old Q hadmore common sense than anybody he knew. Raikesdescribed him as a "little, sharp- looking man, veryirritable, and swore like ten thousand troopers".64 Healso said he was mean, which does discredit to Raikes,for Old Q was always generous to his friends, to a

degree rare in any age.One instance of craftiness rather than

meanness was the terms on which hepaid his doctor, who slept at his bedsideevery night for the last six years of theDuke's life. He was paid a handsomedaily rate while he lived, on theunderstanding that the doctor wouldreceive not a penny when he died; Old Qloved life so much, he thought this asensible insurance to prolong it. He alsobathed in milk.

He could not bear to be bored. "What is there tomake so much of in the Thames," he said, "I am quitetired of it. There it goes, flow, flow, flow, always thesame."65

As his end approached in 1810 (an end which heunwittingly hastened by eating too much fruit), lettersflooded in from women of every class and description,begging his favour. At least seventy letters littered hisbed, unopened. Everyone panted to know how hewould distribute his fortune. With little strengthremaining, he mut tered that he wanted to alter his will,since he decided it was foolish to leave legacies;

everything belonged to Bonaparte, he rambled on, andtherefore all distribution was idle. He died before hewas able to put this intention into effect. The will gaveaway most of his fortune of £900,000 in twenty-fivecodicils leaving specific bequests, including £600 a yearto the cashier at his bank. The male servants wereprovided for, but not one of the female, not even hishouse keeper. And the doctor, Mr Fuller, was omittedaccording to the bargain.66

Old Q was one of the last aristocrats to keep up thepractice of having a running footman beside his coach.Any candidate for the post would be made to dress upin full livery, then run up and down Piccadilly, while theDuke observed and timed him from his balcony. Onesuch man, after his trial run, came before the balcony,panting. "You will do very well for me," said Old Qfrom above, imperiously. "And your livery will do verywell for me," replied the man, who promptly ran offwith it.67

The other Buccleuch ancestor, the Duke of Montagu,was eccen tric in quite a different way. He was given toexcesses of generosity. He once met an unkempt manon a walk in the Mall, dressed in rags, and invited him

to dine the following Sunday. He learnt that the man'swife and family lived in penury in Yorkshire. When theman arrived for dinner, the Duke told him he had somepleasant people for him to meet, opened the door ofthe dining-room, and there revealed wife and childrenbrought down by the Duke from York shire. He calledhis lawyer, and there and then settled an annuity of£200 upon the astonished man.68By the time the 5thDuke of Buccleuch (1806-1884) came into his titles atthe age of thirteen, nine years after Queensberry'sdeath, his various estates had swollen to a phenomenalsize, and the self-assured youth was accountedimportant enough to be able to entertain George IV atDalkeith House in Edinburgh for two weeks, when hewas only sixteen years old. In adult life he was LordPrivy Seal and Lord President of the Council, but hisbrief foray into politics was not successful. Grevilleunkindly called him "worse than useless" in Peel'sgovernment, though he acknowledged that Buccleuchwas good- humoured. Like all his family he was mostsuccessful as a landowner, wearing his shepherd'strousers and his peaked cap.60 He was im menselypopular with his tenants, and easy to get on with,

equally at home with the peasant as with the prince, andhad only one form of address for both. (One of hisdescendants is Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, whosesurname is Douglas-Scott-Montagu.)

This duke, obviously an endearing character, kept allhis houses ready for occupation by their owner at anymoment (and there were nine of them, plus three otherswhich he did not use). But he and his duchess felt verykeenly that it was a matter of social duty to share thesevast inheritances. So they literally kept open house. Forthree months every year Drumlanrig Castle in Scotlandwas a home for anyone who wanted to invite himself.He could bring his entire family, and retinue if he hadone, and stay as long as he wanted. No one was everrefused or turned away as long as there was an emptybedroom in the house. This custom naturallyencouraged an army of opportunists, but the family rulewas to welcome everyone, notwith standing theirmotives or the degree of their acquaintance with theDuke. All you had to do was write to him and tell himyou were coming.70

The ease of manner, so characteristic of theBuccleuchs, survives into the twentieth century. The 8th

Duke, who died in 1973, found it peculiarly distastefulto be treated according to rank. He was hap piestentertaining people on any one of his huge estates,managing his farms, or hunting. The expertly bredBuccleuch hounds are one of the few remaining familypacks, founded by the 5th Duke. He was one of thecountry's experts on forestry, and planted more than amillion trees every year on his own lands. But his realgenius lay in preserving his family possessions. Othertwentieth-century dukes have been forced byoverwhelming death duties and other burdensome taxeswhich come with the egalitarian age to sell much of theirland, in some cases all of it, or to open their homes tothe public. Buccleuch never had to sell an acre, and stillmanaged to run three vast private homes, with aconsiderable domestic staff. In 1923 he formed aprivate company. Buccleuch Estates Ltd, which ownsand runs all his property, and in the early 1950s hesettled the major part of his personal shareholding onhis son the Earl of Dalkeith (the present Duke), inconsideration of his marriage, thus neatly avoiding anesti mated £10,000,000 in death duties. Whenever hedid sell, it was a painting or two, never land, and there

is still an art collection left in his private hands worthmillions. This is perhaps why the Duke of Buccleuch'swealth continued while other ducal houses were handedover to trustees and their owners struggled to keepgoing. A senior member of the Royal Household onceobserved that if the possessions of the Queen and theDuke of Buccleuch were offered to auction he wouldnot care to say which would fetch the higher price.71

And the Director of the Louvre Museum in Paris washeard to apologise to the Duke that the French furnitureon display could not hope to match the Duke's privatecollection.

The most famous of the Buccleuch houses isBoughton House, near Kettering in Northamptonshire,with its seventy miles of avenues, and 100 acres ofgarden, modelled after Versailles. The estate covers11,000 acres. When Chips Channon saw it in 1945 hewas aghast with wonder; he wrote in his diary :

"It is a dream house with a strange, sleepy quality,but its richness, its beauty and possessions arestupefying. Everything belonged to Charles I, orMarie de Medici, or was given by Louis XIV to the

Duke of Monmouth. Every 'enfilade' is elegantlyarranged with Buhl chests, important pictures,Caffieri clocks, and the whole house is crammedwith tapestries and marvellous objects ... It hashardly been lived in for 200 years. There is a writing-table which belonged to Cardinal Mazarin and 14small Van Dyks in Walter Buccleuch's 'loo'. Over allthis splendour Mollie reigns delightfully andeffortlessly."72

Mollie was the Duchess, mother of the presentDuke; elsewhere Channon says she has difficultydeciding which of her five tiaras to wear. Herpredecessor was the Duchess of Buccleuch, whom theDuchess of Marlborough shocked by seating herhousekeeper next to her in the pew of WestminsterAbbey. Lady Warwick said that "Society for herconsisted only of those upon whom she permittedherself to smile. The unfavoured were all of the outerdarkness."7'Boughton House came to the Buccleuchsthrough the Duke of Montagu, who built it. Throughthe Duke of Queensberry came the other impressiveproperty, already mentioned, Drumlanrig Castle in

Dumfriesshire. If Boughton is the most beautiful housein England, then Drumlanrig is the most romantic inScotland. It stands on a lofty hill, alone and dominant,and is built in local pink sandstone which glows in thesunset. Above the main entrance, clustered with turretsand towers, is a huge ducal coronet in stone. It is abreath taking sight. It has been described as standingon a teacup inverted in a washbasin, the rim of which isthe ring of mountains which the 5th Duke told MissGladstone were his park walls.

Then there is Eildon Hall in Roxburghshire, andBowhill in Selkirk. Dalkeith House in Edinburgh is let toInternational Computers. The other houses are lived in.

The man who has recently succeeded to this dauntinginheritance, currently amounting to a quarter of a millionacres, is the 9th Duke of Buccleuch (born 1923), anunassuming cheerful former M.P. known to the Houseof Commons as "Johnny Dalkeith". While styled as theEarl of Dalkeith during his father's lifetime, herepre sented Edinburgh North in the Commons, wherehe was warmly regarded. He was the first of his familyfor generations to marry out side the aristocracy,choosing a pretty and enchanting model then known as

Miss Jane McNeil. (His aunt Alice, daughter of the 7thDuke, married into the Royal Family, and is nowH.R.H. Princess Alice, Dowager Duchess ofGloucester.)

Dalkeith's political career was interrupted by aserious riding accident which occurred in 1971, andwhich left him completely paralysed from the chestdown. The horse fell on him and broke his spine. Hedid not lose consciousness, and remembers clearly hisimme diate thoughts. "The moment the horse fell on me,I knew my back was broken. I realised quite clearlythat I was paralysed from the chest down and that Iwould have to learn to adjust to a completely new wayof life. It was five minutes before anyone reached me.By this time I had weighed up the situation and wasready to start the process of recovery."74 Afterconvalescence, Dalkeith returned to the House ofCommons in a wheelchair.

He might well have been able to continue service inthe House for many years, but the decision not to wasmade for him by his father's death in 1973, when hebecame 9th Duke of Buccleuch and 11th Duke ofQueensberry, as well as succeeding to ten other titles,

with such romantic Scottish names as Earl ofDrumlanrig and Sanquhar, Viscount of Nith,Torthorwald and Ross, and Lord Douglas ofKinmount, Middlebie and Dornock. His English titlesare Earl of Doncaster and Baron Scott of Tindal. Thereis no reason in law or logic why he should not also beDuke of Monmouth, but only the 1st Duke held thattitle. When he was beheaded for high treason in 1685Monmouth's English titles were forfeited. His grandson,the 2nd Duke of Buccleuch, was restored by Act ofParliament in 1742 to the English peerages ofDoncaster and Tindal, but not to the dukedom ofMonmouth. The reason was presumably that there wasalready then living an Earl of Monmouth; this earldombecame extinct in 1814, since when the way has beenopen for the Duke of Buccleuch to be restored asDuke of Monmouth. It is still within the Queen's powerto reverse the attainder and resurrect this historic title.

One other distinction the Duke enjoys is Lord of theManor of the Hundred of Knightlow in Warwickshire.In this capacity he is entitled to claim payment of the"Wroth Silver" on nth November (Martinmas Day)every year. The ceremony has been faithfully

con ducted for about 1000 years. There are twenty-eight parishes involved, and each one sends arepresentative to drop his contribution to the silver inthe hollow of Knightlow Cross. They usually drop merepennies. But the whole procedure becomes potentiallyinteresting if anyone defaults in payment. He then has topay £1 for every penny that his contribution is short, orprovide and give to the Duke a white bull with a rednose and red ears. When the ceremony is completed,they all repair to the Dun Cow at Stretton to celebratewith hot rum and milk.

* * *

The descendants of the Duke of Grafton have beenchiefly remark able for their indolence and theirlongevity. The 2nd Duke was "almost a slobberer,without one good quality" according to Dean Swift,75

while Lord Waldegrave said he was "totally illiterate;yet from long observation and great natural sagacity hebecame the courtier of his time. . . . He was a greatteazer; had an established right of saying whatever hepleased."76 Lord Hervey thought him a "booby" and

wrote an unkind verse about him :

"So your friend, booby Grafton, I'll e'en let you keep,Awake he can't hurt, and he's still half asleep. Nor everwas dangerous but to womankind, And his body's asimpotent now as his mind." However, he was LordChamberlain to George II, and an influential man. Andhe built Euston Road. Walpole tells an amusing storyabout Grafton when he was old and ill, covered insores. The Duke of Newcastle was forever "poppingin", and had a disconcerting habit of throwing his armsaround men and kissing them repeatedly andpassionately. Grafton's doctors thought Newcastle anuisance and a pest, and ordered that he should not beallowed in the house. But he forced his way in, and

"The Duke's gentleman would not admit him to thebedchamber, saying His Grace was asleep.Newcastle protested he would go in on tiptoe andonly look at him - he rushed in, clattered his heels towaken him, then fell upon the bed, kissing andhugging him. Grafton waked; 'God, what's here?''Only I, my dear Lord' - Buss, buss, buss, buss.! -'God! How can you be such a beast to kiss such a

creature as I am, all over plasters! Get along, getalong!' and turned about and went to sleep."77

Grafton and Newcastle had both been, at varioustimes, lovers of George II's daughter, the PrincessAmelia. According to some sources, Grafton had spenttime with another royal daughter, Princess Caro line.

The real torment of the 2nd Duke's life was his sonand heir Lord Euston, who by every account was awicked and repellent creature. The facts are few, andhis contemporaries seem too horrified to enter intodetails when they refer to him, but his evil reputationrests upon his disgraceful treatment of his wife. LordEuston married Lady Dorothy Boyle on ioth October,1741. Within seven months, she was dead, andeveryone appeared to be glad for her. Lady Dorothywas the daughter of the Earl of Burling ton (whosehouse was where the Royal Academy now stands inPiccadilly, and after whom Burlington Arcade isnamed). She was pretty, good-natured, gentle andquiet, and she had the misfortune when only sixteen tofall in love with Lord Euston. She adored him, fawnedupon him, worshipped his every word. She seemed

blind to what everyone else knew, which was that hewas boorish and cruel, with a fearful temper, inheritedno doubt from his great-grandmother Barbara Villiers.At a ball at the Duke of Norfolk's in October 1740 (ayear before they married) Euston was seen to treat hisfiancée with public contempt. On another occasion, atdinner, in front of assembled guests, he shouted at heracross the table, "Lady Dorothy, how greedily you eat!It is no wonder that you are so fat." The poor girlblushed and began to cry. Her mother, LadyBurlington, came to her defence. "It is true, my lord,that she is fat, and I hope she will always be so, for it isher constitution, and she will never be lean until she isless happy than we have always tried to make her,which I shall endeavour to prevent her being." It is notrecorded how the bullish Earl reacted to that humiliatingriposte, but he was too insen sitive for it to affect him.Lady Hertford, who was present, said that were theyoung lady her daughter, she would sooner prepare forher funeral than for such a marriage.78

Horace Mann recalls another instance when LordEuston "gave a specimen of himself many years agohere, when he was so rude as to make the mild little

Lady Essex say that she would hit him a slap in theface".79 His behaviour must indeed have been unusuallyprovocative to splinter the calm of aristocratic reserveto this extent.

Nothing was able to prevent Lady Dorothy's rushinto disaster. After the marriage, Lord Euston forbadehis mother-in-law to enter his house. Scandal explodedimmediately. Walpole wrote in a tizzy only a fortnightafter the wedding,

"I wrote you word that Lord Euston is married: in aweek more I believe I shall write you word that he isdivorced. He is brutal enough; and has forbid LadyBurlington his house, and that in very ungentle terms.The whole family is in confusion; the Duke of Graftonhalf dead, and Lord Burlington half mad. The latterhas challenged Lord Euston, who accepted thechallenge, but they were prevented ... in short, onecannot go into a room but you hear something of it.Do you not pity the poor girl? of softest temper, vastbeauty, birth, and fortune, to be so sacrificed! "so

There is total obscurity about what happened in those

seven months of marriage. Hanbury Williams assertedthat the marriage was never consummated.81 Eustonhad had another bride in view, and we do not knowwhat made him switch to Dorothy Boyle. Certainly, allthe love was on her side. Walpole says above thatEuston was "brutal . . . ungentle". Lady Orrery says thatDorothy "died from his ill- treatment of her", but doesnot specify in what way his treatment was ill.82 Anotherwriter can only bring himself to say that Lord Euston'sbehaviour was "almost too revolting to be believed",without telling us what it was so that we may be giventhe chance to believe it or not.

In fairness, Lady Dorothy's health had never beenvigorous. When she was twelve years old she wrote toher mother

"This is to let you know that I was took with aswimming in my head last Saturday and they told meon Sunday that I had a sort of fit in the night but Iwas asleep and knew nothing of it and they sent toMr Terry to come and he went next morning toconsult Dr Mead who ordered Mr Dickens to comeand bleed me which he did and at night Mr Terry

gave me a vomit."83

It might well be that the "swimming" in her head wasold-fashioned intoxication, to judge by the liquidnourishment she was served. "Pray mama send meword what you would have me drink with my dinner",she wrote, "for the Barrel Beer is so thick and so bitterthat I cannot drink it."84

Medically, her death was caused by smallpox, forwhich Euston cannot in all justice be blamed. Yetcontemporaries were in no doubt that he hadcontributed in some way.

After her death, her mother painted a portrait of herfrom memory, and placed beneath it this tellinginscription :

LADY DOROTHY BOYLE

born May the 14th 1724She was the comfort and Joy of her parents, thedelight of all who knew her angelick temper, andthe admiration of all who saw her beauty. Shewas married October the 10th, 1741, and

delivered (by death) from misery May the 2nd,1742

The portrait is in the possession of theDuke of Devonshire.

A print was also published of Lady Dorothy,beneath which was appended this fulsome poem :

"View here ye Fair the boast of Femalelife,

The faultless virgin, and the faithfulwife;

Once her fond parents' comfort, joy andpride,

Who never gave them pang, till made abride;

In virtue, as in Beauty, she excelled,

Yet Nature equally the balance held;

When seen, all hearts her willing slavesbecame;

When known, that knowledge damp'd

each kindling flame :

The wish of every noble Youth sheshone,

Till Love and Honour gave her all toOne;

To one - alas! - unworthy such a prize,

His soul to virtue deaf, to beauty blindhis Eyes"88

There is evidence that the lamentableEuston terrorised his tenants as well as hiswife. Walpole told his correspondent "anew exploit of his barbarity". A tenantbrought his rent to Lord Euston, who saidit was 3s. 6d. short. The tenant protestedthat he thought he was correct, but hewould examine the account again, andmeanwhile was quite happy to give HisLordship the additional 3s. 6d. if he sowished. Euston flew into a rage andthreatened to have the man removed fromhis job on the estate forthwith. "The poorman, who has six children, and knewnothing of my Lord's being on no terms ofpower with his father, went home and shothimself."86

Relief more than sorrow greeted thenews of Euston's death in 1747, thusremoving the threat that this monstermight become Duke of Grafton. The 2ndDuke died ten years later, and wassucceeded in the title by his grandson,Augustus Henry, who belongs to historyfor his period in office as Prime Minister,between 1767 and 1770, and for hisscandalous affair with Nancy Parsons.

Augustus Henry, 3rd Duke of Grafton (1735-1811)was not meant for high office. He was full of goodintentions and generous motives, but he possessed inabundance the inherited traits of sloth and venery. Hewas lazy and pleasure-seeking, timid in decision,weak in resolve. He became Prime Minister becausethe then Prime Minister, Chatham, suffered a seriousbreakdown in health (from which he later recoveredto rescue Grafton from the concentrated attackswhich made his years in office a nightmare). AsMassey has written, "unsteady, capricious, andindolent, he had hardly any quality for a statesman ...he owed his elevation partly to accident, partly to his

great rank and fortune".87 The Spectator echoed thisjudgement: "a man of weak will, admirable purpose,and common intellect ... for politics he had not thesmallest talent".88 Sir George Trevelyan hasdescribed him as "a most unlucky figure in history".Although much esteemed by some contemporaries,he was simply not equal to the tasks which werethrust upon him, and he suffered more than anyonefrom the cruel satire of Junius, whose Letters containmerciless attacks, in remorseless succession, madeall the more deadly by the sharp purity of their style.I shall quote just one reference out of dozens :"It isnot that you do wrong by design, but that you shouldnever do right by mistake. It is not that yourindolence and your activity have been equallymisapplied, but that the first uniform principle, or, if Imay call it the genius of your life, should have carriedyou through every possible change and contradictionof conduct, without the momentary imputation orcolour of a virtue . . . [the ancestors] of your grace,for instance, left no distressing examples of virtue,even to their legitimate posterity, and you may lookback with pleasure to an illustrious pedigree, in which

heraldry has not left a single good quality uponrecord to insult or upbraid you. You have betterproofs of your descent, my lord, than the register ofa marriage, or any troublesome inheritance orreputation. There are some hereditary strokes ofcharacter by which a family may be as clearlydistinguished as by the blackest features of thehuman face."89

Junius also pointed the finger at Grafton, with bitterestjest, for his affair with Nancy Parsons, which made him,while still Prime Minister, the laughing-stock of London.

Nancy Parsons was the daughter of a Bond Streettailor, who mar ried a man called Horton, but hadaffairs with a goodly section of London's nobility. She isdescribed as "the Duke of Grafton's Mrs Horton, theDuke of Dorset's Mrs Horton, everybody's MrsHorton". She also had a relationship with the Duke ofBedford, who installed her for a time at WoburnAbbey. She eventually married Lord Maynard, not thatthat made any difference to her habits. Foolishly,Grafton escorted her quite blatantly in public, makingno allowance for good taste or piety. Junius then wrote

some unpublishable obscene verses on the affair, calledHarry and Nan, which, together with the sustainedinvective of the letters, upset the Prime Minister deeply.He was thrown into agonies of embarrassment andindecision, the verses preyed on his mind, so that hewas incapacitated for whole days and neglected theduties of office.90

He took the earliest opportunity to resign, whenChatham was well enough to resume work in 1770. Noone was more relieved than he. But he had been, to saythe least, indiscreet, and he deserved re proach. Theblood of Barbara Villiers pulsed through his veins,making him liable to drop everything for an indulgenceof passion, which, with the influence of John Wesleyjust then being felt in the country, managed to outrageeven those easygoing times. In the words of Walpole,he thought "the world should be postponed to a whoreand a horse-race", and he "insulted the virtue anddecency of mankind by the most unblushing violation ofboth". Town and Country was no less accusing; whileGrafton was still Prime Minister, it published an issuecondemning him as "a gamester who squandered thetreasures of the nation upon horses and women, and

who, left to guide the helm of fate, would soon plunge itinto inevitable destruction".91

"His fall was universally ascribed to his pusillanimity[wrote Walpole], but whether betrayed by his fearsor his friends, he had cer tainly been the chief authorof his own disgrace. His haughtiness, indolence,reserve, and improvidence, had conjured up thestorm; but his obstinacy and fickleness alwaysrelaying each other, and always mal a propos, werethe radical causes of all the numerous absurdities thatdiscoloured his conduct and exposed him todeserved reproaches; nor had he the depth ofunderstanding to counterbalance the effects of histemper."92

The 3rd Duke of Grafton married twice, and hadfourteen children, to whom he added an illegitimateoffspring of a further eighteen according to oneestimate.Since then, successive Dukes of Grafton have settleddown to less publicised lives, without high politicaloffice, but without too the con stant calumnies on their

name. In the nineteenth and twentieth cen turies theyhave successfully thrown off the reputation of theirancestry to emerge modestly in their military careers.Only once did a brief flurry of publicity bring their nameto general attention, and then it was quickly quashed. Itwas in connection with the Cleveland Street scandal of1889 (see also Chapter 5). The Earl of Euston's namewas mentioned by the North London Press as being afrequent visitor to the male brothel there, upon which heimmediately brought an action for criminal libel againstthe newspaper. The editor and publisher were tried on15th January 1890, bringing as their only substantialwitness to show that the libel was true a dreadful youngprostitute called John Saul, who gloried in the fuss. Saultestified that he had taken Lord Euston to 19 ClevelandStreet and committed acts of indecency with him.Euston said he went there once, innocent of thepurpose of the house, and had left immediately when hediscovered that it was a brothel. Saul, who admittedthat he was a professional "Mary-Anne" and earned £8or £9 a week in this way, went into some sordid detailsabout his craft, specifying the sort of pleasure that healleged Euston enjoyed. But Saul was a loathsome

creature, and his evidence was easily discredited. In theend, Euston won his case, cleared his name, and wasgiven an apology by the North London Press, whonevertheless maintained that they had other evidencethey were not at liberty to divulge. Saul, who oughtlogically to have been prosecuted for immorality orperjury, went scot free. And no mention was madeduring the trial of a statement made to the police byanother boy, Newlove, who also, independently ofJohn Saul, had mentioned Euston's name.93

Euston was the son of the 7th Duke of Grafton, whooutlived him. The 8th Duke, Euston's brother, had ason who was killed in an air crash in 1918, thus passingthe dukedom directly to his grandson, the 9th Duke, atthe age of sixteen. He, too, died in tragic circumstancesat the wheel of his racing car at the age of twenty-two.He was suc ceeded by his cousin as 10th Duke in1936.

The family still lives at Euston Hall, the propertysecured by marry ing the infant 1st Duke to its owner.The house has undergone some changes in recentyears. Evelyn described it in 1671 (before the 1st Dukeof Grafton was born) as "a very noble pile . . .

magnificent and commodious, as well within as without. . . but the soil dry, barren, and miserably sandy, whichflies in drifts as the wind sits". The 10th Duke, who diedin 1970, sold part of the Euston estate to meet deathduties, leaving 11,000 acres which remain today; in1950 he demolished two-thirds of Euston Hall itselfwith a view to economy, to save on running expensesand to modernise. At approxi mately the same time, hebought 24,000 acres in Rhodesia.

His son, the 11th Duke, born in 1919, lives at Eustonin seclu sion and deep privacy. Only in 1975 did hedecide to open his house to the public, in celebration ofEuropean Architectural Heri tage Year. Quite unlike hisforbears, however, he is one of the most active of thetwenty-six dukes alive today. A trustee of the LondonMuseum, of the National Portrait Gallery, and of the SirJohn Soane Museum, his first attentions go to theSociety for Protection of Ancient Buildings, of which heis chairman. He is also connected with the HistoricChurches Preservation Trust. The Duke's knowl edgein these fields is immense; nobody knows more aboutVictorian building than he, and few care morepassionately. He is also one of the half-dozen dukes

who regularly appear in the House of Lords, where hespeaks on his subject of conservation and preservation.He does not dabble in politics, but there are not manyin his position who are so hard-working, or who havesuch a keen desire to contri bute to national life.

The Duchess of Grafton, d.c.v.o., has been Mistressof the Robes to the Queen since 1967.

The streets surrounding Euston Station to the north ofBloomsbury all bear names which testify to the Graftonpast. The 1st Duke's wife inherited not only the Eustonestate, but the manor of Tottenham Court (henceTottenham Court Road). Fitzroy Square reminds usthat the family surname is Fitzroy (fil du roi), of royaldescent.

* * *

The Dukes of St Albans have not been, for the mostpart, illustri ous or accomplished, though they havebeen well placed; the 4th Duke was a close friend ofGeorge III and sat next to him, by royal command, atthe Jockey Club dinner, but he was only Duke for ayear. Historical memoirs have some scattered remarksabout the rest, usually disparaging. Lord Hervey said of

the 2nd Duke that he was "one of the weakest meneither of the legitimate or spurious brood of theStuarts";84 he was grandson of Charles II and NellGwynn, both amenable and agreeable people, but notstrong-willed.

The 3rd Duke was called by Walpole "the simpleDuke of St Albans".95 Simple or not, he managed topack his life with, in the words of the biographers of thefamily, "a glittering crescendo of feats of incompetencequite unparalleled in the lives of any other dukes in theeighteenth century".96 The soft sensuality of Charles IIre-emerged in the 3 rd Duke of St Albans, who beganwell by apparently fathering a child while he himself wasstill a schoolboy. Thereafter, he had several children(the number is not precise) scat tered in Paris, Brusselsand Venice, whither he had fled to escape his creditors.According to Walpole, he gave his kitchen-maid achild, then gave it a sumptuous funeral in defiance of hisdebts. Returning to England, he was thrown into adebtors' gaol.97 By the time he died in 1786, the StAlbans finances were chaotic. A contemporary epitaphhad this to say about him:

"Immersed in Dissipation, knew not anInclination

Which he forebore to gratify.

Contempt and Wretchedness

Closed the train of Dishonour, Riotand Sensuality.

He lamented his Mistakes, withoutreforming his Conduct;

And having lived a tyrannicalHusband and an Insincere Friend,

Died an Exile, and a Mendicant."98

The 4th Duke was second cousin to the 3rd. He diedunmarried at twenty-eight, and was succeeded as 5thDuke by his first cousin once removed, whose son, 6thDuke of St Albans, was "the most hideous,disagreeable little animal that I ever met with", in thewords of Lady Harriet Cavendish.99 He in turn wassucceeded by his only son, aged four months. Or was

he ?The child was born after twelve years of marriage,

and during the course of a hectic affair the Duchess washaving with one "Sinclair", who may have been SirGeorge Sinclair. The lovers were meeting again whilethe body of the late Duke was scarce cold, and in thenext room, which gave rise, not unnaturally, to somecomment. The Duchess announced another pregnancyafter her husband's death, which was more than thefamily could take. Deli cate investigations were made toprove that the foetus could not possibly belong to thelate Duke. The whole business was resolved by fate inthe end, as the little boy lived only ten months, to besuc ceeded by his Uncle William, who had beenmaking all the fuss about his paternity.

There is one sophisticated exception to this sorry list- Topham Beauclerk, friend of Dr Johnson, andgrandson of the 1st Duke of St Albans. His namederived from the outrageous character of his father,Lord Sidney Beauclerk, a pursuer of elderly rich ladies,and a handsome bounder, who persuaded Mr Tophamof Windsor to leave him his fortune. Topham Beauclerkwas dissolute, but cultured, intelligent, and enlightened.

Johnson told him, "Thy body is all vice, and thy mind allvirtue." He was good company, entertaining, wellinformed, and very well read. When he died, his librarywas sold at public auction, and fetched £5011 in 1781.Johnson wrote: "Poor dear Beauclerk - nec, ut soles,debis joca. His wit and folly, his acuteness andmaliciousness, his merriment and reasoning, are nowover. Such another will not often be found amongmankind."

He had another, less savoury, reputation for lice,which flourished under his wig. He freely admitted thathe had enough to stock a parish.

The most famous in the St Albans line, however, isone of the duchesses. Harriot Mellon, later HarriotCoutts, and finally Duchess of St Albans, was bornpenniless, and died one of the richest women inEngland. Like Nell Gwynn, she was working-class, anactress, and with wealthy admirers. Her marriage to theDuke caused quite a stir, as she was then fifty yearsold, stout, and a widow, while he was a mere simple-minded youth of twenty-six, who refused to grow up.They suited each other at the time. The St Albans purseneeded replenishing (as always), and Harriot needed to

be accepted in society; she married for rank, he formoney. They were to be nick named "Lord Noodleand Queen Dollabella". Harriot Mellon was born in ornear 1777, the daughter of an Irish peasant woman anda mysterious soldier, whom no one has ever been ableto trace. Mother and daughter lived by their wits, fromday to day, and joined a travelling group of actors.Harriot was on stage before the age of ten, though sheand her mother subsisted on a beggar's income neverfar from abject poverty, until she was noticed by theplaywright Sheridan, when she was about sixteen, andpromised advancement. Sheridan had to be pestered tokeep his promise, but eventually arranged for Harriot toappear as Lydia Languish at Drury Lane. Her careerprogressed, including parts in Twelfth Night and TheMerry Wives of Windsor, but her most famous rolewas Mrs Candour in The School for Scandal. She alsoplayed, unsuccess fully it appears, as Ophelia inHamlet, Rosalind in As You Like It and Miranda in TheTempest. Her salary advanced to two guineas a week.

Two fortuitous events in 1806 or 1807 overturnedHarriot's life. She won £10,000 (or a portion of it) in araffle, and was able to buy a house in Highgate called

Holly Lodge, which was later famous for herextravagant parties. The second stroke of fortune camewhen Thomas Coutts, the banker and the richest manof his day, fell hope lessly in love with her. He lavishedexpensive gifts upon her, and lifted her and her motherto the dizzy heights of sumptuous living. It was commonknowledge that they were soon living together.101 Twocircumstances made the liaison particularly distasteful:Mr Coutts was still married, and he was nearly eightyyears old. Harriot was in her early thirties. Herreputation never recovered from the malicious gossipwhich began to circulate. "Society", which consisted ofabout 300 people in London in those days, lookeddown its nose at this cheap adventure, and wouldnever, but never, accept Harriot into their hallowedcircles, however much money she might have. It hassince become clear that the raffle she won was adiscreet fiction; the money for Holly Lodge was put upby Coutts.

Mr Coutts's first wife died in 1815, and a fewmonths later he secretly married Harriot. When thenews became known, "decent" people felt outraged,though she cared little, for life was pleasant, money was

abundant, and she had servants, style, and sequins. MrCoutts was not a lascivious old man, but a kindlygentleman infatuated with Harriot's theatrical presence;he may even have been stage-struck. One day ajeweller called Mr Hamlet happened to show him abeautiful diamond cross. "How happy I should be withsuch a splendid specimen of jewellery," said Harriot,now Mrs Coutts, with as much subtlety as she couldmuster. Mr Coutts asked the jeweller how much it wasworth. "I could not part with it for under £15,000," hesaid. "Bring me pen and ink," said Coutts, who simplywrote out a cheque.102

Thomas Coutts was over ninety when he finally diedin 1822 (perhaps later than Harriot might reasonablyhave expected). His will left the whole of his fortune,about £900,000, to Harriot "for her sole use andbenefit, and at her absolute disposal, without thededuction of a single legacy to any other person",although he had three daughters by his first marriage.Again, tongues wagged, but this was not so heartless asit seemed; all three daughters married well, and werecomfortable, whereas Harriot had only what he couldgive her; besides, he trusted her not to forget them, and

his trust was proven to be justified.Three years later the romance with the Duke of St

Albans began. To her credit, she did everything todiscourage the young man, whose father had beencourting her as well. She was a portly middle-agedwoman, but with the high spirits and vivacity which inour own day has turned the head of many a young manbeguiled by the theatrical manner. Besides, St Albans,who had only recently succeeded to the title, had notmuch money, and she now had plenty. He proposed in1826, and she refused him, telling him to ask her againin twelve months' time if he still wanted her. When theyear was up, he proposed a second time. She refused,sending her letter with a messenger on horseback. Thenshe thought better of it, and sent another messenger tocatch up with the first and get the letter back.103 Theengagement was duly announced.

"The Duke of St Albans is to be married to MotherCoutts on Saturday", wrote Creevey, sardonically.104

In another place he referred to her as "the old DowagerCoutts" and said "a more disgusting, frowsy, hairy oldB. could not have been found in the Seven Dials".185

Nevertheless, London society nodded knowingly andlooked askance. Broughton said, "There are all sorts ofridiculous stories about the Duke and his marriage, butthe baseness is more prominent than the folly of such atransaction",100 and Sir Walter Scott wrote: "If theDuke marries her, he ensures an immense fortune; if shemarries him, she has the first rank. The disparity of agesconcerns no one but themselves; so they have myconsent to marry, if they can get each other's."107 Herstepson-in-law, Sir Francis Burdett, sat up all nightbefore the wedding trying to persuade her not to gothrough with it.108

Before the ceremony, Harriot's servants wore theCoutts livery. Immediately afterwards they appeared inthe St Albans yellow and black stockings.109 Hereceived, as a result of the union, £30,000, plus anestate in Essex valued at £26,000; all his unsettledproperty was answerable to the Coutts bank for anyclaims upon it. Lady Holland reflected on theappearance of the couple. The Duke, she wrote, "israther melancholy ... a handsome face with featuresquite immoveable, no sort of expression. A large,

handsome, dark, fixed, glazed eye. She affected to bevery joyous, but I think her gaiety all assumed. It is astrange alliance."110

Strange indeed. The new Duchess took into themarriage the pillow on which old Mr Coutts hadexpired. She travelled with it everywhere. The pillowand her favourite bible (which had belonged to Coutts)were always in a plain case by her side wherever shewent.111 Still she was not accepted in society. She gavemarvellous parties in Highgate, at which she hired all thebirds from all the bird-dealers in London, and hungthem in the grounds of her house, in keeping with herhusband's office as Grand Falconer;112 there weresimilarly extrovert parties at St Albans House inBrighton. But Lady Holland noticed that she wastreated with spite. "The ladies did not behave prettily orat all like grandes dames to the Duchess of St Albans.They really shouldered her on their bench. How canwomen behave so to one another!"113 Creeveyprofessed to be appalled at her squandering of wealthwhile poor people were starving, and called her "aprodigal fool and devil", but again he was unjust. She

was well known to be profusely generous andbenevolent, and her kindness to the poor in Highgate islegendary. She never forgot her origins. She once heardthat a woman was living in poverty in Brighton,disguised herself and visited her, leaving behind anenvelope contain ing £300.114 If she was cold-shouldered by the nobility, she remained vastly popularwith the people. She felt her isolation. "All is coldness,reserve, and universal ennui", she wrote.115 The Queenpointedly omit ted her from an invitation to a ball at theBrighton Pavilion at which 830 persons were present;there was hardly anyone of sub stance left in Brightonwho was not invited.116When she fell ill she subsistedfor the last two months on arrowroot and a littlebrandy, and nothing more. She clutched Mr Coutts'pillow to her, and expired on 6th August 1837.117 TheEnglish nobility lost a colourful and unlikely member oftheir ranks. When her will was published those whohad scorned and mocked had cause to show remorse.She left to the Duke of St Albans an annuity of£10,000, and two houses (including Holly Lodge). Therest of her vast fortune, now £1,800,000, she left to

Miss Angela Burdett, Mr Coutt's grand-daughter. Thenewspapers gleefully pointed out that this fortune ingold weighed more than thirteen tons, that it wouldrequire 107 men to carry it, if each one carried 298 lb.equivalent to a sack of flour, or in sovereigns it wouldcover more than twenty-four miles and take more thanten weeks to count.118 Angela grew into the BaronessBurdett-Coutts, the philanthropist.

The 9th Duke of St Albans, having first seduced aservant-girl, took as his second wife an Irishwomancalled Elizabeth Gubbins. The marriage was a disasteras far as the descendants were (and are) concerned,for it is Miss Gubbins who is suspected of havingbrought insanity into the family. Her brother CharlesGubbins was mad.

For the time being, however, nothing was untoward.They had a son and heir, who succeeded as 10th Dukein 1849, and married Sybil Grey. With the nextgeneration, the wayward seed was apparent. The nthDuke of St Albans (1870-1934) went irretriev ablymad, spending the last thirty years of his life locked upin a Sussex clinic. His brother William set fire to abuilding at Eton and then succumbed to total insanity. It

is difficult to say whether this weakness must be tracedonly to Elizabeth Gubbins; after all, her husband the 9thDuke himself died of an epileptic fit at the age of forty-eight, and, further back, the 6th Duke died of apoplexyof the brain in 1815.

The next Duke was 'Obby', Osborne de VereBeauclerk, 12th Duke of St Albans, half brother to thenth, and grandson of Elizabeth Gubbins. Though he wasalways said to be "mad as a hatter" by nearly ever/onewho knew him, Obby's eccentricities did not make himcertifiable. He never lost sight of the madness whichafflicted both his brothers and was apt to bemelancholy at times. Those who remember him (hedied in 1964, nearly ninety years old) have a clearerimpression of his colourful nonconformity. He proposedappearing at the coronation of 1953, for example, witha live falcon to remind everyone that he was HereditaryGrand Falconer, and when permission was not grantedhe elected not to go at all. He was a familiar sight in thechurch near where he lived in Ireland, snoring with ahandkerchief over his face, only waking up tocontradict the preacher with shouts of "Rubbish!" On avisit to Lord Dunraven, he arrived with a brown paper

bag containing pyjamas and a toothbrush.119 And hewas known to ask the hall porter at his club to wind hiswatch for him. There was one occasion when he satimpassively in a hotel restaurant when a fire alarmdisturbed him. He refused to move. As waiters tried toget him to escape, he said "Nonsense! Bring me somemore toast." "But your Grace's clothes!" exclaimed themanager. "Throw them out of the window," said Obby.

The Duke married but had no children, which was arelief to him, for he feared passing on the hereditarymadness. The fear did not extend to illegitimateoffspring, of which he mischievously claimed a fargreater number than could have been true. He had notime for his successor, the present Duke, whom heinvited only once. He used to ask other members of thefamily to "do something about the heir". When he died itwas realised that he had done precious little to protectwhat remained of the St Albans inheritance, and sopassed on to the next duke nothing but death duties."Bury me where I drop," he used to say.120

The man who succeeded as 13th Duke of St Albansin 1964 was Mr Charles de Vere Beauclerk, adescendant of the 8th Duke who died in 1825, before

Miss Gubbins came into the picture. He had aCambridge M.A. degree, and was decorated for hiswork in the Intelligence Division during the war with theO.B.E. After that he had a distinguished career in theCivil Service, in the Central Office of Information. Hewas still there when he became Duke, and did not infact resign until six months later. He presented theunusual spectacle of a middle-class duke, descendedfrom the coupling of King and Cockney girl, without alanded estate and dependent on a salaried position. Hethen went into the City, with a variety of companieswhose interests include property, travel, advertising andfinance. He had the acumen to make himself amillionaire, though he has not escaped some criticism.

The Duke had been married twice, has four sons anda daughter. His duchess is a slightly bohemian figure,born in Malaya and brought up in France, who formany years ran the Upper Grosvenor Art Galleries.The couple lived in a leasehold house in Chelsea,overlooking the Albert Bridge, with four bedrooms.They built on to it an art gallery, which housed theDuke's fine collection of family pictures, assembledmostly by his own efforts, and beautifully lit. They now

live in an apartment in Monte Carlo.What of the St Albans heirlooms? There is the

Bishop Juxon ring, given by Charles I just before hisexecution; some miniatures and jewellery belonging toNell Gwynn; and an exquisite seal of ivory, in the shapeof a falcon, which most probably belonged to the 9thDuke.

The property has all disappeared. Bestwood Park,which had been given to Nell Gwynn and on which hadbeen constructed a house resembling St PancrasStation, was sold in 1940. Holly Lodge, scene ofHarriot's parties, was sold by auction in 1906 after thedeath of Baroness Burdett-Coutts, and sincedemolished. At one time the Duke tried to buy fromRichmond Borough Council the house at HamptonCourt which had associations with Nell Gwynn andwhich was popularly thought to be haunted by herghost. But the Council demolished it. There is perhapsinjustice in all this, as Nell was, after all, the most loyalof Charles's mistresses. She was far too sensible a girlever to expect justice; she would not have beensurprised.

St Albans has inherited from Charles II

a jovial nature, easy to laugh and anxiousfor life to proceed smoothly and happily. Ifit does not, he is bewildered rather thanbitter. He is discomfited by strangers, onlyat ease when they show they do notexpect any special kind of behaviour. Hedoes not take his seat in the Lords, norpossess the coronet and robes to whichhis rank entitles him. Embarrassmentprevents him more than anything else. "Idon't enjoy dressing up," he says, and onemust agree that the ducal robes would situncomfort ably on his shoulders. He has apassionate interest in his family and aninalienable fondness for Charles II. TheDuke also believes that one of hisancestors, the de Vere Earl of Oxford, wasShakespeare, or part of him. He says thatShakespeare must have been a compositeman, a team of lawyers, doctors, soldiers,and men of letters, and that Oxford waspart of the team. A portrait of the Earl haspride of place in the Chelsea home.

This genial man is still Grand Falconerof England. But the right to drive down

Birdcage Walk,[5]

previously shared bythe monarch and the Duke, has gone. Therootlessness of the dukedom, deprived of

any inherited lands, is a sadness for whichthe Duke once made symboliccompensation: above the front door of hishouse in Chelsea, in thick

black letters, was the word st albans.

* * *

It is splendidly apt that the descendantsof Louise de Kerouaille - the Dukes ofRichmond — should be more closelyinvolved with the political life of thecountry than any of the other offspring ofCharles II, for Louise was the mostpolitically minded of his mistresses, andthe very affair which gave birth to the 1stDuke was a successful exercise in politicalstrategy. Not only that, but it is refreshingto find a line which has been universallypopular, instead of a clutch of historicalreferences which are derogatory orcontemptuous. One welcomes theopportunity to celebrate an exceptionalfamily.

Hervey, whose pen was usually dippedin poison, said of the 2nd Duke that he

was "friendly, benevolent, generous,honourable, and thoroughly noble in hisway of acting, talking, and thinking".121

Praise from such a quarter is not to betaken for granted.

The story of the 2nd Duke's marriage is one of thestrangest recorded. The Duke (1701-11750) waseighteen years old when he married Lady SarahCadogan, daughter of the 1st Earl of Cadogan; she wasthirteen. The marriage had been arranged to settle agambling debt between their parents. Immediately afterthe ceremony the girl was sent back to school and theyoung man was packed off to the continent with histutor; he did not set foot in England again for threeyears. When he did return, he had such an unpleasantmemory of his wife that, to avoid her, he spent his firstevening at the theatre. There he was captivated on sightby a beautiful girl whom he determined to get to know.He asked who she was, and could he be introduced."The reigning toast," he was told, "the beautiful LadyMarch" — his wife. One might say they fell in love atsecond sight.

From that moment they had an idyllic marriage,

sustaining the comfort and excitement of first love alltheir lives. Long after their children were grown,Walpole saw them at a ball, and wrote: "The Duke satby his wife all night, kissing her hand."122 She bore himtwelve children, most of whom enjoyed the famousRichmond good looks, and was pregnant twenty-seventimes. "She has a belly up to her chin", wrote Hervey,"and looks mighty well. His Grace is in great anxiety forher welfare, and a boy."123 At the same ball as thatreferred to above, "the two beauties were the Duke ofRichmond's two daughters, and their mother, stillhandsomer than they". The daughters continued theromantic traditions of their parents; Lady CarolineLennox eloped with Henry Fox (later Lord Holland),and Lady Emily married, against advice, the future 1stDuke of Leinster. George III was in love with a thirddaughter, Lady Sarah, and used to blush whenever hesaw her.

The Duke was a member of Parliament (as LordMarch), a Knight of the Garter, and a soldier, a fellowof the Royal Society, and Presi dent of the Society ofAntiquaries. As much as 250 years before the safaripark obsession took hold of some noble houses,

Richmond established a private zoo at Goodwood,which contained five wolves, two tigers, one lion, twoleopards, three bears, monkeys, eagles, and "a womanTyger" and a "new animal he is very fond of which hecalls a mangoose".124 He was free of any snobberyabout rank and status which, while not worthy ofcomment nowadays, was rare enough in the eighteenthcentury and was carried almost to revolutionary pitchby his son the 3rd Duke.

When he died he was genuinelylamented. Fielding called him "the lateexcellent Duke of Richmond". His wifedied of grief not long afterwards.

The 3rd Duke of Richmond (1735-1806) was, likehis father, of "an amorous disposition" and "a charmingfine boy". He was deeply affectionate, and impetuouslygenerous. "His person, manners, and address were fullof dignity, and the personal beauty which distinguishedMile de Kerouaille was not become extinct in him." Hewas "easy and accommodating in his manners andsociety".125 Yet he is chiefly remembered for his effecton public life. One might almost call him a Socialist, so

far in advance of his time were his extremely radicalviews. He introduced a Bill for Parliamentary Reformwhich even at the beginning of the twentieth centurywould have been considered intemperate. In 1730 onlyone person in six was entitled to vote, and most of theimportant seats in the House of Commons were withinthe gift of private landowners. Richmond's Billproposed that there should be universal suffrage abovethe age of eighteen (which did not happen until theelection of 1970), that elections should be held everyJune, and that the country should be divided into 558equally populous districts. The Bill was rejectedwithout a division.He was a tireless campaigner for the reform of abuses

in govern ment, always ferretting, always posingawkward questions. He wanted the Civil List, which hethought wasteful and lavish to a shameful degree, to beseverely cut. That proposal, too, was defeated.On the matter of American independence, Richmond

was again more to the left than any other nobleman. Hesaid that the resistance of the colonists was "neithertreason nor rebellion, but is perfectly justifiable in everypossible political and moral sense". It is no wonder that

he terrified his political colleagues with suchpronouncements, and alienated public opinion. OneM.P. said that if there were two Dukes of Richmond inthe country he would not live in it.126 George III isreported to have said "there was no man in hisdominions by whom he had been so much offended,and no man to whom he was so much indebted, as theDuke of Richmond".127

His personal integrity and high-minded fight againstabuses were so far beyond question that he retainedthe guarded affection of even those who could notstomach his views. He was not a man to bear grudges,though his austerity and tactlessness sometimes gavethe opposite impression.128 His one fault was to bepompously pleased with his own rectitude. Still,Walpole trumpeted his unequalled honour, said he wasone of the virtuous few, and incapable of an unworthyaction. "I worship his thousand virtues beyond anyman's", he wrote."He is intrepid and tender, inflexible and humanebeyond example. I do not know which is most amiable,his heart or his conscience. He ought too to be the

great model to all our factions. No difference insentiments between him and his friends makes theslightest impression upon his attachment to them."129

One other achievement was to open the first everSchool of Antique Sculpture in England, financed bythe Duke and housed in his Whitehall home, as early as1758, some ten years before the foundation of theRoyal Academy.

Richmond married Lady Mary Bruce, a descendantof Robert Bruce, but she died without issue. By hishousekeeper, Mrs Bennett, he had three daughters, towhom he left £50,000 each, and another daughter by aMiss Le Clerc.

His successor, the 4th Duke (1764-1819), was hisnephew. Once more, whatever references one can findtestify to the inherent good nature of this agreeablefamily. Sir Robert Peel wrote : "I never knew a man ofwhom it could be said with so much justice that he wasalways anxious to find an excuse for the misconduct ofhis friends, and to put the most charitable constructionon the acts of every human being."130 It is probablytrue to say that Charles II is more faithfully representedin the Dukes of Richmond than in any of his other

descendants. They carry the King's happy disposition intheir posterity, his good companionship, his soft nature.

The 4th Duke inherited the family's good looks ("thefinest formed man in England"),131 and marriedCharlotte, daughter of the Duke of Gordon. This wasthe Duchess who gave the most famous party in history,the so-called "Waterloo Ball" on 15th June 1815, at acoach- maker's depot decorated to look like aballroom, in the rue de la Blanchisserie in Brussels. Itwas the night before the Battle of Waterloo, and isremembered for having been a psychological weaponagainst Napoleon; Wellington received the news of theFrench attack at Charleroi while he was at the ball, andcalmly proceeded with his dinner. Princess Alice,Countess of Athlone, grand-daughter of QueenVictoria, met someone in her youth who had beenpresent at the Waterloo Ball, and was still telling thestory in the 1970s.

The 'Waterloo' Duchess brought the Gordon estatesinto the Richmond family, and eventually the re-creationof the Gordon dukedom, bestowed on her grandson.The Duke died in Canada of an agonising disease.' Hewas infected by hydrophobia by a rabid fox, and the

only way in which he could secure medical attention(not that that could have saved him) was to sail up theSt Lawrence. The sight of that vast expanse of waterbrought on successive violent fits, yet he fought hisimpulses and made the journey which must have been aslow thumbscrew of pain to him. Eventually, he couldtake it no longer. He begged to be rowed to dry land,then ran full pelt as far from water as possible. He diedin a forest bam.

The 5th Duke, his son, had a distinguished politicalcareer, was a cabinet minister, and was tipped as PrimeMinister after Wellington. He was, yet again, muchliked, frank and open, and adored by his tenantry, butGreville left us a picture of political blundering which isfar from flattering. Greville allows that he was a verygood debater, good-humoured, a "good fellow" and anexcellent friend, and readily admits that his colleaguesheld him in high regard, but adds that in his view he was"utterly incapable". He goes on: "He has, in fact, thatweight which a man can derive from being positive,obstinate, pertinacious, and busy, but his understandinglies in a nutshell, and his information in a pin's head." Inone of the most consummate portraits of character, at

which Greville is so singularly adept, he brings to lifethis amiable man in a few telling but impolite words: "Hehappens to have his wits, such as they are, about him ...is prejudiced, narrow-minded, illiterate, and ignorant,good-looking, good-humoured, unaffected, tedious,prolix, unassuming, and a Duke."132

The 6th Duke (1818-1903) was a personal favouritewith Queen Victoria, who created him Duke of Gordonin 1876 (only one other fresh dukedom has beencreated since that date, the dukedom of Fife). Thismeans that the present holder of the title has moredukedoms than any of his colleagues in that dignity. Heis a duke four times over, being Duke of Lennox, Dukeof Gordon, and Duke of Aubigny as well as Duke ofRichmond. Another distinction is the number of Knightsof the Garter there have been in the family; out of onlynine Dukes, the first seven were invested K.G.

The present Duke of Richmond, born in 1904, mightwith justice be called 'the reluctant Duke'. He was notmeant to inherit the titles, being the third son of the 8thDuke, but his eldest brother died in infancy, and thesecond brother, who was destined to be the heir, waskilled in Russia in 1919. So Frederick Gordon-Lennox

found himself prospective landlord of 280,000 acres,when in truth he would have been perfectly happy as agarage mechanic.

Both he and his brother were fascinated bymachines. It was the age when both the motor-car andthe aeroplane were young and dangerous. Theirgrandfather, the old 7th Duke, was very disapprov ingand thought them little short of revolutionary to showinterest in such unsuitable subjects. But "Freddie", oncoming down from Oxford, worked in a car factory, onthe shop floor, as plain "Mr Settrington". "It was thehappiest time of my life," he says.

"Freddie March" was famous in the early thirties as aracing-car driver. Probably no one person did more tofoster British amateur car-racing than he, whoconverted a wartime airfield at Goodwood into the onlypermanent racing-track in England. It was "permanent"until 1966, when the risks to spectators as speedsbecame greater forced him to abandon it.

The Duke was one of the first landed aristocrats toforesee the necessity of adapting to a more restrictedlife-style. The familiar story of successive death dutieschanged the prospects of Goodwood over a few years,

with the 7th Duke dying in 1928, and the 8th Dukesoon after in 1935. Gordon Castle in Scotland wassold, with thousands of acres, another Scottish estate of45,000 acres in Banffshire was sold to the Crown in1937; pictures, rare books, went under the hammer.All that was left was the estate at Goodwood, and eventhat had to be compressed after the war, when theDuke had to face the ultimate decision how to carry onliving at Goodwood in changed circum stances. Incommon with his reforming ancestors, he solved theproblem in a characteristically social-minded way. (Hesays, incidentally, that the social conscience of theRichmonds lay in abeyance for 100 years, and that hewas brought up strictly to think of "us and them".)

The Duke established various industries atGoodwood, to bring income to the estate andemployment to tenants. A thriving wood turnery,making anything from chair legs upwards, was startedwith one circular saw. Private companies were formed,of which Goodwood Estates Ltd is the chief, to run theindustries, the racecourse, and the house. The Dukeand his son, Lord March, are now both tenants of thiscompany, in which neither has a major shareholding.

One whole wing of Goodwood, containing thirtybedrooms, was converted into five well-appointed flats,and let to workers and staff at peppercorn rents; someother rooms were made into a working-man's club. TheDuke established a private pension scheme for alltenants at his own expense.

In 1950 "Glorious Goodwood", which Grevillethought combined everything that was enjoyable in life,was opened to the public (it had been open once aweek since 1912). In 1958 the Duke moved out ofGoodwood House to a small cottage on the estate,with six rooms, where he now lives with his wife and astaff of two old-age pensioners. His son, Lord March,lives in one wing of Goodwood House, and runs thefamily businesses, which continue to grow and diversify.It is a long journey from the coal tax, which gave thefirst Duke and his descendants an income from everyton of coal exported from the Tyne. This was sold tothe government in 1800 for £728,333, and was finallyabolished in 1831. There are, however, the Goodwoodraces (horses, not cars) which have been among themost celebrated since 1802. Goodwood has one of theonly two privately owned racecourses in the country,

the other being Ascot, which belongs to the Queen.The Duke of Richmond has managed, in a quiet and

unheralded way, to straddle the chasm between thearistocratic life to which he was born and the society ofmiddle-class and working-class people with whom hehas spent much of his life. He has worked in a factory,and has run a car business in London. In this he is notalone in the twentieth century, but he has been moresuccessful, because it is in his blood. He does not seethe difficulty, nor the incongruity, of entertaining theQueen and Prince Philip at Goodwood, and personallywaiting upon one's charwoman when she is ill. Hisgrandfather would have shuddered, and there are otherducal incumbents now who would shudder still.Richmond is an unpreten tious man, of easy manners,amiable, charming, good company, with a sense ofhumour sometimes at his own expense, and helpful.Hervey's remark on the 2nd Duke, his ancestor, couldbe applied with equal felicity to him. He has inheritednot only four dukedoms, but some thing more precious- the genes of a family of decent and benevolentpeople.

The Duke's mother, Dowager Duchess of

Richmond, died in 1971, aged ninety-nine years andsix months, probably another record. In 1928 theDuke married Miss Elizabeth Hudson, a vicar'sdaughter from Wendover, a choice which met withblank incomprehension from his grandfather, whosuspected they would have to live 'over the shop'.While they live in Game's Seat, the small cottage with abig view, their son and heir, Lord March, lives atGoodwood, where he has been more energetic thananyone else in his efforts to show the public whatwould be the effects of currently proposed legislationon beautiful country houses, and to convince them thathe and other landowners are there not because it isnice to live in a grand house while other people live inslums, but because he feels he is a guardian of part ofthe country's heritage. Duty, not choice, impels him toprotect Goodwood, in the knowledge that if hedoesn't, nobody else will.

REFERENCES

1 . John Evelyn, Diary, 4th February 1685.2. ibid, August 1649.3. Elizabeth D'Oyley, James Duke of Monmouth, p.

10; LordGeorge Scott, Lucy Walter, Wife or Mistress,pp. 27, 74.

4. D.N.B.5. D'Oyley, 27.6. D.N.B.7. Complete Peerage.8. Hartmann, Charles II and Madame, p. 73.9. D'Oyley, 33.10. D'Oyley, 266; Arthur Bryant, King Charles II,pp. 161, 283,

301-11 . Scott, 105—1.1; Baronne D'Aulnoy, Memoirsof the Court of

England in 1675, p. 379; Lord Mersey, APicture of Life 1872-1940, p.236.

12. Complete Peerage, I, App. E, p. 478.13. D'Oyley, 316.14. D'Oyley, 316-21, and Verney MSS.15. Reresby, Memoirs (1735), p. 10.16. Paul Bloomfield, Uncommon People, passim.17. Pepys Diary, ed. Wheatley, Vol. II, p. 69.18. Pepys, II, 239.

19. Arthur Bryant, Charles II, pp. 146-152.20. D.N.B.21. D.N.B.22. Pepys, VII, 50.23. Coxe MSS, quoted in Complete Peerage.24. Pepys, VII, 59.25. Complete Peerage26. Evelyn, 1st March 1671.27. H. Montgomery Hyde, History of Pornography,p. 76.28. Complete Peerage, III, 284 (c).29. Howell's State Trials (1816), Vol. XIV, pp.1327 et seq.30. Jeanine Delpech, Duchess of Portsmouth, p.194. 3.1. Notes and Queries, 6th Series, Vol. VIII, p.17632. Evelyn, ed. Bray (1850), II, 135.33. H. Noel Williams, Rival Sultanas, p. 169.34. ibid., 173.

35. ibid., 174.Delpech, 89.

36. ibid., 88, H. Forneron, Louise deKerouaille, pp. 115-17.

37. Granger's History (1779), Vol. Ill, p.211.

38. Peter Cunningham, The Story of NellGwynn, pp. 121, 202.

39. ibid., 152.

40. ibid., 135.

41. ibid., 206.

42. Genealogical Magazine, January 1901.43. Macky, Characters, (1704), p. 50.

44. Evelyn, 9th October 1671.

45. Osmund Airy, Charles II.

46. Forneron, 1118; Williams, 166.

47. Donald Adamson and Peter BeauclerkDewar, The House of

Nell Gwynn, p. 6.48. D.N.B.

49. Evelyn, 1 oth September 1675.

50. Delpech, 71-2.

51. Forneron, 277.

52. ibid., 280.

53. Williams, 148; Delpech, 175; D.N.B.

54. Delpech, 137.

55. Evelyn, II,,195, 199.

56. Delpech, 160; Collins Peerage, I, 206.

57. Hist. MSS. Comm., Frankland-Russell-Astley MSS, p. 58.

58. Mary Gladstone, Diaries and Letters,21st September 1865.

59. Complete Peerage.60. Walpole, XX, 137-8.

61. Roger Mortimer, The Jockey Club, p.24.

62. W. M. Thackeray, The Four Georges,p. 85.

63. T. Raikes, Journal.

64. The Life of William Wilberforce, p. 303, quotedin Complete

Peerage.65. Old and New London, IV, 286;Journal of Elizabeth Lady

Holland, II, 281; Burke, Romantic Records ofthe Aristoc racy, II, 42; Wraxall,Posthumous Memoirs, II, 175.

66. Old and New London, IV, 334.67. ibid., IV, 54.

68. Greville I, 298; V. 202.

69. Lord Ernest Hamilton, Forty YearsOn, p. 130.

70. Daily Telegraph, 5th October 1973.

71. Chips Channon, Diaries, ed. RobertRhodes James, p. 428.

72. Frances, Countess of Warwick,Afterthoughts, p. 49.

73. Daily Express, 2oth October 1971.74. Complete Peerage.75. Waldegrave, Memoirs, p. 114.76. Walpole, XXI, 78-9.77. Correspondence between Frances, Countess ofHertford and

the Countess of Pomfret (1805), Vol. II, pp.98-101.

78. Walpole, XVIII, 273.79. ibid., XVII, 174.80. Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, Works (1822),Vol. I, p. 252.81. The Orrery Papers, ed. Countess of Cork andOrrery (1903),

Vol. II, p. 294.82. Chatsworth Collections, 228.9 (23rdNovember 1736).83. ibid., 228.2 (18th September 1735).84. ibid., 228.14.85. Walpole, XVIII, 255.86. Massey, History of England, I, 189.87. The Spectator, 12th November 1898.88. Letters of Junius (1797), Vol. I, pp. 77-9.

89. Wraxall, Historical Memoirs, p. 273.90. Town and Country (1769), Vol. I, p. 114.91. Walpole, Memoirs of the Reign of George III,Vol. IV, p. 47.92. Public Record Office, DPP 1,95/4, 95/5.93. Complete Peerage.94. Walpole, XXI, 172.95. Adamson and Dewar, The House of NellGwynn, p. 49.96. ibid., 54.97. Sir Percy Croft, The Abbey of Kilkhampton,quoted in Com

plete Peerage.98. Lady Harriet Cavendish, Letters, p. 36.99. Adamson and Dewar, op. cit., pp. 97-9.100. The Times, 8th August 1837.101. Old and New London, IV, 280.102. Mrs Barron-Wilson, Memoirs of Miss Mellon(1886), Vol. II,

p. 171.103. Creevey Papers, II, 120.104. Creevy, Life and Times, p. 266.105. Broughton, Recollections of a Long Life, Vol.

Ill, p. 203.106. Lockhart, Life of Sir Walter Scott, Vol. VIII,p. 116.107. Adamson and Dewar, op. cit., p. 135.108. Lady Holland to Her Son, p. 65. 11 o. ibid., p.71.in. Barron-Wilson, op. cit., p. 175.

112. Old and New London, V, 398.113. Lady Holland to Her Son, 11b.

hi4.. Adamson and Dewar, op. cit., 144.

115. Barron-Wilson, op. cit., 184.

116. Creevey Papers, 11,217.

117. The Times, 8th August 1837.

118. Old and New London, IV, 281.119. Adamson and Dewar, op.cit., 189.

120. ibid., .190.

121. Hervey, Memoirs, 1,252.

122. Walpole, XVII, 184.

123. Lord Hervey and His Friends, p. 100.124. Earl of March, A Duke and His Friends (1911);Lord

Hervey and His Friends, p. 137.125. Walpole, George III, I, 20; Wraxall,Hist. Mem., 371.

126. Hist. MSS. Comm., AbergavennyMSS, p. 31.

127. Correspondence of Charles James Fox, Vol.I, p. 455.128. Alison Olson, The Radical Duke.

129. Walpole, XXIX, 54.

130. Private Letters of Sir Robert Peel, p. 34.131. Mrs Trench, Remains, p. 406.

Greville, I, 284; II, 399.j.

3 The Maverick Duke of Bedford

John Russell, 13th Duke of Bedford, known tofamily and friends as Ian, is undoubtedly themaverick among dukes of the realm. Withoutapology and with entire success, he has exploitedhis title for the sake of his home, and has beenseen to do so with unabashed relish. Bedford isnow a world-famous showman who enjoys thekind of popularity usually accorded only to filmstars. He has, indeed, appeared in several films,made countless television appearances, and payshis dues to Equity, the actors' union. Visitors toWoburn Abbey, his magnificent seat inBedfordshire (pronounced "Wooburn", by theway), would receive the Duke's autographwhether they asked for it or not, and often wereallowed, not to say encouraged, to shake theducal hand. Such relentless exhibitionism hasmade Bedford the best known of the dukes,

allowed him to live comfortably at Woburn, andrescued him from the parallel scourges of a coldmanner and an obsessive shyness which arecharacteristic of his family.Lord William Russell, brother to the 7th Duke

and to Lord John Russell, the Prime Minister, wrotethese words in his diary: "I think if all the hearts of allthe Russells were put together, they would not yetmake one good heart. Good God, how the Dukefreezes one. I envy him not his possessions, and wouldnot accept them, were I obliged to take his characterwith them."1 And that was his own brother. The otherbrother, Lord John, suffered from the same freezingmanner. Often ungracious, and sometimes offensive, hewas involved in squabbles which were provoked bythe Russell inability to make friends, and their tendencyto sulk when thwarted. Queen Victoria developed apowerful aversion to him, and Greville wrote: "He isnot conciliatory, and he sometimes gives grievousoffence . . . he is miserably wanting in amenity, and inthe small arts of acquiring popularity."2 The same couldnot be said of the present Duke, who must have had to

hold his ground against a tidal wave of inheritedreticence and coldness surging within him to achievethe popularity that he now enjoys. His father, Hastingsthe 12th Duke, was the only son of the nth Duke andhis duchess, yet he was never invited, as a child, to joinhis parents for breakfast. He would appear in thedining-room where they breakfasted in silence (theDuke hardly uttered a word all his life, and the Duchesswas stone-deaf so would not have heard him if hehad), and would stand in the corner, until his fatherdismissed him with the words, "Tavistock, you mayleave now." (The eldest son of the Duke of Bedfordcarries the title by courtesy of Marquess of Tavistock.)This same Duke was visited by his grandson, thepresent Duke, when his wife died in 1937. It was anattempt by the boy to show com passionate affectionfor the old man in his bereavement. But he was notexpected; no appointment had been made, and the"audience" was suitably brief — five minutes. The boywas not invited to stay for lunch, so he returned bytrain to London.3 Generations of Russells have clumsilyrepelled affectionate approaches, not only from outsidethe family, but from each other. There never was a

more unhappy succession of hostilities between fathersand sons. The present Duke had all filial attachmentsevered by a monstrously impersonal child hood; hegrew intensely to dislike his father, who in his turnheartily despised Ian. For years there was no contactbetween them at all, the 12th Duke preferring topretend that his lamentable son did not exist. The 12thDuke, Hastings, did not speak to his father Her- brand,the nth Duke, for more than twenty years; Herbrandpro fessed to be disgusted by his son's militantpacifism, which he thought was a disgrace to the family,but the real reason for their estrangement was thecongenital Russell coldness. Hastings had beennaturally fond of his father in infancy, but this incipientaffection was atrophied by the touch of ice, and itruined his whole life.

The 9th Duke, also called Hastings, sonof the Lord William Russell whosereflections above on Russell coldnessintroduced the topic, shows in his heart-rending letters an eager love for his fatherand a desperate adolescent desire toplease him. As Mrs Blakiston has noted,"the battering his affectionate naturereceived from both his parents wrings the

heart".4 He grew into such a stiff, formal,loveless old man that he ended his life amorose and sullen hypo chondriac. (Heand his duchess were commonly called"The Ice bergs".) The Duke graduallywithdrew into dark misanthropy,un willing to believe anything good ofanyone; his only pleasure lay incongratulating himself that he had seenthrough the evils of man kind whileeveryone else remained unenlightened - aprophet of doom, in other words. Disraelitold Queen Victoria that Bedford was "astrange character. He enjoys his powerand prosperity, and yet seems to hold alower opinion of human nature than anyman ... a joyous cynic."5 Hardly joyous; heended by killing himself.

No less strange was his predecessor, the 8th Duke(cousin to the 9th and son of the 7th), whom LordGrey found "the most impene trable person I ever metwith. More silent even than a Russell, it is impossible toget a word out of him."6 He was then twenty-five yearsold. The poor young man sank deeper and deeper intohis pro tective silence until he became a total recluse.

For years, nobody so much as caught a glimpse of him,as the rare excursions he made from his London housewere inside a completely dark carriage with theshutters down so that no light could penetrate.7 "Letme live always among the chimney-pots," he used tosay.8Cold, abnormally shy and diffident, with a tendency to

hypochon dria and a deeply suspicious nature, theRussells have not been the easiest family to know.They have not been able to see others except asthreats to their trembling personalities, as underminersof their cherished opinions, or as a danger to theirprecious health. This has made them obstinate indebate to the point of pig-headedness. The 7 th Duke,in yet another example of endemic fraternal disloyalty,told Greville that his brother Lord John Russell was"very obstinate and unmanageable, and does not like tobe found fault with or told things which run counter tohis own ideas".9 These precise words would fittinglydescribe Herbrand, nth Duke; William Lord Russell("the patriot"), whose obstinacy led to his execution;the 9th Duke, who thought himself unloved; the 8th

who was terrified of meeting people; the 5th, of whomSydney Smith said, "a peculiarity of the Russells is thatthey never alter their opinions".10 Even the presentDuke, whose stubbornness allowed him to retainWoburn as his home against all the advice of histrustees (who would have given it to the NationalTrust), may be said to inherit the Russell persistence.But the distillation of a dozen generations of Russellswas achieved in that fascinating character the 12thDuke (1888-1953), father to the now Duke ofBedford, who was, like his son, the maverick of histime, though in an entirely different fashion.Hastings Russell made an inauspicious entry into the

world. His mother and father were walking across thewindy Scottish moors when Lady Herbrand Russell (asshe then was, her husband succeed ing his brother asDuke much later) suddenly realised that her baby wasabout to be born. There was no time to reach home.The couple made for a derelict shepherd's cottagewhere, with no assistance save for the inexpertattention of two farmhands, the future Duke was bornon a rough bed of heather.11 His mother neverrecovered from the experience, remaining resolute in

her refusal to have more children. She resented thetrouble that he had given her, and was a neglectful"busy" mother whose energies were channelled into hercherished hospital work and, later, her flying, leavingnone for the lonely son who stood in the corner atbreakfast, waiting to be dis missed. He did not seeanother child until he was packed off to Eton at the ageof thirteen. Inevitably, Hastings developed an odd,unorthodox personality. With all the disadvantages ofthe withdrawn Russell temperament in his blood, andthe bonus of a deaf mother who did not pay him anyattention and did not hear his plaintive questions, therewas little chance of his being normal and healthy.

All his life, Hastings was consumedwith self-loathing. Having been told as achild that he was a bother and a nuisance,he quickly assented, and spent the rest ofhis life considering that he was of littleworth. Morbidly sensitive, and easily hurt,his instinct was to deflect attention awayfrom himself, his personality, his intimateconcerns, and direct it on to some otherobject. Hence his absorption in committeework, his active support of all manner ofsocieties and associations for theunderprivileged, the neglected, the

minorities such as the DischargedPrisoners' Aid Society. His blinddedication to causes carried theimplication that they were all more worthyof attention than he. His whole life was anexercise in self-effacement and self-abasement. As a conscientious objector,he would take no part in military tasksduring the war, preferring to indulge hismaso chistic delight in menial work. He feltkeenly his responsibility to do somethingfor the war effort, and was happiestscrubbing floors or washing up inY.M.C.A. canteens, which he didanonymously.12 Secretly, he thought thatwas all he deserved.

Such deep, dark sourness and self-deprecation as this led very easily to anintensely religious turn of mind. He did notgo to church, and went so far as towithdraw the Bedford obligations tofinance the church at Woburn (a scandalsince redressed by his son), but heembraced unorthodox sects whichpreached the very values his life mostconspicuously lacked — friendliness,brotherhood, trust — and of course thesupreme virtue of self-sacrifice. He was an

active Quaker for more than twenty years.

The first indication that "Spinach", togive him his nickname, was destined to berebellious was his pacifist activities inWorld War I, an example of quixoticthinking which exasperated histraditionalist and orthodox father, and ledto a complete severance of relationsbetween them. Duke Herbrand consideredthat "Spinach" had brought shame to theBedford name, and never forgave him. Hedeigned to have contact with him once,when the time came, some twenty-fiveyears later, for the old Duke and his son toconspire together to deprive the grandson,Ian, whom neither of them liked, of hisinheritance.13 The filial distrust of theRussells can be broken only by a yetstronger filial distrust.

"Spinach" held that the participation of Christianpeople in war was immoral. But the real motive for hispacifism sprang from a Russell trait which he inheritedand of which his life was the supreme expression, aprofound distrust of human nature. He thought thatpeople, left to their own devices, were more bad thangood, and that it was in the natural order of things that

they should treat each other badly, and eventually makewar upon each other. This feeling, for it was that ratherthan a belief - it ran in the blood - was not much morethan an extension of his feeling that he himself wasessentially "bad" unless spiritually guided. With such anunderlying misanthropy, it is no wonder that hedistrusted everyone with whom he came into contact.Like all his predecessors, he was always on the alertfor someone to put him down, trick him, or betray hisweakness. He was intensely suspicious. Those whoknew him reasonably well affirm that he was thesaddest man they ever met.

The Duke was often accused, by his son amongothers, of being opinionated. Like Lord John Russell,he could not listen to any view that did not agree withhis own. But this was his only protection against thehumiliation which he always feared was imminent andcrushing. He would make speeches in the House ofLords setting forth a usually outrageous point of view,guaranteed at least to be against the majority, and thenwould leave the chamber without lis tening for anyriposte from his fellow peers; timidity drove him out,not rudeness. The Lords were generally so offended by

the Duke's views that they passed resolutions that "theDuke of Bedford be no longer heard", which had littleeffect, as he had already left by then. On one occasionthere were cries of "Lock him up" in the Commonswhen his name was mentioned.14 He would have likednothing better, of course. He was continuallydisappointed in his desire for martyr dom.

He was labelled a Fascist and a Communist, neitherof which was accurate, and there is a dim memory ofhim now as an eccentric who had to be kept quiet andout of trouble. Yet the views which the 12th Dukeexpressed were eccentric only because they were notheld by the majority. There was little in them that wastruly revo lutionary. He brushed the sleeve of socialism,but never seized its hand. He was sincere and honest ata time when hypocrites abounded. He raised the matter(in the Lords), for example, of con scientious objectorsand their unjustified persecution, with particularreference to an ex-miner who had been sent to amilitary hospital although he was perfectly sane. "Aslong as this persecution is allowed to continue it isnonsense for the Prime Minister to say that victimisationand man-hunting are odious to the British people. It is

all too obvious that they are extremely agreeable to asection of the British people, including members of thetribunals and members of Parliament."16 Such viewsseemed grossly unpatriotic, even treacher ous, whenthe country was staggering from four and a half years ofwar, but they were not the less sensible for that. Mostpeople accept the evils of war with a shrug; Bedfordwould not accept them. Some times he was led by hisfrustration into sheer folly. He maintained that Hitlerwould behave himself if we were to treat him withfriendliness. The Lord Chancellor said that he was mad,and that he had "a capacity to swallow any yarn whichsupported his jaundiced views".18 But the Duke ofWestminster thought that he was the bravest man inEngland to stand up and express views which he knewexcited the hostility of everyone in the Chamber.17

The Duke would have agreed with his ancestor LordWilliam Russell, who in 1839 wrote: "I sometimes seemuch weakness and hypocrisy in those who arehonoured, and such firmness and good ness in thosewho are reviled, that I lose all respect for humanjudgement."18 Hastings was reviled, and he certainly

had no respect for human judgement. He knew that hewas considered a heretic and a crank, but took comfortin the knowledge that he was right and everyone elsewas wrong. It is a comfort which has sustained theRussells for centuries, making political leaders of some,and martyrs of others.

His deep suspicion of human motives and his fearthat everyone was intent upon his humiliation ultimatelyled Duke Hastings into the very humiliation which hewanted most to avoid. Obstinacy, stubbornness, vanityand self-righteousness were to blame for hisdis tasteful court case in 1 9 3 5 , when his estrangedwife petitioned him for restitution of conjugal rights. Sheclaimed that he had deserted her. He admitted that hehad left her, but maintained that he was justified inrefusing to cohabit with her, as she had displayed an"intimate and clandestine affection" for the children'stutor, Mr Cecil Squire. (There were three children.) Itwas typical of Hastings that he accused his wife not ofadultery, but, in effect, of being dis loyal and unkind tohim. He and his wife, who were Marquess andMarchioness of Tavistock at this time, had lived in thesame house with Mr Squire for some years. Their

eldest son, Ian, was now a teenager. Squire had beenan old acquaintance of the Marquess, and it was hewho had introduced him into the family home. At first,they lived together quite well, but then Squire'sinfluence over Lady Tavistock began to irk LordTavistock, and aroused his jealousy. Lady Tavistockwas converted by Squire to Anglo-Catholicism, indirect opposition to her husband's wishes. Strugglinghard to be reasonable, he accepted this as anexpression of justifiable religious independence. ThenSquire objected to some of Tavistock's weird friends(and he was surrounded by the most unscrupuloussycophants who exploited his shortcomings andflattered his misanthropy by loudly asserting that he wasright and wise to distrust human duplicity; they told himwhat he most wanted to hear). Squire had gone so faras to refuse entry to the house to some of theseobjection able people, who had been invited byTavistock himself. Tavistock never smoked or drank,and would not allow tobacco or alcohol into the house;Squire introduced them both, further irritating the long-suffering Marquess.

Poor Hastings was certainly difficult to handle. His

colossal sense of Christian duty, his piety and self-pity,were like the rock of Sisyphus to his family. His wifewas not allowed pretty clothes because they were"worldly". To have a meal with him was an ordeal: ashe would not allow smoke or drink, could not indulge insmall talk, had no sense of humour, the hours draggedby in long silences interrupted by pious utterances. It islittle wonder that Mr Squire took pity on the deprivedMarchioness and strove to usher some more humanlightness and cheerfulness into the house. But it is alsono surprise that the deeply vulnerable Hastings shouldbecome more and more tetchy as his once adoring wifewas taken from him to obey the counsel of another. Hefelt hurt and betrayed. Life between them becameimpossible. He received anonymous letters suggestingthat his wife was having an affair with Squire, and thathe was being made a fool of. He said in court that sherefused him intercourse. Eventu ally, he left her.

Letters from Lord Tavistock to his wife and toSquire were read out in court. He conquered hisjealousy when writing to Squire, and forced himself tobe rational and calm. He enjoyed self-sacrifice. But hisletter to his wife was less well controlled; he was

obviously very hurt, lonely, and abandoned. It is apathetic letter, crying out for gentleness. In court, LadyTavistock refused to cease her friendship with Squire, acondition for the return of her husband, and her petitionwas dismissed. Hastings had won, but at what cost tohis emotions. He was thereafter embittered anddisillusioned. The black despair which ran through allhis public speeches and led ultimately to his death wasfuelled by this public betrayal, itself made inevitable byhis quirky personality. The hearing had taken sixdays.19

Much later, his son wrote to him: "Underneath yourChristian cloak lies a small, narrow, mean mind,incapable of forgiveness, generosity or feeling."20 Thisis itself an ungenerous assessment. Poor "Spinach" wasa tortured introspective misfit. His grandson, thepresent Lord Tavistock, has fond memories of hisimpulsive, impres sive generosity towards children.

The Russells' desire to protect themselves fromenemies, usually near rather than far, has engendered afamily propensity towards hypochondria. When troublebrews, the first remedy of a Russell is to fall ill. The 7thDuke (1788-1861) was doing it all the time. His

brother wrote in 1823 : ". . . as for Tavistock it isshocking to see him, he is a perfect skeleton, I neversaw a man so altered in my life," and then adds,significantly, "Yeats thinks it is disordered functions -nothing organic."21 Nowadays, we might make thesame diagnosis with a different word - psychosomatic.

His son, the 8th Duke (1809-1872), was such ahypochondriac that he cloistered himself away from theworld, refusing all contact, and hardly ever went out ofthe house. It has already been noted that the last yearsof his life were so heavily protected that no one sawhim. His cousin, Hastings 9th Duke of Bedford (1819-1891), actually shot himself in a fit of depression over about of pneumonia; the inquest recorded a verdict thathe killed himself while "temporarily insane".22

His namesake, Hastings 12th Duke of Bedford, onceagain repre sents the extreme point to which thisobsession with disease may lead. Woburn Abbey waspermanently sprayed with a germ-killer during hisdukedom, so that it smelled antiseptic. His fear ofcontamination by germs had some risible results. Hechanged his underclothes three times a day, and carrieda huge bottle of T.C.P. tablets in his pocket; whenever

anyone coughed or sneezed he immediately sucked alozenge.23 His mother, Mary Duchess of Bedford, wasso fascinated by disease that she became nurse andsurgeon, and founded a hospital at Woburn, where shespent most of her waking hours. She would eagerlytake visitors to see her latest "case".

So withdrawn have the Russells been fromaffectionate human contact that they have tended tolook to animals for a more trust worthy response.Animals do not let you down, they do not betray or useyou, they are not responsible for the evil whichpervades the world, they will not tell you your faults orfind you wanting; in short, they are safer. DukeHastings was constantly writing letters to news paperson such abstruse subjects as the house fly, thecaterpillar, moles, or pigeons; he collected spiders; hewas said to recognise by sight every one of the 300deer at Woburn with whom he communed on longsolitary walks, and he formed close ties with the goldencarp whom he amused regularly.24 When disgustedwith human treachery, or what he saw as blind humanadhesion to mistaken concepts, Hastings would repairto his animals; he would trust any creature more readily

than he would a man. Nor was this a mere dilettanteinterest; he was an accomplished writer in the fields ofanimal and insect welfare. His father, Duke Herbrand,loved and cherished his herd of rare deer at Woburn,and was President of the Royal Zoo logical Society.Meetings of the Society were the only events whichwould tempt him to leave Woburn, where he, too, livedsecluded and remote from the hustle and danger ofhuman contact. The present Duke has made Woburninto one of the country's most famous safari parks, inwhich he shows an interest which cannot be merelycommercial. He, too, is a Russell.

After the war, Hastings the 12th Duke withdrewmore and more from the public eye, whose gaze henever enjoyed anyway, and betook himself to his lonelyretreat at Endsleigh, the family property in Devon.There he communed with his animals and insects, andoccasionally went for an early-morning shoot."Spinach" had been fond from childhood of shooting, ashad all his ancestors, and the paradox of killingcreatures whom he professed to love did not appear totrouble him. He was an expert shot. One autumnmorning in 1953 he went for his usual shoot and did not

return. The next day he was found dead, lying in thickundergrowth with a 12-bore shotgun across his chest.The safety-catch was in the firing position, and the rightbarrel had been fired. At the inquest, the familysolicitor, Connolly Gage, suggested that the Duke musthave been sitting cross-legged waiting for something,have pulled the gun towards him, caught the trigger onsome branches and been unable to prevent its firing.This hypothesis was heard, and a verdict of acci dentaldeath was returned. It is, to say the very least,improbable, and few people would now accept it.

The Duke was known to be depressed. The fewfriends in whom he had placed his trust, against thevociferous advice of everyone else, were revealed tobe unworthy. His life had been a succession ofdisillusionments, as the fundamental duplicity of humankind impressed itself upon his sensitive soul. Hismarriage had been a disaster, his son a disappointment.In true Russell style, he had severed all connection withthis son, save for the occasional distant letter. Even hisreligion ceased to be a solace. He was not the sort ofman to shoot himself by accident, even supposing hecould have done so in a sitting position. Suicide must

remain the most logical and likely verdict.Had he lived another eleven weeks, the seven-year

term necessary to prevent prohibitive death dutiesdevolving upon his unfortunate son would have expired.He cannot have been ignorant of this important fact,though his son thinks he simply miscalculated and gothis dates wrong; he killed himself thinking that allarrangements were in order. He was vague about suchmatters anyway. On the other hand, I have heard it saidin other ducal families that he left a note indicating spiteas his motive.

The 12th Duke of Bedford was the last in the familyto meet with a violent end, although the family history isnot wanting in prece dents. His daughter-in-law, theMarchioness of Tavistock (first wife of the presentDuke before he succeeded to the dukedom), died asthe result of an overdose of sodium amatol tablets, self-administered, in 1945. Her husband testified that shehad not slept properly for ten days. An open verdictwas recorded.25

The 12th Duke's mother, Mary Duchess of Bedford,also died in mysterious circumstances. She was anunconventional duchess, dis carding the family jewels

early in her married life to plunge into a life of activenursing. She established, staffed and ran a cottagehospital at Woburn, and turned it into a war hospital in1914, with the grudging financial support of her strangeand brooding husband. She became a skilledradiologist and sometimes surgeon as well as nurse,noting with satisfaction in her diary: "I here place onrecord that I today amputated a toe and excised apainful scar in the sole of the foot for Leslie Coop, ofHandsworth, Birmingham."28 The present Duchess isquoted on the subject of her pioneering predeces sor -"Anyone 'ave a leetle pain, she open 'im up and 'ave aleetle look. Very medical."27

The Duchess suffered from the most appallingbuzzing in the ears which rendered her almost totallydeaf. She attributed this affliction to a youthful attack oftyphoid fever in India. Whatever the cause, herdeafness accounted for her loud, clear andcommanding voice, which made her lonely son trembleso, and for her apparent indif ference to his existence;what he thought was remoteness derived simply fromher inability to hear him when he spoke to her. It wasnot until her husband told their son that he never

wanted to see him again that she showed him howmuch she loved him by bursting into tears; he wasshocked and dismayed, having thought such emotionutterly foreign to her.28

One day, the Duchess discovered that high altitudesin aeroplanes brought relief to the buzzing pain in herhead which she described as "like railway trains rushingthrough stations";29 that was the beginning of a newpassion which was to make her famous through out theland. Already in her sixties, the Duchess of Bedfordbecame, of all things, a pilot. Duke Herbrand did notapprove; this was worse, if possible, than cuttingpeople up in hospital. But he acquiesced under protest,reserving the right to cut out every account of an airdisaster from his newspaper, which he would placesilently on her desk. His gentle remonstrance was noteffective, however, and she flung herself with joy intoher new pursuit. She built runways at Woburn, she flewwith a co-pilot to South Africa and back, heradventures were avidly collected by the newspapers.She was some thing of a folk-heroine. She belonged tothe British public, while her isolated son grew furtherand further away.

In 1937 Duke Herbrand told her that he could nolonger afford to finance the hospital which was so dearto her heart. (He could, of course, have afforded ahundred hospitals, with wealth which would nowappear fabulous.) The news depressed her terribly. It isnot known what conversations passed between them,but she was seen to be unhappy for days afterwards.She was seventy-one years old, and still deaf. Her onlyson was a stranger to her, and an enemy to his father.When she took off in her de Havilland Gipsy from thehangar at Woburn on 22nd March she waved goodbyeto her flight lieutenant and to her rigger, a gesture shehad never before made, and which was not customaryamong flyers. She was not seen again.

The Duchess was no amateur pilot. She hadexperience of flying in all kinds of weathers, and hadcompleted almost 200 hours of solo flying. There wasno reason why an accident should occur. There hadbeen an occasion three years earlier when she and herflight lieutenant had come close to death in Morocco.She afterwards recorded in her diary: "I am persuadedthat, when faced with apparently certain death in thisway, one does not experience the terror which those

who do not live to tell are supposed to feel ... I thoughtit quite an agreeable way of finishing up compared withmost ends which are the lot of man, and certainly theone I had most desired; for, with not a boat in sight anda very rough sea, the process could not have lastedlong."50

The Duchess's suicide is by no means unlikely. Fourdays later parts of the aircraft were washed up, but herbody was never found. A Captain Riley sighted thedecomposed remains of an airwoman floating in the seaeleven miles off Gromer on 28th June; this was morethan three months after her disappearance. He thoughtshe was dressed in khaki flying kit, but since the familysaid she was not wearing khaki that day, it wasconcluded that the body could not have been that of theDuchess.31

The country mourned a colourful extravagantcharacter. She must have been one of the first womento motor alone along the roads of Bedfordshire, anoutrageous display of non-comformity in the early partof this century, and she was quite capable of carryingout her own repairs to motor-car or aircraft. Herstarchy husband, whose feet were still held fast in the

nineteenth century, pretended not to notice his wife'santics. She was adventurous and courageous, andpossessed the blissful resources of a sense of humour,so helpful in her dealings with the dour family into whichshe had married. Here is her quiet diary entry for 8thAugust 1929, when she and her co-pilot were offeredsome unappetising food in a dingy dismal room inAleppo. "He broke open a roll and I saw him lookingvery closely at his plate, and to my horror discoveredthat all the rolls were swarming with black ants inside.However, though I cannot say I felt 'none the worse',the black ants did not actively disagree with ourdigestion, and I only suffered mentally."32

We have already seen that the 9th Duke of Bedford(1819-1891) took his own life in a fit of depressionarising from ill-health. Briefly to trace his progress fromenthusiastic childhood to miserable old age is to seehow each Russell generation smothers and stifles thebright ness and gaiety of the one that follows. The 9thDuke was born Hastings Russell, first son of Lord andLady William Russell. He was called Hastings after theMarquess of Hastings, a relation on his mother's side.(He must not be confused with the other Hastings in the

family, the pacifist and enigmatic 12th Duke, aboutwhom we have already said much.) His grandfatherwas the 6th Duke, his uncle became the 7th Duke, andhis cousin was the 8th.

Young Hastings was something of a prodigy -intelligent, enter taining, as bright as a button. When hewas seven years old, Lady Holland wrote: "As toHastings he is without exception the most pleasing,promising child I ever saw, full of sense beside hisacquire ments, with all his father's courage, manlinessand gentleness; not in the least spoiled, well-behavedand tractable." His father wrote proudly of him, "LordHolland will not be able to say (as he does of theRussells) that he is like an otter, or that he neverspeaks, for he is handsome and jabbers like a magpie -he has all the quickness & esprit of his mother, & isquite a little prodigy ... he is master of little Lieven &thumps him till he cries." His mother was no less lyricalin describing the charms of her first-born: "he speaksFrench like d'Alembert & English like Johnson - neitherlisps, stammers, nor mispronounces, is quick, gay,passionate, good-hearted, gentle, ingeni ous, ruddy,bright-eyed, blue-eyed - fat, strong & healthy ... if Lord

Chesterfield had had such a son he need not havewritten his book."

Hastings grew up on the continent, withhis mother and two brothers, to whom hewas very close, and where he was verypopular. He became in his adolescence anunusually good shot. He was liked andadmired. What, then, went wrong? Hisparents grew apart from each other andquarrelled frequently by letter. All theirown failings were heaped on to the youngman's shoulders in their arguments —each parent saw him as living proof of theshortcomings of the other. His mother,Lady William, wrote to her brother-in-lawLord John, when Hastings was twenty-seven years old: "You must repress hisexcessive arrogance . . . He has erroneousnotions of being heir apparent and isoverbearing to a degree quite painful . . .He is quite altered, exceedingly insolent . .. compromised both by ill-temper andcovetousness." The young man receivedletters in this vein from his mother, whichquite dismayed and bewildered him. Hewrote to his father: "I want encouragement& not rebuffs. Without a little vanity [self-esteem] nothing would be done in thisworld and to be constantly told by one's

own Mother that one is an Idiot, a coward& liar is very disheartening."33 Onehundred years later, Mary Duchess ofBedford was writing of her pacifist son,the other Hastings : "I never thought Ishould be the mother of a coward."34

Discouraged and rejected by his mother,whom he adored, Has tings's naturallyaffectionate and bubbling personalitywithered and withdrew. He was no longertalkative in adulthood, butuncomfort ably shy and retiring. Hesettled into the Russell mould of anobstinate, self-protecting recluse,obsessed by health. On 14th January 1891he shot himself through the heart in anaccess of bad temper, delirium or insanity(no one is sure which) in his house at 81Eaton Square; he was suffering frompneumonia at the time. Hastings hadmarried Lady Elizabeth Sackville-West,daughter of Lord de la Warr, and wasfather of both the 10th and .11 th Dukes ofBedford, and grandfather of Hastings 12thDuke. One of his daughters, Lady ElaRussell, who died in 1936, was apt to talkto herself. Guests who overstayed their

welcome at her house would hear herexclaim, in a loud whisper, "I wish they'dgo! I wish they'd go!"35

Two members of the family have been murdered,one judicially and the other for money, and both werecalled William Russell. Lord William Russell (1767-1840) will have to be called "old" Lord William toavoid confusion with the other Lord William who wasfather to Hastings the 9th Duke. He was a son of the4th Duke, and both the 5th and 6th Dukes were hisbrothers. "Old" Lord William was murdered by hisSwiss valet, Francois Courvoisier, on 5th May 1840.The murder caused a commotion among thearistocracy. Greville wrote : "The extraordinary murderof Lord Wm. Russell . . . has excited a prodigiousinterest, and frightened all London out of its wits . . .half the world go to sleep expecting to have theirthroats cut before morning."38 Greville doubted that theevidence was con clusive, but Courvoisier was foundguilty on 20th June and two days later confessed to thecrime. At his execution on 6th July there was a crowdof over 20,000 people.

On 21 st July 1683 there took place the publicexecution at Lincoln's Inn Fields of William, LordRussell, son of the 5th Earl of Bedford. His name wasWilliam Russell, but being the son of an earl and not ofa duke (the dukedom was not created until later), hehad no right to the appellation "Lord William". He did,however, inherit the courtesy title of "Lord Russell" onthe death of his brother Francis (yet anotherhypochondriac) in 1678. Hence he is known to historyas "William, Lord Russell" and must not be mistaken forthe two "Lord William Russells" that we have so farconsidered. William, Lord Russell, was one of the mostillustrious members of the family. He lived at a timewhen the Russells were closely involved in the politicaldestiny of the country, and had been so for 150 years.He is commonly known to posterity as "the patriot", yetit was for high treason that he was executed.

William was a nonconformist in the Russell tradition.A fervent Protestant, he feared most that the King,Charles II, would fall under the influence of the"papists"; the King's brother and heir, the Duke ofYork, was openly suspected of being a RomanCatholic, which, to a Russell, meant that he had just

stepped up from Hell. Something of a Puritan, Russellwas also disgusted with the dissoluteness andextravagance of the Court. He proposed in the Houseof Commons that there should be a committee toconsider "the sad and deplorable condition we are in,and the apprehensions we are under of popery and astanding army". He later proposed that the Houseshould pass legislation to prevent a popish successor,and was the loudest supporter of the Exclusion Bill,which sought to disable the Duke of York frominheriting the crown. Lord Russell and the Duke ofYork were hence forth locked in a bitter fight, whichhad perforce to end with the downfall of one of them.

Lord Russell was supported by hisintelligent and beautiful wife Rachel, oneof the most engaging and important of theRussell wives, and as anti-papist as herhusband. It was one of the few Russellmarriages which worked. She had beenborn Rachel Wriothesley, daughter of the4th Earl of Southampton, and thereforegrand daughter of the Earl ofSouthampton who was Shakespeare'spatron. (It is interesting to reflect that thepresent Duke of Bedford is des cended inpart from the friend to whom Shakespeare

addressed most of his sonnets.) Racheland her sisters were co-heirs to theSouth ampton estates, and Rachelreceived as her portion the lucrativeBloomsbury property which she hadbrought into the Bedford family. It is oftensaid that all Bedfords are ruled by theirwives, and this wife was certainly thedriving-force behind William, who hadintegrity rather than initiative.

William and Rachel Russell heldpolitical meetings at Southampton Housein London (later called Bedford House andnow demolished) at which the early Whigsdevised their strategy. The Russellsearned a reputation for political extremism,which prejudiced the public against themwhen the time came for William's integrityto be tested.

Some of his political allies wereresponsible for a plan to assassinate theKing and his brother the Duke of York asthey drove past the Rye House on theirway from Newmarket to Westminster. Thisbecame known as the "Rye House Plot",and the name of William, Lord Russell, wasimplicated by an informer. As a result, he

was arrested (on 26th June 1683) and sentto the Tower pending his trial for hightreason, although according to Macaulaythe plot had been carefully kept from him.The trial took place on 13th July at the OldBailey. That same morning one of Russell'smost intimate friends and a political ally,the Earl of Essex, was found dead in theTower. The suspicion of suicide didnothing to help the tense, sus- spensefulatmosphere in court, at what has sincebecome one of the most famous trials everto be held at the Old Bailey. There werenine judges, and amongst the counsel forthe Crown was the up-and- coming,notorious Jeffries.

Russell pleaded "not guilty", maintained that he hadnot been present at the meeting which hatched the RyeHouse Plot, and stood firm on the principle that itshould sometimes be permissible to resist a sovereignfor the greater good of the people. Wiffen describes thescene in the florid prose fashionable among historians ofthe nine teenth century:

"With a serenity that excited the highest admiration,Lord Russell appeared at the bar of the Old Bailey.

Every hardship that could be inflicted by angry andvindictive enemies, the steady patriot was doomedthat day to bear. Even before he opened his lips inhis defence, he was treated by Sawyer, the attorney-general, like a guilty felon. His request for the delayof a few hours, till his witnesses might arrive in town,though twice pleaded for by the chief justice, with ashew of compassion, was absolutely negatived. Hisright to the challenge of such jurors as possessed nofreehold, was questioned, was impugned, was over-ruled. The death of his friend, Lord Essex . . . wastortured into an incontestable proof of guilt, andmade ... to press upon him with its extraneous andcumulative weight. He at length requested pens andan amanuensis. To prevent his having the aid ofcounsel, Sawyer said he might employ a servant.'Any of your servants', said Pemberton, 'shall assistin writ ing for you.' 'Two,' said the generous Jeffries,'he may have two!' 'My wife,' said Lord Russell, theheart of the husband and the father rising to histongue, 'my wife is here, my Lord, to do it!' Thebystanders turned, and saw the daughter of the mostvirtuous minister whom Charles had ever possessed

or disregarded, take her station at the table; and pity,shame and sorrow, and holy reverence, and thrillingindignation, touched by turns the soul of everyonewho had a heart to feel for his country or himself, forwounded virtue or for violated freedom."37

Amongst hubbub and disorder and protest, Williamwas found guilty and sentenced to death. The King latercommuted this to simple beheading, a cleaner deathmore befitting a nobleman. The Duke of York wantedthe execution to take place outside Lord Russell's ownfront door, but this sadistic vengeance was not granted.

In the few days before he was due to be executed,Russell, his family and friends, made frantic efforts tosave him. Russell wrote to the King, and to the Duke ofYork; his wife Rachel herself delivered this letter to theDuchess of York. His father, the old Earl of Bedford,was distraught and desperate. He offered £100,000 fora pardon for his son. The Earl also wrote to the King,saying that he would be content with bread and water ifonly the life of his son were spared. It was all to noavail. When Lord Russell recognised there was nohope he wrote once more to the King pleading for

consideration for his wife and children after his death.Rachel brought the three children, two girls and a littleboy, to bid farewell to him at Newgate.

The execution took place on 21st July. Itwas a messy and unpleasant business, asthe axeman did not despatch his victim atthe first stroke. Evelyn describes the scene: "On the 21st was the Lord Russelldecapitated in Lincoln's Inn Fields, theexecutioner giving him three butcherlystrokes. The speech he made and thepaper he gave the Sheriff declared hisinnocence and the nobleness of his family.And the piety and worthiness of thisunhappy gentleman wrought effects ofmuch pity, and various discourses on theplot."38 Russell's head was sewn back onhis body, and the remains buried in thefamily vault at Chenies. Fortunately for hisdescendants, the King announced that hedid not intend to profit by the forfeiture ofRussell's personal estate.

Six years later, when William and Marywere on the throne, their first Parliamentpassed an Act to reverse the attainder ofWilliam, Lord Russell, who was nowlauded as "the ornament of his age".

Scenes in the House of Commons that daywere emotional and intense. One Whigmember broke down as soon as he startedspeaking. "I cannot name my Lord Russellwithout disorder," he said. "It is enough toname him. I am not able to say more." Hiscondemnation was declared null and void,and an injunction was passed to canceland take off the file all record of the trial.The Earl of Bedford was created 1st Dukeof Bedford and Marquess of Tavistock, byway of apology for the loss of his son,whom Macaulay called "the most virtuousof all the martyrs of English liberty".

The patent of creation has an interesting preamblewhich shows just how great a national hero WilliamRussell was in the years after the Stuart debacle. Thepreamble begins: "Since in human societies there aresome men so far excelling others, that they may betruely said to embellish those very titles of Honour theywear, and to shed back upon them no less lustre, thanothers borrow from them", and continues in suchlaudatory terms that there is no doubt it is WilliamRussell who is being honoured with the dukedomposthumously rather than his father the Earl of Bedford.

Bedford's greatest honour, it said, was that

"from his loins issued the ornament ofour Age, William the late Lord russell,whose superlative merits we think it notsufficient should be transmitted to allfuture generations upon the credit ofPublic Annals, but will have theminserted in these our Royal LettersPatents, as a monument consecrated tothe most accom plish'd and consummatevirtue in the said family . . . Know yetherefore etc."89

William Russell suffered the unseemly death of amartyr, but his descendants benefited from his life, andhis death, more than from any other member of thefamily after the 1st Earl, who founded the familyfortunes. William brought into the family, by marriage,the estates of the Earl of Southampton in Bloomsbury,which still yield a handsome revenue; his son marriedanother heiress, Elizabeth Howland of Streatham, whobrought yet more estates to the Bedford purse. And if it

were not for his death there would be no dukedom ofBedford at all. The three little children who werebrought to their father in prison at the moment of hisdeepest disgrace grew up to be 2 nd Duke of Bedford,Duchess of Devonshire and Duchess of Rutland. Andthe radical meetings held in his London home laid thefounda tion for one of England's greatest politicalparties — the Whigs.

Mention should be made of another Russelldistinguished by his nonconformity. Bertrand Russell,whose work in mathematics and logical positivismearned him a permanent place in the history of Westernphilosophy, was grandson of Lord John Russell andgreat- grandson of the 6th Duke of Bedford. He wastherefore in direct line of descent from William, LordRussell, whose quarrel with the establishment ended onthe scaffold. The two men have in common theirindomitable opposition to political deceit, and BertrandRussell, like his ancestors, was more than once put inthe pillory for his ruthless honesty, and twiceimprisoned. In all his ninety-six years, he never onceaccepted the established view. (He carried, by the way,the title of Earl Russell, conferred on his grandfather, a

title quite separate from the Earldom of Bedford, whichis carried by the Duke.)

It is time to step backwards and examine the originsof the Russells, one of the greatest of Whig families.Wiffen, who had been commis sioned by the 6th Duketo do precisely this, produced a family tree whichshowed descent from someone called Olaf the Sharp-eyed, King of Rerik, who lived at an unspecified date.One of his descend ants was a certain Hugh de Rozel(in which we recognise the name Russell), who camewith the Norman conquerors in 1066. Sad to say, allthis is so much romantic invention.40 The truth is moreprosaic.

The Russells were traders and merchants fromWeymouth, dealing in wine. It was John Russell, bornabout 1486, who raised the family to the giddy heightsof vast wealth and title by a combination of chance andopportunism. The first chance occurred whenArchduke Philip landed in England, close toWeymouth, in 1506. He was met by Sir ThomasTrenchard, who knew Russell, and sought the latter'shelp as an interpreter. Russell could speak severalEuropean languages fluently. Thus he accompanied the

Archduke to Windsor, and proved himself such a livelyand useful companion that the King, Henry VII,employed him as a gentleman of the Privy Chamber.From that moment, it is a story of rapid advancepolitically, socially, and financially, as John rose in theesteem of his monarch, and of his successor, HenryVIII, and held one important post after another. Hewas diplomat, soldier, counsellor, and trusted friend ofthe King. Apart from Wolsey, there was, for a while,no more important or influential man in the land. Hemarried Anne, daughter of Sir Guy Sapcote, whobrought the property of Chenies to the Russells in 1526(where it remained until 1956, and where all the Earlsand Dukes are buried). He was created Baron Russellof Chenies in 1539.

At the dissolution of the monasteries, the most lavishredistribution of wealth and land since the Conquest,Henry VIII and his son Edward VI simply gave toRussell vast lands which had been confiscated from themonks, including the lands of Woburn Abbey inBedfordshire, thirty manors in Cornwall, Somerset andDevon, formerly belonging to the abbey of Tavistock,several thousands of acres formerly belonging to the

abbey of Thomey in Cambridgeshire, and, in 1552, theCovent Garden "lying in the parish of St Martin's- in-the-fields next Charing Cross, with seven acres calledLong Acre, of the yearly value of six pounds sixshillings and eightpence" (there is to this day a streetwhich bears the name Long Acre). On theseacquisitions are founded the colossal wealth andterritorial power of the family, who were "gorged withecclesiastical spoils".41 Covent Garden remained thepersonal property of the Russells for nearly 400 years.

When Henry VIII died, Russell was one of theexecutors, and in a position naturally to influence theboy king Edward VI. It was this monarch whoconferred upon him the Earldom of Bedford in 1549.John Russell and his four immediate descendants werehenceforth styled 'Lord Bedford'.

The 2nd Earl served Elizabeth I as his father hadserved the three previous monarchs, and was godfatherto Sir Francis Drake. He was succeeded by his1

dissolute grandson, the 3rd Earl, who, with hisspendthrift wife Lucy Harrington, proceeded to workhis way through the inheritance with consciousabandon. On his death in 1627 the title passed to his

cousin, the 4th Earl, who was the first Russell to makehis home at Woburn. He fled there with his wife and tenchildren to escape one of the sporadic plagues whichclutched the throat of London throughout theseventeenth century. He rescued the family fortunes andcommissioned Inigo Jones to build in Covent Gardenand Woburn; St Paul's Church in Covent Garden wasone result of this collaboration. Then, having survivedthe plague, he succumbed to smallpox, and wassucceeded by his son, the 5th Earl. This is the one whowas father of William, Lord Russell, "the patriot", thepolitical martyr beheaded in 1683, and whoconsequently became the 1st Duke of Bedford. He hadmarried Lady Anne Carr, who had been born in theTower of London, where her mother, the Countess ofSomerset, was imprisoned for the murder by poisoningof Sir Thomas Overbury. Apparently, the truth wassuccessfully kept from Anne Carr that her mother hadbeen a wicked murderess. After she became Duchessof Bedford, and was told her parents' true history, shecollapsed in a fit.42

The 2nd Duke was grandson of the first,and son of the unfortunate William, Lord

Russell. He was called Wriothesley afterhis mother's family, the Earls ofSouthampton, and this ambitious mother,whom we know as Rachel, Lady Russell,arranged for him to marry a wealthyheiress from Streatham, ElizabethHowland. It was an astute commercialventure, bringing another £100,000 to theBedford coffers, and yet more estates.Wriothesley had little choice in the matter,which he had to accept as his destiny,trusting to his mother's wisdom. He wasfourteen and a half at the time of themarriage, and his bride was thirteen. Thewedding took place on 23rd May 1695 in achapel of the Howland family mansion atStreatham. Immediately afterwards, theKing conferred upon the bridegroom'sfamily the new title Baron Howland ofStreatham (in order to preserve the bride'sname), a title which to this day is given bycourtesy to the grandson of the Duke ofBedford; the present Lord Howland wasborn in 1962.

The Duke's mother, Rachel, was in aposition to request royal favours, as herlate husband was now a national hero, andhis execution recognised to have been amiscarriage of justice. She squeezed every

advantage from this circumstance.

The 3rd Duke, son of the 2nd, was alsocalled Wriothesley. He was one of themost notorious gamblers of his age. Hadhe been given his way, he would havegambled with the entire Bloomsburyestate, but his wife's grandmother, SarahDuchess of Marlborough, intervened toprevent the disaster. As it was, the Dukemanaged to lose every available penny hecould lay his hands on. In one evening helost nearly a quarter of a million pounds tothe infamous gambler Jansen, an occasionrecorded by Pope in the line : "Or when aduke to Jansen punts at White's." Not formore than forty years was this sumsurpassed as a gambling loss.43 The Dukewas "so intellectually weak and easilyimposed upon that he was the dupe of allthe disreputable men about town and thelaughing-stock of Society".44

He was succeeded by his brother as 4th Duke, whohad also married a grand-daughter of the Duchess ofMarlborough, so that the Duchess was grandmother totwo Duchesses of Bedford. To complicate mattersfurther, his daughter married the Duke of Marlborough

of the next generation, great-grandson of theredoubtable Duchess.

The 4th Duke rescued the family fortunes, onceagain, from the ravages caused by his disastrousbrother, and eventually was said to be the richest manin England.45 Certainly he was among the fourwealthiest individuals in the land.* Unlike hishumourless descend ants, the 4th Duke had areputation for mirth and light-heartedness, a reputationwhich did him little good. Pelham complained that withhim it was "all jollity, boyishness and vanity", andWalpole has nothing but diminutive, hardly affectionate,epithets to describe him. He is "little Aeolus", "theparamount little Duke of Bedford", "this bustling littleDuke", or simply the "merry little Duke".46 When hewent into battle Walpole had this to say: "The Duke ofBedford goes in his little round person with hisregiment; he now takes to the land, and says he is tiredof being a pen and ink man."47 The celebrated satiristwho wrote under the name of Junius was far less gentlein his mockery. He wrote a savage letter to Bedfordwhich begins:

"My Lord,

You are so little accustomed to receive any marksof respect or esteem from the public, that if, in thefollowing lines a compliment or expression ofapplause should escape me, I fear you wouldconsider it as a mockery to your establishedcharacter, and perhaps an insult to yourunderstanding. You have nice feelings, my Lord, ifwe may judge from your resentments ...

"You are indeed a very considerable man. Thehighest rank; a splendid fortune; and a name, glorioustill it was yours, were sufficient to have supportedyou with meaner abilities than I think you possess. . .. Consider the character of an independent virtuousDuke of Bedford; imagine what he might be in this

country, then reflect one moment upon what you are.. It is a splendid piece of vitriolic prose, but it would

be folly to regard it as representing the truth. The"bustling little Duke" was not the monster that Juniuspaints; even Walpole, who was not excessively fond ofhim by any means, believed that he was an honest

man.48 While we can recognise much of the Russellpersonality in Junius's portrait — obstinacy, a tendencyto meanness, opportunism, and an inability to judgecharacter, all traits which will surface again and andagain in the next 150 years - the 4th Duke was neitheran unprincipled nor a stupid man, and he did more thanany other to make Woburn beautiful.

There are manifold other references to the fact thatthe Russells have long been held in high public esteem."All the Russells are excellent", wrote Creevey, "and inmy opinion there is nothing in the aristocracy tocompare with this family." In spite of eccentricities, theyhave been one of the most intelligent families in allEurope.

One matter about which there can be no dispute isthe extent of the Bedford fortune which, already asource of wonder in the eighteenth century, grew stillgreater in the nineteenth, even surviving theextravagances of the 5th and 6th Dukes. "The Duke ofBedford is every day making his colossal fortunegreater and greater", mused the envious Greville.49 By1883, the combined estate covered 86,335 acres, withland in Bedfordshire, Devon, Cambridgeshire,

Northampton shire, Dorset, Buckinghamshire,Huntingdonshire, Cornwall, and, of course, the hugeadjacent chunks of Covent Garden and Bloomsbury inLondon.50 (There had in addition been great estates inHampshire and Surrey.) It was one of the three or fourlargest family fortunes in England. So vast was it, thatthe management of the estates was a burden whichsuccessive Dukes deplored; it seems they paid for theirriches by the sweat of long hours and constant worry.For example, the 7th Duke (brother to Lord JohnRussell, the Prime Minister) would rise at five o'clockevery morning and spend the day grappling with theproblems of his inheritance. He wrote that heconsidered himself "a well-paid agent with an incomeof £12,000 working for those who had mortgages andsettlements on the estates". To his brother William heconfided the terror he felt when confronted with hisresponsibilities: "You are little aware of the cares andworries and plagues I have had to go through in thecourse of the last year, and were it not that it would bewicked to complain of my lot, and not to be grateful forit, I should say that a man with fewer of these caresand responsibilities is a happier man ... If I could put

you in my place, and take your income in place of myown, I am sure I should not be a less happy man."51

Not for the first time does a great landowner realisethat one is better off with one acre than with onethousand. (His wife Duchess Anne, by the way, iscredited with having invented the five o'clock tea.)52

In addition to the Bedford estates, various dukeshave had small private properties scattered over thecountry, to which they have liked to escape. DukeHerbrand had a favourite house in Scotland. HisDuchess (the "flying Duchess") paid £2 a year for acottage between Orkney and Shetland where sheindulged her bird-watching. She also had a house nearMidhurst, where she constructed a runway for heraircraft, but she never lived there. There was a houseon Chiswick Mall in London, which still bears the name"Bedford House", and which the present Duke oncevainly attempted to buy back into the family.

The most sumptuous jewel in the Bedford crown was(and is) Woburn Abbey and its park, over 3000 acressurrounded by eleven and a half miles of brick walls.The house itself, built at different stages by Inigo Jones,Henry Holland, and Henry Flitcroft, is an elegant,

reticent masterpiece, and was the scene of some of themost gracious living in the eighteenth and nineteenthcenturies. Walpole, who spent a week there in 1751,said that he admired rather than liked it,53 but Grevillewas ecstatic in his praise on several occasions.When ever he could pause from writing disparagingremarks about the Bedfords he sprang into lyricaleffusions about their home: "a house abounding in everysort of luxury and comfort, with inexhaustible resourcesfor every taste . . . the house, place, establishment, andmanner of living are the most magnificent I have seen.There is no place which gives so splendid an exampleof a Great English Lord as this. The chasse wasbrilliant; in five days we killed 835 pheasants, 645hares, 59 rabbits, 10 partridges, and 5 woodcocks ... Inever saw such an abode of luxury and enjoyment . . .the management of the estates is like the administrationof a little Kingdom. He has 450 people in hisemployment on the Bedfordshire property alone, notcounting domestic servants . . . There is order,economy, comfort, and general content."54 Grevilleliked to be spoiled. He chose well, for at this time(1820-40) hospitality at Woburn was the most

luxurious in England. Lady William Russell described itas "the most jolly life in Christendom".55

Some of this style of living, less"jolly" perhaps but almost assumptuous, continued until the death ofthe 11th Duke, Herbrand, in 1940.Herbrand had a staff of well over 200,most of whom he never saw. Workpeopleand gardeners used to stationthemselves at strategic intervals in thepark so that they could pass signals toeach other to disappear from viewwhenever the Duke was approaching;this was to spare him the unpleasantsight of a workman.58 He thought it notremotely odd that he should have fiftyfootmen with powdered hair, one ofwhom would stand behind the chair ofeach guest at dinner. Nor did it seemunduly extravagant to give each guest anindividual gold tea-pot for breakfast. Henever used the telephone in his life; thatwas part of modern living of which hepreferred to remain ignorant.

Although Duke Herbrand visitedLondon barely once a year, he kept twofully-staffed establishments in Belgrave

Square, and eight chauffeurs. A guest toWoburn would be taken in one car, withchauffeur and private footman, while hisluggage would travel with its ownchauffeur and footman in another car. Onthe outskirts of London both cars wouldbe met by two more, sent from Woburn,and passenger and luggage would transferfrom one vehicle to another, with yet moreuniformed footmen in attendance.57 Therewere more servants employed whose soletask was to polish the vast silvercollection, and who were required to sleepin the room with it.58 The pages wereclothed and fed, but were not paid.

Duke Herbrand did not regard his styleof living as ostentatious; it would simplybe silly for a nobleman to live in any otherfashion. The realisation that many of hispredecessors had earned a reputation forostentation did not bother him (or did notoccur to him). The worst offender was the5th Duke, who succeeded in 1771 at theage of six, and never married. Like many aself-indulgent bachelor, he enjoyedmaking a display of himself. The waspishWalpole saw him on the occasion of the

King's birthday, and wrote : "The Duke ofBedford eclipsed the whole birthday byhis clothes, equipage, and servants: six ofthe latter walked on the side of the coachto keep off the crowd . . . their liveries areworth an argosie."59 He it was who soldthe family estates in Hampshire andSurrey, to pay for more ostentation of hisperson, and an even grander style ofliving. He was not popular. Walpole makesan unkind reference to him when he cameof age, and ordered the estate manager tohave all his palaces ready for him. Untilthen, the Dowager Duchess, hisgrandmother, had been living in them inthe style of a reigning monarch. Thepeacock young Duke would have none ofthis, and wanted to show off in his ownglorious possessions. Besides, he had amistress, the notorious Nancy Parsons

(Lady Maynard), who had already been mistress totwo dukes, their Graces of Grafton and Dorset, andwho was now in her fifties. Bedford wanted toestablish her at Woburn, and not unnaturally met withsome hard opposition from his grandmother. Walpolewrote:

"If it is only to make room for another antique oldwoman for old woman, I should think one's owngrandmother might be preferable to one that, formany reasons, might be grandmother of halfLondon."60

In the end, both the old women, one his grandmother,the other his mistress, lived there, glowering at eachother from opposite wings.

This grandmother, by the way, the 4th Duke'sduchess, was not without her own penchant forshowing off. At George Ill's corona tion in 1761 theDuchess of Queensberry said that the Duchess ofBedford looked "like an orange-peach, half red andhalf yellow".61 The 5th Duke died in 1801, aged onlythirty-seven, and was succeeded by his brother as 6thDuke. This man, whom we have come across earlierin the chapter, was also, according to Greville, asybarite who relished the display of his wealth; butGreville may well have mixed some ungenerous envywith his harsh remarks:

"A more uninteresting, weak-minded, selfish

character does not exist than the Duke of Bedford.He is a good-natured, plausible man withoutenemies, and really (though he does not think so)without friends; and naturally enough he does notthink so, because there are many who pretend, likeBrougham, a strong affection for him, and some whoimagine they feel it. Vast property, rank, influ ence,and station always attract a sentiment which isdignified with the name of friendship, which assumesall its outward appear ance, complies with itsconditions, but which is really hollow andunsubstantial. The Duke of Bedford is a completesensualist and thinks of nothing but his own personalenjoyments, and it has long been a part of his systemnot to allow himself to be disturbed by thenecessities of others, or be ruffled by the slightestself-denials. He is affable, bland, and of easyintercouse, making rather a favourable impression onsuperficial observers; caring little (if at all) for thewants and wishes of others, but grudging nobodyanything which does not interfere with his ownenjoyments, and seeing with com placency thosewho surround him lap up the superfluities which may

by chance bubble over from his cap of pleasure andhappiness. It is a farce to talk of friendship with sucha man, on whom, if he were not Duke of Bedford,Brougham would never waste a thought."62

Some of the dukes have swung to thevery opposite point, and been positivelymean. The 7th Duke, who had all theincome from his estates, begrudgedmaking an allowance to his brother, LordJohn Russell, who had only what heearned, on which he had to support a wifeand family, run a house suitable to apolitician holding high office, entertain in amanner which his position demanded.Lord John regularly sent his bills to theDuke, who regularly settled them, but theyounger brother suffered from thehumiliation of this proceeding. Asubstantial annuity to Lord John wouldnot have made the difference of a commato the Duke's riches, but he would notmake one. ". . . his love of money is sogreat that he cannot bring himself . .. to doa generous thing on a great scale", wroteone of his best friends. "His colossalfortune, which goes on increasing everyday, and for which he has no use, might

well be employed in making his brothereasy, and in buying golden opinions forhimself; but the passion of avarice and thepleasure of accumulation outweigh allsuch consider ations."83

Again, "he thinks nothing but rolling upenormous savings which he cannot takewith him and which he does not care todistribute".64 Disraeli told Queen Victoriathat Bedford considered accumulation theonly pleasure of life, and that "he neverretired to rest satisfied, unless he couldtrace that he had saved, that day, at least afive pound note".65

Similarly, the 12th Duke, Hastings,would not even allow his wife money tobuy some presentable clothes, and his sonand heir was expected to live on under £100 a year, and to find shirts that cost lessthan £3.

There is a story which relates to oneDuchess of Bedford, wife to the 4th Duke,John. She gave a great ball at Woburn, butdid not heat the grand house properly.Great houses were often cold and damp

because it was the extraordinary habit inthe eighteenth century to wash down thewalls before giving a party. Some of theguests were uncomfortably cold. Three ofthem, Lord Lorn, George Selwyn andHorace Walpole (who, of course, tells thestory), retired into a little room where therewas a fire, and huddled round. TheDuchess saw them, and said nothing, butminutes later a workman appeared withtools ready to take the door off thehinges.66

While Woburn glittered withresplendent dances, the money to pay forthem came from the London properties. Atone time the Duke of

Bedford personally owned the whole ofBloomsbury from Tottenham Court Road in thewest to Russell Square and Southampton Row inthe east, from New Oxford Street in the southalmost to Euston Road in the north, plus thewhole of Covent Garden from Drury Lanewestwards to St Martin's Lane and from theStrand north to Long Acre. Covent Garden was

sold before World War I, but a sizeable portionof Bloomsbury still belongs to the BedfordEstates.

When the Covent Garden of St Peter's,Westminster, was given to John Russell,Earl of Bedford, in 1551, it wasundeveloped pasture land and orchard,and for many years it offered aninterrupted rural view from the rear of theEarl's London house in the Strand. It wasthe 4th Earl (father of the 1st Duke) whocommissioned Inigo Jones to develop theland and make in the centre of it a splendidpiazza in the Italian Renaissance style, thefirst in London. The Earl's old house wasdemolished, and a sumptuous newresidence erected to harmonise with thegeneral scheme. Houses on the piazzawere let at high rents to noblemen and richmerchants. Later, permission was grantedfor dealers in fruit and vegetables to selltheir wares along the back garden wall ofBedford House, thus taking the first stepin a process which was to evolve intoLondon's most famous fruit market.Eventually, the traders dominated thesquare, obliterating the elegance of itsarchitecture. Of Inigo Jones's grand

design, only St Paul's Church remains, andsome of the arcades around the squarewhich suggest former dignity. The rest hasbeen demolished, or smothered in thesurrounding maze of little streets.

Towards the end of the nineteenthcentury, Covent Garden had degeneratedinto a slum, and the Duke became theobject of a sustained campaign topersuade him to clean it up. Punch led theattack, calling him "Duke of Mudford" andhis estates "Mud-Salad Market" and"Gloomsbury". It was Punch's contentionthat Covent Garden was a disgrace toLondon; he compared His Grace ofMudford's negligence to the philanthropyof the Duke of Westminster, eventuallygoading Bedford into offering the site tothe municipal authorities, who would nottake it. There were cartoons showing theDuke lifting his robes above the squalidpuddles of his streets.87 This was the 9thDuke, Hastings, the unhappy sourhypochondriac, who regarded the attacksas yet another indication of the depths towhich mankind may sink. Besides, whatwas the point of having lucrative propertyif you had to spend money maintaining it?

It was not thus that the parsimoniousRussells made their millions. "If one hadn'ta few acres in London in these times ofagricultural depression, I don't know whatone would do," he said.88

The Russell connection with CoventGarden was finally severed in 1914, whenDuke Herbrand sold almost the entireestate to Sir Joseph Beecham (ofBeecham's Pills, and father to Sir Thomas,the conductor). The price was £2 million,and there was sensational publicity at thetime. War and the death of Sir Josephcomplicated the sale, the estate passingfrom the Beecham family to a publiclyowned property company after the GreatWar. The Duke retained his private box atthe Royal Opera House until 1940. It hadbeen his of right since the lease of 1793,and it had its own lobby, lavatory,fireplace dominated by the Russell arms,chimney stack, staircase, and entrancefrom the street. It is said that one couldhappily live in the Bedford box. It nowbelongs to Covent Garden Properties Ltd,and is used by them in total independenceof the Opera House. Also exempt from thesale was 26 James Street, which final link

was sold by the 12th Duke in 1945.09

Like Covent Garden, Bloomsbury wasmonastic land confiscated at theDissolution, and awarded to a deservingnobleman. In this case, the land consistedof an unexciting manor-house, some farmbuildings, and acres of grazing land, andthe nobleman was the 1st Earl ofSouthampton. His descendant, the 4thEarl, developed the land and built asplendid piazza which rivalled the CoventGarden Piazza of his neighbour the Earl ofBedford, to the south. He built a mansionfor himself and his family - SouthamptonHouse. When he died in 1667 his estateswere divided between his three daughters(there was no son), and the portioncontaining Bloomsbury and SouthamptonHouse was allotted to Rachel. Shesubsequently married William, LordRussell, son of the Earl of Bedford, and herproperty automati cally passed into hisownership. The couple lived inSouthampton House. William wasbeheaded, but his son, as 2nd Duke ofBedford, was the first to inherit thecombined estates of Covent Garden andBloomsbury, the first from his grandfather,

5th Earl and 1st Duke, the second from hisparents and maternal grandfather, the Earlof Southampton. He owned both BedfordHouse and Southampton House, twoLondon palaces within walking distance ofeach other. As he had married theHowland heiress at the age of fourteen, heowned other substantial houses andestates in Streatham and Tooting Bee aswell.

Today, the Russell connection withBloomsbury is commemorated in overseventy street names which bear theirfamily names, titles or houses. There is aBedford Square, a Bedford Avenue, aBedford Place, a Bedford Way, a BedfordRow, a Bedford Street and a BedfordPassage. In Streatham there is a BedfordPark. There is

Woburn Place and Woburn Walk, and again inStreatham, Woburn Road. There is Russell Square,and Great Russell Street, Chenies Street (named afterthe Buckinghamshire property), Tavistock Square, andEndsleigh Place and Endsleigh Street, named after thehouse on the Tavistock estate in Devon. Byng Placeand Gordon Square are named after the two

duchesses of John, 6th Duke of Bedford - the Hon.Georgiana Byng and Lady Georgiana Gordon - whileTorrington Street recalls Georgiana's father, ViscountTorrington. Gower Street is an echo of an even earlierduchess, the Hon. Gertrude Leveson Gower, whomarried the 4th Duke. Even Eversholt Street is aBedford name. The 2nd Duke, Wriothesley, boughtthe property of Eversholt in Bedfordshire, and thisname was given to the street which linked theBloomsbury estate with more Bedford lands inCamden Town. The Earl of Southampton, isremembered in Southampton Row.

The course of the twentieth century has seen thegradual, then rapid erosion of this vast inheritance.Covent Garden and the Thorney Estate inCambridgeshire were both sold before World War I.(The Thorney estate had been with the family since thedissolution of the monasteries, and had increased invalue phenomenally as a result of the Russells' pioneerwork in draining the Fens, and quite literally changingthe map of England in consequence. The estatecovered 20,000 acres. Duke Herbrand sold it to thetenants in 1909.)

The disaster which fragmented the remaining Russellproperties was the death within fifteen years of the11th and 12th Dukes. Owing largely to familysquabbles, with successive dukes refusing to talk toeach other, sufficient provision had not been made toprotect the estate when Duke Herbrand died in 1940,leaving a liability for death duties over £3,000,000.The only way in which this could be paid was to sellchunks of the estates. The tax bill had still not beenfully met when the 12th Duke died, a few weeks tooearly, in 1953, adding another £4,600,000 to the deathduty assessment. Hence Chenies had to be sold in1954. Endsleigh House and the 9000-acre estate inDevon went little by little, finally disappearing in 1962;the Blooms- bury estate has been nibbled at, the mostrecent sale being thirteen houses in Bedford Square in1970. Only Woburn Abbey and the surrounding parkremain intact.70

Even Woburn no longer belongs to the Duke ofBedford. The owners are the Bedford Estates, whosetrustees have absolute discretion over what should bedone with it and who should live there. Under theterms of the trusteeship, the Duke could have been

tenant at Woburn for life, but his father and grandfatherconspired to prevent that. The trustees wanted to givethe house and park to the National Trust, but they metwith such fierce opposition from the Duke that theyallowed themselves to be persuaded by him to give hima limited tenancy while he would rescue Woburn fromneglect, and take steps to see that it paid for itself. Thisis what he has done, with conspicuous success. (Thetenancy was later extended to life, but the Duke choseto hand over Woburn to his son.) But it is important toremember that the opening of Woburn Abbey topaying visitors has contributed in no way to thesettlement of death duties, nor was it ever intended to.The death duties were far too huge to be settled in anyother way but by selling property. The Duke's entrancefee to Woburn goes towards keeping the houserunning, with its twenty-two sitting-rooms and twelvedining-rooms, its miles of corridors, maintenance andre- decoration, insurance, heating. It enables him toprotect a home which would otherwise quicklysuccumb to old age, and towards which he feels aremarkably fierce territorial urge (this in spite of his notseeing Woburn until he was sixteen years old, at which

point he learnt for the first time that he was related tothe Duke of Bedford and would one day inherit thattitle himself). The Duke has a limited income from theestate, as do his son and grandson, but neither he northey have any personal property on the Russell estateswhatever. The famous Canalettos in the dining-room,worth an incalculable sum, do not belong to him.

The Duke has himself told the story of how he andhis second wife set about clearing the junk which hadaccumulated while his father had been Duke,themselves cleaning, scrubbing, polishing, and arrangingthe rooms at Woburn so that they might be worthvisiting. They went on to make it the most popularducal residence in England, with an average of nearly1,600,000 visitors a year, many on second or thirdvisits. The name of Woburn is now known all over theworld, the Duke's face recognised more readily thanthat of many a politician. So successful has he been inattracting tourists to Woburn that the Israeli governmentis said to have sought his advice on how to increasetheir tourist trade.71 There was no end to the tricks andinventions he would entertain in order to lure morepeople to the park. He accepted paying guests, mostly

American tourists, who paid large sums for the privilegeof dining with a duke and duchess, and he professed toenjoy meeting them. If a farmhouse was derelict andneeded to be demolished, he would advertise the fact,and charge a fee for watching the farmhouse go up inflames.72 He was once on a visit to Blenheim Palace,residence of the Duke of Marlborough when he wasrecognised and his autograph was sought. He wroteastutely in the Blenheim guide-book that he hoped tosee the tourists at Woburn.73 More cleverly still, heexploited English snobbery by admitting visitors toWoburn by cheque, made payable to "His Grace theDuke of Bedford".74 He frankly admits that he enjoysbeing a duke, and he quite clearly derives muchpleasure from meeting a great variety of people.

None of this would be quite so remarkable were itnot that Ian, 13th Duke of Bedford, is a Russell. He isdeeply sensitive, naturally shy, preferably solitary.Although his third marriage, to Nicole, has been veryhappy, he must inevitably retain that essential Russellreserve. He has. fought against the additionaldisadvantage of an eccentric upbringing, with tutors,

nannies, nurses, maids, but never a relation, and a self-righteous father who, it must be admitted, treated himwith malice. He has striven hard to save Woburn, andhas found in the process an exhibitionist trait whichmust have lain dormant within the tight breasts ofgenerations of Russells. "Having been brought up withservants, I have a servant's mind," he says. It is anenthusiastic success story, rare in the Britisharistocracy.

Bedford is unique among dukes for all these reasonsand more. He is a charming and gentle man, with aquiet sense of humour and a gift for making easyconversation. He is also no fool. Disinherited by hisfather and grandfather, with a miserable allowance of£98 a year to live on, the young Lord Howland had tolearn the value of endeavour. The family disapproved ofhis proposed first marriage (he now speaks himself ofmarriage as a "perilous enterprise", and tried todissuade his son, Lord Tavistock, from marryingHenrietta Tiarks), so he supplemented his income byworking as a reporter. With his second wife heemigrated to South Africa, where he learnt farming, andgrew apricots. It was there that he was tcld he had

become Duke of Bedford in 1953. He sometimesregrets the peace and simplicity of those years.

In 1974 he decided to leave Woburn for good, notbecause he does not still love the place, but because hewanted his son, Lord Tavistock, to take over while hewas young enough to develop an interest. The Dukeand Duchess are now nomadic, addressingconventions, appear ing on television the world over,turning up in Portugal, Switzerland, Rome, Paris; theyare "of no fixed abode". Lord Tavistock is bypro fession a stockbroker, with a quite different stylefrom his father. The indications are that he resemblessome of his less flamboyant ancestors. He would havepreferred to remain in the City, where he was happyand relaxed, and where he had made his own way. Hedoes not find it easy to adapt to-the role of a publiccuriosity to be gazed upon and to have his hand shakenby strangers, but he recognises that personalappearances are part of the job, and he has turnedWoburn into a thriving business enterprise. His wife isthe former Henrietta Tiarks, and they have three sons,of whom the youngest is the first Russell to be born atWoburn for 100 years.

references

1 . Georgiana Blakiston, Lord William Russell andHis Wife, p. 485.2. Greville, V. 459.3. Duke of Bedford, Silver-Plated Spoon, 73.4. Blakiston, 28.5. Buckle, Life of Disraeli, Vol. VI, p. 189.6. Blakiston, 257. Greville, IV, 152 n.8. Buckle, IV, 421.9. Greville, VI, 51.10. Bedford, 11311 . Bedford, 17.12. The Times, 12th October 1953.13. Bedford, 44.14. The Times, 21st October 1941.15. The Times, 19th January 1944.16. The Times, 26th January 1944.17. The Times, 16th October 1953.18. Blakiston, 424.19. The Times, 14th November 1935.20. Bedford, 140.

21. Blakiston, 82.22. The Times, 15th January 1891.23. Bedford, 191.24. Bedford, 212.25. The Times, 3rd September 1945.26. Duke of Bedford, The Flying Duchess, p. 59.27. The Observer, 15th May 1966.28. Flying Duchess, 66.29. ibid., 155.30. ibid., 143.31. The Times, 29th June 1937.32. The Flying Duchess, 92.33. Blakiston, 32, 55, 66, 78,526, 539.34. The Flying Duchess, 63.

35. 12th Duke of Bedford, The Years of Transition.36. Greville, IV, 261.

37. J. H. Wiffen, Memoirs of the House ofRussell, Vol. II, p. 271.

38. John Evelyn's Diary, entry for 1683.

39. Chatsworth Collections, 27.4.

40. Wiffen, I, 17.

41. Greville, IV, 90.

42. Collins Peerage, I, 285.

43. Walpole, XVIII, 124.

44. Great Governing Families in England, II, 48.45. Walpole, XXIII, 274; Blakiston, 433.

46. Walpole, ed. Cunningham, II, 22, 148,191.

47. Walpole, XIX, 160.

48. Walpole, XX, 203.

49. Greville, V, 347.

50. Bateman's Great Landowners.51. Blakiston, 442.

52. Collections and Recollections of One who hasKept a Diary,

p. 107.53. Walpole, XX, 281.

54. Greville, I, 86; V, 39; IV, 417.

55. Blakiston, 108.

56. Duke of Bedford, A Book of Snobs,p.31.

57. Bedford, 8.

58. The Guardian, 16th June 1971.

59. Walpole, ed. Cunningham, IX, 2332.

60. Walpole, XXIII, 344.

61. Walpole, ed. Cunningham, III, 438.

62. Greville, IV, 209.

63. ibid., VIII, 26.

64. The Stanleys of Alderley, p. 303.65. Buckle, Life of Disraeli, VI, p. 385.

66. Walpole, ed. Cunningham, IV, 203.

67. R. G. G. Price, Mr Punch's History of ModernEngland,

pp.182-5.

68. E. F. Benson, As We Were, p. 96.

69. Survey of London, Vol. XXXV, pp. 77,84.

70. Christopher Trent, The Russells, pp.163-7, 173-4, 294.

71. Daily Express, 13th October 1961.

72. Daily Mail, 28th May 1962.

73. Daily Express, 31st July 1962.

The Sun, 16th April 1968.

4. The Noble Houses of Cavendish Duke of Devonshire; Duke of Portland

A Cavendish should always be pictured in his library.He is essentially a bookworm, studious, calm, cool,unflustered. His judgement is reflective, his actions wellconsidered. The Cavendishes have a long and glorioustradition of political service, second to none, but theyhave tended to guide events from behind; the shoutingand the banner-waving they have left to others. Theyhave always been marked by an acute literaryintelligence. Not that they have produced anyone asremarkable as Bertrand Russell in the Bedford family,but they share with the Russells this distinguishingfeature of intelligence, and have occasionally producedplaywrights, essayists, memoirists, and at least oneoriginal scientist. On the whole, however, theirintelligence does not publicise itself, because aCavendish does not have much energy. He likes to beleft in peace. Also like the Russells, the Cavendishesboast a whole gallery of eccentrics, but on the other

hand, they have a strong strain of earthiness. Incommon with the Russells and the Seymours, this familylaid the foundation of its immense wealth on their shareof confiscated monastery lands; they were advanced byHenry VIII and eventually spawned two separatedukedoms. The dukedom of Devonshire continues inunbroken line to the present day; the dukedom ofNewcastle became extinct (and has nothing whateverto do with the present Duke of Newcastle), but theCavendish family hopped by a series of marriages intothe dukedom of Portland. So it is that AndrewCavendish, Duke of Devonshire, and Sir WilliamCavendish-Bentinck, Duke of Portland, representdifferent branches of the same family, though in thelatter's case the Bentinck connection is dominant.

The common ancestress of both Devonshire andPortland is that greatest of all Elizabethan women,making exception only for Queen Elizabeth herself -Bess of Hardwick. Elizabeth Hardwick, of Hardwick inDerbyshire, married four times, and was four times awidow. All her husbands were rich, they all adored her,and they all left her every penny they had. The last ofthe quartet was the Earl of Shrews bury, and it was as

Countess of Shrewsbury that Bess held Mary Queen ofScots prisoner in her house for seventeen years, oncommand of the Queen. It was only when Bess grewjealous of her husband's too-solicitous attentions to theQueen of Scots that she asked Elizabeth to remove her.It is also as Countess of Shrewsbury that Bess shouldbe remembered by posterity, but history persists incalling her 'Bess of Hardwick', the familiar term bywhich she was known to her contem poraries, andwhich has remained her sobriquet for 400 years.

The second of Bess's husbands was SirWilliam Cavendish, close adviser to HenryVIII, and one of the architects of thedissolution of the monasteries.Fortunately for the subsequent comfort ofthe Cavendishes, this was the onlymarriage of the four which produced anychildren, so that all the booty which Besshad accumulated from four widowhoodswent to the children of Sir WilliamCavendish.

Bess had a passion for building. Itamounted almost to an illness. All her lifeshe was surrounded by masons,carpenters, brick-dust. She coiild not cease

building, and her workmen were still busywhen she died. It was said that shebelieved a prediction that she could notdie as long as she was building. We havereason to be grateful to the rogue whomade such a promise, for Bess built threeof the finest houses in the country,including Hardwick Hall, the most elegantof all surviving Elizabethan houses. To hersecond son, who became the 1st Earl ofDevonshire and is the ancestor of thedukes of Devonshire, she left Hardwick,Chatsworth, and Oldcotes. To her thirdson, father of the Duke of Newcastle in theCavendish line, and ancestor of the Dukeof Portland she left Welbeck Abbey.Today the Duke of Devonshire still lives atChatsworth, and the Duke of Portland atWelbeck, while the passionate womanwho built their houses lies buried at AllHallows Church in Derby.

The first master of Chatsworth wasWilliam Cavendish, (1552- 1625), son of SirWilliam and Bess, and nephew of GeorgeCavendish, who wrote the Life of Wolsey.He was uncle to the 1st Duke of Newcastleof Welbeck Abbey (grandson of SirWilliam), and to Lady Arabella Stuart

(grand-daughter of Sir William), whoseromantic story is part of the history of thedukedom of Somerset. Thomas Cavendish,the navigator, was also distantly related.

Chatsworth had been built by SirWilliam at a cost of £80,000 and, withHardwick Hall, it established WilliamCavendish as a person of consequence inthe country. His importance wasrecognised by his elevation to the peerageas Earl of Devonshire, a title for which heis said to have paid £ 10,000.

All the Cavendish lands being in Derbyshire, andnot an acre in Devonshire, the story got about that ascribe had made a mistake, and that "Devonshire" waswritten on the patent in error. In fact, the patent of1618 quite clearly says "Comes Devon" (comesmeans "earl") and that of 1694 equally clearly says"Dux Devon"-, the "shire" was added to the end bycommon consent to avoid confusion with the otherearldom of Devon.

His son the 2nd Earl (1590-1628) was educated byThomas Hobbes, who later became his secretary.Hobbes paid tribute to the Cavendish brilliance of

intellect and incorruptible integrity, charac teristicswhich recur often over the centuries, in a long eulogyof praise which he appended to his translation ofThucydides. Hobbes dedicated the book to his formerpupil, "whom no man was able either to draw or jostleout of the straight path of justice". However bright hewas, financial acumen was not among his attributes. Helived so well that he was obliged to sell some of theestates, and eventually died of over-indulgence at theage of thirty-eight. His son the 3rd Earl of Devonshire(1617-1684) continued the intellectual traditions of thefamily by being one of the first Fellows of the RoyalSociety in 1663. He also introduced the Cedar ofLebanon to England.1

It is with the next Earl (1640-1707) that thedukedom of Devonshire begins. Cavendish was one ofthe first Whigs, a close friend of the martyred William,Lord Russell, and a member of the exclusive radicalset which hatched the Whig party at SouthamptonHouse. He tried to secure Russell's escape byproposing that they should change clothes whenCavendish was visiting him in his cell. Russell declined,and they parted company with embraces and floods of

tears.2 He supported the Exclusion Bill, which soughtto deny the crown to James II, and was one of theseven signatories inviting the Prince of Orange toassume the crown of England. At the coronation ofWilliam and Mary in 1689, Cavendish was Lord HighSteward, bearing the crown, while his daughter borethe Queen's train. Furthermore, it was he who hadargued against Clarendon and Rochester in favour ofJames's deposition, saying that the country wanted aking, not merely a regent. No wonder, then, that KingWilliam III bestowed grateful favours upon Cavendish,one of his staunchest supporters, culminating in hishighest honours as Marquess of Hartington and Dukeof Devonshire in 1694, on the same day that hiscolleague and political ally Russell's father was madeDuke of Bedford.

The Duke was not, however, bought by thesefavours. Unlike some ducal families, the Cavendishesmay with justice claim to be above bribery. When theKing showed signs of an immoderate religious bias, theDuke reminded him that he had come to England toprotect Protestants, not to persecute Papists. He alsomade it quite clear that he thought the Sovereign should

be subordinate to the will of the people.If the Duke in political life was a man of sense, his

private life was rather less well controlled. He had areputation for lewdness, and an insatiable desire for thecompany of pretty women. Such amorousness hasremained a characteristic of his descendants, hand inhand with their probity and their intelligence. When hedied, an anonymous admirer recorded his charms inverse :

"Whose awful sweetness challenged ouresteem,Our sex's wonder and our sex's theme;Whose soft commanding looks our breastsassailed;He came and saw and at first sight prevailed."

The Duke of Devonshire was a bookworm. A studentof Homer, Horace and Plutarch, he was extremelywell-read, and even wrote an ode himself, on the deathof Queen Mary, which received exaggerated praisefrom the flatterer John Dryden.

His son the 2nd Duke (1673-1729), who held manygreat offices in his career, married Rachel, the daughter

of William, Lord Russell, and sister of the 2nd Duke ofBedford. Their son, 3rd Duke of Devonshire (1698-1755), gained his Oxford degree at the age of sixteen,married, and disappeared to the country, "for theunaccount able reason and unenvied pleasure ofshutting himself up at Chats- worth with his ugly madDuchess".3 The next Duke (1720-1764) was PrimeMinister for six months in 1756-7, but only in acaretaker capacity, because Pitt refused to serve underthe outgoing Prime Minister, the Duke of Newcastle;Devonshire went into the job without much enthusiasm.He married one of the daughters of the Earl ofBurlington, sister of that pathetic Dorothy Boyle whomarried Lord Euston, the Duke of Grafton's son, andwho died after seven months of his ill-treatment. Shebrought yet more property to the Cavendish list,including Burlington House in Piccadilly (now the RoyalAcademy), Chiswick House, and lands in Yorkshireand Derbyshire.

Successive Dukes of Devonshire have never beenparticularly impressed with the extent of their property.One nineteenth-century duke was unaware that acertain grand house belonged to him, until someone told

him. The 4th Duke was no exception. A Knight of theGarter, a Fellow of the Royal Society, and a Fellow ofthe Society of Antiquaries, he was happiest in hislibrary, and content to leave politics to his brother LordJohn Cavendish (Chancellor of the Exchequer 1782and 1783). He began a Devonshire habit whichperplexes historians, and can appear endearing tosome, or stupid to others, of calling his offspringexclusively by nickname. His children were known as"Mrs Tiddle, Mrs Hopeful, Puss, Cat and Toe". Thenext generation was to immortalise the nicknames ofthat peculiar trio "Canis", "the Rat" and "Racky".

A contemporary of both the 4th and 5th Dukes ofDevonshire, but unknown to either of them, was thatodd and brilliant character Henry Cavendish (1731-11810), a grandson of the 2nd Duke. He broughtmuch glory to the Cavendish name by his work innatural philosophy, and it was the sort of intellectualaccomplishment which the Cavendishes revered abovemore worldly success. His demon stration of thecomposition of water in 1781 earned him a permanentplace in the history of scientific discovery, in additionto which he was an excellent mathematician,

astronomer, and geologist. Had Caven dish been amore normal man, more interested in self-advertisement, no doubt his discoveries would havebeen known beyond the confines of the Royal Society.But his blazing intelligence was yoked to a furtive,secretive, mistrustful nature, which kept him apart fromthe world, and gave rise to many eccentricities ofbehaviour.

Henry Cavendish lived alone in a villa overlookingClapham Common. He ordered his dinner by leaving anote for his cook on the hall table. (It was the sameevery day - a leg of mutton.) An incorrigiblemisogynist, he never saw any of his servants, and wasnever seen by them. If any unlucky maid showedherself, she was instantly dismissed. To preventaccidents of this sort he had a second staircase built inhis home. He abhorred all human contact, venturingout of his laboratories only to visit the Royal Society,and even there he barely uttered a word. If he sawanyone approach to talk to him, he would slink awayin fear. To be looked at or addressed by a strangerseemed to give him positive pain, when he would dartaway as if hurt.4 Lord Brougham wrote that "he

uttered fewer words in the course of his life than anyman who ever lived to fourscore years, not at allexcepting the monks of La Trappe".5 Any attempt todraw him into conversation was almost certain to fail.Dr Wollaston said, "The way to talk to Cavendish is,never to look at him, but to talk as if it were into avacancy, and then it is not unlikely you may set himgoing."6 Then, when he did speak, it was with a frail,high-pitched squeak, which made it moreunderstandable why he should avoid con versation. Hewas never known to express an opinion on matters ofthe day, being completely indifferent to all but scientificknowledge. He went to the Royal Society with onlymoney enough to pay for his dinner, and not a pennymore. He picked his teeth with a fork, invariably hunghis hat upon the same peg, and stuck his cane in hisright boot. He never changed the cut of his clothes, sothat when he died in 181 o he was still wearing thefashion of half a century earlier, thereby attracting thevery attention which gave him so much distress.

Cavendish was one of the richest menof his day, but could not be bothered todo anything about it. He behaved as if he

were a pauper, not through meanness, butindifference to the subject. The incomewas allowed to accumulate withoutattention. The bankers, discover ing oneday that they held £80,000 of his money,sent a messenger to apprise him of thefact. "What do you come here for? Whatdo you want with me?" squeaked thenervous philosopher to a probablyterrified bank clerk.

"Sir, I thought it proper to wait uponyou," he said, "as we have a very largebalance in hand of yours, and we wishyour orders respecting it."

"If it is any trouble to you, I will take itout of your hands. Don't come here toplague me."

"Not the least trouble to us, sir, not theleast. But we thought you might like someof it to be invested."

'Do so, do so, and don't come here totrouble me, or I'll remove it." And heshowed the poor man the door.

The result of this academic indifference

to money was that when he diedCavendish was the largest holder of bank-stock in England, with a fortuneamounting to £1,175,000. His heir was hiscousin, Lord George Cavendish, who hadbeen allowed to visit the old man for halfan hour each year, and who wasgrandfather of the 7th Duke ofDevonshire. So the mad scientist's wealthfound its way eventually back into theDevonshire pocket.

Dr George Wilson remembersCavendish as "an intellectual head,thinking; a pair of wonderful acute eyes,observing; a pair of very skilful hands,experimenting or recording".7

The day he died, he ordered hisservants not to come near him, and satalone all day, sinking into death. Thedoctor found him too late, and Cavendishpermitted himself an uncharacteristic butrevealing comment with his last breath."Any prolongation of life would onlyprolong its miseries," he said.

Meanwhile, his cousin, the 5th Dukeof Devonshire (1748-1811), was leading a

life devoted to prove the opposite, thatpleasure was the principle which madethe world go round. He had succeeded tothe title at the age of sixteen and hadearly tasted the agreeable fruits of aninactive life. He need not have been solethargic, being endowed with theCavendish intelligence, and a soundjudgement, but he saw no reason to exerthimself, and so he didn't. He chattedpleasantly to friends, gambledconstantly, and married two of the mostengaging women of the day. In his timeDevonshire House became the mostfamous house in London, and hisdomestic life the most talked about. Forwithin those walls there occurred anamazing triangular relationship. TheDuke, his duchess, and his mistress allliving together, in defiance of publicgossip, the offspring from both womensharing the nursery, and both womenprotesting the most undying affection foreach other, a bond as strong betweenthem as between each of them and theman they both loved.

Devonshire House entered the period of its greatest

splendour in ,1774, when the Duke married GeorgianaSpencer, one of the two fascinating daughters of LadySpencer. For the last quarter of the eighteenth centurythis house occupying the entire block between BerkeleyStreet and Stratton Street, with imposing forecourt andwrought-iron gates, "those gates that seemed to openbut for kind ness or to gaiety",8 was the pivot ofLondon society, the best known house in town.Through those gates passed the most famous men andwomen of the day - the Prince Regent, Sheridan, Fox,Lady Bessborough (Harriet, Georgiana's sister). LadyCaroline Lamb was growing up in the nursery, with aclutch of the Duke's legitimate and illegitimate children,and no doubt learning lessons in quiet observationwhich were to form her headstrong character. Thelights were on all night, as Devonshire House partieswould continue until dawn, gambling, dancing,gossiping, intriguing.

In the centre of this "vertiginous glitter"9 sat theamiable Duke, holding court, scarcely bothering tomove, a man able to make indolence appear attractiveand inevitable. People eddied around him, eager tohear his opinion or ask his advice, which was always

sound, but his qualities were known only to his friends.Not tempted to seek public office, he remained to therest of the world an idle, nebulous character,overshadowed by his wife and his mistress.

A contemporary describes him as "a noblemanwhose constitutional apathy formed his distinguishingcharacteristic. His figure was tall and manly, though notanimated or graceful; his manners always calm andunruffled. He seemed to be incapable of any strongemotion, and destitute of all energy or activity of mind.As play became indis pensable in order to rouse himfrom his lethargic habit, and to awaken his torpidfaculties, he passed his evenings usually at Brook'sengaged at whist or faro. Yet, beneath so quiet anexterior, he possessed a highly improvedunderstanding; and on all disputes that occasionallyarose among the members of the club, relative topassages of the Roman poets or historians, I know thatappeal was commonly made to the duke, and hisdecision or opinion was regarded as final."10 Someoneelse commented, "All his ideas arose in his mind withvery gradual progress."

If the public knew little about the Duke,

they knew everything about DuchessGeorgiana. With impulsive joyful abandon,she exposed every facet of her character topublic scrutiny, and seemed not to carewhat anyone thought.

Georgiana Spencer was descended fromthe ubiquitous Villiers family (see Chapter2), which had included Charles II'smistress Barbara Villiers, through one ofthe Duke of Marlborough's daughters; shedescended also, in another line, fromLettice Knollys, wife of Queen Elizabeth'sLeicester, and mother of the same Queen'sEssex. There was in her blood more thanone gene of feminine fascination, and theyall fused in her to create a creature whowas undeniably the most irresistiblewoman of her age.

She was not particularly beautiful, buther personality was seduc tive to a degree.Everyone fell in love with her, everyonewanted to know her, everyone felt betterfor having met her. Walpole says, "TheDuchess of Devonshire effaces all withoutbeing a beauty; but her youth, figure,flowing good nature, sense, and livelymodesty, and modest familiarity make her a

phenomenon."11 Wraxall, anothercontemporary witness, agrees: "... theDuchess of Devonshire, one of the mostdistinguished females of high rank whomthe last century produced. Her personalcharms constituted her smallest pretensionto universal admiration; nor did her beautyconsist, like that of the Gunnings, inregularity of features and faultlessformation of limbs and shape; it lay in theamenity and graces of her deportment, inher irresistible manners, and the seductionof her society."12

The charm of Georgiana's company layin her impish spontaneity, and the genuinekindness of her heart. She was wild,loving, reckless, intoxicating. She jostled,bustled, winked her way through life, herdays packed with feverish activity aboutnothing in particular, leaving a trail of menprostrate with admiration. She had aboveall the gift of enthusiasm, which sheimparted to all who came her way.

Typical of her was the way in which sheattacked the problem of canvassing forFox in 1784. The Devonshires were afamous Whig family, Fox was a Whig

candidate. It was essential that enoughvotes be cast to elect him. If the votes hadto come from the working-class slums ofLondon, then Georgiana and her sisterHarriet, the Duchess and the Countess,would do their canvassing in those slums.They took the matter very seriously, a listof names and addresses in their hands.The story is justly famous, for the pictureof incongruity it suggests is irresistible,and the portrait of Georgiana'sunconventional character is vivid. The twoladies, from the pinnacle of Londonsociety, immaculately, expensively andexquisitely dressed, bubbling over withgood nature and sparkle, walked into thepubs and shops of the East End andpersuaded the locals to give their votes toFox. Such ladies had never been seen inthose parts. Georgiana and Harriet weretriumphant; they caused a sensation.Georgiana gave a butcher a kiss (the mostcelebrated kiss in parliamentary history)for the promise of his vote, and an Irishsweep said that if he were God he wouldmake her Queen of Heaven.13 Georgiananow had half working-class London in herpocket, as well as the Prince of Wales andthe whole of the smart set. Fox was

elected.

The extravagance of this behaviour, while it mightwin admirers of her elan, did not win friends. Tonguesbegan to wag, the newspapers to make unpleasantinferences. Malicious gossip, to which Georgiana wasserenely indifferent, followed her everywhere, andcaused her mother much anguish. Year after year LadySpencer wrote letters of gentle remonstrance to herwild daughter, begging her to have a care of herreputation. "You must learn, my dearest Georgiana,"she wrote in 1775 (nine years before the votes-for-kisses incident had marked her for posterity), "torespect yourself, and the world will soon follow yourexample, but while you herd only with the vicious andthe pro fligate you will be like them, pert, familiar,noisy, and indelicate, not to say indecent in yourlanguage and behaviour, and if you once copy them intheir contempt for the censures of the grave, and theirtotal disregard for the opinion of the world in general,you will be lost indeed past recovery."14 This waswhen Georgiana had been Duchess of Devonshire foronly a year. Ten years later, the mother is worried

about the killing pace of her daughter's life, and theinjury to her health which must result. It is clear fromthis letter, one among many, that the Duchess wastaking tranquillisers to calm her down, and laudanum(i.e. opium, a common enough remedy at the time) tokeep her going. "For God's sake try to composeyourself. I am terrified lest the perpetual hurry of yourspirits, and the medicine you take, to obtain a falsetranquillity, should injure you . . . Nothing is so bad foryou as continual fretting. Why will you not say fairly: Ihave led a wild and scrambling life that disagrees withme. I have lost more money than I can afford. I willturn over a new leaf and lead a quiet sober life fromthis moment . . The Duchess did not, of course, heedher mother's advice; she never heeded a moment'sadvice in her life. It was not that she was too stupid tounderstand that everyone was right. She knew that hermode of life was harmful, spoke herself of her"giddyness", and begged her children not to follow herexample. But she was a creature of impulse and joy,who could assent to the force of rational argument, andimmediately act in total disregard of it. The power ofpleasure was paramount in her, so strong that it carried

its own conviction.Georgiana's greatest single fault was gambling. She

lived in a gambling age, when almost the whole of thenobility loved to play, but she was the worst kind ofgambler, one who lost, and who didn't know when tostop. She borrowed money, and went on as before,with the result that she accumulated enormous debts.The Duke gambled too, so did Old Q (the Duke ofQueensberry), and Charles Fox, who once lost£20,000 at play. Gibbon tells us that Fox once playedfor twenty-two hours without pause, losing £500 anhour. And we already know of the Duke of Bedford'sdisastrous losses. People laid bets on anything, andwhen not laying bets they were amusing themselves atsome other game. Most of the games have now beenforgotten, and only some street names remain (such asThe Mall) to remind us of the elegant times when theCourt played at Mall. In old prints of St James's Parkyou can see the marks on the wall to note the balls.Thackeray says, "I have calculated the manner in whichstatesmen and persons of condition passed their time -and what with drinking, and dining, and supping, andcards, wonder how they got through their business at

all."16

To such temptations, Georgiana was an easy prey.She threw herself into the dissipation of play withsublime disregard for the con sequences, and withoutso much as a word to her husband (who does not seemto have cared what she did when she was not withhim). In 1797 her sister Lady Bessborough wasarrested and fined for gaming at the house of LadyBuckingham. Though Georgiana was never arrested,her addiction would have ruined her were it not for thehelp, understanding, and patience of her mother, herhusband, and friends who willingly advanced hermoney. She was in debt all her life. She lied about theamounts she owed, and lied to herself about theirimportance. If she admitted to owing £6000, it waslikely the true total of her debt was £26,000. Shewould borrow another few thousand, and then banishthe matter from her mind.By the end, she owed well over £120,000 to a varietyof creditors, including the Duke of Bedford, and Couttsthe banker. She kept the revelation of her sins from theDuke until the last possible moment. He appeared notto know what the rest of London knew, that his wife

was a compulsive loser, and remained in ignorance ofthe truth for years. It is quite clear from her letters thatshe was terrified of telling him, and equally clear that hereacted like an angel, albeit a lethargic angel.

The dismal story of self-deceit is told inletters from poor Thomas Coutts (wholater married Harriot Mellon, the actresswho became Duchess of St Albans; seeChapter 2). Flattered that the most famouslady of London should come to him forhelp, the banker offered avuncular advicewith one hand, and money with the other.The Duchess listened to the first in orderto get hold of the second. In 1787 hewrote: ". . . how much it shocks me to thinkwhat your Grace puts into hazard byindulging a passion for play ... I should behappy beyond expression if I could think Ihad even the smallest share in saving yourGrace from the dreadful consequences Iforesee. It is presumptuous, I confess, tosuppose I can have any such power, andimpertinent perhaps to obtrude myopinion, or to suppose any such advicesat all requisite. From all this I can only takeshelter in the purity of my intentions, andyour Grace's goodness to see them in thetrue light."17 Two years later, when the

Duchess, far from repaying the debt, asshe naively assumed it would somehow berepaid, had actually asked for more, Couttsis beginning to get anxious. "It is reallyromance what I have done with moneyalready, and how to reconcile to anybounds of discretion (with my little means)to do more, I know not. Besides, tho' yousay it will save you, how does it appearthat the second £6000 will succeed (in thischarming purpose) better than the first."After warning the Duchess again of theprecipice on which she stands, of thedanger to which she is exposed, thefaithful Coutts promises to advanceanother £6000, at the same timesuggesting that she ought perhaps to tellthe Duke all. By 1792, five years after thefirst loan, and without any sign that apenny will be repaid, Coutts isdisenchanted. "I have never yet refused adraft of yours," he says with conspicuousirrita tion, "perhaps it would have beenquite as well for you, and much better forme, I had never paid one." And tenmonths later: "But in money mattersninety-nine favours granted areannihilated by the hundredth whenrefused."18 Well might he regard the

fascinating Duchess as a kind of Circe.

Duchess Georgiana was fittingly a leader of fashion.The skirts worn at this time achieved an enormouscircumference. Georgiana, in order to counterbalancethis, took her powdered hair higher and higher aboveher head, until it could be piled up some two feet.Above this, she wore huge ostrich plumes, and the restof fashionable London followed suit. So significant aninnovation was it that even the Dictionary of NationalBiography mentions the Duchess's contri bution tofashion.

Though not a learned woman, Georgiana wasintelligent. She counted among her friends people likeJohnson, who would never suffer a fool and was not asnob, and Sheridan. The stream of visitors toDevonshire House and Chatsworth included many menof culture as well as men of fashion or politics. Shewrote a novel herself, published anonymously in 1779,called The Sylph. She never bothered to deny theattribution of authorship to her.

When Georgiana Spencer married in 1772 shecaptured the prize of the year in the Duke of

Devonshire. Wealthy and undemanding, he was theperfect spouse. The marriage date had to be keptsecret even from the bride, to avoid crowds andpublicity which would have been inevitable had sheblurted it out; she was told one morning after breakfastthat she was to be married that day. Only theimmediate family was present, including the Duke'ssister, the Duchess of Port land. On that happy day inJune she could not have known that she was to embarkon a very strange alliance, involving three peopleinstead of two. But had she known, she would not havebeen afraid.

Lady Elizabeth Foster first appeared on the scene in1782 when the Devonshires had been married for eightyears and were yet childless. Born in 1758, she was thedaughter of the Earl of Bristol (the "Earl-Bishop") andhad been married very unhappily to John ThomasFoster, m.p., in obedience to her parents. The marriagewas a misery, Foster being a parsimonious tyrant. Twosons were born, but shortly afterwards Lady Elizabethceased to live with her hus band. She was muchadmired by contemporaries, wooed by the Duke ofRichmond and by Gibbon, amongst others, and was

much more beautiful than Georgiana. To her friends shewas known as "Bess". Gibbon writes of her, comparingher with the Duchess: "Bess is much nearer the level ofa mortal, but a mortal for whom the wisest man, historicor medical, would throw away two or three worlds ifhe had them in possession." He also said that "if shechose to beckon the lord chancellor from his woolsackin full sight of the world, he could not resistobedience".19

In short, Lady Elizabeth was the second mostfascinating woman of the day. It is curious that she andthe Duchess should have been drawn to each other;one would have expected them, with more reason, tobe rivals. The mysterious chemistry of friendshipoccurred at their first meeting, and they established afirm and ardent fellow ship which lasted all their lives.Georgiana wanted so much for her husband the Duketo like her new friend. She could not have asked forbetter, as Lady Elizabeth became his mistress within avery short time, and all three lived more or less happilyever after. More or less, because although the three-sided affair did not threaten to over turn the love orfriendship which each member felt for the other two, it

did, perhaps naturally, cause some concern to othermembers of the family. Georgiana's mother, LadySpencer, refused to meet Lady Elizabeth, so that theDuchess had tactfully to arrange her mother's visits toChatsworth or Devonshire House while Lady Elizabethwas away. The imperturbable Duke did not wasteenergy in pondering the suitability or otherwise of thearrangement. He merely enjoyed it and went about hisagreeable life as before. Nobody dared ask him abouthis domestic understandings, though everyone knew.Before long, he was fathering children by both ladies.

In July 1785 both wife and mistress gave birth, withina few weeks of each other. The Duchess's little girl wascalled Harriet and was born in the comfort ofDevonshire House. (There was a previous daughtercalled Georgiana, born in 1783.) Lady Elizabeth'sac couchement was squalid by comparison. Even theDevonshire House set could not risk the obloquy of theworld by allowing the Duke's illegitimate daughter, aswell as his legitimate one, to be born in his house in thesame month. So Lady Elizabeth was packed off toItaly, where her little girl was brought into the world bya back- street amateur. She describes the scene in her

diary: "Imagine a little staircase, dark and dirty, leadingto the apartments of these people. The family consistedof the Archi-Pretre des Amoureux; his woman-servant, a coarse, ugly and filthy creature, the doctorand his wife . . . everything that one can imagine ofwicked, vulgar and horrible ... I had to dine with him,and to endure the odious com pany of these people; Ihad to live in a house which was little better than ahouse of ill fame."20 The girl was called Caroline StJules, and when she came to London with her motherto take up her place in the nursery at Devonshire Houseshe was passed off as the daughter of a Frenchnobleman whom Lady Elizabeth and the Duchess hadagreed to look after. One cannot be sure how manypeople were fooled, but the story grew increasingly thinwith time, and with further additions to that strangenursery. Caroline grew up to marry George Lamb,brother of William Lamb, so that she too, was "LadyCaroline Lamb" as well as Lady Bessborough'sdaughter, who had married William Lamb. Todifferentiate the two, they were known as "CaroWilliam" and "Caro George".

Three years later, Lady Elizabeth again

went on her travels, this time to Rouen, togive birth to the Duke's son, whom theycalled Augustus Clifford (Clifford hadbeen a title borne by the Duke's mother).Lady Elizabeth had what appears to us thecool effrontery to write to her dear friendthe Duchess with the wish that she,Georgiana, may have a boy too. "Erring asI have been," she writes, "yet my heart canfeel nothing but tenderness and joy at thesight of this dear child - I only wish nowthat my dear friend had a son also."21

Georgiana gave birth to a son and heirin 1790, the Marquess of Hartington,known as "Hart", who as a young manwas desperately in love with his cousinLady Caroline Lamb (i.e. Caro William); hewas subsequently the 6th Duke ofDevonshire. To make the matter even morecomplex, the Duke had another daughterby a third woman, and this girl was calledCharlotte. Georgiana, too, had herobligatory visit to the continent, to givebirth to her daughter by Charles Grey in1791, a girl who was given the name ElizaCourt ney. The Duchess was banishedfrom England for two years as a result ofthis indiscretion (or "scrape", as she

would call it), but was welcomed home bythe Duke in 1793 to resume the round ofpleasurable living. Half a century later,Greville wrote that "the private (for secretit never was) history of Devonshire Housewould be very curious and amusing as ascandalous chronicle, an exhibition of vicein its most refined and attractive form, fullof grace, dignity and splendour, but Ifancy full of misery and sorrow also".22

Greville was writing at a time in thesocial history of England when a moralstance took the place of decent behaviour,and when it was no longer possible tounderstand the curious morality whichallowed the Devonshire Housearrangement to work. He may well thinkthat such debauchery must bring miseryand sorrow, but he would be wrong.However freely they bestowed theiremotions, the Devonshire trio werehonourable towards each other, and farmore "moral" in their behaviour to eachother and to other human beings than theconstrained, frustrated Victorians couldever hope to be. It was moral, for example,that the various children of these liaisonsshould each receive the parental affection

that was their due. Jealousy, envy, hatred,were unknown to them. Their instinctswere decent.

Greville was also denied the perusal ofletters which passed between wife andmistress, and which would have made hiseyes blink in in comprehension.Georgiana called her husband's mistress"my dearest, dearest, dearest Bess, mylovely friend ... my angel love", and shesigns herself, "your idolizing G". InJanuary 1784 she wrotes: "I am gulchy,gulchy when I reflect at the length oftime that is elapsed since we first knewone another here, at the length of timesince I have lost you and at the distanceto our meeting, but I comfort myself bythinking what a sacredness all this givesto our friendship. Thank God, we havenow been long enough united not toblush at the short period of ourfriendship. Dr Dr Dr Bess, you growevery day more and more Canis's* sisterand yr Georgine's friend . . . you my love,are Canis's child's guardian angel, hisand my benefac tress." When sheconfesses to Bess that she is deep inshameful debt, she begs her: "My angel

Bess, write to me, tell me you don't hateme for this confession, oh, love, love,love me ever."23

Before anyone should wonder, in thisage when our sensibilities are smotheredby psycho-analysis, I suppose one oughtto point out that there was no trace of alesbian relationship between the twowomen. It was common form to addressone's friend as "dearest love"; people wereless ashamed of emotion than they arenow, and they valued attachments.Brothers used terms of affection whenaddressing their sisters that would nowseem excessive. Bess was no doubt rightto say that the friendship she had with theDuchess was stronger "than perhaps everunited two people".24 It certainly survivedall the minor infidelities of love-making,and both Georgiana and Bess loved theDuke without feeling that they hadtherefore to hate each other.

Georgiana's decline into middle age wasrapid, owing to the pace of her life, and thepills which she took to sustain her in it.Lady Holland described her in 1799, when

she was only forty-two, as "painful to see;scarcely has she a vestige of those charmsthat once attracted all hearts. Her figure iscorpulent, her complexion coarse, one eyegone, and her neck immense."25 She hadsuffered torments with an infection of theeye, for which the medical attentions ofthe day were inadequate. She wasprescribed an application of threespoonfuls of water mixed with two ofbrandy and one of vinegar, which all butruined her sight completely. Ahandkerchief was tied around her neck toforce all the blood into her head, and thenleeches were applied to her eye to bleed it.Not surprisingly (to us) the eye becameulcerated and grew to the size of agrapefruit. She then changed to bathing itin warm milk, but it was too late. She fellback on laudanum to relieve the pain.

* "Canis" was the Duke. "Racky" was Bess, and "The Rat" wasGeorgiana.

Georgiana Duchess of Devonshire died in 1806 aged

forty-eight, and with her died a brilliant epoch. Her

friend Bess was distraught with grief. Her sister LadyBessborough wrote : "Anything so horrible, so killing asher three days' agony no human being ever witnessed. Isaw it all, held her thro' all her struggles, saw herexpire, and since have again and again kiss'd her coldlips and press'd her lifeless body to my heart, and yet Iam alive."26 Not having known her, we cannot judgehow given to exaggeration her obituarists might havebeen, but one of them writes with the ring of convictionwhen he says, "never, we will venture to say, was thedeath of any human being more universally lamentedthan hers will be."27

With her died also that wonderful gift of affectionpossessed by the whole Devonshire House set. Thenext generation was much less generous of heart.Georgiana's children turned on Bess, who con tinued tolive with the Duke and grow old with him, and one ofthem, Harriet, known as Harryo, nursed an implacablehatred of her. When, three years later, the Duke tookthe only honourable and logical course by making Besshis second duchess, the children, now grown-up, wereoutraged. But the Duke first wrote a warm andeloquent letter to his mother-in-law Lady Spencer

advising her of his intention.28

The marriage lasted only two years, for the Dukedied in 1811, though Bess's love for him continuedbeyond the grave. The children were quite insensitive,and Hart, now the new duke, ordered her to leaveDevonshire House a week later. She spent her lastyears in exile in Rome, where she gathered around hera coterie of eminent people of culture, and where shedied in 1824. Hart, by this time reconciled, had herbody brought back to England, where it lay in state atDevonshire House, before being buried in theCavendish vault at Derby, alongside her beloved dukeand her beloved friend, Georgiana. Georgiana's son,Hart, the 6th Duke of Devonshire (1790-1858), led alife which was supremely characteristic of a Cavendish- unde monstrative, unnoticed, and comfortable. Incommon with his ancestors, he was a man of muchability, which he never used. His talents lay neglected,for want of the energy to make them blossom. In hiscase, the habits of timidity and reserve werecompounded by an incurable deafness, which showeditself in childhood and persisted throughout his life. As aresult of this, he never spoke in the House of Lords,

though he conscientiously sat there and gave his vote.His tastes were literary, being a member of theRoxburghe Club, and he devoted much attention to hislibrary at Chatsworth, to which he added manyvolumes bought from the Duke of Roxburghe'scollec tion. A true Cavendish, his library was his home.Also like a Caven dish, his hospitality was lavish.Though he may have preferred soli tude, he saw it ashis duty to entertain and to share his various homes. Inhis lights, it would have been immoral to live alone in agrand house, so he suffered what must have beentorment for him, to be surrounded by forty people atdinner every day, talking in a cacophony of soundwhich he could not unscramble into words.

Though he took no active part in political life, hewas powerful enough by virtue of his name andpossessions to be indifferent to status. He was knownto decline a royal command, almost an unheard-ofsnub, because he had a party that evening at Chiswickwhich had been arranged long before.29 Hart wouldnot regard this as anything but simple truth. It was notwithin him to be insulting or calculating.

The one passion of his life, conceived in childhood

and subdued in maturity, was his affection for hisbewitching cousin, Lady Caro line Lamb, to whom hesigned himself "Devilshire". Theirs was a puppy lovegrown into devotion, the letters between them full ofeloquent endearments. The Duke did not marry,however; he was sometimes called the Bachelor Duke.No doubt his deafness made him uncertain in femalecompany. His affaires amoureuses were reserved forParis.

His fame rests not on an achievement of his, but onthe achieve ments of his protege, Sir Joseph Paxton.Were it not for Devonshire, Paxton may not have beendiscovered. Mr Paxton, a young man in his earlytwenties, was employed on the Duke's estate atChatsworth as a gardener. The Duke recognised hisspecial talents, and en couraged him to give themexpression; he commissioned Paxton to build atChatsworth a giant conservatory, 300 feet long by 145feet wide, by 60 feet high, covering in all one acre.This unique construc tion soon attracted the world'snotice to the young gardener, whose career culminatedin the Crystal Palace built for the Exhibition of 1851, avast glass building placed in Hyde Park, modelled to

an extent on the conservatory at Chatsworth, andwhich now has a suburb of London named after it.Paxton and the Duke remained close friends all theirlives, the one a brilliant worldly success, the other adisappointed and unhappy man. "I had rather all thoseplants were dead than have you ill", the Duke wrote toPaxton in 1835. "He is more kind to me than you canpossibly imagine", said Paxton.30 In a way, the Dukeenjoyed Paxton's achievements by proxy.

He was succeeded by a distant cousin, the 7th Dukeof Devonshire (1808-1891), who had been a memberof Parliament for the Uni versity of Cambridge, a cleverscholar with a scientific bent, and was subsequentlyChancellor of the Universities of London andCam bridge. He liked being at Hardwick Hall becausehe could lead a more private life there. He married agrand-daughter of the 5th Duke, thus knitting the familytogether again, and was succeeded by his son SpencerCompton Cavendish (the first in the line not to be calledWilliam Cavendish after the founder of the familyfortune), 8th Duke of Devonshire (1833-1908). Formost of his life this man was Marquess of Hartington,coming to the dukedom at the age of fifty-eight, so it is

by his nickname of "Harty-tarty" that the memory ofhim lingers.

Harty-tarty holds a place in the history of nineteenth-century politics far in excess of his achievements, byvirtue of his solid common sense. He held manypolitical offices, but grew to dislike them, and threetimes he refused to be Prime Minister. For forty yearshe was in and out of the Cabinet. He distrusted rhetoricand insincerity, of which he found all too much evidencein political life. His own mind worked slowly. He wasnot quick-witted, not elo quent, not amusing, notengaging, but he was a first-rate adminis trator, and haddeep convictions, which he never compromised. Harty-tarty was boring, but right. Members would put up withhis Interminable factual speeches, delivered without aglint of humour or relief of phrase, because they knewhe was more conscientious than anyone else, and hadbetter judgement. Margot Asquith said that hisspeaking "was the finest example of pile-driving theworld has ever seen". He himself knew how boring andlaborious he was. He once yawned in the middle of aspeech in the House, and apologised by explaining thatwhat he was saying was "so damned dull".31 Duti fully,

Harty-tarty invited large numbers of house-guests toChats- worth, but could rarely remember who theywere. More than once there were nearly 500 people,including servants, staying in the house. He was acasual, easy-going man, impossible to impress. One ofhis guests wandered over to Pevensey Castle, aromantic ruin which belonged to the Duke[6] At dinner,the Duke asked him where he had been, and the guestsaid how impressed he had been with Pevensey Castle."Pevensey?" said the Duke, to whom the name rang abell. "Whose is Pevensey?"32Such a casual attitude towealth and possessions carried its own charm. Just as itwas impossible to impress the Duke, so he neversought to impress anyone else. Status-seeking wastrivial to him, but if you had status already, it wasequally trivial not to use it. One of his father's agentswas disquieted by the amount of money which Harty-tarty was spending, and conveyed his concern to theDuke who could not understand what all the fuss wasabout. "Well," he said,' 'isn't there plenty of it?"

Harty-tarty was not ambitious; he had nothing to beambitious for. He did not know the feeling ofenthusiasm in anything. He was reported to have said

that the happiest moment in- his life was when his pigtook first prize at an agricultural show. Whatever hesaid or did was based on principle, not gain orexpediency. He had more probity and common sense,and was known to have them, than any of hiscontemporaries. Hence his enormous influence. "I don'tknow why it is," he said, "but whenever a man is caughtcheating at cards the case is referred to me." Howeverlightweight the remark, it shows that the Duke wasreputed incorruptible, because he was above reward.

Margot Asquith has left us the best pen-portrait ofthis Duke. He was, she wrote, "a man whose like weshall never see again; he stood by himself and couldhave come from no country in the world but England.He had the figure and appearance of an artisan, withthe brevity of a peasant, the courtesy of a king and thenoisy sense of humour of a Falstaff . . . possessed ofendless wisdom. He was per fectly disengaged fromhimself, fearlessly truthful, and without petti ness of anykind."33

As he grew older, Harty-tarty's constitutionalsomnolence became worse. He would fall asleep atdinner, during a speech, or at the top of the stairs. He

fell asleep once in the House of Lords, woke up with astart, looked at the clock, and said, "Good heavens!What a bore! I shan't be in bed for another sevenhours." On another occasion, he said, "I had a horridnightmare. I dreamed I was making a speech in theHouse of Lords, and I woke up and found I wasactually doing so."34 His last remark, as he lay dying,was typical of the man. "Well," he said, "the game isover, and I'm not sorry."35

A game, indeed, it had been, and played with afinesse which only the Victorians could master. For thisupright, thoughtful and straightforward man had forthirty years been having a discreet, but not secret, affairwith the Duchess of Manchester.

The Duchess of Manchester, afterwards Duchess ofDevonshire, was a German aristocrat by birth -Countess Louise von Alten. It was said that nobodycould understand how beautiful a woman could beunless they had seen the Duchess of Manchester atthirty. She quickly became the leader of the "fast set" inLondon (as opposed to the more sedentary "Victorian"set), gambled and danced the days and nights away.She bore the Duke of Manchester five children but her

one true love was Harty-tarty, to whom she wasdevoted. They always addressed each other formally inpublic, by their titles. No whisper of scandal wasallowed to follow them; they were scrupulously correct.

Louise was a remorseless lady of ambition. It wasshe who pushed Harrington into the position ofinfluence which he held. She wanted desperately forhim to be Prime Minister, and he, of course, did notgive it a thought. They made an odd couple ofconflicting elements, he sluggish and contented, shepowerfully imperious. She had some thing of the"unswerving relentlessness of a steam-roller about her,neither kindly nor unkindly, but crushing its way on, andflattening out the unevennesses of the road it intendedto traverse". She prodded and drove him. Fortunately,he was possessed of such a large measure of commonsense, that he did not allow himself to be influenced byher. As E. F. Benson has put it, "It was largely she whomade him use his weight; he could use it equally wellsitting down."38

When the Duke of Manchester died, Louise becamethe "Double Duchess' by marring Devonshire, andwhen he died she shuffled into an awesome old age, her

looks gone, but her imperiousness augmented.Consuelo Vanderbilt (Duchess of Marlborough)described her as "a raddled old woman, covering herwrinkles with paint, and her pate with a brown wig. Hermouth was a red gash, and from it, when she saw me,issued a stream of abuse."37 With her wigs, and herdiamonds and her rouge, surrounded by minions, shewas "rather like the half-ruinous shell of somecastellated keep, with flower-boxes in full bloom on thecrumbling sills . . . almost a piece of still life,expressionless, speechless, and motionless".38 She diedafter a stroke at Sandown races in 1911.

For all that, Louise the Double Duchess was a faithfulfriend and wife. From the day they formed theirromantic attachment to the day the Duke died, not oncewere they tempted elsewhere. Her love for him wastouching; it alone was able to relax the features of herstatuesque face, which generally showed no emotion atall in public. One who caught a glimpse of this love wasDaisy Warwick, who wrote: "To all outwardappearance both the Duke and Duchess of Devonshirewere devoid of the normal human sympathies, but therewas no other man in the world for her, and there was

no other woman for him. They were not prepossessingpeople, but their love for one another was a verybeautiful thing."39

She used to say that when Devonshire died he wouldgo straight to Heaven (pointing her first finger highabove her head), but Lord Salisbury, on the other hand. . . (her finger dived to the floor).40 Little did she knowthat Salisbury's grand-daughter would herself becomeDuchess of Devonshire in time.

The 8th Duke died in 1908, and was succeeded byhis nephew as 9th Duke (1868-1938), who continuedthe family's political tradi tions: he was Secretary ofState for the Colonies, and Governor-General ofCanada. His second son married Adele Astaire (FredAstaire's sister), and his daughter Dorothy marriedHarold Mac- millan, the Prime Minister.

The 10th Duke of Devonshire (1895-1950), whowas deaf like the 6th Duke (Georgiana's son), suffereda period of family tragedies which made it seem that theCavendishes were being pursued by a particularlymalignant Fate. The son and heir, Marquess of Harting-ton, married a daughter of the American Ambassador,Joseph Ken nedy, whose second son, Jack, would one

day be President of the United States. She wasKathleen Kennedy, by every account the sweetest andmost good-natured girl in the family. There was,however, one major difficulty. The Cavendishes, as oneof the found ing Whig families, had always been fiercelyProtestant, and the Kennedys were as passionatelyCatholic.

Opposition to the marriage from the Kennedy sidecontinued for years. The Kennedys would notcountenance the idea of future grand children beingeducated in the Protestant tradition, and while theDuke's family was fond of Kathleen (or "Kick")personally, her religion did present an obstacle. "Itamuses me to see how worried they all are," wroteKick. Added to which, of course, the war had started,and Joe Kennedy was spending much of his timedisparag ing the British.

The marriage eventually took place in 1944, six yearsafter per mission had first been sought. Four monthslater, Hartington was killed in action, and the newMarchioness was herself killed in an air crash in 1948.Chips Channon wrote: "Billy Hartington killed; myadorable Charlie Cavendish [that's Adele Astaire's

husband, who also died in 1944]. And now Eddie [the10th Duke] dead at fifty-five. What dread score hasdestiny to pay off against the Devonshires? ... Is it theend of Chatsworth and of Hardwick?"41

If one were superstitious, it would be impossible toresist the infer ence that the association with theKennedy family had been fatal; it is well known thattragedy has consistently stalked the Kennedys. LordHartington was no ordinary loss - he was an extremelyclever man with a promising future. His death made hisbrother, Andrew Robert Buxton Cavendish (born1920), heir to the dukedom; he suc ceeded as 11thDuke in 1950.

In keeping with the family tradition of public service,the Duke of Devonshire has held political office. In fact,he is the only duke of the present generation to havedone so after succeeding to his title. He was Minister ofState for Commonwealth Relations from 1962 to 1964,then for Colonial Affairs for a year afterwards. Sinceleaving political life, he has devoted himself to othercherished duties, especi ally his association withManchester University. He is Vice-Lieutenant ofDerbyshire, a Trustee of the National Gallery, President

of the Royal Hospital and of the Home for Incurables,and sometime President of the Lawn TennisAssociation. He was a major in the ColdstreamGuards, with whom he served in World War II.

To meet Devonshire is to have an uncanny feelingthat one is in the presence of his formidable great-unclethe 8th Duke. A man of obvious ability and stature, hehas authority in his style, and com mands respectsimply by his presence. Frivolity he abhors, flattery hewould detest. He is not a man to receive or paycompliments easily. A certain diffidence allied toprofound inherent probity make him a man of fewwords - abrupt and laconic. From his mother (adaughter of Lord Salisbury) he has inherited the Cecilvoice with its rapid speech. (It has been said that aCecil can get through more words in a minute thanother people can in five.) Everything else about him ispure Cavendish, down to his impeccable suits. TheDuchess of Devonshire is one of the famous Mitfordsisters, daughters of the 2nd Lord Redesdale. It is oddhow all the fasci nating aristocratic women whose famehas endured over the centuries have come in clutches.In the seventeenth century there were the Jennings

sisters, one of whom became Duchess of Tyrconnel,and the other was the redoubtable Sarah Duchess ofMarlborough. In the eighteenth century there were thetwo Gunnings girls - Elizabeth was in turn Duchess ofHamilton and Duchess of Argyll, while her sister wasCountess of Coventry - followed by the Spencer girls,Georgiana Duchess of Devonshire and her sister LadyBessborough. Proceeding into the nineteenth century,we have the three grand daughters of Richard BrinsleySheridan (one of whom became Duchess of Somerset),all the seven Pattle girls - whose descendants includeVirginia Woolf and the next Duke of Beaufort — andright at the end of the century, the Tennant sisters fromScotland, includ ing Margot Asquith and two still alive,Baroness Elliot of Harewood, d.b.e., and LadyWakehurst, d.b.e. The present-day representatives ofthis pattern are a hectic group of brilliant beautifulsisters, the Mitfords.

The unorthodox upbringing of the Mitford girls in ahousehold dominated by an explosive reactionary fatherand a vague compliant mother has been vividly narratedby two of the sisters: the nursery managed to produce afamily of strong individuals, including one Communist,

one Fascist, and eventually one duchess. The lateNancy Mitford made her name as novelist andbiographer. Jessica Mitford emigrated to the UnitedStates, and has written a number of success ful books.Unity was a personal friend of Hitler, and Dianamarried Sir Oswald Mosley. The fifth, "Debo", isDuchess of Devonshire.

"Debo" decided at the age of eleven, according tosister Jessica's account, that she would marry a duke.While the other girls prayed that "Mr Right" wouldcome along, she reserved her prayers for the "Duke ofRight".* Thanks to Nancy, who clearly used her as amodel for Linda in The Pursuit of Love, the Duchessis better known than almost any of her rank alive today.We know that she is senti mental and romantic. She isastonishingly beautiful, with cornflower- blue eyes thatbewitch the least impressionable.

The Devonshires have a son and two daughters (oneof whom has married into the ubiquitous Tennantfamily), and they live at Chatsworth, now a muchquieter house. Seven gamekeepers are still employedthere, and a domestic staff of fifteen, but over three-quarters of the house, a magnificent seventeenth-

century mansion, is left alone for the public to enjoy.We tend to think of the "Stately Home business" as atwentieth-century necessity, but Chatsworth has beenopen to the public consistently since the eighteenthcentury. The archives are among the best kept in thecountry, and accommodate an endless stream ofstudents. The Duke and Duchess have a floor tothemselves, including two small but exquisite sitting-rooms in which they have kept alive the spirit ofGeorgiana. The rooms are decorated in precisely thestyle Georgiana would recognise, and, apart from aDomenichino cartoon and a Poussin, are hung withpictures of her and her contemporaries. Georgianaspent more time in London than at Chatsworth, but nomatter, it is at Chatsworth that her presence is still felt.

At the coronation of 1953 "Debo"Devonshire wore Duchess Georgiana'seighteenth-century robes.

* * ** It is fair to point out that when she married

Captain Lord Andrew Cavendish he was the second son,and was not expected to inherit the titles.

The Duke of Devonshire is descendedfrom the second son of Bess of Hardwickby Sir William Cavendish. Their third son,Charles, went to Welbeck Abbey and wasthe father of the Duke of Newcastle in theCavendish family.*

The brother of the 1st Duke ofNewcastle was the famous mathe maticianSir Charles Cavendish, of Welbeck Abbey,and the wife of the 2 nd Duke was an evenmore famous writer - MargaretCaven dish, Duchess of Newcastle (1624-1674). Sneered at by Walpole. whodismissed her as a "fertile pedant", theDuchess was highly regarded in her owntime, and objective critics consider that herbio graphy of her husband is very fine.Her output was enormous, includ ingpoetry, plays, and prose works, and mostof her books are now extremely rare. Shehad an additional reputation for madness,fostered by her penchant for appearing intheatrical costume at the least appropriatetime, and by her outrageously affectedmanners. Saner than many of herdetractors, the Duchess was guilty of little

more than a flair for display. There was noson and heir, so that the dukedom becameextinct, but her daughter Henrietta marriedEdward Harley, Earl of Oxford, and thismarriage also produced a female heir,Margaret, who in 1734 married the 2ndDuke of Portland. Thus it was that theDukes of Portland became owners ofWelbeck Abbey, and of the Harleyproperties in London, which span an areaof Marylebone now spattered with streetnames which recall this complicated past -Harley Street, Welbeck Street, CavendishSquare, Portland Place, Great TitchfieldStreet (the Duke of Port land's second titleis Marquess of Titchfield). Not only that,but it means the blood of MargaretCavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, flowsin the veins of the Duke of Portland.

The dukedom of Portland had beenconferred upon the Bentinck family in 1716in recognition of the capital role played bythe 1st Duke's father, Hans WilhelmBentinck, in post-Stuart England. Thestory of the close friendship betweenWilliam III and his protege Hans Bentinckprovides an intriguing chapter in thehistory of the British monarchy.

Hans Bentinck (1649-1709) was the sonof a Dutch nobleman (the family continuesin Holland today), who first came to theatten tion of the Prince of Orange in 1664,when he was fourteen years

*The seventeenth-century Duke of Newcastle was aCavendish; the modern Duke of Newcastle is a Pelham-Clinton-Hope, and belongs to another chapter. They havenothing to do with one another. The first was Duke ofNewcastle-upon- Tyne, the second is Duke of Newcastle-under-Lyme; the first line came to an end nearly 300 yearsago, the second was not created until 1756 and continuesinto modern times.

old and the Prince was fifteen. The Prince made Hanshis personal Page of Honour, and later a Nobleman ofthe Chamber. Bentinck was ravishingly beautiful, andpossessed the rare virtue of constancy. The friendshipthus begun in adolescence lasted an entire lifetime,surviving the onslaughts of jealousy, the competition ofmarriage, and the resentment of the House ofCommons.

When they were both young men there occurred a

critical event which was to secure the importance oftheir relationship. The Prince of Orange nearly died ofsmallpox, and were it not for the selfless attentions ofHans Bentinck he would almost certainly havesuc cumbed. Hans slept with the Prince for sixteendays and nights, not daring to leave his side, in anattempt to absorb into his own body some of the feverwhich threatened his friend's life. It was an act ofcourage and devotion, and it worked. Hans did catchthe fever, but both men survived, and the affectionwhich bound them grew stronger as a result.

Hans was frequently sent to the Court of St James asWilliam's personal envoy. It was he who negotiatedWilliam's marriage to Princess Mary of York, he whowas instrumental in having the throne of England offeredto William, he who was the Prince's most intimatecounsellor. When William became King of England in1689, Hans came to England with him, and establishedhere the noble family of Bentinck.The King hadmanifest reasons to be thankful, and was lavish in hisdemonstrations of gratitude. A few days before hiscoronation he created his friend Earl of Portland in thepeerage of England, and granted him lands too

numerous to count. The flow of gifts to Bentinck hardlyabated in the years to come, so that he was in time therichest subject in Europe. Unfortunately, Bentinck hadneither the grace nor tact to acknowledge that themassive bestowal of gifts in his receptive lap mightlegitimately arouse the jealousy of the English, no matterhow much he may have deserved them. He was, afterall, a foreigner, yet he came into possession of moreEnglish lands than any Englishman. He showed none ofthe deferential politeness that one might expect from aguest in the country, but on the contrary flaunted hisnew wealth, exploited his closeness to the King, andtreated the English with lofty disdain. He did not carefor the English, and made no attempt to ingratiatehimself. Conse quently, they did not care for him.Everyone recognised and applauded his integrity, hisdevotion to the King, his pellucid honesty, but theEnglish wished that he would learn to flatter (an artwhich they had been busy perfecting through centuriesof Court life), and would try a little harder to dissemble.He did not dissemble at all, and was profoundlyunpopular. Even in his native Holland he wasconsidered a foreigner now; he conspicuously lacked

the dexterity to appear sympathetic.There was a rumour that the King intended to create

Bentinck Duke of Buckingham, which would have beenasking for trouble. Already singularly disliked by theHouse of Commons, he would have exacerbated theirmistrust by bearing the title created by James I for hislover George Villiers, and the plan was mercifullydropped. The Bentinck family had to wait until thesecond generation for their dukedom, conferred byGeorge I in 1716.

Surprisingly for one with such feeling for friendship,Bentinck showed few discernible signs of emotion.Marlborough called him "a wooden fellow", andsubsequent cartoons of his descendants have depictedthem as blocks of Portland stone. Swift said unkindlythat he was "as great a Dunce as ever I knew", butSwift was most likely venting spleen; for Bentinck wasno fool.

At least his beauty was acknowledged by all, and hisdevotion to the King hardly in question. He was at theKing's side on the death of Queen Mary, and with himat the disclosure of the assassination plot in 1696. Hisaffection was real and not motivated by self- interest. It

wavered only once, when William's attentions becameengaged by a new favourite, Arnold van Keppel

(created Earl of Albermarle).[7] Keppel's softer, morecapricious nature captivated the King, who granted himfavours which provoked a jealous rage in Bentinck ofsuch ferocity that he seemed a different person. Hiscustomary cold control suddenly evaporated into asulky sullenness. Quarrels erupted daily at Court,where Bentinck's naked nerves sparked scenes of loftypetulance, and the bluntness of hurt pride. He repelledWilliam's attempts to make amends, refused to take hisseat in the royal coach, and eventually resigned all hisoffices in a fit of umbrage. The King attempted todissuade him, but he was firm. What really offendedBentinck were the shortcomings in his own character,cruelly highlighted by the contrast with Keppel's gentlergraces, and about which he could do nothing. Hedeeply resented being passed over for being himself.He suffered the pain of rejection, in the knowledge thatit was not for faults committed, but for transi toryattractions with which he could not compete. Bentincktook refuge in an embassy in Paris, and William wrote

him an affection ate letter promising that his feelings forhim would continue until death. There are over 200 ofthese letters from the King, which amply testify to thegenerosity of their love.

The breach was not final. Bentinck was a close friendto the end of the King's life. On William's death-bed hislast words were to ask for Portland, who cameimmediately, gave William his hand, and, as Luttrell tellsus, the King "carried it to his heart with greattender ness".

Bentinck himself is buried in Westminster Abbey, asis his son, the 1st Duke of Portland (1682-1726). Itwas Bentinck's grandson, the 2nd Duke (1709-1762),who married the Cavendish and Harley heiress andmoved his principal seat from Bulstrode Park, Bucks,to Welbeck Abbey, Notts. Like father and grandfather,he too was a conspicuously beautiful man, "reported tobe the handsomest man in England". With Bentinck,Harley and Cavendish lands in his posses sion, hecould afford the luxury of indifference to favours, and issaid to have refused a position as Lord of theBedchamber, because it was inconvenient; but hethanked the King nonetheless.43

His son the 3rd Duke of Portland (1738-1809)consolidated the Cavendish connection by marryingDorothy Cavendish, daughter of the 4th Duke ofDevonshire, in 1766, and by changing his own name toCavendish-Bentinck in 1801. He was therefore thebrother-in-law of the 5th Duke of Devonshire(Georgiana's husband), and while Devonshire lived inDevonshire House, Piccadilly, Portland lived down theroad at Burlington House, another of his brother-in-law's properties.

The 3rd Duke was one of the best educated men inEngland, and the only member of the Bentinck family toassume high public office. He was Prime Minister in1783 and 1807-9, and Home Secretary from 1794-1801. It is for his work as Home Secretary that hisreputation should endure, for he belongs to the galleryof tolerant Englishmen who have helped establish theright to freedom of speech, not by noisy crusading, butby taking the principle for granted. As Home Secretaryhe had at his command vast arbitrary power which herefused to exert. He knew the value of leaving theexpression of opinion untrammelled, and hisachievement was quietly and stub bornly to show

respect for it against the more vociferous will of angrymen. As Prime Minister he was less than successful. Hehad integrity and honour, but none of the roughruthlessness that it takes to be a leader. His intentionswere good, but weak his ability to push them.Consequently, he was regarded as a mere cypher.When he accepted the Premiership in 1807 it was witha reluctant heart, out of a sense of public duty. He wasalready old and gouty, feeble and unequal to the strain.The duel between Canning and Castlereagh onWimbledon Common took place during hisgovernment, and the dis honour and scandal were toomuch for him. He resigned in October 1809 and diedthe same month.

Walpole was scornful of him. In 1782, before his firstPremiership and when he was virtually unknown,Walpole wrote, "He has lived in Ducal dudgeon withhalf-a-dozen toad-eaters secluded from mankindbehind the ramparts of Burlington wall. ... It is veryentertaining that two or three great families shouldpersuade themselves that they have an hereditary andexclusive right of giving us a lead without a tongue."14

Lady Elizabeth Holland was even less fair. "Of all the

truly contemptible public characters in England amongmany", she wrote in her Journal, "surely his Grace ofPortland stands the fore most; his friends even dare notsay a word in his behalf."45 While it is possible toaccuse the 3rd Duke of lack of vigour, it is difficult tofind anything contemptible in his career. Lady Elizabethdid not explain herself.

An interesting point is that his grandson, C. W. F.Bentinck, was grandfather to Queen Elizabeth theQueen Mother. The 3rd Duke of Portland is thereforean ancestor of Queen Elizabeth II.

The 4th Duke of Portland (1768-1854), whosecretly bought Hughenden for Disraeli in 1847 so thatthe politician should have a house commensurate withhis ambitions, had four sons. The heir died at the age oftwenty-eight, leaving three confirmed bachelors. "Noneof the three Bentinck brothers was married, and noneof them was likely to marry", wrote Lady Londonderry,without further comment. The three were Lord GeorgeBentinck, Lord Henry Bentinck, and the strange manwho was to succeed as 5th Duke of Portland.

Apart from a hopelessly romantic adorationconceived by Lord George Bentinck for the Duchess of

Richmond, the three brothers showed themselvesindifferent to marriage. The oddest of the three was the5th Duke of Portland, who succeeded to the title at theage of fifty-four, by which time he was clearlyestablished as a wild eccentric.

To begin with, the 5th Duke of Portland (1800-1879) dressed in a peculiar fashion. Whatever theweather, his trousers were secured a few inches abovethe ankle by a piece of old string, tied tight. In everyseason he carried an old umbrella, and a coat wasalways slung over his arm. The umbrella and coat werenot intended to protect him from rain, but from the gazeof curious people. If anyone looked at him, he hidhimself beneath the umbrella, and wrapped the hugecoat around him. He was seen in sweltering summerwearing a heavy sable coat which touched theground.46 He bought three frock-coats at a time, ofdifferent sizes, so that he could wear one over theother. He habitually wore an old-fashioned wig. One ofhis rooms at Welbeck Abbey was lined with cupboardsreaching floor to ceiling, and packed with green boxes,each containing a dark brown wig.47 On top of the longwig he wore a hat, two feet high.

Thus attired, he would walk on his estates, avoidingeveryone. He was never seen at Court, and nevermingled in society. He appears to have been entirelyfriendless. Even his solicitors were not permitted aninterview with him. None of his tenants, labourers, orservants was allowed to speak to him or acknowledgehis presence in any way. The man who dared to touchhis hat would be dismissed immediately. The sameorders applied to the parson. Everyone at Welbeckhad instructions that, if they chanced upon the Duke,they were to pass him by "as they would a tree".48

He inherited from his mother this peculiarity that hewould not be seen by anyone. If he gave permission foranyone to visit Welbeck, he would always make acondition that "Mr So-and-So will be good enough notto see me". When he drove out, it was alone, in a blackcarriage, like a hearse, drawn by black horses, with allthe blinds down. He had another carriage drawn byponies, and driven by boys, but it also was draped inthick curtains. When he went to London, he did notleave his carriage; it was placed, with him inside, on arailway truck, unloaded at the London terminus, anddriven to his house in Cavendish Square. The servants

were naturally ordered out of the way, so that nobodysaw him arrive or leave, and no one saw him while hewas there. If he needed a doctor, the man would not beallowed to come any nearer than the door, where hecould ask whatever questions he needed to ask of thevalet, who then reported them to the Duke, andreported the Duke's answers to the doctor. Only thevalet was allowed to feel the ducal pulse. If he wentwalking at night at Welbeck, it was with a womancompanion, who had instructions never to speak tohim, and to walk exactly forty yards ahead of him,carrying a lantern. The Duke spent a great deal ofmoney making Welbeck a splen did palace in which toentertain on a grand scale, but never invited anyone. Helived in a small suite of rooms tucked away in a cornerof the vast house, and had a letter-box put in hisbedroom door, so that he need never be disturbed. Hisdaily meal was a chicken, killed in the morning. He atehalf of it for lunch, and the other half for dinner. In thekitchen there was a chicken perpetually on a roasting-spit, day after day for years, so that one would beready for him when ever he rang for it.48 The roastchicken would then be placed in a lift, transported in a

heated truck on rails along a tunnel 150 yards to hisrooms.

So obsessive did his need for privacy become thatthe Duke spent the last years of his life, and aconsiderable part of his fortune, in converting WelbeckAbbey in such a way that all rooms would beunderground. Like a shy mole, he burrowed deeperand deeper to avoid the daylight. The subterraneanrooms are still there. They were approached by a singleflight of stairs from the long tunnel which formed part offifteen miles of tunnelling. There was a huge library, abilliard-room capable of holding half a dozen billiardtables, and the largest ballroom in the country, capableof holding 2000 people comfortably. This wasapproached from above, as a great lift descended fromthe ceiling, and twenty people at a time could be thuslowered into the ballroom (though one can hardlyimagine anyone wanting to be). Through a staircase inthe ceiling of another room was the riding-school, thesecond largest in the world, lit by 8000 jets of gas, anexercising ground under glass, and a gallop of straw aquarter of a mile long. Another tunnel, 200 yards long,led to a suite of rooms covering four acres, and another

to the stables, cow-houses and dairies. The gardencovered thirty acres, and required fifty-three gardeners.There were eighty keepers in the dairies, and forty-fivegrooms in the stables. When the Duke died, ninety-fourhorses were in the underground stables.

There was even a private tunnel from the house toWorksop, one and a quarter miles long, wide enoughfor two carriages. In short, there was really no need forthe Duke to be seen by anyone at any time, and hesucceeded in his passion for anonymity better than anyother ducal recluse.

For all this, however eccentric his behaviour, the 5thDuke of Portland was one of the better landlords. Hewas generous to his tenants and staff, providing alwaysthey took care not to treat him with respect, and gavean enormous amount of his money to charity. He built askating-rink for the staff, and the poor maids wereobliged to skate from time to time whether they wantedto or not. His one reprehensible act was to make abonfire of some of his pictures, worth several thousandpounds, because he deemed them inadequate to thegrandeur of the underground palace he was build ing.But he was clearly mentally unbalanced.

The work kept over 500 masons busy for years, andthe end result was quirky, dismal, impressive and cold.Augustus Hare wrote: "All is vast, splendid and utterlycomfortless: one could imagine no more awful andghastly fate than waking up one day and finding oneselfDuke of Portland and master of Welbeck."60

Unfortunately for the Portland family, there was onewoman in England who dreamed precisely of wakingup and finding herself mistress of Welbeck, and sopowerful did her fantasy become that she grew tobelieve in it. Her persistence led to one of the mostcurious cases in the history of litigation, in which herfamily attempted to prove that the Duke of Portlandhad been leading a double life, that he had managed ashop in Baker Street for years, and that he had a sonand heir living in Baker Street who should succeed tothe dukedom. The lady who initiated this extravagantfarce was a Mrs Druce.

In 1896 the Home Secretary received a curiousapplication from one Mrs Anna Maria Druce, of 68Baker Street, London, asking for permission to open acoffin at Highgate Cemetery. Mrs Druce claimed thatthe coffin, which was supposed to contain the body of

her husband, T. C. Druce, was in fact empty, that thefuneral of T. C. Druce in 1864 had been an elaboratepretence, and that her husband had continued to liveuntil 1879 in his "other role" as the Duke of Portland.Consequently, she was in truth the Duchess ofPortland, and her son should now be restored to hisrightful inheri tance as the Duke. The revelation of theempty coffin would show that T. C. Druce and theDuke of Portland were one and the same man.

More than ten years were to elapse before MrsDruce's wish was granted, by which time she had beenswept off the stage by the rush of events, and her placetaken by more resourceful men. At the begin ning, shewas a lone crusader, appealing to the House of Lords,battling resolutely against all the obstacles whichbureaucracy could hurl in her path. Her case was givenimpetus by the discovery that, when another member ofthe Druce family had been buried in 1893 in the familyvault, the coffin containing T. C. Druce was seen tohave caved in under the weight of the coffin above it,strongly sug gesting that it might be empty. Thenewspapers relished the chance to celebrate the lonelyfight of a poor downtrodden old woman against the

mighty millions of a landed aristocrat, and the case wasdiscussed for so many years before it reached thecourts that there was barely a literate person in thecountry who did not know about the Druce-Portlandcase. By constant repetition, the lady's claims gatheredsupport, while the 6th Duke kept a careful silence.

The case would never have gone so far were it notfor the fact that the 5th Duke of Portland's habits wereso odd, his secrecy so total.It was perfectly possible that he had been leading adouble life. He had no friends, so there was no one tosay exactly what he looked like. He was not seen, sothere were few to say exactly where he was. When hiscarriage was taken off the train in London and driven,with blinds drawn, to his London house, no one actuallysaw him get in it, travel in it, or get out of it. What wasthere to prevent his sneaking out of the railway stationand walking down to Baker Street to assume his otheridentity as a shop-owner? If anyone wanted to lead adouble life, nobody was better placed to achieve it thanthe 5th Duke of Portland. And the Duke was preciselythat kind of eccentric to whom such an idea mightappeal. Rumours had been flying around London for

years that the Duke had something to hide, and it wascommon gossip in Baker Street that Mr Druce's funeralin 1864 had been false, long before Mrs Druce thoughtshe was the Duchess of Portland. She merely gatheredthe rumours together and made use of them, notwithout a touch of genius.

The mass of circumstantial evidence which stronglysuggested that the Duke and the shopkeeper were thesame person was set out in a pamphlet called Claim tothe Portland Millions: Was Druce the Duke? In it,the list of similarities of habit which linked the two menwas striking. They were both secretive, both travelledin a closed carriage, and both made their coachmanswear not to reveal where they went. They both had apassion for building underground. They both wore agreat variety of wigs. They were both profoundlyanti social. They were fastidious, methodical, cautiousand suspicious. They both had a skin complaint, andavoided the sunlight as a result. (This was anotherreason for the Duke's perpetual umbrella.) They bothloathed to be acknowledged or saluted.

Furthermore, there were astonishing coincidences oftiming in the events of their lives. In the first place, the

Duke had not been present at the funeral of his father,the 4th Duke, in 1854; every male relation had beenpresent but his successor. Was he in Baker Street atthe time? Between 1816 and 1820 there were norecords of the activities of the Duke, but plenty ofevidence relating to T. C. Druce. Between 1820 and1835, T. C. Druce disappears from view, but theDuke's activities are recorded. From 1835 to 1864 theprocess is again reversed, with the Duke in oblivion,and T. C. Druce on record. T. C. Druce was alleged tohave died in 1864; from 1864 to 1879 there is thefrantic building at Welbeck for which the Duke isfamous, and everyone knows where he is.

With these subtle coincidences, Mrs Druce hadnothing to do. She knew only that she was theDuchess, and that no one would believe her. Under thestrain of constant complicated litigation over a num berof years, her mind lost its balance. She would go toHighgate Cemetery every day, accompanied by amining engineer, because she suspected that one of heropponents was about to remove the coffinsurreptitiously. Her delusions multiplied, until she wasremoved, in 1903, to a mental home, after which

nothing more is heard of her. There was now someoneelse to take control of the torrent she had unleashed.

Mr G. H. Druce came to London from Australia(where news of the fascinating case had filled pages ofnewsprint, as it had in all parts of the world) to revealthat he was the son of T. C. Druce by an earliermarriage, and that he was therefore the rightful Duke ofPortland. He went into the fray with style; he formedcompanies, including G. H. Druce Ltd, the Druce-Portland Company and the New Druce-PortlandCompany, in which he invited the public to buy shares,pointing out that each investor would receive a profit of6,400 per cent when Druce came into the Portlandfortune. Sub scriptions flowed in daily. Eventually, G.H. Druce brought a charge of perjury against anothermember of the Druce family (who stead fastlymaintained that his father had died in 1864, and wasburied at Highgate, and who objected to all the fuss),and the whole matter finally reached trial in the autumnof 1907.

The trial was a compulsive drug. Half the aristocraticladies of London were present, and the Duke ofPortland sat silently through out. The public wanted the

"underdog" to win, and the evidence clearly implied thathe might.

His chief witness was a Mr Caldwell, who camefrom the United States to testify. Mr Caldwell hadsuffered from a skin disease, and had come to Londonto be treated by the late Sir Morell Mackenzie, whohad introduced him to the Duke of Portland. The Dukesuffered from a similar complaint, which Caldwell wasable to cure for him. In consequence of this, an intimacygrew between them, and the Duke had confided toCaldwell that he led a dual existence. Caldwell hadaccompanied him to the Baker Street Bazaar, where heassumed his Druce identity, and had also seen himfrequently at Welbeck. In 1864 the Duke had said thathe was tired of the game, and wanted to devote himselffull-time to his building at Welbeck. He thereforedetermined that T. C. Druce should "die", and askedCaldwell to help him stage a mock funeral. Caldwellhad helped weigh the coffin down with lead.Afterwards the Duke returned to Welbeck, and T. C.Druce was forgotten (though some people claimed tohave seen "T. C. Druce" in London after 1864).

The second key witness was Miss Robinson, who had

been a "friend and typist" to the Duke, alias Druce, andwas privy to the secret of the double identity. She hadrecorded the whole story, day by day, in her diary.Unfortunately, a few months before the trial, when thenews of her diary and the definitive proof it containedhad reached the newspapers, a man had snatched herhandbag in the street, and stolen the diary. Since herarrival from New Zealand she had already beenrobbed five times, and had lost in this way someprivate letters from the Duke. It was strongly impliedthat someone was frightened enough to go to greatlengths to destroy the evidence. But she had made acopy of the diary before the theft, and that was whatshe proposed to use in court. It later came out, andtaused a sensation, that the Duke of Portland and hisagents had indeed employed private investigators totrack down information, and that these sleuths had onoccasion exceeded their instructions. This wastantamount to an admission that Miss Robinson's diaryhad been snatched by agents of the 6th Duke ofPortland, who risked losing his title and his fortune ifthe case were proven in favour of G. H. Druce.The trial was not only momentous, but hilarious. The

judge's dry wit would not allow the proceedings toassume the gravity that Druce's counsel wished toimpose, and hardly a day passed by without the courterupting into laughter. Many hours were spentdiscussing the late Duke's skin complaint, which was abulbous nose with two warts upon it, and everyattempt to get Mr Caldwell to release the secret of histreatment to the nose was a failure. He would notreveal the secret to the medical faculty. He had beenpaid, he said, £10,000 for the cure, which the Dukegave him in £500 notes. Why was there no trace ofthem in his bank? Because he had pinned them to hisshirt! If the Duke had wanted to pay by cheque,Caldwell would have refused to accept it. Caldwelltestified that he had visited Welbeck through a tunnelfrom Worksop over a mile long, but counselsuccess fully pointed out that the tunnel had not beenbuilt until years after wards, which made Caldwell'sclaim impossible to substantiate. There was a greatdeal more of Caldwell's evidence which wasquestionable, and his counsel, at the end of the case forthe prosecution, provided a sensation by disowninghim. It transpired that Caldwell had made a habit of

appearing at such trials, and had lied his way throughthem all. He was described in court as "the mostnoxious perjurer that ever polluted the fountain ofjustice", at which florid prose more laughter ensued.He was later certified insane, and died in an asylum in1911.61

Miss Robinson was demolished by ridicule.Everyone knew that all her documents had been "lost"or "stolen", and the judge would not admit the "copy"of her diary as evidence. She showed the court giftswhich were presented to her by the Duke alias Druce,and much fun was had by counsel over their safety.

- Have you the brooch you spoke ofthe Duke giving you ?

- Yes, I am wearing it, but I am not going to take itoff. I have had several things stolen already{Laughter).

- Have you any objection to showingit to the magistrate ?

The witness then stood up for themagistrate, and eventually took

it off for him to see.

- Did he give you a ring ?

- Yes.

- You will not trust my friend with thebrooch ?

- No {Laughter).- Will you let Mr Avory see it ? I will be surety for

him.52

The ring and the brooch were discovered to be cheaprubbish that one might find at a fairground, and MissRobinson further admitted under cross-examination thatshe had been paid £250 to give her evidence. One ofthe biggest laughs of the trial occurred when anotherwitness recalled having seen Miss Robinson's famousdiary; she had shown it to her on the boat coming fromNew Zealand. Witness said that it was odd-looking,and that it looked as if it had come out of the Ark."That would account for the watermark," ventured thejudge.5'

On 30th December 1907 the coffin was eventuallyopened, and T. C. Druce's remains found to be in it.Thus eleven years of legal wrestling and speculationcollapsed like a broken biscuit. Several of the witnesses(we have only mentioned the two principal here) weresubsequently tried for perjury, and imprisoned. The 6thDuke of Portland continued to live at Welbeck, and theDruce descendants in Baker Street. The judge in hissumming-up commented, "Sufficient to say that thiscase is an illustration of that love of the marvellouswhich is so deeply ingrained in human nature, and islikely to be remembered in legal annals as affording onemore striking proof of the unfathomable depths ofhuman credulity."51

Nevertheless, one mystery remained, and was thesubject of some correspondence in The Times. In1864, when T. C. Druce died, he was alleged to beseventy-one years old, and such is the record on thetombstone. The Duke of Portland was then sixty-four.According to the census returns, T. C. Druce in 1861was sixty-two years old, which would make him sixty-four or sixty-five at death, not seventy- one.

The eccentric invisible old Duke died in

1879, and was buried, according to hiswish, in Kensal Green Cemetery in NorthLondon, as anonymously as possible. Nofuss, no parade, no crowds. Now, the tombis completely obliterated by shrubs whichhe ordered to be planted there. He is asmysterious in death as he was in life. Ashe died childless, the London properties ofMarylebone (Harley Street, WelbeckStreet, etc.) devolved upon his sisters, oneof whom married the Baron Howard deWalden, whose descendant is the presentowner.

The 6th Duke of Portland (1857-1943)was a cousin of his predecessor, whom hehad never met. He distinguished himself inpolitics, in literature, and in the army. Oneof his books, Men, Women and Things,though lacking the discipline of selection,is written in a chaste pleasing style. Hehad a firmly sensible attitude towards thechanging times; he decided to move out ofWelbeck Abbey long before many of hisducal cousins had abandoned theiralbatrosses, and built for himself a smallercomfortable house on the estate. Thesubterranean palace did not appeal to himanyway. His attitude towards his tenants,

kindly and charming, was however feudalin its condescension. His duchess, whohad been a real beauty and who surviveduntil 1954, once lost her way in Londonand had to ask a policeman where she was.When he told her, she said, "The City? Ihave only been here in processions."55

Rather better known than the Duke, andquite a different character, was his bizarre,flamboyant sister, born OttolineCavendish-Bentinck but always known asLady Ottoline Morrell, the feathered centreof the Bloomsbury set.

The Duke died in 1943 and wassucceeded by his son, the 7th Duke ofPortland, whom the Duke of Bedford hasdescribed as "a pompous-looking manwith a moustache".56 He sat in the Houseof Commons for twenty years as LordTitchfield, and was twice a junior minister.He was a Knight of the Garter, LordLieutenant of Nottingham, and Chairmanof the Royal Society for the Prevention ofCruelty to Children. His brother, LordMorven Cavendish- Bentinck, was quite awell-known concert pianist.'Chopper'Portland died in 1978. His widow, nee Ivy

Gordon- Lennox, is descended fromCharles II through three different lines, byNell Gwynn, by Louis de Keroualle, and byBarbara Villiers (see Chapter 2). ThePortlands had two daughters, but no sons,which meant that the dukedom passed to akinsman who traced his descent from the3rd Duke. Ferdinand Cavendish-Bentinck,8th Duke of Portland, lived in East Africafrom 1925 and was Speaker of theLegislative Assembly in Kenya beforeIndependence. When Member forAgriculture in the Legislative Council hewas responsible for the establishment ofthe glorious game parks there.

The present Duke is his brother, William Cavendish-Bentinck, who joined the Foreign Service in 1919.After serving in various posts, he was Chairman of theJoint Intelligence Sub-Committee of the Chiefs of Staffand Foreign Office Adviser to the Directors of Plansfrom 1939 to 1945, and then Ambassador to Polandin the difficult years after 1945. Since 1947 he hasbeen Director of various companies in the U.K. andabroad and is now Chairman of Bayer UK Limited,also President of the British Nuclear Forum.

By the financial arrangements which 'Chopper'Portland made he stripped the title of all assets, andspecifically excluded the present Duke and his brotherfrom all benefit; they did not receive, and can neverreceive, a penny from the ducal estates, nor enjoy anyof the heirlooms which have passed down from theircommon ancestor.As the Duke's son predeceased him, the dukedom willend with the present generation. The Portland title,however, can continue under a different rank. The 1stDuke was the son of Hans Bentinck, created Earl ofPortland by his friend, William of Orange. By hissecond marriage, Hans Bentinck had another son,whose direct descendant is Count Henry Bentinck, aCount of the Holy Roman Empire who was woundedand taken prisoner in the Second World War. CountHenry Bentinck now lives quietly in Devon. His son isan actor. The day will come when he can claim theearldom of Portland.

REFERENCES

1 . Complete Peerage.2. White Kennet, Sermon at the Funeral of WilliamDuke of

Devonshire(1707),

p.47.

3. Walpole, XX,66.

4. John Timbs, English Eccentrics andEccentricities (1866), Vol.

I, p.142

5. Brougham, Lives of Philosophers of the Time ofGeorge III

(1846).6. Timbs, p.

143.7. ibid.,p. 146.8. Dorothy Stuart, Dearest Bess, p.

143.9. Elizabeth Jenkins, Lady Caroline Lamb.

10. Wraxall, Posthumous Memoirs, Vol. i,p. 9.

11. Walpole, XXV, 411.

12. Wraxall, op. cit., p. 7.

13. Jenkins, op. cit., p. 12.

14. ed. The Earl of Ilchester, Georgiana,p. 23.

15. ibid., p. 97.

16. W. M. Thackeray, The Four Georges, p. 60.17. Georgiana, p. 120. 18. ibid., p.189, 196.

19. D.N.B.

20. Dearest Bess, pp. 32-3. 21. ibid., p.44.

22. Greville, V, 308.

23. Georgiana, pp. 59,63,69, 77.

24. Dearest Bess, p. 12.25. Journal of Elizabeth Lady Holland,Vol. I, p. 244.

26. Georgiana, p. 281. 27. ibid., p. 10.

28. Dearest Bess, p. 169.29. Lady Holland to Her Son, p. 18.

30. Devonshire Collections, PaxtonLetters, 5, 19.

31. E. F. Benson, As We Were, p. 177. 32. ibid., p. 176.

33. Margaret Asquith, Autobiography, p.94.

34. Duke of Portland, Men, Women andThings, p. 187.

35. Anita Leslie, Edwardians in Love, p.314.

36. E. F- Benson, op. cit., pp. 174, 175.

37. Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan, TheGlitter and the Gold, p. 107.

38. E. F. Benson, op. cit., p. 177.

39. Countess of Warwick, Afterthoughts,p. 77.

40. Margot Asquith, Autobiography, p.93.

41. Chips Channon, Diaries, p. 450.

42. Jessica Mitford, Hons and Rebels, p.104.

43. Lord Hervey and His Friends, p. 216.44. Walpole (ed. Cunningham), Vol. VIII,p. 253.

45. Journal of Elizabeth Lady Holland,Vol. I, p. 182.

46. William Day, Reminiscences of the Turf, p. 136.47. Duke of Portland, Men, Women andThings, p. 36.

48. Daily Chronicle, 15 March 1898; TheTimes, 8 December 1879.

49. Duke of Portland, op. cit., p. 34.

50. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life,p. 178.

51. Theodore Besterman, The Druce-

Portland Case, pp. 78-9, 204,

216, 272.52. ibid., 133. 53. ibid., 100. 54.ibid., 268.

55. Chips Channon, Diaries, p. 468.Dukeof Bedford, A Silver-plated Spoon, p. 119.

5. The Master

Duke of Beaufort

"I say that if these Bills are passed and the sound of thehorn and the cry of the hounds are not again to beheard, it will be the worst thing ever to happen in thiscountry." So spoke the distinctive hyperbolic voice ofSir Henry FitzRoy Somerset, ioth Duke of Beaufort,k.g., p.c., G.C.V.O., Master of the Queen's Horse, andthe greatest fox- hunter of the twentieth century.

Foxhunting is not to the dukes of Beaufort a hobby, apastime, a sport; it is a way of life, it is the very colourand sound of life itself. For more than 200 yearssuccessive dukes of Beaufort have hunted six days aweek during the season. They have established the huntwhich bears their name, the Beaufort Hunt, as the best,with the best pack of hounds in the world. It is anachievement of which they can with just cause beproud, an achievement symbolised by the registration

number on the late Duke's car - MFH 1; he wasbeyond question the foremost Master of Fox Hounds inthe country. In Gloucestershire, where his estate,Badminton, dominates the sur rounding country, theDuke was known to everyone, family, friends, tenants,and strangers, not as "Your Grace" or "Duke", but as"Master". Even Queen Mary would call him nothingelse. So one can well understand that the sound of thehorn was music to his ears, and the excitement of thechase food for his blood; a life without foxhuntingwould not have been an unimaginable catastrophe tohim; it did not bear contemplation.

The Duke of Beaufort was known also to the publicas a close friend of the Royal Family. The Queen andother members of the Royal Family habitually stay atBadminton for the world-famous three-day event, theBadminton Horse Trials, initiated by the late Duke in1949, and since risen to become the most highlyesteemed horse event of the calendar. The Queen isknown to have said that she is never happier than whenshe can stay at Badminton, and Queen Mary stayedthere for the whole of World War II, descend ing uponthe house in full convoy in 1939, and living there for the

next five years. Queen Mary was the Duchess ofBeaufort's aunt who was therefore descended directlyfrom George III, and a member of the "old" RoyalFamily, as opposed to the "new" Royal Familyrepresented by Queen Victoria, from whom ElizabethII is descended.

Byt Beaufort's connection with royalty goes backmuch farther than that, as he represents the only directPlantagenet line left today, though from illegitimatestock. (The last legitimate Plantagenet was the Earl ofWarwick who was executed in 1499.) The Duke'sancestor is John of Gaunt, son of King Edward III, thesame John of Gaunt to whom Shakespeare gave one ofhis most rousing patriotic orations, in Richard II.2 WhatShakespeare's play does not tell us is that John ofGaunt had four illegitimate children by KatherineSwynford, his mistress for twenty years, and to all fourhe gave the surname "Beaufort", after a castle which hisfamily had owned in the Cham pagne region of Francefor generations. One of these, John Beaufort, born in1372 or 1373, is the founder of the Beaufort family weknow. By the time he was twenty-four years old, hisfather had finally taken Katherine Swynford as his third

wife, and in 1396 Pope Boniface IX ratified themarriage retroactively, in order to legitimise theoffspring. Parliament assented to the legitimising of thefour Beaufort children on the strict condition that noneof them or their descendants should ever lay claim tothe throne; they were, of course, perilously close to it.The usurper King Henry IV (Bolingbroke), another sonof John of Gaunt, was their half-brother. With thisparliamentary caution in mind one writer has pointedout the irony that obtained in 1914, when all thecrowned heads in Europe, with the exception of theKing of Spain, were descended from John of Gauntand Katherine Swynford.3

John Beaufort was soon afterwards created Earl ofSomerset, in which title he was succeeded by hisbrother Henry, who died at seventeen. A third brotherassumed the mantle, and was advanced to the rank ofDuke of Somerset in 1443, with precedence above theDuke of Norfolk (of the Mowbray family; the firstHoward Duke of Norfolk was not for another fortyyears).

That a man with the surname of Somerset and thetitle of Beaufort may be descended from men with the

surname of Beaufort and the title of Somerset obviouslyrequires explanation, especially since the dukedom ofSomerset is now held by a man with the surname ofSeymour, who is no relation whatever to the presentDavid Somerset, Duke of Beaufort. The answer lies inanother illegitimacy and yet another invented surname.

The third Duke of Somerset, grandson of John ofGaunt, was attainted and beheaded in 1464. That wasthe end of the dukedom of Somerset in the Beaufortfamily; the title was recreated in 1547 for EdwardSeymour, and it has stayed with the Seymours eversince. Meanwhile, the last Beaufort Duke of Somersethad fathered a bastard son called Charles, whoadopted his father's title as a surname, and is thereforethe founder of the Somerset family; when his uncleEdmund Beaufort died in 1471 the Beaufort family assuch was extinct, and the new Somerset family began.Charles Somerset was a 2nd cousin of Henry VII,which may account for his being advanced in rank, inspite of his bastardy, to the title of Earl of Worcester.He married Elizabeth Herbert, daughter of the Earl ofHuntingdon, by which he acquired Raglan Castle inMonmouthshire, still in the possession of his

descendants.The 3rd Earl of Worcester, William Somerset,

played a key role in events which form the substanceof another chapter, for he was present at the trials ofboth Protector Somerset and the 4th Duke of Norfolk,those implacable rivals, and one of the small ironieswhich delight the amateur historian is that he was thefirst peer to cast his vote in 1551 for the condemnationof the Protector, who had usurped a title which hadpreviously belonged to his family. He also founded thefamily tradition of unswerving loyalty to the Crown,which has been observed with more or less fidelity byhis descendants. He had his own company of actors,but there is no evidence that this taste has beeninherited by subsequent generations. (The late Duke ofBeaufort celebrated his fortieth wedding anniversary in1964 by taking a coach-load to a Whitehall farce.)

The 4th Earl of Worcester (1553-1628), EdwardSomerset, consolidated the tradition of loyalty to theCrown with astonishing success. Though a Catholic, hewas an especial favourite with Elizabeth I, who trustedhim above many others, and with James I and CharlesI. His other contribution to family traditions was his love

for horses. He was the best horseman and tilter of hisgeneration,4 and his supremacy was recognised by theQueen when she made him Master of the Horse, a postpreviously held by her two loves, Lord Leicester andLord Essex. The Master of the Horse is one of theoldest offices under the Crown, and its holder isrequired to ride in attendance at every state procession.He is in charge of the royal stables and kennels, andhas the privilege of borrowing any of the monarch'shorses, grooms, or footmen, at his desire. The lateDuke of Beaufort, like his ancestor 400 years ago, wasMaster of the Horse, and no more appropriate personcould there have been for this office. It was his love forhorses that endeared Worcester to the new King,James I, who loved hunting, and who took Worcesterwith him on his expeditions. The King's reward for hiscompanionship was to grant him in 1607 ferry rightsover the River Severn from Aust to Chepstow, a rightstill possessed by his descendant. Until 1964, the Dukeleased this right to a ferry company, for a handsomefee. There was some fuss about compensation to theDuke when the Severn Bridge was opened, making hisferry rights obsolete, which is worth mentioning only to

correct a misapprehension held at the time. Leo Abse,m.p., objected to the principle of paying anycompensation, on the grounds that "the country paid aheavy enough price at the time to James I for thefavours he lavished on a series of handsome malefavourites".5 This, of course, is crass nonsense.Worcester was no "handsome male favourite". He wasfifty years old when James came to the throne, and theking a mere twenty-seven. It is hardly likely that hetook a fancy to old Worcester. Their relationship wasprofessional and friendly; Worcester acted as theKing's private secretary, and hunted with him regularly.The famous lovers, Robert Carr and George Villiers,came later.

The Earl was in favour with Charles I, who pushedhim a step further up the ladder by making himMarquess of Worcester for having contributed aconsiderable sum of money to the royal purse. With hisson, Edward Somerset, 2nd Marquess of Worcester(1601- 1667), the dukedoms of Somerset andBeaufort collide for the last time, to be sorted out andsent their separate ways once and for all.

In 1644 Charles I sent to Worcester a remarkable

document purporting to create him Duke of Somerset(the title had lain in abeyance since the death ofProtector Somerset), with power to create his ownpeerages, from a baronet to a marquess, and conferthem upon persons of his choice. He was to beGeneralissimo of three armies, and Admiral of the Fleetat sea, and he was promised the hand of the King'sdaughter in marriage. The full text of this document,now at Badminton, can be read in Collins's Peerage ofEngland, Vol. I, pages 206-7. It is now recognised tobe a forgery, but in the seventeenth century it was takenseriously enough for a Committee of the House ofLords to be convened to consider the matter. In 1660both Edward Somerset and William Seymour laid claimto the dukedom of Somerset, held by ancestors of themboth at different times. Edward Somerset's claim wasbased on this irregular patent, which had never receivedthe seal, and was little more than a private promise ofthe King's which was never ratified. The House ofLords decided against Edward Somerset for thisreason, and also because he was a Papist, andobnoxious to the people by virtue of that alone. It wasconcluded that a far better claim to the title was

possessed by William Seymour, who was thereuponrecognised as 2nd Duke of Somerset, while EdwardSomerset, Marquess of Worcester, withdrew his claim.Twenty-two years later, his son would be createdDuke of Beaufort, and the dispute would not again berevived.

Before we leave the Marquess, mention must bemade of his book A Century of Inventions, at onetime highly regarded, in which he tells of scores ofmachines he has constructed to perform impossibletasks, while neglecting to tell us how to construct themachines. One invention, the "hydraulic machine", wasthe subject of much specu lation; it has often beenclaimed that Worcester anticipated the steam-enginewith this machine by a couple of centuries, but thisclaim is not entertained by those who should know.

The man who was to become the 1st Duke ofBeaufort, taking his title from the surname his forbearshad carried, was Henry Somerset (1629-1700). It is tohim that the family owes Badminton, which he inheritedfrom his first cousin Elizabeth, grand-daughter of that4th Earl of Worcester who had been the best horsemanof his day, and who had bought Badminton from the

Boteler family in 11608. The dukedom was created in1682 "in consideration of noble descent from EdwardIII through John de Beaufort, son of John of Gaunt",conveniently ignoring the two illegitimacies on the way.The 1st Duke was a splendid man, and a circumspectdiplomatist. He managed prudently to survive theCromwellian period with honour, a period duringwhich, under Cromwell's influence, he dropped hiscourtesy title and was known as plain Mister. The twomen achieved some degree of compromise. In 1660,however, he was one of the twelve commonersdeputed to invite Charles II to return to the throne, andthereafter Beaufort's loyalty to the legitimate crown wasfirm. He was the first of the family to plunge headlonginto Tory principles so solid as to make it impossiblefor himself and all the dukes who followed him to thinkclearly about any alternative point of view. Mercifully,their Toryism has never collapsed into fantasy, as withthe 4th Duke of Newcastle for example, but it has beenrigid. The 1st Duke supported James II against theMonmouth rebellion in 1685, and was one of the twochief mourners at Charles II's funeral (along with, oddlyenough, the Duke of Somerset). He then was

consistently loyal to James II, opposing the factionwhich wanted to force abdication. He voted for aregency rather than for offering the crown to William ofOrange, which he thought un-English. This did not gounnoticed by William who, once on the throne,received him coldly and kept him waiting an hour in anante-room. Beaufort was unperturbed. He simplyrefused to give his oath of allegiance to King William,who in his view had no right to the throne of England.Later, the Duke and the King seem to have come to anunderstanding, though it is recorded that on oneoccasion when the King was a house-guest atBadminton, the domestic chaplain toasted the health ofthe King omitting to mention which one.7 Politically theDuke of Beaufort was the very opposite of theCavendishes, the Russells, and the Manners, all ofwhom founded ducal families. He was the highest ofhigh Tories, and his political predilection seems to havebeen absorbed in the genes of the family, for all theDukes of Beaufort have been uncompromising Toriesfrom childhood to the grave. It is a natural consequenceof their being country-bred foxhunters, and aninheritance from their Jacobite forefathers. The 2nd

Duke is said to have been so Tory that he refused tohave anything to do with the Court until 1710, when theTories were returned to power, at which point he loftilyannounced to the Queen that he could now call herQueen "in reality".8

From this point on, the Dukes of Beaufort retired tothe country and their hounds, steering clear of politicsand the metropolis, which they considered irretrievablystained by the corruption of Whiggery and radicalism.They sought no power, no place in history. It was as ifthey considered political life beneath their level, toosordid to warrant their interest. A typical politicalcomment is that of the 9th Duke, grandfather to thepresent Duke, who said he wished to see WinstonChurchill torn to pieces by his hounds.9Divorced fromthe mainstream of events, denying themselves thestimulation of town life, their intellectual developmentwas stifled, and they inevitably became stuffy,puritanical, dull. Writing in 1787, Walpole said that"there never was a Duke of Beaufort that made it worthknowing which Duke it was",10 and Lady Granville inthe next century found life at Badminton intolerably

boring. "So borne a set of minds I never met with", shewrote, "all the elans are kept for the hedges andditches."11 Examples of wit are as rare at Badminton asa Marxist tract. One joke has been recorded, attributedto Lord Charles Somerset (1767-1831), Governor ofthe Cape of Good Hope. He told a story about thenaturalist Sir Joseph Banks, who went round the worldwith Captain Cook. Banks was being polite to an Irishmerchant seaman, asking him where he had served. "Inthe East, sir." "Then doubtless, sir, you must have seena variety of very curious objects," said Banks. "Pray doallow me to ask you if you ever hap pened to see ablack cockatoo ?" "A black cockatoo, no Sir Joseph, Inever happened to see a black cockatoo," said theseaman, "but I'll tell you what, Sir Joseph, I have veryfrequently seen, a black cock or two."12

Some members of the family have embraced militarycareers, but their intellectual limitations have preventedtheir rising to positions of eminence or power. Onedisastrous exception achieved an unenviable place inhistory - Lord Fitzroy Somerset, youngest son of the5th Duke of Beaufort, who was ennobled in his ownright as Lord Raglan (1788-1855). This was the man

who gave the order for one of the most lamentableepisodes in our military annals, the Charge of the LightBrigade.

A picture has emerged in the course of these pagesof a courteous Tory family of high principles, farremoved from the rough and tumble of London life inwhich their political enemies, the Cavendishes and theRussells, gloried. While Georgiana Duchess ofDevonshire presided over a decadent city, gigglingheadlong into amoral intrigues, the Beaufort familyremained aloof and untainted in the pureGloucestershire air. That at least is the popularimpression. But it is by no means the whole truth. TheBeauforts were not only Tories of probity, foxhuntersof genius, loyal subjects of the realm. Some have beenvoluptuaries of distinction.

Long before the Devonshire House set established itseccentric code upon London life, there was a Duchessof Beaufort involved in the most unseemly scandalwhich culminated in unpleasant divorce proceedings.She was the Scudamore heiress, eventually mother (bya later marriage) of the mad Scudamore Duchess ofNorfolk who drove the poor amiable nth Duke of

Norfolk to distraction. She married the 3rd Duke ofBeaufort (1707-1745), about whom we know littlesave that he made Badminton what it is now, employingthe architect William Kent to enlarge and improve thehouse, and that he died at the age of thirty-seven.The Duke and Duchess of Beaufort did not have ahappy marriage. The Duchess wasted no time beforetaking a lover, choosing as her paramour anothermarried man, Lord Talbot. The couple were singularlyopen about their intrigue, and the Duke, at first,unusually taciturn. He said that he pitied Lord Talbot tohave met with two such tempers as their two wives."When the Duchess produced a child, which the worldwould regard as the Duke's, then was he obliged totake action. The divorce was heard in Doctors'Commons, and the details revealed were such as todelight the gossips. Walpole relished the case. "There iseverything proved to your heart's content", he wrote,"to the birth of the child, and much delectablereading."14The Duchess appears to have been totallyabandoned. It was stated that she and Lord Talbot"knew each other beside every green hedge, and underevery green tree".15 When the verdict was quite clearly

edging towards her conviction, she took a bold step.She said that the Duke was impotent.

It would have been easy for the Duke simply to denythe imputation, which would have left the matterunresolved, and presumably would not have affectedthe fact of his wife's adultery. But he was a brave man.He determined to prove her wrong. With no apparentcon sciousness of the high comedy of the situation, theDuke agreed to demonstrate his potency before a panelof medical men, including a Dr Meade, anotherphysician, three surgeons (though why their presencewas required is mysterious), and the Dean of theArches. The six eminent gentlemen proposed to inspectthe Duke's abilities in any place of public resort of hischoosing, but at this he demurred. He said he wouldperform at Dr Meade's house, behind a screen, andthat they were to come behind the screen when hewould knock to indicate that he was ready. Let theinvaluable Walpole take up the story. "He was sometime behind the scenes : at last he knocked, and thegood old folks saw what amazed them - what they hadnot seen many a day! Cibber says, 'His Grace's is ineverybody's mouth'.

Now he is upon his mettle, and will sue Lord Talbot forfourscore thousand pounds damages."16

One need hardly say that the divorce was granted.There were no children from the marriage, fortunatelyfor the Beaufort family, as the Duchess's mad daughterprobably inherited the excesses of her conduct from hermother. The Duke was succeeded by his brother.

Nearly a hundred years later, the man who was tobecome 7th Duke of Beaufort (1792-1853) broughtthe Beaufort name once more to the centre of publicattention. While still a very young man, and still as heirto the dukedom known as the Marquess of Worcester,he was "so open and free from every species ofconceit, perhaps too humble in his own opinion".Moreover, and more to the point, he was of "such anamiable nature that he is sure of winning the affectionsof all".17 It was the young man's misfortune to win theaffection of a prostitute.

Harriette Wilson (1789-1846) is a shadowycharacter, euphem istically described as a "lady offashion", who had a monopoly in aristocratic clients.She clearly had extraordinary fascination, as her loversfell over each other's feet in their rush for her favours.

"She was far from beautiful, but a smart, saucy girl, withgood eyes, hair, and the manners of a wildschoolboy."18 She would have passed easily intooblivion, along with the scores of other ladies of herkind about whom we know nothing, were it not that shehad a wonderful gift for recalling dialogue. In 1825 shepublished her Memoirs and caused an immediatesensation. "I hold everything which is not love, to bemere dull intervals in life", she wrote.19 Queues formedoutside the publishing house, and barriers had to be setup to control the crowds. Thirty editions appeared inthe first year. Harriette Wilson had drawn the veil awayfrom the discreet amours of the aristocracy, for herlovers were all named. Among them were the subjectsof two other chapters - the Duke of Argyll and theDuke of Leinster - and a man three years younger thanherself and under the age of majority - the besottedLord Worcester.

Lord Worcester was still an Oxford undergraduate,"a long, thin, pale fellow, with straight hair",20 when hewas introduced to Harriette by (such is the irony whichinfuses human relations) the man whose rival he was to

become, the Duke of Leinster. Worcester began topay her visits on his own initiative, and Harriette foundherself having to time entrances and exits so thatLeinster and Worcester did not meet; often one wouldarrive seconds after the other had left. The Duke, ofcourse, found out that his young friend was payingcourt, and grew jealous. Harriette professed to beexasperated. "I am to condole all the morning with onefool," she said, "and sympathise the blessed longevening with another; neither can I be tender and trueto a dozen of you at a time."21 But Worcester couldnot be deflected by insults. He swore that he wouldnever love another woman for the rest of his life, thathe would make Harriette Marchioness of Wor cester,and eventually Duchess of Beaufort. She had only tosay the word. His daily protestations worked andbefore long he was never out of her company. Londonbegan to notice that they were virtu ally living together.Worcester refused every invitation from any otherquarter, declaring that he would be miserable in anysociety without Harriette. He even found excuses todecline an invitation from the Prince of Wales, feigninglameness. His uncle Lord Charles Somer set supposed

that they had been secretly married, so openly werethey living a conjugal life.

Word reached the 6th Duke of Beaufort and hisduchess at Badminton. They were furious. They rainedletters upon their errant son. In Harriette's admittedlybiased account, "the Duke of Beaufort did nothing butwrite and torment Lord Worcester to leave me, whileWorcester's love seemed to increase on the receipt ofevery scolding letter. He daily swore to make me hiswife. ..." The Duchess did not waste time trying to betactful or persuasive; she came right to the point. "Thisabsurd attachment of yours for this vile profligatewoman", she wrote, "does but prove the totalsubjugation of your understanding." To this Harriette'scomment was, "he never posses sed any"."

Harriette claimed that she kept Worcester out ofmischief, pre vented him from gambling, and steadfastlyrefused to be his wife, out of consideration for hisparents, who would faint at the news. It is difficult tosee why else she would refuse his importunatedemands, but the Duke and Duchess would allow herno credit whatever. Their opposition naturallystrengthened his determination and lent to the love story

that element of romanticism which it would otherwisehave lacked.

The Duke of Beaufort then sent an emissary toHarriette, one Mr Robinson, asking her to surrender allthe letters which Worcester had sent her. Sherequested time to think about it, time which she used toconsult solicitors, who advised her that the promises ofmarri age contained in the letters would win her in acourt of law some £2000. The Beauforts wanted at allcosts to avoid a public airing of their domestic troubles.The Duchess tried another approach, feeling sorry forherself, provoking hysterical scenes with her son, whohad deserted her, forsaken her, abandoned her, and soon. She literally begged him to leave Harriette. But hewould not budge. Meanwhile, Harriette handed overthe letters.

Harriette wrote to the Duke, pointing out that shecould not abandon Worcester now, so dependent washe on her affection (and this was demonstrably true),and that it was only his perseverance which had brokendown her resistance in the first place. To this the Dukedid not deign to reply, from which Harriette concludedthat there was a difference between "high-bred" and

"well-bred".As a last resort, the Duke of Beaufort arranged for

his son to leave his regiment and join the Duke ofWellington, fighting the Penin sular War in Spain.Worcester was appointed Wellington's A.D.C. It wasto be an enforced separation from the wickedHarriette. Harriette was desperate. She thought it quitelikely that Worcester would die in Spain, and the faultwould have been hers. She deter mined to plead withthe Duke in person to change his mind, and promisethat she herself would go abroad and never againcontact the Marquess. The Duke was due in Londonfor one day. She went and knocked on his door inGrosvenor Square, and sent up a note. It was the firsttime they had met.

The interview passed stiffly. The Duke said she wasa fool ever to have supposed that she could marryWorcester. Harriette replied, "I am naturally good, butyou will, among you, harden my heart till it becomescold and vicious. Since nothing generous, and nosacrifice on my part, is understood or felt, even when Iwould serve others, and while I only think of them youwill not, or you cannot under stand me. Allow me, then,

to tell you, the fault is in your own character; I will notsay in your heart but in your want of heart." The Dukewas shamed into an apology. "I only wanted to observeto you that such unequal marriages are seldom if everattended with happiness to either party," he said. WhenHarriette left, she asked, "Will your Grace shake handswith me?" to which the Duke replied, "With greatpleasure."23 He obviously thought the matter was at anend.

Worcester wrenched from his father a promise topay Harriette a quarterly allowance during his absencein Spain, a promise which the Duke did not honour. "Inthis amiable conduct", wrote Harriette, "I take it forgranted he was upheld and encouraged by his mostinterest ing duchess."24 Meanwhile, Worcester himselfhad embarked for Spain, having been dragged in floodsof tears from Harriette's doorstep.

The only way in which Harriette could make theDuke pay was to threaten to join his son in Spain. Thenthe money arrived on time. When, however the Dukediscovered that Miss Wilson had written a letter toWorcester, contrary to the terms of the bargain, heasked for the money back. Eventually Harriette Wilson

had to take pro ceedings against the Duke of Beaufortto make him honour his bond. It is unlikely that shewould have won the case, as she had indeed brokenher side of the agreement by writing one letter, butBeaufort would have been shamed to insist on suchtreatment. A settlement was made out of court, andHarriette received £1200 as a lump sum. That was theend of the affair.

Harriette Wilson faded from the scene afterwards.She married a Mr Rochfort and settled in Paris,returning to England a pious widow. She died in 1846.The 6th Duke and Duchess of Beaufort buried theirshabby behaviour in the decency of oblivion. He died in

1835.

As for Worcester, now 7th Duke of Beaufort, herecovered in due course, and, deprived of Harriette'srestraining influence, indulged his passion for spendingmoney. Greville noted that the family was "going to thedogs"25 as fast as its good-natured head could drive it.He founded Pratt's Club, established in the kitchen ofhis personal steward, Pratt; was a Tory, a hunter, didall the usual Beaufort things. His emotional life,

however, continued along lines which were out of theordinary. His first wife was a niece of the Duke ofWell ington, and his second wife was his first wife'shalf-sister. This was not a relationship which wasregarded as respectable, falling as it did within theprohibited degrees of affinity. He admitted theunwisdom of the match by marrying in quasi-secrecy.The wedding took place at St George's, HanoverSquare, with the bridegroom listed as "HenrySomerset, widower".28 The marriage was legal, butwas voidable in an ecclesiastical court. The law waschanged in due course to oblige the Duke, and renderhis second marriage respectable. The Deceased Wife'sSister Bill passed in 1835 ratified all such marriagesalready celebrated, while forbidding any future suchalliances. The law remained on the Statute Book until1907.

Two of Beaufort's daughters inherited his romanticfancies. One of them, Lady Rose Somerset, elopedwith one Mr Francis Lovell, an "amazingly good-looking" Life Guard, when she was but seventeen.27

Another, Lady Augusta Somerset, conceived aflirtatious romance with Prince George of Cambridge,

which erupted into yet another scandal. A story spreadthat Lady Augusta was pregnant by the Prince, that theDuke of Beaufort her father wanted him to marry her,which he was naturally prepared to do, but couldn't,owing to the Royal Marriages Act which stood in theway. The monarch was obliged, according to this Act,to give her approval before any member of the RoyalFamily could marry. (The Act still applies.) QueenVictoria was not disposed to give her consent.

Such were the bare bones of the rumour, whichspread like a forest fire throughout Europe andscreeched in all the newspapers. There was never anyreal truth to support it, except the flirtation, which wasreal enough, "such as is continually going on without anyserious result between half the youths and girls inLondon".28 The Duke of Beaufort, forgetting thedramatic proportions of his own youthful passion forMiss Wilson, was indignant; he caused a formalcontrac tion of the story to appear in The Times, but itwas too late. The damage was done. "There is such adisposition to believe such stories and such a reluctanceto renounce such a belief once entertained . . . thiscalumny will affect the lady more or less as long as she

lives." She was not pregnant, but "it is probably trueenough that she behaved with very little prudence,delicacy, or reserve, for she is a very ill-behaved girl,ready for anything that her caprice or passions exciteher to do". Like father, like daughter.

The worst of it was that the Queen herself believedthe entire story. One would have thought that shewould have known better, after the recent unpopularityshe had incurred by her shameful treat ment of poorLady Flora Hastings, who had died partly as a result ofthe scandal the Queen provoked. But no. She forbadethe Court to speak to or acknowledge Lady Augusta.When the Duchess of Cambridge (Prince George'smother) took Lady Augusta to Windsor, all the youngladies at court turned their heads to the wall. TheQueen exploded in a violent temper. How dare theDuchess attempt to bring respectability to LadyAugusta by having her appear at Windsor! It wasscandalous that she should even be in the castle! TheQueen knew that the stories were true, she said. TheDuchess strode out, seething, and the Queen returnedto her prudish husband. Prince George gave his wordthat there was no truth in the matter, to which Prince

Albert grudgingly replied that he and the Queen"supposed they must believe that it was so". NeitherCambridge nor Beaufort was satisfied with this.Beaufort approached Peel, who was scared of theQueen and dared not raise the subject. Finally, hesum moned his courage, and the Queen allowed thatshe was entirely satisfied and wanted to hear no moreabout it.29 Beaufort boiled with rage and indignation formonths afterwards. When Prince Albert sug gested hisson Lord Worcester as Lord-in-Waiting, Beaufort senta peremptory refusal. As for Lady Augusta, shemarried the Austrian Ambassador, Baron Neumann,the following year (1844); foreigners were less touchyabout scandal, and Neumann, being the son ofMetternich's father's gardener, was in no position toassume a holier- than-thou attitude. (Metternich's fatherhad also sported with the gardener's wife.) Augustadied in 1850. Three years later the Duke himself, afounder member of the Garrick Club, died, and thedukedom passed to his son, 8th Duke of Beaufort(1824-1899), whom we know as "The Blue Duke".(The Beaufort Hunt wears blue instead of the usualred).

Like his grandson, the Blue Duke was before all elsethe best known sporting figure in England. Not only aMaster of Foxhounds, but a first-class shot, angler,racing man. He edited the Badminton Library ofSports and Pastimes, a collection of handbookscovering everything from archery to dancing, and thegame we know as "Badminton" was invented at hishouse. He possessed the same romantic energies as hissisters and father, and was well-known for the numberof his mistresses. His duchess, moreover, acceptedtheir existence with exemplary calm. A fine example ofthis marble reserve at work is given in E. F. Benson'sbook As We Were. "The Duke of Beaufort was away,but there was a party in the house, and one day thebutler told the Duchess as they went into lunch that acase had arrived for His Grace, which he hadunpacked: it contained a picture, and he wanted toknow where he was to hang it. So the whole partywent into the corridor, when lunch was over, to see thepicture, and there they found the portrait of a verypretty young lady whom everybody knew to be theDuke's mistress. Was that an awkward situation ? Notin the least. The Duchess with complete self-

possession looked admiringly at it, and said, 'Is it notcharming? A fancy portrait, I suppose,' and without agrin or a wink or a whis per, they all looked at thefancy portrait, and liked it immensely. It would do verywell, thought the Duchess, just where it was, hung onthe wall there. Then as they moved quietly on, shechanged her mind. 'His Grace might like it in his ownroom perhaps,' she said to her butler. 'You had betterhang it there.' That was all. Reticence and dignity hadperfectly solved the method of dealing with thisawkwardness, and when the Duke came home therewas the fancy portrait hanging in his room as a pleasantsurprise for him."30

The Duke, it appears, had far less self-control thanthe Duchess, and would turn blubbering to his sonswhen the mistress ditched him for someone else.31

Perhaps the spectacle of father's heaving shoulders andmother's stately reserve influenced the next generationof Beau fort children more than they knew; two of the8th Duke's sons were deeply involved in the one kindof emotional attachment which the Victorians icilyforbade - the homosexual kind.

Lord Henry Somerset (1849-1932) was the Duke's

second son. His career was conventional enough tobegin with: member of Parlia ment for Monmouthshirein 1871, married in 1872, appointed Comp troller ofthe Royal Household in 1874. His wife was Isabel,whose mother Lady Somers was one of the fabulousPattle sisters. Virginia Pattle had been so beautiful thatshe was mobbed and followed the way film-stars are acentury later. Her every move was noted by the Press.The same family were to give us Virginia Woolf andVanessa Bell, the former being named after her great-aunt Virginia Pattle, Lady Somers. Of Lady Somers'stwo daughters, one became Adeline Duchess ofBedford, and the other married Lord Henry Somerset.Presumably the pressures of convention made LordHenry enter the alliance, for there can be no doubt thathis inclinations lay elsewhere. What he did not bargainfor was a mother-in-law who, in addition to being anastonishing beauty, was a meddlesome, domi neering,frightful busybody. At the wedding, people noticed howthe bride clung to her mother when it was time to leavefor the honey moon.32 This did not augur well. LordHenry did his duty by his wife, producing the requiredoffspring to satisfy public (and family) morals, but his

tenderest love was reserved for men. One inparticu lar, a commoner called Harry Smith, who wasseventeen when his relationship with Lord Henrybegan, provoked a disastrous response. Of course,Lady Henry knew what her husband was up to, andshe was not made to suffer thereby; had she kept quiet,there is no reason why she should not have remainedcomfortable and reason ably content for the rest of herlife; more than that no Victorian lady had a right tohope. But she made the mistake of revealing all tomother, who sparked off like a catherine-wheel. "LadySomers descended on the situation, in a whirlwind ofFrench horror and dramatic tableau, and persuaded herdaughter not to spend another night in her husband'shouse."33 Naturally, a public scandal ensued, out ofwhich nobody emerged triumphant. The London clubsbegan to whisper about the "foul charges" which Isabeland her mother were spreading about London againstLord Henry. Isabel claimed in public that her husbandwas guilty of a crime mentioned only in the Bible, andthe Victorian drawing-rooms fell hushed in mute horror.She sued for a separation, stating the reasons, and shewon her case. Lord Henry was denied custody of his

child. He resigned his post as Comptroller of the RoyalHouse, and took the only course open to him; he fledthe country in 1879. His wife was ostracised bysociety, much to her amazement, because, though shewas the "innocent" party, she had sinned against theunwritten law, "thou must not admit the truth". She hadmentioned the unmentionable and brought disreputeupon the head of the Beaufort house, when all couldhave been kept quiet. She would have done better tocopy her mother-in- law, the imperturbable Duchess,rather than her excitable mother. From now on, shereceived no further invitations, was no longer welcomedin polite society, and, of course, could never marry-again. She retired to the country, where she devotedherself to looking after drunkards.

Meanwhile, Lord Henry took refuge in Italy, andthere wrote some beautiful poems celebrating his lovefor Harry Smith, who he admit ted quite candidly was"dearer to me than my life".34 He was never to seeHarry again after the scandal, but his poems werepublished in London by Chatto & Windus under thetitle Songs of Adieu ten years later (1889), and in themhe expresses the poignancy of a des perate affection

which though killed by events yet refuses to die. Hepleaded with Harry to join him :

"I cannot live without thee - oh, come back !Come back to him that, weeping, waits forthee;

For life is death without thee - oh, come back!Dear love, thou art the very life of me.

i

"Hast thou no care that, ebbing all too fast,My youth is scorched and scarred with

burning tears? Hath thy hard heart nomemories of the past, No longings for thelove of happier years ?

"Come back ! Come back! I beg thee fromthis boon - Oh, turn thine ear and hearken to

my cry — Come back! come back ! andcome, dear love, full soon, For if thou comenot soon I needs must die."35

Harry did not, could not, come back. The cruelhypocrisy of the time had despatched him as far awayas possible from polite gaze, to New Zealand, wherehe died in 1902. Lord Henry, now exiled for nearlytwenty-five years, thought England might be ready toreceive him again, and chose to come for Edward VII'scoronation. He did not reckon with his mother-in-law'svindictiveness. She set private detec tives upon him,who watched his every move, and she informedScotland Yard that the monster was again at large.36

Presumably, his own family at Badminton was notready to forgive him either, for he appears to havestayed in London only a few days, to return once moreto Florence, a saddened man.

Lord Henry's younger brother was Lord ArthurSomerset, born in 1851, a former Guards officer, andAssistant Equerry to the Prince of Wales (EdwardVII). In 1889 there erupted the scandal alreadymentioned in a previous chapter, concerning a male

brothel in Cleve land Street, frequented on the onehand by adolescent telegraph boys, who were paid fortheir services, and on the other by members of thearistocracy, who did the paying. The case would nothave reached the proportions it did were it not for theassiduous probing of the North London Press, anorgan since retreated into obscurity. The newspapernamed some clients of the establishment, among themLord Euston (son of the Duke of Grafton), whosuccessfully sued; by implication the Duke of Clarence,eldest son of the Prince of Wales, and heir to the throne(he died in time, and was succeeded as heir by hisbrother, George V); and Lord Arthur Somerset, whowas known in Cleveland Street as "Mr Brown".

A police constable called Sladden observed "MrBrown" call at 19 Cleveland Street on 9th July and on13th July 1889. Two weeks later, on 25th July, P.C.Sladden went with two of the boys, Swins- cow (agedfifteen) and, incredibly, Thickbroom (aged seventeen)to Piccadilly, where they identified "Mr Brown" in thestreet as the man they had both been to bed with atCleveland Street. P.C. Sladden then followed thesuspect to Knightsbridge barracks, where he was

identified as Lord Arthur Somerset."7The same day, the papers were sent to the Director

of Public Prosecutions, in whose opinion the evidencewas sufficient to pros ecute Lord Arthur for grossindecency. Another boy called Newlove had testified tothe police that Lord Arthur "had to do with me onseveral occasions there"38 and a fourth, a "good-looking curly- headed youth" of fifteen called AlgernonAlleys, had been kept by Somerset for the past twoyears. There were a number of compro mising letters toAlleys, which were hurriedly destroyed, but the policedid have two of the postal orders which Lord Arthurhad sent him, as well as sworn statements. The PrimeMinister was informed, and he sent to the LordChancellor for an opinion; Lord Arthur should not beprosecuted, came the reply.

Meanwhile, the Prince of Wales, who was a personalfriend to Lord Arthur, heard the rumours and refused tobelieve them. "I won't believe it," he said, "any morethan I should if they accused the Archbishop ofCanterbury", an unfortunate comparison since theArchbishop's sons were every one of them brothers ininclination. The Prince thought any man capable of such

behaviour "an unfortunate lunatic".39 Whatever hisreasons (and his own son's name had also beenwhispered), the Prince of Wales brought some pressureto bear, and Lord Arthur Somerset was permitted toescape. The Chief Com missioner of Police suspectedthat this would happen. On 19th Sep tember he wroteto the Director of Public Prosecutions, "myimpres sion is that it is by no means certain we shall beauthorised to prosecute L.A.S. Steps will certainly betaken to remove him from the country and consequently'Society'."40 That is in fact what occurred. Lord Arthurexiled himself to Boulogne on 17th or 18th October,with the connivance of authority higher placed than theDirector of Public Prosecutions, and remained beyondthe jurisdiction of English courts. The warrant for hisarrest was not issued until 12th November. Only oncedid he return to England, when he was smartly told tomake himself scarce again. The man who ran thebrothel, Hammond, also escaped abroad. Two whohad acted as pro curers for the others, Veck andNewlove, were prosecuted, found guilty, andsentenced to nine months' and four months' hard labourrespectively, but not before Lord Arthur had tried to

get them out of the country too, through the mediacy ofhis solicitor, leading to another trial. Newlove waseighteen years old. What the Duke of Beaufort made ofall this, we are not told.

The 9th Duke of Beaufort (1847-1924),elder brother of Lords Henry and Arthur,succeeded his father in 1899. Of him it isrecorded that he strongly objected to theGloucestershire Hussars (of which hewas Colonel) being encamped inundignified fashion on Salisbury Plainand having to wear khaki; the Boer Warhad just finished, and austerity was theorder of the day. "Because there hasbeen a war in South Africa," proclaimedthe Duke, "I do not see why we shouldbe condemned to spend our time in wettents and convicts' dress."41

His son was the 10th Duke of Beaufort,1900-1984, the "Master". He also had halfa dozen other titles, decorations fromNorway, Sweden, Portugal, France,Belgium, Rumania, Ethiopia, and pre sidedover that sub-county of Gloucestershirecommonly known as "Beaufortshire".Beaufortshire is distinguished by amembership totally committed to the

country life, with mud on their boots andhot air puffing from their nostrils,gentlemen farmers and retired military men,eligible daughters in expensive twin-setsgiving all their attention to eldest sons andignoring everyone else, and the wholecommunity speaking with an unmistakableclipped nasal twang. They move about inlarge cars built for comfort not speed,never raise their voices except in the hunt,and return to elegant comfortable homes,full of old rugs, log fires, and house-dogs(The Duke himself had about a dozenhouse-dogs, and was President of theBattersea Dogs' Home). The Duke's daywas a strenuous one, as befitted a mangrown to strength in the healthy countryair. He was often called "as tough asnails".42 His routine involved getting up atseven o'clock, and riding round the estatebefore breakfast to see what was going on.He knew the 120 men who worked on hisestate far better than any factory bossknows his staff. No decision concerningthe estate was taken without the Duke'sactive authority. He answered all his ownletters. He was President of the Federationof Boys' Clubs, of the Outward BoundSchool, and of every society that has

anything to do with horses. The only onethat he had no time for is the RoyalSociety for the Prevention of Cruelty toAnimals, which had the cheek to ask HisGrace to treat with care the horses thatwere to draw the coro nation coach in1953. He replied that he knew how to treathorses, thank you. The Duke wasChancellor of the University of Bristolfrom 1966 to 1970, an appointment whichprovoked violent opposition from thestudents; clashes with the police marredthe installation, and decorated the frontpage of all newspapers. Even The Timesjoined in the attack, and declared that itdid not think the appointment was a wisechoice.43 However, the Duke rode it out,and was finally a very popular Chancellorindeed. He was not a man to succumb topressures of any sort.

Anyone who travelled on an expresstrain from London to South Wales, as Ihave had to do, might have beenastonished that the train stopped briefly ata tiny station called Badminton, whereusually no one would get off or on, andonly two houses were in view. I alwayswondered by what anomaly this situation

occurred. I now discover that the stationwas built in 1903 to oblige the then Dukeof Beaufort in fair exchange for the Duke'spermission to lay tracks across his land.Beaufort said to the Great WesternRailway, in effect, you can run yourrailway track across my land if youguaran tee that four trains per day willstop there. The Duke had the addi tionalright to stop any other train that hewished, if he or his guests wanted to travelto London. The station was built just onemile from Badminton House, with theDuke's crest on the wall, and thestationmaster's office carpeted in red; theQueen used this as a waiting-room. Withthe demise of the train in favour of themotor car as a popular means of transport,the railways lost money, and had toeconomise. In the face of severe financialneed, the old promise to the Duke ofBeaufort had to go the way of all privilege;Badminton station was closed in 1968.

The Duke was one of the foremostsportsmen in England. He had beenPresident of the M.C.C., of Bristol RoversFootball Club, and of the British OlympicAssociation. But of course it is as the

Master of Foxhounds that he is bestremembered. Until he retired to the rear ofthe pack in 1966, the sight of the Duke ofBeaufort at the head of the hunt was oneof the greatest spectacles to be seen inEngland. He devoted an extraordinaryamount of time and energy to keeping hishounds the finest pack in the land. Hisancestors were largely responsible(though not solely) for the establishmentof foxhunting in this country in the mid-eighteenth century, as a replacement tostag-hunting. (When James I and the Earlof Worcester hunted, it was stags theywere after.) Two hunts soon had areputation above the others, and theywere both ducal; the Duke of Rutland'sBelvoir Hunt, and the Duke of Beaufort'sBadminton Hunt. Beaufort has the edgenow because his hounds have rather morestamina and more bone, and also becausethe reigning Duke has always been Masterof the hunt which bears his name. TheBeauforts have a rare uncanny feeling forthe hunt. It was said of the 8th Duke thathe "had an intuitive perception, moreanimal than human, of what may be calledthe line of chase".44

The Duke naturally found himself thecentre of controversy as the twentiethcentury has moved slowly towards adifferent view of foxhunting. Objectionshave been raised against it first on thegrounds that it is a sport for the "idlerich", and secondly because it is cruel.The first objection holds no water at all.The hunt is enjoyed by members of allclasses, but since they are not all dukes,they are not attacked for it. The DowagerDuchess of Beaufort rode with theBanwen Miners' Hunt, and invited theminers to hunt with the Beaufort.45 Theother objection is, however, moreuncomfortable. One cannot help feelinguneasy that people should derivepleasure from seeing a living creaturemade dead; even the words used inhunting terminology smack of violence.The hounds do not kill a fox, they "breakhim up". A former Master of Foxhoundshas described the hunt as "a carnival,with men and women paying money totake part in the slaughter",46 and anothercorrespondent voiced the feelings of theDuke's critics when he wrote of"callousness to animal suffering which isan affront to the civilised conscience".47

The Bishop of Southwark claimed thatbloodsports were contrary to Christianteaching, a charge that the Duke feltobliged to answer, but which he avoided;he said the alternatives were worse,which may well be true, but does notinvalidate the Bishop's point.48 Someneighbouring farmers, tired of reasoningwith a man who could not bring reasonto bear in a matter which was the fibre ofhis soul, took from time to time to morestrenuous methods. There was onegentleman who threatened legal actionagainst the Beaufort Hunt if it continuedto cross his land and do damage: he saidthe hunters were boorish, and insultedhim if he remonstrated with them.49

Another farmer shot the fox to put it outof its misery, then ordered the Duke offhis land. The Duke is reported to havesaid, "Don't be silly", which is usuallythe incredulous reaction of those whohunt foxes, and do not understand that itmay be offensive to others.50

The terrain of the Beaufort hunt was badlyscissored by the M4, cutting off the Dauntsey Vale,

where a famous hunt in 1871 had lasted for fifty miles,and the Duke had exhausted three mounts in the chase.Horses and hounds are not allowed to crossmotorways. There is the occasional glimpse of humouramid all the earnestness. Mr H. P. Forder, of SamuelFox & Co., learning that the Duke of Beaufort rode ina car marked MFH 1, wrote to The Times. "At theseworks we travel in FOX 1", he said. "May I beassured that, should we happen to meet His Graceupon the road, no unseemly incident will occur?"51 Inhis reply the Duke pointed out that his hunt wentnowhere near the works of Samuel Fox & Co.

Throughout World War II, Badminton played host,at the sug gestion of the Government, to Queen Mary,who was the Duchess of Beaufort's aunt. Strict secrecywas imposed with the result that hardly anyone knewwhere she was all this time. Badminton certainly knew,however. The Duchess viewed with someappre hension Queen Mary's convoy of vans arrive inOctober 1939, with her seventy pieces of personalluggage, and retinue of fifty-five fastidious servants. Thearrangement was that she should take over the wholehouse, or as much of it as she wanted, with the

exception of the Duke's bedrooms and sitting-rooms.The Beauforts in effect were guests in their own home.The Duchess wrote: "Pandemonium was the least itcould be called! The servants revolted, and scornedour humble home [Badminton humble!]. They refusedto use the excellent rooms assigned to them. Fearfulrows and battles royal were fought over my body. . . .The Queen, quite unconscious of the stir, has settled inwell, and is busy cutting down trees and tearing downivy." (Queen Mary hated ivy and attacked it wherevershe saw it.)52 She kept three suitcases ready packedthroughout the war with which to escape in the eventthat the Nazis should attempt to kidnap her.53

As "Master" and his wife had no children, thedukedom passed in 1984 to Mr David Somerset, acousin, and a connoisseur of Fine Art, whose wife, neeLady Caroline Thynne, is a daughter of the Marquessof Bath. It would be attractive to think that as MrSomerset was not the son of his predecessor, hesuddenly found himself transported at the age of fifty-six to a grandeur of style and a burden of responsibilityfor which he was not prepared, but such was not thecase. He had been aware of what might befall him since

the age of eighteen, when Master had told him on a visitto Badminton, "You must treat this place as your own."From then on, the 10th Duke effectively behaved as ifDavid were his son, gradually involving him in decisionsrelating to Badminton and the estate, always consultinghim, and in the last thirty years, more or less leavingplans for the future in his control. He has always livedon the estate and has been in and out of the house allhis adult life.

The 11th Duke of Beaufort, therefore, carried onmuch as he did before. He is still Chairman ofMarlborough Fine Art (UK) Ltd and has no intention ofabandoning his life's work. He is resolutely apolitical,with no burning ambition to take his seat in the Lords.And he is not Master of the Queen's Horse; though thepublic mind long associated this position with thedukedom of Beaufort, it is not in herited with the titleand is now held by the Earl of Westmoreland.His descent is interesting, for his ancestor on oneside is the poetLord Henry Somerset, who wasbanished into exile in 1879, while his grandmotherwas a daughter of the 10th Duke of St Albans, sonof the mad Miss Gubbins. And of course, through

Henry Somerset's wife, and in common withVirginia Woolf, he has the legacy of handsomelooks from the Pattle sisters. The Duke's son andheir, Lord Worcester, was born in 1952. As thereare two younger sons (and a daughter), thedukedom seems destined to continue henceforth ina straight line.

REFERENCES

1 . Daily Express, 16th February, 1949.2. William Shakespeare, Richard II, Act II, Sc. 1.3. Osbert Sitwell, Preface to The SomersetSequence, p. 9.4. Collins, Peerage, Vol. I.5. Evening Standard, 12th December 1964.6. J. H. Round, Studies in the Peerage.7. Ailcsbury Memoirs, quoted in SomersetSequence, p. 144.8. Collins, I, 210.9. Anita Leslie,Edwardians in Love, p.248. 1 o. Walpole, cd.

Cunningham, IX, p. 92.11 . letters of Lady Granville, quoted in SomersetSequence, p. 174.12. Greville, I, 102.13. Walpolc,XVII,486. .4. ibid.,XVIII,185.15. ibid., XVII, 452-3.16. ibid., XVIII, 185.'17. Lady Holland to Her Son, p. 27.18. Lockhart, Life, p. 585.19. Harriette Wilson, Memoirs, p. 316.20. ibid., 273.21. ibid., 3 1 5 .22. ibid., 391.23. ibid., 454-5.24. ibzV/., 497.25. Greville, VI, 141.26. Somerset Sequence, 183.

27. ibid., 187.28. Greville, VI, 49.29. ibid., and pp. 77-9.30. E. F. Benson, As We Were, pp. 89-90.31. ibid., go.

32. Kathleen Fitzpatrick, Lady HenrySomerset, p. 92.

33. E. F. Benson, As We Were, p. 91.

34. Timothy D'Arch Smith, Love inEarnest, p. 26.

35. Songs of Adieu, pp. 5-6.36. Timothy D'Arch Smith, op. cit., p. 27.

37. Public Record Office, DPP 1 95/5.

38. ibid.39. Sir Philip Magnus, King Edward VIII,p. 214.

40. Public Record Office, DPP 1 95/1-

41. Ralph Nevill, English Country House Life, p.156.

42. Evening News, 20th July 1951.

43. The Times, 20th May 1966.

44. T. F. Dale, Eighth Duke of Beaufort and theBadminton Hunt,

p. 98.45. Daily Express, 12th April, 1962.

46. The People, 8th November 1959.

47. Michael Peel, letter to The Times, 31stDecember 1969.

48. The Times, 29th December 1969.

49. Daily Express, 15th February 1962.

50. Daily Express, 12th April 1962.

51. The Times, 11th November 1960.

52. Osbert Sitwell, Queen Mary andOthers, p. 34.

ibid., 49.

6. For King and Country

Duke of Marlborough; Duke of Wellington

By an appropriate coincidence, the present Dukes ofMarlborough and Wellington were introduced to theHouse of Lords on the same day - 20th July 1972.They are descended from men who had in commonmilitary genius, cool grasp and judgement, and acapacity for bold and quick decision. Away from thebattlefield, however, where their personalities could beobserved in less theatrical circum stances, the 1st Dukeof Marlborough (1650-1722) and the 1st Duke ofWellington (1769-1852) were as different as two menever could be.

In the first place, the fundamental principle whichseparated them was ambition. Marlborough was a man"on the make", who would not scruple to subordinatemany a consideration to his own interest. He was quickto see where his advantage lay, and resolute in pursuing

it. His ambition led him to desert his monarch, James II,when he saw that he had more to gain by supportingWilliam of Orange, and to cover himself by givingclandestine support to James while holding positions oftrust from William. "Marlborough was not the man toshrink from any means which would lead to his end,and apparently regarded a treasonable action as notless admissible than a stratagem in war."1 Thackerayhad this to say about him: "Here is my lord Duke ofMarlborough kneeling too, the greatest warrior of alltimes; he who betrayed King William - betrayed KingJames II - betrayed Queen Anne - betrayed England tothe French, the Elector to the Pretender, the Pretenderto the Elector . . . and you, my lord Duke ofMarlborough, you would sell me or any man else, if youfound your advantage in it."2Wellington, on the otherhand, was completely devoid of vanity or personalambition. Where Marlborough sought fame andgreatness (and had to wait until he was over fifty beforethe opportunity came), Wellington had greatness thrustupon him in his thirties. He had none of the conceit, theguile, the deviousness of the other man. He wasgenuinely humble, his most highly developed motive

being a sense of duty. He was unflinchingly loyal toeach of the four monarchs he served, whatever he mayhave thought of them personally. His greatest victoriesand his most humble services were alike motivated byan equal degree of obligation towards his country, hissuperiors, or his fellows. He seems never to have beentempted to follow a course of action which wouldadvance himself. He responded to patriotism, not toambition, because he was essentially a man of greatsimplicity, straightforward, direct and truthful, whowould find personal aggrandisement both distastefuland complex. Something of this attitude is in his remarkthat the difference between the English and the Frenchwas that "with the French, glory is the cause; with us,the result".3 This also neatly defines the differencebetween Marlborough and Wellington.

It is simply not good enough to say, asMarlborough's apologists do, that they were theproduct of different ages. On the contrary, they helpedto define what we now regard, with hindsight, as thecharacteristics of the times in which they lived. Theexplanations are more personal. Marlborough, the sonof an already famous man, had fame as his object from

the beginning. With good looks and a charming manner,he was naturally gregarious and social. It was perfectlynormal that he should want to do well for himself.Wellington, on the other hand, was from acomparatively obscure family. At school he had beenunsocial and alone, with a pet terrier as his closestcompanion. All his life he remained virtually friendless,in that he did not confide his deepest thoughts toanyone (probably not even to Arbuthnot). Unsure of hispersonal charm, he protected him self from having itexposed by making himself an intensely privateindividual. He never told anyone where he was going,and, of course, no one ever dared ask him. Answerableonly to himself for his psychology, he thereby gainedthe strength to be strangely indifferent to public acclaim."He held popularity in great contempt, and neverseemed touched or pleased at the manifestations ofpopular admir ation and attachment of which he wasthe object."4 "Trust nothing to the enthusiasm of thepeople," he said,5 and although most reports picturehim as unfailingly courteous, there are occasions onwhich he is said to have been brusque with flatterers."While Marlborough would measure his success by the

effect he produced, in trivial as well as major issues,Wellington was true to himself, to his conscience, andto his duty. He had nerves of steel. No wonder he wasnicknamed the "Iron" Duke.

Hardness and self-reliance may have assistedWellington in his public duties, but they were hostileinfluences on his private life. His personality lackedtenderness, warmth and affection, the imaginative leapwhich enables a friend or a lover to take account ofthe sensibilities of another. He may not have had acold heart, but he effectively barred anyone fromfinding out, so that only the coldness was visible.*Consequently, he never knew domestic happiness. Hemarried Catherine Pakenham, Lord Longford'sdaughter, in 1806, and had two sons by her, but theirfundamental incompatibility made them live apart aftera few years, and he grew to dislike her. She wasperhaps a lightweight compared to her husband, andunequal to the demands made by the scale of hispersonality, but she cannot be expected to bear all theblame for failing to make a success of living with sucha secretive man. His relations with his son werelikewise forbidding and terrifyingly formal. He one day

refused to acknowledge a greeting from the youngman, who was in civilian clothes, but curtly ignoredhim. Anxious to please, Douro rushed home to changeinto his uniform, whereupon his father, a quarter of anhour later, said, "Hello, Douro, I have not seen you fora long time."7 Wellington was a renowned womaniser,yet none of his relationships were productive. He issaid to have sat on the bed reading the Gospel of StJohn to a "woman of the streets". Harriette Wilsonclaims to have been one of his amours. The way inwhich she relates their conver sations, with his harsh,staccato sentences, polite and accurate, but spare andgiving nothing away, which was so typical of the man,testifies to the fact that she knew him. She says that hewas unfeeling, with "fine nerves", and pays due tributeto his generosity. Incident ally, a further insight to hischaracter as well as a now cliche phrase is afforded bythe story of Harriette's publisher attempting toblack mail the Duke by suggesting that the book mightbe injurious to his reputation and could still be stoppedon certain considerations. Wellington sent back theletter, having scrawled across it, "Publish and bedamned".8

With Marlborough, it was quite otherwise. A deeplyaffectionate man, he was genuinely grief-stricken whenhis son and heir, Lord Blandford, died of smallpox atthe age of seventeen in 1703. The signs are that hewas a far more emotional man than Wellington. Therewere two strong love affairs in his life, one with theinfamous Duchess of Cleveland (Charles II's mistressand mother of the Duke of Grafton), and one with thewoman who became his wife, Sarah

*The letters he addressed to Miss A. M. Jenkins, publishedin 1899, were avuncular rather than tender.

Jennings. He was only twenty years old (and still a plainmister) when his affair with la Cleveland began in1671; she was twenty- nine, and known to have apenchant for youngsters. The relationship lasted threeyears, producing a daughter on 16th July 1672.Fortunately, the King was already tiring of his bad-tempered mistress by this time, and had turned hisattentions to Nell Gwynn. There is a story that henevertheless surprised the young man in the Duchess'sbedroom, giving him just sufficient time to escape

through the window, at quite a height, to save whatcrumbs of honour she had left. For this timely gallantryshe paid him £5000. Another version has it that Charlescame face to face with the boy, and said to him, "Go,you are a rascal, but I forgive you because you do it toget your bread."8 The inference is nasty, and time wasto prove it justified. Whatever his relations with theDuchess of Cleveland, there is no doubt thatMarlborough's marriage to Sarah Jennings was a mostsuccessful love match, the excitement of which lasteduntil death. One has only to read a handful of lettersbetween them. "It is impossible to express with what aheavy heart I parted with you when I was at thewaterside. I could have given my life to have comeback," he wrote to her, adding a touch of pureromance: "I did for a great while have a perspectiveglass looking upon the cliffs in hopes I might have hadone sight of you." Sarah, separated from her husband,thought of him constantly. She wrote, "Wherever youare whilst I have life my soul shall follow you, my everdear Lord Marl, and wherever I am I shall only kill thetime, wish for night, that I may sleep, and hope the nextday to hear from you." More revealing than all is the

letter which Sarah wrote to the Duke of Somerset (theso-called "Proud" Duke) who had graciously permittedhimself to consider making her his wife, afterMarlborough's death. Her reply is dignified, crushing,and touching. "If I were young and handsome as Iwas", she wrote, "instead of old and faded as I am, andyou could lay the empire of the world at my feet, youshould never share the heart and hand that oncebelonged to John, Duke of Marlborough."10

Other minor characteristics separate the two men.Marlborough was peevish, painfully aware of any slight;Wellington remained serenely unaffected by suchmatters. "There is no part of his great character moreadmirable or more rare than his temper and fortitudeunder great disappointments arising from the weaknessor neglect of others", wrote Lord Mulgrave.11

Marlborough was vain, Wellington modest, the formerliked display, the latter abhorred it. When he was madeMarquess of Wellington in 1812 he objected to theUnion Jack being included in his coat of arms on thegrounds that it was pretentious. He was also noted forextraordinary generosity, of which examples aremanifold. Most interesting of all, perhaps, is the fact

that when the Parliamentary Commissioners bought theestate of Stratfield Saye in 1817, for £263,000, andpresented it to the Duke from a grateful nation, he spentevery penny of income from the estate on improving it;not a sou did he spend on himself.12 The reputation thatMarlborough had for stinginess dies hard. If it is toostrong to call him a miser (there are those who wouldsay it is not), then he was certainly niggardly, giving riseto some amusing stories of his penny-pinching habits.Having devoted his life to acquiring money, he was noteasily going to lose it. He was forever speculating howto add to it. As an old man, walking with difficulty, hewould still walk home rather than pay sixpence for achair to take him. His descendant Sir WinstonChurchill, anxious to defend him against the charge ofgreed, nevertheless relates in his biography the story ofhis playing cards with General Pulteney. Marlboroughasked Pulteney if he could borrow sixpence to pay forhis chair-hire. Pulteney obliged, and the Duke left. LordBath, who was there, said, "I would venture any sumnow, that the Duke goes home on foot. Do pray followhim out." Pulteney went to see, and there, sure enough,was the old man trudging to his lodgings.13

Lord Peterborough was once mistaken for the Dukeof Marlborough by the London crowd, who surgedaround his chair shouting "God bless the Duke ofMarlborough". Peterborough insisted that he was notthe Duke, but the crowd would not be moved. He thengot out of his chair, stood before them, and said, "I willgive you two convincing proofs that I am not: one is,that I have but a single guinea," and he turned hispockets inside out, "the other is, that I give it to you.""

Much of Marlborough's unpleasant reputation in thisregard can be assigned to Macaulay. SarahMarlborough asserted that the Duke had never taken abribe, and Sir Winston says that there is no evidence tocontradict her. He goes so far as to call Macaulay aliar, and points out that at forty-five Marlborough wasthe poorest duke in England. For once, Churchill erred.First, at forty-five Marlborough was yet only an earl,being raised to the rank of duke at the age of fifty-two.Secondly, his great period of accumulating wealth wasstill in the future, when Queen Anne came to the throne;Anne was influenced to an extraordinary degree by herfriends the Marlboroughs, John and Sarah.

From another point of view, it matters little that

Marlborough was covetous. It is important only that hewas a great general. As Trevelyan wrote, "If he lovedmoney, he gave England better value for every guineahe received than any other of her servants."

Sarah apparently shared this mean streak with herhusband. She is said never to have put dots over her i'sto save ink.15 Another source, Prince Eugene,attributes the same habit to the Duke.

Much of the Duke's personality was publicknowledge, which alone can account for his eventualunpopularity. In spite of his great achievements. "Hehad probably less public sympathy than any successfulgeneral." Wellington's massive popularity could not bemore vividly contrasted with this. In 1814 his journeyfrom Dover to London was a triumphal progress (thiswas even before Waterloo). The people themselvestook over and drew his carriage from WestminsterBridge to Hamilton. Place. Years later, at the GreatExhibition of 1851, his attraction had not dimmed;thousands stared at him instead of at the exhibition. Athis funeral in 1852 one and a half million people linedthe route. (The population of London was then2,362,236.) "No man ever lived or died in the

possession of more unanimous love, respect, andesteem from his countrymen," said Palmerston. Onlyonce did this love turn sour. The Duke was a high Toryand a passionate opponent of the Reform Bill. Thepeople stormed his London home, Apsley House, andthrew stones at the windows. The Duchess was lyingdead within. One stone passed over the Duke's headas he was writing, and cracked a picture on theopposite wall of the room.16 He did not flinch.Characteristically, he did not deign to repair thebroken windows, but boarded them up.

That apart, Wellington was revered almost as a god.He was thought to be omnipotent, his advice sought inevery crisis. From Queen Victoria, who wrote in herjournal, "The Duke is the best friend we have", to theGovernment, who pressed him against his will to bePrime Minister, to the thousands who doffed their hatsto him, all had faith in his powers, and respect for hisperson. It is a pity he allowed himself to be persuadedinto the Premiership, for he did not distinguish himselfin politics. Even that, however, could not dim themagic of his especial position. Greville said he wasmidway between the Royal Family and other subjects;

he was treated with greater respect than any otherperson not of royal birth. One amusing instance servesto show the awe which the Duke inspired. The GreatExhibition was due to be opened in Hyde Park, inPaxton's glorious crystal palace, when a potentialdisaster threatened. Within the glass building werethree large elms, and they were so loaded with Londonsparrows that the birds might well soil and spoil all thegoods on show, not to mention the people. Lord JohnRussell suggested that a regiment of Guards should goin and shoot all the sparrows, until the Prince of Walespointed out that the glass would be shattered. LordPalmerston then said that bird lime should be put onthe branches; but the sparrows had by this time takento nesting on the iron girders of the building, so thatwould not do. In desperation, the Queen said, "Sendfor the Duke of Wellington." The Duke said that hewas no bird- catcher, but nonetheless presentedhimself at Buckingham Palace as bidden. Aconsultation was held. The Duke, always a man of fewwords, went up to the Queen and said simply,"Sparrow hawks, ma'am." In due course the sparrowsflew out of the crystal building in a body, never to be

seen again.17

Nothing can better illustrate the exceptional position ofthe Duke of Wellington than the occasion of his death,on 14th September 1852, which gave rise tounparalleled national grief. His corpse was broughtfrom Walmer Castle to London on 10th November.As it started its journey, a most unusual thing happened— there was an earthquake in England. The shockwas mild, but it was certainly felt, more strongly inLiverpool and Birkenhead than anywhere else. Somepeople thought there were robbers under the bed,others that it was the cat! Clocks were stopped, andcrockery slid from dressers all over the area. Only theanimals seem to have recognised instinctively thatsomething more serious was afoot; dogs howled andtrembled, cattle lowed and ran amok.18 When theDuke's body arrived in London the earthquake hadceased.On the first day of the lying-in-state there were scenes

of terrifying confusion. A huge multitude surgedforward to see the body, and soon found themselvestrapped in panic. Children were held aloft to escapesuffocation, there were frightful shrieks and screams of

agony. Three people were crushed to death, followedby two more on the last day.The funeral itself was the most impressive ever held,

though Greville found it "tawdry, cumbrous, andvulgar".19 The funeral car was drawn by twelve blackhorses (only six horses drew the Queen's carriage). Itweighed eighteen tons, and had been made from themetal of guns captured at Waterloo. One hundred menhad taken eighteen days to build the carriage, whichcan still be seen in the crypt of St Paul's. Behind therefollowed the Duke's own horse, led by his own groom.In St Paul's there were fifty-four candlesticks, sevenfeet high, and twelve silver candelabra in front of thebier.20 It was as if the nation could not extend itself farenough to demonstrate its loss. The Times wrote: "Itwas impossible to convey any idea of the emotion feltby the nation, nothing like it had ever been manifestedbefore."21 The French Ambassador, Count Walewski,a natural son of Napoleon I, was reluctant to attend thefuneral, and had to be ordered to do so by LouisNapoleon. Baron Brunnow commented: "If thisceremony were intended to bring the Duke to life

again, I can conceive your reluctance to appear at it;but as it is only to bury him, I don't see you haveanything to complain of."22

When the drums rolled, QueenVictoria burst into tears.

Indeed, not the least astonishing aspect of aremarkable career is the reverence shown by theFrench towards the man who defeated them. The Dukewas never vindictive towards a defeated enemy, agenerous quality which he shared with Marlborough.The period of his rule in Paris was even rememberedwith affection. On one occasion, not long afterWaterloo, Wellington was spotted in civilian clothes atthe Paris Opera with Lord and Lady Castlereagh. Thecry went up, "Vive Wellington!" and the conquerorwas mobbed on his way out of the theatre. OneFrenchman was heard saying to another, "Maispourquoi I'applaudissez-vous tant? II nous atoujours battus." "Oui," said the other, "mais il nousa battus en gentithomme."

The French also admired, and envied, and wereexasperated by, his imperturbable English phlegm. The

Marquise d'Assche wrote : "I would willingly havethrottled him from the impatience which his phlegmcaused me and the ease of his conversation." There isno better instance of nonchalance than his famousappearance at the Duchess of Richmond's ball, the eveof Waterloo, when the French were threatening, and heput his phlegm to strategic use in showing them thatthey caused him no particular concern and would notprevent his enjoying his dinner. After eating, Wellingtonturned to Richmond and whispered a priceless remark."Have you got a good map in the house?"24

The man known simply to posterity as "The Duke"had been born Arthur Wellesley (or Wesley). The titleof Wellington was selected for him by his brotherWilliam, "after ransacking the Peerage and examiningthe map". There was a place in Somerset calledWelleslie, and not far away a town called Wellington. "Itrust that you will not think there is anything unpleasantor trifling in the name of Wellington," wrote William. "Ithink you have chosen most fortunately," said ArthurWellesley.25 It is now recalled by the capital of NewZealand, by a mountain in Tasmania, by the Wellingtonboot, the Wellington apple, the Wellington barracks,

and a giant Californian sequoia tree, not to mentionnearly forty London streets called Wellington,seventeen called Wellesley, and over thirty pubs.Queen Victoria opened Wellington College as hismemorial in 1859, while he himself had been present atthe opening of Waterloo Bridge in 1817. He had risenthrough the peerage to Duke in the space of only fiveyears (Viscount 1809, Earl 1812, Marquess 1812,Duke 1814): a unique example. He was also awardeda Spanish dukedom, a Portuguese dukedom, Prince ofWaterloo in the Netherlands, and twenty-threeseparate knighthoods from various countries.Marlborough's name before elevation to the peerage

had been John Churchill, the son of Sir WinstonChurchill, m.p., an historian and intense royalist as wellas a politician. Sir Winston's parents were JohnChurchill and Sarah Winston, and his wife was thedaughter of Elizabeth Villiers; sister to the Duke ofBuckingham, thus bringing a strain of Villiers blood toall succeeding Churchills.The Churchills had originally come from Dorsetshire,

though the claim of descent from one Roger deCourcil, Comrade-in-Arms of William the Conqueror,

is probably fanciful. It was Sir Winston who first madethe name Churchill a household word, as did hisdescendant and namesake, our own Sir Winston, 300years later. The fortunes of the Churchills lay in theirclose relationship with the Stuarts. Sir Winston'sdaughter Arabella was mistress to the Duke of York,later James II. She bore him a son, the Duke ofBerwick, who fought for the French againstMarlborough; and several other children.Arabella's brother, young John Churchill, was

appointed a Page of Honour to the Duke of York.Later, his wife Sarah was made a Lady of theBedchamber to Princess Anne, whose close friend shebecame (they called each other "Mrs Morley" and"Mrs Freeman") and over whom she wielded a singularinfluence. It was John and Sarah Churchill whopersuaded Anne to accept William of Orange on thethrone of England, as a direct reward for which Johnwas made Earl of Marlborough. His titles were createdin three different reigns; he was created BaronChurchill by James II in 1685, Earl of Marlborough byWilliam and Mary in 1689, and Marquess ofBlandford and Duke of Marlborough by Queen Anne

in 1702, on the Queen's own initiative, without waitingfor the recommendation of Parliament. The title ofMarlborough was chosen, although he had no propertythere, because his mother had been distantly related tothe Ley family, who had been Earls of Marlborough inthe previous century. In 1704 he won his magnificentvictory at Blenheim, with 22,000 acres and the buildingof Blenheim Palace as his reward.Had he not been such a splendid general,

Marlborough would most likely have beenovershadowed by his tempestuous wife, Sarah; she itwas who had the more dominant personality, sweepingnot only her husband but Queen Anne herself into itspower. It is interesting that Wellington should defendMarlborough, praise his sagacity, on the grounds that"his errors were due to his wife".28 She hasbequeathed some of her extravagant characteristics togenerations of Churchills, most noticeably herpugnacity and her quarrelsome nature. The formeremerged particularly in the late Sir Winston, whoexuded so much pugnacity that the surplus wasabsorbed and assumed by his compatriots in time ofcrisis, while the latter has been the cause of constant

bickerings, squabbles, feuds and ruptures among theDukes of Marlborough through the ages.

Duchess Sarah quarrelled with everyone, with herfamily, her lawyers, her architect Vanbrugh. She wasforever involved in one lawsuit or another. Herveycalled her "Old Aetna" or "Vesuvius", always on thepoint of explosion, and when he saw her coming,looking "cross as the devil", he would make himselfscarce. There are famous stories of Sarah's impulsivetemper. Furious with her grand-daughter LadyBateman, whom she suspected of encouraging theMarlborough heir in a disastrous marriage, she tooksome black paint and smeared it over a portrait ofLady Bateman on the wall, writing on the frame: "Nowher face is as black as her heart." She had verybeautiful long hair. In the midst of an argument with herhusband, she cut it all off in front of him and threw it onthe floor. (After his death the hair was found in one ofhis private drawers.) Lesser folk trembled at herapproach. She went one day to consult her lawyer inhis chambers, but had made no appointment. He wasout to supper. She told his clerk she would wait, but atmidnight she flew into a rage and left. The clerk said, "I

don't know who she was, she wouldn't give a name,but she swore so much she must be a lady of quality."27

Sarah gave a great dinner on her birthday to all herbrood of children and grand children. She comparedthe family to a great tree, with herself the root and allher branches flourishing about her. Her grandson JohnSpencer (who was her favourite) remarked that thebranches would flourish more when the root wasunderground.28 It took some courage to bait theformidable old woman thus.

Sir John Vanbrugh, the architect of Blenheim, had thedevil's own job trying to extract payment from Sarah,whom he called "that wicked woman of Marlborough"."I have been forced into Chancery by that BBBB old Bthe Duchess of Marlborough", Vanbrugh wrote to hisfriend Tonson. "She has got an injunction on me by herfriend the good Lord Chancellor, who declared that Iwas never employed by the Duke and therefore had nodemand upon his estate for my services at Blenheim. Ihave prevailed with Sir Robert Walpole to help me in ascheme which I proposed to him by which I get mymoney in spite of the hussy's teeth."29

There is another side of Sarah Marlborough whichhas also been passed down to her posterity, and whichgenerally receives less attention, and that is her gentle,epigrammatic wisdom, with a gift for well-structured,beguiling expression in words. She once wrote, "I amvery fond of my three dogs, they have all of themgratitude, wit, and good sense: things very rare to befound in this country. They are fond of going out withme; but when I reason with them, and tell them it is notproper, they submit, and watch for my coming home,and meet me with as much joy as if I had never giventhem good advice."50

She also said she was not only sure of going toHeaven but of obtaining one of the best places.51

The Marlborough succession did not begin well. Johnand Sarah's only son died in 11703, depriving thedukedom of an heir. An Act of Parliament was passedin 1706 enabling the title to pass through the femaleline, which meant that the eldest daughter, Henrietta,became 2nd Duchess of Marlborough in her own right(1681-1733). Unfortunately, her son and heir was areprobate who liked "low" company and had nothing torecommend him. He died at the age of thirty-one,

probably after a drinking bout, a sad unlamentedcharacter. If we are to believe Hervey, his mother shedno tears; she said that "anybody who had any regard toPapa's memory must be glad that the Duke ofMarlborough was now not in danger of beingrepresented in the next generation by one who musthave brought any name he bore into contempt".32 Thetitle then passed to Henrietta's nephew, son of the greatDuke's second daughter, who had married CharlesSpencer, Earl of Sunderland. All subsequent Dukes aredescended from this alliance of a male Spencer and afemale Churchill (the family name is now Spencer-Churchill). The Spencers gave to future generationstheir least attractive characteristics. Spencer's father,2nd Earl of Sunderland, was one of the most wicked,unprincipled villains in English public life. He was happyas long as he was at the centre of affairs, and would notscruple to betray allegiances in order to remain there.

The fruit of this alliance was the 3rd Duke ofMarlborough (1706- 1758), a sad and lonelycharacter, of generous impulses, but no talent. LordLandsdowne said he had "no force of characterwhatever"; it was more likely to have been smothered

by his grandmother, old Sarah, who detested him. Heseems to have embraced a military life simply becausehe was bored with staying at home and did not knowwhat else to do with himself. When he became Duke,he took over Blenheim Palace and all the Churchillproperty, but surrendered (quite willingly) the Spencerproperty to his brother John. There were two causesfor the explosive rupture between the new Duke andold Sarah. She wanted to lay claim to a portion of the1st Duke's personal estate, a matter which could quiteeasily be settled amicably, as the new Duke was anobliging man. "But as a suit with her to go on amicablywas a thing about as likely as for an oil-shop, set onfire, to be slow in burning",33 the whole businessballooned into a full-scale family row. Then the Dukeannounced his intention of marrying a daughter of LordTrevor (who had been a great enemy of hisgrand father Marlborough), and Aetna erupted in acloud of invective. She stormed and raged; the lady'sfather was a madman, she said, her mother a fool, hergrandfather a rogue, and her grandmother a whore.Sarah wrote: "The woman herself (as they say, for Ihave never seen her) has been bred in a very low way

and don't know how to behave herself upon anyoccasion; not at all pretty, and has a mean, ordinarylook. As to the behaviour, if she has any sense, thatmay mend. But they say she has very bad teeth, which Ithink is an objection alone in a wife, and they will besure to grow worse with time." The true objection didnot edge its way into view until much more spite andspleen had been vented, and then, it was the familiarold obsession with money - "a contemptible family, thechief of which cheated his grandfather by a falsemortgage of £10,000".34 So that was it. She had notgiven him Marlborough's sword "lest he should pick outthe diamonds and pawn them". It was at this point that,poisoned with acrimony, Sarah took a brush anddisfigured her grand-daughter's portrait. The poorDuke put up with it all patiently, the whole worldknowing that his grandmother loathed him, and GeorgeII had little time for him either. His wife did turn out tobe coarse in time. After his death, she fell in love withher son's tutor, Dr Moore, and proposed marriage; hediscreetly declined, but the connection served him well,for he was eventually Archbishop of Canterbury.

The 4th Duke of Marlborough (1739-1817), born in

the midst of squabbles, was a nervous, highly strungman. Self-consciousness made him shy, anembarrassment which he covered by a sullenover bearing manner. He was ill-at-ease, and madeothers feel so in his company, though they knew him tobe a decent, hospitable man. His marriage to adaughter of the Duke of Bedford was extremely happy.Like his contemporary, the Duke of Queensberry (OldQ), Marlborough indulged the fashionable habit ofemploying a running footman. These men could runcomfortably at about seven miles an hour, sometimesmore, sustained by white wine and eggs. An amusingpastime was to stage a race between horse andcarriage, and a running footman - it was something elseto bet on in the eighteenth century. The last such raceon record was between the Duke of Marlborough andhis footman. The Duke was in a carriage and four, andstarted from Windsor at the same time as the footman,with London as their goal. The Duke won, but onlyjust, and the footman died from the effects ofoverstrain."

By one account, this duke did not pronounce a singleword for three years, and was about to enter the fourth

year of silence when it was announced that Madame deStael, the French intellectual, was about to pay him avisit. "Take me away! Take me away!" he roared.36

His son the 5th Duke (1766-1840), who changedthe family name from Spencer to Spencer-Churchill byroyal licence, dated 26th May 1817, and who was thefirst man in England to abandon the foreign spelling ofMarquess (Marquis), spent a fortune on books. He itwas who bought the 1471 edition of Boccaccio fromthe Duke of Roxburghe's library in 1812, and foundedthe Roxburghe Club the same day. "He lived in utterretirement at one corner of his magnificent palace, amelancholy instance of the results of extra vagance."37

The 6th Duke of Marlborough (1793-1857) was anentirely different proposition. In him seem to have fusedthe tough indepen dent spirit of the Churchills and theintolerable amoral egoism of the Spencers. He hadsome of the qualities of a leader, and used them to baseends. Even as a boy he was first brought to notice fortrouble- making. At Eton there was a headmastercalled Keate, who took an inordinate pleasure inflogging boys. He boasted having flogged 200 in oneday, and regretted not having flogged more. At last the

boys rose in rebellion against the authoritarian rule, andran amok in the "Keate riots"; one of the ringleaderswas young Spencer-Churchill.

Lord Monson said that the boy was "one of thehandsomest lads I ever saw". In later years he was toturn his good looks to full advantage in a disreputableescapade. In 1817, while he was still styled LordBlandford, he began a liaison with a seventeen-year-oldgirl, Susan Adelaide Law, who lived with her parents inSeymour Place, Bryanston Square. She quite obviouslywas infatuated with him. Before long, he had made herpregnant, and she bore him a daughter. She must havebegged to be made a respectable woman (and aMarchioness), for though they were living together asCaptain and Mrs Lawson and she received anallowance from Marl borough funds, she was still onlyMiss Law. Blandford then staged a bogus marriage tosatisfy her. The marriage took place in her father'shouse, with Blandford's brother as witness, and anofficer in the army dressed up as a clergyman. LittleMiss Law was completely deceived. She travelled withher "husband" to Scotland, where she said she waspresented as the Marchioness of Blandford (though,

predictably, neither of the lords she met on thisoccasion would corroborate her). She must have beenthe only person to be taken in by the farce, since itseems hardly likely her parents did not know the truth.However, the matter became public knowledge when,years later, the Satirist newspaper stated that LordBlandford's subsequent marriage to Lord Galloway'sdaughter was bigamous, and that their children werebastards. The Blandfords had to take the matter tocourt, where the mock marriage was revealed, and itwas also discovered the Duchess of Marlborough hadbeen paying £400 a year to Miss Law (later reduced to£200), which went some way to redeem theMarl borough name. For Blandford, the judge hadsome harsh words to say.38

With his son, the 7th Duke of Marlborough, wecome close to the present day. The 7th Duke (1822-1883) married Fanny, daughter of Lord Londonderry,and their youngest son was Lord Randolph Churchill,father of Sir Winston. In fact, Winston Churchill washeir presumptive to the dukedom of Marlborough untilhe was eighteen; if his uncle had not had a son, Winstoncould have been a duke.

In the lifetime of the 7th Duke there erupted anotherfamily scandal, in which all the Spencer-Churchillfoibles of arrogance, quarrelsomeness, pig-headedness,and tempestuous obstinacy were brought into play. Itrevolved around the Marquess of Blandford, the eldestson, Randolph's brother and Winston's uncle. He hadmar ried Bertha Hamilton, daughter of the Duke ofAbercorn, a good- hearted but rather silly girl, knownto her family as "Goosie". In an age which delighted inpractical jokes, Goosie was the worst offender; sheamused herself putting inkpots over the door when herhusband walked in, placing a celluloid baby on hisbreakfast tray instead of a poached egg, as well as thefull gamut of apple-pie beds and tied pyjamas.Aristocratic ladies were bored to death in thenineteenth century not knowing what to do withthemselves between meals and decorous gossip. Themania for practical jokes sprang from that boredom(and persists to this day in some aristocraticdescendants). Bertha Blandford drove her husbandmad with her insufferable tricks and it is no wonder thathe looked elsewhere for affection.

So started the Aylesford scandal, the

details of which have often been related inprint. Essentially, Blandford and LadyAylesford decided to elope. That alone inmid-Victorian society was anincon ceivable scandal, sinning againstthe law of do-as-you-will-so-long-as- you-do-not-admit-it. It was made worse by theinvolvement of the Prince of Wales. TheMarlborough family and Lord and LadyAyles ford were in the Prince's "set", andAylesford himself was with the Prince inIndia when the scandal broke. H.R.H.called Blandford a blackguard, whereuponBlandford's brother, irascible LordRandolph, called upon the Princess ofWales and told her that the Princehim self had known Lady Aylesford well,and had addressed compromis ing lettersto her, which he, Randolph, would publishso that the Prince would never sit on thethrone of England. It was bald black mail.In the turmoil which followed, the Princeescaped unscathed, the Aylesfords wereruined, and the Marlborough family wastem porarily banished from the bestcircles. The old Duke was made bitterlyunhappy, although it must be said heshowed precious little understanding ofhis son's dilemma. Tempers were raw, no

one stopped to reason calmly (exceptBlandford, who wrote his father somecogent literate letters which did no good atall but which revealed some of theChurchill power for expression in prose).

From this date, too, appears anunbreachable gulf between fathers andsons in the Marlborough sequence,reminiscent of the Russells, and mostvividly' shown in Winston's relations withhis father. Bertha Blandford was herselfthe daughter of a Russell, the Duchess ofAbercorn.

Bertha divorced her husband shortlybefore he became Duke, on the grounds ofproven adultery with the Countess ofAylesford. The new Duke of Marlborough(1844-1892) married again, this time anAmerican; the ceremony was performed bythe Mayor of New York at the TabernacleBaptists Church on 2 nd Avenue.

We know something of the 9th Duke(1871-1934) through the memoirs of hiswife, Consuelo Vanderbilt. Her story isparticularly interesting because itrepresents one of the last instances of a

purely arranged marriage, in which loveplayed no part. English ducal families hadtaken such marriages in their stride as anecessary con tribution towardsmaintaining rank, in itself far moreimportant than happiness, and few womensacrificed in this way ever saw fit tocom plain. Consuelo was different. Fromsturdy independent American stock, shehad no worship for the idea of family.

Consuelo Vanderbilt was the daughterof one of the handful of truly wealthyAmericans. The Vanderbilt millions werelegendary when the Duke of Marlboroughbegan looking around. Consuelo's motherhad everything that money could buy, tentimes over, but one thing eluded her -status. Mrs Vanderbilt determined that herdaughter would marry into the Englisharistocracy. Consuelo was a victim ofmaterial ambition, and of dwindling fundsin ducal pockets. She lived at a time whenit was more and more common for Britishdukes to protect their assets by marryingAmerican heiresses - May Goelet marriedthe Duke of Roxburghe in 1903 and HelenaZimmerman became Duchess ofManchester in 1900. Both women were

friends of the Vanderbilts; indeed,Consuelo was named after a previousAmerican Duchess of Manchester, hergodmother - Consuelo Iznaga del Valle.

Mrs Vanderbilt was quite merciless in the pursuit ofher aims. Once she had the Duke of Marlborough inher sights, no amount of tears or protests from herdaughter would shift her. Consuelo was already in lovewith someone else, so she had to be imprisoned in herown house to make sure she would never meet him.She was not allowed out, her letters were interceptedand read, and her outgoing mail was censored.Cunningly, Mrs Vanderbilt let it be known that herdaughter would consider an approach from the Duke.A meeting was arranged. They did not like each otherat all, but that was not the point. He, too, was in lovewith someone else, who was not suit able. He was notslow to see the advantage, financially speaking, of sucha union. For the sake of the continued wealth of theMarl- boroughs, he was prepared to sacrifice himself.We do not know if he considered the sacrifice she wasmaking; perhaps there was none, in his eyes. He wasgiving her the rank of a duchess and the privilege of

belonging to the Churchill family. "When I broke thenews of our engagement to my brothers," wroteConsuelo, "Harold observed, 'He is only marrying youfor your money', and with this last slap to my pride Iburst into tears.'"9

And so they were wed, in 1896. There was not themerest surge of love between the two from thebeginning. They remained strangers to each other. Theyhad children, including the 10th Duke, but theircharacters were irreconcilable. The Duchess tells howtheir meals together at Blenheim would be painfullysilent, the Duke staring into space and she bored todesperation; mealtimes with Herbrand, nth Duke ofBedford, and his wife were exactly the same.

Consuelo's first meeting with the Dowager Duchess,Fanny, was frightening. She was told she must keep upthe prestige of the family at all costs, and she uttered acommand which must serve as one of the highestironies in British history. "Your first duty is to have achild," she said, "and it must be a son, because it wouldbe intoler able to have that little upstart Winstonbecome Duke. Are you in the family way?"40

The marriage settlement gave the Duke £20,000 a

year out of the Vanderbilt wealth, and income from a£500,000 fund. In the present generation this has beenaugmented by the millions she in herited from her father,and some of which she passed to her Marl boroughheirs. From that point of view, the marriage was asuccess. From the human view, however, it wasdisaster. From 1907, they lived apart, finally divorcingin 1921. She then married Jacques Balsan, and died in1964. His second marriage was to another Ameri can,Gladys Deacon, who knew Marcel Proust for years.She used to tell how Proust was fascinated by thesound of aristocratic names. He was most excited bythe name Duchess of Northumberland. "Je vaisl'annoncer," he said, got out of bed, opened wide thedoor, and yelled, "Madame la Duchesse deNorthumberland,"41

From Consuelo we also learn something of theChurchill character, which we can recognise in theDuke's antecedents and kinsmen. He had a passion forpageantry and magnificent spectacle (which Win stonshared), but was otherwise a silent brooder. Many ofthe dukes have had a morbid, pessimistic dark nature.

The 10th Duke of Marlborough (1897-1972),

Consuelo's son, did his best to retrieve Blenheim fromthe gloom in which his unhappy father had plunged it. Agreat deal was spent on restoration in 1966 (theMinistry of Works contributing £55,000), and thosegreat unwelcoming rooms, built to impress rather thanto be comfortable, heard some laughter. He continuedto live, however, in nineteenth- century fashion,choosing to ignore the changing times around him. Hehad wit, but a forbidding presence and gruff mannermade those who came into contact with himuncomfortable. On one occasion, an American guestasked politely if he might try one of the Duke's excellentcigars, and received the abrupt reply, "They don't growon trees, y'know." The 1st Duke would haveunderstood. After a row with Randolph Churchill he issupposed to have shouted, "Never darken the doorstepof my palace again !"

The Duke died only two months after his secondmarriage, to Laura Canfield, grand-daughter of the Earlof Wemyss, and was suc ceeded in the honours by hisson, the present Duke of Marlborough, born in 1926.

And what honours! Apart from being Marquess ofBlandford, Earl of Sunderland, Baron Spencer and

Baron Churchill in this country, he is a Prince of theHoly Roman Empire, and Prince of Mindelheim, inSwabia, dignities which he holds by virtue of hisdescent from the 1st Duke of Marlborough. Moreimpressive than any title is the sur name he bears, forhis ancestors and his kinsmen have elevated the nameof Churchill above any peerage degree. From SirWinston Churchill (1620-1688) to Sir WinstonChurchill (1874-1965), the family strengths andweaknesses have produced with consistency eitherspectacular or lamentable personalities, but rarely anindifferent one. They are not the kind of people that canbe ignored. Egotistical and explosive, they are fighters,who rise to a challenge and thrive on argument. Theyare not noted for their kindness. From the Sunderlandsthey inherit a passion for publicity, from Duchess Saraha per verse delight in confrontation, and from the 1stDuke a warmth of heart which has made them time andagain an easy prey to love. One feels that the Churchillslong to be sweet and gentle, but cannot help beingharsh and forbidding.

The 11th Duke of Marlborough was a captain in theLife Guards, then studied at an agricultural college. He

has married three times, always with the din of publicinterest around his ears. At his first marriage, to SusanHornby in 1951, the Queen (now Queen Mother),Queen Mary, and Princess Margaret were all present.The marriage was dissolved in 1960 on the grounds ofhis wife's adultery. A year later, in a chaotic Greekceremony in Paris where newsgatherers were ingreater number than guests, he married Athina Livanos,known to the world as "Tina" Onassis, as she hadpreviously been married to Aristotle Onassis, theGreek ship owner. Tina's life was a pathetic study inmalignant fate. Though beautiful, and enclosed on allsides by millionaires, tragedy stalked her. By hermarriage to Onassis, she had two children, a boy and agirl. Their son died in an air-crash at the age of twenty-four, and the daughter, Christina, has attemptedsuicide. Tina's sister twice married another millionaireGreek, Stavros Niarchos, before she, too, killedherself. Tina herself divorced Lord Blandford (he wasnot yet Duke) in 1971, and married her brother-in-law,the same Niarchos. Within two years, Tina was dead.Meanwhile, Blandford took as his third wife a

Swedish countess, Rosita Douglas, who is the present

Duchess of Marlborough. They have a son, born in1974. Meanwhile, the heir, born in 1955, son of thefirst marriage to Susan Hornby, has had hisindiscretions subjected to intense public scrutiny whilehis qualities go largely unnoticed. The Churchill sagaseems likely to continue as colourfully as ever.

The renown of the Duke of Wellington has been likea heavy hand clapped over the mouth of hisdescendants. So powerful is his legend, so brilliant hisreputation, that they have remained forever in hisshadow, borrowing their existence from him, speakingonly to pay tribute to him. Until very recently,successive Dukes of Wellington were virtuallyunnoticeable. The life of the Iron Duke's son, whosuc ceeded as 2nd Duke (1807-1884), illustrates veryclearly the emascu lating effect of a father only one stepshort of a deity. He tried to enter public life, wasMaster of the Horse, a Knight of the Garter, and aPrivy Councillor, but he did not make his mark. As hecould not be as great as his father (who could?) hedevoted himself to trying to please him. This was not soeasy either. He was once asked whether his father hadshown him any kindness, to which he replied, "No, he

never even so much as patted me on the shoulder whenI was a boy, but it was because he hated mymother."42 In adult life, too, Douro was alwaysendeavouring to merit the love of his eminent father. Onanother occasion, when the great Duke was at WalmerCastle, the officers of a neighbouring garrison called topay their respects. The major at this garrison was LordDouro, who thought it would be absurd to take part inthe visit, as he saw his father every day in the normalcourse. Consequently, the Duke invited all the officersto dinner, except his own son, and during the meal saidto the Colonel, "By the way, who is your major? for hehas not called on me."48

In the end, the 2nd Duke of Wellington dedicated hislife in the service of his father. He edited the IronDuke's correspendence in twenty-three volumes, anundertaking of such immensity that it can only havebeen a labour of love. "No son ever erected a finermonu ment."44 Augustus Hare met the Duke when hewas aged, "dressed like a poor pensioner", living atStratfield Saye amongst the relics of his father. Thiswas in 1875. "It was touching to see the old man, who

for the greater part of his lifetime existed in unlovingawe of a father he had always feared and been littlenoticed by, now, in the evening of life, treasuring upevery reminiscence of him and con sidering everymemorial as sacred. In his close stuffy little room werethe last pheasants the Duke had shot, the miniatures ofhis mother and aunt and of himself and his brother aschildren, his grand father's portrait, a good one ofMarshal Saxe, and the picture of the horseCopenhagen."46 He died, without fanfare, at Brightonrailway station. The next two dukes were both hisnephews, and the 5th Duke was his great-nephew. Allthree were inconspicuous, led military careers, andmarried modestly. In 1941 the 6th Duke of Wellingtonsuc ceeded (1912-1943); he was killed in action in thelanding at Salerno, and is buried in Italy. His death atthe age of thirty-one unexpectedly diverted thedukedom to his uncle, a clever diplomat and architectcalled Lord Gerald Wellesley (1885-1972), who was ason of the 4th Duke. Wellesley was well known beforehe came to the title, more so than the nephew whom hesucceeded, for he and his wife, Dorothy Wellesley,were near the centre of literary and artistic life in

London. Dorothy Wellesley was herself a distinguishedpoet, much admired by W. B. Yeats, with manyvolumes of verse to her credit. They were at home withthe Bells, Vanessa and Clive, or the Nicolsons, Haroldand Vita, more than in society drawing-rooms. Dorothywas a close friend of Vita Sackville-West (who, ofcourse, was a fellow poet) and it was she who first sawSissinghurst Castle and brought it to Vita and Harold'sattention; then they bought it and made it the famousromantic house and garden it is today. Wellesleyserved in the diplomatic service in Petrograd, spokefluent Russian, and revisited Russia in later years. Heserved in World War II. The restoration of Castle Hillin North Devonshire was the best known of hisarchitectural projects. In later years he earned muchadmiration as an historian; it is not generallyacknowledged that the keepers of museums andarchives throughout the country held the Duke in veryhigh regard, for he was a gentleman intellectual,informed in all branches of the arts and accomplished inmany of them. He wrote five books, four of whichwere on the subject of his illustrious ancestor. His mostprecious inheritance was the great archive at Apsley

House and Stratfield Saye which he and his librarianFrancis Needham both skilfully arranged andpreserved. His wife died in 1956, after a lifetime'ssuffering from neuritis of the extremities, which madethe tips of her fingers permanently tense. The Dukespent the rest of his life bringing to public attentionmore and more information about the 1st Duke ofWellington.

If anyone should not yet be convinced of the powerof genetic inheritance, he might reflect for a moment onthe Wellington line, and on the Marlboroughcharacteristics. The word "duty" was never off the IronDuke's lips from one day to the next; his despatchesand correspondence are full of references to duty. Itwas the concept by which he ruled his life. His sonburnt midnight oil editing the Duke's letters for publicconsumption, impelled by a sense of duty. GeraldWellesley, the 7th Duke, gave his London home to thenation out of duty. In 1947 he made over to thecountry Apsley House at Hyde Park Corner, whoseaddress has long been No. 1, London, con verting itinto a museum full of personal relics of Wellington, andretaining for himself a small flat on the top floor, free of

rent and rates. Apsley House was the Duke's personalproperty, having been bought by the Iron Duke, ratherthan it having been given to him by the nation, as wasthe case with Stratfleld Saye. It is now adminis teredby the Victoria and Albert Museum. His son, the 8thand present Duke of Wellington (1915— ), has spentmore than £135,000 on converting part of the groundsat Stratfield Saye into a pleasure park for urbandwellers who need some pleasant rural surroundings,money that he can expect very little return on, since heeschews lions and funfairs. "I have a duty to provideland for recreation," he said, adding that it was for him"an opportunity to repay in some measure the debt ofgratitude our family owes to the nation".48 The house

was opened to the public in 1974.[8]

Fittingly, the 8th Duke of Wellington has had amilitary career, serving in World War II, and at onetime commanding the House hold Cavalry. His duchessis the daughter of a major-general, and they have foursons and a daughter; the heir, Lord Douro, was born in1945. Wellington holds a number of honours awardedto himself, instead of inherited, including the Legion

d'Honneur from France, the M.V.O., the O.B.E. andthe M.C. They cannot, of course, compare with theresplendent list he has inherited from the Iron Duke,whereby he is Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo in Spain, and aGrandee of the First Class in that country, Duke ofVittoria in Portugal, and Prince of Waterloo. He stillreceives £571 annually from the Belgian government inrecognition of the victory of Water loo.

Perhaps we are not meant to expect justice in geneticinheritance, but we cannot be reproached for observingits absence. The Welles- leys are a more preferablerace of men and women than the Churchills; they havegrace and tact, decent manners and an agree ablenature which makes for good company; they have, too,inherited a concept of honour which they would not(cannot) disgrace. None of this could be said of theChurchills, who have shown themselves time and againto be unkindly, rude, boorish, erratic, irascible, hot-tempered and egotistical. And yet it is the Churchillsthat continue to breed men of exceptional ability, menwho have been in and out of the pages of our historyfor centuries, while the Wellesleys pro duced only oneman, a giant, but a giant alone, in whose shadow all

descendants shrink to human size.references

1 . D.N.B.2. W. M. Thackeray, The Four Georges, p. 33.3. Elizabeth Longford, Wellington, Vol. II, p. 405.4. Greville, VI, 364.5. D.N.B.6. Edith Marchioness of Londonderry, Frances

Anne, p. 99.7. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life, p. 162.8. Longford, op. cit., I, 166-7.9. Winston S. Churchill, Marlborough, Vol. I, pp.

69-70.10. ibid., I, 143.11 . Hist. MSS. Comm., Bathurst MSS, p. 216. -12. D.N.B.13. Churchill, op. cit., 1,470.14. Literary Gazette, 1827, p. 121, from the Earl of

Bridgewater'sFamily Anecdotes.

15. Walpole, XXV, 609.16. Emma Lady Brownlow, Slight Reminiscences of

a Septuagenarian, p. 144.

17. Cecil Woodham-Smith, Queen Victoria, Vol. I,p. 220.

18. Annual Register, 1852, p. 187.19. Greville, VI, 370.20. Annual Register, 1852, p. 485.21. The Times, 18th November 185 2.22. Greville, VI, 372.23. Lady Brownlow, op. cit., p. 45.24. Longford, op. cit.h I, 419.25. ibid., p. 198.26. Greville, V, 125.27. Old and New London,!, 176.28. Greville, IV, 434.29. quoted in Martin S. Briggs. Men of Taste.30. Sarah, Duchess Dowager of Marlborough,

Opinions (1788),P- 15-

31. Nina Epton, Milord and Milady, p. 93.32. Hervey and His Friends, p. 83.33. Lady Louisa Stuart, Introductory Anecdotes to

Life and Letters

of Lady Mary Wortley-Montagu.34. Lord Hervey and His Friends, pp. 288,295.35. Leaves from the Notebooks of Lady Dorothy

Nevill, p. 135.36. Gronow, quoted in Epton, op. cit., p.114.

37. Annual Register, 1840.38. Annual Register, 1838, pp. 294-6.

39. Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan, TheGlitter and the Gold, p. 40.

40. ibid., p. 57.

41. Harold Nicolson, Diaries, Vol. I, p.150.

42. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life,p. 149.

43. ibid., p. 162.

44. Complete Peerage.45. Augustus Hare, op. cit., p. 81.

Daily Telegraph, 10th july, 1974.

7. What Happened to the Percys?

Duke of Northumberland

Hugh Algernon Percy is the uncrowned King ofNorthumberland. He lives in an impregnable, grey,austere medieval fortress, Alnwick Castle, which wasbuilt in 1100 and has been the home of his ancestorssince 1309; his estate covers 98,000 acres with 3500separate tenancies and is one of the best run in thecountry; he is Lord Steward of Her Majesty'sHousehold, a post which still carries some duties (heannounces the guests at State banquets); and he ishimself a walking definition of ducal affinity - hisbrother-in-law is the Duke of Sutherland, his nephew isDuke of Hamilton, his father- in-law was the late Dukeof Buccleuch, his grandfather was Duke of Richmond,and his great-grandfather Duke of Argyll. More than allthis, he is the head of the Percys, a family which cantrace its ancestry to the year 886, the Percys who gaveus Hotspur, immor talised by Shakespeare, andBlessed Thomas Percy, beheaded by Elizabeth I.

Who were the Percys? The were aprominent Norman family, descended fromMainfred, a Danish chief who settled inNormandy in 886, before the time of Rollo.Their chief seat was at a place called Perci,and according to the custom they tooktheir name from their property. The firstmember of the family to come to Englandwas William de Percy (1030 1096), anintimate friend of William the Conqueror;he came in 1066 or 1067, and was known asWilliam "als gernons" or "William with theWhiskers". The name Algernon has beenpersistently in the family ever since. ThisWilliam de Percy "als gernons"established himself in the north of Englandimmediately, and by the time DomesdayBook was compiled, he was listed as beinglord of over 100 manors. His descendantsbore the title Baron Percy.

It is an illustrious pedigree, second tonone. Only one thing is wrong: the Duke isnot really a Percy at all. His name shouldbe Smithson.

The Percy family came to an end in the twelfth century,when there was no male issue of the 3rd Baron Percy.The heiress was Agnes, the last representative of the

family. But the name of Percy was preserved. Agnesmarried Josceline de Louvain (himself a man of somenote, the son of the Duke of Brabant and a descendantof Charlemagne), making it a condition of the marriagethat he should adopt the name of Percy. With all theproperty he was to obtain from her, it was an easyconcession to make. His descendants founded the lineof Earls of Northumberland which people the historyplays of Shakespeare.

There was the 1st Earl (1342-1408), a friend ofRichard II who turned traitor and was largelyresponsible for placing Henry IV (Bolingbroke) on thethrone. There was his son, the tempestuous sabre-rattling Sir Henry Percy, nicknamed "Hotspur" by hisenemies the Scots, who marvelled that he loved battlesso much he could not keep out of them; Hotspur ledthe English forces at the Battle of Otterburn. There wasthe 4th Earl (1446-1489), who along with the 1st Dukeof Norfolk was a close supporter of Richard III, thoughhe did not fight at Bosworth; his son and successor was"Henry the Magnificent", who lived like a king, and hisgrandson was "Henry the Unthrifty" who all his life wasin love with Anne Boleyn. He naturally made way for

Henry VIII, but he might well have married her had notthe King taken a liking to her. Anne's deathundoubtedly shortened the Earl's own life; he waspresent at her trial, and was so overcome that he grewpale and had to leave. He died on the day of herexecution.

His successor was his nephew, the 7th Earl ofNorthumberland, known as "Blessed Thomas Percy".An ardent Catholic, he led a rebellion against ElizabethI in 1569, in company with the Earl of Westmorland.His purpose was to restore the Catholic religion inEngland, and to place Mary Queen of Scots on theEnglish throne. He was captured and beheaded in themarket-place at York in 1572, the same year in whichthe unfortunate 4th Duke of Norfolk lost his head forsimilar offences.

The next in line was Blessed Thomas's brother, whocommitted suicide in the Tower of London in 1585,and was succeeded by the 9th Earl, who spent sixteenyears of his life imprisoned there. One of Guy Fawkes'saccomplices in the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 wasThomas Percy, a cousin of the Earl of Northumberland.The Earl was suspected of being a party to the

conspiracy, and of wanting to place himself at the headof the Papists in England. The charges were notproven, but his imprisonment was by way of keepinghim out of mischief. He was a learned man, consortingwith mathemati cians and scientists in his cell, andwriting some sensible Advice to His Son which waseventually published in 1930. The sundial on MartinTower was placed there for Nothumberland's benefit.

Algernon Percy, 10th Earl ofNorthumberland (1602-1668), a moderateParliamentarian, was entrusted with thecare of Charles I's children in 1645, andplayed a prominent part in the Restorationof the monarchy. He married twice; first toa daughter of the Cecil family, in spite ofhis father's deep disapproval, who saidthat "the blood of Percy would not mixwith the blood of Cecil if you poured it ona dish".1 That may well have been, but thetrouble was that there was very little of thePercy blood left, and something had to bedone. The marriage produced fivedaughters, and the wife died. His secondwife was a daughter of the Howards;through this marriage he and hisdescendants gained possession ofNorthampton House (built by Henry

Howard, Earl of Northampton),subsequently known as NorthumberlandHouse, and occupying a prize positionwhere Northumberland Avenue now runs,from the river to Trafalgar Square. Thissecond marriage produced one son, the11th Earl, who in turn had a son who diedin infancy. With that child, the Percyscame to an end, for the second time in theirlong history. All that was left was onedaughter, the Lady Elizabeth Percy, whobecame the loneliest and richest heiress inthe country when her father died in 1670,at the age of twenty-five. A mere infant offour years she carried a heavy burden; shewas the owner of vast estates; the Earldomof Northumberland and the Barony ofPercy were now extinct, and the ancientfamily of Percy would die with her. Shewas the most eligible heiress in England,and as a result the poor girl was marriedthree times before she was sixteen.

To understand how the modern Duke ofNorthumberland can tell himself a Percywhen the Percy line came to an end in1670, one must examine the complicatedseries of accidents and designs whichinvolved the descendants of LadyElizabeth Percy. Elizabeth, nick named

"Carrots" because of her red hair, waspestered by suitors. Charles II wanted heras a wife for one of his bastard sons, butthis time he was unlucky. At the age oftwelve, she was made to marry the Earl ofOgle, who died six months later. Hersecond husband was Thomas Thynne ofLongleat, who was murdered by hiredassas sins in Pall Mall at the behest ofanother jealous suitor, CountKoningsmark. Twice a widow at the age ofsixteen, she finally mar ried in 1682 thatpreposterous "Proud" Duke of Somerset(see Chapter 1). It is not even possible tosay that she lived happily ever after, sincelife as the Duchess of Somerset, theconsort of a mad over bearing tyrant,cannot have been pleasant. She died in1722, and all her Percy estates becamevested in the dukedom of Somerset.Im mediately, their son, AlgernonSeymour, was created Baron Percy topreserve his mother's name.

Algernon married and produced a son and daughter.The son was Lord Beauchamp, heir to the dukedom ofSomerset and eventual heir to the Percy property;Alnwick Castle, would, in the normal course, pass

down with the dukedom of Somerset. The daughterwas Eliza beth Seymour, who in 1740 made amarriage of significance to our story.Elizabeth Seymour's husband was a Yorkshire squire,

Sir Hugh Smithson, Bart. She was thereupon known asLady Betty Smithson, and for the next four years therewas no reason to suppose that Sir Hugh and LadyBetty would change their status in life. He was heir tono title. Then, in 1744, Lady Betty's brother LordBeauchamp suddenly died, an event which threw allthe related families into dis array. It meant the eventualend of that line of Seymours, and it made Lady Bettysole heiress to some of the Seymour estates, and to allthe Percy estates of her grandmother. It also made SirHugh Smithson a very important man indeed.The fate of the Seymours, the Percys and the

Smithsons was settled in a kaleidoscope of eventsbetween 1748 and 1750. First, the Proud Duke ofSomerset died, and was succeeded as 7th Duke by hisson Algernon, Betty's father. In 1749, the 7th Duke ofSomerset was made 1st Earl of Northumberland of anew creation. And as he had no male heirs, a mostunusual stipulation was included in the patent of

creation, according to which the title and Percy estates(including Alnwick Castle) should pass at his death tohis son-in-law Smithson, and subsequently toSmithson's heirs by the body of Lady Betty. In 1750the 7th Duke of Somerset died. The dukedom passedto a very distant kinsman (ancestor of the presentDuke of Somerset), and the new earldom ofNorthumberland passed to Sir Hugh Smithson, whopromptly assumed the name and arms of Percy by Actof Parliament.Almost a century had passed since the last Earl of

Northumber land had died, well beyond the memoryof those alive in 1750. Smithson had married, not aPercy, but a Seymour, great-grand daughter of the lastPercy. That he should now become a Percy wasaltogether an amazing piece of invention.The Smithsons were themselves a modest but ancient

Yorkshire family. In Domesday Book there is listed acertain Malgrun de Smethton, from whom there is aclear descent to Sir Hugh. But this was little comparedto the majesty of Alnwick Castle and the riches whichcame from ownership of several thousand acres.Unfortunately the signs are that Smithson's sudden

elevation to the highest ranks went straight to his head.His style of living became ostentatious, his manner

overbearing. Honours and favours were heaped uponhim, but they served only to fuel his vanity. Selwyndescribed him at dinner as "nothing but fur anddiamonds", and Dr Johnson exclaimed that he "is onlyfit to succeed himself".2 He paraded his status andflashed his money, both in gambling for unnecessarilyhigh odds, and, fortunately, in renovating and improvingall three of his great palaces. His wife made a tactlesspoint of being attended by more footmen than theQueen, and travelling with a greater retinue ofcoaches.3 She had "such a pyramid of baubles uponher head that she was exactly like the Princess ofBabylon". The newspapers called her "Duchess ofCharing Cross".4 Walpole regarded him as mediocre,and wrote bitterly of his self-aggrandisement; Walpolewas childishly jealous of Smithson's brilliant rise in rankand position, and allowed his spite to colour hisjudgement. He put about the story that Smithson'sgrandfather had been a coachman. Still, the measure ofSmithson's character shows through Walpole's rancour.

"The old nobility beheld his pride with envy and anger",he writes, "and thence were the less disposed tooverlook the littleness of his temper, or the slenderportion he possessed of abilities; for his expense was amere sacrifice to vanity, as appeared by his sordid andilliberal behaviour at play. Nor were his talents moresolid than his generosity. With mechanic application toevery branch of knowledge, he possessed none beyondthe surface; and having an unbounded propensity todiscussion, he disgusted his hearers without informingthem . . . Lord Northumber land's foibles ought to havepassed almost for virtues in an age so destitute ofintrinsic merit."5

Walpole's judgement was supported by the Londoncrowd, which has always been a keen barometer ofworth in a man. Londoners are not fooled by show orpretension; they are quick to deflate a man whose headhas swollen. Northumberland was extremely unpopularwith the crowd. He was once forced from his carriageand robbed of his watch and purse. He was suspectedof being unscrupulous as well; his candidate wasopposing Wilkes at the election in Brentford,Mid dlesex, when a riot took place at one election

meeting, and two men were killed in the crush.Northumberland was accused of having hired the mob,and was almost prosecuted for murder. The crowdsforced him and his wife to drink Wilkes's health inpublic.

To be Earl of Northumberland was notenough for his vanity, although it hadsatisfied generations of the real Percys. Hewas pro posed as Lord Chamberlain, butthe Marquess of Hertford was appointedinstead. Northumberland demanded somesort of advance ment by way ofcompensation, and when a marquessatewas sug gested, he insisted that he shouldhave a dukedom. The 'King reluctantlyagreed.

Another dukedom was to be created atthe same time, and offered to the Earl ofCardigan, who had married Lady MaryMontagu. Both creations were subject tolimitations; first, that both men shouldresign all their offices; second, that theirheirs should be limited to those begottenon their present wives, excluding all otheroffspring. Cardigan refused theseconditions, saying that he thought titleswere honours and rewards, not

punishments.6 But Northumberlandacqui esced, and obtained his precedence.He wanted the title Duke of Brabant, whichhad belonged to the ancestors of theearlier Earls of Northumberland throughJosceline de Louvain, but this would notbe appropriate, as it was not an Englishtitle. It is doubtful whether it would be inthe King's power to grant it, withoutinventing it out of the blue. So he settledfor Northumberland, and Hugh Percy (neSmithson) became 1st Duke ofNorthumberland and Earl Percy in 1766,and Viscount Lovaine of Alnwick in 1784.He is the direct ancestor of the presentDuke.

The only inconvenience which mightupset matters would be the suddenappearance of a genuine Percy heir. Theywere not wanting. One claimant, calledJames Percy, had pressed his rightspersistently for twenty years, immediatelyafter the death of the last Earl ofNorthumberland in 1670. He was atrunkmaker, and he wanted to be an Earl.He petitioned the House of Lords, claimingdescent from one Percy after another, all ofwhom were proven to have died childless,

or unmarried. There had been a story thatduring Queen Elizabeth's reign, when itwas dangerous to be a Percy, some of thePercy children had been sent to Petworthin hampers. It was a romantic idea, butgroundless in fact. James Percy claimedthat his father had been one of thechildren hidden in the hamper. Thepassage of 100 years since the event,which would make his father fairly ancient,did not deter him. The Lords found againsthim, and sentenced him to be broughtbefore the courts at Westminster Hall,wearing around his neck a placard, onwhich should be written: "The False andImpudent Pretender to the Earldom ofNorthumberland."

James Percy was no threat, as he hadlong since been dead. Other claimantswere sprinkled about, though they wereless vociferous, and did nothing to presstheir view. Dr Johnson knew a Dr Percy,who was said to "know" that he was theheir male of the Percys, and to have itproven by genealogists.7

The Duchess, who was described by Lady Harriet

Spencer as "very fat and has a great beard almost like aman",8 had been told that she would not live beyondher sixtieth birthday. So firmly did she believe theprediction, that she spent the last few days before thatbirthday taking leave of friends and staff, and makingnecessary ar rangements. On the day, she was confinedto bed, and was clearly ill. At six o'clock in the evening,she asked what time it was. "I have then still two hoursto live," she said, "for I was born at eight o'clock." Shedied two hours later, having lived sixty years to theminute.9

The Duke survived her by ten years. Later dukeshave not made any solid mark in history, though theyhave been very impor tant in Northumberland. Theirexcursions into political life have been, on the whole,unsuccessful. They lack the patience and equilibriumnecessary for a political career, and the desire to courtpopularity does not come easily to them. They arepious. The 6th Duke (1810- 1899) read prayers everyevening at ten o'clock in the family chapel. "It is the onlytime I have seen evening prayers in any country housefor the last fifteen years", wrote Augustus Hare.10 The

8th Duke (1880- 1930) wrote some highly competentshort stories, published posthum ously, which have areligious theme. The first of them, The Shadow on theMoor, is a very disturbing ghost story, told with atension in the narrative which many more famouswriters would envy. Most of the dukes have shown alove of learning. The 4th Duke (1792—1865) wentwith Herschel to the Cape, collected Egyptian

antiquities at Alnwick,[9] paid for the publication of themonumental Arabic Lexicon, and was F.R.S., F.S.A.,F.G.S., and F.A.S. In our own day Lord EustacePercy (1887-11958), son of the 7th Duke, in 1909came first in the Foreign Office competition, the mostrigorous examination in the country. He had a brilliantbrain, smothered by the anonymity of Whitehall. Hewrote an excellent life of John Knox. Lord RichardPercy, the present Duke's brother, is a lecturer inzoology at the University of Newcastle-upon-Tyne.

The Northumberlands have been noted for theirgenerosity. The 2nd Duke (1742-1817) wasparticularly generous towards the actor Kemble.Covent Garden Theatre was burned to the ground in

1808, representing financial ruin for Kemble, who hadrecently invested every penny he had in that theatre.The Duke gave him £10,000, which Kemble refused toaccept as a gift, but considered a loan. Two monthslater the foundation stone of the new theatre was laid,and the Duke sent to Kemble the bond which Kemblehad written promising to repay the £10,000. With itwas a letter: "It being a day of rejoicing, he concludedthere would be a bonfire, and he therefore requestedthat the enclosed obligation might be thrown in, toheighten the flames."11 He was also friendly withCasanova, who visited him at Alnwick and apparentlypassed on to the Duke some of his conquests.

This Duke entertained twice a week at Alnwick,inviting tradesmen as well as aristocrats. When inflationreduced the value of money, he reduced his rents bytwenty-five per cent. He was a compassionate and justman, who won the respect of the enemy when hefought at Boston and Concord in the American War ofIndependence; he had a secret sympathy with theAmerican colonists, which matured as he examinedtheir reasons. His life was scarred by an unfortunatemarri age to Lady Anne Stuart, daughter of the Earl of

Bute, who was little short of a nymphomaniac. Shebestowed her favours on all and sundry, except that isfor her husband, who divorced her in 1779, afterfifteen years of fruitless marriage, and an unsavouryhearing before the House of Lords. The maid, SarahReekes, testified before their lordships that a youngCambridge gentleman, William Bird, Esq., was afrequent visitor to her mistress, and that she oftenfound them "undressed together", and "the bed muchtumbled".12 Percy married again, this time to thedaughter of a Customs officer who was later ennobled,Frances Burrell, by whom he had several children,including his successor, the 3rd Duke ofNorthumberland (1785- 1847).The 3rd Duke was the only one of the

Northumberland line to make any sort of impact inpublic life, and that was not always for the best. Hewas enlightened, it was true; in 1807 he introduced abill for the abolition of slavery in the colonies, whichwas counted out in the House and led to naught. Headvised against the appli cation of class distinction inthe administration of criminal law, and alwayscountered arguments of which he disapproved by the

cool assessment of factual evidence. As the factschanged, so his opinion would change in accordance;he lacked the uncompromising nature of the truepolitician, being more of a political philosopher himself.He was, if a label were needed, a very moderate Tory,but he voted with the Whigs in the House ofCommons, and with the Tories in the House of Lords.But how often can the most laudable of causes bejeopardised by unattractive advocates. The Duke ofNorthumberland was not an ally one would welcome.His philosophy was in the end quite shallow, the resultof a half-educated man, and he possessed theweaknesses of his family - ostentation and an artlessconversation. Lady Holland thought him a "weak, sillyman ... a poor creature, vain, ostentatious and null".13

When he was appointed Ambassador Extraordinary atthe coronation of Charles X in Paris, he took with himtwenty carriages, and added £8000 of diamonds to thefamily necklace. His appointment as Lord Lieutenant ofIreland was extremely unpopular. Greville wrote ofhim: "He is a very good sort of man, with a verynarrow understanding, an eternal talker, and aprodigious bore ... he has no political opinions ... an

absolute nullity, a bore beyond all bores, and, in spiteof his desire to spend money and be affable, veryunpopular. The Duchess complains of it and can'timagine why, for they do all they can to be liked, but invain." Greville concludes with a gesture of dismissalwhich makes one feel for the poor Duke in hismedieval castle: "no one cares for such a man ofstraw".14

Of him it is recorded that he was pressed by hisambitious wife to petition for the Garter immediatelyupon his succession to the duke dom in 1817. LordGranville demurred, politely but firmly. The Duke said,"Then your Lordship will agree that I am the first Percywho was ever refused the Garter," to which Granvillereplied, "And moreover the first Smithson that everpresumed to think of it."15 (He got his Garter, as hadhis two predecessors. In point of fact, every Duke ofNorthumberland with the exception of the 5th has beenK.G.)

His duchess, Charlotte Florentia, was governess toPrincess Victoria between 1835 and 1837, until sheresigned owing to differences with the Princess'smother, Duchess of Kent, and her Svengali, Conroy.

The Duchess of Northumberland took herresponsibilities seriously, actually drawing up aprogramme of study for Victoria. An educated princesswas not what Conroy wanted, so the Duchess had toleave.18

The Northumberlands find a place in history for theirinvolvement with a British heroine Grace Darling(1815-1842). Grace and her father lived in theLongstone lighthouse off Fame Islands. On 7thSeptember 1838 a ship bound from Hull to Dundeewas wrecked off the coast, and Grace and her fatherrowed out to rescue the sur vivors, in the fullknowledge that their own lives were thereby at risk. Inthe public acclaim which followed, the Duke ofNorthumberland assumed the role of guardian to youngGrace, in a ponderous but well-meaning way. Thefamily have been associated with the RoyalNationalLifeboat Institution ever since (the present Duke beingTreasurer).

The 4th Duke, one of the kindest of men, is stillknown in the county as "Algernon the Benevolent",though he died as long ago as 1865, his tenants givinghim a sumptuous funeral.

Thereafter, we lose sight of subsequent dukes,except in the pages of Hansard. They were always, ofcourse, closely involved in local Northumberlandaffairs, and at Westminster they have held variouspolitical offices. But they have been austere; they donot appear to have come out in society very much. Oneof the 5th Duke's sons has the distinction of being theonly member of a ducal family to have won the VictoriaCross.

When we come to the 8th Duke, Alan Ian Percy(1880-1930), we approach modern times, although he,apparently, did not. All contemporary accounts refer tohim as an anachronism, entrenched in a feudalpaternalism which expected deference due to a mini-monarch. The Times called him "a strong Tory, militantand uncom promising",17 hinting as far as it dare at acertain narrow-mindedness. On 1st March 1921 theDuke addressed a meeting at the House of Commons."There is overwhelming evidence," he said, "that aninternational conspiracy exists which aims at thedestruction of all existing institutions of Government andsociety, of all religion, of all moral laws, and allproperty throughout the United Kingdom, India, our

Colonies, France and America." The conspiracy haddecided to attack us through India and Ireland, and theI.R.A. was a Bolshevist organisation directed fromMoscow. "One purpose in starting the rebellion first inIreland is to compel us to maintain so large a gar risonin that country that the forces of Great Britain may beinsuf ficient to deal with the Communist rising when ittakes place."18 The Duke of Northumberland madehimself the spokesman of a intransi gent, panickypessimism which, in the end, did him a disservice, for itmade his views appear to be grounded in emotion,whereas he had a crystal intelligence.

He also had considerable spirit. He once walkedfrom Montreal to Ottawa in sub-zero temperatures,taking a day and a night in the journey.

His duchess was Helen Gordon-Lennox, daughter ofthe Duke of Richmond, and a very distinguished lady.At the coronation in 1953 she looked more regal andsecure than any member of the Royal Family, and in away she was - her husband a duke, her brother a duke,and eventually both her sons dukes and both herdaughters duchesses : it is an impressive record.

The next duke (1912-1940) was killed in action

during World War II, leading a platoon of theGrenadier Guards at Tournai. He was succeeded byhis brother, the 10th and present Duke ofNorth umberland, k.g., t.d., f.r.s., born in 1914. TheDuke is a taciturn man who talks to his boots and hasthe rare gift of being quite relaxed in any situation. Hegives an impression of nonchalance which is perhapsdeceptive. He is urbane, elegant and witty. He issome thing of a revolutionary in the Northumberlandline for having sent his daughters to a council school.

Three-quarters of Alnwick Castle is now aTeachers' Training College, and the Duke's family usesthe remainder, contriving some how to make aforbidding edifice into a comfortable home. Theirquarters look out to the Auditor's Tower, where the6th Earl of Northumberland locked up his auditor untilhe would balance the books properly. In the librarythere are half a dozen drawings by Molly Bishop of theDuke's three beautiful daughters (one of whom marriedCount Pierre de Cabarrus in 1974). There are threesons. The heir, Lord Percy, was born in 1953 with theQueen as his god mother, only a month after hercoronation.

266

The Duchess, a daughter of the late Duke ofBuccleuch, is a woman of extraordinary energy. TheDuke, too, is a far from idle man. He headed theCommittee of Enquiry into the slaughter of horses,another committee into Foot and Mouth disease; he isPresi dent of the Royal Agricultural Society and of theBritish Show Jumping Association, and he is, naturally,Lord Lieutenant of Northumberland.

There was a time when the Northumberlandshad a magnificent town house in London.Northumberland House, pulled down in 1874, was

the last of the noblemen's palaces on the Strand. Thedemolition of this sumptuous palace marked the end ofthe Strand as it had been known, a long line ofbeautiful houses each with a garden down to theThames; it was then a road from London toWest minster. When commerce flooded into the area,Northumberland House was eventually swamped bylittle shops. According to tradi tion, the Earl ofNorthampton (for whom the house was originally built)had been ridiculed for building at the village of Charing,so far from his town residence. With the passage oftime, the house found itself in the centre of the hubbub

of modern London, and had to make way forNorthumberland Avenue. It was the oldest residen tialhouse in London, begun by a Howard, continued by aPercy, and completed by a Seymour, the home of theNorthumberlands for two and a half centuries, but theMetropolitan Board of Works said that it must go.Compensation of £497,000 was paid to the then Dukefor the compulsory purchase. The Duke removed thePercy lion which sat on the top of the house to hisMiddlesex property, Syon House, and he packagedmany of the cornices and fireplaces which he wished topreserve. Some of them are still in their packaging.

As for Syon House, that was opened to the public in1950 and the Duke lives there whenever he has to be inLondon. What of the rest of the Percy land? TheStanwick estate in Yorkshire was sold in 1920, andtwo years later there followed the Albury Park estate inSurrey (keeping, however, the mansion itself). Thecentre of the landholdings is still Alnwick.

It is ironic that the most famous member of theNorthumberland family is remembered in Americarather than in England. James Smithson (1765-1829)was the illegitimate son of the 1st Duke of

Northumberland by Elizabeth Hungerford Keate. Hewas born in France (it was customary for pregnantmistresses to be sent to the con tinent so that they mightresume a normal shape discreetly; the Duke ofDevonshire did the same each time Lady ElizabethFoster was ex pecting his offspring), and was knownfor a time as Louis Macie, then as James Lewis. Hestudied at Pembroke College, Oxford, where hisbrilliant scientific mind made him the leading chemistand miner alogist of his year. It was as mineralogist thathe made his name, and a carbonite of zinc is namedafter him - Smithsonite. He travelled widely in thecourse of his work, and died at Genoa at the age ofsixty-four. Smithson held extremely radical views, as farto the left as his father's descendants would be to theright. He thought that mon archy was "a contemptibleencumbrance". His republican sympathies account forhis having left almost his entire wealth to the UnitedStates, in those days the bright hope of the left-wingreformers. He was a very rich man, with money derivedfrom his mother, not his father, and the bequest hemade was quite specific: "to the United States ofAmerica, to be found at Washington, under the name of

the Smithsonian Institution, an establishment for theincrease and diffusion of knowledge among men". Twoyears later, £104,000 was sent from London to theUnited States, after negotiations with a per sonal envoyof the President, and the Institution was established in1846, the government of the U.S. agreeing to pay sixper cent on the capital in perpetuity. The first Secretaryof the Institute interpreted its functions as follows: "Toassist men of science in making original researches, topublish them in a series of volumes, and to give a copyof them to every first-class library on the face of theearth." In addi tion, it has conducted scientificexpeditions to all parts of the world. It is a source ofinformation to private citizens, and has a museumhoused in one of the most beautiful buildings inAmerica.While the Duke of Northumberland occupies thesplendid ances tral home of the descendants of AgnesPercy, his own family is com memorated not inEngland, but in the name of a scientific institution inWashington, D.C.

REFERENCES

1 . Fonblanque, The House of Percy, Vol. II, p. 370.2. Boswell, Life of Johnson, p. 447.3. Walpole, XXXIV, 23.4. Walpole, XXXII, 211.5. Walpole, Memoirs of the Reign of George III,Vol. I. p. 333.6. ibid., II, 260.7. Boswell, Life of Johnson, p. 931.8. Lady Bessborough and Her Family Circle, p.19.9. Diaries of a Duchess, ed. Grieg (1926) p. x.1 o. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life, p. 222.11 . Old and New London, Vol. Ill, p. 3211.12. House of Lords Journal, 2 1st January 1779.13. Lady Holland to Her Son, pp. 88,94.14. Greville, I, 240, 312,305.15. Literary Gazette, 1827, p. 154, from Earl of

Bridgwater'sFamily Anecdotes.

16. Cecil Woodham-Smith, Queen Victoria, Vol. Ipp. 97-9.

17. The Times, 25th August 1930.18. Conspiracy against the British Empire,pamphlet, 1st March

1921.

8. The Geraldine Ape

Duke of Leinster

Sometime between 1260 and 1270 there was adisastrous fire at the castle of Woodstock, near Athy inCounty Kildare, Ireland. It hap pened so quickly thatthere was no time to organise a sensible evacuation ofthe building. In their panic, people ran in all directionsto find a way out. They viewed the conflagration fromsafety, and when it had died down, they took stock. Totheir horror, they realised that in the confusion they hadleft behind the infant heir of the family, little JohnFitzThomas FitzGerald. The servants rushed back tothe house, and found his room in ruins; there was nosign of him. Then someone heard a strange sound fromthe roof of one of the towers. Looking up, they saw amonkey, normally kept chained up as a bizarre pet,carefully holding the baby in its arms. It had taken himout of his swaddling clothes, licked and cleaned him,and wrapped him up again carefully. The baby grew upto become the 1st Earl of Kildare, and to found the

illustrious family of the Kildare Geraldines (orFitzGeralds). In recognition of the extraordinary debtwhich the family.and all its descendants owe to thatmonkey, the Earl fashioned his family crest with twomonkeys as supporters, and a third posing triumphantat the top. The Earls of Kildare continue in unbrokenmale succession to the present day, the 26th Earl ofKildare being Edward FitzGerald, Duke of Leinster,Premier Duke, Marquess and Earl of Ireland. All haveacknowledged that their branch of the family wouldnever have existed were it not for the quick thinking ofthe Geraldine Ape.The ape has remained with theGeraldines in spirit throughout their history, and to himthey are wont to ascribe their knack for survival. Atleast three more times they were on the brink ofextinc tion. In1537

Henry VIII tried systematically to wipe them all outby murdering the 10th Earl of Kildare and his fiveuncles. But he forgot the Earl's half-brother, whosucceeded to the title and con tinued the line. When the15th Earl died at the age of nine in 1620 and wassucceeded by his seventeen-year-old cousin, this young

man was the last surviving FitzGerald. "On his life alonedepended the continuance of this race, once so widelyspread."1 And again in 11743, the 20th Earl of Kildare,later 1st Duke of Leinster, was the only malerepresentative of the Kildare branch of the Geraldines.

By their title of Kildare, the family recall the countywhich was their home for seven centuries, and by theirname of FitzGerald ("sons of Gerald") they recall theirdescent from Gerald of Windsor, a Norman baron whomarried Nesta, daughter of the King of South Wales -Rhys the Great - and whose son Maurice fitz Geraldcon quered Ireland. The "Great Conquistador", as he isknown, subdued the Irish and made Kildare his home,dying in 1176. Soon after wards his son Thomas builtMaynooth Castle and continued the family's service tothe English king by defending it vigorously against thenatives. He was Justiciar of Ireland, a position of greatpower held by many of his descendants. It is hisgrandson, John FitzThomas FitzGerald, who wasrescued by the monkey.

The Geraldines eventually became Irish by adoption,rising to a pinnacle of popularity as the "good" family ofIreland,2 by which time their conquering ancestor had

long since been forgiven. They waited 500 years beforereaching the status of a dukedom, and during thisperiod their history was closely interwoven with thehistory of Ireland itself. John FitzThomas FitzGerald,"one of the most unruly even of the Irish barons",3controlled a large part of the country, and was created1st Earl of Kildare in 1316 for having defended Irelandagainst Robert the Bruce. His descendants werewarriors, famous for their war-cry "Grom a-boo" (or"Croom to victory", Croom being one of the castlesbelonging to the Earls of Kildare)4 which became soassociated with power and valour that an Act ofParliament under Henry VII was passed forbidding itsuse.5 The cry of a rival family, the Butlers, wasabolished at the same time. Crom a Boo is still themotto of the Dukes of Leinster.

There was another branch of the FitzGeralds, alsodescended from Maurice fitzGerald the Conqueror,and raised to the peerage as Earls of Desmond. (Theytoo claimed to have been rescued by an ape, but boreno evidence in their crest.) When the 7th Earl ofKildare married a daughter of the Earl of Desmond, the

two lines were united, and their son, 8th Earl of Kildare(1456-1513) had two FitzGerald grandfathers. He wasknown as the "Great Earl" of Kildare, and was the firstof the family to be honoured with the Garter. The Earlsof Desmond are now extinct, though there does surviveanother descent from the Conqueror of Ireland,represented by the present Marquess of Lansdowne,whose surname is Fitz- maurice.

In the Tudor period two members of the family madetheir mark in different ways. Lady Elizabeth FitzGerald(1528-11589), a daughter of the 9th Earl of Kildare,was the "Fair Geraldine" to whom Henry Howard, Earlof Surrey and son of the Duke of Nor folk, addressedhis love poems. She was twelve years old at the time ofthis Petrarchan romance, and at fifteen she married SirAnthony Browne, a sixty-year-old widower. Surreydeplored this marriage in his later poems. A latermarriage was to Edward Fiennes Clinton, Earl ofLincoln and ancestor of the present Duke ofNewcastle.

Lady Elizabeth's brother was "Silken Thomas", the10th Earl (1513-1537), so called because hishorsemen wore silken fringes on their helmets. For

having permitted the murder of the Archbishop ofDublin, the Pope excommunicated Silken Thomas,along with his associates, in terms of the most un-Christian curses. "O good Lord! send to them, andevery of them, hunger and thirst", says the docu ment (Ihave modernised the spelling), "and strike them andevery of them, with pestilence, till they, and every ofthem be consumed, and their generation cleaneradicated and delivered of this world, that there be nomemory of them, strike them, and every of them, alsowith such leprosy, that from the highest part of the headto the sole of their foot, there be no whole place. Strikethem also with madness, blindness, and woodenness ofmind, etc."8 Thomas's father, the 9th Earl, died of abroken heart on hearing of this curse in 1534.

Meanwhile, the English government set about tryingto put the curse into practice. The Geraldine Rebellion,of which Silken Thomas was the head, had seriouslythreatened the English authority in Ireland. Thomas hadformally declared war on England, a far moredangerous act than the killing of a tremblingArchbishop. It was determined that these Fitz Geraldsshould never more prove troublesome. Thomas was

captured and imprisoned for sixteen months in theTower (his name, scratched on the wall of BeauchampTower, can still be seen), while all other males of thefamily were rounded up. On 3rd February 1537 the10th Earl of Kildare, aged twenty-four, and his fiveuncles were executed at Tyburn in the barbarousmanner reserved for the most contemptible traitors.They were hanged, drawn and quartered, that is theirbowels were removed before death, and their bodieschopped up. Two of the uncles were known to havehad nothing whatever to do with the rebellion, but theywere murdered because they were FitzGeralds. As wehave seen, they missed one twelve-year-old boy,suffering from small-pox, who was rescued by theBishop of Kildare and kept in hiding. Wrapped in ablanket, he was taken first to his sister, then to his auntLady Eleanor FitzGerald, and finally fled to Liege,pursued at every step by the King's agents. Henry VIIIwanted desperately to get the fugitive child into hishands. The boy finally made his way to Rome, wherehe was protected by Pope Paul III, and lived to returnto England after Henry's death. Mary Tudor annulledthe attainder against his family and restored him to the

earldom of Kildare. Strangely, we find that this 11 thEarl had signed the letters patent for the succession ofLady Jane Grey to the throne in 1553; Mary wasperhaps more expedient than forgiving.

The mighty race of little earls proceeded once moreon its path towards the dukedom, continually rising inimportance if not in size. Frequent references to theearls' diminutive stature put one in mind of a family ofleprechauns. Maurice fitz Gerald's son, and founder ofthe Kildare line, was said to be "a man of small stature,but of no mean valour and integrity".7 The 16th Earl(1603-1660) was actually known as "The Fairy Earl"because of his size. Lord Edward Fitz Gerald (1763—1798), rebel son of the 1st Duke, was stated to be fivefeet and five inches tall.

They developed also in political sensibility. Theirbattle-cry silenced, they gradually substituted for adoctrine of victory to the strong, one that all powerwas a trust for the people, and that personal liberty aswell as personal property was sacrosanct. It was adoctrine which evolved in England and was exportedto France and to America, where it changed thedestinies of both those countries. In England it founded

the Whig party, and when its principles were appliedto Ireland, it fomented rebellion. In England the Dukesof Bedford, Devonshire, and Rutland among others ledthe Whig movement, while in Ireland it was the futureDuke of Leinster who fought to apply Whig policies. Ifthe English non-landowner suffered from adiscriminatory system, the Irishman was a virtual slave,with no voice in his own future, no freedom to live ashe wanted, no existence outside his belonging to hislandlord. The FitzGeralds "strove to make Irishparliament in Irish affairs what the English parliamentwas in English ones".8 From this date, the middle of theeighteenth century, the FitzGeralds are invinciblypopular in Ireland, and one of them, Lord Edward,was to be a national martyr.

The 20th Earl of Kildare came to the title in 1744,once more the solitary male representative of theGeraldines of Kildare. He remedied that by marrying alady from a family noted for its fertility, and who gavehim seventeen children (nine sons and eight daughters).The lady was Emily Lennox, daughter of thoseromantic lovers, the 2nd Duke and Duchess ofRichmond, who fell wildly in love long after they

married. The Duchess of Richmond had been pregnanttwenty- seven times in twenty-nine years of marriage.At first, the Duke would not consent to his lovelydaughter marrying Kildare, in spite of his wealth,because there was said to be scrofula (known as"king's evil") in the family.9 But Richmond relented afew months later, and the marriage took place inFebruary 1747, to celebrate which Kildare was givenan English viscountcy. He was already an M.P., aPrivy Councillor, a Lieutenant-General, and theGovernor of County Kildare, as well as the mostpopular peer in Ireland. His support for the popularparty did nothing to diminish his own ambition forpeerage titles. The viscountcy did not satisfy him; hewanted to be a duke. "Did he mention the Irishdukedom to you?" wrote Richmond to the Duke ofNewcastle, one week before the wedding. "I know itis what he has set his heart upon."10

He waited another twenty years. In 1761 he wascreated Earl of Offaly (he already had the barony ofthat name) and Marquess of Kildare, with the promisethat whenever the King saw fit to create a new duke inthe peerage of England, he would receive a dukedom in

the peerage of Ireland. The promise was kept in 1766,four weeks after Hugh Smithson (Percy) became 1stDuke of Northumberland; Kildare chose the title ofLeinster.

The new Duke's fifth son, Edward, was just threeyears old. He was to grow up in an atmosphere ofquasi-revolution, his father and his father's friendsespousing the new concept of the sovereignty ofParliament above the Crown, and equality under thelaw, and his cousin, the 3rd Duke of Richmond,hovering on the brink of socialism. Edward was the idolof his family, the most intelligent, the most thoughtful,and the most fervent. His enthusiasms proved fatal.When advised that he should keep cool and quiet onthe subject of Irish politics for the time being, he said, "Ikeep my breath to cool my porridge."11

He early joined the Sussex militia and in 1781 wassavagely wounded in the thigh, and left to die on thefield. His survival was assured only by a negro calledTony, who took him to his hut and nursed him. Fromthat day to the end of his life, FitzGerald kept Tony ashis devoted servant. He travelled widely on the NorthAmerican continent and was made an honorary

member of the Bear tribe. In 1791, in the wake of theFrench Revolution (of which the Whigs approved), a"Society of United Irishmen" was established, with theavowed aim of abolishing religious discrimination inIreland, expelling the English influence, and eventuallydeclaring a Republic, Lord Edward did not join until1796, but in 1792 he was in Paris, staying at the samehotel as Paine and eating meals with him; he joined in afamous toast for the abolition of all hereditary titles.12

By 1797 the United Irishmen numbered 280,000conscripts, armed and eager to invade England.Edward FitzGerald was now one of the military leadersand a rabid reformist. He planned to invade at the sideof French forces, and there was even a project to beginthe rising by murdering eighty leading noblemen (thoughit is not certain that FitzGerald was privy to thisintention). The government could not afford to toleratethis incipient insurrection for long. One ThomasReynolds informed that a meeting of the conspiratorswould be held on a certain day, as a result of whichmany were arrested. Lord Edward, warned in advance,escaped into hiding, with an arrest warrant on his head.He remained in Dublin throughout his supposed exile,

sometimes disguised as a woman, and actively planneda rising for 23rd May 1798. When, however, a rewardwas offered for his capture, Lord Edward was in realdanger. The story of his end is the stuff of whichmartyrs are made.

The reward naturally induced Lord Edward'sbetrayal, as it was intended to do. An informerdisclosed that he was hiding with one Murphy, a featherdealer, and on 19th May Swan and Ryan went there toarrest him. He had just had dinner, and was lying on hisbed upstairs. Swan and Ryan burst into the room.There followed a scuffle, and accounts differ as to thedetails of what happened next. His friends claim thatRyan shot at him through the door, and wounded him,refusing to allow medical attention to the wounds fortwenty-four hours. Less partial versions agree thatFitzGerald fired the first shot, which killed Ryan, andthat FitzGerald was subsequently shot in the right armafter a desperate struggle. He was given medicalattention, and pronounced free from danger. But thewound festered, and he died on 4th June in Newgateprison.13 Ireland had another of her beloved martyrs.

Lord Edward's loss was the most acutely felt

because he was not merely a political fanatic, but asplendid man. As so often happens, his virtuesendeared him even to those who detested his views.Lady Holland, admittedly a friend of the family, says,"Such was the winning character of poor Lord Edwardthat without patronage, wealth, no very superiorabilities, he had the faculty of attaching men of all ranksto his person."14 The modern vernacular has a lesselegant shorthand for saying the same thing : he had thecommon touch.

His mother, the Dowager Duchess,had long since been widowed, andremarried, to an uncouth Scot calledOgilvie, whom she had engaged to tutorher younger children and fallen in lovewith. She had even produced a secondfamily, of three daughters, making a totalof twenty children. She shared her sonEdward's passion for demo cratic ideals,and was a fervent admirer of Rousseau.So, too, was the 2rid Duke of Leinster(1749-1804), her second son, and therebya great-great-grandson of Charles IIthrough the Richmond offspring.Leinster was a voluble Whig, perpetuallygetting to his feet in the House of Lords

to make one protest after another againstthe government. He supported theUnited Irishmen unswervingly, for whichhe was virtually deified in Ireland. Onehistorian describes him as "an honest,undeviating friend of the Irish nation".15

The same author says that Leinster wasgenerally respected as a public man anduniversally beloved as a private one.Other views are not so compli mentary.He does not appear to have been veryintelligent, his talents were seriouslylimited. He was the first Knight of theOrder of St Patrick (founded to parallelthe Order of the Thistle in Scotland). Hiswife, than whom "there was never moreloveable creature breathing",18 died ofgrief in 1798, a few weeks after the deathof her beloved brother-in-law LordEdward. The Duke himself died ofstrangury. Town and Country hadrevealed, twenty years earlier, that hekept a secret mistress.17

His son, the 3rd Duke of Leinster (1791-1874) wasagain a Whig, again Lord Lieutenant of CountyKildare, and again a Grand Master of Freemasons,

like his father. He was Lord High Constable at thecoronations of both William IV and Queen Victoria.He did not make much of a mark, and references tohim are mostly inconsequen tial. Creevey talks of hiskindness and good humour, "he would not haveminded brushing my coat if I had wanted it",18 andothers agree that he was a good sort. Our primesource is the doubtful one of Harriette Wilson, whothought him charming, but a stupid fool and a bore.She introduces him to us with characteristic verve:"Now the said Duke of Leinster being a very stingy,stupid blockhead, whom nobody knows, I willdescribe him. His person was pretty good; straight,stout, and middle-sized, with a good, fair Irishallowance of leg ... I never saw anything more decidedin the shape of curls than those which adorned anddistinguished Leinster's crop ... I do not see how a mancould be well handsomer, without a mind. His Gracewas at that time in the constant habit of assenting towhatever any body said, good or bad. He was allsmiles and sweet good-humour." She allows him to bea man of honour, and he comes through the pages, inspite of her bitchiness and almost without her

awareness, as a man worth knowing. She is impatientwith him; "I am not going to sit down all my life to lovethis fool", she writes. "I must have something for themind to feed on", and one can quite believe thatHarriette was cleverer than he. She pays tribute oncemore to his easy-going nature, noticed by others, in herusual back-hand way: "he never had anything on earthto recommend him to my notice, save that excellenttemper".19 Leinster's behaviour when Harriette betrayshim does more than anything to reveal the man'squalities as well as his weakness. It seems clear thatshe was never his mistress, if only because he couldeasily be kept an obedient suitor without ever beinggranted the prize for which he was suiting. It was hewho introduced her to Lord Worcester, the futureDuke of Beaufort, whereupon her attentions turnedaway from Leinster to plunge into a real love affair.Leinster was chagrined. His friend had stolen his lady-love. It was too much. He asked Harriette, with dignityand decorum, kindly to refrain from making her affairwith Worcester obvious until such time as he coulddecently leave the country, but he wished her well.

Harriette Wilson is not always reliable.

She is generally valued for the vividnessof her dialogue, not the veracity of herportraits. She is, however, corroborated byanother, independent source. In 1816,when the Duke was twenty-five (some fouror five years after his liaison withHarriette), he paid his respects to asixteen-year-old heiress, Frances AnneVane-Tempest, with a view to assessingher possibilities as his duchess. What hethought of her we do not know, but theyoung girl confided to her diary exactlywhat she thought of him. He was "not ill-looking, very amiable, of the highest rankand immense fortune, in short he was anunexceptionable parti. I met him frequentlyin Bruton Street, and always thought himdull. He did not propose to me but hisgrandfather Mr Ogilvy [that same roughScots tutor who married the 1st Duchessof Leinster] did to my guardians. MrsTaylor [her aunt and guardian] said shehad no objection to him but she thought ita mercenary marriage on his part and said Iwas too young to marry for a year. Mymother tormented me extremely [this washer other guardian]. She said she couldnot object to one so unobjectionable, butshe balanced against his rank and merits

so many defects, stinginess, love ofIreland, etc., that had I liked the Duke Ishould have been puzzled."20 Nothingcame of the encounter. The Duke married adaughter of the Earl of Harrington twoyears later, and Frances Anne became thecelebrated coal-owning Marchioness ofLondonderry.

The 4th Duke of Leinster (1819-1887) had theunhappy experi ence of living at a time when the ideaspromulgated by his reforming ancestors took root inIreland and incited the long bloody struggle to evict theEnglish influence altogether. Protests were loud againstthe absentee landlord who charged extortionate rentsfor very little, and spent all the proceeds on amusinghimself in London. The Duke of Leinster could not becounted among such people. He lived all his life amonghis tenants, and did all he could to improve their welfareand meet their demands. He even offered to sell themtheir land under the terms of Lord Ashbourne's Act,which provided for the advance by the LandCommission of the full purchase money to a tenant whoagreed with his landlord to buy his holding, but the offer

was rejected.* The FitzGeralds showed the Irish howto stand up for themselves, and the Irish stood upagainst the FitzGeralds. In revolution there is no roomfor demanding fair play.

*The Land Purchase Act of 1885

Leinster did not bother with politics. Hewrote the history of his family, Earls ofKildare, an indispensable reference book,and had a happy marriage with one of theubiquitous Leveson-Gowers, a daughter ofthe 2nd Duke of Sutherland. She died onlya few months after him in 1887, when thetitle passed to his son, father of the 6thand 7th Dukes.

The 5th Duke of Leinster (1851-1893),who died of typhoid fever, also eschewedpolitics, leading a simple life with simplehabits. The glamour of his existencederived from his wife Hermione, a daughterof the Earl of Faversham and, according tothe Duke of Portland, one of the greatbeauties of the late Victorian era. LadyLondonderry has written of her "renownedbeauty" and "strikingly brilliant

com plexion",21 while a more recentauthor refers to her as "the beautifultubercular Hermione".22 She died in thesouth of France, where she had repairedfor her health.

These two deaths mark the virtual endof the long and illustrious history of aremarkable family. After seven centuries ofinfluence and distinction, the Geraldines ofKildare enter upon a sad decline with thecoming of the twentieth century. The 5thDuke and Hermione had three sons, theeldest of whom naturally succeeded as 6thDuke. It is upon the youngest boy,however, that we must concetrate ourattention.

Lord Edward FitzGerald, born in 1892,was only eighteen months old when hisfather died, thus depriving him of arestraining influence which might havemade all the difference to events. With thelaw of primo geniture effectively releasinghim from any of the restrictions whichaccompany the responsibilities of a headof family, Lord Edward threw himself into acarefree and joyful youth. He washandsome, adventurous, and a lord; life

was going to be fun. In 1913 he married, atWandsworth Registry Office, an actresson the musical comedy stage, MayEtheridge, one of the singers and dancerswho are nowadays known under thegeneric name of "Gaiety Girls" (althoughthey did not all perform at the GaietyTheatre). It was one of the alliancesbetween aristocracy and stage which wasa part of life in Edwardian London. In 1914their only son was born, and by thefollowing year the marriage was at an end;they did not divorce until seventeen yearslater, but they had ceased to live togetherin 1915. He claimed later that he had neverbeen in love with May Etheridge.

Lord Edward served with distinction in the GreatWar, as captain in the Argyll and SutherlandHighlanders, and was wounded. The war producedtwo events which were to shape his future. First, hisnext older brother, Lord Desmond, was killed in actionin France in 1916, which placed Edward next in line forthe dukedom. (Desmond died a hero's death. He threwhimself on a bomb to save the lives of his colleagues.)Secondly, his eldest brother, the Duke, was afflicted

with a tumour on the brain which rendered him auseless invalid, incapable of managing family affairs.The Leinster fortune was in the hands of trustees who,observing Lord Edward's style of living, did not wish tomake him a handsome regular allowance which hewould immediately waste. He, on the other hand,seeing that he would almost certainly come into thedukedom one day, as his brother would not marry andhave children, saw no reason to cease enjoying life inhis fashion. The result was, he ran up enormous debts.

In 1919 a receiving order was made against him as abankrupt. It was then that he made the fateful decisionto gamble away his inheritance.

A wealthy business man called Sir Harry Mallaby-Deeley proposed to advance Lord Edward £60,000immediately, which would cancel his debts, in return forthe sale of his reversionary life interest in the Leinsterestates. In other words, for as long as he lived, anyincome due to him from the estate would go instead toMallaby-Deeley and his heirs. To FitzGerald it seemeda reasonable chance to take. His brother was still ayoung man, and as long as he was alive, his ownincome from the estate was negligible or nil. The loan

would get him out of a scrape now; he could deal withthe future when it happened.

Unfortunately for Edward FitzGerald, his invalidbrother died in 1922, and he became 7th Duke ofLeinster, entitled to an income from the settled estatesof £80,000 a year, but destined never to get a penny.The contract he had signed with Mallaby-Deeley waslegal and binding. None of the family property wouldbelong to him as long as he lived. There was even aclause in the contract which gave Mallaby-Deeley theright to prevent the Duke from doing anything whichmight shorten his life and so reduce the period forwhich he would legally own the Duke's estate. Heinsured the Duke's life for £300,000. The trusteesoffered to buy back the inheritance for £250,000, butMallaby-Deeley would have none of it. He asked£400,000. The most he would grant was a purelyvoluntary gift of £1000 a year to the Duke. The Dukeof Leinster had ruined himself, and there was nothingthat anyone could do about it.

He showed little sign of being chastened. Anotherreceiving order was made against him in 1923, but stillhe lived as if he were a rich man. It was not entirely his

fault that he was trapped in a vortex of publicity whichlaid bare his every indiscretion. Deprived of his ownmoney, he tried other ways of getting it. In July 1922 helaid a bet for £3000 that he could drive from London toAberdeen in fifteen hours. He made the journey infourteen and a half hours, covering 557 miles, no smallfeat in 1922. Unfortunately, he was summonsed forfailing to produce a driving licence. On 15th July hewas fined £2 for speeding (at thirty-eight and a halfmiles per hour!) and four days later he paid £5 forspeeding on Constitution Hill (at thirty-three miles perhour). It transpired that he had previous convictionsdating back to 1914.

The 1923 bankruptcy hearing showed a total debt of£25,300 listed by creditors. The income from theLeinster estates was protected from the claims ofcreditors and left absolutely in the discretion of thetrustees, who would not release it. For the Duke,therefore, it was a personal debt; he had noremunerative occupation and no capital, his only sourcestill being £20 a week.

There was some furniture left to him by the terms ofhis father's will (the 5th Duke). He thought he would

sell this. Said the Official Receiver, "Are any stepsbeing taken to release the furniture in Ireland?" to whichMr Salaman, the Duke's harassed solicitor, had toreply, "I am told that if anyone from England attemptsto release it they will be shot."

A few months later the Duke was found guilty ofobtaining credit on false pretences, and had to sufferthe humiliation of a stern rebuke from the judge, whotold him, "We treat everyone alike in these courts."23

He fled for a while to America. (Mallaby-Deeley laterrelented, and sold some of the Leinster property to payoff the creditors.)

The Duke retired to a life of comparative obscurityafter these inauspicious beginnings, emerging to servein World War II, and to marry three more times. MayEtheridge died of an overdose of sleeping draught in1935. He married, secondly, Raffaelle Kennedy. Histhird wife was also a musical comedy star, DeniseOrme (real name Jessie Smithers), who had previouslybeen twice married. The six children of her firstmarriage included the Duchess of Bedford (Lydia, thepresent Duke's second wife), Lady Cadogan, andJoan Aly Khan. The Duke of Bedford described her

as "one of the most enchanting and fascinatingcharacters I have ever met".

She could be as abrupt as anyone born to the style.If she found a bore amongst her guests, she would goto the chair in which he was comfortably installed,shake him by the hand, and say, "I'm sorry you'regoing. Do come again," pull him out of the chair andpropel him backwards out of the door.24 She died in1960.

The Duke's last wife was Mrs Conner (nee Felton),whom he married in 1965. She used to be thehousekeeper at the block of service flatlets where theDuke lived, and she hailed from Streatham. The Dukelived in a succession of council flats or bedsitting-rooms all his life. For forty-five years he was anundischarged bankrupt, thereby forfeiting his right to sitin the House of Lords or to participate in thecoronation ceremonies of 1937 and 1953. He wasfinally dis charged from bankruptcies in 1964. For awhile, he and his duchess ran a tea-shop in Rye.Leinster eventually took his seat in the Lords for thefirst time on 15 July 1975: he had been Duke for morethan half a century.

Meanwhile, the Mallaby-Deeleys flourished, and theLeinster estate dribbled away. They sold Carton, theprincipal family seat in County Kildare, in 1951; thepurchaser was Lord Brocket, the brewer. The heir,Lord Kildare (May Etheridge's son), had to give hispermission for the sale, which he did in exchange forbeing allowed to live at another family property, KilkeaCastle, with enough cash to renovate it. He lived therefrom 1949 to 1960, and his children were born there.It then became an American hotel, specialising in"group tours", and is now a health farm. With theproceeds from the sale, Lord Kildare bought acomfortable house in Oxfordshire, which was not histo sell, but which he occupied by virtue of a smallerconditional settlement of the Leinster Trust. (It isfurnished entirely with the con tents of Carton, andhung with family pictures, which belonged, of course,like everything else, to the Mallaby-Deeleys.)

The 7th Duke of Leinster died in London in March.1976, at the age of eighty-three. Even in death he waspursued by insatiable publicity.Before he could be left in peace, and the errors of hislife forgotten, his very title was challenged by a claimant

living near San Francisco, California, whose name wasLeonard Fitzgerald. (Murmurs had been heard fromhim earlier than this, but they now reached acrescendo.) Mr Fitzgerald's claim to be the rightfulDuke was based upon an assertion that he was the sonof the 6th Duke who was supposed to have died aninvalid in Edinburgh in 1922, but who in fact emigratedand lived until 1967. According to this version ofevents, the 1922 death certificate referred to anotherbrother, Frederick, whose existence had been keptquiet, and whose name was changed to 'Maurice' onthe certificate, while the real Maurice had run away ona cattle boat to the New World. (Why this shouldhappen, no one has seen fit to explain, and fancifulstories that the man in Edinburgh was an hermaphroditedo nothing to render it more plausible.) Were this true,then the genuine Duke of Leinster had been living inWyoming, leaving the title and family problems of hisyounger brother. Throughout 1976, newspapers pickedat the story repeatedly, while the new Duke kept silent,protecting his family as best he could from ill-informedgossip.

The final word was given in September 1976 when

the Lord Chan cellor instructed that a writ of summonsto attend the House of Lords be issued to the 8th Dukeof Leinster. The Duke took his seat on 21st October1976. The Lord Chancellor is not known to behavefrivolously in such matters, and one may well concludethat the San Francisco claimant will be lost in historicalperspective.During his father's lifetime, the 8th Duke was unable tosettle part of the estate on other members of the family,but was obliged to watch it diminish to vanishing point,powerless to intervene. Now that he has inherited, theentire family estate has reverted to him, or what is left ofit, and the Mallaby-Deeleys have no further interest. Hehas worked all his life, knowing that he was not entitledto a penny from the estate, and he continues to worknow. He is Chairman of C.S.E. Aviation, at Oxford, thelargest air training school in Europe. He has never borneresentment against the Mallaby-Deeley family. Herecognised that his father made a bad deal, and SirHarry a good one, and has never thought it a productiveexercise to chastise anyone for a gamble which cost himthe greater part of his inheritance.

references

1 . Complete Peerage.2. Cecil Woodham-Smith, The Great Hunger, p.

42.3. D.N.B.4. Complete Peerage.5. Duke of Leinster, The Earl of Kildare, p. 307.6. ibid., 309.7. D.N.B.8. Brian Fitzgerald, Emily Duchess of Leinster, p.

141.9. Walpole, XIX, 241-2.10. 13 February, 1747. British Museum Additional

MSS, 32710,F. 201.

11 . Fitzgerald, op. cit., p. 204.12. D.N.B.13. Journal of Elizabeth Lady Holland, Vol. I, p.

187; D.N.B.

14. ibid., p. 188.15. Barrington's Historic Memoirs, quoted in

Fitzgerald, op. cit.,p. 274.

16. Complete Peerage.17. Town and Country, Vol. VIII, p. 569.18. Creevey Papers, Vol. II, p. 191.19. Harriette Wilson, Memoirs, Vol. I, pp. 211, 253,

282.20. Edith Marchioness of Londonderry, Frances

Anne, p. 24.21. Edith Marchioness of Londonderry, Retrospect,

p. 16.22. Anita Leslie, Edwardians in Love, p. 263.23. The Times, 23rd December 1922; 9th January,

23rd January,16th March, 26th April, 9th, 15th, 16th and 29thMay 1923.

Duke of Bedford, A Silver-platedSpoon, pp. 172-3.g.

9 Clash of the Clans

Duke of Argyll; Duke of Atholl; Duke of Roxburghe

Scottish dukes for the most part regard themselves aschieftains first, and as dukes only second. The flatteryof a title cannot bend a man's vanity if he alreadycarries an eminence among his own people far abovethat which could be bestowed by any monarch. IanCampbell, for example (born 1937), though Duke ofArgyll twice and a host of other dignities besides, isabove all Mac Cailein Mhor ("Son of the great Colin"),a Celtic honour which his family has held since 1280,and by virtue of which he is chief of Clan Campbell.

The clans have a bloody history. That they havesurvived the slaughter at all is due to the fact thatillegitimacy was no bar to membership; there werealways more "Campbells" to take over. Added towhich if a man lived on Campbell land he was obligedto become one of the family and adopt the Campbellname. ("Campbell" originally meant "the man with thecrooked mouth".)

Clan Campbell gained ascendancy over the othersby brute tenacity in the first place, reinforced byshrewd political cunning. The Campbells had quickbrains, could turn every circumstance to their ownadvantage, probe every situation, and not hesitate at allto change skins, chameleon-like, when it suited them.By the fifteenth century they had immense authority inScotland, and in the sixteenth were closely involvedwith Mary Queen of Scots. It was the time of theirdeepest ruthlessness. "The Scottish nobles from thefourteenth to the sixteenth century were probably themost turbulent, rapacious and ignorant in Europe . . .resolute champions of indefensible privileges."1

We have to jump a few hundred years and begin ourstory at the point where they came into contact withour other characters, Atholl and Roxburghe, at thebeginning of the seventeenth century, when all threewere ranged in the bitter quarrel over religion. Two-thirds of church plunder had fallen into the hands ofScots noblemen, which largely accounted for theirrabid Protestantism; self-interest more than anythingelse was behind it. The events under Charles I finallyled to dukedoms for them all. It started with a Prayer

Book.Foolishly unaware of the stern power of Scots

dogmatism, Charles I attempted to impose uponScotland a new Prayer Book which in tone soundedsuspiciously close to the detested Popish liturgy. Thefirst solemn reading took place in St Giles's Church inEdinburgh in July 1637, and the ceremony quicklyturned into a riot. Footstools were hurled across thechurch amid a din of outraged religious pride. Withinhours, a surge of feeling had swept through the capitalthat startled the King. He offered to amend certainpassages, he insisted on his own hatred of Popery, hesought to placate and compromise. But the Scotswould be satisfied with nothing less than the withdrawalof the new Prayer Book, and of that implacability wasborn the attitudes which were set towards inevitablecollision.In 1638 a solemn Covenant was drawn up, a bond by

which the Scots would "adhere to and defend theaforesaid true religion, and forbear the practise of allnovations in the matter of the worship of God till theybe tried and allowed in free Assemblies orParliaments". On 28th February the Covenant was

read in the church of Blackfriars in Edinburgh, afterwhich it was signed by masses of Scots, from thehighest in the land to the frenzied crowd, some ofwhom cut a vein for their ink. The first to sign was theancestor of another of our ducal families, the Earl ofSutherland. The signatories and supporters werehenceforth known as the "Covenanters", and theiropponents the "Royalists". Though they did not say so,and though they still pledged loyalty to the King (if hewould mend his ways), the Covenanters were startinga revolution. In the ensuing Civil War, the Earl ofRoxburghe was for the King, while his son and heirHarry joined the Covenanters (the Earl even had totake refuge in the Mayor's house in Newcastle toescape the murderous wrath of his own son). The Earlof Atholl was also Royalist. The Marquess of Hamiltonwas for the King, and the Earl of Montrose was firstfor the Covenanters, then for the King, for his loyaltyto whom he suffered one of the most hideous deaths inScottish history at the hands of Argyll and theCovenanters. As for Argyll, after some initial hesitationhe became the leader of the rebellious faction. Hisfather had warned the King that he was "a man of craft

and subtlety and falsehood, and can love no man; andif he ever finds it in his power to do you a mischief hewill be sure to do it".2 Certainly his career supports hisfather's bad opinion of him, for he moved from onefirmly held principle to another with the consistency ofblancmange.

Argyll's first prise de position was at the GeneralAssembly of 1638, which developed almosthaphazardly into a revolutionary gathering. The Kinghad sent a Royal Commissioner (Hamilton) to declarethe Assembly dissolved, whereupon the delegatesdecided to take no notice, and to proceed as if nothinghad happened. From that moment, of course, theAssembly was treasonable. Argyll came off his fenceand declared himself by repudiating the RoyalCommissioner. Since he had an army of thousands athis command, he was immediately adopted as theleader of the Covenanters.

By 1641 Argyll was made a Marquess toensure his loyalty and in 1651 he placedthe crown on Charles II’s head at Scone.But he had acquiesced under Cromwell,his loyalties were, to say the least, inquestion, and Charles did not trust him. In

1660, at the Restoration, Argyll tried toseek conciliation with the King, but it wastoo late. Mindful perhaps of Argyll'sremorseless, vengeful and savagetreat ment of his enemy Montrose, whosebody had been hacked into little bits andwhose withered hand had been nailed upoutside the the King's window, Charlesthought the only place for this barbarianwas in prison. He had proved that hisword was as substantial as the wind. Hisown explanation for his tergiversationswas that he was a "distracted man in adistracted time", but such pleading wasinsufficient to save him. He was tried forHigh Treason, imprisoned in EdinburghCastle, and executed at the Market Crossof Edin burgh in 1661. His behaviour as hewent to his end was the most admirableepisode of his life. He was calm, dignified,polite, totally without rancour, delivered along lucid speech before he died, andafterwards it was found that his stomachhad completely digested the partridge hehad eaten not long before, a sure sign ofan equable mood. His head was placed ona spike on the Tolbooth, the same spotwhere Montrose's head had previouslybeen on display. It remained there for three

years, the object of loathing by those whocame to see it. Clarendon said he was "aperson of extraordinary cunning". He wasthe only Scottish noble to be executed atthe Restoration. With his death, Scotlandheaved a sigh. As Churchill has written,"We may admire as polished flint theconvictions and purposes of the ScotsGovernment and its divines, but one mustbe thankful never to have been broughtinto contact with any of them."3

The 9th Earl of Argyll, restored to hisfather's earldom in 1663, though not to themarquessate, was in total opposition to hisfather most of his life. The Marquess hadeven had to ask for an English garrison toprotect him from the ravages of his son'sattacks on his lands (as Roxburghe hadsought protection from his son). The newearl was personally in charge of Charles IIin Scotland, and behaved very decentlytowards him (much to the annoyance ofhis father). He tried to effect theinconceivable by reconciling the House ofArgyll with the House of Montrose; hewas godfather to Montrose's son. But theage-old enmity with the House of Athollcontinued.

James II resented the power wielded by Argyll in theHighlands, where he was nicknamed "King Campbell",and further loathed him for being the leader of theProtestant cause. There was no way in which the Kingand the Earl could be friends. James eventually securedhis downfall by making an issue of his refusal tosubscribe to the Test Act, which was insufficiently anti-Popish for him. He was accused, found guilty of HighTreason, and sentenced to death. "I know nothing ofthe Scotch law, but this I know, that we should nothang a dog here, on the grounds on which my lordArgyle has been sentenced," said Halifax.4 This was in1681. He was imprisoned, and while awaitingexecution, he escaped in the disguise of a page, withthe help of his step-daughter. His last years weredevoted to supporting the Monmouth rebellion, at firstfrom exile in Holland, and later in Scotland. He wascaptured and beheaded in 1685, on the same spot ashis father twenty-four years previously.

The next in line was created 1st Duke of Argyll in1701, followed very shortly by the 1st Duke of Atholland the 1st Duke of Rox- burghe. The Atholls and theRoxburghes had been pursuing their own destinies

while the House of Argyll had disgraced itself twice intwo generations. The Marquess of Atholl, so created in1676, together with a sonorous list of other titles whichbegan the unrivalled collec tion of honours possessedby this family, was a firm Royalist. He took up arms insupport of Charles II, rose to prominence after theRestoration, and was instrumental in tickling thewounds of Argyll's disgrace. It was he who hadcaptured Argyll, plundered his lands, and captured hisson Charles, who had sent round the fiery cross to raisethe Clan Campbell; Atholl intended to hang him at hisfather's gate at Inveraray Castle, and was onlyprevented from this barbar ous act by the interventionof the Privy Council. Contemporaries did not thinkhighly of Atholl, who resembled the Argylls in beingequivocal and unreliable. Macaulay called him "thefalsest, the most fickle, the most pusillanimous ofmankind". In fairness to Atholl, such qualities appearnot to be unique among Scottish families; the more onereads of the chieftains and the earls, the more one isconvinced that there is hardly a dependable or constantman among them. One brilliant exception was his son,the 1st Duke of Atholl (1660-1724), who at least was

true to his word. "Sa parole est inviolable," said acontemporary. Most importantly, he was a powerfulsupporter of William of Orange.

The 1st Earl of Roxburghe had accompanied James Ito England on his accession to the throne in 1603, andhad been a Royalist in the Civil War. His son and heirHarry Ker was with the Covenanters. He, incidentally,died of a bout of heavy drinking, thus creating havoc inthe Roxburghe succession, the complications of whichare felt to this day. The 2nd, 3rd and 4th Earls ofRoxburghe made no significant mark on the course ofevents, but the 5th Earl was a man of some eminence,and it was he who became 1st Duke of Roxburghe in1707. He, too, was a powerful supporter of William ofOrange.These three men, then, had in common theircommitment to William of Orange, their espousal ofWhig principles, their descent from irascible tribalwarriors. And they founded three ducal houses.* * *

The 1st Duke of Argyll was closely identified withWilliam of Orange. He joined him in The Hague and

travelled with him to England. He administered thecoronation oath to William and Mary. His father andgrandfather had been executed for treason, and he wasdetermined at all costs to avoid the same fate. Heenjoyed himself, and saw no cause to diminish the sumof life's pleasures. Though married, he lived apart fromhis wife, and died "in the arms of his whore" after ariotous life. It should not be forgotten, however, that hewas chief of Clan Campbell at the time of their mostshameful hour. In 1692 thirty-eight members of theClan Macdonald were murdered, some in their sleep,by Campbells who had accepted the Macdonald offerof hospitality for the night. It is the blackest of clantreacheries, and it has come to be known as theMassacre of Glencoe.

The 2nd Duke of Argyll (1678 or 1680 to 1743)possessed all the cunning of his wily ancestors, yetadded some leavening of his own. He was a brilliantmilitary man, serving under Marlborough from 1708 to1710 with some distinction, and eventually rising to theposition of Field Marshal. His military reputation at thebeginning of the eighteenth century was second only tothat of Marlborough himself. This, however, did not

satisfy him. He considered that only the sole commandof the army would be commensurate with thedis tinction his family deserved. Anything less was aslur. He conse quently nursed a gnawing hatred forMarlborough, based on jealousy.Argyll was in love with the military life, he enviedMarlborough's exalted position, he saw him as a rival.No opportunity to do a dis service to his superior wasever missed. Marlborough was led to write: "I cannothave a worse opinion of anybody than of the Duke ofArgyll."5

Obviously, the Duke was ruled by extremes ofpassion. Hot- tempered, proud, and impetuous, he wasprofoundly conscious of being the senior representativeof a clan already 500 years old, and would notconsider humility to be appropriate. Swift thought himambitious and covetous, but such was only the surface.Family pride was his motive, more than personalambition.

Argyll's own contribution to the family characteristicwas an aston ishing oratorical power, since when theDukes of Argyll have more than once been among themost accomplished speakers of their time. The 2nd

Duke's influence in state affairs was attributable in somemeasure to the power of his voice, which carriedconviction as well as persuasion. His word (like theDuke of Atholl's) was sacred, alto gether "free of theleast share of dissimulation", said Lockhart. In this atleast he departed from the traditions of his forbears.

The 3rd Duke of Argyll (1682-11761) took lessafter his brother the 2nd Duke than after his father the1st Duke, who, it is remem bered, died in the arms ofhis whore. This Argyll also had a mistress, to whom heleft all his property in England, and by whom hefathered an illegitimate son. She was Mrs Ann Williams,and the boy was known as William Campbell. By hiswife, the Duke had no children at all, so that his titlespassed to a distant Campbell, and the bastard Williamhad more common descendants who no doubt live inEngland now. The Duke was said to treat his wifebadly, prefer ring the company of his cats, and therewas even a rumour that he murdered her and buried herunder the stairs. Talking of cats, Walpole says that itwould be barbarous to send any to Argyll, "he will shutthem up and starve them, and then bury them under thestairs with his wife"." There is no evidence whatever for

this insinu ation, and the Duchess was in fact interred ina perfectly regular manner; but for Walpole to repeat arumour, it must have been in circulation already, andthere must have been some reason to believe it.Walpole also said he had a "mysterious dingy nature",and that he lived darkly, like a wizard. The generalbelief in his strangeness, and in his wife's odd death,was strong enough to set tongues wag ging again whenhe provoked a duel between Lord Coke and HenryBellenden, both brothers-in-law, because one had beenrash enough to voice the current suspicion. "I have nodoubt but a man who would dispatch his wife wouldhave no scruple at the assassination of a person thatshould reproach him with it," commented Walpole.7

It should be mentioned that the 3rd Duke assembledone of the most valuable private libraries in the country(when he died in 1761 the twenty-one-year-old Dukeof Roxburghe was just beginning his collection, whichwould eclipse Argyll's, and remain celebrated amongbibliophiles to the present day). He renovated andim proved Inveraray Castle, and built Whitton Place atTwickenham, on the edge of Hounslow Heath, wherehighway robbers were hung on gibbets. Bramston

wrote a gently satirical epigram which suggested thatwhen the Duke caught sight of a rogue on a gibbet,

He beheld it and wept, for it caused him tomuse onFull many a Campbell, that died with hisshoes on.

The ducal coronet passed to a cousin, descendedfrom the Earls of Argyll, who was the 4th Duke ofArgyll ( 1 6 9 3 - 1 7 7 0 ) . A military man, his duchess wasfamed for her wit and beauty, and was buried "withunusual honours" at St Anne's, Soho. Not such wit andbeauty as was possessed, however, by the nextduchess, wife of the 5th Duke ( 1 7 2 3 - 1 8 0 6 ) , andbefore that the wife of the Duke of Hamilton - thelegendary Elizabeth Gunning.An account of the amazingGunning story belongs to the Hamilton dukedom, butso riveting is her personal fascination that she can bearsome repetition here. In 1 7 5 Q it is true to say thatthere were no more famous women alive than Elizabethand Maria Gunning, from Ireland, daughters of Mr JohnGunning. They were mobbed in the streets by admirers

anxious to catch a glimpse of them, or still better totouch them. They could not emerge from a carriagewithout causing a stampede. "These are two Irish girls,"said Walpole, a note of wonder in his voice, "of nofortune, who are declared the hand somest womenalive."8 They even created a proverb. The kindest wishof good fortune you could receive in Dublin was "Maythe luck of the Gunnings attend you". Luck indeed.Maria became Countess of Coventry, and ElizabethDuchess of Hamilton. She was then created BaronessHamilton in her own right, with remainder to her heirsmale, and she became Duchess again on her marriagewith the Duke of Argyll. A third Duke, of Bridgwater,was also asking her to marry him, and even George IIIwas among her admirers. When she settled for Argyll,however, society approved. "It is a match that wouldnot disgrace Arcadia . . . her beauty has made sufficientnoise, and in some people's eyes is even improved . . .exactly like antediluvian lovers, they reconcilecontending clans. (The Earl of Argyll, it will beremembered, had defied the Marquess of Hamilton in1638, and become head of the anti-royalistCovenanters; the families had been hereditary enemies

ever since). Again Walpole sounds breathless withastonishment: "What an extraordinary fate is attached tothese two women! Who could have believed that aGunning would unite the two great houses of Campbelland Hamilton?" Not only that, but of ElizabethGunning's children, four would become dukes, and onean earl. The present dukes of Hamilton and Argyll areboth descended from her. To make the picturecomplete, she was not only beautiful, not only lucky,but so irreproachably nice. She had the most delightful,charming character, which gives strength to her legend;transient beauty is not enough to create the kind ofrepu tation that the name Gunning evokes, 200 yearslater. Her beauty was very temporary; ill-health spoiltits bloom, making her dowdy. Her sister suffered aworse fate. She wore too much white paint on her face,and contracted a consumptive condition as a result,from which she died at the age of twenty-five. TheDuke of Argyll has necessarily been smothered by thereputation of his wife. He rose to the rank of FieldMarshal, collected another title in the peerage of GreatBritain, and died a happy old man. His son, 6th Dukeof Argyll (1768-1839), half-brother of the Duke of

Hamilton, is known to us only through his affair withHarriette Wilson.

Harriette assures us that Argyll inherited all hismother's Gunning beauty. "For my part", she says, "Ihad never seen a countenance I had thought half sobeautifully expressive."10 Since she was something of aconnoisseuse, we may take such praise as no lightmatter. Frederick Lamb had told her he was "the finestfellow on earth, and all the women adore him".Harriette later noticed the beautiful and voluptuousexpression of Argyll's dark blue eyes. Resistance wasvain. They made an assignation, on the turnpike.Harriette waited, and waited; Argyll failed to arrive.Stinging with humiliation, she wrote him a cold letter,which was intended to put an end to the friendship. Sheeven believed the stories of his vanity, that he knew hecould have any woman he wanted, that he wasravishingly beautiful, and that he would derivesatisfaction from jilting a young lady. Whatever thecase, Harriette seems to be unaware that she is, like allthe others, obedient to his bidding. He made an excuse;she believed him; the affair got under way, at his paceand when he wanted. It was a passionate relationship,

ending in Miss Wilson's being installed at thenobleman's London residence. Her comment at thistime is that he was languishing in the self-neglect ofbachelorhood, with some ragged shirts, a threadbaresuit, "an old horse, an old groom, an old carri age, andan old chateau. It was to console himself for all thisantiquity, I suppose, that he fixed upon so very young amistress as myself. Thus, after having gone through allthe routine of sighs, vows, and rural walks he at lastsaw me blooming and safe in his dismal chateau in

Argyll Street."[10] This precedes in time the moreprotracted affair with the Duke of Beaufort's heir (seeChapter 5). Happiness was short-lived with Argyll.There were frequent jealous rows, occasioned by hisapparently insatiable need to allow the rest of Londonto enjoy his beauty. In one of her very rare moments ofprurient suggestiveness, Harriette relates one such row,and com ments, "Our reconciliation was completed, inthe usual way."11

But not for long. The jealousies she felt whenever hiscarriage was spied outside another woman's housewere compounded with anger when he took to paying

court to her sister, Amy. Suddenly, she noticed lesshow beautiful were his eyes, and more how old he was.Amy became pregnant by the Duke. Harriette threw atantrum, and Argyll announced his engagement to LadyPaget, later Lady Anglesea, a woman with Villiersblood. And that was the end of that.

We lose track of the Duke, who retired to a quiet lifeat Inveraray Castle. Though he was said to have had ason by Lady Anglesea before marriage, there were nochildren born in wedlock, so he was succeeded in thetitles by his brother (another son of Eliza beth Gunning),whose son eventually became 8th Duke of Argyll(1823-1900). The 8th Duke is the giant of recenthistory in the Argyll sequence. A list of his positions andhonours gives some impression of the stature of theman - Chancellor of the University of St Andrews,Rector of Glasgow, Postmaster-General, three timesLord Privy Seal, and so on — and a further list ofnearly twenty books, beginning with Letter to thePeers from a Peer's Son, written when he wasnineteen, indicates his intellectual ability. He was one ofonly four persons who have been allowed to retain theirKnighthood of the Thistle after being appointed a

Knight of the Garter, and he was created Duke ofArgyll in the peerage of the United Kingdom by QueenVictoria in 1892. But none of this can reconstruct thepresence of the man, which was entirely controlled byhis voice. He was brilliant in speech, and ponderous inprint. He was one of the great orators of thenine teenth century, but now that all those who heardhim are dead, his oratory has died too. The greatCiceronian eloquence we must per force believe ontrust. There are plenty of impressions assigned tomemoirs. His daughter, Lady Frances Balfour, says thather father had "a voice and intonation impossible todescribe; I have heard it likened to a silver clarion, tomemory it sounds more like the notes of a bell. Thebeauty of each portion was brought out, though therewas never a trace of emphasis or unction."12 TheDictionary of National Biography maintains that hisoratory was second only to that of Glad stone andBright. "He was the last survivor of the school whichwas careful of literary finish, and not afraid of emotion."He had a happy knack of exposing humbug, andrevealing truth, with literary finesse and balance. Whenthere was talk of "peace with honour" he called it

"retreat with boasting". His position on the AmericanCivil War was steadfast in support of the union. One ofhis speeches in the Lords is typically lucid, persuasive,and learned. "There is a curious animal in Loch Fynne,"he said, "which I have sometimes dredged up from thebottom of the sea, and which performs the mostextraordinary and unaccountable acts of suicide andself-destruc tion. It is a peculiar kind of star-fish, which,when brought up from the bottom of the water,immediately throws off all its arms; its very centrebreaks up, and nothing remains of one of the mostbeautiful forms in nature but a thousand wrigglingfragments. Such undoubt edly would have been the fateof the American union if its govern ment had admittedwhat is called the right of secession. I think we ought toadmit in fairness to the Americans, that there are somethings worth fighting for, and that national existence isone of them."13

The Duke said he had a cross-bench mind. A Liberalin tempera ment, and natural leader of the ScottishWhigs, he nevertheless sat with the Conservatives in theHouse. From the Duke of Portland, we have a rareportrait of the man's appearance. He had, said

Portland, a commanding presence. "He had a leoninehead of hair, through which he occasionally passed hishand, emphasising his periods with repeated thumps ofhis stick."14

Argyll married three times, first a daughter of theDuke of Suther land, by whom he had five sons andseven daughters. One of the daughters married theDuke of Northumberland, and was grand mother of thepresent Duke. When he died, Argyll was accorded fourwhole columns of obituary notice in The Times, avirtual essay of several thousand words. The writerpaid tribute to Argyll's "telling and forcible controversialstyle", but regretted a certain tendency to preach. "Helooked, as a matter of course, for an attitude ofintel lectual and moral submission on the part of hishearers and his fol lowers, combined of that which thechief expects from his clansmen, the professor from hisclass, and the minister from his congregation." An oldinnkeeper in Oban explained the Duke's predicamentthus: "Well, ye see, the Duke is in a vara deeficultposition; his pride o' birth prevents his associating withmen of his ain intellect, and his pride o' intellect equallyprevents his associating with men of his ain birth."15

His son, 9th Duke of Argyll (1845-1914) marriedone of Queen Victoria's daughters, Princess Louise,thereby becoming a member of the Royal Family. ThePrince of Wales (Edward VII) objected to the marriageon the grounds that the heir to the House of Argyll wasbelow rank.16 The Duke and Duchess resided inCanada for five years (he was Governor-General), butotherwise led an uneventful life, as royals. When theDuke died there were two weeks of Court mourn ing;he was, after all, uncle to the reigning monarch. Shouldanyone have thought, or still think, that the clan systemis dead in Scotland, he need only look at the list of pall-bearers at the Duke's funeral in 1914. Every one ofthem was a chief in the hierarchy of the Campbell clan.There was the Marquess of Breadalbane, AngusCampbell (Captain of Dunstaffnage Castle), IainCampbell (Captain of Saddell Castle), RonaldCampbell (heir male of the House of Craignish)Archibald Campbell (Laird of Lochnell,) ColinCampbell (Laird of Jura), Iain Campbell (Laird ofKilberry), and more besides. They were burying not theDuke of Argyll, but Mac Caelein Mhor.

The 10th Duke was a nephew of the 9th. Born in

1872, he entered reluctantly into the twentieth century,grumbling and grunt ing the while. A crotchety old man,he despised every modern inven tion, abominatedmotor-cars, and he rode a bicycle. He refused to usethe telephone, or have one in the house. He possessedin full measure the Campbell mastery of words, and anygovernment official who dared to interfere with theadminstration of his estates was devastated with richinvective. One was threatened with being "clapped inthe dungeon". He neglected Inveraray abominably,allowing trees to rot where they fell, thunderstorms tosweep untram- meled through the house, while he wasbusy in his study, writing or copying old letters,

indulging his passion for genealogical research.[11] Inmany respects, he was a brother in spirit to the 11thDuke of Bedford, who died in 1940. The Duke ofArgyll lived to 1949. Both men belonged bytemperament to the nineteenth century.

No sooner did the nth Duke of Argyll(1903-1973) take pos session of InverarayCastle from his late cousin than heplunged headlong into a welter ofpublicity from which he never quiteescaped. The cause of the immediate flurry

of attention was his plan to dredgeTobermory Bay and raise the Spanishgalleon which tradition held was sunkthere. In 1588, after the defeat of theSpanish Armada, the "Greate TreasureShippe of Spaine", called the Duque diFlorencia, sailed northwards to thefriendly Scottish coast, hoping for refuge.Although England and Spain were at war,the Scots were still well disposed towardsSpain, which was then the richest countryin the world. But Elizabeth's highlyefficient secret service discovered theSpaniards' intent, and wrecked the ship onnth September 1588, by having a spy setfire to the powder room. Spanishpropaganda sub sequently claimed that itwas only a small hired transport, butElizabeth's informers knew otherwise. Theship was said to contain £30 million worthof treasure.

The King of Spain had been certain ofvictory. He planned to divide Englandamong his nobles, and the money he sentover with this ship was intended as wagesfor his invading forces. We all know thathis plans were thwarted, but whatmeanwhile happened to the treasure? It

rested on the silt at the bottom ofTobermory Bay, and has since resisted allattempts to recover it. Charles I gave uptrying, and granted salvage rights to the1st Duke of Argyll, who was therebypermitted to keep whatever booty thewreck might con tain, supposing alwaysthat he would be able to lay his hands onit, with the sole condition that the royalcoffers might receive one per cent of thetreasure's value. The present Duke ofArgyll still retains this unique right.

In 1950 the new Duke enlisted the helpof the Royal Navy in a final attempt tolocate the wreck. On nine occasionsbetween 1661 and 1919 attempts had beenmade, and small pieces had been broughtto the surface — candlesticks, doubloons,swords, compasses. By now, the wreckhad sunk so deeply into the mud that itwas completely invisible, andsophisticated devices were required todiscover where it was. On 2nd April theexperts announced that they had indeeddis covered a galleon, and brought to thesurface specimens of African oak,' whichis precisely what the ship would be madeof. Sceptics kept their silence.

Having located the galleon, the RoyalNavy's task was complete. It was forothers to plunder the treasure. Four yearslater, the Duke financed another try. Thistime, more ship's timber was found, somescabbards, and a cannon. But no treasure.The dive had to be abandoned, as beingboth too dangerous and too expensive,but the Duke had established that theTobermory Bay galleon was no legend; itwas the only known galleon of theSpanish Armada, and it was still there. Inal] likelihood, if it did contain £30 millionas Eliza beth I's spies maintained, then itcontains as much now

At all events, the search brought the Duke of Argyll topublic notice. It was a romantic and exciting quest, andhe as the questor was a popular figure, a folk hero. Hewas hardly out of the news papers. But the publicity hereceived a few years later was of a far less welcomekind, and for a period of four years he eclipsed inpublic attention even the Duke of Bedford.Argyll had not been brought up at Inveraray, being

only a cousin of his predecessor. He had beeneducated in the United States, had fought in World

War II, and been taken prisoner. The years from 1940to 1945 were spent in a P.O.W. camp, an experiencewhich broke his health. He had already married twicewhen he succeeded to the title. His first wife had beena daughter of Lord Beaverbrook, by whom he had adaughter, Lady Jeanne Louise Campbell, who latermarried the American writer Norman Mailer for a fewmonths. His second wife, a divorcee called LouiseMorris, gave him two sons, one of whom is the presentDuke. In 1951 this marriage also ended in divorce, andArgyll married an old friend, Margaret Sweeney (born1914).The new Duchess had been a famous debutante of the

1930s, perhaps the most photographed woman in theinter-war years. She had been born MargaretWhigham, daughter of a poor Glasgow worker whomade himself a very wealthy man, and left her hisfor tune. She was educated in the United States, and"came out" in London with the effect of a seismicshock. Among the men who sought her were the Earlof Warwick and the Aly Khan, the former of whomshe was ready to marry, but withdrew not long before

the ceremony. Her husband, in the end, was anAmerican businessman called Charles Sweeney, bywhom she had a daughter who is now the Duchess ofRutland.

It was as Margaret Sweeney that she married theDuke of Argyll in 1951. Whatever else may havehappened, she devoted herself to the task of restoringInveraray Castle with a passion for which the localinhabitants are still grateful, "Her Grace has come toInveraray like a touch of spring," said one.17 It waslargely as the result of her work that the little town ofInveraray, a model of town planning, was recognised asworthy of protection as a national monument. In August1959 the marriage erupted into a public quarrel whichbounced in and out of the courts for the next four years.The Duchess defended unsuccessfully, providing thenewspapers with their best opportunity to be shocked,prurient, and snobbish all at the same time. Historianswill find in the details of this case an interestingcomment on the circular movement of social fashions;there had certainly not been as amazing a divorce casein high circles since the Duchess of Cleveland, motherto the dukes of Grafton had her marriage annulled in

1706.The Duke was granted his divorce, and married for

a fourth time not long afterwards. Both he and theDuchess wrote about their marriage in the Sundaynewspapers, he in terms so private that shesuccessfully brought an order compelling him to excisesome sen tences. The judge read to a silent court theoffending passage. "How any man with any decentfeelings," he said, "could seek to publish such a thing tothe world for his pecuniary benefit passescompre hension." The principle that marital confidenceshould be protected was upheld, and occasioned mucheditorial comment. It contributed to the debate on thelimits of privacy. As a direct result of this article, theDuke was asked politely to leave his club, White's.

In 1969 the Duke went to live in France, where hehad spent much of his youth (he was bilingual), andwhere he felt happiest. He returned to Scotland an illman in 1973, and died in hospital. The 11th Duke ofArgyll had led a life pursued by newspapermen fromthe day he succeeded to the day he died. It was notalways of his choosing. He preferred the quiet life atInveraray. But his judge ment sometimes failed him,

and the press triumphantly relished his mistakes.Very different from his father is Ian Campbell, 12thDuke of Argyll, who is handsome, responsible andhappy. Born in 1937 and brought up in the UnitedStates, he married Iona Colquhoun of Liss in 1964,and they have two children, Torquhil and Louise.Before he succeeded in the title in 1973, Ian Campbellhad tackled a dozen different jobs and had lived inmany parts of the world. For four years he workedbehind the Iron Curtain, in East Germany, Hungaryand Romania, for Rank Xerox. He still has disparatebusiness interests which have nothing to do with theArgyll estates, and has brought to the running of theestate the businessman's priorities of efficiency andprofit. The result is that a dynamic pulse is felt atInveraray which has been lacldng for years. The Dukeclaims to be able to do any of the jobs which the estaterequires of its employees, and has done them all atsome stage in his life. He loves every acre at Inveraray,and accepts that the tasks he was born to undertakethere involve hard work and responsibility. He doesnot feel that the treasures in the house (which include amagnificent library) are his, but that he is their

custodian.The Duchess is a quiet, sensible, disciplined woman,

even-tempered and patient. She epitomises theEnglishman's idea of a Scottish beauty.

The Duke and his heir together represent thecontinuation of a history which is awesome in itsantiquity. Dunstaffnage Castle, of which Argyll isHereditary Keeper, is where the early Scottish kingswere crowned. The hereditary baton used by thedukes in their capacity as Keeper of the RoyalHousehold in Scotland was stolen from Inveraray in1952, and has never been found. The Duke has had anew one made to replace it.

On 5th November, 1975, fire broke out atInveraray Castle, com pletely destroying the top floorand the roof in a conflagration which could be seen formiles. Two hundred paintings stored in the attic wereall lost, including a Gainsborough, but damage to therest of the house was caused by the millions of gallonsof water which were pumped in to beat the flames.The entire house was saturated, and all the floors andceilings had to be lifted and removed to prevent dryand wet rot. None of the furnishings and pictures

normally on show to the public was damaged beyondrepair, but the house was rendered un inhabitable, untilthe Duke of Argyll and his family were able to moveinto the basement rooms, formerly the old kitchens andlaundries, in 1976. The roof was entirely rebuilt in oneyear, a formidable under taking for such a large house,and the renovations were scheduled for completion bythe end of 1977. The cost of restoration was estimatedat £850,000, only 21% of it to be covered byinsurance. The remainder was raised from privatedonations and receipts from a special Fire Exhibitionheld in the summer of 1976, which attracted 75,000visitors. Cause of the fire was presumed to beelectrical.

Perhaps the most impressive relic at Inveraray, moreeloquent even than a ducal coronet, is a very simplesporran which belonged to Rob Roy.

* *

Rob Roy takes us neatly back to the beginning ofthe eighteenth century, and to the beginning ofanother dukedom, for the man who captured RobRoy in 1717 was that mortal enemy of the

Campbells and staunch Hanoverian, the 1st Duke ofAtholl (1660- 1724). Poor Atholl was waging twowars, one on a national scale against the Jacobiterebellion, and one a private squabble with membersof his own family. The House of Atholl wasirretrievably divided over the rebellion, with Murrayson both sides. For the government there was theDuke, and his second son, Lord James Murray. Forthe Jacobites there were the three other sons, LordCharles, Lord George, and the heir, Marquess ofTullibardine. These three were pledged to return theHouse of Stuart to the throne; they wereuncompromising in their support, and if it meantschism within the family, so be it. Tullibardineactually took Blair Castle by force, with 500 men,from his own brother. He accompanied the YoungPretender into Scotland, and was intimatelyidentified with his cause. Of the three Murraysinvolved in the Rising, perhaps the most significant,and the most illustrious leader, was Lord GeorgeMur ray. But for the purposes of our story, theeldest son, Tullibardine, affects matters moreclosely.

The Marquess of Tullibardine broughtdisgrace upon the family (in his father'seyes, and in the eyes of the government,with which the Duke had busily ingratiatedhimself) by his Jacobite actions. He was indue course attainted for High Treason andimprisoned in the Tower. His father thenprocured an Act of Parliament to divert histitles and estates from the heir to hissecond son, Lord James Murray, who wasideologically safe. Tullibardine thus foundhimself, most irregularly, disinherited. Hecan hardly have been surprised. His friendand mentor, the Pretender, in 1717 re-clothed him with some suitable titles,including that of Duke of Rannoch, but ofcourse this was only a nominal dignity,never ratified. (The present Duke of Athollcould lay claim to the dukedom ofRannoch, but it is doubtful whether anysupport in peerage law would beforthcoming.) When the 1st Duke ofAtholl died in 1724, the Jacobites naturallyrecog nised the imprisoned and shornformer Marquess as 2nd Duke, but the restof the country, which is what mattered,recognised the other son, James. In thecourse of time, James became de factoDuke as well as parliamentary Duke, as

Tullibardine died in prison in 1746,frustrated and unheeded.

However matters turned out, there is nodoubt that the discredited Tullibardinewas a much moie colourful character thanhis insipid brother, who became Duke.Tullibardine was fiery, passionate,head strong, a bright blazing man whoseeyes shone with the convictions in hisbreast. The 2nd Duke of Atholl (1690-1764), though of the same blood, was quietand dull. He was Lord Privy Seal, like hisfather, but little is recorded of anyachievement in his long life. He married thewidow of a Hammersmith merchant, bywhom he had two sons, who died ininfancy, and two daughters. The eldestgirl, Jean, was ordered in the familyinterest to marry cousin Johnny (who wasin line to be 3rd Duke), but she refused,choosing instead to elope, at the age ofseventeen, with the forty-five-year-old20th Earl of Crawford. Little good did it doher, for she caught the plague on herhoneymoon, and died. Her husband diedtwo years later of an old battle-wound.The torch then passed to the onlysurviving daughter, Charlotte, who

dutifully married cousin Johnny, the 3rdDuke of Atholl (1729-1774). The couple,who were sovereigns by inheritance of theIsle of Man, sold their sovereignty to thegovern ment in 1765 for £70,000, retaining,however, an ancient right to present thekings and queens of England with twofalcons on the day of their coronation. Thepresent Duke still has this right, but hasyet to have an opportunity to exercise it.

The 3rd Duke died dramatically. He was seized withan apoplectic fit, then swallowed a teacup full ofhartshorn (something like ammonia), after which hebled violently at the nose and mouth and complained ofbeing so hot that the only cure would be to sit up to hischin in the River Tay. In fact, his reason had gone. Ateight o'clock one evening he managed to slip out of thehouse unseen, and first leaving his hat on the bank ofthe river, he plunged in. His body was found eight milesdownstream the next day.18

Excesses became more and more common with theAtholl family. The rebel Tullibardine is the archetype ofa Murray who does not know where to draw the line.The 3rd Duke's brother, General Murray, was a

recognised fanatic "with a deranged state ofunderstanding".19 His son Lord George Murray, whobecame Bishop of St David's, was pious in theextreme, while his namesake, the Jaco bite LordGeorge, is said to have hidden in the Highlands readingthe Bible for months on end. His grandson, the 5thDuke, was quite mad.

In the meantime, there was the 4th Duke, a foresterwho intro duced larch into Scotland and plantedmillions of trees, to finance which he asked Parliamentto vote him more money for the sale of the Isle of Man.They did. His son and heir, Lord Tullibardine, was agood-looking bright young man, who began to givecause for concern as he was highly excitable onemoment, and deeply reflective the next. When hereached the age of twenty, he was sent to Portugal withhis regiment, and a personal physician to watch overhim, Dr Alexander Menzies. No sooner had theyarrived than Tullibardine began to show some alarmingsymptoms which could no longer be ascribed t.tempera ment. Something awful happened in Portugal,though exactly what it was cannot now be ascertained.The family have always thought he was struck on the

head; Menzies thought it might be the heat of the sun.Whatever it was, Menzies felt obliged to write instrictest confi dence to the family physician, Sir WalterFarquhar: "I think it my duty to inform you that onFriday last he discovered some appear ances of mentalderangement." This was on 13th April 1798. Menziestrembled at the prospect of having to tell the Duke hisson was a lunatic, and asked Farquhar if he would dothe job for him. Mean while, Menzies would endeavourto keep the matter as secret as possible, though "theattack was so violent and unexpected that in thecircumstances in which he was placed in a garrisonunder military command, it was impossible to concealit".20 He would bring the Marquess back to England assoon as possible.

Back in London, Menzies again wrote to Farquharon 22nd June, 1798, "He seems lost in thought andspeaks to himself. He is subject to incoherency andfalse judgements and is even at times violent. One dayhe was allowed to walk out, but he was so desirous ofmaking his escape that he applied to persons whom hemet to rescue him. About eight days ago he fairly gotover the garden wall and over the wall of another small

enclosure, tho' pursued by the servant who got hold ofhim in the fields. He is at times so absent that he seemsill pleased at having the train of his thoughts interruptedby a question . . . one day recently he was convincedthat he was then confined and punished for a mutiny hehad been guilty of in Lisbon, and two days afterwardshe wished to work for his bread and blamed the Dukeof Atholl for allowing his son to be reduced to thesecir cumstances. The work he wished for was to digwith a spade. When opposed in anything he eagerlywishes he will not hesitate to strike any person. . . .About ten days ago the person who attends him gavehim a knife to eat his dinner, which I had seldomventured to do. He started up from the table suddenlywith the knife in his hand, and attacked the man whowas obliged to defend himself with a chair."21

By the same date, Menzies wrote to the Duke andreferred to his son's "indisposition".

The boy never recovered his senses. He became5th Duke of Atholl in 1830, but it is doubtful whetherhe ever knew it. He was by that time in a paddedroom in St John's Wood, where there were nowindows for him to break, and the tiny household of

two male and one female servant kept him out ofharm's way,22 while family affairs were run by hisyounger brother, Lord Glenlyon. The Duke diedunnoticed in 1846, and was succeeded by his nephew.The wife of the 6th Duke was a close friend of QueenVictoria, and was chiefly remarkable for havingtravelled in a most unconventional way, in a boat-carriage, a kind of boat with wheels. Her son "Bardie"(a diminutive of Tullibardine) was the most notableMurray for some generations. The 8th Duke of Atholl(1871-1942), as he later became, was a military man.He fought at the Battle of Khartoum, and in the BoerWar, always mentioned in despatches. He wasdecorated twice, with the D.S.O. and the M.V.O.,and rose to the rank of brigadier-general. DuringWorld War II, when he was seventy years old, hejoined the Home Guard, and took turns as sentryofficer on duty in Whitehall. Between the wars, Bardiewas involved in less laudable exploits. He was full ofentrepreneurial ideas which seldom worked. One ofthem landed him in a court of law. The Duke hit uponthe idea of selling cancelled sweepstake tickets at tenshillings a time without disclosing which charities the

proceeds would benefit. It was called "The Duke ofAtholl's Fund", and privately he referred to it as "my bitof fun".23 The law did not find it funny; it arrested himfor fraud and placed him on trial. The whole episodewas simply a well-intentioned venture which misfiredbecause the promoter lacked experience. Truthcommented: "It is perhaps doubtful whether it isdiscreet of the Duke to talk about thickheadedness."24

Bardie's wife outshone him in fame. KatherineRamsay, Duchess of Atholl (1874-1960), was a mostremarkable woman, with so many achievements to hercredit that it is difficult to know where to start. Called"The Begum of Blair" by the House of Commons, sheexer cised considerable influence in her day, owing tothe fearless courage with which she expressedunpopular opinions, and to the prominence sheachieved in public life, in spite of her sex and in spite ofher title.

It may seem a paradox that the title of Duchesscould prove a hindrance to one's career, but inKatherine Ramsay's case it certainly was. At a timewhen Duchesses were expected to glitter incomfortable vacuity, Katherine plunged into a

professional career, an unheard-of vulgarity. She wasnurse, musician, and eventually Member of Parliament.The only contemporary Duchess who scorned thecon ventions in this way, refusing to sit behind a tea-pot all her life, was the "Flying" Duchess of Bedford.The two ladies had much in common.

Katherine Ramsay was the daughter of the 10thBaronet of Banff, who had made the first ascent ofMont Blanc. After an education at Wimbledon HighSchool for Girls, she won a scholarship to the RoyalCollege of Music, which carried a fair amount ofmoney with it. Katherine had no need of the money, soshe gave it to an impecunious coloured student, whosecareer thereby flourished. His name was ColeridgeTaylor.

In due time, of course, Katherine had to take herplace, somewhat ruefully, in society. The tedium ofweekends in the country, when she was introduced toone eldest son after another, and was required tomanufacture stiff-backed small talk, almost too small tobe visible, was anathema to her. She took a book ofBeethoven quartets to occupy her mind while the otherladies exchanged platitudes. Or she would go for a ride

on her bicycle. This was still the nineteenth century, andladies did not ride bicycles.

Katherine Ramsay met the dashing "Bardie" in theclosing months of the century, and married him in 1899.At Blair Castle, she was carried over the threshold,according to ancient family tradition, by the two oldesttenants on the estate.

Bardie cannot have known the extent to whichKatherine's unconventionality would reach. Within afew years, she had devoted herself to a work ofremarkable historical research, remarkable because itwould normally engage the attentions of a man knee-deep in archive administration, a Military History ofthe County of Perthshire from 1660 to 1902. Herintellect could no longer be written off, and her rankcould happily be ignored. From now on, the newDuchess of Atholl was taken very seriously. She wasinvited to sit upon various committees, her experienceand erudition were valued, her hospital work at Blairduring the Great War firmly appreciated. In 1918 shewas created a Dame of the British Empire.

Even so, there were many in the country who wereunaware of the singular qualities of the Duchess of

Atholl. This was remedied in 1923 when she took theunprecedented step for a person of her rank, let alone awoman, and stood for Parliament. She was elected asMember of Parliament for West Perth by 150 votes,and made her maiden speech on her third day in theHouse. It was such an impressive performance thatLady Astor, Lloyd George, and Austen Chamber lainall crossed the floor of the House to congratulate her.The Duchess was launched upon a political careerwhich would occupy her for the next quarter of acentury, make her one of the first women to holdministerial office in any government, and in some waysto make the name of Atholl notorious throughout theland.

The Duchess held manifold posts. She began asParliamentary Secretary to the Board of Education, andwas a substitute delegate to the League of Nations.Committee work followed, lectures, books. She wroteon political matters about which she felt deeply; theDuchess was no dilettante. She nursed an abidinghatred of all totalitarian regimes, of whatever colour,and threw herself into the cause of the oppressed withcomplete disregard as to whether such a cause was

currently fashionable. One of her books, Out of theDeep, drew attention to the plight of Germans inRussia, who were starving as a result of eviction fromtheir homes. The Conscription of a People dealt withSoviet Labour Laws and the labour camps. Womenand Politics was more general.

The turning-point came with the eruption of theSpanish Civil War. All should have realised by now thatthe Duchess was a woman of uncompromisingprinciple, but some professed to be shocked when sheopenly embraced the cause of the Republicans, andwrote to Prime Minister Chamberlain suggesting thatthe Spanish Republicans should be helped with arms todefend themselves. She thought the British Governmentmorally weakened by the non-intervention policy,which was a tacit acquiescence in the crushing of theSpanish people. She told Chamberlain that thegovernment ought to oppose all further aggression. Hisanswer was to expel her from the govern ment. A yearlater, after Munich, she was one of the handful ofpoliticians who did not greet Chamberlain's capitulationwith cheers. The first Conservative woman minister leftthe Tory party for good.

From now on, she was known as the "Red Duchess",because her support for the Spanish Republicans hadidentified her with the Communist cause. No one couldhave been more vociferous in her hatred of Communistoppression, but political reputations are made onshifting sands. She retired from public life, havingdevoted more energies to public work than any otherduchess in our history. She held Honorary Doctoratesat the universities of Oxford, Glasgow, Manchester,Durham, Columbia, Leeds, and MacGill. She wasdescribed as a "tiny, upright, hawk-like figure", and bythat malicious snob Channon as "sour, sunken, andsallow". All who knew her agree that she was incapableof a mean thought, was utterly unselfish, kind and good,and was a total stranger to hypocrisy: rare qualities inpolitical life. Her brother-in-law, Bardie's youngerbrother, became the 9th Duke of Atholl (1879-1957),and he appears to have succumbed to some of herpowerful influence. He spoke nine languages fluentlyand, like the Duchess, identified readily with oppressedpeople. He was so shocked by the Yalta settlementthat he converted his Edinburgh house into a Polishhostel, and spent his every weekend with the exiles,

caring for them, apologising to them for the perfidy ofpoliticians. He was no mean authority on Perthshirehistory. The Duke never married, which meant thatalmost all his titles and estates went to a distantkinsman, Mr Iain Murray, whose connection with theAtholl line had to be traced back 200 years over sixgenerations to the 3rd Duke.

In 1957 Mr Iain Murray was twenty-sixyears old, living comfort ably with hismother in a large house in St John's Wood,London. The press saw the romantic sideof his inheritance, and depicted him asassistant manager of a printing works inUxbridge, earning £20 a week andcommuting by underground train from apoky flat. They wanted him to suddenlycome aglow with his fifteen titles, asspectacu lar lights warm over a bareChristmas tree.

The press did not mention that hisfamily owned the printing works, whichwas subsidiary to much larger businessconcerns belonging to his mother. Neitherdid they mention that his mother was adaughter of Lord Cowdray, and that theyhad owned and lived at Blair Castle, the

ancestral Atholl home, since 1932. IainMurray's branch of the family had, inshort, taken over long before he became10th Duke of Atholl.

He is now chairman of WestminsterPress, his mother's family firm, as well asbeing in charge of the Murray estate inPerthshire, covering 120,000 acres andemploying over 100 people. There aretwenty tenant farmers. The Duke attendsthe Lords regularly, speaking there on hisown subject of forestry, upon which he isnow expert. He is a man of friendlydisposition, witty and well informed. Hislanguid appearance belies the truth - he isin fact eternally busy and energetic. Hehas an old-fashioned habit, not commoneven in ducal circles these days, ofchanging for dinner, even if he dinesalone. In one private corner of Blair Castle"Snape" the butler and his wife look afterhim, while the rest of the romantic whitecastle plays host to the public.

If the Duke does not marry, the title willpass to another very distant kinsman,already over seventy-five, and then tosome Murrays who have been in South

Africa for three generations, and areunlikely to want to leave. It seemspossible, therefore, that, though Murrayswill continue to live at Blair as they havedone for 400 years, the Atholl title willdisappear overseas.

The Duke has a curious distinction. He isthe only man in the country who ispermitted a private army. Queen Victoriaand Prince Albert spent three weeks atBlair in 1844. So much did they enjoy theholiday that Her Majesty, perhapsmischievously, conferred upon the Dukeand his heirs the unique right to summonan army, called the Atholl Highlanders.Enlistment is voluntary and unpaid. At themoment the army is about eighty strong,with twelve pipers and six drummers; theyhave their own uniform and parade twice ayear. At Blair Castle there is an oldvisitors' book which records not only thename, but the weight of each visitor.

* * *

While the Dukes of Argyll and Atholl have beenindulging their oratory and enthusiasm, the House of

Roxburghe has in the meantime progressed quietly,without fuss, producing a succession of pleasant menwith a penchant for books, and one duke in particularwho collected one of the best libraries ever. If theyhave been noticeable at all, it is because their line ofdescent is erratic and ridiculous, and genealogicalexperts have had from time to time to put their headstogether to work out who should be the next duke inaccordance with the instructions of the original patent,which cannot, to everyone's chagrin, be altered. It isnecessary to give some attention to this descent, whichhas perplexed learned minds.

One has to start with the 1st Earl of Roxburghe, whodied in 1650. Had his son and heir, Harry Ker, lived,the earldom and subsequent dukedom would doubtlesshave progressed in more or less orderly manner. ButHarry Ker predeceased his father after a night of heavydrinking, leaving none but females to carry the name,which would mean the end of the Roxburghe title afteronly one generation. To avoid this, the Earl obtained anovodamus of his honours, which meant that he couldresign them to the Crown, and then redirect them toheirs of his choosing. He therefore ignored the regular

heir of line, and nominated precisely how the title wasto pass from one relation to another, according to hisown desire and whim, in perpetuity. The Roxburghehonours still pass (as they must) according to thedirections laid down in 1646, though it is by no meanssimple to follow them.

Simplified, the revised patent provided for the title topass to the eldest grandson of the 1st Earl, through hisdaughter, who had married a Drummond. There was acondition attached; the young Drummond would haveto marry his first cousin Jean Ker (daughter of the deadHarry Ker), or the title would pass to another branch.Drummond dutifully obeyed. So, for the next hundredyears, the holders of the Roxburghe title were theDrummond family, although they changed their name toKer.

When the 4th Duke died in 1805, the Drummondline, descended from the 1st Earl's eldest daughter,died with him, and a grubby scramble followed to seewho could legitimately grab the coronet.

There were four claimants to thedukedom - Lady Essex Ker, daughter ofthe 2nd Duke, and heir of line to the 1stEarl of Roxburghe; Mr Walter Ker, heir

male to the 1st Earl; John Bellenden Ker,heir male of the 2 nd Earl (and secondcousin to the Duke who had just diedand who had fought for the successionto go to him, even entailing his estatesupon him. Bellenden Ker was a notedbotanist, wit and man of fashion); and SirJames Innes, who was descended fromMargaret Ker, another daughter of theHarry Ker who caused all the confusionby dying too soon in the seventeenthcentury. There was another, less serious,claimant, a baker in Kingston, Jamaica,called Robert Hepburn Ker.25

The House of Lords discussed the problem for sevenyears, from 1805 to 1812, during which time thedukedom lay dormant. Thousands of pages ofgenealogical evidence, were produced by the.claimants, all carefully examined and weighed by theirlordships. In the end; they had only to consult theoriginal patent, which stated that if the heirs male of the1st Earl's daughter (i.e. the Drummonds) should fail, asthey did in 1805, then the honours should devolve uponthe heirs male of his grand-daughter Margaret (his sonHarry's daughter). By this rule, the heir was Sir James

Innes, who thus became 5th Duke of Roxburghe in1812, changed his name to Innes-Ker, and founded thebranch of the family which flourishes today. He hadspent £50,000 proving his right to inherit.

A word about the Innes family, which came into thepicture for the first time in 1812. Sir James's father hadbeen 28th Laird of Innes, the family having held Innessince Malcolm IV had conferred it upon their directancestor, Berowald Flandrensis, in 1160. But theirfortunes had soured, and Sir James's father had beenobliged to sell the ancient barony of Innes to his cousinin order to keep his family going. The dukedom ofRoxburghe could not have come their way at a moreopportune moment, with over 60,000 acres inRoxburgheshire and a thriving household at FloorsCastle, all of which came with the titles; the House ofLords had set aside the 4th Duke's entailing of theestates upon John Bellenden Ker, without which thenew Duke would have been just as poorly off asbefore. As it happened, he thoroughly enjoyed his newstatus, spending his closing years in peaceful retirementat Floors, with his pretty young wife. As James Innes,he had married in 1769, and his wife had died in 1807,

in the midst of the succession crisis. One week after herdeath, he married again, and was eighty-one years oldwhen his son and heir was born in 1816. I know of nomore impressive record than that. The old man lived onto 1823.

Guy David Innes-Ker, the 10th andpresent Duke of Roxburghe, is a directdescendant of this Sir James Innes, whowon the case in 1812. He is, at the time ofpublication, only twenty-one years old,but if the succession were not assuredby his offspring, or other maledescendants of the 5th Duke, then thehonours would have to be traced backagain to the original patent, and wouldfall on whatever male heirs there may beof any of Harry Ker's three daughters. Itwould certainly require the House ofLords to unravel the mess again. Thedukedom of Roxburghe was the lastdignity to be created in the peerage ofScotland, one day after the dukedom ofMontrose in 1707. A fresh patent, moresensibly organised, could have beenissued to designate the inheritors of thedukedom, but Queen Anne foolishlyallowed the same remainder as hadapplied to the earldom.

It is difficult to assess the personality of theRoxburghe family, as those characteristics shown bythe first four dukes can have little relevance at all to thefollowing six, to whom they are only very distantlyrelated. The first four, up to 1805, were Drummonds,the succeeding six, from 1812, have been Innes.

The first four Dukes of Roxburghe must not gounrecorded simply because they are not ancestors ofthe present Duke. They were all eminent, admirable,delightful men, and deserve to be remembered. To readcontemporary reports of the 1st Duke in particular,who lived from 1680 to 1741, is to wish that one hadknown him. In the first place, he was thoroughly welleducated, speaking Latin and Greek fluently, and mostmodern European languages. He was "a younggentleman of great learning and virtue", said Macky,and Lockhart describes him as "the best accomplishedyoung man of quality in Europe", which is no smallcompliment from a political opponent. Add to this thathe was very good-looking, "brown-complexioned andhandsome", according to Macky. Further, he had suchcharm as to bewitch even those who disagreed withhim. Patten agrees: ". . . with the agreeable Looks of

good Humour, that by all that are so happy to beacquainted with him, he gains their Affection andApplause". The Duke clearly had a beautifulpersonality. Politically, he was a Whig supporter of theHanoverian succession, and was opposed to Walpole,who is the only man to tell a discreditable story of him.Sir Robert Walpole claimed that Roxburghe hadpersuaded the Duke of Montrose to resign his positionas Secretary of State on some scruple of conscience,then promptly applied for it himself. (It is true thatMontrose held the position from 1714 to 1715, andRoxburghe from 1716 to 1725.) All one can say is thatsuch self- seeking is so totally out of character that itwould require more than the word of a politicalopponent to establish it. The Duke was a pall-bearer atthe funeral of Newton in West minster Abbey, 1727.His love of learning, his feel for books and for theknowledge they contained, were passed to his son (afriend of Fielding) and his grandson, the 3rd Duke andgreat book-collector.

The 3rd Duke of Roxburghe (1740-1804) was insome ways a sad man who took refuge from theinjustice of life in his unique collection of books. As a

young man, he had fallen in love with Christiana, theeldest daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburgh-Strelitz.It was a true match, so rare a thing in aristocraticmarriages of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries,and they would have made a supremely happy couple.They had every intention of marrying, but then heryounger sister Charlotte became engaged to the Englishking, George III, and it was intimated to Roxburghethat it would be prudent of him to break off hiscourtship of Christiana. Presumably the King wouldhave lost face if he could only catch a younger daughterwhen one of his Scottish noblemen could walk off withthe prized eldest daughter. Whatever the case,Roxburghe obliged. Both he and Christiana neverceased to love each other, and neither of them married.The Duke smothered all his disappointments inbibliography. He became melancholy, retiring, spendinghours and days at a stretch collating his rare editions.He and the King would compete even in that, and morethan once Roxburghe would have the gallingexperi ence of conceding to the royal preference abook he dearly wanted. But they were friendly enough,and it is said the King was very fond of him. The

collection grew into the finest in the kingdom, housed atthe Roxburghe residence in St James's Square, andassuming a fame which has become legendary. He hadan unrivalled collection of books from Caxton's press,and a collection of ballads without parallel (these arenow in the British Museum).When the Duke died in1804, there was no one to whom he could safely leavehis collection. They passed by inheritance to hissuccessor in the title, the 4th Duke of Roxburghe, buthe was already an old man of seventy-six (a cousin ofthe book-collecting 3rd Duke), and had only months tolive. He died in 1805, and as we have seen, theDrummonds, the Bellendens, the Kers and the Inneswere thrown into turmoil by the question of thesuccession. Seven years later, Sir James Innes wascalled to Parliament as 5th Duke of Roxburghe, andone of his first actions was to sell off, by auction, theentire Roxburghe collection of rare books. Withhindsight, this appears to have been a monstrouslyphilistine act, with which we can have little patience.We know the Innes family were on hard times, and themotive for the sale can only have been financial. Thenew Duke was impoverished by the cost of proving his

claim. However, it was a great event, lasting forty- fivedays, from 18th May to 8th July 1812. The singularlymost glori ous day was 24th June, when the gem of thecollection, an edition of Boccaccio dating from 1471,was sold to the Marquess of Blandford (later Duke ofMarlborough) for £2260. To mark the occasion, thebibliographer Dibden assembled the greatestbibliophiles of the day at dinner in St Albans Tavern,and there and then founded the Roxburghe Club,limited to twenty-four members. It may well be thatDibden and his friends did not want the old Duke'sachievement to be erased without trace by the newDuke's sale, in which event they succeeded, for theRoxburghe Club is a famed monument to the zeal ofbook-collectors.

The second line of Roxburghes have been quite adifferent breed. From the 6th Duke (born in his father'seighty-first year) to the present Duke, they have mostlybeen soldiers, austere and remote. They have mixed inthe highest circles, the 7th Duke marrying into theChurchill family, and the 8th becoming one of the mostintimate friends of George V and Queen Mary. It washe who brought new wealth to the family in time-

honoured manner by marrying an American multi-millionairess. Cgden Goelet was one of the richest menin New York, and when his daughter May became thefuture Duchess of Roxburghe he settled £5 million onher. The fortune was subsequently inherited by her son,the late 9th Duke, and her grandson, who now wearsthe coronet. Roxburghe is at the time of writing theyoungest of our dukes, born in 1954.

Like his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather,he served in the army, and continued to do so aftersucceeding to the dukedom. Roxburghe then learntsomething of business to prepare himself for the task ofrunning Floors Castle, his magnificently impressive seatat Kelso set in 53,000 acres. He has now turned it intoone of the prime attractions of the Border Country, intriumphant defiance of its centuries of age. He has alsoopened a fine hotel on the estate (somewhat like theDevonshires, who have built two, and the Rich-monds, who have one at Goodwood), and is activewith the local Tourist Board and Wildlife Trust.In September, 1976, the Duke of Roxburghe married asister of the present Duke of Westminster, therebyadding another strand to the intricate web of family

relationships which unite all ducal families to each other.The Duke of Westminster, the Duke of Abercorn, andthe Duke of Roxburghe are brothers-in-law to oneanother. His son, Marquess of Bowmont and Cessford,was born in 1981, while his daughter, Lady SophiaInnes-Ker, enjoyed a moment of public attention as adelectable bridesmaid at the wedding of Prince Andrewto Sarah Ferguson in 1986.

references

1 . John Buchan, Montrose, p. 65.2. Complete Peerage.3. Winston S. Churchill, History of the English-Speaking Peoples,

Vol. II, p. 234.4. Complete Peerage.5. D.N.B.6. Walpole, XVII, 506.

7. ibid., IX, 61.8. ibid., Ill, 59.9. ibid., XXI, 267.10. Harriette Wilson, Memoirs, p. 13.11 . ibid., pp. 32, 35.12. Lady Frances Balfour, Ne Oblifiscaris, p. 14.13. D.N.B.14. Duke of Portland, Men, Women and Things, p.190.15. The Times, 25th April 1900.16. J. Pope-Hennessey, Queen Mary, pp. 36, 518.17. Daily Mirror, 6th June 1952.18. Hist. MSS. Comm., 1 ith Report, App. Part 5, p.368.19. Wraxall, Hist. Memoirs, p. 213.20. Atholl Papers, 59 (5), 51.21. Atholl Papers, 59 (5), 139.22. Public Record Office, 1841 Census, H.O.107/678, Section 10.23. 8th Duke of Atholl to Hamish Murray, 1st August1933.24. Truth, 4th October 1933.25. Gentleman's Magazine, June 1809.

Lockhart, Patten, Macky, all quoted inComplete Peerage.

10. The Pride of the Hamiltons

Duke of Hamilton; Duke of Abercorn

The rules governing descent in the peerage can producesome fascinating anomalies. Consider the family ofHamilton, which has spawned two separate dukedoms:

- the Duke of Abercorn represents the juniorbranch, lives in Ireland and has an Irish dukedom.Yet he is the heir male of the original Hamilton,and is therefore head of the House of Hamilton.

- the Duke of Hamilton carries the much olderScottish dukedom, and represents the seniorbranch of the family. Yet this branch forfeited theright to be head of the family because it descendedthrough the female line. To make matters worse,he is, however, heir male of the House of Douglasand head of that family.

- they are both Duke of Chatelherault in France!

They have also produced along the way an almostunrivalled collection of odd preposterous characters.But first the genealogy needs to be unravelled, forwhich a brief excursion into Scottish history isnecessary.

The common ancestor of both Hamilton andAbercorn was the 2nd Earl of Arran, who died in1575. He was Governor of Scotland, and second onlyto the Crown in power. His grandfather had marriedLady Mary Stewart, daughter of James II of Scotland,which made Arran heir presumptive to the throne ofScotland, a position held by the Hamiltons for the nexthundred years. He was guardian to Mary Queen ofScots in her minority, and consequently much courtedby the French who wished to secure his alliance againstElizabeth of England. It was for this reason that Henri IIconferred upon him the dukedom of Chatelherault inPoitou in 1549; it was a bribe to buy his loyalty; lateron we shall look at what happened, or should havehappened, to this title.The 2nd Earl of Arran* had fivesons, of whom:

(1) died young

(2) succeeded as 3rd Earl of Arran, but was insaneand locked up

(3) succeeded as 4th Earl, due to the incapacity ofhis brother, was made Marquess of Hamilton in 1599,and is the progenitor of the Dukes of Hamilton

(4) was made Lord Paisley in 1587, is the father ofthe 1st Earl of Abercorn, progenitor of the Dukes ofAbercorn.

(5) Henry VIII actually considered a marriage between hisdaughter, then Princess Elizabeth, with Arran's eldestsurviving son and heir, because he was first in line tothe Scottish throne after Mary. Nothing came of it,fortunately for England, as the boy was already well onthe way towards lunacy.

Arran's second son did not wait for the death of hisbrother to assume control of the family. The mad Earl,who was, it seems, "crackbrained and fantastic" ratherthan a total lunatic, was kept out of harm's way, whilehis brother was created Marquess of Hamilton in1599, and Earl of Arran. He was rigidly Protestant,separating from his more easy-going and tolerantbrother Claud, Lord Paisley. His son was 2nd

Marquess of Hamilton (1589-1625), also loyal to theCrown, but he died prematurely at the age of thirty-five, and it was suspected that he had been poisoned.If so, his wife might have had something to do with it;she was opposed to him politically, even raising anarmy to fight for the Govenanters against the King, andriding herself at the head of the troops. They hadmarried when Hamilton was fourteen years old, and bythe time he was sixteen, his son and heir had beenborn. This is the child who was to become 1st Duke ofHamilton (1606-1649). Like his father, he alsomarried at fourteen, and his bride was a mere sevenyears old. It is worth pausing a moment to considerthis child, for her mother was Susan Villiers, sister ofthe Duke of Buckingham and daughter of Sir GeorgeVilliers, whose offspring are to be found in so many ofour noble families. Evidence of the dominant Villierspersonality emerges in several of the dukes ofHamilton, particularly the 4th and the 6th. The 4thDuke reinforced the Villiers connection by fathering anatural son by Barbara Fitzroy, who was the daughterof Charles II and Barbara Villiers, Duchess ofCleveland.

As Marquess of Hamilton, the 1st Duke is alreadyknown to us as the opponent of Argyll at the time ofthe Covenant, for he was the

* He has nothing to do, by the way, with the journalist Earl ofArran of our own day, whose family name was Gore, and whose titlewas Irish.

luckless royal Commissioner whose task was tocompel acceptance of the new Prayer Book inEdinburgh, and who failed dismally. In 1638 hesuffered the humiliation of having declared, in the nameof the King, the dissolution of the Scottish Assembly,and being wholly ignored by the Scots, who went onwith their meeting as if he had not been there. Thefollowing year he led the King's army against theCovenanters, once more with disastrous results. Likehis forbear Arran, he brought success to none of hisundertakings, yet, also like Arran, he wielded aninfluence quite out of proportion to his talents.Clarendon says that he "had the greatest power overthe affections of the King, of any man of that time", and

that "no man had such an ascendant over him". Thehistorian also states that Hamilton had more enemiesthan any man in the kingdom. In the Dictionary ofNational Biography he is reckoned "devoid ofintellectual or moral strength, and he was thereforeeasily brought to fancy all future tasks easy and allpresent obstacles insuperable". With his limitedunder standing, he sought compromise as the solutionto all problems, with the result that problems weresimply shelved, while Hamilton felt pleased with himself.

The last years of his life werepathetically useless. Only weeks after hewas created Duke, he found himself inprison, where he languished from 1644 to1646. In 1648 he led the Scottish army forthe relief of the King, with typicalineptitude, surrendering to Cromwell atUttoxeter after the briefest display ofresolution. Cromwell was not a ditherer likehis victim. In 1649 Hamilton was indicted,tried, found guilty of treason, andbeheaded in Palace Yard, Westminster,only weeks after the King to whom he hadbeen so faithful.

A contemporary said, "There is one

good quality in this man, viz. that he wasborn and that God made him: and another,viz. that he is dead, and we must speaknothing but good of the dead."

History has not flattered Hamilton. Hispomposity, arrogance and wordiness havebeen noted (all qualities which were tooccur again and again in his descendants),as well as his ineffectual deceits. The bestportrait of him is by John Buchan, whodescribes him as "a vain, secret being, adiligent tramper of backstairs, and a masterof incompetent intrigue, he is throughouthis career a sheep in wolf's clothing . . . Hislife was one long pose, but the poses weremany and contradictory, and the worldcame to regard as a knave one who wasprincipally a fool."1

Hamilton's reward for his fidelity had been his elevationto the rank of Duke in 1643 (which makes this the thirdoldest dukedom in the Union, surpassed only byNorfolk and Somerset, and paramount inScotland).Having only two daughters, he arranged for a specialremainder naming his brother William as heir to all

titles and estates, assuming, one suspects, that Williamwould beget healthy male heirs. It was to turn outdifferently.William, 2nd Duke of Hamilton (1616-1651) emerges

the more admirable in comparison with his brother. Hehad courage, intelli gence, and honesty, and might haveproceeded, after the Civil War, to a distinguishedcareer. His courage, however, cut short his life.Leading the King's troops at the Battle of Worcester in1651, he could not be restrained from fighting in thethick of carnage, his leg was shattered by a ball from aCromwellian musket, and he died twelve days later.He was thirty-four years old, and had been Duke fortwo years.In his will, made the previous year, he wrote:

"Considering the extraordinary kindness my latedearest brother James, Duke of Hamilton, did expressto me both in his life and at his death by preferring meeven to his own children, I conceive myself in duty andgratitude bound to prefer his to mine, and therefore Ido leave and nominate my dearest niece Lady AnnaHamilton, his eldest lawful daughter, as my soleexecutor . . . and freely give unto her all my jewels,

silver, plate, hangings, pictures, beds and whatsoevergoods else are mine."2 As for the titles, they would behers anyway, by the terms of the patent of 1643. ThusAnne became Duchess of Hamilton in her own right.It is at this point, anno 1651, that the male heir of the

Hamilton family ceases to be found in the seniorbranch. Henceforth, the head of the Hamiltons is theman who bears the title of Abercorn, descended fromthe Marquess of Hamilton's younger brother Claud.The implications of this situation were not lost on theEarl of Abercorn, who immediately set in motion alawsuit claiming the right to all the Hamilton estates andtitles. This was a fanciful claim, for he must haveknown that all previous entails had been cancelled bythe 2nd Duke, as one can so easily redirect aninheritance in the Scottish peerage, and that hissettlement of the estates on Anne had been legallyrecognised. However, Abercorn's anomalous positionas male head of the family was tacitly recognised in1661 when Duchess Anne named the Abercorn line aseventual heirs in the event of the failure of the Hamiltonline. This has yet to occur, but the stipulation is stillvalid today.

Duchess Anne further complicated matters bymarrying William Douglas, Earl of Selkirk, andpetitioning the King to make him what we should nowcall a Life Peer, with the title of Duke of Hamilton.Thus, she was Duchess of Hamilton twice over, once inher own right, and once by virtue of being married tothe new Duke. Or, if you like, the 3rd Duke ofHamilton of the first creation (Anne) married the 1st(and last) Duke of Hamilton of the second creation.Their son, who became 4th Duke, inherited hismother's, not his father's, title.

This man, the 4th Duke of Hamilton (1658-1712)was a disaster. He has been accorded a lengthyfootnote in history by the circum stances of his death, inthe most notorious of all Hyde Park duels, but the fussgenerated by the duel has obscured all previousmention of him. From the first, he was a bone-headedwastrel, using the Hamilton estate, even in the lifetime ofhis mother, as simply a bottomless source of revenuewith which to amuse himself. Selfish, pleasure-seeking,indolent and arrogant, his squalid end might easily havebeen predicted by those who knew him. He had spentsome time in prison on suspicion of Jacobite sympathies

(and sent there on the advice of his own father), duringwhich time he contrived to father a child by BarbaraFitzroy (daughter of Charles II and Barbara Villiers), towhich he paid no attention whatever; the child wasbrought up in the household of its grandmother Villiers.Even those who have kind words to say about him doso, it is clear, under the pressure of wishing to be fairtowards a man whom many thought had beenmurdered. There is a letter written within days of theduel in which the writer says, "I assure you he has morefriends at present than ever he had while alive."3 Thetaint of pride and vanity, never far below the surface inthe Hamiltons, together with the absurdly hot-temperedhabits of the day, was responsible for a duel whichcreated more excitement than any other. In fairness,Hamilton's opponent, Lord Mohun, came to' HydePark with an even more unsavoury reputation than theDuke. Lord Mohun was an infamous profligate.Perpetually drunk, always seeking quarrels, he was nostranger to Hyde Park. He had frequently beenengaged in duels, or midnight brawls, and had beentwice tried for murder.4 His connection with Hamiltonwas by marriage. They had both married nieces of the

Earl of Macclesfield, who on his death-bed had namedMohun as his sole heir, to the exclusion of Hamilton.For eleven years the Duke fought this decision in thecourts, and was eventually provoked to cast doubtupon the credi bility of one of Mohun's witnesses, towhich Mohun retorted that the witness had as muchtruth as His Grace. The following day the Duke wasvisited by General Maccartney, on behalf of LordMohun, chal lenging the Duke to meet his lordship inHyde Park, the usual place for such assignations. Thechallenge was accepted, the appointment fixed forseven o'clock the next morning, Sunday, 15thNovember 1712.

Maccartney, who brought with him a similarly fierceand hot- tempered reputation, was Lord Mohun'ssecond. The Duke was seconded by his illegitimateson, Colonel Hamilton. In short, there could hardlyhave been assembled four more dangerous, foolhardymen; the encounter was bound to be bloody. The Dukeaddressed Maccartney: "I am well assured, sir," hesaid, "that all this is by your contrivance, and thereforeyou shall have your share in the dance; my friend here,Colonel Hamilton, will entertain you." The fight then

began with the fury of mad dogs, the seconds joining in,as was then sometimes the custom. No attempt wasmade at skill; such hatred and pride swelled theiremotions that they fell upon each other with unbridledferocity. It was less an affair of honour than of anger.Maccartney was the first to be disarmed, havingwounded his opponent in the right leg. But ColonelHamilton's attention was diverted by cries of pain fromthe Duke and, ignoring Maccart ney, he rushed to hisaid. The Duke had been wounded in both legs. Mohunhad been struck through the groin, in the arm, andseveral times in the chest. Their swords were drippingwith blood, their faces bathed in it, the grass aroundthem stained. Still they fought on, in rage and fury,paying no thought whatever to self-defence. Some earlymorning strollers came upon the scene, stood andwatched in awe. Then each man made a lunge at theother, simultaneously. The Duke's sword passed rightthrough Lord Mohun's body, to the hilt. Beingambidextrous, he had been fighting with his left hand;Mohun with his dying gesture slashed the Duke'sunprotected right arm, severing an artery.5 The Dukefell against a tree, into the arms of Colonel Hamilton,

who had dropped his sword. Maccartney then grabbedthe sword, and plunged it into the dying Duke's breast,as he lay supported by his son. One of Mohun'sfootmen, according to contemporary rumour, alsoattacked the Duke. Mohun died on the spot, andHamilton was dead before he could be conveyed to hishouse. The onlookers had made no move to help orintervene, but as soon as the Duke's body was carriedoff, they fell upon the tree and stripped away pieces ofbark for souvenirs. Sightseers flocked there for daysafterwards. Comment excited by the affair lasted a longtime, and divided London society along political lines.The Tories said that the Duke's death had beenengineered by the Whigs, who had an army of thugslurking in Hyde Park wating to finish off the job shouldLord Mohun bungle it. There was of course no truth inthis. But the role of Maccartney was sufficientlysuspicious for the Privy Council to order an enquiry, atwhich Colonel Hamilton testified on oath thatMaccartney had struck the Duke while he was holdinghim against the tree. Maccartney had already fled toHolland, so he must have thought there was some truthin the allegation himself. On the strength of Hamilton's

evidence, a warrant was issued for Maccartney'sarrest, and proclamation was made offering a rewardby the Crown of £500 for his apprehension. TheDuchess of Hamilton added a further £200. Foreigngovernments were approached with a view toextradi tion.

On the accession of George I Maccartney returnedto England and was arrested for murder. He was triedin June 1716, when Hamilton's evidence wasdiscredited by his admission of possible error.(Hamilton had himself been tried and acquitted.)Maccartney was found not guilty of murder, but guiltyof manslaughter, and was burnt in the hand with a coldiron, according to the custom of the day.

Just before the duel, Hamilton had been appointedAmbassador to Paris, and had delayed his departure inorder to settle the dispute with Mohun. Had he left intime, he would probably have disap peared into thefog of minor history, never to be remembered. He hadrecently been created Duke of Brandon in the peerageof Great Britain (by Queen Anne in 1711), being oneof the first creations since the union with Scotland. Butthe House of Lords had voted that he should not be

entitled to a seat under this name; he would be allowedto continue to sit as a representative peer fo: Scotland.The Lords did not object to the principle, but to itsbeing applied in favour of the 4th Duke of Hamilton.

Of his son, the 5th Duke, little is known, save that hereflected family traits in finding it difficult to make uphis mind whether he was a Jacobite or not. He marriedthree times. His brother earns a mention for the simpledistinction of being called Lord Anne Hamil ton. Hewas named after his godmother, Queen Anne, anhonour which he may have lived to regret. We have norecord that he found his name embarrassing, but it isknown that Lord Anne was kept by a wealthy olderwoman, Mary Edwards, with an income of £60,000 ayear, until she grew tired of him. There is a possibilitythat they married secretly in 1731; he was alreadytwice a widower by 1729, when he was twenty-sixyears old.

His first wife had died at the age of eighteen in givingbirth to the son and heir, the 6th Duke of Hamilton and3rd Duke of Brandon (i724-<i758) whose fame restson his having married one of the most beautiful womenof the eighteenth century, Elizabeth Gunning.

Elizabeth and Maria Gunning were the daughters ofan impover ished Irishman, John Gunning, of CountyRoscommon. They were so poor that they had toescape the bailiffs by handing their furniture out of awindow after midnight.6 They came to London whilethey were still under twenty, and somehow or othergained access to the Duchess of Bedford, after whichthey were presented at Court. From that moment therewas no looking back for the Gunnings. Their qualitieswere beauty of face and body, and pleasant goodnature. With such boons, their want of a dowry or astation in life was, for once, of small matter. Withinmonths of their arrival they were the most famous ladiesin London. At the presentation, says Walpole, "thecrowd was so great, that even the noble mob in theDrawing- room clambered upon tables and chairs tolook at her. There are mobs at their doors to see themget into their chairs; and people go early to get placesat the theatres when it is known they will be there."7

One of those who were captivated by the beauty ofElizabeth Gunning was the "hot, debauched,extravagant" Duke of Hamilton, a well-known rake,hardly ever sober, and alarmingly over-sexed. So much

did he want her, and so passionate were hisimprecations, that when she said she would not submitto his desires before they were married, he married herwithin the hour. At Hyde Park Corner there was achurch, St George's Chapel, where clandestine orhurried marriages often took place. The parson wassummoned from his bed at 12.30 a.m., but even hewould not perform the ceremony with out, at least, aring. So Elizabeth Gunning became Duchess ofHamilton with the ring from a bed-curtain. She waseighteen years old. Henry Fox described the marriagewith euphemism: "I fancy he tried what he could withoutmatrimony. But at one o'clock (not prevailing Isuppose) sent for his friend Lord Hume out of bed . . .in consequence of which he was in bed with the ladysoon after two, and carried her out of town the nextmorning."8

They journeyed northwards to the Duke's palace inScotland and when it was known they would stop at aninn in Newcastle 700 people sat up all night, to catch aglimpse of her.9 Maria Gunning became Countess ofCoventry, and died of consumption in 1760. The Dukeof Hamilton died in 1758, aged thirty-four, apparently

of a cold, and the following year Elizabeth marriedLord Lorne, eventu ally Duke of Argyll. In this way theancient dispute between the Hamiltons and theCampbells, deadly enemies in the seventeenth century,was resolved by a poor but pretty Irish girl.

Her rise in rank was unique in peerage. From being MissGunning she accumulated five dukedoms, six marquessates,nine baronies, two viscountcies, six counties (earldoms) -twenty-eight titles in all. No one in the world beneath acrowned head possessed so many peerage dignities.All four of her sons became dukes. Her eldest by Hamilton

was 7th Duke of Hamilton, who died at the age of fourteen,and was succeeded by his brother as 8th Duke (1756-1799).From his mother he inherited commanding beauty of face,from his father an over developed sexual appetite. He wasconvicted of adultery with the Countess of Eglinton in 1788,as a result of which the Earl was granted a divorce. He had anaffair with one Mrs Esten, producing an illegitimate daughter,to whom he left as much as he could, oblig ing his successorin the dukedom to buy it all back. His legitimate wife was acommoner, one of the Burrell girls, daughters of a Customsofficer; she divorced him sixteen years later. The Duke wasnever able to control his dissipated ways, his love for lowcompany, his alcoholism, or the Hamilton quick temper. Hedied aged forty-four, from too much good living.The 9th Duke was father to Lady Anne Hamilton, poor

Queen Caroline's only friend, and supposed author of thatscandalously revealing Secret History of the Court of

England. Creevey saw her waiting upon the Queen, leaningon her brother Archy's arm, "though she is full six feet high,and bears a striking resemblance to one of Lord Derby's greatred deer".10 Another daughter was Charlotte, who married the11th Duke of Somerset, taking with her many Hamiltonheirlooms which were to cause irreconcilable rifts in theSomerset family a generation later.For the next hundred years, the dukes of Hamilton were

chiefly notable for the exaggerated importance they attachedto their own rank and ancient birth. The 10th Duke ofHamilton (1767-1852) carried pride in family to risible extremes.He firmly believed, without a hint of tongue in cheek, that hewas heir to the throne of Scotland, being descended from theregent Earl of Arran. Heaven knows what he would have doneto anyone who pointed out that the Earl of Abercorn was thedirect descendant in the male line. Strangely enough, boththis Duke and his approximate contemporary, Mar quess ofAbercorn, were known as magnifico, for they rivalled eachother in pomposity. For his part, the Duke decided that nonobleman of his extraordinary class should be without ahermit in the grounds of his palace; it was a fashionableornament. So he advertised for one, stipulating that the hermitshould shave his beard only once a year, and only lightly.11 Itwas, however, in his death that he sur passed himself. He hadan Egyptian sarcophagus brought to Scot land from Thebes,which had been made for an ancient Egyptian queen, and boreher sculpted and painted image on the outside. He hadbought it in open auction for £11,000, outbidding the BritishMuseum. To house the sarcophagus he built a colossal and

ridiculous mausoleum, with dome and marble and statues, inwhich would lie himself and his nine predecessors, as well asall future heirs to the throne of Scotland. "What a grand sightit will be," he used to say, "when Twelve Dukes of Hamiltonrise together here at the Resurrection!" He frequently wouldgo to his splendid tomb and lie in it to see how it fitted. Hislast ride out was to buy spices for his own embalming (and hewas embalmed), and as he lay dying he was haunted by thethought that he might not fit the sarcophagus, which couldnot be altered being made of Egyptian syenite, the hardest ofall rocks. His last words were, "Double me up! Double meup!", but no amount of doubling could squeeze his body intothe mummy-case, so his feet had to be chopped off, andplaced in separately.12

[12]

The 11th Duke (1811-1863), son of the modern Pharaoh, hadhis share of honest Hamilton excess. He married a Germanprincess and was friend and neighbour to the Duchess ofTeck, who often visited Baden. The Tecks' little daughter,Princess May of Teck, remembered the Hamiltons in later lifewhen she sat on the consort throne of England as QueenMary.13 The nth Duke never travelled in France with a lesserretinue than 200 horses, carriages, and servants. He used todrive down the Champs-Elysees in a carriage drawn by twelvehorses and six postilions, in contravention of the law whichforbade anyone but the Emperor Napoleon to drive with morethan eight horses and postilions (it was called the SumptuaryLaw). Hamilton, of course, considered himself at least the

equal of Napoleon, and far aloof from such petty legalities.14

The 12th Duke (1845—1895) married a daughterof Louise von Alten, who was in turn Duchess ofManchester and Duchess of Devonshire. On him wemust linger a while, for he resurrected the old quarrelover who should be the Duke of Chatelherault. Briefly,we must go back and see what happened to this title,conferred on James Hamilton, 2nd Earl of Arran, in1549.The patent of Henri II creating the dignityspecifically nominates Arran's heirs in perpetuity("pour lui, ses hoirs et ayants cause, a perpetuite").But who were Arran's heirs? Certainly not the dukesof Hamilton. The heir male of Arran was Abercorn,and the heir of line was the Earl of Derby. Accordingto an edict of Louis XIV, dated May 1711, all Frenchdukedoms could only descend through the direct maleline, which would make Abercorn entitled to thedukedom of Chatelherault. The Hamiltons were nothaving any of this.

From 1651 (the death of the 2nd Duke ofHamilton) until 1799, the family made no attempt toclaim the French title, although they had occasionallypocketed the income from the duchy while it lasted.

Then, in 1818, the Marquess of Abercorn wasrecognised in France as Due de Chatelherault. The10th Duke of Hamilton (the one who died like anEgyptian Empress) was disdainful. He simply assumedthe title the following year, 1819, as if the Abercornline did not exist. He was acting illegally in so doing.

The squabble went on for the rest of the century,and fills two huge boxes of documents in the Hamiltonarchives. The Hamiltons had the upper hand, for theywere in a position to pull strings — the 12th Duke'smother was a cousin of Napoleon! Accordingly, in1864, he succeeded in being "confirmed" in the Frenchtitle by the French Emperor, "le Duc d'Hamilton a etemaintenu et confirme, par decret du avril 20, 1864dans le titre hereditaire du Due de Chatelheraultetc."15 Hamilton's case rested on his ancestor, the 2ndDuke and last in the male line of Hamiltons in thatbranch of the family, having entailed his Frenchhonours on 19th March 1650 upon Duchess Anne andher heirs.16 Two things make this view of eventsuntenable, (1) that the 2nd Duke could not havealtered the entail of a French duchy, it was simply notin his power to do so, (2) that Napoleon could not

"confirm" a title which the "holder" did not legallypossess.

As one peerage lawyer wrote, "His Grace ofHamilton has as much right to it as he has to the throneof China."

The upshot of it all is that the present Duke ofAbercorn is, whether he or anyone else likes it or not,the legal Duke of Chatelherault (1549), whereas thepresent Duke of Hamilton is also Duke ofChatelherault by a new Napoleonic creation of 1864.Neither of them is at all exercised by the problem.*

Now back to the 12th Duke of Hamilton, busyaccumulating as many titles as he could. Another titlehe claimed, with justification

*Anyone wishing to enquire further should consult theHamilton Papers at the Scottish National Register of Archives.

this time, and with success, was the even morecomplex earldom of Selkirk. It is worth looking at,because it must be unique in the entire peerage.The 1st Earl of Selkirk was William Douglas, the

man who mar ried Anne, Duchess of Hamilton in her

own right and was later created Duke of Hamiltonhimself, for his lifetime only. (Incidentally, this marriageunited the Douglas and Hamilton lines that we findreflected in the family surname.) He had been Earl ofSelkirk in 1646, and Duke of Hamilton in 1660. Onreceiving the dukedom, he resigned his earldom,surrendering it to the King's hands to do with as HisMajesty pleased. In fact, by surrendering a dignity tothe King, you give back what was only yours duringthe monarch's pleasure, the monarch being the sourceand fountain of all peerage dignities. So the Kingassumed the earldom of Selkirk himself for a period.However, there was always the tacit understandingthat it should be reconferred, with a fresh patent, onthe Duke's family, but with a unique remainder. It wasstipulated that this title should belong to the third sonof the Duke of Hamilton and his heirs male and that, ifthe line failed, and if the lines of any younger sonsshould fail, the title should revert to the Duke ofHamilton of the day until such time as he had ayounger son to start a new line of earls of Selkirk. Aslong as the Duke of Hamilton had one son, theearldom would be absorbed into his subsidiary titles;

but it would re-emerge as a title in its own right (not acourtesy title) when there was a cadet branch of thefamily to assume it. Accordingly the title was conferredupon the third son of the 1st Duke in 1688, andremained with his descendants until 1886, when theirline came to an end and it was claimed by the 12thDuke of Hamilton. It remained with the dukedom untilthe death of the 13th Duke in 1940, whereupon hisdukedom and subsidiary titles passed to his eldest son,while the independent earldom of Selkirk went to hissecond son, Group Captain Lord Nigel Douglas-Hamilton (who was on active service at the time anddid not claim his title until after the war). He, then, isthe 7th and present Earl of Selkirk, and his son, bornin 1939, is the Master of Selkirk; a new line of earlshas begun, to exist in divergence from the senior line ofHamiltons.

His brother, 14th Duke of Hamilton (1903-1973)was also a group captain in the war, and adistinguished pilot. In 1933 he made history as chiefpilot of the Houston Everest Expedition by being thefirst man ever to fly over the top of Mount Everest; hecleared it by barely 100 feet. From that moment he

was a national hero. Later, he was President of theBritish Airline Pilots' Association, and started a flyingschool at Prestwick which developed under his careinto a world-famous airport; he was chairman ofScottish Aviation Ltd, which founded and owned theairport until its international status made it too busy tohandle privately.There were many facets of the Duke's character

which would make him more interesting than most ofhis ancestors even without the headlines created byRudolph Hess in the war. The 14th Duke wasconsciously at variance with his forbears' pompousinflexible Toryism. At Oxford he was captain of theUniversity Boxing Team, and accounted the bestamateur boxer of his year, a distinction which wouldhave appalled the nineteenth-century Hamiltons, if, thatis, they would have believed it. Worse still, he workedincognito at the coal face in one of the family mines, as"Mr Hamilton", and carried a trade-union card. Hewas probably the first Duke of Hamilton to be evendistantly aware of working-class life, certainly the onlyone to experience it at first hand. Slightly younger thanhe, but still of the same generation and shaped by the

same upheavals in aristocratic life in the first quarter ofthe century, is the present Duke of Richmond, who hasworked on the factory floor.The 14th Duke was also a Member of Parliament for

ten years before he inherited in 1940, and LordSteward of the Royal House hold. He never smoked,and never drank. If his name springs to mind in thepost-war era, it is not as a boxer, or pilot, or a coal-miner, but as the embarrassed central character in theRudolph Hess drama of 1941.In May 1941 a Germanparachutist calling himself Oberleutnant Alfred Hornlanded on the Duke of Hamilton's estate in Scotland,having made a hazardous solo flight over enemyterritory. When brought before the Duke, he made theastonishing claim to be in reality Rudolph Hess, Hitler'sdeputy, and to be engaged on a peace mission. Hepointed out to the Duke that Germany did not wish tocontinue the war with England, preferring rather toconserve her forces the better to smash Russia, andwould welcome the opportu nity to initiate peacenegotiations. The central condition which Hitler wouldmake was that England should abandon her traditionalposition of always opposing the strongest power in

Europe. Hess was clearly under the impression thatEngland had been cowed by the blitz, and that the realpower in the country was the handful of Germansympathisers in the Conservative Party. Why had theDuke of Hamilton been selected to receive thisexplosive guest? Hess had discussed the possibility ofpeace overtures with one Albrecht Haushofer, whowas known to the Duke, and Haushofer had suggestedthat Hamilton might be the man to approach, as he hadthe ear of everyone who mattered in England, includingChurchill and the King. There was the tacit implicationthat he might be receptive to the idea.

The Duke always claimed that he hadnever met Hess. He had been present atthe Olympic Games in Munich in 1936, andmight have been seen by Hess there, andhe remembered having mentioned toHaushofer that he would like to meet him.On the other hand, there was anotherHamilton, Sir Ian, who was well known inGer many, and who had met Hess severaltimes; he also had been mentioned as apossible contact by Haushofer. It nowlooks very likely that the deputy Fuehrerchose the wrong Hamilton.

The Duke flew straight to London toreport to Churchill, who looked at him as ifhe were mad. "Do you mean to tell me thatthe Deputy Fuehrer of Germany is in ourhands?" he said. Nevertheless, Churchillwould not disrupt his plan to watch a MarxBrothers film.

Meanwhile, on the German side, Hitlerwas bursting with rage. He had previouslynot been consulted. Rudolph Hess, whoseinfluence with Hitler had been waning, hadmade a desperate attempt to curry favour,and misread the Fuehrer's view ofindependent initiative as well as of themood in England. With historicalperspective, one now sees that the Hessepisode was an insignificant interruptionin the course of the war. Hess wasimprisoned in the Tower of London, andsentenced to imprisonment for life at theNuremberg trials. He languished inSpandau prison, a pathetic, not veryintelligent, lonely old man, until his deathin 1987. In view of the intent behind hisflight - to make peace with England andconcentrate on over coming Russia - it islittle wonder that the Russians insisted heshould stay in prison literally until he died.

As for the Duke of Hamilton, he was anunwilling participant in a bizarre affair, butby virtue of having been chosen by Hess,has been accorded a footnote in thehistory of the war which he would ratherforgo. His own service in the war, as groupcaptain in the Royal Air Force, is moredeserving of recollection.

The map which Hess used to guide himover Scotland, with his own arrow markson it, hangs on the wall in the family home.

The Duke died in 1973, and wassucceeded by his son as 15th Duke ofHamilton (born 1938). He is the PremierPeer of Scotland, and Hereditary Keeper ofHolyroodhouse Palace in Edinburgh, theQueen's official residence; the positionentitles him to a suite of rooms to be keptalways at his disposal in the Palace. Hismother is sister to the present Duke ofNorthumberland. In 1972 he married Sarah,daughter of Sir Walter Scott.

Like his father, he was in the Royal AirForce, and before inherit ing the titles wasemployed as a test pilot by ScottishAviation. He is one of the versatile,

buccaneer, sporting dukes, as opposed topoliti cal dukes like Devonshire orbusinessmen like St Albans. It is notwithout significance that his ancestor, thefirst Hamilton to be raised to the peerageas Earl of Arran, was so rewarded forbeing an excellent jouster. Hamilton is anaccomplished sportsman in many fields,including motor-racing and skin-diving. Hefrankly admits that he would have muchrather gone on being a test pilot, which heenjoyed, than becoming a ducallandowner. He has had to learn a greatdeal about estate management andfarming. The estates are now run by alimited company, of which he is chairman,and which has such a fine record ofefficiency that it actually farms more acresthan it owns: the arrangement is acomplicated one.

The Duke and Duchess live in a house in EastLothian, while the estate office is at the official ducalseat, Lennoxlove, at Haddington, owned by the limitedcompany and rented by it to the Dowager Duchess.Lennoxlove was named after the Duchess of Lennoxand Richmond, better known as "la Belle Stuart", one

of Charles II's mistresses and the model for Britanniaon our coins. But it has been with dukes of Hamiltonfor less than thirty years. The original seat was themagnificent Hamilton Palce, demolished in 1922 inwhat the present Duke calls "one of the architectualcrimes of the century". The estate in those days wasrun by a board of trustees, one of whom was theChancellor of the Exchequer. They gave the worstpossible advice to the crippled 13th Duke, telling himthat the Palace would have to be destroyed (a)because of the danger of subsidence due to mine-workings beneath, (b) because it was difficult to drainefficiently, (c) because the country needed coal, andthe Palace was sitting on it. Patriotic fervour more thananything impelled the Duke to get rid of one of the besthouses in the country - the Great War had ended fouryears before and emotions were still running high. Hetook his seventeen-year-old son (the present Duke'sfather) to have a last look at the place, and told him hecould choose one single object from amongst thetreasures to keep for himself, before they alldisappeared. He chose a mirror, which is still in thefamily. They also managed to save family portraits, and

the death-mask of Mary Queen of Scots, now atLennoxlove.

The mausoleum in which the twelve Dukes ofHamilton lay stood in the grounds of Hamilton Palace.When the Palace was demolished, the mausoleum wasleft, but the bodies were removed and interred. Thegrounds now belong to Strathclyde Park.

The present Duke has had the idea of digging up theEgyptian sarcophagus, and placing it on show in themausoleum. It would lend greater interest to themausoleum, and apart from anything else, it is anextremely rare and beautiful object.

Strathclyde Park was prepared to accept thesarcophagus as a gift, but could not afford to buy it. Itis now worth anything up to £1 million, so rare anobject it is. The Duke agreed. He has now beenadvised by his lawyers that once the coffin is dug up, itbecomes an asset, and the Duke may have to payheavy wealth tax every year he keeps it; if he gives itaway he will pay Capital Transfer Tax; if he sells it, hewill pay Capital Transfer Tax and Capital Gains Tax.All things considered, it is better to leave the old Dukewhere he lies.

* * *

Now to the House of Hamilton in Ireland. LordArran's second surviving son, Claud Lord Paisley,went mad. His son was created Earl of Abercorn in1606, taking the title from land he held in Linlithgow.At the same time he was granted lands in CountyTyrone, Ireland, and it was there that the family seat— Baron's Court — was built. His descendant wasmade Duke of Abercorn by Queen Victoria in 1868,but first, there are a pair of Georgian eccentrics todivert us.

The 8th Earl of Abercorn (1712-1789) nevermarried, leaving himself free to indulge and aggravatethat stony aloof fastidious nature which becomesobsessive with so many bachelors. Join to this a fairshare of that Hamilton pride, and you have a crotchety,stiff and unsociable man. He is said to have made thetour of Europe in so perpendicular a style as never tohave touched the back of his carriage.18 He oncereceived the Queen at his house, whereupon the Kingthanked him, saying that he was afraid Her Majesty'svisit had given him a good deal of trouble. "A good

deal indeed," replied Lord Abercom.He was highly offended if anyone should presume

to pay him a visit without the formality of a card ofinvitation. This was an English habit, but not usual inScotland, where it was assumed that a nobleman'shouse always had a welcome for callers. (The 5thDuke of Buccleuch played host at Drumlanrig todozens of people whom he had never met.) The Earlof Abercorn was on a visit to his Scottish estate whena local historian called Robertson who, poor man, wasunaware of the Earl's reputation for stiffness, called topay his respects. He found Lord Abercorn by theshrubbery in the garden, went up to him, andcommented on how well the shrubs had grown sincehis lordship's last visit. "They have nothing else to do,"replied Abercorn, and walked away.In fairness, it is also recorded that Lord Abercorn was

kind to those around him, is long as they respected hisexalted rank. Even he was surpassed in pomposity byhis successor, his nephew, born Mr Hamil ton butsuccessively Earl and Marquess of Abercorn (1756-1818). While it may be said that the old Earl wasprickly, the new Marquess was positively pretentious.

Born a commoner, he grew into the most inflexiblearistocrat, with a menacing, overpowering personality;even the King went in fear of him. He dined every daywearing the Blue Ribbon of the Knight of the Garter;he even hunted in it. The maids were not allowed tochange the linen on his august bed unless they worewhite kid gloves; more personal contact would bedegrading to his rank. Footmen were required to diptheir hands in a bowl of rose-water before handing hima dish. He travelled always with four carriages and tenoutriders, and if he gave a party, it was not for aweekend, nor a week, but for an entire month. Themoment any person became famous, he had to beinvited to the Marquess of Abercorn's. The boy actor,Master Betty, was a frequent guest. Also, anyone whowas beautiful (or known to be so) would receive aninvitation. The guests could do as they wished, on theunderstanding that they were not to address LordAbercorn except at table. Few would ever dare toopen their mouths even there. When a very poor novelcalled Thaddeus of Warsaw by the young Jane Porterbecame the success of the moment, Abercorn said,"Gad! We must have these Porters. Write, my dear

Lady Abercorn." (Jane had a novelist sister, AnnaMaria Porter.) She wrote, and Jane replied that shecould not afford the fa're. A cheque was sent. Theyduly arrived, and the Marquess peered at them frombehind a curtain. He was disap pointed ; they were notas good-looking as he had been led to believe."Witches, my lady," he said, and disappeared, leavingLady Aber corn to entertain them; they did not seehim.19

Such peculiar conduct did not endear Abercorn to hiscontem poraries, who thought him a rather ridiculousfigure, self-consciously grand, and vacuous at thecentre. He was variously known as il magnifico (asobriquet passed on to his kinsman, the 10th Duke ofHamilton), or Don Whiskerandos because he lookedSpanish. There was no doubting that he was amarquess; he worked hard at the role. "An air of graceand dignity diffused over his whole person", saysWraxall, "he could not be mistaken for an ordinaryman."20 Pride informed his every remark. Even beforehe inherited the earldom, when he was plain MrHamilton, he had visiting cards which proclaimed him

"D'Hamilton, Comte Hereditaire d'Aber- corn".21

Once clothed with the accoutrements of nobility, hesimply could not be restrained. Someone remarkedupon the livery worn by his servants, which wasidentical to that worn by those serving youngermembers of the Royal Family, saying, "I suppose yourfamily took it from them." The temerity! Abercornraised his chin. "Sir," he said, "it was the livery of theHamiltons before the House of Brunswick had aservant to put it on."22 Lady Holland could scarcelybelieve her ears. She wrote: "He was always supposedto be a little cracked, and his pride is beyond belief."

Abercom did nothing with his life.Politics bored him. He devoted his time toacting the part of a grandee, andentertaining the famous and the beautiful.It comes as a surprise, therefore, to seehonours heaped upon him, first amarquessate, then the Garter, then a PrivyCouncillor, without any obvious merit. Theanswer is to be found in his friendshipwith the Prime Minister, Pitt, whom he hadknown when they were young men atCambridge, and from whoseacquain tance he now profited as much ashe could. Pitt, it was even sug gested,

profited also; he was paid for persuadingthe King to look upon Abercorn withfavour. This is how Wraxall tactfully putsit: "no honours or concession in the powerof the Crown to bestow were above thepretensions of a man, who not onlydescended from the royal line of Scottishkings, but was himself the head andrepresenta tive of the Dukes of Hamiltonin male succession. . . . When, how ever,as a further augmentation to so manydignities and distinctions conferred onthis nobleman, the Garter was finallyadded by Pitt some years later, there werenot wanting individuals who sought forthe solution of such extraordinary acts ofpredilection or friendship by recourse tomore concealed causes."23 Wraxall goeson to point out that Abercorn was wealthyand Pitt so poor that he could not pay histaxes or the butcher when he came to thedoor, and hints darkly that the PrimeMinister received £1000 from Abercorn'spurse.

He almost went too far, however, whenhe prevailed upon Pitt to grant theprecedence of an earl's daughter to hisintended bride. He had already been

married once, to a Miss Copley, by whomhe had several children. She died in 1791,when he announced his intention ofmarrying his first cousin, Cecil Hamilton, aparson's daughter. Now that he had aclearer vision of his place in life, there wasone obstacle to his plans, namely that "hefound it quite impossible to demeanhimself by marrying anyone who had notthe distinction of a title".24 He bullied Pittand frightened the King into granting herthe style "Lady Cecil Hamilton", althoughthere was no way in which either she orher father could have come anywhere nearthe title, and in spite of her having fourolder sisters, who were still plain "Miss".Moreover, this story relates to the year1789, when Aber- corn's first wife was stillalive. This implication is that he intendedto marry Cecil as soon as his wife wasremoved from the living, and that he wasalready her lover. The King was made toennoble an adulteress. As Wraxallremarks, even Charles II might havehesitated; as it was, the King and Queenshowed "strong marks of repugnance"before relenting.

The marriage duly took place, but was not happy;seven years later it ended in divorce. With a touch ofthe farcical, Abercorn proved that even in distress hispride was paramount. When he heard that his wifeintended to elope, he sent a message to her beggingthat she should elope in the family coach, "as it oughtnever to be said that Lady Abercorn left her husband'sroof in a hack chaise".25

Within months, the whisper was heard in Londondrawing-rooms that the old Marquess intended tomarry again. Nobody could quite believe it and he, wellaware of the stir he would cause, determined that LadyAnne Hatton should become his wife in the utmostsecrecy. The fiancee was sitting at tea with LadyBessborough when a porter entered saying, that LadyAnne must hurry, for Lord Aber corn had just left wordthat she was to be married at four in the afternoon."This intelligence so communicated surprised them, butcompliance and punctuality are indispensable qualitieswhere Lord A. is concerned, therefore they obeyed."After the ceremony, he bowed to the newMarchioness, then went off with a cavalcade ofservants to dine with his own family, while she dined

with hers.28

Quite apart from pride in rank, old Abercorn had asuperabun dance of normal human vanity. When hewas quite aged, he was involved in an accident with thephaeton, which broke both his legs. His first worry wasthat his beauty and elegance might be impaired. Hesought reassurances from the doctor, who unwiselyremarked that Lord Abercorn could not hope toescape without some consequences at his advancedage. The following day he received his fee and anintimation that his services were no longer required.Bewildered, he turned to a London specialist, DrPemberton, for an explanation of the Marquess'sconduct. "No one must ever suggest that he is not in hisfirst youth," he said.27

Whatever his eccentricities, the Marquess ofAbercorn was not an evil man. Lady Holland had themeasure of him. "He is haughty and capricious," shewrote, "with enough of vanity to make him do agenerous action, and with a dash of madness to makehim do a lively one.' There were instances when hebehaved with admirable public spirit. During the flourfamine in the early nineteenth century, neither he nor

any of his guests, no matter how exalted, were allowedto eat anything made with flour. There can be noexcuse to rejoice in the series of disasters which befellhim as he grew old. His first wife, Miss Copley, haddied of consumption shortly after giving birth to hersixth child. In 1803, the eldest daughter, aged nineteenand engaged to be married, also died of consumption.In 1808 the second son, Lord Claud, died of thedisease, followed by the second daughter, LadyCatherine, in 1812. There were two children left, theheir Lord Hamilton, and the youngest and prettiestLady Maria. The old Marquess devoted all his lovenow to this last daughter, bringing her every medicalattention. The doctors of the day thought, however, thatnight air was not healthy, and prescribed sleeping withclosed windows and curtains drawn round four-posterbeds. In such conditions, Maria could not fight againstthe hereditary curse, and she died at the age ofeighteen. Four months later the last child, LordHamilton, died of consumption too. Abercorn couldhold his head high no longer. Yet he still maintainedenough pride to deny that any Hamilton could possiblydie of consumption; it was thought to be a disease

associated with poverty, with the working classes, andwith undernourishment. He bullied the doctors to writea letter to The Times announcing that his eldestdaughter did not succumb to consumption. But by theend, even he was bound to admit that the Copley cursehad carried off his children. Fortunately none of it haspassed down to subsequent generations. The presentDuke of Aber corn is a direct descendant of the lastchild, Lord Hamilton, who died in 18114 at the age oftwenty-seven, and whose eldest son was created 1stDuke of Abercorn by Queen Victoria.

None of the dukes of Abercorn has been eccentric,and none has been illustrious. They have tended toremain on the periphery of political life, reservingthemselves for the job they do best, in which they arealmost unsurpassed, which is to be the monarch'srepresen tative in Ireland. The first Duke was twiceLord Lieutenant of Ireland and the 3rd Duke, who diedin 1953, held the post of Gover nor of NorthernIreland for twenty-four years. They have beenpopu lar in this role. They carry it off with style, dignity,and panache. Of course, the lowly have been requiredto keep their place, but they seem to have done so with

joy. The first Duke, known as "Old Splendid", waspractically worshipped by the locals. One of his sonswrote, "The veneration in which my father was held bythe country people around him almost surpassedbelief."28 As for the parapher nalia of a governorship -the entertaining, the balls, the ritual, the glitter, thedeference - they performed it as to the manner born(which, indeed, they were). In fact, it was for being sogood at entertaining that they most probably receivedtheir dukedom. Lord and Lady Abercorn received thePrince and Princess of Wales at their home in Ireland inApril 1868. "Bertie" and Alexandra enjoyed themselvesso much that they returned to London full of praise forthe work of the Lord Lieutenant; the patent creating thedukedom of Abercorn is dated 1 oth August of thatyear.

The Duke's wife was a daughter of the 6th Duke ofBedford. They had six sons and seven daughters. Onedaughter became Duchess of Buccleuch and anotherwas Duchess of Marlborough (the idiotic Bertha, whodrove her poor husband frantic with her infantileprac tical jokes). Two of the younger sons brought realliterary distinction to the family. There have been dukes

who have written books - the dukes of Argyll,Sutherland and Portland - and still more ducal youngersons, but they are for the most part pallid affairs. Thebooks of Lord Ernest Hamilton, however, and to alesser degree of his brother Lord Frederick, are worksof true merit. The former's Halycon Era is a model ofwhat a book of memoirs should be, and is mercifullyfree of Victorian affectation. There are half a dozenbooks by one brother or the other which are still readwith pleasure. This is a unique accomplishment in ducalfamilies.

The daughter who was later to be Duchess ofBuccleuch, Lady Louise Hamilton, was received intothe Church by the Archbishop of Canterbury when shewas four years old. To keep her quiet and still, hermother had given her a sugared almond to suck. When,in the course of the ceremony, the Archbishop pickedher up, she took the sweet from her mouth and poppedit into his. With both hands occupied, he could notpossibly remove it, and could not very well spit it out,so he patiently sucked it, while the congregation, madeanxious by the silence, thought he had had a stroke.29

Of the 2nd Duke of Abercorn (1838-1913), Vanity

Fair wrote: "He has not done much, but he has donenothing badly. ... He has enjoyed the friendship ofillustrious persons and, oddly enough, he has deservedit. He is full of tact, agreeable, and endowed with thegood manners which oblige even Radicals to admit thatblue blood has its advantages."The present Duke, whoinherited the title in 1979, is fifth in line. He is the onlynobleman to have distinctions in the three peerages ofGreat Britain, Ireland and Scotland, as well as theFrench dukedom of Chatelherault. His mother, widowof the 4th Duke, has been Woman of the Bedchamberto Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother since 1937.Abercorn is in every way a modern man, devotinghimself to the pro motion of industry and prosperity inNorthern Ireland, passionately concerned with thereconciliation of opposing ideas in Ireland, but wiseenough to demonstrate his concern quietly andunobtrusively, diffident in manner but firm in resolve.His 'family room' at the ancestral home, Baron's Courtin County Tyrone, is the most overtly modern to befound in any ducal seat, delighting some visitors andappalling others, but leaving no one indifferent. TheDuke takes his seat in the Lords regu larly and made

his maiden speech within days of being introduced. Heis also the first of the Hamiltons to marry outside whathe calls the 'charmed circle'; his Duchess is one of thebeautiful grand-daughters of Sir Harold Wernher ofLuton Hoo, nee Alexandra Anastasia Phillips andknown as 'Sasha'. Her sister, Natalia Ayesha, is theDuchess of Westminster. The complicated ties ofrelationship between the Dukes of Abercorn andWestminster illustrate yet again how the dukesleap frog in and out of each other's families, forAbercorn is Westminster's godfather, second cousin,and brother-in-law.

The most celebrated member of the Abercorn line isthe old Duchess, wife of the 1st Duke, who was stillalive when the present Ehike was born. In other words,she lived to see her grandchildren's grandchildren.When she died in 1905 she was ninety-two years old;her direct descendants, issued from her body and aliveat the time, numbered 16g persons. In 1894 she hadposed for a photograph with 101 of them. Nor was theaccident of longevity the only distinction which makesthis lady worth remembering. She was, by all accounts,a charming, genial, essentially good person. The Duke

of Portland said that she was the most genial old ladyhe ever saw. Her son Lord Ernest said she refused tocredit evil in anyone and shed sweetness and kindlinesson all around her. She was perfectly happy for nearly acentury, was never bored, and her marriage with theDuke was exemplary, romantic. Even after fifty years ofmarriage, the old couple would sing together the duetsof their youth, and played chess together everyevening.30 Twice a week, well into old age, she wouldcall at every house in the village. She rememberedunfailingly the names of every cottager, the names oftheir children, whom they had married. She took withher a home-made drink, known as "Her Grace'sBottle", composed of iron-water, old whisky, salvolatile, red lavender, cardamoms, and ginger. Whisky,apparently, was the dominant ingredient. When she hadpassed eighty, she spent most of her day fishing, with afootman in attendance. He would bait the hook for her,and take the rod from her hand whenever she flicked afish on to the grass beside her. He would then carefullyunhook thefish and just as carefully place it back in the water,and the ritual would continue thus for hours.'1.

When she was eighty-six years old, the old Duchessgot on stilts to demonstrate the art to a wobblygreat grandchild. The grand old Duchess ofAbercorn appears in the photo graph albums ofmore than a few families today. She was the "onegolden link that held together some fifty familiesscattered here and there about the UnitedKingdom"."

references1 . John Buchan, Montrose, p. 42.2. Rosalind K. Marshall, The Days of DuchessAnne, p. 25.3. Quoted in Complete Peerage.4. Old and New London, IV, 392.5. Marshall, op. cit., p. 229.6. Duchess of Bedford, Now the Duchesses, p. 60.7. Walpole, XX, 311.8. MSS of Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, quoted inWalpole, Vol.

XX, p. 303 fn.9. Walpole, XX, 3.17.1 o. Creevey, Papers, Vol. I, p. 309.

11 . Timbs, English Eccentrics and Eccentricities,Vol. I, p. 162.12. Augustus Hare, The Years With Mother, p. 188.13. James Pope-Hennessey, Queen Mary, p. 148.14. Duke of Manchester, My Candid Recollections,p. 248.15. Complete Peerage, Vol. I, App. B.16. Hamilton Papers M8, (42, 47, 63, 2, 5, 20, 40).17. Lord James Douglas-Hamilton, Motive for aMission, passim.18. Gentleman's Magazine, October 1789.19. Timbs, op. cit., II, 286.20. Wraxall, Posthumous Memoirs, Vol. I, p. 61.21. Journal of Lady Elizabeth Holland, Vol. II, p.67.22. ibid., p. 70.23. Wraxall, op. cit., I, 65.24. Lord Ernest Hamilton, Old Days and New, p.26.25. G. E. Russell, Collections and Recollections(1898).26. Journal of Elizabeth Lady Holland, Vol. II, p.69.

27. Lord Ernest Hamilton, op. cit., p. 30.28. Lord Ernest Hamilton, Forty Years On, p. 43.29. Lord Frederic Hamilton, Here, There andEverywhere, p. 157.30. Lord Frederic Hamilton, Days Before Yesterday,p. 325.31. Duke of Portland, Men, Women and Things, p.309.

Lord Ernest Hamilton, Forty Years On, p. 302.

1 1 . A Talent for Absorbing Heiresses

Duke of Sutherland

At the northernmost tip of Scotland there lies the hugecounty of Sutherland, covering 1,298,000 acres ofwindswept, almost treeless highlands. Only Caithnessand the Orkneys are more distant. Sutherland isbattered by the sea on three sides, and dominated bywild outbursts of rock in the interior. Its inhabitants aredescended from hardy Norsemen and roughindependent Gaels. It is a forbidding but beautiful place,and it belonged in its entirety, as personal property, toone man in the nineteenth century, an Englishman - theDuke of Sutherland.

Now the Duke of Sutherland lives inRoxburghshire and Suffolk, with not anacre in Sutherland. His kinswoman, on theother hand, Elizabeth Countess ofSutherland in her own right, does still own100,000 acres in the county, while theancient family seat of Dunrobin Castlebelongs to a Charitable Trust.

At first glance, it is not easy to see whatthese two people have to do with eachother. They do not even have the samesurname: the Duke is John Egerton, theCountess is Elizabeth Sutherland, MrsJanson. These surnames, however, arevery misleading. In fact, both the Dukeand the Countess should bear the surnameLeveson-Gower (pronounced Looson-Gore). Until 1963 the dukedom and theearl dom were vested in one person,George Granville Sutherland-Leveson-Gower, 5th Duke and 23rd Earl ofSutherland. On his death, the dukedomwent to a distant relation, while theearldom went to his niece. To find outwhy, we must go back 200 years andfollow the fortunes of the Gower family.

The Gowers represent the single mostilluminating example of how to advance insocial status without talent orachievement, but by the unfailing methodof marrying heiresses. They were by nomeans the only family to adopt this routeto wealth (the Dukes of Buccleuch wereanother), but they did make the advancewith more dazzling speed than anyoneelse. It was Disraeli who said they had a

talent for "absorbing heiresses", a talentwhich was to bring them a million and ahalf acres, making them the largest privatelandowners in Europe.

Within the space of three generations, they rose froma baronetcy to a dukedom, and also, as it happened,from nonentity to notoriety. By the time they hadfinished, they could claim to be the "richest, mostpowerful, and most disliked family in England".1

Sir Thomas Gower, the 2nd baronet, marriedFrances Leveson, sole heiress of Sir John Leveson inStaffordshire. From being a small Yorkshire squire, hewas suddenly owner of the Trentham estate inStaffordshire and the Lilleshall estate in Shropshire. Hisson Sir William Leveson-Gower married anotherheiress, Lady Jane Granville, daughter of the Earl ofBath. Their son John married Catherine Manners,daughter of the 1st Duke of Rutland, and was the firstof the three generations to climb towards a dukedom.He was raised to the peerage as Baron Gower ofSittenham. His son was created Earl Gower andViscount Trentham, and married three rich wives, eachof whom added to the nicely accumulating wealth. His

son also married three times, choosing as his secondwife Lady Louisa Egerton, daughter and co-heiress ofthe 1st Duke of Bridgwater, and leaping up the ladderto a marquessate: he was created Marquess of Staffordin 1786. It is his son, the 2nd Marquess of Stafford,who begins the Sutherland story by marrying thegreatest heiress of all, the Scottish Countess ofSutherland.

The earldom of Sutherland, like many a Scottish title,has had a turbulent, bloodthirsty history. Tradition heldthat the earls were descended from a Norse invaderwho, on landing at the coast of Sutherland, was setupon by a number of wild cats.2 The battle whichensued was long and fierce, but he slew them all, andsurvived to found the Sutherland family. To this day, theCountess of Sutherland has a wild cat on her coat ofarms, and the motto Sans Peur ("Fearless"). Be that asit may, the first of the family to own land was grantedthe district of Sutherland by William the Lion in 1196,and created earl about 1235.

Some of the stories involving his descendants areenough to freeze the spine. In 1395 the 6th Earl ofSutherland was parleying with the chief of the Mackays

in an attempt to settle their inevitable differences bynegotiation when he lost his temper and murderedMackay and his son with his bare hands. In thesixteenth century Lady Isobel Sinclair, mother of thesecond in line to the earldom, decided to dispose of thenth Earl and his son by poison. She invited them todinner, served the poisoned ale to her guests, and wasthwarted only by the Earl's timely realisation of whatwas going on. He fled from the house, as Lady Isobel'sson entered and was himself served the ale by a servantwho was not privy to the secret. A few days later, theEarl and Countess were both dead, as was LadyIsobel's son, for whose sake the plan was conceived.Lady Isobel was sent to Edinburgh prison, where shecommitted suicide, and the rightful heir, Alexander, theonly one-not to touch the poison, succeeded as i ithEarl.3

The title passed through the heirs ofline into different families, until in 1766 the18th Earl died at the age of thirty-one, onlytwo weeks after his wife had died, agedtwenty-six. They left one surviv ingdaughter, an infant barely one year old,who was 19th Countess of Sutherland in

her own right (although her guardians hadto fight for this recognition against twoother claimants), and Ban mhorairChataibh, a Celtic title meaning "GreatLady of Sutherland". It was she whomarried Granville Leveson-Gower whenshe was twenty, culminating the series ofclever marriages in the Gower family, andfounding what was to be the line of dukesof Sutherland.

But for the moment we are in 1785, whenLeveson-Gower married the Countess. Asdowry, she brought her husband 1735square miles of land, or two-thirds of thecounty of Sutherland. The following year,his father was created Marquess ofStafford, and he himself inherited that titlein 1803, together with the Shropshire,Stafford shire and Yorkshire estates. In thesame year, his uncle the bachelor Duke ofBridgwater died, leaving him the finestprivate art collection in the country at thattime, and a still greater fortune. Leveson-Gower had risen from comparativeobscurity to an unassailable position, withtens of thousands of tenants and acolossal income of £300,000 a year; hisnearest rivals, like the dukes of

Devonshire and Bedford, were consideredextremely rich with £50,000 a year. Grevillerightly called him "a leviathan of wealth".4The pity was that neither he nor theCountess possessed the intelligence toknow how best to use all this money.Neither subtlety nor sensitivity had beenpassed down by the Gowers. From 1803 to1833, this couple were known as Marquessand Marchioness of Stafford, names whichduring that period were loathed in theshire of Sutherland, because the Marquessand his wife had decided in their wisdomto "improve" the land.

There can be no dispute that Sutherlandneeded improving. In 1812 there was not asingle road in the whole county, and onlyone bridge. It was wild isolated country,rugged and barren, almost like a lunarlandscape. Hardly anyone ventured intothe interior, and those who did emergedweather-beaten and hungry, swearingnever to go back. The Marquess ofStafford was not one of them. For twentyyears he saw nothing of Sutherland savewhat was visible from Dunrobin Castle,and showed no inclination to explore.5 Butin 1811 Parliament offered to pay half the

expense of building roads in Scotland, iflandowners would bear the other half.First, Stafford bought off the Reay estatefor £300,000 (only one year's income tohim), so that he was master of almost theentire county, and then he set to work. Bythe time he had finished, twenty yearslater, he had built 450 miles of excellentroads, among the best in Great Britain, 134bridges, and an iron bridge with a span of1150 feet, uniting Sutherland and Ross-shire at Bonar. He had opened up thecounty to the mail service, which nowwent as far as Thurso, and previously didnot penetrate Sutherland at all.Improvements there had been, and greatwas the achievement. But in the processthe lives of the people had been made amisery.

The trouble was, the Staffords had no imagination.They were not the kind of people to see that what theywere doing could cause distress, because they couldsee no further than their noses and their inhumanstatistics. Even his own grandson, the Victorianaesthete Lord Ronald Gower, had to admit thatStafford was a bottomlessly dull man. He never did or

said anything that was worth remembering, said Gower,and what he wrote was boring beyond comprehension.He suffered from gout and myopia, and wasconspicuous only by virtue of his huge hawk-like nose,bigger even than Wellington's, a nose, incidentally, thatwas bequeathed by his family to the Beauforts, and isstill proudly worn by the present Duke of Beaufort(Stafford's sister married a Duke of Beaufort). He hadonly one ambition, to be a duke, and it drove himdesperate;6 it was the only rank he could be awarded,having inherited the others already. "He might haveslipped into his grave and the Dictionary of NationalBiography without being remembered for anythingmore spectacular than his wealth and his art collectionhad it not been for his marriage and its consequences."7As for his wife, she had been pretty as a young girl, andexcited the admiration of Lady Bessborough, whothought her the most enviable person she knew, "withgreat cleverness, beauty, talents, and a thousandamiable qualities ... a propriety of manner andconduct".8 Her tenants saw another person. Thoughshe was the Great Lady of Sutherland, she spoke no

Gaelic (the only language of her people), and accordingto one writer actually despised the customs andmanners of the Highland people whose chief she was."She was asEnglish in mood and taste as the furniture ofa London drawing- room."9

The folk over whom this cushioned couple ruled, andabout whom they knew nothing, were a tough race ofmountain-dwellers, completely insular (owing to theabsence of roads) and fiercely independent. They livedin crude hovels scattered over the Highlands, grewpotatoes, raised a few goats and cattle, and brewedraw whisky. Their standards were never far abovefamine level, and they lived in "conditions of penury andsqualor that can only fairly be compared with those of afamine area in contemporary India, and were tolerableonly because they were familiar and traditional".10

There were about 25,000 of them, and they were asmuch a race of foreigners to the English (which includesthe Marquess of Stafford) as the Red Indians ofAmerica or the Aborigines of Australia. They were saidto be lamentably indolent, and only their bravery in warwas acknowledged. The Countess thought of them as aburden, the Marquess didn't think of them at all.

So, when the government offered to share the cost of"improving" the land, it never entered Lord Stafford'shead that the inhabitants might object to being forciblymoved from their homes, like a bother some ant-hill.They were ignorant, illiterate, slothful. It was not theirbusiness to object. The Marquess's agents presentedthemselves at thousands of huts, with orders for thetenants to move to the coast. Not only were they to beevicted, but they were expected to pay four shillingseach towards the cost of the road-building, which theMarquess would otherwise have to bear out of his ownpocket. Those who went struggled to earn a new livingon a notoriously inhospit able coast, rugged and stormyand rocky, perched precariously like leaves in autumn.They had spent their lives rearing goats and growingcrops; now they were to fish - there was nothing elsefor them to do. The huts they left behind, where theyhad lived for generations, were burned to the groundbefore they had time to get over the horizon. Thosewho refused to leave saw their houses burned beforetheir eyes, sometimes with their few belongings stillinside. Others emigrated to Northern America. Oneway or another, the land was swept clear of people, to

make way for roads, and to prepare the land forsouthern sheep-farmers, who were even then beinginvited to establish themselves in Sutherland. Thecounty was divided into lots, and advertised in thesouth.The Marquess and the Countess saw none of theevictions: they were not aware of any suffering, and ifthey were they would not have spared more than amoment's reflection; for these Highlanders were notreal people; they were natives, and they wereuneconomic. Lord Stafford was "seized as much as Iam with the rage of improvements", wrote the Countessof Sutherland. "It was as if the whole population ofSutherland was being shaken in a great cup, thrownout, and allowed to fall where it would on the coast orblow away to the other side of the world", wrote thehistorian of the Great Improvement. There is no recordof how many people were summarily removed in thisway, but it was somewhere between 5000 and 15,000.The criminal insensitivity of Lord and Lady Stafford hasnot been for gotten in Sutherland. One of them, astonemason, immortalised his people's plight in lateryears: "The country was darkened by the smoke ofburnings", he wrote, "and the descendants were ruined,

trampled upon, dispersed, and compelled to seekasylum across the sea". This man, Donald Macleod,was hounded by Stafford's men, and driven eventuallyinto exile; his wife was driven into madness by thepersecution she suffered.11

As the cruelty of the Sutherland evictions becameknown, fierce arguments raged as to whose fault it was,and inevitably some mis conceptions have taken root intime. The most notorious sheep-farmer was PatrickSellar, a sadist whose worst excesses have enteredlegend. When the Countess and her husband heardwhat had been going on in their names they wereappalled.12 Nor can their chief agent, the architect ofthe improvements, be entirely blamed. He was JamesLoch, a self-made man, enlightened and intelligent. Heallowed his vision of a bright future for the county tooverwhelm his humanity, perhaps, but only the bestmotives can be laid at his door.

The clearance policy did enormous good in the longrun. It opened up the country, provided employmentand mobility, spread educational standards, andconquered once and for all the threat of famine. TheStaffords personally gained nothing from it. Their

investment never made a return. The clearances tookplace between 1806 and 1820, and were meant tomake way for southern sheep-farmers who would bringprosperity to the county. In fact, sheep-farming was afailure, and after 1820 the price of wool fell drastically.Local inhabitants were, in the end,triumphant.Whatever the economic wisdom of thescheme, history has con victed the Staffords of criminalresponsibility. It was "an economic policy that entailedthe instant transformation of an ancient way of life . . .part of the internal colonisation of Britain".13 A localman pointed out, "It is one thing thing to build a village,to which people may resort if they choose it, andanother to drive them from the country into villageswhere they must starve, unless they change at oncetheir manners, their habits, and their occupations."14

Lord Staf ford could not possibly have understood this,and must stand con demned for a decision of principlewhich was his - that for the sake of progress it wasworth destroying the happiness of thousands of people.

Professor Checkland has called theclearances "one of the most tragic andemotive incidents in the long death of

traditional peasant society in Britain",16

and F. F. Darling went as far as to say theywere "of the order of brutality expected ofa Norse raid a thousand years earlier".18

No wonder Karl Marx, with his curiousblend of intellec tual precision in theservice of distorted dogma, should havewritten an entire article on Sutherland inthe People's Paper."

In 1833 Stafford achieved his ultimateaim of becoming a duke, and, though anEnglishman, the title he was given wasDuke of Sutherland. He lived to enjoy hisnew rank only six months. "I believe he isthe richest individual who ever died",wrote Greville.18 He had been Ambassadorin France during the French Revolution, hehad opened the Bridgwater Collection atStafford House in London to the public,but nothing could brighten his memory.He has come to posterity as the dullardwho threw out his wife's hereditarytenants.

The Duke's widow lived for another sixyears, during which time she was knownto the world by a unique and curious title -

the "Duchess-Countess". She lost herprettiness, and grew rather plump, whichenabled Creevey to make one of hispitilessly precise obser vations. "It was asgood as a play", he wrote, "to see oldSutherland moving her huge derriere byslow and dignified degrees about in herchair, so as to come into action ifnecessary."19

The Duchess-Countess died in 1839,and her two sons began the two separatelines of descent which bring us to 1963.From the first son were descended the nextfour dukes of Sutherland, and from thesecond son (see page 340) are descendedthe Earls of Ellesmere, the last of whomsucceeded as 6th and present Duke ofSutherland in 1963. The 2nd Duke ofSutherland (1786-1861) does not appear tohave been very distinguished. Like hisfather, he said and did nothing which hasbeen remembered. We do, however, knowthat he was bookish. He was an originalmember of the Roxburghe Club, a Trusteeof the British Museum, and aCommissioner for the Fine Arts. It is alsocertain that he took a far greater interest inhis tenants than his parents had done. The

potato famine of 1846-8 caused him acuteanxiety and real emotional stress, as hetried personally to deal with the hardshipshis people suffered. Apart from that, allthat has come down to us is that he wasstone-deaf, conceived a hopeless passionfor the Queen of Prussia, so strong that hefell dangerously ill on hearing of her death,and that he married Harriet, a grand-daughter of Georgiana and the 5th Duke ofDevonshire.

As so often happens, it was theDuchess who made more of a mark thanthe Duke. It was she who bestirred him tobuild Cliveden, the handsome countryhouse in Buckinghamshire, which earnednotice in World War II as the home of theAstors. Her friendship with Queen Victoriahas made her name more than a footnoteto history, surviving even theembarrassment of fainting away duringdinner at the Palace.20 She was theQueen's favourite Mistress of the Robes,and one of her closest friends. The onlyinstance of discord between the twowomen occurred when the Duchess failedto persuade the Queen to give the Garterto the Duke of Sutherland. Victoria

thought, justifiably, that he had quiteenough already.21 At all other times theirintimacy was unassailable. On a visit toStafford House, the Queen was wont tosay, "I have come from my house to yourpalace." She was the Queen's onlycompanion in the first years of the Queen'swidowhood. Both women were widowed inthe same year, 1861. When she herselfdied, her son Lord Ronald Gower was withher. Her last words were, "I think I shallsleep now; I am so tired."22 Mother andson had a warm and close relationship,which gave him the comfort and strengthto be one of the few homosexuals in theVictorian period who could hold his headhigh. It was known that he lived with aman called Frank Hird, whom he hadadopted, and it was rumoured that he wasthe model for Lord Henry Wootten inOscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray.But he was not driven into exile, perhapsbecause, unlike the Duke of Beaufort'ssons and Wilde himself, Gower wasdiscreet. Scandal never approached him.Duchess Harriet prob ably knew all therewas to know of his life, and understoodhim. "She would enter into whatever onedid or felt," he wrote later, "whether in

sorrow or in joy."23

Her other son succeeded as 3rd Duke ofSutherland (1828-1892), who by this timepossessed the entire county of Sutherland(by virtue of his earldom). He built hisown private railway (called "The Duke ofSutherland's") which remained in thefamily until nationalisation in 1950, andeven dug (unsuccessfully) for gold. One isbound to wonder what on earth he couldpossibly have done with it. He isotherwise chiefly remembered for havingpopularised the cigarette and flaunted thetaboo which did not allow smoking inpublic places.24

He married twice. The first wife, Annie,was created Countess of Cromartie in herown right, and is the ancestress of thepresent Earl of Cromartie. She was not aneasy woman to live with. Lady Barkerfound her religious fervour and intensetoadyism "horribly disgusting",25 and herdaughter-in-law recalled that she lived intwo rooms of Stafford House, lying on asofa under a red silk eiderdown, andsurrounded by Minah birds and parrots,"which perched all over the room and on

the head of the old retriever".26 She dinedalone every day, always on chicken. Shewas an angel compared with hersuccessor.

Duchess Annie died in November 1888.The last ten years had not been happy.She viewed with apprehension theappearance of a Mrs Blair, who wasspending far too much time in the Duke'scompany, and seemed to have gainedcontrol over his every intention. Shefeared that the Duke might marry Mrs Blairafter her death, and intimated as much toher son, Lord Stafford. None of the familycould stand Mrs Blair, a vulgar, maliciouswoman, with cunning bristling at herfinger-tips. They could not have knownthat she would be their stepmother sosoon.

The Duke married Mrs Blair in Floridaonly three months after Annie's death.Society turned its well-trained back. In thefirst place the "liaison" had been thesubject of gossip for years, which wascrime enough, and in the second theyshould have waited the customary twelvemonths before insulting the dead woman's

memory. There was worse to come.

Duchess Annie had left her wardrobe toher daughter Lady Alexandra, with specificinstructions that she and she only was tohave the keys to boxes containing herclothes. Within two hours of the newDuchess's arrival at Stafford House on theMall, she had taken charge of herpredecessor's wardrobe, and thereafterwent around in her clothes and underwear.She contrived to get her stepson LordStafford and his wife Millie out ofLilleshall, Staffordshire, where they wereliving, and to confiscate all their furniture.The Duke set in motion legal actions todisentail some of the Sutherland estate tobe given to his new wife. With these andother schemes afoot, an impassable breachopened between the Duke on one side,and his son and daughter on the other.Lord Stafford refused to shake hisstep mother's hand, Lady Alexandrarefused to be under the same roof with her.The Duke could not be made to see thatthis "female" was a wicked woman.

Duchess Blair's intention was to beaccepted by society; this could not

happen so long as she was not acceptedby her husband's family. Her otherintention was grim and black - she setabout gaining possession of all theSutherland property for herself in the longterm, at the expense of the rightful heirs,and in the short term, to lay her hands onas much of his money as she could. Thesecond was the easier task. She persuadedthe Duke that his son had too great anallowance; he obediently reduced it, andthe son was forced to live elsewhere as aresult. The difference was pocketed byherself. She then persuaded him that hisservants were robbing him, that hishousehold expenses were too high, andthat she could save on them if he would lether. She said the expenses amounted to£18,000 a year, and she could run thehouseholds more efficiently on thatherself. (In fact, the expenses were only£14,000 a year.) He gave her the money,she dismissed the servants, employed newones of her own choosing, and ran thehouseholds personally, for about £10,000a year. The other £8,000 went into herprivate bank account, without herhusband's know ledge.

The long-term aims were more difficult.It was essential to Duchess Blair's planthat the Duke and his children should beestranged. She set about poisoning hismind against them, so that he wouldgradually agree to disinheriting them andgiving her everything instead. Shedestroyed some of their letters, interpretedothers in her own way. The result was thatby the beginning of 1892, the Duke,entirely in her control, was his own son'smortal enemy, threatening to injure him asmuch as was in his power (and that wasvery much indeed). Lady Alexandra hadmeanwhile died from the strain of it all,while the Duke and his son squabbled asto who should pay her doctor's bills.

She went so far as to publish a pamphletgiving her jaundiced version of eventsover the previous two years, which herstepson was bound to answer. There is acopy with his pencilled comments in themargin, "infernal lie", "this is actionable"and so on. The Duke then decided toamend his will in his wife's favour. Theletter of instruction to the solicitors waswritten in her hand, and the draft of thenew will was also in her hand. It gave her

all his personal estate, every item in thegreat houses of Trentham, Lilleshall,Tittensor, Stafford House and DunrobinCastle, apart from the heirlooms which hecould not leave away from his son, plusthe exclusive right to use family jewels inher lifetime. He was about to disentailLilleshall and leave that to her as well, buthe died before he could put it into effect.27

The Duke's death in 1892 was followedby two years' litigation.* Mrs Blair, nowDowager Duchess, attempted to gainpossession of one of the houses, with hertwo brothers, and said she would forceentry; extra caretakers were employed toprevent her doing so. The

* The 12th Duke of Somerset had made a similar will just sevenyears before, but his successors did not contest it. See Chapter 1. new Duke resisted the will on the grounds of her undueinfluence and fraud, claiming that she had instilled intothe mind of his father an unreasonable hostility towardshis children. She, in the presence of her solicitors,

snatched a bundle of her late husband's papers andthrew them into the fire. For this she was fined £250and imprisoned in Holloway for six weeks.28 Shemarried again and lived until 1912.

"Strath", the 4th Duke of Sutherland (1851-1913),once a Liberal M.P., was a notorious gambler andmember of the "fast set" which included the Duchess ofManchester. His wife Millicent Fanny, a woman ofpellucid beauty, was contemporary with LadyLondon derry and the Duchess of Atholl, the three ofthem riding bicycles down the Mall daily and oftenbeing chased by the police for it. Nevertheless, she wasone of the most assiduous social workers of her day.

The 5th Duke (1888-1963) was the last of that line,for though married twice he had no children. Hedeserves mention for having proposed legislation tointroduce Life Peers to the House of Lords, a measureadopted thirty-three years later. He off-loaded aconsiderable amount of his property after World War I,selling the Lilleshall estate and 144 square miles ofSutherland in 1919, and buying instead the "smaller"residence of Sutton Place. (This is now the home of J.Paul Getty.) His autobiography Looking Back serves

no good to his memory, for it is the unwilling confessionof a man whose greatest joy in life was the killing ofwild animals. Of course, he was not alone in this, butthere are few such self-satisfied chronicles of idleslaughter. The Duke admits that he shot his first stagwhen he was ten years old, and that he has shot wellover a thousand altogether. His Grace enjoyed visitinghis estate at Lilleshall, because "what I enjoyed best . . .were the pheasant shoots when, with seven to nineguns, we would bring down anything from 800 to 1000birds in the day". He found the shooting of elephants,from a safe distance, "exciting", and boasts that he "gota bison and several tigers". A man in his shooting party,Montague Guest, fell dead during the shoot. TheDuke's comment was, "Personally, I can imagine nopleasanter way to die."28

As it happened, he died without a gun in his hand.The succession to his titles was split between twofamilies, and the dukedom was separated from theearldom of Sutherland for the first time in 124 years.The earldom, being able to pass through the female line,went to his niece Mrs Janson, who is now the 24thCountess of Sutherland, with Dunrobin Castle as her

seat, a smaller house in Sutherland as her home, and ahouse in Edwardes Square, London. She has twinsons, one of whom is heir to the earldom and bears thename of Baron Strathnaver, a spurious title which hasnever been a peerage dignity and was never created 'bypatent. It is merely a territorial style, not available to theheir apparent as a courtesy title. He is also Master ofSutherland, a peculiarly Scottish title which is born bylegal right by the heir apparent or presumptive to aScottish peerage title.30 Thus the heir to the Duke ofArgyll is Master of Campbell (though generally knownas Marquess of Lome), and the heir to Lord Lovat isMaster of Lovat, and is known as such. LordStrathnaver would have far more right to call himselfMaster of Sutherland, for this is not a courtesy title atall, but a peerage dignity vested in him. However, longusage has established the custom of the heir beingreferred to as Lord Strathnaver, and it offends no one.Lord Strathnaver, who has been a police constable,married twice. By his second wife he has a son andheir, Alexander.

So where does the new Duke of Sutherland comefrom? He was born the Hon. John Egerton, son of the

Earl of Ellesmere. In 1939 he married Lady DianaPercy, daughter of the Duke of Northumber land (andsister to the present Duke), just before going to war,where he was captured and imprisoned by the enemy.In 1944 he succeeded to his father's title as Earl ofEllesmere, and in 1963 became Duke of Sutherland onthe death of his distant relation. It is curious that thedukedom was created for the benefit of the Leveson-Gowers, yet the name of Leveson-Gower has nowdisap peared from the title. The present Duke, whohas no children, has an heir presumptive, Cyril Egerton,born in 1905, who has a son. So the name of Egertonseems assured in the Sutherland descent. This isbecause the Duke is descended from the 1st Duke'ssecond son, Lord Francis Leveson-Gower (1800-1857), who was created Earl of Ellesmere andassumed the surname Egerton to fulfil a conditionwhich enabled him to inherit in 1845 the estates of hisbachelor uncle the last Duke of Bridgwater (whosename was Egerton). Old Bridgwater would bedelighted if he could know that his surname hassurvived at the expense of the Leveson-Gowers.

The Duke has a house in Roxburghshire, purchased

by his father in 1912 and a house in Suffolk. The lineof which he is representative has much moreagreeable characteristics than that of the first fiveDukes of Sutherland. His ancestor, Lord Francis, inno way resembled his insensitive father. Nothing butpraise for his gentleness, his erudition, his charm,informs opinions of contemporaries. He was amember of the Roxburghe Club and himself wrotetwenty-six books. He had no enemies, was alwaysmore considerate of others than of himself, pursuedtruth and virtue all his life. He was a perfect exampleof how to live. Even Creevey laid aside his acidquillto admit, "greater civility I defy anyone to receivethan I have done from him".31 And Greville, to whomhe was related, penned the most splendid tribute. Oninheriting the Bridgwater estate, he "found himself thepossessor of vast wealth, and surrounded by apopulation sunk in ignorance and vice". He thenspent the remainder of his life devoted to the welfareof the people in his charge. "He employed his wealthliberally in promoting the material comfort and raisingthe moral condition of those by whose labour thatwealth was produced." He built churches, schools,

libraries. He became "the object of generalveneration and attachment". But, says Greville, onlyhis family had the luck to know the excellence andcharm of his character. "He regarded withindifference the ordinary objects of wordly ambition.He lived in and for his family, and he was their joy,their delight, and their pride."32

A final curiosity. Lord Francis Leveson-Gower maywell not have been the son of the 1st Duke ofSutherland at all, which would explain why heresembled him so little. It was widely believed thathis father was Lord Carlisle. His "official" father hadanyway been advised by doctors to abstain fromintercourse with his wife in the year that she becamepregnant. If this is true, then the present Duke'sconnection with the ducal line is not by blood, but byadoption.

references

1 . Eric Richards, The Leviathan of Wealth, p. 4.2. Duke of Sutherland, Looking Back, p. 20.3. ibid., p. 21; D.N.B.4. Greville, II, 404.5. John Prebble, The Highland Clearances, p. 63.6. Creevey Papers, Vol. I, p. 216.7. Prebble, op. cit., p. 62.8. Lord Granville Leveson-Gower, PrivateCorrespondence, Vol. I,

p. 118.9. Prebble, 60.10. P. Gaskell, Morvern Transformed, p. 9.11 . Prebble, 67-79, 85-91, 107, 111,113, 118.12. Richards, op. cit., p. 284.

13. ibid., 193.ibid., 168.

14. Professor Checkland, Foreword toRichards, op. cit.

15. F. F. Darling, West Highland Survey,p. 6.

16. People's Paper, 12 March 1853.

17. Greville, II, 404.

18. Greevey, Life and Times,-p. 366.

19. Lady Holland to Her Son, p. 182.20. Greville, V, 227.

21. Lord Ronald Gower, Vol. I, p. 317.

22. ibid., I, 324.

23. Leaves from the Notebooks of LadyDorothy Nevill, p. 127.

24. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life, p.80.

25. Sutherland, Looking Back, p. 38.

26. Londonderry Papers, D/Lo/F 631

27. Complete Peerage.28. Sutherland, Looking Back, pp. 55-6,64.

29. Valentine Heywood, British Titles, pp.103-5.

30. Creevey, Life and Times, p. 283.

Greville, VII, 271-2.

12. Contrasts in Fortune

Duke of Rutland; Duke of Newcastle; Duke of Fife

The three Dukes of this chapter are not connected inany way. One was a Whig who eluded fame, another aTory who chased it, and the third an unknown Scotwho had fame thrust upon him when he married into theRoyal Family. They are united only by the hand ofirony. For the descendants of the reluctant Duke ofRutland have gone from strength to strength, those ofthe eager Duke of Newcastle have suffered onecatastrophe after another, and those of the Duke of Fifehave withdrawn once more into the shadows.

* * *

When William III died in 1702, in his pocket wasfound a letter from Rachel Lady Russell, begging the

King "in the most submissive manner imaginable" tomake the Earl of Rutland a duke. What, one might ask,was it to do with Lady Russell? Further down in theletter, which is now at Chatsworth, she reveals herinterest and at the same time her silken subtleblackmail. "Be pleased to allow me to answer for allthose I am related to", she says, "they will look onthemselves equally honoured with Lord Rutland byyour favour to his family."1And there you have it.Rachel was the widow of William Russell, martyred forhis part in the Rye House Plot, and now a posthumousnational hero under King William. Parliament andpeople were will ing to do anything to please her. Ascompensation for her loss, Rachel already had twodukes in the family — her son was Duke of Bedford,and her son-in-law was Duke of Devonshire, bothcreated in 1694. She had one other daughter, who hadmarried Lord Roos, later, Earl of Rutland. Rachelwanted duchesses for daughters, a countess was notgood enough. She pressed the case in spite of Rutlandhimself, who was really not very interested in being aduke and did nothing to promote his advancement. Hewas even a little embarrassed by it all.

The King died with the letter in his pocket, and LadyRussell took up the matter with his successor, QueenAnne, immediately. She persuaded her daughter towrite to Rutland imploring him to accept the title when itwas offered. Queen Anne prevaricated. She was welldisposed towards Rutland, who had sheltered her atBelvoir Castle when her father, James II, wasoverthrown, but did not want to create jealousiesamong her peers. She was, she said, "determined not tocreate or promote any one single person, there are somany that ask, and whoever is refused may be angry".Lady Russell would not let the matter rest. "I shallcontinue to be as watchful as I can", she wrote toRutland, "that we miss not what we think we have acertain assurance of. Courts are slippery places."2

Rachel eventually extracted from the Queen apromise that she would make good the late King'sintention, but only after she had made John ChurchillDuke of Marlborough. Rachel grudgingly concededthat this would be proper. Accordingly John Manners,Lord Roos's father, was created Duke of Rutland andMarquess of Granby on 29th March 1703, threemonths after Marlborough. The girl for whom all this

was done, Catherine Russell, Lady Roos, died toosoon to enjoy it. She was Duchess of Rutland for lessthan a year, dying in childbirth at her ninth pregnancy in1 7 1 1 , when her husband had been Duke for ninemonths.

The Manners family took to their new distinctioneasily and without fuss. They had already beenconsiderable landowners for over 600 years and werenicely settled in their grand style of country living. Theirvery name may testify to their significance. "Manners"could derive from Mesnieres, the town near Rouenwhere the family lived before the Conquest, or it couldbe from Medieval Latin manerium, meaning "manor-house". The first to be mentioned in history is Robert deManeriis in the eleventh century. Their two seats todayare Belvoir Castle (pronounced "Beaver"), andromantic Haddon Hall in Derbyshire, next door toChatsworth.

Belvoir Castle has belonged to the Manners since1508, coming into the family by the customary route ofmarriage (it had previously been the home of theBarons de Ros). The other house, Haddon Hall, is, inthe words of Nicholas Pevsner, "the English castle par

excellence, not the forbidding fortress on anunassailable crag, but the large, rambling, safe, greylovable home of knights and their ladies, theunreasonable dream-castle of those who think of theMiddle Ages as a time of chivalry and valour and noblefeelings".3

Haddon Hall came to the Manners through aromantic elopement, the archetypical tale of chivalry.John Manners, second son of the 1st Earl of Rutland,fell in love with one of the daughters at Haddon Hall -the beautiful auburn-haired Dorothy Vernon. Dorothylived there with father, Sir George Vernon,stepmother, and sister. Sir George did not approve ofyoung Manners, and forbade his daughter to entertainhim. But such was the strength of their love that JohnManners dis guised himself as a forester and came toHaddon Hall to see Dorothy undetected. Theseclandestine interviews went on for a while, until SirGeorge got wind of them, and locked his daughter up.Father, step mother and sister kept her virtuallyprisoner at Haddon. But they did not reckon on John'sdetermination. The night that Dorothy's sister wasmarried, while all and sundry were distracted by the

festivities in the ballroom, Dorothy slipped out, througha door which still exists, down the steps that are stillthere, on to the bridge, where she found her shiningwhite knight who whisked her off on galloping steedinto the balmy night. They galloped all night long untilthey reached Aylston, in Leicestershire, where theywere married. It is the best of all elopement stories,and the name of Dorothy Vernon justly reverber atesthrough the centuries. Sir George died and John andDorothy eventually returned to Haddon Hall, where itmay be supposed they lived happily ever after. Thelove story is important, because their grandson became8th Earl of Rutland, and his descendants continue indirect line to the present Duke of Rutland.4

The earldom was created in 1525, conferred byHenry VIII upon Thomas Manners (c. 1492-1543).Thomas was thus rewarded for his loyalty to the King,a loyalty which had taken Henry's side in the divorcequestion. He had pleaded with Pope Clement VII toaccede to Henry's wishes,5 and when his embassy wasunsuccessful, had been one of the judges at the trial ofAnne Boleyn. Thomas, who was also descendedthrough the female line from a sister of Edward IV,

was showered with lands at the dissolution of themonasteries by a grateful Henry.

Since then, the family has shown an abundant lackof ambition. They have remained in the country,minding their own business, and looking after theirdependants in the best traditions of landowners'responsibility. Writing about the 5th Duke of Rutland(1778-1857), Greville calls him selfish, in the sense ofself-indulgent, but acknowl edges that his patricianapproach is more beneficial than is often realised. "TheDuke of Rutland is as selfish a man as any of his class,that is, he never does what he does not like, andspends his whole life in a round of such pleasures assuit his taste, but he is neither a foolish nor a bad man,and partly from a sense of duty, partly from inclination,he devotes time and labour to the interest and welfareof the people who live and labour on his estate."Greville points out that he attended all the meetings ofthe residents, invited anyone who had a complaint tosee him privately, and was more a friend than "politicalquacks and adventurers who flatter and cajole them".0His second son, Lord John Manners, who was later7th Duke of Rutland (1818-1906), founded a political

group devoted to raising the condition of the people,called "Young England". Manners and Smythe and afew Cambridge friends were responsible for themovement. They were disciples of Disraeli, and theywere Tories. They wanted to reconstruct Toryism on apopular basis, and thought the working classes couldbe trusted to follow them. They wanted theadvancement of the people, but under the leadership ofthe aristocracy, who would have the experiencenecessary to construct sensible policies. Mannersadvocated public holidays and factory reform. Thecommon enemy, in his view, of the aristocracy and theworking classes was middle-class liberalism. Disraelidrew a portrait of the Duke when he was Lord JohnManners in his novel Coningsby, the Duke is "LordHenry Sydney", and of him Disraeli writes, "hedevoted his time and thought, labour and life, to onevast and noble purpose, the elevation of the conditionof the great body of the people".7 The "YoungEngland" group lasted only a few years.

Another example is afforded by the 4th Duke ofRutland (1754- 1787) who spoke out against thepunitive taxation imposed on the American colonies, his

ally in this being once again the Duke of Richmond. Hesaid that the taxation was "commenced in iniquity, ispursued with resentment, and can terminate in nothingbut blood". He proposed a motion in the House ofLords "to cause the most speedy and effectualmeasures to be taken for restoring peace in America",which was defeated by 243 votes to 86. This duke'sfather was the famous Marquess of Granby, theGeneral (1721- 1770), son of the 3rd Duke whooutlived him. Granby, though he waged war, wantedpeace and, though an aristocrat, was loved by hissoldiers. There are few examples in our history of amore popular soldier, a fact illustrated by the number ofpubs and inns up and down the country which bear hisname. Only the Duke of Wellington has more publichouses named after him.

Granby was Colonel of the Leicester Blues, andCommander-in- Chief in Europe. The Battle of Mindenis justly associated with his courage and wisdom. Hemarried a daughter of the Proud Duke of Somerset,and was painted by Reynolds no less than twelve times.He was a blazing hero, whose career should haveended in glory. Unwarranted attacks by the satirist

Junius, who wanted to break the government of theDuke of Grafton and used Granby as a lever, spoilt thelast years of his life. He still excited admirationeverywhere, was revered by King and commoner alike;"George II respected and loved him; George IIIrespected and feared him."8 Politically moti vatedmalice could not harm his reputation for long. When hedied of stomach gout at the age of forty-nine, the wholecountry mourned. Wraxall wrote: "The celebratedMarquess of Granby, notwith standing the attack madeon him by Junius, and the greater misfor tune that heunderwent of being defended by Sir William Draper,left behind him a name dear to Englishmen."9 WilliamPitt simply said, "The loss to England is, indeed,irreparable."10

Granby's son, the 4th Duke of Rutland, died evenyounger at the age of thirty-three. In his case, it wasdisease of the liver which carried him off, brought aboutby a gargantuan appetite. He began each day with abreakfast of six or seven turkey's eggs,11 washed downall day long with port. He was not the only one, ofcourse; the Georgian period was drowned in port,

which explains why so many characters in this bookdied of gout. Drunkenness was so common thatdebates in the Houses of Parliament were frequentlyunintelligible because the assembled representatives ofthe people were too inebriated to know what they weresaying. Old Jockey of Norfolk (the 1 ith Duke ofNorfolk) was alive at this time, and the most celebrateddrunk in England. Rutland certainly killed himself bygross overindulgence. He was "a victim of hisirregularities", as a contem porary tactfully put it.12

After death, his body was opened, and "his liverappeared so much decayed and wasted, as to renderhis recovery impossible". There is a touching story thathe asked to see his wife shortly before he died, and,realising that she was then too far away, said, "In pointof time, it will be impossible, I must there fore becontent to die, with her image before my mind's eye."15

His wife was Lady Mary Somerset, a daughter of the4th Duke of Beaufort. She was one of the celebratedbeauties of the age, rivalling her contemporaryGeorgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. She was the veryessence of femininity, magnetising the gaze of all whosaw her. "Grace itself formed her limbs, and

accompanied her movements . . . the Plantagenetscould not have been represented by a more faultlesssample of female loveliness."14 The writer informs usthat he is neither partial nor exaggerating in hisdescription. But she fell far short of the formidableGeorgiana in personality. While Georgiana seducedeveryone with the sparkle of her conversation, theDuchess of Rutland was rather dull. She was to be seenand not heard. The Duke consoled himself by takingmore lively mistresses, the most regular of which was aMrs Billington. According to a saucy article among thetete-a-tete series, his grandfather the 3rd Duke (1696-1779) had been practically insatiable. "We shall notattempt", it says, "to enumerate all the grizettes Cornuto[the Duke] has successively enjoyed within these eightmonths, as the catalogue would swell this article farbeyond its usual extent."15

Two more duchesses of Rutland have made theirmark. The wife of the 5th Duke had a well-knownaffair with H.R.H. the Duke of York (uncle to QueenVictoria), and, more recently, the wife of the 8th Dukewas an artist of no small distinction. This was Violet,Duchess of Rutland, nee Violet Lindsay, mother of

Lady Diana Cooper (born 1892). She began marriageas Mrs Manners, as her husband was then Mr HenryManners, son of Lord John Manners; Lord John thenbecame 7th Duke, and Mr Henry eventually 8th Dukeof Rutland. Duchess Violet's work was pre-Raphaelitein style inspired particularly by Burne-Jones. Herportraits in pencil and water-colour show an extremelydelicate and sensitive touch. If she was not taken asseriously as she deserved, she had her rank to blamewhich acted as a disavantage to her. But foreigners, notsaddled with the tangle of confused emotions andprejudices which the English class-system breeds, havenever doubted her worth as an artist. Her work hangsin the Louvre in Paris. Her most accomplished piece isnot a drawing, but a sculpture, inspired, by poetry andpersonal tragedy. It is a statue of her eldest son, whodied at the age of nine in 1894, and it can now be seenat Haddon Hall.

Quite apart from her work as an artist, she was aconsiderable figure in Edwardian England, and into the1920s and 1930s. She had limitless energy, andastonishing beauty. While she reigned at Belvoir, thecastle, unknown to most of England, became famous.

She was one of "The Souls", an intellectual group at theturn of the century which prided itself on unconventionalbehaviour and discus sion long before the Bloomsburyset of Virginia Woolf and Lytton Strachey began toshock polite society. "The Souls", so called becausethat was one of their perennial subjects of conversation,were revo lutionary in so far as they talked aboutmatters which were sup posed to be taboo for nicewell-bred ladies. They were led by the Tennant sistersfrom Scotland, who had no time for such nonsense, andwho virtually changed the tone of London society withina few years. One of them, Margot, married PrimeMinister Asquith. Another Soul was the last of the greatrakes, Harry Cust (of LordBrownlow's family), who appears to have gone to bedwith every beautiful woman in London. One of hisamours was Violet, Duchess of Rutland. She died in1937, leaving "many devoted descen dants".16

Her husband, the 8th Duke (11852-1925), wasPrincipal Private Secretary to the Prime Minister LordSalisbury, and was known by the sobriquet"Salisbury's Manners", a nice double entendre.

Belvoir Castle, with its terraces and towers, its

boundless prospect, and its exterior "so grand as tosink criticism in admiration",17 is heavy with historicalassociations, and knew its days of glitter and fame longbefore Duchess Violet made its name well-known inthis century. James I was entertained there six times byFrancis, 6th Earl of Rutland (1578-1632), whosedaughter Catherine Manners mar ried the King's loverGeorge Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, in 1620. Duringthe Civil War, Belvoir was first taken by the Royalists,then stormed by the Parliamentary party, whoafterwards dismantled it brick by brick. The reigningEarl rebuilt it after the Restoration, com pleting thework in 1668. In the time of the 4th Duke, the chaplainof Belvoir was the poet George Crabbe. Then, in1816, a second catastrophe befell the castle - a firewhich caused £120,000 worth of damage. Over 200paintings were lost that day, including twenty portraitsby Reynolds, some Rubens, some Van Dycks. It wasquickly rebuilt, and the old medieval ways re-established. Until comparatively recent times, into thetwentieth century, the style of living at Belvoir wasromantically archaic, with trumpeters in bright liveryand powered wigs marching up and down the

corridors and sounding a great blast when it was timefor guests to get up; the watchman, who throughout thenight shouted the time at each hour; the ballroomalways ready for dancing; a private orchestra playingsoft music in a room adjoining the dining-room -background noise from musicians who were neverseen.18

Haddon Hall has had a quieter history. The lastDuke to live there was the 3rd, in the eighteenthcentury, and he only sporadically. In 1700, more orless, it ceased to be inhabited, and remained so formore than 200 years. Until, that is, the 9th Duke ofRutland (1886-1940) achieved his childhood ambitionand took up residence there in 1927, two years afterhe came to the title. This duke was a very learned man,a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, and aconsiderable historian, who cherished the Mannersfamily archives when so many other great families werethrowing them into an attic room (or the "muni ment"room) and forgetting them. In 1939, the Duke offeredBelvoir and Haddon as a wartime refuge for many ofthe Public Records which, if they remained inChancery Lane, stood risk of des truction by bombing.

(Actually the Public Record Office suffered onlysuperficial damage.) The offer was gladly accepted,and the Duke was made an (unpaid) Assistant Keeperin order that he could legally have custody of therecords. He became quite an expert at making seals.He married a daughter of Frank Tennant, one of hismother's "Souls", and died in 1940. His son thepresent Duke continued his father's custodianship ofthe Public Records until the end of the war.

Though Belvoir and Haddon still belong to the Duke,much of the estates of both have been sold in thiscentury to meet the costs of taxation. After World WarI it has been estimated that a quarter of Englandchanged hands as the great landowners off-loadedthousands of acres. Rutland was no exception. Some14,000 acres of Haddon were sold in 1920 for£355,458, and another sale of 28,000 acres of Belvoirfollowed shortly afterwards for £1 million. There are18,000 acres left, managed by the present Duke, whoalso has business interests in the Midlands; the RutlandDevelopment Com pany is concerned with hotels.

They are a pious family. One of them, CharlesManners-Sutton (1755-1828), who was a grandson of

the 3rd Duke of Rutland, became Archibishop ofCanterbury and baptised Queen Victoria. A number ofthe Manners have tried their hand at poetry, but usuallywith less happy results. The only one to achieve ameasure of decency in the literary field was Lord JohnManners (7th Duke of Rutland), Disraeli's friend andthe "Young England" enthusiast, later to be Postmaster-General; he published several volumes of poetry. Onthe other hand, it has been seriously suggested thatRoger Manners, 5th Earl of Rutland (1576-1612) wasWilliam Shakespeare. There is a heavy nineteenth-century German thesis, by one Carl E. Bleibtreu, whichseeks to prove this identity.19 Other foreign academicsheld the same conviction, though it has never beenentertained in this country. Were it true, then Venusand Adonis was written while its author was barelyfifteen years old, and half a dozen of his plays before hewas twenty.

This same earl was involved in the Essex plot againstElizabeth I, and was imprisoned in the Tower with hisbrothers in 1600. His lands were restored by James I in1603, so his disgrace did not last long.

One curious feature of the Rutland story is the

number of early deaths they have suffered. Of course,familes were decimated by plague and epidemics inElizabethan times, and the state of medical knowledgewas so rudimentary that no one could reasonablyexpect to live long. But the Rutlands were exceptionallyprone to short lives. The 2nd Earl was thirty-sevenwhen he died, the 3rd Earl was thirty- eight: the 4thEarl died at thirty-six and the 5th Earl at thirty- five.(His wife, a daughter of Sir Philip Sidney, was sodistraught that she died a few weeks later, using pillsprovided by Sir Walter Raleigh.)20 The 6th Earl lived tofifty-four, but his sons died in infancy (about whichmore later). The 2nd Duke of Rutland was forty-fivewhen he died, and the soldier Marquess of Granbyforty- nine. His son the 4th Duke was only thirty-three.Catherine, daughter of the 2nd Duke, lost both her sonsby an epidemic sore throat, then miscarried of twins. "Itlooks as if it was a plague fixed on the walls of theirhouse", wrote Walpole.

The rest lived to a decent old age, it is true, butthere have been tragedies in more recent times. Theson and heir of the 8th Duke of Rutland and Violetdied at the age of nine, in 1894, and the present

Duke's second son, Lord Robert Manners, died ofleukaemia at the age of two in 1964.

It would be natural to assign all this to coincidence,or even to point out that there are marginally moreManners who lived long than died young. This wouldbe to ignore an interesting circum stance. In 1620 twoservant-girls were executed at Lincoln for witch craft;they had placed a curse on the Manners heirs.

The bald facts of the case are these: the 6th Earland Countess of Rutland took pity upon a very poorfoul-mouthed woman called Joan Flower. Gossips saidshe was a witch, because her eyes were "fiery andhollow, her speech fell and envious, her demeanourstrange and exotic". She was heard to curse and swearon the slightest pre text. The Rutlands, decent folk,took no notice of such rumours, and employed Joan'stwo daughters at Belvoir Castle. They were Margaretand Philippa Flower. They were first engaged asoccasional charwomen, and Margaret was laterpromoted as a permanent servant, in the wash-house.

The gossips got to work again when the otherdaughter, Philippa, took a local boy, Thomas Simpson,for her lover. He claimed that he was so besotted with

her that he could not leave her, even when he wantedto. A common enough feeling, one would havethought, but Philippa was said to have bewitched him.She was "lewdly transpor ted with the love of oneThomas Simpson".

Certain other indecencies, not specified, wereimputed to Margaret Flower, upon which the Countesssacked her. Mother Joan was so furious that sheplaced a curse upon the whole Manners family. TheEarl and Countess forthwith fell violently ill, vomitingabominably.Their two sons, Henry and Francis, were also attacked,and suc cumbed. They died mere infants, deprivingtheir bereaved parents of a direct heir (the earldompassed to a brother).

The Flower girls were arrested and tried at Lincoln.The accusa tion was that they were the instruments oftheir mother's sorcery, and that the devil workedthrough them. Joan made a melodramatic gesture at thetrial, which sealed her fate. She took some bread andsome butter, and declaimed "If I am guilty of witchcraft,may this bread and butter never go through me." Sheate it, and died immedi ately in terrible agony,

confirming to the assembled judges that she was indeedthe devil's mistress. Her daughters then confessed,were convicted of murder, and executed.21

At Bottesford Church there is a monument to thedead children, erected by their father the Earl, on whichis written the fact that they died of sorcery. There was,then, in 1620 no doubt about the matter. With hindsightand better knowledge, we can see how the mistakecould be made in an hysterical age, when the distinctionbetween religion and superstition was not understood,least of all by the Church, and when incomprehensibledisasters, like plagues, needed to be answered for. Thetruth is quite likely that the girls were guilty of murder,but that their powers were merely human. Theyprobably poisoned the children, goaded by themalicious revenge of their unpopular mother, andattempted the same on the parents, whose constitutionswere better able to tolerate the attack. Also, they wereundoubted whores. It is possible that they wereconvinced themselves that they must be witches to becapable of such evil intent. Still, the case is on recordfor what it is worth. And it must not go unsaid thatmany of the earls who died young existed up to a

century before Joan Flower uttered her supposedcurse. The Manners family have continued their littlekingdom based on benevolent paternalism for centuries,without looking over their shoulder at any imprecationsfrom witches. They have not made any cymbals crash,they have not been Prime Ministers, but they have onegreat soldier and one Postmaster-General. More thanthis, they can comfortably congratulate themselves onhaving been decent men who disarm enemies. EvenWalpole, who was not really happy unless he couldbring the great down to a level where they could bescrutinised to their detriment, could not be unkind to the3rd Duke, "a nobleman of great worth and goodness",he said.22 The same was true of the 4th, 5th and 6thDukes. The 7th Duke (Lord John Manners) waslamented even by Queen Victoria, who said she wouldmiss him very much ;2S he was, says the biographer ofDisraeli, "of a loyalty, purity, and kindness of nature,that amounted almost to genius"."

The 10th Duke of Rutland, c.b.e., was born in 1919.He was chairman of Leicester County Council 1974-77. He has been married twice. The first wife was amodel, Anne Cumming-Bell, and the present Duchess

is Frances Sweeney, daughter of Mr Sweeney, anAmerican businessman, and Margaret Whigham(formerly Duchess of Argyll). The heir, Marquess ofGranby, was born in 1959, and the Duchess Dowagerlives in a small house on the Belvoir estate.

* * * *

The dukes of Newcastle might have been invented asa sharp contrast to the dukes of Rutland, for theirqualities could not be less alike. The Newcastlecharacter has throughout been fickle, feckless, restlessand irresolute, and in consequence their fortunes havebeen unstable. When the 6th Duke married HenriettaAdela Hope in the nineteenth century the foundations ofthe Newcastle estate were already showing cracks. Hehad been before the bankruptcy courts in 1870. HenceMiss Hope, though illegitimate and a nouveau riche(with the Hope Diamond in her pocket), and nottherefore the most suitable duchess material, waswelcomed as a salvation. "Lord Lincoln is to marryMiss Hope," wrote a contemporary (Lincoln is thecourtesy title), "the daughter of ugly little Henry Hopewith the big house in Piccadilly. She is illegitimate, but

pretty. Her mother is a Frenchwoman. She will have allHope's fortune, £50,000 a year. It is a great thing forthe dukedom of Newcastle and will put it on its legsagain."26 Alas, not for long. The Hope collection ofpictures, which included one of the most famousVermeers in the world, plus thirty tons of sculpture andnine tons of books, were all disposed of by auction invarious sales before 1917. The notorious 44-carat bluediamond was sold for £120,000. All that remains of theHope connection is its addition to Pelham and Clintonin the family surname. The Hope diamond was said tobring bad luck to whomever owned it.

It is not just bad luck. The Newcastles have sufferedfrom an inability to make a decision and stick to it.Sometimes the results have been serious. The 5th Duke(1811-1864) was in charge of the War Office at thetime of the Crimean campaign. Such a man in such aplace at such a time could hardly have been moreinopportune. He stayed up all night trying to grapplewith the problem, and reached no conclusions at all. Helacked the resource necessary to deal with anemergency. He was slow, vacillating, and knew nothingof military affairs. He insisted on doing everything

himself, caused himself much anxiety of mind bydwelling upon the Crimean catastrophe over which hepresided, and died at fifty-three, a broken man. "I hearNewcastle is very low," wrote Greville, "as well he maybe, for no man was ever placed in so painful a position,and it is one from which it is impossible for him toextricate himself."26

His achievement was to establishmilitary bases for the protection of trade.

The 1st Duke of Newcastle of thepresent creation, Thomas Pelham-Holles(1693-1768), was in an even more exaltedposition, for he was Prime Minister for thebest pan of seven years from 1754 to 1762.(His younger and more famous brother,Henry Pelham, preceded him as PrimeMinister.) The country has probably neverhad, before or since, a more universallyridiculed leader than Newcastle. He was atotal buffoon. Hopelessly disorganised,and deeply ignorant, he seriously thoughtHanover was north of England. He fussedand bothered and bustled and rushed andappeared all the time ever so important andbusy, but his absurd posturings broughthim laughter, not prestige. Hervey makes

all kinds of disparaging remarks about him.The Duke is "light-headed", "a fidget, afright and a bustle", he talks withoutthinking, and he has "limb-fever".27

"Wealth, titles and power and honourscan no more give sense to the Duke ofNewcastle, than paint, patches andbrocade can give beauty to the Duchessof Rutland."28 Walpole said that it madehim smile to watch Newcastle "friskingwhile his grave is digging".29

Nobody took him seriously. He wasquite devoid of tact, insulting peoplethrough innocent foolishness and beingdeeply hurt and worried if ever he foundout that he had done so (people made surehe did), for he wanted more than anythingto get on well with every one, and foreveryone to think him a splendid fellow.Naturally, they did not; they thought himobsequious and silly. Newcastleconcluded that there was a conspiracyagainst him, which made him anxious,fretful, and finally jealous. "Hepersonal ised any political or familydisagreement as a lack of love for him orlack of understanding of his predicament

of the moment."80 His vanity was injured;he had tried so hard to please, and hisfailure he ascribed to the faithlessness ofthose around him. Thereupon, he becamedistrustful and suspicious to the point ofparanoia. He harboured grudges. Hewould burst into tears on the smallestpretext. "His nature and mind were warped,twisted and stunted, and his life must havebeen an agony, though perhaps he himselfdid not clearly realise how much hesuffered. He was haunted by fears; everysmall incident was the portent of terriblethings to come; every molehill a volcano.With an abundant substratum ofintelligence and common sense, he lookeda fool, and with an inexhaustible fund ofwarm human kindness and sinceregoodwill, he acquired a reputation fordishonesty. ... If he was vain, this wasmerely a craving for some compensationfor the insults and humiliations, real andimaginary, which he daily suffered andwhich cut him to the heart.""

Of this humiliation, there is ample evidence in hisletters. In one outburst to the Bishop of Salisbury he ishurt "to see me deserted, and abandoned by almost

everybody, by my own Family particularly, and myEnemies, by that alone, encouraged and enabled totreat me with the greatest Marks of Indignity andContempt; when all I expect is Common Decency, andCommon Respect".32

The best that can be said for the Duke of Newcastleis that his faults were forgivable, and his intentionsgood. But he was not a statesman. Among dukes, hewas the chemical opposite of that solid imperturbable8th Duke of Devonshire, who refused three times theoffice of Prime Minister, yet wielded more influence bysitting still than did all the ceaseless scurrying ofNewcastle, "at least as much frightened of doing rightas of doing wrong".

Newcastle had a habit of throwing his arms aboutpeople's necks and smothering them with kisses. Heturned up on the Duke of Grafton's sickbed and almostcaused him a relapse with his energetic demonstrationsof affection.

The 2nd Duke (1720-1794), who was known asLord Lincoln in his youth, had a very high opinion of hissexual powers, about which he boasted far and wide.He was famous for his bed-hopping. He was

encouraged, it is true, by that licentious age to takeadvantage of his good looks; even the Kingacknowledged that in his view Lincoln was "thehandsomest man in England".ss The Earl was twenty-one years old when this remark relates, and already alady-killer. Sir Charles Hanbury Williams addressedhim a wickedly explicit Ode:

"O Lincoln, joy of womankind,

To you this humble ode's design'd;

Let inspire my song:

Gods! with what pow'rs you are endu'd! Tiberius was not half so lewd,Nor Hercules so strong."34

In 1743 he was appointed Lord of the Bedchamber,and Walpole played a joke on him. At a masqueradeball, he dressed as a Persian, and thus disguisedapproached Lord Lincoln, producing from his bosom aletter wrapped in Persian silk, saying it was from KouliKan. It was addressed to "Henry Clinton Earl ofLincoln, highly favoured among women". Here is a

piece of it:"We have heard prodigious things of thee: they say,thy vigour is nine times beyond that of our prophet;and that thou art more amorous than Solomon theson of David. Yet they tell us, that thou art not abovethe ordinary stature of the sons of men: are thesethings so? . . . Adieu, happy young man! May thy days be aslong as thy manhood, and may thy manhood continuemore piercing than Zufager, that sword of Hali whichhad two points, etc." 35

Lady W. Montagu's messenger-boy, who was barelysixteen years old, said that he was not such a child thathe did not know what went on whenever Lord Lincolnpaid a call. Her ladyship always instructed the staff toadmit no one else, and then called for pen and ink,declaring that she and Lord Lincoln were engaged inwriting history.

Lincoln subordinated everything to his amorouspursuits. He had no time for his uncle, the 1st Duke,who foolishly adored him, and in politics he was "as

much of a nonentity as a duke can in England be ...anullity".36

His descendant, the 6th Duke of Newcastle (1834-1879), married on an impulse of the heart. He saw abeautiful girl walking down the street in Nice, followedher for a while, and determined to find out who shewas. This was Henrietta Adela Hope, illegitimatedaughter of Henry Hope, and she was in time Duchessof Newcastle. After her husband's death she became aRoman Catholic, and went to live in the slums ofWhitechapel with two other ladies, devoting herself tosocial work. Like the "flying Duchess" of Bedford, wholiked to show her guests the most "interesting" cases inher cottage hospital at Woburn, the Duchess ofNewcastle loved the worst cases of social degradationin the East End. She is buried at St Patrick'sLeytonstone.

The 8th Duke (1866-1941) married twice. His firstwife was an actress, or more accurately a song-and-dance girl, called Mary Augusta Yohe, an American girlof Dutch extraction. They married at HampsteadRegister Office in 1894. The marriage was a disaster,ending in divorce in 1902. The Duke chose for his

second wife the daughter of an Australian banker. Shewas Olive Murial Thompson, and when she died in1912 he retreated from public view as completely as hecould. He had also lost a leg in a shooting accident bythis time.

The son of the 8th Duke and Olive Muriel Thompsonis the 9th and present Duke of Newcastle, born in1907. He flew with the R.A.F. in World War II, andhas been a squadron leader. He has been married threetimes. His first wife was Mrs Jean Banks Gimbernat,the adopted daughter of Mr Banks of New York. Theywere divorced in 1940. The Duke's second wife wasLady Mary Montagu-Stuart- Wortley, daughter of theEarl of Wharncliffe, in 1946. They had two daughters,then separated. Before he could marry his third wife,Sally Ann Wemyss, the Duke was cited in her divorcecase amid a torrent of unaccustomed publicity. Theepisode was called by the Duchess "overpoweringlyvulgar".38 Two years later, the Duke was divorced, andhe married the present Duchess in Jamaica in 1959. Bythat time he had broken every tangible link withEngland. - The Duke's second daughter, LadyKathleen Pelham-Clinton- Hope, in 1970 provided the

newspapers with the most picturesque instance ofimpulsive affection in the history of her family. She meta London Transport Underground train guard at a partyone evening, and married him the next day. His namewas Edward Reynolds. Three days later they wereseparated. Lady Kathleen told the newspapers that ithad all been a joke, "a gas" to use her ownexpression.39

Curiously, Lady Kathleen's sudden elopement in1970 is almost exactly paralleled by that of her great-great-aunt Lady Susan Clinton in 1858. Lady Susandid not choose a railway guard, but her impulses werejust as raw.

She was the only daughter of the 5th Duke ofNewcastle (the Crimean one), and she fell in love withLord Adolphus Vane, son of the 3rd Marquess ofLondonderry. It was a coup de foudre. Unfortunately,the Duke withheld his consent. Three times sheimplored him, and three times he made her refuse LordAdolphus. The reasons were not rank or money thistime: the Londonderrys were wealthy enough. The realcause was sinister: Lord Adolphus was on the brink ofmadness, although none of the participants in the drama

which ensued can bring themselves to say so.The Duke wrote to Lady Londonderry (with a style

fitting for one who had been the only duke ever to bePresident of the Oxford Union, in 1831),

". . . though I hope you will feel that I may rightlydecline to enter into particulars or assign any reason,I must distinctly and positively refuse my consent tothe marriage. Moreover I can hold out no hope ofany change of my resolution in this respect. ... Ishould add that I cannot allow any meeting in future,and therefore my daughter will leave town at once.Of course Lord Adolphus will feel that as aGentleman he must not think of correspondence.40

Lady Londonderry wrote back appealing to theDuke's "kind heart", telling of her son "whoseunhappiness I cannot witness without pain andanxiety", of his "intense misery", and of LadySusan's sincere attachment to him, but failing tomention that he was off his head. The Duke wasunmoved. Frustrated by inaction, the younglovers met clandestinely, and Newcastle wasroused to write another starchy letter to her

ladyship, telling darkly that "his behaviourafterwards was such as, in writing to you, Ishould not trust myself to characterise". Morethan this, "he subjected my daughter to anindignity which few girls ever had to submit tofrom a man aspiring to the position of husband".41

Whatever could he have done?Lady Susan was compelled to write a

final letter of refusal to Adolphus, hintingthat she would like to say more were she atliberty to speak her own mind. A year later,she did speak her own mind. On the dayshe came of age, 23rd April 1860, shewalked out of her father's house, and metLord Adolphus in Bryanston Square. Theywere married that day at St Mary'sChurch.42

She was given away by her brotherLord Lincoln (later 6th Duke). Her fatherwas broken-hearted, and would havenothing more to do with her. LadyLondonderry tactfully stayed away fromthe church, but gave them a weddingbreakfast at Londonderry Houseafterwards. The honeymoon took place inBrighton, where happiness lasted barely a

week. Lord Adolphus had one of hisattacks, went berserk, and frightened hiswife out of her wits. A year later he wasarrested for causing a disturbance inCoventry Street, the newspapers were fullof his "serious illness", and doctors wrotealarming letters to his brother Lord Vane.Susan, Lady Adolphus as she now was,grew desperate with fear, leading amiserable life for four years during whichshe lived on opium. Adolphus died of hislast attack in 1864. She lived on till 1875.

One of the 5th Duke's sons, Lord ArthurClinton, made himself noticed byhomosexual attachments. The Duke wasdecidedly unlucky.

He had also to live with the reputationof his extraordinary father the 4th Duke ofNewcastle (1785-1851), whose rigidconservatism marked him out as apersonality lacking the precious ingredientof equilibrium. His social attitudes and hispolitical opinions were so far beyond theextremities of right-wing Toryism that hefell out with all and sundry. The IllustratedLondon News commented upon his"unbending consistency and determined

hostility to the progress of liberalopinions".43 He refused to vote againstthe Reform Bill, of which he disapproved;he said that he did not require evidence,that he would have no such Bill, and thathe would not meddle with the discussionat all except to oppose it point-blank.44 Onanother occasion he was so obdurateagainst Lord John Russell about theappointment of magistrates in his owncounty, where he deemed he had sole rightto decisions of that nature, that Russellwas bound to get the Queen to dismisshim from his post as Lord Lieutenant ofNottinghamshire. Russell wrote bluntly :"Her Majesty has no further occasion foryour services", which bewildered theinnocent Newcastle so much that he tookthe letter to the Duke of Wellington."What shall I do?" he asked. "Do?" saidWellington. "Do nothing."40

The most celebrated row he unwittingly provokedwas occasioned by his ejecting tenants from hisproperty at Newark, without due regard for theirwelfare, it was thought. He was attacked by theMorning Chronicle, leaving him almost speechless

with incompre hension. He summoned his reason tomake the historic remark, "Is it not lawful for me to dowhat I please with my own?" upon which a stormbroke about his ears. The crowds attacked him in thestreet, besieged his residences; one of his homes,Nottingham Castle, was burnt to the ground by afurious mob, at which the Duke had to reinforce hisother properties as if in wartime. The Attorney Generalwas on record as saying that the Duke's remark was"scandalous and wicked", whereupon the still ingenuousDuke, unaware that he had said or done anythingwrong, took the matter to the House of Lords, andsought their lordships' support. He claimed that he hadbeen abused and baited by the "vulgar multitude" andthat the Attorney General had sided with his enemies.The House of Lords did not give him satisfaction. In thefirst place, they could not, since his personal popularitywas not a matter for their consideration. Secondly, theydisapproved of his attitude as much as the rest of thecountry. Thirdly, he added to his troubles by letting slipanother opinion which con firmed his isolation. He saidthat he hoped no Englishman would consent to admitanything so revolting, so debasing to the character of

the nation, as vote by ballot.46 The Lord Chancellorelected to proceed with serious business, and theembattled Duke retired in high dudgeon to nurse hisresentments.

Innocence informed the 4th Duke's arrogance, as ithad fuelled the 1st Duke's insane comings-and-goings,and the 5th Duke's hopeless dealing with the Crimeantragedy. They have not been a mischievous or evil line;they simply did not know any better. They have beenimpulsive, impetuous, reaching decisions for emotionalreasons and unable to reach them at all for rationalones.

Where have they come from, this erratic family ? Themost ancient part of their surname is Clinton, whichascends to the days of William the Conqueror. Thefamily was founded by one Renebald de Clinton, whotook his surname from the place in which he lived,Glympton in Oxfordshire. He was the ancestor of theEarls of Lincoln, created in 1572, of whom the mostillustrious member (the only illustrious member) was the1st Earl (1512—1585). He was Lord High Admiral,and is credited with the rare accomplishment of havingserved under Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary Tudor,

and Elizabeth I, and having been respected andrevered by all four. He is buried at St George'sChapel, Windsor Castle, beneath an ornate alabastermonument. The 2nd Lord Lincoln was insane, and the4th married a daughter of Lord Saye and Sele,adopting her surname of Fiennes (pronounced Fynes)in addition to his own. And so eventually we come tothe 9th Earl of Lincoln, whose name was Fiennes-Clinton, and who was subsequently, by a curiousroute, 2nd Duke of Newcastle. (The name Fienneswas dropped by his descendants.).The 1st Duke, the neurotic Prime Minister, was

created Duke of Newcastle-upon-Tyne in 1715,because his mother, Grace Holies, had been a sister ofa previous Duke of Newcastle, and he had inheritedthe Newcastle estate through her. Thus the 1st Duke ofNewcastle of this creation is Thomas Pelham (orPelham-Holles), who has nothing yet to do withFiennes-Clinton, Earl of Lincoln. The Duke had abrother, Henry Pelham (also Prime Minister), and asister, Lucy Pelham, who later married Lord Lincoln.Henry Pelham had a daughter, Catherine Pelham, butno sons, whereas Lord and Lady Lincoln (Lucy) had a

son and heir, the 9th Earl of Lincoln. The Duke,meanwhile, had no offspring at all, no one to leave hisestate to, and no one to inherit his dukedom. Thepatent of creation would not allow the dukedom to goto anyone but his son, and he had none. He woulddearly have loved to leave the title to his nephew, theEarl of Lincoln. An ingenious solution was found.In 1756 he was created Duke of Newcastle again,

with special remainder to his nephew, but as he wasalready Duke of Newcastle- upon-Tyne, he wouldhave a second dukedom, that of Newcastle- under-Lyme (or "under-Line", as the patent erroneouslystated). Hence the dukedom of Newcastle-upon-Tynewas extinct with the 1st Duke's death in 1768, whilethe dukedom of Newcastle-under- Lyme is borne tothis day by the Earls of Lincoln, descendants of the 1 stDuke's nephew. Lincoln consolidated the affair bymarrying his own cousin, Catherine Pelham; he was theson of Lucy Pelham, she the daughter of HenryPelham, and to both the 1st Duke of Newcastle wasuncle. Their descendants were henceforth known asPelham- Clinton, until the present Duke's father addedthe name Hope by Royal Licence in 1887. Of the three

surnames, only Clinton is strictly accurate, since bothPelham and Hope have been adopted as the result ofmarriage.

Now the dukedom seems bound forextinction. The 9th Duke of Newcastle hastwo daughters. His heir is a cousin,Edward Charles Pelham-Clinton, born in1920, who is Assistant Keeper of theRoyal Scottish Museum in Edinburgh, anda bachelor. In all likelihood he will succeedas 1 oth Duke, and the title will cease withhim.

The earldom of Lincoln will continue.There are dozens of Clintons descendedfrom the earls before they married into thePelham family in 1744, who are ready to layclaim to the title.

Of the Newcastle estate, nothingtangible now remains. Their principal seatwas Clumber, one of the four great housescollectively known as "The Dukeries"*near Worksop. From the beginning ofWorld War I, Clumber was rarelyinhabited. In 11929 the 8th Duke, a lonelyunconventional man, decided on a processof liquidation which would get rid of theNewcastle estate as it then stood. He

persuaded the trustees to agree, andClumber was demolished in 1938. "It wasbefore the era of 'Stately Homes'," says hisson the present Duke. "No institutionwanted it. Demolition was the onlyanswer."

As the family did not intend to live in another houseas big, it was equally evident that they would have tooff-load the contents. It took a whole year of auctionsto sell the books from the Clumber library, fetching£64,000. The other contents were disposed of in aseries of sales over the next few years. A policy of re-investment and renewal followed. The Duke died in1941. His son and successor has led a some whatnomadic life. He left England for Rhodesia in 1948,bought a farm there, and settled down for a few years.He has also bought a house in Jamaica, and a housenear Bath, both since sold. He has returned to England,having sold everything he held in Rhodesia, and nowlives quietly in Lymington. He runs one farm; the trustowns three more.

* The other three were Welbeck (Duke of Portland),Worksop (Duke of Norfolk), and Thoresby (Duke ofKingston).

The Duke is not political, and rarely social. He has

little connection with other dukes, or with the socialzigzagging of London "society". He has never takenpart in a coronation. He has no servants. "The fact thatI might one day be Newcastle was never discussed," hesays. "I never gave it a thought."

* * *

In the summer of 1889 Princess Louise, eldestdaughter of the Prince of Wales and grand-daughter ofQueen Victoria, became engaged to the Earl of Fife, anobscure Scottish laird. Her cousin, Princess May ofTeck (later Queen Mary), thought it a little odd. "Whatdo you say to Louise's engagement to Lord Fife?" shewrote to her Aunt Augusta. "We are very glad for herbecause she has liked him for some years, but for afuture Royal Princess to marry a subject seems ratherstrange don't you think so ?" Queen Victoria, who wasboth sentimental and had a keen eye for the advantagesof any proposal, was thoroughly in favour. "It is a verybrilliant marriage in a worldly point of view", she wrote,

"as he is immensely rich."47 Besides which, he washandsome and likeable. Princess Louise, an apathetic,sickly creature, much given to whining, was unlikely todo better. That Fife was not of royal blood was a mereinconvenience, which the old Queen knew well shecould remedy by the simple expedient of elevating himto the highest rank among her subjects. So, on the veryday of the marriage, 27th July 1889, Louise's husbandbecame 1st Duke of Fife, holder of the last dukedom tobe created. (He had been offered the dukedom ofInverness, but had refused.)48

The wedding was a splendid, glittering occasion. Aroyal romance was guaranteed to catch the publicimagination, but this was some thing more. ThePrincess had not gone abroad to choose some Germanprinceling whom nobody had ever heard of, but hadchosen instead a Scot, whom she loved, and the Queenhad given her blessing. It was certainly a departurefrom custom, and cause for wild enthusiasm. Thewedding took place in the private chapel atBuckingham Palace, Louise still looking very pale,according to the Queen, who also disapproved of herdress. "She was too plainly dressed", she wrote, "and

had her veil over her face, which no Princess ever hasand which I think unbecoming and not right." TheQueen was quite correct; today her rigid observance ofroyal practice is adhered to more strictly, as forexample when Princess Anne married, with her faceuncovered. The Fifes moved into a house in RichmondPark, called Sheen Lodge, where they led a very happylife, and where their two daughters were born.

The origins of the Fifes was by no means clear. Theyhad extensive land in Scotland (none of it in Fife), wereknown to be pleasant and obliging, quite harmless, andsmall in build; one of them had been known as "CreelyDuff" or "dwarf-like Duff". Duff was the family name.One theory averred descent from the Macduff Earls ofFife, one of whom is prominent in Shakespeare'sMacbeth. But the connection has never successfullybeen traced. A second version claimed that the Duffsthemselves were from a direct line dating from 1404.Unfortunately, a genealogical scholar showed that thistheory rested on falsified evidence. In the mausoleumat Duff House, Banff, lay a stone effigy, purporting tobe of the first Duff, and carrying the date 1404; thegenealogist proved that the effigy had been removed

from St Anne's Chapel in 1792, and that the inscriptionhad been tampered with after its arrival at DuffHouse.49 With the best will, one must conclude that theorigin of the Fifes is mysterious. They have alwaysbeen ardent Scots, which alone would endear them toQueen Victoria; one of them had earth and gravelbrought down from Scotland to fill the garden andpaths of Fife House in Whitehall, on the Thames, sothat he would only need to tread on Scottish soil.50

Less than two years after their marriage, H.R.H.Princess Louise, Duchess of Fife, and the Duke ofFife, were presented with a sudden crisis of successionwhich promised to engulf them both. The heirpresumptive to the throne of England, Prince Eddy,Duke of Clarence, caught influenza and pneumonia,and within a few days lay dead. At his bedside on 14thJanuary 1891 were his mother, the Princess of Wales(soon to be Queen Alexandra), holding his hand forhours on end, his brother Prince George, and his sisterand brother-in-law, the Fifes. The tragedy resided notonly in the premature death of a handsome and popularprince, but in the doubt which his death cast upon thefuture. For the heir to the throne, after the Prince of

Wales, was Prince George, unmarried and poor inhealth. Next in line was his sister Louise. His life andhis alone separated the throne from the Duchess ofFife, who, highly strung and mouse-like, wouldscarcely make an ideal Queen. All efforts were nowconcentrated on getting Prince George married andwith a family.In the forefront of these endeavours were the Fifes,

desperate to avoid the throne. They encouraged PrinceGeorge to pursue his dead brother's fiancee, theestimable and ideal Princess May of Teck. Their houseat Richmond was especially well suited as arendezvous, quiet secluded, but very near London.Here the young couple met regularly, prodded by theanxious Fifes. One day the Duchess said to herbrother, "Now, Georgie, don't you think you ought totake May into the garden to look at the frogs in thepond?" Beside the pond the future George V proposedto the future Queen Mary and was accepted. Maynoted in her diary that the Fifes were "delighted".

In the meantime, something had to be done about theFifes' own future. They had two daughters, and wereunlikely to have more children, which meant that the

dukedom would be extinct after only one generation.There was one solution. The dukedom would have tobe created again, with special remainder allowing thetitle to descend through the female line. The Queenobliged, and in 1900 the Duke of Fife became duke asecond time; it is this title which is borne by hisdescendant, the previous dukedom and all other earliertitles being extinct with his death in 1912.In 1905, soonafter her father became King, the Duchess was namedPrincess Royal, which entitled her daughters to carrythe style of "Her Highness". They were not a family tobe constantly in the public eye, although on oneoccasion there was no avoiding an avalanche ofpublicity. In December 1911 the family embarked onthe P. & O. steamship Delhi, bound for Bombay. TheFifes were due to disembark in Egypt, whence theywere repairing for the Duchess's health, always toofragile to withstand an English winter. On the night of13th December a furious storm broke. Black cloudspoured down torrents of rain, gales whipped upmountainous waves, and at 2 a.m. the ship began to gounder. They were some miles off Cape Spartel, on thecoast of Morocco. Signals soon brought other ships to

the rescue, but the sea was too turbulent to attempttransferring passengers from one ship to another. Theonly hope was to get them into small craft and make asbest one could for the shore. The Princess Royal andher husband refused to leave the Delhi until otherwomen and children had been taken off, by which timethe ship was filling fast. They had literally to be droppedfrom a height and caught in the small boats, wearingonly nightclothes, as there had been no time to retrievepersonal belongings. Their little boat was swamped bywaves, in spite of frantic baling, obliging them to rely onlifebelts. Princess Alix disappeared under the water fora while. Louise tells the story herself in a letter to herbrother King George. "We got on alright but waveswere huge, they swept down on us and filled the boat,we baled, but not any good, water came up to ourknees and she sank! flinging us all out! We floated inour belts - waves like iron walls tore over us, knockedus under, Admiral Cradock gripped my shoulder andsaved me! - Thank God my Macduff and children bothon beach but had been under too, it was an awfulmoment, our clothes so heavy, and we were breathlessand shivery ... It is an extraordinary nightmare, and we

are indeed grateful to be all here and alive still."52

Once on shore the Fife family walked to thelighthouse, where they were given coffee and whateverassortment of clothing could be found. The PrincessRoyal sent a telegram : "S.S. Delhi to QueenAlexandra, London. All safe. Louise." They thenmounted on mules and, still shivering and drenched,trod their way painfully across rugged country toTangier. The journey took three hours.03

The Fifes continued afterwards to Egypt to resumetheir holiday, but tragedy struck belatedly when theDuke contracted pleurisy and pneumonia, as a result ofwhich he died, on 29th January 1912. His daughtermaintained that the illness had nothing to do with theship wreck, but medical opinion was not quick toagree with her.

In accordance with the terms of the fresh patent of1900, the Duke was succeeded by his elder daughteras Duchess of Fife.* She married Prince Arthur ofConnaught, which had the effect of submerging the Fifedukedom in her other, royal, honours; she was knownto the world as H.R.H. Princess Arthur of Connaught.She was the first member of the Royal Family to be

matron of a nursing-home, before which she hadworked incognito as a nurse and a sister at bothUniversity College Hospital and Queen Charlotte'sHospital. Her one son predeceased her, thus spellingthe end of the Connaught title, while the Fife dukedompassed on her death in 1959 to the son of her sister,Princess Maud, then Lord Carnegie, now the 3rdDuke of Fife.

The Duke, born in 1929, chairman of the AmateurBoxing Association, was pursued by newspapers in histwenties as one of the most likely husbands for PrincessMargaret, whom he had known since childhood.(Another was Lord Dalkeith, now Duke of Buccleuch.)He, however, spent more time with a ballet dancercalled Mary Drage, whose Catholic religion preventedany permanent alliance. As a descendant of George IIhe was subject to the Royal Marriages Act, whichrequires the Sovereign's consent to any engagement. In1956 he married the Hon. Caroline Dewar, daughter ofLord Forteviot, who owned the Dewar Scotch whiskyfirm. Ten years later they were divorced, on grounds ofher adultery. There are two children of the marriage, aboy and a girl. The son, Lord Macduff, born in 1961,

is the solitary heir to this last of the dukedoms. Hemarried in 1987.*Only two other women have inherited a dukedom -the Duchess of Marl borough in 1722, and the Duchessof Hamilton in 1651.

references

1 . Devonshire Collections, 28. 102.2. Hist. MSS. Comm., Rutland MSS, Vol. II, pp.168-75.3. Nicholas Pevsner, Derbyshire, p. 141.4. Duchess of Rutland, Haddon Hall (pamphlet,1890), p. 18.5. Letters and Papers Henry VIII, Vol. IV, Part iii,p. 2929.6. Greville, IV, 9.7. Benjamin Disraeli, Coningsby, Book IX, Ch. 1.8. D.N.B.9. Wraxall, Posthumous Memoirs, Vol. II, p. 365.10. William Pitt, Correspondence, Vol. Ill, p. 477.11 . Wraxall, Historical Memoirs, p. 367.

12. ibid., p. 543.13. London Chronicle, 24th October 1787.14. Wraxall, Hist. Mem., 370.15. Town and Country, Vol. II, p. 401 (1770).16. Chips Channon, Diaries, p. 142.17. Greville, III, 1.18. Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life, p. 252.19. Clark E. Bleibtreu, Der Wahre Shakespeare(Munich, 1907).20. Cal.S.P.Dom., 1611-18, p. 143.21. Eller, pp. 62-6.22. Walpole, Memoirs of the Reign of George II,Vol. II, p. 2.23. Letters of Queen Victoria, quoted in CompletePeerage.24. Moneypenny, Life of Disraeli, Vol. II, p. 163.25. The Stanleys of Alderley, ed. Nancy Mitford.26. Greville, VII, 94.27. Lord Hervey and His Friends, p. 171.28. ibid., p. ,140.29. Walpole, XXII, p. 102.30. R. A. Kelch, Newcastle: A Duke withoutMoney.

31. L. B. Namier, England in the Age of theAmerican Revolution.32. Kelch, op. cit., pp. 183-4.33. Walpole, XVII, 210.34. Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, Works (1822),Vol. II, p. 33.35. Walpole, XVIII, 167.36. Sanford and Townsend, Great GoverningFamilies of England,

Vol. I, p. 211.37. Lady Paget, quoted in Complete Peerage.38. Sunday Express, 15th December 1957.

39. Daily Sketch, 14th March 1970.

40. Londonderry Papers, D/Lo/C 234,Duke of Newcastle to Lady

Londonderry, 13th July 1858.41. ibid.., 8th September 1858.

42. Edith Marchioness of Londonderry,Frances Anne, pp. 291-4.

43. Illustrated London News, 18thJanuary 1851, p. 37.

44. Greville, III, 231.

45. Greville, IV, 156.

46. Hansard, House of Lords, 3rdDecember 1830.

47. James Pope-Hennessey, Queen Mary,pp. 180-1.

48. Annual Register, 1889.49. Genealogist Magazine, 1886.

50. Old and New London, Vol. Ill, p. 335.

51. Pope-Hennessey, op. cit., pp. 259-60.

52. ibid., pp. 462-3.

The Times, 14th December 1911.

1 3 . The Legacy of Mary Davies

Duke of Westminster

It is commonly supposed that Queen Victoria feltobliged to make Hugh Lupus Grosvenor a duke in1874, because he was more wealthy than she was.With an income exceeding a £¼ million a year and themost desirable piece of real estate in London,extending over Belgravia and Mayfair, wealth was, forbetter or worse, the singular most noticeable thingabout him. Granville was the first to suggest theelevation. "Has it ever crossed you to make yourCheshire neigh bour a Duke?" he wrote to Gladstoneon 8th February 1874. "Your suggestion aboutWestminster has often crossed my mind," Gladstonereplied, "and I have every disposition to recommendit."1 Accord ingly, he took the opportunity to includeGrosvenor's name on the list for dissolution honours

occasioned by his resignation. On 17th February hewrote: "My dear Westminster [he was then Marquessof Westminster], I have received authority from theQueen to place a Dukedom at your disposal and Ihope you may accept it, for both you and LadyWestminster will wear it right nobly. With my dyingbreath, Yours sincerely, W. E. Gladstone." TheMarquess replied next day with his acceptance, addinga postscript: "May I venture to say that if we have anyoption in the matter we should like to retain the title of'Westminster' and that of 'Earl Grosvenor' for the eldestson as at present."2

Barely 100 years old, the dukedom ofWestminster is therefore a fledgling title;only that of Fife is more recent.Paradoxically, how ever, the family ofGrosvenor in whom it is vested hasancestry stretching back in unbroken maleline to the time of the Conqueror, with anauthenticity that many a longer-established ducal house might envy.Gilbert le Gros Veneur, Chief Huntsman toWilliam the Conqueror and nephew toHugh Lupus, William's nephew, gave thefamily its surname. In 1160 Robert leGrosvenor received a grant of land from

the Earl of Chester at Budworth, Co.Chester, where the family settled and hasremained ever since. Familiar names intheir early history presage a future whichthey could not have suspected; Sir RobertGrosvenor, who died in 1396, married thewidow of one Thomas Belgrave, and in1450 Raufe Grosvenor married the heiressJoan Eton (or Eaton) of Eaton, Co.Chester. By the late seventeenth centurythe Grosvenors were a family of greatantiquity and con siderable, though notostentatious, fortune. They lacked oneadvantage - a London base. Their propertywas entirely provincial and they were notwell-placed or well-known in the south. Asuitable remedy was found in the marriageof Sir Thomas Grosvenor, 3rd Baronet,Member of Parliament for Chester andMayor of Chester, with the twelve-year-old heiress Mary Davies, of Ebury,Middlesex, whose marriage portionincluded the manor of Ebury, comfortablyclose to London. The Ebury property wasnot particularly remarkable, being largelyswamp and lagoon in the south, and poorpasture in the north. Indeed, it was MaryDavies who gained most by the marriage,since the Grosvenors were then far the

richer family of the two. And they wereshrewd. Sir Thomas knew that the Eburylands, unexciting as they were, were well-situated and would be ripe fordevelopment one day. The date of themarriage was 8th October 1677. The Eburyproperty is now Belgravia and Mayfair,and it still belongs to Sir Thomas'sdescendants.

Ebury was bounded in the south by the river Thames,in the north by the Roman road from London to Bath(now Oxford Street and Bayswater Road), in the eastby the Tybourne, and in the west by a stream called theWestbourne. In all, it covered 1090 acres, formerlybelonging to the Abbey of Westminster, confiscatedand redistributed in the time of Henry VIII. The Kingtook what he thought was the best part of it for himself,in 1540, enclosed it and stocked it with deer; this isnow Hyde Park. The southern part, sometimessub merged at high tide, with islands rising above thehighwater mark (the isle of Chesil — Chels-ea; the isleof Bermond = Bermond's-ea; Battersea was another),is now Pimlico and Belgravia. Between 1300 and 1700the land underwent practically no change at all, being

too clayey and waterlogged to permit building. Asrecently as the begin ning of the nineteenth century, itwas still meadow, an open and rural spot known as"Five Fields" and infested with robbers and footpads(highwaymen). All that had happened in 400 years wasthat the property had changed hands by purchase, giftand inheritance.

In 1626 the land was sold to Hugh Awdeley, orAudley (1577- 1662) for £9400. Audley had areputation for usury and double- dealing, which modernresearch has gone some way to redress. He was"careful, capable, covetous, but not corrupt".8 Certain itis that he knew how to make money, having increasedhis own capital some 2000 per cent in his lifetime. Helived so long that he became a legendary figure, pointedat in public; he also succumbed to the whims of oldage, changing his will and settlements several times ayear. By the terms of the last settlement, dated 1stNovember 1662, he bequeathed his Middlesexproperty to his business clerk and nephew, AlexanderDavies, and his brother Thomas Davies. Audley diedthat year, and Alexander bought out his brother'sportion of the estate, leaving the whole, some 430

acres, to his infant daughter Mary, who married SirThomas Grosvenor. Alexander may have had plans forthe land. He was, after all, an ambitious and cleveryoung man, with ideas of his own. But the plague struckhim down at the age of thirty, in July 1665, when littleMary was but five months old (she was bom on 17thJanuary 1665).

As visible proof that she was an heiressto be taken seriously, Mary was able toride out in her own private coach, drawnby six horses, when she was still a child,and roughly contemporary with that otherchild heiress, Lady Elizabeth Percy, thelast of the Percys, who took her estate intothe Seymour family, whence some of itpassed to the Smithsons. Little MaryDavies had nothing to compare with suchan inheritance. There were problems fromthe beginning. The estate of AlexanderDavies, her father, was weighed down indebt. An Act of Parliament was passed in1675 to enable some of the estate to besold on Mary's behalf to settle thesedebts. The part chosen for selling wasGoring House and its grounds. This wentto the Earl of Arlington, who left it to hisdaughter, the Duchess of Grafton, who

sold it to the Duke of Buckingham, whodemolished it and built a new house on thesite in 1702, calling it Buckingham House,and then sold it to George III. It is nowBuckingham Palace and has been Crownproperty ever since. In the grounds of thepalace is a mulberry tree whichtraditionally dates from the time when thisland belonged to Mary Davies.4

Mary was known as the "Maid of Ebury" becauseshe was a mere twelve years old when she married SirThomas Grosvenor at St Clement Dane's, hergrandfather the Reverend Richard Dukeson officiating.From this nickname has sprung the erroneous story thatGrosvenor married a milkmaid. She bore Sir Thomasfive sons and three daughters, before she showed thefirst signs of losing her sanity. He died in 1700, at theage of forty-four, unable to make adequate provisionfor her protec tion in time. After her husband's death,Mary Davies nearly lost the entire Ebury property to anunscrupulous pair of brothers called Fenwick, who, hadthey succeeded, would have cast the Grosvenorsforever into obscurity. One Lodowick Fenwick, aJesuit priest, took advantage of her fragility of mind to

gain control of her movements and her decisions. Shehad become absurdly religious and quite unpredictablycrazy, locking people in cupboards and wearingfeathers on her sleeves to help her fly. In this condition,she became a virtual prisoner of Fenwick when theywent to the continent. The priest's brother, EdwardFenwick, later claimed that he had married Mary inFrance, and that consequently he was the legal ownerof her property. He gave notice to all the Grosvenortenants that rents should henceforth be paid to him.Mary's cause was taken up by her guardian, CharlesGholmondeley, and the resulting trial was a constantsource of interest in the capital. Mary's defence restedon six points:

(1) that she had been disturbed in her mind since1696

(2) that Father Fenwick had acquired completemastery over her,

on occasion by force(3) that he sent home from France all her personal

staff, andreplaced them with his own relatives or

appointees(4) that she had been weakened by drugs and

bleeding(5) that she had no knowledge of any marriage with

EdwardFenwick

(6) that if such a ceremony had taken place, itwould be null and

void in the eyes of the law

Amongst the body of evidence given as to her beingdrugged, there was testimony that opium had beenplaced in her poached eggs, and that she would throwhysterical scenes, hurling food at Fenwick andscreaming that she was being poisoned.

In spite of all this, and allowing for the fact that theFenwicks were unprincipled rogues, the jury of theQueen's Bench found that the marriage, though forced,was valid, and they declared in favour of Fenwick.

If we do not now refer to the Fenwick estates inBelgravia and Mayfair, it is because the matter wassubsequently placed before the Court of Delegates ofSergeants Inn, who overturned the verdict. They found

in favour of Lady Grosvenor, on the grounds that shewas not compos mentis at the time of the allegedmarriage, and imposed silence on Edward Fenwick forever more. The Grosvenors were secure.5Mary liveduntil 1730, a complete lunatic for the last few years.Exactly one year later her grandson was born, RichardGrosvenor, the first in the family to be raised to thepeerage, on the recommendation of Pitt, as EarlGrosvenor (1731-1802). He and his descendantscontinued to add to the family property buying themanor of Eccleston and the hamlet of Belgrave, and tomaintain their close connec tions with Chester, asmayors and Members of Parliament. His son, RobertGrosvenor (1767-1845), turned his attentions to thedreary tract of land inherited from Mary Davies, anarea still unprepossess ing, where clothes were hungout, bulls were baited, and dog-fights encouraged.Then, nearby Buckingham House was rebuilt as a royalpalace in 1825, and Grosvenor saw his chance. Toinvestigate what could be done to develop the site, heemployed Thomas Cubitt who discovered that beneaththe soggy clay was a stratum of gravel of some depth,which would support building. Grosvenor obtained an

Act of Parliament in 1826 to permit him to drain theland and remove the topsoil of clay, which was burnedinto bricks, and Cubitt planned his elegant suburb to bebuilt on the substratum of gravel. Five years later,"Belgravia" came into existence, while beneath itshandsome exterior at high water in spring tides, theRiver Thames still flowed only a few feet below.Grosvenor was advanced one step further in thepeerage as Marquess of Westminster.

The wealth of the Grosvenors was now approachingvast propor tions. Grosvenor's son had married LadyElizabeth Leveson-Gower in 1819; a dynastic mergingwithout precedent, for the bride was the daughter of theDuke of Sutherland and the Duchess-Countess ofSutherland, reputed to be the richest couple in Europe.(Lady Elizabeth, by the way, lived to the age of ninety-four, almost elbow ing her way into the twentiethcentury.) It was their son, Hugh Lupus Grosvenor(1825-1899), who was made 1st Duke ofWest minster in 1874, having become so rich that hecould not be ignored. He consolidated his status bymarrying his daughter Mar garet to Prince Adolphus ofTeck, the future Queen Mary's brother. Queen

Victoria, with her keen eye for a bargain, wrote, "It is avy good connection - ... & she will doubtless be welloff.'"

The Duke further consolidated his wealth, by takingas his first wife his own cousin, a daughter of the 2ndDuke of Sutherland. His second wife, CatherineCavendish, lived until 1941. We are brought closer tothe modern age by the 2nd Duke, his grandson, wholived from 1879 to 1953, and was always known as"Bend Or". He presided over the diversification of theGrosvenor estates and its growth into an internationalbusiness, with interests on four conti nents, superblywell managed, and large enough to compete with manya public corporation. "Bend Or" used to send back hisshirts and linen from all over the world to his privatelaundry at Eaton Hall.7 The Duke's hydra-headedbusiness was still a private family concern, the variouscompanies subordinate, in the end, to the efficientrunning of his personal estate.

Of course, the jewel in the crown is those 300 acresin London, 100 in Mayfair, and 200 in Belgravia. Thiswas all Bend Or's per sonal property, with which hecould do as he pleased. One other man was involved in

policy decisions, the agent, Mr George Ridley. It was anineteenth-century system operating in the middle of thetwentieth, but it worked because Ridley's vision andsound good sense inspired it. He had been with thefamily virtually all his life, his only qualifications for hishuge responsibilities being those of experience andloyalty. Under Ridley's guidance, the Duke turned hisattention to the Reay estate in the extreme north-westof Scot land. This, which had been adjacent to theSutherland property and had been absorbed by theDuke of Sutherland, was bought from him by the Dukeof Westminster in 1870 (at the same time as he boughtCliveden from the same man). Since then, theGrosvenors had kept the estate together, supported itand maintained it, but done little to change theprospects of the 100,000 acres. Consequently, thearea was gradually being deserted by its inhabitants,searching farther afield for fruitful employment andabandoning their unproductive land.

Ridley and the Duke determined to arrest thisprocess. They undertook to plant 2500 acres with pine,spruce and larch, to buy the redundant sea-fishingbusiness at Kinlochbervie, re-develop the harbour and

establish a transport system which would enable fishlanded one evening to be marketed the followingmorning. All this was in 1951. Almost immediately, thescheme proved a glorious success. By 1965, the fishlanded on the Reay estate was the most highly valued,and the quantity made this once abandoned port thesecond busiest in Scotland. The area has becomehappy and pros perous, and is continually growing. Awhole subdivision of the Grosvenor estates is employedin its management. A school was built, and given to thelocal council for a symbolic rental. The capitalexpenditure involved in this development has beenenormous, and the return, or "profit", non-existent. Ithas been a perfect example of the nineteenth-centuryethic which governed some, if not all, ducal estates,according to which the duke in residence has a deep-rooted obligation, by virtue of his birth, towards peoplewho live on land which he owns, and a responsibility touse his wealth for their benefit as much as for his own.

This is not the place to list all the multifariousinterests of the Grosvenor estates, but a few instancesserve to illustrate why they have been so successful. Acombination of wisdom and adventure has informed

their actions.After World War II, the Eaton Square property

could no longer support large family houses; nobodywas left who could afford them. The Grosvenor estatesundertook, at vast expense, to convert the whole areainto flats (there was, of course, profit in this scheme).The centre of Chester has been developed as amodern shopping area. Annacis Island, in the Fraserriver in Canada, was bought in 1950, and a hugescheme of conversion into an industrial estateundertaken. Millions of tons of sand had to be dredgedfrom the river and piled on to the 1700-acre island, toraise it above the level of flood risk. Eventually, overforty factories were established on the island, providingemployment for thousands. This project wasdeveloped in partnership with John Laing & Son.The Grosvenor Estates is no longer run personally bythe Duke of Westminster, though it is still a settledestate, and his word is still ultimately law. There is nowa board of trustees, under J. N. C. James, who trainedwith the Grosvenor branch in Canada, and an advisorypanel of bankers and outside businessmen. They hopeto avoid mistakes of the past. There was no real need

for Grosvenor House to be pulled down in 1924 andreplaced by an hotel; it was a beautiful house andshould have been preserved. Similarly, finan cialmotives alone permitted the southern face of GrosvenorSquare to be demolished and replaced with a pseudo-Georgian facade behind which hides the BritanniaHotel. Other sales have been more mysterious. It is notclear why the Pimlico estate was sold in its entirety in1950, nor why half the Eaton Hall estate in Ghesirewent in 1919; the family could certainly have affordedto keep them. It can only have been to release fundswhich could be used elsewhere. The revenue from thePimlico sale was doubtless used to develop the Reayestate; Douglas Sutherland has said: "It is hard toimagine any modern bricks and mortar tycoon spendingsurplus profits or investing capital in the way that theGrosvenor Estates have in the north of Scotland, withno thought of ultimate gain." Nor can one imagine oneof our tycoons giving land to Westminster City Counciland Westminster Housing Association, as the 2ndDuke did, so that workpeople could be housed atreasonable rents near to their place of work. During theagricultural depression of thethirties, he handed back to

his tenants fifty per cent of their rents.8It is surprising that such a Well-known family should

be so secretive, and that they should have managed sowell to retain their privacy. Little of any detail is knownabout the dukes of Westminster. Bend Or is perhapsthe most familiar, as his reputation for womanising kepthim in the public eye, and led him four times to themarriage register. His name, incidentally, derivesinitially from his grand father's horse Bend Or, whowon the Derby in the year in which the 2nd Duke wasborn - 1879. To discover why the racehorse had sucha curious name, one must go beyond 1879 by nearly500 years. Between 1386 and 1390 there was a bitterdispute between Sir Robert Grosvenor and SirRichard Scrope as to which of the two families had theright to bear arms "azure, a bend or". Grosvenor hadborne such arms since the time of Hugh Lupus, butScrope challenged the right, and eventually won theday, with a decision of the King's in his favour.Grosvenor thereupon changed his arms to "azure, agarb or", which his descendant the Duke ofWestminster keeps to this day, although the original"bend or" arms have not been forgotten; hence the

Derby winner and the 2nd Duke's nickname.According to a recent account Bend Or was

trapped into his first marriage with ConstanceCornwallis-West in 1901 by the mischievous characterof the Prince of Wales, who told him that he could notavoid the honourable course of marriage, as he hadbeen spied alone with the lady in the garden.9 Theywere divorced in 1919. The fol lowing year he marriedViolet Nelson, divorcing her in 1926, and the Hon.Loelia Ponsonby in 1930. Of this marriage we havesome record. They were divorced in 1947, when theDuke took his last bride, Anne Sullivan.

The picture of Bend Or's private character, asportrayed by his third wife, is not particularlyendearing, but it rings true, as it accords with what littleinformation we have as the character of his ancestors.Loelia Ponsonby was the grand-daughter of Grey,Queen Victoria's Private Secretary for the last twenty-five years of her life. Conse quently, she had beenbrought up in a grace and favour apartment in StJames's Palace, heavily protected by governesses andhardly allowed to be seen until she "came out". Shehad no preparation whatever for marriage to a difficult

man like Bend Or.He proposed in flamboyant fashion, indicating

nonetheless a secret shyness. He sent Loelia a letterwith a message to expect a present by special courier,and asking her to reply by the same courier. Thepresent was a sapphire engagement ring. Thereafter hewas constantly placing diamond necklaces under herpillow, in her handbag, by her breakfast plate. Onlylater did she realise that these gifts were as nothingwhen proffered by a man with "a most treacherousnature, filled with jealousy to a quite impossibledegree". His jealousy hinged upon a terrible fear thatLoelia would enjoy herself more with almost anyoneelse than with him; she was to him like a possession.He even told her that she must stop seeing her ownmother, and must choose between them. He had beenused to having his own way, selfishness had becomethe rule of his life. Accordingly, he would change plans,obey whims and fancies, with no one else to considerbut himself. He was not prepared to amend thesehabits for his wife. On the other hand, he appears tohave been surrounded by the most miserable kind ofsycophants, who were thrilled to be near a man with

so much money, and would never gainsay him. "Heonly liked what he called 'genuine people', and his onlycriterion for selecting these people seemed to be thatthey were complete nonentities."10 The Duke tooktheir side against his wife on many occasions,permitting them to treat her as an interloper in themarital home. Such a situation could not long continue.The 12th Duke of Bedford, Hastings the Pacifist, wassimilarly governed by selfishness and subservience toflattery, and his marriage suffered in like fashion.

The day that he died, Chips Channon wrote: "SoBend Or the great Duke of Westminster is dead at last;magnificent, courteous, a mixture of Henry VIII andLorenzo il Magnifico, he lived for pleasure - andwomen - for seventy-four years. His wealth wasincal culable; his charm overwhelming; but he wasrestless, spoilt, irritable, and rather splendid in a veryEnglish way. He was fair, handsome, lavish; yet his lifewas an empty failure; he did few kindnesses, leaves nomonument."11

His life was not a failure if you countthe achievements of the estate, but it wasif you consider that he found it

impossible to know anyone or haveanyone know him in any really intimateway. If he did few kindnesses, it wasbecause he didn't know how to; hehadn't the knack. Just as the Churchillsand the Russells have been strangers toeach other from one generation to thenext, have made no effort to understandeach other, with the result that they havebeen imprisoned and scared, locked up intheir own personality. A different view isgiven by the Duke of Manchester, whofound Bend Or "one of the mostgenerous, kind-hearted fellows in theworld . . . he has been a disappointedman".12 But Manchester had not theequipment to understand him properly -he was obeying an instinct forsolidarity.The 1st Duke, Bend Or'sgrandfather, was uncommunicative inprecisely the same way. His own motherdescribed him as "pinched and dry", or"Mr Poker", and one entry in her diarytells us that he was "more amiable thanusual which does not mean much".lv Hissons found him awesome, stern anddistant, and of them he had no goodopinion. He thought them a bunch ofweak dissipated charac ters, unworthy of

the name they carried, and he did not tryto know them better. If we go back afurther generation, we find that the 1stDuke was, in his turn, harshly criticisedand rebuked throughout his boyhoodand youth by his father, the 2ndMarquess of Westminster, who held himin no great esteem or affection.14 TheMarquess suffered from precisely thesame hereditary problems of beingclosed and cold, a perpetual solitarymystery, priggish and unapproachable,and totally humourless. His wife wrote toher mother, "I sometimes tell him he isnot demonstrative enough and nobodywould know if he is pleased or not."15

Another thread of personality which runs throughoutthe Grosvenor family is a passionate obsession withhorses and horse-racing. The 1st Earl Grosvenor couldnot even spare the time to receive his title, so devotedwas he to the turf: "yesterday when he should havekissed hands, he was gone to Newmarket to see thetrial of a race horse".16 He seems to have spent far toomuch time, and money by the turf altogether; his debtsamounted to £180,000, which his heirs had to settle,17

bearing in mind perhaps that it was worth it, for he hadbeen the greatest breeder of racing-stock in his day.Racehorses were a passion to every subsequentgeneration, and the 1st Duke was the proud owner offour Derby winners.

It should not be forgotten, also, that they haveuniformly been courageous, if a trifle unconventional, inwartime. Bend Or was mentioned in despatches in theGreat War, and received the Legion d'Honneur andthe D.S.O. for bravery.

When he died in 1953, the Grosvenor Estateswere faced with an unprecedented bill for deathduties, amounting to £20 million and requiring awhole sub-department of the Inland Revenue tobe established to deal with it. As the 3rd Duke,Bend Or's cousin, was a permanent invalidunable to deal with the matter, all decisions weretaken by George Ridley and the Trustees,including the plan to launch into a world-wideexpansion which was so successful that it morethan recovered the £20 million lost to theExchequer. The 2nd Duke made provision beforehis death that no such disaster should occur again

on such an extravagant scale. His two successorsin the title were both elderly men, both childless,and both likely to bring upon the estate furtherintolerable tax bills in quick succession.Even theresilient Grosvenor Estate could not easily havesurvived three such debts. The terms of BendOr's will divided the family assets into a twenty-part trust fund, limiting as far as possible theamount of wealth which could be assigned to anyone member of the family. The arrangementwhereby the Duke was in sole posses sion of allassets, and had a personal income of £1 aminute, no longer applies, although the presentDuke did very well out of the scheme; he hadthree parts of the trust by the terms of the will, towhich another three parts were added on thedeath of the 3rd Duke, and a fur ther three whenthe 4th Duke died. When only the heir, he ownednine- twentieths of the Grosvenor family assets,which in 1975 amounted to something over £70million.

The 5th Duke of Westminster (born1910) succeeded his brother in 1967. He

was born plain Mr Grosvenor, the juniormember of a junior branch of the family,thrust into prominence by the barren nessof his predecessors. While still acommoner, he pursued a political careerwith some assiduity, as M.P. forFermanagh and South Tyrone from 1955 to1964, and then as Senator for NorthernIreland, which he had long consideredhome; his mother was born in Ireland. Fortwo years he was Parliamentary PrivateSecretary to the Secretary of State forForeign Affairs, Selwyn Lloyd; was aFreeman of the City of London and theCity of Chester, and a frequent spokesmanon Northern Ireland affairs, where he was acautious sup porter of reform, but bydegrees and within the United Kingdom."In this country you have to hurry veryslowly," he once said.18

The 5th Duke, generally known as"Pud", undertook a funda mentalreorganisation of the estate managementalmost as soon as he inherited. The cosysystem of ducal head and chief agent,assisted by family trustees, could nolonger cope with an empire of such size.He established a committee of four

executive managers, each the head of hisown department, and with his own staff.One was responsible for the Londonestate alone, another for the agriculturaland forestry estates, a third wasconcerned with urban developments, anda fourth with various offshoot companies.Some superfluous properties were sold,such as the Bridgwater estate inShropshire, bought in 1950 and sold for £2million in 1972. A smaller concrete housewas built at Eaton, with a sensible numberof bedrooms. The Duke kept his house inIreland, and naturally used a flat in hisown Eaton Square when in London.In 1946Pud married the Hon. Viola Lyttelton,daughter of Lord Cobham and aCavendish. They had two daughters, oneof whom, Leonora, married thephotographer Earl of Lichfield in 1975, andthe other married the Duke of Roxburghein 1977. Their son is the present Duke,born in 1951. On this young man alonerests the future of the coronet, for he is thelast male descendant of the 1st Duke.Although the 1st Duke had seven sons byhis first wife, and two more by his second,the heirs male of the body have dwindledby a series of misfortunes to one. The 1st

Duke's heir, who was passionately fond ofengineering (like the Duke of Richmond)and was often to be found in the railwayworkshops at Crewe, died at the age ofthirty. He was an epileptic. Bend Or washis son, and Bend Or's son and heir died atthe age of five in 1909. The title then sweptover to a mysterious man, son of the 1stDuke's third son, whose history is keptvery much secret. The 3rd Duke isvariously described as "an invalid",19 oras a man who "lived in retirement".20 TheTimes obituary-covers only three lines,less than has generally been accordedeven to a footballer. Elsewhere he earns areference as "a solitary old man who usedto breed heavy-laying ducks".12

The fact is, the Duke was mad. He was hidden awayin a small house with garage in Dittons Road, Polegate,in the rural district of Hailsham, near Eastbourne, wherehe led his anonymous and inoffen sive life, while thegreat empire of which he was the titular headpro ceeded independently in London. He did notmarry.

The 4th Duke married, but had no heir. He was

badly wounded in World War II, and never fullyrecovered from his injuries. It behoves the 6th Duke,then, to save the title from extinction, although whatevermay happen to the title, the name and fame ofGrosvenor are assured of survival. Somehow it hasalways been under stood that the name of Grosvenor isthe important element, and that the title of Westminsteris a mere appendage. This is not true of any otherdukedom, where the title is always known at theexpense of the surname.

A walk through the streets of central London tells theentire story of this chapter in microcosm. For in EburyStreet, and South Audley Street, and Davies Street,and in the grandiose beauty of Grosvenor, Belgrave,and Eaton Squares, is written the foresight of an astutefamily.

Legislation of the last quarter of the twentieth centurythreatened to erase the achievements of the Grosvenorfamily. By the terms of the Leasehold Reform Act of1967, and the Housing Acts of 1969 and 1974,leaseholders were enabled to buy the freehold of theirhouses against the wishes of their landlords, providingthe rateable value did not exceed £1500 in London or

£750 elsewhere. This posed a serious problem for theGrosvenor Estate, for it meant that many of theBelgravia and Mayfair properties became immediatelyliable for enfranchisement in this way. Horrid visions ofbeautiful Regency houses being painted red or black orpurple, having their original windows removed andreplaced by modern designs, or being substantiallyaltered, presented themselves, with the Grosvenors,who had conceived and maintained Belgravia in itspurity, powerless to object. The Estate did not acceptthe inevitability of such a prospect. After protractednegotiations, they succeeded in having incorporatedinto the Act a Section (19) which allows for thelandlord to retain the right to continue a managementpolicy for the whole estate, while in no way interferingwith the leaseholder's right to buy the property. Alandlord with an enlightened and cohesive managementpolicy may apply to the Minister of Housing for acertificate to retain management powers. In the case ofBelgravia, the High Court approved the granting ofsuch a certificate in 1973. This means that the Estatereserves control over structural altera tions, ensuresthat the architectural scale and design are maintained

and requires all inhabitants, whether tenants or not, tocarry out external painting every three years in theapproved colour. It also controls the use of properties.Thus we are not, after all, the last generation to see thebeauty of Belgravia; the foresight of the GrosvenorEstate ensures that it will be preserved.

[13]

The Duke of Westminster, though theyoungest but one of the twenty-six dukesalive now, is in many ways the mostserious and im pressive. Totally unlikeBend Or, who was a bon viveur above allelse, he is actively concerned with therunning of the Grosvenor Estates, wherehe is Chairman of the Board of Trusteesand works full-time. Besides this, he isconnected with no less than one hundredand thirty- nine other organisations whichclaim his attention, though he prefers toavoid public duties which are purelyceremonial. The Duke sits on the House ofLords European committee for rural policy,but does not take his seat in the chamber.A committed advocate of the democraticprinciple, he believes the second chambershould be made more effective by beingcomposed of elected representatives

whose opinions should be heeded, ratherthan tolerated. Nor is he a man to shoulderhis huge responsibilities simply becausethey have been inherited; he embracesthem with relish and energy. Naturally, hewas trained in all aspects of the GrosvenorEstates from an early age, but his fatherwisely gave

* The author is indebted to J. Lindgren of the Grosvenor Office forinformation in this paragraph.

him a year off to do as he wished, during which

time he was, amongst other things, a cowboy inCanada; he was not, in consequence, tempted to feelhimself trapped or burdened by his fate.The Duke is married to Natalia Ayesha Phillips('Tally'), grand daughter of Sir Harold Wernher. Hersister, Alexandra Anastasia ('Sasha') is Duchess ofAbercorn. The Duke of Westminster is not only theDuke of Abercorn's brother-in-law, but his godsonand second cousin as well.

REFERENCES

1 . Complete Peerage.2. Gervas Huxley, Victorian Duke, pp. ioo-i.3. C. T. Gatty, Mary Davies and the Manor ofEbury, Vol. 1, p. 89.4. ibid., Vol. II, p. 181.5. ibid., II,,118-9, I29 "6. James Pope-Hennessey, Queen Mary, p. 303.7. Douglas Sutherland, The Landowners, p. 93.8. ibid., pp. 83, 96.9. Anita Leslie, Edwardians in Love, p. 223.10. Duchess of Bedford, Now the Duchesses, pp.175, 177, 181.11 . Chips Channon, Diaries, p. 477.12. Duke of Manchester, My Candid Recollections,p. 236.13. Gervas Huxley, op. cit., p. 103.14. ibid., p. 91.15. Gervas Huxley, Lady Elizabeth and theGrosvenors, p. 15.16. Walpole, XXI, 490.17. F. M. L. Thompson, English Landed Society in

the NineteenthCentury, p. 89.

18. The Times, 10th February 1969.19. Complete Peerage.20. The Times, 23rd February 1963.Anthony Sampson, Anatomy of Britain, p. 12

14 The Expatriates

Duke of Manchester; Duke of Montrose

The Duke of Manchester referred to in this chapterdied in 1977 but has remained the central figure ashe was the last of his line to make any mark. Hisson, the 11th Duke, died in 1985, whereupon thetitles passed to a younger brother, born in 1938,who lives somewhere in England and attempts tokeep the lowest of profiles.

There was a time when it was unthinkable that any peerof the realm, especially a duke, should live anywherebut on his land. It was his duty to do so. Some wentabroad to escape creditors (like the eighteenth- centuryDuke of St Albans), or to side-step the scandal whichtheir activities would provoke were they to remain inEngland (like the Duke of Beaufort's sons in thenineteenth century), and some because they were loosein the head and an embarrassment to their families. Noone lived abroad through choice. The climate is

different now. A number of peers have emigratedbecause taxation was bleeding them dry, or becausethey found that the atmosphere in Britain had becomeoppressive. The Duke of Bedford lived in South Africabefore he came to the title (whereupon he returnedimmediately to England to assume his responsibilities atWoburn). The Duke of Newcastle also made his homein Africa for some years, though he now lives in quietanonymity in Hampshire. Two dukes remained inAfrica - their Graces of Manchester and of Montrose.The Duke of Manchester (1902-1977) lived in Kenyafrom 1946, and the Duke of Montrose (born 1907) inRhodesia since 1931. They were virtual exiles, andthey wanted to be - and Montrose, of course, still is.

A degree of disapproval is felt, rather vaguelyperhaps, when mention of their name is made. There isa suspicion that they ought to have stayed when timeswere bad, their ancestors having reaped handsomerewards from the good times. Their departure does notaccord with the principle of interdependent loyalty inwhich ducal estates have flourished. The tenants mightwell feel their lords have bolted.

(In fairness, it should be pointed out that in

Montrose's case at least, the family estates are run byhis son and heir Lord Graham.)

Manchester and Montrose had much in commonwhich could explain why they, and not others, left thecountry. They both came from families which have longbeen prey to wanderlust. The 10th Duke ofManchester's mother and grandmother were bothAmericans, who brought to the blood a certaininternationalism. The Duke soon displayed an urge tospread his wings. He was for many years aCommander in the Royal Navy. His father had been alieutenant in the R.N.V.R. The Duke of Montrose, too,was in the R.N.V.R., and his father might even bedescribed as obsessed with the sea. He devoted hisentire life to the sea and sailors, giving long service tothe Royal National Lifeboat Institution. Both with navaltraining, Montrose and Manchester were also bothpassionate farmers. Manchester inherited this from hisgrandmother's family, who were southern plantationpeople in the United States. His brother, Lord EdwardMontagu, felt the draw before he did, and went tofarm in Canada. His son Roderick lives in Edmonton,Alberta. The Montrose passion for farming derives

from the long association of the family with the Scottishlowlands.

Other ties united the two. They bothcame from a long line of handsome men,and were distantly related. The Duke ofMontrose is descended twice over fromManchester stock; his great-grandfatherwas the 7th Duke of Manchester, and hisgreat-great-great grandfather was the 4thDuke. It is no surprise that they shouldhave shared certain family characteristics,then, which impelled them to choose exile.

Most prominent among thesecharacteristics is an unabashed bluntconviction that the white races areinherently superior to all others. The Dukeof Manchester's father published hismemoirs in 1932. Under one illustration hewrote the caption, "some of the niggersemployed on my grandparents'plantation". In the text he felt the need toexplain the use of such a word. "As themodern jargon of equal rights foreverybody had not then penetrated totheir childlike minds thay had no objectionto being called 'niggers', and would in facthave been surprised at any other

description being given to them."1 Someyears later, in 1960, the Duke of Montrosewas able to write, "It is commonobservation that the African child is abright and promising little fellow up to theage of puberty, which he reaches in anycase two years before the European. Hethen becomes hopelessly inadequate anddisappointing and it is well known thatthis is due to his almost total obsessionhenceforth in matters of sex."2 On otheroccasions Montrose has been heard torefer to the dark savage depths of theAfrican mind, to "mongrelisation" formiscegenation, and to people who haveideas different from his own as "long-haired enthusiasts".3

The Duke of Manchester had a staff of187 persons on his farm in Kenya, withfourteen houseboys and twentygardeners. There are no more than acouple of dukes in Britain who couldmatch this. It is odd to think that theducal style of life, more or less extinct inthis country, should have continued tothrive in Africa. Another motive comesfrom a crusading nature. Both menbelieved that the African countries have

reason to be grateful for their presence intheir midst of representatives of asuperior culture and European mentality.Montrose in particular is a religious man(his son, daughter and son-in-law are allactively engaged in the MoralRearmament crusade) who sometimesbetrays a belief in divine mission. He ison record as saying that Rhodesianterritory is mentioned in the Bible andthat Rhodesians were people of destinycharged with the task of being a blessingto mankind.4

Manchester and Montrose were madeof the stuff of pioneers. They had thecourage of the pioneer, the readiness towork hard, the determination and theruthlessness. When Manchester went toKenya in 1946, he lived in a mud hut. Hedrove the tractors to establish his ownfarm, and built his own magnificent house(not, of course, single-handed). He diedwith 11,000 acres in glorious country andreason to be proud of his achievement.The house contained some of the familytreasures which he brought out ofEngland, including Holbeins, Van Dycks,an Aubusson carpet, and a library of

13,000 books. The seat of the family inEngland, Kimbolton Castle inHuntingdonshire, was sold to KimboltonGrammar School in 1950 for £12,500, andthe entire contents were auctioned off theyear before. Some paintings of hugedimensions, attributed to Rubens, VanDyck, Tintoretto and Veronese, went forten and eleven guineas apiece. The otherseat, in Ireland — Tandaragee Castle,County Armagh - has been empty sincethe last duke's time. The Manchesterestate possessed about 14,000 acres inEngland, but the 10th Duke himself brokeall ties with this country and most of theestates were put up for sale. His heir, LordMandeville, farmed in Kenya, and hisbrother, we have seen, farms in Canada.The Duke was so identified with Kenyathat he mastered several of the locallanguages, including Swahili. He marriedtwice. His first wife was Nell Stead, anAustralian, who died in 1966. The secondwife was a native of California, formerlyMrs Crocker. Preceding duchesses ofManchester have been German, Cuban,American, Australian and American, thelast English duchess being at thebeginning of the nineteenth century.

The Duke of Montrose went toRhodesia at the age of twenty-four, whenhe was heir apparent to the titles. He hadno money, and worked from scratch toestablish the 3000-acre farm he nowmanages. In 1925 there had been 130,000acres on Montrose property in Scot land,shrinking within a few years, largelythrough the voracious demands of deathduties, to 10,000 acres. It was at that pointthat young Lord Graham packed his bagsand left. The family seat, Buchanan Castle,had proved too large for anyone to live in,so they had moved to a farm house, towhich they added some rooms, calledAuchmar. Here, not far from Glasgow, theDuke's son and heir, Marquess of Graham,now lives.

Montrose is an immensely impressive man, six feetand five inches tall (he weighed eleven and a quarterpounds at birth!), shambling and dominant. He haswinning Celtic charm, courtesy and warmth, but whenroused he can be gruff to a degree. His reputation forbluntness is well-deserved. He is not a man to waste

words or to ingratiate.The Duke of Manchester ceased to have any official

function when his country became independent,whereas the Duke of Mont rose continued his politicalinterests in Rhodesia, presenting himself by the waywith a curious and embarrassing ethical problem. In1962 he was appointed Minister of Agriculture inWinston Field's govern ment; his colleague at theTreasury was Ian Smith. Two years later Field resignedand provoked the crisis which produced Ian Smith'sown government, the Unilateral Declaration ofIndependence, the abortive constitutional conferences,and the appeal from the Queen to her Rhodesiansubjects to obey her Ministers at Westminster.Throughout this crisis, Montrose retained his post atthe Ministry of Agriculture, transferring later to theMinistry of External Affairs and Defence. He was,therefore, part of a rebellious illegal government, guiltyin constitutional law of treason. It is a beguiling ironywhich makes a traitor of the direct descendant of theGreat Montrose, one of the most illustrious heroes inour history, who gave his life in the service of theCrown. The irony appears to be lost on the Duke, who

wrote an article explaining that he did not feel himselfbound by the oath of allegiance to remain loyal toideals which he does not share, and which -were not inhis mind when he took the oath.6 It is doubt ful if theargument would hold up in law. He would, at leasttheoretically, be liable to prosecution under theTreason Act of 1351 for taking part in a treacherousassembly against the Queen's Majesty. RogerCasement and Lord Haw-Haw were both prosecutedunder this Act. Since U.D.I. the Duke has not beenback to Britain to test the matter. He holds aRhodesian passport and considers him self aRhodesian in all but birth. He recently applied for aBritish passport, which was refused.

[14]

Willie Hamilton, tireless pursuer of the abusers ofprivilege, sug gested that the noble Duke be bannedhenceforth from Westminster. The Prime Minister ofthe day, Harold Wilson, would not be pressed. "Thosewho have had a chance of observing this member ofthe illegal regime at close quarters will not treat himwith quite so much seriousness as you do," he said.

The Duke's constitutional position continues to be apeculiar unresolved anomaly.As time progressed, Montrose was revealed to be too

extreme even for Mr Smith. He had already brokenwith his old friend Humphrey Gibbs, H.M. Governor,as a result of the crisis, and in 1968 came the rupturewith Smith, whose policy of gradualism exasperatedthe Duke. It was widely rumoured that Montrose hadpersuaded Smith to reverse his position and reject theagreement he had worked out with Wilson on H.M.S.Tiger in 1966.6 This time Smith could not be pushedtowards obstinacy, so Montrose resigned from hisgovern ment. The resignation did not make theimpression he might have expected. The DailyTelegraph, in a leader, called him "an insigni ficantperson",7 which must have hurt; word was passedround that he had not been a particularly effectiveminister anyway, and that his speeches as well as hisunderstanding of the work were often less polishedthan those of the black men whose intelligence he sodeplored.Montrose remains passionately devoted to the idea of

Common wealth, and just as hotly antagonistic against

the idea of Common Market. He is a man of strongemotions, intensely patriotic (though to which patria issometimes confusing), outspoken, unmoved bycompromise. If he were to meet his great ancestor atthe pearly gates, they would hardly recognise oneanother. Sometimes his passion rouses him to animpressive rhetoric. "We shall soon know," he said in1965, "whether our mother country will say to us 'Mysons go in peace with my blessing', or whether she willthrow us from her, spite fully, upon a rocky road, whileshe clutches to her bosom the cuckoos in her nest."8He has not been in government now since 1968, but is

still in Rhodesia, where he prefers to be known asAngus Graham. Even as a minister he was never morethan "Lord Graham", apparently to avoid embarrassingthe Rhodesians who would not know how to addresshim. Also, he quite manifestly feels more easy as AngusGraham, the Rhodesian farmer.

Interestingly enough, the family name "Graham" isperhaps derived from a word "greim" meaning one whois (or looks) determined, one who holds hard,9 as in themodern "grim-faced". If so, it would apply most aptlyto the 7th Duke of Montrose, and to that part of the

personality of his great ancestor, the great Marquess ofMontrose. They have little else in common.

The Marquess of Montrose (1612-1650), great-grandfather of the dukedom is one of the giant figuresof history, martyr, military genius, poet, democraticidealist, and hero of romance and chivalry. He is, in hisway, as great a man as Wellington or Marlborough,and brings 'to the name of Montrose as much lustre anddistinction. He died before his task could becompleted, but he left behind him "an inspiration and aname which would outlast the ruin of his hopes".10

Montrose was descended from a line of earls, thefirst of whom was killed at Flodden Field on 9thSeptember 1513, fighting in the opposite camp toSurrey, ancestor of the Duke of Norfolk. The story ofMontrose runs parallel with that of Argyll and ofHamilton, ances tors of the dukes of that name, whohave found their way into other chapters. Of the three,it is Montrose who has become legendary, while Argylland Hamilton have difficulty retrieving any kind ofrepu tation from the events.

We are in Covenanting times. Charles I hadattempted to impose upon the Scots a new Prayer

Book, or "Book of Public Service" to give it its fullname, which was formal, elaborate, and smelt a little ofRoman liturgy. It did not please the Scots, at that timeseduced by the simplicity of Presbyterianism whichpreferred extempore prayers and eschewed ceremony,with the result that Charles's orders were greeted withriots in churches throughout Scot land and thebeginning of a fatal schism had appeared. A week later,the National Covenant was drawn up, a largeparchment promising to defend king and countryagainst the impertinent power of the bishops andagainst the threat of Popery. The parchment wasstretched out upon a tombstone, and "for three days,wet or fine, from morn to dusk, the scratching of thepen never ceased".11 Those who signed the Covenantwere henceforth known as Covenanters, and thosewho refused were the Royalists. Of the former, youngMontrose, high-spirited, eager to serve and to make hismark, was foremost. Of the latter, it was Hamilton, theKing's friend and adviser, who led, a pompous,strutting over-rated peacock of a man, who loved theluxurious Court of London, and visited Scotland withreluctance.

At the famous Assembly of 1638, over whichpresided Hamilton as the King's Commissioner, thethird protagonist, Argyll, had not yet declared himself.Hamilton dissolved the Assembly, at which point itceased to be legal, and stalked out without anyonepaying him any attention. Argyll then stepped in andwithin minutes had established himself as the leader ofthe Covenanting Party; he was the wealthiest, the mostpowerful as chief of the Campbells, the most wily andshrewd man present.

Montrose was no match for either Hamilton, whosesycophancy he could not emulate, or Argyll, whosepolitical wisdom was too mature for him, and bothwere shortly to be his enemy. He had a frank, honestnature, candour and youthful enthusiasm. He wascertainly the most intelligent of the three and was toentertain a philosophy which the other two wereincapable of understanding.

Montrose was above all a thinker. While otherScottish nobles were governed by fierce passions,fanatical convictions, the inflexibility of unreflective,over-confident youth, Montrose was governed byreason, by calm analysis. He was unique in the

Scotland of that time. His ideals were democratic; hevalued the conception of Sovereignty, but did notconfuse it with Monarchy. For a stable government,sovereignty was essential, either the sovereignty ofkings, as in Europe, or of a council of nobles, as inVenice, or of the representatives of the people, as inancient Rome. He did not hold that the mon archicalsystem was necessarily the best, simply because it wasthe system which obtained in Britain, but he did seethat it was better to improve it than to overthrow it. Hisidea was a constitutional mon archy, a kingcircumscribed by duty towards his people andobedience to the law. What he feared most was theinstability which led to anarchy, and the vilest of evils— oppression. Anarchy, he said, was "the oppressionand tyranny of subjects, the most fierce, insatiable, andinsufferable tyranny in the world".12 Many of theseideas were generations ahead of their time, andinconceivable in a land where the divine right of kingsto rule without question was the order of the day.When Argyll took over as the Covenanting leader,policies became extreme, stupid, and cruel; theythreatened the stability which Montrose cherished, the

rule of law, the precious legality upon which anycharge must be based. He left them and joined theKing, telling him frankly that he would cease to supportHis Majesty if he (the King) were to diverge from hisduty of defending the religion and rights of his people.It was a bold declaration.

Initially, Hamilton was able to turn the King againstthe young man who suddenly offered his services.Hamilton was jealous of Montrose's popularity, beautyand dash, and was afraid that he might get too close tothe King. Eventually, however, Charles learned to trustthe convert, and sent him on a mission to bringScotland to obedience.

Montrose had no army, no means of raising one, andwould be imprisoned as soon as he entered Scotland,yet he must somehow subdue Scotland for the King.All he had was the King's order. It was a hopelesstask. "As in most great adventures, there was no solidhope save in the soul of the adventurer. . . . He was tofling himself into the midst of a hostile country toimprovise an army."13 This is exactly what he achieved.In disguise, with only the power of his per sonality todefend him, Montrose made for the Highlands, and

there he revealed his identity, captured the imaginationof those sturdy Highlanders, and emerged from thedarkness some weeks later to win a series ofimpossible battles, with a force of 1500 men againstthousands. For a year, he won one battle after another- Inverlochy, Dundee, Aberdeen, Tippermuir, until heappeared invincible. That year, 1642, saw the birth ofhis legend.

As a strategist, he was without peer. Space will notallow an examination of his battles, but a brilliant lucidaccount is offered in John Buchan's book. This strategiccunning was in spite of the unfamiliarity of theHighlands; the Grahams were a lowland family. Notonly was he a military genius, which would not alone besufficient for a legend, but he was a leader of decencyand humanity. In an age when it was routine for aconquering army to plunder, pillage, murder and rape,Montrose forbade his men any such vengeful act; theywere allowed victuals, but not wanton destruction. Themen were unpaid, yet they were loyal. They observedhis ideals of succour to the wounded, avoidance ofunnecessary bloodshed, and generosity to a defeatedarmy. Within a year the name of Montrose rang around

the Highlands with a power that made Argyll andHamilton tremble. He had "kindled already a fire whichthe parliament of Edinburgh could not quench"."

He was finally defeated at the battle of Philiphaugh.Just before hostilities began, he took the Garter ribbonfrom around his neck and concealed it in the cleft of aholly tree, meaning to return and reclaim it later. Ofcourse, he never did. Years later it was discoveredthere, and returned to the Montrose family, with whomit remains."

The rest of an exciting career must be passed overrapidly. When Charles I was executed, Montrosefainted at the news. He then shut himself in his study fortwo days and two nights to think. He emergeddetermined to expiate the King's death, but knowingthat the odds were against him. He declared his loyaltyto Charles II, "as I never desired to live but for theirMajesty's service, so shall I never shun to die foryours".19 The new king in exile made a fatal error ofjudgement in negotiating with the Argyll faction inEdin burgh, whom he had officially to treat as thelegitimate government there, while commissioningMontrose privately to go back to Scotland and fight

against Argyll in the King's name. Argyll promptlyplaced a price of £30,000 on Montrose's head,declared him a traitor and called him "James Graham".Montrose wrote to the King that he would abandon hislife for the King's interests, "with that integrity that youand all the world shall see that it is not your fortunes,but you, in whatsoever fortune, that I make sacred toserve".17

Montrose was betrayed by MacLeod of Assynt,who had offered him shelter. He was brought toEdinburgh. The people of the city had been told that themiserable traitor was about to be shown to them, andthey were encouraged to line the streets for his entry.Some were hired to stone him. He was placed on ahangman's cart, his arms tied to his sides so that hewould not be able to avoid the stones, and a fanfarewas sounded when the exhibition was about to begin.The cart creaked slowly into the street calledCanongate, packed tight with a jeering mob. Withinseconds an amazing change overtook the crowd. Thejeering ceased, the shouting died down, and soon therewas nothing but an eerie respectful silence, stabbedoccasionally with sobbing. For three hours the cart

edged its way up the Canongate, and by the end of thejourney the fame of Montrose was assured. Argyll wascelebrating the wedding of his son on the same day andin the same street. He peered through a curtain at hisvanquished foe, whose cart had come to a standstill sothick were the crowds, and hoping to see thedegradation of a hero, saw instead a man whom he,Argyll, had helped to canonise.

Montrose approached the market cross where hewas to hang on a gibbet thirty feet high (later known as"Argyll's altar" or the Mini sters' altar), taunted andprovoked by the clergy who wished him to repent. Heremained cool and unfailingly courteous, impressing allwith the dignity of his bearing. Only once did he raisehis voice slightly. "Gentleman, let me die in peace," hesaid, and there was silence. He climbed the ladder,looked at the rope, and asked "How long must I hangthere?" The hangman fixed the halter, tears streamingdown his face, and Montrose, without flinching steppedoff to his death. His body hung there for three hours,was then hacked to pieces, the head placed on a spikeon the Tolbooth (where it remained for eleven years,until it was replaced by Argyll's), and the limbs

distributed to Stirling, Glasgow, Perth, and Aberdeen.It was a death reserved for a criminal, not for anobleman or a soldier. Montrose's only comment wasthat he was pleased the Scots should make sure hisloyalty was proved throughout the country in soforce ful and visible a way. His last words were, "Godhave mercy on this afflicted land."

So died a man whose sense of justice, mercy andtruth shone in an age of vindictiveness, a man whoinsisted on treating his prisoners well, who allowedthem to write to their family and friends, andentertained them at his own table, a man who retiredfrom the battle to write a profession of faith remarkablefor its style as for its content, or to write some beautifulverse. His equal has not been seen in Scot land. InJohn Buchan's phrase, it was "a career which must rankamong the marvels of our history".

Montrose's son was the 2nd Marquess (1631-1669), known as "The Good Marquess", who effecteda decent reconciliation between his house and theArgylls. He said that he could not vote at the trial ofArgyll in 1661, because he was too closely involved tobe impartial. In 1667 the two sons drank each other's

health in public, and Argyll was appointed guardian toMontrose's son. When Mont rose died, Argylltravelled from Inveraray to attend his funeral.18

The 1st Duke of Montrose (1682-1742) waselevated to the high est rank as a reward for hisservices in connection with the union with Scotland in1707. He had been a strong supporter of the union,and of the Protestant succession, much to theannoyance of his father's side of the family. It was saidthat he was led by the nose and governed by hismother and her relations, which, in view of his sweetdisposition and good nature, is more than likely. Theinfluence of his name carried some weight when heallied himself against the Jacobite rebellion of 1715.There again, his mother seems to have made thedecision as to what side he should take. A satiricalverse of the time makes no bones about it:

"Limner, proceed,conspicuously exposeThe chicken hearted narrowsoul Montrose,Show how he doth debase his

noble lineWhich heretofore illustriouslydid shine.Show how he makes himself afool of State,A slave to avarice, to hisfriends ungrate."18

He also has a place in the history of Rob Roy, for itwas owing to the failure of a speculation which RobRoy shared with the Duke and the Duke's demand forrepayment, that Roy had to resort to an outlaw's life,supporting himself by robbing the Duke's tenants.

Political life was a wasteland to the 2nd Duke ofMontrose (1712— 1790), for he was totally deaf, andfor the last thirty years, quite blind as well. His life wasmiserably isolated, needing an interpreter to speak evento his wife. Their one joy was their son, Lord Graham.The deafness, incidentally, was to recur in the familyfour generations later.

His Duchess died very suddenly one day after dinner.They ate some minced veal, which she said she likedextremely well, then slumped back in her chair lifeless.

The 3rd Duke (1755-1836) resumed political life.He was in turn Master of the Horse, President of theBoard of Trade, Postmaster- General, and LordChamberlain. His handling of these positions was notvery distinguished, and he seems chiefly to beremembered for having effected a change in the lawwhich enabled Highlanders to wear the kilt, longprohibited, prompting a wit to congratulate him thus:

Thy patriot zeal has bared their partsbehindTo the keen whistling of the wintry wind.

He was handsome man, with "symmetry of externalfigure" and no fool; the general view was that the jobsgiven him taxed his undoubted abilities too far. Wraxallsaid that he "displayed various qualities calculated tocompensate for the want of great ability; par- ticuarly,the prudence, sagacity, and attention to his owninterests, so characteristic of the Caledonian people".20

Pitt, who made him Lord of the Treasury as well asmuch else besides, was thought to have overloadedhim. The same Wraxall tetchily pointed out that

Montrose was only given the Garter "after longhesitation", because the Duke of Norfolk had refused it.

His son was a man in much the same mould,reserved, not easily reachable, but with that strictMontrose honour which recurs. Also Postmaster-General (he actually reduced overseas postal charges),he introduced into the family bag of idiosyncrasies anoverbalance towards the right-wing which has persistedinto the twentieth century. His duchess caused a stir inthe wake of the Flora Hastings scandal by publiclyhissing Queen Victoria. Lady Flora Hastings had beendriven to illness and early death by a nasty campaign ofgossip in which Queen Victoria had played anunworthy part. The substance of the tattle was thatLady Flora was unlawfully pregnant, and as a Lady ofthe Bedchamber to the Queen's mother, Duchess ofKent, her condition was indecent. The rumour waswithout any founda tion, but the poor girl had to submitto medical examination and private torment; she died atBuckingham Palace in 1839, aged thirty-three, bringinga storm of vehement unpopularity about the Queen'shead. The Duchess of Montrose made her onecontribution to history by booing Victoria as she made

her customary progress down the course at Ascot. TheDuchess's companion was Lady Sarah Ingestre. TheQueen wanted to have both women flogged,21 and herdefendants thought them foolish and vulgar.22 The affairwas shortly patched up, and the Duke, who died in1874 at the age of seventy- five, was once moreadmitted at Court.

He was succeeded by his son as 5th Duke ofMontrose (1852- 1925), on whose death the familyestates were decimated to meet taxation. His wife,Hermione, was a grand-daughter of the sad 12th Dukeof Somerset, thus bringing into the Montrose genes theblood of that ill-fated man.The 6th Duke of Montrose (1878-1954), A.D.C. to

George V (as had been his father), was the sailorDuke, a Knight of the Thistle, and C.V.O. Among hismore esoteric accomplishments was the first-ever filmof a total eclipse of the sun, which he took in India in1899, and the invention of the first aircraft carrier.More significantly, he demonstrated in bold lines theGraham political leanings by working as chairman ofthe Scottish Nationalist Party, although it is fair to saythat the independence he wanted for Scot land was

relative and limited, not absolute. He probablyinherited his deafness from an ancestral propensity. Hemarried a daughter of the 12th Duke of Hamilton, andtheir son is the present Rhodesian Duke.Their grandson is heir to the titles, Marquess of

Graham, married to a Canadian and living on Grahamland in Scotland, of which about 10,000 acres remain.Lord Graham, enthusiastic in the Moral Rearmamentmovement, is caretaker of the relics of the Marquess ofMontrose, that most tolerant and generous of men, towhom M.RA. would have been anathema.

* * *

While the Marquess was fighting for the King inScotland, with sensational success, the 2nd Earl ofManchester (1602-1671) was fighting somewhat half-heartedly for Cromwell in England, with no success tospeak of. Despondency overwhelmed him, as herealised "if we beat the king ninety-nine times, he isking still, and so will his posterity be after him; but if theking beat us once, we shall all be hanged, and ourposterity made slaves".23 His personality was not madefor the burden of war. Like Montrose, he most wanted

a peace ful constitutional monarchy, yet he foundhimself on the opposite side to the Marquess.Meekness and a gentle nature fashioned his attitudes,and although he was a Puritan, he was no extremeascetic. Softness of temper endeared him to all exceptCromwell, who grew steadily exasperated with hismildness, and charged him with waging the warincompetently. Neglect and incapacity were levelledagainst him by the furious Cromwell, who, according toClarendon, "hated him above all men, and desired tohave taken away his life".24 He even accused the earlof cowardice, which was not justified. In truth,Manchester was sick to death with the war, which hesecretly realised was futile because it was not lawful.However reasonable might be the grievances of thePuritans, they were outside the law in rebellion againstthe King. Manchester was more principled thanCromwell, and he was, after all, from an illustriousfamily of lawyers; he knew what he was talking about.

From the beginning, Manchester had no stomach forrebellion. He was convinced that the King was in error,but he was brought into open opposition by one ofCharles's grossest blunders, and one of the most direct

causes of the Civil War. The King had entered theHouse of Commons and attempted to arrest five of themembers, charging them with treason. The Earl ofManchester was one of the five. Clarendon tells thestory vividly :

"On 3 January 1642 he accused Lord Mandeville(later Earl of Manchester) and five members of theHouse of Commons - including Pym, Hampden,Heselrige and Holies - of high treason. The next dayhe went himself to arrest them, taking with him a fileof musketeers. But the news had gone before him,and as Charles entered the House of Commons thefive members were already on their way by boat to asafe refuge in the City. When the king looked roundthe House and saw that his enemies had fled, hecalled on the Speaker to tell him where they hadgone, but the Speaker fell on his knees andanswered: 'May it please your Majesty, I haveneither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak in this placebut as the House is pleased to direct me, whoseservant I am.' Charles, knew that his coup had failed.'Well,' he said, 'since I see all the birds are flown, I

do expect from you that you shall send them unto meas soon as they return hither', and he left the Houseas abruptly as he had come."25

The next time Charles went to the Palace ofWestminster, it was to stand trial.

Manchester was not suited by disposition to thosetempestuous times; he could not call upon a reserveof hatred or ferocity to carry him through. Cromwellcould stand it no longer, and got rid of him. "He wasat last dismissed, and removed from any trust for noother reason, but because he was not wickedenough."26

He opposed the ordinance to place the King on trialwith the strongest resolution of his career, and had nopart in his execution. He was active in bringing aboutthe Restoration, bearing the Sword of State at CharlesII's coronation in 1661, and he was on the bench whichtried the regicides. History has allowed him a decentrepentance.

If anything proved that he preferred the fireside to thebattlefront, it was the Earl of Manchester's marriages.He married no less than five times (the first four wives

all died), three of them members of the same family. Hewas the husband in turn of the Earl of Warwick'sdaughter, the Earl of Warwick's sister, and the Earl ofWarwick's wife.

Manchester, whose family name was Montagu, wasdescended from Sir Edward Montagu (1532-1602) ofBoughton in Northamp tonshire. Sir Edward's father, aLord Chief Justice, had refused to recognise the patentwhich created Edward Seymour 1st Duke of Somerset(as it had been created by Seymour himself), and hadrecognised Lady Jane Grey as Queen (for which helater apologised). In both cases, he established thefamily tradition of strict legal probity on which this lineof lawyers has prided itself. He bought BoughtonHouse in 1528. The second Sir Edward Montagu hadsix sons, of whom the first was created Baron Montaguof Boughton and was ancestor to the Dukes ofMontagu. The title is now extinct, but the Montagulands, including Boughton House, passed by marriageinto the Duke of Buccleuch's family; the Buccleuch oftoday lives at Boughton. The third son, SydneyMontagu, was ancestor of the earls of Sandwich, andthe second son was Henry Montagu, Earl of

Manchester and ancestor of the dukes of Manchester.The Montagu name survives today not only in thedukedom of Manchester and that of Buccleuch(Montagu-Douglas-Scott), but also in the family nameof Lord Montagu of Beaulieu (Douglas-Scott-Montagu). All three men are descended from SirEdward.

The Manchester family claims an ultimate descentfrom one Drogo de Monte Acuto, who came with theConqueror, and all Dukes of Manchester since 1855have borne the name "Drogo" in recognition of the fact.It is, however, entirely fanciful. They are actuallydes cended from a man called Richard Ladde, whochanged his name to "Montagu" about 1447. Nobodyknows why.27

We shall see that the Manchesters have long acceptedan erroneous version of the derivation of their principaltitle as well.Henry Montagu was created Baron Kimbolton and

Viscount Man- deville in 1620, and Earl ofManchester in 1626. He had shortly before, in 1619 or1620, bought from the Wingfield family a hand someresidence in Huntingdonshire called Kimbolton Castle,

notable as a place where Catherine of Aragon hadbeen imprisoned and spent the last ten years of her life.It had previously been the ancient seat of theMendevils. Thus, when Henry Montagu bought thepost of Lord High Treasurer of England for £20,000from the Duke of Buckingham, who traded blatantly inpolitical offices and peerage titles to fill the King'spurse, he was told the position carried a peer age withit, so he chose as his titles the name of his new home,and the name of its previous owners — Kimbolton andMandeville.

[15]

In effect, he bought himself into the peerage, as othersdid in different ways. Only ten months later, Mandevillehad to relinquish this office, but the peerage titles werethere to stay.Five years after that, he was raised still higher as 1st

Earl of Man chester. It has long been assumed, evenby the dukes of Manchester themselves, that this titlehad nothing whatever to do with the cotton- spinningindustrial city in the north of England. Ten miles fromKimbolton Castle is a little place called

Godmanchester, which is sup posed to have given itsname to the Earl, who then shortened it. One only hasto consult the patent roll of 1626 to see that this iswrong. Henry Montagu is quite clearly Earl ofManchester in the county of Lancaster, in spite of hisnever having been near the place. Godmanchester inHuntingdonshire is a red herring. The most that can besaid is that the local village, by an association of ideas,sug gested "Manchester" to his mind for want of anybetter alternative.Montagu had first come to notice as a lawyer and a

judge. In 1616 he had opened the case against Lordand Lady Somerset in their trial for the murder of SirThomas Overbury. He was an assidu ous member ofthe Star Chamber, noted for his lawyer's impartiality,equal in condemnation of Puritan and Papist. Hebecame one of Charles I's most trusted advisers, hisprobity unquestioned. Later he was Lord Privy Sealand Speaker of the House of Lords. Theologi callydeeply learned, Manchester published a Protestanttreatise which he called Contemplationes Mortis etImmortalitatis, in dignified and persuasive prose. Itfirst appeared in 1631 running into fifteen editions by

1688. Hand in hand with piety, he was drunk withevery meal.28

His son was the 2nd Earl, Cromwell's reluctantlieutenant, and his grandson 3rd Earl of Manchesterfought as Captain in the Duke of Monmouth's regimentof 1666.

The 4th Earl was created 1st Duke of Manchester(1662-1722), though it is not at all easy to see why.He had been a lifelong sup porter of William of Orangesince the two met in Europe in 1685 (the Earl was thentwenty-three years old), demonstrating his sup port bybearing St Edward's staff at the coronation of Williamand Mary in 1689. His life carries no surprises. Incommon with father, grandfather, and back to SirEdward Montagu, he revered the con stitution andloved the process of law. Nevertheless, asAmbassador to Venice and Paris successively, he doesnot appear to have done very well, meeting withrebuffs and evasions in his diplomacy, so that hisdukedom, conferred by George I in 1719, can onlyhave been a prize for trying.

Belle Montagu is remembered by those who wish todraw from her life a lesson in the duplicity and cunning

of women. She was a daughter of the Duke ofMontagu, and grand-daughter of the greatMarlborough. She conceived a passion for thehandsome twenty- three-year-old 2nd Duke ofManchester (1700-1739), to whom she was, ofcourse, distantly related. "Belle is at this instant in thepara- disal state of receiving visits every day from apassionate lover, who is her first love", wrote one lady.There was a story, unattested but fas cinating, that theDuke was so insane with love that he shut himself into aroom with a pair of loaded pistols and determined tokill himself if she would not have him. Unfortunately, hisaim was not good. The first shot took away his righteye and some bone. The second shot shattered hisjaw. He then tried to string himself from the ceiling.Servants came to his rescue, and Belle was soimpressed she consented to marry him then and there.Certainly they were married very quickly, in April ofthat year, and certainly they were miserably unhappywithin six months. Belle gave her husband a dreadfultime. "The Duchess of Manchester frets, shrugs, andbarks there as usual; but whether Her Grace hasswallow'd or spit out again the tips of all the noses she

has bit off since you left England, I am unable to informyou. The only reason why she has never deprived herdear Duke of his, I suppose, is that she hopes one timeor other to lead him by it."29 So wrote Lord Hervey toHenry Fox, eight years after the marriage. Elsewherehe refers to them as the she-tiger and the jackass.Belle must have been a trying woman. Apart from her

habit of coming down to breakfast with a parrot, amonkey and a lapdog,30 she was pursued by enslavedmen. She showed no remorse when her husband, towhom her indifference was now public knowledge,died at the age of thirty-nine, leaving her only thefurniture of two upstairs rooms and everything else tohis brother. Within a year the poor Earl ofScarborough was smitten with a passion for her whichended in his suicide. (Probably this story has becomeconfused with the unsubstantiated account of theDuke's mania; Scarborough definitely did die.) He hadapparently entrusted to her a state secret which shehad foolishly divulged in gossip, leaving the man nochoice but to kill himself.31 Or he may have died forlove of her. A few years afterwards she married an

obscure Irishman called Hussey, for whom sheobtained a suitable ennoblement. Charles HanburyWil liams drily noted : "How slight the difference isbetween The Duchess and the Hussey."The Duke had meanwhile been succeeded by his

brother as 3rd Duke of Manchester (1710-1762),whose son the 4th Duke (1737- 1788) deservesattention for having given London one of its famoussquares. He built himself a town house in 1776, calledit Manchester House, and the square front ManchesterSquare. The house now holds the Wallace Collectionand has changed its name; the square is still the same,however, as are Manchester Street, Mandeville Place,and now the Mandeville Hotel.Politically, the 4th Duke was a Whig, and an estimable

man, although Wraxall speaks disparagingly of him. Hegave generous sup port to the colonists throughout theAmerican War of Independence, being one of the fewto agree wholeheartedly with the Duke of Richmond'sprogressive views in the matter. He voted forRichmond's motion of 5th March 1776 to suspendhostilities with the colonists, and again on 23rd Marchhis motion requesting the withdrawal of troops from

America. In 1779 he predicted that the same troublewould eventually occur in Ireland.Manchester was appointed Lord Lieutenant for the

county of Huntingdonshire and, intriguingly, HighSteward of Godmanchester. It must surely be from thistime that the confusion as to the origin of the title dates.He died from a violent three-day fever after catching achill watching cricket at Brighton.So did his son, the 5th Duke (1771-1843), who

continued his father's enlightened policies, particularlyas Governor of Jamaica for nearly twenty years (1808-1827). In the face of vigorous opposition from thesugar and coffee planters, the Duke of Manchesterintro duced a number of reforms for the benefit ofblack slaves. To propose that whips should not becarried in the streets, and that women should beexempt from flogging may not now seem aggressivelysocialist, but it was a brave man who would take theside of the slaves even in a measured degree at thebeginning of the nineteenth century.

Another of the Duke's attitudes, of which there isalso thankfully no vestige today, was that extraordinaryindifference to the affairs of his own family, that

impenetrable starchiness of the paterfamilias which weso often find in the aristocracy of the eighteenth andnineteenth centuries. A glimpse of it is afforded in1822, when the Duke's son and heir, Lord Mandeville,announced his engagement. A lady approached theDuke and complimented him, making polite phrasesabout young Mandeville's excellent character, talents,man ners, etc., until the Duke interrupted her to saythat he knew little or nothing of the young man.32

Perhaps his accident two years before had had someeffect; he had fallen out of his carriage and fracturedhis skull. Or perhaps he simply was not interested inthe boy, who reminded him of his notorious wife andtheir unhappy marriage. She had been a daughter ofJane, Duchess of Gordon, and had become thearchetype of the Duchess who really did elope with herfootman, some time before 1812. As for the Duke, hewas widely regarded as a splendid-looking man. Onewoman went so far as to describe him as "the mostbeautiful statue-like person that ever was seen in fleshand blood".83

With the coming of the Victorian and Edwardianeras, the Man chester enter a period when they are

leaders of the "fast set", taking their cue from thePrince of Wales, and viewed askance by the better-behaved ducal families. The Abercorns, theirneighbours in London, darkly instructed their childrenthat the Manchester's were "worldly".34 None of thisvolatility within the social scale was achieved by thedukes; the 7th Duke of Manchester (1823-1890) was"a well-intentioned bore", and his laboursome book,Court and Society, corroborates the judgement. Buthis wife was a different matter. It was she who broughtzest and sparkle to the Manchester set and made it"fast", and who, with her driving ambition, lifted herdull husband from the shadows. She was Louise vonAlten, a German countess, gloriously beautiful, andeventually to be known as the "Double Duchess". Wehave already met her as the Duchess of Devonshire.She married the Duke of Devonshire forty years aftershe married the Duke of Manchester, but even beforethat she exerted a powerful influence over her retiringproteg6, who was far more intel ligent than herhusband and far more worthy of her ambitions.Louise's spell has not yet quite evaporated in the lastquarter of the twentieth century, while the two

husbands, whom she made shine, have grown dim withtime.

The death of Louise in 1911 really did mark the endof an era; for once the cliche is appropriate. Threeyears later the Great War smashed the aristocratic wayof life with indiscriminate vengeance, and the like ofLouise von Alten was not to be seen again. On adomestic scale, her death also marked a profoundchange in the Man chester family (although it is true tosay the Devonshires have gone on much as before). Inthe last hundred years, the Dukes of Man chester havegradually divorced themselves from English life, havemarried colossally wealthy foreign heiresses and takentheir money abroad. Kimbolton Castle, which gavethem one of their titles, is now a grammar school. The9th Duke of Manchester very neatly made the lastflamboyant gesture of the old style at about the samedate that Louise died; he challenged Crown PrinceWillie of Germany to a duel, because the man hadbehaved like a cad.35 Willie did not accept, but it mustbe one of the last such challenges seriously made in ourhistory. Characteristically, Manchester was mostconcerned that the Crown Prince should not refuse

simply because his rank as Duke was not sufficientlyelevated for the German to accept with honour. Onlyten or twenty years later, everyone would havelaughed the man to scorn.

The 8th Duke (1853-1892) married ConsueloIznaga del Valle, of Ravenswood, U.S.A., and ofCuba. She had wit and vivacity and was very popular.Besides a son and heir, she produced twin daugh ters,Alice and Mary, who as infants were presented toQueen Victoria, on whom they immediately pounced,without ceremony, almost choking her with embraces,and shouting "Nice Queen! Nice Queen!" They musthave been charming, for the Queen was, this time,amused. Later at lunch, the little girls were appalled tosee Her Majesty take up a chicken bone and pick itwith her fingers. Pointing at her, they shouted in unison,"Piggy wiggy!!"36 Alas, the girls had a much chastenedfuture. They were both ill in their youth, and died ofconsumption, one aged sixteen, the other at twenty-one.

The 9th Duke (1877-1947) married the daughter ofa railway director in Cincinnati, Ohio, HelenaZimmerman, and their son was the Kenyan duke,

Alexander Drogo Montagu, o.b.e.

In 1967 the modern descent of those accomplishedlawyer Montagus, who we are told love theconstitution of their country and cherished the way inwhich its history was preserved in legal

documents, removed the Manchester Papers from thePublic Record

documents, removed the Manchester Papers from thePublic Record Office, where they had been depositedfor a century. The Keepers of the Office protested,pointing out that the collection was a valuable sourcefor scholars and should reside in the P.R.O. if theDuke of Manchester was not prepared to house themhimself. He offered them for sale to the Office, at aprice of £1200 but there were no funds to meet such ademand. He then offered them to the British Museum,and they too could not afford to buy them. So the 10thDuke sold them at Sotheby's, and the preciouscollection was dispersed to all winds. Among thepapers was found an unknown manuscript poem in thehand of John Donne.

references

1. The Duke of Manchester, My CandidRecollections, p.30.2. Submission to 1960 Monckton Commission,quoted in The Times,

13 th September 1968.3. Sunday Mirror, 17th October 1965.4. The Guardian, 4th October 1965.5. The Scotsman, 10th November 1964.6. The Observer, 12th September 1968.7. Daily Telegraph, 13th September ig68.8. The Guardian, 4th October 1965.9„ Duke of Montrose, My DittyBox, p. 1 1 . 1 o. S. R.Gardiner, quoted in CompletePeerage.11. C. V. Wedgwood, Montrose., p. 27.12. John Buchan, Montrose, Appendix.13. ibid., pp. 168-9.14. Clarendon, History of the Rebellion, Chapter

406

XV.15. Duke of Montrose, My Ditty Box, p. 1 3 .16. British Museum, Egerton MSS, 19399, f. 62,quoted in Complete 17. Peerage.18. CaLS.P.Dom., 1650, p . 6 1 .19. Hist. MSS. Comm., 6th Report, p. 609.20. Complete Peerage.

21. Wraxall, Posthumous Memoirs, Vol. I, p.59.22. Cecil Woodham-Smith, Queen Victoria,

Vol. I, p. 180.23. Greville, IV, 8 1 .24. D.N.B.25. Clarendon, History of the Rebellion, ChapterXXIV.26. ibid., Introduction.27. Characters of the Seventeenth Century, e d .D a v i d N i c h o l S m i t h ,

p . 1 6 2 .28. Complete Peerage, Vol. IV, Appendix D.

29. B e r n a r d F a l k , The Way of the Montagues, p .4 0 .30. Lord Hervey and His Friends, p . 1 2 1 .31. Falk, op. cit., p. 2 8 2 .32. Duke of Manchester, My Candid Recollections,p. 2 7 .33. Creevey, Life and Times, p. 1 7 1 .34. Complete Peerage.35. Lord Ernest Hamilton, The Halycon Era, p. 74.36. Duke of Manchester, My Candid Recollections,p. 2 3 3 .37. ibid., p. 56

15 Distinctive Extinctions

D u k e o f B r i d g w a t e r ; D u c h e s s o fA l b e m a r l e ; D u c h e s s o f B o l t o n ;D u c h e s s o f K i n g s t o n ; D u c h e s s o fC l e v e l a n d ; D u k e o f B e r w i c k ; D u k e o fL e e d s

In the history of the realm, 1 6 2 separate ducal titleshave been created (excluding the royal dukedoms),and only twenty-six remain today. It would be apity to ignore some of the more interesting orcolourful characters of the past, whose lines arenow extinct. Some, like the Duke of Buckingham(of the Villiers family), would deserve, and havebeen accorded, a book to themselves; others, likethe Duke of Ancaster, belong in oblivion. I wouldlike, at this point, to select, in a totally arbitrary andpersonal way, a f e w of the personalities who wereonce the centre of attention but who now languish in

neglect.A name which has occurred more than once in

these pages is the Duke of Bridgwater. He turns upin the Sutherland story, for they inherited hisproperty and the present Duke of Sutherland bearshis surname - Egerton; he is mentioned in theHamilton and the Argyll accounts, for he was asuitor of the widowed Duchess of Hamilton(Elizabeth Gunning), who later accepted the Dukeof Argyll; and some of his property was recentlysold by the Duke of Westminster.

There were only three dukes of Bridgwater, afather and two sons. It is the 3rd Duke, FrancisEgerton (1736-1803), who made the title famousby building the Bridgwater canals and soanticipating by over half a century the greatrevolution in transport brought about by therailways. So celebrated was this achievement that itis often supposed his title was chosen to represent"bridge over the water". The title in fact predatedthe canal system by many years, and is owedinstead to a small town in County Somerset, which

means "the burg of Walter" and should thereforealways be spelt without the central "e".Francis Egerton was the second son of the i s t Duke ofBridgwater (Scroop Egerton) and Lady Rachel

Russell,[16] daughter of the Duke of Bedford. As achild he was "not only sickly, but apparently of suchfeeble intellect that his exclusion from succession to thedukedom was actually contemplated". However, hiselder brother died, which brought him the dukedom atthe age of twelve. At seventeen he was still a disaster,ignorant and unruly. While still a very young man, heproposed to Elizabeth Gunning and was at firstaccepted. But he insisted that after the marriage sheshould have nothing further to do with her sister LadyCoventry, of whom he did not approve. She notsurprisingly refused to comply with this condition, so heabruptly broke off the engagement, and retired indisgust to his country seat in Lancashire, at the age oftwenty-three, resolved to have nothing more to do with"society".

Within weeks of his self-inflicted exile, he turned his

attention to his canal scheme, which presumably hehad been nurturing. He obtained authority by Act ofParliament to build a canal from Worsley to Salford,but James Brindley the contractor, who hadundertaken similar but less ambitious work for LordStafford, the Duke's brother-in-law, peysuaded him tobuild the canal as far as Manchester, with an aqueductover the Irwell. We now take such matters so muchfor granted that it is difficult to imagine how absurdlyfuturistic it appeared to contemporaries, who ridiculedthe whole idea. Fortunately Bridgwater was not one tobe deflected by mockery, so he adopted the schemewith almost visible defiance. A second Act ofParliament was obtained in 1760, and so was built thefirst canal in England to be entirely independent of anatural stream throughout its course. The aqueductattracted sightseers, and, more practically, the price ofcoal in Manchester was reduced by half as a result ofcheap transport. The Duke of Bridgwater was calledthe founder of British inland navigation.

That is not the end of the story, however. The Dukeand Brindley then proposed a canal from Manchesterto Liverpool. They met with fierce opposition. It was

a foolish undertaking, the idea of a madman, it wouldnever be realised. Unperturbed, the Duke proceededwith his plan, gained the permission of Parliament,and built the canal, twenty-eight miles long, threetimes as long as the earlier one. It was an astonishingengineering feat, achieved at great personal cost tothe Duke, who had not only to pay for theconstruction, but to compen sate landowners whoseland had been acquired by compulsory purchase. Hereduced his own spending to that of a modestworker, with enough to live and eat (he did notbother much with clothing), and Brindley accepted afee of just one guinea a week. Nearly a quarter of amillion pounds was spent on the construction, butulti mately the canals were so successful they yieldedthe Duke an income of £80,000 a year. TheBridgwater canal still serves the country; it wasbought by the Manchester Ship Canal Co. in 1890for £1,710,000.

Personally, the Duke was rather odd. He would

talk about nothing but canals, and he never wrote aletter unless he absolutely had to. He paid no heedto what he was wearing, was utterly careless of hisappearance, and despised those who werecorrespondingly careful. He had few friends. Afterthe Gunning episode, he became a resolutemisogynist, not even allowing a woman servant towait on him. He accumulated a priceless collectionof paintings, which passed to the Duke ofSutherland, his brother-in-law, and has since beendispersed. So much contempt did he have for anyembellishment, for anything pretty and ornamental asopposed to merely useful, that one day, findingsome flowers had been planted in his garden, liewhipped off their heads with his stick and orderedthem to be rooted up.1

The dukedom was extinct with his death in 1803 ,but the earl dom passed to a nephew, who waseven more eccentric than his uncle.

The 8th and last Earl of Bridgwater (1756-1829),also named Francis Egerton, lived alone in a houseon the rue St Honore in Paris, which he referred toas the Hotel Egerton. He was unmarried, but

surrounded by friends, none of whom, however, didhe select from the human species. The house wasfilled to overflowing with cats and dogs, which hepicked up on the streets and invited to share hishome. There were at least fifteen dogs, many ofwhich were frequently observed driving through thestreets of Paris in a carriage with four horses andattended by footmen. They shared his meals withhim, at his dining-table, dressed up as people, withnapkins round their necks, and each with a liveriedfootman standing behind. Bridgwater's bootmakerhad a constant order to supply boots for the dogs,as well as for himself - he never wore the same pairtwice in a year, there were never less than 365 pairsof boots ready for him. If any one of the dogsmisbehaved himself at dinner, tie was the next daybanished to the servants' quarters, where he ate hismeal dressed in livery until he repented. The gardenwas stocked with rabbits, and with pigeons andpartridges whose wings were clipped to allow hislordship the sport of killing a few for his dinner. Inhis will, a strange document, he made a number oflegacies to his servants with the instruction that such

legacies were to be regarded as void if he should be"assassinated or poisoned".2 The dogs inheritednothing.

When his dentist, Monsieur Chemans, happened toreveal that his little son had been stricken with scarletfever, Bridgwater rushed out of the room, strippednaked, and threw his clothes on the fire to escapecontamination. The servants were commanded to dothe same.

Bridgwater spent his time writing dozens of eccentricbooks, now unavailable for the most part except in theBritish Museum. They show a learned man whoseintelligence degenerated into whimsy. His name isremembered for one bequest in the will, an endowmentof £8000 to be given to those authors who would writethe most satisfactory essays on "the Power, Wisdom,and Goodness of God, as manifested in His Creation".These subsequently were known as the "BridgwaterTreatises".

Even more crazy than Bridgwater was the MadDuchess of Albemarle (1654-1734), born ElizabethCavendish, a daughter of the Duke of Newcastle in theCavendish line, and thereby descended from Bess of

Hardwick and distantly related to both the Devonshiresand the Portlands. She married first ChristopherMonck, 2nd Duke of Albemarle on 30th December1669, when she was fifteen years old, and herbridgegroom sixteen. At first her tantrums gave noserious cause for alarm, but her mind showed signs ofbeing unhinged before she was thirty. She rarelyseemed to know what she was saying or doing, withthe result that an excursion with her into society was anembarrassment. There are some letters written by herat this young age, now among the Buccleuch papers,which make no sense whatever unless one considersthem the ravings of a maniac. Poor Albemarle wasdriven to drink by the strain of it all, and died at the ageof thirty-five in 1688, when his wife had been mad forabout six years. Demented though she was, theDuchess was still a prize to be sought. There was noheir to the Albemarle fortune, a fact not lost on noblesuitors who lined up to make her happy, affecting toturn a blind eye to her goings-on. She was now living inseclusion, looked after by two ageing doctors and apair of conniving sisters, Mary and Sarah Wright. Shehad moreover descended to such depths of insanity that

she made it known she would not deign to consider anysecond husband unless he was a crowned head.Amazingly enough, there was a man whose greed wasso much greater than his pride as to allow him to woounder these conditions. Ralph Montagu, a relation ofthe Manchester family, presented himself to the madDuchess as the Emperor of China, was accepted byher to gratify the dying wish of her father Newcastle,and was married to her in a ceremony befitting her newrank. Everyone involved took part in the deception,and to her dying day she thought she was Empress ofChina and was served on the knee accordingly.

No sooner was Ralph established in the Empress'sPalace (re named Montagu House, which is now theBritish Museum), than he petitioned the King, WilliamIII, to grant him a dukedom in a truly grovelling letter.In due time, he was created Duke of Montagu, whichincidentally, though she did not know it, made ElizabethCavendish a double duchess, the first of three womenso distinguished in our peerage history (the other twobeing Elizabeth Gunning - Hamilton and Argyll, andLouise von Alten - Manchester and Devonshire).

The new marriage produced nothing but trouble for

the Duke of Montagu. A less determined man mightwell have collapsed under the weight of endlesslawsuits concerning the Albemarle property, but hesimply bribed his witnesses to perjure themselves inorder that he might hang on to the £7000 a year whichwas his due from the Duchess. Since no one had seenher for years, it was bruited that she had died and thatMontagu was concealing her death from the world sothat his ill-gotten gains might continue. He waseventually obliged by special Act of Parliament toproduce her in public. Meanwhile, she was declared alunatic, unable to manage her affairs, and removed to ahouse where she could be looked after more carefully."Only by dint of the most cunning artifices was sheinduced to transfer the seat of her imperial throne fromBloomsbury to Clerkenwell."3

Not before having the last laugh, however. The Dukeof Montagu, for all his cunning, was not clever enoughto outlive her. He died in 1709, prompting a reflectionwhich must have been shared by many. "For my partI'm apt to think he could have foreseen, or ratherbelieved at what a distance this present world and hewould soon have been, he for the honour sake of his

family would discreetly have knock'd her Ladyship onthe head in good time."4

She lived to the age of eighty, though she waspopularly believed to be ninety-six when she died.

To go back one generation in the Albemarle line, onefinds that the 1st Duke, General George Monck, alsomade a curious marriage. While he was a prisoner inthe Tower of London in 1646, he made theacquaintance of a common slattern called AnneClarges, who was occasionally employed at the prisonas visiting sempstress. It was in such a capacity, nodoubt, that she came into contact with the Duke, andbefore long he made her his mistress as well. Thedaughter of a farrier in the Strand, sister of anapothecary, and wife of a milliner, Anne was engagedin the selling of perfumes and wash-balls. By allaccounts, her sweet-smelling employment did little toalleviate the unwholesomeness of her person. She waspopularly known as "Dirty Bess" and Pepys called her,in a relatively kind moment, a "plain, homely dowdy"or, less tolerantly, "the veryest slut and drudge and thefoulest worde that can be spoken of a woman almost".

After his release from prison, the Duke and Anne

lived together as man and wife for about seven years,eventually marrying on 23rd January 1653, presumablybecause she was pregnant. She gave birth toChristopher Monck, the 2nd Duke of Albemarle, in anattic over a tailor's shop seven months later.

To say that she did not fit easily into the aristocraticlife would be an understatement. Everyone wasappalled. Clarendon wrote that the Duke was "cursed,after long familiarity, to marry a woman of the lowestextraction, the least wit, and less beauty". Pepysnick named her "the Monkey Duchess", and agreedthat beauty was not among her attributes; she was "adamned ill-looked woman". After dining with thecouple, he went home to write of "dirty dishes, and anasty wife at table, and bad meat".6 She was alsocommonly sus pected of avarice and extortion. Inshort, Anne Clarges had positively nothing torecommend her; her vulgar habits and her ignorancebrought derision upon the Duke.

Worse was to follow. Her first husband, the milliner,was a man called Thomas Radford, whom she marriedin 1633, when she was seventeen. It now appearedthat there was no evidence whatever to indicate that he

was dead, as she claimed. If this were true, then hermarriage to Albemarle was null and void, and her sonChristopher, the 2nd Duke, was a bastard. All thisaffected the Duke of Montagu rather closely, because ifChristopher Monck was illegitimate, then his madduchess wife would not be entitled to the Albermarlefortune, and Montagu's dreadful marriage would havebeen in vain. None of the questions had been raiseduntil both dukes of Albermarle were safely dead, buteventually the whole matter had to be aired in a noisytrial before Lord Chief Justice Holt on the King'sBench. Several witnesses were brought forward totestify that they had seen Thomas Radford after hisalleged death, but as no one could pro duce him in theflesh the jury decided that "Dirty Bess" had legallybecome Duchess of Albemarle after all.The dukedom has been extinct since 1689; there is anearldom ofAlbemarle, dating from 1696, whichcontinues in the Keppel family, descendants of WilliamIll's friend who supplanted Bentinck.

Anne Clarges was by no means the only working-class girl to become a duchess. We have seen beforethat many a duke has felt an irresistible attraction

towards ladies of what they would call "low birth",sometimes resulting in the most unlikely marriages.Often such wives have been chosen from among theranks of actresses, such as Harriot Mellon, whobecame Duchess of St Albans in 1827, May Yohe in1894, who would have become Duchess of Newcastlebut for her divorce, May Etheridge - Duchess ofLeinster in 1922 (mar ried 1913), and Marianne deMalkhazouny - Duchess of Leeds in 1933 and livingtoday. Rarely have these marriages proved successfulbut a romatic exception is offered by the example ofLavinia Fenton and the Duke of Bolton in the eighteenthcentury.

The 3rd Duke of Bolton (1685-1754) had been asingle-minded turbulent youth even at school,disobedient of authority and eager to follow his ownideas and inclinations in the face of what was expectedof him in the way of ducal behaviour. He did his duty inmarrying a pleasant and virtuous woman, but he did nothappen to like her, and was not about to pretend thathe did. "My Lord made her an early confession of hisaversion", wrote Lady Mary Montague in 1714. Hethen embarked on a life as a handsome libertine about

town, until one day he went to see The Beggar'sOpera and fell irre vocably in love with the leadingactress, Lavinia Fenton.Lavinia was a pretty little Cockney girl, the illegitimatedaughter of Mrs Fenton by a man called Beswick, whodisappeared from view. Her parents ran a coffee houseat Charing Cross, frequented by habituSs of thetheatre, called "humming beaux", who were charmed bythe ease with which Lavinia would entertain themsinging songs from the shows they loved. Her beautifulvoice and perfect pitch soon brought her to publicattention and eventually on to the stage in 1726, in TheBeaux' Stratagem. She was an immediate success."She became the talk of the coffee houses, the mostcelebrated toast in town. Her face, her form, her grace,her voice, her archness, her simplicity, were laudedalike on all hands."7 On 29th January 1728 she createdthe part of Polly Peachum in The Beggar's Opera, andwas thereafter the rage. The theatre was crowdedevery night. Lavinia Fenton was more famous than theopera itself. Admirers guarded her nightly on her walkhome from the theatre. Her portrait appeared on ladies'fans. It was not that her voice was particularly well-

trained or operatically pure, but her style and charmcaught the imagination. Known to her fans as "PrettyPolly"., she played inThe Beggar's Opera sixty-twotimes, giving her final performance on 19th June 1728,after which she retired from the stage, at the age oftwenty.

The reason for her sudden decision was no secret.She had been wooed and won by the forty-three-year-old gallant who watched her from his box night afternight, the Duke of Bolton. That same year they ranaway together, and she spent the next twenty-threeyears as his mistress, with an annual settlement fromhim of £400. They had three sons, none of whom couldinherit the dukedom, being illegiti mate, and they neverceased to be happy. Her conversation, wit, anddiscreet conduct were much admired. Four weeks afterhis estranged wife died in 1751, he made LaviniaDuchess of Bolton in a ceremony at Aix-de-Provence.He died in 1754, leaving everything to "my dear andwell-beloved wife", having made generous settlementson his family during his lifetime. Lavinia died in 1760.The dukedom passed to his brothers and nephew,finally becoming extinct in 1794.

Much less fortunate was the marriage made by the

Duke of Kings ton with Elizabeth Chudleigh in 1796,eventually giving rise to the most notorious aristocraticscandal of the eighteenth century. Eliza beth Chudleighstarted life in misfortune. The poor daughter of ColonelThomas Chudleigh, Lieutenant-Governor of ChelseaHos pital, who died when she was six, she left Londonwith no prospects of improvement. As she grew intoadolescence, she became aware that her one capitalwas her beauty. Her first love affair is said to haveoccurred when she was fifteen years old. When shewas twenty, she was noticed by the Earl of Bath, whotook an interest in her and brought her back to London,securing for her an appointment as Maid of Honour toAugusta, Princess of Wales. An early instance of herimpudence and wit is afforded by the story of herresponse to the Princess who saw fit to reproachElizabeth for her flirting. As the Princess was at the timeengaged in a clandestine affair with Lord Bute,Elizabeth Chudleigh was not ready to acceptblandishments from that quarter. "Votre AltesseRoyale sait que chacune a son gout," she said.

The lustful Duke of Hamilton, then nineteen, fell inlove with her on sight, but had to leave almostimmediately for the obligatory grand tour of Europe. Hewrote to her regularly from the continent, intend ing tomake her his duchess on his return, but his letters wereinter cepted and never delivered to her. Faced withwhat he thought was deliberate discouragement, hisardour cooled. He afterwards married ElizabethGunning.

She, meanwhile, thinking Hamilton hadbetrayed his word, married someone elsein an attack of peevishness. AtWinchester races, she had met AugustusHervey, son of Lord Hervey andgrandson of the Earl of Bristol, and on asudden impulse they married secretly atLainston chapel on 4th August 1744. Thereason for the secrecy was simple: theywere both poor, and she could not affordto lose her position as Maid of Honour.The cat was nearly out of the bag whenshe gave birth to a boy in 1746, baptisedin Chelsea as Henry Augustus, son ofAugustus Hervey; the child lived only afew weeks. Even this she contrivedsomehow to keep secret. Later that year,she and Augustus separated once and

for all, both conveniently forgetting thatthey were husband and wife.

At the court of Princess Augusta, "Miss Chudleigh"continued to flaunt convention with lewd speech andfrankly enticing behaviour. In a less permissive age shewould have been quickly dismissed. She "concentratedher rhetoric into swearing, and dressed in a style next"door to nakedness".8 Not surprisingly, men clusteredaround her in a heat of aroused libido, to which hervulgar ways acted as a spur of extra spice. The Dukeof Ancaster wanted to marry her, even George IImade no bones about his love for her; the King madeher mother housekeeper at Windsor, and gave her anallowance from his personal funds.

Suddenly, the whole farcical kaleidoscope made adesperate shift when Augustus Hervey came closer toinheriting the earldom of Bristol. Elizabeth thought itwould be wise to protect her future by establishing themarriage in the registry at Lainston, without yet makingit public knowledge. This she did in 1759, at the sametime taking the Duke of Kingston as her lover. It was anotorious liaison, as her behaviour was becoming more

and more objectionable, her language richer. She gavesplendid balls, and fell down drunk as often as not intheir midst. Her life was one of sordid dissipation.

Augustus Hervey was now wanting to marry again.Before he could divorce Elizabeth, however, he had toprove that he was married to her, in which endeavourshe was by no means willing to cooperate. She wasnevertheless in a quandary. She did not want thescandal of a divorce, but she did want to be free ofHervey so that she could marry the Duke of Kingston.The pair of them agreed therefore that she should bringa suit of jactitation against him, to which he wouldmake a merely token defence. This was to say thatshe; would sue him for having falsely boasted of amarriage in such a way as to make people think thatsuch a marriage had taken place, and thereby bringdisrepute upon her. The case was heard before theconsistory court, she taking the oath that she was notmarried, and the court accordingly declared her aspinster on nth February 1769, at the same timeimposing silence on Hervey. On 8th March following,Elizabeth Chudleigh became Duchess of Kingston.

Four years later her duke died (on 23rd September

1773) leaving her his real estate for life and his personalpossessions in per petuity, on one condition - that sheshould remain a widow. This was renderedembarrassingly difficult for her to comply with by virtueof her first marriage, which refused to be swept aside.Hervey wished to reopen the case, and now the Dukeof Kingston's family wished to stalk its prey. TheDuke's nephew, Mr Evelyn Meadows, charged theDuchess with bigamy, causing a bill of indictment to bedrawn up against her. On hearing this she hurred backfrom Rome (getting some money for the journey at thepoint of a gun from a terrified bank manager) toprepare her defence. Nothing went right for her. Withconsummate theatrical timing, the Earl of Bristol thendied, and Augustus Hervey succeeded his brother inthe title, making Miss Chudleigh a genuine Countess aswell as a bogus Duchess. The combination of eventsdrew all eyes upon her, satirists lampooned her, andher trial was awaited with predatory glee by thegossips.

The five-day proceedings began on 15th April 1776,in West minster Hall before the peers. During thecourse of a fascinating trial, evidence was given by

Anne Craddock, who had for long been in theDuchess's service, by the widow of the Lainston rectorwho had performed the first marriage service, andvarious others. Every thing was laid bare to publicscrutiny, the wedding, the birth and death of a child, theregistration of marriage to Hervey, and details ofcharacter. Elizabeth came out of the ordeal very badly.The case was clearly proven against her, and was dulyfound guilty of bigamy by a unanimous verdict of thepeers; the scene in which the peers rose from theirseats, one after the other, monotonously intoning theone word "Guilty", is justly famous. The spuriousDuchess would have had the palm of her hand burnt forthe offence, had she not pleaded the privilege of herrank. She was allowed to keep her fortune, the fruit ofher duplicity.

Augustus Hervey, Earl of Bristol, died in 1779. Thedukedom of Kingston had been extinct since 1773. Asfor Elizabeth, now legally Countess of Bristol, she wentto St Petersburg, where she bought a large estate,which she called "Chudleigh", and later to France.Wherever she wandered, scandal followed in herwake. Her manners remained coarse, her habits

disgusting, to the end. She died in Paris in 1788, at theage of sixty-eight. She will always have the distinc tionof having shocked an unshockable age.

Half a century later, in a less tolerant age, a womanrisen "from the ranks" as it were, could not expect toslide so easily into the top drawer. Values weredifferent, and not necessarily better. One such womanwas Elizabeth Russell, daughter of a market gardener,Robert Russell, of Burmiston, Yorkshire. She has beendescribed as a washer woman,9 with language andmanners to match; slarig was her only means ofintelligible communication. After having been thediscarded mistress of the Duke of Bedford, and amistress of Mr Coutts the banker (Harriot Mellon's firsthusband), she became Duchess of Cleveland on 27thJuly 1813, at the age of thirty-six. She was the Duke'ssecond wife; he, incidentally, was Duke of Cleveland ofa new creation, vested in the Vane family, but he wasrelated to the wicked Barbara Villiers who bore thesame title - she was his great- great-aunt.Contemporaries professed to be astonished that heshould choose this infamous title, a bastard descentfrom an unpleasant adultress, rather than his own

ancient and distinguished title of Darlington, in whichname he already held an earldom. Anyway, the newDuchess of Cleveland, who addressed her husband as"Niffy- Naffy", and in later years was to refer to her sonLord Harry Vane as "My 'arry", was presented to adubious world just emerging from the licentious age ofthe Georgians, dusting their morals and read justingtheir values.

Creevey called her a "brazen-faced Pop", andthought the marriage "the wickedest thing I ever heardof", though he confessed she was something of amiracle to have pulled it off.10 She even managed toretain the allowance from her lover the Duke ofBedford after her wedding. People tolerated herimpudence with a stretched smile for the sake of herlikeable and generous husband, whose wine-glasseswere made without a stem, to oblige you to drink eachglass at a throw.

She died a respectable old lady in 1861, in anelegant house in Grosvenor Square. Her husband'sthree sons each succeeded him in the title, but all diedwithout male issue, so that the title was extinct with the4th Duke of Cleveland in 1891. The present Lord

Barnard is the modern representative of the Vanes, andlives still in their ancestral home, Raby Castle; anotherbranch is represented by Vane-Tempest-Stewart,Marquess of Londonderry, until 1987 at neighbouringWynyard.

An amusing contrast to the washerwoman Duchesswas a later Duchess of Cleveland (1792-1883) whowas so intolerant of any departure from etiquette thatguests went in fear of saying the wrong thing at thewrong time. She was stiff and precise in her speech,and positively loathed the use of Christian names. Onlyone person dared to tease her, and that, notsurprisingly, was a son of the Duke of Richmond, LordHenry Lennox. He used to delight in irritating the oldwoman by using the latest slang, which made her wincewith displeasure. "May I enquire, Lord Henry," shesaid, "whether, when you have completely mastered thelanguage of the servants' hall, you mean to adopt itsmanners as well?""

There is one dukedom which, thoughextinct by reason of attainder, is still usedby the descendants of the grantee. This isthe dukedom of Berwick, bestowed byJames II on his illegimate son by Arabella

Churchill - James Fitzjames (1670-1734).

The Duke of Berwick had anextraordinary career. With his grandfatherCharles I's handsome features, and theresilience of the Churchills, he was set fora brilliant military career in England. But hefled to France with his father, and in 1691joined the French Army. (He had, as ithappens, been born in France.) By 1693 hehad risen as far as lieutenant-general, andin 1703 he became a natural isedFrenchman, in order to be eligible for theultimate accolade of Marshal of France,which he received in 1706. In all, he servedin twenty-nine campaigns, andcommanded in fifteen of them, on theopposite side to his uncle, the Duke ofMarlborough. He fought one battle,Almanza in 1706, "the only battle recordedin which an English general at the head ofa French army defeated an English armycommanded by a Frenchman".12 (TheFrenchman was Henri de Ruvigny.)

Berwick's end was ignominous; his headwas blown off by a cannon-ball, producingnational grief in France, where he was a

hero, and relief in England, where he wasan embarrassment. His title had alreadybeen attainted in 1695, a fact which has inno way deterred his descendants.

His son by the first marriage was madeDuke of Liria in Spain, and a son by hissecond marriage was granted the dukedomof Fitz james in France. There weredescendants of both lines in bothcountries, but none in England, thoughthe title was originally of English bloodroyal. The dukedom of Fitzjames has sincedied out, but the Duke of Liria continues,vested in a Spanish family which prefers touse its superior title of Duke of Alba, and,on occasion, Duke of Berwick. The "Dukeof Berwick" in Victoria's time was allowedto use that title on a visit to Windsor, andthe late 17 th Duke, a personal friend ofWinston Churchill, liked to be known as"Duque di Berwick y Alba".

The titles are currently held by Maria RosarioCayetana Fitzjames Stuart y Silva, Duchess of Alba,Duchess of Liria and Xerica, Duchess of Montoro,Duchess of Arjona, Duchess of Hijar, Duchess of

Olivares, and with no less than forty-three separateother titles, some irresistibly musical, like Marchionessof San Leonardo and La Lota, and Countess ofMiranda del Castanor. She lists Duchess of Berwick asher second title, apparently in disregard of itsnon- existence. Were the attainder ever to be reversed(as it is in the power of the Queen to do), the titlewould legally go to the heir male, Fernando AlfonsoFitzjames Stuart y Saavedra, Duke of Penaranda deBracamonte.

There is even a suspicion that the 1st Duke wasnever really attainted at all, except verbally, whichwould not be conclusive; in this case, the claim mightwell be upheld.13

We were reminded how abruptly a title may ceasedue to failure in the male line with the death in 1963 ofJohn Francis Godolphin Osborne, 11th Duke of Leeds(1901-1963), and the final closing of a story whichstarted with a show of gallantry.

A successful merchant and clothworker calledWilliam Hewett had one of the houses on old LondonBridge. His infant daughter Anne was being fondled byher nurse, when the careless woman dropped her into

the Thames below. A young man was passing, sawwhat hap pened, and leapt immediately into the currentto save the child. His name was Richard Osborne ofAshford, Kent, and as a result of this gesture, wastaken on by Hewett as apprentice clothworker. Aworking-class lad, he may never have had theopportunity to train for such a position were it not forhis impulsive dive. Eventually he married the daughter.As Hewett had no sons, all his ambition wasconcentrated on his son-in-law, who he intended wouldone day benefit from his success. The eldest son ofRichard Osborne and Anne Hewett was Sir EdwardOsborne, Lord Mayor of London in 1583, and twogenerations later this unknown family had reached thedukedom, with the most famous of the Osbornes,known to history as "Danby".

Danby (1632-1712) was a wily individual, one ofthose clever politicians England produces from time totime, able to manipulate supporters and seduceobjectors. He is generally thought to have beendishonest, in so far as he accepted bribes and indulgedin forgery, but such habits did not make him exceptionalin Restoration England. From 1673 to 1678 he was

Lord High Treasurer of England, and Chief Minister toCharles II, during which time he virtually governed thecountry single-handed and had to grapple with thebalance of payments headaches which have becomesuch a feature of modern political life. Although he wasin control, he exercised much diplomatic skill infostering the impression that the King took all decisions.The events leading up to his impeachment are toocomplex to warrant examination here, but that heshould be charged with treason was manifestly absurd,for he had the King's written approval for his actions.None the less, he languished five years in the Tower,his cleverness for once deserting him, without reachingtrial. The impeachment was later reversed, and hereturned to the peers. Danby was active in theRevolution, being one of the signatories who invitedWilliam of Orange to assume the crown, and was dulyrewarded by a grateful William III. The Earl of Danbybecame Marquess of Carmarthen in 1689 and Duke ofLeeds in 1694.

The Osborne descendants neverreached the heights of power attained byDanby. The 7th Duke of Leeds has thedistinction of being one of the first

members of the peerage to choose anAmerican heiress for a wife, as early as1828, when the United States of Americahad been in existence barely fifty years. Hewas then known as Marquess ofCarmarthen, and his wife, nee LouisaCaton, of Maryland, was known as LadyHervey, by virtue of her first marriage. Shewas one of three Caton sisters who allmarried into the English aristocracy, theother two becoming Lady Wellesley andLady Staf ford. Lady Holland's horrifiedcomments are preserved. "The marri age ofLord Carmarthen and Lady Hervey hastaken place", she wrote. "The Duke ofLeeds bears it quietly on account of theDuchess for whom he dreads agitation. Heis, however, deeply mortified; and hisfriends have no consolation to offer butthe improbability of her having anychildren. The second son is a fine youngman, and just what such a father would beproud of; so if these consolations arevalid, all will be right. They say LadyHervey wanted six qualifi cations, youth,beauty, character, fortune, birth, sense."14

The Dukes of Leeds were on the wholegood men. At a time when some seats in

the House of Commons were still in thegift of the aristocracy, and pressure couldbe exerted on others, it is unusual to hearsaid, as the Duke of Leeds said in 1848, "Ihave particularly assured my tenants that Iwill not in any way interfere with theiropinions in the choice of theirrepresentatives."15

It is interesting also that the Leedshouse was the heirs of line to the dukedomof Marlborough; in the event of the maleSpencer line, descended from the Earl ofSunderland who married a Churchilldaughter, failing, the title would pass byterms of the patent to the heirs of anotherdaughter, who became Duchess of Leeds.

To such an inheritance John FrancisOsborne ("Jack") succeeded in 1927; itwas not a spectacular history, but ;inhonourable record of quiet public serviceand a decent acceptance of the role oflanded aristocrats. The family home wasHornby Castle in Yorkshire. Jack was theson of the 10th Duke and Lady KatherineLambton, was educated at Eton andJesus College, Cambridge, zjid moved inliterary and theatrical circles. He was a

shy man, shunning public attention, andmaking no capital of his ducal rank. Theonly occasion when he was pursued bythe press was when he sold the Goyapor trait of Wellington at Sotheby's in1961, for £140,000.

In 1960 the Duke had suffered the amputation of aleg, made necessary by a disease which attacked theartery. The following year his other leg was removed,and he spent the last months in acute pain. He died on26th July 1963, leaving a daughter by the second ofthree marriages, Lady Camilla, the last representativeof gallant Richard Osborne and the last person to bearhis name. She is now married to the journalist, NigelDempster.

The dukedom did in fact pass briefly to a cousinliving in Rome, Sir Francis d'Arcy Godolphin Osborne,aged seventy-nine, who for a few months revelled inbeing a duke, until he too died early in 1964, reducingthe number of dukedoms of the realm to the presenttotal of twenty-six disparate individuals, united, in ademocratic age, by the one dubious remaining privilegeof superior rank.

references

1 . D.N.B.2. Timbs, English Eccentrics and Eccentricities,

Vol. I, p. 1 1 1 ; Gentleman's Magazine, 1829, pp.558-60.

3. Bernard Falk The Way of the Montagues, p1 5 1 .

4. Ann Hadley to Abigail Harley, 16th March, 1710,in Portland Papers, quoted in E. F. Ward,Christopher Monck, Duke of Albermarle, pp.349-50.

5. Pepys Diary, 8th March 1661; 25th Februaryi656.

6. ibid., 9th December 1665; 4th April 1667.7. D.N.B.8. Complete Peerage.9. Augustus Hare, In MySolitary Life, p. 149. 1 o.Creevey Papers, pp. 86-7,92.1 1 . Leaves from the Notebooks of Lady Dorothy

Nevill, p. 36.

12. D.N.B.13. Complete Peerage, Vol. XII, Part ii, Appendix

H.14. Lady Holland to Her Son, p. 82.F. M. L. Thompson, English Landed Society in theNineteenth Century, p. 201.Bibliographical notes

a. peerage history and genealogy

The Complete Peerage, editedby G. E. Cockayne. Burke'sPeerage, Baronetage andKnightage. Collin's Peerage,edited by Brydges. Debrett'sPeerage.Valentine Heywood, BritishTitles (1953). J. H. Round,Studies in the Peerage (1901).

B. historical backgroundDictionary of National Biography (D.N.B.

in reference notes). Reports of theHistorical Manuscripts Commission (Hist.MSS. Comm.)

T. B. Macaulay, History of England (1906).

G. Burnett, History of His Own Time (1897-1900).

H. Walpole, Memoirs of the Reign ofGeorge II (1846). H. Walpole, Memoirs ofthe Reign of George III (1845). Broughton,Recollections of a Long Life (1909).

Reresby, Memoirs (1735).

C. Greville, Memoirs, ed Roger Fulford &Lytton Strachey, 8 Vols., (1938).

Sir N. W. Wraxall, Historical Memoirs of My OwnTime, 1 vol. (1904).

Sir N. W. Wraxall, Posthumous Memoirs, 2vols. (1836). J. Bateman, GreatLandowners (1883). G. Bebbington,London Street Names (1972).

F. M. L. Thomson, English Landed Society in theNineteenth Century (1963).

D. Sutherland, The Landowners (1968).Junius, Letters, 2 vols. (1797).

James Pope-Hennessey, Queen Mary(1959). Samuel Pepys, Diary, ed. Wheatley(1893-9).

T. Crcevcy, Papers, ed. Maxwell (1903). T. Creevey,Life and Times, ed. Gore (1934).H. Walpole, Correspondence, Yale edition, ed. W. S.Lewis. (Cun ningham edition of 1891 is used wherespecified in notes). J. Evelyn, Diary, ed. E. S. de Beer(1955).

c. other memoirs, anecdotes, gossip

Journal of Elizabeth Lady Holland, ed. Earl of Ilchester(1908).Augustus Hare, The Years with Mother (1952).Augustus Hare, In My Solitary Life (1953).Burke's Romantic Records of the Aristocracy (1850).J. Timbs, English Eccentrics and Eccentricities(1866).

W. M. Thackeray, The Four Georges.Anita Leslie, Edwardians in Love (1972).E. F. Benson, As We Were (1930).The Duchess of Bedford and James Frere, Now theDuchesses (1964).Lord Hervey and His Friends, ed. Earl of Ilchester(1950). Lady Holland to Her Son, ed. Earl ofIlchester (1946). Leaves from the Notebooks ofLady Dorothy Nevill, ed. R. Nevill (1910).7th Duke of Manchester, Court and Society fromElizabeth to Anne (1864).9th Duke of Manchester, My Candid Recollections(1932).Lord Ernest Hamilton, The Halycon Era (1933).Chips, the diaries of Sir Henry Ghannon, ed. R. R.James, (1967).Sylvester Douglas, Lord Glenbervie, Diary (1928).Emma, Lady Brownlow, Slight Reminiscences of aSeptuagenarian(1867).5th Duke of Sutherland, Looking Back (1957).6th Duke of Portland, Men, Women and Things(1937).

E. Walford, Old and New London, 5 vols. (1908).Harriette Wilson, Memoirs (1924).Lady Frances Balfour, Ne Oblifiscaris (1930).Frances, Countess of Warwick, Afterthoughts (1931).Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan, The Glitter and the Gold(1953).Margot Asquith, Autobiography (1962).Thomas Raikes, Journal (1856). D. FAMILY HISTORIES There are many books not mentioned here whichnonetheless find their way into the list of acknowledgedreferences at the end of each chapter. The following isa list of suggested reading for those who wish to delvedeeper into individual families.1 . Fitzalan-Howard, Duke of Norfolk

Neville Williams, Thomas Howard FourthDuke of Norfolk (1964).Melvyn Tucker, The Life of Thomas Howard,Second Duke of Norfolk (1964). A Duke ofNorfolk Notebook.

2. Seymour, Duke of SomersetHarold St Maur, Annals of the Seymours(1902).

3. Montagu-Douglas-Scott, Duke of Buccleuch& Queensbury Sir W. Fraser, The Scottsof Buccleuch (1878). Lord George Scott,Lucy Walter, Wife or Mistress (1947).Elizabeth d'Oyley, James Duke ofMonmouth (1938).

4 . Gordon-Lennox, Duke of Richmond & Gordon &Lennox

H. Forneron, Louise de Kerouaille, Duchess ofPortsmouth (1887).Jeanine Delpech, Duchess ofPortmouth (1953). Earl ofMarch, A Duke and HisFriends (1911).

5 . Beauclerk, Duke of St AlbansP. Cunningham, The Story of Nell Gwynn(1903).P. Dewar and D. Adamson, The House of NellGwynn

(1974)-6 . FitzRoy, Duke of Grafton

H. Noel William, Rival Sultanas (1915). ArthurBryant, King Charles II (1931). Osmond Airy,Charles II (1904). Bernard Falk, The RoyalFitzRoys (1950).

7 . Russell, Duke of BedfordJ. H. Wiffen, Memoirs of the House of Russell(1833). Christopher Trent, The Russells (1966).Gladys Scott Thompson, The Russells inBloomsbury (1940). Greater London Council,Survey of London, Vols. 35 and 36. GeorgianaBlakiston, Lord William Russell and His Wife(I972).Lord John Russell, William, Lord Russell(1820). 12th Duke of Bedford, The Years ofTransition (1949). 13th Duke of Bedford, ASilver-plated Spoon (1959). 13th Duke ofBedford, The Flying Duchess (1968). GladysScott Thompson, Two Centuries of FamilyHistory(1930) -

8 . Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire

Francis Bickley, The Cavendish Family (1911).Vera Foster, Two Duchesses (1898). H. Leach,The 8th Duke of Devonshire (1904). DorothyStuart, Dearest Bess (1955). Georgiana,extracts from Correspondence of GeorgianaDuchess of Devonshire (1955).

9 . Cavendish-Bentinck, Duke of PortlandA. S. Turberville, History of Welbeck Abbey(1939). Marion E. Grew, William Bentinck andWilliam III (1924). Theodore Besterman, TheDruce-Portland Case (1935).

1 0 . Somerset, Duke of BeaufortHoratia Durant, The Somerset Sequence (1951).Horatio Durant, Henry 1st Duke of Beaufortand his DuchessMary (1953).

1 1 . Spencer-Churchill, Duke of MarlboroughWinston S. Churchill, Marlborough (1933).Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan, The Glitter and theGold

(i953)-Mrs A. Colville, Duchess Sarah (1904).

1 2 . Wellesley, Duke of WellingtonElizabeth Longford, Wellington, 2 vols. (1969,1972). Philip Guedalla, The Duke (1931).7th Duke of Wellington, Conversations of theDuke of Well ington with George WilliamChad (1956).

1 3 . Percy, Duke of NorthumberlandE. H. de Fonblanque, Annals of the House ofPercy (1887).M. M. Merrick, Thomas Percy, yth Earl(1949).Earl Percy, Letters from Boston and New York(1902).Earl of Northumberland, Advice to His Son(1930).8th Duke of Northumberland, The Shadow onthe Moor

Index Abercorn, James Hamilton, 8th Earl of

(1712-1789), 326-7 Abercorn, John Hamilton,Marquess of(1756-1818), 327-30 Abercorn, James Hamilton,

1st Duke of(1811-1885), 330 Abercorn, Duchess of (Lady

Louisa Russell, wife of 1st Duke), 331-2 Abercorn,James Hamilton, 2nd Duke of(1838-1913), 331 Abercorn, James Hamilton, 4th

Duke of (1904- ), 21, 309, 311, 330, 331-2 Alba,Duchess of, 419 Albemarle, George Monele, 1stDuke of(1608-1670), 412 Albemarle, Duchess of (Anne

Clarges,wife of 1st Duke), 412 Albemarle, Christopher

Monck, 2ndDuke of (1653-1688), 411, 413 Albemarle,

Elizabeth Cavendish,

Duchess of, and Duchess of Montagu (1654-1734),411-12 Argyll, Archibald Campbell, Marquess of,and 8th Earl of (1597-1661), 284, 285, 342-3Argyll, Archibald Campbell, 9th Earl of(1629-1685), 785-6 Argyll, Archibald Campbell,

1st Duke of( -1703), 286, 287 Argyll, John Campbell, 2nd

Duke of(1680-1743), 287-8 Argyll, Archibald Campbell,

3rd Duke of(1682-1761), 289 Argyll, John Campbell, 4th

Duke of(1693-1770), 289 Argyll, John Campbell, 5th

Duke of(1723-1806), 289 Argyll, Duchess of, wife of 5th

Duke,see Elizabeth Gunning Argyll, George Campbell, 6th

Duke of(1768-1839), 290-1 Argyll, George Campbell, 8th

Duke of(1823-1900), 291 Argyll, John Campbell, 9th

Duke of(1845-1914), 293 Argyll, Niall Campbell, 10th

Duke of(1872-1949), 293 Argyll, Ian Campbell, nth Duke

of (1903-1973). 23. 293-6Argyll, Duchess of (Louise Morris, 2ndwife of 1 ith Duke), 295 Argyll, Duchess of (MargaretSweeney,3rd wife of 1 ith Duke), 295-6, 358 Argyll, IanCampbell, 12th Duke of(>937- ), 15. 19. 283, 296-7 Argyll, Duchess of (wifeof 12th Duke), 296-7Arran, James Hamilton, 2nd Earl of(d. i575)> 3". 3>2 Arundel, Philip Howard, Earl of(i557-'595). 49 Arundel and Surrey, Philip JosephMary Fitzalan-Howard, Earl of (1879-1902), 56-7Atholl, John Murray, 1st Duke of(1660-1724), 286, 297-8 Atholl, James Murray, 2ndDuke of(1690-1764), 298 Atholl, John Murray, 3rd Duke of(1729-1774), 299 Atholl, Duchess of (CharloeseMurray,wife of 3rd Duke), 299 Atholl, John Murray, 4thDuke of(i755-'83o), 299 Atholl, John Murray, 5th Duke of

(1778-1846), 299-300 Atholl, John Murray, 8thDuke of,"Bardie" (1871-1942), 301-2 Atholl, Duchess of(Katherine Ramsay, 1874-1960, wife of 8th Duke),301-3 Atholl, James Murray, 9th Duke of,(1879-1957), 303 Atholl, Iain Murray, 10th Duke of,(I93I- )» 15, 19. 90. 298, 304-5 Audley, Hugh(1577-1662), 374-5 Aylesford, Lady, 246-7Beauchamp, George Seymour, Viscount(1725-1744), 66, 259 Beauclerk, Topham (1739-1780), 122 Beaufort, Henry Somerest, 1st Duke of(1629-1700), 214-15 Beaufort, Henry Somerset, 2ndDuke of(1684-1714), 215 Beaufort, Henry Somerset, 3rdDuke of(1707-1746), 216 Beaufort, Duchess of (FrancesScudamore, wife of 3rd Duke), 216-17

Beaufort, Henry Somerset, 6th Duke of, 218Beaufort, Henry Somerset, 7th Duke of

(1792-1853), 217-21, 276 Beaufort, HarrySomerset, 8th Duke of, "The Blue Duke" (1824-1899),222-3, 228Beaufort, Duchess of (Lady Georgiana

Curzon, wife of 8th Duke), 222-3 Beaufort, HenrySomerset, 9th Duke of

(1847-1924), 212, 215, 226-7 Beaufort, HenrySomerset, 10th Duke of (1900- ), 16, 210-11, 212,227-30 Beaufort, David Somerset, 11 th Duke of, 9,230-1Beaufort, Duchess of (wife of 1 ith Duke), 230Bedford, John Russell, 1st Earl of

(1486-1555), 156-7, 165 Bedford, Francis Russell,2nd Earl of

(1527-1585), 158 Bedford, Edward Russell, 3rdEarl of

(1572-1627), 158 Bedford, Francis Russell, 4th Earlof

(1593-1641), 159, 165 Bedford, William Russell,1st Duke of

(1613-1700), 154-5, '58, 166 Bedford, WriothesleyRussell, 2nd Duke

of (1680-1711), 156, 158, 166 Bedford,Wriothesley Russell, 3rd Duke of

(1708-1732), 158-9 Bedford, John Russell, 4thDuke of

(1710-1771), 159-60 Bedford, Duchess of

(Gertrude Leveson- Gower, wife of 4th Duke), 163,164, 167 Bedford, John Russell, 5th Duke of, 162Bedford, John Russell, 6th Duke of, 163-4 Bedford,Francis Russell, 7th Duke of (1788-1861), 141, 146,160-1, 164 Bedford, William Russell, 8th Duke of

(1809-1872), Bedford, Hastings Russell, 9th Dukeof (1819-1891), 140-1, 146, 160-1, 164 Bedford,Duchess of (Adeline, wife of 10thDuke), 223 Bedford, Herbrand Russell, nth Duke of(1858-1940), 140, 141, 142-3, 147, 149, 161, 162,166, 167, 248 Bedford, Duchess of (Mary Tribe, wifeof 1 ith Duke, "The Flying Cuchess"),

146, 148-50, 161Bedford, Hastings Russell, 12th Duke of(1888-1953), 140, 141-6, 147-8, 164 Bedford, JohnRussell, 13th Duke of (1917- ), 14, 15, 19, 23, 30,139,

147, 167-9Bedford, Duchess of (L-dia, 2nd wife of

13th Duke), 168, 280 Bentinck, Count Henry, 208Berwick, James Fitzjames, Duke of(1670-1734), 419 Blandford, Marchioness of (Lady

Bertha

Hamilton, "Goosie"), 246-7 Blandford,Marchioness of (Tina

Onassis, nee Athina Livanos), 250 Boleyn, QueenAnne, 39-40 Bolton, Charles Powlett, 3rd Duke of

(1685-1754), 414-15 Bolton, Duchess of, seeLavinia Fenton Bowmont and Cessford, Marquessof, 9> 309Boyle, Lady Dorothy, d. Earl ofBurlington, m. Earl of Euston, 114-6 Bridgwater,

Scoop Egerton, 1st Duke of(1681-1745), 408 Bridgwater, Francis Egerton, 3rd

Dukeof (1736-1803), 345, 408-10 Bridgwater, Francis

Egerton, 8th Earl of(1756-1829), 410-n Buccleuch, Anne Scott,

Countess of, afterwards Duchess of (1651—1732),86, 107Buccleuch, 1st Duke of, see Monmouth Buccleuch,Francis Scott, 2nd Duke of

(1694-1751), 107 Buccleuch, Duchess of (AlicePowell, 2nd

wife of 2nd Duke), 107 Buccleuch, Henry Scott, 3rdDuke of

(1746-1812), 107 Buccleuch, Walter FrancisMontagu- Douglas-Scott, 5th Duke of (1806-1884), 88, 106, 109-10, 326-7 Buccleuch, WalterMontagu-Douglas- Scott, 8th Duke of (1899-1973),110-2, 256

Buccleuch, Duchess of (Vreda Esther Lascelles, wifeof 8th Duke, "Mollie"), 26, hi

Buccleuch, Walter John Montagu- Douglas-Scott, 9thDuke of (!923- )» "4. l6> 3°> 100, 112-3, 369

Campbell, Lady Jeanne, 295 Cavendish, George(1500-1561), 173 Cavendish, Henry (1731-1810),176-7 Cavendish, Sir William (1505-1557), 173Chatelherault, dukedom of, 311, 320-1 Chudleigh,Elizabeth, see Duchess of

Kingston Churchill, Arabella (1648-1730?), 241,419Churchill, Lord Randolph (1849-1895), 246Churchill, Sir Winston (1620-1688), 241 Churchill, SirWinston (1874-1965), 19,

90, 237, 246, 248-9 Cleveland, Duchess of(mistress of Charles II), see Barbara VilliersCleveland, William Harry Vane, 1st

Duke of (1766-1842), 418 Cleveland, Duchess of(Elizabeth Russell,

2nd wife of 1st Duke), 418 Cleveland, Duchess of(Grace Lowther,

wife of 3rd Duke), 26, 418-419 Coutts, Harriot, seeDuchess of St Albans Coutts, Thomas (1735-1822),123-4,

182, 418 Crawford, 20th Earl of, 239

Danby, Earl of, see 1st Duke of Leeds Darling, Grace(1815-1842), 264-5 Davies, Alexander (d. 1665),375 Davies, Mary, Lady Grosvenor

(1665-1730), 374, 375-7 Devon, arl of, 30Devonshire, William Cavendish, 1st Earl

of(1552-1625), 173-4 Devonshire WilliamCavendish, 2nd Earl

of (1590-1628), 174 Devonshire, WilliamCavendish, 3rd

Earl of (1617-1684), 174 Devonshire, WilliamCavendish, 1st

Duke of (1640-1707), 174-5 Devonshire, WilliamCavendish, 2nd

Duke of (1673-1729), 175 Devonshire, William

Cavendish, 4thDuke of (1720-1764), 16, 176 Devonshire, William

Cavendish, 5th Duke of (1748-1811), 177-9, 183,187, 198Devonshire, Duchess of (GeorgianaSpencer, 1 st wife of 5th Duke, 179-87 Devonshire,Duchess of (formerly Lady Elizabeth Foster, 2nd wifeof 5th Duke), 183-7 Devonshire, William Cavendish,6th Duke of (1790-1858), 185, 187-8 Devonshire,William Cavendish, 7th

Duke of (1808-1891), 189 Devonshire, SpencerCompton Cavendish,

8th Duke of (1833-1908), 174, 189-92Devonshire, Duchess of (Louise von Alten, wife of 8thDuke), see Duchess of Manchester Devonshire,Edward Cavendish, 10th

Duke of (1895-1950), 192 Devonshire, AndrewCavendish, 1 ith Duke of (1920- ), 10, 16, 19, 173,193Devonshire, Duchess of (Debo Mitford,

wife of 1 ith Duke), 10, 193-4 Druce, AnnaMaria, 202-4 Druce, G. H., 204 Druce, T. C.,202-4, 206

Ellesmere, Francis Leveson-Gower, 1st Earl of(1800-1857), 345-6

Euston, George Fitzroy, Earl of(1715-1747), 114-7 Euston, Henry Fitzroy,

Earl of (1848-1912), 119-20, 225

Fenton, Lavinia, Duchess of Bolton,4I4-I5 Fenwick, Edward, 376 Fenwick, Lodowick,

376 Fife, Alexander Duff, 1st Duke of(1849-1912), 248, 367-70 Fife, Duchess of (H.R.H.

Princess Louise, Princess Royal, wife of 1st Duke),367-70Fife, Suo jure 2nd Duchess of, H.H.

Princess Alexandra (1891—1959), 368-9 Fife,James Carnegie, 3rd Duke of

(1929- ), 11.369 Fillol, Katherine, 67 Fitzgerald,Lord Desmond (1888-1916), 278Fitzgerald, Lord Edward (1763-1798),

272, 273-4 Fitzgerald, Lady Elizabeth (1528-1589),41, 271Fitzgerald, Maurice (d. 1176), 270 Flower, Joan,356-7 Flower, Margaret, 356-7 Flower, Philippa,356-7

Germain, Sir John (1650-1718), 50-51 Gordon,Jane, Duchess of, 25 Gower, Sir John Leveson-Gower, 1 st

Baron (1675-1709), 335 Gower, Sir Thomas(1605-1672), 335 Grafton, Henry Fitzroy, 1st Dukeof

(1663-1690), 90, 93, 95, 102 Grafton, CharlesFitzroy, 2nd Duke of

(1683-1757), 113-4 Grafton, Augustus HenryFitzroy, 3rd

Duke of (1735-1811), 16, 117-19 Grafton, CharlesFitzroy, 10th Duke of

(1892-1970), 120 Grafton, Hugh Fitzroy, nth Dukeof

(1919- )» 120 Graham, Marquess of (1935- ), 387,398Granby, John Manners, Marquess of

(1721-1770), 251-2, 356-7 Granby, Marquess of(1885-1894), 256-7 Granby, Marquess of (1959- ),358 Grosvenor, Gilbert le, 373 Grosvenor, Sir Robert,374 Grosvenor, Sir Thomas (d. 1700), 374,375Grosvenor, Richard Grosvenor, 1st Earl

(1731-1802), 377, 382 Grosvenor, Robert

Grosvenor, 2nd Earl(1767-1845), 377 Grosvenor, Lady, see MaryDavies Grosvenor, Earl (1951- ), 383, 384Gunning,Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton and Duchess ofArgyll (1734-1790), 289-90, 318-19, 412 Gunning,Maria, Countess of Coventry, 318Gw-nn, Nell (1650-1687), 83, 96-100, 103Hamilton, Lady Anne (d. of 9th Duke ofHamilton), 319 Hamilton, Lord Anne (1709-1748),sonof 4th Duke of Hamilton, 317 Hamilton, LadyCharlotte (d. of 9th Duke of Hamilton), see Duchessof Somerset Hamilton, James Hamilton, 1stMarquessof (d. 1604), 312 Hamilton, James Hamilton, 2ndMarquess of (1589-1625), 312, 392-3 Hamilton,James Hamilton, 1st Duke of(1606-1649), 23, 284, 312-4 Hamilton, WilliamHamilton, 2nd Dukeof (1616-1651), 314 Hamilton, Anne Hamilton,Suojure 3rd Duchess of (1636-1717), 314-15, 322Hamilton, James Douglas, 4th Duke of(1658-1712), 315-17 Hamilton, James Douglas, 5th

Duke of(1702-1743), 317 Hamilton, James Douglas, 6thDuke of(1724-1758), 317-18, 415 Hamilton, Duchess of(wife of 6th Duke),see Elizabeth Gunning Hamilton, James Douglas, 7thDuke of(1755"1769), 3J9 Hamilton, Douglas Douglas, 8thDuke of(1756-1799), 319 Hamilton, Archibald Douglas-Hamilton,9th Duketof (1740-1811), 319 Hami'ton, AlexanderDouglas-Hamilton, 10th Duke of (1767-1852), 319-20, 327 Hamilton, William Douglas-Hamilton,1 ith Duke of (1811-1863), 320 Hamilton, WilliamDouglas-Hamilton,12th Duke of (1845-1895), 320-2 Hamilton,Douglas Douglas-Hamilton, 14th Duke of (1903-1973). 322-4Hamilton, Angus Douglas-Hamilton, 15th Duke of(1938- ), 20, 90, 256, 311, 324-7 Hardwick,Elizabeth, "Bess of Hardwick"(1518-1608), 172-3 Hartington, William Cavendish,

Marquess of (1917-1944), 192 Hartington,Marchioness of (KathleenKenned-), 192 Hertford, George Seymour, 7thMarquess of, 78Hervey, Augustus (later Earl of Bristol),416-17 Hess, Rudolph, 322-4

Howard de Walden, Lord, 207 Howland,Lord (1962- ), 30

James, J. N. R., 379Innes, 28th Laird of, 306 Innes-Ker, LadySophia, 309Ker, Lady Essex, 305-6 Ker, John Bellenden, 306Ker, Harry, Lord Ker (d. 1647), son of 1st Earl ofRosburghe, 287, 305, 306 Ker, Jean, 305 Ker,Margaret, 306 Ker, Robert Hepburn, 306 Ker,Walter, 306 Kerouaille, Louisetde, Duchess of

Portsmouth (1649-1734), 83, 97-8, 101-5, 128Kildare, John Fitzthomas Fitzgerald, 1st Earltof (d.1316), 264, 270, 272 Kildare, Thomas Fitzgerald, 7thEarl of

(d. 1477), 270 Kildare, Gerald Fitzgerald, 8th Earlof

(1456-1513), 270 Kildare, Thomas F tzgerald, 1 othEarl of, "Silken Thomas" (1513-1537), 269, 271Kildare, George Fitzgerald, 16th Earl of

"The Fairy Earl" (1603-1660), 270, 272 Kildare,Gerald Fitzgerald, Marquess of

(1914- ), 280-1 Kingston, Evelyn Pierrepoint, 2ndDuke

of(1711-1773), 415-17 Kingston, ElizabethChudleigh, Duchess of(1726-1788), 415-17Lamb, Lady Caroline (1785-1828), 185 Law, SusanAdelaide ("Marchioness of

Blandford"), 245-6 Leeds, Thomas Osborne, 1stDuke of, Earl of Danby (1632-1712), 420-1 Leeds,Francis Osborne, 7th Duke of

(1798-1859), 421 Leeds, Duchess of (LouisaCaton), 421 Leeds, John Francis Godolphin Osborne,

1 ith Duke of (1901-1963), 420, 422 Leeds, Francisd'Arcy Godolphin Osborne,

12th Duke of, 422 Leinster, James Fitzgerald, 1stDuke of

(1722-1773), 270, 272-3 Leinster, Duchessof (Lady Emil-

Lennox, wife of 1st Duke), 273, 274-5 Leinster,tWill

am Fitzgerald, 2nd Dukeof (1749-1800), 274 Leinster, Augustus Frederick

Fitzgerald,3rd Duke of (1791-1874), 274-5 Leinster, CharlesWilliam Fitzgerald,

4th Duke of (i8i9-i88g), 276-7 Leinster, GeraldFitzgerald, 5th Duke of (1851-1893), 277Leinster, Maurice Fitzgerald, 6th Duke of

(1887-1922), 23, 278 Leinster, Edward Fitzgerald,7th Duke of

(1892- ), 14, 23, 264, 277-80 Leinster, Duchess of(Way Etheridge, 1 st

wife of 7th Duke), 278, 280 Leinster, Duchess of(2nd wife of 7th

Duke), 280 Leinster, Duchess of (Jessie Smithers,alias Denise Orme, 3rd wife of 7th Duke), 280Leinster, Duchess of (Vivien Conner, 4th

wife of 7th Duke, 280 Lennox, Lady Sarah, 26Leveson-Gower, Lady Elizabeth, 377 Lincoln,Edward Clinton, 1st Earl of

(1512-1585), 365 Loch, James,339Londonderry, Frances Anne, Marchioness

of, 270, 362-3 Londonderry, Alastair Vane-Tempest- Stewart, 9th Marquess of (1937- ), 418Lupus, Hugh, 373

Macduff, Lord, 11, 370 Mailer, Norman, 295Mallaby-Deeley, Sir Harry, 278-81 Manchester,Henry Montagu, 1st Earl of

(1563-1642), 400, 401 Manchester, EdwardMontagu, 2nd Earl

of (1602-1671), 398-400, 402 Manchester, RobertMontagu, 3rd Earl

of (1634-1682), 402 Manchester, Charles Montagu,1st Duke

of (1662-1722), 402 Manchester, William Montagu,2nd

Duke of (1700-1739), 402 Manchester, Duchess of(Belle Montagu,

wife of 2nd Duke), 27, 402-3 Manchester, GeorgeMontagu, 4th Duke

of (1737-1788), 403 Manchester, William Montagu,5th Duke

of (1771-1843), 403-4 Manchester, William DrogoMontagu,

7th Duke of (1823-1890), 404 Manchester,Duchess of (Louise von Alten, wife of 7th Duke), 190-2, 320, 404-5, 412 Manchester, George Montagu,8th Duke

of(1853-1892), 405 Manchester, Duchess of(Consuelo Iznaga del Valle, wife of 8th Duke), 248,405Manchester, William Montagu, 9th Duke

of (1877-1947), 23, 26, 388, 405 Manchester,Duchess of (Helena Zimmerman, wife of gthDuke), 248, 405Manchester, Alexander Drogo Montagu, 10th Duke of(1902- ), 16, 19, 28, 387-90, 405 Manchester, nthDuke of, 9, 387 Manchester, 12 th Duke of (1938- ),387Mandeville, Lord, 389Manners, John, 350Manners, Lord John, see 7th Dukeof Rutland Manners, Lord Robert (1962-1964), 356

Manners-Sutton, Charles (1755-1828),Archbishop of Canterbury, 355 March, Earl of, 29,

133-4 Marlborough, John Churchill, 1st Duke of(1650-1722), 30, 94, 233, 234, 235-6, 237-8, 241-

2, 349 Marlborough, Duchess of (Sarah Jennings, wifeof 1st Duke), 24, 235-6, 237-8, 241-2, 349Marlborough, Henrietta Churchill, Suo jure 2ndDuchess of (1681-1733), 243 Marlborough, CharlesSpencer, 3rdDuke of (1706-1758), 243-4 Marlborough, George

Spencer, 4th Dukeof ("739-18'7). 244-5 Marlborough, George Spencer-

Churchill,5th Duke of (1766-1840), 245 Marlborough, George

Spencer-Churchill,6th Duke of (1793-1857), 245-6 Marlborough, JohnWinston Spencer- Churchill, 7th Duke of (1822-1883),246- 7

Marlborough, Duchess of (Lady Frances Anne Vane,wife of 7th Duke), 246,248- 9

Marlborough, George Spencer-Churchill,8th Duke of (1844- 1892), 246—7 Marlborough,

Charles Spencer-Churchill,9th Duke of (1871-1934), 247-9 Marlborough,Duchess of (Consuelo Vanderbilt, wife of 9th Duke),

26,247- 9

Marlborough, John Spencer-Churchill,10th Duke of (1897-1972), 249 Marlborough, JohnSpencer-Churchill, 1 ith Duke of (1926- ), 90, 233,249- 50

Marlborough, Duchess of (Susan Hornby,1st wife of 1 ith Duke), 250 Marlborough, Duchess of(Rosita Douglas,3rd wife of 1 ith Duke), 250 Mary, Queen, 210-n,

230, 320, 367, 377 Mellon, Harriot, see Duchess of StAlbans Monmouth, "James Crofts", Duke of, and 1stDuke of Buccleuch (1649-1685), 83-9. 92, 112-3Montagu, Sir Edward (1532-1602), 400 Montagu,Ralph Montagu, 1st Duke of (1638-1709), 94, 411-12Montagu, George Brudenell, 3rd Duke of(I7I3-I79°)> '09 Montagu, Lord Edward, 388Montrose, James Graham, 1 st Marquessof (1612-1650), 284, 285, 392-6 Montrose, JamesGraham, 2nd Marquessof(1631-1669), 396 Montrose, James Graham, 1stDuke of

(1682-1742), 396 Montrose, William Graham, 2ndDuke of(1712-1790), 396-7 Montrose, James Graham, 3rdDuke of(1755-1836), 397 Montrose, James Graham, 4thDuke of(1799-1874), 397-8 Montrose, Duchess of(Caroline Decies,wife of 4th Duke), 398 Montrose, Douglas Graham,5th Duke of(1852-1925), 398 Montrose, James Graham, 6thDuke of(1878-1954), 398 Montrose, James Angus Graham,7th Duke of (1907- ), 14, 29, 387-91, 398Mowbray, Lady Anne, 35Murray, Lord Charles (son of 1st Duke ofAtholl), 298 Murray, Lord George (son of 1st DukeofAtholl), 298 Murray, Lord George, Bishop ofSt. David's, 299 Murray, General (brother of 3rdDuke ofAtholl), 299 Murray, Jean, 298-9Newcastle, William Cavendish, 1st Duke

of(1592-1676), 411 Newcastle, MargaretCavendish, Duchessof (1624-1674), 195 Newcastle, Thomas Pelham-Holles, 1st Duke of (1693-1768), 16, 29, 113-4,348, 359-6o, 365-6 Newcastle, Henry Fiennes-Clinton, 2ndDuke of (1720-1794), 360-1, 365-6 Newcastle,Henry Pelham-Clinton, 4thDuke of (1785-1851), 17, 363-5 Newcastle, HenryPelham Pelham- Clinton, 5th Duke of (1811-1864),358-9, 362-3 Newcastle, Henry Pelham-Clinton,6thDuke of (1834-1879), 358, 361 Newcastle,Duchess of (Henrietta AddaHope, wife of 6th Duke), 358, 361 Newcastle,Henry Pelham-Clinton-Hope,8th Duke of (1866-1941), 361-2, 366 Newcastle,Henry Pelham-Clinton-Hope, 9th Duke of (1907- ),14, 23, 28, 362, 366-7 Norfolk, John Howard, 1 stDuke of (1430-1485), 18, 33, 35-7, 257Norfolk, Thomas Howard, 2nd Duke of(1443-1524), 33, 35-9 Norfolk, Thomas Howard,3rd Duke of

(1473-1554), 24, 39-42, 45 Norfolk, ThomasHoward, 4th Duketof(1536-1572), 18, 34, 45-9 Norfolk, ThomasHoward, 5th Duke of(1626-1677), 50 Norfolk, Henry Howard, 6th Dukeof(1628-1684), 50 Norfolk, Henry Howard, 7th Dukeof(1655-1701), 50 Norfolk, Duchess of (Lady MaryMordaunt, wife of 8th Duke), 50-51 Norfolk,Thomas Howard, 8th Duke of(1683-1732), 51 Norfolk, Edward Howard, 1 thDuke of(1686-1777), 51 Norfolk, Duchess of (Mary Blount,wifeof 9th Duke), 51 Norfolk, Charles Howard, 10thDuke of(1720-1786), 51 Norfolk, Charles Howard, 11 thDuke of "Jockey" (1746-1815), 51-5, 216, 352Norfolk, Duchess of (Frances Scudamore,wife of 11 th Duke), 52-3 Norfolk, Charles Howard,12th Duke of,"Scroop" (1765-1842), 44 Norfolk, Henry Fitzalan-

Howard, 10thDuke of (1847-1917), 55-6 Norfolk, BernardMarmaduke Fitzalan- Howard, 16th Duke of (1908-1975), 56-61Norfolk, Miles Fitzalan-Howard, 17th Duke of(1915- ), 15, 16, 19, 26, 39. 61-2Northumberland, Henry Percy, 1st Earlof (1342-1402), 257 Northumberland, Henry Percy,4th Earlof (1446-1489), 257 Northumberland, Henry Percy,6th Earlof (?-i537). 257 Northumberland, Thomas Percy,gthtEarl of (1528-1572), 256, 257 Northumberland,Henry Percy, 8th Earloft(?-i585), 257 Northumberland, Henry Percy, 9thEar!of (1564-1632), 257-8t Northumberland, AlgernonPercy, 10thEarl of (1602-1668), 258 Northumberland, JocelinePercy, 11 thEarl of (1644-1670), 258 Northumberland, HughSmithson

(afterwards Percy), 1st Duke of (1714- 1786), 29,66, 259-62, 273 Northumberland, Duchess of (LadyBetty Seymour, wife of 1st Duke), 259-62Northumberland, Hugh Percy, 2nd Duke of (1742-1817), 262-3

Northumberland, Hugh Percy, 3rd Dukeof (1785-1847), 263-4 Northumberland, Duchess of

(Lady Charlotte-Florentia Clive, wife of 3rd Duke),264 Northumberland, Algernon Percy, 4th

Duke of (1792-1865), 262, 265 Northumberland,Algernon Percy, 6th

Duke of (1810-1899), 262, 267 Northumberland,Alan Ian Percy, 8th

Duke of (1880-1930), 262, 265 Northumberland,Duchess of (Lady Helen Gordon-Lennox, wife of 8thDuke), 26, 265 Northumberland, Henry Percy, 9thDuke

of (1912-1940), 266 Northumberland, HughAlgernon Percy, 10th Duke of (1914- ), 15, 16, 19,256, 266, 324 Northumberland, Duchess of (LadyElizabeth Montagu-Douglas-Scott, ElizabethMontagu-Douglas-Scott, wife of 10th Duke), 266

Osborne, Lady Camilla, 422 Osborne, Sir Edward,420 Osborne, Richard, 420, 422 Oxford, last Earl of,10

Paisley, Claud Hamilton, 1st Baron(1543-1621), 3'2, 326

Parsons, Nancy, 117-18, 162-3 Paxton, Sir Joseph(1801-1865), '88 Pelham, Catherine, 365 Pelham,Henry, 359, 365 Pelham, Lucy, 365 Pelham-Clinton,Edward Charles

(1920- ), 366 Pelham-Clinton, Lady Susan, 362-3Pelham-Clinton-Hope, Lady Kathleen, 362Penaranda de Bracamonte, Duke of, 420Percy, Agnes, 257Percy, Lady Elizabeth, "Carrots"

(1667-1722), 64-5, 258 Percy, Lord Eustace (1887-1958), 262 Percy, Sir Henry, "Hotspur" (1364-1403),

256, 257 Percy, James, 261Percy, Lord Richard (1921- ), 262 Percy, Williamde (1030-1096), 256 Portland, Hans Bentinck, 1stEarl of

(1649-1709), 195-8 Portland, William Bentinck, 2ndDuke

of (1709-1762), 198 Portland, William-Cavendish-Bentinck, 3rd Duke of (1738-1809), 16, 198-9Portland, William Cavendish-Bentinck, 4th Duke of(1768-1854), 199Portland, William Cavendish-Bentinck- Scott, 5thDuke of (1800-1879), 22, 199-207

Portland, William Cavendish-Bentinck,6th Duke of (1857-1943), 24, 207 Portland, WilliamCavendish-Bentinck, 7th Duke of (1893-1978), 14,16, '73, 207-8 Portland, Duchess of (Ivy Gordon-Lennox; wife of 7th Duke), 100, 207 Portland, 8thDuke of, 9, 77, 207-8 Portland, William Cavendish-Bentinck,9th Duke of, 208, 309 Portsmouth, Duchess of, see

Louise de Kerouaille

Queensberry, 4th Duke of, "Old Q," (1724-1810),108-9

Raglan, Lord, 216Ramsden, Sir John, 73Richmond, Charles Lennox, 1st Duke of(1672-1723), 102, 105-6 Richmond, Charles

Lennox, 2nd Duke of(1701-1750), 24, 128-30, 273 Richmond, Duchess

of (Lady Sarah Cadogan, wife of 2nd Duke), 24,129-30, 273 Richmond, Charles Lennox, 3rd Dukeof(1735-1806), 130-1, 273 Richmond, Charles

Lennox, 4th Duke of(1764-1819), 131-2 Richmond, Duchess of (Lady

Charlotte Gordon, the "Waterloo Duchess", wife of4th Duke), 131, 240 Richmond, Charles Lennox, 5thDuke of(1791-1860), 132 Richmond, Charles Lennox, 6th

Duke of(1818-1903), 132 Richmond, Duchess of (Hilda

Brassey,1871-1971, wife of 8th Duke), 134 Richmond,

Frederick Gordon-Lennox, 9th Duke of (1904- ), 17,19, 22, 132-4Ridley, George, 378, 382 Roxburghe, RobertKer, 1st Earl of(d. 1650), 284, 287, 305-6 Roxburghe,

William Drummond(afterwards Ker), 2nd Earl of (d. 1675), 285

Roxburghe, John Ker, 1st Duke of(1680-1741), 287, 307-8 Roxburghe, Duchess of

(Jean Ker, wifeof 2nd Duke), 305 Roxburghe, John Ker, 3rd

Duke of(1740-1804), 308-9 Roxburghe, William Ker, 4th

Duke of (1728-1805), 305, 307Roxburghe, James Innes (afterwards Innes-Ker), 5thDuke of (1736-1823), 306, 308Roxburghe, James Innes-Ker, 6th Dukeof (1816-1879), 304 Roxburghe, James Innes-Ker,7th Dukeof (1839-1892), 309 Roxburghe, Henry Innes-Ker,8th Dukeof (1876-1932), 309 Roxburghe, Duchess of (MayGoelot,wife of 8th Duke), 248, 309 Roxburghe, Guy DavidInnes-Ker, 10th Duke of (1954- ), 9, 19, 306, 309Russell, Bertrand Russell, Earl(1872-1970), 90, 156 Russell, Lady Ela, 152Russell, Lordjohn, 139, 141, 143, 164, 239. 264Russell, Rachel Wriothesley, Lady, 153,158, 166, 348-9 Russell, William Russell, Lord

(1639-1683), 141, 152-6, 348 Russell, LordWilliam (1767-1840), 152 Russell, Lord William(1790-1846),134, 140, 144 Rutland, Thomas Manners, 1st Earlof(c. 1492-1543), 350 Rutland, Roger Manners, 5thEarl of(1576-1612), 355, 356 Rutland, Francis Manners,6th Earl of(1578-1632), 254, 356-7 Rutland, John Manners,3rd Duke of(1696-1779), 353 Rutland, Charles Manners, 4thDuke of(1754-1787), 351, 352, 356 Rutland, Duchess of(Lady MarySomerset, wife of 4th Duke), 352-3 Rutland, JohnManners, 5th Duke of(1778-1857), 250-1 Rutland, John Manners, 7thDuke of(1818-1906), 351, 355, 357 Rutland, HenryManners, 8th Duke of(1852-1925), 354 Rutland, Duchess of (VioletLindsay,

wife of 8th Duke), 25, 353-4 Rutland, CharlesManners, 9th Duke of(1886-1940), 354-5 Rutland, Charles Manners,10th Duke of(I9I9~ )» >9. 20, 355, 358 Rutland, Duchess of(Anne Cumming-Bell, 1st wife of 10th Duke), 358 Rutland, Duchessof (Frances Sweeney, 2nd wife of 10th Duke), 358St Albans, Charles Beauclerk, 1 st Duke of(1670-1726), 100-1, 105 St Albans, CharlesBeauclerk, 2nd Dukeof (1696-1751), 121 St Albans, George Beauclerk,3rd Duke of(1730-1786), 121St Albans, Aubrey Beauclerk, 6th Duke

of (1765-1815), 121-2, 126 St Albans, Duchessof (Louisa Manners,

2nd wife of 6th Duke), 122 St Albans, WilliamBeauclerk, 9th Duke

of(1801-1849), 124-6 St Albans, Duchess of(Harriot Coutts, nee Mellon, 1st wife of 9th Duke),122-6St Albans, Duchess of (Elizabeth Gubbins,

2nd wife of gth Duke), 126 St Albans, CharlesBeauclerk, 11 th Duke

of (1870-1934), 126 St Albans, Osborne de VereBeauclerk, 12th Duke of, "Obby" (1874-1964), 126-7St Albans, Charles de Vere Beauclerk, 13th Duke of(1915- ), 10, 14, 19, 24, 58, 127-8 St Albans,Duchess of (wife of 13th Duke), 127St Maur, Earl (1835-1869), 70-73 St Maur, LordEdward (1841-1865),

70-72 St Maur, Edward, 77 St Maur, LadyGuendolen, 70, 73 St Maur, Harold, 73-7, 78St Maur, Lady Hermione, 70, 77 St Maur,Ruth, 73-7 St Maur, Lady Ulrica, 70, 73, 75Selkirk, Earldom of, 321-2 Sellar, Patrick, 339Seymour, Sir Edward (1633-1708), 66 Seymour,Francis Compton, 77-8 Seymour, Queen Jane (1509-1537). 4°-' Seymour, Thomas, Lord Seymour of

Sudeley (1508-1549), 42-5 Seymour, Lord,31, 80 Shakespeare, William, 10 Smith, Ian,390-1Smithson, James (1765-1829), 267-8 Somerset, LordArthur (1851-1926), 225-6 Somerset, Lady Augusta,

221-2 Somerset, Lord Charles (1767-1831), 215-16Somerset, Lord Henry (1849-1932), 223-5Somerset, Lady Rose, 221Somerset, John Beaufort, Earl of, 211Somerset, Henry Beaufort, 3rd Duke of

(d. 1464), 212 Somerset, Edward Seymour, 1stDuke of, the Protector (1500-1552), 18, 33, 34. 40,42-5. 67, 400 Somerset, Duchess of (Anne Stanhope,

2nd wife of 1st Duke), 67 Somerset, WilliamSeymour, 2nd Duke of

(1588-1660), 34, 63-4, 213-4 Somerset, WilliamSeymour, 3rd Duke of (1652-1671), 64Somerset, Francis Seymour, 5th Duke of

(1658-1678), 64 Somerset, Charles Seymour, 6thDuke of, "The Proud Duke" (1662-1748), 34, 64-6,258, 259 Somerset, Duchess of, wife of 6th Duke,

see Lady Elizabeth Percy Somerset, AlgernonSeymour, 7th Duke of

(1684-1750), 67, 259 Somerset, Edward Seymour,8th Duke of

(1695-1757), 67 Somerset, Webb Seymour, 10thDuke of

(1718-1793), 67 Somerset, Edward Adolphus

Seymour,1 ith Duke of (1775-1855). 67-9 Somerset, Duchessof (Lady Charlotte

Hamilton, 1st wife of nth Duke), 63 Somerset,Edward Adolphus Seymour,12th Duke of (1804-1885), 69-74, 398 Somerset,Duchess of (Jane Georgiana Sheridan, wife of 12thDuke), 69-74 Somerset, Archibald Seymour, 13thDuke

of (1810-1891), 73-4, 77 Somerset, AlgernonSeymour, 15th Duke

of (1846-1923), 76-7 Somerset, Edward HamiltonSeymour,16th Duke of (1860-1931), 77-9 Somerset, EvelynFrancis Seymour, 17th

Duke of (1882-1954), 79 Somerset, Duchessof (Edith Parker,wife of 12th Duke), 79 Somerset, Percy HamiltonSeymour, 18th Duke of (191 o- ), 9, 17, 23, 30, 33.41. 79. 2" Somerset, John Seymour, 19th Duke of, 80Somerset, Duchess of (Judith Rose Hull,

wife of 19th Duke), 80 Stuart, Lady Arabella(1575-1615), 63-4. 173

Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of(1517-1547), 34,41-2, 271 Sutherland, Robert,

6th Earl of, 335 Sutherland, John, nth Earl of, 336Sutherland, Elizabeth Sutherland, Duchess-Countessof (1765-1839), 335. 336-40 Sutherland, GeorgeGranville Leveson- Gower, 1st Duke of (1758-1833),

335. 336-40, 377 Sutherland, George GranvilleLeveson- Gower, 2nd Duke of (1786-1861), 340-1Sutherland, Duchess of (Lady Harriet

Howard, wife of 2nd Duke), 341 Sutherland,George Granville Leveson- Gower, 3rd Duke of(1828-1892), 34'-4Sutherland, Duchess of (Ann Hay- Mackenzie,

1st wife of 3rd Duke: "Duchess Annie"), 341-2Sutherland, Duchess of (Mrs Blair, 2nd

wife of 3rd Duke), 342-4 Sutherland, CromartieLeveson-Gower, 4th Duke of (1851-1913), "Strath",16, 342-4 Sutherland, George Granville

Sutherland-Leveson-Gower, 5th Duke of (1888-1963), 336, 344 Sutherland, John Egerton, 6th Dukeof (i9'5~ ), '9. 25, 256, 334, 345-6 Sutherland,Duchess of (Lady Diane

Percy, wife of 6th Duke), 345 Sutherland, ElizabethSutherland, Mrs Janson, Countess of (1921- ), 29,

334. 344-5 Swann, Rosa Elizabeth, "Lady Seymour",75-6Talbot, Lord, 216-17 Tavistock, Marchioness of(Louisa Jowitt), 144-6Tavistock, Robin Russell, Marquess of

(194°- ). 30, 169 Teck, Duchess of, 320 Teck,Princess Mary of, see Queen Mary Thynne, LordHenry, 73, 75 Turks, Henrietta, 170 Tullibardine,Marquess of (1684-1709), 298Vane, Lord Adolphus, 302-3 Vere, Lord, 10 Vernon,Dorothy, 350 Villiers, Barbara, Countess ofCastlemaine and Duchess of Cleveland (1641-1709),40-95, 103, 235-6, 312, 418Walpole, Sir Robert, 307 Walter, Lucy (1630?-1658),83-4, 88 Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of(1769-1852), 16, 233-5, 236-7, 238-41, 251, 252,364 Wellington, Duchess of (Catherine

Pakenham, wife of 1st Duke), 238 Wellington,Arthur Wellesley, 2nd Duke

of (1807-1884), 251, 252 Wellington, Henry

Valerian Wellesley,6th Duke of (1912-1943), 252 Wellington, Gerald

Wellesley, 7th Dukeof(1885-1972), 252-3 Wellington, Duchess

of (DorothyWellesley, wife of 7th Duke), 252 Wellington,

Arthur Valerian Wellesley,8th Duke of (1915- ), 21, 233, 253 Westminster,Hugh Lupus Grosvenor, 1st Duke of (1825-1899),373, 377, 381-2, 384 Westminster, HughGrosvenor, 2nd Duke of, "Bend Or" (1879-1953),377-9 380-1, 382-3, 384

Westminster, Duchess of (Loelia Ponsonby, 3rd wifeof 2nd Duke), 380-1

Westminster, William Grosvenor, 3rdDuke of (1894-1953), 382-3, 384 Westminster,

Gerald Grosvenor, 4thDuke of (1907-1967), 384 Westminster, Robert

Grosvenor, 5th Duke of (1910- ), 9, 15, 16, 19, 27,383-4Wilson, Harriette (1789-1846), 217-20,275. 275-6, 290-1 Worcester, William Somerset, 3rdEarl of

(d. 1589), 212 Worcester, Edward Somerset, 4thEarl of(1553-1628), 212-3 Worcester, Edward Somerset,2nd Marquess of (1601-1667), '5)213

York, Prince Andrew, Duke of, 9-10* * *

[1] But not in precedence, see pages 15-16.[2] i.e. Dux Devon is always known as the Duke of Devonshire toavoid confusion.

[3]

In 1887 Ruth m arried W ill iam Cavendish-Bentinck. T he ir son, born 1897, is the

present Duke of Port land, having inheri ted. the dukedom from his brother in 1980.So

Ferdy St Maur is a fte r a l l the ancestor of a duke , though of the wrong duke .

[4] In fact, the dukedom of Grafton did not receive the seal until amonth later.

[5]

T he road which runs a long the west side of St Jam es's Park. Both Jam es I andCharles II kept la rge num bers of exotic birds. T he road was opened to the public in1828.

[6] Near Eastbourne, on the Duke's Compton Place estate.

[7] Walter Keppel, 9th Earl of Albermarle, is a direct descendant.[8] Neither Blenheim Palace nor Stratfield Saye may ever be sold.

[9] Now at Durham University.

[9] The Land Purchase Act of 1885.[10] The London Palladium now stands on the site of Argyll House.

[11]

Jam es L ees-Milne describes him a t length in

Ancestral Voices.Short , with white ha ir and a white face , a shri l l wom an's voice , often hyste rica l ,

L ees-Milne thought he was 've ry eunuchy' and L ady Vic tor Page t desc ribed him as ane lderly herm aphrodite . Invera ray was awash with books on lepidopte ra , num ism atics,m edieva l l i turgy, and other recondite subjec ts on a l l of which the Duke was anauthori ty. He told how the m ale guests used to m arch out of the cast le in fi le a fte rbreakfast , each with his own footm an ca rrying an um bre lla , to an outside lava torywhere they sa t fac ing each other ten in a row, and having finished m arched back tothe cast le .

[12]

Another exam ple of an ostenta t ious departure was the funera l of the Duke ofRothes, m ore e labora te and im pressive than e i the r W ell ington's or Churchil l 's. T hecost of whole regim ents of ce rem onia l guards, soldie rs, banners, t rum pets, he ra lds andcoaches e ffec t ive ly ruined the fam ily finances forever.

[13] For more detailed information, the reader is directed to NigelHague, Leasehold Enfranchisement (Sweet and Maxwell).

[14]

T he essence of the offence of T reason l ies in the withdrawal of a l legiance whichis owed to the Sovere ign by a l l Bri t ish subjec ts wherever they m ay be . T hose wishingto pursue the m atte r m ight with profi t consult Ha lsbury's

Laws of England,where in grounds for the charge of T reason a re l isted, am ong which is the ac t ion

of a person who 'levies war aga inst the Sovere ign in her rea lm , or gives them a id orcom fort in the rea lm , or e lsewhere . ' T he T reason Act of 1351 has been am ended byT reason Act, 1795, T reason Act, 1817, T reason Fe lony Act, 1848, and the Sta tuteL aw Revision Act of 1948.

[15]

Just as, in 1933, the brewer Mr Nail-Ca in bought L ord Melbourne 's old house ,Brocke t Ha ll in Hertfordshire and took the nam e "L ord Brocke t" for his peerage . Henow lives a t the Duke of L e inste r's old sea t , Carton.

[16] Not to be confused with Rachel Lady Russell, her

grandmother.