APPENDIX.

Letter from Mistress Wittewronge, daughter-in-law of Sir John Wittewronge, Bart. of Rothamsted Park, Herts, to the Duchess of Marlborough, referring to Mrs. Jennings.

Sir John Wittewronge came to England from Ghent, in consequence of the persecutions of the Protestants in Flanders. One of his family was maid of honour to Queen Anne, probably through the interest of the Duchess, who appears from this letter to have been a friend of the family.

May it please your grace, when your grace was last at St. Albans, I endeavoured to have the honour of making my duty in person, but word was brought me by the servant I sent, that your grace’s stay there was soe short, that company was not expected; and not knowing when I may hope to have any opportunity of speaking, humbly crave pardon, that I presume to express myself in this manner, which I thought could not be well omitted without a seeming neglect, both of my duty and interest, since your grace will please to remember that it was told me I should be in a capacity in London ere it were long, which I took as a gracious intimation that some favour was intended for my husband, who, I am sure, will deserve it, and has no hopes from any other hand. I must own my affection to the memory of your noble mother, who honoured me with her love, and bestowed upon me many costly favours, which may seem an odd argument in my behalf to hope for more from your grace; but it is godlike to confer new mercies on them who have been the objects of former ones without any merit, especially upon such as are truly thankful for what they have received. I begg at least forgiveness, and shall ever remain

Your grace’s most dutyfull

Thankful Servant,

Mary Wittewronge.

For her grace the Duchess of Marlborough.

(Endorsed in the hand writing of Mr. Wittewronge)

My wife to Duchess Marlb.

Extract from “An Account of the Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. 1742.”

FROM THE QUEEN TO HER SISTER THE PRINCESS ANNE.

Kensington, Friday, the 5th of Feb.

Having something to say to you which I know will not be very pleasing, I chuse rather to write it first, being unwilling to surprise you, although I think what I am going to tell you should not, if you gave yourself the time to think, that never anybody was suffered to live at court in my Lord Marlborough’s circumstances. I need not repeat the cause he has given the King to do what he has done, nor his unwillingness at all times to come to such extremities, though people do deserve it.

I hope you do me the justice to believe it is as much against my will that I now tell you, that after this it is very unfit Lady Marlborough should stay with you, since that gives her husband so just a pretence of being where he ought not.

I think I might have expected you should have spoke to me of it. And the King and I, both believing it, made us stay thus long. But seeing you was so far from it that you brought Lady Marlborough hither last night, makes us resolve to put it off no longer, but tell you she must not stay; and that I have all the reasons imaginable to look upon your bringing her as the strangest thing that ever was done. Nor could all my kindness for you (which is ever ready to turn all you do the best way, at any other time,) have hindered me from showing you that moment, but I considered your condition, and that made me master myself so far as not to take notice of it then.

But now I must tell you it was very unkind in a sister, would have been very uncivil in an equal, and I need not say I have more to claim: which though my kindness would make me never exact, yet when I see the use you would make of it, I must tell you I know what is due to me, and expect to have it from you. ’Tis upon that account I tell you plainly, Lady Marlborough must not continue with you in the circumstances her lord is.

I know this will be uneasy to you, and I am sorry for it; and it is very much so to me to say all this to you, for I have all the real kindness imaginable for you; and as I ever have, so will always do my part to live with you as sisters ought. That is, not only like so near relations, but like friends. And, as such, I did think to write to you. For I would have made myself believe your kindness for her made you at first forget that you should have for the King and me; and resolved to put you in mind of it myself, neither of us being willing to come to harsher ways.

But the sight of Lady Marlborough having changed my thoughts, does naturally alter my stile. And since by that I see how little you seem to consider what even in common civility you owe us, I have told you plainly; but withall assure you, that let me have never so much reason to talk anything ill of you, my kindness is so great, that I can pass over most things, and live with you as becomes me. And I desire to do so merely from that motive; for I do love you as my sister, and nothing but yourself can make me do otherwise; and that is the reason I chuse to write this rather than tell it you, that you may overcome your first thoughts; and when you have well considered, you will find, that though the thing be hard, (which I again assure you I am sorry for,) yet it is not unreasonable, but what has ever been practised, and what you yourself would do, were you in my place.

I will end this with once more desiring you to consider the matter impartially, and take time for it. I do not desire an answer presently, because I would not have you give a rash one. I shall come to your drawing-room to-morrow before you play, because you know why I cannot make one; at some other time we shall reason the business calmly; which I will willingly do, or anything else that may show it shall never be my fault if we do not live kindly together; nor will I ever be other by choice but your truly loving and affectionate sister,

M. R.

THE PRINCESS ANNE’S ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING LETTER.

Your Majesty was in the right to think your letter would be very surprising to me. For you must needs be sensible of the kindness I have for my Lady Marlborough, to know that a command from you to part with her must be the greatest mortification in the world to me; and, indeed, of such a nature, that I might well have hoped your kindness to me would have always prevented. I am satisfied she cannot have been guilty of any fault to you; and it would be extremely to her advantage if I could here repeat every word that ever she had said to me of you in her whole life. I confess it is no small addition to my trouble to find the want of your Majesty’s kindness to me upon this occasion, since I am sure I have always endeavoured to deserve it by all the actions of my life.

Your care of my present condition is extremely obliging, and if you would be pleased to add to it so far as upon my account to recall your severe command, (as I must beg leave to call it, in a matter so tender to me, and so little reasonable, as I think, to be imposed upon me, that you would scarcely require it from the meanest of your subjects,) I should ever acknowledge it as a very agreeable mark of your kindness to me. And I must as freely own, that as I think this proceeding can be for no other intent than to give me a very sensible mortification, so there is no misery that I cannot readily resolve to suffer, rather than the thoughts of parting with her. If, after all this that I have said, I must still find myself so unhappy as to be farther pressed in this matter, yet your Majesty may be assured, that as my past actions have given the greatest testimony of my respect both for the King and you, so it shall always be my endeavour, wherever I am, to preserve it carefully for the time to come, as becomes

Your Majesty’s

Very affectionate Sister and Servant,

Anne.

From the Cockpit, Feb. 6th, 1692.

FROM THE PRINCESS ANNE TO THE QUEEN.

I am very sorry to find that all I have said myself, and my Lord Rochester for me, has not had effect enough to keep your Majesty from persisting in a resolution which you are satisfied must be so great a mortification to me, as, to avoid it, I shall be obliged to retire, and deprive myself of the satisfaction of living where I might have frequent opportunities of assuring you of that duty and respect which I always have been and shall be desirous to pay you on all occasions.

My only consolation in this extremity is, that not having done anything in all my life to deserve your unkindness, I hope I shall not be long under the necessity of absenting myself from you; the thought of which is so uneasy to me, that I find myself too much indisposed to give your Majesty any farther trouble at this time.

February 8, 1692.

Two Letters of kindness from the Princess of Denmark to Lady Marlborough.

THE PRINCESS ANNE TO LADY MARLBOROUGH.

To Lady Marlborough.—I had last night a very civil answer from the Bishop of Worcester, whom I sent to speak with, but have heard nothing more of him since, so I dare not venture to go to London to-day for fear of missing him. If he comes in any time to-morrow, I will not fail of being with my dear Mrs. Freeman about five or six o’clock, unless you are to go to the Tower. And if you do, pray be so kind as to let me know time enough to stop my journey. For I would not go to London, and miss the satisfaction of seeing you. I could not forbear writing, though I had nothing more to say, but that it is impossible ever to express the kindness I have for dear Mrs. Freeman.

TO LADY MARLBOROUGH FROM THE PRINCESS ANNE.

To Lady Marlborough.—Sir Benjamin telling me you were not come to town at three o’clock, makes me in pain to know how your son does, and I can’t help inquiring after him and dear Mrs. Freeman. The Bishop of Worcester was with me this morning before I was dress’d. I gave him my letter to the Queen, and he has promised to send it, and seemed to undertake it very willingly; though, by all the discourse I had with him, (of which I will give you a particular account when I see you,) I find him very partial to her. The last time he was here, I told him you had several times desired you might go from me, and I repeated the same thing again to him. For you may easily imagine I would not neglect doing you right upon all occasions. But I beg it again for Christ Jesus’s sake, that you would never name it any more to me. For be assured, if you should ever do so cruel a thing as to leave me, from that moment I should never enjoy one quiet hour. And should you do it without asking my consent, (which if ever I give you may I never see the face of heaven,) I will shut myself up, and never see the world more, but live where I may be forgotten by human kind.

THE DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH TO THE QUEEN.[^[506]]

This letter proves that, so early as the year 1707, the good understanding between the Queen and her favourite was undermined.

August 7, 1707.

Lord Marlborough has written to me to put your Majesty in mind of Count Wrateslaw’s picture, and in the same letter desires me to ask for one that he sent Lord Treasurer, which came from Hanover, which I have seen, and which I know you would not have me trouble you with; and I have been so often discouraged in things of this nature that I believe nobody in the world but myself would attempt it; but I know Mrs. Morley’s intentions are good, and to let her run on in so many mistakes that must of necessity draw her into great misfortunes at last, is just as if one should see a friend’s house set on fire, and let them be burnt in their bed without endeavouring to wake them, only because they had taken laudanum, and had desired not to be disturbed. This is the very case of poor dear Mrs. Morley; nothing seems agreeable to her but what comes from the artifices of one that has always been reported to have a great talent that way. I heartily wish she may discover her true friends before she suffers for the want of that knowledge; but as to the business of calling for the Princess Sophia over, I don’t think that will be so easily prevented as she (perhaps) may flatter herself it will, though I can’t think there can be many, at least, that know how ridiculous a creature she is, that can in their hearts be for her. But we are a divided nation; some Jacobites that cover themselves with the name of Tory, and yet are against the crown. And whoever comes into the project of that sort must do it in hopes of confusion. Others there are that are so ignorant that they really believe the calling over any of the House of Hanover will secure the succession, and the Protestant religion. And some of those gentlemen that do know better, and that have so many years supported the true interest against the malice of all the inventions of the enemies to this government, I suppose will grow easy, and be pretty indifferent at least in what they think may be of no ill consequence, further than in displeasing the court, not only in this of the Princess Sophia, but in anything else that may happen; and as Mrs. Morley orders her affairs, she can’t expect much strength to oppose anything where she is most concerned. Finding Mrs. Morley has little time to spare, unless it be to speak to those that are more agreeable, or that say what she likes on these subjects, I have taken the liberty to write an answer to this, which you will say is sincere, and can be no great trouble only to sign it with Morley.

Extract from the Duchess’s Letter to Mr. Hutchinson. (This passage relates to the Duchess accepting two thousand pounds out of the privy purse: a sum, which she had formerly refused from the Queen. Taken from the Coxe Manuscripts, vol. xliii.)

But to return to my own case. When the Queen had turned me out of my places, the next thing I had to do was to make up my accounts for the robes and privy purse, with all the care and exactness I could. But in the mean time, while some of my friends persuaded me to let the Queen be asked whether she would not allow me to take out of the privy purse the two thousand pounds a year which she had so often pressed me to accept, since the reason of my refusing it now ceased, when she turned me out of my places, I must confess it went much against me to desire anything of her; but when I considered how great a sum of money I had saved her by the management of my offices, the real service I had done her in many respects, and the dear hours of my life I had spent upon her for many years together, without either asking or having anything of her, (except those few trifles I mentioned before,) after she came to the crown, which any one would think was the proper time for her to have rewarded her old servants, I thought I should not be in her debt though she should give me what I had so often refused, and therefore that I might very well suffer myself to be governed by my friends in letting her be asked about this matter; and accordingly I consented that a copy of one of her own letters, in which she pressed me so much to take that money out of the privy purse, should be shown to her, and that the person who carried it should tell her that I desired to know, before I made up my accounts, whether she still was willing that I should take the money out of the privy purse according as she had desired me in that letter. When this was proposed to her, she blushed and appeared to be very uneasy, and not disposed to allow of my putting that money into my accounts; but for want of good counsel or instructions to defend herself in refusing that which she had been so very earnest with me to accept before, she consented that I should do it. Then I sent in my accounts with that yearly sum charged in them from the time she had offered it to me. But I still used this further caution, of writing at the bottom of the accounts, before I charged the last sum, a copy of the letter I mentioned before, that when she signed them, she might at the same time attest her own letter, and the offer she had made me of her own accord, and pressed me to take in this manner—“Pray make no more words about it, and either own or conceal it, as you like best; since I think the richest crown could never repay the services I have received from you.” After this the Queen kept my accounts almost a fortnight by her, in which time I don’t doubt but they were well examined by Abigal and Mr. Harley; but there was no fault which they could pretend to find with them, and they were sent back to me, without the least objection being made against them, signed by the Queen’s own hand, who had writ under them that she allowed of them, and was satisfied they were right; so that the new ministers had nothing left them in this matter but to whisper about the town some scandalous storys of it, and to employ such of their agents as the Examiner in propagating them.

I don’t pretend to give you any particular account of these, or any other abusive storys that were industriously raised of me, but leave you to judge of them by the matters of fact which I have now given you a relation of, and which I have told in so full a manner as I think will give you a clear notion of my whole behaviour in all the concerns I had with the Queen, and particularly with respect to everything in which she seemed to show any uneasiness towards me.

Extract from a Letter written by the Duchess of Marlborough, vindicating herself from the charge of selling places; and touching also upon other matters.—Taken from the Coxe Manuscripts, vol. xliv. p. 2.

And upon the whole, I solemnly swear, as I hope for happiness here or hereafter, that besides the case of the pages to the Princess, which I have told you of, I never did receive the value of one shilling in money, jewells, or any such thing, either directly or indirectly, for the disposing of any employment, or doing any favour during my whole life, nor from any person whatsoever, upon any such account; and that if there is any man or woman upon earth that can give the least proof to the contrary, I am contented for the future to be looked upon both by friends and enemies, as one of the vilest of women, worse than Abigal herself, when I consider her as instrumental in doing the greatest mischief that a nation can suffer; the reducing it from the most flourishing to at least a dangerous condition; and as acting the most ungratefully and injuriously to a person to whom she owes her very bread.

I may be thought, perhaps, in this to put my own vindication upon too ticklish a bottom, when it is considered how far the malice of men will go, in these times especially, in maintaining the greatest falsity against others, when they can serve their own purposes by it. But as everybody ought to look upon all general reflections, where no proof is offered at, to be only mere aspersions; so I depend upon it that I shall be able to convict any man, to his own shame, that shall dare to produce any particular instance against me, of my having taken anything for the disposal of any employment. I am sensible my enemies have not wanted inclination to have done this long ago, if there had been any room for it; and it is no small vindication of me, that their own impudence, as great as it is in this respect, has not carried them so far as to offer at any proof against me of this nature.

There is another public vindication of me which I think I ought to take notice of, and that is, that soon after the Queen came to the crown, I was the cause of having the strictest orders made against taking of money for the disposing of places that were ever known at the court; which, how consistent it was with having any designs of my own of making money that way, I leave any one to judge. In the green cloth I found means of making it necessary, for every one that came into any employment there, to make an oath, in the strictest terms that could be, that he did not pay anything for it. And though I could not so easily procure any such effectual means to prevent the same practice with respect to the dispensing of other employments, yet I often pressed the Queen to do all that was possible in it; and upon this there was an order of council made, which everybody knows of, about it. All this, I hope, is sufficient to clear me from anything cast upon me with respect to the disposal of employments.

Extract from a work called “Sylva, or the Wood,” published in 1788; describing the limited education of the Duchess, and the manner in which she delivered the Vindication of her Conduct, so often referred to in this Volume, to Mr. Hooke.[^[507]]

The “old Sarah,” as she was then called, published, in 1742, an Account of her Conduct under Queen Anne; which account, by the way, affords an excellent insight into the manœuvres of a court, and would greatly confirm the idea given of it in the two preceding numbers. She was assisted herein by Mr. Hooke, the historian, to whom, though oppressed with the infirmities of age, and almost bed-rid, she would continue speaking for six hours together. She delivered to him her account without any notes, in the most lively, as well as the most connected manner; and though the correction of the language is left to Hooke, yet the whole is plainly animated with her spirit; and as some philosophers have said of Saul with regard to body, she was tota in toto, et tota in qualibet parte. She was of a strong understanding and uncommon sagacity, which I premise to justify my wonder at the strange neglect of education among the females; for her woman would have written as well, and perhaps better.

Here follow, merely as curiosities, two letters from her own handwriting, directed “For Doctor Clarke, att his haus near St. James’ Church,” without alteration of either grammar or orthography; that is verbatim et liberatim, as Mrs. Bellamy upon a like occasion expresses.

An Inventory of the Jewels belonging to the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough.—Copied from the Coxe Manuscripts, vol. xlviii.

	Weight.		Value.
	Car.	Gr.	£	s.	d.
In the Duke of Marlborough’s George, eleven jewels	0	95
A brilliant of the first water, and very lively weight, in a ring; the gift of the Emperor	10	1½	900	0	0
A brilliant drawing to the crown, and a fowle on one side; the gift of the king of Prussia, in a coulant to a cross	13	0¼	1,500	0	0
In her grace the Duchess of Marlborough’s earrings, the two brilliants under			900	0	0
A fine spread brilliant, the bottom very deep, drawing upon the blue	6	2¾	450	0	0
A high-crowned brilliant, good water, and perfect cleane	7	0½	450	0	0
A clear lively stone, well spread, but a little drawing, (in the cross)	5	2½	300	0	0
A fine stone of good water, perfectly cleane, but thin, (the middle stone of a button for a loope)	2	3½	150	0	0
A spread stone, but drawing to the crown, (in a collet for a little cross)	3	1¾	150	0	0
A good water, and a fine lively cleane brilliant, (in the cross)	4	1¾	130	0	0
A fine lively cleane stone, but drawing in the water, (in the cross)	4	2½	130	0	0
The middle stone of a button for a loope, very white, extremely spread, and cleane and lively	2	0¾	100	0	0
A very fine stone, in all perfection of colour and cleaness, (in the cross)	2	1¾	60	0	0
A cleane stone, a little drawing, (in the cross)	2	2¼	60	0	0
A brilliant of the first water, and almost perfectly cleane, (in a ring)	5	0	210	0	0
One fassett diamond drawing	2	3¼	100	0	0
The other fassett drawing yellowish. The two middle stones of the button	2	0½	80	0	0
Forty-four fassetts in the loopes	7	2	45	0	0
Sixteen fassetts in the buttons above	9	0	72	0	0
Two high fassett diamonds through the four points in buttons, each set round with eleven brilliants, all valued at			220	0	0
Forty-four fassett diamonds in the two loopes			35	0	0
Twenty-two fassett diamonds in a buckle			60	0	0
Two loopes with forty brilliants in them
Twenty-four brilliants round the two brilliant buttons
Twelve buttons of the same sort			355	0	0
Twelve loopes that go with them			135	0	0
Two buttons of another fashion, with seven diamonds, each of them about the bigness of the middle stone			130	0	0
Two loopes, with thirteen diamonds in each, and one large diamond at the bottom of each loope			210	0	0
Four buttons, with nine diamonds in each, of another fashion and smaller			50	0	0
Four loopes, with ten diamonds in each loope			25	0	0
A fine large rose diamond, perfect cleane, set for a coulant			360	0	0
Five fossett diamonds in a cross			220	0	0
A pair of ruby earrings set with brilliants about them, and a cross and coulant set with diamonds, and a pearle necklace to it, with rubies mixt with them, all at			90	0	0
A blue enamelled cross set with diamonds			20	0	0
A pair of shoe-buckles set with fossett diamonds			20	0	0
A large brilliant in a ring, in which is his grace the Duke of Marlborough’s picture			800	0	0
Two rose diamonds cut through the pints, very high, cleane and lively			170	0	0
Two middle drops to earrings			160	0	0
Four side drops to ditto			70	0	0
A yellow rose diamond, set in a ring which his grace wears			150	0	0
A large brilliant ring; the gift of the Emperor			1,500	0	0
A large rose diamond set in a ring; the gift of the King of Poland			1,500	0	0

Endorsed in the Duchess’s handwriting with these words:

“All the brilliants and other small diamonds, except those described in this book, were bought with the Duchess’s own money, as likewise all the pearles of every sort. The two best pendant drops cost of Mr. Dolbin 500l., and were once valued at 2,200l.”

Dated December the 30th, 1718, from a book of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough’s.—Additional Catalogue.

A large pearl necklace, containing thirty-nine pearls; the two end pearls are what are called pendant pearls.

Two very large pendant pearls that cost five hundred pounds, but are valued at more than double the price, set in earrings with two brilliant diamonds.

Two hundred and eighty-four pearls in a string, for a bracelet.

Three strings in a necklace, with a brilliant hook. Near four hundred pearls in three; and the hook contains sixteen diamonds.

One hundred and forty-seven pearls in a bracelet, with the Duke of Marlborough’s picture.

Nine old pearls.

A pair of pendants, with eight false French pearls, set about with brilliants.

A pair of ruby earrings, with six drops, set round with diamonds.

A ruby cross, set round with diamonds.

In the necklace twenty-six fossett diamonds; all the rubies false but the middle one and those in the cross.

Five large diamonds in a cross; one very large one for the middle collet, one large one to buckle it behind, with two little ones: in all nine.

A brilliant buckle for a girdle, with sixteen diamonds.

A brilliant buckle for the Duke of Marlborough’s picture, with eight diamonds and a drop.

Such another buckle for four pictures of my daughters.

The Duke of Marlborough’s picture in a ring.

A large buckle for a girdle of fossetts.

A buckle for a girdle of lesser fossetts.

Four diamond buckles and loops, to put on the neck of a manteau.

Six diamond buckles and loops for manteau sleeves: there is in the loops for the sleeves one hundred and twenty-four diamonds, some brilliants, and some fossetts.

Fifteen loops set for stays, and eight buttons.

One very fine ring fossett set transparent.

Six pendant drops set in a sprig, fossett stones all.

Six very fine brilliant drops in a pair of pendants, and two very fine fossetts for the earrings of those pendants.

A very large brilliant ring set transparent.

Two pins with four fossett diamonds.

Sixteen collets set with cristalls and hair; sixty little brilliants set in collets to go between the cristalls.

A buckle for one of the bracelets with eight little brilliants and a drop.

Ten brilliant buckles for stays, and two taggs (one lost.)

Eight little square buckles for a waistcoat, fossett, and ten taggs.

Seven little white brilliants, unsett.

A little yellow diamond for the hook of a necklace.

Madame d’Escalache’s picture in a locket.

Thirty-six brilliant collets, pretty large, for a necklace.

Seventeen of those diamonds generally used for the boddice.

A little bracelet with gold crosses.

A little locket of cristall with my Lord Godolphin’s hair.

A pair of earrings with four pretty large brilliant diamonds.

Two little diamond hooks to set drops upon.

Fourty-four small diamonds set in fassetts.

Thirteen more of the same sort.

Two small fassett drops with two little diamonds, for earrings.

Two diamond knotts with false blue stones, for earrings.

A large amethyst ring.

A small Turkey ring.

Two French pearls with diamond tops.

A pair of diamond knotts with false green earrings.

A pair of diamond knotts with eight false green stones.

A ring with my mother’s hair, and four brilliant diamonds.

A gold snuff-box, with two of the Duke of Marlborough’s pictures in it.

A gold snuff-box, with the Duchess of Portsmouth’s picture in it.

A pair of shoe-buckles.

Lady Anne Egerton’s and Lady Dye’s diamonds, that are in use, are not in this account.

Mr. Gibson valued the best pearl necklace by weight that was bought of the Duchess of Beaufort at six hundred and eight pounds, and said he would give so much for it to sell it again, in October, 1715; and besides that, there were five pearls added to it, bought of the Duchess of Montague.

A little diamond hook to a garnet necklace.[^[508]]

An Account of what the Grant of Marlborough-House has cost the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough.[^[509]]

Paid to Sir Richard Beeling, upon a pretended debt of Queen Dowager’s, two thousand pounds.

Building the house, and making the garden, very near fifty thousand pounds.

That article seems almost incredible, but it is not really so extravagant as it appears, because it is the strongest and best house that ever was built; and if it were worth the trouble to look into old accounts when they signify nothing, I could prove what I have said by the payments out of the accounts. As to what has been paid for two grants in Queen Anne’s time, there being a mistake in one of them which occasioned another, and the renewal in King George the First’s time; likewise the fine and payments upon account of the four little houses to make the way, must have cost a good deal. But it is not worth the trouble of summing up the particulars. The yearly rents I pay to the crown are five shillings; and thirteen pounds fifteen shillings for Marlborough-house; and thirteen pounds fifteen shillings for the four little houses. The land-tax for Marlborough-house is sixty pounds a year; for the four little houses I don’t know what it is. The Examiner magnified the vast profit I had by this grant from the crown, which it never cost one shilling. Likewise a great value was set upon the advantage of the lodges in Windsor Park. None of the expense of building either was done by the crown; and it cost the Duchess of Marlborough a great sum of money to make those two lodges what they are, who lost an arrear due from King George the First, the allowance for keeping the Park. After that, his present Majesty, by letters patent under the privy seal, bearing date the twenty-ninth day of June, in the second year of his reign, was pleased to grant to the ranger of the Great Park at Windsor an allowance of five hundred pounds a year in consideration of the charge of supplying hay for feed of the deer, and paying under-keepers, and gate-keepers, and other subordinate officers doing duty or service there, their wages; and to authorise and direct the payment of the said fee, salary, or allowance, at the receipt of the Exchequer, quarterly, out of his treasure applicable to the uses of his civil government. This salary was stopt by another order at Christmas, 1736, since which time the Duchess of Marlborough has been at the whole charge of all the payments in his Majesty’s Park; notwithstanding that by her grant she has as strong a right to it as anybody can have from the crown. And though Queen Anne gave her this grant, at King George’s coming to the crown she paid the usual fees as if it had been given her then, and which ’tis plain, by what has passed since, could not be taken from her. But she did not think it worth making a dispute about that. There is likewise in the order to recal the payment, from the crown, that Mr. Bridgman should not continue his payment for an allowance he had for keeping one of the King’s gardens in the Park. That is a thing I don’t pretend to have a right to have, for it is not in my grant; nor do I know more of it than that my Lord Ranelagh, when he reduced the prices of the gardeners to the crown, I suppose to please some former ranger before I had it, obliged the gardeners to pay a hundred pounds a year to the gardener that kept that garden in the Great Park. And likewise they paid an allowance out of theirs for keeping the garden that comes into the Little Park; and some allowance for some fruit-trees planted in that park. But I don’t know the particulars of the last exactly, because I have computed that this grant of Marlborough-house, which the crown never paid one shilling for, besides the constant rent of the crown, and taxes, at fifteen hundred pounds a year. Now money is at three per cent.

This statement terminates thus abruptly.

[1]. It is the impression of her descendant, Earl Spencer, that the Duchess was born at Holywell: and the facts which are stated in chapter i. p. [10] of the first volume, and for which the Authoress is indebted to the kindness of Mr. Nicholson, abundantly prove that conviction to be just.

[2]. Life of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, 1745, p. 61.

[3]. Collins’s Baronage, art. Churchill.

[4]. The letter, now amongst the papers of John Bennet Lawes, Esq., the descendant of Sir John Wittewronge, Bart., is too much mutilated to be copied or inserted in the appendix. The Duchess, from the vicinity of Sandridge to Rothamsted Park, was probably early acquainted with the family of Wittewronge. She bought some land from Sir John Wittewronge.—See her Grace’s will.

[5]. A Letter from the Duchess. Private Correspondence of the Duke of Marlborough. Colburn, 1837, vol. ii. p. 112.

[6]. For a more detailed account of the Jennings or Jennyns family, see Appendix I.

[7]. Sandridge is a straggling and by no means picturesque village, in the vicinity of St. Albans. The property once belonging to the Jennings family descended to the favourite grandson of the Duchess, Lord John Spencer, (commonly called “Jack Spencer,”) and was sold by the present Lord Spencer to John Kinder, Esq., who has built a handsome house on the estate.

The manor of Sandridge, at the time of the dissolution, formed part of the possessions of the Abbot of St. Albans, and is thus described in the Domesday Survey. “It answered for ten hides. There is land to thirteen ploughs. The Abbot himself holds Sandridge. Three hides are in the demesne, and there are two ploughs here, and a third may be made. Twenty-six villanes here have ten ploughs Meadow for two ploughs. Pasture for the cattle. Pasturage for three hundred hogs. The whole value is 18l. When received 12l. And the same in King Edward’s time.”—Clutterbuck’s Hist. of Hertfordshire, p. 216.

Upon the dissolution, this manor came to the crown, and was granted by charter, anno 32 Henry VIII., to Ralph Rowlat, whose sister married Ralph Jennings, the grandfather of Richard Jennings.

[8]. With the day of her birth I have been assisted by the kindness of a friend. Coxe mentions merely the year.

[9]. I am enabled, by the kindness and intelligence of the Rev. Henry Nicholson, rector of the Abbey of St. Alban’s, to give the corroborating evidence to this fact. A member of the highly respectable family of a former rector of St. Albans distinctly recollects that it used to be the boast of her aunt, an old lady of eighty, not many years deceased, that she had herself been removed, when ill of the small-pox, to the very room in the house where Sarah Duchess of Marlborough was born. This was a small building since pulled down, and its site is now occupied by a summer-house, between what is called Holywell-street and Sopwell-lane in St. Alban’s, and within the space afterwards occupied by the pleasure-grounds of the great house at Holywell. Holywell is said by tradition to have been so called, because in it was a well, marked in an old map of St. Albans, where the nuns of Sopwell used to dip their crusts, too hard to be eaten without such a process.

[10]. Clutterbuck’s History of Hertfordshire, p. 57.

[11]. Bishop Burnet’s Hist. of His Own Times, vol. v. p. 53.

[12]. Granger, art. M. B.

[13]. Macpherson’s Hist. of Great Britain, vol. i. p. 174.

[14]. Macpherson, p. 177.

[15]. Life of James II., edited by Macpherson, vol. i. p. 73.

[16]. Hist. Brit., vol. i. p. 178.

[17]. See Archdeacon Coxe’s Life of John Duke of Marlborough, vol. i. Introduction, p. 45; also Lediard’s Life of Marlborough. For a further account of the Churchill name and lineage, see Appendix II.

[18]. See Coxe, p. 47 and 49.

[19]. See Grammont.

[20]. This early exploit was the result of a wager of Turenne’s. “I will bet a supper and a dozen of claret,” said the general, “that my handsome Englishman will recover the post with half the number of men commanded by the officer who has lost it.” The wager was accepted and won.—Lediard, vol. i.

[21]. Coxe, p. 9.

[22]. Lord Chesterfield’s Letters, 136.

[23]. For a specimen of the errors, in this respect, imputed to the Duke, see Appendix, No. I., in an extract from the newspapers of his time.

[24]. “Divi Britannici; being a Remark on all the Kings of this isle, from the year of the world 2855 unto the year of Grace 1660.”—General Biography, art. Churchill.

[25]. Coxe, p. 1, 2.

[26]. See Life of Zarah, p. 2.

[27]. Life of Zarah, p. 3.

[28]. Collins’s Baronage, vol. ii. p. 131.

[29]. Collins’s Baronage, art. Churchill.

[30]. Coxe, i. 13.

[31]. Chesterfield’s Letters, p. 136.

[32]. Bishop Burnet alludes to this intrigue between Marlborough and the Duchess. “The Duchess of Cleveland, finding that she had lost the king, abandoned herself to great disorders; one of which, by the artifice of the Duke of Buckingham, was discovered by the king in person.”—Hist. of his own Times, vol. i. p. 370.

[33]. Burnet, vol. i. p. 129.

[34]. Grammont, vol. ii. p. 284.

[35]. Chesterfield’s Letters, p. 136.

[36]. From 1675 to 1678. See Coxe, vol. i. 15.

[37]. Life of John Duke of Marlborough, p. 39.

[38]. See Coxe, 14, 15.

[39]. Continuation of Lord Clarendon’s Life, p. 167.

[40]. Ibid., p. 148.

[41]. Granger.

[42]. Lediard, p. 32.

[43]. Echard’s Hist. Revolution, p. 113.

[44]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 15.

[45]. Coxe.

[46]. Lediard.

[47]. Coxe.

[48]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 18.

[49]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 18.

[50]. See Coxe, from Lives of Marlborough and Eugene, vol. i. p. 15.

[51]. Dalrymple, Appendix, p. 239.

[52]. Lediard, p. 39, 40.

[53]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 19.

[54]. Coxe.

[55]. Coxe.

[56]. Lediard.

[57]. Boyer, p. 36.

[58]. Granger.

[59]. Macpherson’s Hist. England, p. 365.

[60]. Boyer.

[61]. Granger, vol. i. p. 8.

[62]. Ibid.

[63]. Private Correspondence of the Duchess of Marlborough, vol. ii. p. 116.

[64]. Priv. Correspondence.

[65]. Granger, art. Anne.

[66]. Boyer, p. 716.

[67]. Ibid.

[68]. Four last Years of Queen Anne’s Reign, vol. xii. p. 11.

[69]. Granger.

[70]. Four last Years, p. 11.

[71]. Conduct.

[72]. Conduct, p. 11–15.

[73]. Conduct, p. 10.

[74]. Lord Wharncliffe’s edition of Lady M. W. Montague’s Works, vol. i.

[75]. The Life of Colley Cibber.

[76]. Burnet’s History of his own Times, vol. i. p. 756.

[77]. Conduct, p. 11.

[78]. Ibid., p. 20.

[79]. Conduct, p. 13.

[80]. Conduct, p. 15.

[81]. Coxe, 27.

[82]. Conduct, p. 13.

[83]. Conduct, p. 12.

[84]. Coxe, 28.

[85]. Dalrymple, i. 104.

[86]. Ibid.

[87]. Life of St. Evremond. See Notes to Grammont, vol. ii. p. 351.

[88]. Brian Fairfax’s Life of the Duke of Buckingham, quoted in Grammont.

[89]. Macpherson, vol. i. p. 384.

[90]. Grammont, ii. 190.

[91]. Burnet, vol. i. p. 368.

[92]. See Notes to Grammont, vol. i. p. 329.

[93]. Ibid. 261.

[94]. See Opinions of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough. Edit. 1784, p. 4.

[95]. £20,000 a year.

[96]. Ibid. p. 6.

[97]. Boyer’s Life of Anne, p. 3.

[98]. See letters from the Princess of Denmark to the Princess of Orange in Dalrymple’s Mem. vol. ii. Appendix.

[99]. Conduct, p. 16.

[100]. Coxe, i. 33.

[101]. Conduct.

[102]. Coxe, 34.

[103]. Conduct, p. 16.

[104]. Tindal, vol. xv. p. 150.

[105]. Four Last Years of Queen Anne, p. 10.

[106]. See Oliver’s Pocket Looking Glass, printed 1711, p. 25.

[107]. Coxe, p. 34.

[108]. Dalrymple, book v. p. 215.

[109]. Dalrymple, book v. p. 215.

[110]. Dalrymple, 228, book v.

[111]. See Coxe, Lediard.

[112]. Macpherson, ii. 479; Clarendon’s Diary, Nov. 9, 1688.

[113]. Conduct.

[114]. Tindal, xv. p. 200.

[115]. Before the Princess had sent to declare her distress.

[116]. Conduct, p. 16.

[117]. Tindal, p. 75, vol. xv. See Appendix.

[118]. Dalrymple, b. vi. p. 230.

[119]. Life of Colley Cibber, p. 48.

[120]. The Other Side of the Question, in a Letter to Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of.... By a Woman of Quality. Ed. London, 1742, p. 5.

[121]. Conduct, p. 19.

[122]. Life of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, 1746, p. 6.

[123]. Life of John Duke of Marlborough, by Lediard.

[124]. Other Side of the Question, p. 11.

[125]. Other Side of the Question, 11.

[126]. Dalrymple, b. vi. p. 232.

[127]. Macpherson, i. p. 516.

[128]. Burnet, iv. 193.

[129]. Noble’s edition of Granger, vol. i. p. 13.

[130]. Burnet.

[131]. Macpherson, vol. i. p. 308, apud d’Avaux.

[132]. Dalrymple, Burnet, Tindal, Macpherson.

[133]. Dalrymple, b. vi. p. 269.

[134]. Tindal, vol. xv. p. 280.

[135]. Macpherson.

[136]. Dalrymple, b. vi. p. 270.

[137]. Dalrymple, b. vi. p. 270.

[138]. Dalrymple, b. vi. p. 270.

[139]. Conduct, p. 22.

[140]. Conduct, p. 22.

[141]. Dalrymple, b. i. p. 90.

[142]. Granger. Edited by Noble. art. Russell.

[143]. Dalrymple.

[144]. Burnet, vol. iv. p. 196.

[145]. Ibid.

[146]. Ibid.

[147]. Dalrymple, b. ii. p. 113.

[148]. Ibid. b. vii. p. 272.

[149]. Dalrymple, b. vi. p. 238.

[150]. Conduct.

[151]. Dalrymple, b. vii. p. 276.

[152]. Macpherson, vol. i. p. 512.

[153]. Burnet, v. 69.

[154]. Burnet.

[155]. Conduct, p. 25.

[156]. Doctor Birch’s Notes from the Princess Anne’s Letters to her Sister. See Sir John Dalrymple’s Memoirs.

[157]. Dalrymple, vol. ii. part ii. b. i. p. 305.

[158]. In 1708 the hinges of the portcullis were remaining.

[159]. Among others, those near the water were occupied by the late Duchess of Portland.—Smith’s Antiquities of Westminster, vol. i. p. 19.

[160]. Conduct, p. 29.

[161]. See Dalrymple.

[162]. Conduct, p. 28.

[163]. Conduct, p. 30.

[164]. Boyer, p. 6.

[165]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 60.

[166]. Conduct, p. 30.

[167]. Conduct, p. 32.

[168]. See Private Correspondence.

[169]. He was called in Ireland, when he was appointed by Anne lord lieutenant, Polyphemus, or Ireland’s Eye.—Noble’s Granger, vol. i. p. 51.

[170]. Conduct.

[171]. Tindal, vol. xvi. p. 502.

[172]. Conduct, p. 35.

[173]. Ibid. 37.

[174]. Ibid.

[175]. Noble’s edition of Granger, vol. ii. p. 18.

[176]. Macpherson.

[177]. Noble, art. Godolphin.

[178]. Dean Swift’s Four Last Years of Queen Anne, p. 12.

[179]. Boyer, p. 17.

[180]. Ibid.

[181]. Swift, p. 12.

[182]. Four Last Years, p. 12.

[183]. Swift.

[184]. Conduct, p. 37.

[185]. Conduct, p. 38.

[186]. Macpherson.

[187]. Letter written soon after the Revolution, by Daniel Finch, Esq. of Nottingham. Dalrymple’s Mem. vol. ii. p. 79.

[188]. Boyer, p. 357.

[189]. Conduct, p. 38.

[190]. Ibid.

[191]. Correspondence, vol. i. p. 44.

[192]. Ibid. p. 27.

[193]. Coxe, vol. i. 4to. p. 18.

[194]. Lediard.

[195]. Coxe.

[196]. Lediard, p. 103.

[197]. Dalrymple.

[198]. Dalrymple, part II. b. i. p. 300.

[199]. Dalrymple, part ii. b. i. p. 300.

[200]. Tindal, Dalrymple, Burnet.

[201]. Burnet, vol. iv. p. 2.

[202]. Ibid. p. 5.

[203]. Swift’s Four Last Years of Queen Anne, p. 16.

[204]. Swift.

[205]. Boyer, App.; Tindal, Burnet.

[206]. Sir William Temple’s Memoirs. See Boyer, App. p. 49.

[207]. Boyer, Appendix, p. 57.

[208]. Noble, vol. i. p. 61.

[209]. See Coxe, note, vol. i. p. 61.

[210]. Coxe, p. 59.

[211]. Lediard, p. 107.

[212]. Ibid. p. 105.

[213]. Coxe, p. 59.

[214]. Lediard, vol. i. p. 105.

[215]. Conduct, p. 42.

[216]. Conduct, p. 43.

[217]. Notes to Grammont, vol. ii. p. 324.

[218]. Granger and Grammont, from Coles’s State Papers.

[219]. She was the daughter of Sir Matthew Boynton, and sister-in-law to the famous Earl of Roscommon.

[220]. Notes to Grammont, vol. ii. p. 328.

[221]. Lediard, p. 111.

[222]. Ibid.

[223]. Other Side of the Question, p. 70.

[224]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 63.

[225]. Lediard, p. 111.

[226]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 61.

[227]. Other Side of the Question, p. 48.

[228]. Conduct, p. 42.

[229]. See Appendix, No. IV., for the rest of this letter, and for others upon the same subject.

[230]. Conduct.

[231]. Conduct, p. 48. See Appendix V. for Queen Mary’s two letters to Lady Churchill.

[232]. Other Side of the Question, p. 75.

[233]. Conduct, p. 55. See Appendix.

[234]. Whitehall, partly rebuilt by James I., who found it in a ruinous state, comprehended within its walls, although unfinished, different suites of rooms, in which the various members of the royal family, their several retinues, the great officers of state, and in the times of Charles the Second and James, the female favourites of those monarchs who could sanction their pretensions.—Pennant’s London, v. i. p. 191.

[235]. Conduct, p. 58. See Appendix VI.

[236]. Elizabeth Percy, Duchess of Somerset, daughter and sole heiress of Joceline Percy, Earl of Northumberland. This lady had been affianced to Henry Cavendish, Earl of Ogle, only son of Henry Duke of Newcastle, but his early death, in 1680, prevented the completion of the nuptials. The Duchess afterwards supplanted the Duchess of Marlborough in the confidence of Queen Anne.—Granger, vol. iii. p. 437.

[237]. Charles Seymour, commonly called the proud Duke of Somerset.

[238]. It may here be observed, that probably this firmness and propriety of conduct on the part of the Duke and Duchess of Somerset laid the foundation of that partiality which Anne evinced towards them, to the prejudice, as it proved, of her earlier friends. The Duchess, or, as the Duchess of Marlborough was wont to call her, “the great lady,” was an avowed opponent of the Tory party, and became in after life a most influential, as well as a most active friend to Whig principles.

[239]. Notes to Berwick’s Memoirs, vol. i. p. 424.

[240]. Conduct.

[241]. Tindal, vol. xvi. p. 517.

[242]. Dalrymple’s Memoirs.

[243]. Notes to Berwick’s Memoirs, p. 426.

[244]. Marshal Berwick, the son of James II., and the nephew of Marlborough, was twice married. His first wife was a daughter of the Earl of Clanricarde, and in 1699 he married a lady attached to the court of the exiled Queen of England, and niece of Lord Bulkley.—Memoirs of the Duke of Berwick, vol. i. p. 17.

[245]. Autobiography of James II., edited by Macpherson, p. 235.

[246]. Ibid.

[247]. Dalrymple, b. vii. part ii. p. 493.

[248]. Dalrymple, p. ii. b. vii. p. 493.

[249]. Russell avoided an engagement with the French fleet: he never failed entreating King James to prevent the meeting of the two fleets, assuring him that as an officer and an Englishman, he could not avoid firing on the first French ship that came in his way, even if he should see the King on the quarter-deck.—Notes to Berwick’s Memoirs.

[250]. Tindal, xvi. p. 531.

[251]. Dalrymple.

[252]. Conduct, p. 60.

[253]. Conduct, p. 63.

[254]. Conduct, p. 62.

[255]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 34.

[256]. See Appendix, VII.

[257]. Conduct.

[258]. Note in Coxe, vol. i. p. 9.

[259]. Coxe.

[260]. Life of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, p. 41.

[261]. Life of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, p. 39.

[262]. Burnet.

[263]. Coxe, vol. vi. p. 216.

[264]. Opinions of the Duchess of Marlborough. See Private Correspondence, Colburn, 1837, vol. ii. p. 125.

[265]. Ibid.

[266]. Burnet.

[267]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 69.

[268]. Conduct, p. 74.

[269]. Lord Cholmondeley, to whom the Duchess addressed her Vindication.

[270]. Conduct, p. 74.

[271]. See Horace Walpole’s Letters to Sir Horace Mann.

[272]. Conduct, p. 73.

[273]. Conduct, p. 79.

[274]. Conduct, p. 80.

[275]. Conduct, p. 18.

[276]. Opinions of the Duchess. Private Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 120. Colburn.

[277]. Conduct, p. 98, 99.

[278]. Ibid.

[279]. Conduct, pp. 98, 99.

[280]. Pennant, p. 171.

[281]. Dalrymple, b. vii. p. 508.

[282]. See Mary’s Letters to William III. Dalrymple, Appendix, p. 129.

[283]. Conduct, p. 103.

[284]. Ibid., edition 1742, p. 109.

[285]. Conduct, p. 285.

[286]. Burnet, iv. p. 149.

[287]. Lady Derby was Lady Elizabeth Butler, daughter of Thomas Earl of Ossory; married to George ninth Earl of Derby, who died in 1702, and was succeeded by James tenth Earl, who had been groom of the bedchamber to William the Third.—Burke’s Peerage.

[288]. Conduct, p. 106.

[289]. Burnet.

[290]. Conduct, p. 107.

[291]. Burnet, p. 199.

[292]. Swift. Last Years of Queen Anne’s Reign, p. 6.

[293]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 74.

[294]. Conduct, p. 110.

[295]. Conduct, p. 115.

[296]. Conduct, p. 111.

[297]. Conduct.

[298]. Walpole’s Reminiscences, p. 315.

[299]. Walpole’s Noble Authors, p. 190.

[300]. See Appendix, VIII.

[301]. Conduct, p. 114.

[302]. Conduct, p. 115.

[303]. Dalrymple, b. iv. p. 78.

[304]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 74.

[305]. Dalrymple, b. iii. p. 56.

[306]. Coxe. From the Shrewsbury Papers.

[307]. Coxe, p. 82.

[308]. Coxe, p. 86. From the Duchess’s Narrative. Green Book.

[309]. Dalrymple, book v. p. 88.

[310]. Lediard, p. 118.

[311]. Conduct, p. 117.

[312]. Conduct, p. 119.

[313]. Boyer, p. 7.

[314]. It is told of Burnet, that on the consecration of some bishops, Bishop Williams was appointed to preach the sermon at Bow Church. The clerk had twice given out the psalm, and still the bishop, detained by some accident, did not appear. Burnet was desired by the Archbishop of Canterbury to supply his place. He did so, and preached one of the best sermons he had ever been known to deliver.

[315]. Johnson’s Lives of the Poets, art. Rochester. See also Life of Bishop Burnet, by Thomas Burnet, Esq.

Burnet, Hist. of his own Times, vol. iv. p. 307.

[316]. Vol. iv. p. 207.

[317]. Reminiscences, p. 341.

[318]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 92. See Note.

[319]. Life of Halifax.

[320]. Burnet, vol. iv. p. 302.

[321]. Coxe, p. 94.

[322]. Granger, vol. ii. p. 373.

[323]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 95.

[324]. Ibid.

[325]. Cunningham’s History of Great Britain, book iv. p. 171.

[326]. Granger, vol. ii. p. 46.

[327]. Coxe, p. 96.

[328]. Cunningham’s History of Great Britain, book v. p. 301.

[329]. Coxe.

[330]. See Swift’s Letters.

[331]. Granger, vol. ii. p. 372.

[332]. Clutterbuck’s Hist. Hertfordshire, p. 19.

[333]. See Appendix VIII. The Epitaph of Lady Bridgwater.

[334]. Collins’s Baronage, vol. ii. p. 319.

[335]. Horace Walpole, Rem. p. 315.

[336]. Cunningham.

[337]. Coxe, p. 88.

[338]. Burnet, vol. iv. p. 358.

[339]. Ibid.

[340]. Coxe, p. 88.

[341]. Dalrymple, Appendix.

[342]. Coxe, from Macpherson’s Hist., vol. ii. p. 130.

[343]. Dalrymple, b. vii. p. 132.

[344]. Coxe.

[345]. Cunningham, vol. i. p. 252.

[346]. Dalrymple.

[347]. Flying Post, 1702.

[348]. Dalrymple.

[349]. Burnet, vol. v. p. 69.

[350]. Marlborough’s Apotheosis, p. 11. London, 1714.

[351]. Reminiscences, p. 313.

[352]. With one exception: in her “Conduct” she seems to imply that the Duke of Marlborough had held no correspondence whatsoever with James the Second. She does not, indeed, say so; but disingenuously says, if Lord Marlborough had acted so and so. There was abundant proof of his negociations with the exiled family.

[353]. Such is the style of the work, entitled, “The Other Side of the Question,” and also of the “Review of a late Treatise, entitled ‘An Account of the Conduct of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, &c.,’ in a Letter addressed to a Person of Distinction.” In this work, which was written by a nobleman, there seems to be more of invective than of fact.

[354]. Lord Wharncliffe’s edition of Lady Mary W. Montague’s Letters. Introduction, p. 75.

[355]. Review of a late Treatise, &c., p. 53.

[356]. Horace Walpole’s Reminiscences.

[357]. Conduct, p. 21.

[358]. Cunningham, vol. i. p. 257.

[359]. London Gazette.

[360]. Cunningham, Boyer, Dalrymple, Somerville.

[361]. Flying Post, or Postmaster. March 8, 1702.

[362]. Postboy. March 10.

[363]. Character of Anne by the Duchess.

[364]. Somerville’s Queen Anne.

[365]. Boyer, p. 15.

[366]. London Courant, April 24th, 1702; Flying Post, 1702.

[367]. Ibid. April 23rd.

[368]. Daily Courant, April 15th.

[369]. Review of a late Treatise, &c., p. 22.

[370]. Cunningham, b. v. p. 259.

[371]. Conduct, p. 121.

[372]. Conduct.

[373]. Ibid. p. 125.

[374]. Conduct, p. 126.

[375]. Mrs. Hannah More.

[376]. Conduct.

[377]. Churchill’s Annals, 1702.

[378]. Swift. Four Years of Anne.

[379]. See Bishop Watson’s Life.

[380]. Life and Character of John Lord Somers, by Richard Cooksey, Esq. 1791.

[381]. Maddock’s Life of Somers, p. 34.

[382]. Swift.

[383]. Four Last Years, p. 7.

[384]. Cooksey’s Life of Somers.

[385]. Ibid.

[386]. Private Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 148.

[387]. Private Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 149.

[388]. Halifax was called “Mouse Montague,” from the circumstance of Lord Dorset’s presenting him to William the Third as a Mouse.—Granger’s Biography.

[389]. Private Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 153.

[390]. See Dedication to the fourth volume of Tatler.

[391]. Dedication to the Tatler.

[392]. Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 156.

[393]. Cunningham, vol. vi. p. 316.

[394]. Ibid.

[395]. Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 154.

[396]. Pope’s Epistle to Arbuthnot.

[397]. Four Last Years, p. 9.

[398]. Freeholder, p. 39. May 4, 1716.

[399]. Horace Walpole.

[400]. Collins’s Baronage, vol. i. p. 110.

[401]. In a poem, entitled “An Allusion to the Bishop of Cambray’s Supplement to Homer.”

[402]. Collins’s Baronage, vol. i. p. 118.

[403]. Dalrymple, b. x. p. 130.

[404]. Cunningham, b. ii. p. 259.

[405]. See Cunningham.

[406]. His infamous example was renewed in that singular, gifted, and most profligate nobleman, his son, Philip Duke of Wharton. Modern times scarcely furnish a parallel to the character of this peer.

“Like Buckingham and Rochester,” says one who understood him well, “he comforted all the grave and dull, by throwing away the brightest profusion of parts on witty fooleries, which may mix graces with a great character, but can never compose one. If Julius Cæsar had only rioted with citizens, he had never been the emperor of the world.” The courage of this bad, wild, singular man was not equal to his assurance. Abuse sometimes displays cowardice; it is the cool and temperate who are usually courageous. Lord Wharton, with the levity of a man who really loved nothing but pleasure, and really prized nothing but self-interest, could jest at his own want of heroism. When seized by the guard in St. James’s Park for singing the Jacobite air, “The King shall have his Own again,” as he has himself recorded in his ballad,

“The duke he drew out half his sword,

The guard drew out the rest.”

The worst attribute of Philip Duke of Wharton, as a citizen of the world, was his indifference to reputation. Men of pleasure are not generally indifferent to a character for honour and consistency; but Lord Wharton cared merely for ephemeral applause. Attached, in reality, to no party, and having no actual motives but those of expediency, there was not the slightest dependence to be placed upon those visionary things, his opinions, beyond the moment when he was haranguing a popular assembly, or debating in the House of Lords. It is well known that at a later period, in 1723, upon the third reading of a Bill of Pains and Penalties against Atterbury Bishop of Rochester, Lord Wharton accomplished a brilliant display by a most dishonourable artifice. He went to Chelsea, where the minister resided, and professing his resolution to effect a reconciliation with the court by speaking against the Bishop, requested some suggestions upon the case. Thus enticed, the minister went over the whole argument with his lordship. Wharton returned to town, passed the night in drinking, (his libraries being, as Horace Walpole observes, made taverns,) went to the House of Lords, without going to bed, and made a most eloquent speech in favour of the Bishop, showing all the weak points of the arguments which he had thus surmounted, in the most able and masterly manner.

[407]. Horace Walpole’s Reminiscences.

[408]. Boyer, p. 14.

[409]. Conduct, p. 130.

[410]. Conduct, p. 131.

[411]. Ibid. p. 129.

[412]. Boyer, Appendix.

[413]. Lord Rochester married Henrietta, daughter of Lord Burlington, by whom he had five daughters and one son, who succeeded him in his titles. “He was,” says Mackay, “easily wound up to a passion.”—Pref. to Clarendon Papers, vol. i. p. 18.

[414]. Conduct, p. 132.

[415]. Conduct.

[416]. Boyer, p. 33.

[417]. Essay from the Quarterly Review.

[418]. Burnet.

[419]. Other Side of the Question, p. 157.

[420]. Remarks upon the Conduct, &c., p. 43.

[421]. Cunningham, b. iv. p. 125.

[422]. Cunningham, b. iv. p. 125.

[423]. Ibid.

[424]. Burnet, vol. v. p. 88.

[425]. Narrative on Mrs. Morley’s coming to town. St. Albans, 1709. Coxe, vol. i. p. 142.

[426]. Coxe, p. 153.

[427]. Coxe, Papers, B. M., vol. xli. p. 22.

[428]. Coxe, p. 158. From Marlborough Papers.

[429]. Coxe, Papers, p. 43.

[430]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 159–172.

[431]. Coxe, MSS. British Museum, vol. xli. folio, p. 11.

[432]. Coxe, 192. Note.

[433]. Cunningham, b. v. p. 296.

[434]. Boyer, p. 33.

[435]. Coxe, MSS., B. M.

[436]. Boyer, p. 35.

[437]. State of Europe, 1702.

[438]. Coxe, p. 202.

[439]. Marlborough Papers.

[440]. Conduct, p. 303.

[441]. Conduct, p. 305.

[442]. Coxe, p. 204.

[443]. See Lord Marlborough’s Letter, fragment. Coxe, p. 206.

[444]. Boyer, p. 37.

[445]. Cunningham, b. vi. p. 314.

[446]. The Duke of Ormond had recently, in a very gallant manner, taken Vigo, in conjunction with Sir George Rook. A great booty was taken, but whilst the Spaniards sustained a heavy loss, the English were not comparatively benefited. “A great deal of the treasure taken at Vigo,” says Burnet, “was embezzled, and fell into private hands; one of the galleons foundered at sea.”—Burnet, vol. v. p. 115.

[447]. Boyer, p. 37.

[448]. Coxe, p. 208.

[449]. Conduct, p. 295.

[450]. Cunningham, vol. vi. p. 314.

[451]. Lord Cowper’s Diary, MS., p. 16.

[452]. Private Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 126.

[453]. Cunningham, b. vi. p. 315.

[454]. Harley first saw the light in Bow-street, Covent Garden.

[455]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 210.

[456]. Burnet, vol. v. p. 125.

[457]. Boyer, p. 14.

[458]. Boyer, p. 14.

[459]. Royal and Noble Authors, p. 436.

[460]. Burnet, vol. i. p. 683.

[461]. Royal and Noble Authors, p. 436.

[462]. See MSS. Letters from Lord Sunderland, in which he extols the Duchess’s political exertions. Coxe, Papers B. M. Vol. xli. p. 13.

[463]. Burnet, vol. v. p. 123.

[464]. Cunningham, book v. p. 317.

[465]. Somerville, chap. xi. p. 27.

[466]. Burnet, vol. v. p. 120, 121.

[467]. Conduct, p. 136.

[468]. Conduct, p. 138.

[469]. Cunningham, b. v. p. 138.

[470]. Conduct.

[471]. Cunningham, p. 318.

[472]. Conduct, p. 142.

[473]. Ibid, 145.

[474]. Burnet, vol. v. p. 138.

[475]. Granger, vol. ii. p. 41.

[476]. Congreve’s Works.

[477]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 217.

[478]. Coxe, p. 220.

[479]. Ibid. vol. i. p. 219.

[480]. Collins’s Baronage, vol. i. p. 318.

[481]. Ibid.

[482]. MSS. Correspondence of the Duke of Marlborough. Coxe, Papers, vol. lxiv. p. 2.

[483]. Coxe, 228.

[484]. Lediard.

[485]. Coxe, vol. i. p. 228.

[486]. Noble, vol. i. p. 386.

[487]. See “Account of a Journey to England,” a scarce tract in the British Museum, written at the command of a nobleman in France. 1700.

[488]. These have since degenerated into the innocent race of dandies, that “domestic wonder of wonders,” as a modern writer terms the species—Sartor Resartus, p. 284.

[489]. See Letter to England. B. M.

[490]. Lord Chesterfield.

[491]. On the copy of this work, (1712,) in the British Museum, are written these words, “Splendidi Mendex.”

[492]. See Tract in British Museum.

[493]. Biographia Britannica, art Drake.

[494]. Biographia Britannica. He wrote the “Sham Lawyer, or Lucky Extravagant,” which he declares on the title-page to have been “damnably acted” at Drury Lane.

[495]. It is not likely that many people will now take the trouble to read the answers to the Duchess’s “Vindication.” The principal of these are, “Remarks on the Conduct of a certain Duchess, in a Letter from a Member of Parliament to a young Nobleman. 1742.” “The Other Side of the Question, in a Letter to her Grace, by a Woman of Quality. 1742.” The pamphlets for and against the Duke are numerous, and of various titles. “Oliver’s Pocket Looking Glass, 1711, new-framed and cleaned, to give a clear view of the Great Modern Colossus.” “No Queen, or no General. 1712.” “Rufinus, or the Favourite; a Poem.” “Our Ancestors as well as We, or Ancient Precedents for Modern Facts;” with others of less imposing titles. “The Story of the St. Alb—ns Ghost, or the Apparition of Mother Haggy. 1712;” a coarse, disgusting attempt to satirize the Duke and Duchess and their family.

[496]. See Swift’s Journal to Stella.

[497]. That is, stalks and all.—Quoted in Scott’s Life of Dean Swift.

[498]. Scott, p. 73.

[499]. Ibid., p. 76.

[500]. Ibid., p. 46.

[501]. Sheridan’s Life of Swift.

[502]. See Maddock’s Life of Somers; and also Cooksey’s, p. 21.

[503]. Swift, indeed, at the very moment that he was revising a new edition of the poem, wrote to his bookseller, hinting that he thought that his little parson cousin was at the bottom of the Tub.

[504]. Scott’s Life.

[505]. See notes by Hawkesworth. Swift’s Works.

[506]. Coxe MSS.

[507]. Page 287.

[508]. This curious list proves the exact habits of the Duchess.

[509]. Coxe MSS., vol. xliii. p. 158. Also copied from the Duchess’s own writing.

END OF VOLUME I.

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