Ken insisted that her seducer should marry her, and he carried his point, but William (with whom he had not been on friendly terms, before this event) resented the interference, and threatened to deprive his wife’s chaplain of his post.
The Princess was in despair when she found her favourite on the eve of departure, and endeavoured to compromise matters; but Ken would brook no half measures, and told his royal mistress roundly, that he would not remain in Holland unless requested to do so by the Prince, and that in person.
The matter was soon settled according to Ken’s own stipulations; but shortly afterwards he was back in England, and appointed to a royal chaplaincy by Charles II.
It seemed his fate, however, to fall out with his royal patrons, for the Court repairing to Winchester for the summer, Ken’s prebendal house was pitched on as a suitable residence for Madam Eleanor Gwynne; but the merry monarch had reckoned without his host, in every sense of the word, and no power on earth could persuade the Churchman to admit the siren.
It speaks well for Charles that he bore Ken no ill-will for his resistance, as he preferred him not long after to the See of Bath and Wells. But before the new Bishop entered on his Episcopal duties, the King fell sick, and Burnet bears testimony to the zeal with which Ken attended Charles’s deathbed, striving ‘to awaken his conscience, and speaking with great elevation, as of a man inspired.’
On the King’s death, the Bishop devoted himself to his Episcopal duties; he published several works, chiefly on divinity, and, disgusted with the ignorance of the people in his diocese, he founded several schools, trying, as he said, ‘to lay a foundation to make the next generation better.’
He was invariably courteous in his demeanour to all men, so much so, as to give some members of the Roman Catholic faith, a hope of his conversion; but he was a staunch Protestant, and withstood and denounced Popery, regardless of Court favour. Indeed, he spoke boldly from his own pulpit, but, more daring still, he admonished the Court on the subject, calling on them to hold fast by the reformed religion, and rebuking them for unmanly policy. James II. bore with Ken for a time, and was said to have done all in his power to gain over one, who was indeed a staunch champion of the creed, or opinion he professed; but Bath and Wells would listen to no overtures, and took his way to the Tower with the six other prelates. In spite of all these religious differences, Ken was loyal to the house of Stuart, and when William and the Revolution appeared, he refused to take the oath of allegiance, and was in consequence deprived of his bishopric—William perhaps not unwilling to pay off old scores.
Ken was much beloved in his diocese, and when he took his departure he was followed by the prayers and good wishes of all men; and now that the horizon had clouded over for him, there rose up a noble and faithful friend, ‘even like unto a brother, who was born for adversity.’
Lord Weymouth, who had been his fellow-collegian at Oxford, gladly availed himself of the plea that Longleat was in the diocese, and cordially bade the outcast welcome. In that beautiful home did the ex-Bishop reside for twenty years, treated with the greatest kindness and consideration, his own apartments assigned him (near the old library), allowed to come and go at his own free will, to enjoy perfect leisure, to choose and receive his friends, and pursue his literary labours in peace. Lord Weymouth’s only son, who died before his father, was of a studious and scholarly turn of mind, and he and Ken had friends in common, among others the celebrated Elizabeth Rowe, daughter of a Nonconformist minister at Frome of the name of Singer. She showed great talent at an early age, and Mr. Thynne took much pleasure in giving her lessons in Latin and French, when she came over to Longleat.
Dr. Harbin, Lord Weymouth’s chaplain, and the Rev. Izaak Walton of Poulshot, Ken’s nephew, were also members of this pleasant society. Had it not been for the failure of his health, the learned divine might have spent the evening of his days in peace and rest.