In the spring of 1654, Charles II was proclaimed King in South Molton, for the Wiltshire gentlemen who had risen against the Government, headed by Sir Joseph Wagstaff and led by Colonel Penruddock and Mr Hugh Groves, made their way so far west before they were overpowered. Sir Joseph escaped, but the other two leaders were beheaded at Exeter.
A little to the north of the town, and about eight miles south of Barnstaple, are the wide grounds of Castle Hill—broad lawns and slopes, clear streams, and rich feathery masses of woodland that, shaded and softened by distance, spread far away.
The Fortescues, not long after the Conquest, were granted lands in Devonshire, and in one generation after another they have come forward to take a part in public affairs—often a Samson's share of toil. Sir John Fortescue fought at Agincourt, and was chosen Governor of Meaux by Henry V. Sir Edward Fortescue, when he had surrendered Salcombe Castle, had the consolation of knowing that this fort had been held for the King later than any other place in Devonshire. Sir Faithful and Sir Nicholas Fortescue were distinguished commanders in the same war. In the reign of Henry VI, Sir Henry Fortescue was Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, though his fame is very much eclipsed by the greater brilliancy of his brother.
Sir John Fortescue, Lord Chief Justice, is usually spoken of as Lord Chancellor, though it is doubted whether he ever received a valid appointment; for when the honour was bestowed upon him, Yorkists and Lancastrians were already at war. As the trouble deepened, Sir John laid aside his robe for his sword, and fought bravely for the 'falling cause' in the terrible battle of Palm Sunday. Later, he accompanied the King and Queen in their flight, and while abroad, with courageous optimism, began to instruct the Prince in the 'lawes of his country and the duties of a King of England.' Of Sir John's two celebrated treatises—De Natura Legis Naturæ, and De Laudibus Legum Angliæ—the latter and most famous was specially compiled for the benefit of the Prince, and Sir Edward Coke has enthusiastically declared it 'worthy to be written in letters of gold for the weight and worthiness thereof.'
A Fortescue of a later generation who 'took to the law,' eventually became Master of the Rolls. He was a great friend of the poet Pope, and from the gentle mockery in some of the long letters of the poet still in existence, it would seem that Mr Fortescue had a proper share of prejudice in favour of his own county. In 1724 Pope writes: 'I am grieved to tell you that there is one Devonshire man not honest; for my man Robert proves a vile fellow, and I have discarded him.' And in another letter, nearly ten years later, in March, 1734-35: 'Twitnam is very cold these easterly winds; but I presume they do not blow in the happy regions of Devonshire.'
Sir John Fortescue, born in 1533, had the honour of being chosen 'Preceptor to the Princess Elizabeth.' Later he was appointed Keeper of the Great Wardrobe; whereupon it was remarked that Sir John Fortescue was one whom the Queen trusted with the ornaments of her soul and body. 'Two men,' Queen Elizabeth would say, 'outdid her expectations,—Fortescue for integrity, and Walsingham for subtlety and officious services.'
Towards the end of the eighteenth century a member of one of the branches of Fortescues who settled in Ireland was created Lord Clermont. He was very much liked by the Prince of Wales, and both Lord and Lady Clermont were a great deal at Court. In Wraxall's 'Posthumous Memoirs' there is an amusing account of an evening spent by Lady Clermont in launching into London society the Count Fersen who was noted for his devotion to Marie Antoinette. Already 'Swedish Envoy at the Court of France,' he had arrived in England, 'bringing letters of introduction from the Duchesse de Polignac to many persons of distinction here, in particular for Lady Clermont. Desirous to present him in the best company, soon after his arrival she conducted him in her own carriage to Lady William Gordon's assembly in Piccadilly. She had scarcely entered the room and made Count Fersen known to the principal individuals of both sexes, when the Prince of Wales was announced. I shall recount the sequel in Lady Clermont's own words to me, only a short time subsequent to the fact. "His Royal Highness took no notice of me on his first arrival, but in a few minutes afterwards, coming up to me: 'Pray, Lady Clermont,' said he, 'is that man whom I see here Count Fersen, the queen's favourite?' 'The gentleman,' answered I, 'to whom your royal highness alludes is Count Fersen; but so far from being a favourite of the queen, he has not yet been presented at Court.' 'D——n!' exclaimed he, 'you don't imagine I mean my mother?' 'Sir,' I replied, 'whenever you are pleased to use the word "queen" without any addition, I shall always understand it to mean my queen. If you speak of any other queen, I must entreat that you will be good enough to say the Queen of France, or of Spain.' The Prince made no reply; but after having walked once or twice round Count Fersen, returning to me: 'He's certainly a very handsome fellow,' observed he. 'Shall I have the honour, sir,' said I, 'to present him to you?' He instantly turned on his heel, without giving me any answer; and I soon afterwards quitted Lady William Gordon's house, carrying Count Fersen with me. We drove to Mrs St John's, only a few doors distant, who had likewise a large party on that evening. When I had introduced him to various persons there, I said to him, 'Count Fersen, I am an old woman and infirm, who always go home to bed at eleven. You will, I hope, amuse yourself. Goodnight.' Having thus done the honours as well as I could to a stranger who had been so highly recommended to me, I withdrew into the ante-chamber and sate down alone in a corner, waiting for my carriage.
'"While there the Prince came in, and I naturally expected, after his recent behaviour, that he would rather avoid than accost me. On the contrary, advancing up to me: 'What are you doing here, Lady Clermont?' asked he. 'I am waiting for my coach, sir,' said I, 'in order to go home.' 'Then,' replied he, 'I will put you into it and give you my arm down the stairs.' 'For heaven's sake, sir,' I exclaimed, 'don't attempt it! I am old, very lame, and my sight is imperfect; the consequence of your offering me your arm will be that, in my anxiety not to detain your royal highness, I shall hurry down and probably tumble from the top of the staircase to the foot.' 'Very likely,' answered he, 'but if you tumble, I shall tumble with you. Be assured, however, that I will have the pleasure of assisting you and placing you safely in your carriage.' I saw that he was determined to repair the rudeness with which he had treated me at Lady William Gordon's, and therefore acquiesced. He remained with me till the coach was announced, conversed most agreeably on various topics, and as he took care of me down the stairs, enjoined me at every step not to hurry myself. Nor did he quit me when seated in the carriage, remaining uncovered on the steps of the house till it drove off from the door."'
