It will be remembered that even when Lady Purbeck was being proceeded against for unfaithfulness to her husband, at the instigation of Buckingham, she was on friendly terms with Lord Purbeck, and that Buckingham had considerable difficulty in keeping them apart: consequently it is the less to be wondered at that Lord Purbeck "took his wife again," after her return from exile. Not only was Lady Purbeck now a reformed character, but, like Lord Purbeck, she was a convert to the Catholic Church; and this would probably make him the more inclined to receive her again as his wife and to trust her for the future. At the time of their reunion Lady Purbeck must have been about forty, and he must have been an oldish man; although not too old to be a bridegroom, and no longer under suspicion of insanity; for, in addition to starting a second time as husband to Frances, Lady Purbeck, it is recorded that after her death, which occurred in five or six years, he married again,[102] and survived his first wife by twelve years.
If the beginning of married life a second time, after an interval of sixteen years—to say nothing of certain awkward incidents which had transpired in the meantime—may have been a little out of the common, it is more remarkable still that Lord Purbeck should have acknowledged the boy, Robert Wright, as his son. As was shown in an earlier chapter, it is just possible that he may have been ignorant of the fact that the lad was not his own child, or rather, perhaps, that he refused to believe in that fact. On the other hand, as the boy was born in wedlock, he had in any case the right to acknowledge him as such, if he so pleased. That was his concern, not ours, so we need not cavil at it.
His doing so may be accounted for by either of the two following suppositions: namely, that he acknowledged the boy out of affection for, and to please, his wife—possibly it may have been one of the inducements held out to persuade her to return to him—or that he gradually took a fancy to the lad and chose this method of adopting him. Whatever the cause of his acknowledging the boy may have been, that acknowledgment encourages the idea that good relations existed between Lord and Lady Purbeck after what may almost be called their second marriage, or, perhaps still better called, their first real marriage with consent on both sides.
Purbeck called the boy Robert Villiers, and would not allow him to be spoken of as Robert Wright. When the lad came of age, Lord Purbeck made him join with himself, as his son and heir, in the conveyance of some lands, under the name of Robert Villiers,[103] the most formal of legal recognitions.
It is likely that her life soon became that of an invalid, for she died in the year 1645, when staying with her mother at Oxford. In that year the Court of Charles I. was at this town, which may account for her own and her mother's presence there. As we saw, in the first chapter, there is some question as to whether Lady Purbeck was born in the year 1599 or in 1600, so she may have been either forty-five or forty-six at the time of her death. Her life, although of very moderate length, had been one of considerable adventure, which may have told heavily upon her constitution; if her personal concerns were peaceful at the time of her death, we know that the conditions of the King and of the Court, together with the prospects of all of high rank who were loyal to the Crown, were then causing great anxiety and excitement at Oxford: and this may well have had a bad effect upon the health of an invalid.
Of Lady Purbeck's character much less is recorded than of the characters of several other leading figures in this story—her father, her mother, Bacon, Buckingham. We know, however, that she faithfully nursed during his last two years her surly old father, who had treated her abominably and spoiled her life; that she never lost the friendship of Lord Purbeck; that, in her trouble she sought the consolations of religion in a Church which would require a full confession of her sins, accompanied by sincere repentance and virtuous resolutions; that she bore an excellent character in Paris; and that she spent her last years with her husband or her mother. It is true that she had sinned, that she had sinned grievously; but, when we consider her education under parents who were fighting like cat and dog, the marriage which was forced upon her, and the dissolute Court in which she, a singularly beautiful woman, spent the early years of her married life, we may well hesitate before we look for stones to cast at her memory.
And, after all, the only description of her character, of any length, which we have been able to find, namely, that given by Sir Kenelm Digby, is highly favourable. If an apology be required for repeating it, that apology is humbly given.
After declaring that of "wit, courage, generosity, and other heroic parts," nature had given Lady Purbeck "a double share," together with "all other noble endowments," Sir Kenelm says: "I have not seen more prudence, sweetness, honour and bravery shown by any woman that I know, than this unfortunate lady showeth she hath such a rich stock of. Besides her natural endowments, doubtless her afflictions add much; or rather have polished, refined and heightened, what nature gave her."
Even when we have made due allowance for the fact that the pen of Sir Kenelm Digby was inclined to be a little flowery, sufficient is left in this description of Lady Purbeck to make her character attractive, and we know that nature had added to her charms by endowing her with exceptional beauty. No attempt shall be made here to exaggerate either her attractions or her virtues, much less to extenuate or minimise her faults; but let us at least forgive the latter.
There are ladies who call the story of Mary Magdalen "beautiful," yet would on no consideration tolerate a repetition of even its most beautiful incidents, in real life. If she now existed, the greatest concession they would make would be to subscribe towards sending her to a Home for Fallen Women; or, which is more likely, they would ask for an order of admission for her from someone else who subscribed to such an institution. From such we cannot expect a charitable view of The Curious Case of Lady Purbeck.