The last who bore the surname of Killigrew was Frances Maria (daughter of George Augustus Killigrew, of Bond Street), who died in Portman Street, London, on 20th July, 1819, aged seventy-one.
And here let us pause, after having exhausted (so far as I am aware) all the sources of information, and having, I believe, at least set down all that was noteworthy, of the elder branch of the Killigrews.
THE SECOND BRANCH.
John Killigrew, the first Captain of Pendennis, had three brothers, James, Thomas, and Bennet, of whom I can learn nothing of interest. And he also had other sons than John the second knight, his successor at Pendennis Castle, of whom we have already heard. One son—Thomas—died young. Another, the fourth son, was the famous Sir Henry Killigrew, Knight, who sat as Member of Parliament for Launceston in 1552-53, and for Truro about twenty years later. Him let us take as our first representative of the younger branch of the family. He is described as a Teller of the Exchequer, Commander of 'Newhaven' (Nieuwport), and Ambassador to Germany, France (where he temporarily relieved Sir Francis Walsingham), Scotland, the Palatinate, Frankfort, and the Low Countries.[70] Of a man of such mark—one whom Emerson would have called 'a bright personality'—traces would assuredly be forthcoming; and we do not seek them in vain amongst the Lansdowne, the Cottonian, the Egerton, and the 'Additional' Manuscripts in the British Museum; amongst the Scotch MSS.; and in the Public Record Office. Moreover, the Yelverton MSS. contain references to him, as also do the collections in Lambeth Palace Library. Most of these are Letters, Instructions, and Memorials, referring to the diplomatic functions which he was called upon to discharge, and partaking rather too much of the 'Dryasdust' character to be interesting to the general reader. There are some verses by him to 'My Ladye Cecylle' (his wife's sister), preserved in the Cambridge University Library; but I propose to omit these in favour of some Latin lines addressed to the same lady by Sir Henry's wife; not only because of the courteous maxim, 'Place aux dames,' but also because the lady's verses are really charming. In lieu of any specimen of Sir Henry's poetic vein, an extract from a letter which he wrote from Edinburgh, on 6th October, 1572, descriptive of John Knox—towards the close of his life—and some other fragments of his prose, will probably be more acceptable. 'John Knox,' he says, 'is now so feeble as scarce can he stand alone, or speak to be heard of any audience, yet doth he every Sunday cause himself to be carried to a place where a certain number do hear him, and preacheth with the same vehemency and zeal that ever he did.' This account is fully confirmed by another contemporary description of him, which is so graphic that I cannot refrain from giving it.
From May, 1571, to August, 1572, Knox lived in St. Andrews, and frequently preached there. 'I haid my pen and my little book,' says James Melville, 'and tuk away sic things as I could comprehend. In the opening upe of his text he was moderat the space of an halff houre; bot when he enteret to application, he maid me sa to grew & tremble, that I could nocht hald a pen to wryt.... He was verie weak. I saw him everie day of his doctrine go hulie and fear, with a furring of martriks about his neck, a staff in the an hand, and guid godlie Richart Ballanden, his servand, halding upe the uther oxtar, from the Abbay to the paroche kirk; and be the said Richart and another servant, lifted upe to the pulpit, whar he behovit to lean at his first entrie; bot or he haid done with his sermont, he was sa active and vigorus that he was lyk to ding that pulpit in blads, and fly out of it!' But his work was nearly done; weary of the world, and 'thirsting to depart,' in a few months he entered into his rest.
We learn of Sir Henry, from Heppe, that Queen Elizabeth being very desirous of concluding a sincere alliance, or 'Common League,' between herself and the Evangelical Princes of the Empire, sent to the Elector Palatine and other the Electors of the Holy Roman Empire and the States, Henry Killigrew—her 'approved and faithful servant'—and her 'orator,' Dr. Mount, with a view to counteracting 'the pernicious and sanguinary plots of certain persons against all the professors of the Holy Gospel in every place.' The Congress to which they were accredited met at Frankfort, in April, 1569, but Killigrew and Mount arrived too late for it.
These, and other of his diplomatic missions are referred to in the following extract from a memorial in Leonard Howard's 'Collection of Letters of Princes, Great Personages, and Statesmen.' After recounting his many[71] diplomatic missions for his Queen to France, 'to discover theire intents there against this Realme;' to Germany, 'to sound the Princes of Germanye touching a League defensive for Religion' (for which he had 'but Fortye Pounds allowance for all manner of Chardges; which coste me as muche more with the least'); and again several times to those Countries, as well as to Scotland in 1573, and to Newhaven, where he was hurt and imprisoned—Sir Henry thus concludes:
'Now for all these Journeys, Chardges, Daungers, Hurtes and Losses, in the meanwhile, and the Tyme used only in her Majesties' service, without any Proffitt of my owne, I have only to lyve by, of Her Majesties' Goodness, the Tellershippe, which was given me before I went to Newehaven....' In consideration of all which—by way of a provision for his family—he prefers a 'Suite for the said Firme of the Manor of Sarrake (?) in Cornwall ...'; adding, 'The Rent is somewhat great, I confess; but truly the Profitt nothinge equall.'
Let us hope that services so long, so faithful, and so important, at length received their reward. That they probably did may be surmised from the following account of the close of his active career, given by the Cornish historian Carew: 'After ambassades and messages, and many other profitable employments of peace and warre, in his prince's service, to the good of his country, (Sir Henry Killigrew) hath made choyce of a retyred estate, and, reverently regarded by all sorts, placeth his principal contentment in himselfe, which, to a life so well acted, can no way bee wanting.'