_(To the Editor of the Mirror.)_
Any anecdote relating to, or illustrative of, the works of this great
man is a public benefaction; and I, in common with all your readers, (no
doubt,) feel obliged to your correspondent for his history of Charles
Brandon, Duke of Suffolk; at least, so much of it as, it would seem, was
connected with the tragedy of the Orphan. Charles Brandon was, as
history informs us, a gay, young, rattling fellow, a constant exhibitant
at all tilts and tournaments at Whitehall and elsewhere; courageous,
"wittie and of goodlie persone," in fact, a regular dandy of bygone
days, a fine gallant, and of course a great favourite of his royal
master; but, notwithstanding all this, it is not clear to me that
Charles Brandon and his brother were the romantic originals of Polydore
and Castalio. I rather think, if Otway did form his characters on any
real occurrence of the sort, the distressing event must be laid to the
noble family now proprietors of Woburn.
Perhaps the _old nobleman_ misunderstood the duchess-dowager when she
explained the picture to him; or perhaps her grace did not choose to be
_quite_ so communicate as she could have been, and, therefore, fixed the
sad event upon the gay Charley Brandon, in whose constellation of gay
doings it would, indeed, be a romantic diamond of the first water.
Every body who knows the gallery at Woburn, must remember the remarkable
picture alluded to. There is in the same apartment a very fine
whole-length of Charles Brandon; but in no way can I see is it connected
with the work which has furnished this tragic anecdote. At some distance
from Brandon's portrait appears the first Francis, _Earl of Bedford_,
with a long white beard, and furred robe, and George, pendant,--an
illustrious personage of this house, who discharged several great
offices in the reigns of Mary and Elizabeth. Such was his hospitality,
that Elizabeth used good-humouredly to say, "Go to, Frank, go to; it is
you make all the beggars." He died, aged 58, on the 28th of July, 1585,
the day after his third son, _Francis_, was slain, happily unapprized of
the misfortune.
Now comes the interesting picture in connexion with Otway and his play.
This youth, _Francis_ and his elder brother, the Lord Edward Russell,
are represented in _small_ full-lengths, in two paintings; and so alike,
as scarcely to be distinguished one from the other; both dressed in
white, close jackets, and black and gold cloaks, and black bonnets. The
date by Lord Edward is aet. 22, 1573. He is represented grasping in one
hand some snakes with this motto, _Fides homini, serpentibus fraus_; and
in the back ground he is placed standing in a labyrinth, above which is
inscribed, _Fata viam invenient_. This young nobleman died before his
father. His brother _Francis_ has his accompaniments not less singular.
A lady, seemingly in distress, is represented sitting in the back
ground, surrounded with snakes, a dragon, crocodile, and cock. At a
distance are the sea and a ship under full sail. He, by the attendants,
was, perhaps, the Polydore of the history. Edward seems by his motto,
_Fides homini, serpentibus fraus_, to have been the Castalio, conscious
of his own integrity, and indignant at his brother's perfidy. The ship
probably alludes to the desertion of the lady. If it conveyed Francis to
Scotland, it was to his punishment, for he fell on July 27, 1585, in a
border affray, the day before his father's death.
There, make what you like of this. This is how matters stand at the
Abbey; but I cannot see how this remarkable picture connects itself with
Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. I pause for elucidation.