died in 1849, leaving a fortune of more than two millions and a half,
affords a lesson which the mercantile world cannot study too curiously.
Somewhat more than one hundred and twenty years ago, the elder Denison
made his way on foot to London from Skipton-in-Craven, his native
place, with a few shillings in his pocket, and, being a parish-boy, not
knowing even how to read or write. Another account states that he was a
woollen-cloth-merchant at Leeds, and came to London in a waggon, being
attended on his departure by his friends, who took a solemn leave of
him, as the distance was then thought so great that they might never
see him again. He was recommended by a townswoman of his own (of the
name of Sykes, whom he afterwards married) to the house of Dillon and
Co., where she was herself a domestic servant; and for some time the
lad was employed to sweep the shop and go on errands. His zeal and
industry recommended him, however, to his employers, and having been
taught to read, he rose to a clerkship. After the death of his wife he
obtained an independence by marrying one Elizabeth Butler, daughter of
a rich hatter in Tooley Street, and set up in business for himself in
Princes Street, Lothbury, where by incessant attention to business and
strict parsimony, he managed to scrape together a considerable fortune.
He finally removed to St. Mary Axe, where he lived and died, after
having purchased the estates in Surrey and Yorkshire (of Lord King
and the Duke of Leeds), Denbies and Seamere; by joining the Heywoods,
eminent bankers of Liverpool, his wealth rapidly increased. The _Annual
Register_ of 1806, in recording these facts and his end, states that
through life Mr. Denison was a dissenter: he remained to the last an
illiterate man.
By his second wife he had one son and two daughters. The son, William
Joseph, a man of sound principle and excellent character, though
less penurious than his father, who, when he entertained a friend
at dinner in St. Mary Axe, used to walk to the butcher's and bring
home a rump-steak in a cabbage-leaf in his pocket, was remarkable for
his disinclination to detach even the smallest sum from his enormous
capital. Thus, when the nephew to whom he bequeathed 85,000_l._ per
annum, fell into railway difficulties (the speculation having been
undertaken with the sanction of his uncle), he permitted him, to avoid
legal proceedings, to withdraw to Boulogne-sur-Mer, and reside there a
twelvemonth with his young family, rather than pay for him the sum of
2,000_l._
Mr. Denison, the father, died in 1806; his son, succeeding to the
banking business (the firm being now Denison, Heywood, and Kennard),
continued to accumulate; and at his death, in 1849, he left two
millions and a half of money. He had sat in Parliament for Surrey since
1818. He was a man of cultivated tastes, and possessed a knowledge of
art and elegant literature. He feared to be thought ostentatious, and
could with difficulty be prevailed on to have a lodge erected at the
entrance to a new road which he had just formed on his estate in Surrey.
Mr. Denison's two sisters were Elizabeth, married, in 1794, to Henry,
first Marquis Conyngham; and Maria, married, in 1793, to Sir Robert
Lawley, Bart., created, in 1831, Baron Wenlock. Up to the age of
twenty-seven, Miss Denison resided with her father in St. Mary Axe.
Here the rich and beautiful heiress was won and wedded in 1794 by
the Honourable Henry Burton, then a captain, twenty-eight years old,
and the eldest son of the fortunate Francis Pierpoint Burton, of
Buncraggy, who succeeded through his mother, after the death of her two
brothers, to the barony and estates of the old Conynghams, won at the
battle of the Boyne by Sir Albert Conyngham, Lieutenant-General of the
Ordnance of Ireland, and aggrandized by many forfeitures and marriages
subsequently. Captain Burton carried off his wife to Ireland, and only
revisited England in his forty-second year, to kiss hands, in 1808, on
his promotion to a major-generalship. On succeeding to his father's
title and estates, his lordship so improved their condition that he was
justly regarded as one of the benefactors of his country; and a visit
to his estate at Slane, on the banks of the Boyne, is recorded by Mr.
Parkinson in his _Experiences of Agriculture_ in the same terms as a
visit to Holkham would have been chronicled in the days of Mr. Coke.
The barony of Conyngham was increased to an earldom as a reward for the
spirited conduct of his lordship's father, which led to a reciprocity
of trade between Ireland and England. Upon the conclusion of the war
with France, when George IV. paid a visit to Ireland, he was hospitably
received and entertained at Slane Castle. Here, probably, commenced
that more intimate acquaintance between His Majesty and the Marquis
Conyngham and his family which induced the King, upon his return to
England, to invite the whole family to court, and, after they had
accepted the invitation, to retain them in his household. In 1816 his
lordship was created Viscount Slane (the restoration of an ancient
title forfeited in the Rebellion), Earl of Mountcharles, and Marquis
Conyngham; and in 1821 he was enrolled in the British Peerage as Baron
Minster, of Minster Abbey, in the county of Kent. The Marchioness was
left a widow in 1832, and survived until 1861, having attained the
venerable age of ninety-two, and lived to see both her sons peers of
the realm--the one in succession of his father; the second, Albert
Denison, as the heir to her own father's great fortune and estates,
with the title of Baron Londesborough.
"Dog Jennings."
This eccentric character, Henry Constantine Jennings, was born in
1731, and was the son of a gentleman possessed of a large estate at
Shiplake, in Oxfordshire. He was educated at Westminster School, and
at the age of seventeen years became an ensign in the 1st Regiment of
Foot Guards. He held the commission but a short time, and on resigning
it went to Italy in company with Lord Monthermer, son of the Duke of
Montagu.
While at Rome, young Jennings commenced his first collection of
articles of vertu, and ever after obtained the coarse and vulgar
_sobriquet_ of "Dog Jennings," in consequence of a circumstance which
he thus relates:--"I happened one day to be strolling along the streets
of Rome, and perceiving the shop of a statuary in an obscure street,
I entered it, and began to look around for any curious production of
art. I at length perceived something uncommon, at least; but, being
partly concealed behind a heap of rubbish, I could not contemplate it
with any degree of accuracy. After all impediments had been at length
removed, the marble statue I had been poking for was dragged into open
day; it proved to be a huge, but fine dog--and a fine dog it was, and a
lucky dog was I to discover and to purchase it. On turning it round, I
perceived it was without a tail--this gave me a hint. I also saw that
the limbs were finely proportioned; that the figure was noble; that the
sculpture, in short, was worthy of the best age of Athens; and that
it must be of the age of Alcibiades, whose favourite dog it certainly
was. I struck a bargain instantly on the spot for 400 scudi; and as the
muzzle alone was somewhat damaged, I paid the artist a trifle more for
repairing it. It was carefully packed, and being sent to England after
me, by the time it reached my house in Oxfordshire, it had just cost
me 80_l._ I wish all my other bargains had been like it, for it was
exceedingly admired, as I well knew it must be, by the connoisseurs, by
more than one of whom I was bid 1,000_l._ for my purchase. In truth, by
a person sent, I believe, from Blenheim, I was offered 1,400_l._ But I
would not part with my dog; I had bought it for myself, and I liked to
contemplate his fine proportions and admire him at my leisure, for he
was doubly dear to me, as being my own property and my own selection."
At the Literary Club, one evening, Jennings' dog was the topic of
discussion: "_F._ (_Lord Cipper O'Geary._) 'I have been looking at this
famous marble dog of Mr. Jennings', valued at 1,000 guineas, said to be
Alcibiades' dog.'--_Johnson_. 'His tail, then, must be docked. That was
the mark of Alcibiades' dog.'--_E._ (_Burke._) 'A thousand guineas! the
representation of no animal whatever is worth so much. At this rate, a
dead dog would, indeed, be better than a living lion.'--_J._ 'Sir, it
is not the worth of the thing, but of the skill in forming it, which
is so highly estimated. Everything that enlarges the sphere of human
powers, that shows man he can do what he thought he could not do, is
valuable.'"
But Mr. Jennings, like many other collectors, owing to a reverse of
fortune, was compelled, in 1778, to break up his collection, which
being sold by auction, the dog of Alcibiades brought 1,000 guineas, and
became the property of Mr. Duncombe, M.P. It is now at Duncombe Park,
in Yorkshire, the seat of Lord Feversham.
It is painful to read that the latter days of Mr. Jennings were spent
in the King's Bench; and within the rules of that prison he died,
February 17th, 1819, at his lodgings in Belvedere Place, St. George's
Fields, in his eighty-eighth year.
Baron Ward's Remarkable Career.
Perhaps no man of modern times passed a more varied and romantic life
than the famed Yorkshire groom, statesman, and friend of sovereigns,
and who played so prominent a part at the Court of Parma; his career
strongly exemplifying the adage that truth is stranger than fiction.
Thomas Ward was born at York, on the 9th of October 1810, where he was
brought up in the stable, but was shrewd and intelligent far beyond
boys of his own station.
He left Yorkshire as a boy in the pay of Prince Lichtenstein, of
Hungary; and after a four years' successful career on the turf at
Vienna as a jockey, he became employed by the then reigning Duke of
Lucca.
He was at Lucca promoted from the stable to be a valet to his Royal
Highness, which service he performed up to 1846. About that period
he was appointed Master of the Horse to the Ducal Court, when he
made extraordinary changes in that department: the stable expenses
were reduced more than one-half. Yet the Duke's stud was the envy
and admiration of all Italy. Eventually, Ward became Minister of the
Household and Minister of Finance, and acquired a diplomatic dignity in
the disturbances which preceded the revolutionary year, 1848, when he
was despatched to Florence upon a confidential mission of the highest
importance. This had no less an object than the delivery, to the Grand
Duke, of his master's abdication of the Lucchese principality. At first
the Grand Duke hesitated at receiving, in a diplomatic capacity, one of
whom he had only heard in relation to the races of the Casino. But our
envoy had seen and provided for such an emergency. He produced from his
pocket a commission, making him Viceroy of the Duke's estates, which
was to be acted upon if the Grand Duke raised any obstacle, or even if
he refused to receive Ward as ambassador of the states of Parma, at the
capital of the Medicis; this, of course, ended all difficulties.
Ward held the above offices until the Duke's rule was violently
terminated by the great Revolution of 1848. With some difficulty he
escaped with his able and faithful minister, when they retired to an
estate near Dresden, called Weisstrop. At this period Ward became an
active agent of Austria, and as Austria triumphed, he recovered the
hereditary estates of Parma and Placentia; but the Duke, disgusted
by his experience, resigned in favour of his own son, with whom the
minister retained the same favour and exhibited the same talents that
first raised him to distinction, and made him more than a match for the
first of the Italian diplomatists. Upon one occasion he was despatched
to Vienna as an envoy from his little court, when he astonished
Schwartzenberg by the extent of his capacity. His acquaintance was
specially cultivated by the Russian Ambassador, Meyendorff, who appears
to have been very fond of Yorkshire hams. An English gentleman, supping
one night at the Russian Ambassador's, complimented him upon the
excellence of the ham. "There is a member of our diplomatic body here,"
replied Meyendorff, "who supplies us all with hams from Yorkshire, of
which county he is a native."
As prime minister, Ward negotiated the abdication of Charles II.,
and placed the youthful Charles III. on the throne, who, it will
be remembered, was assassinated before his own palace in 1854. It
should be observed that as soon as Charles III. came to the throne,
the then Baron Ward was sent to Germany by his patron as Minister
Plenipotentiary, to represent Parma at the Court of Vienna. This post
he held up to the time of his royal patron's tragical end.
When the Duchess-Regent assumed state authority, Ward retired from
public life, and took to agricultural pursuits in the Austrian
dominions. Without any educational foundation, he contrived to write
and speak German, French, and Italian, and conducted the affairs
of state with considerable cleverness, if not with remarkable
straightforwardness. But the moment he attempted to express himself in
English, his dialect was found to retain all the characteristics of his
want of education. Lord Palmerston once declared that Ward "was one of
the most remarkable men he had ever met with."
Throughout life, Ward was ever proud of his country, never for a
moment attempting to conceal his humble origin; and portraits of his
parents, in their homespun clothes, may be seen in the splendid saloon
of the Prime Minister of Parma.
Baron Ward was married to a humble person of Vienna, and at his death
he left four children. From the stable he rose to the highest offices
of a little kingdom, at a period of great European political interest,
and died in retirement, pursuing the rustic occupation of a farmer, but
carrying with him to the grave many curious state secrets.
The following is a partial list only of the honours to which Ward
attained:--Baron of the Duchy of Lucca, and of the Grand Duchy of
Tuscany; Knight of the First Class of the Order of St. Louis of Lucca;
Knight Grand Cross of the Order of St. Joseph of Tuscany; Knight
Senator Grand Cross of the Order of St. George Constantinano of Parma;
and Noble, with the title of Baron, in Tuscany; Honorary Councillor of
State to his Imperial Highness the Grand Duke of Tuscany; Minister and
Councillor of State to H.R.H. Charles Duke of Parma, &c.[14]
[14] _Family Romance._ By J. Bernard Burke. Vol. ii.
A Costly House-Warming.
Fifty years ago, there lived in Edward Street, Portman Square, one
Parmentier, confectioner to the Prince Regent. From his emporium,
and that of Romualdo, in Duke Street, the _routs_ given in the
neighbouring squares were sumptuously supplied. In this quarter lived
keepers of china and glass shops, who undertook, at a few hours'
notice, to supply all the movables and ornaments for large _routs_,
as chairs, tables, china and glass, knives and forks, extra plate,
looking-glasses, mirrors, girandoles, chandeliers, wax-lights,
candelabra-lamps, Aurelian shades, transparencies, vases, and other
decorative items for a complete suite of rooms; together with exotics
and green-house plants, and a corps of artists to chalk the floors.
It was by this almost magical aid that the Earl of Shrewsbury gave
his magnificent house-warming to the _haut ton_ at his new mansion
in Bryanstone Square, which was then in so unfinished a state that
the walls in many of the apartments were not even plastered. To the
astonishment and delight of the guests, the whole mansion was thrown
open, and every room was furnished and decorated in the most superb
style. The principal drawing-room, with its numerous lamps and large
looking-glasses, appeared one blaze of light; in contrast to which,
another room in sombre gloom, resembled an Arcadian grove of orange
and lemon trees and myrtles, part natural and part artificial. The
amusements consisted of a dramatic representation, a concert, a
dress-ball, a masquerade, and a sumptuous supper of three hundred
covers. These elegant festivities cost the Earl several thousand pounds.
In the same neighbourhood, at the corner of George Street, Mohammed, a
native of Asia, opened a house for giving dinners in the Hindustanee
style. All the dishes were dressed with currie-powder, rice, cayenne,
and the finest spices of Arabia. A room was set apart for smoking
from hookahs with Oriental herbs. The rooms were furnished with
chairs and sofas made of bamboo canes, and the walls were hung with
Chinese pictures and other Asiatic embellishments. Either Sidi
Mohammed's capital was not sufficient to stand the slow test of public
encouragement, or the scheme failed at once; for Sidi became bankrupt,
and the undertaking was relinquished.
Devonshire Eccentrics.
Some years since, there lived a gentleman in Tavistock, very charitably
disposed, who entertained an especial good will and kind feeling
towards old sailors. Any old sailor, by calling at his door, received
the donation of a shilling and a glass of grog. It was marvellous
to see what a number of veteran blue jackets paid him a visit in the
course of a year. At last, the servant who opened the door observed
that all these sons of the sea had a particular patch on one and the
same arm. She began, at length, to fancy that the old patch must be
some badge of honour in the service, yet she thought it a very odd
distinction in his Majesty's navy. The circumstance awakened her
suspicion. The next old blue jacket that appeared, decorated with the
order of the patch, was therefore watched and followed to his retreat.
He was observed to retire to the house of a certain old woman, and
in a little while he was seen to come forth again in his own natural
character, that of a street beggar, clothed in rags. The cheat was
apparent; and suffice it to say, that on further examination it
appeared that the old woman's house was one of friendly call to all the
vagabonds and sharpers who paced the country round; and that amongst
other masquerade attire for the callers, she kept by her a sailor's old
jacket and trousers for the purpose of playing off the imposition. No
doubt she was paid for the loan of the dress.
At Tavistock, also, there resided a strange character in humble life,
named Carter Foote. On returning from Oakhampton, he remounted his
horse, after having enjoyed himself at the public-house, and attempted
to pass the river below the bridge by fording it over. The day had
been stormy, and from the sudden swell of the river he found himself
in extreme danger. After endeavouring to struggle with the current
he leaped from his horse upon a large piece of the rock, and there
stood, calling aloud for help. Some person going by, ran and procured
a rope, which he endeavoured to throw towards the rock; but finding
it impossible to do so without further assistance, he begged two men
belonging to Oakhampton, who drew near the spot, to give him help,
and save the stranger, whose life was in so much peril. One of them,
however, very leisurely looked at the sufferer, and only saying, "'Tis
a Tav'stock man, let un go," walked off with his companion, and poor
Carter Foote was drowned.
Mrs. Bray relates the following of a Devonshire physician, happily
named Vial, who was a desperate lover of whist. One evening, in the
midst of a deal, the doctor fell off his chair in a fit. Consternation
seized on the company. Was he alive or dead? What was to be done? All
help was given; hartshorn was poured almost down his throat by one kind
female friend, whilst another feelingly singed the end of his nose with
burning feathers; all were in the breathless agony of suspense for his
safety. At length, he showed signs of life, and retaining the last fond
idea which had possessed him at the moment he fell into the fit, to the
joy of the whole company exclaimed, "What is trumps?"
Many years ago, there resided in Devonshire a certain old gentleman,
nicknamed Redpost Fynes, from his having painted all the gates of
his fields a bright vermilion. The squire was remarkable for never
having been able to learn to spell even the commonest word in his own
language; so that on the birth of his daughter, he wrote to a friend
that his wife was brought to bed of a fine _gull_. The word _usage_
he spelt without one letter belonging to it, and yet contrived to
produce something like the word, at least in sound, for he wrote it
thus, _yowzitch_. Near his house was a very old and grotesque tree, cut
and clipped in the form of a punchbowl; whilst a table and seats were
literally affixed within the green enclosure, to which was an ascent by
a little ladder, like the companion-ladder of a ship.
[Illustration: Hannah Snell.]
Hannah Snell, the Female Soldier.
This extraordinary woman was born in Fryer Street, Worcester, on the
23rd of April 1723. Her grandfather, embracing the military profession,
served under William III. and Queen Anne, and terminated his career at
the battle of Malplaquet, where he received a mortal wound. Snell's
father was a hosier and dyer.
In 1740, Hannah, having lost both parents, came to London, where she
for some time resided with one of her sisters, married to one Gray, a
carpenter, in Ship Street, Wapping. Here she became acquainted with a
Dutch seaman, named James Summs, to whom she was married early in 1743.
Her husband led a profligate life, squandered the little property which
his wife possessed, and having involved her deeply in debt, deserted
her, leaving her pregnant; in two months she was delivered of a girl,
who died at the age of seven months.
For some time she resided with her sister, but soon resolved to set
out in quest of the man, whom, notwithstanding his ill-usage, she
still continued to love. In order to carry out this strange resolve,
as she thought, more safely, she put on a suit of the clothes of her
brother-in-law, assumed his name, James Gray, and started on the 23rd
of November, 1745. Having travelled to Coventry, and being unable
to procure any intelligence of her husband, on the 27th of the same
month she enlisted into General Guise's regiment, and in the company
belonging to Captain Miller. She remained at Coventry about three
weeks. The north being then the seat of war, and her regiment being at
Carlisle, she left Coventry with seventeen other recruits, and joined
the regiment, after a march of three weeks, which she performed with
as much ease as any of her comrades. At Carlisle she was instructed in
the military exercise, which she was soon able to perform with skill
and dexterity. She had not been long in this place, when a man named
Davis applied to Hannah to assist him in an intrigue; she appeared
to acquiesce in his desire, but privately disclosed the whole matter
to the intended victim. By this conduct she gained the young woman's
confidence and esteem; they frequently met, which excited the jealousy
of Davis, and prompted revenge. He accordingly seized an opportunity of
charging his supposed rival before the commanding officer with neglect
of duty, and she was sentenced to receive six hundred lashes. Five
hundred were inflicted, but the remaining hundred were remitted through
the intercession of some of the officers.