'Deep versed in books, but shallow in himself'
(a red-tapeist general, who fought always according to rule),--'drew up
his troops agreeably to the manner prescribed by the best writers, and,
in a few hours, lost 18,000 men, 120 standards, all his baggage, and
all his artillery.' 'Do you remember, child,' says the foolish woman
in the _Spectator_ to her husband, 'that the pigeon-house fell the
very afternoon that our careless wench spilt the salt upon the table?'
'Yes, my dear,' replies the gentleman, 'and the next post brought us an
account of the battle of Almanza.'[87]
This battle is further remarkable as having been the first occasion
on which the Union Jack was used as the British Ensign; and from its
being almost the first time when British troops used the bayonet; it is
also noteworthy, because at Almanza English and Dutch troops, commanded
by a Frenchman, were defeated by French and Spaniards, commanded by a
British General. The battle was fought on a plain about a mile in front
of the town; and, I believe, an obelisk still marks the site.
Colonel Townshend Wilson, in his 'Memoir of the Duke of Berwick'
(1883), gives a vivid description of the stubbornly contested three
hours' conflict--in which 'never did Briton and Dutch face the foe
more steadily.' They were however out-numbered and out-generalled--and
on this day the old Das Minas might have been seen, accompanied by a
young lady, his mistress, in a gay riding-habit, cantering to and fro
among the allied troops under fire; but an unmannerly shot emptied her
saddle. The end of the battle is thus described:
'From stern resistance the cosmopolitan infantry suddenly changed
to brilliant attack. With a tremendous effort they beat down all
opponents. Two battalions, irresistible in might, trampled down the
enemy's double line, pressed even to the walls of Almansa. Superb
audacity in front of well-led soldiers is sometimes foolishness.
Don José de Amezaga, with two squadrons, charging the enemy, blown
and in disarray, cut them to pieces.... Then the wondrous English
and Huguenot foot, quite _en l'air_, deprived of support, most of
their superior officers laid low, thought of retreat. The manœuvre
was impracticable. Hundreds of men were trampled under the hoofs of
exulting cavaliers. Six battalions, crushed into a crowd, had to lay
down their arms. But thirteen battalions (five of which were English),
holding grimly together, under Count Dhona, and Major-General
Shrimpton of the Guards, retired in fine order to a hill about a
league from the field.'
Being, however, without provisions, these gallant fellows were
compelled on the following day to surrender to their antagonists.
The Spanish loss was 2,000; that of the Allies double that number,
and eighty-eight British officers, including Brigadier Killigrew and
Colonels Dormer and Roper, were amongst the slain.
Among Brigadier Robert's small effects were twenty-two pistoles, a
bay horse, a pair of gold buttons, and his watch and seal--as appears
from some family letters preserved among the 'Additional MSS.' in the
British Museum. He seems to have found life a 'fitful fever,' for in
his very last letter to his brother--as 'T. K.' has endorsed it--he
says that he is 'verre wery of sarvin in this Hott Contre.' But he was
a courageous soldier; for his nephew, Major Henry Killigrew, of the
Irish Carabineers, who seems to have also been present at the battle,
writes that 'no man there gave up his life with greater bravery' than
his uncle did. General Robert Killigrew, in fact, appears to have
deserved the place which he attained amongst the Worthies of England at
Westminster.
Charles, the third brother, was born in 1650, and was buried in the
Savoy in 1725. He succeeded his father in the post of Master of the
Revels[88] in 1680, with a fee of £10 per annum; and he was made a
Commissioner of Prizes in 1707. J. T. Smith tells us that he used to
license, 'in black and red print,' all ballad-singers, mountebanks,
rope-dancers, prize-players, 'and such as make shew of motions and
strange sights.' He also succeeded to the ownership of the play-house
in Drury Lane; and is said to have done much to correct the profaneness
of the stage.
Amongst the Lord Chamberlain's Records of the Reign of Charles II.
is a volume marked 'Players Booke,' which contains many curious
entries, such as regulations against persons forcing their way into
the theatre without payment at the beginning of the last acts of the
piece. No actor to leave the theatre without giving three months'
warning. No visitor to come between the scenes, or sit or stand upon
the stage during the time of acting. It also appears that certain of
the actors had entered into a bond of £500 with Charles Killigrew for
the theatrical properties, and a regulation was made that thenceforth
none of the actors or actresses should 'presume to go out of the House
in theire acting Clothes.' The well known Mohun, who was one of the
parties to this bond, had served as Major of a regiment in Flanders.
But Harry, who seems to have been a son of Tom the elder, by his first
wife Cecilia Crofts, took most after his father. He was Groom of the
Chamber to James II., when Duke of York; and was the scapegrace of the
family. Pepys was more than once shocked at his conduct, and speaks
of him as a 'rogue newly come out of France.' Before he did this he
had earned a bad character abroad; for on 21st July, 1660, the Prince
Palatine wrote of a duel which Master Harry fought at Heidelberg, and
adds, 'He will never leave his lying as long as his tongue can wagg.'
There were ugly suspicions of his having, in a drunken fit, stabbed his
own servant; and of his having committed other outrageous misdeeds. In
1666 he was banished from the Court, 'for raw words spoken against a
lady of pleasure.' Yet he seems to have contrived to find his way back
again; for in 1667 occurred the memorable squabble between him and
Buckingham, which Pepys thus relates, and to which Charles II. also
referred in a letter to Prince Rupert:
'Creed tells me of the fray between the Duke of Buckingham at the
Duke's play-house the last Saturday (and it is the first day I have
heard that they have acted at either the King's or Duke's houses this
month or six weeks), and Henry Killigrew, whom the Duke of Buckingham
did soundly beat and take away his sword, and make a fool of, till the
fellow prayed him to spare his life; & I am glad of it, for it seems in
this business the Duke of Buckingham did carry himself very innocently
& well, & I wish he had paid this fellow's coat well.'
The quarrel seems to have originated in some insulting words used by
Harry Killigrew towards the Duke from an adjoining box, and to these
the Duke replied in like fashion; whereupon a quarrel ensued, which
ended in a challenge from Killigrew. This the Duke refused to accept,
and a personal encounter was the consequence--the two combatants
chasing each other round the house, to the great annoyance of the rest
of the audience, as may be supposed. Killigrew seems to have lost his
character as a man of courage--whilst the Duke lost--his wig! as well
as his temper. I have not been able to discover what became afterwards
of this 'ne'er-do-weel,' except that in 1698 he contrived to get a free
grant of £200 from the Treasury. He married Lady Mary Savage, had two
sons (Henry and James), and was buried on 16th December, 1705, at St.
Martin's-in-the-Fields.
We have thus completed, so far as seemed desirable, our sketches of all
the sons and grandsons of Sir Robert Killigrew of Hanworth, except that
of his fifth son, Henry; to him and to his career and progeny we now
turn. He was born at Hanworth the year after his brother Tom, viz. in
1612; and was at first educated, as Wood tells us, by that celebrated
schoolmaster, Farnaby, at St. Giles's, Cripplegate. Thence he went
to Christ Church, Oxford, when sixteen years of age, and at that
University obtained his degrees of M.A. in 1638, and D.D. four years
afterwards. Of his Latinity when at college, the following example,
amongst others, has been preserved:--
ΠΡΟΤΈΛΕΙΑ [Greek: PROTELEIA].