the Melancholy Monarch in contradistinction to his uncle Charles II.,
of England, the Merry Monarch.” In the early years of his reign, he was
in entire subjugation to the Regent-Mother, who at open variance with
Don John, and his party, only agreed with him in this, to keep the young
monarch under. True it is, the unhappy Prince was ill-suited to his
position. From his earliest years, he was a martyr to despondency, and
detested everything connected with public affairs. His gun, his dogs,
and his beads, were his favourite companions. He had a zealous love
for art, and artists, but little taste, or knowledge, patronising, and
befriending alike the worthy, and the worthless. His paramount favourite,
was Luca Giordano, to whose studio he paid frequent visits, and whom
he commanded to remain covered in his presence: a mandate which that
self-approving artist, readily obeyed—a contrast to the conduct of the
distinguished Carreno, to whom the young King was one day sitting for
his portrait, in the presence of the Queen-Mother. Charles enquired to
what order the artist belonged. “To none,” was the reply, “except that of
your Majesty’s servants.” The Badge of Santiago, was sent to Carreno that
very day, but so great was his diffidence, that he never assumed it. “His
portraits of Charles II.,” says Stirling, “as a child, have something
to please the eye in the pale pensive features, and long fair hair; the
projection of the lower jaw, so remarkable in after life, is scarcely
discernible, and there is something pitiful, and touching in the sadness
of the countenance, contrasted with the gala suit he wears.” Herrera died
soon after Charles’s accession, but besides Giordano he retained in his
service Coello, and Muñoz, and invited Murillo, to remove from Seville,
to Madrid.
He had a magnificent carriage, for himself and his second wife, painted
with mythological subjects: he amused himself by building, visiting from
one studio to another, and shooting wolves; while occasionally he might
be seen, walking barefoot in the procession at an Auto da Fé. Charles
II., without doubt stood on the verge of imbecility, or insanity, and
the treatment he endured from those around him, on his death-bed, was
sufficient to deaden the small share of intellect that was his portion.
In his last days he was tormented, and harassed by questions as to the
succession, (he being childless): and in his dying moments, he was
tortured by the frightful ceremony of exorcism, it being currently
supposed, or at least affirmed by the superstitious, and cruel, that he
was possessed.
“Thus,” says Stirling, “died one of the most unfortunate monarchs, ever
cursed by a hereditary crown.”
IN THE ENTRANCE HALL ARE PORTRAITS OF KINGS GEORGE II. AND GEORGE III.,
BY SHACKLETON AND RAMSAY, OF JOHN, FOURTH EARL OF SANDWICH, AND OF
SEVERAL BRITISH ADMIRALS, BY DANCE.
_LORD SANDWICH’S ROOM._
_Omai, the Otaheitan._
AN ENGRAVING.
He played such a prominent part in the entertainments at Hinchingbrook,
and had such a curious life of adventure, that a brief notice will
scarcely be misplaced. His father was a man of considerable property
in Whetea, one of the South Pacific Islands, which had been conquered
by a neighbour, and he took refuge in Huaheine, where he died, leaving
Omai, and several other children, in a state of poverty, and dependence.
Captain Cook tells us, that Captain Furneaux, visiting these islands,
becoming interested in Omai, conveyed him to England, where he became a
resident under Lord Sandwich’s roof, (John, fourth Earl, then First Lord
of the Admiralty.) Captain Cook and Mr. Cradock give the same character
of the half savage, “intelligent, indolent, childlike, full of affection,
and gratitude to his noble patron, but cherishing a feeling of revenge
towards those of his own countrymen, who had ill-treated his father,
and reduced himself to poverty. Lord Sandwich took him about to music
meetings, races, etc.” “At Leicester,” says Mr. Cradock, “he divided
public attention, with the Earl of Sandwich when that nobleman played on
the kettledrum, his favourite instrument at the music meetings. ‘What
has become of poor Omai?’ was the question once asked on some festive
occasion. ‘Oh,’ was the answer, ‘I have just left him in the tea room,
very happy, gallantly handing about bread and butter, to the ladies.’”
Omai was not averse to admiration, and adapted himself curiously to his
new life, showing such an aptitude for dancing, among other things,
that a lady assured me with a little tuition he would make an excellent
partner. On one occasion Lord Sandwich proposed that he should dress a
shoulder of mutton, after the fashion of his country, and he proceeded
accordingly to dig a hole in the lawn at Hinchingbrook, placed fuel
covered with clean pebbles at the bottom, then laid the mutton neatly
enveloped in leaves at the top, and having closed the hole walked
constantly round it, observing the sun. The joint was then served at
table, and much commended. Having been offered some stewed morella
cherries, he jumped up, and assured the society he no more wished to
partake of human blood, than they did. One summer’s day he entered the
breakfast room at Hinchingbrook, in great pain, his hand much swollen,
not being acquainted with the word “wasp,” he made Dr. Solander, who
was present, understand he had been wounded by a “soldier bird,” upon
which the doctor remarked: “No naturalist could have better described
the obnoxious insect.” “He was,” says Cradock, “naturally genteel, and
prepossessing, and fond of good clothes, once finding fault with those
prepared for him, as being inferior to the quality of the dress, of the
same cut the gentleman who sat beside him wore—this was of Genoese,
and Omai’s of English velvet.” So far had he advanced in civilization.
The government judged it best, he should return to his own country,
lest the natives should suspect us of having made away with him. Mr.
Cradock says he bade him good-bye on the steps of the Admiralty, when
the poor fellow was deeply affected. Captain Cook says his feelings were
mingled: “When he talked on the voyage, about England, and his friends,
and protectors there, he was much moved, and could scarcely refrain from
tears, so full of gratitude was his heart—but when we spoke of his return
to his country, his eyes sparkled in the expectation of the reception he
should meet with, on account of his superior knowledge, and still more
on account of the treasures, with which he was laden.” The King, Lord
Sandwich, Mr. Bankes (afterwards Sir Joseph), and many other friends,
had furnished him with every article, which the sailors’ knowledge of
the country, made them believe would be acceptable there. In fact,
every means had been taken during his abode in England, as also at his
departure, to make him the instrument of conveying to the Islands of the
Pacific Ocean, an exalted opinion of England’s greatness, and generosity.
Omai, as may have been conjectured, was very useful to Captain Cook on
the voyage out, serving as interpreter, and mediator, on many occasions,
at the Friendly Islands, and elsewhere. On their arrival at Otaheite,
several canoes came off, but Omai took no notice of the crews or they of
him, neither did they appear to recognise him, as a countryman. At length
Ootee, a chief, brother-in-law to Omai, and three or four others, who all
knew him before he went to England, came on board. But their meeting was
in no wise tender—on the contrary, great indifference was manifested on
both sides, till Omai, taking Ootee down into the cabin, displayed his
treasures of trinkets etc., but more especially some red feathers, of a
few of which, he begged his relative’s acceptance. When this was known
on deck, the whole state of affairs was changed, and Ootee, who would
scarcely speak to Omai before, now begged they might be Tayos (friends)
and exchange names—an honour Omai accepted with dignity, and Ootee, in
return for the valuable feathers, sent on shore for a hog. Such were
the civilities that passed, on our friend’s return, and it was evident
that all the affection was for his property, and not his person. When
present at some of the barbarous customs, prevalent in these Islands,
Omai, by desire of Captain Cook, expostulated with the chiefs on their
cruelty with so much spirit, as to incur their displeasure. The gallant
commander gives an elaborate account of the dainties prepared for him,
and some of the ship’s crew, when they dined on shore with the two
brothers-in-law. Captain Cook endeavoured to persuade Omai to settle at
Otaheite, but his wishes turned to Whetea, his native place, where his
father had originally held land. The Captain thought he could get it
restored to him, if he would make friends with the conquerors, but Omai
was a staunch patriot, and refused, begging that he might be reinstated
through the intervention of the English arms. No way likely, said Captain
Cook, who, however, willing to serve him, sought an interview with the
chief men of the Island, to induce them to permit Omai to reside at
Huaheine. A grand function took place, when Omai made his offering to the
gods, of red feathers, and fine cloth from England; and a set of prayers
dictated by himself, was pronounced, in which his English friends were
duly remembered, Lord Sandwich and Tootee (Cook) in particular. He also
told them of his kind reception in England by the King and his Earees,
(nobles), that he had returned enriched with all sorts of treasures, that
would be useful to his countrymen, etc., and that it was Captain Cook’s
wish that they should give him a piece of land to build a house, etc.;
and that if they would not do so——here followed some threats, which the
Englishman had to disavow, and the chiefs were so much edified by the
gallant sailor’s speech, that one of them assured him, the whole Island
was his own, and therefore he could give what portion he pleased, to
his friend. The result of all this was, that land was granted, and the
ships’ carpenters built Omai a house, and laid out, and planted his small
garden. He found several relatives at Huaheine, “who did not indeed rob
him,” says Captain Cook, “but I fear they are scarcely of sufficient
influence, to protect him from others.” The kind Englishman was under
great apprehension, at the danger Omai incurred from being the only rich
man in the Island, and he took every precaution he could think of, to
ensure his safety, declaring that he would soon revisit the Island, and
if any one had proved an enemy to Omai, he might dread the wrath of the
British commander. All the English treasures were carried on shore, as
soon as Omai’s house had progressed sufficiently—pots, kettles, dishes,
plates, and better still, a box of toys and of fireworks—the latter an
object of pleasure, and fear to the inhabitants. But most of the English
utensils were useless to him here, and he wisely disposed of them, for
hatchets, or other tools.
Before he sailed, Captain Cook saw Omai settled in his own house, with
an establishment consisting of his brother, and eight or nine other men,
(no female—Omai was too volatile to choose a wife), and there the English
officers were received with hospitality and excellent cheer. Cook made
the new householder, a present of several fire-arms, which he coveted,
and had the following inscription cut on the house:
“Georgius Tertius, Rex;
2 Novembris, 1777.
Names { Resolution, JAC. COOK, Pr.
{ Discovery, CAR. CLERKE, Pr.”
At four in the afternoon, of the 2nd of November, the two English vessels
sailed. “Many of the Natives remained on board, to hear five guns fired,
and then took their leave, but Omai lingered, till we were at sea, and
then returned in a boat, sent to recover a hawser that had been broken.
He took leave of his English friends, and showed a moody resolution till
he approached Captain Cook, to bid him farewell. Then his tears could
no longer be suppressed, and he wept the whole time the boat was going
ashore.” Captain Cook heard from him when the ships were at Whetea; he
sent two men in a canoe to say, that he was prospering and at peace, and
that his only misfortune consisted in the loss of a goat, who had died in
kidding.
One would gladly have heard something of the latter days of Omai, and
can only hope that his state of semi-civilization did not make him
discontented, with his life in Otaheite, or obnoxious to its inhabitants.
If, as is most probable, the terrible details of his benefactor’s murder
ever reached him, the grateful heart of Omai must have been wrung with
sorrow.
_Count Walewski._
Born, 1801. Died, 1868.—He was the son of the Emperor Napoleon I.,
by a Polish lady of rank. When only nineteen he went on a diplomatic
mission to London, to plead the cause of Poland, having inherited from
his mother, an enthusiastic love for her country. Charles Greville says
in his Diary, that “his agreeable manners and remarkable beauty made
him welcome in society;” and in 1831, he married Lady Caroline Montagu,
sister to the Earl of Sandwich. He served for a time, under the Polish
flag; was present at the Battle of Grokow, and was decorated with the
National Military Cross. He afterwards obtained a commission in a
regiment of French Hussars, but before long he laid down the sword to
take up the pen. Among his past publications was “Un mot sur la question
d’Afrique, et de l’alliance Anglaise.” He became the editor of the
_Messager_, and wrote a five-act comedy, called “L’Ecole du Monde,” which
was put on the stage in 1840.
He resumed his diplomatic career in the same year, and was sent to Egypt
under the ministry of Thiers; he also held several appointments under
Guizot.
When Louis Napoleon became President, Walewski attached himself to his
cause. In 1849, he went as minister to Florence, and Naples, and in
1854, he came as Ambassador to England, but was recalled to Paris, the
ensuing year, to take the portfolio of Foreign Affairs, vacant by the
resignation of M. Drouyn de l’Huys. In this post his connection with, and
knowledge of, England, made him instrumental in cementing the alliance of
the two nations. In 1856, he presided as French Plenipotentiary over the
Congress of Paris. In 1860, he resigned his post, but was again employed
as successor to M. Fould. In 1863, he retired from public life, it was
supposed on account of his strong Polish tendencies. He had the Grand
Cross of the Legion of Honour, and other decorations.
He married as his second wife the grand-daughter of Stanislaus
Poniatowski, nephew to the last King of Poland. To France and its
Emperor, he was an irreparable loss.
_William Poyntz, Esquire_:
BY SIR GEORGE HAYTER.
Born, 1769. Died, 1840. The last male representative of the ancient
family of Poyntz. His grandfather, Stephen Poyntz, was in diplomacy, and
employed on several foreign missions. He married Anna Maria Mordaunt,
cousin of the Earl of Peterborough, and Maid of Honour to Caroline, Queen
of George II. To Mr. and Mrs. Poyntz’s care was confided the bringing
up, of William, Duke of Cumberland, and a curious picture was painted,
according to the taste of the day, in which the Queen presents her son to
her _ci-devant_ Maid of Honour, the lady in the garb of Minerva, and the
young Prince in the stiff coat and breeches of the period. Mrs. Poyntz’s
influence at Court stood her once in good stead, when she pleaded
in behalf of Lord Cromartie, under sentence of death in the ’15, in
compliance with a touching appeal from his unhappy wife. The letter is
now in possession of Mrs. Poyntz’s great grand-daughter, Mary Boyle. Lord
Cromartie’s life was spared, though fortune, and title were lost to him.
The Queen bestowed as a dowry on Miss Mordaunt, the estate of Midgham, in
Berkshire, but the gift is said never to have been paid for, out of the
royal purse!
Stephen died in 1750, and was succeeded by his son William, who married
a daughter and co-heiress of Kelland Courtenay, Esq., of Painsford,
Devon, by Elizabeth Montagu, daughter of Viscount Hinchingbrook. They had
issue: William Stephen, the subject of this notice, Montagu Mordaunt,
who died early in life, and four daughters; Georgiana, married first to
Mr. Fawkner, and afterwards to Lord John Townshend; Louisa, married, as
his second wife, to the Hon. George Bridgeman; Isabella, married to her
cousin, the Earl of Cork and Orrery; and Carolina, married to his brother
Captain, the Hon. Courtenay Boyle. William Poyntz was at one time in the
Tenth Hussars, and afterwards Captain of the Midhurst Volunteers. In
1796, he sat in Parliament for St. Albans, and was re-elected in 1802,
and 1806. In 1807, he was returned for Callington, and again in 1812-18.
He represented Chichester from 1823 to 1826, and Ashburton, from 1831
to 1835; and then sat for Midhurst, till he resigned, and was succeeded
by his son-in-law, Captain the Hon. Frederick Spencer. In politics he
was a Liberal in the best sense of the word; firm and unwavering in his
opinions in favour of progress, but opposed to destruction, and a staunch
upholder of the Church.
In 1794, he married the Hon. Elizabeth Browne, only sister, and sole
heiress of Viscount Montagu, who was drowned the year before at the Falls
of Schaffausen. By her, Mr. Poyntz became possessed of Cowdray Park, in
Sussex, and an extensive property, where they resided almost entirely
after their marriage. They had two sons drowned in the prime of life, and
in the sight of both parents, Mr. Poyntz being in the boat, and his wife
looking on from the window of a house at Bognor, where the tragedy took
place in 1815. Their three daughters in consequence became co-heiresses:
Frances, Lady Clinton; Elizabeth, married to the Hon. Frederick Spencer,
who succeeded to the Earldom; and Isabella, Marchioness of Exeter.
In 1830, after a happy union of thirty-six years, Mrs. Poyntz died,
deeply and universally regretted; and the widower removed to Hampton
Court, after a time, to be nearer his daughters. For some years before
his death, he was the cause of great anxiety to his family and friends
from being constantly subject to fainting fits, the result, as was
afterwards proved, of an accident in the hunting field, in 1833. In one
of these seizures he expired suddenly, at his house on Hampton Court
Green, beloved and lamented, not only by his surviving children, and
his two surviving sisters, but by a large circle of acquaintance, and
friends. In every class he was known, and loved for his warm heart, his
genial humour, his sparkling wit. He was interred by the side of his
wife, in her ancestral chapel in Easebourne Church, adjoining Cowdray
Park, where a monument had been already erected to their two sons.
In early life Mr. Poyntz was a friend, and companion of his cousin
George, Lord Sandwich, by whose will he was entrusted with the
guardianship of the young earl, then only seven years of age. Between
the guardian and his ward an affection subsisted, scarcely inferior to
that of parent, and child. Lord Sandwich spent many of his holidays at
Cowdray, and the friendly relations which subsisted between him, and Mr.
Poyntz were never interrupted till the death of the latter, in 1840.
The two families of Poyntz and Browne, (Lord Montagu) are now extinct, in
the male line.
[Illustration]
EMILY FAITHFULL, Printer, 85, Praed Street, Paddington, W.