his open, manly, and generous nature, and his wise criticisms of
the ruinous expenditure on the “field of the cloth of gold”—was
treacherously invited to court by the king, and, suspecting no
mischief, he obeyed the summons, and set out on his journey from
Thornbury, not observing for some time that he was closely followed
by three knights of the king’s body-guard, “and a secret power of
servants-at-arms.” His suspicions were first awakened at Windsor, where
he lodged for the night, “the same three knights lying close by,” and
where he was treated with marked disrespect by the king’s gentleman
harbinger. From Windsor, Buckingham rode on to Westminster, and then
took his barge to row down to Greenwich, where the court then was,
calling, however, on his way, at York House, to see Cardinal Wolsey,
who was denied to him. “Well, yet will I drink of my lord cardinal’s
wine as I pass,” said the duke: “and then a gentleman of my lord
cardinal’s brought the duke with much reverence into the cellar, where
the duke drank; but when he saw and perceived no cheer to him was made,
he changed colour, and departed.” Passing forward down the Thames,
as he neared the City, his barge was hailed and boarded by Sir Henry
Marney, captain of the body-guard, who, in the king’s name, attached
him as a traitor. He was at once carried on shore and taken through
Thames Street to the Tower, “to the great astonishment and regret of
the people, to whom he was justly endeared.” This was on the 16th of
April, 1521. On the 13th of May he was put on his mock trial and was
condemned. “I shall never sue the king for life,” said he; and he kept
his word. On the 17th he was executed, without having once supplicated
his brutal king to spare the life he was unjustly taking away. “He
was as undaunted in sight of the block as he had been before his
judges; and he died as brave men die—firmly and meekly, and without
bravado.” His death was the grief of the people. “God have mercy on his
soul, for he was a most wise and noble prince, and the mirrour of all
courtesie”—that was written of him at the time.
By this detestable piece of royal treachery Henry became possessed
of the estates of the duke, and held them in his own hands for
several years, enlarging Penshurst Park, and reaping benefit from
his unhallowed acquisitions. By Edward VI., Penshurst, with its
appurtenances, was “granted to Sir Ralph Fane, who, within two years,
was executed as an accomplice of the Protector Somerset.”
Soon after this, the young monarch gave Penshurst, with other adjoining
estates, to Sir William Sidney, one of the heroes of Flodden Field,
“who had been his tutor, chamberlain, and steward of his household from
his birth to his coronation.” Thus Penshurst came into the family of
the Sidneys, concerning whom we will proceed to give some particulars.
The earliest member of the family of whom aught authentic is known
is Sir William Sidney, who lived in the reign of Stephen. His son,
Sir Simon (1213), married Margaret, daughter of Sir Thomas Delamere;
and their son again, Sir Roger (1239), married Eleanor, daughter of
Sir John Sopham, by whom he had issue two sons, Sir Henry (1268), who
succeeded him, and Simon; and a daughter, married to Sir John Wales.
Sir Henry Sidney married Maud, daughter of Robert d’Abernon, and
granddaughter of Sir John d’Abernon. By her he had issue four sons and
two daughters, and was succeeded by his eldest son, Sir Henry Sidney,
who, marrying a daughter of Sir Ralph Hussey, died in 1306, and was
succeeded by his son, Sir William Sidney, who took to wife Elizabeth,
daughter of Sir Richard Ashburnham, by whom he had three sons, viz.:
William, who married a daughter of John de Altaripa, but died without
heirs male; John, who died young; and another John, who succeeded him,
and marrying Helen, daughter of Robert Batisford, was the father, by
her, of Sir William Sidney. This Sir William took to wife Joanna,
daughter of William Brokhull, who married, first, Margaret Orre, and
second, Isabell. By his first wife he had issue two sons, John, who
succeeded him, and William (of whom presently). This John Sidney had
a son John, who married Isabell Payteuine, by whom he had an only
daughter and heiress Johanna, who married William Appesley. William
Sydney, by his wife, Alicia, daughter and heiress of John Clumford,
had one son, William, and four daughters. This William Sidney married
Cicely, daughter and co-heiress of Sir John Michell, and Margaret, his
wife, who was daughter and heiress of Matham. He was succeeded by his
son, William Sidney, who married twice. By his first wife, Isabell St.
John, he had a son, William, whose line ended in co-heiresses, married
to William Vuedall and John Hampden; and by his second wife, Thomasen,
daughter and heiress of John Barrington, and widow of Lonsford (and
who, after Sidney’s death, became wife of Lord Hopton), he had issue
a son, Nicholas Sidney, who married Anne, cousin and co-heiress of
Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.
[Illustration: _North and West Fronts._]
By her he had a son, Sir William Sidney, who married Anne, daughter of
Hugh Pagenham, and by her had, besides Sir Henry, who succeeded him,
four daughters, viz.: Frances, who became Countess of Sussex by her
marriage to Thomas Ratcliffe, Earl of Sussex, Viscount Fitzwalter,
Lord Egremont and Burnell, Lord Chamberlain, Knight of the Garter, and
one of the Privy Council; Mary, married to Sir William Dormer; Lucy,
married to Sir James Harrington; and Anne, married to Sir William
Fitzwilliam. This Sir William Sidney was made a knight, 3rd Henry
VIII., at the burning of Conquest, and a banneret on Flodden Field,
5th Henry VIII. He was chamberlain to Prince Edward (afterwards Edward
VI.), and also steward of his household; and his wife was “governesse
of the sayd prince while he was in his nurse’s handes.” To him it
was that Penshurst was given by Edward VI. as a mark of affectionate
regard. Dying in 1553, he was succeeded by his son, Sir Henry Sidney,
who was a Knight of the Garter, Lord President of Wales, and one of the
Privy Council; he married Lady Mary, eldest daughter of John, Duke of
Northumberland, and by her had issue “the incomparable” Sir Philip,
and two other sons, Robert and Thomas, and a daughter, Mary, married
to Henry Herbert, Earl of Pembroke. This Henry Sidney was knighted,
3rd Edward VI., and was, when only twenty-two years of age, sent by
that amiable young monarch as ambassador to the French court. Under
Queen Mary he was Lord Treasurer of Ireland, and Lord Chief Justice,
and under Elizabeth was, in 1564, made Lord President of the Council in
the Marches of Wales; Knight of the Garter in 1564; and was twice Lord
Deputy of Ireland and Lord President of Wales.
Sir Henry Sidney had been brought up and educated with Edward VI.,
“being companion and many times the bedfellow of the prince;” and
that young king died in his arms. This death so affected Sir Henry,
“that he returned to Penshurst to indulge his melancholy. Here he soon
afterwards sheltered the ruined family of his father-in-law, the Duke
of Northumberland, in whose fall he would in all probability have been
implicated but for his retirement.” He died at Ludlow, the seat of his
government, in 1586—his heart being there buried, but his body was
interred with great solemnity, by the queen’s order, at Penshurst. The
concurring testimony of all historians and biographers, such as Camden,
Sir Richard Cox, Campian (in his “History of Ireland”), Hollinshed,
Anthony-à-Wood, and Lloyd (in his “State Worthies”), proves the
extraordinary courage, abilities, and virtue of Sir Henry Sidney. These
qualities made him the most direct and clear politician. He seems to
have been incapable of intrigue and the supple arts of the court. “His
dispatches are full, open, and manly; and Ireland, and perhaps Wales,
to this day experience the good effects of his wise government.”
“As the father was, so was the son;” the son being Sir Philip Sidney,
to whom we have alluded. Sir Philip was born at Penshurst, November
29th, 1554. His life was one scene of romance from its commencement to
its close. His early years were spent in travel; and on his return he
was married to the daughter of Sir Francis Walsingham, a lady of many
accomplishments, and of “extraordinary handsomeness,” but his heart was
given to another. The Lady Penelope Devereux won it, and kept it till
he fell on the field of Zutphen. Family regards had forbidden their
marriage, but she was united to the immortal part of him, and that
contract has not yet been dissolved. She is still the Philoclea of the
“Arcadia,” and Stella in the poems of “Astrophel.” It is unnecessary
to follow in detail the course of Sir Philip Sidney’s life. There is
no strange inconsistency to reason off, no stain to clear, no blame to
talk away.
[Illustration: _View from the Garden._]
We describe it when we name his accomplishments; we remember it as
we would a dream of uninterrupted glory. His learning, his beauty,
his chivalry, his grace, shed a lustre on the most glorious reign
recorded in the English annals. England herself, “by reason of the
widespread fame of Sir Philip Sidney,” rose exalted in the eyes of
foreign nations—he was the idol, the darling of his own. For with
every sort of power at his command, it was his creed to think all
vain but affection and honour, and to hold the simplest and cheapest
pleasures the truest and most precious. The only displeasure he ever
incurred at court was when he vindicated the rights and independence of
English commoners in his own gallant person against the arrogance of
English nobles in the person of the Earl of Oxford. For a time, then,
he retired from the court, and sought rest in his loved simplicity. He
went to Wilton; and there, for the amusement of his dear sister, Mary,
Countess of Pembroke, he wrote, between the years 1579 and 1581, the
“Arcadia,” a work whose strange fortune it has been to be too highly
valued in one age, and far too underrated in another. Immediately
after its publication it was received with unbounded applause. “From
it was taken the language of compliment and love; it gave a tinge of
similitude to the colloquial and courtly dialect of the time; and
from thence its influence was communicated to the lucubrations of the
poet, the historian, and the divine.” The book is a mixture of what
has been termed the heroic and the pastoral romance, interspersed
with interludes and episodes, and details the various and marvellous
adventures of two friends, Musidorus and Pyrocles. It was not intended
to be published to the world, but was written merely to pleasure the
Countess of Pembroke—“a principal ornament to the family of the
Sidneys.” The famous epitaph, usually ascribed to the pen of Ben
Jonson, though in reality, it appears, written by William Browne, the
author of “Britannia’s Pastorals,” and preserved in a MS. volume of his
poems in the Lansdowne Collection in the British Museum, although so
well known, will bear repeating here:—
“Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
_Sidney’s_ sister! _Pembroke’s_ mother
Death, ere thou hast slain another
Fair, and learn’d, and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee!
Marble piles let no man raise
To her name for after-days;
Some kind woman, born as she,
Reading this, like Niobe,
Shall turn marble, and become
Both her mourner and her tomb.”
Again, however, Sidney returned to court, and his queen seized every
opportunity to do him honour. He received her smiles with the same high
and manly gallantry, the same plain and simple boldness, with which
he had taken her frowns. In the end, Elizabeth, who, to preserve this
“jewel of her crown,” had forcibly laid hands on him when he projected
a voyage to America with Sir Francis Drake, and placed her veto on his
quitting England when he was offered the crown of Poland, could not
restrain his bravery in battle when circumstances called him there. At
Zutphen, on the 22nd of September, 1586, he received a mortal wound;
and here occurred the touching incident to which, perhaps, more than
to any other circumstance, Sir Philip is indebted for his heroic fame.
It is thus related by his friend and biographer, Fulke Greville, Lord
Broke:—“In his sad progress, passing along by the rest of the army,
where his uncle, the general, was, and being thirsty from excess of
bleeding, he called for drink, which was presently brought him; but, as
he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried
along, who had been wounded at the same time, ghastly, casting up his
eyes at the bottle; which Sir Philip perceiving, took it from his head
before he drank, and delivered to the poor man with these words: ‘Thy
necessity is yet greater than mine.’ He lived in great pain for many
days after he was wounded, and died on the 17th of October, 1586.” The
close of his life affords a beautiful lesson. “Calmly and steadily he
awaited the approach of death. His prayers were long and fervent; his
bearing was indeed that of a Christian hero.” He had a noble funeral;
kings clad themselves in garments of grief: a whole people grieved for
the loss of the most accomplished scholar, the most graceful courtier,
the best soldier, and the worthiest man of the country and the age.
He was buried in state, in the old Cathedral of St. Paul, on the 16th
of February. Both Universities composed verses to his memory, and so
general was the mourning for him, that, “for many months after his
death, it was accounted indecent for any gentleman of quality to appear
at court or in the city in any light or gaudy apparel.”
We may place implicit faith in the testimony of the contemporaries of
Sir Philip Sidney; and by all of them he is described as very near
perfection. Their praises must have been as sincere as they were
hearty; for his fortune was too poor to furnish him with the means
to purchase them with other than gifts of kindly zeal, affectionate
sympathy, cordial advice, and generous recommendations to more
prosperous men. From Spenser himself we learn that Sidney
“First did lift my muse out of the floor.”
In his dedication of the “Ruins of Time” to Sidney’s sister, he speaks
of her brother as “the hope of all learned men, and the patron of my
young muse.” “He was,” writes Camden, “the great glory of his family,
the great hope of mankind, the most lively pattern of virtue, and the
darling of the learned world.”
[Illustration: _The Baron’s Court._]
Sir Philip, dying without issue, was succeeded by his brother, Sir
Robert Sidney, who was created Lord Sidney of Penshurst, and afterwards
Viscount Lisle and Earl of Leicester, and a Knight of the Garter, by
James I. He died at Penshurst in July, 1626, and was succeeded in his
title and estates by his son, Robert, as second Earl of Leicester. This
nobleman was “several times ambassador to foreign courts, and in 1641
was appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, but, through some unfounded
aspersions cast against his fidelity and honour, he was never permitted
to seat himself in his new station, and was ultimately dispossessed of
it.” He retired in disgust to Penshurst, where he spent his time in
literary retirement, for he was well read in the classics, and spoke
Latin, French, Italian, and Spanish, and purchased most of the curious
books in those languages, “and several learned men made him presents
of their works.” He remained in retirement at Penshurst during the
domination of the Parliament and the rule of the Protector, and died
there in November, 1677, in the eighty-second year of his age. His
lordship, who married the Lady Dorothea Percy, had fourteen children,
six sons and eight daughters. His eldest son, Philip, succeeded to the
title and estates, and lived in troubled times the life of an easy
gentleman. Not so the second son, Algernon, the famous scion of the
Sidneys, whose name is scarcely less renowned in history than that of
his great-uncle, Sir Philip. Of the daughters, Lady Dorothea became
Countess of Sunderland, and she was the famous “Sacharissa” of the poet
Waller. Waller wooed her in vain; she estimated the frivolous poet
at his true value. He called her “Sacharissa—a name, as he used to
say pleasantly, derived from _saccharum_, sugar.” Sacharissa and her
lover met long after the spring of life, and on her asking him “when
he would write such fine verses on her again?” the poet ungallantly
replied, “Oh, madam, when you are as young again!” Algernon Sidney
was born at Penshurst, in 1621. He had scarcely reached the age of
manhood when he was called upon to play his part in the mighty drama
then acting before the world. He joined the Parliament, and became a
busy soldier—serving with repute in Ireland, where he was “some time
Lieutenant-General of the Horse and Governor of Dublin,” until Cromwell
assumed the position of a sovereign, when Sidney retired in disgust to
the family seat in Kent, and began to write his celebrated “Discourses
on Government.” At the Restoration he was abroad, and “being so noted
a republican,” thought it unsafe to return to England; for seventeen
years after this event he was a wanderer throughout Europe, suffering
severe privations, “exposed (according to his own words) to all those
troubles, inconveniences, and mischiefs into which they are liable who
have nothing to subsist upon, in a place farre from home, wheare no
assistance can possibly be expected, and wheare I am known to be of a
quality which makes all lowe and meane wayes of living shamefull and
detestible.” The school of adversity failed to subdue the proud spirit
of the republican; and on his return to his native country, 1677, at
the entreaty of his father, “who desired to see him before he died,”
the “later Sidney” became a marked man, whom the depraved Charles and
his minions were resolved to sacrifice. He was accused of high treason,
implicated in the notorious Rye House Plot, carried through a form of
trial on the 21st of November, and beheaded on Tower Hill on the 8th of
December, 1683. His execution was a judicial murder.
Philip, third earl, lived to a great age, eighty-two, and dying in
1696, was succeeded by his grandson, John, who, dying unmarried, was
succeeded successively by two of his brothers; the last earl, Jocelyn,
died in 1748, without any legitimate issue. He, however, left a natural
daughter, afterwards married to Mr. Streatfield, to whom he devised the
whole of his estates. His next elder brother, Colonel Thomas Sidney,
who died before him, had, however, left two daughters, to whom the
estate properly devolved as co-heiresses; and after a long course
of litigation their right was established, and the guardians of the
young lady found it necessary to consent to a compromise (sanctioned
by Act of Parliament) with the husbands of the two co-heiresses. In
the division of the property, Penshurst passed to the younger of the
co-heiresses, Elizabeth, wife of William Perry, Esq. (who assumed the
name of Sidney), of Turville Park, Buckinghamshire, who repaired the
mansion, and added to its collection of pictures. He died in 1757, and
his widow, Mrs. Perry-Sidney, was left in sole possession. This lady,
after the death of her elder sister, Lady Sherrard, purchased most of
the family estates which had fallen to that lady’s share. A claim to
the estates and title of Earl of Leicester was made by a son of the
countess of the last earl (Jocelyn), born after her separation from her
husband, but was unsuccessful.
Mrs. Perry-Sidney had an only son, Algernon Perry-Sidney, who died
during her lifetime, but left two daughters, his and her co-heiresses,
to the elder of whom, Elizabeth, who was married to Bysshe Shelley,
Esq., Penshurst passed. Their son, Sir John Shelley Sidney, Bart.,
inherited Penshurst and the manors and estates in Kent; he was created
a baronet in 1818. He was succeeded as second baronet by his son, Sir
Philip Charles Sidney, D.C.L., G.C.H., &c., who was an equerry to
the king. He was born in 1800, and in 1825 married the Lady Sophia
Fitzclarence, one of the daughters of his Majesty King William IV. and
Mrs. Jordan, and sister to the Earl of Munster. In 1835 he was raised
to the peerage by William IV., by the title of Baron de L’Isle and
Dudley. By his wife, the Lady Sophia Fitzclarence (who died in 1837),
his lordship had issue one son, the present peer, and three daughters,
the Honourable Adelaide Augusta Wilhelmina, married to her cousin, the
Honourable Frederick Charles George Fitzclarence (who has assumed the
name of Hunlocke), son of the first Earl of Munster; the Honourable
Ernestine Wellington, married to Philip Percival, Esq.; and the
Honourable Sophia Philippa.
The present noble owner of Penshurst, Philip Sidney, second Baron de
L’Isle and Dudley, and a baronet, was born in 1828. He was educated
at Eton, and was an officer in the Royal Horse Guards. He is a
Deputy-Lieutenant of Kent and of Yorkshire, and Hereditary Visitor
of Sidney-Sussex College, Cambridge. His lordship, who succeeded his
father in 1851, married, in 1850, Mary, only daughter of Sir William
Foulis, Bart., of Ingleby Manor, and has issue living, by her, four
sons, the Honourable Philip, the heir-presumptive to the title, born
1853; the Honourable Algernon, born 1854: the Honourable Henry, born
1858; and the Honourable William, born 1859; and one daughter, the
Honourable Mary Sophia, born 1851.
The arms of Lord de L’Isle and Dudley are, quarterly, first and fourth,
_or_, a phoon, _azure_, for Sidney; second and third, _sable_, on
a fesse engrailed, between three whelk shells, _or_, a mullet for
difference, for Shelley. Crests, first, a porcupine, statant, _azure_,
quills collar and chain, _or_, for Sidney; second, a griffin’s head
erased, _argent_, ducally gorged, _or_, for Shelley. Supporters,
dexter, a porcupine, _azure_, quills collar and chain, _or_; sinister,
a lion, queue fourchée, _vert_. Motto: “Quo Fata Vocant.”
[Illustration: _The Village and Entrance to Churchyard._]
PENSHURST, or, as it is called, Penshurst House, or Castle, or Place,
“the seat of the Sidneys,” adjoins the village to which it gives a
name. It is situated in the weald of Kent, nearly six miles south-west
of Tunbridge, and about thirty miles from London. The neighbourhood
is remarkably primitive. As an example of the prevailing character
of the houses, we have copied a group that stands at the entrance of
the churchyard—a small cluster of quiet cottages (recently, however,
rebuilt upon the old model), behind which repose the rude forefathers
of the hamlet, with brave knights of imperishable renown, and near
which is an elm of prodigious size and age, that has seen generations
after generations flourish and decay. The sluggish Medway creeps lazily
round the park, which consists of about 400 acres, finely wooded, and
happily diversified with hill and dale. A double row of beech-trees of
some extent preserves the name of “Sacharissa’s Walk,” and a venerable
oak, called “Sidney’s Oak,” the trunk of which is hollowed by time, is
pointed out as the veritable tree that was planted on the day of Sir
Philip’s birth; of which Rare Ben Jonson thus writes:—
“That taller tree of which a nut we set
At his great birth when all the muses met;”—
to which Waller makes reference as “the sacred mark of noble Sidney’s
birth;” concerning which Southey also has some lines; and from which a
host of lesser poets have drawn inspiration.
[Illustration: _The Record Tower and the Church, from the Garden._]
Until within the last thirty or forty years Penshurst House was in a
sadly dilapidated state. Its utter ruin, indeed, appeared a settled
thing, until Lord de L’Isle set himself to the task of its restoration,
and under his admirable direction it rapidly assumed its ancient
character—a combination of several styles of architecture, in which
the Tudor predominated. One of our views is of the mansion, from the
principal approach through the park. In another view the west front
is shown, the north front being seen in short perspective; on the
left is “Sir Henry’s Tower,” containing his arms, and an inscription
stating that he was “Lord Deputie General of the Realm of Ireland in
1579.” This tower terminates the north wing, in which is the principal
entrance, by an ancient gateway, leading through one of the smaller
courts to the great hall. Over this gateway is an antique slab, setting
forth that “The most religious and renowned Prince, Edward the Sixt,
Kinge of England, France, and Ireland, gave this house of Pencestre
with the manors, landes and appurtenaynces thereunto belonginge to,
unto his trustye and well-beloved servant, Syr William Sidney, Knight
Banneret.”