a local or territorial character should be observed. Occasionally, one
hears of a Marquis _of_ Townshend, a Marquis _of_ Conyngham, an Earl
_of_ Waldegrave, _of_ Granville, &c. Such expressions are erroneous;
there are, in fact, no such titles, and the ‘of’ is improperly
introduced. We ought to say Earl Granville, &c. So also with the Earls
Cairns, Fitzwilliam, Grey, Stanhope, &c., whose name and chief title
are the same. We have, however, Earl Brownlow, whose family name is
Cust. Moreover, a peer whose chief title is personal, may yet possess
others which are local, but not, so far as we know, territorial. Thus,
Earl Fortescue’s second title is Viscount Ebrington, and the Marquis
Conyngham is Earl of Mountcharles. Again, all a peer’s titles may be
the same as his name, as in the case of Sir J. V. S. Townshend, Bart.,
who is Marquis, Viscount, and Baron Townshend. It is, however, usual in
this family for the eldest son to be designated Viscount Raynham during
his father’s lifetime, the viscounty being, in fact, ‘Townshend of
Raynham, in the county of Norfolk.’
But even where peers do bear territorial or local titles, as, for
example, the Duke of Norfolk, Marquis of Northampton or Earl of Derby,
it is not usual in society to so speak of them except in the case of a
dukedom; all noblemen, whether actually so, or only by courtesy, being
styled simply Lord So-and-so.
It now and then happens that some distinguished man, who for some
reason is not disposed to accept a peerage himself, will yet permit
such honour to be conferred on his wife. This was the case with
the late Lord Beaconsfield, whose wife became in 1868 Viscountess
Beaconsfield, her husband still remaining a commoner. Then, again, in
1836 the wife of Sir John Campbell, afterwards Lord Campbell, and Chief
Justice of England, was raised to the peerage as Baroness Stratheden,
before her husband was, a circumstance which will be found to disclose
the unusual fact of three baronies being conferred in the short space
of six years on two families, each indebted for its elevation to
nobility to a successful lawyer. The father of Lady Stratheden was Sir
James Scarlett, who was created Chief Baron of the Exchequer and Lord
Abinger in January 1835. Next year the Stratheden peerage was created;
and in 1841, Lady Stratheden’s husband became Lord Chancellor of Great
Britain and Lord Campbell. She died in 1860, whereupon her eldest son
succeeded to her title. Lord Campbell died next year; and the same
nobleman also took his father’s title. Thus we have what seems at first
sight the puzzling title of Stratheden and Campbell.
There are a few other instances in the peerage of the employment of
a double title, for example, the Dukes of Buckingham and Chandos;
Hamilton and Brandon; Richmond and Gordon: the Earls of Mar and Kellie;
Warwick and Brooke; Pembroke and Montgomery; Stamford and Warrington;
Suffolk and Berkshire; Wemyss and March; Winchelsea and Nottingham,
&c.: Viscount Massereene and Ferrard (who sits as Lord Oriel): Baron
Saye and Sele; Baron Mowbray, Segrave, and Stourton; Oranmore and
Browne; De L’Isle and Dudley, &c., which the reader inclined to do so
may investigate for himself.
Then we have titles of another compound order, as those of Lord
Clifford of Chudleigh, Howard of Glossop, Vaux of Harrowden, Willoughby
de Broke, Willoughby de Eresby, &c.; and as an instance of _idem
sonans_ in titles, we may mention the barony of Middleton and the
viscounty of Midleton, the respective holders of which are peers of the
realm, and pronounce their titles in the same way.
Some of the heraldic mottoes of our nobility are extremely peculiar. A
very blunt one is that of Byron, _Crede Byron_ (Believe a Byron). A few
of them have reference to the achievements for which the peerage was
originally conferred, or from which promotion therein was the result.
Thus, Baron Exmouth, upon whom a viscounty was conferred after the
bombardment of Algiers in 1816, placed his family motto over his crest,
and the word ‘Algiers’ under his shield. In the same way the celebrated
Field-marshal Viscount Gough had the words ‘China,’ ‘Barrosa,’ and
‘Goojerat’ painted on his armorial bearings, also the Irish words
_Faugh a Ballagh_—that is, clear the way, which is the war-cry of the
regiment known as the Connaught Rangers. Again, Lord Radstock’s motto
is ‘St Vincent,’ commemorating a naval exploit of the first peer, who
was a son of the third Earl Waldegrave, which, however, took place off
Cape Lagos in 1797. The motto of the hero John Jervis, who destroyed
the Spanish fleet off Cape St Vincent in 1797, and who was raised to
the peerage as Earl St Vincent, was the strange-looking word ‘Thus,’
and it is still borne by the representative of the Jervis family,
who, however, is only Viscount St Vincent. ‘Thus’ is a nautical term
of command which, shortly explained, signifies an order to keep the
ship’s head in the direction in which she is proceeding. The motto of
Earl Fortescue, _Forte scutum salus ducum_ (that is, A strong shield
is the safeguard of the leaders), is noteworthy. According to Sir B.
Burke, the ancestor of the Fortescues was one Sir Richard le Fort,
who protected the Conqueror at the battle of Hastings by his shield.
_Escue_ being the Norman word for shield, it was added to _Fort_, and
thus produced the name and the title of Fortescue. The above motto is
also that of the Fortescues Lords Clermont, who are kinsmen of the
others. Two ennobled barristers chose mottoes associated with their
professional pursuits, Pratt, Marquis Camden, having taken _Judicium
parium, aut lex terræ_ (that is, The judgment of our peers, or the law
of the land); while the renowned advocate Thomas, Lord Erskine, adopted
the phrase _Trial by Jury_. This nobleman was the son of the fifth Earl
of Buchan, whose family motto is _Judge nought_; and there is some
singularity about the abandonment of this motto for that of _Trial by
Jury_. There are two mottoes of an extremely suggestive character—that
of Earl Howe (_Let Curzon hold what Curzon held_), and that of the
Marquis Conyngham (_Over Fork over!_). The history of the latter
family will show that the spirit of this phrase, taken in its vulgar
acceptation, has not been disregarded by them. In some of the mottoes
we discover a play of words—a fanciful conceit, as it would have once
been termed. Thus, the Earls of Onslow use the well-known proverb,
_Festine lente_, or ‘Hasten slowly,’ which evidently has reference to
the present form of their name, On-slow, which, however, was originally
Ondeslow. Then, again, Earl Manvers’ is _Pie repone te_ (Repose with
pious confidence). If the position of the letters in the Latin words be
changed, we have _Piereponete_; and ‘Pierrepont’ is the family name of
the above nobleman. The motto of the Earls of Wemyss, _This our Charter
is_, contains their name of Charteris. So also does that of the Roches,
Lords Fermoy, _Mon Dieu est ma roche_; and the motto of the Earls of
Sandwich, _Post tot naufragia portum_ (After so many shipwrecks, we
arrive at port). Then, again, the Duke of Devonshire, and Lords Chesham
and Waterpark, all of the Cavendish family, have for their motto
_Cavendo tutus_ (Safe by being cautious), evidently a _jeu de mots_, a
hazy sort of play on the name of the title.
In a previous paragraph, we alluded to the Sussex Peerage Case. This
was a very painful curiosity indeed of the peerage. The Duke of Sussex,
sixth son of George III., had married, in 1793, Lady Augusta Murray,
daughter of the Earl of Dunmore. The marriage ceremony was twice
performed—first at Rome, and next at St George’s, Hanover Square, and
the union was one of affection on both sides. Two children were born of
it—a son and a daughter, the former having been Colonel Sir Augustus
F. D’Este, and the latter, Mademoiselle D’Este, who became the second
wife of Serjeant Wilde, afterwards Lord Chancellor Truro. That lady
died in 1855 without issue, and the present Lord Truro is accordingly
descended from the first wife. On the death of the Duke of Sussex in
1843, Sir A. D’Este claimed the Dukedom of Sussex; but the Prerogative
Court of Canterbury, the then forum of matrimonial causes, held the
marriage of his parents to have been null and void, as contrary to the
provisions of the Royal Marriage Act (12 Geo. III. c. 11). Sir Augustus
D’Este died in 1849; and this lamentable story in its legal aspect may
be read in the second volume of Clark and Finnelly’s _House of Lords’
Reports_. The Sussex Peerage Case, beyond its painful interest, is of
importance to lawyers, several rules of the law of evidence having
been fixed by it. The same may be said of some other peerage cases, as
those of Banbury and Shrewsbury. And we may also mention that one which
probably stands without a parallel in the records of scandalous family
history, the celebrated Berkeley Peerage Case, a veritable curiosity,
not of the peerage only, but of human life generally, being, in fact,
an agglomeration of frauds, perjuries, and immoral proceedings, all
surrounded by an atmosphere of the most repulsive vulgarity. We gladly
pass it by. Indeed, it ought, except for illustrative purposes, to be
let severely alone.
We have spoken in a previous paragraph of ‘premier peerages;’ and
perhaps a few words are necessary on this subject.
The premier peerages of the realm are as follows:
_England_—Duke of Norfolk, 1483; Marquis of Winchester, 1551; Earl
Shrewsbury, 1442; Viscount Hereford, 1550; Baron Le Despencer, 1264.
_Scotland_—Duke of Hamilton, 1643; Marquis of Huntly, 1559; Earl
Crawford, 1398; Viscount Falkland, 1620; Baron Forbes, 1442 (?).
_Ireland_—Duke of Leinster, 1766, who is also premier Marquis and Earl
of Ireland; Viscount Gormanston, 1478; Baron Kingsale, 1181.
Of all these, Kingsale is the oldest existing title, but, as already
intimated, Lord Kingsale has no seat in the House of Lords. The barony
(by writ) of Le Despencer is the oldest in England, but is at present
held by a lady, who is the wife of Viscount Falmouth, whose son is
therefore heir to both titles. The oldest title borne by a member of
the House of Lords under which he sits and votes is that of De Ros,
this barony having been created 1264, but after that of Le Despencer.
Earls, Viscounts, Barons, and Baronesses are entitled to be styled
‘Right Honourable;’ a Marquis is ‘Most Honourable,’ or ‘Most Noble and
Puissant Prince;’ a Duke is ‘Most Noble,’ or ‘Most High, Potent, and
Noble Prince.’ All peers except barons are by the etiquette of heraldry
regarded and styled as cousins of the sovereign. Thus, a Viscount or
an Earl is addressed as, ‘Our right trusty and well-beloved Cousin;’ a
Marquis as, ‘Our right trusty and entirely beloved Cousin;’ and a Duke
as, ‘Our right trusty and right entirely beloved Cousin.’
FOOTNOTES:
[1] We not unfrequently hear persons speaking of the House of Commons
as though that assembly alone constituted the parliament of these
realms. It should be borne in mind that parliament consists of the
sovereign and both Houses of legislature.
[2] The union of the _crowns_ of England and Scotland by the accession
of James VI. of that country to the English throne as James I. in 1603,
must not be confounded with the union of the two _kingdoms_ themselves,
one hundred and four years afterwards.
[3] In heraldry, the terms dexter and sinister are used for right and
left; and the right of a shield is that which is on the left of the
person looking at it, and _vice versâ_.
A ZULU ROMANCE.
As a rule, the course of true love runs smoother in Kaffir-land than
in more civilised countries. The reason for this is not far to seek.
In Europe, the business of matrimony is complicated by its being
associated with the impulses of the heart; but amongst our Ethiopian
brethren the emotional has but little place or power. The whole affair
is simply arranged by the father of the girl. Eight or ten oxen are
handed over to the dusky Paterfamilias by the eligible suitor, who in
exchange receives the damsel—blushing, no doubt, if one could perceive
it beneath the dark skin. In rare instances, it may be a case of mutual
affection; and in the true story which I am about to relate, affairs
went ‘clean off the track’ in a quite phenomenal fashion. A good deal
of this romantic drama, which took place in and about Maritzburg,
the capital of Natal, came under the immediate notice of my wife and
myself, while the rest of it was told us by one or other of the chief
actors.
It was towards the close of a summer afternoon. The day had been more
than usually hot, but a slight curtain of cloud was now pleasantly
veiling the sun. Our house was situated on a gently rising ground on
the outskirts of the town—a comfortable one-storied cottage, surrounded
by a deep veranda, and standing a short distance back from the road.
There would have been sultry stillness, but for the chirp and whir of
insects, the too frequent ‘ping’ of the mosquito as it hovered around
one’s ear, the ‘clunk-clunk’ of the frogs in a neighbouring streamlet,
and the sonorous voice of our Kaffir ‘boy’ chanting some barbarous
lay in one of the outhouses. Occasionally a creaking, full-laden
bullock-wagon would toil past, drawn by a span of twelve or fourteen
patient oxen, and overhung by a cloud of red dust, stirred up from the
broad, rut-lined, arid highway. Anon, a buggy would dash jolting along,
to the imminent danger of family groups of itinerant Kaffirs, who
would, with a loud ‘Wow!’ jump aside; and once in a while a solitary
horseman, booted and spurred, would be seen galloping to or from the
town.
I was lying in a swing-hammock suspended in the veranda, smoking a
cigar, and fitfully reading that day’s paper. Now and again, my eye
mechanically rested on the road, watching the several wayfarers.
Presently my attention was more particularly drawn to a young Zulu
woman, who had opened our front gate, and was slowly walking up the
path leading to our house. She was probably about seventeen years of
age, though, to one unacquainted with Kaffir physique, she might have
seemed at least twenty-one, and moved with the erect and graceful
carriage characteristic of the race. Her dress consisted of what may
be best described as a canvas tunic, which had originally been a sack,
but round the arm-holes and short skirt was a border of many-coloured
beads. Upon her shapely arms were brass rings and circlets of beads,
while similar ornaments graced her calf and ankle. Her hair had been
combed up, stiffened with red clay, and tied into a bunch—a toilet
significant of her status as a married woman, the Kaffir virgin usually
rejoicing merely in her primitive ‘wool.’
The young woman’s steps were directed to the back of our premises,
where she disappeared. What could she be after? The next moment I said
to myself that she must be one of our ‘boy’s’ relations. The kinship of
one’s Kaffir boy, be it here remarked, is invariably very extensive;
and unless you exercise some strictness, your rearmost premises are
very apt to be invaded by his parents, his brothers, ‘his sisters and
his cousins and his aunts,’ not to speak of his uncles and vaguely
remote relatives. Our boy, Capelle by name, had been told that we were
not to be annoyed by frequent visits from his friends; and as that day
he had already welcomed and hospitably fed—with _our_ maize-meal—about
half-a-dozen of his acquaintances, I somewhat resented the coming of
this youthful matron.
It was in my mind to jump out of the hammock and remonstrate with our
domestic, when I heard stealthy footsteps in the veranda. The next
moment Capelle stood before me, asking permission, as far as I could
make out, for his sister to remain overnight. My wife now appeared,
telling me that Capelle and the young woman had been having high words
in the Kaffir-house. Thereupon I questioned him as to the cause of
the quarrel. ‘Baas’ (Master), he began; and then delivered a fluent
discourse in his native tongue, doubtless full of information, but
almost wholly unintelligible to me, until my wife acted as interpreter.
My better-half, having to scold and direct the boy, had in about
two years’ time mastered the colloquial Kaffir generally spoken in
Maritzburg kitchens. Out of the facts extracted from Capelle and his
sister by cross-examination, the following interesting narrative was
evolved.
Some six months previous, this young woman, whose name was ’Manthla,
had plighted her troth to one Umhlassu, who was now working as a porter
at an ironmonger’s in Maritzburg, and was rapidly saving up the money
to buy the necessary cattle wherewith to purchase her from her papa.
He had now eight oxen, only two short of the number required, and had
secured a hut for her reception. For her part, ’Manthla had given
Umhlassu a pair of earrings, a necklace, a snuff-box, bead ornaments
for the head, and other gifts such as Kaffir maidens present to their
lovers. Unfortunately, another wooer had come to her father, offering
twelve bullocks for ’Manthla; and the parent, very naturally—for such
doings are not unknown even in Mayfair—favoured the wealthier suitor.
The oxen were accepted there and then, without the daughter being
consulted in the matter. As a rule, the reception of the live-stock by
the father is an important point in the marriage-service of the Zulus.
The next step is the arranging of the wedding-feast, at which there
generally is dancing for two or three days, as well as the consumption
of one of the oxen which form part of the ‘marriage-settlement,’ not to
mention the drinking galore of native beer.
’Manthla had steadily declined to take any part in the proceedings,
though she had been in the charge of the matrons of the kraal, who had
dressed her hair in the manner already described. With still greater
persistence, she refused to accompany Indebbelish, her would-be lord
and master, to his kraal, even going the length of producing a knife
and protesting she would take away her life, rather than become his
bride. Her father threatened to beat her with a stick; all her friends
upbraided her; and finally, she was handed over to the old women, who
kept her a prisoner and all but starved her, to induce a better state
of mind. Her almost unheard-of defiance of ‘use and wont’ astonished
the marriage-party; but their amazement reached its climax when, in the
midst of the festivities, it was discovered that ’Manthla had seized a
favourable opportunity to escape. She had travelled on foot fifty miles
into Maritzburg, and it was at the close of that journey that I had
seen her from our veranda.
When ’Manthla had greeted her brother and told him the whole story,
he was of course highly indignant at her disregard of tribal custom.
He rated her in good sound terms, jeered at her, and treated her to
a variety of ill-favoured epithets, in which the Zulu vocabulary is
unusually rich. It was the sound of this fraternal reproof which my
wife had heard. There was really nothing for it but to give shelter
to the fugitive for at least one night. It would scarcely have been
humane to have turned ’Manthla adrift, tired and hungry as she was;
and accordingly the ‘pilgrim of love’ was allowed to take her fill of
porridge and sleep on the kitchen floor.
Early next morning, as I was mounting my cob at the stable-door,
preparatory to a ‘spin’ over the _veldt_ before breakfast, there
appeared an elderly Kaffir, who held up the forefinger of his right
hand and exclaimed ‘Inkosi!’—the native salutation of respect. This was
no less a personage than Pank, the father of ’Manthla and of our boy
Capelle. He was attired in a soldier’s old coat, and ragged trousers
that descended no farther than his knees. On his head was a battered
felt hat; while through the lobe of one ear was stuck a cigar, and
through the other a cylindrical ‘snuff-box.’ Though old Pank had come
in hot haste from the kraal all those fifty miles, and was presumably
in a state of great mental agitation, he sauntered into our back-yard
as carelessly as if he had only casually dropped in from next door. I
have noticed the same characteristic in several other Kaffirs. After
the afore-mentioned salutation, Pank’s lean face broadened into a grin,
and he vivaciously ejaculated two or three times: ‘It’s allee right,
allee right!’ This phrase, which proved to be the only English at
his command, was introduced with great frequency, and sometimes with
ludicrous effect. This optimist remark, however, was not upon his lips
when he caught sight of his daughter ’Manthla timidly peeping out from
the door of the Kaffir-house. His face darkened in expression, and
pouring forth a volley of reproaches, the ‘stern parient’ approached
her. I stood anxiously watching the interview, fearing lest violence
might be the outcome. But after Pank had uncorked the vial of his
wrath, it quickly evaporated, and in a short time he sat down on his
haunches, took the snuff-box from his ear and regaled himself with a
hearty pinch.
I rode off; and on my return, half an hour later, the old fellow was in
our kitchen, calmly consuming a large pot of porridge. It turned out
that he had ordered ’Manthla to be ready to accompany him at once to
the kraal of Indebbelish. Alas, however, for the ‘best-laid schemes!’
When the _babba_ (father) went into the Kaffir-house, he found ’Manthla
had again fled. His anger and disgust were now turned upon Capelle,
who vowed he had had no hand in her flight. The father retorted, the
son recriminated, and it was only by rushing out and brandishing my
riding-whip that order was restored. The old man suddenly grinned and
exclaimed: ‘Allee right, allee right!’ and then his eye catching sight
of a big iron pot which had fallen into disuse, he asked if we could
spare it. My wife sarcastically inquired if there was anything else he
would like; upon which Pank requested a bottle of castor-oil, for the
purpose of anointing his body when he reached home. This being given
him, the injured father strode away, with the big pot over his head
like a huge helmet, and we hoped we had seen the last of him. Not at
all! In five minutes or so the old rascal came back, begging Capelle’s
wages for the next three months. It is customary for the _babbas_
to collect the money due to their sons, but payment in advance was
altogether without precedent. Happily, by disbursing the wages due for
a month which had almost expired, we for a time got rid of the father
of our heroine.
It is time that we again followed her fortunes. When ’Manthla ran away
from our house, she betook herself to Umhlassu, who, true lover that he
was, forsook his work, packed up his blankets, and went off with his
bride to his own kraal. Feasting and dancing were again indulged in,
this time, however, by the bridegroom’s relatives. Hearing of this,
the unsuccessful Indebbelish indignantly demanded the cattle back from
’Manthla’s father; but this just request was point-blank refused.
Indebbelish saw he had no other alternative but to trudge into town to
institute an action for ‘breach of promise’ against Babba Pank. The
machinery of the native court in Maritzburg was in due course set in
motion, and the case appointed to come off in three weeks, a fact we
knew one evening by the advent of Indebbelish, who was about the most
handsome Kaffir we had ever seen. He came to have a chat with Capelle,
who had favoured his wooing in time past, and was still friendly. We
naturally objected to have our larder drawn upon alternately by the
plaintiff and defendant in the pending suit, and so declined to give
Indebbelish board and lodging. But he made up for this by calling night
after night and smoking Capelle’s tobacco.