At a recent meeting of the Royal Irish Academy in Dublin, Dr. Anster
exhibited a manuscript volume of 157 pages, which he declared to be the
identical "album filled with songs, recipes, prayers, and charms," found
in the Duke of Monmouth's pocket when he was seized. It was purchased at
a book-stall in Paris in 1827 by an Irish divinity student, was given by
him to a priest in the county of Kerry, and, on the priest's death,
became the property of the present possessor. Respecting in its identity
and history, from its removal from the rebel duke's pocket down to its
production at the Royal Irish Academy, Dr. Anster showed that after
Monmouth was beheaded--which he was on Tower Hill, by the too-celebrated
John Ketch, on the 15th July, 1685--the articles found on his person
were given to the king. At James's deposition, three years afterwards,
all his manuscripts, including those that had belonged to Monmouth, were
carried into France, where they remained till the Revolution in that
country a century afterwards. Dr. Anster, in exhibiting the book,
showed that the remains of silver clasps had been destroyed, and a part
of the leather of the covers at each side torn away, seemingly for the
purpose of removing some name on a coat of arms with which it had been
once marked; and this he accounted for by the belief that at the period
of the French Revolution the persons in whose custody they were, being
fearful of the suspicions likely to arise from their possession of books
with royal arms on them, tore off the covers, and sent the books to St.
Omer's. The after-fate of the larger books was, that they were burned;
some small ones, we are distinctly told, were saved from this fate, but
seem to have been disregarded, and all trace of them lost. The Abbé
Waters--a collateral descendant of Lucy Waters, the Duke of Monmouth's
mother--was the person with whom George IV. negotiated for the Stuart
papers, and from whom the volumes which have since appeared as Clark's
_Life of James the Second_ were obtained; and it is from the Abbé Waters
we have the account of the destruction of King James's autograph papers.
Dr. Anster showed, written on the inner cover of this volume, the words,
"Baron Watiers" or "Watrers."
As to the identity of the book, Dr. Anster quoted several passages from
contemporary authors to test their account of the contents of the
"album" with those of the book he was describing. In the _Harleian
Miscellany_, vol. vi. p.323., it is stated in Sir John Reresby's
memoirs, that "out of his [Monmouth's] pocket were taken books, in his
own handwriting, containing charms or spells to open the doors of a
prison, to obviate the danger of being wounded in battle, together with
songs and prayers." Barillon describes the book in what is nearly a
translation of this--"Il y avoit des secrets de magie et d'enchantment,
avec des chansons des recettes pour des maladies et des prieres." Again,
in a note by Lord Dartmouth to the modern editions of _Burnet's Own
Times_, we have the following statement:--
"My uncle Colonel William Legge, who went in the coach with him
[Monmouth] to London as a guard, with orders to stab him if there
were any disorders on the road, showed me several charms that were
tied about him when he was taken, and his table-book, which was
full of astrological figures that nobody could understand; but he
told my uncle that they had been given to him some years before in
Scotland, and he now found they were but foolish conceits."
The actual contents of the manuscript volume show a great resemblance to
these descriptions. The most curious passages which it contains are the
duke's memorandums of his journey on two visits to the Prince of Orange,
in the year previous to his last rash adventure. His movements up to the
14th of March, 1684-85, are given. The entries do not seem to be of much
moment; but they may accidentally confirm or disprove some disputed
points of history. There is an entry without a date, describing the
stages of a journey in England, commencing with London and Hampstead: it
ends with Toddington. This forms a strong link in the chain of identity;
for Toddington is a place remarkable in the history of the duke. Near it
was the residence of Lady Henrietta Maria Wentworth, baroness (in her
own right) of Nettlestead, only daughter and heir of Thomas Lord
Wentworth, grandchild and heir of the Earl of Cleveland. Five years
before the execution, her mother observed that, despite the duke being a
married man, her daughter had, while at court, attracted his admiration,
and she hurried her away to Toddington. In 1683, after the failure of
the Rye-House Plot, Monmouth was banished from the royal presence, and
it was to Toddington he retired. When, on retracting the confession he
had made on the occasion, he was banished the kingdom, the companion of
his exile was Lady Henrietta Wentworth.
"I dwell on this," said Dr. Anster, "because the accidental mention of
Toddington seems to authenticate the book: the name of Lady Henrietta
Wentworth does not occur in it, and the persons in whose hands the book
has been since it was purchased in Paris do not seem to have noticed the
name of Toddington, or to have known that it had any peculiar relation
to the duke's history. It occurs twice in the book--once in the
itinerary, and again in a trifling and unmetrical song, which is
probably the duke's own composition; written probably on the eve of his
flight with his romantic but guilty companion to Holland:--
"'With joy we leave thee,
False world, and do forgive
All thy false treachery.
For now we'll happy live.
We'll to our bowers,
And there spend our hours;
Happy there we'll be,
We no strifes can see;
No quarrelling for crowns,
Nor fear the great one's frowns;
Nor slavery of state,
Nor changes in our fate.
From plots this place is free,
There we'll ever be;
We'll sit and bless our stars
That from the noise of wars
Did this glorious place give
(Or did us Toddington give)
That thus we happy live.'"
In Macaulay's history we find that the latest act of the duke on the
scaffold, before submitting to the stroke of the executioner, was to
call his servant, and put into the man's hand a toothpick-case, the last
token of ill-starred love. "Give it," he said, "_to that person!_" After
the description of Monmouth's burial occurs the following affecting
passage:--
"Yet a few months and the quiet village of Toddington, in
Bedfordshire, witnessed a yet sadder funeral. Near that village
stood an ancient and stately hall, the seat of the Wentworths. The
transept of the parish church had long been their burial-place. To
that burial-place, in the spring which followed the death of
Monmouth, was borne the coffin of the young Baroness Wentworth of
Nettlestead. Her family reared a sumptuous mausoleum over her
remains; but a less costly memorial of her was long contemplated
with far deeper interest: her name, carved by the hand of him she
loved too well, was, a few years ago, still discernible on a tree
in the adjoining park."
In further proof of identity, Dr. Anster pointed out several charms and
recipes which the manuscript volume contains. The conjurations are in
general for the purpose of learning the results of sickness in any
particular case, and of determining whether friends will be in certain
circumstances faithful. There are also incantations for the use of
several maladies, and one to make gray hair grow black. No "charms
against being wounded in battle," such are Sir John Reresby mentions,
are to be found in the volume; but there are some prayers against
violent death, which have the appearance of having been transcribed from
some devotional book. There is evidently a mistake in supposing that
this book contains any charm for breaking open prison doors, and it is
likely that Sir John Reresby was misled in this way:--There is in p. 7.
a charm in French to procure repose of body and mind, and deliverance
from pains; and the word for "pains" is written in a contracted form; it
might as well stand for prisons; but, examining the context, it is
plainly the former word which is meant.
The rest of the entries consist of extracts from old recipe-books, mixed
in the oddest way with abridgements of English history, and the most
trifling memorandums, chiefly of a private and personal kind.
Altogether, this commonplace work is highly indicative of the weakness,
vanity, and superstition which stood forward so prominently in the
character of the rash but unfortunate Duke of Monmouth.
* * * * *