General Monk:

(In Armour, with a Plain Falling Collar.)

Born, 1599. Died, 1658—The only surviving son of Robert Cromwell, by Elizabeth Stewart: born in Huntingdon, named after his uncle, Sir Oliver Cromwell, of Hinchingbrook, where he passed many of his earlier days. Numerous stories are told, (some ridiculed, some generally believed,) of Oliver’s infancy, andboyhood. It is said that on one occasion he was snatched from his cradle by a monkey, who jumping out of the window, scampered over the roof of Hinchingbrook, to the consternation of the family, who stood watching the beast, with great anxiety. Whether or not the monkey felt, that he bore in his arms the future ruler of England, the chronicler does not affirm, but he goes on to relate, that the fears of the relatives were soon appeased by seeing the baby safely restored to his cradle, by the conscientious ape! Another incident connected with Hinchingbrook was more currently believed, viz., that Charles I., when a boy, visited Sir Oliver, on his road from Scotland to London. The good knight sent for his nephew to help him entertain the Prince, which he did by disputing violently with his Royal Highness: a quarrel ensued, and Oliver, being the strongest of the two, caused Charles’s blood to flow, an ominous presage of after times. We do not know how Sir Oliver visited his nephew’s outbreak, but he was a staunch cavalier, and supported the Royalists till his death.

Oliver, when a school-boy, was wilful, andwayward, and fond of wild and sometimes coarse jests. One Christmas night, the revels at Hinchingbrook were interrupted by some unseemly pranks of his conceiving, which called down upon him, a sentence from the Master of Misrule that Sir Oliver ordered into immediate execution, viz., that the young recreant should be subjected then, and there, to a severe ducking in one of the adjoining fishponds. When still a school-boy, another anecdote is told of Oliver; that on awaking from a short sleep, one hot day, he electrified his schoolfellows with the description of a dream, he had had. How a woman of gigantic stature had appeared at the side of his bed, and slowly undrawing the curtains, had announced to him that some day, he would be the greatest man in England—the word “King” did not however pass her lips. The young visionary was rewarded for this lie, (as it was considered) by a severe flogging. A better authenticated story is told of his rescue from drowning, by one Johnson, a citizen of Huntingdon, of whom General Cromwell enquired (when in after years, he marched through his native town, with the army) if heremembered the circumstance: “Yes,” was the indignant reply, “and I wish to my heart I had let you drown, rather than to see you in arms, against your King.”

At the age of seventeen, Oliver Cromwell left the Grammar School, at Huntingdon, and entered Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge. Both as a school-boy and a collegian he distinguished himself more in athletic sports, than in application to study, and he appears to have led a wild irregular life, according to his own admission, for it is difficult to sift the truth, from the preposterous flattery on the one hand, and the unqualified abuse on the other, which characterise Cromwell’s biographers, according to their political opinions. In recording his own conversion, at the age of twenty years, he says: “Before which time, I hated holiness, and the Word of God.” His mother sent him to study at Lincoln’s Inn, “where,” says Carrington, “he associated with those of the best rank, and quality, and the most ingenious persons, for though not averse to study and contemplation, he seemed rather addicted to conversation, and the reading of men’s characters, than to a continualporing over authors.” On completing his twenty-first year, he married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir James Bourchier, of Felsted, in Essex, a kinswoman of Hampden’s, who brought him a modest dowry, which she nobly relinquished with the additional money he had settled on her for life, to rescue her husband from pecuniary difficulties in after years; a woman of irreproachable life, and unobtrusive manners, who tolerated rather than coveted grandeur, and distinction, an excellent housewife, and a loving help-mate. The newly married pair fixed their residence in Huntingdon, where his mother still lived, and where several children were born to them.

Cromwell now turned his mind to those studies, and pursuits which paved his way to future greatness. He made his house the refuge for the “disaffected,” or the “persecuted” Nonconformist Ministers; he encouraged them in their opposition, prayed, preached, built a chapel for them, supported them on all occasions, and became so popular, that the chief of his fellow townsmen offered to return him for the Borough, in the next Parliament that was summoned. In1625 he failed—in 1628 he was returned as member for Huntingdon, when his cousin Hampden also took his seat. Dr. South describes Oliver’s appearance on this occasion, in a manner that caused the Merry Monarch to observe: “Oddsfish! that chaplain must be a Bishop; put me in mind of him, next vacancy.” “Who that beheld such a bankrupt, beggarly fellow, as Cromwell, first entering the Parliament House, with a torn, thread-bare coat, and greasy hat (perhaps neither of them paid for) would have believed that in a few years.” ... &c.?

After the dissolution of this Parliament, where Hampden, Cromwell, and Pym bore bold testimony to their political, and religious faith, Oliver returned to Huntingdon, and afterwards flitted to a small farm, near St. Ives, with his wife and family. Hume says the long morning and afternoon prayers he made, consumed his own time, and that of his ploughmen, and he had little leisure for temporal affairs. A property in, and near Ely, left him by his maternal uncle, determined him to settle in that city, in 1636. In 1640 he was returned for Cambridge, by the majority of a single vote. From this momentthe history of Cromwell is the history of England, and his acts and all that he did, are written in the chronicles of Clarendon, Hume, and other historians, whose name is Legion. From that time, whether in Parliament, or the field, he was in arms against the King, whose execution took place on the 30th of January, 1649. But the inscription over the bed on which the Protector lay in state, will assist the memory as to dates.

Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector, etc., born at Huntingdon, was educated in Cambridge, afterwards at Lincoln’s Inn. At the beginning of the wars, captain of a troop of horse raised at his own charge. By the Parliament made Commander-in-Chief, he reduced Ireland and South Wales, overthrew Duke Hamilton’s army, and the Kirk’s at Dunbar, reduced all Scotland, and defeated Charles Stuart’s army, at Worcester. He was proclaimed Protector in 1654, and while refusing the title of King, sate on a Chair of State, the only one covered, in that vast assembly, and drove back to his Palace at Whitehall, with more than regal pomp. Thither, keeping up great state, he removed hisaged mother, whose remaining days were embittered by alarm, for her son’s safety, his favourite daughter, Mrs. Claypole, from whom he would scarcely ever separate, the gentle and handsome likeness of himself, Mary, etc.

Hard, cruel, and uncompromising in public life, Oliver was tender, and loving in his domestic relations. He lost two sons, Robert, who died in childhood, Oliver, who fell in battle, a great favourite with his father, who in his last moments alluded to the young soldier’s death, “which went as a dagger to my heart, indeed it did.” His other children were, Richard, his successor for a short time only; Henry, Lord Deputy of Ireland; Bridget, married first, to General Ireton, and secondly, to Lieutenant-General Fleetwood; Elizabeth, married to Mr. Claypole, his favourite daughter, whose death was supposed to have hastened her father’s; Mary married to Viscount Fauconberg; and Frances married to the Hon. Robert Rich.

It is almost too well known, to be worthy of writing down, how Cromwell’s last days were embittered by suspicion, and distrust of allaround him, and constant fear of assassination. He died, however, after fourteen days sickness, of ague, “peaceably in his bed,” on his “fortunate day,” September the Third, the anniversary of the victories of Worcester, and Dunbar, in a storm so tremendous, and so universal, that it reached the coasts of the Mediterranean. The funeral was conducted with more than regal pomp, and splendour, but on the accession of Charles II., the Protector’s body was dug up, and hung upon the “Traitor’s Tree.”

By WALKER.

Half-Length: Oval.

(In Armour. Long Hair. White Cravat, tied with large Bow, and Black Ribbon.)

Born, 1608. Died, 1670. A younger son of Thomas Monk, of Potheridge, Devon. When only seventeen, in consequence of a domesticquarrel, where (says theBiographie Universelle) “par excès d’amour filial, il maltraita le sous-sheriff d’Exeter,” he went to sea, and afterwards served under the Duke of Buckingham. In 1629, he entered one of the English regiments in Holland, where he studied the art of war, with great diligence, and was remarkable for his steadiness, and for the discipline, he maintained among the soldiers, treating them at the same time with great kindness. In 1639, he returned to England. When Charles I., was embarked in that unfortunate war with Scotland, which was the forerunner of terrible disasters, Monk, as Lieutenant-Colonel of artillery, displayed much skill, and courage, though both proved useless; and he then went to Ireland on promotion. Here he did considerable service, was made Governor of Dublin, but Parliament intervening, he was superseded in the office, and on the conclusion of a truce (by the King’s commands) with the Irish rebels, he returned to England. On his arrival he found that doubts of his fidelity had been instilled into Charles’s mind; but joining that monarch at Oxford, he soon dispelled them, waspromoted to the rank of Major-General, and sent to relieve Sandwich, where he was taken prisoner, and thence committed to the Tower by the Roundheads.

His captivity lasted two years, during which time he rejected all overtures, made him by the Protector, and occupied his leisure hours in noting down his observations on military, and political subjects. Cromwell entertained a high opinion of Monk as a soldier, and he offered him the alternative of prolonged imprisonment, or a command in the Parliamentary army, to march against O’Neill, the Irish rebel. Monk accepted the latter, and behaved in this expedition with his usual courage, and determination; but he was ill-supported by the Government at home, who, as we are told, “had too many irons in the fire,” to attend to the Irish war. He was reluctantly compelled to sign a treaty with O’Neill, for which proceeding he was called to account, on his return to England. But the Protector considered his services necessary, and despatched him in command to Scotland, where he again saw much service. Yet in Oliver’s mind therelurked suspicions of Monk’s fidelity; and not long before his death, he wrote to the General saying: “There be that tell me, there is a certain cunning fellow in Scotland, called George Monk, who is said to lie in wait there, to introduce Charles Stuart; I pray you use your diligence to apprehend him, and send him up to me.”

Monk’s proceedings from this time, form part of history, and the share he took in the restoration of Charles II., is too well known to be repeated here. Charles called him his father, invested him with the Order of the Garter, created him Duke of Albemarle, Earl of Torrington, and Baron Monk, and appointed him Lieutenant-General of the Forces of the United Kingdom, with a large income.

In 1653, he married (or acknowledged his marriage with) Anne, daughter of John Clargis, who had long resided under his roof: “A lady,” says Guizot, “whose manners were more vulgar, and less simple, than those of her husband, and who was the laughing-stock, of a witty and satirical court.”

The French historian speaks disparagingly ofthe great general, but in the time of the Plague, when the court, and ministers left London, the Duke remained to watch over the necessities of the wretched inhabitants, to save families from pillage, and to alleviate the sufferings of the poor.

He was afloat in joint command of the fleet with Prince Rupert, when the Great Fire occurred, and the general cry was: “Ah, if old George had been here, this would not have happened.” He died in his sixty-second year, leaving an enormous fortune to his spendthrift son Christopher, (who died without children), and was buried in Westminster Abbey with great splendour, Charles II. attending his obsequies.

Guizot says: “C’étoit un homme capable de grandes choses, quoiqu’il n’eût pas de grandeur dans l’âme.” His jealousy of his noble colleague Lord Sandwich, bears out the French historian’s Opinion, in some measure.

In his last illness, he was much occupied with arranging the alliance of his surviving son, Christopher, (the death of the elder had been a terrible blow to him) with the heiress of the wealthy Duke of Newcastle. The nuptialswere celebrated in his own chamber, and a few days afterwards, George Monk, Duke of Albemarle, expired in his arm-chair, without a groan.

By SIR PETER LELY.

Full-Length.

(Standing by a Table, on which are his Helmet and Staff.)

Born, 1630. Died, 1685.—He was the second surviving son of Charles I., by Henrietta Maria of France, born at St. James’s Palace, on the 29th of May. When only twelve years old was appointed to the command of a troop of horse, his father’s Body Guard at York, and sent with the title of General, to serve in the Royal army when fifteen. After the defeat of Naseby, he went to Scilly, then to Jersey, and in 1646 joined his mother, at Paris. He was at the Hague, when the news of his father’s death reached him, and he immediately assumed thetitle of King. In 1649, he was proclaimed King at Edinburgh. He left Holland, returned to Paris, and thence again to Jersey, where he received a deputation from Scotland, and accepted the Crown offered him by the Presbyterians, under such humiliating conditions, as disgusted him with that sect, for the rest of his life. In 1650, he arrived in Scotland, being compelled to take the Covenant before he landed; was crowned at Scone on New Year’s Day, 1651; but marched south, on hearing of the advance of Cromwell, and was proclaimed King at Carlisle. Defeated by Cromwell, at the Battle of Worcester, Charles had a narrow escape, with all the well known incidents of the hiding place in Boscobel Oak, etc. He embarked from Shoreham for Normandy, thence to Paris, Bruges, Brussels. In the latter city he heard of the Protector’s death; then, when at Calais and Breda, he kept up constant communication, not only with General Monk, and his own acknowledged partisans, but he also sent addresses to both Houses of Parliament. On the 1st, of May 1660, they voted his restoration; on the 8th, he was proclaimed in London;on the 23rd, he embarked from the Hague; and on the 29th, his thirtieth birthday, he made his public entry into London, amidst the enthusiastic acclamations of the people. In 1662, he married Catherine of Braganza, daughter of John IV., King of Portugal, and died at Whitehall, in the twenty-fifth year of his reign. Some say he confessed himself a Roman Catholic; some that he was a victim to poison. It was his brother’s wish to prove the former statement, and several of his contemporaries, including the Duke of Buckingham, believed the latter. The last named nobleman gives apparently an impartial character of the “Merry Monarch,” who was remarkable for contradictions, and inconsistencies, even above the average, in an inconsistent world. Buckingham says: “His very countenance set all rules of physiognomy at defiance, for being of a cheerful and compassionate disposition, his expression was melancholy, and repelling. He had a wonderful facility in comprehending trifles, but had too little application to master great matters. Generous, extravagant, lavish in the extreme, he had a reluctance topart with small sums, and it was often remarked that he grudged losing five pounds at tennis to the very people on whom at other times he would bestow five thousand. Gentle and yielding in trifles, he was inflexible in important matters. Profligate in the extreme, weak and capricious, he was,” says the same witness, “a civil and obliging husband, a kind master, an indulgent father, and an affectionate [and he might have added, forbearing] brother. Hating the formalities of royalty, he was ready to assert his dignity, when it was necessary to do so. So agreeably did he tell a story, that his hearers never cavilled at its repetition, not through civility, but from the desire to hear it again, as is the case with a clever comedy.”

So far the Duke of Buckingham. We know what his boon companion Rochester, wrote of him, in a provisional epitaph; perhaps one of the only sallies proceeding from his favourite, that “Old Rowley” did not relish:

“Here lies our Sovereign lord the King,Whose word no man relies on:Who never said a foolish thing,And never did a wise one.”

“Here lies our Sovereign lord the King,

Whose word no man relies on:

Who never said a foolish thing,

And never did a wise one.”

Also Andrew Marvell’s satire:

“Of stature tall and sable hue,Much like the son of Kish, that lofty Jew;Ten years of need, he lingered in exile,And fed his father’s asses, all the while.”

“Of stature tall and sable hue,

Much like the son of Kish, that lofty Jew;

Ten years of need, he lingered in exile,

And fed his father’s asses, all the while.”

Aged Four Years.

By SEBASTIAN HERRERA.

Full-Length.

(Long flowing Light Hair. Red Coat, trimmed with Silver. Lace Ruffles. Holding a Truncheon in one Hand, and his Hat in the other. Above him an Eagle, with extended Wings, bearing a Sword. An Angel hovering over the King, holding the Spanish Crown.)

Born, 1661. Died, 1700. Eldest surviving son of Philip IV., by Mariana, of Austria. Succeeded his father, when four years of age. His first wife was Marie Louise, daughter of Philip, Duke of Orleans, by Henrietta Maria of England. Transplanted from the brilliant Courtof France, to the stiff formality of Spain, and the Spaniards, at a time when the jealousy of France was so great, that the Mistress of the Robes was said to have wrung her parrots’ necks for speaking French, Marie Louise, the wife of a half idiot King, bore herself wisely and bravely, and during the few short years of her reign, gained an influence for good, over her husband, who loved her dearly. But the mirror which broke to pieces in her fair hands, on the day of her arrival in Madrid, was but too true an omen. She died in the 27th year of her age, a victim to poison (as her mother had been before her), supposed to have been administered by the beautiful and infamous Olympia Mancini—at least this was the general belief. Her husband lamented her deeply; yet he re-married the next year, Anna Maria, daughter of Philip, Count Palatine, of Neuburg, a good-humoured, amiable Princess; but Charles remained indifferent to her, and so faithful was he to the memory of his first wife, that one of his last acts was to cause the tomb in which she was interred to be opened, while he hung in speechless sorrow, over the embalmed remains of the once beautiful Marie Louise;and when he looked upon her still comely features, he exclaimed, with tears, “I shall meet her soon in Heaven.”

“Charles II., of Spain,” says Sir William Stirling, “might well be called 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 thedistinguished 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.

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