Part 19

Portraits (counting each head in family groups) 508 Sacred Subjects 22 Historical 17 Shakespeare 11 Poetical and Fancy 134 Landscape 5 Supplementary and addenda (various) 63 ---- 760

He exhibited altogether 143 pictures at the Royal Academy.

[117] Writing to Southey, from Norwich, 3rd June, 1806, William Taylor says, 'Opie is soon to be knighted;' and in 1807 he says that Opie had been at the point of death from abdominal paralysis--probably caused by the absorption into his system of lead-vapours from his paints.

[118] Mrs. Gilbert says that her father got 250 guineas for engraving this picture.

[119] Opie painted a _replica_ of Mrs. Delany's portrait for the Countess of Bute, for which Horace Walpole designed a frame; and I confess these paintings appear to me to refute entirely the statement that Opie's female portraits were unsuccessful.

[120] Lonsdale the painter afterwards occupied it: it now forms part of an hotel.

[121] Betty Opie was a remarkably shrewd and sagacious old lady. She gave my father most entertaining accounts of her visit to London, when she went up to see 'Jan,' as she called her illustrious brother, and especially of an escapade of hers at the British Museum, where, having accidentally broken off the finger of a mummy, she brought it home to her brother, who ground it down into a fine brown paint.

[122] An old sweetheart of his, whose portrait he once painted in the act of milking a cow.

[123] When Opie was painting Charles James Fox's portrait, worried by many and various criticisms, Fox said, 'Don't attend to _them_; you _must_ know best.'

[124] In this year he contributed to the Exhibition six portraits, one of them being that of Dr. Samuel Parr.

[125] That on 'Design' was delivered on 16th Feb., 1807, the others followed on 23rd Feb., 2nd March, and 9th March.

[126] According to his sister's account, the _post-mortem_ examination disclosed 'a bladder on the brain'; but Dr. Sayer thought the patient's malady was a species of painter's colic.

[127] Another of his pupils was John Cawse, the well-known subject and portrait painter, of whose works the writer possesses an example. Theophilus Clarke, A.R.A., was another of Opie's pupils.

[128] I fancy, notwithstanding the thin disguise of the title of the poem, that Mrs. Opie must have been thinking of this portrait when she wrote the following lines:

'To me how dear this twilight hour, Cheered by the faggot's varying blaze! If this be mine, I ask no more On morn's refulgent light to gaze:

'For now, while on HIS glowing cheek I see the fire's red radiance fall, The darkest seat I softly seek, And gaze on HIM, unseen by all.

'His folded arms, his studious brow, His thoughtful eye, _unmarked_, I see; Nor could his voice or words bestow So dear, so true a joy on me.'

[129] When a lad, Opie used to say that he loved painting 'better than bread and meat.' Northcote was himself another of our West-country artists; he was born at Plymouth, close to the Cornish border.

[130] Opie also painted his first wife's portrait with that of the famous Conjuror Chamberlain. It was at one time in Sir Joshua Reynolds's Collection ('The lost Opie'), and afterwards passed into the hands of Sir Charles Bell.

_THE ST. AUBYNS OF CLOWANCE AND THE MOUNT._

_THE ST. AUBYNS OF CLOWANCE AND THE MOUNT._

'A Wit's a feather, and a Chief a rod;-- An HONEST MAN'S the noblest work of God.'

POPE: _Essay on Man_.

'This gentle and knightly family,' as Hals calls them, are amongst the few examples of eminent Cornishmen who, like the Bevills, the Grenvilles, the Lanyons, the Chamonds, the Bassets, and others, were of Norman, or at least of French, origin.

In the 'Chronicum Johannis Brompton' (quoted by John Henneker) we read:

'Vous que desyrez assaver Le nons de Grauntz de la mer, Que vindrent od le Conquerour, William Bastard de graunt vigoure,

* * * * *

Seint Aubyn, et Seynt Omer, Seynt Filbert Fyens, et Gomer.'

Leland says that St. Albin came out of Brittany; and Camden, in his 'Remains,' names Plaus as the place of their origin; according, however, to other authorities, St. Aubin du Cormier in Brittany enjoys this distinction. Of Armorican extraction, they were therefore akin to Cornishmen, though abiding in 'Little Britain.' Possibly the name was not an uncommon one; and either of the two above surmises may be correct. There are now upwards of thirty French Communes into which the name of St. Aubin enters: to say nothing of the picturesque little village in Jersey of that name, which fringes the shores of St. Aubin's Bay.

Their first English home seems to have been in Somersetshire; and here, in the middle of the fourteenth century, we find Guy de St. Aubyn, or Albin, settled at Alfoxton. It seems to have been he who, by his marriage with Eleanor Knoville, first obtained a footing on the Cornish soil; and, according to Tonkin, it was his grandson, Geffrey, who took up his abode at Clowance on the latter's marriage with Elizabeth Kymyell of Kymyell, the sole heir of Piers Kymyell and his wife, a daughter of--as Tonkin assures us, 'an old and notable Cornish family'--the house of Sergeaux, or Seriseaux. Their son Geffrey has a monument in Crowan church, thus inscribed:

'Hic jacent Galfridus Seynt aubyn, Et Alicia uxor ejus, filia et heres Johannes Tremure de Iaunebet, Armigeri, qui quidem Galfridus obiit tertio die mensis Octobris, Anno Domini, Mill'imo cccc^o; Alicia obiit Anno Domini Mill'imo cccc^o; quorum Animabus propicietur deus, Amen. Jhu mercy, lady help.'

Since the time of the first Geffrey, the St. Aubyns, for nearly thirty descents, have dwelt at their pleasantly situated seat[131] at Clowance, 'the ancient house of an ancient gentleman,' as Norden calls it; though the present mansion dates only from the early part of the present century.

From the days of Richard II., the St. Aubyns have frequently filled the post of High Sheriff of Cornwall, and have also served their country as Members of Parliament and Justices of the Peace. For several descents they have been Baronets, until at last the name of 'Sir John St. Aubyn, Bart., M.P.,' has become in Cornwall a 'household word.'

Of the earlier members of the family I have found little of interest, unless, indeed, it be the remarkable physique of one of them, Sir Mauger de St. Albin, who lived at Barnton; in Risdon's 'Devonshire,' it is stated that he was a man of enormous strength and stature, as is evidenced by a huge stone thrown by him to a great distance, and by his very large effigy on a tomb in the church.

On their settling in Cornwall, the St. Aubyns followed the accustomed (perhaps the almost inevitable) practice of intermarrying with the old county families--the Tremeres, the Trethurfes, the Trenowiths, the Grenvilles of Stow; and, in later times, with the Arundells, the Godolphins, the Pendarveses, the Killigrews, the Bullers, the Bassets, the Prideauxes, and the Molesworths.

Of the fruit of one of the pre-Reformation marriages--namely, that of Thomas St. Aubyn (who was Sheriff of Cornwall in 1545) with Mary, fourth daughter of Thomas Grenville of Stow, we have a touching little notice in the MSS. Lisle papers preserved at the Public Record Office. Thomas is writing to his sister-in-law, Honor Grenville, Viscountess Lisle; and the following passage occurs in his letter:

'My daughter Phelyp is departyd on Crstmas Day, Almyghtie (God) pardon her soule; and my wyffe hath take grette discōfort therbye; but, I thank our Lord, she doth take it better way, and thankyth god of his sending.'

From this marriage of Thomas St. Aubyn with Mary Grenville, descended his grandson, Thomas,--the St. Aubyn of Carew's days--of whom that historian of his native county wrote thus:

'Saintabin, whose very name (besides the Conquest roll) deduceth his first ancestors out of France. His grandfather married Greinvile; his father, one of Whittington's coheirs: which latter couple, in a long and peaceable date of years, exercised a kind, liberal, and never-discontinued hospitality. He himself took to wife the daughter of Mallet; and with ripe knowledge, and sound judgment, dischargeth the place which he beareth in his country.'

I find nothing further of general interest touching the family until we come to the stirring times of the Civil War--a conflict in which Cornwall took, as is well known, a distinguished part. Until that period the St. Aubyns seem to have been a thriving and distinguished family, serving their country in the various capacities already mentioned, and 'gathering house to house, and vineyard to vineyard.' Their possessions were in almost every part of the county: for instance, Lysons (who was indebted to the fifth Sir John St. Aubyn for the loan of Borlase's MS. folio of notes on Cornwall) says that, amongst other properties, 'The manor of Godolphin is still held of Sir John St. Aubyn, as of his manor of Lambourne, by the payment of a gammon of bacon;' and, that the manors of Berippa and Penpons were in the possession of the St. Aubyns; also a moiety of the manor of Gaverigan in St. Columb Major, the manor of Argallez or Arrallas in St. Enoder, of Trelowith in St. Erth, of half of Treninick in St. Gorran, Kimiel and Butsava in Paul, and Mayon in Sennen; they were also impropriators of the great tithes of Crowan, and patrons of the Vicarage; and they held a moiety of the advowson of the rectory of Duloe. The revenues of the nunnery of Clares, which formerly stood near the junction of Boscawen and Lemon Streets, Truro, came (according to Hals) into the possession of Sir John Seyntaubin and others; and again, the Priory of Tywardreath, so Davies Gilbert tells us, 'was the joint property of the St. Aubyns, and the Pendarveses of Roscrow.'

To return to the family at the time of the great struggle between the King and his Parliament. Most of the Cornish gentry sided, as is well known, with the King, and behaved with such marked valour and success as to elicit from Charles the well-known letter of thanks which still hangs in many of the churches in the county. One of the St. Aubyns of the day,[132] however, seems, according to Hals, to have thrown in his lot with the Parliament; he was at the siege of Plymouth, in 1644; and was present at the defeat of his party at the battle of Braddock Down, near Lostwithiel.

Hals tells us that, after the rout of the Roundheads, 'it was resolved by Essex's council that he should desert his army, and, privately by night, in a boat, go down the river to Fowey, and from thence take ship for Plymouth; which expedient was accordingly put in execution, and the General Essex, the Lord Robartes, and some others, the next day got into Plymouth, being the 31st August, 1644. On the same day Sir William Balfour, with two thousand five hundred of the Parliament horse, with divers officers, viz., Colonel Nicholas Boscawen, his Lieutenant Colonel James Hals, of Merther, Henry Courtenay, of St. Bennet's in Lanyvet, _Colonel John Seyntaubyn, of Clowans_, and his Lieutenant Colonel Braddon, Colonel Carter, and several other officers and gentlemen of quality, early in the morning forced their passage over St. Winnow, Boconnock, and Braddock Downs, though the body of the King's army, which lay encamped on the heath in those places, maugre all opposition to the contrary; from thence they rode to Leskeard, from thence to Saltash Passage, and from thence to Plymouth safely the same day, amidst their own garrison and confederates.'

Whether from conviction, or from a wish to be well with either party in the State--whichever might succeed--it seems pretty clear that another member of the family, Thomas, espoused the cause of the Royalists. His monument in Crowan Church so describes him; and in the spring of 1882 I saw, on the walls of the principal staircase at Clowance, his portrait--hard, but apparently faithful--in Cavalier costume.

Of the second baronet I find nothing to note, except that he was Sheriff of Cornwall in 1705.

But the third[133] Sir John St. Aubyn, the sturdy little Cornish baronet--of whom Walpole said, 'all these men (his opponents in Parliament) have their price except him'--claims more of our attention than, perhaps, any other member of the family. He was born on 27th September, 1696, and we get a glimpse of his early life, when at Exeter College, Oxford, in the following extract from a letter written by his friend and fellow-collegian, Borlase, in 1772, to a lady in London. The MS. is amongst that collection at Castle Horneck, which formed the subject of an interesting article[134] in the _Quarterly Review_, vol. 139; and the following extract describes the homeward journey of the two young fellows. A hundred years ago this must have been a somewhat formidable undertaking; and we almost regret that the chronicler did not furnish us with more details than he has done:

'1772 * * * Sometimes,' writes Borlase, 'we met with a landlord in men's clothes, but for the most part we discovered that the men had dropt their prerogation, and we found the supreme authority over the inns lodged in gowns and petticoats. Ordered by Sir John not to write one word of the pretty black-ey'd girl at Bridport, but to go on with the particulars of our journey. I think I am at liberty to tell you of a misfortune which happened to me at Launceston. As we were passing though that fatal town (I am heartily sorry I have forgot what day of the month 'twas), but, however, as we were passing through, whom should we see at the door of an inn but our landlord's daughter! Whether Sir John was dry and thirsty or not I can't tell, but we all agreed to take our pint at the door, and being men of no little gallantry because just come from town, we were talking very smartly, as you may imagine, to the girl who filled the wine, when all of a sudden, my unfortunate eyes happened to fix upon a green ribbon that hung playing to-and-fro with the air a little lower than it should. As I was the only person that discovered it, I told the lady I was apprehensive she would lose that pretty ribbon if she did not withdraw. I was then on horseback, and, to my great confusion, had not the presence of mind to alight and take care of it myself, upon which Sir John has so teased and bantered me that I have had no rest ever since. I beg you would write Sir John, and let him know that such a misfortune deserves rather pity than upbraidings. And now, Madam, I suppose you are almost as tired with our journey as we are, or (to go as far as possible with the comparison) as three of Sir John's horses, which we left upon the road.'

The writer of the article goes on to say:

* * * * *

'We must now turn away for a moment from the pleasant scenes at Ludgvan, and follow Borlase's friend of college days as he enters the chapel at St. Stephen's--the youngest member, perhaps, of that distinguished assembly. Born in the year 1700, Sir John St. Aubyn was only just of age when, in 1722, he was returned to Parliament for his native county. Different indeed, yet in one respect alike, had been the destinies of the friends since we left them after their journey in the beginning of the year. Parting, the one to mix in the affairs of State in times the most perplexing, the other to the peaceful seclusion of his country parsonage; each had, nevertheless, marked out for himself a path of mental activity. That the confidence of his country, though entrusted to so young a man, had not been misplaced, may be judged from an extract in the correspondence before us. Thus, a gentleman writing from London, March 2nd, 1726, observes: "Sir R.---- [Sir Robert Walpole] this Session has met with a strong opposition in the House of Commons; Sir John St. Aubyn has gained a great reputation in that House, and the opinions of our politicians in relation to war or peace are as different as their faces."

'A year or two later an incident in Cornish history gave him an opportunity of making himself more than ever beloved at home. In 1727, when, as Hume tells us, "the Courts of France and Spain were perfectly reconciled, and all Europe was freed from the calamities of war, the peace of Great Britain was disturbed by tumults amongst the tinners of Cornwall, who, being provoked by a scarcity of corn, rose in arms and plundered the granaries of the county." At this time it happened that Sir John had just completed a new pier at the Mount, to facilitate the exportation of tin, which was shipped in large quantities at that place.[135] The consequence was that the tinners congregated in considerable numbers; the place became a rendezvous for malcontents, and fresh riots broke out. Very serious consequences were apprehended, and what might actually have happened none can say, had it not been that the magnanimous spirit and unselfish patriotism of the young statesman showed itself in a measure of local policy which doubly endeared him to his countrymen. He "forthwith advanced a considerable sum of money to the tinners, by which they were saved from starving, or the necessity of plundering their neighbours." "Constant in his attendance and application to the business of the House of Commons," writes Borlase, in a note attached to the St. Aubyn pedigree, "he soon learnt to speak well, but spoke seldom, and never but on points of consequence. He was heard with pleasure by his friends, and with respect by others." In 1734 he seconded the repeal of the Septennial Act, in a speech which will be found in the "Handy Book of British Eloquence."'

And here we must leave the _Quarterly_ Reviewer for awhile, in order to give a sample of Sir John's oratorical powers. I quote from the report, in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1734, of his speech of the 13th March, on seconding Mr. Bromley's motion.

Sir John began by vigorously sketching the characters of those monarchs who were fond of 'Long Parliaments,' and thus referred to the Parliaments of Charles II., who, he said, 'naturally took a surfeit of Parliaments in his Father's time, and was therefore extremely desirous to lay them aside. But this was a scheme impracticable. However, in effect he did so, for he obtained a Parliament, which by its long Duration, like an army of Veterans, became so exactly disciplined to his own Measures, that they knew no other command but from that Person who gave them their Pay.

'This was a safe and a most ingenious way of enslaving a Nation. It was very well known that Arbitrary Power, if it was open and avowed, would never prevail here. The people were therefore amused with the Specious Form of their Antient Constitution; it existed, indeed, in their Fancy; but, like a mere Phantom, had no Substance nor Reality in it, for the Power, the Authority, the Dignity of Parliament were wholly lost. This was that remarkable Parliament which so justly obtained the opprobrious Name of "Model," from which, I believe, some Later Parliaments have been exactly copied.'

He then went on to describe the evils of Long Parliaments, saying:

'But this must be the Work of Time. Corruption is of so base a Nature, that at first sight it is extremely shocking. Hardly anyone has submitted to it all at once. His Disposition must be previously understood; the particular Bait must be found out with which he is to be allured; and, after all, it is not without many struggles that he surrenders his Virtue. Indeed, there are some who will at once plunge themselves over Head and Ears into any base Action; but the generality of mankind are of a more cautious Nature, and will proceed only by some leisurely Degrees. One or two perhaps have deserted their Colours the first Campaign; some have done it in a second. But a great many who have not that eager Disposition to Vice will wait till a Third.

'For this reason, Short Parliaments have been less Corrupt than Long Ones; they are observed, like Streams of Water, always to grow more impure the greater Distance they run from the Fountain-head.'

The independent speaker finished with this spirited peroration:

'The Power of the Crown is very justly apprehended to be growing to a monstrous--I should have said, too great--a Size, and several Methods have been unsuccessfully proposed for restraining it within due Bounds.

'But our Disease, I fear, is of a complicated Nature, and I think that this Motion is wisely intended to remove the first and Principal Disorder. Give the people their antient Right of frequent new Elections; That will restore the decay'd Authority of Parliament, and will put our Constitution into a natural Condition of working out her Cure. Sir, upon the whole I am of opinion that I can't express a greater Zeal for his Majesty, for the Liberties of the People, or the Honour and Dignity of this House, than in seconding the Motion which the Hon. Gentleman has made you.'

It should be remembered that such sentiments as these were uttered to an audience--not of his constituents, whom he might have felt bound to please, but to a thoroughly corrupted House of Commons, at a period when '_not_ to be corrupted was the shame;' and in the presence of a powerful Minister, whom few men of the day were either strong or virtuous enough to dare to thwart. The chubby, youthful-faced portrait of the little Sir John hangs in the dining-room at Clowance: childish the face may be; but, as if in apology for his small, juvenile presence, he points with his right hand to the Mount, to indicate that his principles were as firm and unshaken as that 'hoar rock.'[136]

The _Quarterly_ Reviewer (from whom we again quote), after concluding his observations on Sir John's speech in 1734, goes on to say:

'In the same year a curious incident occurred in the neighbourhood of his seat at Clowance, with which Sir John was only indirectly connected in his capacity of Justice of the Peace, but which was ultimately attended with very serious consequences to himself and his family. A certain Henry Rogers, by trade a pewterer, having some fancied claim to an estate called Skewis, seized the manor house, and, surrounding himself with a band of cut-throats, organized a rebellion on his own account, and bade defiance to the country round. Having beaten off from his house, not without bloodshed, first the sheriff, next the constables, and finally the military themselves, the villain succeeded in making good his escape. He was subsequently arrested at Salisbury, and brought to Launceston for trial, where the grand jury found five bills of murder against him, and Lord Chief Justice Hardwicke publicly returned thanks to Sir John "for his steady endeavours to bring him to justice."[137]

'The terror, however, which this ruffian caused in the neighbourhood can scarcely be realized nowadays, and the menacing letters received by Lady St. Aubyn so preyed upon her mind, that they brought on a "sensible decay," or, as we should call it now, a rapid decline, from the effects of which, in 1740, she died.[138]