Part 16

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.

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.”

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.”

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.

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.”

We cannot do better than ask our readers to accompany Mr. Parker in his tour through the house. Ascending the staircase on one side of the hall, the company passed through the solar or lord’s chamber, at one end of which Mr. Parker thought the chapel had been originally screened off, and that it was changed into a ball-room in the reign of Queen Anne. The Buckingham Building, which was next visited, was found to have been admirably restored, although it had fallen into a sad state of ruin. Fragments of one of the old windows, however, were discovered, and these enabled the architect to restore it completely. Mr. Parker considered it to be one of the most beautiful instances of restoration he had seen. It gave a most vivid idea of its original state. The company then descended into the lower chamber or parlour of the house of the time of Edward III., which was perfectly preserved, and an excellent example of a mediæval vaulted substructure. Passing to the Elizabethan house, the company entered a suite of rooms elegantly furnished, and containing many exceedingly interesting objects. The chairs were of the time of Charles II., of English manufacture, and the best specimens of that date that could be found. There were also a couch of the same period, and an Augsburg clock of the seventeenth century, some very old and valuable paintings, and choice cabinets of carved ebony. Among other curiosities was an illustration of the funeral procession of Sir Philip Sidney. Mr. Parker then drew attention to the exterior architectural style of the Buckingham Building, added in the time of Richard II., and admirably restored by the architect. The recent restoration of the Elizabethan Building had also been ably done. The windows were especially noticeable, by the skilful manner in which the work had been executed after the style of fragments of the old work. The Elizabethan front was also an object of much interest. The exterior architecture in the servants’ court was a noble composition, full of interest.

Thus the “restorations” have been made in good taste and with sound judgment; and the seat of the Sidneys has regained its rank as one of the finest and most extensive edifices in the county of Kent.

In the interior the “Hall” is remarkably fine and interesting, with good architectural features. The pointed timber roof, upon which the slates are laid, is supported by a series of grotesque life-size corbels; and the screen of the gallery is richly carved and panelled. The gallery—“The Minstrels’ Gallery”—fills the side opposite the dais, and the Gothic windows are narrow and lofty. Every object, indeed, calls to mind and illustrates the age of feudalism. The oak tables, on which retainers feasted, still occupy the hall, and in its centre are the huge dogs in an octagonal enclosure, beneath the louvre, or lanthorn, in the roof, which formerly permitted egress to the smoke.