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To the last he was distressed that it had not been in his power to finish his temple. He left Rimini to the regency of Isotta and eventually to her eldest son Sallustio

from the reproach than are the principal- he pleaded his cause, imploring on his ities and the republics. Nothing could knees that Rimini should not be taken help Sigismondo. As a final resource he away from him. The pope did not misdecided to turn roving condottiere once read the submission - at bay the kneeling more; and, leaving the faithful city to the man would still prove formidable. The wise and popular government of Isotta, he appeal was granted without conditions. offered his sword to Venice. He hoped Sigismondo fell dangerously ill, and althus to restore his credit and to do some- though he apparently recovered, the menthing towards refilling his empty coffers. tal crisis he had gone through undermined In the former hope he was not deceived; his strength. Two years later he died for, although the campaign which he at Rimini, aged only fifty years. commanded in the Morea led to no practical results, it amply confirmed his military reputation, and it surrounded him with the halo of a defender of the faith. But the faith was the last thing he was making no mention in his will of Rothinking about in the Morea. It is said berto Malatesta, fruit of an early intrigue that he looked forward with pleasure to with a lady of Pesaro, who was already meeting the great Platonist, Gemisthus grown to manhood, and was noted for dePletones, whom he supposed to be living cision of character and military talent. there; but on arriving he found that the Roberto Malatesta had not treated his philosopher had lately died. What is cer- father well; but to pass him over was a tain is that he brought home to Rimini piece of imprudence for which those Gemisthus's bones, and had them rever-whom Sigismondo cared most for were to ently placed in one of the tombs which, pay dearly. Roberto did not show his by a fine thought, he had prepared in the wall of his temple for the poets and men of letters whom he attracted to his court. He always treated artists and literary men - not with grinding condescension or insolent tolerance, but as the true kings of the earth.

The Church never ceased to cast longing eyes on Rimini, and it now occurred to Paul II. that fair words might obtain what savage treatment had been powerless to achieve. Professing a tender interest in his new friend, he suggested that he should renounce Rimini in exchange for Foligno and Spoleto, where he would be much quieter and more comfortable than in the exposed city on the coast. When Sigismondo seized the drift of the message, such a rage overtook him as never, since the wrath of Achilles, possessed a human being. For this one moment, who will withhold him sympathy? Give up his birthright for a mess of pottage? Abandon Rimini, where he had built his temple and his Rocca, that marvel of scientific fortification, esteemed impregnable?"Tell the pope," he cried, "that I will bring the answer myself." Frantic with passion, he rushed to Rome, intending (so the story goes) to slay the pontiff with a dagger hidden, or scarcely hidden, under his cloak. The pope got wind of the scheme, and, contrary to his custom, was attended by a strong force of his guards when he received his visitor. From an assassin Sigismondo became a suppliant. The pent-up emotion burst forth, and tears choked his utterance as

hand at once; but he kept his end steadily in view till it was reached. He had his brother Sallustio murdered, contriving that the crime should be imputed to a young noble, against whom he excited the vengeance of the populace, whilst he himself wept a pond of crocodile tears. His second half-brother was "removed" on a flimsy charge of treason. Isotta only remained in his way, and he is reported to have caused poison to be administered to her. But what poison could more surely produce the cruel, wasting disease of which she died than the anguish at the loss of her children?

Roberto was fond of costly pageants, and hence was called "the magnificent." The "Veni, vidi, vixi" of Cæsar was applied to him when, in 1480, by a rapid march and a victory of uncommon brilliancy, he saved Rome from falling into the hands of the Duke of Calabria-described by Comines as "the cruelest, worst, most vicious, and basest man ever seen.' "The gratitude of the Romans, who had made sure of being given over to fire and the sword, was unbounded; a cardinal led the victor's horse, the sacred college walked behind him. The streets still rang with the plaudits that greeted him, when he was taken ill, and in a few hours he expired. Some historians have thought that Sistus IV. wished to get rid of a too powerful ally; but a rival condottiere in the papal service is much more plausibly held accountable for the disappearance of the last great Malatesta.

After a precarious tenure of another

half century, the family ceased to rule Rimini, which fell to the portion of the Holy See, of whose dominion the fortified walls raised by Paul V. are a picturesque reminder.

Not Rimini only, but the whole of Romagna, was bit by bit absorbed by the power which could wait. If long desire makes fulfilment sweet, then this must have been the sweetest of political triumphs. Nevertheless, the acquisition of the most turbulent of Italian populations was a boon of mixed value to the temporal papacy. The Ravennati threatened Leo X. with bestowing themselves voluntarily on the sultan, and from this single fact may be judged the temper in which the Romagnols accepted their subjection. The partisans of the Church among the inhabitants were at times nearly as embarrassing as its opponents; Romagna has been the scene of white terrors as well as

of red. The papal legatees gradually yielded to the conviction that this prov ince was beyond the power of human governance, and took the consequences with as much Christian resignation as they could muster.

In March, 1815, Joachim Murat issued at Rimini the proclamation which was as good as his own death-warrant. Few remember it now; yet few such documents

better deserve to be remembered. Inde

pendence from the Alps to the Straits of Scylla, "scontri dal suolo italico ogni dominio straniero." We have often heard this language since; but then it was unaccustomed indeed.

The Vatican always dimly discerned the Nemesis of its temporal ascendency in that unity of Italy of which Dante and Macchiavelli dreamt, but which it was reserved to us to see accomplished. Rimini, with the rest of Romagna, became part of the Italian kingdom by the decree of March, 1860.

E. MARTINENGO CESARESCO.

From Temple Bar. ENGLISH COURT LIFE IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

FOREMOST among the distinguished soldiers whom, on the conclusion of the peace of Utrecht in 1713, England welcomed back to her shores, second perhaps only to the great Marlborough himself,

Derived from the "Letters and Journals of Lady Mary Coke," printed for private circulation in 1889, by the Earl of Home.

was John, Duke of Argyll who, ever since in his seventeenth year he had been entrusted with the command of a regiment of horse by Dutch William, had been in the van of battle wherever hard fighting was to be found.

A laurel-crowned hero of illustrious birth and exalted rank, in the flower of his manhood and the full flush of martial triumph; handsome, accomplished, and possessed of manners of singular fascination, could hardly fail to prove a valued acquisition at the court of Queen Anne, where rival statesmen now competed for his support and alliance; where poets invoked the inspiration of the muse to sing the praises of

Argyll, the State's whole thunder born to

wield,

And shake alike the Senate and the Field; † where beauty lavished her sweetest smiles upon this favored son of Mars.

None the less sweet were these smiles, nay, to him perhaps only the more flattering, for the fact that they could meet with no honorable return, since some ten or twelve years back, the duke had conferred his hand upon a city heiress, whose companionship he had found less agreeable than her fortune, and from whom he had long lived apart.

Among Queen Anne's maids of honor there was at that time, a ruddy-cheeked, awkward-mannered girl named Jane Warburton, who created much amusement among her companions by her rustic ignorance of etiquette and social usages. As an illustration of this we are told that being required to account for her failure to attend upon her Majesty on a certain occasion, the excuse she assigned for her absence was that she had not been warned

for this service by the Scavenger, as in her innocence she described the court official charged with keeping the duty roster of the ladies of the royal household, under the title of "Harbinger."

Lady Louisa Stuart, writing a century later, is at a loss to understand how her great-aunt, Mistress Jane Warburton"respectable young women," we are told,

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were not yet styled misses" - had attained such a position, since, "though well born in the Herald's sense of the word, her education had not fitted her for the stately elegant court," to which, raw from Cheshire, she had "brought with her a coarseness of language and manners,

The second Duke of Argyll, created Duke of Greenwich in the peerage of England. + Pope's Epilogue to the Satires.

which we could hardly expect in the dairy | trifling mistake. Virtuous, the simple soul maid of her father's equals.* Unfortu- really was, and from principle steadily observ nately she had no personal charms to make amends for the rusticity, ignorance, and want of breeding that soon rendered her the standing jest of her companions in office."

Nevertheless it was this simple and unattractive Jenny Warburton whom the accomplished Duke of Argyll now singled out from among the admired and admiring throng of rank, beauty, and fashion around Anne's throne, as the one object of his devoted homage, ultimately of a life-long

affection.

The circumstance of his Grace being already provided with a consort does not appear to have prevented this perfectly well-conducted maid of honor from accepting his marked attentions with respectful appreciation.

Such experience of female society as, in the course of his active military career, he had been able to acquire, had not served to inspire the duke with a high opinion of the sex. He believed little enough in the virtue of any woman; but by some curious process of reasoning had convinced himself that those of superior mind were necessarily depraved; that chastity was incompatible with intellectual gifts, and that ignorance and stupidity were the best safeguards of innocence. From this point of view Mistress Jane Warburton was indeed a prize worth winning; yet, though he apprehended that in her case the siege would be a protracted one, he did not doubt that in the end victory would crown his efforts.

But when [says the family biographer]† on the contrary, she proved absolutely immovable, not to be tempted by promises or presents or magnificent offers, nor yet to be worked upon by all the arts of captivation which he could not but know that he eminently possessed, his admiration exceeded even his surprise. He became convinced that he had found the Pearl of Price: the most virtuous, if not the only virtuous woman in the world; all the while never doubting that this heroic resistance cost her dear, and was the final result of many a painful struggle with secret love. Here his own ardent imagination, aided by his vanity, led him into a

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ing those plain precepts which her limited capacity permitted her to comprehend; but in the present instance it cost her no trouble at all. Virtue had neither a warm constitution nor a tender heart to contend with; and as for romantic love, its torments, raptures, conflicts, illusions, perplexities, nothing in Sir Isaac Newton's works could have been less intelligible to a mind like Jenny's. She posi tively would not, for all his Grace was worth, and so she told him, be that thing whose proper name it did not abhor her, as it did but she had no delicacy to be wounded by the poor Desdemona, to speak very distinctively; affronting proposal, nor did she see any reabefore, since she felt herself in no danger son for keeping him at a greater distance than Their intercourse therefore continued undiminished, continued so for years andwhich was remarkable, but a proof that the world can sometimes be just-it raised no scandalous report to her prejudice. town, the court, nay, sister maids of honor, watchful spies of all that passed, bore wit ness to its perfect innocence and pronounced her character unimpeachable.

The

As prudent lovers in a more humble class of life, having plighted their troth, mutually agree to await the promised increase of income, or the looked-for legacy, before rushing into matrimony, so the duke and the maid of honor now arranged to defer the consummation of their happiness until the deserted wife should have the complaisance to retire from the scene. Society appears to have accepted this understanding as an ordinary engagement of marriage, so much so, indeed, that when, on the demise of Queen Anne, Mistress Jane Warburton's court functions came to an end, the ministry, in consideration for his Grace, at once attached her in the same capacity to the person of the new Princess of Wales. Nor was it long before virtue and constancy met with their reward. The deserted wife, who had been in failing health for some time, died in 1717, and six months later for "Jenny" had declined to accede to the request of her ardent suitor that their hands should be joined without a day's delay — the maid of honor was transformed into the Duchess of Argyll.

The duke was a zealous champion of the Hanove rian succession, and he it was who, accompanied by the Duke of Somerset, while Queen Anne lay dying in the adjoining apartments, forced his way unsummoned into the Council-chamber at Kensington Palace, and de feated the plans of the Tories, for the restoration of the Stuarts, by insisting upon a staunch Whig, the Duke of Shrewsbury, being appointed lord treasurer. Later in life he joined the Opposition, but indignantly resented an attempt made to implicate him in a plot formed in favor of the Pretender.

Two centuries ago a much wider line the Cheshire hoyden of the days of the of demarcation was still drawn between Court-Scavenger, but to the last have rethe social status of the peer and the non-mained "her faithful doting and adoring ennobled gentleman than is known to the lover." present generation; and it may be conceived how brilliant a prize a coronet ornamented with strawberry leaves must have been deemed by the family of the Cheshire squire.

Her female Court, the wives and retainers [says Lady Louisa Stuart, speaking of her great-aunt at this period] were of course more obsequious to her than she had ever been to Queen Caroline or Queen Anne; and what homage was paid her by her own Cheshire relations you may conjecture from the reverential style used by her very mother, in those letters found among Lady Greenwich's papers. Old Mrs. Warburton was a member of a great Welsh family whose genealogical tree took root in almost prehistoric ages; yet so overcome was she by the awe-inspiring idea of being the mother of a duchess, that when "The dear young ladies," as she called her grandchildren, were sent to pay her a visit in the country, she could hardly find words to express her grateful sense of the honor conferred upon

her.

Lady Louisa, indeed, suggests that as, in accordance with German etiquette, the Princess Amelia,* in writing to her nephew, George the Third, on his accession to the throne, subscribed herself his Majesty's "most dutiful niece," lest the claim to the title of aunt should imply an assumption of superiority, so old Mrs. Warburton, in addressing her ennobled offspring, should have remained her Grace's most dutiful daughter."

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"Jenny" herself, however, appears to have been little elated by this rise in the social scale. She bore her honors meekly, and it may be safely assumed that she never turned her back upon friends or acquaintances less highly placed. The range of her affections may have been as limited as her biographer asserts; but such love as she was capable of, was evidently bestowed upon the handsome Scot, the famous soldier, the fascinating courtier, rather than upon the stately Duke of Argyll and Greenwich.

It is certainly surprising that a man of his polished manners and fastidious tastes, and who habitually employed a nicety of language bordering upon pedantry, should not only have become enamored of, and married, one who through life retained the abrupt bearing and the coarse diction of

The unmarried daughter of George the Second.

Lady Louisa accounts for this on the supposition that "his beloved Jane's vulgarity passed for uprightness and simplicity with him;" but here, as in other instances, she does her kinswoman injus. tice.

Tactless and unrefined the "Duchess Jenny" undoubtedly was, and ever continued to be; but she was not by nature "vulgar." In this respect, indeed, she formed a pleasing contrast with some of the great personages around her, and notably with her own youngest daughter, the writer of the journal, who, notwithstand. ing her courtly manners, was vulgar, besides being entirely devoid of the native honesty of character which went far to redeem her mother's disregard of etiquette and conventional decorum.

The biographer finally admits that, although her Grace of Argyll unquestionably

had the obstinacy of a fool in the petty concerns which she viewed as her own province, it is but fair to say that she was quite free from the cunning which often attends weak understandings. Plain truth and honesty were the principal features of her character; she always took a straight path and always meant to take the right one. In a word, she was a good woman to the utmost of her knowledge and her power.

And these, be it said, were precisely the qualities which had rendered her attractive in the eyes of the duke, and which enabled her to remain his loved, trusted, and hon ored companion as long as he lived. She could no more have been transformed into a grande dame than into a blue-stocking, but neither could she have become a vulgar woman in the true sense of the word.

The one cloud upon their domestic happiness was the absence of a male heir; daughter having perversely followed daughter to the number of five. This circumstance was the more aggravating from the strained relations existing between the duke and his brother and presumptive heir, Lord Islay. The characters of the two men presented that contrast not uncommonly found in the offspring of the same parents; the former combining with the habits of a warmhearted and impulsive soldier much literary culture and strong poetic tastes and aspirations; the latter, bred a lawyer, being practical and business-like, cool and wary, with a keen eye to his personal interests. He considered

his brother visionary and wrong-headed, and " having no toleration for fools of either sex," felt a supreme contempt for his sister-in-law; who in her turn hated him cordially, and went out of her way to let him know it.

So the education of the four daughters (one had died in childhood) was entrusted to the steward, who gave them lessons in writing and ciphering, and to the housekeeper, who taught them needlework.

veins to be afraid of anybody," was overindulged and spoilt by the duke.

The duchess had no strong maternal When in course of time the duke broke feelings, and the girls stood in much awe with Sir Robert Walpole and joined the of their father, Mary the youngest, born Tories in opposition to the court party, in 1726, alone excepted; and she having he found it politic to enter more into gen-"too much of the Tollemache blood in her eral society than he had previously done. The duchess had been in the habit of associating only with a small number of intimates, who, according to Lady Louisa, though they could hardly help having manners more genteel than her own, were pretty much on a par with her otherwise, and, like herself, guiltless of any affinity to that prescribed class "your clever women," whom her lord's maxims authorized her to esteem for the most part no better than they should be. Gladly did she bar her door against "all such cattle," one person excepted, who, by his express mandate, had constant admittance.

This was Lady S- - whose judgment he valued so highly as to insist upon her being consulted in all cases which he felt his Jane incompetent to decide.

In thus forcing upon his wife the intimacy of a lady of powerful mind and damaged reputation, the duke took care to explain that this was an exceptional case, and was not to be taken as an indication of any change in his opinion as to the effect of intellect upon the moral nature of women. Lady S was no doubt too

clever to be virtuous, for in endowing her with brains nature had condemned her to frailty; but she had always kept up appearances, and, as he had reason to believe, had only been the mistress of the king.

The duke and his consort had certain domestic tastes in common. Without being parsimonious they were both " careful" in money matters, and averse to a more lavish expenditure than was absolutely necessary in so large a household. They were, moreover, in complete agreement as to the training of their daughters.

His peculiar views of the sex made him opposed to the cultivation of their intellect, while she argued that as, without the advantage of learning or accomplishments she had succeeded in marrying a duke, there could be no reason for giving her girls a better education. She did not speak a word of French; why then should they want to learn that language? Why, indeed? echoed the duke; one language is enough for any virtuous woman to talk in.

• In the memoir the name is given in full.

She was a child of violent temper which it amused him to arouse; and as schoolboys will teach a pony to lash out, or a dog to snap at people's fingers, so he loved to exasperate his youngest daughter, till "she flew about like a little tiger, screaming, scratching, and tearing," when he would coax her back to good humor by caresses and sugarplums.

The Duke of Argyll died from the effects of a paralytic seizure in 1743. His widow, who survived him by twenty-four years, made no display of violent grief; but there is something touching in the meekness of her tearful lament: "Well, I have been the favorite of a great man!"

The eldest daughter married succesTownshend, the statesman and orator; sively the Earl of Dalkeith and Charles but, dying without heirs male, the barony of Greenwich, which had been conferred upon her in her own right, became extinct.

The second married the Earl of Straf

ford, and the third her cousin, James second Earl of Bute. This lady appears Stuart Mackenzie, a younger son of the to have inherited her mother's bluntness of manner and speech, for according to Mrs. Anne Pitt (Lord Chatham's sister), of telling one that one lies, and that one "Lady Betty took the liberty in society is a fool, and I cannot say that I think it at all agreeable."

Like her mother before her, however, she had the power of captivating her husband, who remained devoted to her for years, and when he lost her, we are told, "died of grief."

There remains the "little tigress " of the nursery, the writer of the "Letters and Journals," upon whose strange characthe introductory memoir throws some ter and unaccountable vagaries of conduct light. Lady Louisa Stuart's biographical sketch is written with much spirit and humor, and with a refreshing absence of that partiality or blindness of kinsmanship, which is the common blemish of family history.

If some vitriol is mixed up with the

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