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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Robert Boyle
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eBook.
Language: English
BY
FLORA MASSON
LONDON
CONSTABLE & COMPANY LTD.
1914
“... Not needlessly to confound the herald with the historian, and begin a relation
with a pedigree....”—Robert Boyle’s Philaretus.
The story of how Mr. Richard Boyle became the great Earl of Cork
is one of the most brilliant romances of the British Peerage. It has
been often told, nowhere more graphically than by the Earl himself,
in his brief True Remembrances.[3] So triumphant and so
circumstantial, indeed, are the Earl’s “Remembrances,” that many
generations of ordinary-minded people have made the mistake of
thinking they cannot possibly be true. Only of recent years, since, in
fact, the Earl’s own letters and the Earl’s own private diary, kept to
within a few days of his death, have been given to the world under
the title of the Lismore Papers, has the cloud of incredulity rolled
aside; and the character of this man stands out to-day in its integrity,
to use his own words, “as cleer as the son at high noon.”[4]
It is the character of a great Englishman, one of Elizabeth’s
soldier-statesmen and merchant-adventurers: a man typically
Elizabethan in his virtues and his faults, though he was to live far into
the unhappy reign of Charles I. Passionately Protestant,
passionately Royalist, a fine blend of the astute and the ingenuous,
with strong family affections, splendid ambitions and schemes of
statecraft, he was relentless in his prejudices and enmities,
indomitably self-sufficient, and with as much vitality in his little finger
as may be found in a whole parliamentary Bench to-day. He raised
himself from “very inconsiderable beginnings” to be one of the
greatest subjects of the realm, one of the greatest Englishmen of his
day.
He had been born at Canterbury, the second son of the second
son of a country squire—one of the Boyles of Herefordshire. His
father had migrated into Kent, married a daughter of Robert Naylor
of Canterbury, and settled at Preston, near Faversham. Here, when
Richard was ten years old, his father died, leaving his widow to bring
up her family of two daughters and three sons on a modest income
as best she could. Mrs. Boyle had managed very well. The eldest
son, John, and Richard, the second, were sent to the King’s School,
Canterbury, and from there (Richard with a scholarship) to Bennet
College, Cambridge.[5] John Boyle duly took Orders, while Richard,
the cleverer younger brother, went up to London to study law. At
one-and-twenty he seems to have been settled in chambers in the
Middle Temple, clerk to Sir Richard Manwood, Chief Baron of the
Exchequer. At his mother’s death (Roger Boyle and Joan Naylor his
wife were buried in Preston Parish Church), Richard Boyle decided
that he would never “raise a fortune” in the Middle Temple, and must
“travel into foreign kingdoms,” and “gain learning, knowledge, and
experience abroad in the world.” And the foreign kingdom toward
which he turned his strenuous young face was Ireland: Ireland in the
reign of Elizabeth, in the year of the Armada. It was five-and-twenty
years since the Irish chieftain Shan O’Neil had presented himself at
Elizabeth’s Court, to be gazed at by peers and ambassadors and
bishops as if he were “some wild animal of the desert.”[6] Shan
O’Neil had stalked into the Queen’s presence, “his saffron mantle
sweeping round and round him, his hair curling on his back and
clipped short below the eyes, which gleamed under it with a grey
lustre, burning fierce and cruel.”[7] And behind him were his bare-
headed, fair-haired Galloglasse, clad in their shirts of mail and
wolfskins, with their short, broad battle-axes in their hands. The
chieftain had flung himself upon his face before the Queen with
protestations of loyalty and fair intention; and all those five-and-
twenty years the attitude of Ireland had been one of submission and
protestation, flanked and backed by wolfskins, shirts of mail and
battle-axes. The Desmond Rebellion had been quelled amid horrors.
It was still a “savadge nation”[8] this, to which Mr. Richard Boyle was
setting forth: an Ireland of primeval forests and papal churchlands, of
vivid pastures and peel towers and untamed Erse-speaking tribes.
With its ores and timber, its grasslands and salmon-fishing, its fine
ports, and, above all, its proximity to Elizabethan England, it was a
land teeming with industrial possibilities; but it bristled and whispered
with race-hatred and creed-hatred, with persecution and conspiracy.
This was the Ireland that was being eagerly peopled and exploited
and parcelled out by Elizabethan Englishmen.
And so, on Midsummer Eve 1588, another clever young man
arrived in Dublin. He had twenty-seven pounds and three shillings[9]
in his possession, and on his wrist and finger he wore the two
“tokens” left him by his dead Kentish mother—the gold bracelet on
his wrist, worth about £10, and the diamond ring on his finger, the
“happy, lucky and fortunate stone” that was to stay there till his
death, and be left an heirloom to his son’s son and successive
generations of the great Boyle family.
The Earl never forgot the accoutrements and the various suits of
clothes with which he started in life when, at two-and-twenty, he shut
the door of his chambers in the Middle Temple behind him: “A taffety
doublet cut with and upon taffety; a pair of black velvet breeches
laced, a new Milan fustian suit, laced and cut upon taffety, two
cloaks, competent linen and necessaries, with my rapier and
dagger.” And he must have carried letters of introduction also, which
procured the young lawyer employment and influential friends; for
Mr. Richard Boyle was very soon launched on Dublin society, and
was on friendly terms with at least two men who hailed from his own
county of Kent, Sir Edward Moore, of Mellifont, in Meath, and Sir
Anthony St. Leger, who was living in Dublin. It is more than possible
that he met also at this time the poet Spenser; for Dublin must have
been Spenser’s headquarters since 1580, when he came over to
Ireland as Secretary to the Lord Deputy. Spenser, who it is believed
had been through all the horrors of the Desmond Rebellion, was, in
1588, after having held various appointments, leaving Dublin to take
up his bachelor abode at Kilcolman, a peel tower abandoned by the
Desmonds and assigned, with some thousands of acres around it, to
this English poet-politician, already known as the author of the
Shepheard’s Calendar. At Kilcolman, in this peel tower in a wild
wooded glen among the Galtee Hills, about thirty miles south of
Limerick, Sir Walter Raleigh came to stay with Spenser when he too
was in Ireland, inspecting the vast Irish estates that had been
assigned to him. It was there they read their poems aloud to each
other, and that Raleigh persuaded Spenser to go back with him to
London, together to offer their poems to the Queen. During the first
year or two, therefore, of Boyle’s sojourn in Ireland, while he was
working his way into the notice of Englishmen of influence there,
Spenser was in London, being lionised as the Poet of Poets, the
author of the first three books of the Faerie Queene.
When Spenser returned to Ireland with a royal pension as Clerk to
the Council of the Province of Munster, Richard Boyle was already
clerk, or deputy, to the “Escheator General,” busy adjusting the
claims of the Crown to “escheated” Irish lands and titles—travelling
about, and making enemies of all people who did not get exactly
what they wanted out of the Escheator or the Escheator’s clerk. Both
Boyle’s sisters had joined him in Ireland, and both were soon to
marry husbands there; and somewhere about this time his cousin,
Elizabeth Boyle, daughter of James Boyle, of the Greyfriars in
Hereford, was in Ireland, and the poet Spenser, back from his
London visit, the literary hero of the hour, met and fell in love with
Boyle’s cousin Elizabeth. She is the lady of the Amoretti and
Epithalamium; “my beautifullest bride,” with the “sunshyny face,” and
the “long, loose, yellow locks lyke golden wyre,” whose name the
poet-lover was to trace in the yellow Irish sands, and of whom he
sang so proudly—
“By God’s death, these are but inventions against this young man.”
And again: “We find him to be a man fit to be employed by
ourselves.”
Boyle was received at Court, and when he was sent back to
Ireland it was as Clerk to the Council of Munster, the very post that
Spenser had held. He bought Sir Walter Raleigh’s ship, the Pilgrim,
freighted her with victuals and ammunition, sailed in her, “by long
seas” to Carrickfoyle, and took up his new work under the splendid
Presidentship of Sir George Carew. His wife’s lands were recovered:
“Richard Boyle of Galbaly in the County of Limerick, Gent.,” waited
on Carew through all the siege of Kinsale, and was employed by him
to carry the news of victory to the Queen in London. There he was
the guest of Sir Robert Cecil, “then principal secretary,” in his house
in the Strand, and was taken by Cecil next morning to Court, and into
the bedchamber of her Majesty, “who remembered me, calling me by
name, and giving me her hand to kiss.”[12]
Quickly back in Ireland, Richard Boyle became the Lord
President’s right hand in all his strenuous services to the Crown: in
later years one of the few literary treasures in the great Earl’s
“studdie” was the copy of Carew’s Hibernia Pacata given him by his
Chief. It was Carew who sent him in 1602 to London, furnished with
letters to Cecil and to Sir Walter Raleigh, recommending him as a fit
purchaser of the Raleigh Estates in Ireland. The thousands of acres
in the counties of Cork and Waterford known as the “Raleigh-
Desmond Estates” were then and there, in London, bought from Sir
Walter Raleigh “at a very low rate.” In Richard Boyle’s hands, the
waste lands that to Raleigh had been a source of anxiety and money
loss were to become the best “settled” and most prosperous territory
in Ireland, and a source of wealth and power to him who made them
so. For Richard Boyle was not only a great landowner, he was a
shrewd man of business, a capitalist and a large employer of labour.
It was, says Grosart, “his perseverance and governing faculty and
concentrated energy that transformed bleak mountain and creation-
old fallow moor and quaking bog into hives of population and
industry.”[13]
Sir George Carew went a step further. He “dealt very nobly and
fatherlike” with Mr. Boyle in recommending him to marry again. And
the lady whom Carew had in view for his protégé was Katharine
Fenton, the seventeen-year-old daughter of Sir Geoffrey Fenton, the
wise and enlightened Secretary of State. There is a pretty tradition
handed down in the Boyle family—the Earl’s own daughter used to
tell it—that Mr. Boyle first met his second wife when he was a very
young man newly arrived in Dublin. Calling one day on business at
Sir Geoffrey Fenton’s house, and waiting in an ante-room till the
great man should be disengaged, Mr. Boyle had “entertained
himself” with a pretty child in her nurse’s arms; and when Sir
Geoffrey at last appeared and apologised for having kept his visitor
waiting, the young man “pleasantly told him he had been courting a
young lady for his wife.” This must have been in 1588. The marriage
took place fifteen years later, and a great deal had happened in the
interval. Joan Apsley and her baby were buried in Buttevant Church,
and “Richard Boyle of Galbaly in the County of Limerick, Gent.” had
purchased the vast Raleigh Estates. In July 1603 he was a wealthy
widower of thirty-seven, and Katharine Fenton was seventeen.
“I never demanded any marriage portion with her, neither promise
of any, it not being in my consideration; yet her father, after my
marriage, gave me one thousand pounds[14] in gold with her. But this
gift of his daughter to me I must ever thankfully acknowledge as the
crown of all my blessings; for she was a most religious, virtuous,
loving, and obedient wife to me all the days of her life, and the
mother of all my hopeful children.”[15]
Elizabeth was dead, and James I reigned in her stead. Sir George
Carew—the new Lord Deputy—had conferred a knighthood on Mr.
Boyle on his wedding day. Two years later he was made Privy
Councillor for the Province of Munster, and thenceforward there was
to be no stop nor hitch in the upbuilding of his great fortunes. In
1612, after another visit to London and an audience of King James,
he found himself Privy Councillor of State for the Kingdom of Ireland.
He was created Lord Boyle, Baron of Youghal, in 1616, and Viscount
of Dungarvan and Earl of Cork in 1620. His home life had run
parallel with his public services. “My Howses,” “My deare Wife,” “the
Children,” “my Famullye,” fill an important place in the Earl’s life and
diary and letters; while the wife’s few little epistolary efforts to her
husband have only one beginning: he was to her always “My owne
goode Selfe.”
Robert Boyle speaks of his mother’s “free and noble spirit”—
which, he adds, “had a handsome mansion to reside in”—and of her
“kindness and sweet carriage to her own.”[16] The hopeful children
came quickly. Roger, the first, born at Youghal in 1606, was sent at
seven years old to England, at first to his uncle John, then Dr. John
Boyle, a prebendary of Lichfield, and a year later to his mother’s
relatives, the Brownes, of Sayes Court, Deptford. There was an
excellent day-school at Deptford, to which Roger Boyle was sent;
and a rather pathetic little figure he must have cut, going to and from
school, with “shining morning face” in his baize gown trimmed with
fur.[17] On high days and holidays he wore an ash-coloured satin
doublet and cloak, trimmed with squirrel fur, and a ruff round his little
neck; and his baby sword was scarfed in green. Mrs. Townshend, in
her Life of the Great Earl, points out that the child wore out five pairs
of shoes in a year, and that his book of French verbs cost sixpence.
He was to die at Deptford, after a very short illness, when he was
only nine years old. The Brownes were terribly distressed, and did
everything they could. Mrs. Browne moved him into her own
chamber, and nursed him in motherly fashion. His Uncle John was
sent for, and sat by the little fellow’s bed till he died. The physician
and apothecary came from London by boat and administered a
“cordial powder of unicornes’ horns,” and other weird “phisicks.”
“Little Hodge” was very patient, and said his prayers of his own
accord; and after he was dead Mrs. Browne found that in his little
purse, which he called his “stock” (he must have been very like his
father in some ways), there was still more than forty shillings
unspent. All these details, and many more, were sent in letters to the
parents at Youghal, and to the grandparents, Sir Geoffrey and Lady
Fenton, in Dublin, after “my jewel Hodge,” as the grandfather used to
call him, was buried in Deptford Parish Church.
There were by this time four daughters, born in succession: Alice,
Sarah, Lettice, and Joan; a second son, Richard, born at Youghal in
1612; and a fifth daughter, Katharine, who was a baby in arms when
“little Hodge” died. A few months after his death came Geoffrey; and
then Dorothy in 1617, and Lewis two years later. Another boy was
born in 1621 and christened Roger; Francis and Mary followed in
1623 and 1624; and then came the fourteenth child, “my seaventh
son”, and the Earl made that memorable entry in his diary at
Lismore: “God bless him, for his name is Robert Boyle.”
CHAPTER II
AN IRISH CHILDHOOD
“He would ever reckon it amongst the chief misfortunes of his life that he did
never know her that gave it him.”—Robert Boyle’s Philaretus.