John Burke.

A genealogical and heraldic history of the commoners of Great Britain and Ireland, enjoying territorial possessions or high official rank; but univested with heritable honours (Volume 1) online

. (page 52 of 112)
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of the consequences. On our arrival at the
Tower, the first I introduced was Mrs.
Morgan, (for I was only allowed to take in
one at a time), she brought in the clothes
that were to serve Mrs. Mills when she left
her own behind her. When Mrs. Morgan
had taken off what she had brought for my
purpose, I conducted her back to the stair-
case, and in going, I begged her to send me
my maid to dress me, that I was afraid of
being too late to present my last petition
that night if she did not come immediately.
I dispatched her safe, and went partly
down stairs to meet Mrs. Mills, who had
the precaution to hold her handkerchief to
her face, as is natural for a woman to do,
when she is going to take her last farewell
of a friend on the eve of his execution. I
had, indeed, desired her to do so, that my
lord might go out in the same manner.
Her eyebrows were rather inclined to be
sandy, and my lord's were very dark and
very thick ; however I had prepared some
paint of the colour of her's to disguise his
with ; I also brought an artificial head-dress
of the same coloured hair as hers, and I
painted his face with white and his cheeks
with rouge, to hide his long beard, which
he had not time to shave. All this pro-
vision I had before left in the Tower. The
poor guards, whom my slight liberality the
day before had endeared me to, let me go
quietly out with my company, and were not
so strictly on the watch as they usually had
been, and the more so as they were pur-
suaded, from what I had told them the day
before, that the prisoners would obtain their
pardon. I made Mrs. Mills take off her
own hood, and put on that which I had
brought for her ; I then took her by the hand
and led her out of my lord's chamber, and
in passing through the next room, in which
were several people, with all the concern
imaginable, I said, " My dear Mrs. Catha-
rine, go in all haste and send me my wait-
ing-maid, she certainly cannot reflect how
late it is ; I am to present my petition to-
night, and if I let slip this opportunity I am
undone, for to-morrow will be too late ;
hasten her as much as possible, for 1
shall be on thorns till she comes." Every
body in the room, who were chiefly the



guards' wives and daughters, seemed to
compassionate me exceedingly, and the
centinel officiously opened me the door.
When I had seen her safe out I returned to
my lord, and finished dressing him. I had
taken care that Mrs. Mills did not go out
crying, as she came in, that my lord might
better pass for the lady who came in cry-
ing and afflicted, and the more so, because
he had the same dress which she wore.
When I had almost finished dressing my
lord in all my petticoats except one, I per-
ceived it was growing dark, and was afraid
that the light of the candles might betray us,
so I resolved to set off. I went out leading
him by the hand, whilst he held his hand-
kerchief to his eyes. I spoke to him in the
most piteous and afflicted tone of voice, be-
wailing bitterly the negligence of Evans,
who had ruined me by her delay. Then
said I, " My dear Mrs. Betty, for the love
of God, run quickly and bring her with you;
you know my lodging, and if you ever made
dispatch in your life, do it at present ; I am
almost distracted with this disappointment."
The guards opened the door, and I went
down stairs with him, still conjuring him to
niake all possible dispatch. As soon as he
had cleared the door I made him walk be-
fore me, for fear the centinel should take
notice of his walk ; but I still continued to
press him to make all the dispatch he possi-
bly could. At the bottom of the stairs I
niet my dear Evans, into whose hands I
confided him. I had before engaged Mr.
Mills to be in readiness before the Tower, to
conduct him to some place of safety, in case
we succeeded. He looked upon the affair
as so very improbable to succeed, that his
astonishment when he saw us, threw him
into such a consternation that he was almost
out of himself; which Evans perceiving,
with the greatest presence of mind, without
telling him any thing lest he should mistrust
them, conducted him to some of her own
friends on whom she could rely, and so se-
cured him, without which we should have
been undone. When she had conducted
him and left him with them, she returned to
Mr. Mills, who by this time had recovered
himself from his astonishment. They went
home together, and having found a place of
security they conducted him to it. In the
mean time, as I had pretended to have sent
the young lady on a message, I was obliged
to return up stairs, and go back to my lord's
room in the same feigned anxiety of being
too late, so that every body seemed sin-
cerely to sympathize in my distress. When
I was in the room, I talked as if he had been
really present : I answered my own ques-
tions in my lord's voice as nearly as I could
imitate it ; I walked up and down as if we
were conversing together, till I thought they
had time enough thoroughly to clear them-
selves of the guards. I then thought pro-

per to make off also. I opened the door,
and stood halfinitthat those in the outward
chamber might hear what I said, but held it
so close that they could not look in. I bade
my lord formal farewell for the night, and
added, that something more than usual must
have happened to make Evans negligent
on this important occasion, who had always
been so punctual in the smallest trifles ; that
I saw no other remedy but to go in person :
that if the Tower was still open, when I had
finished my business, I would return that
night ; but that he might be assured I would
be with him as early in the morning as I
could gain admittance into the Tower, and I
flattered myself I should bring more favour-
able news. Then, before I shut the door, I
pulled through the string of the latch, so that
it could only be opened in the inside. I
then shut it with some degree of force, that I
might be sure of its being well shut. I said
to the servant as I passed by (who was ig-
norant of the whole transaction) that he
need not carry in candles to his master, till
my lord sent for them, as he desired to
finish some prayers first. I went down stairs
and called a coach, as there were several on
the stand and drove home to my own lodg-
ings, where poor Mr. M'Kenzie had been
waiting to carry the petition, in case my at-
tempt had failed. I told him there was no
need of any petition, as my lord was safe
out of the Tower, and out of the hands of
his enemies as I supposed, but that I did
not know where he was. I discharged
the coach and sent for a sedan chair, and
went to the Duchess of Buccleugh, who ex-
pected me about that time, as I had begged of
her to present the petition for me, having
taken my precaution against all events. I
asked if she was at home, and they answered
me that she expected me, and had another
duchess with her. I refused to go up stairs
as she had company with her, and I was not
in a condition to see any other company.
I begged to be shewn into a chamber below
stairs, and that they would have the good-
ness to send her grace's maid to me, having
something to say to her. I had discharged
the chair, lest I might be pursued and
watched. When the maid came in I de-
sired her to present my most humble res-
pects to her grace, who they told me had
company with her, and to acquaint her, that
this was my only reason for not coming up
stairs. I also charged her with my sin-
cerest thanks for her kind offer to accom-
pany me when I went to present my petition.
I added, that she might spare herself any
further trouble, as it was judged more ad-
visable to present one general petition in
the name of all ; however, that I would
never be unmindful of my particular obliga-
tion to her grace, and which I should return
very soon to acknowledge in person. I then
ordered one of the servants to call a chair



and I went to the Duchess of Montrose, who
had always borne a part in my distresses.
When I arrived, she left her company to
deny herself, not being desirous to see me
under the affliction which she judged me to
be in. By mistake, however, I was admit-
ted, so there was no remedy. She came to
me, and as my heart was in an ecstasy of
joy, I expressed it in my countenance. As
she entered the room, I ran up to her in the
transport of my joy ; she appeared to be
extremely shocked and frightened, and has
since confessed to me, that she apprehended
my troubles had thrown me out of myself,
till I communicated my happiness to her.
She then advised me to return, for that the
king was highly displeased and even enraged
at the petition I had presented to him, and
had complained of it severely. I sent for
another chair, for I always discharged them
immediately, that I might not be pursued.
Her grace said she would go to Court and
see how the news of my lord's escape was
received. When the news was brought to
the king, he flew into an excessive passion,
and said he was betrayed, for it could not
have been done without a confederacy.
He instantly dispatched two persons to the
Tower, to see that the other prisoners were
well secured, lest they should follow the
example. Some threw the blame on me,
some upon another. The duchess was the
only one at court that knew it. When I
left the duchess I went to a house that
Evans had found out for me, and where she
promised to acquaint me where my lord was.
She got thither some few minutes after me,
and told me that when she had seen him
secure she went in search of Mr. Mills,
who by this time had recovered himself from
his astonishment, that he had returned to
his house where she found him, and that he
had removed my lord from the first place
where she had desired him to wait, to the
house of a poor woman directly opposite
the guard-house. She had but one small
room up one pair of stairs, and a very small
bed in it. We threw ourselves on the bed,
that we might not be heard walking up and
down. She left us a bottle of wine and
some bread, and Mrs. Mills brought us some
more in her pockets the next day. We
subsisted on this provision from Thursday
till Saturday night, when Mr. Mills came
and conducted my lord to the Venetian Am-
bassador's. We did not communicate the
affair to his excellency, but one of his ser-
vants concealed him in his own room till
Wednesday, on which day the Ambassador's
coach and six was to go down to Dover to
meet his brother. My lord put on a livery,
and went down in the retinue, without the
least suspicion, to Dover ; where Mr. Michel
(which was the name of the Ambassador's
servant) hired a small vessel, and immedi-
ately set sail for Calais. The passage was

so remarkably short that the Captain threw
out this reflection, that the wind could not
have served better if his passengers had
been flying for their lives, little thinking it
to be really the case. Mr. Michel might
have easily returned, without suspicion of
having been concerned in my lord's escape ;
but my lord seemed inclined to have him
with him, which he did, and he has at pre-
sent a good place under our young master.
This is an exact and as full an account of
this affair, and of the persons concerned in
it, as I could possibly give you, to the best
of memory, and you may rely upon the
truth of it. For my part, I absconded to
the house of a very honest man in Drury
Lane, where I remained till I was assured
of my lord's safe arrival on the continent.
I then wrote to the Duchess of Buccleugh
(every body thought till then that I was
gone off w ith my lord) to tell her I under-
stood I was suspected of having contrived
my lord's escape, as was very natural to
suppose ; that if I could have been happy
enough to have done it, I should be flattered
to have the merit of it attributed to me, but
that a bare suspicion, without proof, would
never be a sufficient ground for my being
punished for a supposed offence, though it
might be a motive sufficient for me to pro-
vide a place of security ; so I entreated her
to procure leave for me to go about my
business. So far from granting my request
they were resolved to secure me if possible.
After several debates, Mr. Solicitor-Gene-
ral, who was an utter stranger to me, had
the humanity to say, that since I shewed
such respect to Government as not to ap-
pear in public, it would be cruel to make
any search after me. Upon which it was
decided, that no further search should be
made if I remained concealed ; but that if I
appeared either in England or in Scotland,
I should be secured. But this was not suffi-
cient for me, unless I could submit to see
my son exposed to beggary. My lord sent
for me up to town in such haste, that I had
not time to settle any thing before I left Scot-
land. I had in my hands all the family papers,
and dared trust them to nobody. My house
might have been searched without warning,
consequently they were far from being secure
there. In this distress I had the precaution
to bury them in the ground, and nobody
but myself and the gardener knew where
they were. I did the same with other things
of value. The event proved that I had acted
prudently, for after my departure they
searched the house, and God only knows
what might have transpired from those
papers. All these circumstances rendered
my presence absolutely necessary, other-
wise they might have been lost, for though
they retained the highest preservation after
one very severe winter, for when I took them
up they were as dry as if they came from



the fire-side, yet, they could not possibly
have remained so much longer without pre-
judice. In short, as I had once exposed my
life for the safety of the father, I could not
do less than hazard it once more for the
fortune of the son. I had never travelled
on horseback but from York to London, as
I told you, but the difficulties did not arise
now from the severity of the season, but
the fear of being discovered and arrested.
To avoid this, I bought three saddle
horses, and set off with my dear Evans,
and a very trusty servant whom I brought
with me out of Scotland. We put up at
all the smallest inns on the road that could
take in a few horses, and where I thought
I was not known, for I was thoroughly
known at all the considerable inns on the
northern road. Thus I arrived safe at
Traquhair, where I thought myself secure,
for the Lieutenant of the County being a
friend of my lord's, would not permit any
search to be made after me without sending
me previous notice to abscond. Here I had
the assurance to rest myself for two whole
days, pretending that I was going to my own
house with leave from Government. I
sent no notice to my house, that the Magis-
enquiries about me. So they were ignorant
of my arrival in the country till I was at
home, where I still feigned to have permis-
sion to remain. To carry on the deceit the
better, I sent to all my neighbours and in-
vited them to come to my house. I took
up my papers at night, and sent them off to
Traquhair. It was a particular stroke of
providence that I made the dispatch I did,
for they soon suspected me, and by a very
favourable accident, one of them was over-
heard to say to the Magistrates of Dumfries,
that the next day they would insist on seeing
my leave from Government. This was
bruited about, and when I was told of it, I
expressed my surprise that they should be
so backward in coming to pay their respects ;
but, said I, " better late than never, be sure
to tell them that they shall be welcome
whenever they choose to come." This was
after dinner, but I lost no time to put every
tiling in readiness with all possible secrecy ;
and the next morning before day-break I
set off again for London with the same at-
tendants, and as before put up at the small-
est inns, and arrived safe once more.

On my arrival, the report was still fresh
of my journey into Scotland, in defiance of
their prohibition.

A lady informed me, that the king was
extramely incensed at the news. That he
had issued orders to have me arrested ; ad-
ding, that I did whatever I pleased in despite
of all his designs, and that I had given him
more trouble and anxiety than any other
woman in Europe. For which reason I

kept myself as closely concealed as possible,
till the heat of these reports had abated.
In the mean while I took the opinion of a
very famous lawyer, who was a man of the
strictest probity. He advised me to go off
as soon as they had ceased searching after
me. I followed his advice, and about a
fortnight after escaped without any accident
whatever. The reason he alleged for his
opinion was this, that although in other cir-
cumstances, a wife cannot be prosecuted for
saving her husband, yet in cases of high-
treason, according to the rigour of the law,
the head of the wife is responsible for that
of the husband ; and as the king was so
highly incensed there could be no answer-
ing for the consequences, and he therefore
entreated me to leave the kingdom. The
king's resentment was greatly increased by
the petition which I presented, contrary to
his express orders. But my lord was very
anxious that a petition might be presented,
hoping that it would be at least serviceable
to me. I was in my own mind convinced
that it would be to no purpose, but as I
wished to please my lord, I desired him to
have it drawn up, and I undertook to make
it come to the king's hand, notwithstanding
all the precautions he had taken to avoid it.
So the first day that I heard the king was
to go to the drawing-room, I dressed myself
in black, as if I was in mourning. I sent
for Mrs. Morgan (the same who accompanied
me to the Tower) because as I did not know
his Majesty personally, I might have mis-
taken some other person for him. She stood
by me and told me when he was coming.
I had also another lady with me, and we
three remained in a room between the king's
apartments and the drawing-room : so that
he was obliged to go through it, and as there
were three windows in it, we sat in the mid-
dle one, that I might have time enough to
meet him before he could pass. I threw
myself at his feet, and told him, in French,
that I was the unfortunate Countess of
Nithsdale, that he might not pretend to be
ignorant of my person. But perceiving that
he wanted to go off, without receiving my
petition, I caught hold of the skirts of his
coat, that he might stop and hear me. He
endeavoured to escape out of my hands, but I
kept such strong hold that he dragged me
from the middle of the room to the door of
the drawing-room. At last one of the blue-
ribbands, who attended his Majesty, took
me round the waist, whilst another wrested
the coat out of my hands. The petition,
which I had endeavoured to thrust into his
pocket, fell down in the scuffle, and I almost
fainted through grief and disappointment.
One of the gentlemen in waiting took the
petition, and as I knew that it ought to have
been given to the Lord of the Bedchamber
who was then in waiting, I wrote to him,



and entreated him to do me the favour to
read the petition which I had had the honour
to present to his Majesty.

Fortunately for me it happened to be my
Lord Dorset, with whom Mrs. Morgan was
very intimate. Accordingly, she went into
the drawing-room and presented him a letter,
which he received very graciously. He
could not read it then, as he was at cards
with the Prince, but as soon as the game
was over, he read it ; and behaved, as I af-
terwards learnt, with the greatest zeal for
my interest, and was seconded by the Duke
of Montrose, who had seen me in the anti-
chamber and wanted to speak to me, but I
made him a sign not to come near me, lest
his acquaintance should thwart my designs.
But it became the topic of their conversa-
tion the rest of the evening, and the harsh-
ness with which I had been treated soon
spread abroad, not much to the honour of
the King. Many people reflected that they
had themselves presented petitions, and that
he had never rejected any even from the
most indigent objects. But this behaviour
to a person of quality was a strong instance
of brutality. These reflections which cir-
culated about, raised the king to the highest
pitch of hatred and indignation against my
person, as he has since allowed ; for when

the ladies, whose husbands had been con-
cerned in this affair, presented their peti-
tions for dower, mine was presented among
the rest, but the king said, I was not entitled
to the same privilege, and in fact I was ex-
cluded ; and it is remarkable, that he would
never suffer my name to be mentioned.
For these reasons every body judged it pru-
dent for me to leave the kingdom ; for so
long as this hatred of the king subsisted I
could not be safe, and as it was not probable
that I could escape falling into his hands, I
accordingly went.

This is the full narrative of what you de-
sired, and of all the transactions which passed
relative to this affair. Nobody besides your-
self could have obtained it from me ; but
the obligations I owe you, throw me under
the necessity of refusing you nothing that is
in my power to do. As this is for yourself
alone, your indulgence will excuse all the
faults which must occur in this long recital.
The truth you may however depend upon,
attend to that, and overlook all deficiences.
My lord desires you to be assured of his
sincere friendship.

I am, with strongest attachment,
My dear Sister,
Yours, most affectionately,


TWEMLOW, JOHN, esq. of Hatherton Lodge, in the county of Chester, b. 1st
March, 1796, 5. to the family estates at the decease of his cousin in 1831, and has
become, by recent purchase, Lord of the Manor of Hatherton.

Cheshire in the reigns of Richard I., John,
and Henry III.

George Twemlow, esq. of Arclyd, in
Cheshire, b. in 1631, wedded in 1662, Mary
Lingard, grandaughter and sole heiress of
William Lingard, and had, with other issue,
who d. s. p.

John, of Arclyd, b. in 1664, m. in 1698,
Mary, daughter of James Poole, and
had a son,

George, of Arclyd, who d. in 1778.

Thomas, of Arclyd and Hatherton, b.

in 1665, m. in 1686, Anne, great-great

grandaughter of William Cholmeley,

of Norton, in the county of Salop,

and had one son, Thomas-Cholmeley,

who died in infancy.

William, of whom presently.

This family springs from LlDULPHUS Mr. Twemlow died in 1704. His third son,

Twemlow, of Twemlow, who was sheriff of William Twemlow, esq. of Arclyd and



Hatherton, b. in 1666, espoused Anne, sister
of Edward Wolfe, esq. of the latter place,
and had two sons,

John, his successor.
Thomas, of Alsager, from whom the
Twemlows of Alsager, and of the
Elms, near Betley, in Staffordshire,
He d. in 1732, and was s. by his elder son,
John Twemlow, esq. of Hatherton, b. in
1700, who m. first, in 1728, Martha, daugh-
ter of Peter Somerfield, esq. of Shaventon
and Weston Hall, by whom (who d. in
1730) he had an only daughter, Mary, who
d. unmarried. He wedded secondly, in
1732, Mary, daughter of George Wildigge,
esq. of Betley and Walgherton, by whom,
who d. in 1780, he had issue,

1. William, of Hatherton, his heir.

2. John, of Buerton, d. unra. in 1815.

3. Thomas, b. in 1744.

4. George, b. in 1746, and d. in 1763.

5. Richard, b. in 1751, and d. in 1799.
His widow subsequently espoused
Dr. Bellyse, of Audlem.

6. Anne, m. in 1761, to John Come, of

7. Elizabeth, m. in 1761 to John Hayes,
esq. of Betley.

Mr. Twemlow d. in 1762, and was s. by his
eldest son,

William Twemlow, esq. of Hatherton, b.
in 1734, who m. in 1762-3, Phoebe, daugh-
ter of Daniel Tomlinson, of Cholmeley and
Wrenbury Hall, and niece of John Tomlin-
son, esq. of Chorley Hall, in the county of
Chester. By this lady, who d. in 1806, he
had issue,

John, of Hatherton, b. in 1764, who m.
in 1799, Anne, daughter of John
Whitmore, esq. of Ridgwardine, in
the county of Salop, by whom, who
d. in 1815, he had an only daughter,
Mary, who wedded in 1823, James
Spark, esq. of Newcastle, and has


Anne, who d. unmarried in 1780.

Phoebe, b. in 1768, m. in 1810, to Rich-
ard Sutton, esq. of Knights' Grange
and Bickley Hall, who d. s. p. in

The second son,

William Twemlow, esq. of Hatherton
and Northwich, b. in 1770, wedded in 1794,
Mary-Anne, only daughter of Peter Pick-
ering, of Hartford, and grandaughter of

Online LibraryJohn BurkeA genealogical and heraldic history of the commoners of Great Britain and Ireland, enjoying territorial possessions or high official rank; but univested with heritable honours (Volume 1) → online text (page 52 of 112)