Season 1 – ‘The Shirleys’

Readers responded enthusiatically to the miniseries ‘The Graftons’ and hoped more might eventuate. Let’s meet ‘The Shirleys’.

Our series begins in the affluent Surrey town of East Sheen on 20 October 1650 when Robert and Catherine Shirley welcome the birth of their son, Robert junior. Robert junior was their fourth child, but there probably wasn’t much rejoicing as Robert senior, a royalist during the reign of Charles I, was imprisoned in the Tower of London by Oliver Cromwell. He died in the Tower not long after – probably poisoned – it was political expediency during the interregnum!  

However, with the Restoration of the monarchy in 1660, and having a persecuted royalist baronet for a father plus an education at Christ Church, Oxford, a career in politics in the House of Lords was a clear career pathway for young Robert. Naturally he took full advantage of his privileges. At the age of 19, having inherited a baronetcy from his infant nephew and gaining a Master of Arts from Oxford University, he was well on the way.

Robert was a dashing young man and had a stellar political career. At various times he was the High Steward of Stafford, Master of the Horse to the Queen Consort, Catherine of Braganza, Chief Bailiff for the Revenues, assistant lord cupbearer at the coronations of King James II and Queen Anne, and a longstanding member of the Privy Council.

Described by one of his peers as: ‘a very honest Man, a Lover of his Country, a great Improver of Gardening and Parking; a keen Sportsman, never was yet in Business, but is very capable; a tall, fair Man’ – Robert managed to skillfully negotiate his way through the turbulent world of 17^th and early 18^th century politics.

Robert was also clearly committed to procreating. At the age of 21, he married the heiress Elizabeth Washington and over the course of 22 years of marriage, they had seventeen children – ten sons and seven daughters. Elizabeth died following the birth of their youngest son, Laurence. Few of the children made it to adulthood but the National Gallery of Victoria has three marble busts by the Flemish sculptor, Peter Scheemakers (1691-1781), which provide images of Laurence and his two older sons, Laurence (the younger) and Washington.

Six years following the death of Elizabeth, Robert married Selina Finch and fathered a further ten children. After 18 years of further political and domestic service, Robert died aged 67 – possibly worn out from his various exertions!

Unfortunately, his children did not share his abilities and, of the surviving males, episodes of insanity are recorded. This brings us to his grandson, Laurence (the younger).

The busts by Scheemakers are remarkable for their classic depiction and the family likeness of all three men. With his prominent forehead, bushy arched eyebrows, focussed gaze and regal bearing, Laurence (the younger) appears thoughtful, gentle and wise beyond his 25 years of age. The drapery and reference to Roman busts adds to his impressive appearance.

This tells us more about Scheemakers and his process than it does about the sitter. Coming from a family of sculptors in Antwerp, Scheemakers trained in Denmark and Italy before becoming one of the pre-eminent sculptors in England, where he based himself for most of his working life. Scheemakers’ style and technique were heavily influenced by the classical sculptures he saw and sketched in Rome during two prolonged study periods. These were popular with the English aristocrats who were keen to be memorialised through both busts and tombs. Some of Scheemakers most famous works include his sarcophagi in Westminster Abbey – particularly the statue he created in honour of William Shakespeare.

By the time he made the busts of the Shirley family, Scheemakers was well-established with a large workshop and many apprentices. For a fascinating description of the streamlining and efficiency of Scheemakers’ workshop see the article by Ingrid Roscoe: ‘Peter Scheemakers’ in The Volume of the Walpole Society, vol. 61, 1999 at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/41829633?read-now=1&refreqid=excelsior%3A524f09b356d9e21b91653461dff61cc6&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents

It is interesting to compare Scheemakers’ ‘portrait’ of Laurence Shirley with a later image of him – an engraving from 1810. This depiction dates from 50 years after his death and is doubtless ‘coloured’ by the story of his life.

Laurence Shirley, 4^th Earl Ferrers was born in 1720 as the eldest son of The Honourable Laurence Ferrers. He came from ‘good stock’ on his mother’s side – his maternal grandfather was a Baronet and Tory politician who served four terms in Parliament and was an early ally of William of Orange.

However, Laurence had a decidedly wayward streak. At the age of twenty he quit Oxford University and moved to Paris to lead a life of debauchery. Back in England a few years later, in 1745 he inherited his title from his uncle who had been declared insane, removed from office and subsequently died.  Scheemakers’ bust dates from this time and by now, Laurence had fathered at least one illegitimate daughter to his girlfriend, Margaret, and three more daughters were to follow. But as illegitimate daughters don’t inherit titles and estates, in 1752 Laurence married 16 year old Mary Meredith, daughter of a baronet and Whig parliamentarian.

The marriage was far from happy. Laurence drank excessively, flew into violent rages, attacked Mary, savagely beat the servants and continued his relationship with Margaret. Mary left the marriage after six years and obtained a legal separation from Laurence by an Act of Parliament in 1758.

Receiving the legal separation was an extraordinary step for the time and indicated the degree of disturbance in the relationship. As part of the separation arrangements it was agreed that Mary should receive an income from the rents from some of the properties on Laurence’s estate. John Johnson, an old family steward was appointed to collect the rents for Mary.

Not surprisingly, Laurence hated Johnson and suspected that he was falsifying accounts, plotting against him and that he and Mary were involved in a relationship. When Johnson arrived to discuss the situation on 13 January 1760, Laurence accused Johnson of ‘various villainies’, ordered him to kneel and beg pardon, and then shot him with a pistol. Johnson died of the gunshot wound the next day.

Laurence attempted to evade capture but was apprehended by neighbours who found him armed with a blunderbuss, a brace of pistols and a dagger. A local coroner’s court returned a verdict of wilful murder against him and he was sent to the Tower of London to be tried by the House of Lords.

Given his family history, Laurence’s primary defence was one of insanity – after his family dissuaded him from saying that the shooting of Johnson was ‘justified’. Laurence cited other ‘acts of madness’ – including the time he attacked a servant with a sword for ‘improper care of a horse’. However, this behaviour was deemed normal and reasonable ‘action against a negligent servant’ by the Solicitor General, and his fellow peers decided that he was legally sane. Accordingly, he was found guilty of murder and sentenced to ‘hang by the neck until dead followed by dissection’ under the conditions of the Murder Act of 1752.

Laurence was appalled at the prospect of a public hanging at Tyburn (the death of a common criminal) and he petitioned the king to be allowed the ‘nobleman’s death’ of beheading. Unfortunately, beheading was only legally sanctioned for treason committed by a peer, so the sentence of hanging remained.

The hanging of a nobleman was a major public spectacle and a special new gallows was erected at Tyburn for the event the following week. There were even new black cushions for Laurence and the chaplain to kneel on to pray before the hanging.

For the hanging, Laurence wore his wedding suit, a light-coloured satin embroidered with silver saying: ‘he thought this at least as good an occasion for putting them on as that for which they were first made’. He was allowed the concession of driving to his execution in his own landau drawn by six horses. He was not, however, given a rope made of silk as was often later reported.

The drive to Tyburn took almost three hours and the entourage, including the sheriff, the mourning coach with Laurence’s friends, the hearse and a contingent of soldiers became part of the spectacle. On mounting the scaffold, Laurence knelt on the black cushions with the chaplain and said the Lord’s prayer. He then donned a white cap and was summarily hanged. According to Horace Walpole, who was in the crowd watching, it took four minutes for Laurence to die.

Laurence’s body was left to hang for the customary hour before being taken down and placed in a coffin for transport to the Surgeon’s Hall for dissection. A woodcut was made of the body in the coffin. After dissection the body was put on display for a further three days and then given to the family for burial at St Pancras church and later interred in the family vault.

Laurence Ferrers has the distinction of being the last peer hanged in England. It is amazing that the National Gallery of Victoria has a sculpture of this important individual. The current label on the Scheemakers’ sculpture reads:

I think he needs a more impressive epitaph!