JAN. 26. 1850.] 
NOTES AND QUERIES. 
199 
wards. Dr. Anster, in exhibiting the book, showed 
that the remains of silver clasps had been de- 
stroyed, and a part of the leather of the covers at 
each side was torn away, seemingly for the pur- 
pose of removing some name on a coat of arms 
with which it had been once marked; and this he 
accounted for by the belief that at the period of 
the French Revolution the persons in whose cus- 
tody they were, being fearful of the suspicions 
likely to arise from their possession of books with 
royal arms on them, tore off the covers, and sent 
the books to St. Omer’s. ‘The after-fate of the 
larger books was, that they were burned; some 
small ones, we are distinctly told, were saved from 
this fate, but seem to have been disregarded, and 
all trace of them lost. The Abbé Waters —a col- 
lateral descendant of Lucy Waters, the Duke of 
Monmouth’s mother —was the person with whom 
George IV. negotiated for the Stuart papers, and 
from whom the volumes which have since appeared 
as Clarke’s Life of James the Second were ob- 
tained; and it is from the Abbé Waters we have 
the account of the destruction of King James’s 
autograph papers. Dr. Auster showed, written 
on the inner cover of this volume, the words, 
“ Baron Watiers” or “ Watrers.” 
As to the identity of the book, Dr. Anster 
quoted several passages from contemporary authors 
to test their account of the contents of the 
“ album ” with those of the book he was describ- 
ing. In the Harleian Miscellany, vol. vi. p. 323., 
it is stated in Sir John Reresby’s memoirs, that 
“out of his [Monmouth’s] pocket were taken 
books, in his own handwriting, containing charms 
or spells to open the doors of a prison, to obviate 
the danger of being wounded in battle, together 
with songs and prayers.” Barillon describes the 
book in what is nearly a translation of this — “ Il 
y avoit des secrets de magie et d’ enchantment, 
avec des chansons des recettes pour des maladies 
et des prieres.” Again, in a note by Lord Dart- 
mouth to the modern editions of Burnet’s Own 
Times, we have the following statement : — 
“My uncle, Colonel Wiliiam Legge, who went in 
the coach with him {[ Monmouth] to London asa guard, 
with orders to stab him if there were any disorders on 
the read, showed me several charms that were tied 
about him when he was taken, and his table-book, 
which was full of astrological figures that nobody could 
understand; but he told my uncle that they had been 
given to him some years before in Scotland, and he 
now found they were but foolish conceits.” 
The actual contents of the manuscript volume 
show a great resemblance to these descriptions. 
The most curious passages which it contains are 
the duke’s memorandums of his journeys on two 
visits to the Prince of Orange, in the year pre- 
vious to his last rash adventure. His movements 
up to the 14th of March, 1684-85, are given. ‘The 
entries do not seem to be of much moment; but 
they may accidentally confirm or disprove some 
disputed points of history. There is an entry 
without a date, describing the stages of a journey 
in England, commencing with London and Hamp- 
stead: it ends with Toddington. This forms a 
strong link in the chain of identity; for Tod- 
dington is a place remarkable in the history of the 
duke. Near it was the residence of Lady Hen- 
rietta Maria Wentworth, baroness (in her own 
right) of Nettlestead, only daughter and heir of 
Thomas Lord Wentworth, grandchild and heir of 
the Earl of Cleveland. Five years before the 
execution, her mother observed that, despite the 
duke being a married man, her daughter had, 
while at court, attracted his admiration, and she 
hurried her away to Toddington. In 1683, after 
the failure of the Rye-House Plot, Monmouth was 
banished from the royal presence, and it was to 
Toddington he retired. When, on retracting the 
confession which he had made on the occasion, he 
was banished the kingdom, the companion of his 
exile was Lady Henrietta Wentworth. 
“TI dwell on this,” said Dr. Anster, “because the 
accidental mention of Toddington seems to autben- 
ticate the book: the name of Lady Henrietta Went- 
worth does not occur in it, and the persons in whose 
hands the book has been since it was purchased in 
Paris do not seem to have noticed the name of Tod- 
dington, or to have known that it had any peculiar 
relation to the duke’s history. It occurs twice in the 
book — once in the itinerary, and again in a trifling 
and unmetrical song which is probably the duke’s own 
composition; written probably on the eve of his flight 
with his romantic but guilty companion to Holland: — 
««« With joy we leave thee, 
False world, and do forgive 
All thy false treachery, 
For now we'll happy live. 
We'll to our bowers, 
And there spend our hours ; 
Happy there we'll be, 
We no strifes can see; 
No quarrelling for crowns, 
Nor fear the great one’s frowns ; 
Nor slavery of state, 
Nor changes in our fate. 
From plots this place is free, 
There we'll ever be; 
We'll sit and bless our stars 
That from the noise of wars 
Did this glorious place give 
(Or did us Toddington give) 
That thus we happy live.’” 
In Macaulay's history we find that the latest 
act of the duke on the scaffold, before submitting 
to the stroke of the executioner, was to call his 
servant, and put into the man’s hand a toothpick- 
case, the last token of ill-starred love. “ Give it,” 
he said, “ to that person!” After the description of 
Monmouth’s burial occurs the following affecting 
passage : — 
