Page:Biographical catalogue of the portraits at Weston, the seat of the Earl of Bradford (IA gri 33125003402027).pdf/25

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in Hertfordshire, with him and her eldest girl, while little Katey was left at Woburn to keep company with her aged grandfather.

No one was more alive to the noble and loveable qualities of Lady Russell than her dear lord's father, and he writes her a most tender and pathetic letter, evincing the deepest interest in her and her children, especially in the recovery of the young heir, whose illness had caused so much anxiety to the whole family. He addresses her as his dearest daughter, and expresses himself in the quaint and courteous, though somewhat stilted style of the day, hoping soon to have some comfortable tidings of her and her dear little ones, assuring her that his grandson is the subject of his constant prayers, and that while he has breath he remains her affectionate father and friend to command. Written from Woburn Abbey, the 7th day of June 1684; with a postscript: 'My dear love and blessing to my dear boy, and to Mistress Rachel. I am much cheered by Mistress Catherine's company; she is often with me, and looks very well.' It is interesting to remember that the respective ages of these two playfellows were nine, and eighty.

Lady Russell moved afterwards with her family to Southampton House, so full of memories, sweet and bitter, of early happiness, subsequent anxiety, and utter desolation. She was in London at the time of the King's death, and although she had no reason to regret Charles, yet to one whose interest was never deadened in the course of public affairs, there was little to be hoped for in the accession of James the Second. The trials of Algernon Sidney, Hampden, and others, who were associated with the memory of her lord, made her wounds bleed afresh, more especially the execution of the Duke of Monmouth, Lord Russell's most intimate friend. 'Never,' she writes, 'had a poor creature more awakers to quicken and revive her sorrow'; yet in alluding to Monmouth's fate she owns herself void of reason, that she should weep when she