Protestant Exiles from France/Volume 2 - Book Third - Chapter 14 - Section III
III. Edward, Earl Ligonier, K.B.
Edward Ligonier, the reputed son of Colonel Francis Ligonier, was born in 1740. His valiant uncle’s affection and influence ensured his prosperous career, though he himself was evidently a man of ability and conduct.
We find him holding the rank of captain in the army, and lieutenant in the 1st Foot Guards (Lord Ligonier’s regiment) at a very early age. He served in the “Seven Years’ War,” during five campaigns, under Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, chief commander of the allied forces. His Serene Highness requested King George II. to send him two British aides-de-camp, and Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzroy and Captain Edward Ligonier were selected.
Captain Ligonier was the bearer of the despatches to the British Government announcing the glorious victory of Minden, which took place on the 1st August 1759. In the general order published in the camp next day, Captain Ligonier was one of the officers named by Prince Ferdinand among those “whose behaviour he most admired.” There was also an implied censure on Lord George Sackville. It is well known that Lord George Sackville was tried by court-martial, and cashiered. Young Ligonier had to give evidence against him.
The facts were these. The heat of the day had been borne by the infantry and the artillery, and the French under Marshal Contades were thrown into disorder. The Prince sent his Hessian aide-de-camp (Captain Wintzingerode) to order the cavalry under Lord George to advance. His Lordship expressed some hesitation as to the interpretation of the order. The Prince, perplexed and impatient at the delay, despatched Ligonier with a repetition of the order — “Bring up the cavalry, there is a very fine opportunity of gaining a great deal of credit, the enemy being all in disorder.” The Duke of Richmond, a few minutes after, rode up to the Prince, and recommended a charge of cavalry. And then Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzroy asked His Serene Highness’s leave to go and bring up the British cavalry, which was granted. Fitzroy hastening at full gallop met Wintzingerode, and asked, “Why does the cavalry not advance? His Highness is in the greatest impatience.” In the meantime Ligonier had delivered his message to Lord George, who made difficulties as to the direction of the advance movement. Ligonier said “to the left” — but Lord George was not satisfied. Then Fitzroy arrived and used the phrase “the British cavalry;” the perplexed Sackville saw another difficulty — why divide the cavalry? — in short, he would go and speak to the Prince before giving an order. His Lordship’s aide-de-camp, Lieutenant-Colonel Sloper, said aside to Ligonier, “For God’s sake, sir, repeat your orders to that man, that he may not pretend not to understand them, for it is near half an hour ago that he has received orders to advance, and yet we are still here; but you see the condition he is in.” Sloper explained to the court-martial that he meant by the last remark that “Lord George Sackville was alarmed to a great degree.” His Lordship said, “Captain Ligonier, your orders are contradictory.” Ligonier replied, “In numbers, my Lord; but their destination is the same.” The Prince afterwards sent his orders to Lord Granby (the second in command of the right wing) to advance, and both he and Sackville did then advance; but the delay had lost them the opportunity of contributing to the victory.
On the 15th August 1759 Edward Ligonier obtained a company in the 1st Foot Guards which gave him the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel in the army. He gave his evidence at the court-martial as Lieutenant-Colonel Ligonier on March 8th and 29th, 1760. We hear no more of him until the next reign. In April 1763, retaining the same regimental rank, he was made a Colonel in the army, and Aide-de-camp to King George III.
In the following August he had the honour of being sent to Madrid as Secretary of the British Embassy to the Court of Spain. The Spanish king was Charles III. The heir-apparent to the throne, whose title was the Prince of the Asturias, was also named Charles, but was not yet out of his teens. A singular interview which Colonel Ligonier had with this young man is the only memento of his diplomatic career. The Royal Family of Spain, being Bourbons, did not altogether sympathise with the Spanish grandees in their family pride, which secretly despised French blood even of regal dye. Yet Spanish etiquette made these nobles give unquestioning subjection to royal will. The Prince of the Asturias contrived a plan for making their haughtiness and stateliness appear absurd. One morning Colonel Ligonier was waiting in an antechamber for admission to the young prince, when he was astonished to see several grandees retire from their audiences one after another, each with a paper fool’s cap on his head, and walking in court-dress with humiliating gravity. After taking a cautious look at them, the Colonel thought of himself, and asked one of the ministers in waiting, “Is a similar compliment in store for me? — because the king, my master, would be far from pleased if I were to submit to such an indignity.” The minister said he would enquire, went into the prince’s chamber, and returned with the reply, that the Colonel must be crowned like the other visitors of His Royal Highness. “Then,” said Ligonier, “I present my respects to His Royal Highness and wish him a very good morning;” having said this, he walked away. The Spaniard called out quickly, “Nay, nay, stay a little, and I will step in again to the Prince.” He did so, and returned with a message implying that the British diplomatist might banish his apprehensions. Ligonier having been admitted for his audience, the prince conversed with him for some time with the greatest affability. The royal stripling, who stood with his back to the fire-place, always kept one hand behind his back. Observing this, Ligonier resolved to keep a sharp look-out, which he did. in due time he approached to take leave, and made a very low bow. At the moment when he was raising up his head, he saw the Prince rapidly bring forward his hidden hand, holding a fool’s-cap for our Colonel’s summary coronation. But he was too good an officer to be unprepared. With an adroit jerk he struck the paper crown out of the Prince’s hand to the other end of the room, made a second unexceptionable bow, and retired. The merry Prince lived to ascend the throne as Charles IV.
On the 17th November 1764, Colonel Ligonier was appointed one of the grooms of the bedchamber to William Henry, Duke of Gloucester. It appears that he had a pension of £1000 a year. Earl Temple writes- on 25th August 1766, “Lord Ligonier has got the pension for his nephew increased from £1000 to £1500 per annum, and a promise of the second regiment that becomes vacant (the first being engaged to Colonel Clinton).” On 16th December 1766, he married, at Paris, Penelope Pitt, daughter of Lord Rivers (then George Pitt, Esq., M.P.). He divorced this lady on 7th November 1771. From the proceedings it appears that he had inherited his uncle’s house in North Audley Street, and also Cobham Park. When he discovered that his wife had been the victim of a seducer, he hastened from Cobham Park to London. On getting out of his chaise, he immediately went from his house towards Bond Street, and in Pond Street he took a sword from a sword-cutler’s, and afterwards went to the Opera House and found Count Alfieri, whom he called out. As they walked to the Green Park he drew from the Count a confession of his guilt. In the Park they fought a duel. Ligonier was only yielding a formal compliance with the world’s code of honour, and he allowed the Count to make a furious attack, which he skilfully parried, being a splendid swordsman. Alfieri says, “He only parried my blows; his aim was not to kill me. At last he made a thrust and wounded me between the elbow and the wrist; he then lowered the point of his sword, and said he was satisfied.” All the world admitted that Ligonier had been an excellent husband, and his wife’s relations took his side. She is remembered through Gainsborough’s beautiful portrait; the National Portrait Gallery catalogue is mistaken in calling her a Countess; she was only Viscountess Ligonier. His uncle, Earl Ligonier, had died in 1770, when (by the remainder of the patent of 1762) Colonel Ligonier had become an Irish Viscount, but not an Earl.
Edward, Viscount Ligonier, became Colonel of the 9th Foot on the 8th August 1771. On the 14th December 1773, he married a second time. Old Ligonier’s first colleague in the representation of Bath was Robert Henley, who suddenly rose from being Solicitor-General to the Prince of Wales to be his Majesty’s Attorney-General, became Keeper of the Great Seal, with the title of Baron Henley, and afterwards (in 1764) Lord Chancellor, with the higher title of Earl of Northington. His son was the second and last earl, and a daughter and co-heir, Lady Mary Henley, became the wife of Edward, Viscount Ligonier.
Lord Ligonier was promoted to the rank of Major-General, 19th September 1775. He wished to be an Earl, and accordingly in 1776 (19th July) the King granted him “the state, degree, title, style, dignity, and honour of Earl Ligonier of Clonmel, in the kingdom of Ireland.” He became a Lieutenant-General on the 29th August 1777. In Beatson’s List of Knights of the Bath, the following notice occurs:—
“1781, Edward, Earl Ligonier, Lieutenant-General, died before installation.” His death took place on the 14th of June 1782.
Thus the Earl Ligonier expired at the early age of forty-two. His library was sold in 1783 by Joseph White, Auctioneer in Holborn. He had no children by either marriage. On the 18th November 1785, the Countess Ligonier gave her hand to a second husband, Thomas Noel, LL.D., the second and last Viscount Wentworth. Cobham Park was sold to the Earl of Carhampton.
*⁎* Frances, sister of Edward, Earl Ligonier, was born in 1742. In a description of a fancy-ball, where she appeared as Minerva, she is described as “a very elegant figure.” Her marriage removed her from London assemblies to the distant and stilly north, her husband being Colonel Thomas Balfour of Elwick, in the Orkney Islands. Her children were Mary (born 1778); Captain John Edward Ligonier Balfour, of the 9th Foot (born 11th January 1780), who was killed at Alkmaer, in Holland, 19th September 1799; Captain William Balfour, R.N., of Trenabie, Vice-Lieutenant of Orkney (born 1781, died 1846). Mary was married in 1798 to the Rev. Alexander Brunton, afterwards Doctor of Divinity, and Professor of Hebrew in the University of Edinburgh. Mrs. Brunton, by her celebrity as the author of works of serious fiction, specially of “Self-Control” and “Discipline,” has saved her mother’s and her husband’s names from oblivion. The date of her mother’s death is not preserved; the lamented “Mary” died on the 19th December 1818, aged forty.
From the manly and pathetic memoir by her husband, I select those sentences which connect her with the Ligoniers:—
Mary was born in the Island of Burra in Orkney, 1st November 1778. . . . Her mother had early been left an orphan to the care of her uncle, Field-Marshal the Earl Ligonier, and had been trained rather to the accomplishments which adorn a court than to those which are useful in domestic life. She was, however, a person of great natural acuteness and of very lively wit; and her conversation, original though desultory, had no doubt considerable influence in raising her daughter’s mind. She was assiduous, too, in conveying the accomplishments which she herself retained; and Mary became, under her mother’s care, a considerable proficient in music, and an excellent French and Italian scholar. From these languages she was much accustomed to translate; and there is no other habit of her early life which tends, in any degree, to account for the great facility and correctness with which her subsequent compositions were written. . . . Before 1798 Viscountess Wentworth proposed that Mary, her god-daughter, should reside with her in London. What influence this alteration might have had on her after-life is left to be matter of conjecture. She preferred the quiet and privacy of a Scotch manse. We were married in her twentieth year.
The above are Dr. Brunton’s words. He has also printed some of his wife’s correspondence, and of her journals during tours in England. There are letters to her mother, dated 6th October 1802 and 21st November 1809; to her brother, Captain William Balfour, of the dates 9th September 1813, 21st April and 27th October 1815, and December 1816; and to her brother’s wife of date 21st March 1812; two dated 17th January 1818, and her last, dated 22nd October 1818. In the first letter to her brother she humorously consoles him for the small dimensions of his baby’s corporeal frame-work:— “Like you, like Caesar, Alexander the Great, myself, and others, our friend may hide a capacious soul in a diminutive body.” In one of the last letters she ever wrote there is the following beautiful sentiment:— “Life is too short and uncertain to admit of our trifling with even the lesser opportunities of testifying good-will. The flower of the field must scatter its odours to-day. To-morrow it will be gone.”