This, the last posting of the Stothard sequence, contains four names of import: Ten Broeke, the Earl of Moira, Lord Rancliffe, and the Stadtholder.
This tight little group, standing immediately behind the Prince Regent (Dr Boyes makes up the quintet) tells its own story about perceived importance in the eyes of Stothard. Or possibly, if the portrait represented a single event, how they perceived their own importance at the time. If this were a sort of historical photograph, their positioning by design or a degree of elbow-jostling infers a status on the individuals. The closer you were to the future king at an event might indicate how close you were to the future king. The positioning is highly likely to have been choreographed in a real event. If it were a composite image of a number of similar events, quite possibly Stothard was instructed where to place people. On the other hand, the darker colours are enhanced by the splendid scarlet of the uniform jacket so for artistic licence it works. We are not party to all the preparation for event or image so we can only speculate whether deeper meaning can be read into this grouping or not.
Anthony Ten Broeke was certainly important in the School’s history. A founder of the Caledonian Lodge, Ten Broeke was also one of the nine freemasons who established the Royal Cumberland Freemasons’ School in 1788. Born in 1736, he would have been in his prime at the time. His surname is Dutch in origin and until very recently there was a serving Dutch politician of that name: Hans Ten Broeke. The surname appears to derive from ‘on the marsh’ – a broeke is a marshy area or a creek and, of course, is linked to the English word ‘brook’. So Anthony Ten Broeke would be Tony Marsh or Tony Brook perhaps.
This portrait of him is in the Library of Freemasonry having been presented in 1938 and since restored. It portrays him as Master of the Caledonian Lodge which he became in 1766.
The Caledonian Lodge itself has a strong association with the School. It has long supported the School financially – until 1978 when the present day school became independent – particularly when capital expenditure was required to meet the costs of development. For example, when the School moved from its first site in Somers Place East to its second, and first purpose-built establishment, in St George’s Fields, Southwark, the Caledonian lodge was on hand with support. The new site included a Committee Room
so meetings no longer had to be held in coffee houses etc. Said committee room required furnishing so the lodge presented to the School a fine set of 25 chairs which can still be found at the modern day School.
One of these chairs, known as the King’s Chair, is the one used by any visiting royalty and has a label attached to it identifying the occasions when it was thus used.
Anthony Ten Broeke left a masonic dynasty in the lodge, with the Master in its 250th year, Graham Ten Broeke, continuing the family tradition. Indeed, a celebration was held at the School to mark this occasion as an indication of the longevity of the association.
Ten Broeke died in 1812 and is buried in Austin Friars Churchyard (Nederlandse Kerk Londen) in the North Aisle. This church was destroyed by fire in 1862 and its replacement destroyed in the Blitz. The current church on this site was built in the 1950s.
The Earl of Moira also has a connection with the School that goes beyond the individual depicted by Stothard. When the School moved to its current site in 1934, the eight boarding houses were given names that reflected the School’s history. One of those names was Moira. Francis Edward Rawdon-Hastings, 1st Marquess of Hastings, was known as The Earl of Moira between 1793 and 1816 – so whichever of the dates we select for the Stothard portrait, he was the Earl of Moira in it. He had served with British forces during the American Revolutionary War and in 1794 during the French Revolution, hence his depiction in military uniform.
He married late in life (he was fifty at the time) and, as this was on 12 July 1804, he was single at the time of the portrait. He and his wife, Flora Campbell, Countess of Loudoun, had six children. It would appear to have been a love match as, after his death at sea off Naples in 1824 and following his earlier directions, she arranged for his right hand to be cut off and preserved, to be buried with her when she died. He had been serving as Governor of Malta and had been on board the ship to return to his wife when he died. His body was laid to rest in Hastings Gardens, Valletta which is named for the Earl. His hand was eventually interred, clasped with hers, in the family vault at Loudoun Kirk.
He had inherited Donnington Hall from an uncle and then had it rebuilt in a Gothic style at about the date of the Stothard portrait. Requisitioned at the start of World War I by the British government and turned into a prisoner of war camp, it is now the headquarters of the Norton Motorcycle Company.
Lord Rancliffe, placed under the guardianship of the Earl of Moira when his father died, was George Augustus Henry Anne Parkyns (1785-1850). He was given his first two forenames in honour of his godfather, later George IV. So his position in the Stothard portrait is explained by his connections to both the Earl of Moira and the Prince Regent. Strictly, however, he should not have been referred to as Lord Rancliffe in the portrait as he did not succeed to the baronetcy until 1806. However, the Right Hon The Lord Rancliffe is how he appears on the outline image.
On his 21st birthday he came into his inheritance which included an annual income of £21,000. A sum not to be sniffed at now, it was the equivalent of £5.5 million in today’s money. He also inherited the delightfully named Bunny Hall in Nottinghamshire which had been in the family since 1574.
Actually, the name Bunny is nothing to do with cute furry creatures but is derived from Old English Bune, meaning reed. In White’s Directory of Nottinghamshire, 1853 it is spelled Bunney.
In October 1807 – so still a very young man – Rancliffe married Lady Elizabeth Mary Theresa Forbes, daughter of the Earl of Granard, and also niece to the Earl of Moira. The marriage was not successful and they separated, although did not divorce. He returned to Nottinghamshire (from Paris) and there he made the acquaintance of Harriet Burtt. At that time, she was married to a GP, considerably older than she, who was confined to an asylum. Harriet became resident at Wymeswold (Leicestershire), under Rancliffe’s protection, and then later went to live with him at Bunny.
Lord Rancliffe died at Bunny Hall on 1st November 1850, after a long illness. His will caused great consternation in the family because it said:
“I give Bunny Hall to Mrs Burtt for her life, and afterwards to whosoever she may appoint to inherit the said estates. I give Mrs Burtt, for her use entirely, all the goods, furniture, and pictures, with one exception; and I give her all my plate, together with the plated silver tureen and dishes with my crest. I also leave my silver tureen presented to me by the electors of Nottingham, to Mrs Burtt; and I also leave my horses and carriages at her entire disposal.”
Eleven years later, the will was contested by his brother-in-law but to no avail. Harriet Burtt was left in full enjoyment of the estate which at the time had an income of £7000 a year (equiv. of about £250,000 today).
Mrs Burtt bequeathed the estate to her niece, Arabella Hawksley, who married Mr Robert Wilkinson Smith in 1898. When Robert died, he left the greater part of his large fortune for the benefit of Nottingham’s poor widows and spinsters.
Our final member of the Stothard group is His Serene Highness, the Stadtholder, or William V, Prince of Orange. The use of the word ‘Serene’ here is to mean supreme or royal rather as ‘Sublime’ (Ambassador to the Sublime Porte) meant principal. Queen Mary, who opened the School on its present site, was born ‘Her Serene Highness Princess Mary of Teck’ but during WWI, George V revoked recognition of this style of title for members of the family living in Britain.
William was the last Stadtholder of the Dutch republic. Born in 1748, he went into exile in London in 1795 under the title of Prince of Nassau-Orange. On his death in 1806, that title was inherited by his son William, who returned to the Netherlands in 1813 and became the first Dutch monarch from the House of Orange (William I). As a European royal, it does not come as a surprise to find that William V was related to the Prince Regent as he was George III’s cousin.
The title Stadtholder is roughly comparable to England’s historic title Lord Lieutenant and was elected rather than inherited. However, In 1747 the office had been made hereditary. William IV was the first of these and William V the last. However, what would have been William VI, the Stadtholder, became instead William I, the first King of the Netherlands. His direct descendants still hold the title (currently Willem-Alexander).
We began this little group with one person of Dutch descent and, rather neatly, we end with another. The portrait, so familiar to the School, has taken on a new life in the identification of many of the people portrayed in it. It is now not just Ruspini leading the children before assembled Freemasons but represents a moment in time recorded for future generations to witness the extraordinary breadth of support the School received.