The evidence for the dating of the Shepherd’s Monument suggests that it might belong to the mid 1750s rather than from the first period of work at Shugborough in 1748. The mood of the monument seems to match the peculiar mood of that decade, a mood that perhaps encouraged an interest in Stoicism and helped make Elizabeth Carter’s translation of Epictetus such a literary success.
A general interest in Stoicism with its acceptance of the vicissitudes of life and detachment from the world may have chimed with an atmosphere of fear and alarm.
England was struck by earthquakes.
Handel’s last oratorio, Theodora, had its first performance on the 16th March. It is now seen as one of Handel’s very greatest works, a uniquely meditative story of persecution and sacrifice. The fear of earthquakes kept the audiences away. Everyone who was able left London for their country houses. Handel knew it was one of his best pieces, and its failure must have been hard to bear. When two musicians asked for free tickets for a later performancce of Messiah Handel answered, according to Dr Burney:
“Oh your servant, meine Herren! you are damnable dainty! you would not go to Theodora – there was room enough to dance there, when that was perform!”(1)
In musical life this was the end of an era. This was not just the end of Handel’s career, it was the turning point in musical style. Handel’s baroque was soon superseded by new rococo and classical fashion.
The first earthquake in London was on March 2nd. Catherine Talbot wrote to Elizabeth Carter on March 9th, returning some sections of her Epictetus translation.
“Would you believe it, that my mind was so dissipated by a week or two of innocent gaiety, and my spirits by the return of perfect health grown so flippant and lively, that I felt not the awful terrors of the second shock on Thursday, nor could bring my mind to any degree of seriousness, till the conversation of wiser and stronger minds than mine, had yesterday talked down its levity. I was when it happened in a profound sleep, from which I was awaked by my mother’s screaming dreadfully. Alarmed with the thought of some more immediate home distress, the trembling of the house was over, before I could collect my thoughts to attend to it.”(2)
The “wiser and stronger minds” who had talked “down its levity” at the time of the first shock of the earthquake may have included Thomas Anson. An undated latter from Lady Anson to Catherine Talbot in Bedfordshire Record Office may come from this time. The archive catalogue suggests 1760, not a year for earthquakes:
“As to the earthquake Mr. Anson says it was a very trifling one” and he told her that “she may turn her thoughts to the expectation of a great Comet in a few years.”(3)
This one of several precious snippets that give us Thomas Anson’s tone of voice, understated, ironical, and humorous.
The Record Office suggests a date of ten years later, but 1750 was the great earthquake year, with further tremors in Warrington on April 4th, Spalding on August 23rd, and Northampton on 30th September.
Thomas Anson’s comment about the comet is particularly interesting. Portents may have been in the air in March 1750, but the idea of returning comets is a major feature of Thomas Wright’s “An Original Theory on the Universe”. The book was published in 1750, but if the conjectures about Thomas’s patronage of Wright are true and that the work on this book was the real reason for Wright’s involvement with Anson then Anson would have known of it two years earlier than its publication.
Curiously the last hint of a meeting between Thomas Wright and Elizabeth Carter in the Carter and Talbot correspondence is from a letter from April 5th 1750 which also refers to the earthquake. Catherine Talbot wrote to Elizabeth Carter:
“The churches were full all the morning; but at night the streets and open places were crowded. Many messages came hither to enquire where my Lord preached, and whether there were not to be prayers in the church at eleven. Thousands spent the night in Hyde Park, and Lincoln s Inn Fields. Those who did the least, sat up half the night, except some very few. The moon, stars, and aurora, were well contemplated—But there is something frightful in such a general panic……I was happy to learn from Mr. Wright that Miss Peggy Carter has not suffered by these alarms.”(4)
(Peggy was Elizabeth Carter’s oldest sister)
The earthquakes of 1750 were a very small scale prelude to one of the greatest natural disasters of recent history – the Lisbon earthquake of 1755 in which anything up to 100,000 people died. This event was a monumental shock to Europe, less than a year before the first known reference to the elegiac Shepherd’s Monument.
Elizabeth Carter began her work on translating the Stoic philosopher Epictetus in 1749, the year after Thomas Wright may have been working at Shugborough. Her translation circulated between friends throughout the 1750s and Stoicism caught the spirit of the times. She was supported in some technical details by James Harris, philosopher and musician friend of Thomas Anson and the publication of the book, which made her the first woman author to be able to live on her income as a writer, was supported by Anson’s friend and architectural rival, Lord Lyttelton.
Carter carefully explains in her introduction that she cannot agree with much of the Stoic philosophy because it is, to her, illogical or against Christian teachings. She is particularly eager to criticise Epictetus’s justification of suicide, for example. The simplest tenets of Stoicism, as explained in Epictetus, concern detachment from the world, and the acceptance of those things that are beyond one’s power to change.
“Require nothings to happen as you wish, but wish them to happen as they do happen, and you will go on well.” (5)
“Men are disturbed, not by things, but by the principles and notions which thet form concerning things.”
“These reasonings are unconnected: ‘I am richer than you. Therefore I am better’; ‘I am more eloquent than you, therefore I am better.’ connection is rather this: ‘ I am richer than you, therefore my property is greater than yours.’”
Perhaps this could have a relevance to the Shepherd’s Monument:
“Let death and exile, and all other things which appear terrible, be daily before your eyes, but chiefly death, and you will never entertain any abject thought, not too eagerly covet anything.”
This could be a commentary on the meaning of Poussin’s painting, the presence of the tomb in Arcadia and the reality of death. These examples would also have an extra significance to a family like the Ansons who had become immensely wealthy by an accident of war.
Poussin, working a century before the Ansons time, was influenced by Stoicism and painted pictures on openly Stoic themes as well as his philosophical Arcadian paintings. Elizabeth, Lady Anson might not have been aware of Poussin’s general interest in Stoicism but she had a peculiar interest of her own in his “The Shepherds of Arcadia”.
There are two quite different pictures by Poussin of this subject. An earlier one, now at Chatsworth, shows Shepherds finding a tomb, and beneath it river god holding an urn. The later Louvre version, which is the basis of the Scheemakers relief, shows shepherds and a philosophical shepherdess next to a tomb in a classical landscape.
In both versions the tomb has the inscription “Et in Arcadia Ego”, meaning “I (death) too am in Arcadia”. Even in this idyllic world you can’t escape death.
In 1747 artist and collector Jonathan Richardson’s collection was sold. The sale included a drawing of the first version of the Shepherds of Arcadia, possibly an original sketch by Poussin. This was in Lady Anson’s possession by 1750. It is still in the Earl of Lichfield’s private collection. (6)
It is not known whether Lady Anson bought the picture herself or whether it was originally bought by someone else. Perhaps it could have been bought by Thomas as a wedding present?
Lady Anson had shown an interest in art and in copying pictures before 1750. There was a room at Wimpole decorated with her copies.
Some years earlier she had copied a portrait of Dante, and her brother had written a poem in honour of the event. She was probably staying at Wrest Park at the time. Catherine Talbot, who had been staying there in the summer of 1745, wrote to Elizabeth Carter about advice given her by the artist Joseph Goupy who might have been engaged as an art tutor to the ladies in the absence of Thomas Wright.
ODE to the Hon. Miss YORKE, (afterwards Lady Anson,) on her copying a Portrait of Dante by Clorio. By her Brother, the (late) Hon. Charles Yorke, Esq. (7)
“FAIR artist! well thy pencil has essay’d
To lend a poet’s fame thy friendly aid;
Great Dante’s image in thy lines we trace;
And while the Muses train thy colours grace,
The Muse propitious on the draught shall smile,
Nor, envious, leave unsung the gen’rous toil.”
Jemima Grey, at Wrest Park, joked about her efforts at reading Dante and her fear of being stuck in one of the lower circles of hell forever. This was presumably at about the same time when her two friends, Catherine Talbot, Elizabeth Yorke, might have been at Wrest together.
Elizabeth Carter replied to Catherine Talbot that she had had the same trouble with the Divine Comedy:
“It is a great consolation to me to find you are not a perfect mistress of Dante, for I was greatly mortified in looking over it last summer to perceive it so much beyond my comprehension, whereas I now think it very marvellous I could
make out a single line.”(August 8th 1745) (8)
Sometime in the 1740s Hudson painted a portrait of Elizabeth Yorke, as she then was, holding the Dante drawing, which is now in the saloon at Shugborough. This is dated “before 1748” because it must date from before her marriage. The Dante drawing would suggest that it probably dates from 1745, the time when the young ladies were studying “The Divine Comedy”.
In August 1750 Lady Anson wrote to Jemima Grey that she was copying ‘5, 6, 7 or 8 hours a day’ ‘the Duke of Devonshire’s picture’, lent to her at her father’s London home, Carshalton. This is intriguing and Eileen Harris suggests she was copying the Chatsworth version of the Shepherds of Arcadia. This was certainly at Chatsworth after 1761, but it is not known when it was bought. The Duke had a house near Carshalton.
In another 1750 letter to Jemima Grey Lady Anson refers to sitting for her portrait. An almost, but not quite, identical copy of the Hudson portrait exists which is probably this 1750 portrait. It is ascribed to “School of Hudson”, so it could be a revised version of the earlier picture, not necessarily copied by Hudson himself. The only significant difference between the two pictures is that in the 1750 version Lady Anson is holding the drawing of Poussin’s Shepherds of Arcadia. This used to be at her family home, Wimpole, but it was sold to a private owner in 1967.
Assuming that this portrait, in which she holds the valuable Poussin drawing, was painted in 1750 it is not the only evidence that the theme of Poussin’s Shepherds was very much in Lady Anson’s mind in that year.
Lord and Lady Anson visited Shugborough in August 1750, via Wrest. By 8th September they were at Wimpole with Lady Grey and Mr Yorke. Lady Anson wrote to Thomas from Wimpole to thank him for her stay.
The first portion is in French and refers to Honore D’Urfe’s endless pastoral novel “Astree”. Lady Anson was probably reading the copy in the Shugborough library.
(Translation from Priory-of-sion.com)
Since I left the pleasant banks of your beautiful Lignon, I have not ceased to complain of jealous Time which with such swiftness has carried me away from the happy moments I spent. For sure, if there is one place on the turning Globe of this World where one spends days spun with Gold and Silk, it is among those flowery Vales, those shady hills, those clear rippling waters, and especially those very friendly Shepherds and Shepherdesses found there. It is so that one can admire nothing else in any other plains, not even the herds that wander there. I believe then that there is no need to tell you how vexed I am to be so far removed from such great happiness, and from you, my kind Shepherd, to whom I owe so much of what I have tasted of it: Alas, I wish I could be more worthy and more capable of making a similar return, but poor as I am, I can only assure you that as my heart merits better the name of Mirror of True Recognition, unlike the fountain in the gardens of the Palace of the Louvre, the one of the Fountain of True Love, such that if you looked into it you could see yourself, as lovers one could see each other in this beautiful Spring, before the bad Fairy cast a spell on it.
So far, Dear Sir, Astrée has helped me to thank for your kindest Entertainment, and tho’ the Language is drawn from Fiction, the Sentiments are most sincere. I think I have nothing to add to my acknowledgements, except mentioning that our journey was as prosperous as it was wrong way Bias (as you say at Bowls) and we made a very material discovery by it, wh. is, that we may prolong our next visit to you, by a day or two saved in the journey by Relays of Horses.
The same letter includes a reference to Sanderson Miller’s gothic ruin for Lord Hardwicke at Wimpole:
“Mr Miller has compleated his scheme for the Ruin to the approbation of every body, and when it is finished it is to be called Chicheley Castle, the auncient Seate of Archbishop Chicheley, in the reigne of Henry the 5th.”
This neatly fixes the date for that design, though it was over twenty years before it was built. Sanderson Miller is also a forgotten “third man” at Shugborough, having been asked for advice on the Classical Ruin across the river from the house, as well as on an unknown project in1752 – perhaps the building of the Pagoda. This does not mean he designed these things. He was heavily involved with Lord Lyttelton at Hagley, and was responsible for the construction of Stuart’s Doric Temple 1759. He may have continued to advise at Shugborough into the Stuart period – accentuating the close links between Hagley and Shugborough. (10)
Lady Anson’s Poussin drawing, featured in her 1750 portrait, is the “portrait” shaped first version. Scheemakers relief on the Shepherd’s Monument is based on the far more famous Louvre version, “Et in Arcadia Ego” which is originally “landscape” shaped. Scheemakers has had to squeeze the Poussin image into the “portrait” shape without altering the detail. He added an urn to the top of the tomb to make the tomb more recognisable in the medium of a white marble relief.
In detail Scheemakers is very close to the original, with the other major difference that his carving is mirror image.
This is understandable as most prints of Poussin’s picture available in the 18th century reversed the image, a common quirk of engravings in which the etcher has engraved a plate from a drawing and the image is reversed when printed. Eileen Harris gives an example of a reversed print, by Bernard Picart, in her article “Breaking the Poussin Code” in Apollo Magazine (2006).
There is a simple explanation for this complication of the changing shape of the image. If the Scheemakers relief was commissioned as a result of Lady Anson’s enthusiasm for Poussin and shepherds in 1750 it is very likely that the sculptor would not have had access to the version of the picture that Lady Anson knew and of which she owned a sketch.
The earlier Chatsworth version of the subject was little known, and in the private possession the Duke of Devonshire. Lady Anson had the drawing and she may have painted her own copy, but it is highly likely that Scheemakers would only have had access to prints of the Louvre version, such as the mirror image example illustrated in Eileen Harris’s article. He would surely have had instructions about the size and shape of the relief he had been commissioned to carve and so he would have had to adapt the Louvre version to the portrait format. He may not even have been aware that there were two different versions of the picture.
This does not help establish a definite date for the Scheemaker’s relief, except that it is reasonable to guess that the commission came sometime after 1750, the summer of Lady Anson’s Poussin and Shepherdess interest.
If this is the case it is unlikely that Thomas Wright designed any of “The Shepherd’s Monument” as such as his career had taken him in a different direction in 1750 and it is likely all his Shugborough work was planned in 1748. Of course he could have sketched one of his typical arbours or alcoves at a later date. It may or may not be a coincidence that the Wright design which is most similar to the hypothetical original Shepherd’s Monument, the inner rustic part, is the alcove sketch for Badminton from 1750. It is just possible that Scheemakers was asked to make a relief to fit an existed structure by Wright – though this begins to seem like a fantastically complicated theory considering that Stuart also had a hand in the final product some years later!
There are other clues to support the Stoic interpretation of the monument.
A letter by William Shenstone on December 23rd 1743 mentions an inscription at Lord Lyttelton’s Hagley Park that might be related to the Shepherd’s Monument:
“Mr Lyttelton has built a kind of alcove in his park, inscribed “Sedes Contemplationis” near his hermitage. Under the aforesaid inscription is “OMNIA VANITAS”, the sides ornamented with sheeps bones, jaws, sculls etc festoon wise. In a nitch over it, an owl.”(10)
This does seem very much like a precursor of the Shepherd’s Monument, in the garden that has closest links to Shugborough, and the “all is vanity” motto, though of biblical origin, matches well the Stoic mood. Over the years people have suggested that the cryptic inscription on the monument might have some connection with the theme of “omnia vanitas.”
The inscription on the Shepherds Monument shows eight letters separated by dots:
And below this on opposite sides:
The “D M” is a common feature of Roman funerary monuments (of which there were examples in the garden at Shugborough.) The letters stand for “Diis Manibus”, dedicated to the shades. This certainly implies that the monument as a whole should be seen as a memorial. The meaning of the other letters must, surely, relate to the significance of the relief and to the meaning of the monument as a whole.
If it is a memorial there are no clues to whom it may be dedicated. The 1767 poem implies a lost love, a Shepherdess, but there is no reason to suppose its anonymous author knew anything of its true meaning. The Cliffords’ History of Tixall says:
“the meaning of these letters Mr Anson would never explain and they still remain an enigma to posterity.”
There is no reason to doubt that Thomas Anson kept the answer to the enigma to himself.
A possible candidate for the subject of this complex memorial is the Ansons’ mother. There is no known date of her death and no memorial to her in Colwich church – but neither is there a memorial to their father, who died in 1720, or to Thomas himself.
In recent years there have been many attempts to come up with an explanation or translation of the inscription. Most depend on completely non-historical elements. Any convincing answer must tie in with what is known of the people responsible for it and their ideas. Of course there may be a startlingly mystical answer or a clue to an occult secret, but such things would go against everything that is known about Thomas Anson and his friends.
An interpretation that has often been quoted and needs to be put in it proper context is that the letters stand for the first line of a kind of verse:
“Out Your Own Sweet Vale, Alicia, Vanishes Vanity.
Twixt deity and man thou, shepherdess, the way.”
This tantalising and poetic fragment came from Margaret, Countess of Lichfield, grandmother of Patrick Lichfield and great-grandmother of the present Earl. It is a mystery in its own right, but is certainly not in any way a piece of historical evidence.
Lady Lichfield invited a friend, Oliver Morchard Bishop, to go through the Anson Papers in the early 1950s, and they still show his pencilled guesses of their dates. It seems likely that the confusion of the anonymous long poem with Anna Seward goes back to this time, as in a letter to me written in 1983 Lady Anson assumes the long poem to be by “The Swan of Lichfield.” She also believed that the Shepherd’s Monument was “put up to Lady Anson the Admiral’s wife by Thomas Anson after she died.” This is obviously impossible as the earliest reference to the monument is in Lady Anson’s letter of September 20th 1756, over three years before her death.
Unfortunately Lady Lichfield’s comment on the “Alicia” fragment poses more questions than it answers:
“The poem was told me as a child by the curate at my home Whillington in the valley of the Lune in Westmoreland, Yorkshire and Lancashire. A quite lovely part of the world. Do you know it? I was astounded when the letters fitted even to the U for You. In those days (& before) lovers used to scratch on windows with a diamond ‘ I L U’ that meant ‘ I love you.’ So the U is right for it means ‘you’ in lovers language.
“Now this Alicia story id a lovely story & a long one & belongs to the Latin & Greek scholars who knew how the Romans were weaned from worshipping their Gods and Goddesses to becoming Christians. In my youth the clergy were great scholars & this curate was no exception, in fact he was brilliant. He was a wonderful storyteller & kept us enthralled. He told us there are 7 hills outside Rome & on one of them was a Shepherdess called Alicia who’s name means “the light of all happiness.” To follow her you had to give up all the vanities of the world & be simple, pure, tender & loving & guide & guard her flock from all evil. Selfless devotion was the service of this Shepherdess Alicia. Thus were the Christian virtues taught the Romans by turning their Gods and Goddesses into Christians by these means. No scholar ever agrees that my childlike story of Alicia can be the answer. Perhaps it is too good to be true and too simple. Who will ever know?
“But I tell it to you. The V V at the end of the line jogged my memory & Vanishes Vanity came to me & then the whole line & when each word fitted each letter I was astounded. I tell it you for what it is worth & make of it what you will.”
This seems to be clear enough but no-one, in spite of every effort and the resources of the internet, has ever found a story of a shepherdess called Alicia on the hills of Rome. This letter implies that Lady Lichfield remembered actual lines of verse but a conversation with Patrick, Lord Lichfield suggested that she had invented words to match the letters. This possibility is supported to a letter she wrote to Paul Smith in 1987:
“…. one day I was showing some friends round the garden and when we came to the Shepherd monument I told them the story about Alicia the Shepherdess and suddenly I looked at the letters and the penny dropped, and I quoted “Out of your own sweet vale Alicia vanish vanity twixt Deity and Man, thou Shepherdess the way”. I was absolutely astounded and positively shaken that suddenly these words had come to me. The people who I was showing it to were rather dull and not very impressed with anything, so I could not go into it further with them, but when they went I told my husband and he said to me ‘Are you sure you aren’t making it up?’ and I said ‘NO, how could I have, it was all so quick and spontaneous and vivid.’”(11)
Whether or not there ever was a story of a shepherdess Alicia told by the curate (identified as Mr Prince in this letter) it seems that the lines were not remembered but invented to fit the letters. This is the only reasonable explanation. The two lines make no sense as poetry in terms of metre or even grammar. This story, though mysterious in its own right, is a red herring and not in any way a piece of historical evidence.
Lady Lichfield’s friend, the author Morchard Bishop, (his real name was Oliver Stonor) suggested another interpretation that has been quoted at various times: (12)
“Optimae Uxoris Optimae Sororis Viduus Amantissimus Vovit Virtutibus.”
This translates as:
“Best of wives, best of sisters, a most loving widower vows virtuously.”
This begins in the style of a standard Roman funerary inscription but it makes little sense. If it were authentic it would be difficult o imagine who was writing. The Ansons’ mother may have been “best of wives and best of sisters” given her sister’s marriage to Lord Macclesfield, but who would the “most loving widower” be? Assuming the inscription is of the same date as the relief it can’t have been George Anson as Elizabeth was alive until 1760. Could Thomas have had a secret marriage and have been a widower? It’s possible but unlikely. Morchard Bishop suggested this in a letter to Lady Lichfield in 1951 and there is no suggestion that it is anything other than his own invention.
The only solution to the inscription which fits everything that is known of the background and history of the monument was suggested by Steve Regimbal, an American lawyer and playwright.
He noticed the eight letters of the inscription are the initial letters of a Latin translation of “Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher, all is vanity.” (13)
The Latin translation, from the English, is:
ORATOR UT OMNIA SUNT VANITAS AIT VANITAS VANITATUM
This may seem odd at first but this is an absolutely correct translation into Latin of the text in the King James Bible, as distinct from the text of the vulgate Latin Bible. “Orator” is the most likely word to come up with for “Preacher”, though the Latin bible has “Ecclesiastes”, the title of the biblical book the phrase comes from. “Ait” is the formal “spoke” or “declared” which gives extra emphasis in this sentence.
I have confirmed with two classics authorities that this is a correct translation from English into Latin.
This phrase matches the Stoic mood of the monument and the Poussin picture perfectly. It is also directly related to Lord Lyttelton’s “Omnia Vanitas” monument which Shenstone described long before the Shepherd’s Monument was built. Thoma Anson was a close associate of Lord Lyttelton who was, in turn a supporter of Elizabeth Carter and James Harris.
It may be that the Latin was produced in this way to be more cryptic, or it may be that there was no Latin Bible at hand. On the whole it seems a typical piece of 18th century mystification. Thomas Wright, for example, wrote of a Latin inscription in his own home written in Greek to make it more difficult to read.
This may not be the final answer but it is so appropriate it hardly seems worth expending any more energy on the puzzle unless some other useful clue should turn up.
If this is the answer it may be that the Shepherd’s Monument is not a memorial to any individual but a more generally philosophical conception.
To sum up-
The ideas and meaning of the Shepherds Monument seem to belong to the period after 1750, the years of earthquakes, of the fashion for Stoicism and of Lady Anson’s interest in Poussin.
It is hard to remove Thomas Wright from the equation altogether though there is no evidence that the monument (as such) existed in 1747/8 and itis unlikely that Thomas Wright ever visited Shugborough after this date. The inner part looks like a Wright alcove. Its stylistic similarity to other Wright designs was one of the clues that led Eileen Harris to identify Wright as the architect of the first phase of the developments at Shugborough. It is possible that the design began with a Wright drawing of an alcove, like his sketch for Badminton. There is a slight possibility that Scheemakers had been commissioned to produce the relief several years before 1756 and that it was originally intended to be placed in this hypothetical Thomas Wright alcove – but this seems to be anover complicated theory.
On the whole the monument seems to belong to the 1750s – and most probably from near the time of its earliest known mention in 1756. If it does date from 1756 or thereabouts, with or without an element of Wright in it, could it be that its final form is really the work of James Stuart – usually thought to have appeared on the scene several years later? If this strange structure could be proved to be the work of the leading architect of the Greek Revival it would have a whole new layer of historic significance.
1) Quoted in many sources, including the Wikipedia article on Theodora.
2) A Series of Letters Between Mrs. Elizabeth Carter and Miss Catherine Talbot vol. 1 (Rivington, 1809) Available on Google Books
3) From the list of letters from Lady Anson to Jemima, Countess Grey. Bedfordshire Records Office.
4) A Series of Letters Between Mrs. Elizabeth Carter and Miss Catherine Talbot vol. 1 (Rivington, 1809) Available on Google Books
5) Epictetus: Moral discourses, enchiridion and fragments, translated and introduced by Elizabeth Carter (Everyman’s Library,Dent, 1910)
6) The source for Lady Anson’s interest in Poussin is – Eileen Harris: Cracking the Poussin Code (Apollo Magazine,6th August 2007. Available on-line.)
7) A select collection of poems with notes. The sixth volume. (J Nichols, London, 1780) Available on Google Books.
8) A Series of Letters Between Mrs. Elizabeth Carter and Miss Catherine Talbot vol. 1 (Rivington, 1809) Available on Google Books
9) Staffordshire Records Office. Anson Papers. D615/P (S)/1/3. The English Translation is from http://www.priory-of-sion.com/
10) William Shenstone: The Letters of William Shenstone (Basil Blackwell, 1939)
12) Staffordshire Record Office. Anson Papers. D 615/P (A)/ 26