Countess of Derwentwater

Amelia Matilda Mary Tudor Radclyffe,^[1] soi-disant Countess of Derwentwater, was a 19th-century claimant to the estates of the Earls of Derwentwater. She claimed to be the granddaughter of John Radclyffe, only son of the third Earl, and in 1860 commenced to agitate for her rights, initially contacting Lord Petre as the representative of descendants of the family using the name of Lady Matilda Radclyffe.

In September 1868, Amelia took active steps to assert her claim by forcibly taking possession of the old ruined castle at Dilston.

She hoisted the Radclyffe flag on the ancient tower, and suspended portraits of the family on the ruined walls of the principal hall. Conformable to instructions from the Lords of the Admiralty, she was ejected by their agent, when she took up residence in a tent on the side of the road. After other proceedings she was imprisoned for contempt of court, her claim having formally been investigated and found to be invalid. Nevertheless, by her eccentric conduct in the prosecution of her claim, she continued to keep constantly before the public until her death, at her residence in Durham Road, Durham, Feb. 26, 1880, aged 49.^[2]

She was an accomplished woman, a lover of fine art, and an artist in oil, and she was powerfully and sincerely impressed with the righteousness of her claim. Her death was caused by bronchitis, after five days' illness. She had expressed a wish to be buried in the Radclyffe vault at Hexham, but her desire could not be complied with, and she was consequently buried at Blackhill Cemetery, Consett near Durham. Her assertions, published in her jottings were that John Radclyffe, the son of the last Earl of Derwentwater, and de jure 4th Earl of Derwentwater did not die in 1732, but was trafficked to Germany, and in 1740 married at Frankfort-on-Maine, Elizabeth Arabella Maria, Countess of Waldstein. He died there in 1798, in his eighty-sixth year.

His son James, at that time in his fifty-fifth year, was his heir, and was married to Eleanora the Countess Mouravieff, but leaving no issue, was succeeded by his brother, John James, who was born at Alston, in Cumberland, in 1764. The latter died in 1833, having married, late in life, Amelia Anna Charlotte, Princess Sobieski, a descendant of the noted Polish family of that name. They had issue several children, of whom John James, born in 1816, and Amelia Matilda Radclyffe, the soi-disant Countess of Derwentwater, were the only survivors.

Amelia’s true identity remains a mystery. Ralph Arnold in his 1959 book Northern Lights suggests that she may have been a lady’s maid from Dover by the name of Burke though he offers no further explanation of this. The Northumbrian Jacobites website suggest that she may have been a West Country servant girl trying her luck.^[3] It is possible that she was descended illegitimately from the Radclyffes of Dilston Castle and that this connection had fuelled her belief in her own claims.

She was reported on widely in contemporary news articles, the following appearing in the Hobart Mercury in October 1871:

THE COUNTESS OF DERWENTWATER ON HER TRAVELS

The Countess of Derwentwater is a character. Recently she took a steamer at Jersey City for Liverpool, and the goods she carried with her wore thus inventoried :-One guitar, with two strings ; two old cane-seated chairs, one with two legs ; three empty four-gallon demijohns, uncorked two peacocks and a black-and-tan, in a box ; two broken children's cribs of mahogany, one without rockers ; one cross-breed hound of English birth ; one champagne bucket, covered with dust ; one broken painter's easel ; three rickety deckchairs, with varnish scraped off; one bag of tin ware; one six by three pedestal, without statuette, cracked ; four plain square Irish chests, two painted rod and two black, locks broken and hanging, each marked in white letters, " Countess D. ;" two mammoth chests, cross-tied with half-inch clothes-line, with same mark ; those contained the Countess' numerous hats ; fifteen very ancient-looking trunks, tied across the sides and double-knotted at the back ; one tray for mixing dough ; two tin berth room trunks ; one bundle loose clothing ; two portable hat racks, rather worn ; six cases of mysteriously packed bottles, supposed to be ale ; Huge crates of sauces, mixed pickles, and catsups, put up in every conceivable shape ; one copper-coloured work-box done up in oil ; seven heavy treble-twilled English travelling shawls tied with twine; thirteen gray woolen blankets made in form of" shake down;" seventeen packages of files of newspapers. The Countess wore on this occasion a green silk dress, a white crape shawl, a pair of white silk gloves, etc. When the labourers took hold of the box containing the lady's favourite peacocks and the black-and-tan, the curious crowd pressed down on the countess until her lace-trimmed bonnet took a peep skyward, and her costly shawl swept the rough boards of the pier. “Handle 'em gently; they’re my only loves !" she sharply cried, as she broke through the jeering crowd, and reached the foot of the gang plank. "This remarkable woman," says the Suit, “has a fine estate in the north of England, in the county of Cumberland, called Derwentwater. She has always been noted for her eccentric manner and antiquated notions. Her wardrobe is said to consist of over two hundred rich and elaborately trimmed dresses, girted with gold lace, fringes, and parti-colored velvets. She wears no diamonds, and but one plain finger ring adorns her hands. She claims to have among her apparel robes worn by some of the belles of the time of William the Conqueror, and when she travels, those are part of her personal luggage, carefully packed in the fifteen trunks mentioned, which are as antiquated as the dresses. Her appearance indicates an age not beyond forty, though possibly older. She will visit Scotland and Wales before returning to her home."^[4]

Death

When the 'Countess' died on 27 February 1880, the 'Newcastle Courant' printed the following obituary:-

'Information has just reached this place [Consett] of the death, at half-past two o'clock this morning, of the 'Countess of Derwentwater,' the lady who laid claim to the vast estates which formerly belonged to the Derwentwater family, and whose eccentric conduct in the prosecution of her claim has kept her constantly before the public. It is now 20 years since this lady first notified to the world at large her claim, and her career since then has been full of interesting incidents. History records the death of John Radcliffe, the fourth Earl of Derwentwater, at the early age of nineteen, his death taking place at London in 1731. The Countess, however, asserted that the fourth Earl, instead of dying a minor in London, was smuggled over to Germany where he married in 1741, and left a large family, that to him succeeded a fifth, sixth,and seventh earl, and of this seventh earl she was a daughter, and only surviving heiress of the male descendants in a direct line. Twenty years ago, the soi-disant Countess left the foreign home of her ancestors to assume the grandeur they had so carefully shirked. On her arrival in this country, like the Tichborne claimant, she communicated her identity to those associates whom she also deemed worthy of her confidence, but, feeling perhaps, her case required some strengthening, and that sundry links in her chain of evidence were either wanting or decidedly rusty, she resolved to restrict immediate operations to the sending of a vague warning to the tenants on the various estates. In 1869, her Ladyship having made such preparations as seemed to her adequate for the purpose, once more emerged from obscurity, and having the sympathy of the masses, and being reinforced by an energetic aide-de-camp in the person of Harry Brown, then a bailiff of the Shotley Bridge Court, the campaign was opened with considerable pluck and activity. The local agents of the Admiralty were at Haydon Bridge on the occasion of one of the regular rent days appointed, and a large portion of the tenants were duly in attendance. Whilst the receiver was proceeding with the business in hand, a strange diversion was created by the entrance of the "Countess," accompanied by her henchman, and accoutred after a somewhat novel fashion of warlike equipment. Having duly announced her name, she warned the tenants present that the gentleman then receiving their rents was not authorised by her to do so, and called upon them to pay their respective amounts to herself. The tenants, of course, preferred to make their payments to the receiver, and, as the lady unceremoniously interrupted the proceedings, it was deemed advisable to induce her, if possible by argument, or, failing that, by severe measures, to quit the room. The quieter method having proved unavailing, and a threatened resort to qualified force having roused a slumbering lion,a somewhat lively scene ensued. Eventually the room was cleared, but not until a blow had been struck, for being armed with an antiquated sword, her ladyship drew the weapon, and a short struggle ensued, resulting in the snapping of the blade of the weapon. The immediate object of this first movement had failed, but great advantage was derived from the prominent place the extraordinary proceedings gained for her in the public interest.'^[5]

Although it is unlikely that there was truth in Amelia’s claims it is certain that she was in no way entitled to call herself Countess of Derwentwater as the title was only able to be passed through a male line. Given that the title had been attainted after the 1715 uprising the use of any title was inappropriate regardless of the truth of Amelia's claims.

A plaque was attached to the previously unmarked grave of Amelia in 2012 in Blackhill Cemetery, near Consett, County Durham. Members of the Northumbrian Jacobite Society added a plaque to a small stone cross, which had been previously erected by society members George and Lorraine Hunter.^[6]

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