: GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. ERRATA. Page 62, line 16, for " on," read " in." 97, last line, for " it," read " them." 103, penultimate line, for " was," read " were." 109, line 19, for " descendants," read " occupants." 127, 1, for " they," read " her works." 144, 17 from below, for "adopted " read " universally adopted." 150, 3, for " that," read " those." 201, 12, for " art," read " actors." 410, 10, for " tatooed," read " tabooed." 415, 10, for Le," read " Je." "WHOM MEN CALL LORD HOUGHTON, BUT THE GODS MOXCKTON MILNES. Vide p. 255. GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY PERSONAL AXD TRADITIONAL MEMORIES- SOCIAL LITERARY ARTISTIC <&c. BY THE AUTHOE OF FLEMISH INTERIORS," " DE OMNIBUS REBUS," &c. "If aiij' one were to form a book of what he has seen, and heard, it must, in whatever hands, form a most useful and entertaining record." GRAY (quoted by Horace Walpole) VOL. I. |lew IJorh: MACMILLAN AND CO. 1892. (All rights reserved.) PBEFACE. " But while I mused, came Memory with sad eyes, Holding the folded annals of my youth." can be few among us who are not stirred by a _ feeling of sympathetic interest in the times immediately preceding ours few who would not willingly know some- thing of those whose lives, occupying part of the same century grazed as it were our own, and whose personal acquaintance we just missed. In trying to fathom the nearer past and, so to speak, to. connect ourselves with it, research seems more hopeful if we address ourselves to contemporary sources and seek our information regarding recently departed celebrities from those to whom they were personally known. The genera- tion that can yet give us any authentic details of our imme- diate predecessors, is itself rapidly passing away, and as each patriarch drops out of its thinning ranks we begin to realize to ourselves the worth of our neglected chances, and to remember how much valuable testimony we have already failed to secure from those whose voice is now evermore silent, and whose knowledge is buried with them in the stillness of the tomb. The word gossip conveys yrimti facie, a frivolous idea ; vi PEEFACE. and is generally associated in our minds with what is supposed to be a congenial pastime of the more talkative if not the more reflective sex ; but all gossip is not necessarily frivolous, nor need it be malicious though " Mediant comme une clironique" has passed into a French proverb. History owes most of what little truth it contains, to the gossip of diarists and annotators as well as to the intimate confi- dences of friendly correspondence, and notwithstanding the necessarily trifling details of these private effusions and the banalites with which they often abound, the sidelights of such records have become invaluable to the groping student of past times, and of departed humanity ; nor can we possess too many such chronicles ; the value of each being proportioned to the subject of which it treats. Trifles cease to be trifles when Boswell is relating them of Johnson ; besides, experience shows that while one observer collects one class of information, another applies himself to another ; one will have been drawn to men of certain tastes and pursuits, another has been led to cultivate those of an altogether different type, and even where our Boswells have met in a common pursuit, we shall find they have been respectively struck by, and have dwelt upon, different cha- racteristics in the same individual so that the notes of one form a valuable, not to say an indispensable, supplement to those of another. Contemporary memoirs will therefore always be, as they always have been, attractive, whether from their picturesque detail and often na'ives descrip- tions, or from their unconscious revelations of private life and character, and the solution they often afford of family mysteries and historic secrets ; into these, from more or less excusable motives, we all like to plunge, and many of them can become known to us only from the traditions of the passing generation. As of celebrated persons, so also of places whose every stone has its history and so likewise of PREFACE. vii customs already become obsolete ; the detail of such lures us back into a past that we have missed a past which is addi- tionally fascinating because it is past ; naturally, therefore, we welcome the living testimony which yet, but not for long, survives it. Are there any who can take a retrospective view of their past years and not experience with unavailing self-reproach a melancholy consciousness of inexplicable neglect as they recall one by one the formidable catalogue of priceless opportunities and discover for the first time how recklessly they wasted them ? Full of youth and its illusions, we glanced down the lengthening perspective of the future, of which we neither saw, nor sought to see, the end ; we regarded life as a long summer's day during which the flowers that surrounded us should always be in bloom ; and we had a vague idea that we could pick them at any time. Who of those now approaching the close of life will not say with me, " What a tale I might have had to tell ! What a volume I might have been able to write, had I but taken advantage of the chances that now seem to have put them- selves in my way ! " But there is a period in our lives when our eyes seem to be holden, and we must have lived, to learn the force of the exclamation, " Sijeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait ! " My endeavour in the following pages, while drawing upon family traditions to add to such personal remembrance of of men, manners, and localities, as seem to be of broad and universal interest, has been to exclude as much as possible in a transcript of this nature, the yet inevitable ego. If, as Pascal says, " le moi est ha'issable," the more unobtrusive that "moi" can be made, the better: I have therefore limited as much as possible my own part in these pages to that of a witness or giver of evidence ; unfortunately, such a viii PREFACE. witness in recording his testimony as to persons and events, is compelled to manifest a certain individuality ; should I therefore seem, at any time, to slide insensibly into prominence, I can only beg my readers to attribute it to the force of circumstances, and to regard the narrator simply as the harmless, necessary channel of communication. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I, COURT GOSSIP. PAGE. George IV. on Constitution Hill The Duke of Cumberland The King's last illness and death Curious revelations of the King's habits The Pavilion The lying in state Various traits of the King's character Croker at Court Anecdote of the Duke of Clarence Croker's defence of the Duke of York Colonel Wardle Croker's character The King and " the Duke " The King and Sir Robert Peel The King opening Parliament An accident to the State Coach Anecdote of Princess Charlotte Fanny Burney Anecdote of George III. Royal grammar The education of Queen Charlotte and the Royal Princesses The King's social qualifications Anecdotes of the King's urbanity The King, the guest of Lord Anglesey The King and Assheton Smith's father The Regent and Lord Byron The King's probity Lord Kinsale The King's rebuke to him The Kinsale prerogative Lady Anne Hamilton and Queen Caroline Riots at the Queen's Trial "The Duke" and the Marquis of Anglesey Attack on the Morning Post office Dr. Parr and the King's proclamation The King and R. B. Sheridan The King and Madame de Stael Carlton House The National Gallery The " Care Colonne" Joseph Bonomi The King and Buckingham Palace The Duke of York His death Sale of his plate Lying in state Anecdote of his funeral service The Duke of Kent His domestic life Estimable character A clockwork household A law for the Royal Kitchen Circumstances of His Royal Highness's premature death Unaccountable incident at his funeral His will His debts Dis- charged by the Queen immediately on coming to the throne Lord Fitz- william The Duke of Clarence William IV. and Queen Adelaide The King's bonhomie and goodness of heart The King and Lord Denman His exemplary conduct as a middy And as an officer Ad- miration of the Spanish Admiral for him The Duke as William IV. As Lord High Admiral The King's diplomatic, and domestic, qualifica- tions Prince Talleyrand as ambassador The King as a speaker The King and Sir Astley Cooper Queen Adelaide The Court at Brighton Popularity of the King and Queen, there Anecdotes of the Court The King's sense of humour Mr. Ewart, M.P. Characteristic anecdote CONTENTS. Edifying death of the King Princess Queen Victoria The Coronation of Queen Victoria Incidents and accidents A popular festival The crowds of spectators who filled London The Procession Incidents Lord Alfred Paget Marshal Soult His immense popularity His appearance His equipage Croker's reprehensible behaviour "The Duke" and Soult His well-turned compliment Madame Mohl's descrip- tion of the pageant Impression of the scene on the Turkish ambassador The Crown Accident to the Crown " The Duke" paying homage Lord Rolle's accident The Queen's goodness of heart and presence of mind The dignity of her manner Hitches in the course of the grand function Difficulties of the young Queen's task Her admirable per- formance of it The Queen and Lord Melbourne Anecdote related by Major Gumming Bruce Brighton under the new reign The Queen's very rational objections to the place The Pavilion George IV.'s Royal road Brighton habitues George Canning His house at Kemp Town Spouting-room and subterranean passage Brunswick Terrace not then built George Canning's qualifications as a statesman and orator Cause of his death The Basevi family The Haweis family The Duchess of St. Albans Lady Byron Countess of Aldborough Anec- dotes of her Charles Greville Mrs. Fitzherbert The Duke of Sussex The Duchess of Inverness Anecdotes The Duke of Cambridge His peculiarities Atavism of his "triptology" Anecdotes The Duke of Cambridge at Church At the Opera Anecdote of him at a public dinner The Duke of Brunswick His habits and eccentricities His wealth Fads and vagaries His daughter Strange treatment of her His hatred of his guardians Effigy of Count Minister His desire to see an execution The result A grotesque Duke His diamonds His residences Curiously constructed and arranged house in Paris The distribution of his day The Duke of Brunswick and Louis Napoleon Description of his personal appearance Voyage in a balloon Ar- rested while on the spree His disposal of his fabulous wealth Princess Victoria of Coorgh Her baptism The Queen, her sponsor Her appearance and disposition Marriage Early death .... 1-82 CHAPTER II. SOCIAL, LITERARY, AND POLITICAL CELEBBITIES. John Elwes the Miser His descendant His atavism Anecdote His forbears Anecdotes of John Elwes Illustrations of his mixed character John Elwes and the Surgeon His generosity His meanness Shrewdness in speculation Outwitted by circumstances Honourable principles Anecdote A living paradox Aversion to matrimony Disposal of his fortune J. Home Son of a "Turkey merchant" Education at Eton Power of making and attaching friends Mistaken vocation Taken up by Mi*. Tooke of Purley Service rendered to Tookc, who adopts him Takes his name Details of his life Tried for high treason Horror of marriage His disputed seat in Parliament Many and fast friends Tastes, proclivities, and prejudices Home Tooke CONTENTS. xi PAGE and Junius A trio of illustrious runaways Amusing anecdote Refusal to pay taxes Distress levied The course pursued by Home Tooke His tomb Epitaph Sir Francis Burdett Personal appearance Fine trait of character Albany Fonblanque Agreeable manners, but mordant as a critic The Duke of Somerset Lady Lovelace Ada Byron's ignorance of her father's genius and works How and when discovered by her Newstead Abbey Lady Byron Contessa Guiccioli Anecdotes Her appearance Byron's ultimate weariness of her Lady Blessington's statement to Uwins, B.A. Byron at Venice Anecdote His club-foot Byron and Mrs. Opie George Robins "His value to the aristocracy" Byron and George Robins His popularity Characteristics Integ- rity Imaginativeness and ingenuity Anecdotes George Robins at Strawberry Hill Anecdotes Benvenuto Cellini's "Chaffdover" Strawberry Hill Its vicissitudes and various phases of existence Its occupants Frances, Lady Waldegrave George Robins's fortune Death Charles Buller, M.P. A stormy introduction His facetious character Count d'Orsay His descent Fascination of his manners Handsome face and figure His meeting with the Blessington family Marriage to the youthful Lady Harriet Gardiner Separation Byron's attraction for d'Orsay Unqualified admiration for his "Journal" His social qualifications Varied accomplishments His would-be imitators His success in fashionable life His toilette Colonel Gronow Anecdotes d'Orsay's extravagance Debts His tailor and bootmaker As a man of the world His connection with Lady Blessington Salon at Gore House d'Orsay and the Tamburini riots His characteristic English Knowledge of music Anecdotes Talent for portraiture and sculpture His portrait of " The Duke " His portraits of professionals Industry and ability Portrait of Byron Criticism of it by Tita Falcieri, Byron's Gondolier Byron's curls Tita's fidelity Anecdotes d'Orsay's introduction to George IV. The Comte de Guiche (afterwards Due de Gramont), French Ambassador and d'Orsay's brother-in-law d'Orsay's escape from his creditors His atelier in Paris Ambitious artistic attempts and successes Lady Blessington's death Her literary and other qualifications His grief The Mausoleum he built for her remains and his own at Chambourci His edifying death The Archbishop of Paris Lady Blessington The Comte de Guiche His duel The fashionable sleeve The Ordinary of Newgate His elegant and refined appear- ance Palmer the Poisoner The Chaplain's hopelessness about him Anecdote Times leader on this criminal Sir David Salomons Lord Mayor Mansion House dinner to Lord Chief Justice Campbell and the Bar The Lord Mayor's complimentary speech to Lord Campbell Toasts Extract from Lord Campbell's diary His conscientious dealing with the Palmer case His compliment to Sir David Salomons on his pluck, energy, and success in getting his co-religionists into Parliament Sir David's Shrievalty The Lady Mayoress Holford House, Regent's Park Its owner His life and habits Hospitality Princely fortune Anecdote The "Light of other days" Holford's death Claimants The Delaue family Details Anecdotes The Spot- tiswoode family Details Anecdotes Professor Palmer His wife His consummate knowledge as an Orientalist His mission Its result xii CONTENTS. PAGE Robbed and murdered His tragic death His literary productions Assheton Smith The "Great Huntsman" The high esteem in which he was held oil the Continent as in England Tedworth House His costly and elegant additions to it Mrs. Smith His singular aptitude for, and success in, field sports Admirable organizer His kennels Shrewd intelligence A scholar as well as a country squire and M. F. H. His great wealth Extensive and valuable property in Wales His intimacy with "The Duke" His celebrated hunting parties The high tone he gave to Sport His visits to Apsley House and Strathfield- saye His just and rational ideas on public education His skill in training horses and hounds The good understanding between himself and these animals Anecdotes Intelligence of his horses His gradual decay and death, almost in the saddle His temperance The veneration he inspired in his servants and grooms Beckford's idea of a perfect huntsman His reforms in the character of Sport Assheton Smith and the Duke of Richmond His wealth and testamentary disposition of it Squire Waterton Sir William Gore Ouseley His fine collection of Persian curios Various testimonies to his value to Oriental literature The Misses Ouseley Sir Frederick Gore Ouseley His musical pro- clivities and capabilities Successful career Early death Lord Russell Visit to Pembroke Lodge His appearance Manner Vividness of his memory Interior of his house Succeeded by his grandson Sir Walter Stirling His agreeable manners and fine qualities Erudition Taste and knowledge in matters of art Anecdotes His common sense Fair and sensible views on the "education craze" and its disastrous results Anecdotes Conversazione at the American minister's, July 4, 1867 Discussion of Maximilian's cruel fate Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall Spiritualistic seance Anecdotes Mrs. S. C. Hall's Wednesdays Idio- syncrasiesMr. S. C. Hall "Temperance Hall" Mr. Home Migra- tions of the Halls His wife's death His own death Obituary notices Table-turning Spirit rapping Alexis A seance Anecdote Mrs. Haydon A seance A catastrophe Spiritualistic seance in the streets at Capua R. Browning's anecdote of Kirkup The Berlin Conference Reception of Lord Beaconsfield and the Marquis of Salisbury on their return Lord Campbell on Disraeli School anecdote of Disraeli His baptism at twelve years of age 83-179 CHAPTER III. SOCIAL, LITERARY, AND POLITICAL CELEBRITIES. Thomas Day His eccentric character Personal appearance Strange ideas Educating a wife Failures Curious details Succeeding but unsuccess- ful attempts at matrimony Honora and Elizabeth Sneyd Ultimate success Hia wife Their singular mode of life His fine character Philanthropic efforts Death His wife's despair Principles of education Sandford and MertonJ. J. Rousseau Richard Lovell Edgeworth Rousseau's system a practical failure Sir William Jones and Day's other friends Richard Twiss " The Traveller "His qualifications and accorn- CONTENTS. xiii PAGE plishments James and Horace Smith Cromwell's head Michael Angelo Taylor Horace Smith's two daughters The Misses Weston and Crabb Robinson His qualifications Crabb Robinson on Braham Anec- dote of Judge Buller Crabb Robinson's affection for Wordsworth and for Charles and Mary Lamb Lamb's cottage His grave Epitaph Crabb Robinson as Times correspondent Rogers His marked cha- racteristics As a banker As a poet Rogers in the Catacombs Anecdotes The " Hombiibus " Rogers at Hatfield The Marchioness of Salisbury In the Hatfield fire Sir Joshua's portrait of her Her valuable social qualifications Anecdotes of Rogers His .1,000,000 banknote Queen Caroline at the Abbey Macaulay and Rogers Sydney Smith Lord Melbourne on Macaulay Whewell Sir David Brewster on Whewell Lord Jeffreys on Brewster Buckle Cardinal Wiseman George Raj'inond Curious history Literary and dramatic society His bachelor dinners and conversaziones Solution of a difficulty Ray- mond's Life of Elliston Illustrated by Cruikshank Diplomatic answers to an innocent advertisement Charles and William Goding James Goding Lady Jane Coventry A museum of fiddles Sir Francis Bond Head Adventurous life Rider and sportsman Uni- versal knowledge and ability Bubbles Domestic life Death His brother Captain Sir G. Head W. E. Gladstone at 28 On the Rhine- Sir S. Glynne His sisters Andrew Crosse (of Fyne Court) the electrician His noble character Distinguished ability Enterpiizing experiments Surprising results Faraday's admiration for him Mr. Arden His tastes and proclivities A collector Discoverer of an ancient papyrus Louis Napoleon Twins Anecdote George Eliot G. H. Lewes Characteristics of both The Priory Their Sunday " at homes " The society that frequented them Domestic life Visit with them the National Gallery Anthony Trollope Madame Parkes Belloc Velas- quez's picture Vandyke's triple portrait of Charles I. Its history Specimens of correspondence Agatha Lewes's admiration for Lessiug Letter of Lewes mentioning the late Lord Ly tton Personal appearance of " George Eliot " and of Mr. Lewes Robert Curzon Monasteries of the Levant George Cruikshank Interesting conversation with him Dr. Richardson Lecture at the Charterhouse on Stephen Gray Cruik- shank's illustrations of Dickens's and Harrison Ainsworth's works Cruikshank's caricatures of Napoleon I.- His zeal in the Volunteer move- ment " Teetotal George " Chavles Dickens Anecdote Dickens's domestic character Anecdote of his grandmother Harrison Ainsworth " Cheviot Tichborne" Contemporary popularity of his books Historical novels Highwaymen heroes Questionable morality His physique Imitation of d'Orsay Hepworth Dixon Characteristics Interesting particulars As a lecturer A Nonconformist An author Ubiquitous travels Mormons " Spiritual wives " His sad old age and death Wimhrop Mackworth Praed His daughter A youthful admirer of his poetry Mrs. Jameson Some personal particulars Story of a bracelet Her niece Mrs. Macpherson Mrs. Oliphant Sir Thomas Duffus Hardy Successor to Sir Francis Palgrave His special fitness for his calling Charming manners Intelligence and conscientiousness Lady Hardy's conversaziones Her novels Miss Isa Duffus Hardy, xiv CONTENTS. PAGE also a writer of fiction Sir Thomas's great services at the Tower and in the Eecord Office Carlyle Henry Greville's appreciation of him An instance of Carlyle's practical philosophy deserving of credit J. S. Mill Lord Hoiighton's great admiration for Carlyle Thomas Slingsby Duucombe Anecdote of Madame Vestris Dillon Browne Sir Edward, Lady Lytton Bulwer, and their little daughter Anecdotes Dr. Birch, the Egyptologist Conscientious work at the British Museum The astonishing number and value of his published works His simple and unassuming character, notwithstanding his vast knowledge Appre- ciator of MSS. and works of art Anecdote of his quick apprehension Winning manners Domestic life Take him to see General Sir J. Alexander Chinese curiosities Dr. Birch's appreciation of them Dr. Birch as a French scholar Had known Madame Recamier Robbery at the Museum Detection and recovery by Dr. Birch Anecdotes of him Lamented death The "Poet Close" "Lake Laureate" His ambitions His lofty aspirations Opinion of himself His pension Lord Palmerston's mistake How corrected Lord Houghton His pedigree Questionable statement by Mr. Wemyss Eeid Egrernont House Mrs. James Milnes Her diamonds Disposal of her fortune The Gaskells Lord Houghton's grandmother Rachel Busk Great Houghton part of her fortune Anecdote of Lord Houghton and Louis Philippe Lord Houghton with the archaeologists of the British Associa- tion Lord Houghton as a speaker and reader Grillon's Club Lord Houghton's portrait by G. Richmond Lord Houghton's sister, Lady Galway Excellent reader Clever artist Lord Houghton's wealth Its source Lord Tennyson's sonnet on his death .... 179-256 CHAPTER IV. SOCIAL CELEBRITIES. Women-writers "Blues" Mrs. Scmerville Her affability and unpretending manner Mrs. Elwood Her qualifications as a literary woman Her sister Lady Howard Elphinstone Maria Edgeworth Her father Her devotedness to him Abandonment of her marriage with the Swedish Ambassador Abbe Edgeworth Maria Edgeworth's niece Her collec- tion of Edgeworth relics Portrait of Abbe Edgeworth A smart repartee I ady Strangford Miss Beaufort Anecdotes The only female Freemason, Lord Doneraile's daughter The true version of the story An awkward predicament Anecdote "The Lady of the Four Birds" Mrs. Fry Comtesse de Montalembert Lady Jane St. Maur Lady Catherine Graham Lady Nugent Miss Neave Manor House, Chelsea The labours of all these ladies on behalf of the " masses '' Mrs. Fry " at home " Anecdote Her appearance, manner, &c. Mrs. Fry and the King of Prussia Quaker habits, manners, costume, and general practices Anecdotes Names given to their children Anecdotes Objections to pay rates George III. and the CONTENTS. xv- PAGE. Quakers "William and Mary Howitt described Spiritualistic ideas Pleasant manners His death Her conversion to Catholicism Her death in Rome L. E. L. described Her short and harassed life Lite- rary productions Marriage Goes to the Cape Mysterious death there Frances Trollope Her literary works Character of her writing Death at Florence Lady Franklin Devotedness to her husband Efforts to discover his whereabouts Her house Salon Society that frequented it Honourable Maria Otway Cave The Braye title Its vicissitudes Her agreeable manners and informing conversation Anecdotes Savill-Onley Origin of the name Princess de Lieven Her political intrigues Social treachery Success in gaining her ends Her history Talleyrand's opinion of her and her husband Frances Lady "Waldegrave Birth Marriages Popularity in society Her great wealth Strawberry Hill Qualifications as a hostess Lord and Lady Farnborough Their encomiums on her Lady Douglas Her blindness Her amiability Her interesting life Anecdote of the Peninsular War Barry Cornwall Mrs. Procter Her life Manners, appearance, social qualifications Peculiarly interesting social position Her daughters Her death Funeral Anecdotes Aptitude and love for society Present at the late and the former, Jubilee Madame Mohl Her character Detail of her life Social position Madame Mohl and the Queen " Lady Augusta," and the Dean Her residence in the Eue du Bac Anecdotes of her peculiarities Lady Dukinfield Danced at the Waterloo Ball Still living in 1884 Crabb Eobinson's mother Anecdote Lady Henry Paulett Miss O'Brien Curious character Description Anecdote 2S7-29& CHAPTER V. MEN OF THE SWOBD. F.M. The Duke of Wellington His popularity Urbanity Dislike of impor- tunate demonstrations Contrast with Brougham His moral influence, especially with the army Instanced Fickleness of the mob His silent rebuke Hostility of Lord Grey to the Duke, prompted by Princess de Lieven Talleyrand's exalted impression of the Duke Louis Philippe's opinion of him Charles Greville's estimate of Talleyrand The Duke's sense of humour Ready repartee His deficiency in modern languages Knowledge of Spanish His voice and oratorical powers Maria Edgeworth's letters The Duke's engagement to Honble. " Kitty Pakeiiham," and subsequent marriage The Duchess's death The Duke as a sportsman Assheton Smith The Duke frequently asked to narrate his battles Failure of the Duke's powers An entire change in his manner A chance attendance at Exeter Hall His recep- tion Improvement in his health and humour Curious letter of d'Orsay to Haydon The Duke's portraits That by d'Orsay His visit to Wilkie'8 studio The Duke's love of music The Wellesley family The Duke's appreciation of the great Italian artistes Lord Burghersh's opera The xvi CONTENTS, PAGE Marquis of Douro Anecdote Caricatures of the Duke The Duke and Napoleon La Belle Alliance The Victory of Waterloo Napoleon's car- riageGeneral John Eeid Becher, K.E., C.B. One of the old Punjauh staff A representative Anglo-Indian officer His high character and great but unpretending services Eecounted by Col. Sir Henry Yule His work at Hazara Lord Lawrence Sir Henry Lawrence Major-General Col- linson Sobraon Becher, Punjaub boimdary commissioner at Peshawur Becher's valuable services in the Mutiny Conscientiouswork General James Abbott Sir Herbert Edwardes Bosworth Smith's Life of Lord Lawrence Becher's cultivation and accomplishments Sir Neville Chamberlain Becher's moral influence General James Abbott, R.A., C.B. His unrequited services Mission to Khiva Popularity in the Punjaub His literary tastes and successes Colonel Sir Henry Yule, B.E., K.C.B. Fine character Distinguished literary abilities Marco Polo General Sir James Alexander, R.A., K.C.B. Sir Henry Lawrence, when his subordinate Curious characteristic of the Lawrences The Khyber Pass Jellalabad Dr. Brydone Lady Butler's expressive pic- ture Colonel Dennie's singular prophecy Sir James's social character- istics Second sight Lord Napier of Magdala At a wedding His ser- vices at the Pei-ho Kiver Inefficiency of the French General His meanness Sir Hope Grant General "Count Pa-li-kao" Lord Napier and the Lawrences Lord Napier's characteristics and popularity . 295-337 CHAPTER VI. LEGAL CELEBEITIES. "Walter Savage Landor's opinion of law The terrors of the law Law and equity Le Code Napoleon Napoleon's own opinion of it His further intentions Anecdote of a Chancery suit " Colour " Jack Lee His characteristics Successes and promotions at the bar Shrewdness and humour Peculiarities Anecdotes Jack Lee and Erskine Anecdote " Honest Jack Lee " His admirers Jack Lee and Lord Eldon Anec- dotes of circuit His hospitality Wealth and county position Admiral Keppel's handsome behaviour to Lee and his two other counsel Lee's sudden death The three Lees Dunning (Lord Ashburtou), anecdotes of Circuit anecdotes of Lee Lee's daughter and heiress Anecdotes Thirteen at table Lord Eldou Liver and bacon Anecdotes remembered by Mr. Martin Archer Shee, Q.C. Lord Stowell Anecdote of Jekyll Lord Erskine's inexhaustible bons mots The Great Seal Anecdotes Erskine's wig Extempore lines Erskine's ingenious defences Lord Westmorland Sugden's father Lord St. Leonards The Great Seal Its history and adventures Lord Thurlow Lord Eldon The " bags " Anecdotes of Lord Eldon John Adolphus, Q.C. Charles Philips and Courvoisier LordWm. Russell The Emperor Napoleon III. and Charles Philips Serjeant Murphy Popularity of John Adolphus at the Old Bailey Anecdotes His wife and children Defence of Thistlewood John Leycester Adolphus, Q.C. His discovery of the author of Wavcrley CONTENTS. xvii PAGE Anecdotes His subsequent intimacy with Sir Walter Adolphus's daughter Leycester Adolphus's letters from Spain Scott's deliberate, as well as implied, denials of authorship Testimony of Eogers and Sheridan Abbotsford Hogg Anecdotes John Leycester Adolphus's widow Her anecdotes of George III.'s contemporaries Of William IV. Lord Brougham Anecdotes illustrative of his character His daughter Her early death Pathetic epitaph by Marquis of Wellesley Place of burial The Brougham hoax Anecdotes Brougham's ac- count of Princess Charlotte's escapade His part in the quarrels of the Royal Family, and in the celebrated trial Success as an advocate Spencer Perceval, a partisan of the Queen, shot Bellingham M. Angelo Taylor "The chicken" Macaulay and John Wilson Croker Macaulay and Brougham Lord Grey Princess de Lieven Samuel Warren " 10,000" a year Nathan Meyer Rothschild Anecdotes The mother of the Rothschilds Her house, equipage, &c. R - Hon ble> J. A. Roebuck, M.P. Chisholm Anstey, M.P. His incidented life Curious temper A notorious Q.C. His singular courtship Its results "Connexions by marriage " Serjeant Merewether Captain Hans Busk Personal ap- pearance Zeal in the Volunteer movement Originated by him Humour Social popularity Varied abilities Political pamphlets and literary work Various offices he filled His yacht Life-ships School of cookery Mr. Joseph Parkes Lawyer and politician Married granddaughter of Priestley With Huskisson when killed Wrote on the authorship of Junius Many influential friends All Radicals Cultivated mind Winning manners His daughter, Miss Bessie Parkes Married M. Belloc 339-397 CHAPTER VII. AMONG THE FACULTY. Country and watering-place practitioners A doctor on the Pantiles In the olden time His successor Another, and yet another Some of his patients A conventional London physician Dr. Merriman Sir H. Holland Sir Astley Cooper George IV. and Sir Astley The doctor's carriage A physician's accessories Operation on the King's head Details Incidents that followed Anecdotes of Sir Astley His alarm at the King's message Sir Astley and the Marchioness of Salisbury Sir Astley's diary Subjectivity of medical opinion Anecdote of Lady Holland Helplessness of patients Illustrative anecdote Changes in medical science Blood-letting Anecdotes Credulity of patients A useful (?) consultation Contradictory diagnosis Wits and doctors Sir William Kuighton's opinion of medical science Dr. Baillie's opinion of the value of medicine Medical farces Consultations The opinions of dramatists and poets Medical murder of Lord Byron Of the Duke of Kent Correspond- ence of Gui Patiu and Andre Falconnet Bleeding v. Antimony Dr. Reid's xviii CONTENTS. PAGE remark The bleeding mania Squire "Waterton's delusion Warning a patient of the hopelessness of his case Illustrative anecdote Deathbed of Balzac An English surgeon Saving faith Anecdote Bread pills Mr. Skey's patient Dr. Elliotson His success and popularity Change of ideas Conscientiousness Mania for mesmerism Loss of professional position Seances at his house His common-sense prescription Elliot- son and Haydon Charles Lever, M.D. English physician at Brussels Hatred of his profession Literary proclivities, gifts, and successes A vegetarian doctor Amusing anecdote The meat-market at Pisa Vege- tarianism Prince Hohenlohe His miracles Faith in them Prayers answered at the foot of the letter Mr. Taylor, the well-known Brighton apothecary His qualifications Those requisite for all doctors Mr. Eichard Partridge " Dr. Gruffy " Different classes of doctors George III. and Princess Amelia's doctor Mr. White Cooper His diagnosis Dr. Wolcot and his oculist Taylor, the oculist Le Docteur Nelaton Anecdote His success with Garibaldi Dr. Blundell His facetious patient Meaning of the letters M.D. Dr. Eadcliffe and the South Sea Bubble Anecdote Fees The Harley Street physician's clever ma- noeuvre Erasmus Wilson The physician's waiting-room An empyric's cure of consumption Dr. Monro Head physician at Luke's A lunatic entertainment Details Visit to Bedlam Dadd, the parricide Samuel Cartwright, the fashionable dentist A solemn farce Success of charla- tanism Dr. Buchan An aged shepherd his descendant Immense success of Dr. Buchan's Domestic Medicine Translated into all languages Anecdotes Legendary recipes Dr. Kitchiner The remark- able universality of his genius, his wealth exempting him from practising as a physician Unique character Protean aptitudes Fascinating manners Details of his many-sided life His practical information on many subjects Fondness for children His friends Entertainments Details Clock-work household With him everything a science Sudden death His son His tragic end Universal criticisms on medi- cine Moliere and Louis XIV. Eabelais' medical prejudices Zinimer- mann's answer to Frederick the Great General remarks on the nobleness of the calling , 399-459 ILLUSTBATIONS. PAGE LORD HOUGHTON ........ Frontispiece LYING IN STATE OF GEOEGE IV 6 JOHN WILSON CKOKEE, ESQ., M.P. (Secretary of the Admiralty) . . 9 THE KING 18 " PEINCE FLOBIZEL " 22 QUEEN CAROLINE ........ 23 WELLINGTON EQUESTRIAN PORTRAIT . . . To face page 25 MARQUIS ANGLESEY EQUESTRIAN PORTRAIT . 27 "LAST SHOOTING EXCURSION OF H.R.H. THE DUKE OF YORK" 31 THE GREAT CHAMBER AT ST. JAMES'S PALACE (the Duke of York Lying in State) ......... 32 H.R.H. EDWARD, DUKE OF KENT AND STRATHEARN, E.G., K.T., K.S.P., etc., &c. ......... 34 THE INFANT PRINCESS VICTORIA 36 MARSHAL SOULT 50 GEORGE CANNING 60 THE DUCHESS OF ALBANS .... . . 64 JOHN ELWES, "THE MISER" 86 ALFRED COUNT D'ORSAY (Author of" a Journal") . . . .113 COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON 127 A HERO OF THE CHASE 147 H.E. SIR WILLIAM GORE OUSELEY (Amlatsador Extraordinary t the Court of Persia) ......... 153 xx ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE THOMAS DAY 182 GEORGE ELIOT ......... &S THE TRIPLE PORTRAIT OF CHARLES I. . . . . .216 E. L. BULWER 240 BULWER SHAVING 241 DR. SAMUEL BIRCH, THE EGYPTOLOGIST .... 244 MRS. FRY 268 MRS. PROCTER 286 F.-M. THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON, E.G., &c., &c. . . . .298 A TRIP TO DOVER (H.B.) ..... To face page 303 WELLINGTON BY D'ORSAY 311 "THE DUKE'S" ROOM AT WALMER, WHERE HE DIED . . 313 LA BELLE ALLIANCE 316 GENERAL JOHN REID BE CHER, R.E., C.B. (one of Sir Henry Lawrence's Old Punjaub Staff) ....... 318 GENERAL JAS. ABBOTT, R.A., C.B 324 JOHN DUNNING, LORD ASHBURTON 347 LORD ERSKINE 358 A VIEW OF WESTMORELAND, OR AN IMPRESSION OF THE PRIVY SEAL 359 LORD ELDON ......... 365 WALTER SCOTT, AS A CHILD 372 LORD BROUGHAM 375 "THE GHEBER," BROUGHAM WILLIAM IV. (H.B.) . . . 383 NATHAN MEYER ROTHSCHILD 386 DR. BUCHAN ......... 450 DR. KITCHINER ....... To face page 455 COURT GOSSIP. "... nni] a scilicet omnibus, Quicumque terrse munere vescirnur, Enavigancla, sive reges Sive mopes erimus coloni." HORACE, Carm. ii. 14. GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY CHAPTER I. COURT GOSSIP. " Behold how men do run to see a King go by." JEREMY TAYLOR. " Les erreurs ties rois sout des secrets d'etat.'' CARD. DUBOIS. I RE MEMBER being taken by ruy father one morning, in King the year 1829, to Constitution Hill, in order to profit by Geor e e IV - the rare occasion of King George IV. 's driving out in London, to obtain a sight of His Majesty. The King was not onl}- seriously out of health for some time before his death, but his personal appearance was so visibly affected by the complicated diseases, to which he had become a victim, that he showed himself as little as possible in public. It was not often, therefore, that he was to be seen, and apparently the intimation my father had received was a private one, for the locality was entirely deserted. As we strolled along the road, we suddenly heard the clatter of hoofs, and two royal outriders in undress livery came galloping along at full speed, followed at a short distance by an open barouche and four, with two postilions ; two more outriders bringing up the rear. Leaning back in the carriage and nearly covered by the leather apron, were two gentlemen enveloped in far-lined coats ; for, beside the King, sat the unpopular Duke of The Duke of Cumberland, his countenance strikingly unprepossessing, Cumberlan<1 - GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. and his defective eye * plainly discernible. The King's face, though bloated, wore a pleasant expression, and he bowed courteously, with a bland smile, when my father lifted his hat. Both Princes were muffled up in those wonderful rolls of neck-cloth, having the effect of bandages round the throat, and apparently requiring throats of peculiar length to suit them ; but the fur collars in this case concealed a good part of this now antiquated attire. The carriage drove past at a rapid pace, and that is all I ever saw of George IV., who was taken seriously ill the following year, and died on the 25th of June, 1830. We were then at Brighton, where, alone, the King had remained popular; for since the year 1782, when he had taken a fancy to the place, building his Pavilion there in 1784, he had been a constant visitor to this Pare aux cerfs, where his vagaries were winked at, in consideration of his partiality for the place. Having been the cause of its prosperity, Brighton might well dread the day when its royal patron would be removed, and no wonder bulletins from Windsor, where the King lay dying, were industriously posted up and circulated all over the place, as fresh information arrived ; knots of eager inhabitants might be seen grouped round these ominous notices, scanning the intelligence they brought and discus- sing the probable ultimate result, about which there could now be little doubt. * Prince George of Cumberland, the Duke's son, was also blind, and probably many would attribute this misfortune to heredity, for George III., as is well known, became blind, and George IV. partially lost his sight towards the end of his life. The commencement of the blindness of Prince George is mentioned by Princess de Lieven in one of her letters to Lord Grey, when referring to "the sudden trouble that had come upon the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland by the discovery that their little son, Prince George, could no longer see." One eye had been injured by an accident when he was quite young, and the sight was gone; the other may have become affected from sympathetic action : the Princess writes. " The poor child sees absolutely nothing ; they turn his face to the sun and he cannot perceive the light," I have often seen the two little Princes George (of Cumberland and of Cambridge), who were of the same age, and also of the age of " Princess Victoria," ride past our windows in Great Cumberland Place on small ponies, their grooms following in undress liveries. DEATH OF GEORGE IV. A Sussex yokel spelling out one of these bulletins " Last night, the King slept at intervals " was much scandalized, that the}' should have ventured to move him to " Intervals, wherever that might be," when he was in so precarious a state. The last time the King drove out was on the 25th of April, and one of his doctors had already given him over then, though two others thought he might be saved for a little while, but he himself had no idea how serious was his condition. In May, the Duke of Wellington advised the Bishop of Winchester to break the news to His Majesty, whose state had then become much worse, for he would lose his head every now and then, sometimes for hours, and obstinately clung to many delusions; among them, to one under which he had often laboured previously, viz., that he had been present at Waterloo and had gained the battle : indeed, one day at a dinner, some time previously, he had not only re-asserted this, but had appealed to the Duke of Wel- lington to confirm his statement. The Duke discreetly replied " I have heard your Majesty say so before." It was not until the 8th of June that the King was informed of the hopelessness of his case ; he received the intimation with surprising firmness, and died on the 25th of that month. The Duke of Wellington, alluding to the event, remarked, "He died like a man; I always said he would." It is curious that at the moment of the King's death there was no one in the room with him but two valets. Sir Thomas Hammond declared the physicians were not present, though they said they were. A curious revelation of some points of the King's character appeared in a discovery made after his death : though his ways were utterly reckless and unscrupulously extrava- gant, he had for years been in the habit of hoarding in the most miserly way all his cast-off clothes, which were found preserved in excellent order in his wnrdrobe ; moreover, he clung to them with such tenacity that he kept in his head GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. an accurate catalogue of all this defroque, and knew the exact spot in which each item was to be found, would now and then ask for some particular coat, boots, describing it unmistakably. His habits of gallantry were so notorious that were scarcely surprised to find that he had had accredited mistresses, and the packets of billet-doux, garters, locks of hair, faded flowers, &c., found away, bore their testimony to the multiplicity of his so well that he hat, or people sixteen gloves, stowed adven- LYIXG IN STATE OF GEOEG tures in the " pays clu tendre" More than fifty pocket-books were scattered among his private belongings, each con- taining money in smaller or larger amounts, apparently laid by and forgotten ; still when all these sums were collected, they formed an aggregate of 10,000 ! Sir Thomas Hammond seems to have been aware of this hoard- ing propensity of the King's, and used to relate, in proof of his keeping large sums stored up, that, one day going out with him for a walk, the King, with a small key which he THE KING'S HOARDINGS. wore, unlocked a secret drawer, and, taking out bank notes of various values to the amount of 3,000, selected a small note which he put in his pocket, restoring the rest to its place. Sir Thomas's conviction was that he must have saved up at least 600,000 during his reign. I remember hearing all about the lying in state, which was at Windsor, and a gloomy affair it must have 'been; the concourse was so tremendous that it was difficult even for ticket-holders to see anything ; the room was spacious, but densely crowded, even though only a certain number were admitted at a time, and the spectators were passed through so quickly that it was difficult for any to take in the scene ; the walls being hung with black and the windows darkened, the only light was from the dull and uncertain flames of the tall wax candles that surrounded the state bed, so that the impression left even on those who saw it best, was a confused one. George IV. was generally unpopular during his life, and his memory was not honoured. The year's mourning, therefore, that followed his demise must have been con- formed to, out of loyalty to the principle, and not to the monarch, for whom no one entertained any personal affec- tion, scarcely even any respect. It is singular that, openly disapproved and disliked as was George IV., his life was only twice attempted once in 1817, when he was fired at, and the ball lodged in the lining of the carriage ; and once by an Irishman named Piercey, who bribed the officers of the kitchen to poison him. The plot was nipped in the bud, Piercey was seized, tried, and condemned to death ; but at the King's desire the punishment was < -ni Minuted to five years' imprisonment. We hear so much of the untoward characteristics of this monarch that we are surprised to learn he was very tender- hearted when sentences of a capital, or even of a severe, nature were passed on condemned criminals, regretting the Draconian severity of the English criminal laws. In the 8 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. case of a boy of thirteen, Henry Newbury, condemned to transportation for life, the Eoyal prerogative was again exercised, the King writing from Brighton to Sir Robert Peel to obtain a commutation to a term of confinement in the House of Correction. Perhaps this Prince's greatest mistake was in choosing friends of more than equivocal character ; but if he recklessly admitted to his intimacy persons who had the bad taste to take advantage of the freedom he allowed them, he was not slow to resent a liberty ; he liked to be amused, but did not choose to pay too dearly for the society of those who amused him. One of these was John Wilson Croker, to whom he gave a well-merited lesson. Croker, though he had a serious side to his character, was a joker, and so long as his witticisms w 7 ere kept within limits, the King delighted in them ; but occasionally he abused the Eoyal favour, for- getting the laws of good breeding as well as of prudence. Once when the Court was at the Pavilion, and Croker was in attendance, the company being scattered about in groups, on a Sunday evening after dinner, Croker happened to find himself in that of which the Duke of Clarence was the centre. The Duke was criticizing the management of the Admiralty, especially directing his sarcasms against Croker (at that time Secretary to the First Lord, and derisively styled by naval men "the whole board of the the Admiralty "). Among these remarks the Duke said " When I'm King, I'll be my own 'First Lord,' * and depend on it John Wilson Croker won't be my Secretary." :: When the Duke came to the throne as William IV., he had no desire to be "First Lord," and very shortly after his accession the Eight Hon. Sir James Graham replaced Lord Melville in that office. Indeed, the King had had enough of it during 'the previous reign, and found the duties while they fell to his lot, so irksome, and the responsibility they entailed so onerous, that the anxiety affected his health somewhat seriously, and his son, the Earl of Minister, discerning the inadequacy of his own influence, begged Sir Astley Cooper to advise him to resign. GEORGE IV. AND J. W. CROKER. " Does your Eoyal Highness remember," replied Croker, " what English king was his own First Lord ? " " No, I can't say I do," answered the Duke. 'Well, it was James II.," said Croker, and, not un- naturally, the reply caused a general laugh among those near enough to catch it. The King, who was pacing up and down the room,, hearing this expression of mirth, called out " ^Yllat's the joke ? One of your good things, Croker,. no doubt?" JOHN Wii.sox C'KUXKII, ESQ., M.P. (Secretary of the Admiralty.) "No, indeed, your Majesty; but your royal brother is- telling us what he means to do in the navy when he come& to the throne," replied Croker, with most uncourtier-like- absence of mind. The King did not reply, but withdrew. Next morning, however, Croker received the King's command to attend him in his bedroom. He found His Majesty very serious, who remarked to him with a certain severity of tone " I was annoyed at your exposing my brother's nonsense 10 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. under niy roof last night ; and, in the next place, your repeating what he said he should do when I am no longer king ; let me request there may be no recurrence of similar utterances. Do not believe I am offended ; but it is dis- tasteful to me." The King's features then relaxed a little, and he held out his hand for the Secretary to kiss, dismissing him to ponder on the ugly predicament into which he had been betrayed. Although when among the King's chosen companions, Croker may have occasionally forgotten himself, he was a man of an altogether different stamp from the Brummels and others who toadied to Royalty. His social status, his education, and his mental ability were of a very much higher order, and he proved himself a speaker and a writer of no mean parts. Croker's powers of satire were keen, and he could be brilliantly witty,* but too often at the expense of others, and without any consideration for their feelings. The first publication which called attention to his capa- bilities was his Intercepted Letter from China, written in a spirit all the more daring that it was published anony- mously ; also he found great amusement in hearing it talked of and admired in his presence by those who had no sus- picion that he was its author. :;: The following may serve to indicate that Mr. Croker's wit was not always either ready or brilliant. He had been asked for a contribution to Lady Blessing- ton's album, and this is his answer : " ADMIRALTY, May 6, 1820. "DEAR LADY BLESSIXGTON, I have received from Lord Blessington your commands for the third time. I beg pardon for having been so tardy ; but the enclosed will show you that I have at last literally and implicitly obeyed you. " I have the honour to be, " Dear Lady Blessington, " Your very faithful servant, " J. W. CROKER. " You've asked me three times, For four lines with two rhymes ; Too long I've delayed, But at last you're obeyed ! " CHARACTER OF J. W. CROKER. 11 Croker's subtle and able defence of the Duke of York agaiust the imputations of Colonel Wardle, which entirely defeated the latter, brought him into favourable notice, and he made some stir in the political world as M.P. for Down- patrick, as Q.C. at the Irish bar, and also as a writer, though in the latter capacity he laid himself open to well- merited criticism. His political gossip and his amusing conversation procured him frequent invitations to the Prince Regent's table ; but he was well known to have as little feeling as principle, and to take a singular pleasure in malicious criticisms, especially of authors ; not sparing even his intimate friends and those from whom he had received favours. It was said that he established the Quarterly lieview for the sake of having at command an influential organ, by the help of which he could draw attention to the shortcomings of other writers. There were no pains he would not take to discover and expose whatsoever he thought would be of disadvantage to another, especially if an author ; and he has been severely censured by Macaulay and others for putting himself to great trouble to be able to publish to the world the fact that Fanny Burney was nearer twenty-seven than " seventeen," as she tried to make people believe, when she wrote her Evelina : true, she gave herself so many airs about this book, which it is plain she thought the finest specimen of literature ever produced, that she deserved " taking down." At the same time the proverb about "glass houses" may be applied to John Wilson Croker, whose singular errors in his edition of Eoswell's Life of Johnson (as pointed out by Macaulay), hold him up to posterity as little short of a literary humbug.* The most creditable episode in his life was his secretaryship to the Admiralty, and he also deserves praise for the excellent and successful idea of founding the Athenaeum Club. * See Macvey Napier's Correspondence. 12 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. If the King reprimanded the Et. Hon. John Wilson Croker for an unbecoming freedom, he also knew how to overlook a snub when it came from a different quarter, and when he could not but admit its justice. A story told by Colonel Jones of the Guards, nicknamed " Buffer Jones," shows how, on one occasion, the Duke of Wellington, with his blunt, straightforward sense of duty, felt himself obliged to evade the King's orders, when, according to his own knowledge of what was right, it would have been mischievous to obey them. The command of a regiment having fallen vacant, George IV. said to Wellington, -who was on a visit at Windsor, " Arthur, there is a regiment vacant ; gazette Lord - - to the vacancy." "It is impossible, please your Majesty ; there are generals who have seen much service, now advanced in life, whose turn should be first served." " Never mind that, Arthur, gazette Lord - ." The Duke bowed, and, splendide mendax, went straight up to town and gazetted Sir Ronald Fergusson, whose services entitled him to the vacancy. The King had the discretion to wink at this disobedience on the part of Wellington, and made no further allusion to the matter.* * During the reign of George III. a matter of this kind was managed differently. A situation of some importance in the Government having become vacant, the King heedlessly promised it to an individual he wished to oblige ; but the Cabinet had other views, and resolved these should be carried out. Accordingly, a blank form was drawn up with the intention of paying His Majesty the empty compli- ment of asking what name should be inserted in the commission. Drawing up the form, however, was one thing, braving the royal displeasure was another, and the members of the Cabinet were all so unwilling to undertake making the application, that they at last agreed to decide the question by lot. The task fell to the witty Lord Chesterfield, who boldly entered the royal closet with the blank commission in one hand, and a pen in the other, respectfully soliciting His Majesty's pleasure. After some discussion on the King's choice, which the noble lord delicately, but firmly demonstrated to His Majesty could not be complied with, the King angrily turned from him, saying, ' Then give it to the Devil." Chesterfield hereupon made as if about to fill up the blank, but suddenly paused to inquire ' Would your WELLINGTON COMMANDEK-IN-CHIEF. 13 The King's wishes were baffled in a somewhat similar way when, on the death of the Duke of York, he had set his mind on heing Commander-in-chief, and having consulted no one, nor taken any one into his confidence hut Sir Herbert Taylor, he thought he had arranged the whole matter. His plan was to have " a secretary who could give directions in his name," " Taylor was to be Adjutant- General," and " some provision was to be made for Torrens." Sir Herbert listened respectfully, but unhesitatingly told His Majesty the thing was quite impossible. Peel, as soon as he heard of the project, wrote earnestly to the Duke of Wellington, conjuring him to co-operate with him in frustrating a scheme which would give, not to the King, but to those who could influence him, the powers of Commander-in-chief, so that the idea could not be enter- tained for an instant. The King at last sent for Peel, who was not slow to make his Majesty understand that Wellington alone could assume the vacant office : the King probably recognized the justice of the argument, for he acquiesced, and was perfectly satis- fied : the Duke accepted, and the matter was set at rest; in this as on all other occasions, Wellington had no thought for himself, his desire was alwaj^s to act so as to be most useful to the country. He has been most justly described, as, in whatever capacity, true to the high standard he had set before himself, exhibiting a noble example of the purest disinterestedness, and commanding universal respect by his perfect and undeviating good faith, inflexible justice, scrupulous honesty, and invariable truthfulness. In November, 1812, a curious accident which one of my uncles happened to witness, and which might have been at- tended with serious consequences, befell the Prince Kegent. Majesty please that this commission should follow the usual form ' To our trusty and well-beloved cousin, the Devil'? " At this the King could not resist a smile, .aid the Cabinet carried the day. 14 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. His Eoyal Highness went in State to open the new parliament on that day. It was a great occasion, for eight years had passed since the King had attended Parliament, and applica- tions for tickets poured in from every quarter : there was to be a great show of royalty ; the Princesses Augusta, Elizabeth, and Mary, with the little Princess Charlotte of Wales, were escorted to the House by the Duke of Cumberland. As the State coach had been long out of use, and the eight cream-coloured horses had never worked together in harness before, a groom, wearing State livery, was appointed to hold the bridle of each horse, under special instructions to be particularly careful in turning the corner of Cleveland Eow into Stable Yard. The coachman, perhaps from over anxiety, took too great a sweep at this critical point, and the ofF-hind wheel came into collision with the post at the corner of the pavement leading to Stafford House, smashed up the kerb-stone for some distance, and, breaking away the bar, threw the State coach- man off the box. The man fell between the wheels, but fortunately was able to rise again so quickly, that with the help of two of the grooms, he was extricated before he had sustained any injury ; in fact, he did not even drop the reins, and was able to mount again instantly. The Prince looked out of the carriage window, asked what had happened, and before proceeding, ascertained the fact of the coachman's safety. Later in life he did not often indulge in this kind of consideration for others ; but, surrounded as he was, it is wonderful there was any good left in him ; it is not to be supposed he ever heard the truth from any one, nor did he perhaps care to hear it. The Princess Charlotte, though so young, seems, on the other hand, to have had much good sense ; frankness was an integral feature in her own character, and she greatly valued it in others. A certain Italian professor haviug been engaged to instruct her in playing and singing, was asked to remain near the ROYALTY ABOVE GRAMMAR. 15- piano on the occasion of a large party at Warwick House, at which she was to perform. The young Princess was of course vehemently applauded ; but perfectly conscious of having failed, when the company had left, she appealed to the master to give her his opinion. He at once replied that " Her Eoyal Highness had sung divinely and played charm- ingly." The royal pupil made no observation, but when the Signor next came to give his lesson, she ordered one of the servants to pay him what was due, and to let him know that " she wished to discontinue his instructions in future," adding that " she was disappointed in a professor who could imagine she would prefer being flattered to being cor- rected, and who would encourage her in exposing herself to ridicule." There seems to have been a curious neglect of educa- tion as at present understood, at this Court, and according to many passages in chronicles and correspondence of the- time, correctness of speech held a secondary place in royal estimation. In Fanny Barney's diary, under date August 3, 1788, where she speaks of a dangerous epidemic styled "influenza," as pervading the country, she mentions its having attacked herself when in attendance on the Queen. The King having been informed by Her Majesty, at once requested the attendance of Mr. Clerk, the apothecary,, who was at the moment with one of the Princesses. When Clerk appeared, on hearing the King say, " Here's another patient for you, Mr. Clerk," ho took it into his head that it was the Queen who required his services, and remained bowing and waiting for Her Majesty to speak, the good old King standing by and enjoying the joke. When it became- evident that there was no question of the Queen, the poor man, becoming more and more embarrassed, turned to the Princess Augusta who at once exclaimed, " Oh ! no, thank God, it's not me ! " The Princess Elizabeth stood near, and the poor apothe- cary made sure that in addressing Her Koyal Highness, he 16 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. must at last be right: but no! the King, "regardless of grammar," intervened with " No, doctor, it's not her.'" Of course it was now explained that the "new patient" was "the authoress of Evelina," as that self-centred lady loved to call herself; but if I have given this extract it is to suggest the probability that the Queen and Princesses really needed the services of to quote Lady Anne Hamilton "a very clever and scientific gentleman who resided in London, and was appointed by Her Majesty to teach herself and the six Prin- cesses geography, astronomy, arithmetic, and (not ' the use of the globes'; but) a much more practical science, the nature of the funds.'' 1 (!) "Besides this, he was asked as a favour io settle the very deranged accounts of the Princesses : evidently they needed financial coaching. His expenses were considerable in attending the Eoyal Family, as he was always obliged to go fall-dressed, in a bag-wig and silk stockings, to hire carriages for the journey to Windsor, to live .at an inn, and to sleep there if they chose to take lessons on two following days, by which he was obliged to neglect and disoblige his private scholars." Lady Anne goes on to assert that " for all this he received no remuneration ivhateuer : " perhaps the honour of instruct- ing a crowned Queen and six grown-up Princesses, in the three "E's," and in the mysteries of the funds, was con- sidered sufficient compensation ; but Lady Anne's state- ments respecting the Court must always be taken cum grano. George IV. was by no means without cultivation, and proved himself a liberal as well as a competent, patron of art and a skilled connoisseur in articles of virtti, of which he had one of the finest collections ever made by one individual, nor was he a bad judge of pictures. All the Royal Family were musical, and the King was no mean performer on several instruments. He had a fairly good bass voice, and sang with feeling, taste, and finish ; he was also a clever mimic, and we have it on the authority of Lord Brougham, that H.M. too often displayed THE "FIRST GENTLEMAN" IN EUEOPE. 17 this dangerous gift. Seguier (Keeper of the King's pictures) bore his testimony to the rare ability of His Majesty in this accomplishment, which, at all events, showed his shrewd appreciation of character. Lord Holland was equally pro- ficient in the art of mimicry, and the King and he would often amuse themselves in turning public men into ridicule. They succeeded particularly well as regarded Lord Thurlow and Lord Loughborough ; but Lord Erskine's imitation of Lord Mansfield was even better. Lord Erskine indeed had a great reputation for humour of all kinds and he uttered and wrote many witticisms. George IV. was called by some the " first blackguard,'' while styled by others the " first gentleman," in Europe. Apparently there was in him a good deal of the one and a little of the other, and we ought to be glad that we can resuscitate some of the few forgotten traits which tend to redeem his much abused, but perhaps not maligned, character : no- doubt he made many enemies by firmly refusing to gratify the ambition of the incompetent sharers of his pleasures, by appointing them to any position, however remote, in the Government. I remember in my youth hearing of the following inci- dent indicative of the King's courtesy : Driving one day through the Avenue in Windsor Park, he met a coarse, blustering fellow, one of those who- entertained no admiration for Koyalty ; on being told by a companion who sat beside him, that the King's phaeton was approaching and that he must uncover, he replied with an oath, and loud enough to be heard by His Majesty, " I won't take my hat off to anybody." The King drew up, lifted his own hat, and said with a smile worthy of "Prince Florizel," " I would take off mine to the meanest of my subjects." The man was dumb- founded, but by the time he had sufficiently recovered him- self to return the salute, the King had driven on. A somewhat similar anecdote illustrative of better VOL. I. 3 18 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. qualities in his nature than tradition is wont to credit him with, is the following : The King was taking an airing on the Downs near Brighton, in the spring of 1820, accompanied by Sir B. Bloom- field, when a farmer rode up to, and addressed the latter, respectfully observing that the horses, in diverging from the usual track, had got upon land where seed was sown, the trampling of which would do him injury. The Sovereign bowed, signified his approbation of the notice thus given, and the horses were instantly guided to the high road. THE KING. Among instances of the social forbearance of which the King was capable on occasion, is one recorded in an anecdote of the father of Assheton Smith, the great huntsman, who, like his son, was remarkable for his doggedness when once he had taken a determination, even after he was made aware of its unreasonableness. It has been said that the difference between firmness and obstinacy consists in the fact that the former is a strong will, and the latter a strong won't : Mr. Smith's inflexibility was of the latter description, and he once played it off upon the King. George IV., on his return journey from Ireland, was THE KING AND ASSHETON SMITH'S FATHER. 19 the guest of the Marquis of Anglesey, at Plas Newydd, and it had been arranged at a public meeting at Carnarvon (Mr. Smith in the chair), that during the Eoyal visit, an address should be presented to His Majesty, a deputation of twelve leading men being appointed to go up with it to Plas Xewydd. In the course of the proceedings, a question was raised as to how the committee should be costumed to enter the Royal presence. Some suggested Court suits ; some, uniforms or official dress ; the chairman, at that moment attired as a county squire in early morning deshabille, was wearing a cutaway coat with breeches and leather gaiters, and said that whatever others might do, he should make no change in the clothes he was wearing. He was as good as his word too ; for when the deputation met at his place, Vaenol, to proceed to the Marquis's house, they were not a little surprised to find their chairman habited in the very same suit he had worn at Carnarvon. On their introduction to the King, Mr. Smith as Chairman was first in order ; His Majesty received him w r ith the most cordial welcome, taking both his hands in his own, and, addressing him with the greatest kindness, without appearing to notice his uncourtly appearance, said, " Mr. Smith, do you know your son Tom accompanied me in his yacht to and from Holyhead." Smith, who had all the instincts of a man of birth, notwithstanding his occasionally perverse temper, felt thoroughly ashamed of himself, but was frank and honourable enough to acknowledge that he had been over- come by the generosity of the King, of which he always spoke afterwards with admiration. Byron, having met the Prince Regent at a party, was by His Royal Highness's own desire presented to him. Mr. Pallas says, " The Regent expressed to him his admiration of Cliilde Harold's Pil~>), entered the service in 1779, and became a lieutenant in 1785, a post-captain in 178G, a rear-admiral in 1790, a vice-admiral in 1794, an admiral in 1799, and an admiral of the fleet in 1811. As a midshipman he served in the Prince George, 98, flag of Rear- Admiral Digby, witnessing Rodney's relief of Gibraltar, and taking part in the defeat of Don Juan de Langara on the IGth of January, 1780. He was present also at the capture of the Prothce, 64, and then again shared in one of the many reliefs of Gibraltar. He next served on the North American Station, both in the flagship and in the Warwick, 50, and subsequently in the West Indies, in the Bnrfleur, 98, flagship of Lord Hood; but his stay as a midshipman in the West Indies was rather a tour of pleasure than a cruise on service. As a lieutenant the Prince served successively in the Hebe, 40, and Pegasus, 28 ; hut at the age of 21 was made post-captain and appointed to the command of the latter vessel, in which he sailed to North America, and thence to the West Indies. On the station ho made the acquaintance and was for a time under the orders, of Nelson, whose high esteem he seems to have acquired. lie afterwards commanded the Andromeda, <3'2, and the Valiant, 74. As an admiral he flew his flag only on two or three occasions, and then for very short periods. GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. being part of the squadron commanded by Admiral Eodney, when that officer took the whole of a Spanish convoy. Among their ships was a sixty-four gun, which was after- wards named the "Prince William," out of compliment to the young Prince. When the Spanish Admiral, Don Juan de Langara, who was taken prisoner, was brought on board the Prince George, he observed one of the middies actively engaged in his duties, which he was performing with so conscientious an air that he asked who he was, and being informed that he was the son of the King of England, he replied : " Well may England be mistress of the sea when the sons of her Kings take such earnest part in her naval service." In 1827 the Duke of Clarence was appointed Lord High Admiral, but did not long retain that office. The Duke of Wellington, then Premier, having complained of the inevitable expenses of the Eoyal progresses, His Eo} r al Highness resigned in 1829. When he came to the throne in 1830 he expressed his perfect satisfaction with the Duke's administration of public affairs. wmiam iv. William IV. possessed considerably more diplomatic tact than appears to have been generally supposed ; his reign, though brief, was not unfertile in incidents of importance. Louis Philippe being called to the throne of France in the year of his own accession, he at once acquiesced in his election, and maintained well-balanced relations with France, with a view to repressing the aggressions of Eussia; nor was his policy in Belgian affairs in 1831 without its wisdom. Other marking events of this short reign were the change in the Irish regime, the passing of the Eeform Bill, and the abolition of slavery. When Louis Philippe came to the throne, and Talleyrand was appointed Ambassador from the French Court to that of England, the Prince's first interview with William IV. produced an impression which is thus noted in the diary of that statesman : KING WILLIAM IV. 41 " William IV. had been in the navy, and had retained the tone and manners which that service generally gives. He was an honest man, rather narrow-minded, and whom the Whig party had always counted in its ranks ; nevertheless, since his recent accession to the throne, June 26, 1830, he had retained the Tory ministry of his brother and predecessor, George IV. He received me very kindly, stammered a few friendly phrases in incorrect French about King Louis Philippe, and expressed his pleasure at the closing in Paris of the Socictcs Populaires. During the four years I was in London," he continues, "I have nothing but praise to record of the behaviour of the King and Queen of England, who eagerly took every opportunity of making themselves pleasant both to me and to my niece, the Duchesse de Dino." William IV. had a great command of language, and without being eloquent, was yet a fluent speaker. Sir Astley Cooper has mentioned in his diary, a dinner at Sir Hutton Cooper's, where the Duke of Clarence was present ; and on His Royal Highness' s health being drunk, he spoke, and spoke well, for nearly a quarter of an hour. Sir Astley, alluding to this speech one day, the Duke replied, " Oh ! but the Duke of Kent was the best after-dinner speaker I ever heard." Cooper attended Lord Minister for a compound fracture, sustained by a fall from his horse. Pring had originally taken the case, but complications supervened, and he called in Sir Astley. During the whole time the patient w r as ill, the Duke of Clarence used to visit his son daily, and on these occasions must have taken note of the surgeon's character- istics, for when he afterwards needed a surgical operation himself, it was Sir Astley whom he selected to perform it. The Duke's considerate nature was manifested on this occasion ; before submitting to it he begged he might have time to write to his Duchess, urging "It is now eleven in the morning, and I shall not see her before six this evening, so it would be right to calm her apprehensions." 42 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Sir Astley was often sent for to Bushey, and speaks of Queen Adelaide as " simple and elegant, but without any pretensions ; always affable and thoughtful." When the Council of the Royal Society waited on William IV. and Queen Adelaide, His Majesty made them a very eloquent speech, and gave them good practical advice, en- joining them to fraternize with philosophers and men of science in all parts of the globe, to consider themselves servants not of England alone, but of the whole civilized world. The Queen asked to see a list, from the beginning, of members and their autographs, and was particularly interested in that of Sir Isaac Newton. If King William and Queen Adelaide were readily ac- cepted by the nation in general, no locality can be said to have testified its loyalty to the new Sovereigns more zealously than Brighton. The reception of the Eoyal pair in that then fashionable marine town was enthusiastic, for Brighton was flattered at being chosen for a first visit at so early a period of the reign. The inhabitants grudged no expense that would aid in expressing their frantic delight, in interpreting which there was perhaps a little too much demonstrativeness, excusable only in the first burst of loyalty, but the local enthusiasm continued to froth over, long after the triumphal arches were crumpled up, their laurels withered, and the sailor boys, of whom they may be said to have been built, had resumed their normal occupation yes, long after the Roman candles had burnt themselves out, the red fire had gone off in smoke, and the Catherine wheels had whirled themselves into ugly, shape- less skeletons. All this, with the regattas and illuminations over and gone, Brighton so far forgot the laws of good breed- ing, as literally to mob the Royal carriages whenever they appeared in the streets ; the forbearance with which the Royal pair tolerated the super-amiable attentions of their marine subjects, failed to be understood by the gushing population, who took such undue advantage of the Royal NARROW ESCAPE OF MR. EWART, M.P. indulgence that it was no uncommon mistake to throw petitions into the Boy al carriage during its daily drive along the King's Road. The King was so kind-hearted that it became necessary to advise him to pay no heed to such addresses, and the police were instructed to increase their vigilance and put a stop to these unseemly proceedings.* Queen Adelaide is described by Princess de Lieven in her Correspondence, not only as " of a most amiable disposition, ' r but as being " endowed with singular tact and sense, and as possessing a great deal more character than any one gave- her credit for." A curious incident took place at Court early in the reign. The honour of knighthood was to be conferred on the Mayor of Liverpool ; and Mr. Ewart, M. P., heading a deputation from the corporation of that city, to present an address to the King on the occasion, approached and dropped on one knee before His Majesty. The King, taking him for the Mayor, seized the royal sword, and was about to inflict knighthood on him, when Ewart, seeing the irreparable blunder on the point of being committed, was just in time to exclaim somewhat un- ceremoniously in his haste, "Not me; please don't knight me." "Where is the Mayor, then?" said the King, also- startled from his propriety. That functionary, who had remained modestly in the background, was at once brought forward, placed in the required position, and received the honour intended for him. As " the King can do no wrong," had the ceremony gone through, Mr. Ewart would necessarily have been irrevocably knighted ; but as the King would have addressed him, " Rise- up, Sir Timothy Timkins " (or whatever that mayor's- nomenclature may have been) how would Mr. W. Ewart,. : " When King George III. and his Consort were at Cheltenham, in 1788, they seem, with similar forbearance, to have conformed to the whim of the inhabitants. His Majesty observing good-humouredly to the Queen : " We must walkabout and show ourselves for two or three days to please these good people, and after that we will walk about to please ourselves." 44 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. M.P., have been designated for the remaining term of his natural life ? It is doubtful whether the Pope himself could have un-Timkinsed him ! * Although the King was not remarkable for brilliancy, and .some one about the Court is said to have observed, " What can you expect of a fellow who has got a head shaped like a pineapple ? " William IV. became a favourite with all parties ; the honesty and conscientiousness of his nature and his continual manifestation of consideration for others, won all those about him. In his religious belief and cori- -sisteiit practice there was an almost childlike simplicity and fervour, and no deathbed could be more edifying than was his. The last days of his life, during which he was fully conscious of his approaching end, testified to a calm and dignified acquiescence in his fate, and notwithstanding the distressing effects of his illness, which was pulmonary, he saw his ministers and transacted business to the very last. The Archbishop of Canterbury remained at the palace and read parts of the liturgy to him several times in the day, besides administering the holy sacrament. The King always dismissed him with " A thousand, thousand thanks," very cordially uttered. When near the end, it was thought desirable to move him into another room, to assist his breathing by changing the air : as it happened, this was the room in which George IV. expired, and there William IV. died also. William IV. was not without a sense of humour, and * An accident similar to this, actually happened in 1788, on the occasion of the law promotion of Mr. Scott and Mr. Archibald Macdonald to the honours of Solicitor- General and Attorney-General respectively. When they went up to kiss hands, Mac- donald, being first in order, the King dubbed him a knight ; but when the officer in waiting was directed to bring up Mr. Scott to undergo the ceremony, he begged leave to decline that honour. His Majesty, however, was peremptory exclaiming, "Pooh ! pooh ! nonsense ! I will serve them both alike." As the Koyal command admitted of no reply, Scott had no choice but to comply, so knelt, received the .accolade, and rose up " Sir John ! " It is hardly worth while to mention the O'Flanigan case. THE DUKE OF CLARENCE AND THE BUTCHER'S BOY. 45 could tell an amusing story now and then, in a way which showed how fully he relished the joke. One day, at a dinner given by George IV., at " The Cottage," Windsor Park, in 1827, he related with much drollery the following personal anecdote. " I had been riding one day," said His Royal Highness^ " unattended by a groom, between Teddington and Hampton Wick, when I was overtaken by a butcher's boy on horse- back, with a tray of meat under his arm. " * Nice pony that of your'n, old gen'leman,' said he. " ' Pretty fair,' I answered. " ' Mine's a good uu, too,' was his rejoinder ; and he added^ ' I'll wager you a pot o' beer, old man, you don't trot to Hampton Wick quicker nor me.' " I declined the match," continued the Duke, "and the butcher's boy, as he struck his single spur into his nag's side, turned back and called out with a contemptuous sneer,. ' I knowed you was only a muff.' The " single spur " savours of the yokel, but according to Hudibras, is not so senseless as it seems, the cavalier described by Butler, wore " but one spur, As wisely knowing could he stir To active trot one side of his horse, The other would not hang." If William IV. did not inherit his father's habit of triple repetition (which, however, ran in the family), he employed certain forms of speech peculiar to himself. Among them was- one he always used when any question was brought before him on which he was not prepared to pronounce ; thus, when the good and amiable king was on his deathbed, and was watch- ing through the open window the sun sinking below the horizon, he said reflectively to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who stood near " Ah ! my friend, I shall not see another sun set." '' We don't know that, Sire," answered the prelate, "and 46 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. I pray heartily that your Majesty may yet see many more." " That's another matter," replied the King, falling into his habitual idiom. As an instance of the kindness of heart of William IV., Mrs. Adolphus now aged 95 tells me that one of the maids of honour of Queen Adelaide being her first cousin, one day, when she went to see this lady at Windsor, the latter took her into Her Majesty's private drawing-room. The Queen, who was of a most affable disposition, noticed her, and talked to her in the pleasantest way, and the King, happening to come in, was equally agreeable and amiable ; when she was leaving, the King said, " She mustn't go away without a remembrance," and looking about, he fixed on an elegant little etagere, and desired it might be put into the carriage that she might take it home. It stands in her drawing-room still, and the old lady sets great store by it. Popularity is apt to be shortlived, but not necessarily by the fault of the object of it. In the case of William IV., who was immediately succeeded by a young Queen, round whom circumstances had thrown a halo of universal interest, it was scarcely to be expected that even his virtues should be long remembered in the brilliant prospects of the new reign begun under the auspices of a Sovereign who presented herself with all the prestige of youth and sex. There had been a long succession of kings of very full age, and a chivalrous enthusiasm was at once kindled w r hen the proclamation was heralded in the novel form of " Le Poi est mort. Vive la Heine" and that Queen, a child a girl in her teens. There must be many now 7 living who remember the coronation of the girl-Queen with all its attendant pomp and its special interest the long summer day, the universal stir throughout the length and breadth of the land ; the flocking to London of all who could afford the expedi- tion, and the extortion of London hotel and lodging-house- QUEEN VICTORIA'S CORONATION. 47 keepers who naturally sought to make a harvest out of so rare an occasion. Not only were they beset with endless applications from country sightseers, but even London house-owners and residents, at a distance from the Abbey, migrated for the night, and we were among those who deemed it preferable to pay a fabulous price for a night's lodging in Parliament Street to the chance of being mobbed and perhaps trampled on in transitu if we had tried to make our way from Cumberland Gate to the Abbey, in the morning. Those who did not, or could not, accomplish the distance over night, started, even from localities within a couple of miles, at five or six o'clock in the morning ; already at that early hour the streets were thronged, and it was all that the police could do to keep order. As it was, but only as is usual on such occasions, there were numerous acci- dents many fatal in all parts of the town ; whether from the overwhelming mass of persons trying to force their way in the same direction at the same time, or from swell-mobs- men doing then* utmost to create confusion and to take advantage of it. At night the illuminations proved an- other source of many disasters, and I think it was on this occasion (or perhaps that of the Eoyal wedding) that little Lady Caroline Barrington fell out of the carriage and was killed. It- has been remarked that although the population of London was so much more dense at the time of the Queen's Jubilee, and although increased facilities of loco- motion brought so many more people to the metropolis for the later event, order was so much more effectually kept by the police, that the casualties were incomparably fewer : indeed, the public fair celebrated for three days in honour of the coronation, and for which Hyde Park was unreservedly handed over to the mob, was far more prolific in accidents and offences, than the streets, to say nothing of the serious damage to the trees, the rails, and the turf: this latter 48 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. was completely and entirely trodden away, so that it re- quired years to restore it to its previous condition ; but- it was essentially the people's holiday, and they took that as a matter of course. A curious sight it was, on that memorable 28th of June, and one eminently suggestive to the philosophic mind, to witness the eager and determined rush, all in one direction, of ever and ever increasing masses of people, gathering as they approached the chosen spot, all attired, as if by common consent, in their best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, all pos- sessed by one idea, all absorbed by one object, and all acting on the principle of " every one for himself, and chance for us all," each seeking to outrun the others and to push himself into the best place attainable, at the expense of his neighbour, while all seemed to have made up their minds that no accident of any kind would, or could, interfere with their enjoyment of the show. Day dawn was ushered in by the boom of a salvo of artillery, but Nature seemed unmoved by the solemn appeal, and the morning broke gloomily ; even a smart shower,, aided, perhaps, by the guns, fell about eight o'clock. So absorbing, however, was the general pre-occupation, that although it fortunately damped the dust of the roads, it failed to damp the irrepressible ardour of the eager popula- tion, and an earthquake might, as at Thrasimene, have " rolled unheededly away." On rushed, bravely pushing their way, resolute Cockneys,, followed by country cousins (whom they would probably have gladly seen several times removed), so steadily bent on the prospective pageant, that the condition of the atmosphere became a scorned consideration.* It is a curious fact that though the morning had remained persistently dull, there was a sudden and unexpected * The Chancellor of the Exchequer reckoned that '200.000 had been paid for seats alone ; and the number of persons who flocked into London for the occasion; was estimated at 500,000. SCENES OF THE CORONATION DAY. 49 change, exactly at the supreme moment when the diadem was placed on the brow of the youthful sovereign ; the skies all at once smiled, and a bright gleam of sunshine burst through the Abbey window and shed its radiance on her anointed head. We may therefore date " Queen's weather," now become proverbial, from that auspicious moment ; the remainder of the day was all that a June day and a coronation-day ought to be. All London had risen so early, and those who were able to pay for seats had been forced to make their way to them at so uncouth an hour that the time they had to wait before an incident could occur, proved sadly wearisome, and any break in the monotony of the slowly passing hours was welcome, especially to those seated on the temporary- stands ; the spectators at the windows were not very much better off, few caring to vacate their places lest any one else should take a fancy to them in their absence ; they probably remembered the schooldays' proverb, " Q-wi va a la chasse, perd sa place" when the action generally followed the word. The proverbial dog had created his usual sensation, had been started, cheered and hooted as he pursued his terrified course between the compact human hedges which skirted the road on either side : another long pause and then another wave of human voices came floating on the air from distance to distance along the ranks. What could it be ? Every indi- vidual eagerly pressed forward, and then those who in their turn, saw, took up the cheers with renewed spirit ; a striking group had come in sight only a " horse and his rider"; but what a horse ! What a rider ! Each perfect after his kind, and both apparently conscious of their individual splendour and of their fitness for each other. The horse, proudly and gracefully arching his neck under his handsome caparisons, curvetted and caracoled, but like the Holy Dancers in the Echternach procession, who dance two steps forward and one step back, naturally made but small VOL. I. 5 50 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. advance ; both he, however, and the rider who sat him with unparalleled grace and ease, seemed by no means un- willing to linger under the eyes of the admiring thousands,, who applauded to the echo the prancing of the charger and the admirable horsemanship of the cavalier. This part of the programme was no doubt the happy result of careful practice, and the time it occupied must have been a matter of calculation, for Lord Alfred Paget (worthy to be the young Queen's Equerry) was the har- MARSHAL SOULT. binger of the approaching procession, foremost in which appeared the commanding and venerable figure of Marshal Soult a martial personality, and every inch a soldier- representing the King of the French. Loud and enthusi- astic cheers interpreted the admiration of all beholders, and told him how cordial was the welcome offered him by the people of England. The Marshal's carriage was a grand historical relic, and had belonged to the Grand Condc ; if antique, it was also picturesque in form, and gorgeous in its trappings, and the- WELLINGTON SOULT. 51 richly bedizened horses who drew it, contributed to render it a not-to-be-forgotten feature in the pageant. No doubt this officer intended to impress the British public, and he unquestionably succeeded.* Soult's appearance within the Abbey, preceded by heralds and ushers, was a signal for a universal cheer, which was renewed when, arrived at the end of the nave, he entered the chancel. He walked alone, with the martial bearing of a warrior, and his suite followed him at a distance, which made his entry very effective ; whether pn account of his age, or from political rather than personal consideration, the respect shown him was plainly, greater than that with which other ambassadors were received. Croker's malicious article, assuming an insulting tone towards him, and purposely timed to appear in the Quarterly, had not the effect he intended, of unpopularizing the veteran soldier, for his reception, not only at the coronation, but everywhere during his stay in England, was strikingly enthu- siastic. The course followed by the Duke of Wellington, whose goodness of heart and refined delicacy led him to defer the publication of the tenth volume of Despatches, because he thought those relating to the battle of Toulouse would be felt to be uncomplimentary to the Marshal, shows the differ- ence, whether in taste or feeling, between the two men. Strange to say, Soult and Wellington had never met till that day, and the first conversation they ever had together was in the great hall of Apsley House, where the Duke received the Marshal on his arrival there, for the banquet given by His Grace on that great occasion. * While on the subject of the coronation, it may be worth noting that in May, 1820, when occurred the death of the Hon. Louis Dymoke, the championship of England which had been held by him as a right appurtenant to the manor of Scrivelsby, devolved upon a clergyman, " whose duty," says the writer of the obituary notice, " it will become, to ride into Westminster Hall on a charger at the next coronation and challenge any man who denies the title to the crown, of the new King or Queen." The Dymoke motto is Pro rege dimico. 52 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Soult's attention, it is said, was, immediately on his entrance, arrested by Canova's marble statue of Napoleon, and he expressed his admiration of this fine work of art. On the Duke's remarking that it always struck him the globe represented in the Emperor's hand was too small for the size of the figure, Soult replied with ready wit and diplomatic courtesy " C'est, voyez vous, Due, que 1'Angleterre n'y est pas comprise." In a letter from Madame Mohl to her husband (to whom she was then not yet married) we find a singular description of the coronation pageant, written in an invidious spirit, with the assumption of a nil admirari tone which may proceed from malice, affectation, ignorance, or frivolity, but dwelling on trifles, and making not one single remark such as so unique an occasion ought to have suggested. After describing the appearance of the Queen, giving an account of Her Majesty's train (she does not mention the royal robes) and her eight train-bearers and their trains, she falls into somewhat of a bathos by winding up with, " I never saw anything so pretty;" and yet, with the experience of forty-five years upon her head, she might be expected to view such a sight with more seriousness and to speak of it with more dignity than is displayed throughout this letter. She alludes also to the ''trains" of the peeresses, the " trains " of the ladies-in-waiting, and others, and adds, " in short, trains played the principal part in the ceremony; " it is to be regretted she did not manage to introduce a railway train finally, she allows that " the music was splendid, and the whole thing very amusing. 1 ' 1 Yet the scene presented by the interior of the Abbey was of such extreme brilliancy that the Turkish ambassador albeit accustomed to the gorgeousness of Oriental pageants stood so entranced at the magnificence of the coup d'ceil as he entered, that it was necessary to arouse him to a sense of the occasion ; even some moments elapsed before he could be marshalled to his allotted place. THE CROWN. 53 Madame Mohl's account, though dated June 29th, the very next day after the event, gives none of those details which might be expected from a person of observant mind and one occupying a literary and social position such as hers ; it is therefore in vain to seek there for the corroboration of a vague recollection of my own that during the function, there occurred an accident which I have never seen men- tioned in print, and so many of the spectators have now joined the majority that it would be difficult, after this long interval, to substantiate the fact : it relates to the royal crown of England borne on a crimson velvet cushion by the Lord High Steward the crown of St. Edward.* I recently asked Mrs. Leycester Adolphus, who was within the Abbey and is now aged ninety-five, whether she had any recollection of the circumstance that the noble func- tionary had, by treading on the train of his velvet mantle, as he approached Her Majesty, disturbed the equilibrium of his sacred charge, so that it tottered nearly to the ground. She immediately replied, " No, it was as he was retreating backwards down the steps ; " and it seemed satis- factory to receive this corroboration of my own recollection. Supposing the occurrence to have taken place, it is per- fectly natural that it should have remained unrecorded, for even in enlightened England there are probably a sufficient number of superstitious people to have seen in it an untoward omen, of which happily there has never been any realization. Whether the crown had or had not a fall on the occasion of Her Majesty's coronation, there is no reason to doubt the fact of a subsequent accident. On the 9th of August, 1845, * The crown used for the actual coronation of Queen Victoria was made under Her Majesty's special direction and after a design supplied by herself. It has been stated on Sir T. Hammond's authority that the crown used at George IV.'s coronation was hired of Kundell and Bridge for A'7,000, with three or four thousand pounds more, by way of interest, because of the delay in the payment. Had it been purchased, the cost would have been 70,000, au expense which Lord Liverpool refused to sanction. 54 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Her Majesty went in State to the House of Lords to pro- rogue Parliament in person. The crown was carried on a velvet cushion by the Duke of Argyll * (Lord High Steward). As the Duke was receding from the throne after the ceremony, he forgot the two steps behind him, by which the floor of the throne was raised from the ground, and when he reached them, stumbled, so that the crown fell from its cushion on to the ground, and several of the stones dropped out. The Queen graciously expressed her hopes that the venerable Duke was not hurt, and begged him not to be troubled at the mishap. As soon as the Royal party had left, the " House "-keeper appeared and requested those present not to approach till the stones had been collected uninjured. It is curious to note that the accident was the subject of some comment in the House that day, and that the Duke of Wellington appeared much concerned about it. Imme- diately after the function was over, the Queen and Prince Albert started for their trip to the Continent, and no mishap of any kind is on record in connection with the uncanny incident. There was a thunder of applause, and tears of emotion might be seen on many faces when the aged Duke of Wel- lington knelt to offer his homage to the Royal child who, no doubt, was herself more moved than any spectator of the suggestive incident. The marked alteration in the Duke's countenance and gait, the increased stoop in his figure, the snowy whiteness of his hair, and other indications of age and advancing infirmity, produced a painful impression on all present. The signs of breaking which were beginning to tell on the Duke's appearance seem to have been first ob- served at the time of the Queen's coronation ; in all the reports and accounts of this grand function, the remark occurs in a more or less pronounced form. * Seventh Duke, b. 1777. LOED EOLLE. 55 When the venerable Lord Bolle, aged ninety-five, who LordRoiie. had already slipped on the steps of the throne, came in his turn to do homage, the young Queen, in whose heart a spontaneously benevolent respect for age surmounted the dry dictates of Court etiquette, turning to those about her, said with lovable naivete, "May I not get up to meet him? " and without waiting for permission, rose and advanced down two or three steps to spare the aged peer the risk of another fall.* That simple act, in an instant, touched every heart, and won the loyal affection of all present : the expression of this feeling on their part burst forth unchecked, echoing through the vast building, and the incident will live in the pages of history after all those whose sympathies it drew have ceased to remember it. The dignity of the Queen's manner, which has been admired in her, through life, was maintained even in that departure from prescribed form, and struck all who saw it by its supreme grace. Charles Greville says that " the different actors in the function were very imperfect in their parts, and had neglected to rehearse them." One can hardly be surprised at that, when one sees how utterly igno- rant of ceremonial people always are at the most ordinary w r eddings, baptisms, or funerals. * The anecdotes that might ba collected of Lord Bolle, " the great Devonian peer," would fill a volume. His marriage with Lady Trefusis, which he hoped would result in giving him an heir to his vast wealth, was neither happy nor productive, and in the matter of eccentricities there was not much to choose between the pair, except that those of his lordship were not unamiable. His fondness, among all that was Devonian, for squab pie, was remarkable, but it was also remarkable that though he would not sit down to dinner unless this dish were on the table, he constantly proceeded ab ovo usque ad mala, without remembering its presence. Lord Rolle, among his countless other peculiarities, was remarkable for his pro- vincialisms, and all who knew him greatly enjoyed the recurrent " this 'eres " and "that theres " in his conversation. At his death some wag chalked up the follow- ing, in which is also introduced a reference to the liberal scale on which his extremities were built : " Here lies John Lord Kolle, of hand and foot so rare, Who's left ' this 'ere ' to go and try ' that there.' " 56 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Lord John Thynne told him that " no one knew what was to be done but the Archbishop and himself (who had rehearsed), Lord Willoughby (experienced in these matters), and the Duke of Wellington ; consequently there was con- tinual difficulty and embarrassment, and the Queen never knew what she was to do next." It seems there was a blander as to the moment for Her Majesty's leaving her chair to enter St. Edward's Chapel, and this put out the Archbishop very much. Her Majesty was even compelled to address Lord John Thynne in a whisper every now and then, with, " Pray tell me what I am to do r for they don't know ; " and when the orb was put into her hand she had to ask what she was to do with it ! "Your Majesty is to carry it, if you please," said Lord John. " Am I ? " said the little Queen ; " it is very heavy." There was a (surely unpardonable) mistake in the size of the ruby ring, which had been made to fit the fifth, instead of the fourth finger, and the Archbishop was obliged to force it on ; but it was so tight that as soon as the ceremony was over the Queen had to call for iced water to enable her to remove it. It is probable that, throughout the busy programme of this eventful day, of the thousands who were spectators of the various details and the thousands of others who read of them, only a small minority reflected on the difficult part a part from which there was no escape that fell to the lot of the young and inexperienced girl who had been made the nucleus and centre of it all. I remember hearing a thoughtless young woman exclaim, " Shouldn't I just like to be in her place ! " That crude remark has often recurred to rne since, and at the time it convinced me that if a satisfactory proof had been wanted of the absolute unfitness of that person for the office she coveted, it existed in the exclamation itself : besides this, it seemed startlingly to reveal all the difficulties, THE QUEEN'S DEMEANOUR. 57 all the apprehensions, all the embarrassments of the young Queen's new and unrehearsable position the wish to do right, the fear of going wrong, of committing any breach of prescribed order and etiquette in so solemn and so public a ceremonial, in which a single blunder might suddenly bring together the sublime and the ridiculous ; for had the smallest irregularity been perceived it must have been fatal and irreparable ; whatever happened on that day was to pass into history. Instead of this, how did the youthful Sovereign conduct herself under the trying ordeal ? No one could have detected an instant's departure from the modest and grace- ful bearing, the noble self-possession, the unflagging courage and calm dignity with which Her Majesty fulfilled her allotted part ; standing, so to speak, alone the supremest personage in the whole world, and with the eyes of all civilized nations, present and to come, throughout the entire globe fixed upon her. Statesmen, not of England alone, but of all the Courts of Europe, must have been watching, some with earnest, some with critical interest, every incident of the day, seeing in every act a crucial test of the young and untried monarch's capacity for the arduous duties of her future reign, and doubtless their surprise was great. Perhaps when history comes to deal with the reign of Queen Victoria as that of a departed Sovereign, due credit will be given to the unique attributes of her early character, and justice will be done to the tact, the bravery, and the conscientiousness which, from the earliest hour of her sovereignty, won the respect and admiration of the observant and the thoughtful, who must have seen in the dawn of these admirable qualities an earnest of the prosperity and glory of England under the sceptre of Queen Victoria. There are in contemporaneous history many anecdotes of the young Queen, showing the natural wit, shrewdness, and intelligence, and, above all, the independence so valu- able to one in Her Majesty's position which she already 58 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. possessed at the early age which saw her called to the throne.* Among the most interesting, is one narrated by Major dimming Bruce at the Conservative dinner given to him and Mr. McKenzie, jun., of Seat well, at Forres, in Septem- ber, 1837, he pledging his word for its truth. " Lord Melbourne, in his character of Premier > had to wait upon Her Majesty at Windsor upon State business. When it was concluded the noble lord begged to be allowed to address the Queen on a subject which he felt it to be his duty to press on Her Majesty's attention, viz., 'Would Her Majesty graciously inform him whether there was any individual for whom she felt such a preference that she would wish to have him associated with her in the cares of the sovereignty.' The Queen no doubt felt a little surprised at such an inquiry, but sagely requested to know whether his lordship made it as a Minister of the Crown, and whether he intended she should regard it as a matter of State policy, if so she would endeavour to answer it. " Lord Melbourne replied that under no other circum- stances would he have presumed to address such a question to Her Majesty. " l Then,' said the Queen, 'I must admit there is an individual for whom I entertain a decided preference, and that individual is the Duke of Wellington.' " ' Gentlemen,' concluded Major Gumming Bruce, 'I leave you to figure to yourselves the length of the noble lord's face ! ' " It may be remarked to the credit of the Queen's good sense and appreciation of character while yet very young, * At the time of the Queen's accession, the Whig Ministry still remaining in, the following epigram was found scratched on the window of an inn at Huddersfield : "The Queen is with us," Whigs insulting say, " For when she found us in, she let us stay." " It may be so, but give me leave to doubt, " How long she'll keep you when she's found you out" THE BRIGHTON PAVILION. 59 that, however successfully the intriguing Princess de Lieven may have managed Lord Grey * and others, the diplomatic reserve with which Her Majesty received that insidious Bussian agent, showed with what perspicacity she had taken her measure. Of localities which found themselves in altered circum- stances under the new reign, Brighton woke up one morning to the consciousness that however prosperous her future was to be, she would owe no more advancement to royalty. Brighton had been the spoiled child of two successive Sovereigns, but there its Court favour w r as to end. There were manifest reasons why the place should be distasteful to the Queen, and for one of these the inhabitants had only themselves to thank ; they began on the occasion of the Queen's early visit to the place the same vulgar system of mobbing which they had practised on William IV., and literally drove Her Majesty to seek a marine residence else- where. No one was surprised at this, nor yet that Her Majesty was not attracted by a marine palace which com- manded no view of the sea, and had besides, at least, during the reign of George IV., been turned to questionable account. The Moorish elevation of this Occidental seraglio had never pleased any one but the whimsical King, whose caprices were always humoured, and independently of its bizarre external aspect, the interior was inconvenient and comfortless ; yet the King had been so enamoured of this residence that he had had a " royal road " to it, cut through Gatton Park by means of which, with four fleet horses, he could reach his Caproea by a three hours' drive. What would he say to the present accessibility of his beloved Brighton ! At this time, there were necessarily, many more or less George noble dwellings required in Brighton ; for the King, when Cann * It has been remarked that " the great defect in Lord Grey's character was want of decision ; that he was a vain man easily flattered . . . that his accessibility, his tenderness of heart, his truthfulness, his consistency, were contrasted by weak- nesses which almost rendered them negations." 60 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. there, liked to have his Court and his ministers at hand. One such mansion was that at Kemp Town, huilt for George Canning; I retain a recollection of it, because some little time after that statesman's death, my father thought of buying it, and took me with him when he went over it : but wisely reflecting that progress is apt to move west- ward, he bought one of those, then building, on Brunswick Terrace,* instead. In George Canning's house I remember a subterranean GEORGE CANNING. passage, leading from his study to the beach, where, it was- said, that after the example of another great orator, he was- wont to rehearse his speeches when the sea was at its roughest, trying which voice should out-top the other ; but this was not all ; his elocutional training was the object of * Brunswick Terrace was at that time the Ultima Thule of the town ; in fact, it was not Brighton at all, but " Hove," though now, about the central point of the sea road. The house he bought was therefore a carcase, was finished to his own order, and was the first house in Brighton which had plate-glass windows in one pane, soon approved and copied in other houses. GEORGE CANNING'S ORATORY. 61 much forethought and care : however, he also knew that ars est celare arteni, and those who listened breathlessly to his graceful oratory, which seemed to flow with the exhaust- less spontaneity of a mountain stream, were probably far from supposing that patient and painstaking hours were passed in rehearsing (not as Lord Dufferin suggests " before a" perhaps treacherous "newspaper reporter," but) before a full-length, silent, mirror, in a closely-shut room, those brilliant speeches which were to be the envy and admiration of his fellow statesmen and of the world. I have not forgotten this room, which was of an octagon form ; it was thickly padded, and lined with green baize, and the door closed as hermetically as a door can be made to close ; there was one window which looked out on the beach, and at high water, the sea came up to the wall : entire privacy was thus secured, and the occupant of the room could exercise his lungs to any extent he pleased, in full confidence that he would never be overheard. Some years ago, being in Kemp Town, I tried to obtain another sight of George Canning's padded room ; but found the house occupied as a school for young ladies ; alas ! how evanescent are all things ! the fad of the subterranean passage and the pad of the spouting-room, w r hich might have been called his " oratory," had disappeared even from the memory of the oldest inhabitant ! Had it been made into a boys' school, the muffled chamber might have proved exceedingly useful for birching purposes ; but it is curious that these highly educated damsels, fortified, no doubt, with all the ologies, should never have heard so much as a tradition that the roof under which they studied so profitably, had once sheltered that distinguished orator, the powerful gush of whose eloquence had influenced the condition of the civilized world. Charles Greville's appreciation of George Canning was more favourable to that statesman than that of Sydney Smith, who spoke of him with so much rancour that one is 62 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. led to suppose there must have been some personal pique- sheathed in his remarks. Canning was not only a fluent speaker, but a rapid thinker, and he was oftentimes his own amanuensis, simply because of the irritation he expe- rienced, when dictating, at what always seemed to him the slowness of his secretaries. However, at times, the gout in his hand forbade his employing it, and then he was forced to have recourse to the assistance of others. Greville describes him as on one occasion dictating two important despatches simultaneously the one on Greek affairs to George Bentinck, and the other on South American politics to Howard de Walden, each writ- ing as fast as he could. At the period of his death, Canning was the greatest orator of his time, and if his forensic elo- quence had less power than Brougham's, it was the only thing on which he could be considered inferior to him. Canning's external appearance formed a striking contrast to that of Fox, his dress was always neat though plain, and his knee-breeches and well-drawn-up silk stockings imparted to it a certain style.* His countenance was indicative of the firmness of his purpose, but was overspread with a benevo- lent expression, and his baldness became him, for his high forehead betokened both genius and vigour. When h& spoke, his action was perfectly natural, and there was no appearance of affectation either in his attitude or his in- tonation, this, probably from careful cultivation, was clear and powerful. It is worth noting that notwithstanding all his splendid talents and lofty aspirations, the domain of art seemed to be a closed world to Canning : he understood nothing of painting, and derived no gratification from the sight of a fine picture. * Fox was notorious for the untidiness of his dress. I have seen a paragraph quoted from a morning paper of his day, remarking, as a matter of information, and without any indication of satire, that " Mr. Fox came to the House last night wearing a clean waistcoat.'' BRIGHTON CELEBRITIES. 63 Among family friends residing at Brighton, were the Mr. and Mrs. Basevis whom we often saw, as they were near neighbours, living in Brunswick Square. Miss Basevi Maria, daughter of Joshua and sister of George, Basevi, it will be remembered, married, in 1802, Isaac d'Israeli, and became the mother of Lord Beaconsfield; George Basevi had two sons, one of whom, educated at Dr. Burney's famous school, followed the pro- fession of architect, and being engaged on the restoration of Ely Cathedral, was one day standing on a platform of the scaffolding, and so busily interested in surveying some portion of the work, that he stepped back further than he intended, lost his footing, and fell through a shaft of the depth of forty feet ; the opening through which he passed was, it appears, so narrow that, had he possessed the presence of mind to spread his arms, he might have saved himself with the greatest ease ; as it was, he was picked up dead ; an arch&ological friend of his, a Cambridge chum of my brother's, was standing beside him at the moment, and had just addressed him a question, to which receiving no answer, he turned round, but only in time to see his friend disappear ! In Brunswick Square there lived also at this time, some T old family friends of ours, by name Haweis, grandparents of the popular and eccentric preacher of that name. The Duchess of St. Albaus became a Brighton habituee. ^l?" ' of St. Albans. and purchased a mansion close to Eegency Square, there- after known as St. Albans House. In a place no larger than was the Brighton of those days before even the Bedford Hotel was built Her Grace was naturally the subject of many can-cans. The first time she came to Brighton for the season, she occupied one of the large houses, close to ours, on Brunswick Terrace ; and though it afforded two- and-twenty beds, it used to be said that nineteen of the servants had to be provided with sleeping accommodation outside. Another story among many of a similar charac- ter indicative of her fabulous wealth, and seriously told, was that the Duchess' hair was curled in papillotes of bank- 64 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Lady Byron. The Countess of Aid- Jborougb. notes. Her equipages were handsome and well appointed, making a feature in the fashionable drive along the front, as, very often, she would be driven a la Daumont. Lady Byron and her daughter were also frequenters of this lively sea-side resort, and likewise chose Brunswick Terrace for their residence. Among Brighton celebrities may be reckoned the famous, not to say notorious, Countess of Aldborough, though Paris was the principal scene of her social career. Her bons mots were witty, and tranchants in the extreme, the more easily made, perhaps, that there was no reserve in their pro- * !*>VJ ^" : I * v * * I- . * THE DUCHESS OF ST. ALBAXS. duction. She had, however, excellent points in her character, and in Paris, where a certain amount of Bohemianism passes, the camaraderie of her manners found sympathizers and even admirers. My recollection of her, is of the time at which she occupied the house next door to my father's on Brunswick Terrace, and as she was at that date a curious specimen of rejuvenized antiquity, her appearance was such as to make, and to leave an impression on the mind of a child. Myste- rious stories were whispered about her, and, in truth, she had a witch-like semblance, and her wig, her rouge, her false teeth, short petticoats, ramshackle finery, and altogether COUNTESS OP ALDBOROUGH MRS. FITZHERBERT. 65 unsuitable style of dress and manner, seemed to justify the description she acquired from our old nurse of " an old ewe -dressed lamb fashion." Lady Aldborough lived to a great age, and no doubt her energetic disposition and high spirits did much to maintain her in health. She once fell ill in London, at her house in Brook Street, and had to submit to a consultation of the Faculty ; their verdict was unfavourable, and one of them had to break this opinion to her, by recommending her to send for her children. The patient was too shrewd not to understand what this meant. " Ah ! " said she, "I see you think I'm dying; but, my good sir, my own feelings tell me you are all mistaken ; so be good enough to look at the case the other way, and make up your minds that I am going to recover : let me have all the remedies and the best treatment you can think of." The patient proved more knowing than the doctors, for she not only recovered, but survived for many years. Charles Greville speaks of this extraordinary woman as still living in 1843, and says he met her at Baden, and on the 9th of July, dined with her and Mrs. Murchison (wife of the geologist, afterwards . Sir Roderick) : it was at an hotel table d'hote, where, he writes, " Lady A.'s screaming and strange gestures kept me in alarm lest she should come out with some of those extraordinary things which she does not scruple to say to almost anybody she talks to. She is eighty-seven," he continues, " but still vigorous, and has all her wits about her : only, her memory is gone, for she tells a story and, forgetting she has told it, repeats it almost directly after." Mrs. Fitzherbert's house was on the east side of the Old Mrs -, Fitzherbert. Steine. This abnormal wife of George IV., among other privileges and concessions made to soften down the asperities of her false position, was allowed to sport the Royal liveries, so' that her carnage with servants in scarlet was often to be seen standing about the Steine or VOL. i. (3 66 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. dashing along the drive. She died in that house on March 29, 1837, aged eighty. This once beautiful Miss Smythe had been able to fascinate three successive husbands ; the last, the most important, though not the most reputable,, personage in the world ! The Royal Dukes, George lY.'s brothers, also his cousin and brother-in-law, the Duke of Gloucester, all patronized Brighton. The brother whom I remember the most dis- tinctly, but rather in London than at Brighton, was the The Duke of Duke of Sussex, sometimes familiarly designated as " Uncle Sussex. Buggin." He was long a well-known figure to the residents of Great Cumberland Place, the centre house in the Crescent, being occupied by the lady to whom he was secretly married, Lady Cecilia Underwood, widow of Sir George Buggin, and later, Duchess of Inverness. At her door the equipage of His Eoyal Highness was to be seen more or less frequently at all hours of the twenty-four. As this was- but five doors from ours, it is easy to me to recall the Duke's large and somewhat unwieldy figure as he was. assisted across the pavement from his carriage, by two tall, stalwart lacqueys with powdered hair on their uncovered heads, and wearing undress liveries. The Duke used to sport a black velvet skull-cap, thus showing the shape of his head, which resembled to some- extent that of his royal brother, William IV. The Duke's own residence was in Kensington Palace, and after his marriage with Lady Cecilia was made public, they both lived there. The title of Duchess of Inverness was not conferred on Lady Cecilia without Parliamentary hesi- tation, which occasioned its travesti into " Duchess Never- theless " a parallel to the nickname given by the Parisian populace to the brother of Madame de Pompadour, who,, having teased the King into creating him Marquis de la Vandiere, had the mortification to hear the mushroom title turned by the populace into " Marquis d'avant hier." Mr. Adolphus once told me that during a visit he paid to the; THE DUKE OF CAMBRIDGE. 67 Duke of Sussex at Kensington Palace, among other interesting incidents was the entrance of Lady Cecilia Underwood, who came fortuitously into the room and was retiring, when the Duke called her back and introduced him to her; she remained a few minutes and when she was gone, the Duke took occasion to speak of her in terms of unbounded admira- tion and praise, adding significantly, " The world will hear more of her before long." No doubt she had then made up her mind she should be styled "Duchess," and " Ce que femme veut . . ," &c. ! All the sons of George III. appear to have borne their last illnesses with becoming fortitude, and to have gone out of the world with dignity ; the Duke of Sussex, who was much beloved by those about him, just before his death, was considerate enough to order that all his servants should come to his bedside to take leave of him. With some he shook hands, others were allowed to kiss his hand, and all were much affected by this last act of thoughtfulness. He was buried by his own desire in the Kensal Green Cemetery, but with the addition of Eoyal honours, May, 1843. Of the other Royal Dukes whom I remember, the Duke The Duke of of Cambridge was perhaps, after the Duke of York, the most popular ; though Lady Anne Hamilton * would have us believe there was not a Prince of the house of Hanover who was entitled to any kind of approval. The virulence, however, with which she attacks the successive Courts she describes, is so obvious that it defeats its own purpose. The Duke's bonhomie was proverbial, and was warmly responded to by the people. Wherever he might be, it was impossible for those at all within hearing to be unconscious of his presence : he always spoke in a loud key, and had in- herited his royal father's habit of repeating three times ingeniously described by Horace Walpole as " triptology " any remarks it might occur to him to make, and sometimes * Secret History of the Courts of George 111. and George IV. 68 . GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. for it was more like thinking aloud he forgot how personal they were. He constantly attended the Sunday morning services at St. Paul's, Knightsbridge, in the time of the Eev. W. J. E. Bennett, and occasionally was pleased to express in an audible tone his approbation of the proceedings, and his opinion of the sermon. I remember on one occasion when the officiating clergyman pronounced the exhortation "Let us pray " the Duke bravely responded from his pew : "Aye, be sure ; why not? let us pray, let us pray, let us pray ! ' : On another occasion, while the commandments were being read, I heard him remark " Steal ! no, of course not ; mustn't steal, mustn't steal, mustn't steal." At the opera, this eccentric habit betrayed itself in a still more marked and frequent way. I remember once hearing him all across the house, exclaim, as he moved his opera-glass round the circles " Why, I declare there are not half a dozen pretty girls in the house ; not half a dozen, not half a dozen, not half a dozen." One night when a young pupil of Molique's, a mere hoy, was playing in the orchestra from his master's desk, the Duke who was very observant and also had a keen ear for music, struck by his precocity, sent between the acts for the boy to come up to his box, which was opposite ours, and taking him on his knee entered into a lively conver- sation with him, the Duke's share in the dialogue being heard pretty well all over the house. All that generation of the Royal Family were in the habit of talking in what we will call a cursory way, employing expletives rather expres- sive than choice. " D you ! " I once heard the Duke say to some one at the back of the box, " Can't you keep that door shut ? " THE DUKE OF CAMBRIDGE. 69 The Duke died in July, 1850, leaving behind him a recollection of his kind-heartedness and amiable manners. An instance of the " triptological " habits of George III. was once related to me by an old lady who had met the Eoyal Family at Lul worth, where, though the residence of an old and strict Catholic family, the King was very fond of staying. One evening, when, at a ball given there, Miss Weld, the daughter of the house, and a very handsome girl, was dancing, this lady heard him express his admiration in the characteristic form he had unconsciously adopted. "Fine woman, fine woman, fine woman! Dances well, dances well, dances well." It was when dining at Lulworth, that the King asked that immortalized question about the apple- dumplings. The Duke of Cambridge, it appears, was an excellent judge of wine ; an anecdote in proof of this tells us that one day at a public dinner at the Freemasons' Tavern, he had no sooner put his glass to his lips than he discovered that there must be something wrong with that vintage. " Why ! what's this ? what's this ? what's this ? " he ex- claimed, holding his glass up to the light, and then carrying it to his nose. " Eh ? " he continued to the gentlemen near him, " what do you think ? Hadn't we better get some from the other tables ? This won't do, this won't do, this won't do." Difficult as it may be to account for such a mishap, it turned out on inquiry that this was not the wine that had been intended for the Koyal table. Possibly some wag had changed it ! A semi-royal personage, more or less about London The Duke of during the earlier part of the century, was the Duke of Brunswick, brother of Queen Caroline and son of " Bruns- wick's fated chieftain," who so bravely at Waterloo " Rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell." The son of this distinguished father, and scion of a long line 70 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. of remarkable ancestors was also remarkable, but in quite another way. He was remarkable for his follies, his eccen- tricities, his quarrelsome disposition and tyrannical temper, for his diamonds, and for a number of less admissible peculiarities. In London, he was necessarily a well-known personality wherever he might be, and that " wherever " extended pretty well to all fashionable places of resort the Kow, the Opera, the Clubs . . . &c., &c., &c. A recognized habitue of the coulisses, he might generally be seen on subscription nights, glittering with brilliants, in and out of Fops' Alley. In the "Bow," too, he reckoned as one of the "Dandies" of the day, occupying a supreme place among that frivolous "set," and "made up" to a wonderful extent, as age and fast living began to tell upon his personal appearance, once so prepossessing. His stables were a matter of great pride to him, and he affected a breed of roan horses, for which he paid fabulous prices, all he cared for being that no one else should ever own a horse of that special breed, and of the colour which had been arrived at only by a most elaborate system of crossing. Besides his horses, which might fairly be called his hobby, he availed himself of his privilege as millionaire to indulge in fads innumerable ; and as he was never contradicted, he never had a chance of discovering how ludicrous he became. Sic volo, sic jubeo, &c., was the rule of his life, and that life was well fitted to illustrate the results of such a principle. A more instructive, and cer- tainly a more entertaining, biography could scarcely be offered to the student of human especially royal human- nature. So incongruous a character is altogether abnormal, made up as it was of contraries. In it can be traced liberality and avarice, bravery and self-indulgence, shrewd- ness and folly, caution and rashness, trustfulness and suspicion, generosity and vindictiveness, self-assertion and credulity ; he had not simply les clef ants de ses qualites, but, THE DUKE OF BEUNSWICK. 71 unhappily, his vices so far out-balanced his virtues, that the world has given him credit for none of the latter. His paternal affection for his only daughter by his short-lived .and secret marriage was it even a marriage ? with Lady Charlotte Colville, knew no limits, until " la petite Comtesse" as her father dotingly called her while indulging her to the most exaggerated extent, affronted him a man of no religious principles or even religious sentiment by allowing herself to be converted to Catholicism under the eloquent teaching of the great and irresistible Dominican , Pere Lacordaire. After this event, his paternal vindictiveness was equally boundless, and though he made no opposition to her marriage, and was justly proud of her eldest son, the brave and gallant young Comte de Civry, he heartlessly refused, even after she became a widow, to pay the smallest heed to her touching appeals, ignored her reiterated repre- sentations of the straitened circumstances and hard struggles of her life, and preferred leaving her and her eight children penniless, to bestowing on those he chose to regard as per- verts one sou out of the eighty million francs he bequeathed to the City of Geneva ; bequeathing it in this insane way simply because he did not know what else to do with this fabulous wealth. No doubt there were evil influences at work to widen his alienation from his daughter and her children, in order to profit thereby, and those who brought about this criminal result must have been cruelly unscru- pulous ; for neither did they allow him, even in his will, to remember friends who had made great sacrifices for him, who had clung to him, despite his haughty and tyrannical treatment, and to whose services he had more than once owed his life. Indeed, the Duke's adventures are full of romance, and could supply materials, not for one, but for half a dozen novels. Many characteristic stories are told of this eccentric German prince, whose ideas of personal independence do not seem to have been shackled by any of the restraints of conventionality. 72 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. On the death, at Waterloo, of his father, while he was yet much under age, George IV., his first cousin, and after- wards his brother-in-law, had become his guardian : His Majesty being King of Hanover, and Count Minister, at this time Hanoverian Minister, the affairs of Brunswick fell under his jurisdiction : as soon as the young Duke came of age, he brought against George IV. and Count Miinster charges of maladministration of his fortune, and occupied himself seriously in trying to magnify and to prove his allegations. In the meantime, so intense was his hatred of Count Miinster (" Le Monstre," as he and his party styled him) that he vowed nothing would satisfy him but taking that minister's life. He had a wooden model made of the Count, and spent two hours daily in firing at it with a pistol, so that it was riddled with bullets. In the winter of 1827, he sent the Count a challenge, of which the latter took no notice : the Duke had selected for his second, Tattersall, the famous horse-dealer. On the Duke's first arrival in England, being treated according to his rank as a distinguished foreigner, he had been handed over to the Duke of Sussex, who proceeded to initiate him into English social life, and to lionize him about the metropolis. Among other objects of his curiosity, the Prince intimated to His Eoyal Highness his great desire to witness an execution. As there happened to be one of these "functions" on the tapis, he was informed that his wish could be gratified two days on, at 8 a.m. " So : " said he, " that day will suit me very well, but I must get your Eoyal Highness to have the time changed. Two hours later I could be quite ready ; as I go to Almack's the previous night, I shall probably not get to bed before three or four in the morning." It was delicately hinted that a matter of criminal law must needs take its course, and that, even for a Serene Highness, no alteration could be made in the Newgate arrangements, so that he was finally obliged to conform. THE DUKE OF BRUNSWICK. However, the exhibition did not prove so amusing as he had expected ; for, on getting home, he went straight to bed, and had to remain there a couple of days to recover from the nervous shock. This "grotesque Duke," as some French writer has styled him, made himself even more notorious in Paris than in London ; he was, in fact, what might be called a " comedy Prince " " un Due pour rire " though his title was a very ancient one, and his father and grandfather were heroes. The French have always taken advantage of every opportunity to make game of the grave, phlegmatic, self- dignifying Germans; having, therefore, got hold of one of Germany's aristocracy who laid himself open to so much ridicule, they availed them- selves of the chance with more mirth than mercy. Bondos, lampoons, parodies of German songs, most of them exceed- ingly clever, were employed ad libitum to bring contempt on this souverain declasse, deposed, from a sentiment of national dignity, by his own people and, through him, on the country which had had the misfortune to give him birth ; and really his rnad freaks, his strange and lawless mode of life, and the extraordinary absurdity of his " get up " were such, that while the graver portion of the com- munity could not look upon him without humiliation, the more humorous considered themselves privileged to laugh at him, even to his face. The detail of his unconventional practices and habits would require a volume to itself. As he passed for an eccentric, and was always calling attention to himself in public, it was not surprising he should become the subject of continual gossip, and no doubt the report of his actual vagaries were embellished before they reached the general public. The abnormal appearance he presented when, after rising at 3 o'clock p.m., and spending three- hours on his toilet, he rode or drove in the park, or walked out into the streets, could scarcely be exaggerated. He- possessed a collection of silk wigs of various hues, but all consistiug of small tire-bouchon curls; his face was liberally 74 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. painted with both red and white, and his toilet was pains- takingly elaborated, while diamonds of the finest water glittered upon his garments wherever they could possibly be applied. Of course, when he wore evening dress he had a better opportunity for displaying these gems, of which he had the largest and finest collection in the world. It is said that one night in Paris, being at a fashionable soiree, the ladies crowded round him to an extent which at first flattered his vanity considerably ; but at last their persistent curiosity and admiration became troublesome, and to one of the fair bevy who remarked, " Mais, mon Dieu, Monseigneur, vous en avez partout ! " he replied, " Oui, madame, jusque sur mon calecon ; voulez vous que je vous les fasse voir ? " The Duke never put on the same pair of gloves twice, and all his clothes, discarded with similar recklessness, were of the costliest materials. As he was barely of middle height, he thought proper to wear heels inside, as well as outside, his boots, which made his walk rather peculiar. He would sometimes show himself in the balcony of his house in Paris habited in a rich Oriental costume, and smoking a long Eastern pipe, to the intense amusement of the gaping crowd below. In London he occupied Brunswick House, but his Paris residence was planned, constructed, and worked on the most extraordinary principles : it might be said to be almost automatic. The Duke might have made a great reputation and a great fortune as an engineer ; the various mechanisms he invented and applied in this wonderful Paris palace would have puzzled the heads of half the inventors in France. They were designed to enable him to carry on his existence in the most mysterious way ; for he was suspicious of every one about him, and trusted nobody. He kept under his roof a mine of wealth in notes, specie, and jewels, .and concealed them so cleverly, that no one could possibly obtain access to them but himself, the secret communica- THE DUKE OF BRUNSWICK. 75 tion being masked by the most delicate satin furniture.* In order that he might never be betrayed, after he had designed his occult machinery, he made separate working-drawings of every portion, and had them executed in different parts of Europe, and in such a way that he could put them together himself, each separate portion having no intelligible meaning. A great many of these mechanical appliances were invented to enable him, as much as possible, to be independent of servants. In continual dread of poison, he never ate at home, and the kitchen was employed solely for his household : he dined every day at a different restaurant, never giving previous notice of his coming ; and as he was quite a gourmet, and frequented only first-class houses, he had to ring the changes on the few best. The house was situated in one of the healthiest and most fashionable parts of Paris. We find, in a note to Arsene Houssaye's Confessions^ an elaborate description of the Quartier Beaujon, at one time the Promised Land of poets and artists, stage-players, students, and authors. It occupies a large space at the extremity of the Faubourg St. Honore, and reaches, or rather reached, as far as the Barriere de 1'Etoile. The park, of which the residence was the centre, was formerly the property of Nicolas Beaujon, a wealthy parvenu, hailing from the Bordelaisian vineyards, and who spent a great part of his fortune in founding the Hopital Beaujon. This pro- perty no longer exists as it was in his time ; it is cut up into blocks of superb hotels ; " avenues " and boulevards traverse it, and villas, some of which are little short of palaces, are scattered over it ; the one I speak of larger and :: Notwithstanding all these cleverly-planned precautions, the Duke was the victim of two serious robberies, to say nothing of smaller and unperceivetl depre- dations. One of these took place in 185G ; the other in 1863. The value of his diamonds was estimated at eight million francs, .320,000. f Vol. iii. p. 350 76 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. more magnificent, and also more celebrated than the rest has been rendered famous, first, by the fact that it was- built by Lola Montes, and, secondly, that it became the palace of the eccentric Duke Charles of Brunswick. Mon- selet thus describes it : " . . . Un hotel qu'on dirait bati en pate tendre, est celui de Monsieur le Due de Brunswick, un des personnages les plus renommes par leur faste original, et bien plus conmi a Paris que dans son royaume." I have often passed this extraordinary dwelling ; its im- posing dimensions, and the fortress-like stone wall which surrounds it (surmounted by a revolving clievaux de frise r the slightest touch on any part of which started an alarum of chimes), give it a commanding appearance in the tranquil Eue du Bel-respiro, in which is one side of it, the others form- ing a long stretch in the Avenue Friedland and the Eue Beaujon respectively : five enormous double doors of massive iron, studded with nail-heads and painted bronze green, occurred in the walls and added to the solemnity of its character ; but the interior decorations and furniture were those of an Oriental sybarite. When the Duke drove or rode, whether in the streets or the Bois, attended by his chasseur, every head turned to see him pass, and well they might. His horses were magnificent, and his equipages of the most finished description ; but though his chief object seemed to be the silly one of attracting attention, it never appeared to occur to him that he made himself an object of universal ridicule.. His diet was as curious as the rest : he was remarkably sober with regard to wines and spirits ; but consumed an enormous quantity of trash. It was wonderful how he would go into one confectioner's after another, if any sweet in the etalage took his fancy, and he would eat daintily, but plentifully, of bonbons and petits fours at any hour of the day. He was constantly to be seen at Tortoni's, where he would consume an unlimited number of ices, and when. THE DUKE OF BEUNSWICK. 77 there, instead of ordering up any specified confectionery, preferred lounging into the store-rooms and tasting here and there, often as much to kill time as to indulge his palate : yet notwithstanding these effeminate or, rather, childish caprices, he had given remarkable proofs of high spirit and consummate bravery, and in his futile attempts to recover the political position he had lost, and to regain his ancient principality, he had rather courted than shunned posts of danger, and had gone through some of the boldest feats and hairbreadth 'scapes that ever any hero survived. These warlike episodes in his life read more like fable than reality. The Duke had generously and with great profuseness, also probably with an eye to the .future, assisted Louis Napoleon when in prison, and probably without his succour that Prince would never have escaped from Ham. The two had also entered into a compact to stand by each other, and it was while in England struggling against his guardians and trustees whom he held responsible for the loss of his Duchy (really " Principality ") of Brunswick, that he resolved to take advantage of this treaty and ally himself practically with Louis Napoleon, though his hatred of Napoleon I. and the vengeance he had sworn against him were readily to be accounted for. The Duke of Brunswick is thus most accurately described by the writer of the Diary of the Times of George TV. : * " The Duke just misses being a handsome man ; his figure is light and graceful, and did he but carry his head better he would be a noble-looking creature. His eyes are deep sunk in his head, more so than I ever saw in any one, and his brows are remarkably prominent with shaggy eye- brows. This circumstance gives him a sombre expression, and indeed, the whole cast of his countenance is gloomy, but his features are regular : and when he smiles, there is a transitory sweetness which is very striking, by the contrast * ? Lady Charlotte Bury who may, be relied upon, par exception, in thip. 78 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. with his usual severity of expression. In manner he is very reserved stiff and Germanic. He remained some time conversing with his sister " (Queen Caroline) " in German, occasionally eyeing the lady in waiting, askance. He seemed glad to take his leave." Further on this writer affirms that the Duke's sister, the Princess of Wales, did not seem on very cordial terms with him ; she also says, " He is very silent, and appears somewhat of a misanthrope." As I have often seen the Duke of Brunswick in London,, though many years ago, I was at once struck with the very truthful picture of him I have quoted above. It is to be regretted that his wig, which was as remarkable as any other detail of his appearance, is not mentioned in the description : perhaps the period named was antecedent to that at which he employed this absurdity. Though he had silk wigs, of all hues, kept on stands on the shelves of a large ward- robe with glass doors, I never saw him in any but a black one ; I do not know if he intended it to pass for human hair, but the tight corkscrew ringlets of which it consisted, as they hung down all round his head, from beneath his hat, produced a most unnatural effect, especially combined with the large allowance of red and white paint on his face. The make- up of his face and figure occupied himself and two valets rather more than three hours daily. Often when this elaborate process was completed, he would change his mind and ask for a wig of a different colour, when extensive alterations had to be made both in his toilet and in the make-up of his face to suit the fresh head-gear ! It was on the 31st of March, 1851, that the Duke of Brunswick, who had sworn he would never again set foot on a Channel steamer, but who considered the moment when matters seemed so favourable to Louis Napoleon's preten- sions a suitable one for visiting France, started for that country in a balloon : he had, shortly before, made the attempt, but failed to carry it through ; nothing daunted,, A BALLOON VOYAGE. 79- however, he decided on a fresh start, this time from Hastings, attended by Mr. Green the aeronaut. The hour at which the balloon was let loose was half-past one p.m., and she rose gallantly, the assembled spectators cheering lustily. As may be supposed, the adventurous machine was earnestly watched, and when about mid-channel was seen to descend to a much lower level, so that the- occupants of the car could, by means of their speaking- trumpet, converse with some boatmen on the water. Shortly after, the heat of the atmosphere acting upon the gas, the balloon took a sudden upward movement and rose to about 4,000 feet. When within a few miles of the French coast, the travellers observed two men walking on the sands, which were very wide on account of the ebb-tide. One of these worthies foolishly caught hold of the guide- rope which was trailing behind the balloon, and was- immediately dashed violently to the ground ; the other, somehow, got his feet upon the rope and involuntarily performed an extemporised somersault in the air. The Duke and his travelling companion were now sufficiently near to distinguish in the valley, a village- en fete, from which, at sight of the balloon, issued forth a number of peasants ; to these the Duke shouted through his speaking-trumpet, telling them how to act, and his- instructions being intelligently carried out, the balloon touched the earth almost without a shock, and the travellers found themselves at Neufchatel, about ten miles south-west of Boulogne and half a mile from a railway station, the voyage having occupied five hours. The Duke got into a train for Paris, and Mr. Green returned to Boulogne with the apparatus. I have been told the Duke chartered two steamers, by way of precaution, to follow his movements. The Duke of Brunswick's appearance was so singular, that he was often taken for one of those " chevaliers " who have their habitat in the vicinity of Ley-ces-Ure Sqvare* SO GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. One night when out on a spree, he was run in by a constable, who carried him off to the station-house, and it was with some difficulty he proved his identity. It is said that Mr. Charles Dickens, hearing of the incident, remarked, that "that policeman deserves promotion." In one of the scandalous periodicals of the time, occurs a story to the effect that the Duke was carrying on an intrigue with a married lady in Shropshire, and hearing that her husband was absent, he arranged to meet her at an hotel in Shrewsbury. On his arrival, he ordered a sourer fin for two, but his strange appearance and his broken English raised suspicion in the mind of the waiter who had not much experience in foreign customers. A gentleman who was staying at the hotel, heard the orders given by the Duke, and observing the waiter's embarrassed air, looked more particularly at His Serene Highness : as soon as the latter had withdrawn, he advised the man to communicate with the landlord, before carrying out the instructions given him, as he thought the stranger had the appearance of an escaped French prisoner. The landlord took the alarm and, calling in the assistance of the police, had the Duke arrested. As the errand on which he had come to Shrewsbury was not one in which his name could creditably appear, the Duke found himself in a most awkward predicament, and thought the safest way out of it would be to say he was an officer in the Duke of Brunswick's German legion. No one present, however, would accept this explanation, and after making a terrible splutter of words and oaths, half German, half-broken English, the Duke became so exasperated that he forgot his prudential reticence, and declared himself to be no other than the Duke himself. At this there was a universal guffaw, and the insults he received were the more humiliating that they w r ere unconsciously applied. " You a Duke ! " said the landlord; " why you are more like a dancing-master." PRINCESS VICTORIA OF COORG. 81 " Or a perfumer," said another. " No ; you must be taken before a magistrate and be made to account for yourself." While the dispute was at its height, fortunately for the Duke, Mr. Forrester, son-in-law to the Duke of Kutland, happened to arrive, and naturally inquired into what was going on : the landlord, who knew him, was only too glad to ask his advice, and learnt, at once, to his unmitigated terror, that it was the Queen's own brother whom he had been maltreating with so much freedom. Of course apologies and excuses of all kinds were offered, and as the Duke's object now was to get away without betraying his reasons for being there, furious as he was, he had no choice but to accept them. How he settled matters with the lady does not appear, but as no action in which he was " co-respondent " has been recorded, it is presumable they managed somehow to hush up the affair. The Duke's fabulous wealth, no doubt, served to get him out of many scrapes.* To turn to a sprig of royalty of quite another stock, I f was at an evening party in 1853 at the house of Colonel Coorg. Pennefather in St. John's Wood, where I met the little Princess Gauramma, of whom he and Mrs. Pennefather had charge. She was the daughter of " His Highness Prince Yere Rajunder, ex-Rajah of Coorg." His dominions, it will be remembered, had been taken possession of by England somewhere about 1840, and the dethroned Sovereign had been delegated to a sort of State prison in Benares, where he had lived ever since, under the control of " John Company," with an allowance of .6,000 a year. The little daughter in question was the child of a favourite wife who died in giving her birth, and her father showed a great predilection for her over his other ten sons and daughters. I don't remember on what occasion it was that she was brought to England, nor why the ex-Rajah * The Duke of Brunswick was born in 1804, and died August 19, 1878. VOL. i. 7 82 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. consented to her being brought up in the Christian faith r nor yet how it was that he agreed to part with her and leave her to be educated in this country ; but so it was, and the- Queen had her at Court, and took great notice of her. She was baptized at Buckingham Palace in 1852, Her Majesty standing sponsor and giving her the name of Victoria : the Archbishop of Canterbury performed the ceremony, and the godfather was Sir James Weir Hogg. The little " Princess Victoria of Coorg," as she was- afterwards called, was married at an early age, and died at the birth of her first child. She was an interesting, but apparently not very intelligent young girl, nor had she, at the time I saw her, acquired any accomplishments beyond the three " R's " and an imperfect idea of the use of the needle. Her complexion was dark,, and she had fine hair and eyes, but the latter wore the sleepy, melancholy expression typical of Oriental birth, and she moved in a languid, listless way, rather dragging, than lifting, her feet. Morally, she was described to me by her guardian and his wife, as gentle, docile, and affectionate. SOCIAL, LITERARY, AND POLITICAL CELEBRITIES. '' The greatest and best men have more impressed the world by their voice, accent, mien, and casual expressions in fact, by their simple, unconscious pre- sentment of themselves than by set speeches. In a social circle, a man takes his place by what he says and does in the midst of it, from one moment to another." TIMES (leader), 25th December, 1880. " In these polished times a man's real character is seldom to be got at, from the general tenor of his conduct. The laws of the land and the laws of society have, together, the effect of rubbing down smooth, nearly all the prominent points of the disposition, those landmarks of the mind which separate one individual from another. A slight word, a look, an exclamation, will often let the seemingly careless auditor deeply into the secret." Essays and Criticisms, by T. G. WAINWRIGHT, p. 50 (note). CHAPTER II. SOCIAL, LITERARY, AND POLITICAL CELEBRITIES. " Life is a leaf of paper white On which each one of us may write His word or two then comes the night ! '' J. RUSSELL LOWELL. " Les hommes se succedent, et ne se resseuiblent pas." CARNOT. A REMARKABLE figure at the West-end of London Jo ^ nE x 1 r wes ,, "The Miser." towards the close of the last century personally known (though not to myself) to my father who had many anecdotes to tell of him was John Elwes, surnained, and apparently not without reason, " The Miser," though, strange to say, like all misers, he was on occasion, munificent in his liberalities. His miserly proclivities were, however, so marked, and avarice was so inherent in his nature that, as he had inherited, so also he transmitted, to a certain extent, his deplorable pecu- liarities. His son was living in Portman Square within my recollection, and I once accompanied a common friend who was paying him a morning call ; we were shown into his morning-room where he sat shivering for want of a fire, which he did not allow himself, though it was winter, and he was so poorly clad that he might easily have passed himself off as a pauper. He received us courteously, and talked pleasantly enough on subjects of the day, till my friend, who had been casting his eyes curiously round the room at the singular hangings not tapestries which 86 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. masked the walls, was about to address the owner on the subject, when he bravely anticipated the expression of this astonishment by remarking good-humouredly "Ah! I see, you are amused at the decoration of my room. I daresay it looks to you like an ' old clo ' shop ? " " Well, it does, my dear fellow, and I must say I am curious to know what you can be intending to do with such a collection." "Do with them?" answered he, "why upon my word that's more than I can tell you myself." JOHN ELWES, " THE MISER." " Then why on earth do you keep them there, I arn sure none of them could be worn again, though they seem to be kept carefully brushed." " Oh yes, they're brushed twice a week, though I've no intention of wearing them again ; but, do you know, I can't part with them ; it's strange, isn't it ? and I can only account for it by the fact that I am the descendant of my ancestors." A case of " atavism" if ever there was one. To the student of character, there is scarcely a life more JOHN EL WES. 87 curiously interesting than that of John Elwes, the father of this gentleman, himself also now dead. Perhaps a nobler heart never beat, and yet his finer attributes were marred, overwhelmed, neutralized by the unfortunate habit of hoarding, which at last became an absolute mania, destroy- ing the happiness of his own life as well as of those who held kinship with him, though it does not seem to have alienated the affection of his servants, who faithfully and uncomplainingly shared the hardships he imposed on him- self and them. A very interesting biography of John Elwes, written by a relative of his, Mr. Edward Tophara, if in a somewhat antiquated style, still bears upon it the stamp of sincerity, and appears to furnish a most impartial record of this singular being. The passion which dis- figured John Elwes's otherwise fine disposition must be admitted to have been an hereditary moral disease ; it was frightfully not to say disgustingly developed in his mother, Ajny Elwes, who had married John Meggot John Elwes (born Meggot) having assumed together with the inheri- tance, the patronymic of his maternal uncle Sir Hervey Elwes. This lady, though possessed at the time of her death of <100,000, allowed herself to die of starvation, iind miserable stories survive illustrative of her sordid and degrading meanness. Old John Elwes, like most of those who have attained a great age, had a thorough contempt for physicians : tradi- tion has preserved an amusing instance of his sentiments on this subject : "One night, when out owing to his penurious resolve that he would save the expense of a conveyance he met with a rather serious accident. . . . The night was very dark, the street badly lighted, and while hurrying along, he came with such violence against the pole of a sedan-chair which he did not see, that he cut both his shins to the bone ; it would have been as contrary to his principles as it was to his practice to call in a doctor, but Colonel Pimins, at whose house he 88 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. was staying in Orchard Street, insisted on sending for surgical advice, and old Elwes at length submitted. The practitioner immediately began to expatiate on the condi- tion of the wound, and the serious consequences of breaking the skin ; on the good fortune of his having been sent for, and the peculiarly bad appearance of the case, &c., &c. ' Very probably you are right,' said the patient ; ' but, Mr. Sawbones, I have one thing to say to you ; I do not con- sider myself much hurt ; now you think I am ; so I will make this agreement : I will take one leg and you shall have the other ; you shall do what you please with yours, and I will do nothing to mine, and I will wager you the amount of your bill that my leg gets well first.' Elwes delighted in telling this story, and used to assert with triumphant glee that he ' beat the apothecary by a fortnight.' ' The many generous acts which marked the bizarre exis- tence of this ingeniously close-fisted fellow should not be passed over in silence ; they were, in fact, more noble in him than they would have been in a man of liberal habits. If we except the niggardly way in which he provided for his household, we might say that he really was stingy only where he himself was concerned ; and he seemed to take a real pleasure in personal privations, in contenting himself with food, clothing, and accommodation generally, of the worst description and the meanest quality ; and yet with all this, when he considered the occasion an opportune one y we find him bestowing important sums, sometimes without even being asked, and on persons he knew but slightly. He would, when riding out, scramble over dangerous banks and travel miles out of his way, making those who rode with him do the same, to save a turnpike toll ; he would ride at a foot's pace in order that his horse might feed, as he went along, on hay caught in the hedges, asserting it was "not only nice hay, but you got it for nothing," at the same time that he was lending unsolicited 1,000 to a Captain Tempest, of whom he knew very little, to enable JOHN ELWES'S GENEROSITY. 89- him to purchase a vacancy in a Majority (which he needed as a means of livelihood), lest a wealthier man should obtain it over his head, while he was trying to raise the- rnoney. It is worthy Of note that he never once alluded to- this circumstance again ; and though on Captain Tempest's death, the sum was refunded to him, this does not detract from the ready generosity and subsequent forbearance of this singular man, who certainly never thought of being reim- bursed. On the same day on which he had performed another similarly generous act, he had dined on a mouldy crust he- picked up on the road, alighting from his horse to secure it. Notwithstanding his love of money, his integrity was inviolable, and his principles were proof against any kind of direct or indirect corruption ; for he was- strictly honourable in his political as well as his financial dealings. " His support of Lord North in Parliament," says Colonel Topham, " was most disinterested, for no man was materially a greater sufferer than he, by the madness of the American war : the large property he had in houses, and those chiefly among the new buildings in Marylebone, was much injured by the continuance of the war, and as na small proof of it, he had just then supplied the money to build a crescent at the end of Quebec Street, Portman Square, where he expended certainly not less than seven or eight thousand pounds, and which from the want of inhabi- tants at that time, was never finished. It has since fallen to Mr. Baker, the ground landlord, who will doubtless make the money which Mr. Elwes lost." I think these few lines worth quoting from Colonel Top- ham's most interesting memoir, not only as illustrative of the character of John Elwes, but because they forcibly indicate- the curious local change which circumstances have wrought in the district in which Elwes owned so much property,, and his investment in it shows him to have possessed con- siderable foresight and shrewdness. A millionaire then, he, or his representative, would have $0 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. been an archi-millionaire now. The idea of building a crescent of mansions on the spot (not very accurately described by Topham) selected by Elwes, was a very know- ing one, and no doubt, but for the political circumstances of the moment, would have proved richly remunerative even in his own days, as the ground-rents on that land were at that time very small. Topham's prediction as to the " good thing " Mr. Baker and his heirs would make of it has been fully verified. So far from being " never finished," Great Cumberland Place was at the time I came into being, there, one of the most fashionable centres in London ; my father bought and lived for fifty years in the first house overlook- ing Hyde Park, and the whole became the town-residences mostly of people of rank. The representatives of the ground landlord were at first Sir Edward Baker, and after- wards his trustees. The property, when that ground lease expired not long since, reverted to the Portinan estate ; it is therefore a few years more than a century since Elwes started this clever building-speculation which was to make such a fortune for aliens to his family Sic vos non cobis, &c. ! It must have been an irritating disappointment to the poor old man to see the unfinished carcases (which, on a change of political conditions, he had prudently abstained from completing) standing during the remainder of his life desolate and neglected behind a bill-stuck hoarding ; but Elwes had considerable philosophy, and although he would lament over a dropped sixpence, he bore larger losses with surprising equanimity : this, however, is less anomalous than the generality of traits in the character of John Elwes. Curious anecdotes illustrative of its singularities are not wanting, the following little stoiy which I heard lately is not, I believe, in print. In Maiden Lane lived in the early part of the century a watchmaker, by name Ireland. One morning a very shabbily dressed old man entered his shop .and asked to see some gold watches. Ireland looked at him with some suspicion of his being either a rogue or a lunatic, JOHN ELWES'S ECCENTRICITIES. 91 and put before him some second-hand gold and silver watches, asking him if he did not mean the latter. " No," replied the customer simply; " no ; I want the best watch you have in your shop, a chronometer for work, and solid and handsome in appearance." Having examined with some care one of those which the watchmaker assured him were of first-class quality, he selected the very best, and inquired the price. Being told it was eightj 7 guineas, he asked if that were the lowest price. "It is," was the answer, on which banknotes to that amount were laid on the counter, and the purchaser left his card, desiring the watchmaker to let him have that watch as soon as he had duly regulated the movement. On the card was the name of John Elwes. The career of this living paradox, presents, it will be seen, a tissue of the most startling contradictions, but it is by no means uninstructive, as showing how the finest attributes may be obscured by the pervading influence of one in- ordinate passion, and in John Elwes we see a type very much the reverse of Byron's Corsair, who left the record of a character " Linked with one virtue and a thousand crimes." Elwes's aversion to matrimony prevented his leaving his wealth to a legitimate heir, but he divided all he could dispose of between his two natural sons, of whom he was very fond, and who were estimable men ; the entailed estates descended collaterally. Another well-remembered and remarkable character of T Tooke whom I have heard much from my father, as among the wits and celebrities of that day, was John Home Tooke, author of the Diversions of Purley. They worked together at his E-n-ea TrrepoeiTa, for both were scholars, and both were philologists : both also enjoyed the friendship of Dr. Kitchiner, frequenting together his literary and scientific gatherings. Tooke's name and attributes became familiar 92 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. to me from the circumstance that Tooke, having a clear and graceful, and also remarkably legible, handwriting, my father was wont to put before me as a model, when learning to write, one of his letters, of which he had kept many. This one was an invitation to a game of chess, for both were also chess-players. Home Tooke, though brought up at Eton, and extremely cultivated, was not a man of birth. So far from that, he was (much to his own disgust) the son of a poulterer in Leadenhall Market, John Home ; but he contrived to keep this fact dark, by neatly disguising it under the statement that his father was a " Turkey merchant." The " Turkey merchant " had turned his business to good account, and having thereby realized considerable profits, he sent his son to Eton, where, by his agreeable and attractive manners he became so great a favourite that he had at his choice a number of useful and influential acquaintances, whom in after life he secured as friends, As might be expected, they were of higher rank than his own, but school-friendships are often sincere, and become proof against the exclusiveness of conventionality. While still young, Home had unreflectingly taken orders, but soon discovered the disastrous mistake he had made in his choice of a profession : it was in vain that he tried to wriggle out of the disadvantages it had brought him ; they hampered his movements and marred his subsequent pro- jects to the end of his days. Though gifted with oratorical powers to an extent which r however, he somewhat exaggerated to himself, he was, to his great vexation, by his clerical antecedents, not only de-barred from proceeding to the bar, but excluded also from a parliamentary career.* Being, however, of a restless * Lord Holland used to say that it was well known that in Mr. Home Tooke's- case a strange compromise between principle aud indulgence was adopted by the House, for, notwithstanding his legal disabilities, he was allowed to sit during that session, while all deacons and priests but himself were declared to be ineligible. JOHN HORNE TOOKE. 93 disposition, he was throughout his life constantly airing his political views with so little measure or discretion as to be always getting himself into awkward predica- ments, only too glad when he could make those views an excuse for public speeches. In early life, Home was tutor to the son 'of John Elwes the miser, and travelled abroad with him. On his return he made the acquaintance of Mr. Tooke, of Purley, and as he was personally extremely agreeable, that gentleman took a great fancy to him. Finding he had an unusually accurate knowledge of law (having studied it in the hope of being able to make the bar his profession), Mr. Tooke availed himself of it to consult him on the probable effect of the Enclosure Bill then before the House of Commons, apprehending that if passed as then worded, it would materially damage his Purley property. After many conversations on the subject, John. Home, who had adopted Mr. Tooke's view of the matter, wrote an able paper in support of it, which he addressed to the Public Advertiser. While the Bill was under debate, Home attended in the House to hear the discussion, and as an appeal was made to the writer of the remarks in the Public Advertiser to show himself, he was immediately pointed out in the gallery, and was summoned to the bar of the House. Placed there, he made so convincing a defence of the views he had already stated, that the opposing M.P.'s were astonished, if not converted, and the Bill underwent such modifications as completely satisfied Mr. Tooke. This gentleman was so He observed with some truth, and with that love of point which distinguished his conversation, that " the candour of ministers consisted in this, that deacons and priests had sat in parliament for more than a century, but at last one cleric got in who opposed the minister of the day, and then Parliament determined that there never should be any deacons or priests admitted among them thereafter." Home Tooke's right was contended for by Mr. Fox, whom, nevertheless, he had, at various periods, attacked witli acrimony and rancour. Tooke recognized this generosity. "Mr. Fox," said he, " has taken a severe revenge, I have passed my life in attack- ing him, and he has now for the second time defended me nobly against the arm of power." 94 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. delighted with his brilliant and ingenious defender that he at once declared his intention of making him his heir. By some misunderstanding, however, Home got but a small portion of Mr. Tooke's fortune, the bulk of which went to Mr. Beazley. Still, Home assumed his patron's name, and henceforward was known as Mr. John Home Tooke. He both wrote and spoke well, dividing his time and atten- tion between literature and politics. He had the talent to draw round him many of the celebrities of the day, welcom- ing them to his hospitable table with a degree of ease and grace in accordance with their aristocratic position. When he was a boy, he had often been sent for to Leicester House as a playfellow for the little Prince George, afterwards George III., but probably did not learn much in the matter of good manners, there : he possessed a great deal of humour, and many of his witticisms have been preserved. During his trial for high treason he suddenly determined that he would speak in his own defence, and sent word to that effect to Erskine, his counsel. "I'll be lianged if I don't," said he, byway of emphasizing his intention. "You'll certainly be hanged it you c7o," was Erskine's smart reply. Home Tooke always professed himself cognizant of the identity of Junius. His newspaper correspondence with this nominis umbra was not very happy, Tooke being far more successful in a viva voce discussion than when arguing on paper. He was clever, and quick at repartee, and knew how to make telling remarks with a smiling face : there was much fun and archness in his character, and his scholarly acquirements gave him a command of language which served him advantageously in a verbal dispute. His objections to matrimony were so strong that he tried to inspire his friends with his own sentiments on the subject. One of them having communicated to him his intention of perpetrating the fatal blunder in spite of his warnings, JOHN HOENE TOOKE. 95- he entreated him to consider the advice he was about to offer him. This consisted in urging upon him and upon every intending bridegroom the absolute necessity of obtain- ing from reliable sources every possible detail of his intended wife's antecedents, moral, material, financial, &c., and then of devoting as long a period as possible to the most scrutinizing personal vigilance, in order to ascertain the exact truth for himself : when absolutely satisfied on every point, the only allowable course for him was to provide himself with a fleet horse, to be ready saddled and bridled on the wedding-day, and to ride away from the church as swiftly as possible before the ceremony took place. Home Tooke's political principles were those of what would be called to-day " a red republican," in testimony of which one of his letters to Junius begins : " The * right divine and sacredness of kings ' is to me a senseless jargon." An amusing story used to be told of Home Tooke, who,, dining one day with Lord Camelford and Sir Francis Burdett, expressed his regret that he had, in his boyhood,, ran away from Eton, when Lord Camelford confessed he- equally repented of having run away from the Charterhouse. "Well, then," said Sir Francis, " I may as well tell you that I ran away from Westminster." J. T. Smith * tells in his Book for a Rainy Day, how " In the year 1811 a most flagrant depredation was com- mitted at Home Tooke's house at Wimbledon by a collector of taxes, who, not receiving immediate payment of his demand, daringly earned away a silver tea and sugar caddy, the value, in weight of metal alone, amounting to at least twenty times the sum claimed ; the pretext being the with- holding of a tax which Mr. Tooke declared he would never pay, on principle. ' : Mr. J. T. Smith was a great connoisseur in works of art, and preceded Mr. Jos as custodian of the Print-room at the British Museum. 96 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. " Upon this, the victim wrote the following letter -addressed to Messrs. Croft and Dilke : " Gentlemen, I beg it as a favour of you that you will go, in my name, to Mr. Judkin, Attorney, in Clifford's Inn, and desire him to go with you both, to the Under- Sheriff's office in New Inn, Wych Street. I have had a distress served on me for taxes at Wimbledon, in the County of Surrey. By the recommendation of Mr. Stuart of Putney, I desire Mr. Judkin to act as my attorney in replevying the goods, and I desire Messrs. Croft and Dilke to sign the security bond for me that I will try this question. Pray show this mem. to Mr. Judkin. " JOHN HORNE TOOKE. " Wimbledon, May 17, 1811." As Mr. Croft and Mr. Dilke were proceeding to Putney Eoad they met the (too zealous) tax-gatherer with the tea- oaddy under his arm, on his way back to restore it with the greatest possible haste, and to offer an apology to Mr. Tooke. The two gentlemen returned, and, going in with him, witnessed Mr. Tooke' s forbearance and kindness when the man declared he had a wife and large family. From the following statement in the contemporary press, dated October 4, 1810, it appears that Home Tooke made anticipatory arrangements for his funeral and burial: " The vault Mr. Home Tooke has caused to be prepared for his remains is situated under the lawn in his garden near the north wall on Wimbledon Common : it is now ready for his reception. A handsome tombstone of finely polished black marble, about 8 ft. long and 2 ft. wide, with the following engraven epitaph, was a few days ago laid down by his own direction : JOHN HOENE TOOKE. 97 JOHN HORNE TOOKE, Late proprietor and now occupier of this spot, was born June, 1736, and Died in Aged years. CONTENTED AND GRATEFUL." It has been asked whether the " contentment " refers to this world or the next. The Annual Register announces as a completion of the above story, after the lapse of two years : " On the 10th March, 1812, Mr. Tooke died ut his house at Wimbledon. He was put into a strong elm shell, and the coffin was made from the heart of a solid oak, cut down for the purpose. It measured six feet one inch in length ; in breadth at the shoulders, two feet two inches ; and depth, two feet six inches. This enormous depth was absolutely necessary in consequence of the contraction [spinal curva- ture ?] of his body. His remains were conveyed in a hearse and six to Baling, attended by three mourning coaches with four horses to each." Mr. Tooke's executors objected to his being buried in his own grounds, and the interment took place at Baling. Home Tooke's bust was the first work undertaken by Clmutrey after his return from Italy in 1803. lu the year 1799 the two following letters, illustrative of the unpopularity of the income tax, at that day, passed between the Commissioners of Income and Mr. Home Tooke : I quote it, as it should be interesting at the present time : VOL. I. 8 98 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. 11 To JOHN HOBNE TOOKE, ESQ., " Office of the Commissioners for carrying into execution the Act for Taxing Incomes, " WANDSWOETH, May 3, 1799. " SIR, The Commissioners having under their considera- tion your declaration of income, dated 26th February, have directed me to acquaint you that they hava reason to appre- hend your income exceeds ,60 a year. They therefore desire that you will re-consider the said declaration and favour me with your answer on or before Wednesday 8th,, inst. Your obedient servant, "W. B. LUTTLY, Clerk." "To ME. W. B. LUTTLY, " SIB, I have much more reason than the Commissioners- can have, to be dissatisfied with the smallness of my income.. I have never in my life disavowed, or had occasion to re- consider, any declaration which I have signed with my name.. But the Act of Parliament has removed all the decencies- which used to prevail between gentlemen ; and has given the Commissioners (shrouded under the signature of their clerk) a right by law to tell me that they have reason to believe that I am a liar. They have also a right to demand from me upon oath the particular circumstances of my private situation. In obedience to the law I am ready to attend them upon this degrading occasion so novel to Englishmen, and to give them every explanation and satisfaction which they may be pleased to require. I am,. Sir, your obedient servant, " JOHN HOENE TOOKE." sir Francis Among my very early recollections is the tall, thin figure on horseback, of Sir -Francis Burdett, wearing white corduroys and top boots ; his face, which though not fleshy had a healthy colour, expressed a certain pleasure at the respectful recognition of which he was constantly the object, and seemed to say that he felt he deserved his popularity,, SIR FRANCIS BURDETT. 99 for he bowed and smiled benignly as his horse ambled along. It was a fine trait in Sir Francis's character that he stood by his friend Lord Dundonald throughout his trial, and when there was a talk of putting him in the pillory, Sir Francis's sense of justice made him declare that " if Lord Dundonald were to be sent there, he would go and stand by the side of him all the time." At a somewhat later period, another, usually mounted, Albany celebrityused to be seen about the Park Albany Fonblanque, Fonblan< i ue - the clever and mordant, but also popular and admired, pro- prietor of the Examiner. Having been personally acquainted witli him, I may say that, although his sarcasm, which how- jver was always just, could be so bitter in print, in private life, he was always the most agreeable and genial of men ; his figure on horseback was remarkable, inasmuch as his legs being lean and long and his horse small in proportion to his own height, his feet nearly touched the ground. This was also the allure of the Duke of Somerset, who, when at The Duke Somerset House, Park Lane, was a frequenter of Hyde Park Somerset - and its neighbourhood. He died in 1855, and was fifth from "proud Duke," who having been touched on the shoulder by his wife * with her fan, in order to call his attention resenting the familiarity, turned round and said sternly, " Madam ! my first Duchess was a Percy, and she would not have ventured upon such a liberty as that." A few doors from my father's house in Great Cumberland Place f resided Lord Lovelace, and there, died of a cancer November 29, 1852, his wife, Lady Lovelace, Byron's A daByron. "Ada sole daughter of my house and heart." She was an invalid for some time prior to her death, and seldom left the house, though her three children Lord :;: Daughter of the Earl of Winchilsea. 1 At Xo. 8, not 1C, as stated in Wheatley's new edition of London. 100 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. Ockham, Lord Wentworth, and Lady Anne rode out daily on their ponies. I have been told by the medical man who attended Lady Lovelace, that he had from her own lips the astonishing statement that even after her marriage, and up to a comparatively late period of her short life, she had never read a line of her father's poems ! Little did poor Byron dream of such filial dereliction, when he wrote the many tender passages scattered through his works, and to which he doubtless trusted, to rehabilitate him in the estimation of the child he loved so dearly ; for surely those touching words, had they met her eye, should have counteracted any adverse impression made upon her infant mind by his calumniators. However, the time came when, it appears, she was spon- taneously moved to do him ample, if tardy, justice. Countess Guiccioli relates that Lady Lovelace having paid a visit to Newstead Abbey was conducted by Colonel Wildman to the library, where taking down a volume, he read to her one of the finest passages it contained. Transported with the beauty of the lines, she asked who was their author ; the Colonel stood with his eyes fixed on her in sudden astonish- ment, and pointing to Phillips's portrait of Byron which hung there, he said : "Is it possible you do not know that that is he?" Lady Lovelace seems to have been staggered by the reve- lation and replied : " Do not think this is affectation, strange as it must seem. I have been brought up in entire ignor- ance of all that regards my father." " From that hour," continues the narrator, a " passionate enthusiasm for everything which recalled the memory of Byron took possession of her, and whilst at New- stead she would shut herself up for long hours in the apartments he had occupied, and which still retained much of the furniture he had used both there and at Cambridge. She loved to sleep in the room in which he had slept ; she gave herself up to lonely meditations on his BYRON'S DAUGHTER. 101 exiled fate and premature end, and endeavoured with intense yearning, out of the associations of scenes over which his memory lingered, to extract some trace of that tenderness of which she had been deprived." By one of those perplex- ing ironies of fate for which it is impossible to account, the father and child, so cruelly separated in life for he never saw her after she was a month old now lie side by aide, united in the silence of death, in the chancel of the village church of Hucknall Torkard. It is remarkable that Byron's daughter died at the same early age as himself: she bore but little physical resem- blance to her handsome and distinguished father, though now and then an expression in her intelligent features would betray the kinship. Her tastes were decidedly dis- similar, and to romance, poetry, and literature generally, she preferred the study of the exact sciences, and delighted in mathematical pursuits ; these she followed with Babbage, and must have been an accomplished student, whether of languages or science, for she was familiar enough with the idioms of the former and the technicalities of the latter, to make an excellent translation of a Defence, written by an Italian, of Babbage's well-known and long-cherished, but never-completed Calculating Machine. With striking elegance and grace of manner, were com- bined in Lady Lovelace, a degree of mental power and a depth of knowledge which few suspected : though no woman could be more womanly, few men have shown more cha- racter ; frivolity had no charms for her, and her greatest pleasure was in the society of the cultivated, and especially of men and w r omen of science. We can hardly understand how the partisans of Lady Byron (and she managed to secure many), contrive to defend the meanness, injustice, and heartlessness with which she took advantage of her opportunities, to alienate her daughter from the father who would so fondly have cherished her. There are some who, to justify her unqualifiable conduct, 102 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. have invented an ugly story which they mysteriously assert was known to various distinguished individuals, all now numbered among those who " tell no tales," to the effect that Byron had already contracted a marriage in Spain, of which Lady Byron became aware only after she was his wife, and that it was upon this revelation being made to her that she had determined to leave him. This statement is not remarkable for plausibility. Is it likely that, if true, the whole world would not have known it long before ? also, if true, what need had Lady Byron's officious and vulgar American champion to bring forward another mischievous and disgraceful invention in justifica- tion of her patroness. It would be interesting to know what were Ada Byron's feelings when, alone with her gifted father's memory, she came upon such apostrophes as he loved incessantly to address to her, for example : " Albeit my brow thou never shouldst behold, My voice shall with thy future visions blend, And reach into thy heart when mine is cold A token and a tone, e'en from thy father's mould ! " and countless others equally tender and pathetic. There is something infinitely touching in the little fact that Byron had to petition, and petitioned, for a curl from the head of his own child, and having obtained it, wore it lovingly round his neck, where it was buried with him. Contessa ^ never saw the Contessa Guiccioli, but have heard her Guiccioii. freely spoken of by several of my friends who were her con- temporaries and knew her ; as these were not mutually acquainted, their respective testimonies are quite indepen- dent of each other ; yet they agreed that the fascination exercised over the noble poet by this very remarkable lady, must have been due to some indefinable charm of manner which bewitched him, though it appears to have left them un-impressed. One of these gentlemen assured me that CONTESSA GUICCIOLI. 103 her complexion reminded him of ... boiled pork (!) and another asserted that her figure was absolutely shapeless ; that she was not beautiful, and that so far from possessing any grace or elegance of style she had the appearance of a short bolster with a string round its middle. Worse than this, it seems that the Guiccioli waddled like a duck ; her feet, which were as large and flat as Madame de StaeTs immortalized by her enemy Napoleon, when he described her as standing on her " grand pied de Stael " aiding in the suggestion of this simile. As for her manners, they were so far from refined, that one of my friends declared that one evening in company after dinner, she sent for her maid to unlace her corset, leaning back in her fauteuil and exclaiming the while: "Of Gesii Maria f Ho troppo fnangiato /" It is presumable that Byron, who made no secret of his abhorrence for fat women, and who also could not endure to see a woman eat, must have been carefully blinded by the little god, unless a wondrous deterioration had come over the Countess before the time at which my friends knew her. This lady lived for some years in France near La Celle St. Cloud, where she was acquainted with the Belloc family, friends of my own ; they described her as being very fantastic in her ways, and though late in life she married the aged Marquis de Boissy, she continued to wear a large miniature of Byron set as a brooch. There is no doubt that before Byron and the Contessa parted, their mutual attachment had cooled down consider- ably, and that on Byron's side his affection for her was succeeded by a wearisome desire for her absence, though he still wished her well, and behaved liberally to her. It appears, in the diary of Thomas Uwyns, K.A., that Lord Byron. Lady Blessington tried to make him and others believe that Byron's enthusiasm for the cause of Greece, and his de- parture for that country (December 25, 1825), was only a pretext the more plausibly to rid himself of the society of 104 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. this lady who had long bored him. To judge from Lord Byron's sentiments it is easy to believe that when she became fat and unsightly his in-fat-uation ceased, but we are not, therefore, obliged to admit that his fine sentiments and noble efforts on behalf of a degraded country, in the cause of which he sacrificed his life, were a paltry sham. I am told by Col. Alcock Stawell that when a young rnan r making the grand tour with his tutor and spending some time at Yenice, he used to visit at the Palazzo of Contessa. Benzoni, from whom he heard many curious little character- istics of Lord Byron. The " noble poet" used to frequent this lady's society, and delighted in the familiar intercourse of the Benzoni family, but whenever other visitors came in, he used shyly to withdraw into silence, or retreat to the balcony, more especially if they were English. Another of his habits was to take leave at a special hour,, at which his valet had orders to arrive with a small plank and a lantern : the plank was laid down at the water stairs. of the palazzo in order that from it, his eccentric lordship, might spring into the Canal, having first divested himself of his raiment, with which the valet had to meet him when he had swam to the other side. It seems that on the Colonel's remarking that Byron must have needed a bath before he dressed again, the patriotic Contessa did not appear pleased at the imputation on the purity of Venetian waters. It is remarkable that Byron's club-foot should not have interfered with his expertness as a swimmer. Squire Waterton, who from experience of their successes, believed, in the Yorkshire bone-setters, used to say that had Byron applied to the Whitworth brothers, he could certainly have been cured. Byron, in his bitter lamentations over his physical disability, does not seem to have ever considered what enormous compensations he had to counterbalance this one defect ; all who knew him have borne testimony to their preponderance. Mrs. Opie speaks of the "mellifluous. GEORGE ROBINS. 105 tones of his voice as so fascinating that one cannot help excusing the expressions by which he often betrays his vanity in conversation ; its irresistible sweetness," she says, " seems to strike the ear afresh every time one hears it." Among characters of his time, a mention may fairly be George allowed to George Robins the estate-agent, auctioneer, and, as Byron intimated, " friend of the Peerage " generally ; indeed, the noble lord was of opinion that " the nobility could not have got on without ' George ' to set their affairs straight." How he did it, those who had recourse to his good offices knew best ; anyway they trusted him, and a great many family secrets were, alas ! inevitably, poured into his ear. The possession of these delicate confidences might have turned the brain of a wiser and less vain man than George Robins ; it is scarcely surprising, therefore, that he sometimes forgot himself and indulged in unseemly, but inevitable, familiarity with his noble sometimes, it is to be feared, also ig-noble patrons. The humiliation of being obliged to " grin and bear it," should have been a profitable lesson to those whose own follies had plunged them into the false position which, rendered it possible, and they should have foreseen that when Ruin stands under the portico, Dignity has to sneak away by the area-gate. It was amusing to hear a man who- mercilessly clipped the Queen's English and scattered his " h's " about in the most impartial way, talking of noble lords without mentioning their titles, and going as near as he dared (in a sotto voce tone which made his gossip far more suggestive) to facts in no way creditable to the heroes of them, though it has never been said that he was guilty of direct treachery. He was often (as a matter of expediency) invited to country seats, and while tacitly speculating as to how he should deal with these properties- ivlien they came to the hammer, did his best to put himself on a footing of supercilious equality with the host and his. other guests. 106 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Byron, whose sense of humour was tickled by Eobins's would-be gentlemanly ways, and his absurd failures in aping the manners of those among whom he was admitted, once invited to dinner a party of intimates of rank " to meet Mr. George Robins." As was of course expected, he did not fail, albeit quite unconsciously, to make himself supremely ridiculous. He was very proud of having enjoyed the honour of dining with the " noble poet" whose genius he had the good taste to admire ; but there were and Eobins knew it many noble and many otherwise distinguished men who were very glad, if not to dine with him, to meet each other at his house, and a very well-appointed house it was ; many of his guests, though they had handles to their names, could not have returned his hospitality on the same scale. Eobins's popularity with his clients was partly the result of policy on their part, but they also liked him, for he was really a jolly good fellow; besides this, they found a certain amusement in his vulgarity enhanced as it was by his utter unconsciousness of it. His auctions were frequented by the general public for the sake of what we may term his " pulpit oratory" : and men of his own calling, it was said, attended them in order to borrow a hint from so successful a model of professional imaginativeness and ingenuity. No one (except, perhaps, Zola) ever drew up a descrip- tion with so graphic a pen as George Eobins. He was doubtless acquainted with the pages as well as with the personality of Byron, and his splendid coDipilations would often show cribbings from them and also from Milton, as a source of scenic lore. Nevertheless, he had originality of thought as well as originality of combina- tion, for he would make extremely smart aiid apt repartees to those who chaffed him (for the fun of the thing) during a sale. The fact was, that, however glowing were his representations of the value of the articles he was selling, he generally managed that they should not be GEORGE ROBINS. 107 altogether untruthful ; and although his fantastic imagina- tion was widely recognized, it was by no means uncommon for purchasers to accept his descriptions with sufficient confidence to admit of their buying even estates through his agency without so much as visiting them to verify his account. The public probably discounted the exaggerations of an agent who was notoriously given to a habit of magni- fying and extolling everything that was to come under his hammer, from a tea-cup to a mansion, and they pretty well knew how near to the reality came one of George's posting- bills offering to competition a "well-timbered" estate with " orchards that rivalled the gardens of the Hesperides " ("Espi-rides," he pronounced it); streams that "on horient pearl and sands of gold, ran nectar ; " groves whose " trees wept hamber;" views " enchanting enough to convert every be'older into a landscape-painter on the spot." Such would be among the similes employed by this euphuistic genius when the Duke of Baccarat or the Marquis of Hard-up was compelled by " unforeseen circumstances " to part with his ancestral acres. When articles of virtu, jewels, pictures, miniatures, engravings, antiques, had to pass through Eobins's hands, the assistance was convulsed as he betrayed the narrow limits of his historical, chronological, and even technical, knowledge. George Robins was entrusted with the disposal of Straw- berry Hill in April, 1842, and with it of Horace Walpole's valuable, interesting, and unique collection, which was sold on the premises along with the " furniture and effects." Pro- bably, however, George advisedly considered that the associa- tions of the place would attract a larger concourse of bidders than a London auction-room, to which these gems and cabinet curiosities might have been transferred. I went to the view on the day previous to the sale, and, having a prior acquain- tance with this king of auctioneers, was met by him in the most friendly and obliging spirit. He immediately busied 108 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. himself with calling my attention to, and placing before me r the most remarkable objects, one being of course the famous- silver bell, esteemed by Lord Orford himself, " the most precious rarity he possessed." Designed by the taste and modelled by the matchless hand of Benvenuto Cellini, this- historical relic, described by George Eobins as his " chaff- dover," was originally the property of Pope Leo X., and was- regarded by His Holiness as well as by the rare artificer's professional contemporaries as his chef cTceuvre among his. works of that class. It was destined to be employed in the exorcism of insects inimical to agriculture, and was a most elaborate specimen of repousse, the great artist's fancy having apparently revelled in the elegant intricacies of the entomological detail. "For this bell," wrote Horace Walpole, "I gave the Marquis of Kockingham all my collection of Eonian coins, in large brass ; the relievos, representing caterpillars, butter- flies, and other insects, are wonderfully executed." George Eobins was so ready in finding a striking remark to make, on whatever subject, that I was scarcely surprised at his hitting on one so appropriate, when, placing this valuable masterpiece in my hands, he quoted from the Song of Solomon : " This belle is black but beautiful." And black it certainly was ; black enough to justify any superficial observer in supposing it might be carved in ebony, so deeply tinted was it with the antiquarian cerugo ; but all the other fine silver pieces I saw here were in a similar condition. Among them, another interesting object Eobins pointed out, was a beautifully chased filigree silver clock, also of Italian work, of simple construction, with weights and chains, but very rich in ornamentation and perforated work. "This," said he, "was one of the mar- riage hofferings of 'Enery the heighth to 'is hill- fated Queen, Hann Boleyn." There was a pathos in pursuing one's way through these STRAWBERRY HILL. 109 rooms where still lingered the surviving traces of their 'erewhile occupant. If the choice spirits, so often collected here by the distinguished owner of the place, had long since vanished, there still remained the evidences of their presence so that we might say with Eogers "... Their very shadows consecrate the ground." A locality so surrounded with literary and artistic memories as Strawberry Hill could not be visited, under any circum- stances, without a keen interest ; but, if on my first visit to it in 1842, it still teemed with lingering and eloquent Walpolean associations, when I again saw it some forty years later, the prestige which had hallowed the spot had completely vanished, and it was in vain I looked round for the quaint charm which had rendered it so attractive ; one could no longer trace, or even build up, its past history from the materials that remained ; the whole place seemed dis- enchanted, nay, vulgarized. The absence of the unique collection which in 1842 still carried on the memory of its historical descendants served to bring it down to the level of an ordinary dwelling-house ; and in 1880 the obvious signs of the everyday life that had long been carried on there sufficed to obliterate the poetry of its original destina- tion : one could not bring oneself to believe that the Castle of Otranto could have been written there. It was once more in the hands of an auctioneer, but that auctioneer was not George Eobins ! * There was no point of resemblance between them, any more than between the past and present condition of the place. The architecture exhibited all its defects, the furniture was shabby and common in quality, and it was neglected in condition ; the galleries and rooms dingy without dignity, the draperies faded, yet not venerable, the blinds discoloured and tattered ; in place of the library and the collection which had been the admiration of its day and * George Eobins conducted the sale of Braham's furniture and effects at his beautiful villa, " The Grange," Brompton, after the failure of the Colosseum. 110 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. the envy of museums, there were cheap Tauchnitz editions f ruhbishy imitation bric-a-brac, and rococo ornaments, the style of the place seemed aimless and incoherent, incoherent also was the hideous papering which here and there bulged from the walls, or hung listlessly in semi-detached strips, suggesting that the old walls disdained the upstart con- nection. The flooring-boards were rotten in the better rooms, and the stone flags, where there was pavement, were damp in the basement a moist, musty effluvium pervading the whole tenement. Yet this should scarcely have been so. Strawberry Hill had not undergone a by any means ignoble fate in the hands- of Frances Lady Waldegrave Braham's elder daughter who received there during her somewhat protracted occupa- tion of it, many distinguished guests, and as long as she held it, showed every respect to its famed antecedents, by main- taining both mansion and grounds in ornamental order. It must therefore have been to her successors, whoever they may have been, that was due the decadence which told so* lamentably on the once honoured residence. George Robins rented of me a house in Queen Street,. Mayfair, not for his own occupation, but to help a " widow lady," in whom he was " hinterested, to earn a hincome by re-letting it in apartments." She had two children to bring up, and whenever, in the course of business, he mentioned her in writing, he was wont to style her " the little strugler," with one "g." Like Barnum, George Eobins did not select the noblest tree in the forest to clirnb, but he found one suited to his peculiar capacities, and like that genial monarch among humbugs, he got to the top of it. George Eobins, whose appearance was that of a hearty, well-to-do, florid- complexioned man of business, contrived by the bon- homie and persuasiveness of his manners to collect round him at the outset of his career, a knot of patrons who, as. his peculiar talents developed, soon began to increase and CHARLES BULLER. Ill multiply ; and as time went on, from modest auctions in his well-known rooms in the Great Piazza, Covent Garden, he came to be entrusted with the disposal of important family properties and the management of large transactions, and during the half century that he carried on business he succeeded in realizing something like ,150,000 ; neither did he ever incur the imputation of unfairness in his dealings. His prosperity was uninterrupted, and never suffered a check from failures of others or bankruptcy of his own. He occupied one of the best and largest houses in Brighton, facing the sea, and died there widely regretted on February 8, 1847, leaving a family : for some time before his death his health had not admitted of his attending to business. Of Charles Buller, whom I had before known by sight Charles. Buller. only, I made the acquaintance in 1839, in a singular way, on the quay at Boulogne, in the midst of one of the most violent storms I can remember. Our party had been waiting some days for an improvement in the weather, and un- fortunately on that day the tempest seemed to have reached its maximum of fury ; the wind blew a hurricane, the rain poured down torrentially, and the sea ran mountains high. Unfortunately, too, an urgent letter received that morning left us no further choice. When we reached the quay we met all the intending passengers returning in a scare, not one of them would venture it. The boats in those days were barely seaworthy, and nothing could be more discouraging than the aspect of affairs ; our position was a most perplexing one, for the ladies of the party were terrified. Charles Buller stood, or rather tottered (for no one could keep a footing), on the quay, among those discussing the dismal state of affairs : lie introduced himself, and not only advised, but entreated, us to abandon the idea. We had, however, decided that, under the circumstances, we must go, at all hazards,- and thanking him for his kind interest in us, as strangers, we proceeded with our preparations. Even after we and all our luggage were on board, he still called down to us to follow 112 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. the example of the other passengers, every one of whom had funked. All this time the wind was blowing furiously, and torrents of rain, driven by its violence, were drenching every- body and everything ; voices could hardly be heard, and the whole scene was bewildering : we remained firm, however, and had the boat literally all to ourselves. The planks were withdrawn, the bell rang, and we were off. Charles Buller remained watching the boat as we moved away, making signs of compassion and adieu. The passage proved such as fully to justify this gentleman's apprehensions, for we were mercilessly tossed about, for four mortal hours, before we reached Folkestone. Some little time after, while at Bruns- wick Terrace, we met our sagacious friend one day on the Esplanade. He immediately came up and shook hands, remarking that he had never expected to see us again alive, for it seems he had known more about that boat than we, and he had considered it unfit to weather such a storm. After this we met frequently, and found him a most agreeable man, full, even over-full, of fun, never missing a pun when he could make one ; and though he had a serious side to his character, and could talk sensibly enough on literature as well as politics, which latter seemed uppermost in his thoughts, he was more of a humourist than a politi- cian, and had a keen perception of the absurdities of life ; sometimes, when in a sarcastic vein, he could be very severe, but like Democritus, I think he preferred laughing at the follies he saw, to mourning over them. He might have been wearisome, but for the good-nature which formed the basis of his character, and led one to believe that when he joked at the foibles of others, it was purely for the sake of the merriment he tried to create for himself and others. He died not many years after this, at a comparatively early age. Count Count d'Orsay born with the century is probably one between whom and himself was barely a tie of kinship, and 138 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. apparently no link of affection or sympathy had ever existed to bring them together ! " Absumet haeres Ccecuba dignior Servata centum clavibus et mero * Tinget pavirnentum superbum Pontificum potiore cceiiis." Mr. and Mrs. Among the many friends who have passed out of contem- porary life is the very agreeable family of the Delanes, who lived many years in Eaton Place West, and though the house was not very large, a handsome dining-room at the back, where one did not expect to find a room of such dimensions, was the scene of many a delightful convivial gathering ; Mr. Delane " of the Times" was as agreeable as he was hospitable ; and Mrs. Delane possessed that art so valuable in a hostess, of knowing how to seat her guests so that the charm of congeniality should bring out the latent sympathies of those assembled round her table. What in fact can be more tedious than the time, worse than wasted at a dinner-table where guests having no ideas, no proclivities, no tastes in common, are yet compelled to sit near each other sharing nothing but their mutual weariness. There is no objection to being coupled with those of opposite opinions opposite even on all subjects for such discussions as would necessarily arise are often most .amusing ; each is put on his mettle and there is a certain pleasure in the exercise of an ingenuity which makes each strive to find new arguments in support of his own theory always provided the disputants have their temper well under control, and agree to remain within the limits of a forbearing discordia concors. A Scotch baronet was once carrying on an animated dis- cussion, at my table, with his next neighbour ; after listening for a moment, I could not refrain from remarking, " Why, Sir H , I feel sure I heard you arguing that question the other way up, a month ago, with Col. ." " Of course MR. AND MRS. DELANE. 139 you did, my good friend," was his reply; "but Col. - took the contrary view to that which this lady has adopted ; if we always agree with those we meet, how can there be any conversation ? " I once heard an elderly and unconventional, but apparently sensible, country squire say to the lady he had taken into dinner, as soon as they were seated, " Now, Ma'am, if you will tell, rue what are your specialities, it will save us both a great deal of trouble ; we have got to talk to each other for a couple of hours, and these may be made to appear longer or shorter according as we establish an under- standing." " Oh ! " said the lady, " it would be so difficult for me to summarize my preferences and my aversions, that the two hours would scarcely suffice for that, and besides, having had all the talk to myself, I should certainly be the loser, for I am sure from your very original introduction, very few sub- jects of conversation would come amiss to you ; I am willing to chance it." But to return to Eaton Place West, where the society was always so agreeable, it was said of Mr. Delane pere, that if any one attemped to talk shop, and any question were asked or any remark were made that he did not find it convenient to take up, he used to say in a good-humoured way " Oh ! ask my son, ask my son ; " or " You must talk to my son about that." I forget how the two elder Misses Pelane left the paternal home, but the youngest married Mowbray Morris, of The Times, and much " about town," and both he and she are long since dead. At their house it was, I think, that I met and became Mr. and Mrs. acquainted with Mr. Andrew Spottiswoode the Queen's Spottiswoode. printer and his wife, and at their interesting old u Queen- Anne " house in James Street Buckingham Gate, often enjoyed their Saturday evening glee and madrigal parties ; juiiong musical connoisseurs, these were frequented by their 140 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. neighbours Sir Andrew and Lady Green, whose niece Miss Fisher was an amateur vocalist of great talent. I remem- ber her meeting at my house one evening Charles Desanges, also an admired amateur, brother of the Chevalier, when they sang together La ci darem with as much entrain and ensemble as if they had laboriously practised it together, though they had never met before and had no experience- of each other's capabilities. The young Spottiswoodes were remarkably agreeable, sensible youths, at an early age taking life au serieux, and organizing with intelligent conscientiousness and benevolent forethought, many admirable schemes for the moral and physical welfare of the men in their employ, and the fami- lies of these men. They passed a great deal of their time at the works in New Street Square, and had a favourite room, the oak panelling of which they told me dated from the time of Dr. Johnson who once occupied it, ana whose old oak arm-chair (in which I have often sat) was still in the place in which the Doctor iised it. They have since, as is well known, made their mark in the literary and scientific annals- of the country. I still happen to have a letter from the elder brother addressed to me at the time I was publishing Flemish Interiors with Longmans, for whom their firm printed, and I subjoin it as testifying to their practical and philanthropic interest in the welfare of their men " 10, LITTLE NEW STREET, GOUGH SQUARE, "21 April, 1856. " DEAR , I have been reading with great interest the sheets of Flemish Interiors as they pass through the press, and wish very much to get some more information on the subject of the Maison des Orphelins at Antwerp. "I should be greatly obliged if you could give me any further particulars of it, or let me know the name of the Superior, or any one, I could write to on the subject. MR. AND MES. ANDREW SPOTTISWOODE. 141 "It is not as an institution for orphans (who have plenty done for them), but for working boys, that I want to know about it. If you have seen any similar institutions elsewhere, I should be very glad to hear about them. " Yours faithfully, " G. A. SPOTTISWOODE." It was at one of M. Garcin de Tassy's agreeable soirees in Professor Paris, that I met the learned and distinguished Professor Palmer and his pretty young wife. I had a long talk with him about his travels in the East, from which he had not long returned. His first journey he told me had been made in 1868, when he led the Sinai Survey Expedition to Arabia Petrea, the expenses of which were defrayed by the Univer- sity of Cambridge, from a fund devoted to such explorations ; I think Wort's travelling- student's fund. He had been recently appointed Lord Almoner's professor of Arabic at Cambridge, he being a Johnian. He and his wife were staying at the Hotel Bergere, in a rather remote quarter of Paris, but I saw them frequently, and I thought Mrs. Palmer a charming little woman, and an interesting mother of two beautiful children ; there was, however, so little appearance of a literary woman about her, that I was thoroughly surprised one day when her husband put into my hands a volume of very creditable poetry pub- lished by her. She was in very delicate health and died of consumption not very long after, nor was it very long before the professor married again, and became the father of a second family. He was sent to Egypt during the campaign against Arabi in 1882, and went full of spirit and earnestness, little thinking he was never to return ! He was accompanied by Lieut. Charrington, K.N., and Captain Gill, E.E., and was chosen on account of his perfect know- ledge of the language, which enabled him, whenever he pleased, to disguise, and pass himself off, as a native ; he was entrusted with a very large sum in gold, for the pur- 142 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. chase of camels to supply the Indian troops, and unfortu- nately this fact somehow got wind. The officers with whom he went were employed by the Government to defend the Suez Canal against the Bedouin tribes, whose conduct w r ith regard to it, was more than suspicious. Their mission was further to cut off telegraphic communication in Arabia, and with this object they started from Suez, and proceeded towards Ghizeh early in August of that year. As they approached this latter city, they were intercepted by emissaries of the governor of Nakl r whose design was to secure the gold which had been en- trusted to the ill-fated Professor, and which he carried about with him. These miscreants having by means of an ambush, secured the three Englishmen, boldly told them they were going to put them to death, and offered them the alternative of jumping off a precipitous rock into the abyss below, or of standing there to be shot. It gives one a cold shudder to think that a fellow-being whom one had known and talked with familiarly, was reserved for so fearful a fate ; it seems, however, that these heroes, utterly helpless in the hands of their captors, had the courage to take in the situation, to accept it, and to make a choice ; but poor Palmer, alone, elected the deadly leap ; the other two submitted to be shot. It is but poor consolation to know that this dastardly governor was subsequently captured, and that he and some half-dozen of his colleagues were hanged. Professor Palmer, though cut off thus early in his dis- tinguished career, had already made diligent use of his proficiency in the Oriental languages ; among lighter lite- rary efforts, he translated into Arabic, Moore's Paradise and the Peri; but a very popular, original work, showing profound research, is his Desert of tlie Exodus, which it is impossible to read without deep interest and sincere admiration for the painstaking and conscientious accuracy with which he has worked out those familiar and yet puzzling wanderings of " forty years." TEDWORTH HOUSE. 143 Staying at a friend's seat in Wilts in 1848, we rode over Assheton one day to Cholderton, to pay a visit to Assheton Smith, Smith - recognized not only in his own country as the first horseman of his day, but by Napoleon, as Le premier chasseur de V Angleterre, and styled by the Parisians " Le grand chasseur Bmit." Tedworth House, as well as its eccentric owner, had a widespread reputation ; as a hunting establishment it was unsurpassed by any in the kingdom in the value of its hounds and hunters, and the admirable arrangement of its kennels and stables. Its conservatory and winter garden were a marvel of taste and magnificence, the former rivalled that of Chatsworth, being a quarter of a mile long and 310 feet broad, and filled with the choicest exotics ; it ad- joined the house and gave entrance to a serpentine gallery 965 feet long, laid out with flower borders on either side of a fine gravel walk, and adorned with statues and fountains ; the whole under glass, and warmed throughout. The existence of these elegant and costly adjuncts was due to the Squire's devotedness to field sports and, I may add, to his affection for his wife. " Le grand Smit " was a chasseur by very nature ; the chase, without which he could not exist, was his passion from infancy to age, though it must not be supposed that he overlooked that mental culture which makes a man a gentleman : he admitted, it is true, that during the eleven years, from seven to eighteen, that he spent at Eton, he "learnt nothing," but there is nothing very unusual in that, but he must (as George Eliot said of one of her heroes) have been "makin' o' himsel' a' the time," and he further compensated for lost years when he went to Oxford, for he was known there as a sound scholar and a most intelligent appre- ciator of the classics ; in the management of his land, and in the arrangement of his kennels, he even made practical use of his familiarity with the Georgics, His passion for sport attached him so inseparably to Tedworth, that on his wife's falling into delicate health, and being ordered to 144 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Madeira, finding it impossible to tear himself away from the pleasures and occupations of the chase, he bethought him of a plan which should obviate the necessity for foreign travel. He said, " As Mrs. Smith could not go to Madeira, he would bring Madeira to her," and indeed, by this in- genious and costly arrangement she could take outdoor exercise throughout the winter without exposure. Another clever contrivance was introduced at Tedworth House, at Vaenol, and also at his London residence in Hyde Park Gardens, whereby, on the same principle as that employed with the trucks at his slate quarries at Lanberris, a minia- ture railway communication was established between the kitchen and dining-room, w T hich worked with great perfec- tion, and was found most convenient in all ways. Pos- sessing the good sense to object to stairs, he had an ascending room, or lift, constructed for the purpose of con- veying him to the rooms above the ground floor; this contrivance had the merit of originality, and anticipated the system now comparatively common, though not yet adopted, in private dwellings. Mrs. Smith was a very charming person, and the pair lived in the utmost harmony, even though she could not share in the ruling passion of her husband's life ; perhaps this circumstance may have contributed to the pleasure with which they met when sport was over, as there was always a pleasing variety to look forward to, in his day's interests. Though my visit to this unique house occurred so many years ago, I still retain a vivid and delightful recollection of that agreeable afternoon, and of the hospitable and thought- ful attentions of its very remarkable owner and his bright and amiable wife. The Squire's own well-considered arrangements to secure the best possible conditions for his hunters and his hounds, resulted in a system so excellent that after the re-building of Tedworth, sportsmen used to come from all parts of England and also from abroad, to admire and to study his plans. ASSHETON SMITH. 145 Connoisseurs were delighted, and even amateurs could not fail to be struck with the finish of every detail and the com- pleteness of the whole. There was an air of order, spacious- ness, and comfort, whether about the stables or the kennels, and every need that could be imagined was provided for, the drainage and ventilation being perfect. Having discovered that something went wrong with the hounds in the original kennels, Mr. Smith carefully sought out the cause of their frequent lameness, and feeling convinced that the site of the building was in fault, he at once decided to remove them to a spot which the subsequently-improved condition of its occupants showed to have been most judiciously selected. Assheton Smith was a thoroughly practical man ; instead of sending for a master builder, he (as he was fond of telling) drew out his own plan on a simple sheet of letter-paper, showed it to his carpenter and mason and set them to work under his own supervision, and within the buildings thus raised, were reared and trained a succession of the finest packs in England. No system of drainage could be simpler, less costly, or more successful than that imagined by Mr. Smith, who boldly did away with all underground drains so that dampness was unknown in these kennels, and the yards being laid with chalk or clay, tightly pressed, the health of the pack became most satisfactory. The hunts- man's house formed part of the building and on one side of it, was a nursery for young hounds. In the middle of one side of the high masonry, which enclosed their turfed play- ground, was a sheltered platform whence visitors, who were admitted from the outer side, could overlook the squire's pets. The old sportsman's justifiable pride in this com- munity of his own creation, so well and so successfully oared for, was delightful to see. It was not my lot to witness one of those famous autumn morning's gatherings at Tedworth, or with the great Nimrod and his party, to " Join the gay throng that goes laughing alonj,' ; " VOL. I. 11 146 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. but I have been told it was a goodly sight to see the Squire- in pink, mounted on one of his favourite hunters, surrounded by the guests he knew so well how to se-lect and to col-lect under his hospitable roof a collection which included as many beautiful women as spirited sportsmen : a bright sky above, a bracing atmosphere around, and a splendid day before them. As may be supposed, besides all the county families for miles around, Assheton Smith, who enjoyed the acquaint- ance of most contemporaries of celebrity, often found them also his guests. Among these he maintained a privileged intimacy with the Duke of Wellington, who may be said to have been a warm personal friend and frequent visitor at Tedworth. The Duke, who w r as never slow to recognize fine qualities in any one, readily discerned, and heartily appre- ciated the frank, cordial, and honest nature of the Squire,, and seemed to think it much to be deplored that he should not have turned his valuable aptitudes to account as a cavalry-officer, in which capacity he considered he would soon have outshone every rival. The two constantly visited each other at Tedworth and Strathfieldsaye, for the Duke delighted in these hunting-parties and admired beyond everything the daring and faultless horsemanship of the finished sportsman, wdthout rival not only in the saddle, but in whatever it pleased him to undertake. A report having, for the second time, got about that " Tom Smith," as he was styled in the sporting world, was dead, the Duke, then at Apsley House, at once sent off the Marquis of Douro from Strathfieldsaye to Tedworth to learn the truth, and finding the report an altogether false one, he wrote him a humorous note. " MY DEAE SMITH, They have killed you again ! But I have been happy to learn the report is without foundation. " They treat you in this respect as they treat me ; I con- clude it is in your capacity of F. M. of Fox hunting. Ever yours most sincerely, "WELLINGTON." HIS SOUND IDEAS ON PUBLIC EDUCATION. 147 Assheton Smith entertained the most just, liberal,' and rational ideas on education ; and the moral welfare of the vast population of men, women, and children in his employ was matter of serious reflection and practical consideration with him. His principle of education was to fit a child for whatever position he was ultimately to fill, and he made it A HERO OF THE CHASE. the first point to teach the children of his labourers their duty to God and to man,* adding sufficient instruction to ;;: Where can we find a finer code of morality, or a more practical rule of life, than in those two admirable items of the Protestant Church-catechism " My duty towards God " and " My duty towards iny neighbour." Plain, comprehensible 148 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. enable then to efficiently discharge both these duties. He considered the education which, even then, a short-sighted policy was blindly endeavouring to force on the working classes, as tending to produce serious and irreparable mis- chief; the cramming, itself, he regarded as prejudicial to physical growth and health ; and the superfluous knowledge (if it could be got into them), he urged, could not fail to fill the minds of the recipients with ideas unsuited to their situation in life and to render them discontented, envious, and perhaps dishonest. The education that he pro- vided, and at his own expense, was judicious, compendious, and useful. His manners were delightful ; free, frank, and hearty ; you saw at once that he was a brave man and an enthusiastic one ; he was fortunate in having no cares, and his life brought him few trials ; but, if like Madam Dido, he learnt miseris succurrere, it was without having experienced the troubles he was always ready to relieve. His tenants, his servants, and his friends were fond of him, though impe- tuous and, from boyhood upwards, even pugnacious noto- riously so. Assheton Smith, nevertheless, however hot- tempered, had great patience and forbearance with anirna]s, and was curiously successful in cultivating their intelligence. It was said he loved his hounds as if they were his children, and knew each one not only by his face, but by his voice. In most of them he had entire confidence, and would back their capabilities against any odds : hounds and horses returned his affection, and would obey his commands at a word. He used to assert that horses were more intelligent than dogs; he could do anything he pleased with his, and they understood him so well that they would forestall his orders as if knowing exactly what he wanted. and comprehensive, if these were made the basis of public education (and of family-prayers) we should have a population of an altogether different stamp from the ignorant, useless, insubordinate, aud dishonest million now turned loose upon the world without any real knowledge by which to earn their bread, and without any principles to guide them. HIS HUNTEES AND KENNELS. 149 Among a vast number of amusing anecdotes that have been collected about this Monarch of the Field, is one showing that the "knack he had of getting across water" was attributable to his resolute way of riding to hounds, by which he had made his horses feel that it was in vain to refuse whatever he might put them at. It is related of him that " once, when hunting in the Harborough country, he was galloping at three parts speed down one of the largest grass fields which abound in that district, in the act of bringing his hounds to a scent, and was looking back to see if they were coming, when, in the middle of the line he was following, he came upon a pool of water into which the animal leaped, thinking, as he had received no check, that he had to do it. Had it been the Thames that was before him, no doubt he would have plunged in, just the same." " His wonderful influence over his hunters a matter of astonishment to every one was once exemplified in a rather curious way when, having mounted a friend on his cele- brated horse Cicero, which was carrying his rider like a bird, the hounds running breast-high across the wide pasture lands of Leicestershire, the keen eye of Assheton Smith discerned at the same time a strong flight of rails of a somewhat ugly aspect, and his friend's evident dislike to encounter it. Judging that he would probably make the horse refuse, he cried out ' Come up, Cicero ! ' At the well-known voice of command, Cicero had but one idea, that of obedience, and over he went, but the rider, who had never intended to perform this feat, was left rolling on the -HISS, fortunately, however, without injury." Assheton Smith was a " character," and so " character- istic " were many of his ways, that some people pronounced him as mad as the distinguished Admiral who enjoyed the same patronymic, and whose " insanity " consisted in risk- ing his own life without a thought, whenever duty, of which he hud a superlative idea, called him to action : of him 150 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Macaulay said "it would be well if we had a few more officers as mad." Assheton Smith's love for, and treatment of, birds and other animals much resembled that of Squire Waterton, and he protected, in a similar way, those which clustered round his house and seemed to seek sanctuary under his protection. Beckford would seem to have had Assheton Smith in his mind's eye when, after asserting that it is not more difficult to find a good premier than a perfect huntsman, he includes in his description of what he ought to be, all those qualifica- tions which peculiarly distinguished the " Great ' Master ' of the nineteenth century " ; the requisites pointed out being a clear head, nice observation, quick apprehension, undaunted courage, strength of constitution, activity of body, a good ear and a good voice these, however, were far from exhausting the catalogue of Assheton Smith's attributes as a mighty hunter. This wonderful sporting-man remained sport-ive to the last, and died if not "in harness," almost in the saddle, in 1858, at the age of 82 ; it must indeed have been, as has been said by those about him, a melancholy spec- tacle to witness the surviving flashes of the " ruling passion strong in death " w r hich continued to animate the once vigorous and dauntless huntsman who seemed unable to exist unless on horseback. During the last days of his waning life, like Francois l er , he still yearned after his favourite pastime, and though, like that monarch, when dying, he had to be assisted to mount, he passed two or three hours daily, riding up and down his vast winter-garden, a poor substitute, it is true, for the wild fields over which he had been accustomed to range : no sooner, however, was he on the back of one of his favourite horses than he looked ten years younger, and it was matter of never-ending wonder to his attendants, that he not only maintained himself in the saddle, but that his hand HIS HABITS. 151 had lost none of its cunning, So perfect was his system of riding, and so entirely had habit become second nature, that he left full play to his mount and could still check him at pleasure in the liberties he permitted himself, with a dex- terity and a coolness which served him instead of vigour and muscular force. " E'en in our ashes, live their wonted fires." " Tom Smith," throughout his long life, and even in the days when to be a hard drinker, so far from being a disgrace, was rather a boast, was extremely temperate, and it was with difficulty he could be persuaded to take any kind of stimulant in his last illness. He usually made a hearty breakfast, and rarely took anything between that meal and his late dinner.* Despite his somewhat imperious manner (resulting probably from the high estimation in which he was held, and the court paid to him as possessing a unique county and social, position), he had splendid qualities of heart and mind. He always acted on high principles, and did valuable and lasting service in giving a tone of refinement to field sports generally, discountenancing every kind of coarseness, and allowing no approach to intemperance within his own circle. To forward this end, he made up his hunting-parties with a judiciously selected contingent of the fair sex, and however rough a rider he may have been, he never lost sight of the courtesies and amenities of life. An amusing and humorous story is told, illustrative of the vagaries of his character. " He was in the habit," says the narrator, " of often staying at Belvoir Castle for the facility of joining the various packs in the neigh- bourhood, and would frequently ride to cover of a morning from Belvoir to Gumley, a distance of over thirty miles, ;;: This was not an unusual practice at that time. I knew an English general, long in the Indian service, who lived to ninety-five, and who, though he frequently sat at the family luncheon table, would on no consideration have eaten a mouthful between 8 a.m. and 8 p.m., regarding lunch as " an insult to breakfast and an injury to dinner." 152 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. and back again at night. To get through such long distances he had to rise early, and, therefore, to break- fast alone, at the Castle. On one occasion he took it into his head that he was not being served with proper respect and consideration, and he complained to the butler of a want of due attention in the preparation of the breakfast put before him. The Duke was informed by the man of what had passed, and next morning when he sat down to his early meal he found the table surrounded by all the servants in their state liveries." "Another time he had complained of not being supplied with a sufficiency of muffins ; the Duke having heard of it ordered the servants, when he next breakfasted there among other guests', to ply him with a continual succession of hot muffins. The Duke had a great regard for ' Tom Smith,' and as he felt quite sure that he received every kind of con- sideration from his servants, he thought that this humorous rebuke would remove the impression that there had been any want of attention on the part of his household." Assheton Smith had no children, and left the whole of his enormous wealth, unreservedly, to his wife, who, however, survived him but a very few months. Mrs. Smith at her death, made a very fair distribution of the property, leaving the whole of her husband's Welsh possessions, exceeding in value 40,000 a year, to the grandson of his sister, and the Tedworth estate to the sons of her own sister. I remember a curious legal quibble that arose out of the wording of Mrs. Assheton Smith's will ; to the best of my recollection her property in Wilts was left to cue nephew and that in Hants to another ; when the will came to be acted upon, it was discovered that, in the case of the Wilts property, the house stood in one county and the land lay in the other, and the law decided that the property must be divided, not according to the spirit, but according to the letter of the will ! Among social and literary celebrities of the century it- would be impossible to omit mention of an old and valued CHARLES WATERTON. 153 friend, the great naturalist, Charles Waterton, another cele- brated " Squire," were it not that there would be so much of a personal nature to relate about him that it would alto- gether exceed the limits of this work. Charles Waterton's popularity was (and remains) so universal that no one would care to have a shabby and abbreviated account of him ; I therefore reserve the matter that relates to him for a future publication. It must have been somewhere about 1854 that I used frequently to see the Ouseley family, the son and two H.E. SIB WILLIAM GONE OCSELEY. (Ambassador Extraordinary to the Court of Pinia.) daughters of Sir William Gore Ouseley, the celebrated sir Wm. Gore . J 7 Ouseley and j diplomatist and Orientalist Persian ambassador under his Family. George IV. The Misses Ouseley were extremely cultivated, and at the time I speak of, their brother, the Kev. Sir Frederick Arthur Gore Ouseley, being curate under the J. AY. E. In'imett, of St. Barnabas' celebrity, they very much engrossed in parochial work in that locality. They possessed u number of rare Eastern curios, 154 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. brought back by their father from the scenes of his diplomatic service, and were most kind in showing this unique collection to any friends interested in ancient Oriental art. Some Persian illuminated MSS. of early date were surprising for the taste and minuteness with which they were executed. In one of these I happen to remember an exquisitely painted, quaint, and curiously- fashioned tree ; on one of the branches was a nest just discernible to the unassisted eye, but on applying a magni- fying glass, it was found to be full of tiny eggs ; it is almost incredible that such work could be executed without a lens. The colours of these ancient illuminations, too, were most brilliant, and the gold touches as bright as if they had been applied but yesterday. When Mr. Bennett left the scene of his labours at Knightsbridge, and accepted from the Marquess of Bath the living of Frome, the Misses Gore Ouseley followed him, and whenever I went there, I found them most assi- duously and practically interested in the labours of the parish. They displayed great taste and aptitude in all varieties of artistic work, and passed their leisure in designing and working, either with the paint-brush or the needle, tasteful and elaborate ecclesiastical decorations. The whole family was musical, but Sir Frederick was a born musician, displaying his extraordinary capacity from the nursery days (in which, according to a well-known .story, he one day exclaimed that " papa had sneezed in the key of C "), till he ultimately attained to a wonderful proficiency in the science ; at eight years of age he had written an opera L'isola disabitata ; cantatas followed, and one of these was the exercise by which he proved himself entitled to the honour of Mus. Bac. in 1850, when aged only twenty-five. In 1854 he took the higher degree in music on producing his oratorio of St. Polycarp, and he was most prolific in sacred music ; ultimately he obtained the Professorship of Music at THE GORE OUSELEY FAMILY. 155 Oxford, he was also Precentor of Hereford Cathedral, and later was inducted to St. Michael's, Tenbury, where he instituted the daily choral service. Sir Frederick was a graduate of Christ Church, Oxford ; he died in 1889, and the title became extinct. As a contemporary testimony to the value of Sir William Gore Ouseley as an Oriental scholar, I may quote Cyrus Eedding * who, on the -death of Ouseley, speaks in a despondent tone of our chances of ever fathoming the depths, and fully appreciating the beauties, of Eastern litera- ture. He writes in 1858 : " So little public interest is felt on learned topics, that it is only through such institutions as the Camden Society, that any of the works of Orientalists or indeed any similar subjects from other sources can again be expected to appear in English garb ; . . . the taste for Eastern learning in all its branches has, since the death of Sir William Gore Ouseley, rapidly declined." I once accompanied a friend to call on Lord John Russell, Earl Busseii. then Earl Russell, at Pembroke Lodge, Richmond, given to him by the Queen. It was somewhere about 1870, and the Earl must have been nearly eighty. Though there was no sign of absolute infirmity, he looked his age, and his small stature gave him the appearance of being shrunk. He wore a black skull-cap and a comfortable dressing-gown, and was seated writing at a knee-hole table covered with papers for he received us in his study. His memory seemed bright, and he talked of his vivid recollection of my friend's father, and of his book on the authorship of Junius's letters, expressing his decided opinion as to their having emanated from the pen of Francis. He told the story of some young Club-man (I forget whom) having been sent by a group of others, who saw Sir Philip approaching, to ask him if he were the writer of that disputed correspondence. " What's :;: History of His Own Times, vol. iii. p. 9. 156 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. that to you, sir? " answered Francis, fiercely; on which the inquirer hastily retreated, returning with the reply, " I don't know if he's Junius, but there's no doubt he's Brutus." Lord Russell's manner was pleasant and cordial, and he smiled and spoke kindly to one of his children who came into the room. It was not very long after Christmas, and when he took us through a door of communication into the drawing-room, I observed a large bunch of mistletoe sus- pended from the chandelier, and a fringe of the same arranged along the lintel over the folding doors, suggesting a recent merry-meeting of young folks. The Earl died in 1878, and it was his grandson who succeeded him. sir Waiter With the late Sir Walter Stirling, who died in December, 1888, at the age of eighty-seven, I enjoyed a valued friend- ship of nearly thirty years. With him departed a well- known figure in London society, in which he was a general favourite, from his kind and genial manner, and very inte- resting conversation : he had always a fund . of anecdote at command, and was an admirable raconteur. It is to be regretted he did not note down his reminiscences, which,, owing to his large acquaintance and wide cultivation, ex- tended over an unusual number of persons and subjects, and would have proved a source of enjoyment to all appreciators- of social research. Sir Walter's own tastes were exceedingly refined, and he was a keen connoisseur in works of art : he W 7 as so constant an liabitue at Christie's that he will long be missed within those familiar walls, where it was a real plea- sure to meet him, and to listen to his remarks on every de- scription of article of virtu. I may fairly say that it was rare to meet Sir Walter without obtaining some little bit of valuable information which few others at the present day could have supplied, and I have often regretted not having made notes of many conversations I have had with him. His ideas on social subjects were straightforward, sen- sible, honest, and considerate, and he spoke, on public and semi-public occasions, with an evident sincerity of SIR WALTER STIRLING. 157 conviction which always gave value to his words. It would be well for this country if his views of public " education " (as it has come to be administered) were more widely shared and could be practically applied. He entertained a shrewd appreciation of its then corning and now, alas! palpable results. We are, in fact, already undergoing, to the spreading dissatisfaction and alarm of the country, the realization of Sir Walter's fore- cast, founded on wise reflection, and resulting from sound and logical judgment. One day, \vhen writing to myself, he had unconsciously taken up a sheet of paper, on the other side of which he had apparently jotted down the heads of an intended speech. However fragmentary, they are indicative of what he purposed to point out, and were as follows : " Crude, ill-considered pleas So-called ' education,' not the kind of education wanted Education suppos'd to sharpen wits Proofs ? Increase of roguery everywhere General untrustworthiness Thieves who get the benefit of science to misuse it No more principles Art prostituted Renders folks irreligious Disloyal Critical Rebellious -Disaffected Unfaithful Disobedient to employers Unhappy -- Discontented Ideas above their station Leading to envy, hatred, malice, and finally dishonesty." In telling Sir Walter of his oversight I added I should store up these mems., and only hoped that the speech which was to embody them would be fairly reported and widely circulated. Talking with him of the levelling tendencies of the age, and quoting Danton's crude and illogical reply (when asked what was the object of the Revolution) to the effect that " C'est pour mettre dessus ce qui est (lessons, et pour mettre dessous ce qui est dessus." Sir Walter answered " So that in the next generation there will have to be another public movement in England to restore the masses and the classes respectively to their original positions ! " 158 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. " The fact is," he continued, " we have had, or rather are having, a Revolution in England ; the motives are the same though with less excuse as those which occasioned the Revolution in France ; but we are not a sanguinary people and the object is being accomplished without bloodshed." I have many of Sir Walter's letters ; he had the art of writing with conciseness, and saying much in a few words ; he wrote a clear and beautiful hand, delightfully legible, and though it might be likened to copper-plate, it indicated a very distinctive character. I have spoken of Sir Walter as a raconteur, and I was often surprised at the d propos of his anecdotes. Chancing to meet him, one day, in Hyde Park, and making some remark on that portion of Park Lane which belongs to the Stanhope estate, he related the curious disposition of it made by Lord Chesterfield of elegant memory. At the time of that nobleman's death it was worth no more than 50,000. This may have seemed a large figure then, but is wholly disproportionate to its present value. Having no legitimate son, he bequeathed it to his nephew, saddled, however or rather, bridled with so stringent and so dis- tasteful a condition, that the reckless youth seemed in every way likely to leap over the traces. He was an inveterate turfite, and the Earl must have had a shrewd suspicion that he would never, even should he be induced to make the attempt, give up the one pursuit which had long formed the charm of his life. Yet were the terms of this Will such, that, if ever he was found at Newmarket, a fine of 5,000 out of the estate became forfeit to the Dean and Chapter of Westminster. That this prudent and respectable body would prove sufficiently mindful of their own interests to keep a vigilant eye on the heir they might become entitled to mulct, the wily old Earl, no doubt, felt fully satisfied. The event proved with what subtlety he had fathomed the depths of human nature ; it was not long before the con- tingency provided against, occurred, and the property duly SIR WALTER'S ANECDOTES. 159 reverted to the ecclesiastical corporation, who had, of course, kept a vigilant look-out. The terms of Lord Chesterfield's Will were as follows : " In case my said godson Philip Stanhope shall at any time hereafter keep or be concerned in keeping of any race-horses or pack of hounds, or shall reside one night in Newmarket that infamous den of iniquity and ill manners- during the races there, or shall resort to the said races, or shall lose on any one day at any game or bet soever, the sum of 500, it is my express wish that he my said godson shall forfeit and pay out of my estate 5,000 for the use of the Dean and Chapter of Westminster." A curious personal anecdote that Sir Walter once told me is illustrative of the changes a few years bring into our social habits. He was sitting on the Derby Day, 1828, in the window of White's Club, where a number of members interested in the result of the race were anxiously awaiting the name of the " winner." The news, it seems, was for- warded by pigeon service instead of, as at present, by yell- ing men and screeching boys and at last the winged mes- senger was descried. The excitement was immense, but it was soon intensified by the singular manoeuvres of the bird,, which, instead of alighting at the destined point, continued, for some unexplained reason, to hover over the spot. At length one member who had a large stake in jeopardy, could no longer brook the delay, and fetching a loaded gun he aimed at the bird and shot it dead. " Yes," he concluded,. " I saw that, myself, in St. James's Street." The betting of those days, however, was proverbial though perhaps less widely spread than now. There was no question, however important, or however trifling, which did not immediately become the subject of a bet, and the anecdotes that survive of the extent to which the practice was carried by the Prince Eegent, Fox, Sheridan, Croker, and others, are too well known to need quotation. 160 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Towards the end of his life, poor Sir Walter's hearing became impaired, and it was scarcely possible to carry on any conversation with him. It was evidently a sad affliction to himself, and of his friends there could be none who did not deplore it. He had long been a careful and intelligent collector of works of art, adding with judgment and taste from time to time to those he owned by inheritance. I always admired in him an independence of spirit mani- fested in occasional deviations from the hard-and-fast laws of social tyranny. When a man of any influence and posi- tion is bold enough to make his way through " the cactus- hedge of conventionality" at his own good pleasure, and in a way that harms no one, he creates a valuable precedent and confers a benefit on his class. Though aged and deaf, Sir Walter never became senile, and always continued to be thoughtful for others. Not very long before his death, presiding at a meeting of the Art Union Society, of which he had for many years been a member, he wound up his speech with a complimentary allusion to the worth of the Secretary, whose loug and efficient services in that capacity, he said, were profoundly appreciated by the Association. He spoke with an apparent presentiment of the probably near conclusion of his term of life, and gave expression to his desire not to let this opportunity pass, as he would wish not to depart till he had fulfilled this friendly duty. Being in the habit of speaking in public, his voice was audible through the hall, and there was no person present who was not penetrated with the pathetic simplicity and sincerity of his words, so soon to be verified. Mr. F. I was a ^ a large party at the house of the American Adams, the Minister, Mr. J. Francis Adams, in Portland Place, on the American ~f Minister. national anniversary fete July 4th, in the year 1867. It was remarkable on account of the stirring incidents then occurring in Mexico, and it was just at that moment that news w r as received of the execution of the ill-fated and victimized Emperor Maximilian so beloved in his own CONVERSAZIONE AT THE AMERICAN MINISTER'S. 161 countyr a startling and also a pathetic episode in that melancholy history ; horrifying, too, to think that that brave but ill-advised young Prince was abandoned to the barbarity of semi-savages and that not a hand or a voice was raised throughout the civilized world to save him scarcely to condemn the treachery of the Emperor on whose promised support he had relied. A grand supper formed part of the entertainment ; being seated near the master of the house and the conver- sation turning on the tragic event, I could not but ex- press my horror of all who had contributed directly or indirectly to the ghastly consummation : but there was no responsive pity in the reply I received ; on the contrary, America made believe to regard the execution as " a just retribution for the Prince's merciless abuse of power at the very commencement of his brief reign." The minister urged that he had inaugurated it by signing the death- warrants of all who had taken any part in the defence of Juarez. It was in vain I reminded him that, even sup- posing this measure not to have been a necessary one, it was Marechal Bazaine, if not the French Government itself, which had decreed it ; indeed it was universally known that Maximilian's nature was clement and forgiving, also that Bazaine had been his evil genius from first to last ; he had industriously striven by every possible means to unpopu- 1 arize the unfortunate Emperor; he had mismanaged most disgracefully the affairs of the country, and when ruin fell upon the young Prince, he had supported Napoleon III. in his treachery, and encouraged that Emperor to abandon him to his fate. This, I soon found, was not the view taken by the American mind. "Why," said they, " was he so weak; why did he consent to be directed by such a fellow as Bazaine ? Why, indeed, did he accept the position at all ? " "Why?" said I, "but because he was a fine, spirited youth, of too noble a nature to suspect that those who had VOL. I. 12 162 GOSSIP OP THE CENTUKY. forced the position on him, on the understanding that he was to count on their support, intended remorselessly to abandon him." "Nay," was the reply, "if it be admitted that he followed an ill-advised policy against his own better judgment, he had no excuse ; and granting his fine feeling, clear head, and distinct consciousness of the course he ought to have pursued, his vacillation becomes but the more reprehensible." In fact, from whatever cause, all who had by degrees joined in the conversation were equally unrelenting in their con- demnation of the unfortunate Prince. I remembered that when at Heilbronn I had seen por- traits of Maximilian at several stages of his infancy and youth, all remarkable for the sweet and innocent, yet spirited character they gave him ; and it seemed sad indeed to think that a Prince of so much promise and so beloved and valued as he had been there, should have come to so tragic and untimely an end. The 4th July celebration being a conversazione, there was no dancing ; the rooms were nevertheless half filled with ladies, many of them young, and nearly all, handsome ; some remarkably so : these I was told were from St. Louis, where the beauty of the women is universally recognized. These ladies were apparently fully conscious of their charms which were liberally unveiled, and no one seemed scandalized. The Minister's wife was a very elegant woman, and she herself was very modestly dressed ; it is true she had grown-up daughters, one of them already married, who, however, followed the fashion that prevailed among the rest, and which might airly be said to exceed the limits of good taste. Mr. and Mrs. There are few among us who will not remember the social uprise and rapid spread of the ' ' spiritualistic move- ment," first in London and then in the provinces. It began with turning tables, went on to turning hats, and ended by turning heads. Heads being turned, the new science took MR. AND MRS. S. C. HALL. 163 a new start, and though it was soon abandoned by the majority, a large minority held on, like grim death, and some of those are sticking to it still ! Among the social celebrities of their time who became proselytes and also proselytizers to a practical belief in the supernatural, were that original pair of notabilities Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall. Mrs. S. C. Hall had the charming manners of her nationality, and made herself extremely popular with the vast number of acquaintances she attracted to her salon. There was humour of a spontaneous kind in her conversa- tion, though it never amounted to " absolute bullism." I was calling on her one day with a young English girl who, in the course of conversation, vehemently declared that she would " never marry any but a Frenchman." " Ah ! my dear," said Mrs. S. C. Hall, "when the right man comes, you won't stop to inquire into his nationality." The gatherings there, were generally lively and amusing ; habitues met, and there was often some centre of attraction which interested all, while the general friendly feeling among the guests showed that all felt themselves in a homelike atmosphere. Now and then there would be a stray " lion " of the literary or artistic type whose roar was startling, and whom people thought it amusing to meet outside his cage, and without a keeper ; sometimes there were musical geniuses, vocal or instrumental, stars of greater or lesser generally lesser magnitude. Sometimes indeed frequently Mr. Home was to be met there, and then Mrs. Hall was thoroughly in her element. She believed in all the phenomena of spiritualism, and Mr. Home was her prophet. Occasionally the weekly apres-midi proved neither more nor less than a spiritualistic seance, and the usual experiences for there is a wonderful similarity in them were manifested to the company. On my arrival, one day, I was accosted by a friend who expressed her regret that I had not come earlier, as I had 164 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. missed a very extraordinary sight ; Mr. Home, it appeared, " had taken a red-hot cinder out of the fire, with his fingers., and had laid it on the palm of Mrs. S. C. Hall's hand." Every one thought it a wonderful feat, and I asked my informant what was her own opinion of it. " Well, to tell you the truth," said she, " I didn't see it myself" one never does get these things first-hand ! " but was told of it by a gentleman who said it was just before I came in." " Who was it that told you ? " " I did not hear his name, but he said that while in the next room he heard something unusual going on near the fireplace, and got in just after Mrs. Hall had dropped the coal." This kind of labyrinthine evidence is not very new, but often satisfies those to whom it is imparted. I contented myself with a private smile, reserving the right of mistrusting it r though of course we all know how cleverly conjuring tricks can be performed even by amateurs if they are sufficiently practised. Mr. Homp. It would have been an abuse of the rites of hospitality to- run a tilt with Mrs. S. C. Hall, so implicit was her own faith in the sincerity of her friend and apostle. Mr. Home, too, was one of the most amusing men imaginable, and a real acquisition whether at a large or "small, tea-party." At narration he was wonderfully proficient quite at Jiome, in fact and could move his audience to laughter or to tears,. at his own good pleasure ; he had moreover great power of face, and remembered the Horation precept " . . . Si vis me flere, dolendum est Primum ipsi tibi." . . . The buzz of voices and clatter of teaspoons was suddenly suspended ; Mrs. S. C. Hall had contrived, notwithstanding the din, to intimate that Mr. Home was going to "favour the company : " the centre of the room was cleared, chairs, MR. HOME. 165 were pushed back to the wall and were soon ranged, with more or less regularity, in rows. It pleased the reciter, who was sometimes serious and sentimental in his narrations, to be funny on this occasion, and he told two irresistibly droll stories ; the humour, which tickled the audience immensely, consisting as much in his manner as in the matter. The more amusing of the two was a clever and ingenious parody of the world-famed legend of George Washington and the cherry-tree ; this version of " the chapter of the blanket," instilled with gospel-reverence into every child of the States, fortunately found in the assembly no national hearers, or the reciter might have been challenged on the spot for blasphemy. In the second story, as in the first, the Yankee accent was imitated with a spirit of fun and a degree of fidelity which added greatly to the diversion of the company ; its humour was directed against the character of Texas as a residence, and was conceived in the same spirit as the dictum of the American, who declared " If those two properties Hell and Texas b'longed to me, I'd let Texas, and go and live in Hell." The Halls had adopted a very original plan perhaps, as was said, as an excuse for holding a periodical sale of bibelots and articles of furniture acquired and accumulated in the process of art-journal business of changing their residence regularly every three years, and during the long period I was acquainted with them, they adhered religiously to the practice. They never complained of the expense and trouble so irksome to others that there is a universally ex- pressed preference for the proverbial fire nor did they appear to take into account the inevitable vexations of loss, damage, breakage, or robbery no, the migration had passed into an accepted habit ; it had to be done, and they did it. The most surprising circumstance connected with it, was, that no sooner had they established themselves in a new temporary domicile than they set to work with patient labour and also 166 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. considerable taste, to decorate and adorn their rooms with an elaborate display of Chinoiseries and bric-a-brac, rendering them as elegant with these attractive accessories, as if they were established there for life. They possessed a brass door- plate inscribed " Bannow Lodge," from which they never parted, and whithersoever they removed it always appeared, screwed on, at, or near the entrance. I believe it was the name of a " place " they once possessed in Ireland. Mr. S. C. Hall who looked upon his " Maria " as the con- centration of every virtue and the possessor of any amount of sound sense, followed in her wake in his belief in the supernatural, and came out more strongly with it after her death ; he used to edify his friends with accounts of the interviews he had with her after she was in the world of spirits, and he even put into type many details of these spiritual communications. It should be added that this was all in sober seriousness, for S. C. Hall tabooed any other kind of spirits, and emulated George Cruikshank in his teetotal views : I have heard him called " Temperance Hall." Both the Halls had, as is well known, contributed to the literature of their country, and though their works are not likely to be very long-lived, and were probably written with some idea of benefiting themselves their authors obtained a handsome double allowance from the limited funds of the Civil List : and this was continued to Mr. S. C. Hall after his wife's death. The Memoirs Mr. Hall wrote are, however, fully as useful and as interesting as any " reminiscences " that have appeared, and the lively descriptions and anec- dotes that his pages supply of well-known individuals make very pleasant reading. For some years before her death, Mrs. Hall, though remaining as active, bright, and lively as ever, gave up going into society either in the morning or evening, but main- tained her reception days and contrived to the last, to gather many friends around her. MB. S. C. HALL'S BIOGBAPHEBS. 167 Mr. Hall survived his wife some years, not departing this life till March, 1889. At his death the various obituary notices that appeared, written apparently in a spirit of indulgent patronage, must be said to have damaged far more than they benefited his reputation. The writers seem to have combined to laud the poor man in the clumsiest way, instituting a negative style of praise by asserting that he was not a humbug, not a charlatan, not anything but exactly what he ought to have been ; that he did not get literary help from his w r ife, that he did not send round the hat, that his house was not adorned with contributions from advertisers ; in short, there was not one of these indiscreet effusions which did not suggest the exclamation, " Save me from my friends ! " There was much in Samuel Carter Hall's life that deserves commendation, and, but for these injudicious scribblers, he might have been remembered, at least, as a fine old man with a pleasant face, surrounded by an abundance of snow-white hair. He was always good-natured, and also always courteous in his manner, and as no one mistook him for a genius, nothing extraordinary was expected of him ; at all events, no one can have been disappointed in him. Whether the mind of London society was particularly Spiritualism. desaeuvre at this time, or, for some undefined reason, specially predisposed to succumb to the moral epidemic which crept into all circles and invaded all social gather- ings, it is difficult to say ; but certain it is that spiri- tualistic seances became a favourite form of enter- tainment, whether in public or private assemblies. For the former, lectures on the subject of spiritualism, illustrated by the practical introduction of phenomena attributed to its power, brought little fortunes to those who possessed the art of interesting their public, and making capital of human credulity ; from the classes of course this fashionable fad soon spread to the masses, and from the salons of the upper ten it filtered into the shop- 168 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. parlour of the pork-butcher. Table-turning was soon the recognized amusement of the " small-and-earlies " of the humbler, as it had been that of the more fashionable, assem- blies of the higher classes. It cost nothing ; no plant was required, and it made fun ; it afforded opportunities for the intimacy which insensibly establishes itself round a common interest ; it gave facilities for flirtation, and it pleased every- body. This form of alleged spiritualistic agency, on be- coming popular, necessarily degenerated into a romp, and was ultimately abandoned to those who enjoyed it all the more on that account. "Spirit-rapping" then got its turn, professors suddenly started up in all directions, and were eagerly welcomed, not only by the idle and frivolous who sought in it mere amuse- ment, but also by the thoughtful and even the scientifically disposed, who " couldn't help fancying some that there might, others that there must, be something in it." At afternoon or evening parties where spirit-rapping, hat, or table-turning. &c., was the order of the day, a great mixture of intelligences was sure to be collected ; some individuals came for the "fun of the thing," some to be puzzled, some to be enlightened. At the time this mania was at its wildest, and London was infested by so-styled " mediums," fashionable women were only too glad, as the season came on, to engage them at absurd prices, as they would any other of the " amusing" classes, to entertain their guests ; it " employed the even- ing," it was " something new," and the hostess, fortunate enough to secure the services of a male or female " Alexis," got talked about among people of ton, who followed in her wake at the first opportunity, and tried also to achieve a social success. Alexis was the champion medium, and it was at a friend's house in Westbourne Terrace that I first witnessed his performances, but though this seer and the " Barnum " who exhibited him went through many remarkable feats, these SPIRITUALISTIC SEANCES. 169 appeared singularly similar to the sleight- of- hand tricks of ordinary conjurors, though decidedly less daring and original, and some of their experiments unquestionably hung fire. It is scarcely worth while to enumerate the items of their programme, for the identical list has been repeated by all similar exhibitors, both at the time and since ; but I may remark that most of the work was done by more or less clever guessing, sometimes wearisomely protracted. One experiment consisted in reading, through the opacity of a wooden box " securely locked," a word written on a folded paper within it ; the promised result, however, was arrived at only after a series of absurdly palpable guesses, during which the writer of the word was pretty sure, unconsciously, to betray himself and aiford some clue to it. Alexis would begin by surmising it was a word of so many syllables ; sometimes he happened to be right the first time ; then he would state " he was pretty sure it began with a vowel," of course if it didn't there could be only one alternative, so he was really getting on. I was disappointed, for I had expected, if he could see the word at all, he would see it all at once, but it seems this was one of the little ways of the fraternity. An incident which throws some light on the subject may as well be related. A friend of mine staying on a visit in London was asked by his host if he would like to attend a stance. "Thank you," said he, "to be candid, I don't think much of this sort of pastime, there are so many things in London I had rather bestow the time upon ; but don't let me prevent you from going." " Oh ! I shall go certainly," replied the other, " for I am very curious to witness this man's discovery of any word a sceptic likes to write, seal up, and even then hold at a distance." "If that is all," said my friend, "I don't see any reason why I should be present ; why shouldn't I write down a 170 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. word ' orchestra ' for example seal it up and give it to- you ; if he succeeds, you will bring back nay envelope intact with his acknowledgment of it written on the outside." So said, so done ; the envelope was sealed in three places with the coat of arms of the writer. When the friends met at dinner after the seance, the host put into the hands of his guest his envelope with the triple seal as secure as when it left them, and he pointed with a triumphant finger to the word "orchestra" scored on the outside by the seer, adding " I was sorry you weren't there- to see how easily he did it ; very wonderful indeed, isn't it ? " "Now," answered the unbeliever, with difficulty sup- pressing his mirth, " suppose you open it, and get a second proof of the fellow's cleverness." He did as bidden, and greater was his surprise than before to find within, nothing but the word " Humbug." Having witnessed the mode of proceeding adopted by Alexis, I can give full credence to this anecdote. The seance at which I assisted lasted fully two hours, and I cannot believe any one present was converted by what passed. Kogers relates in his diary that, when in Paris, he, too r attended a seance of Alexis, and though he obtained from this clever fellow a tolerably accurate description of his house in St. James's Place, and was somewhat startled by it, he came away unconvinced, for he concludes : ' Still I cannot believe in clairvoyance, because the thing is impossible " (the italics are Rogers' s). It is quite possible that Alexis or his showman adroitly drew from Kogers himself the description which Alexis. seemed to be supplying, though this explanation did not,, apparently, suggest itself to him. It was some little time after this, that I was invited to a soiree at the house of a friend in Brat on. Street, who had engaged an American spiritualist and lady-professor, Mrs. Haydon, for the edification of the company. I was led to understand that her terms were 25 for the evening. AN INDISCREET SPIRIT. 171 The company may have numbered from fifty to sixty, among whom I remember Sir Thomas and Lady Talfourd r because the former not only took a very critical view of the whole affair, but undisguisedly expressed his indignation at an incident which occurred during the evening. Several exhibitions of the powers of second-sight took place, and then came spiritual manifestations. The spirits had been duly invoked, had been pronounced present, and the company was invited to consult them through the medium : a young girl, whose fiance was in India, took it into her head to inquire after his well-being ; but unfortunately the spirits were not discreet, and after a lengthy series of raps, the medium spelt out the terrible word " killed." The young lady seems to have been a believer, for she forthwith screamed and fainted in the arms of an old gentleman sitting next to her, who seemed terribly embarrassed to know how to dispose of his fair burthen. Great was the commotion ; scent-bottles, glasses of water, and even of brandy, in an incredibly short time abounded round the young victim of her own credulous curiosity, the ladies naturally crowded up to her, offering her everything except space and air ; the gentlemen stood in consternation, till one of them had the good sense to open a window, and another suggested to the hostess to call her maid in. When this functionary appeared she sensibly enough carried the patient off into another drawing-room, and then Serjeant- Talfourd, who had become very red in the face, gave Mrs- Haydon what would vulgarly be called a "bit of his mind," and a very large and bitter " bit " it was ; but nobody suc- ceeded in making out how she produced those raps which Punch , not inaptly, likened to " phantom postmen delivering the dead letters." The table-turning that evening, how- ever, succeeded to the universal satisfaction of the invites. The table which so amiably lent itself to the occasion was a very large, ponderous, rosewood loo-table, on pillar and claw, and round about it stood twelve persons, including 172 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. myself. Albeit I have never yet had any reason to believe in the supernatural, I cannot possibly deny that that table began, very soon after we had formed the prescribed chain, to play the wildest pranks ; its antics becoming more and more grotesque and ridiculous, as by dint of reeling and whirling, it went, carrying us along with it, from one end of the room to the other not even hesitating at the narrower space between the folding-doors a length of fully sixty feet. I am sorry, however, to leave incomplete my story of the spirit-statement as to the young man out in India : a burglary having taken place in my friend's house shortly after I don't mean even to hint at the complicity of the spirits who had been invoked that night she took so strong a dislike to it that she could not bring herself to reside there, after it. She therefore let her house and went abroad, so that I never had an opportunity of ascertaining whether that most injudicious reply was justified by the fact, or whether it was the malicious invention of a lying spirit. Robert Browning used to tell a story of a visit he paid, when at Florence, to an old philosopher named Kirkup, with the object of borrowing a book of him. He found him engaged with a female " medium " apparently in a state of trance, on whom, he was practising experiments. " Ah ! my dear fellow r ! " said he, " how glad I am you are come, for I can now practically demonstrate to you those supernatural facts which I believe you still doubt. Now see, I will desire this woman to raise her arm an order you would give her in vain and I can make her maintain it rigidly in that position during as many hours as I please." Suiting the action to the word, after Browning had made the attempt unsuccessfully, he gave the command which was immediately obeyed. Browning exerted his strength to move or bend the limb, but it continued as stiff as when Kirkup had fixed it. " Now," said the good old man, " I will fetch your book." His back was hardly turned, when Browning, who was A SEANCE IN CAPUA. examining some MSS. on the table, felt a touch on his- shoulder and, turning round, saw the woman wink at him and immediately resume her attitude as Kirkup's returning steps were heard. Comment is needless. I remember seeing in the market-place at Capua an amusing fellow, who performed precisely the same sort of tricks as Alexis ; but with infinitely greater fun and humour. I can see his bright, laughing, black eyes and his dazzling white teeth, as he and the partner who assisted him played off their ingenious tricks upon the merry gathering that surrounded them. It was made up of simple country folk,. visiting the unsophisticated little town of Capua on market day, and struck aghast by the plausibility with which one of these dexterous showmen, seating himself blindfold in a chair, audaciously told them little personal facts, which each one thought known only to himself. With one or two confederates, adroitly dispersed through the crowd, they succeeded in establishing a firm belief among the na'ifs that' they were supernaturally endowed. The plan was for one after another, who wanted his character given or his fortune told, to come up and stand in front of the blinded performer, who, without hesitating or guessing, ran off all he had to say, not only with ludicrous rapidity, but with the most humorous turn of phrase. The first applicant no doubt a confederate approached with the most awkward and timid gestures, as if he shrank from the publicity about to be given to his private circum- stances. The medium, however, showed no delicacy in the matter, and after taking his hand in his, reported at once : " This fellow is much older than he admits, yet any one can see the absurdity of his conduct ; he is courting a young girl of sixteen, named Kosalia, who, naturally, laughs at him behind his back ; but he doesn't know it. I don't suppose you believe me, and of course, I can't prove that ; but if anybody can make him open his mouth, they can see that I speak the truth when I assert that he has but five teeth left.. 174 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. three in front and one on either side to match its fellow." Of course, the poor victim was immediately collared and captured by the crowd ; one held him down while another forced open his mouth, and loud was the laugh against him when the defective state of his dental resources was found to have been described so correctly as to constitute a guarantee of the truth of his private history. But if some were engaged in chaffing the old fellow, and in making pungent remarks upon the vanity of his courtship, others were ready, after this successful trial, to avail themselves -of the powers of the cunning man, and a soldier was next dragged before him. " Now," cried the crowd, " tell us something about this rascal. Who is he ? What is he ? and what is lie going to do? " Quello ? quello e soldato," answered the blinded conjuror, with alacrity, " but he spends his pay as fast as he gets it ; we won't say exactly how, but you can judge for yourselves, for I tell no tales of any one. You have only to look in his pockets, and the most you will find in coin is two bajocchi ; but look a little further, and there will be a pair of dice and a screw of tobacco, also a short pipe and a match or two." As' might be expected, the second subject was searched after the manner of the first, with rude handling and uproarious mirth, as, one after another, the objects mentioned were extracted and exhibited. One might have spent another hour there with amusement, for the descriptions, which were all accurate, were also exceeding droll. In the midst of it I noticed in the crowd an honest-looking peasant- woman, carrying a basket of provisions, and no doubt on her way from market. She observed all the proceedings with the most rapt attention ; then, looking round, absorbed, she partly soliloquized and partly addressed herself to me, with a dubious shake of the head as she retreated "No, no" she muttered, " Questo non vale ; non c cosa buona ; dev' esser del diavolo , . . sicuro, non e cosa buona ! " THE BERLIN CONFERENCE. 175 It seems as if there should be no need to record the details The Berlin of an event so remarkable and so recent as Lord Beaconsfield's return from the Berlin Conference, on the 18th of July, 1878. And yet, as a sight to have seen, and a memory to be retained, it is impossible to pass over in silence so interesting and impressive a political incident. The heart-stirring scene witnessed that day, with unanimous pride, by Englishmen of all classes, all creeds, can never be forgotten while they live ; but it is fitting that those who shared in it should do their utmost to record the impression it made on themselves, and to transmit it to their children, and to such as were not spectators of this remarkable episode in the political history of Europe. The reception of Lord Beaconsfi eld and Lord Salisbury on their arrival at Charing Cross was a welcome absolutely unique of its kind ; as was remarked at the time, the cheers which greeted the Prime Minister on his triumphant return glorified with the prestige of his success, had nothing in common with the shouts that meet an ordinary traveller, be he ever so Royal. The cries of the assembled thousands were the genuine and spontaneous expression of a feeling, the intensity of which seemed to communicate itself to those to whom it was addressed. There seemed to be but one heart beating in that vast multitude, and the effect was overpowering, when, to the buzz of voices, of traffic, of move- ment, suddenly succeeded an awed hush a so-to-speak startling silence, as the sound of far-off cheers gathering as they approached, announced the arrival of the eagerly- expected train ; then, as if by one spontaneous outburst, arose a roar of deafening and prolonged shouts, reinforced with a yet heartier and united cry of welcome as the carriage left the station and drove between the living hedges which lined the road. The day was bright, the carriage was an open one, and as it made its way through that dense crowd, the figure of the Premier was visible to all, his features, and the dignity of his 176 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. attitude betokening a noble and manly emotion as he grace- fully acknowledged the merited homage of the people, to whom he was bringing " Peace with honour." Lord Campbell was often right in his estimate of character, and could detect latent ability with much shrewdness. In 1851 he wrote : " Disraeli is the rising man. A few years ago he was an attorney's clerk ; * now he is the leader of the landed interest, and, for anything I know, the Jew boy may cut out the heir of the Stanleys, and perhaps even, one day, be Prime Minister himself, on high Tory and Protectionist principles, after having been a violent radical, and having boxed the political compass round and round. He is the pleasantest speaker to listen to, now living, and becomes rather a favourite with the House." One cannot help regretting that Lord Campbell did not live to see Disraeli become Lord Beaconsfield, and to witness the zenith of his glory. Lord Beaconsfield's is a case in which Lord Campbell's opinion shows considerable depth of observation and pene- tration ; for, to the cominun des mortels who knew young Disraeli, the wise saw of Archilochus apxh avBpa Se/^et would have appeared to be at fault ; few would have ventured to predict notwithstanding that startling peroration to his maiden speech, which must have come back later to the memory of so many that the be-ringed, be-ringletted, be- chained, and generally bedizened youth who produced him- self at Gore House in green velvet pantaloons and a waist- coat the embroideiy on which surpassed in richness that of d'Orsay himself would, during his later years, command the respect and attention of the world by the calm self- possession and the dignity with which he maintained his principles and upheld the honour of his office. Part of Benjamin Disraeli's early years were passed at a * This is incorrect, joung Disraeli was apprenticed, not articled, to an attorney ; his father wishing him to acquire a practical initiation into that business. LORD BEACONSFIELD'S BAPTISM. 177 boarding-school at Walthamstow, where a first-cousin of my own had been temporarily placed. From him I used to hear that the boy, who was subsequently to become so urbane and courtier-like, was at that time such an overbearing little prig that he made himself most unpopular with his school- fellows, and naturally became their butt, every kind of schoolboy trick being played off on him. One, of which my cousin confessed himself the inventor, though repre- hensible in common with all practical jokes, had the merit of ingenuity. It seems that the young man, even in these early days, gave indications of the foppishness of his middle life, and used, on occasion, to appear in gay-coloured pantaloons, with Hessian boots. Accordingly, just before he donned them one day, some cobbler's wax was neatly plastered over the inner soles of the latter, and when the time came for removing them, the other boys found a fine opportunity for taunting the struggling wearer with his vanity, and sug- gesting that it would be a great pity ever to take them off. Disraeli seems to have been brought up, to the age of twelve, without any definite religious ideas, nor did he, or perhaps even his father, know, under what denomination he could be classed : his father appears to have belonged to a Jittle sect of his own, being neither a Jew nor a Christian. Literary tastes brought together the elder Disraeli and Rogers, and the latter (though by no means straight-laced in the matter of morality, notwithstanding that his poetry is so pure) not only suggested that young Benjamin should be baptized, but got the ceremony performed, and stood god- father to him. The deed was done at St. Andrew's, Hol- 'born, on the 31st of July, 1817. The entry may be seen in the parish register, where he is stated to have been then twelve years of age, and "the son of Isaac Disraeli and Maria Basevi." A Mrs. Ellis was his godmother. .VOL. I. 13 SOCIAL AND LITERARY CELEBRITIES. " "Tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses, Instead of speech, may form a lasting link Of ages ; to what straits old Time reduces Frail man, when paper e'en a rag like this, Survives himself, his tomb, and all that's his ! And when his hones are dust, his grave, a blank, His station, generation, e'en his nation, Become a thing, or no thing save to rank In chronological commemoration ; Some dull MS., oblivion long has sank, Or graven stone found in a barrack's station, In digging the foundation of a closet, May turn his name up, as a rare deposit." " DON JUAN. " Sandford and Merton.' CHAPTER III. SOCIAL AND LITERABY CELEBRITIES. "... the kings "Whose hosts are thoughts, whose realm the human mind, "Who out of words evoke the souls of things, And shape the lofty drama of mankind." BOLWEB. " Hactenus annorum comites elementa meornm Et memini et merninisse juvat." STATIUS. AMONG authors of the early part of the century there is Thomas Day, scarcely an individual whose life presents a series of a more interesting and picturesque incidents than that of Thomas Day, the author of Sandford and Merton. Though before my time, I have heard so much of this strange individual from my old friend, Mrs. Win. Gibbons (Maria Edge worth's niece), that I seem almost to have known him. Day was a most eccentric character, but all his eccentri- cities were amiable and practically philanthropic ; if an ex- emplification of absolute " altruism " w r ere wanted, no better instance of it could be pointed out. Day was the intimate friend of Maria Edgeworth's father, Eichard Lovell Edgeworth, who not only entertained for him the warmest friendship, but declared him to be the most perfect human being who ever lived. Though Day had a handsome face, his figure did not correspond with it ; he walked badly, held himself worse, and was altogether unprepossessing in appearance. He had idiosyncratic ideas about women, especially as wives, and after an early disappointment, finding none conformable to his notions, set himself to the delusive task of forming one to his own liking. With this view he went to Shrews- 182 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. bury the name does not suggest it as a good place to find a wife ; but let that pass from an orphanage there, he selected a young girl, whom he judged fit to be ex- perimented on. But, as he was a man of resources, in order to have two strings to his bow, he also picked out another in a London pauper institution. One was fair, the other dark, their ages the same about ten years old. One he called Sabrina Sydney (after Algernon Sydney), the other, Lucretia. These two children he pro- ceeded to bring up together. He travelled with them, took THOMAS DAT. them to Lyons, where he spent a great deal of money, judi- ciously as well as liberally, in assisting the needy. Thence he went to Avignon, where he thought to settle, and carry on the education of the children. But they proved more troublesome than he expected; they quarrelled together, and also set themselves against learning even the French language, so that the task he had set himself proved a diffi- cult one. As he could not marry both, his intention was to choose the one who lent herself the more readily to his plans of education, and to provide for the other. After nursing THOMAS DAY. 183 them through the measles, and saving their lives when upset in a boat on the river, he was fain to confess to himself the improbability of reaping any reward from his labours. Lucretia turned out so hopelessly untrainable that he had to give her up, but put her to school at Avignon, where he left her, afterwards apprenticing her to a milliner, and ultimately portioning and marrying her to a French hosier. Having returned to England with Sabrina, he began upon her a course of practical experiments, destined to discover and prove her suitability for the life he intended his wife should lead. To ascertain whether she was possessed of courage, fortitude, and philosophical indifference to suffering, he dropped hot sealing-wax on her arms, fired off pistols suddenly in her hearing, woke her up in the middle of the night, and in short, invented the most ingenious tricks to arrive at the real value of her character. Unfortunately she was not made of the stuff required for accepting this kind of treatment, against which she finally rebelled so violently that he had no choice but to abandon his benevolent designs upon her, and she too was packed off to a boarding-school. A friend of Day's, Dr. Bicknell, who used to frequent his house, fell in love with her, and Day, who always behaved handsomely, portioned her off, as he had his other adopted child, and she married his friend, to whom she made a very good wife. After Bicknell's death, Sabrina was engaged as housekeeper, or matron, at Dr. Barney's well-known school at Groom's Hill, where she mothered the boys with conscientious care, and became a great favourite with them and their parents. Meantime, Day, who was bent on matrimony notwith- standing these and other failures, and found he could not enter that holy state on his own terms, made the acquaintance of the two beautiful Misses Sneyd Honora and Elizabeth. My friend, Mrs. Gibbons, has two rare and finely executed Wedgwood portraits of these two girls. Day did his best to win Honora, who, however, treated him with utter disdain. 184 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. He then transferred his addresses to Elizabeth, but does not seem to have understood the full meaning of the rebuff with which she dismissed him to mend his manners and appear- ance, and taking her at the foot of the letter, set off for Paris, where he underwent a severe physical training and drilling, learnt fencing and dancing, and came back quite trim, expecting to be rewarded for his devotedness. Alas 1 Elizabeth was as saucy as her sister ; she remained obdu- rate, tossing her pretty head, and cruelly telling him with a contemptuous laugh, that " she thought, on the whole, the blackguard was less objectionable than the fine gentleman.'" Day must have had considerable elasticity of feeling, for,, after a time spent wholly in philanthropic works, and the practice of the severest self-denial he met with another lady, by name Esther Mimes, who became so devotedly attached to him, that after two years' acquaintance, she not only married him, but consented to share his self-imposed privations, and to join in carrying out his abnormal ideas. His plan was to live in the simplest way, entirely sequestered from society, to allow himself and his wife! no luxuries, and to dispense entirely with servants : in this he behaved better than Carlyle, for if the latter made his wife supplement the labours of their single domestic, the former, at all events, shared with his, the household work. If there was any rare question as to spending more money than usual, Day came down with his veto, " How can we allow ourselves luxuries," he would say, " when we know how many people are starving?'* He bought an unfinished house at Abridge, in Essex, and astonished the builder he employed to complete it, by making him construct the walls first, and then knock out the window openings. Here, he and his wife made themselves the friends and benefactors of the needy, taking great pains to bestow their bounty where they had made sure it ought to be given. The affection of Day's wife for this strange husband was boundless, and she never recovered from the grief occasioned her by his death. His mother, or rather step-mother, was. THOMAS DAY. 185 still living, and at no great distance, and Day frequently visited her. One day, he started to ride over to see her, mounting an unbroken colt in conformity with his theory that it was contrary to nature to break in a horse and great was the shock experienced by his wife, when, some hours after he had left her, the horse returned without him. Search was at once made, and his body was found quite dead beside the road. Mrs. Day took her loss so sincerely to heart that she declared she would never again see the light, and, like Queen Louise de Vaudemont, shut herself up in a darkened room, where she died two years after, in 1791. Day was well known to the last, if not to the rising,, generation of schoolboys, by his popular Sandford and Merton. J. J. Eousseau had, about that time, turned, one way or the other, the heads of all educationists by his Emile et Sophie, and so great was Kichard Edgeworth's admiration for his system, that he brought up his eldest son on the principles there advocated ; the practical result cannot be considered in this case to have proved encouraging. Day's illustrative story was originally intended to be a part of Maria Edgeworth's Harry and Lucy Series, but it grew to the dimensions of a separate work, and he published it independently. The detail of this singular man's life w r ould fill a volume, and the phases of his character are all so original, and some so justifiable, that they form a by no means uninteresting study. He was remarkable for justice and humanity, and a merciful consideration for animals ; nor would he allow an insect to be killed unnecessarily. Sir William Jones was among his admirers and friends. One day, when they were breakfasting together, a spider suddenly appeared on the table. u Kill that spider ! kill that spider ! " said Sir William. "No," said Day, "I shouldn't feel justified in killing a harmless insect. A lawyer is much more objectionable than a spider, yet you wouldn't like to hear any one call out, ' Kill that Sir William Jones ! kill that Sir William Jones ! '" 186 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Day, who had much common sense, wrote several political pamphlets ; among other public, also national, errors, he denounced the inconsistency of the Americans in blowing the trumpet of freedom, and boasting of their independence, while practically encouraging the servitude of a whole race, and enriching themselves by slave labour. ^J ^ ner used to tell amusing stories of a tour he made Twiss,'< The m the North of England with Eichard Twiss, known as " The Traveller." Traveller," though it does not appear that, besides a trip to Ireland, he carried his steps anywhither but to Spain and Portugal. Still, as he lived rather before the days when the " grand tour" was considered an essential item in every gentleman's education, this modicum, which seems so meagre, now that every butterman has been " personally conducted " round the world, apparently sufficed to entitle him to the dis- tinction of a " traveller. ' ' Moreover, he published his travels ; though the history of one of his journeys, that in Ireland, was not so successful a volume as the others. Eichard Twiss was a wit and a scholar, and he had a way of telling stories and making jokes which was found very amusing in society. But he was an original, and set conventionality and the world at defiance, doing whatever it pleased him to do, and in a way of his own, which was generally very unlike the ways of the majority. His travels in Spain, which he published, were very interesting, for he observed much, and described cleverly. This volume was illustrated, and contained one plate of such great merit, descriptive of a bull-fight, that numbers of copies sold chiefly on its account. Ultimately the book became very scarce. Eichard Twiss was the elder son of a wealthy Dutch merchant ; his younger brother's name was Francis, and though also eccentric, he was much the more amiable of the two. Eichard was a practised chess-player, and like Philidor, could play two or three games at once ; but that also has ceased to be a feat. He and my father constantly played together, and Twiss's book on chess was long a JAMES AND HORACE SMITH. 187 recognized authority on the game. Twiss was one of Dr. Kitchiner's intimates, and his gifts as a raconteur were appreciated at the doctor's recherches dinner and supper parties, which should properly have been styled conversazione- banquets. Among my father's literary friends of this period were James and James and Horace Smith, and I remember, when a child, smith 6 being taken to the house of the latter at Brighton, I think in Cavendish Place. This visit would probably have by this time escaped my memory had it not been for the curious conversation that passed on the occasion. The subject of it was one of those historical puzzles which give rise to so much controversy, and although they occasionally seem to approach a solution, always remain equally distant there- from. This was the mystery as to the veritable burial-place of Oliver Cromwell, and the authenticity of the head, supposed to be his, which under that idea, was, after the Kestoration, torn from the coffin and spiked, along with those of Ireton and Bradshaw, over the gates of Westminster Hall, making that spot for a time the " Golgotha of Westminster," the rest of their bones were ignominiously shovelled into a pit dug for their reception under the gallows at Tyburn. Horace Smith, I remember, altogether repudiated the theory that the coffin attributed to Cromwell had contained a corpse belonging to somebody else, and maintained his belief that a head then in the possession of a friend of his a surgeon was no other than the caput mortuum of the regicide. He gave entire credence to the story of its having been blown down one night during a storm, rescued by the sentinel at Westminster Hall gate, and, notwith- standing the risk of committing a doubly capital offence, made capital of by that functionary, who sold it to some near relatives of Cromwell's. From these purchasers, the head whether Cromwell's or not having been religiously preserved, descended to an old 188 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. lady, who, not caring to keep the unsavoury relic in her house, was glad to part with it to the medical bidder, in whose keeping Horace Smith had seen and examined it, declaring himself perfectly satisfied as to its identity. It is not, I believe, unusual for the beard to continue to grow after death, and that had been the case with this party, whose beard was of a chestnut shade, as was that of Crom- well. However, Cromwell's face was so distinctly marked by a large wart on the forehead that there need have been no doubt about the matter. An authentic portrait of the "Protector," now in the possession of Madame Parkes- Belloc, defines this peculiarity very distinctly. There are many who believe, on historical evidence of their own searching out, that Cromwell left a Will, de- signating the spot in which he desired to be interred, and deprecating his burial within Westminster Abbey ; and these maintain the theory that a substitute, who probably was not consulted, w r as found to personate Cromwell's corpse, and to fill the coffin supposed by the general public to protect the remains of the "Protector." Some say that Cromwell was temporarily interred beneath the spot w 7 here now stands, a dovecote in Red Lion Square. Both the brothers Smith resided frequently in Brighton, but Horace ultimately chose Versailles as his dwelling- place. James Smith used to quote the amusing remark of a country-parson who had read The Rejected Addresses, to the effect that " He did not see why they, should have been rejected ; in fact, he thought some of them very good ! " The two Smiths w r ere remarkable for the pungency and spontaneity of their dry humour. Kenny used to say that James Smith w r as fond of chaffing Tom Hill, asserted by some to be the original taken by Poole for his Paul Pry* He was wont to affirm of Tom Hill, that " if you could but * Michael Angelo Taylor, who had a very similar reputation, has been said by others to have served as the model of this popular character. LITERARY SALON OF HORACE SMITH'S DAUGHTERS. 189 go and stand beside ' Tom ' some day at Charing Cross, he would tell you the pedigree and history of every individual who passed; " adding, perhaps not without reason, " It was wonderful how much better acquainted Hill was, with every one else's business than he was with his own." Horace Smith's two daughters are still living, and in Brighton. Their very pleasant house is frequented by the best and most interesting kind of society, affording what may be called a salon, that rare relic of ancient literary taste and cementer of literary intimacies a salon which the cultivated consider it a privilege to frequent and where these ladies receive with a grace and geniality which their guests know how to appreciate. It is much to be regretted that gatherings of this description seem to be becoming rarer every year ; for, as death disturbs them, society seems to lack the spirit, or the good taste, or the ability to replace them. Two other ladies, sisters, whom I knew, the Misses Weston (descendants of an old Cheshire family), received also in this way, when in London ; gathering round them a genial and interesting circle of more or less literary friends. Crabb Robinson, who mentions their house occasionally in his diary, was a welcome frequenter of their reunions. To myself it was always a pleasure to find him there, and I think it was somewhat unfairly that he acquired the reputa- tion of being " a great talker." When a man has something to say and says it well, few can object to him as a " talker," and for my own part I am always content under such cir- cumstances to be the listener. Crabb Robinson could talk round about almost every subject worth considering, and generally very much to the purpose ; in the company, there- fore, of this genial and observant old gentleman, who had seen much of life, the commun des mortels had more to learn than to impart. He had known many people worth knowing, and enjoyed the intimacy of most of the celebrities of his day ; and, though modest in the expression of his 190 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. opinion, he was 110 mean authority on matters within most departments of art ; painters of note had invited him to their studios, and he was a much finer connoisseur than he was willing to admit : of music he professed to know but little, yet, being a man of cultivated tastes, it was only good music that pleased him, so that his appreciations of vocal and instrumental artists were generally accurate and sugges- tive. I often found him enthusiastic when speaking of fine voices and real musical genius, while of dramatic excellence he was a genuine admirer and a trustworthy judge, without any pretensions to professional criticism. Crabb Kobinson's admiration of Braham was as intense as it was just, and on this subject we were in perfect accord. As to his acting, Mr. Eobinson differed essentially in opinion from Sir Walter Scott, and he was so carried away by the charm, of that impassioned singer's wonderful voice and his histrionic employment of it, that he used to declare that when Braham sang, he acted without an effort, and as if unconsciously impelled by the feeling he threw into the music. He was once, he told me, immensely amused by a song of Liston's, in which that king of mimics took off Braham; this must have been worth hearing. Crabb Eobin- son agreed with me that even when Braham's exquisite voice had undergone the withering effects of age, his singing still .retained its inexplicable but undeniable fascination. He was an equally hearty admirer of Malibran, whom he had heard in 1833, when that matchless artist was in her prime, and he spoke rapturously of the perfection of her singing and acting in the Sonnambula at Drury Lane, which I also well remembered. Crabb Eobinson was fond of philosophical and metaphysical discussions, and appeared to have read and thought more or less deeply on the subject of religious belief. His reflections had apparently brought him to that state of mind which at the present time we should describe as " agnosticism." I remember once, during a discussion on the probabilities of a CBABB BOBINSON. 191 future state, his winding up with the remark, " If there's not another world, this one's a miserable failure." I am pretty sure it was from Crabb Eobinson that Miss Weston told me she heard the curious story of Judge Buller's supposed death, from, I think, small-pox. At all events it was some dangerous epidemic, and it was to the fear of contagion, that was attributed the unseemly haste with which he was not only laid out, but put into his coffin. The Judge was engaged to be married to a young lady who, living away from the metropolis, was immediately communicated with, being informed at the same time that the funeral could not be delayed. She started at once for London, asserting her conviction that her fiance was not dead. On her arrival she lost not a moment in having him replaced in a warm bed and in applying restoratives. No means were left untried, and, strange as it may seem, her prognostics were justified, and the Judge showed signs of life. He ultimately recovered completely, and the pair were united and "lived happy ever after." Crabb Robinson's affection for Charles and Mary Lamb and his admiration for Wordsworth seemed almost ex- aggerated. His friendship for the two former led his steps very frequently to the homely little dwelling at Edmonton, then called " Bay Cottage," where the brother and sister lived together whenever the latter needed not the restraints of her alternative home, and he continued throughout their respective lives the sincere and attached friend of both. This unpretending little tenement is still to be seen in Church Street, Edmonton, and is now inscribed LAMB'S COTTAGE instead of Bay Cottage as in the time of the Larnbs. A small square garden divides it from the road, and it is almost crushed out of notice by the two taller houses which stand one on each side of it, while the trees from their gardens cast a perpetual shadow over it, and give it an expression of sadness in accordance with its melancholy traditions. 192 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Only a few hundred yards further on, within the pic- turesque old churchyard, is the humble grave in which are now reunited the remains of this attached brother and sister. It is not very easy to find it, so closely built round is it with more pretentious monuments ; it is now rather better cared for than formerly, for I have seen the headstone that bears the record of the two burials (ten years apart) so moss-grown that " Carey's pompous incoherent epitaph " well-meaning, perhaps, but certainly un-meaning could scarcely be deciphered. Lamb has left a character deserving of all admiration. He willingly, cheerfully, and most unostentatiously, made the sacrifice of his life to domestic duty ; his heroism was none the less brave that it was not his lot to display it in a conspicuous field of glory, and much honour should be accorded to him for the simplicity and fidelity with which he followed out a noble course. As to his literary and intellectual merits, there may, I think, be two opinions, and it may be permitted to doubt whether, now they are judged by comparison with later work of the same character, they have not been somewhat over-rated, and especially whether his humour is such as to deserve the unbounded encomiums it has sometimes evoked ; many of his jokes, it must be admitted, were much tires par les cheveux : the wonder, how- ever, is that leading such a life as his, he should have been able to joke at all ! Wordsworth. Crabb Eobinson's admiration for Wordsworth was nothing short of enthusiastic. He went so far as to carry about in his pocket, a volume of this gentleman's works, and on the slightest, and most unintentional, provocation, he would draw it out, open it, and pour into often unwilling ears, streams of the " Lake poet's " watery effusions. He read well, and being desirous to induce others to share his own sentiments on the subject, he made the most of his material; but, once the floodgates were open, the torrent rolled headlong on, everything giving way before it. SAMUEL ROGERS. 193 Crabb Eobinson liked to believe that "in his heart," Byron admired Wordsworth ; if so, he took a strange way to show it. It is possible that his criticisms were not really intended to be so withering as they appear, but we can quite understand that he was unwilling to retract them, because they were so happily expressed ; perhaps, therefore, it was not altogether to an unrelenting antipathy against the object of them that the world owes the en- joyment of those pungent remarks which sparkle ever and anon through some of the poet's pages. Grabb Kobinson, as correspondent of The Times, in Spain, and also subsequently, missed no opportunity of showing up the littleness of Napoleon's insatiable ambition : this was a source of great annoyance to the Imperial adventurer, who, according to the assertions of the object of his displeasure, " set a price upon his head." Mr. Robinson was on terms of intimacy with the Banker- Samuel poet, Samuel Rogers, and was a frequent guest at those famous breakfasts in St. James's Place made so interesting by their refined and hospitable organizer : and who was there who did not appreciate them ? Several tried to imitate these gatherings, but they always remained un- rivalled. There seems to be a tacit understanding among the biographers and memorializers of Samuel Rogers that he is to descend to posterity like so many others as " a man of marked individuality ; " no one seems to have remarked the peculiarity of Samuel Rogers as " a man of marked duality " There were in Rogers two distinct natures nay, more than distinct ; they might be called opposite the practical and the poetical natures went on in him at the same time, balancing each other so happily that the one never wronged the other. Rogers was essentially a man of business, but double d'un poete, and for myself I have never been able to agree with those who fail to see culture, grace, and imagination in his pages perhaps not throughout them. Still, it seems VOL. I. 14 194 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. impossible for a candid and unprejudiced reader of Rogers's works, especially perhaps his Italy, not to be struck as well as caught by the many poetical fancies which gleam through his pages like the sunshine that mottles a shaded path. Surely, too, in his Pleasures of Memory, there are thoughts which please us, touch us, and make us think, and we ask ourselves with admiration what manner of man this was. who could so flexibly turn from the matter-of-fact to the romantic ; one moment buried in accounts, perhaps even in tracing one of those head-breaking errors which diabolically persist in bewitching a balance ; the next, decoyed into- sweet converse with what Petrarch was wont to call his " silent companions," books of quite another stamp, yet finding himself equally at home with both. I met Kogers in Paris with my father, and we visited the Catacombs, beneath that city, in his company. The- trap-door by which the party reascended into the living world was the one in the Church of the Val cle Grace : it so happened that Rogers was the last to come up as the Suisse who held open the grille through which we were to pass, perceived the colourless, fleshless face, and denuded skull of the poet advancing from the gloom, he- motioned him back, saying " Nay, nay, assuredly monsieur belongs down below ! " But Rogers must have been accustomed to such jokes,, which we know were freely administered by Sheridan f Sydney Smith, and others of his friends. However rich in incident Rogers's life may have been, it was so mixed up with those of contemporary celebrities, that (to say nothing of the exhaustive memoirs, mono- graphs, and biographies of which he has been the subject) he has been introduced again and again in those of others till there seems nothing left unrecorded : yet I do not think I have ever seen the following in print, though Rogers used to relate it. He was one day visiting a lady whom he found recovering THE MARCHIONESS OF SALISBURY. 195 from a nervous shock received two or three days previously : he did not say she was a weak-minded woman, but probably thought so, all the same. It appeared she was taking a drive in an open carriage along the Fulham Eoad, when her footman seated behind, observing that then rare novelty, an omnibus, approaching, leaned over, and kindly wishing to treat his mistress to the sight, exclaimed " The Hoinbli- bus, my Lady ! the Homblibus ! " The lady, startled by the earnestness of the sudden appeal, and unfamiliar with even the name of the curious object now so common in our vernacular, took it into her head it must be some dangerous wild beast escaped from a travelling menagerie, and after uttering the conventional scream, con- ventionally fainted, this proceeding being in accord with those of the heroines of the novels of that day on which young ladies' minds were fed and by which their manners were formed. Rogers was at Hatfield House on the very day of the The Marchioness melancholy incident by which the venerable and venerated of Salisbury. Marchioness of Salisbury lost her life. A great portion of this ancient historical house was destroyed. The poet had been staying there some days, and though pressed to pro- long his visit, had been obliged to come up to town on the Sunday afternoon, and took leave without any idea of the catastrophe then imminent. Lady Salisbury was aged and infirm, but though her hearing was so indifferent that she often took a book when in company, her eyesight remained excellent, and she could read without glasses ; she was, however, near-sighted, and was in the habit of stooping over, when reading or writing. On the fatal Sunday she had dressed for dinner earlier than on week-days, to liberate her maid, whom she desired, before leaving the room, to put on the table, a flat candle- stick in addition to the pair of tall ones already there, as she meant to write some letters before dinner. The true origin of the disaster will never be known, but it must be 196 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. supposed that Lady Salisbury's lace head-dress caught fire at the flame of the supplementary candle. The fire was not discovered till it had made considerable progress, and though Lord Salisbury rushed to his mother's room the moment he ascertained its whereabouts, there was an unfortunate loss of time owing to that door being fastened on the inside and his having to go round some way, to reach the other. It was only after the fire was extinguished that her remains were found, and so completely charred that her rings were hanging on the fleshless finger-bones. For over half a century Lady Salisbury had been recog- nized as the social rallying-centre of all that was most distinguished, whether for birth, fashion, or wit : she was a splendid rider and sportswoman, and no other of her sex could approach her in horsewomanship. It was only a few years before her death that she gave up field sports, and great was the regret expressed by all those who had de- lighted in having her among them to share the pleasures of the chase ; the secret of their admiration probably consisted in that, while pursuing a masculine sport, she never lost or infringed upon the characteristics of her sex, always remain- ing essentially delicate, refined, and feminine. A writer of the time, much about the Court, tells us that " there never was, perhaps, a more highly-bred woman, or one whose courtesy to persons of all ranks better proved the greatness of her own." There is, at Hatfield, a beautiful full-length portrait of this unfortunate lady catalogued as " Emily Mary, Countess of .Salisbury," * painted, probably just after her marriage, by Sir Joshua. It is dated December 8, 1781, and represents a tall, elegant young woman, wearing the fashionable cos- tume of the day, in a standing position drawing on a long glove, while a small spaniel is toying with the end of her lace scarf. The picture has a pathetic interest for those who, like * The marquisate was not created till 1789. SAMUEL ROGERS. 197 myself, are able to remember her awful death, and can see her represented there in all the pride of youth, rank, and beauty, with no suspicion of the fate that was before her. Rogers was the possessor of one of the four 1,000,000 notes struck, as a curiosity, at the Bank of England, and, of course, not intended for circulation ; of the other three, one went to George IV., and is in the Windsor Library, one to N. M. Rothschild, and the third remains at the Bank, where I saw it when these particulars were told me. An anecdote of Rogers, w r hich I have not seen in any of his memoirs, relates that, not being familiar with all the bizarre detail of Court ceremonial, he one day so far sinned against royal etiquette as to reply to William IY. who graciously saluted him wdth " How d'ye do, Mr. Rogers ? " " Pretty well, Sire, and I hope your Majesty is quite well also." The King became red and confused, but contented him- self with smiling, and said nothing. The sovereign's health is, or then was, a matter not to be alluded to, in any way, at Court. This was a rule strictly observed at Versailles under Louis XIV. Rogers, among other scraps of Court news, once asserted that Queen Caroline could speak only one word of English. Probably there was a time when she could not speak even that one ; for she never spoke English decently, and her cursing and swearing in broken English made her very ridiculous. However, the statement led to an amusing discussion as to what one word would be the most useful if any lady could command no more. Some were of opinion it should be " Yes," while others were for "No " ; but Lady Charlotte Lindsay shrewdly remarked that she should give the preference to " No " ; because though " Yes " often meant "No," a lady's " No " never meant " Yes." Queen Caroline must have learnt a good deal more English than Rogers gave her credit for by the time the 198 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. coronation took place ; for, on that occasion, she contrived to charge with disloyalty to their Queen, the sentinels who opposed her entrance into the Abbey by barring her passage with crossed bayonets. However, had they relaxed their resistance, the Queen would still not have entered. I was told by the Eev. W. Jenkins, rector of Fillingham, that his uncle was at that time page to Lord Gwydyr, who was sta- tioned at the opposite extremity of the Abbey, when he was told of the arrival of the Queen and of her altercation with the sentinels ; he immediately sent this page to assist, from within, in preventing her entrance. The latter ran with such speed the whole length of the building, that he arrived just in time to close the doors in Her Majesty's face ; as she was already barred out by the sentinels, this undignified episode in a great ceremonial, disgraced by an utterly need- less insult to the Queen, could only be deplored by all concerned in it. Macauiay. All the memoirs of the time agree as to the crushing effect of Macauiay 's presence on Eogers, who felt himself "nowhere " as long as the brilliant, ceaseless, and unstem- mable gush of that rich and unfathomable knowledge poured torrent-like into the tide of conversation, and, as it were, swept it away. Even Eogers, while irritated beyond measure, was forced to listen and to admire. Macauiay 's memory was phenomenal, and retained apparently everything that had ever been impressed on it ; for the scope of his knowledge seemed to recognize no limits, and it was impossible to touch upon any subject, however lofty on the one hand, or however trifling on the other, in which he did not immediately prove himself at home. If by a rare chance he was not acquainted with every detail, he talked so well, so readily, and so agreeably, that no one discovered where his actual knowledge of the matter ended, and where, whence, or how, he supplemented it. All the talkers of the day were literally dumbfoundered before him. Sydney Smith said many smart things of him ; all, more MACAULAY WHEWELL. 199 or less marked by his good-natured satire ; the best, perhaps, testifying to the "improvement of his manners since he returned from America," as shown by his " brilliant flashes of silence." Lord Melbourne, remarking on Macaulay's conversational aplomb, said he "wished he were as sure of any one thing as Macaulay was of everything;" but Macaulay himself gracefully (whether sincerely or not we do not know) ad- mitted that, though lie always had his knowledge at hand, Whewell and Brougham really possessed more universal knowledge than he. Whe well's fame for universality was European, and went Professor so long undisputed, that he at last joined, (conscientiously) in the belief in himself. Dissentient voices on the subject were scarcely heeded, though Sydney Smith had some grounds for saying that " Omniloquence was his forte, and omniscience his foible." Men of high pretensions will, necessarily, always find some who dispute their supremacy ; accordingly we find Sir David Brewster showing up in merciless terms, WhewelTs want of " omniscience " in his History of the Inductive Sciences, and proclaiming him, "to his own astonishment and disappointment," merely a clever book-maker, but without either knowledge of his subject or the patient industry of a " compiler." He declares that, although Whewell had undertaken to write upon a profound and complicated sub- ject, he displayed throughout it his utter inadequacy for the task. " He was," says Brewster, " ignorant of the optical discoveries made by Ptolemy, though a MS. of Ptolemy's optics is in the Bodleian, and papers on it have been published in the Edinburgh Encyclopedia," and it had been commented on by Brewster himself in his report on " Optics " for the British Association. Ignorant, also, he declared Whewell to be of Snellius's Law of Refraction and Huygens's account of it, though he cites the book ; ignorant, , of the magnificent experiments by the French Insti- 200 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. tute on the Force of Beams ; and he asserts that, at best, his work is one of great pretensions and no real learning, nor is it written in a good tone of feeling. Brewster's comments were, however, taken up by Lord Jeffreys, who while admitting shortcomings and assump- tion on the part of Whewell which, he says, merit castiga- tion, pronounces these comments " too personal and bitter " ; and he sharply criticises the critic, contending also that the metaphysical part of Brewster's review is neither clear, nor deep, nor thoroughly sound. He says, further, that, " if Whewell had but the sense to close his ears to the words of friends who flatter him, he would profit ; but," he adds, " though there is much of real value in him, he makes sad work of himself." Jeffreys also gives personal in- stances of Whewell's flippancy, superficiality, and self- consciousness, especially on law, while Macaulay, though no admirer of Whewell, condemns Brewster's criticism r which, he says, savours of animosity a feeling which should never interfere with the judgment of a critic. Buckle. Buckle w r as another example of these brilliant talkers, I remember once meeting him and Cardinal Wiseman at the same table, and the Cardinal's relating to me after dinner, as of recent occurrence, the now well-known incident of Buckle's discomfiture, when, having been privately chal- lenged to puzzle the great and admired Master of Trinity, he disastrously pitched upon what he thought the abstruse subject of the history of Chinese music. A story used to be told of Whewell illustrative of the trans- cendent opinion he in common with all Trinity men held of their superiority to men belonging to the rest of the Univer- sity, an opinion which he is supposed to have shared in a very eminent degree. It was said that he added the following clause to be used in the bidding prayer by all parsons hail- ing from Trinity College : " Pray we likewise for all ' small- college-men,' for they also are God's creatures." One of Crabb Eobinson's set (also, intimate with Dr. GEOKGE RAYMOND. 201 Kitchiner), and whom many of my readers will probably remember as a club-man, and much in literary and dramatic circles, was an excellent fellow named George George Raymond. As he was a favourite everywhere, he would probably have frequented general society much more had it not been for his devotedness to his mother, who was aged, infirm, and nearly blind, and whose greatest delight was to spend her evenings at chess. George Raymond was a University man and a scholar, and published one or two popular books, being well known by his Life of Elliston. He was rich enough to become, in a small way, a patron of art, artists, and authors, who w r ere very glad to meet each other and his non-professional friends, at his elegant bachelor-rooms in Charles Street, St. James's. George Raymond's face was handsome and intelligent, and his manner remarkably gentlemanly, not to say aristo- cratic ; the dignity of his bearing being the more striking that, according to report, his father was a hatter in Bond Street, and he had been adopted by one of his father's cus- tomers, who had taken a fancy to him when a child and left him all his fortune, having had him brought up with care and educated at Eton and Cambridge, requiring only that he should take his name. He was called to the bar, but did not practise, and became what may be called a " society man." He had a great deal of humour, and was very popular among his friends, being a good talker and an admired raconteur. His proclivities threw him much into dramatic society, and his delightful bachelor parties were generally sprinkled with first-class actors, such as the Keans, the Kembles, Macready, Phelps, and others. The Chalons, George Cruikshank, and other men of artistic genius were also to be found there ; and as he was no- mean musical connoisseur, his conversaziones were fre- quented also by the stars of that profession. Cruikshank illustrated Raymond's Life of Elliston with a willing pencil, and the book, still well known, had much 202 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. success ; it is written with the pen of a scholar. His mother lived to a great age, and it was only after her death, when himself somewhat advanced in life and in feeble health, that he went freely into society, where he was readily welcomed. There seems to have been always a certain charm in his manner ; for when a boy at Eton, the Queen singled him out, and when she drove through the town always recognized him, and would call him up to the carriage door and talk to him. As he grew older, his eyesight began to fail, and he resolved to give up entertaining, and to reside in a more retired neighbourhood. I remember the farewell dinner he gave, followed by a brilliant conversazione, at which Charles Kemble read "The Provoked Husband," Albert Smith seated himself at the piano and rattled away his "Galignani's Mes- senger," and Harley contributed " The Fine Old English Gentleman," and being encored, sang, out of compliment to our host, "He's a Jolly Good Fellow." All three of these artists died, as did also George Raymond within two years of this time ! When a Parisian bachelor winds up the w r ilder period of his existence with the sacramental words, " Je me range" these are usually interpreted to mean, " Je me marie." But this was not George Raymond's purpose ; and when he retired to steadiness and the solitude of Sloane Street, his intention was to endure his infirmities, and not to inflict them on another. An attached valet followed him thither ; but he soon found he could not get on without " a minister- ing angel," though he had quite resolved her form should not be angelic, and that her functions should be simply utilitarian. In fact, it was a " nurse " he needed, though on the whole he preferred to call her a " housekeeper." So he advertised for what he wanted, expressing himself rigidly, in unmistakable terms. Though undeniably growing old, George Raymond's youthful spirit was still strong in him, and I wish I could GEORGE RAYMOND. 203 remember, so as to be able to write them in detail, the descriptions he gave, when he came to dinner one day, of the more or less droll interviews which his advertisement produced. The list of answers was formidable ; I can liken it to nothing but Leporello's Catalogo. I warned him that his reputation might lose its character for propriety if he were to continue encouraging the pretensions of these fair creatures, and he admitted that he was afraid the purity of his intentions had not been fully appreciated. Among this amusing correspondence was a communica- tion from an aspirant, the originality of whose style showed she had not acquired her epistolary capabilities from The Complete Letter-writer ; its tone was diplomatically matronly and sedate, and he nattered himself as he read on, that he had at last discovered the exceptional treasure he was in quest of. He replied, begging the writer to call, and at the appointed hour she arrived with a modest ring at the bell. Blind as he was, however, poor George Eaymond soon found that his search was not yet at an end. The individual was at the dangerous age of about forty, with considerable pretensions to style, and by no means with- out personal charms, by no means therefore the plain, practical, working housekeeper of his hopes. Her eyes were far too brilliant, her complexion too blooming, her teeth too white, and her smile too bewitching, and the fact that her elegant figure was set off with a graceful deep mourning costume de jeune veuve, far too suggestive of her projects. George Kaymond's life-long antecedents had been too marked for their gallantry to leave him in embarrass- ment as to how to back gracefully out of such an entangle- ment with one of the sex. " Alas ! madam," said he, with the charm of his old manner, evoked by the occasion, "you are far too attractive to be buried alive in such a den of oblivion as that to which my failing health obliges me to condemn myself." " Oh, my dear sir," replied the fascinating creature, " you 204 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. are much too considerate. I am not so young as I perhaps seem ; I don't mind telling you, as it is a matter of business, I am not far from fifty." " Then," said he, "I must say without flattery, and with- out compliment, that you are the most youthful quinqua- genarian I have ever seen, and whatever your powers of persuasion may be, 7 should never get any one to believe that you are one." " Oh, but then, sir," she rejoined, "if you did but know how discreet I am ! " However, Eaymond was not to be seduced by the plausible talk of the "discreet" syren; and at last, instead of the pretty young widow of fabulous fifty, whose tete-a-tete society was honestly not within his ideas and intentions, he ended by taking a cook-housekeeper-nurse, all in one, and a man-servant husband and wife, with whom he got on extremely well, till the end (now not very far off) came, and then he dropped out of the circle, which continued to miss- his genial friendship as long as they survived. When ultimately, he had become nearly blind, it was melancholy to meet him groping his way about Suffolk Street and Pall Mall, hovering round his club with feeble steps, helped by a stick. Often have I found him there, jostled by the crowd and scarcely able to make his way, and when I have said cheerily, " Come, suppose we take a little stroll together," he would brighten up and gladly avail himself of my arm. Even then his conversation was most interesting, and these short walks were a real pleasure to myself, if not to him. Charles and Among the pleasant and distinguished habitues of George Raymond's classical rooms, were Charles and William Goding, of Hyde Park Place, both, but especially the latter, well known for their taste and skill in discover- ing and collecting articles of virtu. Their splendid col- lection of rare and valuable snuff boxes was exhibited in the "World's Fair " of 1851, and is now to be seen in the South Kensington Museum. Their eldest brother, THE GODING BROTHERS. 205 James Goding, married Lady Jane Coventry. He had a mania for collecting musical instruments, and although he had no notion of music, spent fabulous sums on this fancy. In this museum he once showed me a Stra- divarius which he considered himself "most fortunate" in securing at 300 ! His father-in-law, the Earl of Coventry and grandson of the beautiful Maria Gunning, was the victim of a singular accident, the result of his own rashness. For a wager he attempted to leap a five-barred gate, when his horse's hoof caught in the top bar, and the animal fell, throwing his rider on to a heap of broken flints ; he was picked up unconscious, and as he had fallen on his face, his eyes were so seriously injured that he remained blind during the remainder of his life. A man of mark, and always an acquisition in society from sir Francis his cheerful humour and ready wit, was Sir Francis Bond Head (nicknamed Sir Francis Wrong-head). He had led a very active, adventurous life, but an 8vo volume published by him in 1834, under the attractive title of Bubbles from the Brunnens of Nassau, brought the unknown author into immediate and favourable notice. It was widely circulated at the time, and is still read with pleasure. It started successfully under the mystery of an anonym, the author- ship being given out as that of " An Old Man." It was accepted as such by the general public, the probability being borne out by the bonhomie of the tone in which it is written. The moment was felicitous for fixing on such a subject ; the spas of Germany were just then coming into special repute ; fashionable M.D.'s (whose business it is to discover the proclivities of their patients, and then to pre- scribe a regime that will give scope to them) were despatching real or imaginary invalids in shoals to these resorts with what contingent advantages to themselves we will not take the trouble to inquire. It was enough for the author who selected this fertile subject for his theme, that the localities in question were acquiring a widespread reputation among 206 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. tourists, who were quite ready to believe it was absolutely necessary to their petite sante that they should spend their mornings at picnics in a beautiful country, and their even- ings in casinos, where dancing, feasting, and roulette served to vary their amusements. The " Old Man's " powers of observation were as keen as his descriptions were droll and picturesque, while his style was scholarly and attractive. His readers revelled in his accounts of localities already familiar to some, and immediately inspired others with the wish to visit them ; and they were so possessed with the con- viction that the local peculiarities and characters he described really existed as painted in his pages, that they were per- suaded they recognized them on the actual spot, when they reached it. Sir Francis employed rose-coloured ink in his sketches of the quaint and primitive country to which he introduced his readers, and they were quite willing to find everything as charming as he had represented it. Nassau felt the benefit of the good word he had spoken for it for a long time after, and owed its popularity as much to Sir Francis, as Cannes to Lord Brougham. The Bubbles (for the copyright of which the author re- ceived only 200) was decidedly Sir Francis's best literary effort, but his was a busily occupied life, and had been spent in far more serious work than in writing a humorous guide book. He was born in 1793, and was consequently about forty when he found time to indulge in this recrea- tive episode, both before and after which he filled official positions of importance, whether in Canada or in South America, and his pen was employed almost incessantl}* in descriptive accounts of his official work and of the state of the countries he visited ; he was also a continual contributor to the Quarterly. He was created a Baronet in 1836 in recognition of his services as Deputy - Governor in Canada, where his military training in the Royal En- gineers enabled him to examine the country, to ascertain SIR FRANCIS B. HEAD W. E. GLADSTONE. 207 its mineralogical conditions, and to report on its capabi- lities generally. The versatility of Head's powers was amazing ; nothing seemed to come amiss to him, and his energy was equally exhaustless. He settled down into private life with his wife and children at Duppas Hill, Croydon, where he died in 1875, aged eighty-two. Among Sir Francis's other social qualifications were his horsemanship and his proficiency as a sportsman, which he still manifested when nearly eighty. He rode with so much pluck and rapidity that he was called "Galloping Head." Sir Francis had an elder brother, who seems to have very captain sir much resembled him in character, and who also led a very George Head - roving life ; in both, spontaneity of humour and fertility of imagination were marked characteristics. Captain Head was knighted at the coronation of William IV. Like his brother, Sir George travelled in Canada, and his descriptive contributions written from that country, for the Quarterly , were heartily welcomed by its readers. Travelling on the Rhine in 1838, our party met and for some days joined Sir George, whom we found a delightful travelling companion. He was at that time suffering from an extinction de voix, the result of having been put into a damp bed at an hotel. On this same tour we also met an English party, con- Mr. w. E. sisting of two gentlemen and two ladies, the latter tall, Gladstone - stylish girls, who, with their cavaliers, were thoroughly enjoying this their first acquaintance with the Rhine scenery. One of the gentlemen was Sir Stephen Glynn, the ladies were his sisters, and the other gentleman was Mr. W. E. Gladstone, then a Grand Young Man, whose years, at that time under thirty, might be arrived at by revers- ing the figures representing those he now numbers. He was tall and dark, and his manner was marked, not only by a certain courtesy and elegance, but by that degree of reserve which (more especially in the pre-vulgarized-travelling days) 208 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. one was, and perhaps still is, accustomed to look for in an Englishman of the upper class. The elder of these ladies, shortly after, became Mrs. Gladstone. Andrew ^ ne ^ ^ ne mos ^ intelligent and profound scientists of his Crosse, the time, a man of earnest purpose and painstaking, conscien- Electncian. . re r o j tious research, was Andrew Crosse, the electrician, of Fyne Court, Broomefield. His character was eminently attrac- tive, because, speculative and resolute as was his experi- mental philosophy, and serious as his determination to fathom scientific truth, there was no want of imagination, not to say of romance, in his nature. He wrote poetry with great facility, and we find in the few effusions he has left, the evidence of deep feeling and a graceful fancy. I never met Andrew Crosse himself, but made the ac- quaintance of his widow, first in the appreciative and most interesting Memoir she has written of her distinguished husband, and afterwards, personally, at the house of a common friend. She must have been a congenial com- panion to her cultivated husband, whose pursuits she was able to appreciate and enjoy while she shared them, for her biography of him alone, would amply testify to her literary ability and scientific knowledge. It is unusual for a man of fortune and position, a landed proprietor and landlord, a country squire and magistrate, beset by the responsibilities of these social conditions superadded to the duties of a paterfamilias, to take up with grave and professional ardour so deep and engrossing a study as that of electricity; but such was Andrew Crosse's ardour in its behalf, that, insensibly led on by what \vas at first but an amusement, he was brought to some of the most wonderful discoveries that have been made in that mysterious science. There is no doubt, though his suc- cessors appear slow to recognize the fact, that Andrew Crosse paved the way for much of the practical know- ledge which has since passed as due to the labours and intelligence of others. Is not this always the fate of ANDREW CROSSE. 209 pioneers ? It must, however, be well known to the pro- fession, that Andrew Crosse deserves to be better remem- bered by the world at large : unfortunately, his own unjustifiable modesty and his shy, retiring disposition made him more of a recluse than was good for himself, his contemporaries, or posterity. Even as iron sharpens iron, the advantages of interchanging ideas with men of genius are reciprocal, and such men as Andrew Crosse discover more of their own latent attributes in the society of kindred spirits : the world of science, after all, profits more than |they themselves by the influence of this vivi- fying intercourse. The result of his famous experiment (when on quite another tack) which brought living creatures out of flints, was received in a narrow and suspicious spirit, more in accordance with the ignorance of inquisitorial rule than the enlightenment of what professes to be a cultivated age. It is hardly credible, and certainly not creditable, that, instead of being met with the generous warmth due to a success which courted investigation, a large portion of the British public, yielding to blind prejudice, passed upon the philosopher the most unworthy censures, tra- ducing as " impious " the researches of a man whose whole life was regulated by the strictest religious principles and whose unqualified belief in Christianity might have been tested by his conscientious practice of its duties. Faraday, in a lecture delivered at the Koyal Institution (February 28, 1837), propounded these special discoveries of Mr. Andrew Crosse, enlarging on " the formation or revivification by scientific treatment, of animalcula in flints, assuring his audience that he had himself tested the pro- cess with similar results. The Professor, on the same occasion, exhibited some insects obtained from hard polished stone, by a continuous voltaic stream of silicate of potassa which, like those of Mr. Crosse, were now enjoying life after a suspension of perhaps many thousand years. VOL. I. 15 210 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. As a member of society no less than as a natural philo- sopher, the life of Andrew Crosse is a beacon-light to his fellow-men, and those who admire all that is simple and noble in our common nature, may learn in the able and erudite Memoir written by his widow to appreciate his rare moral and social qualities. It is much to be deplored that in that most disappoint- ing compilation entitled " The Dictionary of National Biography," which ought to have been an honour and an ornament to our time, and a reliable authority for posterity, the account given of Andrew Crosse is as incorrect and as misleading as many other of the erroneous notices which detract so seriously from the value of those volumes. Andrew Crosse was born in 1784, and died in 1855. r ,. At the hospitable house of the late Mr. Arden in Caven- Mr. Richard Arden. dish Square, I have spent many a pleasant hour. He was a man of much taste and resource, and had great skill in discovering, acquiring, and collecting around him, works of art, which adorned his large house in London, to say nothing of the interest they added to the fine mansion he likewise occupied at Rickmansworth. His morning-room in Cavendish Square was enriched with a rare curiosity, this being a well-authenticated papyrus he was fortunate enough to secure during a visit to Egypt, where he made a singular purchase, that of a mummy. I do not remember if he ascertained who this musty old party had been, nor what became of him after he was un- rolled ; the important fact connected with him was that the cerecloth being removed, he (or, it may have been, she!) was found bandaged up in sheets, not of " fine linen," but of papyrus, abundantly written on. Mr. Arden was too shrewd and intelligent not to apply himself to ascertain what it was he had bought, and on examination it proved to be a work of the ancient Greek writer Hypereides of whom there was not known to be anything extant, all that he had written having been supposed burnt in the conna- MR. RICHARD ARDEN. 211 gration of the library at Alexandria. With the help of experts, Mr. Arden developed these wonderful leaves, and having had a limited number of copies (of which I pos- sess one) taken from plates, which were then destroyed, he caused the original, which was found wonderfully per- fect, to be framed and glazed and disposed as I have stated above, round the walls of his study : he had also a fine collection of modern pictures there ; to the best of my recollection these, or some of them, were sold after his death. His acquaintance was large, and many interesting people were to be met at his dinners and conversaziones. I remember one night, among other foreign celebrities, meeting there Louis Napoleon and his cousin.* The future Emperor was so insignificant in figure that he would -certainly have passed quite unnoticed in a room, but for his name, and even that carried very little importance with it under the circumstances. His features being remarkable for their extreme dissimilarity to those of the Bonaparte family, it was only when one knew who he was, and fixed one's attention on his face, that one began to study him, and most people would probably have remarked what might be called an intro-spective expression, as if his thoughts were concentrated on some set purpose, as we now know they, at that time, were. Mr. Arden had a twin brother who resembled him so strikingly that I, and probably others, could never be sure of their respective identity : he had two very handsome daughters, the elder of whom married Mr. Birch, brother to the Prince of Wales' s tutor. This similarity between twins occurred between two Mr. scoies. :|: Louis Napoleon was at this time renting a house of Charles Philips, Q.C., in King Street, St. James's, and was very glad to be admitted into society in London. He was one of the frequenters of the salon of Lady Blessington, at Gore House, where he was always most amiably received, and was on the most friendly terms with Count d'Orsay, who helped him in many ways ; services which he seems to have forgotten when fate had, so to speak, reversed their respective positions. 212 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. other brothers of my acquaintance by name Scoles. One of them was the architect of the Catholic Church in Farm Street. They were both of small stature, but had large families, twelve children each. An early friend who had been abroad some years, haying returned to England, and meeting one of the Scoles brothers, among other friendly inquiries, asked him if he were married, and being answered in the affirmative, proceeded to ask what family he had. "Come and dine with me to-day," said Scoles, "and you will see my children." Meantime he sent for his brother's children, and placed them and his own, down the two sides of the table, introduced them all to his guest as the young Scoles's. Need I say that his friend sat aghast till at last informed that Scoles owned only half the family he had seen ! George Eliot. Schopenhauer has laid down a theory that authors may be categorized like stars " Some," he says, " are like falling stars, producing a momentary and meteoric effect ; others are like planets and have a much steadier and longer influ- ence ; while others again, like the fixed stars, remain un- changeable, possess their own light, and work for all time.'" It is for time to prove the accuracy of this analogy, as the real and intrinsic value of an author can be estimated only by the verdict of the generations that succeed him. It is not long since the grave closed over George Eliot, or more properly speaking Mary Ann Evans, and yet it has already been faintly whispered by some, and loudly asserted by others, that she has been greatly over-rated ; men of calm judgment and reflecting mind, who may even suspect such to be the case, will assert that it is perhaps premature to pronounce an opinion on this contemporary writer, but I think even her admirers regret that she ever attempted to " ride on a horse with wings." Instead, however, of digres- sing into presumptuous and premature criticism, I will, in mentioning George Eliot as a personal acquaintance, confine myself to the recollections I retain of the refined and peace- ful, if abnormal, menage, at The Priory, where George, GEORGE ELIOT. 213 Eliot and George Henry Lewes did the honours with so much grace and hospitality. "The Priory" was a quiet, simple, unpretending, yet elegant, villa, where one seemed to breathe an atmosphere of literature. The almost classic drawing-room, half library, had a pleasant look-out into the garden, and was so entirely the recognized habitat of its occupants that one knew intuitively before being shown in, that as soon as the door was opened the pair would be " discovered," George Lewes in his easy- GEOEOE ELIOT. chair on the right-hand side of the fireplace, as you faced it, and George Eliot on the left ; you were equally sure of a cordial reception from this gifted couple, whose Sunday " at homes," though certainly not always lively, were necessarily interesting ; they brought together literary and artistic cele- brities and their Maecenases ; mostly men, of course ; still, as it was always a chance gathering, there was much uncertainty as to the materials of which it would consist ; these reunions therefore varied considerably in brilliancy and attractiveness. 214 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. George Eliot was by no means sparkling in conversation, indeed, her social attributes were rather of the heavier, almost Johnsonian, order, and her remarks were often sen- tentious, though apparently not designedly so, for there was. obviously no intentional arrogation of superiority, though perhaps an almost imperceptible evidence of self-conscious- ness. The impression she left was that of seriousness and solid sense, untempered by any ray of humour, scarcely of cheerfulness ; she spoke in a measured, thoughtful tone which imparted a certain importance to her words, but her speech was marked rather by reticence than volu- bility : now and then she would give out an epigram- matic phrase which seemed almost offered as a theme for discussion, or as a trait of originality to be perhaps recorded by her chroniclers. I remember, among many remarks of this kind, her once saying in a reflective tone, " Many suicides have greatly surprised me ; I find life so very interesting." Lewes, on the other hand, was really witty, interspersing his conversation with natural flashes of humour, quite spontaneous in character, which would con- tinually light up his talk : even when he said bitter things he had a way of putting them amusingly. I remember his asking me, one day, how stood a certain manuscript which I was about to publish. " It is with ," I replied, " and you know he takes a long time to make up his mind." "Make up his ... what?" said Lewes. " You didn't say mind ? I didn't know he had one ! " Perhaps the unlucky publisher in question had rubbed up Lewes's feathers the wrong way, consciously or uncon- sciously ; still, I admit his appreciation was justifiable, and Lewes was not the only one to take that view. Lewes had met with much vexatious indifference, not to say opposition, on the part of the publishers generally when he first proposed to write his book on the drama, and even when he had collected his ideas on the subject and " coined GEOEGE ELIOT. 215 them into words," as Bacon puts it, they were still recalci- trant and " didn't seem to see it." It was scarcely to be wondered at, therefore, that he should manifest some asperity when speaking of the fraternity. One day, just after the picture of The Dead Warrior, 11 attributed to Velasquez " had been bought for the National Gallery, I went with Lewes and George Eliot to see it. Various interpretations of the meaning of the subject had been circulated, and none had been universally accepted. Anthony Trollope had joined us and each started a different supposition, no one appearing willing to accept the version hazarded in the catalogue. If, as supposed there, " the Dead Warrior" be Orlando, alias Rolando, he must have been " squeezed to death," that hero having been represented as "invulnerable by the sword," and certainly the figure as there painted does not bear out that theory ; nevertheless it is catalogued as the " body of the peerless Paladin Orlando " who fought at Eoncesvalles by the side of Charlemagne. No attempt has been made to account for the surroundings and accessories ; the cavern in which he lies, the armour he still wears, the extinguished lamp suspended over his feet, and the skulls and bones scattered about, add to the mysterious suggestiveness, and, no doubt, all these details had a meaning. We looked at it a long time, and came away without solving the enigma which, George Eliot remarked, " left much room for the play of imagination." " Ah ! " said I, "if I had your powers I would take it as the text of a romance." " Who knows but I may ? " she answered. The triple portrait of Charles I., by Vandyke, next occasioned a pause, and suggested a droll story. I could not resist telling them of a little boy who, being asked how that king died, replied with some originality, " They cut off his body." Lewes thought the answer very significant, and contended that that was really the proper way of describing what is called a " decapitation." GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. It is, I think, well known that a bust of the king having been undertaken by Bernini, and that sculptor being a fixture in Rome, some expedient had to be resorted to, to enable him to execute the work at that distance from his sitter. Monarchs did not in those days travel about with return tickets, nor even with tickets of leave, nor if they Frvn. + PiOure fy Old Sraiir afttr Tan Byck FingCharles I / /vm fJkf 0rt0tf**n John Thanr . THE TRIPLE PORTRAIT OP CHARLES I. had, could the Eoyal mountain have compromised its dignity by going to Mahomet ; Bernini, therefore, requested that he might be provided with three views of the Eoyal head a full, a half, and a three-quarters, the result being the very beautiful and engaging group executed by the great Court VANDYK'S TRIPLE PORTRAIT OF CHARLES I. 217 painter. Happy would it have been for the sitter if his head had never been executed in any other way ! There is more however to be said about this picture, and Lewes having told me he was not cognizant of its history, I referred him to the Appendix to a curious and somewhat rare old volume called Macaria excidium* where it is given in extenso, informing us that on receiving the picture the Italian sculptor was not less struck with the perfection of the picture than with the mournful beauty of the face, or rather of the three faces. In fact, while studying with patient conscientiousness the noble features he had undertaken to reproduce in marble, he could not shake off a persistent presentiment of some terrible fate that impended over the original. The idea so seriously unhinged his mind that he set the gloomy canvas aside in a corner of his studio, hoping that, by some fortunate chance, the order might be forgotten, and that he should be spared the fulfilment of the undertaking. Finding distraction in other work, he had almost banished the English King and his bust from his thoughts, when one fine day he was startled by a communication from the English Court requesting information as to how near the work might be to its completion. Thus urged, Bernini did his best to overcome his reluctance and bravely took his task in hand. At last the marble effigy was completed and was packed and despatched to its destination. It happened to reach its journey's end while the Court was residing at Chelsea Palace, and was sent thither. The King had just dined when it arrived, and had adjourned with some of his courtiers to a summer-house in the garden, when he was informed that a case from Rome awaited his pleasure : he ordered it to be brought and to be un- packed before him ; the lid was scarcely removed and the attendants had not yet lifted out the bust they had just * Macaulay in his fragment of English History alludes mere than once to this volume. 218 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. exposed to view, when a hawk, carrying a lark in its beak r flew by, and as it passed over the spot, a streak of the victim's blood fell upon the throat of the effigy marking it with a slender crimson line. No word was spoken, but those present looked at one another in terror at the un- toward sight, the more ominous that it was found impossible to obliterate the mark. The bust was placed in a niche over the library door, and when the palace was burnt, it was. destroyed in the fire, no trace of it having ever been found. George Henry Lewes added to the charm of eminent, scholarliness and wide knowledge of classical literature, ancient and modern together with a profound and practical acquaintance with several European languages the polished manners of an accomplished man of the world. His study of almost every branch of literature and of scientific inquiry has however been proved to the world, and as the same may be said of his philological proficiency, those who knew him socially had good reason to admire while they enjoyed his conversation, in which they constantly discovered some new proof of the extent of his knowledge. Besides being master of German he not only spoke French with a scarcely per- ceptible English accent, but wrote it with ease, correctness, and even elegance. That he was intimately familiar with German literature is pretty generally known from his Life of Goethe ; but he had painstakingly studied Lessing also, and spoke with enthu- siasm of the literary genius of that writer, terming him the " father of German literature and the prince of modern critics " : he admired his style beyond everything, and considered that its lucidity and nobleness of expression afforded a valuable standard for the emulation of his countrymen, evidently finding the majority of them more or less deficient in those respects ; nor did he think Les- sing's qualifications ought to be lost on our own writers, asserting that modern literature generally could not but. be benefited by Lessing' s influence. I have heard him GEORGE HENEY LEWES. 219- exalt Nathan der Weise on a lofty pinnacle of commenda- tion, and he shared Macaulay's intense admiration for Lessing's Laocoon. Of letters addressed to myself, respectively by Lewes and George Eliot, I subjoin one or two, illustrative of the plea- sant familiar- epistolary style they each employed. George Eliot's letters were always signed " M. E. Lewes " or " Marian E. Lewes," her real name being " Mary Ann ;" I don't know if the " E " stood for Evans. Though essentially literary, both these thinkers and writers enjoyed pleasures from other sources. George Eliot was well versed in botany, and one of her greatest delights whenever out of London, was collecting from and studying the vegetable world and the flora of all the spots she visited, while George Lewes was a keen entomologist, and indeed would at the seaside also interest himself in searching out marine creatures of all kinds. " THE PRIORY, NORTH BANK, KEGENT'S PARK, " 2 September, 1870. " MY DEAR - , - - You are very good to remember us, and I assure you that the substantial signs of your remembrance are thoroughly appreciated ; but I cannot help wishing that our visions of you in person bore a fairer proportion to the symbolic appearances in the shape of good things. " We shall not, I hope, be disappointed in our expecta- tion of you next Sunday. ... It was Mr. Lewes's feeble health that drove us away again after our return from a two months' absence in Germany, but I am glad to say he is better now. " Alas ! this war ! it is hardly possible to be deeply in- terested in anything else. I fear our friend Madame Belloc and her family must be under much anxiety. . . . " Always, dear - , ' ' Yours most truly, " M. E. LEWES.'* 220 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. The following are his : " THE PIIIOBY, NORTH BANK, EEGENT'S PARK, " 18/9'/70. MY DEAR , How very kind of yon to send me this acceptable game were it not difficult to be ashamed when the object is pleasant, I should grudge myself the indul- gence in such dainties while our friends in Paris are paying 15 or 20 francs for a tough old hen. However, I suppose I may banish qualms when I reflect that J didn't bring on the siege of Paris. " Is not Victor Hugo's last, a truly Hugoish bit of rhodo- montade ! " Faithfully yours, " G. H. LEWES." " THE PRIORY, NORTH BANK, "- -, 1869. " MY DEAR , I have not the slightest doubt that your Salon Bleu would not only instruct, but interest the English public, could the said public be got to read it ; but that is opposed, first by the regrettable indisposition of publishers generally, to believe in pure literature, especially foreign, and secondly by the indisposition of the public to believe that they can be interested in it. " Still, your work is so nourri and so varied, that I should urge on you its completion ; and by way of getting over the first of the difficulties that, viz., of the publisher, or rather his ' reader,' may I take the liberty of suggesting that you translate every French passage of more than a couple of lines ? " When the original is important it may be added in a note ; but you, to whom French is a second tongue, have little idea of the obstacle it forms to ninety-seven out of every hundred readers. Every one * knows ' French tant bien que mal, ou plutbt, mal but they feel a certain foreign- GEORGE ELIOT. 221 ness in it, and when suddenly they come upon a passage- more than two lines long . . . well, they skip. " Those who don't know French, feel offended, and resent it's being imposed on them. . . . " Ever yours faithfully, " G. H. LEWES. " P.S. Robert Lytton and his charming wife are coming to us to-day, and I shall gratify her by betraying your admi- ration for his last book." Both George Eliot and Lewes were singularly unencum- bered with personal attractions, nor had either of them recourse to the adventitious aid of dress to compensate the deficiency ; but both were remarkable for a courteous and winning manner, and they received with much grace. It would be interesting to know with what view Mary Ann Evans adopted a masculine pseudonym when becoming a writer, and whether her intention was to maintain it to the end : was she perhaps of the subtly-expressed opinion of Alphonse Karr, that " when a woman writes, she commits two sins, she increases the number of books and diminishes the number of women"? Alas! if she could accomplish this latter feat, the more books she could write, the better ; and I say this without being a misogynist, the preponder- ance being really disadvantageous to themselves. Experience seems to tell us that women who think it politic to mystify the public as to their sex, are only too glad, if their works become popular, to let the truth ooze out, and they finally throw off the disguise with delight. I don't think it is generally known that George Eliot published in London, with Messrs. Triibner, a poem called "Agatha"; it was first tried with the American public, with whom it did not take, and was afterwards either sup- pressed or died a natural death, but was never circulated in this country. Of the few copies that were not despatched across the "herring pond" I possess one, given to me by 222 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Robert Curzon. George Cruikshank. the publisher. However, it had its value, for in January, 1888, a copy of this work fetched, at a book sale at Sotheby's rooms, the extraordinary sum of 10 9s., and I have since seen another copy advertised at 10 15s. Since then it has been again published in a collection of her poems, if her verses can be called " poems." I was once staying at a country house where Eobert Curzon was one of the guests ; it w r as just after he had published his Monasteries of the Levant. Our hostess remarkable for her wit said to him one day "I suppose you mean to give me a copy of your book, Mr. Curzon ? " "No, indeed, I don't," said he; "I don't give copies to any one." " Is that your last word ? " " Indeed it is." "Well, then," she rejoined, "I'll tell you what I shall do ; I shall buy a copy, and I'll lend it to everybody." Mr. Curzon brought with him a Mahomedan servant, whom he had imported, and who was very faithful to his master ; wherever he went, this man always slept on a mat outside his master's door. At first our hostess's servants did not relish the idea of having a " black," as they chose to term him, among them, but he was a humorous fellow, and in the end became a great favourite in the servants' hall. After Mr. Curzon had left, their mistress asked them how they had got on with his coloured valet ; they confessed to being much grieved at his departure, and one of the footmen remarked, he " had no idea a Turkey could be so much like a Christian." I once met old George Cruikshank on an interesting occa- sion, viz., at the Charterhouse, where Dr. Eichardson was to give a very picturesque and entertaining, illustrated lecture on Stephen Gray, the electrician : he was a Charterhouse worthy, and really the discoverer of the electric telegraph, GEORGE CBU1KSHANK. 223 though unfortunately he did not carry his researches deep enough, nor work his experiment far enough to make it practical, for he stopped at seventy yards instead of con- veying the communication round the world. As it is always le premier pas qui coute, poor Stephen Gray may be said to have opened and paved the road which his successors (who gained all the glory) had only to walk along ; but is not this the too frequent fate of inventors ? The lecture over, our party, consisting of Dr. Eichardson, George Cruikshank and his wife, Madame Parkes Belloc and myself, were conducted over the building and en- lightened on some very interesting details of its history, after which we took tea with the Principal and others who had also been invited to the lecture. Returning by rail in the same carriage, I was most agreeably entertained by the chat I had with Cruikshank. As he was born in 1792, he must have been over eighty, and had something of the garrulity of age, in which I rejoiced, as all he said was worth hearing. He told me he had been one of those who joined the original volunteer movement when he was eighteen years of age ; a French invasion being to him a bate-noire from his early youth upwards. He said that from the time he could hold a pencil, his great delight had been drawing political caricatures, and he then began his artistic career under Fuseli at the Royal Academy. Napoleon L, he added, had been a fortune to him, and he had turned him inside out and outside in, till the subject if so arbi- trary a despot could be called a " subject " was thoroughly exhausted. He had no friendly feeling for that parvenu Emperor, and spoke bitterly and contemptuously of his selfish, merciless character. Probably it was this feeling that inspired him with the desire again to join the Volunteers in the hope of helping to frustrate the threatened invasion of England by the second Emperor, Napoleon le Petit. When, however, he shared in the revival of the Volunteer movement he was thereby 224 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. brought into an unlooked-for misfortune : he had at that time realized a very comfortable little independence, but fell into sad pecuniary difficulties through the dishonesty of the adjutant of his regiment : Euskin, it seems, was moved with pity at seeing him in so woful a plight and under the weight of advancing years ; and, by way of helping him without giving him offence, ordered of him a quantity of caricature sketches, paying him for them in advance at the rate of five-and-twenty pounds each : nothing could be more generous and delicate than this mode of proceeding, and it- proved of great service to poor old " George," whose vanity was flattered by this practical appreciation of his talent, at the same time that his purse was filled by the liberality of his benefactor. Cruikshank told me that the period of his life he had enjoyed most was that during which he was engaged in illustrating books for children, especially the old traditional nursery folk-lore. The Political House that Jack Built seemed to have been one of his favourite productions ; but I think he piqued himself more on the ingenuity and also the success of his Temperance pictures than on any of his other achievements. In fact, he seemed to have got " Tem- perance " on the brain, as it became quite a craze with him ; he used to say, and no doubt to believe, that the publicans, in order to entice drinkers within their doors, sprinkled the threshold and door-posts with spirits. No wonder he earned the sobriquet of " Teetotal George " ! When he came to talk of his illustrations to the earlier numbers of Dickens's works, I expressed my conviction that by his clever conception of the different characters, his pencil had done more than the author's pen, to attract the public and to fix them on the reader's mind ; and indeed it is more than probable that the popularity of this author was in great measure due to the irresis- tible humour of the spirited and telling sketches which accompanied them. I found him, however, fully alive CHAELES DICKENS. 225 to the merit of his own work, and when he added that he considered Dickens and Ainsworth his auxiliaries and not himself, theirs, he spoke without any kind of affecta- tion, as simply giving utterance to a foregone conclusion. I have met these two popular writers as well as their illustrator, and certainly found him the most interesting of the three. Cruikshank died in 1878. Charles Dickens was once by chance my fellow-traveller Charles on the Boulogne packet ; travelling with him. was a lady not his wife, nor his sister-in-law, yet he strutted about the deck with the air of a man bristling with self-importance : every line of his face and every gesture of his limbs seemed haughtily to say " Look at me ; make the most of your chance. I am the great, the only, Charles Dickens ; what- ever I may choose to do is justified by that fact." When we landed, the luggage (after the clumsy fashion of that day) was tumbled into a long rough shed and placed on a counter to be searched. I happened to be near the spot on which the " great man's " boxes had been deposited, and as he walked up to surrender his keys "Owner?" inquired the Custom-house officer, briefly and bluffly. "I am," answered the only Dickens, in a consequential tone. " Name ? " said the official, as bluntly as before. " Name I " repeated the indignant proprietor of the same, " ' what NAME ? ' did you say? " reiterated he, in a voice which meant " Why don't you look at me instead of asking such an absurd question ? ' : But the man stood there stolidly, with his lump of chalk in his hand waiting for the answer, which had to come, nolens volens : " Why t CHAELES DICKENS, to be sure ! " To Master Dickens's mortification, the name and the tone alike failed to produce any impression on the pre- occupied official, who continued unmoved the dull routine of his duty : had the douanier been one of the other sex, the result might have been different. VOL. I. 16 226 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. A friend of mine whose countenance perhaps it was the cut of his beard might by a stretch of imagination be said to bear some resemblance to that of Charles Dickens, told me that having lunched at a Station-refreshment-bar one day, he had drawn out his purse to settle the account, when the " young lady " of the counter, with bashful gestures, absolutely declined accepting any payment ; she had shown herself obsequiously attentive, and now begged he would freely help himself to anything he required " free, gracious, for nothing." His astonishment was great, and was not diminished when he found that he had been actually mis- taken for Charles Dickens, and in that character was not required to liquidate his expenses ! He hastened to assure the sentimental barmaid that if, which he begged to doubt, he resembled the people's novelist in feature, he entirely differed from him in principle, and had no wish to avail himself of adventitious circumstances to shirk payment of a just debt. As a rule, the private life of a public man ought perhaps to be protected from the curiosity of the world ; but when, having made himself a public man, he has the bad taste to parade the unwarrantable acts of his private life so as to give public scandal, his conduct cannot escape criticism, and with it, the censure it has earned. It is very possible that the wife of Charles Dickens may, in consequence of his own altered proclivities and position subsequently to his marriage, have become unsuited to him, but should that have been visited upon her? None who know the history of her outraged life, can respect Dickens as a man, however much they may admire him as a writer. The members of his family held their own views as to his heartlessness ; for, even allowing for the lowness of his antecedents and origin, his deficient education and his recognized lack of the instincts of a gentleman, no one can afford to overlook his immoral life, his unchastened vanity, and selfishness, and the presumption with which he blazoned DICKENS'S GEANDMOTHEE. 227 forth his indifference to the feelings of those he injured, to the opinion of the world, and to the sacredness of his own vows. Yet this is the man whose delinquencies the world chooses to ignore because he amuses them, and of whom Mr. T. A. Trollope can write as follows : " . . . He was a hearty man, a large-hearted man, that is to say, he was perhaps the largest-hearted man I ever knew. . . . His benevolence, his active, energizing desire for good to all God's creatures, and restless anxiety to be in some way active for the achieving of it, were unceasing and busy in his heart ever and always ! " This writer evidently tried to say the best he could of him, but at the expense of what simple folk would call truth and honesty. I think it was in The Daily Neivs I saw a letter from Mr. Wemyss Eeid giving an account of the grandmother of Charles Dickens to the effect that " old Mrs. Dickens was housekeeper at Crewe in the time of the first Lord Crewe grandfather of the present holder of the title, and of the first Lady Houghton, his sister. I well remember," says the writer, " Lady Houghton speaking to me with enthusiasm of Mrs. Dickens's powers as a story-teller. It was her delight, as a child, to listen to the tales which the old lady was able to relate with so much dramatic force and feeling ; and it was with the greatest interest that, later on in life, Lady Houghton recognized in the illustrious author of David Copper field, the grandson of the favourite of her childhood." " Old Mrs. Dickens had one grievance which Lady Houghton still recalled when she told me about her. It was the conduct of her son John Charles's father against whose idleness and general incapacity she was never tired of inveighing." Of that once popular writer, Harrison Ains worth, I have Harrison an earlier recollection. I used to meet him in society in my far-off youth, and once happening to sit next him at a -dinner, I remember being struck with the occasional flashes 228 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. which lighted up his features and added a brilliancy to his conversation. Such readers of his historical romances as survive will recognize this phase of his character ; but his works, notwithstanding the warmth with which they were welcomed are now almost numbered with things of the past r and it is doubtful whether the present generation is much acquainted even with their titles. The signal success they met with at the time, was in a great measure owing to the refreshing change they brought in the light literature of the day. Readers were satiated with sentimental love stories, and Harrison Ainsw r orth wisely seized the opportunity to introduce a description of novel which should develop a new class of interest. The fascination of his style won upon the reader, and each successive production was eagerly looked for and enthusiastically received. Thus, it was not long before the author had raised himself to an enviable social y as well as financial position. His origin and antecedents had been but humble, and his early life was one of considerable drudgery, so that his advancement was due entirely to his own courage, initiative, intelligence, and industry. Aius- worth was necessarily, when he first started in a literary career, a superficial writer, his education having been of a very imperfect character, but he was clever enough, in writing historical romances, to present his heroes as partly creations of his own imagination, and his events as simply founded on fact. Writing led to reading, and as he advanced he gradually made himself master of History " as she is- written " and accepted though probably Harrison Ains- worth's versions have as much truth in them as any of the accredited historical records in which we are taught to believe : Byron's opinion of " History, that great liar," was. not far wrong. Ainsworth's poetry, signed "Cheviot Tichborne," appeared in the desultory form of fugitive pieces in the periodicals of his early days, but though it led him to the ladder of fame, did not much aid him in mounting it, and is now altogether HARRISON AINSWORTH. 229 forgotten, though the " poetical license " he allowed himself with historical personages and events, speaks well for the fertility of his imagination. As he wrote for the million, sensationalism was de rigueur, and taking two notorious highwaymen for the heroes of two of his novels, he manipu- lated their adventures with so much skill, vigour, and romance, that these volumes became the best known and the most popular of his works. They were subsequently dramatized and attracted crowds to the theatres, so success- fully had the author drawn to these criminals, the interest .and sympathy of the populace. Happily, having had their run, Dick Turpin and Jack Sheppard fell into oblivion, but it was only temporarily ; for, strange to say, at the very time when the lower orders were being inevitably demoralized by the perpetration of a series of crimes of unexampled boldness and atrocity, and the whole of society was more or less disorganized by their horrible mysteriousness, the adventures of the desperate highway robber were resuscitated, and the former drama was once more put on the stage with every accessory that could render it attractive ! However, we must do the author the justice to say that ,all his romances were not of this character; some indeed shine by the healthiness of their tone, and justify the pride taken in him by the inhabitants of Manchester, who remem- bering the unpretentious character of his early occupations as compared with the brilliancy of his later circumstances, considered he had cast a lustre on his native city, and availed themselves of the first appropriate occasion to give a public dinner in his honour, at which they showed him every mark of kindly appreciation. I can recall Harrison Ainsworth's physique, which was remarkable ; he was a fine, tall, handsome, well-whiskered fellow, with a profusion of chestnut curls, and bore himself with no inconsiderable manifestation of self-consciousness. There was a certain want of refinement in his manner as 230 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. well as his appearance, which would perhaps have been less noticeable had he not set up for a double of d'Orsay, to whom he may be said to have borne some resemblance ; but. it was a very coarsened copy, sometimes almost a caricature. This particularly applies to the absurdly exaggerated mode he adopted of throwing out his chest and exhibiting a, large expanse of dazzlingly white shirt-front, planished,, decorated with jewelled studs, and emerging from a gilet en cosur which followed in material and pattern, whatever d'Orsay had pleased to adopt ; it was therefore generally very gorgeous : all this would, however, have been incom- plete had not the wearer acquired the peculiar d'Orsay knack of throwing open his coat to display the long-con- sidered detail ; and here it was, the difference between the two men was seen. D'Orsay knew how to " snatch a grace beyond the reach of art," and, however studied his toilette,. never appeared conscious of what he was wearing, whereas- his imitator did not, perhaps could not, contrive to conceal the fact that he was trying to produce an effect, and that his thoughts were more or less occupied about it, all the time. As years went on, Harrison Ainsworth married, and ultimately became a steady old paterfamilias. This ci- devant elegant lived on to the age of eighty-one, and died a broken-down, but venerable, snow-headed old man. Hepworth I* 1 the career of Ainsworth's contemporary, Hepworth Dixon, there were many points of similarity to his own ; but not in his stature or appearance, for there was nothing imposing in Dixon's exterior. Both rose from humble origins and the drudgery of commonplace occupations, neither having been destined for a literary position, and both climbed into literature by laborious steps. Both started with the expedient of supplying poetical contribu- tions to second-rate (and now long defunct) periodicals, but though these effusions are buried and forgotten it was their tombstones that constituted the steps by which their writers ultimately attained to fame. HEPWORTH DIXON. 231 Dixon's ambition brought him early to the Metropolis, where he took both life and literature more seriously than his contemporary historical romancist, for he not only wrote historical works of a graver and more practical character, but he mounted the platform as an historical lecturer. This was a mistake, for although a painstaking and conscientious writer, he possessed none of those personal accessories indispensable to effective oratory, and did not shine in elocution, his delivery being deficient and his voice unsuited for public speaking. "Nam neque chorda sonum reddit quern vult manus et mens." He was not a scholar, but, being gifted with more than average intelligence, a certain breadth of mind, and in- domitable energy, he took the initiative in many important public measures, devoting time, thought, and ingenuity to philanthropic reforms, and advocating them ably with his pen. Like Harrison Ainsworth, he was an extraordinarily voluminous writer, but he was not always accurate, though he read and studied his subject diligently. I remember hearing his lecture on the Tower of London, delivered at the Royal Institution, and was not the only listener who found it disappointing. Dixon, from being on the staff of The AtJienceum became its editor. He distinguished himself by his papers on schools, reformatories, and prisons, and was an advocate for public " education " ; but, like many others who started the idea on a common-sense basis, would certainly be very much horrified at his participation in that ill-managed movement if he could see the abuses by which it has been, and is being, turned into a disaster instead of a benefit. Being of a Nonconformist race he busied himself much about Dissenters, and took considerable trouble to prove that William Penn. was not Thomas Penn, though the result of his labours was far from satisfactory. It is probable that Hepworth Dixon did not get full credit 282 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. for all there was in him ; he impressed one as being slight and superficial, though his writings betray considerable erudition, . . . or a vast amount of " cram." But what writer is there who retains in his mind the knowledge imparted in his pages ? Even the great lexicographer, when questioned on derivations or orthography, was wont to refer the inquirers to his dictionary. Dixon's last completed work was a pamphlet to prove not like A.rchbishop Whately's celebrated logical tour de force, that Napoleon I. never personally existed, but that Napoleon III. never intended to invade England. This was hardly worth proving, for such an "intention" could not possibly be of the least impor- tance ... to England ; it was one of those possibilities which " might have been unfortunate for the coo." Hepworth Dixon's visit to the Salt Lake (for he seems to have travelled in all directions) and his researches among the Mormons supplied matter for a very interesting volume, containing elaborate details as to the surprising number of sects and tenets he studied ; the most curious, perhaps, being that which has assumed the self-satisfied title of " Perfectionists," whose practice would undoubtedly find favour in the present day, supported by a code of morals which seems to solve the enigma of Plato's republic, and enjoins a community of wives ! His book called Spiritual Wives, however, gave great umbrage to British propriety and considerably damaged its author's popularity ; but this only afford another proof of the subjectivity of things, seeing that, at the present time, we, as a civilized community, have got on so fast that, a few years after, we are publicly discussing the expediency of the marriage bond ! Now, therefore, that we have improved away all the old-fashioned social scruples which once regarded the influences of family-life as essential, it is probable that a new edition of Hepworth Dixon's once ostracised work would prove a lucrative speculation. This must depend, however, upon the social influence of those WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. 233 demoralized beings who are doing their little best to write up the merits and advantages of " Free Love " ! Hepworth Dixon contrived to get on in society, though his manner was not altogether agreeable, and he undoubtedly made enemies by his vanity and his too palpable attempts to be cleverly satirical. As long as he edited The Atlienaum he could fire off his smart criticisms with effect, but once deprived of literary power he began to find he must abandon his reputation for " smartness." He was not a really ill- natured man, but could not resist the self- gratification of showing off his wit. However, the last few years of his life came burdened with so much sorrow that we forget the asperities of his character in a profound commiseration for his misfortunes. We see him sitting despondently, like Job, in all the depression of sorrow, age, and ill-health, while one messenger follows another with the announcement of a fresh disaster, mercilessly fallen upon him. He had imprudently but who does not commit financial imprudences ? invested all his savings in Turkish Bonds and his loss was disastrous ; while trying to supplement the little he had left, by a new work he was preparing for the press (Old Windsor), his house in St. James's Terrace, Eegent's Park, was blown up by the explosion on the Canal ; in the midst of these misfortunes he received news of the death of his eldest daughter, followed by that of the sudden death of his eldest son. With a courage, w r e cannot but admire, he sought distrac- tion in work ; but while sitting up in his sick-bed, correcting his proof-sheets, he suddenly expired. A writer of this date, whose daughter I knew, but only after her father's death, was Winthrop Mackworth Praed. This daughter married a Greek and left the country some years ago. I always regretted not having met her father, whose poems are (for the most part) really poems, full of grace, taste, humour, and feeling, and deserve to be better known. A friend of mine, a distinguished Indian General, told me that once, when a boy of twelve, he was so smitten 234 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. with a poem of Praed's, which appeared in some periodical or annual, that he ventured to write to its author and express, his delight. To his immense gratification, the poet con- descended to reply, and most kindly, to his boyish effusion. He had always kept this answer which he once showed me ; I am sorry I did not take a copy of it. Alas ! he is dead now, and Praed passed away in 1839. It is to be deplored that so much that this poet wrote should have become irretrievably buried in the forgotten pages of ephemeral publications. Mrs. Jameson. I was once, many years ago, in company with Mrs, Jameson, who did not personally realize the idea I had pre- viously formed of her. Her conversation in itself was pleasant in tone and matter, but was just conventional enough to suggest something of the poseuse ; this may have been the result of that species of nervousness which sometimes besets the very individuals one would expect to find the most self- possessed ; those who knew her well, have told me that her disposition was extremely amiable ; her position in the world of art and literature was a fully recognized one, and such as- to supersede any need to affect false modesty on the one hand, or self-sufficiency on the other. I never saw Mr. Jameson, who seems to have had little or no qualification to entitle him to celebrity of any kind, and can have been known only as " Mrs. Jameson's husband." As far as I recollect, they married under the auspices of some common friend, who persuaded them they were "made for each other," but a very few weeks proved that she knew nothing about the matter, for Mr. Jameson having obtained a business, or Government, appointment at Toronto betook himself thither, leaving his bride behind him, thus rather abruptly terminating a brief honeymoon. After a time she was persuaded to join him as a matter of duty ; but although she at once complied with the suggestion and went, she had reason to find that, for the second time, her matrimonial adviser had put her on a wrong track : a reunion did not MRS. JAMESON. 235- take place, although, having crossed the Atlantic, she remained in Canada some time. Mrs. Jameson's ability as a writer, though widely recog- nized, did not suffice to place her in independent circum- stances ; her father, Mr. Murphy, a clever miniaturist, and patronized by the Princess Charlotte, had left her and her three sisters in a position far from affluent ; the youngest alone married, and as the other two grew older, Mrs. Jame- son thought it right to assist them, and behaved with great liberality, so that finally her circumstances became very much embarrassed and she had little besides her small pension from the Civil List to depend on. This pension was, after her death, through the exertions of friends, con- tinued to, and divided between, the two unmarried sisters who had long been dependent upon her. Mrs. Jameson's friends, who were not only numerous, but zealous in her behalf, joined in getting up for her a testimonial fund and succeeded in collecting 1,000, with which, I believe, an annuity was purchased. She was then sixty-five, and the arrangement proved an unfortunate one, as she survived it. only two years. I have heard an anecdote on the subject of this testi- monial, but think it must be apocryphal, to the effect that, as soon as the sum had rounded itself off into 1, 000, Mrs, B. W. Procter undertook to communicate to her this result r asking her at the same time if she would like to have it in the form of a diamond bracelet. If this could possibly be- true, Mrs. Jameson must have been strangely puzzled at a suggestion so violently out of character with the circum- stances, but it is said that she replied "Let me enjoy the pleasure of gratitude." At the time of her death Mrs. Jameson was engaged on an elaborate work The Illustrated Life of Our Lord, subse- quently completed by Lady Eastlake. Mrs. Jameson had a niece who was married to Mr. Macpherson, the much- approved photographer in Eome. She was a bright, pleasant- 236 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. little woman, an excellent wife and mother, and popular among English and American visitors to the Eternal City. She died comparatively young, but survived her husband two or three years. Mrs I met this niece not long before her death, which was oiiphant. quite unexpected, during a visit she paid to England, at the house of Mrs. Oiiphant (the popular and attractive writer) at Windsor ; Madame Parkes Belloc was there, and it proved a very pleasant little luncheon party. Mrs. Oiiphant was charming, amiable, and spirituelle, and, as we all knew Eome, all had interesting notes to compare. Mrs. Oliphant's house was delightful in its unconventionality, consisting of two small tenements thrown into one, with the happiest result, and furnished tastefully and with much artistic feeling. Sir Thomas A few years ago Sir Thomas and Lady Hardy were re- DuffusHardy. s j^ m g a ^ a p re tty villa surrounded with its own grounds, not far from " The Priory " in St. John's Wood : their Saturday evenings were planned to assemble a small gather- ing of literary, and often (it must be admitted) other, ac- quaintances, accustomed to meet each other and to be welcomed by the genial smile of old Sir Thomas : though ageing rapidly for he was born with the century he retained all his faculties, and with them the quick intelligence which had long distinguished him, first in his prepara- tion, and then in his practical performance, of his official work. No one could have been chosen, the employment of whose previous life had been a better preparation for the duties which fell to him ; he seemed to have been born with a taste for archeology. Even as a boy, his great delight was in paleography, and he showed the greatest perseverance in puzzling out and deciphering ancient MSS., inscriptions, and hieroglyphics ; the care of public papers oould, therefore, hardly have been committed to more appropriate hands. Petrie had given him valuable help, and on the retirement of that able functionary, Hardy undertook the compilation of the Munimenta Historica, SIK THOMAS DUFFUS HARDY. 237 and while at the Tower arranged several issues of reports on the Public Kecords : when, in 1861, Sir Francis Palgrave was removed by death, the post of Deputy-Custodian of the Public Records was given to him. It was then that he began the compilation of his admirable Catalogue, with an invaluable description of certain documents held by him, to serve as materials for a history of Great Britain and Ireland. His Catalogue of the Lords Chan- cellors, Keepers of the Great Seal, is also a most accurate and useful work. It was Sir Thomas who pointed out to the Master of the Eolls the importance of forming the " Rolls Series," of critical editions of the old Chronicles, on account of their bearing 011 English history, and who persuaded him to take the matter in hand. Sir Thomas Duffus Hardy died in 1878, but not till he had achieved an honourable reputation as having rendered considerable public service in his official duties, which he carried out with accuracy, intelligence, and conscientious- ness. In private society he was charming : gentle, amiable, and, though always full of information, as simple as a child. Lady Hardy, his second wife, whom I knew, was the writer of many popular novels, and their daughter, still sur- viving, pursues the same class of literature as her mother. Sir Thomas's health became feeble, and required great care; Lady Hardy was so observant of all that could affect it, that, among other precautions, she carefully regulated his hours of rest, and her Saturday receptions were limited to the interval between eight and eleven o'clock. Of the strict observance of this rule due notice was given ; but at the striking of the latter hour, the gas was rigidly turned off, as well, I may add, as the company : in summer, the evenings were partly spent out of doors in the grounds. I often met Carlyle in the London Library, of which he Carlyle was President, and never saw him without renewed interest of a certain kind ; bis peculiarities were so peculiar. Philoso- 238 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. phical as were his written sentiments, one would have expected to find in his life some practical trace of their elevated tone. Alas ! this correspondence between words and actions was far from accurate in his case ; and even if his confidential biographer had not completed the dis- illusion, the self-betrayals in his last will and testament would have sufficed to disclose important and suggestive traits of character. The curt mode in which Henry Greville dismisses this worthy, in a paragraph of his Memoirs, is as good a satire as ever was made on a pseudo-philosopher: "Dined at the Ashburtons, where met Carlyle, whom I .had never seen before. He talks the broadest Scotch, and appears to have coarse manners, but might perhaps be amusing at times." Carlyle, however, to give him his due, certainly did behave with singular philosophy on the very trying occasion when J. Stuart Mill, having undertaken to read over the manuscript of the third volume of his History of the French Revolution, came one day in utter consternation to tell him " it had somehow got destroyed ! " Mill's voice was so broken and his countenance so dis- turbed when he made this terrible communication, that Carlyle, touched by his distress, magnanimously resolved that he should never know how serious the matter was to him. He had written it off currente calamo (after pro- foundly studying the subject, and reading every trustworthy authority he could find) entirely from the impression received from this variety of sources, and had not kept a single note to refer to for matter that could help him to rewrite it ; indeed, more than a year passed before he could make up his mind to go to work upon it again. He finally did take it up, however, and with what success, an admiring public knows. This incident in Carlyle's life deserves to be not only recorded, but considered. It suggests a compensating THOMAS CAELYLE. 239 feature in that gnarled character which betrayed itself so unmistakeably on his gnarled face. It is curious to note in the Life and Correspondence of Lord Houghton, the high estimation in which Carlyle was held by him ; his regard and admiration cannot but seem exaggerated, especially now that we know so much more of the " Chelsea philosopher's " real character. Many of the quaint and clever things put forth by Carlyle deserve to be treasured ; but among them not one shows more common sense than his remark that " any book found to be published without an index should be immediately put into the fire." It is a curious fact that Carlyle could not find a publisher for his Sartor Resartus. He hawked it about to every member of the profession ; and it was only after publishing fragments of it in Fraser that he could get it taken at all, and then on very disadvantageous terms : yet nothing can be more admirable or more fascinating than Carlyle's theoretical philosophy, well exemplified in his Past and Present. Among the guests who used in my youth to frequent a beautiful villa on the Thames, occupied by an old family friend, were some of the fast and fashionable celebrities of the times. Of these I remember, among others, Count d'Orsay, Thomas Slingsby Duncombe, Dillon Browne, Sir Lytton Edward and Lady Bulwer and their young daughter Emily, Bulwer - then about ten years old. The host also had a daughter called Emily, of about the same age, and, being an engaging child, she was much noticed by " the author of Pelliam" as he liked to be called. One day he took the child on his knee, which proved a not very comfortable seat ; for, though much of a dandy, he was tall and gaunt, and his knees were probably bony. The little girl, therefore, presently shyly asked if she might get down. " Get down, my dear ! " he replied. " Eh ? Yes, if you wish it ; but I can tell you there are a great many young ladies who would not at all object to find themselves where you are." 240 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. One day, when calling at the house later on, he found its. mistress on the sofa, deeply engaged in a book. " What have you got there that interests you so much ?"" said he. " The School for Husbands," she answered. "You don't mean to say," he replied, " that you consider lite long enough to waste it on such unmitigated trash ! " " Oh ! but I assure you, Sir Edward, I consider it very clever, very smart, and witty. You should look at it again, and you would discover that you have quite misappreciated it." ' " No, thank you ; I have neither read, nor do I intend to read, that wretched book ; and you may rely upon it, if you have found any sense within the covers, those pages are not by the soi-disant author." * The " author " in question was Lady Bulwer. LYTTON BULWER 241 To the best of my recollection, Lady Bulwer had not a winning expression, though some may have considered her handsome. Her hair, as well as that of the little girl, might by courtesy have been called "auburn," but had a strong inclination to that more rubicund hue not always admired in this country. This child was their only daughter, and died in 1848. If Sir Edward was bitter against his wife, she on her side BCLWEB SHAVING. was not sparing of harsh terms when speaking of liim; and she certainly lost some sympathy she might have won from the world by taking this line, although her sarcasms were often cleverly expressed. She did not shine as an author, nor did she publish more than two books, the one named above, and one called (though apparently it did not prove) Very Successful. But they seemed to be written for a VOL. I. 17 242 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. special purpose, and so, perhaps, no other end was aimed at by their author. Bulwer was in his earlier life much noted for his affecta- tion, and much smiled at for the frequent introduction of the engraving of his bust as a frontispiece to his books. He delighted in being thought original, followed many Oriental customs, and assumed Eastern costumes. Strange to say, he openly avowed his preference for pipes over cigars, and went in for other fashionable vices or shall we call them vicious fashions".? Notwithstanding this, he was a thinker as well as a writer, and however indifferent some of his earlier produc- tions may have been, his plays as well as later novels give evidence of reflection, cultivation and originality. He has written some of the cleverest remarks to be found in print, and shows not only ingenuity in his plots and shrewd observation in. the characters he draws, but great literary and scholarly ability. T. siingsby Thomas Slingsby Duncombe, better known as " Tom Dun- Duncombe. com b e ," and " Honest Tom Duncombe," was, to the best of my recollection, foppish in his dress, as tall as d'Orsay and affecting something of his style. He had, however, none of the Count's genius, and being M.P. (for Finsbury), was more taken up with political than social considerations ; he not only strove to make himself popular with his con- stituents, but he succeeded. As a society man, he obtained a certain notoriety, and certainly could not have been numbered among the saints of his day : he and Dillon Browne were among the numerous intimate admirers of the beautiful and bewitching Madame Vestris. At one of the dinners referred to above, in a sotto voce conversation between the two, the latter was heard to relate how he had once asked that lady to choose him some shirts. Nothing loth to exhibit her taste and her indifference to expense, she selected a dozen at three guineas each, and ordered them to be sent to him with the bill, of course. TOM DUNCOMBE DR. SAMUEL BIRCH. 243 The gentleman was obliged, as the French say, to execute himself with grace, and had to pay the thirty-six guineas she had let him in for. " By Jove ! " answered Tom Duncombe, " the very trick she served me \ " What else could they expect of a woman who cost the Duke of B .7,000 in one year, for violets alone, with which her house was perfumed from garret to cellar, all through the winter. I enjoyed the privilege of many years' acquaintance with Dr. Samuel Birch, of the British Museum, our great Egyptologist. Egyptologist and Oriental scholar generally. His celebrity is too widely spread to need any observation of mine thereon ; but I must add my testimony to such as have already written of him, to the effect that he was a very remarkable man ; remarkable, indeed, for the gentleness, modesty, and thorough simplicity of his character ; for his utter unconsciousness of his own worth, and his complete neglect to make capital of it. So simple, unassuming, and unaffected was his manner, that, until made aware of the fact, no one could ever have suspected what a wealth of knowledge he possessed. The record of Dr. Birch's pub- lished works all invaluable adjuncts to Oriental philology, history, and art is astoundingly voluminous for one man's life-work, especially as he is always accurate and trust- worthy, and would have published nothing, the sources of which he had not ransacked to their inmost depths. His mind held a firm grasp of all he had studied, and his eye had been trained to so correct an appreciation of MSS. and works of art, that it was with the utmost confidence he was entrusted with missions to search into and appraise the value of antiques and rarities of whatever kind, under con- templation as purchases for the Museum. I was greatly amused one day when having received from a friend some wonderfully skilful pseudo-twelfth-century reliquaries which that gentleman was much tempted to pur- 244 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. chase, and which he had sent me for competent inspection and inquiry I carried them to the Museum, and, going up to Dr. Birch's private room, begged his attention for a moment to some " antiques " on which his opinion was sought. Then opening the parcel, I had scarcely uncovered one corner w r hen he gently put out his hand to stop any further proceeding, saying in his quiet, deliberate way, and with a half- smile, "Oh, those are forgeries." DK. SAMUEL BIRCH, THE EGYPTOLOGIST. I could not suppress a laugh, as I replied, "Oh, Dr. Birch ! How can you pronounce such a rash judgment, when you haven't even seen the things ? " "I assure you," he answered, in the same calm way, " I do not need to see any more ; I know them quite well." " What ! You've seen them before ? " "Yes; that is, not these; but others from the same moulds. They are very well done, and the cerugo on them DR. SAMUEL BIRCH. 245 is most successfully produced. They were forged about twenty years ago, and were represented as dug up in Suffolk." "Well, I certainly had these sent me from that part of the world, and, as you say, they appear to be very well imitated ; for, although I did not intend to return them without your inspection, I have already shown them to Mr. - , who is supposed to be an authority, and he pro- nounced them genuine and great curiosities." I don't know that I need add that Dr. Birch's half-glance was of more service than the thorough examination of the other " authority," who had kept the objects in question for a couple of days. Dr. Birch was a man of most winning address, genial and hospitable to a degree, receiving with graceful simplicity, and never so pleased as when surrounded by the cultivated guests he had the art of assembling at his table. I remem- ber one dinner he gave, at which we were twenty-four, to celebrate his seventieth and his youngest child's seventh birthday. Unfortunately for his friends, his innate modesty and his too retiring disposition led him to put them forward in conversation, while his own rich stores of knowledge remained comparatively out of sight, or rather out of hearing. Going one bright summer afternoon to see him at the British Museum, I found him hard at work in his room, and on my noticing his laborious task, and inquiring into the extent of it, he rose and took me through the new gallery then all but completed, and rhere the cases already contained countless Egyptian and other antiquities, not one of which was as yet catalogued; "that," said he, " is work cut out for a long to come," and he walked on, pointing out to me in detail one object after another with a readiness and acumen really marvellous even to one as much impressed with the scope of his information as myself. 246 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Observing that he looked worn and tired, I said, " Come now, I called to-day on purpose to get you out of your shut- up room into the fine summer atmosphere." " Oh ! indeed, that is impossible," said he, " I have work I must do to-day," and he seemed determined to stick to it ; in the end I persuaded him that he was too jaded to do any good work that day, and at last got him out. I then pro- posed he should accompany me to see an old friend, General Sir James Alexander, who lived in the neighbourhood, and a very interesting visit it proved. The General and his daughter had just received from a friend in China a con- signment of most curious goods, among all of which we found Dr. Birch quite " at home." One was a magnificent hand-embroidered satin State dress, intended for a lady, the satin, though all silk, was like a board for stiffness, and the embroidery was worked in flossy silks of the richest dyes, and in most original patterns ; the lining was as carefully and as tastefully finished as the exterior, and it had no "seamy side." There were fans of exquisite workmanship in boxes of costly inlaid tortoise-shell, mother o' pearl, and delicate woods, all highly polished and as conscientiously executed within as without. There were books full of the most wonderful patterns printed on silk paper, and several volumes of the most ludicrous caricatures and humorous sketches touched off with an unmistakably-artistic com- mand of the pencil, or rather the pen ; for though on the most delicate silk paper they were in Indian ink ; each leaf was double, and the double edge formed the front of the book, the title of it being printed on the edges of the leaves instead of on the back * of the cover. These volumes, it appears by Dr. Birch's explanation (for he was past master of Chinese literature), are arranged after the style of our comic illustrated papers, only the * This is the fashion still followed in the library of the Escorial, where the gilded leaves are turned outwards, the name of each volume being stamped or marked on the surface they form when closed ; the effect is very curious. DR. SAMUEL BIRCH. 247 drawing was infinitely cleverer, a single touch in some of them resulting in an inimitably expressive effect. Some of these sketches were rather risques, and the letter- press was not always within the bounds prescribed as suited " virginibus puerisque" but the majority, and these were perhaps the cleverest, were perfectly admissible, and won- derfully ludicrous ; the human types, however distorted, were all of Chinese nationality. Dr. Birch was a very fair French scholar, and talked of the Paris of long ago where he frequented the salon of Mde. Recamier (nee Bernard), whose beauty he described as then much on the wane. She lived on, however, many years after that, dying only in 1849. Madame Recamier's marriage was a very abnormal affair. It has been con- fidently stated that M. Jacques Rose Recamier was her father, and went through the ceremony of marriage with her, simply that he might thus protect her youth and beauty from the demandes en mariage of men to whom he would have objected to give her. It may be remembered that a few years ago an extra- ordinary robbery of antique engraved precious stones took place under most mysterious circumstances from one of the cases at the British Museum. Not long after the theft, some of the stolen articles were offered for sale at the museums of Continental capitals, where, either because they were supposed not to be genuine, or were suspected as stolen, they did not meet with ready purchasers ; on their being, however, taken to Amsterdam, the local autho- rities stopped the gems and communicated with various museums, among them with ours ; Dr. Birch was at once sent over to identify the articles, and although they had been tampered with so as to materially change their appear- ance, he succeeded not only in recognizing and recovering the whole of them, but in bringing the thieves to justice. It was then found that the process by which they had been abstracted, must have been a very elaborate one, a key 248 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. having been made by the ingenious rascals expressly to open the case on which they had their eye. It had required many visits, and 011 crowded public days, to carry out this little game ; first to examine the lock, then minutely to observe it in such a way as to be able to make a rough key that would go into the scutcheon at all, and subsequently to modify its detail so as to render it available. It was proved further, that even when they had succeeded in unlocking the case, they forebore making too large a haul at one time, helping themselves cautiously, and when favoured by the confusion of a large concourse of visitors. It was delightful to see Dr. Birch playing with his little son, his youngest child by his third wife. Unfortunately for the boy, he was too much petted, and presuming upon this indulgence, took liberties which w T ere more amusing than approvable, as the child was spirited and intelligent ; in a spirit of fun he used always to address his father and to speak of him as " Dr. Birch." Prob- ably an occasional birching would have been of use to him. Dr. Birch was so zealous in his work, in which he took a real and (for his own health) too laborious interest, that it never occurred to him to spare himself ; he never shortened his daily tasks by a single minute, and his holida} T s w r ere very limited ; in fact, if he spent one or more single days away from the Museum on account of any inevitable private or family business, he had to make it up when his short holiday of, I think, twenty-seven days came round. When I first knew him, and for a long time after, he had a delightful residence within the Museum enclosure, opposite that of his brother- in-law, Dr. Grey, Professor of Natural History ; but the rules and regulations were so strict, requiring him, among other restrictions, to be in by an early hour at night, that he preferred paying the rent of a house of his own, where he might, in such respects, be his own master. THE POET CLOSE. 249 By this means he got, together with his liberty, a little more exercise, having to go to and from the Museum daily ; but he had become prematurely aged from a long life of hard study and close work, and his health giving way under a bronchial attack, he died suddenly at the moment when, according to the doctors,* the disorder had taken a turn for the better. Dr. Birch died December 27, 1885. I was among those who sadly, followed his remains to the grave : the service was simple, and its solemnity was relieved by choral music. The attendance of friends was large, and the coffin was hidden under an abundance of white flowers ; the burial was at Highgate Cemetery. It seems strange that all these great capabilities should have brought their possessor no more than .500 a year, a sum not only absurdly inadequate as a remuneration, but unfortunately disproportionate also to his requirements, for he had children by each of his marriages, and the British Museum does not supplement its salaries by granting pensions to widows and orphans. Residents in, and most tourists to, " the Lake district," The Poet must have heard of, if they never saw, a curious individual whose harmless object appears to have been, to pass for a " character." In pursuance of this idea he called himself, and did his best to get others to call him, " The Poet Close " ; and even went so far as to aspire to be considered " The Laureate of the Lakes," and to obtain a pension on that ground ; but his claim for this title was founded on the quantity, and not the quality of his verse, and had there been a Professorship of Doggerel vacant he might fairly have been a candidate for it. Ambitious as this soi-disant " poet " was, it never occurred to him to soar into loftier, or to stray into wider, regions than those which formed his immediate surroundings, and if * Doctors, apparently of the same school at the French medico who comforted a weeping widow after a similar fashion : '' Madame, vous avcz toujours la con- solation de savoir que votre mari eat mort yuiri." 250 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. ever he wrote an epic, the subject must have been taken from the exploits of local heroes, and the beauty of the Westmoreland maidens. " Poet Close " probably fancied himself a second Milton and, determining not to be a " mute, inglorious" one, let no occasion pass, by which he might build up a reputation, and he soon found himself the owner of one . . . such as it was. By levying black mail, on a principle of his own, on all those he could draw within his reach, and showing them up in versified satire if they did not purchase his works, he contrived to make a very com- fortable livelihood. It was at the landing-pier at Bowness that I had the honour of making the acquaintance of this satellite of the cluster of stars (of doubtful brilliancy) called " the Lake poets " ; and truly the twaddle of some of these over-rated worthies bears a strong family resemblance to some of the inspirations of the " Poet Close." After standing beside the poor old fellow's little bookstall and chaffing him for a quarter of an hour which process he not only bore with responsive good humour, but was so pleased that he asked me my name and qualifications with a view, he assured me, of immortalizing me in his verse ! I had so far won his favour that he tried to press on me, as one of the fraternity of letters, a copy of his book, but finally yielded to my persistence, and I honestly bought it ; I did even more in expiation of my perhaps somewhat free jokes upon him, for I drew it from my pocket as soon as I was in the railway carriage and read several of the "poems." Being limited to his personal surroundings, they could not be very interesting to the general public, but was "Peter Bell " one whit more so ? Insignificant as this humble " Lake Poet " may have been, he was the cause of a party storm in that great Metropolis which he never saw and perhaps rarely thought of. Lord Palmerston, then at the head of affairs, was urged by a local magnate (M.P.) to confer a pension on Close " in con- THE MISSES BUSK, OF GREAT HOUGHTON. 251 Bideration of his services to literature," and taking it for granted that personal investigation of the merits of the case was not needed, acceded to the suggestion and enriched the soi-distant "Laureate" with 100 a year from the Civil List. The grant proved less gracious than it appeared, for soon after, the truth as to the problematical services ''literature" had received, leaked out, and then it seemed only fair to more deserving applicants to withdraw the pen- sion and bestow it more worthily. Doing and undoing are, alas ! two very different processes, as we all have to learn, and to withdraw ,100 a year from a man to whom it has been conceded as a reward for merits which he fully believes he can lay claim to, is not an easy task. The difficulty was therefore met by a compromise, and Close had to content himself with 50 a year for life, but thought himself a very hardly used man. It seemed to me (from the invidious tone he adopted towards the " other Lake Poets" whom he criti- cized unmercifully but not altogether unfairly) that he entertained a suspicion that the diminution of his allowance was the outcome of their jealousy. The life of Lord Houghton has been so exhaustively ord ht treated of, that it seems almost impossible to add anything new on the subject; nevertheless as the ''grandmother" from whom the Milnes family derived their wealth, was my father's first cousin, I may correct an error which I see has crept into Mr. Wemyss Eeid's otherwise tolerably accurate information on the family genealogy. There were two Misses Busk, co-heiresses of Jacob Hans Busk, of Great Houghton, Yorks ; one of these Kachel married Mr. Richard Slater Milnes ; and her son, Eichard Pemberton Milnes, was the father of Eichard Monckton Milnes, afterwards Lord Houghton. The other Miss Busk Mary also became " Mrs. Milnes," but by her marriage with Mr. James Milnes, a distant cousin of Eichard Slater Milnes, and M.P. for Bletchingley. Mr. Wemyss Eeid states in his memoir, that " Effingham " [he 252 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. probably means Egreraont] House, Piccadilly, was the Lon- don house of Mr. Richard Pemberton Milnes," which is an entire mistake : not only did Lord Houghton himself once tell me that he had never lived there, but my father used to point out to me Egremont House which had then become Cambridge House, and the residence of Lord Palmerston - as the mansion occupied in his youth by his cousin. Mrs.- James Milnes, who used to give receptions there, which were honoured with the presence of the Prince Eegent, after- wards George IV. He used to describe how, on these occa- sions, the doorsteps were covered with scarlet cloth, and how Mr. James Milnes came down himself and received His Royal Highness on the perron, carrying two wax candles in silver candlesticks, with which he walked upstairs, backwards, conducting the Prince. Egremont (not Emnghani) House, is now the Naval and Military Club. Mrs. James Milnes, the sister of Mrs. Eichard Slater Milnes, possessed splendid diamonds, which were so valuable that she kept a man at a salary of ,500 a year to look after them ; but if any were lost he bound himself to replace them. I don't know if this con- tingency ever occurred ; but, for his own protection, he seems to have followed his lady like her shadow whenever she was wearing them, not only to theatres and all public places and to large private gatherings, but even w r hen his patroness dined out, he watched her in and out of her carriage, and remained within the house as long as she was there. Mrs. James Milnes's death took place before that^of her sister Mrs. E. S. Milnes ; she left no heirs, and the fortune of the latter and her family was still further increased thereby ; for all the entailed property went to them ; the personal property and the famous diamonds passed to the Milnes Gaskells and the Daniel Gaskells of Lupset and of Thornes House respectively both in Yorkshire. Mr. James Milnes' sister was Mrs. Milnes Gaskell. Great Houghton was a property of considerable extent and importance in the county of York, and Houghton LORD HOUGHTON. 253 Hall was a dwelling of historical interest : it had belonged to Lord Strafford, and there is a family tradition that the black cloth with which the great vestibule was draped at the time of Lord Strafford's execution, was never removed until it dropped away by age. There were other relics of the period, among them a silver salver used by Lord Strafford personally, up to the time of his death, and which, through Rachel Busk, came to her grandson Lord Houghton, and is still preserved at Fryston, the celebrated residence of three generations of the Milnes family. I have a very distinct recollection of my father's cousin, Lord Houghton' s grandmother, and when she was wearing widow's mourning she and two daughters came to see my father at our place in Kent. She was then very old and must have shrunk with age, as both she and her sister, Mrs. James Milnes, when young, were tall and well-grown women, joining in country sports and being famous for hunting and fishing : there was very little appearance of these physical an- tecedents at the time when I saw Mrs. Richard Slater Milnes. Bull House, Leeds, was a freehold also belonging to my great uncle Jacob Hans Busk the father of these ladies ; there was a curious tradition about that house to the effect that its owner, having insured it for a large sum during fifty years, one day reckoning the amount it had cost him at compound interest, was so startled at the result of the calculation, that he determined to discontinue the expense, as there had never been any alarm of fire of any kind, during the whole of that time ; strange to say, that very year and, as usual, owing to the carelessness of one of the men- servants the house took fire, and was burnt to the ground. There is not much to be said about Lord Houghton that has not already been employed in composing the two volumes of his life (Wemyss Reid, 1891). A little anecdote he once related to me is curious : when presented to Louis Philippe in Paris as Mr. Milnes, the King wishing to get the name correctly, said, " How do you spell ? " and when 254 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Milnes had given him the letters M. i. 1. n. e. s., His Majesty replied : "Ah! I remember, when I was in England, eating the best strawberries I ever tasted, at your place in Yorkshire,, near the coal pits." I once made a little tour with the archaeological section of the British Association, Lord Houghton then Monckton Milnes being one of us. He spoke on the occasion, but I regret to say, this being many years ago, I quite forget both the subject and the discourse, though I remember the satis- faction his address afforded, and the just remarks made by those present on the universality of the speaker's knowledge. Lord Houghton was a good reader and was fond of reading aloud his own poems to friends who dined with him. This was always a pleasure to the listeners, for his verse gained greatly by the intelligent emphasis with which he declaimed it. Lord Houghton's compositions are, as a rule, original and also graceful, and there is much freshness and poetry in his ideas, but his style has sometimes the appearance of being laboured and leaves the impression that what he wrote would have pleased better if less care had been bestowed on it ; occasionally the sense seems to get muddled by superfluous re-writing; an author, retaining in his head his original idea, does not perceive this, and to him it seems still there, under what he conceives to be a better form of expression ; as however, he has arrived at this, only after perhaps turning it upside down, and inside out, adding here, abstracting there, making changes in favour of harmony, which imper- ceptibly weaken the sense, the reader who has not the original notion to guide him, has to make an effort to dis- entangle it from the rhetorical refinements by which it has become concealed. It is the same with pictures . . . . ut et pictura, poesis ; a sketch from nature, should never be touched. Towards the close of his life, Lord Houghton's articulation became much impeded, a circumstance greatly deplored by LORD HOUGHTON. 255 his friends. His sister, Lady Gal way, was considered by many, the better reader of the two, and her ability as an artist was very considerable. The sketches she made during her last tour with Lord Houghton in the Holy Land, would adorn the portfolio of any professional land- scape painter. Her death was very sad, being due to an accident. Lord Houghton was an early member of Grillon's Club, so called because its locale was Grillon's Hotel ; founded by members of Parliament in 1813, this club was purely literary and social : the intention of its founders being to establish a neutral ground on which men of all opinions could meet, politics were strictly 'excluded. The number of members was limited to two hundred, and as many as could attend met at Grillon's Hotel at a breakfast, every Wednesday during the parliamentary season. The fiftieth aniversary of the club was kept on May 6, 1863, and at that time there were only seven of the original members surviving. It was among the original regulations that every member, on his marriage, should have his portrait painted by Slater and engraved by Lewis, and that a copy of the engraving should be presented to each of the other members. On Slater's death, George Kichmond, that consummate master of the art of portrait-painting, was appointed to succeed him, with Holl as the engraver. In 1860, a collection of seventy-nine of these portraits was sold at Puttick's. Financially, Lord Houghton may be said to have been among those whom Fortune loves to favour : the days of railway compensations are over; but, besides the large fortune brought into the family by his grandmother, Eachel Busk, a portion of her Yorkshire land, around and within the borough of Leeds, was bought up at fabulous prices, for the construction of railways, and also for building purposes con- sequent on the lines and their branches ; the produce of these sales enabled Mr. Pemberton Milnes to restore the family fortunes, and to recoup himself for the sacrifice he 256 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. and his son had made in paying over ,100,000 to clear off certain liabilities of their relative, Rodes Milnes. The following lines by Lord Tennyson were published shortly after Lord Honghton's death : " Oh ! Great Appreciator ! sorrow-wrought "Tis in world-life thy epitaph we find, A noble- feeling for it, wondrous kind, Eeciprocal delight in talent sought. Honour him, for he knew what soaring thought Told as it flashed on many-sided mind ; Rich friendships round his lettered life have twined To whom pure love of greatness, greatness brought Gifted with sympathetic insight, he With deep-set eyes, and twinkling with shrewd jest, Discerned the aiight or nought he met, could see Where genius, merit or mere pride might be : He knew and loved men ! Giving of his best, Host, patron, critic, poet ! Let him rest ! " SOCIAL CELEBRITIES. WOMEN. VOL. i. 18 " It is less difficult for a woman to obtain celebrity by her genius than to be pardoned for it." BBISSOT. CHAPTER IV. SOCIAL CELEBRITIES. WOMEN. " Every woman who writes, has one eye on her manuscript and the other on some favourite of the opposite sex." HEINRICH HEINE. " The proper study of mankind is . . . Woman." Not POPE. IN my young days a book- writing woman was still regarded as a social phenomenon. If a woman were more highly cultivated than usual, she was called a " blue," * and con- sidered a bore ; men, as a rule, secretly sneered at her, and women, also as a rule, held her up to ridicule, while both, as a rule, avoided her, especially if ". . . She could speak Greek As naturally as pigs squeak." The view they took was a narrow one, and except where learning rendered a woman arrogant or pedantic, it was also silly and unjust. We have changed all that now, and, up to a certain point, a woman is preferred for her cultivation. Should she presume on it, and thereby provoke the contempt or aversion of either sex, she cannot be said to get more than she deserves. The women who were regarded as " blue stockings " forty Mrs - or fifty years ago, however, would probably attract very little attention now, unless it were those who distinguished them- selves in a remarkable way, such as Miss Herschel or Mrs. * Catalani, the singer, whose English was very funny, used to call a learned lady " a stocking blue." 260 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Somerville. Of the last-named lady, who certainly inscribed her mark on the age, I remember entertaining a feeling of dread, and making a point of escaping whenever she called at our house ; for there, as everywhere, she was held in the highest esteem, and as The Mechanism of the Heavens * occupied an essential place on our schoolroom bookshelves, I always apprehended the possibility of being put through it by, or in presence of, the authoress. This fear was entirely the effect of imagination, as no one could be less pretentious in manner, or more amiable and gentle in conversation, than Mary Somerville, though her scientific attainments were of so high an order, and the subjects she grasped and dealt with in so masterly a style, were rarely approached by her sex. Even scribbling women of far less exalted pretensions, and who, at the present day, would be regarded as something below the average social standard, came half a century ago, within the category of literary lionesses admired by some and invidiously shunned by others. Mrs. Eiwood. There were two daughters of Edward Jeremiah Curteis, of Windmill Hill, Sussex, M.P. for the county, who used to visit at our house. The more popular, and by far more elegant of the two, was married to Sir Howard Elphinstone, Bart. ; the other, who was decidedly plain and without personal distinction, was the wife of Colonel Eiwood, of Clayton Priory, who was known about there as "cherry-stick El- wood," on account of his polished bald head and rather curious features. This lady had " written a book," and the book went boldly to the point ; it was neither more nor less than The Lives of Remarkable Women. Another literary production of her pen was an account of her journey home from India, by the Overland route, and especially of Egypt, where her party lingered some time, and where she the first Englishwoman who had attempted the feat had ascended the Great Pyramid ; though I don't think she got * This book was written at the instigation of Lord Brougham as a contribution to the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge Series, MRS. ELWOOD MARIA EDGE WORTH. 261 to the top. It must be remembered there were no ready- Cooked tours to " foreign parts " in those days, and except in the way of business, ladies rarely visited such an out-of- the-way place as Cairo. To the best of my recollection there was no assumption in this lady's behaviour ; but, to a certain extent, she was regarded as a social curiosity. We may well say things have changed in half a century ; at the present day, the social curiosity is the woman who has not written a book ! If Maria Edgeworth, one of the pioneers of female author- Maria i i L i t T, u I,*' Ed 8 eworth - ship, was somewhat beiore my time, I have been brought into what I may call a traditional acquaintance with her, through a niece of this favourite writer, who has long been an intimate friend of mine. My impression of Maria Edgeworth, as gathered from what I have heard from her niece, is that she must have been a very fine character, remarkable for her extreme unselfishness, genuine goodness of heart, and the purest and most practical " altruism." Her love of children was very striking, because if she had no domestic ties of this nature herself, it was entirely due to a feeling that she could be more extensively useful to her kind if she remained unmarried. But this was not her only reason ; she knew how important her services were to her father ; and, though seriously tempted by a proposal of marriage from the Swedish Ambassador, to whom she was much attached, she resisted his repeated appeals, in order to devote herself to her filial duties ; her father, however, does not appear to have, for a moment, considered his daughter's happiness, or to have shown any recognition of the sacrifice she was making. He had been brought up by his father strictly upon the principles of Kousseau's education of Emile ; but how? ever excellent in theory, these principles appear to have failed in practice ; at all events, the result in this case was far from encouraging. I have seen many letters of Maria Edgeworth's addressed 262 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. to my friend, her niece : the autograph is distinctive, the writing being small and even cramped, but very legible. Besides this interesting correspondence, she has often shown me curious relics of the Edgeworth family, valuable old miniatures and original medallion portraits in early Wedgewood. the traditions of which are all stereotyped in her memory, and well worth listening to. In a group of the Edgeworth family, owned by this lady, she pointed out to me the portrait of the Abbe Edgeworth de St. Firmin, confessor to Louis XVI., and cousin of Eichard Lovell Edgeworth, Maria Edgeworth's father. I intend, however, to speak of him in detail in a future volume. Whether from having been born and brought up in the midst of these legendary associations, or from inheriting the wit and intelligence of the Edgeworth family, my friend and her daughters are charming company ; their recollections of these and many other celebrities of their time, are accurate and informing. A repartee of one of the daughters aiforded me considerable amusement one day, when I was paying a visit there. I must state that these ladies were at that time residing in a handsome house in Bathurst Street, the ground floor with a separate entrance, being occupied by a druggist in a large business. I was taking my leave, when a dashing carriage drove up, and a lady, the wife of an eminent publisher (but who at that time was also a bookseller), came up, rustling with silks and followed by her daughter. The young people having met, the daughter proceeded to entertain her young visitee with an account of the difficulty they had had in finding the house. " Do you know," she said, " we drove past this door two or three times, thinking we must have mistaken the number, as we could not imagine you would be living over a shop." "Well, you see," answered the young girl, with commendable dignity and ready wit, " we can't afford a grander house, for we don't live by a shop." LADY STRANGFORD. 263 Before we dismiss this publisher I must cite a bon mot, of which he was the subject. Dining at his house one day, I heard a lady remark to the gentleman sitting next to her, " What a splendid room this is, and what costly plate, what exquisite flowers, and what a banquet ! " " Yes, madam," returned the addressee, stiffly, " do you know what it is all made of ? " The lady answered with a look of surprise, half-scared, for the tone was that of a man W 7 ho felt what he said. " I will tell you," he continued, " author's brains." Lady Strangford and her sister, Miss Beaufort, daughters Lady of Admiral Sir Francis Beaufort, were related to Maria Edgeworth through their mother, who was another niece of that writer. Lady Strangford's indefatigable interest in a countless number of benevolent schemes needs not to be recalled here ; her life is well known to have been one of unceasing utility and liberality. The Beaufort family, as she once told me, carried on life in the most original way, and the hours they kept were so much at variance with those observed by the rest of the civilized world, that it must have been difficult for the younger members to maintain intercourse with society. A lady who may be cited as a celebrity among women Mrs. of her time, was Elizabeth, only daughter of the Eight Hon. Arthur St. Leger, created Baron Kilmadon and Viscount Doneraile, in 1703.* While yet a young girl, she was the heroine of a curious adventure, the tradition of which has found its way to succeeding generations, but in a fanciful form. It was, I remember, a nursery tradition with us, that a young lady, moved by that curiosity attributed to the sex generally, had once concealed herself within a large, old-fashioned clock, in order to overhear the conference of a meeting of Freemasons; that, by inadvertently touching the pen- * This lady was married to Richard Aldworth, of Newmarket, co. Cork. 264 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. dulum, she had stopped the clock ; that one of the fraternity, suddenly becoming aware of the circumstance, had risen and opened the clock-door, to ascertain what was wrong with the machinery, when lo! the awful fact was revealed that " a chiel had been amang them " ! However dissonant with the feelings of gallantry which ani- mated these members of the secret society, the inquisitive damsel was by the stern inquisitors condemned ... to die ! Her fate seemed sealed, for the laws of Freemasons are inexorable ; but the deus ex machind assuming the form of Cupid, came to the rescue. The maiden was noble and beautiful ; a susceptible Mason fell in love with her on the spot and popped the question ; but it was, of course, in the awkward form of what is called "holding a knife to one's throat " "Marry me and I will become answerable for you on your taking the required oaths ; refuse me, and, by our laws, you die." There was not much room for choice ; a young and beautiful damsel could hardly be expected to throw herself into the arms of death, when there was a handsome and spirited young fellow holding his, open to receive her. She fell into them, and having taken the required oath, was admitted into the fraternity to become the only female Freemason that ever existed. Talking over this, one day, with Colonel Alcock Stawell, I obtained from him the true story, which is quite sufficiently romantic, and his version may be relied on as authentic, since the lady in question was his grandmother. She was, as I have said, the daughter of Lord Doneraile, who seems to have enjoyed some privileges among Masons, and who was a "Master," and "lodges" were held at his house. On the occasion of one of their meetings at Done- raile Castle, they were assembled in a room or hall, com- municating with a smaller room, the door into which happened to be open ; his young daughter being occupied, quite by chance, in the inner room, unwittingly overheard all that was going on. Too much alarmed to know how to Ho.N 1 " 1 MKS. Ai.mvoKTii, DAUOHTF.K OF THE FIRST LORD DOXERAII.K. The only Female Freemason. (From a Minintun- f /In- tnn,.\ LORD DONERAILE'S DAUGHTER 265 act, she at first thought the meeting would shortly disperse, and that her accidental presence would never be known ; and then again it occurred to her that she had far better escape, if it were possible to get away unperceived. She accord- ingly stole out, and, keeping close along the tapestry of the vast hall, in the gloaming, successfully passed the gentlemen seated at the table in the middle of it, who were too much absorbed to notice her. She had reached the door and opened it, when, to her dismay, she found herself suddenly confronted with an unexpected sentinel, called the " tyler," whose office it is to guard the approaches whenever a lodge is held. This functionary, as in duty bound, brought his prisoner back into the middle of the hall, and presented the terrified girl to the assembly. An unanimous regret was frankly expressed for the fate the young maiden had incurred, but they agreed there was only one issue. " Oh ! no, gentlemen," said Lord Doneraile, "I am not going to lose my only daughter ; you must find some other way out of it." " There can only be one * other way,' " replied the spokes- man, " but she is not a man ; if she were, she might be sworn in, a Freemason." " Then," said Lord Doneraile, " she must be sworn in, without being a man." The conclusion was accepted ; the young lady was sworn in, then and there, and proved as loyal to her oath as the best man among them. Colonel Alcock Stawell was one day relating this story of his grandmother to a Master Mason, who was naturally greatly interested in it, when the latter replied, "Well, now you have told me something about your grandmother, I will tell you something about mine, whose adventures caused her to be named ' The Lady of the Four Birds.' " She was a Miss Crowe, and was married, when young, to a Mr. Crane. This gentleman having left her a wealthy 266 GOSSIP OF T-HE CENTURY. widow, she was courted by a Mr. Hawke, who behaved exceedingly ill to her. She sought the legal assistance of a Mr. Baven, who married her, having successfully pursued and obtained for his fair client large damages from the Hawke. These may be called " Tales of a Grandmo^e;-." It seems fair when speaking of remarkable women to record the names of several distinguished ladies whom I remember as actively busying themselves somewhere about the year 1828 et seq., in the amelioration of the condition of the poorer classes by the organization of societies with fixed rules ; their practical working being carried on by house-to- house visiting in towns, as has always been more or less usual in rural districts. No doubt, Mrs. Fry's courageous prison-visiting had suggested this movement, which was taken up with ardour by the Evangelical school of religion ; and women of the world who felt that life had its duties as well as its pleasures, readily formed, in concert with the clergy, associations, having for their object the moral and material improvement of the poorer classes. My mother was an active but unostentatious worker in the cause, which had its raison d'etre before the British workman was injudiciously elevated to be the tyrant of his employers, before our servants were trained to consider themselves our masters, and before children who have been picked up in the gutter were turned into " young ladies " and " young gentlemen," to the detriment of society at large, and more wofully still, to their own. The voluntary teaching and class-holding of benevolent ladies would now be sneered at by a class which has been worshipped and petted till it has altogether forgotten itself, and house-to-house or district visiting would probably be resented with a " not-at-home " on the part of the visitee. The Comtesse A few short years ago, however, this was not so, and the lower classes gratefully received instruction, assistance, and sympathy from the upper. I very well remember the THE EVANGELICAL MOVEMENT. 267 Comtesse de Montalembert (mother of the distinguished Comte) as an active member of the association to which my mother belonged; she was a stately person, but could unbend gracefully, though she retained some of her native Scotch characteristics. Lady Jane St. Maur, daughter of the Duke Lady Jane of Somerset, also gave herself heartily to the work, and not- withstanding her position and its duties, found time to do her part with benevolent readiness ; she was always simple in her dress and manner, and was a great favourite with her proteges. Lady Catherine Graham (who was kept much Lady at home with an invalid daughter whom I never saw off Graham, the sofa, ^and whose son Sir James Graham was at that time First Lord of the Admiralty) was another who un- grudgingly bestowed time, energy, and money on the cause ; as also did Lady Nugent, wife of Lord Nugent, Governor Lady Nugent, of the Ionian Islands. Miss Neave, daughter of Sir Eichard Neave, was said to Miss Neave. have given up a very advantageous marriage that she might devote her fortune as well as her time to a cause she regarded as of vast public importance, and she established at Manor House, Chelsea, a reformatory school for girls, in order to rescue them from the dangers of prison life. I might mention many more contemporary philanthropists, devoted to a work, the limits of which were certainly far more judicious and logical than those of a system which, at the present day, exceeding all moderation, does not pro- duce results which can be considered in any way satisfac- tory. That a large public organization was demanded by the increasing needs of the times, every one must concede, but the working of the present w r ild and extravagant schemes which have by degrees come to exceed all proportion, sufficiently testifies to the lamentable mistakes of the new departure. I have a distinct recollection of Mrs. Fry and her gentle, Mrs. Fry. and yet commanding bearing ; I can see her now, as she appeared in her own house, where amongst a number of 268 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. similarly attired women, she seemed to be treated with an affectionate reverence. Her hair was quite white, braided in bands, and she wore the conventional Quakeress cap, her dress being grey with a white muslin kerchief crossed on her bosom. A gathering to which I was once taken in early childhood at Mrs. Fry's house by my mother, had reference to her prison- work (as I guessed from the little I understood of the MKS. FKY. proceedings), but having been deposited on a chair in an out- of-the-way corner of the room, I began to find it tedious work, and, by way of varying the monotony, made some amusement by drawing my arm in and out of its sleeve. It was while the latter was hanging empty that the pow-wow came to an end, and Mrs. Fry happening to pass that way, and to observe it, said to me in soft and sympathic tones, but quite gravely, " Has^thee but one arm, my poor child ? ' Mrs. Fry was a portly woman, and had a solemn and MBS. FEY. 269 imposing appearance in her prim cap and sober apparel. I was awed, too, by the deference with which I had seen her treated ; so, instead of venturing a reply, I shyly slid my hand in again, and produced it at the cuff; but she didn't smile, she simply remarked, " Ah ! it is well matters are no worse," and walked on, much to my relief; but, from what I have seen of " Friends " and the rigidity of their principles, she may have considered this a deplorable instance of youth- ful depravity, and have made up her mind that the next time she saw me it would be in the House of Correction. When the King of Prussia was in England in 1842 (February 5th),* he went to visit Newgate Prison. Mrs. Fry was there either advisedly or by accident, and had the pluck to invite His Majesty to lunch. As she was occupy- ing a surburban residence I am pretty sure it was at Stamford Hill the King, who accepted the unceremonious invitation with pleasure, had to drive through the city, a distance of five or six miles. The coachman, however, represented that the Koyal horses could not accomplish the distance (!) so it was suggested that a pair of post-horses should be added to the equipage, an arrangement by no means relished by Her Majesty's coachman. The tutoyage of " Friends " is not very grammatical, the word " thee " being substituted for " thou," without any accountable reason ; there seems no justification for " thee does," " thee hopes," "thee walks," "thee are," &c. I was once staying with some Quakers, and being young, amused myself and them with talking Quaker-language ; on one occasion, employing "thou" in its correct sense, thus: "Thou must go out," &c., I was corrected by a * It is interesting at the present moment to record that on the occasion of this Prussian Royal visit, His Majesty made magnificent presents to all the officers of the Royal Household ; Snuff-boxes worth five hundred guineas each, to the Lord Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse and the Lord Steward ; boxes and watches to others, and he left in the hands of Charles Murray, for distribution among the three classes of servants at the Palace, .1,500. (See Charles Greville's Memoirs.') 270 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. "Friend" present, with, "Thee mus'n't say ' thou,' thee must say ' thee,' thee knows." A Quaker, however hospitable, I found, never presses a guest at table to take a further helping, if he refuse at the first asking ; it is supposed that a repetition of the offer would impute insincerity to the person addressed. Quakers either take, or affect to take, everything that is said or done, at the foot of the letter ; I once heard a Quaker child ask his mother whether he might go to witness a "Tremendous Sacrifice " which he had seen announced in a shop window, asking at the same time what they could be going to sacrifice, as he had thought that form of worship had long since been done away. Quaker ladies make a point of dressing very plainly and in sober greys, drabs, and browns ; but if they are well off, they use none but the richest materials, whether in dress or furniture. Every article of food too is always of the best, and their tables are most luxuriously served. They keep men-servants and equipages, and I knew a wealthy Quaker widower living quite alone, who commanded the services of a valet as well as a butler and footman ; coachman and groom of course ; and he gave his cook five-and-thirty guineas a year, in days when eighteen to twenty were con- sidered very fair wages. He also travelled with every kind of comfort, including his own bedding. His house at Bruce Grove was furnished in the costliest style, though everything was sedulously plain, and no tint but greys and drabs was admissible ; he had also two country seats, one at Eydal Mount, adjoining Wordsworth's place, the other called Glen Kothay, in Scotland. Another I knew, who lived in a large villa at Stamford Hill, and who, besides his coach- man, butler, and footman, kept three gardeners. A Quakers' meeting strikes a stranger as being a very strange kind of religious function. It is the part of " Minis- ters" or " Elders," of either sex to say the prayers, and also to address the meeting; but only if "moved by the spirit," QUAKEES' MEETINGS. 271 and I have attended meetings whore, after sitting a certain time, the whole congregation has risen and left the meeting- house, "the spirit" having happened to " move " no one. The praying is intoned with a monotonous nasal twang in a kind of chant, very irritating and very fatiguing to listen to ; the congregation are understood to follow it, whether the spirit move them or not, which does not seem logical. No one kneels. I was once at a Quaker funeral, and remember being specially struck with the discourse, sermon, or oration pro- nounced over the deceased by one of the congregation. It was so quaint, whether from the affectedly simple language employed, or the extraordinary nasal tone adopted, that not- withstanding the solemnity of the occasion, I really thought y at first, it must be a burlesque. Quakers do not (or did not, then) employ the ordinary nomenclature for describing the days of the week ; they call them First-day, Second-day, &c., and "First-day " mean& not Sunday, (which to them counts as the " Seventh-day)," but Monday. It is a curious fact that the Quakeress bonnet, which to an outsider recalls nothing so much as a coal-scoop, and appears to the uninitiated to have from time immemorial maintained that shape, has its variations the same as the bonnets of mondaines ; a fashionable young Quakeress would no more consent to wear a last year's coal-scoop after it had ceased to be fashionable, than would a Duchess consent to appear at Court in the dress she had worn at a previous Drawing-room, unless modified. It is true that, by degrees, the number of individuals sporting these distinctive badges has considerably diminished, and in London it is now extremely rare to meet these prim sectarians, styled by Sydney Smith, " the drab-coloured men of Pennsylvania, habited as were their fathers and mothers." The names which Quakers were w r ont to bestow on their children were strictly biblical, but less remarkably so than 272 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. those of the Puritans of a former generation, with whom it was not unusual to employ as a name a whole sentence out of the sacred volume ; for example : I have heard of one youth whose patronymic of " Gibbs " was preceded by the following name, or names " It is only by much tribulation that the righteous can enter into the kingdom of heaven." " Gibbs " at the end of all this, produced rather a bathos. As it would have been somewhat burdensome especially considering the deliberation with which Quakers are wont to speak to repeat this string of names each time the bearer of it was addressed, it was abbreviated for convenience' sake, and the lad went by the name of " Tribby Gibbs." I remember a farmer we once had (who was not a Quaker) .christening his boy "Harry," and on asking him why he had not bestowed on him his own name of " John," he gave a very practical reason, to wit, that you couldn't hail " John," whereas, however far off the boy might be, you could always make him hear by shouting " Har-ree." That man would not have been puzzled to reply to the question " What's in a name ? " Quakers' wooing is said to be very droll, and it is not altogether unusual for the lady to offer herself, and in .a way which should make the swain deem himself highly honoured by the condescension. I was once told by a Quakeress the story of her own courtship. In this case the youth performed his own part, according to accepted .custom ; but was so timid that, although (as usual) his pretty .speech was prepared and learnt by heart, it, most pro- vokingly, vanished just at the witching moment. In this dilemma poor Reuben had nothing for it but to .edge his chair up to the one occupied by Rachel, who, how- ever, resented his reticence by withdrawing hers. This manege went on till further retrogression was stopped by the wall. . At each move he had ventured to whisper the fair creature's name, accompanied by a nudge with his elbow ; yet matters were no further advanced ; at last, under an QUAKER PECULIARITIES. 273 impulse of desperation, having repeated the sweet name and the affectionate nudge once more, he added in a pro- voked tone " Thee knows very well what I mean, Rachel." There is a story of a pretty young Quakeress, a widow, who kept an hotel ; one day a gallant (and apparently also gallant) Colonel was among her guests. In the morning when he was going away, he came to take leave, slid behind her, clasped her waist, and declared he " must have a kiss." " Well," said the conscientious Quakeress, " if thee must, I'll not make thee tell a lie ; so thee may do it this once, but remember thee mustn't make a practice of it." Quakers used at one time to object, on principle, to pay taxes ; perhaps the objection still holds good, but on reflec- tion they probably find it politic to conform to the laws and usages of the country; in the earlier part of the century, however, there were many who practically carried out their system, and would, on no consideration, proclaim their inconsistency by handing over voluntarily the amount claimed by the collector: these stiff-necked non-conformists, however, were shrewd enough to leave accessible a few silver spoons corresponding in value to the sum demanded, allowing these to be seized, and satisfying themselves with the consideration that this negative submission was not a spontaneous recognition of the legal enactment, they chose to ignore. Though they tolerate crowned heads, they refuse to recognize them as rulers, and the following anecdote is a not inapt illustration of their feeling on this subject :- When George III. was (in 1788) with his family at Worcester, where he became extremely popular, an attempt was made to " move the spirit of the Quakers " there, to address His Majesty; but there was no getting them out of their old track of opinion and habit ; in fact, they rather disliked the results of the Eoyal visit, as interfering with the regular course of events. About a dozen of the younger and more inquisitive among them got leave from their elders VOL. I. 19 274 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. to be present within the Court-yard when His Majesty's coach left the Koyal residence, hut none of them would uncover their heads. The King, seeing they were Quakers, made no remark, hut took off his own hat and bowed to them, on which they returned His Majesty's politeness by waving their hands, and the eldest, making himself spokes- man said " Farewell, Friend George ! " * The King and Queen laughed merrily, as they drove away, at this quaint expression of good will. wniiam and William and Mary Howitt, familiarly known among their MaryHowitt. f r j en( j s as William and Mary," I fell in with, at the time when they were residing at Highgate, and saw them not very long after the loss of their son, who was drowned in New Zealand. I was told by the friend who introduced me, that r being believers in spiritual communications, they were both firmly persuaded they had each, separately, received, on the day and hour of the young man's decease, a manifestation which satisfied them not only of his death, but of the kind of fatality which occasioned it. Both were extremely pleasant and amiable in their reception of those who were not of their sect, and both were venerable in their appear- ance; for a mild, gentle, quiet, reposeful manner characterized them, alike. In .fact, in their presence (as in the recollection of them), it seemed impossible to separate their individuality, and I remember looking on them as they sat there together, and wondering, when death should call away one of the pair, how the survivor would be able to carry on a divided exis- tence. It was William Howitt who preceded his wife to the grave ; and with that strong religious fortitude which enables the Christian philosopher to accept the inevitable as a dis- pensation from heaven, Mary Howitt lived on in the faithful discharge of duties which gave satisfaction to her life, even * In the various secret and scandalous memoirs of the Courts of the Georges, a story crops up now and again of an early and secret intrigue not to say marriage of George III. with a member of the Society of " Friends." L. E. L. 275 after she had lost him who seemed so inseparable a part of herself. She lived on, honoured and beloved for the simple, unselfish virtues of her character, and holding to the last the literary reputation she had earned by her publications, all written in a spirit of tenderness for her fellow-beings, and of touching confidence in Divine protection for herself. Mary Hewitt's widowhood was passed in Italy, and it was but a short time after her husband's death that she was received into the Catholic Church to become a fervent devotee. Her death took place in 1887 at Rome. I used to meet L. E. L. at the house of Mr. Wm. L. E. L. Pitt Byrne, and remember seeing her there, shortly be- fore she married Sir George Maclean Governor of the Cape and went out with him to his Residency. Miss Landon was of -a good old county family, I believe, but not blessed with much wealth. Her appearance was very much what her literary productions would have led one to expect. No one, I think certainly, no one of the present day who happens to have read any of them, would consider them other than amateurish and epheme- ral, and altogether of the period that tolerated and even patronized those "Drawing-room Annuals" which have now happily evaporated. The fact that she gave existence to "The Drawing-room Scrap-book" sufficiently characterizes not only herself, but the epoch of her authorship, and was consistent with her pretty face, and amiable, lady-like manner. Her death was, and, no doubt, will always remain, a mystery; there seems no sufficient reason to suppose it was due to suicide, as her husband professed himself perfectly satisfied as to the blamelessness of her life, and altogether repelled the in- sinuations of which she had been the victim. Convention- ality, no doubt, has its uses as well as its susceptibilities, but it seems hard that a friendship between persons of opposite sexes can rarely exist without giving rise to malicious inferences : this is regrettable, as it lays an 276 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. unwelcome tax on a description of intercourse which has a special charm for both parties. A French bel esprit La Braye-re with tender subtlety has described it thus : " Ce n'est pas I' amour ; ce rfest pas, non plus, Vamitie ; c'est un sentiment apart." Madame de Stael took a fancy to this discriminating description and appropriated it, since when it has passed for hers. L. E. L., who was born in 1802, died at the early age of thirty- six, and only a few months after her marriage. Her novel Ethel Churchill made a little stir at the time of its publication, when weak novels did not swarm as at present ; but it is probably unrecognized even by name, by the exist- ing generation, nor apparently is her poem the Improvi- satore (published in 1824) any better known. The life of Letitia Elizabeth Landon, like that of the Brontes, was an almost unbroken series of struggles against the decrees of fate. Her earliest years were passed in adversity, for, although orphaned when a mere child, her family, who were in good circumstances, refused in any way to assist her ; this was the more pathetic as the ample competence she should have inherited was either recklessly muddled away or fraudulently misappropriated, and she was left not only without means of support, but without edu- cation. The position which, as " L. E. L.," she ultimately attained in the literary world is the more surprising, that all the knowledge she acquired was the result of self-instruc- tion ; she was remarkably intelligent and very persevering, and was possessed of extremely refined tastes, which materially aided her in planning such a course of reading as should be of the greatest use to her, though her pursuit of learning was necessarily limited by her restricted means ; and the difficulty she experienced in obtaining the books she needed crippled to a great extent her, nevertheless, per- sistent efforts. MRS. TROLLOPE LADY FRANKLIN. 277 There was something very engaging in L. E. L.'s appear- ance, she was by nature rather of a tarne and yielding, than of a spirited, character, though she had certainly not shown herself wanting in energy. She was admired in society, especially by men, but among those w r ho courted her, she did not make a wise choice of a husband. A writer who produced a certain stir during the " thirties" Frances and "forties" was Frances Trollope; born in the last century (1791), she married young, and spent some years in the United States, where she gained experiences of life, especially American life, and, having a lively imagination, turned those experiences into novels, which had a consider- able, if somewhat ephemeral, vogue. Mrs. Trollope could not be considered refined either in appearance or manners, and her mode of expressing herself was rather forcible than elegant ; still she became a small literary lion, and roared amusingly (if not gracefully) in society. A censorious spirit, such as the French would call verve moqueuse, pervaded her conversation as well as her pages, and made her many enemies : she was a keen observer, especially of the weaker side of human nature, and exposed the foibles of her fellow- beings in no very measured form. Her books on society in France, Germany, and Belgium, appear to have fallen into quasi-oblivion. She disappeared from London, and went to live at Florence, some years before her death, which took place in 1863. Lady Franklin, w r hom I knew only somewhat late in her ad y J . Franklin. life, enjoyed a special celebrity, chiefly from her devoted, persevering, and dauntless efforts, to trace and discover the whereabouts of her heroic husband. Although, however, she devoted so much time, thought, and money, to this engrossing object, she did not neglect her old friendships, but continued to maintain a social intercourse w r ith London acquaintances. She had a tastefully decorated house in Kensington Gore, to which she removed from Seamore Place, Park Lane, and held pleasant conversaziones, where 278 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. one often met remarkable people. An agreeable and intelli- gent niece, Miss Cracroft, lived with her, and was her constant and valued companion. I remember, on one occasion, conversing there with some American literati, among whom were the wife and sister of Willis ; the Bishop of Honolulu was also among the com- pany, with two daughters, the younger of whom a young and remarkably pretty girl, born in that outlandish place- had received the slightly unusual name of Howeena- Moweena I Honourable An exceptionally charming old lady was the Honble. Cave" 1 way Maria Otway Cave, eldest daughter of Baroness Braye. The vicissitudes of this ancient title, which dates from 1529, have been curious and romantic. The Barony had fallen into abeyance, on the death (leaving daughters, but without male issue), of John Braye, Second Baron, whose estates, however, these ladies inherited. In 1839 the abeyance was terminated by the issue of Letters Patent in favour of Sarah Otway Cave, only daughter of Sir Thomas Otway. By her marriage with Henry Otway she had four sons, all of whom died without issue, and the title once more fell into abeyance among the five daughters who survived. Three of these ladies pre- deceased their eldest sister Maria, on whose death, in May, 1879, the abeyance again came to an end, and the fifth sister, Henrietta, wife of the Rev. Edgell Wyatt-Edgell, became Baroness Braye. Her enjoyment of the title was, however, of brief duration, for she died in November of the same year, 1879. She was succeeded in the family honours by her eldest son, Edmund Yerney, who never so much as heard of his mother's death, or of his own accession, for he was killed in South Africa in the same year, and his youngest brother, Alfred Thomas Townsend, Fifth Baron Braye (a Catholic), now holds the title ; he has a son and three daughters. It is a curious and melancholy fact that the young HON. MARIA OTWAY CAVE. 279 Captain Wyatt-Edgell, who fell at Ulundi, was the only British officer killed in that engagement. Miss Maria Otway Cave's residence was habitually Stan- ford Hall, Leicestershire ; but she generally visited London during part of the season, much to the delight of her London friends ; though of a quiet, almost retiring, dispo- sition, she was particularly cheerful, bright, and chatty, in society, and, from having been much among interesting people, possessed a variety of authentic contemporary anecdote. Unhappily we are too often content to be enter- tained by such raconteurs, and do not take the trouble to store up the matter that has entertained us, under a vague but erroneous impression, that we can return to it at any moment ; this is a deplorable error which most of us have to lament in our later lives. Who among us does not have to cry out, " Alas ! for my lost opportunities " ? The last time I had a chat with Miss Otway Cave, among many curious little social incidents that came into her talk, I am sorry to say I remember only one, but that is a curious one, viz., the origin of the nomenclature of the Savill-Onleys of Stisted Charles Hall, near Braintree, Essex. The first of the family who bore this name was originally Charles Harvey, Recorder of Norwich, M.P. for Norwich, of Stisted Hall ; considerable property having been left him by a distant relative named Savill, a condition attached to the bequest was, that he should assume the name of the testator, not in addition to, but in place of, his own, i.e., Savill, without prefix or afiix. Strangely enough this condition was expressed with some ambiguity, inasmuch as the testator, who had written the will himself, in expressing his desire that " Charles Harvey's name, and that of his descendants, should thenceforward be Savill, only " had (no doubt inadvertently) written ""only," with a captial " 0." Mr. Harvey's lawyer, feeling that a will in favour of a distant kinsman was liable to be contested, advised his client to avoid any objection that might be raised on the score of nomenclature, by adopting 280 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. the double name of " Savill-Only," which in time became Savill-Onley." It must, however, be supposed that, if there existed other claimants, they were not litigiously disposed ; for the solicitor's advice, as usual, may perfectly well have been given in order to promote, instead of avoid- ing, a lawsuit. It is obvious that, whether the legal suggestion had been adopted or not, there was very good matter here for a ruinous dispute, which would have put money into the pockets of the lawyers, and, as the costs would have " come out of the estate," they might have urged it on successfully , with the help of that fallacious, but often plausible, plea. Princess de Among the remarkable women of her time was none perhaps more remarkable than that artful female politician and Russian spy, Princess de Lieven, who, to gain her ends, scrupled not to become, in their turn, all things to all men ; she tried her blandishments on the Duke of Wellington, and, later on, on Canning, when in office, but with scant success ; when it came to be Earl Grey, she fooled him to the top of his bent : Talleyrand saw it, though others either did not or would not, but the intimacy between this lady and the Premier was only in its infancy in the French statesman's time. The Princess was one of those women who are all the more dangerous for not being beautiful ; her ascendency was obtained by the piquancy of her wit, the brilliancy of her intelligence, and the fascination of her manner, these rather gaining than losing by advancing years. She had been very imperfectly educated, and her reading was not exten- sive, but she was accustomed to Courts, and a shrewd observer of men and their motives, of circumstances and the use to be made of them. She was a born diplomatist, and had a considerable share of initiative, of originality, and determination. There is no doubt she was greatly favoured by events, and when, in 1828, she was appointed Lady in Waiting to PRINCESS DE LIEVEN. 281 the Empress of Russia, she had forty-four years' experience of life on her head. Dorothee de Benkendorf was born in 1784, and in 1800, when only sixteen, married the Prince de Lieven. ; she came to England at the age of eight and twenty, viz., in the memorable year 1812, when the Emperor Alexander allied himself with England to oppose that insane attack of Napoleon, who must have been literally drunk with.success, and blinded by inordinate vanity, to have attempted it. The Prince de Lieven was at that time appointed Russian Ambassador at the Court of St. James's, and, owing to the relations of England with all other Continental nations, he was welcomed with a warmth, and treated with a favour beyond that which would have been manifested towards him under any other circumstances. The Princess was not slow to note this enthusiasm, and to appreciate its value ; she further managed to win the per- sonal favour of the Prince Regent by her gracious recog- nition of the Marchioness of Conyngham, necessarily unpopular with other ladies, but with whom, in pursuance of the policy she saw the wisdom of adopting, she readily showed herself everywhere ; for as Ambassadress, and to serve the interests of the Power her husband represented, she would have justified herself in holding a candle to the Devil. Her plan of campaign was to ingratiate herself into the favour of any one and every one who was in power, and she appears to have made no secret of transferring her friend- ship as occasion required, from the Minister who was yesterday, to him who was to be on the morrow. The malice she always manifested towards Wellington was, no doubt, due to the spretce injuria formce, i.e., to her failure to obtain any ascendency over him by her fascinations ; a brief glance at the tenor of her life suffices to fix one's opinion as to the value of her friendship as friendship ; it was so obviously merely a means to an end. Talleyrand says of the Prince de Lieven, that during his tenure of the French Embassy in 1830-4, " he helped us 282 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. greatly by his loyalty and his resistance to the ill-advised outbursts of anger of the Emperor Nicholas. M. de Lieven," he continues, " has a great deal more ability than is gene- rally supposed ; in this respect, the presence of his wife is detrimental to him, as she effaces him much more than is expedient under the circumstances." The Princess de Lieven and Lady Palmerston cordially hated each other, and lost no opportunity of manifesting their mutual aversion. Frances Lady I have already, when speaking of Braham, referred to his degrave. e j^ er daughter and her many marriages. It was, I think, .when married to her third husband, Mr. Vernon Harcourt, that she settled into the charming residence of classic memory, which once sheltered Horace Walpole, and owed its celebrity to him and his priceless collection, of which she sought in vain to obtain, and restore to their ancient home, any stray objects. Lady Waldegrave was very handsome, and had a most winning manner ; all who enjoyed her courteous and liberal hospitality in this unique historical mansion, surrounded by its quaint and beautiful grounds, have agreed in their charmed description of the spot, and of its mistress, and are unanimous in asserting that as a hostess she had no rival, making herself a favourite with every one, and attracting around her the elite of society. sir Thomas I was once staying at the seat of a near relation in Northamptonshire, when Sir Thomas and Lady Erskine May (afterwards Lord and Lady Farnborough) were among the guests ; they had just been at Strawberry Hill, and Lady May's glowing description of their late hostess, was fully corroborative of my own impression, that she was a perfect Mditresse de Maisoti; always pleasant and bright, considerate alike to all, however numerous the company might be ; possessing infinite tact, consummate taste, and always saying and doing the right thing, and at the right moment ; making every one feel perfectly at home, giving the tone to conversation according to the specialities FRANCES LADY WALDEGRAVE LADY DOUGLAS. 283 whether of intelligence or position of those present, always contriving to bring, or put, together, those most suitable to each other, and arranging the order of the day, so that each guest should have his or her turn at what pleased them best, and all in the most natural and unobtrusive manner, without any appearance of calculation or effort. A remarkable woman, of whose society one never seemed Lady Douglas. to see too much, yet of an altogether different stamp, was Lady Douglas, widow of General Sir Eichard Douglas, who earned his laurels under Wellington in the Peninsular War. Lady Douglas had travelled almost all over the world, taking the keenest interest in everything that she saw; unhappily she became blind, but late in life was successfully couched by Critchett pcre. She retained in old age, as is not altogether unusual, many of the habits which she had contracted during, and in consequence of, her blind- ness, and after her recovery she would often feel her way about with closed eyes, as more sure and expeditious than employing her sight to direct her. A custom she continued, was going downstairs backwards or ladder-fashion. Lady Douglas once gave me the history of a very curious will, assuring me she could vouch for its authenticity, the two men referred to, having been in her late husband's regiment. " These two privates, it seems, were mates and fast friends. On the eve of an engagement, while talking over the chances of war, they came to a mutual understanding that whichever of the two survived the other, should inherit all his belongings. In order to insure the security of the promise they agree to make their wills ; but pens and paper at such a crisis were not to be thought of, and after casting about for an expedient, the best to which they could resort was to make use of a horn lantern they found, and on this they scratched their inten- tions with a rusty nail. It must be admitted the device was ingenious. The battle was fought and one of the men \vas killed ; the other in due course returned to England 284 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. bringing with him the singular document, which by the advice of friends he took to Doctor's Commons, where this abnormal will was proved. But this was not all ; the poor fellow who had succumbed, had, without ever hearing of it, inherited a capital producing ,200 a year, and as the terms of the will left to his comrade all that he owned at the time of his death, the legatee enjoyed a very comfortable inde- pendence." A curious incident arising out of my acquaintance with Lady Douglas was the following : The late learned and justly lamented Dr. Birch was lunching one day at my house, when to my surprise Lady Douglas, whom I supposed to be in Devonshire, was an- nounced. On my introducing them, she no sooner heard the Doctor's name than she exclaimed: " What! Dr. Samuel Birch of the British Museum ! Why, Dr. Birch, I have been dodging you all day ; I must tell you I came up to town from Devonshire on purpose to see you about a case of Australian skulls I sent a few weeks ago to the British Museum addressed to you, and as you had not acknowledged the receipt of them I wanted to ascertain whether they had been delivered ; I went first to the Museum, and not finding you there, I drove to your residence, but only to be again disappointed ; and now that I simply call to pay a visit to my friend here, I have come down upon you by the purest accident and when I least expected to see you ! " The lady, however, had the satisfaction of hearing from Dr. Birch's lips that her skulls were safe. Barry Barry Cornwall (Mr. W. Brian Procter) I once saw, but only after he was very infirm and failing. He lived for a long time in a sort of semi-solitude, in this state seeing no visitors and unable to continue his habits of literary activity. Mrs. Procter, who survived him many years, lived to a great age, and maintained to the last in full force her mental and physical powers and also her social taste for society. Her death was preceded by a very short illness, through which she MRS. PROCTER 285 was nursed by the granddaughter who had been her companion subsequently to the death of Edythe Procter, the only one of her children who continued to share her home, after her husband's death. This daughter and another, Helen, became Catholics, as well as Adelaide Procter, the writer. I saw Mrs. Procter not very long before her last illness, Mrs, Procter, and she certainly had no appearance of having attained the age to which she had arrived; she was, as the saying is, " all there," was fashionably dressed, and her salon being tolerably full, she moved about among her guests and chatted first with one and then with another with all the air of a person who still took an undiminished interest in life and considered she had many years before her. She showed me on that occasion an admirable photo of her daughter Adelaide, of whom she spoke with admiration and affection ; but she impressed one with the idea that she possessed a calm, imperturbable temperament, not given to dwelling needlessly on depressing subjects. I followed her remains to the grave, and was surprised that a woman who had been able during a long life to collect round her so many of the celebrities of her time should have been attended to her tomb by so small a gathering. The Archbishop of Canterbury and Mrs. Benson, Kinglake, one of her oldest friends, Mr. George Smith, her executor, and Madame Parkes Belloc, were among those who, as well as her two surviving daughters and her granddaughter, followed her to the grave. The coffin was of violet velvet, but was nearly concealed under large and beautiful wreaths of choice white flowers. Snow thickly covered the ground, but fortunately for those who walked from the chapel to the grave, none fell at the time. The spot chosen for the grave, in Kensal Green Cemetery, was as close as it could be to the boundary which divides it from the portion set apart for Catholics, so that Mrs. Procter's remains lie within a stone's throw of the grave of her two daughters, Adelaide and Edythe. Mrs. Procter's protracted life made her, as has been said, 286 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. a link between the past and the present ; and as, one by one, her earlier friends dropped away, she lost no opportunity of filling up their ranks with those who succeeded them in the literary and artistic world. Many flocked to her weekly salon as to a common centre of attraction, or as to a surviving relic associated with yesterdays of long ago ; but hardly out of sympathetic communion with their hostess, for they could not have been MES. PROCTER. drawn to her by attributes which she did not possess. Mrs. Procter was not literary, not artistic, not scientific, not a politician, not a linguist ; she did not even speak or under- stand French, and thought it clever to boast she spoke 110 language but her own. From her early youth, nevertheless, Mrs. Procter had been mixed up with the world of art and of letters, and had associated with cultivated and accomplished persons ; she had lived through stirring events events which had passed into history, and had witnessed many MRS. PROCTER. 287 remarkable public incidents ; she had seen the political, literary, and artistic history of a century pass dioramically before her, and could talk of all this with a certain authority, for she enjoyed a prestige almost unique that of having known, more or less intimately, all the people of the century best worth knowing those who had played their part upon the world's stage, leaving name and fame behind them ; and, no doubt, she could have related, from personal experience, something interesting of every one of them. Mrs. Procter assumed exclusiveness as a matter of right, and there were certain literary individuals (of her own sex) whom it was quite understood she did not choose to receive. She had a decided sense of humour, but rarely gave expression to it without acrimony ; accordingly it was not without reason that Thackeray styled her " Our Lady of bitterness." She delighted in society for society's sake, affirming that she never was at a party where she did not find something to interest her, and she must have had experience enough of parties, for she did not seem able to suppose an evening could be spent at home. A friend once condoling with her, on learning from her that she had not been out for weeks, on account of the cold, and remarking how dull it must have been for her to be shut up all that time, she explained " Oh! but of course, I have been out every evening." Her greatest enjoyment was dining out, and she received numberless invitations, though she never gave dinners her- self; indeed, even in the Weymouth Street days, when " Barry Cornwall " was living, the dinners they gave could scarcely be termed dinner-parties, being quite informal and never comprising more than half-a-dozen intimates ; and friends would drop in in a familiar way and have half an hour's chat as they went to or came from other houses : Thackeray constantly looked in on them in this free-and-easy way. ^Irs. Procter did not keep a carriage, indeed her means would not have admitted of her indulging in that luxury, though she was able to live in comfort, and even elegance,. 288 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. in Albert Hall Mansions : she had so many friends who kept carriages and were always glad either to lend her one or to take her out for a drive, that, as she had no objection to avail herself of these facilities, she really did not need a conveyance of her own. Though fond of social gatherings of nearly every descrip- tion, Mrs. Procter could not stand the amateur drama, and being invited to attend a play performed by young ladies and young gentlemen of not very practised abilities, she replied, " Yes, my dear, I'll come if you wish it, but my terms for simple attendance are five shillings, and if I'm expected to applaud, it's seven-arid- six." No doubt many sparkling anecdotes would see the light if Mrs. Procter's memoirs were written, but as she deprecated any such proceeding probably her wish will be respected. Kinglake regularly attended her weekly salon, and many bright conversations passed between them. One day when they were talking of the pertinacity of the sex, Mr. Kinglake gave out as his opinion that if a woman took it into her head to marry a man, she would in some way or another contrive that he should propose it to her, however averse he may have originally been to the idea. "What a pity," replied Mrs. Procter, " that you shouldn't have known me when I was young and free ! " It is not for the outer world to inquire into the religious views and feelings of even a semi-public character unless of one who has more or less openly and controversially expressed opinions on the subject, and this was by no means the habit of the lady under our consideration ; but it may be interesting to know that during her last illness, Mrs. Procter more than once expressed the wish to have prayers read beside her, and that she followed them with reverent attention. The last word she spoke distinctly was, " Pray." I am told by Mr. Edward Walford, that, dining in Eaton Place in the early part of 1887, he took Mrs. Procter in to dinner, and in con- versation she remarked that she hoped she should live to see MADAME MOHL. 289 the Queen's Jubilee, as she was probably one of the few who remembered that of George III., and after witnessing that of his granddaughter, she thought she might say her Nunc dhnittis. This hope was fulfilled, and she enjoyed the further gratification of an invitation to Her Majesty's Jubilee Garden Party at Buckingham Palace, an attention which she felt to be most graceful on the part of the Queen. Mrs. Procter died in the spring of the following year. Another venerable and remarkable old lady to whom the Madame M Vl Queen was very gracious, was Madame Mohl Mary Anne Clarke. In some respects she resembled Mrs. Procter ; but, though she may have rivalled her in longevity, age told upon her much more perceptibly, both morally and physi- cally : Madame Mohl was the widow of M. Jules Mohl, the distinguished Oriental scholar, and continued to the end, to live in the Eue du Bac, where, during so many years she had held her brilliant Mercredis, a literary fossil ; but, as in Mrs. Procter's case, the literary qualification did not apply to herself personally, but to her surroundings. When visiting Paris from time to time, I used to go and see the old lady, at her well-known residence in the old-fashioned quarter, at a very elevated height, and I could perceive on each occasion, a manifest change in her physical as well as her mental condition. She gradually became more wrinkled and more wizened, and whereas Mrs. Procter was admirably conservee to the last, Madame Mohl seemed to have become indifferent to her appearance, or perhaps was unconscious how heavily the hand of time had been laid upon her ; with the decay of her physical powers, her mental faculties became dimmed, and at last she lost the capacity for remembering persons, faces, recent events, and names, though she could still, clearly, and in a lively style, relate long-past incidents. One day I had been conversing with her for some little time, when she suddenly said very politely "You're very agreeable I'm sure, and very good to VOL. i. 20 290 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. come and see me ; but will you kindly tell me who you are?" I mentioned my name, and even alluded to an incident on the occasion of my last visit, but failed to reach her memory ; she appeared puzzled and seemed to be trying to remember ; I then added " Don't you recollect, Madame Mohl, our meeting at the Deanery at Westminster ? " "Ah! yes," she answered at once, "and dear Lady Augusta introduced us ; to be sure ; I remember it all dis- tinctly," and then, as if that name had called up a whole past, she went back to the first meeting of Lady Augusta with Dean Stanley, the romantic circumstances of their fortuitous acquaintance, their courtship, their marriage and the " very considerable share " she always believed she had had in it. It was, no doubt, a curious story, that of the unlooked-for and accidental rencontre in a Swiss mountain inn, whither the two parties on whom it was to produce such enduring results, were respectively driven by fate to take shelter from the sudden storm. Novel writers employ such picturesque incidents, but they have to invent them, and the reader smiles and says, "How unlikely!" "How forced!' Probably they occur oftener than we suppose, in real life, and then we make the most of them and try to help out the circumstances. Madame Mohl was a frequent visitor at the Deanery, and for many reasons was looked on as an interesting survivor of past times. Once, when staying there, Her Majesty expressed a wish to see the old lady before her return to France, and Lady Augusta communicated this gracious Eoyal desire to her guest. A shyness (difficult, however, to account for in one who held a sort of Court of her own, and had so long been an object of interest and regard among litterateurs and savants) impelled her to declare that she felt by no means eqiial to such an interview ; and no persuasions LADY DUKINFIELD. 291 of Lady Augusta's could induce her to go to Windsor. Whether a Winstar of Mahomet and the mountain, or whether the Queen happened to pay a visit at the Deanery, I know not, hut it appears Her Majesty came unexpectedly upon Madame Mohl, who, as it turned out, had much better have attired herself with becoming care, and waited upon the Queen of England in her Royal domain ; for it so hap- pened that the wilful old lady, being quite unprepared for the honour, was wearing a pair of black kid gloves by no means in their premie re jeunesse, and her mind, which should have been at its brightest for such an interview, was entirely occupied with trying to conceal some holes in the fingers of these gloves., and with speculating on the probability that they had not, even then, escaped Her Majesty's observation. M; i dame Mohl has left in Paris the reputation of having been" mauvaise," often* launching out into unamiable innuen- does when speaking of others ; she was less amusing in her insinuations than Mrs. Procter, who had wit enough to veil under a bon mot, the proverbial asperity in which she indulged : such remarks are, however, all the more mis- chievous when presented in a brilliant dress, as they are less likely to be forgotten. Madame Mohl had an excusable horror of boys, and, among other original remarks, used to .say on this subject it was a pity men couldn't come into the world grown up. Among women of this time who attained a vigorous Ion- gevity, may be named Lady Dukinfield (widow of General Sir George Dukinfield), who danced at the famous Brussels hall on the eve of the battle of Waterloo, being then fif- teen. A year or two ago I was at a literary gathering at Mr. Edward Walford's, where I met a niece of this lady's, who told me she had just left her aunt sitting by her fire enjoying a book ; she was, therefore, it appeared, in posses- sion of all her faculties. Yet both these heroines of time fade in importance when vcompared with the mother of Crabb Robinson. A friend of 292 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. mine (The Chisholm) tells me that this old lady used to relate a strange occurrence that took place in the year 1745, when she was a child and attending service in an Unitarian Meeting-house, where, having fallen asleep, she suddenly awoke and interrupted the proceedings by exclaiming, in the hushed stillness of the solemnity, " The red coats are upon us ! " After a moment of terror, investigation showed that the young girl had mistaken the sun-light which happened to shine through a crimson blind, for the scarlet uniforms of the English troops. Unitarians, as such, could have had no special persecution to dread, but the child's mind was probably full of "wars and rumours of wars" in those troublous times. Miss O'Brien. Being many years ago at Lady Henry Paulett's, at West Hill, Hants, I met a lady of rather remarkable character, being one of the two daughters (Gertrude Matilda, and Mary Catherine, O'Brien) of the younger brother of William, second and last Marquis of Thomond, whom he predeceased. As the Marquis left no male issue, this lady, had she been born of the sterner sex, would in due course, have succeeded to the family estates and honours. It was a vexatious mistake of " Providence " who is made responsible for what the world considers its miseries, and Miss O'Brien never forgave Providence. As she could not turn herself into a man to the desired in- tents and purposes, she resolved to make herself as unlike a woman as possible, and succeeded admirably, so far, that when she was met driving, whether a dog-cart or a tilbury (for she disdained any more feminine vehicle), wearing cropped hair, a man's hat and a deep cloth driving cape, none but the initiated would have suspected she could be one of the fair sex. No doubt she was thoroughly convinced of the un- fairness with which nature had used her, and her mode of resentment was at least harmless. It was amusing, when meeting her on the road, to observe the perfectly natural action of her salute, following the fashion of a coachman, MISS O'BKIEN. 293 and elevating the little finger of the whip-hand with a jerk. An Irish Captain (E.N.), discussing this lady's pecu- liarities, remarked, " Ah ! shure it's too late now ; there was only one way out of it, for her she should have heen changed at nurse." MEN OF THE SWORD. 1 But yesterday and who had mightier breath ! A thousand warriors at his word were kept In awe : he said, as the centurion saith, ' Go,' and he goeth ; ' Come,' and forth he stepp'd. The trump and bugle till he spake were dumb, And now ! Naught left him but the muffled drum And they who waited then, and worshipp'd they "With their rough faces thronged about the bed To gaze once more on the commanding clay Which for the last, but not the first time, bled." BYRON. CHAPTER V. MEN OF THE SWOED. " . . . . Claruin et venerabile nomen Gentibus, et multum nostrae quod proderat urbi." LUCAN. ". . . . what deeds of valour unrecorded, died ?" BYRON. fTlHERE is little that could be new to the public, to be Field Marshal JL recorded of Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington Wellington. ". . . . the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of tune." But what little there may be, should still be worth saying, because it may serve to throw a faint flicker on the character of a man of whom his country can scarcely be proud enough. There can hardly ever have been a man of more marked personality than the Duke. His face, once seen, would not easily be forgotten; every feature in it was eloquent of his fine attributes, and there was an underlying dignity in their every movement. If his height was, physically speaking, not commanding, his moral power was mani- fested in every attitude, and so was his unobtrusive con- sciousness of it. Being scarcely above the middle height it was not an advantage to him to be seen on foot, and it was even said that when mounted the " horse and his rider " did not form so graceful a group as might be expected, though his horsemanship was perfect, and his characteristic self-possession always gave him a distin- guished air ; perhaps those who expressed that dissatisfied opinion unconsciously took their idea from the bronze equestrian failures intended to represent him, yet the Duke 298 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. was so often to be met in and about Hyde Park that the London public of the time, had plenty of opportunity to compare the living model with the uncomplimentary effigy. One thing is certain, that wherever the " Iron Duke " might be seen, his presence evoked an eager but respectful recog- nition which he never failed to acknowledge with his stereo- typed salute of two fingers to the brim of his hat. The veneration his presence inspired in men of all ranks, and all nationalities, was not confined to his person, his name alone was a talisman. No doubt the consciousness of this wide- F.-M. THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON, E.G. spread appreciation was gratifying to the object of it, though he is known, on more than one occasion, to have resented its too demonstrative expression ; take, for instance, the following : A " gentleman," who had long been seeking an oppor- tunity of getting remarked by the Duke, one day met him on foot in Piccadilly, and was so absorbed in staring at him that he would have been run over had not Wellington him- self called his attention to his danger ; taking advantage of the opportunity he had so long and eagerly sought, he had the bad taste to follow the Duke home, and, coming up with THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 299 his Grace as he was putting the latch-key into his door, he contrived to say that " He should now always value a life which had been saved by the greatest man that ever existed." The Duke, apparently disgusted with this flunkeyism, pushed the door open and entered, replying curtly and expressively without even turning his head "Don't be a d d fool." This snob probably went away boasting, and perhaps believing, ever after, that he had " held a conversation " with the Duke of Wellington. Notwithstanding the dissatisfaction the Duke gave to his oppositionists, when in office, and that Brougham, finding himself thwarted in his motion for the production of naval instructions about Sardinian ships, went so far as to con- clude a string of invectives against him as soon as he had declared against it, with " Westminster Abbey is yawning for him," not only did his high character continue to command the respect of all honest men even if they dis- agreed with him, but led to very disadvantageous com- parisons between Brougham and himself. " Wise, moderate, and impartial men of all parties," writes Charles Greville, " view the Duke's conduct in its true light and render him that justice, the full measure of which it is reserved for history and posterity to pay. No greater contrast," he continues, " can be displayed than between the minds of Wellington and Brougham.! It is * Yet, on another occasion, Brougham did the Duke more justice, remarking : " That man's object is to serve his country, with a sword if necessary, but he would do it with a pickaxe." He also said, speaking of the Duke's despatches: ' They will be remembered when I and and will be forgotten." Lord Aberdeen repeated this to the Duke, who answered with the greatest simplicity : li That's very true ; when I read them myself I was astonished, and can't think how the devil I could have written them." f Brougham, on one occasion, replying, in the House, with great animosity to a speech of Wellington's, went out of his way to bring in old Lord Rolle, remarkable for his stiff Tory principles ; the latter, who was quite above conventionalities, was so exasperated that, after Brougham had sat down, he v/alked up to the Woolsack and said in loud and distinct tones : " My Lord, I wish, you to know that I have the greatest contempt for you, both in this House and out of it." 300 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. a curious and interesting study to examine and compare their powers, faculties, attainments, the moral and intellec- tual constitutions of the two men, their respective careers, with the results of these, and the world's judgment upon them." As to the Duke's personal influence with the army, there never was any question, but that that was irresistible, magnetic. An interesting instance of this moral power, and of its value, occurred in June, 1820, when a sudden mutiny broke out in the 1st battalion of Horse Guards, and the disaffected men w T ere immediately sentenced to be transferred from the Metropolis to Portsmouth and Plymouth, a punishment which appears to have been keenly felt by the delinquents, who recognized in it a depth of disgrace which filled them with shame. The first half had been thus disposed of without delay, in order to diminish the difficulty of dealing with the whole, as they could not all be sent at once : when the time came to despatch the second detachment, they had orders to be completely equipped and ready to start at four in the morn- ing, and at that hour, on the appointed day, the beat of drums assembled them in the Eoyal Mews ; they were no sooner drawn up than, early as was the hour, the Duke of Welling- ton appeared, mounted on his charger, and followed by a single aide-de-camp. The men stood there with downcast countenances and an air of humiliation ; his Grace rode between the ranks, a sad expression on his features, but spoke not a word his presence was enough, a spontaneous explosion of grief burst from the men, and with tears they exclaimed " God bless the Duke ! God save the King ! We love the good sovereign we serve." The word " March " was given, and they took their way in silent sorrow. The rest of the Guards had not been influenced by the bad example, and remained in a state of perfect discipline. THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 301 Great as was the Duke's popularity, it had its alternations, and the cowardly attack perpetrated on his dwelling by the mob, in 1831, when the Eeform Bill was under discussion, was a lasting disgrace to the Metropolis. Nothing could be more opportune, or more worthy of respect, than the bearing of the Duke whenever he was the object of such mistaken and disgraceful demonstrations ; that with which the mob thought fit to attack him in the year 1832, on the very anniversary of the victory of Waterloo was, perhaps, the most cowardly and the most contemptible. The profound respect the Duke's character commanded was due to the fact which his worst enemies never attempted to refute, that he stood alone in patriotism and disinterested- ness. It has never been denied by any one that there perhaps never was a man who so completely laid aside all party and personal considerations when any national object was in view; and, says Charles Greville, " he had the satisfaction and the glory of living to hear this universally acknowledged." I was talking lately of past events in and around Hyde Park to an old gentleman, when he told me that he, like myself, was an eye-witness of a curious incident connected with one of these unseemly riots. Some years after the above-named out- rage there was a Grand Eeview in the Park before the Duke,, who was enthusiastically received. As he rode home after it was over, he was followed by the immense crowd, unanimously cheering him, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and exhibit- ing every possible manifestation of appreciation and affection. The great Field Marshal rode on, apparently unconscious that all these expressions of regard were intended for himself, although those who scrutinized his genial features might have detected in them a curious expression at once of humour and pity. At length he reached Apsley House, and a fresh burst of enthusiasm broke out ; then . . . the " con- quering hero " gave the first indication that he recognized the intention of these acclamations, but only by silently :302 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. raising his hand and waving it towards the iron shutters. Those barred windows, a memento of the injurious treat- ment of England's greatest hero, which ought to bring a blush to the cheek of every Briton, have now, for sixty years, borne their silent testimony to the brutality of the London mob. When the Duke was Premier, and enjoying the confidence, successively, of George IV. and William IV., the envy of his political opponents was manifested with much bitterness. 'The mean jealousy of which he was the object has been betrayed with surpassing candour in that singular corre- spondence arising from the still more singular and gushing intimacy between Lord Grey and that clever and insinu- ating intrigante, his "Dearest Princess" de Lieven ; the hatred and malice entertained by this pair against the Duke are, throughout the greater part of these volumes, more evident than edifying. The sobriquet by which they derisively designate the Duke in their communications, is "The great Captain." Their politics being opposed to his, it is, perhaps, only natural they should cavil at his statesmanship ; but there is so much acrimony and invidiousness in the tone they both adopt when speaking of him, that it savours of personal pique, and leads the reader to conclude that their disap- proval of his policy does not proceed entirely from noble and disinterested sentiments. Nor can the reader, with the best will in the world, satis- factorily explain to himself the manifest pertinacity with which Lord Grey and his partisans tried, more or less openly, to spread the idea that the Sovereigns, who suc- cessively trusted Wellington with the helm of government, neither believed in him nor loved him, but simply desired to retain him because they were afraid of him ; indeed Lord Grey and his party scarcely disguised their determination to throw discredit on any measures adopted by the Duke, bent .as they were on embarrassing and undermining the Cabinet TALLEYRAND'S OPINION OF WELLINGTON. 303 he had formed : .the ulterior object, after overthrowing the Government by these machinations, it is not difficult to guess. Lord Grey says that Louis Philippe, before he came to the throne, told him confidentially " he did not care for Wellington, and did not think much of his diplomacy," and it certainly seems too much to expect that a consummate general should also be a consummate statesman; neverthe- less, Talleyrand, himself renowned in the latter capacity, and great enough, therefore, to afford his admiration for what he was too clever not to discern in others, went so far as to assert that "he considered Wellington, take him for all in all, the greatest man that had ever been produced in any age or country." Talleyrand's opinion, too, was formed, not on historical knowledge of his superiority as a warrior, but from personal observation of his straightforward prin- ciples, calm judgment, and intrepid determination in diplo- matic dealings for Talleyrand was Ministre des Affaires Etrangeres when Wellington, as English Ambassador, was in Paris in 1814-15, and the dignity of the Duke's conduct on every occasion, produced on that astute and far-seeing statesman a profound impression, while it raised the prestige of the whole English nation, in the estimation of France. Talleyrand's career was among those which are full of interest and end by commanding admiration. It is not always true that " the boy is father of the man " : had we stopped short in the middle of Talleyrand's history, and had said, " We don't need to see any more of it," we should have formed a very erroneous opinion of that re- markable not to say that great man. The closing years of his life convinced the world that there was an underlying stratum in his character, which, after circumstances had elicited it, materially modified the view that had been taken of much of his earlier life. Charles Greville, who had the best opportunities of knowing, affirms, from personal experience, that " his age 304 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. was venerable, his society delightful, and there was an exhibition of conservative wisdom, ' of moderate and healing counsels,' in all his thoughts, words, and actions, very becoming to his years and station, vastly influential from his sagacity and experience, and which presented him, to the eyes of men, as a statesman like Burleigh or Claren- don, for prudence, temperance, and discretion. Here, there- fore, he acquired golden opinions, and was regarded by all ranks and all parties with respect, and by many with sincere regard : when attacked in the House of Lords, Wellington rose in his defence, and rebuked the acrimony of Talley- rand's own friends : Talleyrand was deeply affected by this behaviour of the Duke's." It is with surprise we find, notwithstanding his con- stant and multifarious communication with foreign nations, and the terms of friendty understanding on which he was with their greatest men, that the Duke never succeeded in really mastering any Continental language so as to be able to converse in it. Spanish, he perhaps, knew best, and of Italian he had a partial knowledge ; but his French was deplorable ; the accent was altogether that of a native of England ; and his idiomatic blunders were often so ludicrous that, but for the great respect commanded by his person, his character, and his position, those who listened would never have been able to keep their countenance ; neither does it appear that his frequent and protracted residences in France were of any help in the acquisition of the language. Wellington's voice was not made for oratory, whether as to tone, quality, or power. It was weak and wiry, not to say shrill, and was not distinctly heard at a distance unless when he shouted in the field. He was also deficient in fluency. Nor was he master of action, generally confining himself to striking the table, but without violence, when he wanted to emphasize his discourse. The Duke's humour was very characteristic, and he seems to have been always THE DUKE'S MABRIA.GE. 305 ready with a repartee when such was required. His reply to George IV., when His Majesty appealed to him as to whether it was not he himself who had gained the victory at Waterloo was admirable ; to not one man in a hundred, perhaps, would it have occurred to make so witty, and at the same time so judicious, respectful, and unanswerable a reply; scarcely more apt, however, than his answer to a young (probably very young) lady, who asked him if it were true that he was surprised at Waterloo. " No, my dear," he answered with a smile, " but I am, now ! " When the Rev. W. J. E. Bennett, of St. Barnabas memory, was incumbent of St. Paul's, Knight sbridge, the Duke of Wellington (as well as the Duke of Cambridge) might be constantly seen at the services there, and the former frequently walked over from Apsley House to attend the week-day morning prayer. There are some curious and interesting revelations of the Duke's domestic life in a rare volume of Maria Edge- worth's Correspondence, printed for private circulation only, and to the number of but fifty copies. She supplies much detail about the matrimonial episode in Wellington's existence, telling of his early engagement, when young, and before he went to India. His fiancee was the Hon. Catherine Pakenham, daughter of Lord Longford (better known as " Kitty Pakenham "). Time had passed, however, and, alas ! with it, much of the lady's youth and beauty, when, early in the century, the Duke returned to England. It would seem also that the early affection of the affianced pair had, from these or other causes, lost some of its pristine fervour ; but, notwithstanding this, and the ravages of the small-pox, which had greatly disfigured the lady, the Duke remained true to his promise, and they were married in 1806, two sons being born of the marriage. The Duchess fell into ill-health some time before her death, in 1813 ; and when she was very ill, she begged to be carried down into the spacious room at Apsley House, VOL. i. 21 306 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. adorned with so many of her husband's panoplies and trophies of war, and there she desired she might remain till her death, which took place as she lay surrounded by all these mementos of his glory. The Duke delighted in field sports, and was especially partial to fox-hunting. His opinion of its effects on the habits and character can be guessed from the fact that he always chose his aides-de-camp, if possible, among fox- hunters, considering that " they knew how to ride straight to a given point, that they generally rode good horses, and were equally willing to charge, whether a big place or an enemy." The Duke was not only fond of fox-hunting, but gave it liberal encouragement. Having heard that there was a sudden defalcation in the funds supporting a pack to which he subscribed, and being told that the indifference of the other contributors was such as to lead to but little expecta- tion that they would make up the deficiency, he said,. " Well, get what you can from them, and I will make up the difference." The sum he was thus let in for, turned out. to be <600 a year. He maintained a mutually-sincere and familiar friendship with Assheton Smith. The following is a characteristic letter of the Duke's, addressed to that king of the chase in reply to an invitation to Tedworth, where he often stayed : " APSLEY HOUSE, 11, 1840. " MY DEAE SMITH, I have received your note. I attend in Parliament four days in the week ; at the Ancient Mu sick on Wednesdays. There remain Sundays and Satur- days. Every animal in the creation is sometimes allowed a holida} 7 ", except the Duke of Wellington. There the days. are ; take any Saturday or Sunday that you like, " I should certainly like to have occasionally a day's leisure while the Ancient Concerts are going on, and the- THE DUKE'S HABITS. 307 pressure of Parliamentary business is so heavy ; but my convenience, likings or dislikings, have nothing to do with the matter ; they are not worth discussing, and I should prefer anything to a discussion on the subject. Remember me most kindly to Mrs. Smith. " Ever yours most sincerely, "W." The Duke was often asked by any host at whose house he might be staying, to narrate one of his battles, and generally consented with great amiability and readiness ; he would often become very animated while speaking, and the relation of these stirring episodes brought every one in the room round him. Charles Greville mentions a visit he paid at Wilton House, the Duke being one of the guests, and one evening when he had been prevailed on to relate the battle of Toulouse, there were many present, and he was soon completely surrounded. To Greville's vexation he never learnt what was going on till it was over, for he adds, " I was playing at whist, and lost it all ! " In September, 1840, it was first remarked that the Duke \vas manifesting signs of advancing years, not only physically, by stooping and walking unsteadily, but by an irritability of temper quite new to him. Every one he met, naturally looked at him, for all were interested in his health and the continuance of his life ; it was never a rude stare, and the glance was always accompanied by a lifted hat. Occa- sionally people would venture to address him ; and to a woman who one day tried to speak to him he said, " Do me the favour, madam, to write to me," moving on quickly to escape her further pursuit. However, those who wrote to him latterly, did not even secure, as in former days, an autograph of "F. M. the Duke of Wellington," for he had become too old to continue the practice of inditing and sending these answers, and ended by ordering lithographed replies to be returned. 308 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. The Duke's moroseness at this time formed a striking contrast to his former geniality ; and whereas he had always responded with evident gratification to the eager- ness of every one to consult him and to act on his advice, in private, as well as in public, matters, he began to show a strange disposition for solitude and isolation, as if he wearied of intercourse with the world and felt its irksomeiiess. It is humiliating to our common nature to note the -humiliation of a great man ; but it is also instructive, and impresses on us the suggestive fact that the greatest of us is but human. The melancholy decadence of the Duke's grand moral attributes, as he gradually glided into what may be almost termed senility, was the more remarkable as compared with the elevation his character had attained in universal estimation ; it may be said that the whole tenor of his life, with its heaped-up and well-merited honours "... numerosa parabat Excelsae turns tabulata, uncle altior erat Casus." Like the Archbishop of Granada, the Duke does not seem to have been conscious of his increasing infirmities (of which no Gil Bias ventured to apprize him) and of their effect on his efficiency for services which his fine sense of duty still urged him to render to his country; but it is probable that a vague consciousness of them caused that irritability of temper which frequently manifested itself in un- diplomatic expressions from his lips, and evidences of strong and unchastened feeling in his political correspondence- all entirely at variance with the policy and the principles which had ruled every act of his previous life. Besides this irascibility, the morbid change in his tastes and habits became as remarkable as distressing. The Duke's popularity never was affected by these evidences of age, which, however, are pretty freely recorded, even by his greatest admirers, in the political memoirs of THE DUKE'S POPULARITY. 309 the time. Wherever he went, he still remained in the popular mind, " the conquering hero," and was acclaimed as such. At a choral meeting of Hullah's at Exeter Hall, in June, 1842, at which Queen Adelaide was present (and was received with a hearty recognition, for she was always a favourite), the Duke came in at a very late period of the entertainment. His Grace's entry was the signal for a unanimous demonstration. The singers suddenly stopped in the middle of a bar, and the organ at once played " See the Conquering Hero Comes." The whole audience stood, as the fine, but now infirm, old man walked up to his seat, while a loud peal of cheers, and a universal waving of hand- kerchiefs announced to him the cordiality of the welcome ; but he maintained a dignified calmness, although all pre- sent, men as well as women, were more or less affected. After the first break observed in the Duke's moral and physical condition, his former vigour of mind seems to have returned to him, at least for a time, for in 1843 he took everybody by surprise by his hearty appearance, and by the vigour of the speech he made early in the Parliamentary season on Indian affairs ; though he seems to have wavered considerably in the view he took of Lord Ellenborough's conduct in the Afghan war. With this, at first sight, he had expressed himself much displeased, but after further investigation, he changed his opinion, and declared he intended to defend it. This improved condition of mind and body does not, however, appear to have been permanent, for by 1846 the Duke had once more relapsed into a state of irritability of temper, deplorable in so great a man, though not perhaps unusual with those who arrive at so advanced an age, and he again indulged in a prolixity of words and vehemence of expression quite at variance with the reticence, discretion, and self-command, which had always sustained the dignity of his character. Portraits of the Duke are so abundant that one wonders at the benevolent patience with which he consented to 310 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. sacrifice himself in order to favour the majority of the artists who produced them, for we know there were few, if any, of these soi-disant " likenesses " that satisfied him. As to the equestrian figure which so long disfigured Hyde Park Corner, his indignation at the "enormous absurdity" was none the less that he was obliged to suppress it, but much as he would have liked to defeat this " abominable job," he had no means of appealing against it ; for, as he said, "his lips were sealed," and so it went through. The whole matter was arranged by Sir F. French, who planned the statue, the locale, and the place whereon it was perched, and selected Wyatt as the artist. It was on the 27th of June, 1838, that this atrocity was perpetrated. January 7, 1840, Haydon had the honour of painting his equestrian portrait of the Duke, and says in a letter to Lord Melbourne : " Since I had the pleasure of seeing you, the last day of the Session, I have spent some days at Walmer with the Duke of Wellington and I was highly delighted with him. " Nobody need wonder at his military success who hears him talk, or reads his despatches. The sound practical reasons he gives for many of his proceedings in Spain show his sagacity and his genius, and he tells a story better than any man I ever heard, not excepting Sir Walter Scott. He gave me sittings for himself, imagined to be on the field of Waterloo with Copenhagen, twenty years after the battle." It was about 1846 that d'Orsay's portrait of the Duke was engraved and published. It seems strange that he should have preferred it to any other. It must be conceded that, as his Grace explained, it represented him, " for the first time, as a gentleman," but surely the fine spirited portrait of Sir Thomas Laurence is preferable, representing him as a warrior. However, such was the Duke's own opinion, and he declared " he would never sit to any one again." D'Orsay's portrait of the Duke is pleasing, and has a value among other portraits, but would be very unsatis- FIELD MABSHAL His GRACE THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON, K.G. , &c., &c. (Painted by Count d'Orsay.) THE DUKE'S POKTRAIT. 311 factory were it the only one we had of Wellington, for it certainly supplies only one phase, and that not the most typical, of his character. Neither can it be considered artistic in arrangement, or correct, anatomically speaking, and would never pass for the work of any but an amateur a distinguished amateur, we may admit. D'Orsay took immense pains with this portrait (which I have already mentioned). In a letter addressed to B. R. Haydon on the subject of it, he writes, in somewhat quaint English : " . . . I am very proud of your approbation ; I was tired to see the Duke dressed as a corporal or a policeman (as Pickers- gill painted him), therefore I did choose the dress you approve, as being very elegant and exact and suited for what I intended. As to the hands, I did prefer to think of his than Yandyk's, as the characteristic of his hands are very bony ; so much so that many of his friends told me they could recognize his hands if the top of the picture was hidden. Yours faithfully, " COUNT D'OESAY." David Wilkie, in a very interesting letter, in which he describes with picturesqueness and simplicity a visit paid to his studio, in 1816, by a party consisting of the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, Lady Argyle, Lord Lynedoch, and the Duke of Wellington, makes some noteworthy remarks on the last-named. " . . . None of his portraits are likenesses; he is younger and fresher, more active and lively, and in his figure more clean-inade and firmer built than I was led to expect. His face is in some respects odd ; has no variety of expression, but his eye is extraordinary, and is almost the, only feature I remember, but I remember it so well that I think I see it now. It has not the hungry and devouring look of Bona- parte, but seems to express in its liveliness, the ecstasy that an animal would express in an active and eager pursuit." 312 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. All the Wellesley family were more or less musical. As. to the Marquis of Wellesley, he was at home in all knowledge and in all the fine arts. The Duke was a generous and appreciative patron of artistes, loved the Ancient and Phil- harmonic concerts, which he sedulously patronized, was a constant habitue of the opera, in his well-known stall- always at the end of the row and received with the most graceful amiability, whether at Apsley House or at Strath- fieldsaye, the first-class members of the musical profession, Grassini,* Pasta, Malibran, Persiani, and Grisi won the Duke's warmest admiration, and finding that Viardot was not appre- ciated by the English public according to her merit, he did his utmost to encourage her. Ella basked in the ducal smiles ; Braham revelled in the sunshine of the great man's- cordial approbation ; Lablache was always treated as a friend ; and Tamburini was a frequent and welcome visitor at Strath- fieldsaye : he happened to be staying there, at the moment of the " Tamburini riots." The Duke never hesitated to testify his satisfaction at any kind of musical performance which gave him pleasure, and the opportuneness and heartiness of the applause he be- stowed, indicated the profoundness of his knowledge of music and the purity of his taste. When, in July, 1838, Lord Burghersh produced one of his operas at the St. James's Theatre, it was amusing to see the frolicsome spirit in which the Duke took the lead in calling for the Maestro, at the close of the performance ; and the more shyly the noble composer persisted in remaining hidden in a remote corner of his box, the more determined was the Duke to have him out and get him on the stage. Whenever the calls of the rest of the audience began to flag, there came an immediate reinforcement from the Duke, who applauded more vehemently than any one when his lordship at last * It was said that the Duke and Napoleon were both enthusiastic and rival admirers of Madame Grassmi. THE MARQUIS OF DOURO. 313 appeared, but hugging the wing, and hastily retreating when bouquets fell at his feet. The Duke's death took place at Walmer Castle in Sep- tember, 1852. I am unable, personally, to describe the lying in state and funeral of the great hero, as I was not in England at the time ; every detail of this national event, however, has been so profusely and elaborately published that there is nothing to be added. The Marquis of Douro was an expert connoisseur in art, The Marquis of Douro. " THE DUKE'S " EOOM AT WALMER, WUEBE HE DIED. and especially in music, taking great pleasure in the society of accredited professionals, often honouring with his pre- sence their private musical gatherings, patronizing their public concerts, and showing much judgment in his appre- ciation of musical talent. The Marquis was in many ways eccentric, and was especially remarkable in his dress, in which he affected something more than simplicity of style. One day, when thus shabbily attired, he was wandering in a lost kind of way near the Marble Arch, when a club friend, 314 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. passing that way, caught sight of him, and accosting him, asked what could have brought him there. " Why, the fact is," he replied, "I'm looking for a stationer's shop ; I used a capital pen at a friend's house the other day, and on inquiry, found it came from a place they called Hammond's, in the Edgware Road ; do you know it ? ' " No, I don't," said his friend, " but let us walk along the Eoad ; it will be hard if, between us, we don't find it." So they walked on till they reached the shop, where the Marquis, having asked for the pens in question, an assortment was laid before him. He was proceeding to open a packet, when the shopman, who does not seem to have recognized him, or was, perhaps, no respecter of persons, informed him that that could not be allowed. The shopwalker, however, was more wide awake, and discovering the identity of his customer, told the man to let him do as he pleased. Having selected what he required, he drew out an extraordinarily shabby little purse to pay for his purchase ; it was, in fact, so dilapidated that other customers standing by, could not help noticing its condition : so dirty was it that few people would have picked it up in the street, and certainly would not have expected to find it contained anything ; nor did it, beyond a shilling or two mixed up with coppers. Whether it was such eccentricities as these or some other cause that irritated the Duke, we know not, but there must have been some cause for his disapproval, of which he made no secret. One day, Lord Macaulay, seeing among a number of caricatures on his Grace's table, several of himself, asked him if he did not object to them. " Xo," said the Duke, looking in a special direction, "that's the only caricature I object to." It was said that the Marquis made a point of collecting all the cartoons and even caricatures of his father as they came out, and enjoyed the fun of showing them to his friends. THE DUKE AND NAPOLEON. 315 When speaking of the Marquis's eccentricities, it seems only fair to recall the fact that he had many fine qualities, but, as is too often the case with the sons of celebrated fathers, if these attributes were overlooked, it was probably that too much was expected of him as the son of such a father. However " odious " comparisons may be, the human mind persists in instituting them, and a man needed broad shoulders indeed, to carry the title of second Duke of Wellington ! Nevertheless, the second Duke had warm friends and admirers, and foremost, perhaps, among them was the late Lord Houghton. It used to be said that there was unusual stiffness in the relations between the Duke and his children. His instincts were, however, essentially military, and if he treated them more like subordinates than sons, allowance must be made for his notions on discipline, which from long habit and professional necessity, had become part of his nature. It is a remarkable fact, worth mentioning perhaps here, that the great Duke and Napoleon never saw each other. The nearest approach to a meeting was when Napoleon was at Quatre-Bras, within a quarter of a mile of the spot where his illustrious adversary was then stationed. It should be said that the Duke always did full justice to Napoleon's military genius, which he pronounced transcendent. I have seen two very graphic accounts of the closing struggle of the battle of Waterloo, when, for a moment, there was actually a doubt as to which of the two forces would carry the day, and there can be no question but that the influence which turned the scale at this critical moment was the prestige of the Duke's splendid generalship. A word from his lips, even a glance from his eye, was enough to reanimate flagging courage, to inspire confidence, and restore enthusiasm, and thus to insure the success of any movement, however desperate, which he might command. One of the accounts I speak of and both narrate the same 316 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. incidents was written by a German, Gneissen, the other by the Spanish General Alava, both eye-witnesses of the stirring scene they describe, and both most appreciative admirers of the Duke's heroic courage and calm intrepidity. The farm of La Belle Alliance albeit a miserable hut became a remarkable spot on the field of that memorable engagement. There it was that Napoleon watched the battle, and thence that he gave his orders to the guards. Under its roof he gloated over his conviction of a victorious issue, and there also was it that he first faced the fact of his defeat and ruin. In this farm-house hardly vacated by the French usurper LA BELLE ALLIANCE. took place the meeting of Wellington and Blucher, when they saluted each other as victors, and it was in memory of this most interesting incident that, by the mutual consent- of these great Generals, it obtained the name of La Belle Alliance. Alava's simple narrative pictures the Duke as first rallying the Brunswickers whose ranks had been completely shattered by the French Guards, but who at the sound of his voice, at once pulled themselves together and rushed on the foe- Wellington then turned his attention to the British Foot Guards, heading them, and directing their movements with THE DUKE AT WATERLOO. 317 his hat ; the writer describes the effect of this fearless attitude as calling from the men at once a loud and general hurrah, with which they went forward at the charge of the bayonet, and came to close action with the Imperial Guard these at once retreated, almost without resistance, and speedily took to flight. It was, in fact, the most com- plete rout that ever occurred in the history of battles ; even that at Yittoria could not be compared with the stampede that followed and decided the day. General Alava states that when the fighting ceased, it was found that, of the whole group of which they formed part, he and the Duke alone, were left standing ; the rest were all either killed or wounded, while both they and their horses remained absolutely scathless. "The Duke," he writes, "looked down upon the field, and when he saw so many valued friends and faithful com- panions, so many brave and gallant men stretched motionless around him, tears of emotion started to his eyes and stole down his noble face." Napoleon's carriage * had stood on the field, and when he quitted it somewhat precipitately, to mount his horse, he left his sword and hat within it ; it was immediately taken by the English along with two guns. If I call into these pages my recollections of a truly typical British-Indian officer of the soldier-civilian class, R.E..C.B. John Eeid Becher, E.E., C.B., it is not because we were children together and he remains, therefore, associated with the little joys and sorrows of my early days; not because on his return from his active and brilliant career in India (where he became one of Henry and John Law- rence's glorious Punjaub Staff), he was, till his lamented death, my guide, my counsellor, and friend; nor yet be- cause, albeit unconsciously, he exercised a mysterious * Napoleon's carriage was a curious and characteristic meuble, elaborately fitted up under his own instructions, and supplied with every article he could possibly require. It was exhibited in London some years ago. 318 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. fascination over every one, of whatever age, rank, or class, who approached him ; but because his career forms part of a very interesting epoch in the history of British India, and in his public capacity he shines as a luminary obscured solely by his own modesty to show to those to come after him what should be the noble ambition of a conscientious mind ; John Becher was nothing if not conscientious, and GENERAL JOHN EEID BECHER, E.E., C.B. (One of Sir Henry Lawrence's Old Punjaiib Stafl.) his lofty conception of duty made that conscientiousness subservient to everything but his honour. His career was an apt illustration of Buskin's remark that " the nobleness of life depends on its consistency, clearness of purpose, and quiet and ceaseless energy." From the age of sixteen, when he left Addiscombe, his energies were unreservedly devoted to his country's sendee, and his name, as well as those of GENERAL J. E. BECHER. several brothers, will be found largely intermingled with the history of British India. Adored by his subordinates, loved by his equals, because, as Colonel Yule has said, " no one could help loving him,"" trusted by his superiors in command, John Becher, always- true as steel, passed a life of laborious and ungrudging work, unobtrusive, disinterested, and helpful to the last. Following in the steps of his " most approved master and friend" as he loved to style Sir Henry Lawrence, he acted in all things as if he sought no more than to win that grand but brief and pathetic epitaph which Sir Henry so nobly dictated for his own tomb : " HERE LIES HENRY LAWRENCE, WHO TRIED TO DO HIS DUTY." Alas ! for those who prized him, John Becher (like him whose virtues he emulated), more than "tried to do his; and regardless of all but the work before him, literally sacrificed a life, the value of which could be estimated by those alone who knew what he was. His epitaph might have been " THIS WAS A MAN," and the lantern of Diogenes might have been broken on his grave. To have enjoyed the privilege of his friendship, I, and many others, appreciated as one of the compensations of life ; to have survived it, as one of its hardest trials. His was a noble heart, according with a naif earnestness, and Rr simplicity absolutely touching, all praise and all merit to companions and rivals, and never seeming to recognize that either the one or the other was due to himself. Duty was the watchword of his brave and magnanimous career, and that he pursued his work with loving earnestness, because it was a matter of duty, is revealed in John Lawrence's fivquent recommendations to him (such as he 320 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. was never known to address to any other subaltern) " Don't work too hard." The value of such words in the month of Lord Lawrence, is better understood when we read Sir Herbert Edwardes's appreciation of the severity of the Governor- General's character. " We all think it a defect," he says, " in John Lawrence, that he praises no one ; but I acquit him of all mean and selfish motive in it : ... it is a principle of his not to praise public servants lest it should ' put wind in their heads.' " Sir Henry Lawrence writing to Sir John Kaye, eays : " I was very fortunate in my assistants, all of whom were my friends : they are men such as you will seldom see amj- where ; but, collected under one administration, they were worth double and treble the number, taken at haphazard. Each was a good man and an excellent officer." Henry Lawrence's original Punjaub staff consisted of " James Abbott, John Reid Becher, L. Bowring, Arthur Cocks, Edward Lake, George Lawrence, Harry Lumsden, George McGregor, John Nicholson, Eeynell Taylor. All rare men who have done great deeds for India's good, and whose names will live in history a noble brotherhood." Lord Lawrence well knew the value of such an auxiliary as Becher, and so knew Sir Henry, one of whose most valuable attributes as an officer was his discrimination in recognizing merit, and his habit of rewarding it as soon as possible : they and Becher were on terms of close intimacy, and even after the distinguished brothers had unhappily parted never to meet again, standing proudly aloof from each other, "Like cliffs that have been rent in sunder," John Becher continued, till their respective deaths, the dearly prized friend of both. The prestige of that splendid "Punjaub Staff" of which John Becher was one of the foremost, was as well merited as universally recognized, and there was not one of these, any more than of the rest of his brother-officers, but felt GENERAL BECKER'S EARLY PROMISE. 821 drawn towards him, and spoke of him in the most enthu- siastic terms. " He was from boyhood," wrote Colonel Yule in a bio- graphical memoir drawn up with a loving hand, "the most winning of mankind ; few were aware what an accomplished linguist, and what a clever artist he was ; but he possessed gifts far more rare, and even as a cadet at Addiscombe, and as a ' local and temporary ensign ' (!) there was in him a gaiety, a brilliancy, a play of fancy in his conversation, which attracted men and women equally, and which in com- bination with his bright, chivalrous aspect, his open blue eye, and silken curls of ruddy gold, have left on me an impression of Becher as he was in his youth, absolutely unique of its kind ; whilst the charm of his society and his sweet nature only grew with time, and the old impression constantly recurred during our too rare meetings in his later years." Major-General Collinson, writing of this brave and devoted officer after his lamented death, says in a private letter : " My intimate knowledge of Becher was, as you know, confined to those early days, but I feel I knew him as well as if we had been together all our lives. I believe the real character of a man comes out in his youth, though we do not perceive it at the time, or perhaps he and I understood each other better than is usual. " But every one of his contemporaries at Chatham ad- mired and respected John Becher. His lively spirit, his frank and genial nature, his simple, open character, and unalterable good temper ; his great intelligence and imagina- tion, and his thoroughly^ innocent and gentlemanly ways made every one of us, of whatever character, wish to be his friend and companion. Not one who was there would ever cease to remember with delight, his lithesome figure and bright, expressive face crowned with his golden hair. . . . " When we perpetrated the enormity of getting up a series of plays in the absence of our guide and ruler, I believe it VOL. i. 22 322 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. was the winning character as well as the clever performance of our two leading artistes Becher and Tylden that softened the practical heart of Pasley when the misde- meanour was reported to him." It would be beyond the limits of a general record to give in detail, even such particulars as I possess of John Becher's. laborious but brilliant career. His biography, as sketched by the picturesque and masterly pen of his friend and brother- officer, the accomplished Colonel Sir Henry Yule,, forms a most interesting episode in Anglo-Indian history, besides revealing to us a character the nobleness of which calls for our admiration at every paragraph. The wound which John Becher received in the mouth, at Sobraon the glorious scar of which he carried to the grave was perhaps the least serious injury he incurred through his devotedness to the work he had undertaken. The years, of active occupation he passed under the two Lawrences,, during which he rendered to his country services such as continually obtained honourable mention in the despatches,, began to tell so severely on his constitution that he really became unfit for the labour to which he however still clung,, working on, not only uncomplainingly, but so cheerfully as to deceive those about him as to the declining state of his. health. His brother the late Sir ArthurBecher,B.A.,K.C.B., him- self another hero told me that he protracted his daily work to so late an hour that when he ceased, he was quite unfit to enjoy in social intercourse the short period that remained of the evening, until he had taken a small dose of opium, after which he started like a new man. This, of course, meant, utter destruction, and at last he was compelled to give in. Nevertheless, so valuable had been his twenty years' service- in the Punjaub, that Sir Eobert Montgomery attributed to it (speaking of him as "dear John Becher"), u the peace of that important district and the loyalty of the Chiefs in 1857," he having been the district officer there; SIR H. LAWRENCE'S PUNJAUB STAFF. 323 from 1853. Even at this time his health had been seriously affected by the close and undeviating attention demanded by this arduous and responsible position, and when he con- sented to assume the district duties, he felt discouraged by the faint prospect he saw of his being able to discharge them with any degree of satisfaction. He was to succeed the able, experienced, and popular General James Abbott, who was literally worshipped at Hazara ; at the same time, Becher, on his part, was leaving a people he had attached to himself so tenderly, that when he moved from Battala to take up his residence at Hazara, they followed him out of the town in crowds, weeping, clinging to him, and invok- ing blessings on his head. He told me he was altogether unmanned on this trying occasion, and hardly knew how he tore himself away. Mr. Raikes has written "Becher was the first specimen of Henry Lawrence's 'old staff' in the Punjaub that I came across, and I looked at him and his work with curiosity, wonder, and admiration, a noble specimen of India's hard- working administrators and dauntless soldiers, entirely devoted to the service of the people, going in and out among them from morning till night, while these crowded their quarters and gave them no respite." When we read in a letter of Sir E. Pollock's, that, 11 Work, varying only in kind, seemed to occupy twenty hours out of the twenty-four of Becher 's day," we are scarcely surprised he should add, " it seemed strange to me how any mortal being could so completely sacrifice himself." This officer goes on : " He hardly paused to eat or sleep, and yet whenever he could extricate himself from his official surroundings, he talked as few men could talk, and was better company and better informed on general subjects than most men." "His house at Dera," he continues, "like his house at Peshawar, indicated his life ; there were books and papers, notes and abstracts, maps and sketches (English and native) 324 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. all over the place. I never saw such voluminous notes nor better ; his patience was inexhaustible, and it need hardly be added that his arrears were heavy (!) life being really too short for the sort of inquiry he conscientiously considered indispensable in each case. " As for the people at Hazara, General Abbott had petted them to such an extent that he was known among them only as ' Baba Abbott,' and during his rule, which extended GENERAL JAS. ABBOTT, R.A., C.B. from 1849 to 1853, exiles driven out by the Sikhs, twenty, thirty, forty years before, had flocked back to Hazara where his work has literally immortalized him, and the district had passed from howling desolation to smiling prosperity ; moreover he spent all his substance on them ; and to his glory be it said, he left Hazara with only his month's pay in his pocket. " Well may Sir Herbert Edwardes have written, ' The BECKER'S SERVICES DURING THE MUTINY. 325 story of Abbott in Hazara is one which no Anglo-Indian, no Englishman surely, can read without a glow of pride.' " He also relates that Abbott's last act before leaving the district was to invite the country, not the neighbours but all Hazara, to a farewell feast on the Nara Hill ; and there for three days and nights he might be seen walking about among the groups of guests and hecatombs of pots and cauldrons the kind and courteous host of a whole people." Sir Henry Lawrence describes " Major James Abbott " (as he then was) as " of the stuff of the true knight- errant ; gentle as a girl, in thought, word, or deed ; overflowing with warm affections, and ready at all times to sacrifice himself for his country or his friend : he is at the same time a brave, scientific, and energetic soldier, with peculiar power of attaching others, especially Asiatics, to his person." Edwardes was to have been the successor of the "chival- rous and benevolent James Abbott " (after whom the town of Abbottabad is named) ; but on the murder of Colonel Mackeson, Becher was appointed by Lord Dalhousie, and not long after, Edwardes was able to write, " John Becher is Abbott's successor, and is to Hazara all that Abbott was " high praise indeed ! "His cutcherry is not from ten to four by the regulation clock, but all day and night and at any hour that anybody chooses." In 1857 during the terrible Mutiny, Becher's promptitude, intelligence, and energy were of the greatest value in check- ing its progress. When the Murree mutineers made a desperate attempt to escape to Cashmere, to obtain the support of the Maharajah, they had to pass through Hazara. John Becher, in authority there, as Deputy-Commissioner, laid his plans with consummate tact to intercept their progress, ordering all the passes to be occupied so that they were obliged to retrace their steps and enter Kohistan. Becher's instructions to the mountaineers being faith- fully followed, the rebels were all taken and suffered the death awarded to mutineers. Becher's conduct of matters 326 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. was remarkable, and earned " high recommendation from those under whom he served ; when honours came to be distributed, he received a brevet promotion and a C.B." After holding this appointment with honour for six years, Becher was sent to succeed Colonel James, deceased, in the commissionership of Peshawur, where he managed, though with broken health and struggling manfully against nature, to bear, during two years, the burden of this charge which was full of intricate political difficulties, but in 1866 he had no choice but to abandon for ever the land in which, as Sir Herbert wrote, " He had compressed the work of a long and laborious life into a comparatively few years." When at home in England, and of necessity leading a very retired life, he was eagerly sought out by Mr. Bosworth Smith, whom he was able materially to assist in his com- pilation of the Life of Lord Lawrence. This writer has remarked of him, " Of all the Indian celebrities with whom I have conversed, he was perhaps the most delightful, and I do not think I ever found more pleasure in the conversation of any one. He was much more intellectual than most Anglo-Indians, and he also had very delicate feelings, keen sympathies, and a strong touch of humour." His con- versation was very suggestive, and his " knowledge most versatile." Sir W. Boxall, E.A., was one day taken by surprise at the aptness of some remarks he had heard him make on the characteristics of the Pre-Raphaelite school. The fact is, that he possessed, without even seeming aware of it, an irresistible power of attraction, to which all who knew him infallibly yielded, no matter to what class they might belong. Though he remained in feeble health from the time of his final retirement till his death in 1884, he was still always the most charming and refined of companions. The scope of his knowledge, which comprised several languages, music, art, literature, seemed to extend far beyond his own con- sciousness of its depth and variety. His perceptions were HIS MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL QUALIFICATIONS. 327 singularly quick and his judgment (though he always took time to deliberate before pronouncing it) as singularly acute, while his taste was refined and his intelligence far-seeing ; there was something absolutely touching in his complete unconsciousness of his own worth, yet his thoughts were so upright and his mode of expression so limpid, that in all dealings with him one felt oneself in an atmosphere of sincerity. His literary criticisms, while altogether unpre- tending, were remarkably just and shrewd ; by reading the same books simultaneously, and comparing impressions, I was surprised to note whether as applied to historical, biographical, philosophical, or imaginative works the subtlety and aptitude of his comments, manifesting fertility of imagination, soundness of judgment, variety of know- ledge, and originality of thought indeed, his appreciation of all works of art, showed independent opinion, pure taste, and sound discrimination. A valuable acquisition he seemed unconsciously to possess, was the power, whether in conversation or correspondence, of condensing his thoughts, thus saying all he meant in a few words with no climunition of force in the argument. The following stanzas, never intended for publication, are perhaps worth quoting for the noble and simple spirit in which they are written, also for the eloquent testimony they bear to the writer's affectionate admiration for the subject of them. " CHAMBERLAIN. " Honoured by England in bis grave In tbe old Abbey wbere she keeps Tbe memory of tbe great and brave, Tbe lion-bearted Outram sleeps. Tbe deathless chaplet of his fame Still blossoms in remembered deed, But vainly we invoke his name, He may not answer to our need ! 328 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. And India looks around to call Another champion to her side, Whose crest gleams in the front of all ; To whom may she her sword confide ? Noble, compassionate, and just, Knight without fear and without stain ; A foe, to dread ; a friend, to trust Eide forth, SIR NEVILLE CHAMBERLAIN ! " * t I have known more than one honest fellow with deplorable antecedents, who has told me with tears in his eyes, that he owed all the good there was in him to the " dear General," and, added one, naively, " a monarch was he among men ; "for myself, I am quite sure 110 one could know John Becher without becoming a better man ; humbly as he bore himself, so noble and lofty were his principles, they seemed to communicate themselves irresistibly to those who came in contact with him. If it be true that " the evil that men do lives after them," so assuredly does the good. " True glory is to be acquired by writing what deserves to be written, or doing what deserves to be written of, and making the world better and happier for our having lived in it." GeneraiJas. General James Abbott, K.A., whom I have already men- E.A., Cloned, we ]} k nown to Anglo-Indians as one of the finest, bravest, and most self-sacrificing of British officers, is still among us, and it is an enviable privilege to be one of those who enjoy the friendship of this distinguished veteran : one, moreover, of a family of heroes and whose conscientious devotedness to duty has raised him to an eminence which his surviving brother-officers are unanimous in recognizing. It is for history to relate the detail of his labours and his successes ; and for the nation for whose glory he fought, to acknowledge how zealously, how bravely, and how faithfully he gave himself to his share of the long and trying struggles- of the British in India ; nor should it be forgotten with what GENERAL JAMES ABBOTT, E.A., K.C.B. 329 untiring patience and what opportune judgment he conducted the difficult and delicate missions committed to his intelli- gent care. Kegardless of his personal interests, General Abbott, it is now well known, never hesitated to generously and ungrudgingly employ his private means, as well as his personal energies, in the cause of duty, whenever he found himself called upon by the exigence of circumstances. It would be impossible here to enumerate the services rendered throughout such a life, and during such a period as that he spent in the East ; but it is, I think, justifiable to call attention to a wrong which was (perhaps inevitably) done to him by an oversight deeply to be deplored. Abbott was sent by Major Todd in 1839 from Herat to Khiva, to try to organize the release of the Russian prisoners- at that place. It was an arduous and harassing mission, and its fatigues and perplexities were enhanced by the temporary failure of his purpose. He had, however, con- ducted the cause with so much skill as to pave the way for subsequent negotiations, and when Colonel Shakespear, R.A. was despatched in 1842 to complete the arrangements, he found the work done and had only to walk over the ground ; the prisoners were at once released and lie became Sir Richmond Shakespear, K.C.B. Hos ego versiculos fed, tulit alter honor es ! I have heard great dissatisfaction expressed by General Abbott's friends at the inadequacy of the distinctions bestowed on him in recognition of his gallantry and his indefatigable services ; as for himself, dis- interestedness has always been one of his distinguishing characteristics, and never more manifestly so than in the contented attitude of his retirement from public duty. General Abbott's wounds and his snow-white hair entitled him to his retreat from active occupation long before he availed himself of these undeniable reasons. His chief occupation in private life has been the training and educa- tion of an only son, who will no doubt be true to his tradi- tions, and prove himself the worthy scion of such a stock. 330 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. General Abbott's poetical tastes and literary abilities have led to his publishing several works which, while giving to his life a new interest, are read with pleasure and profit as well by the public as by his friends. His verse is not mere rhyme, it is powerfully imaginative and exhibits great play of fancy, while in his picturesque descriptions we trace the inspiration of a poetical mind. Colonel sir H. Of Colonel Yule, E.E., another of these Indian heroes K!C?B. ' and a distinguished scholar (who had not his equal for pro- found and intimate knowledge of the East, its populations, its cities, its history, its customs, its languages), it is sad to have to speak in the past tense. His was indeed a valuable life, closed all too soon for his country's glory and his country's cultivation. Conscientious perhaps to a fault, no one ever knew him without profoundly admiring and esteeming him. A tardy recognition was (to all appearance, grudgingly) be- stowed on this indefatigable servant of his country, just before the close of his arduous career, as if to court the contempt of his friends and his just admirers, for the ridiculous misapplica- tion with which so-called " honours " are dispensed. Whose services throughout the land could deserve distinction if Yule's did not ? Put this question to any man of arms and to any man of letters who may think it worth answering ; indeed it seems to have answered itself, by the fact that this remarkable man's friends and admirers virtually refuse to ratify the almost posthumous recognition, deeming that no adventitious adjunct is needed to illustrate such a name as that of Colonel Henry Yule, who will probably go down to posterity distinguished by his military rank alone. It was a great satisfaction to myself, to be able, by supply- ing particulars of General John Becher's earlier years, to lend Colonel Yule a helping hand when he was compiling his graceful memoir of that brother-officer ; graceful, as every emanation from that versatile pen a poem in prose : for he had known intus et in cute the military prowess of the sub- ject of those most interesting pages which carry on them COLONEL SIR HENRY YULE, R.E., KC.B. 331 the impress of his affection. Who is there left to record with as faithful and touching a tenderness the life of him who so readily and so ably rendered this service to many of the gathered heroes who were his reciprocally-esteemed brother-officers ? I have heard a characteristic anecdote of Colonel Yule, aptly illustrative of his sensitive conscientiousness. It puts him on the same platform with Dr. Johnson when standing during the pelting rain in the Market-place at Lichfield, on the spot where he remembered as a boy to have spoken disrespectfully to his father. My friend, the late Sir W. A , Civil Engineer in the Indian Service, told me that he one day observed Colonel Yule busily moving about, outside the Compound in his shirt- sleeves, and without a hat, though under a broiling sun ; he had before him a heap of bricks and a board of mortar, which he was applying with a trowel as he picked up first one brick and then another and adjusted it in its place. The proceeding seemed so strange that Sir W. at last hailed him and asked him what he was about, in such a condition and at such a time of day. Yule, determined probably to go bravely through the humiliation as well as the labour he had im- posed on himself, replied that he had that morning had to reprimand a subordinate, and that on reflection he felt he had spoken too harshly ; he added, as he could not make this admission to one under his command, he was expiating the wrong in another way. General Becher told me of a curious and characteristic inquiry once made of him by an Indian of note to whom he was introduced. " Are you," said he, " a man of the sword, or a man of the pen ? " Colonel Yule was eminently both : the value of his important and efficient work as a geo- grapher and a man of letters can best be estimated by those who know how few have attempted such undertak- ings as those he had the rare ability to carry out, and how greatly therefore such services as he has rendered to our 332 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Anglo-Indian interests were needed. The notes alone to his admirable translation of The Book of Ser Marco Polo suffice to testify to the vast scope of Colonel Yule's know- ledge, while the execution of that and his other works shows him to have possessed literary abilities of the first order. Those who know his productions know also that perhaps he alone of all his contemporaries could have threaded as he has, for his readers, the intricate and untrodden paths of Asiatic research. General Sir Another interesting old military friend was General Sir James Alex- ander, B A., James Alexander, E.A.. K.C.B., who also served with distinc- KGB tion in India and was one of the heroes at the Kyber Pass. At one period of his service he had among his subordinates Sir Henry (then Mr.) Lawrence, and what was more remark- able, as he once told me, he was the only one of them he ever had to reprimand. This was on the occasion of a grand military review before Lord Elphinstone, when Lawrence rode up at the last moment and took up his place in a tenue altogether out of keeping with the trim condition of all the troops, whether officers or men; he was not only covered with dust, but almost every item of his accoutrement was out of gear, and Sir James was obliged to order him to " fall out." But neatness was the bete noire of the Lawrence family ; they were so great in other ways that they seemed to consider the conventional minutiae, whether of etiquette or appear- ance, beneath their attention, and there are many known instances of the untidiness of Sir Henry's as well as of Lord Lawrence's attire and surroundings : Lord Lawrence, indeed, often received important personages when in his shirt-sleeves, and in a room (or a tent, as the case might be) where every article of furniture was in disorder. This disregard of personal order has, however, been ob- served in other great men besides Sir Henry and Lord Lawrence the great lexicographer, for example Fox, and others. GENERAL SIR JAMES ALEXANDER, R.A., K.C.B. 833 Sir James had two brother-officers whose rank and names were precisely the same as his own ; three " Generals Sir James Alexander, E.A., K.C.B.," all members of the United Service Club ; inevitably, therefore, they were continually opening each other's letters ! Sir James was actively engaged in the Afghan War, and after the fatal issue of the 13th of January, 1842, was stationed at Jellallabad, where it was he who received Dr. Brydone when he returned wan, feeble, and scarcely able still to hold the reins, on his equally dilapidated steed, bringing the cruel news that he was the sole survivor of the gallant 44th. Perhaps no page of history is more pathetic than those in which Sir John Kaye has described the heart-breaking scene, nor are there many war-pictures more touching than Lady Butler's vividly-imagined repre- sentation of " The Bemnants of an Army." An altogether unaccountable incident, which however seems to be satisfactorily authenticated, was the extraordi- nary and circumstantial prophecy of Colonel Dennie, that only one of the sixteen thousand men forming the Cabul army would escape destruction, and that that one would return as a messenger to tell that the rest had perished. Sir John Kaye says that Dennie's voice assumed the solemnity of an oracle when, as this solitary, broken-down figure whom no one recognized, was seen approaching, he exclaimed " Here comes the messenger." Sir James Alexander was most unfortunate in losing one after another every relation he had ; till, at an advanced age he was left with an only daughter who was devoted to him, and indeed seemed indispensable to his very being, for in consequence of a wound in his right hand he could not even hold a pen. However, in 1885, after a very short illness, she, too, was taken, and the rest of the brave veteran's life was a dreary solitude ; though he bore his loss with an equanimity most touching to witness, and which took his friends by surprise. Happily his eye- 334 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. sight remained good, and as he was very cultivated, he was able to amuse himself with literature. Though he did not brood over his sorrow he would have nothing moved in the rooms his daughter had occupied, and to the day of his. death, which occurred two years later, when he was eighty- four, everything remained precisely as she had left it. He never spoke of her but the tears came into his eyes. Sir James was a fine character, and a perfect gentleman of the old school ; polite and gallant, but unobtrusively so, he was naturally, therefore, a universal favourite, and as he had seen a great deal of life during his long military service his conversation was exceedingly entertaining. He used to relate many amusing instances of his faculty of second sight, and told them with such entire conviction, that he imparted his own belief to the most incredulous of his hearers. He would also relate the most extraordinary dreams, the incidents of which seemed planned and inter- woven like those of a drama, and, what is more remarkable,, they appeared to be continued, as if in chapters or scenes, from one night to another. Some of those which came to him in India when in active service were so generally interesting that his daughter used to insist on his relating them to her the morning after they occurred, and she wrote them down, thus making, as she assured me, quite a romantic as well as a very suggestive volume. Unhappily this rare MS. was lost on an occasion when Sir James'& baggage was plundered in India by some natives. Another curious fact illustrative of the General's peculiar mental condition was that after thinking over the " Fifteen Puzzle " which I showed him one day just after it came out, and failing altogether to discover it while awake, he made it out that night in his sleep ! * Among those of our heroes hurried out of the world in the of Magdala. winter of 1889-90, by the fatal influenza epidemic, there were few whose loss was more widely felt than that of Lord Napier of Magdala. I had met him and Lady Napier in the previous. LORD NAPIER OF MAGDALA. 33* summer at the wedding of a young relative of his, daughter of old friends of my own, Mr. and Mrs Triibner, and as her father was dead, it fell to Lord Napier to assume a paternal part on the occasion, and to give the bride away ; a task appa- rently very agreeable to him, and which he performed with the greatest amiability and grace. At that time the veteran appeared in vigorous health, and it was generally remarked among the throng of guests \vho filled the rooms and garden of the villa, that he seemed to have in him any amount of life. Indeed, but for the un- toward attack, which proved fatal, he might have lived on with all his powers unimpaired for many years, but it was a case for the wise French physician, who said to M. Thiers, " Soyez vieux tant que vous voudrez, inais, avec fa, ne vous avisez pas d'etre malade." The wedding present selected for the little bride by Lord and Lady Napier made a considerable show among the bridal gifts ; it was a silver service in admirable taste. The public funeral in St. Paul's Cathedral awarded to this brave and distinguished officer, carried out with every demonstration of sympathy and appreciation on the part of the Royal Family, as well as of the nation, must have been very consoling to the grief of his surviving relatives. By way of illustrating Lord Napier's military ability, I am led to record here an apparently forgotten incident of his career, creditable alike to his acumen, his energy, and hi& modesty. When, in the year 1860, the French were our allies in China, the Commander-in-chief of their contingent was General Cousin-Montauban. In August of that year, the Anglo-French troops had reached the mouth of the Pei-ho River, and had before them the task of attacking the North Ta-kou forts, a very important undertaking. It would appear that neither Montauban nor Grant were equal to the occasion, nor could they agree on the plan of attack; 386 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. happily, Napier was there. Sir Hope Grant, in his extremity, called this intelligent officer into consultation, when he at once pointed out what he considered the only course to be pursued. Sir Hope, rejoicing to have found an expedient which at once recommended itself to his own judgment, asked Napier to draw up his suggestion in form that he might submit it, as in courtesy bound, to the French General. The latter, piqued probably that the ingenious resource proposed had escaped his own perspicacity, pooh-poohed the scheme, and positively refused to join in adopting it. Sir Hope communicated the disappointment he thus experienced to Napier, and feeling himself in a terrible dilemma, asked him what he should do. Napier replied that as this French fellow had suggested nothing better indeed, nothing at all, the only way would be for Sir Hope to take the matter on himself, and proceed as if he had obtained his consent, adding he felt sure that when operations were set going, Montauban would quietly fall in, as he must see very well there was nothing else to be done. This advice was followed : the whole of the artillery was put under Napier's command, and the conduct of the affair was committed to him. The result completely justified his expectations, and led to his speedy promotion : Montauban had wisely abstained from any further resistance. The forts were taken, and on the 21st of September, the Anglo-French troops advanced to Pa-li-kao, where they met and completely routed the Chinese, under command of Sang-ko-lin-sin. Hence they marched on to Pekin, and took it on the 12th of October. The Chinese, terrified at the prodigious and facile successes of this handful of troops, against whom they had brought a disproportionately numerous force, found it expedient to conform to the conditions imposed by the allies, and hastened to sign the treaty of peace offered them as a sine qua non. The French General Montauban, whose management on this occasion was, to say the least, unhelpful, seems to have HIS FINE MOKAL AND MILITARY QUALIFICATIONS. 837 walked off with more than his share of the " gloire" and to have been gratified with the title of Connie de Pa-li-ka-ho, whatever that may be worth. It is a significant fact that the French historians and cyclopaedists, who give an account of this episode of allied warfare, carefully ignore even the presence of the English officers, and speak of Montauban as " the commander of the Anglo-French troops," and as if he alone had planned the attack, which he had really condemned, and also as if the success of the engagement was due to him, and to him alone. " But glory long has made the sages smile ; Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, wind Depending more on the historian's style Than on the name the person leaves behind." Like General John Becher, Napier remained on terms of affectionate friendship with both the Lawrences after they had ceased to agree with one another. Lord Lawrence, however, although he entertained the highest opinion of Napier's abilities, and was well aware of the intelligent management with which he conducted to a successful issue whatever he undertook, never became reconciled to his reck- lessness in the matter of expenditure. Napier was abso- lutely incorrigible in this respect ; it had, however, to be borne with ; for, as Lord Lawrence was obliged to admit, " if a thing had to be well done, there was no one like Napier for being trusted to do it, ... but," added he, " it costs money." Napier's brilliant career is the more creditable because, when he started in 1826 with his first commission, he went to his work with no adventitious advantages, and had nothing to rely on but his own unaided capabilities. The services he rendered to his country were very various, comprising both civil and military duties, and carrying him into widely different localities. He was a favourite with all, whether as an officer or a man, and was greatly loved in either capacity, by all who approached him. VOL. i. 23 SOME LEGAL CELEBEITIES. When Peter the Great visited England, he was taken to the Courts of Law : the first question His Imperial Majesty asked was, who were all those busy persons in black, and learning they were lawyers "Alt those, lawyers ! " said he, " why I have only two in all my dominions, and one of those is going to be hanged as soon as I get back." CHAPTEE VI. SOME LEGAL CELEBRITIES. " Justitiam, Numen junxit cum lege ; sed eheu ! Quas junxit Numen, dissociavit homo." "... que es bien Guardar el segundo oido Para quien llega despues." CALDERON DE LA BARCA. Mjjrs Siici] SiKaffi)/s, vpiv a^olv fivOov aKov BKOUGHAM. Brougham was especially noticeable w r hen he was speaking, and more particularly when he was excited by the nature of his subject, the end of his nose was then seen to twist itself about in the wildest way, without affecting any other muscle in his face. Lord Brougham's temper was very irascible, and more than one of Sydney Smith's jokes upon him helps to show what was its reputation at the time. His irritability even got the better of his politeness on occasions, one of which I will relate. His lordship happened to be in the public reading-room in 376 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUKY. Edinburgh, and having taken up The Times, stood reading it the whole sheet being opened and held up before him. A lady named F , who was busying herself very energeti- cally about the Temperance question, had happened to see him entering the room, and thinking the opportunity a favourable one for obtaining his support, followed him in, determined by some means or other to introduce herself and her scheme to his notice. She accordingly made boldly up to him, but finding no corresponding readiness on his side, as he took no notice whatever of her, she ventured a timid "My lord!" My lord, however, having no intention of encouraging these advances, turned on his deaf ear, pointedly pursued his occupation, and, ignoring her approaches, continued to dodge them by protecting himself with his improvised cegis. Intimidated perhaps, but not daunted, the lady took another step nearer, cleared her throat, and " my-lorded " him again in a more distinct tone. Brougham, however, continued to fasten on to The Times, and not a hint did he allow to escape him that he had heard himself addressed. However, on her pertinaciously attempting a third invocation, he altogether forgot his manners ; no doubt the tip of his nose was violently at work, for he furiously crumpled up the whole of the huge sheet into a ball, and as, in her terror, she had retreated to the furthest corner of the room, he hurled it at her with a most ungallant display of force, exclaiming, " Woman ! who gave you leave to interfere with me ? " He then seized his hat and strode from the room. Brougham was too vain and bumptious to be popular, and often got snubbed, yet there was a tender side to his character, and I have been told by a connection of my own, and his, that he worshipped his afflicted daughter, who, happily for herself, died young. It was only natural that a case so sad should be little spoken of outside the immediate family ; and the condition of her health, which kept her out of society, was one reason for his taking up his abode at THE MAEQUIS OF WELLE SLEY. 377 Cannes. As long as'he survived her, the room she occupied, and in which she died, was called after her, and was pre- served exactly as she had left it.* " Eleanor " seems to have been a favourite name with Lord and Lady Brougham. Their first daughter, who died very young in 1820, before the birth of the second, was called Sarah Eleanor, and the second, Eleanor Louisa : the latter died in November, 1839, aged nineteen. Her remains were brought to England, and were interred the only one of her sex within the enclosure surrounding the beautiful chapel of Lincoln's Inn, where, on a mural tablet, stands inscribed an epitaph, as elegant as touching, from the classic pen of the Marquis Wellesley, one of the first scholars in Europe, f There is, it will be seen, much pathos in these lines, which I transcribe : " Blanda auima e cunis ; heu ! longo exercita morbo Inter maternas, heu ! lacrymasque patris, Quas risu lenire tuo jucunda solebas, Et levis et proprii vix memor ipsa mali. I, pete coelestes ubi nulla est cura recessus, Et tibi sit nullo mista dolore quies." J * The " Villa Lord Brougham " is now an hotel, and, of course, the privacy of this room has ceased to be respected. f The early promise of future distinction given by this studious young nobleman, when a boy at Eton, astonished as nmch as it delighted his friends, and was amply fulfilled in after years. Lord Selborne, himself remarkable for his erudition, says of him in a letter to myself, " Besides being once Governor- General of India, and filling several important public offices in this country, he was a first-rate Latin scholar." When George III. and his Queen, who delighted in visiting Eton, went there accompanied by several of the young Princes, and attended by a great train of nobility, on the 27th of July 1778, in order to hear the speeches of the boys, the Marquis of Welle.ley particularly distinguished himself by his delivery of the speech of Lord Strafford when about to be executed. So pathetic was his tone, and so touching the expression he gave to the words, that the whole audience was in tears. I Thus paraphrased by my friend, Mr. John W. Bone : " Sweet child ! from thy first hours in suffering bred, Between thy mother's and thy father's tears, How oft with happy smile, their griefs and fears Thou soothedst, cheerful, on thy restless bed ! Fly now to heaven's bright realms ; no care shall come, Nor pain, to mar thy rest Best sweetly there is home." 378 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. The Marquis, like his brother, the great Duke, was not without a sense of humour. Sir Walter Stirling told me, he once heard him relate an amusing anecdote of Brummel, who, to mask his (very cogent) reasons for his retirement to the coast of France, described himself as "a bachelor of fashion passing his time between London and Paris." As I have mentioned the Beau, I may add that he never found any facility for returning from his exile, but grew so prematurely aged in that refuge of roues to which he had resorted, that an acquaintance meeting him there casually, had some difficulty in recognizing him. Some time before his death his mind gave way, and his friends were compelled to place him under restraint. There was, therefore, a melan- choly contrast between his earlier and later life ; this gaudy butterfly who had, at least for a time, enjoyed his entrees at Court as the boon-companion of the Regent, and had become the standard of fashion, ended his days in a madhouse at Caen, surrounded by imaginary monarchs and wearing a strait-waistcoat ! There are in the diary of Sir William Knighton (who was appointed by George IV. Secretary to the Marquis on his embassy to Spain) several mentions of that nobleman in his private capacity ; unfortunately these are too discreet, for Knighton was no Bos well, and we are only tantalized by the very delicate sketches he gives of little incidents, which might nevertheless have been indicative of character. Passing through Petersfield, before they crossed the Channel, Knighton remarked " This was the birthplace of Gibbon." This bait, however, did not draw, and all that we learn is that the cultivated scholar showed little enthusiasm on the matter, for " he expressed no opinion on the great his- torian's character," contenting himself with observing that "he thought his style too loose to be admired." It was only a short month before the mournful event I have alluded to in Lord Brougham's life, that occurred that mysterious incident of which his contemporaries, including LORD BROUGHAM. 879 the press, mortified at having been so easily hoaxed, gave a not very creditable explanation. His lordship had gone to Brougham Hall, Penrith, where his two friends Leader and Shafto were on a visit, when on the 21st of October, 1839, an alarming letter, signed and purporting to have been written by the latter, was received by Mr. Alfred Montgomery in London. It stated that Lord Brougham and the writer w r ere driving in the neighbourhood of Penrith, when the postchaise was overturned, that the postilion fell under the horse he was riding, and had his leg broken, but that Lord Brougham was thrown out and killed on the spot. The startling contents of this letter were at once com- municated to the editors of the morning papers, and all but The Times which, for a long time after, piqued itself on its discernment published the full details in large print, with suitable comments and biographical notices. Mean- time, Mr. Shafto, who had never even dreamed of describing an accident that had never happened, was paralysed with surprise and indignation, and immediately, in a circular to the papers, disclaimed all knowledge of the communication to which his name had been so unscrupulously forged. However, of course, some one wrote it, and it was not long before suspicion fixed itself on the only individual at all likely to have ventured on this somewhat grave and most mistaken practical joke. Whatever the presumption, doubt soon gave way to certainty, and the identity of the fabri- cator, together with the meanness of his probable motive,, seemed fully established in public opinion. As for the Duke of Cambridge, meeting Lord Brougham shortly after, he followed him round the room, saying, with his triple repetition, half contemptuously, half jocosely, " D - you, you dog, you wrote that letter, you know you did." D'Orsay declared he had carefully compared the letter attributed to Shafto, with one of Brougham's to himself, and 380 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. was convinced that the handwriting, though disguised, was identical. The very paper betrayed the secret, for it was of the same size and shape, and had all the same marks, leaving no doubt of the fact. " Quern Deus vult perdere, prius clementat"- cannot but be true in this case, or how could a man, posses- sing some really rare and fine qualities, and with a hardly- earned reputation to lose, a man of experience, a man of the world, and a statesman to boot, be so utterly wanting, if not in principle, at least in diplomacy, as to risk a fraud, the discovery of which, he must have known, would for ever de- prive him of the esteem of honest men ! Brougham was nothiDg if not vain-glorious, and never lost an opportunity of drawing attention to himself. He was fond of recalling the part he had taken in the history of the Eoyal Family, his defence of the Queen at her trial, and his success in withholdicg Princess Charlotte from measures to which she was instigated by her impetuosity. He once narrated to a friend of mine, when a guest at Lowther, that singular scene in the drawing-room of Connaught House, the residence of her mother, whither the young Princess had fled in a hackney coach from her "prison " in Spring Gardens. The man who drove her had no suspicion of the rank of his fare, though she had imprudently promised him a guinea to drive her to Oxford Street. At Cumberland Gate he asked for further instructions, and she directed him to Connaught House. Arrived there, she asked the servants if her mother were at home, and it was only on their addres- sing her as " Your Eoyal Highness " that the man discovered who she was : she then dismissed him, telling the servants to give him three guineas, adding that " he had earned them." The Princess of Wales was absent at Blackheath, whither a messenger was despatched, and one of the household also fetched Lord Brougham, who arrived immediately, and soon LOED BEOUGHAM AND THE PEINCESS CHAELOTTE. 381 after him, the Duke of York, who had followed the Princess, on her flight being discovered, for he at once guessed whither- she must have gone ; but it was in vain he tried to persuade her to return quietly and avoid a scandal. This was not easy, as the Princess was in a state of great irritation, the grievance being the change proposed to be made in her household and place of residence, without consulting her, and so far from yielding, she advanced to the window,, declaring she would show herself and appeal to the people. Brougham then approached, and with his hand on the button, told the excited girl that nothing would be easier than to call the mob to her aid, " but," added he, " after that, Princess, . . . what will happen ? " The young Princess, child as she was, understood at once the risk and responsibility of the measure she had contem- plated ; she saw before her revolt, civil war, bloodshed, and she gave in. Brougham was not slow to take to himself the credit of her submission, and was triumphant when another hackney-coach having been called, she consented to muffle her face and figure, and enter it with the Duke of York and himself, to drive back to Warwick House. Mrs. Lewis, her sub-governess, who had arrived in the meantime, followed, and it was half-past three a.m., when the Princess reached her home. Brougham had contrived to put himself on a footing of no small importance in the domestic squabbles of the Eoyal Family ; but, if the Princess of Wales reckoned him and Denman her friends and supporters, she had more reason for trusting the latter. True, though it may be, that Brougham's speeches and his advocacy generally, obtained her acquittal,, the warmth of his arguments and the zeal of his manner were not the outcome of any personal regard or respect. The light in which he represented her was very different from that in which he saw her, and in society he made no secret of his disapproval of her conduct. He discerned, in a Royal trial, a fine opportunity for the display of his legal ingenuity 382 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. and his oratorical powers, and it was pretty freely thought, and even said, that "it was not the woman but the case that interested him." Among those who were really disinterested friends of this foolish and unfortunate Princess, was Mr. Perceval, and when the sudden news of his assassination on May 16, 1812, reached the Princess from Madame Haeckle, during dinner, she was perfectly wild with grief and consternation. At midnight she became calm enough to send an express to Mr. Arbuth- not, but the messenger returned with a full confirmation of the report, adding a few details and informing Her Eoyal Highness that the assassin was one Bellingham, a Russia merchant, whose motive was private vengeance for some imaginary wrong, and that he had made no attempt to .escape.* Michael Angelo Taylor f was one of those w r ho took down the depositions of the witnesses who were standing in the lobby at the moment when Bellingham committed the cowardly act. Macaulay lauds to the skies the grand and noble eloquence .and moral influence of Brougham, but only when comparing him with Croker ; for he says, in one of his letters to Macvey Napier, " Brougham's absurdities are merely pitiable while he confines himself to his pen. He is a formidable orator, but a very middling writer, and has never produced any- thing poorer than his last pamphlet ; as to his Political ' Byron mentions in his diary having gone to the Old Bailey on the day on .which the sentence of this miscreant was carried out : " Went this morning," he writes, " to see Bellingham launched into the other world; and this afternoon to see * * * launched into the country." f He was nicknamed "the chicken," because he once said "he always delivered ,his legal opinions in that House with great humility ; he was young, and might with propriety, call himself a chicken in the profession of the law." Sheridan, in a humorous speech which produced roars of laughter, noticed the diffidence of Mr. Taylor, connected with another observation of his, that " he should vote with the .opposition because they were in the right, but in all probability he should never vote with them again." Sheridan asked whether this meant that they would in future always be in the wrong. BELLINOHAM. LORD GREY ON BROUGHAM. 383 Philosophy" he concludes, " I can't find a soul who has read it." Lord Brougham's attitude on the death of George IV. was cleverly and significantly shown up in one of H. B.'s smartest sketches, in which he represents him as a Gheber The Gheber. worshipping the rising sun, to which, in giving the King's likeness, this consummate artist has imparted an inimitable expression of alarm and mistrust. "THE GHEBER," BROUGHAM WILLIAM IV. (H.B.) On this occasion, Lord Grey seemed to see an excellent opportunity for overthrowing the Ministry, though the division on the Galway Bill was not in itself, as he admits, of sufficient importance to decide their tenure of office ; still he took occasion "openly, and strongly to declare his opinion that this administration was not capable of conducting the Government with advantage to the country." In communi- cating this to his correspondent his " dearest Princess," he continues invidiously, "In the house of Lords, at least, there 384 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. are no ' battles of Waterloo ' to be gained, and then the conqueror in so many battles appears in truth, a very little man" (!). "I was supported," he says, "by the leading members of all parties," but he is obliged to admit, "the majority against us was large," and then alluding to the tone assumed by Brougham in the debate, he concludes, "I believe there really might have been a majority against Ministers, but for the strange conduct of Brougham, whom I really do believe to be mad." Haydon's testimony, as written in his diary, is singularly corroborative of this view ; he said he should never forget the scenes he had witnessed in the House of Lords when Brougham was Chancellor : his utter apathy to the feelings of others ; his inordinate assumption of extraordinary eleva- tion ; the restless, irritable grossness of his allusions ; his callous indifference to facts, were shocking. Had he re- mained in office, he would have been, as Napoleon said of himself, " a lui seul, une revolution " ; but he was not endured, and could not be. " In my conscience," he adds, " I verily believe his brain latterly, was over-excited." In February, 1838, Greville writes : " Brougham is co- quetting with the Tories, professing great respect and defer- ence for the Duke, but his sole object is to badger and torment the Ministry : he can't even keep within the limits of civility, talking of 'Lord J. This,' and ' Mr. Spring That/ and calls it the Thomson Government, choosing the name of its most insignificant member : such conduct can be qualified only as undignified and contemptible." The Princess Lieven disliked Lord Brougham ; so, of course, therefore did Lord Grey. Throughout their very remarkable correspondence, it is curious and amusing to note that lady's policy and her astuteness in sustaining it, also to follow her manoauvres to obtain an ascendency over the English statesman, and to bias his mind against those to whom (whether from caprice or from political motives) she had taken exception. The reader can trace her fear of SAMUEL WARREN, Q.C. 385 the iron Duke, and the antipathy it had engendered towards him in her correspondent's mind, together with her anxiety to maintain that feeling. With an ingenious subtlety worthy of a better cause, she won the Earl over to her own views, till at last we find him joining, almost unconsciously, in her sneers at, and abuse of, the Duke and maligning him as un- reservedly as she herself : this policy she followed with equal success in all matters of State. Her manifest object throughout the correspondence was not only to worm State secrets out of the Minister, but to direct his policy so as to suit the Power whose spy she was ; she laboured hard and not altogether unsuccessfully, whether by her adroit cajoleries, or her covert menaces that she would put an end to their intercourse, to hoodwink him and mould him to her purposes. It is true that on one occasion, perhaps more, he resisted her bravely. This intriguing woman who carried on her political tricks by correspondence with her husband's mother in Russia, died in January, 1857. Samuel Warren, Q.C., I remember meeting at dinner at Samuel 7 ^ ' Warren, Q.C. the house of Sir David Salomons in Great Cumberland Place, in January, 1855. He gave the impression of being superfluously self-conscious, but though he monopolized to a great extent the attention of those sitting near him of whom I was one, his conversation was not unamusing. A fashionable marriage was talked of and the fortune of the bride, who was heiress to 100,000, being remarked upon, Warren observed: "How glibly we talk of 100,000! We seem to fancy we have the tangible yellow, golden sovereigns before us, but where are they ? Who ever saw a hundred thousand pounds ? Who ever actually saw even ten thousand ?" " Unless," I answered, " it was ' Ten Thousand a Year ; ' most of us must have seen that." Warren seemed to appreciate this allusion to his novel which had not long before appeared, for I heard him repeating it afterwards VOL. i. 26 386 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. to the ladies, upstairs ; but, alluding to his first book, The Diary of a late Physician, he told me it was incredible how much harm this work had done him in his profession. Warren had, he informed me, been originally intended for one of the medical fraternity, and had pursued his studies in that direction for some time, but ultimately abandoned medicine for the bar : the turn his mind had taken during that time, had, however, suggested to him to write that book, and the knowledge he had acquired, had enabled him to handle the subject so successfully and naturally, that for a long time no one suspected but what the author was a physician ; when therefore it was discovered he was NATHAN MEYER ROTHSCHILD. a barrister, the public imagined at least so he said that the profession he was practising must have been neglected for the one he had abandoned. N. M. Roths- Among the guests that day was Nathan Meyer Eothschild, child. cousin to Lady Salomons, who always pronounced the name after the German form, " Koth-schild." This was the son of the Baron Eothschild, who, besides his long succession of prosperous ventures, did such a clever piece of business in 1815, adding thereby a mighty pillar of gold to the support of his colossal fortune. It is probably remembered, how deftly he chartered a private boat to take him across the N. M. EOTHSCHILD. 387 Channel, somewhere about the 16th of June; speeding on to Brussels, where he learnt particulars enough of the critical event on which the thoughts of all Europe were concentrated, and remained just long enough to enable him to certify the important fact of its issue, and then how quickly, how deliberately, how unostentatiously he returned, and shuffling along to the City, took up his wonted place in the great temple of Mammon. There he assumed an atti- tude of profound dejection with an air of meditative reserve, which seemed to repel all inquiries : a likely matter he would impart news sought by his own mother- wit, and secured at so much cost, personal labour, and risk ! No ; all that the " City men " could discover to satisfy their eagerness for direct infor- mation, had to be learnt from the countenance and attitude of the shrewd and vigilant Israelite. The Stock Exchange was puzzled ; they watched, and they scanned ; they noted his utter inactivity in the matter of business, and they came to the inevitable conclusion, that the English must have been defeated, that the irrepressible Buonaparte was ram- pant, and would infallibly sooner or later invade England.* Stocks of all descriptions were thrown on the market, there was a general panic, thousands were ruined ! Meantime, Baron Rothschild had his agents all over the market, diligently buying up the stocks that others in their desperation were flinging away ; while, as for him, he stood as one paralyzed, avoiding any semblance of action either way. News,- even financial news, travelled leisurely in those days, and there was plenty of time for this master of the money-making art to build up a fortune before the cry of victory resounded through the land, and when it came, * Canning states, that after Napoleon had escaped from Elba, he once saw George III. amusing himself by first thrusting his hand through the cuff of a wide sleeve he wore, giving it a fillip with the other hand and drawing it in again, then smartly reproducing it and saying, "That's Boney ; send him back as often as you like, he always comes up again." It was only after this scourge of Europe was securely netted at St. Helena, that the world began to feel itself emancipated from his restless attempts. 388 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. men of business found they had been " done." Yet no one could implicate the Israelitish financier not a word had he spoken : they chose to draw their own inferences, and could blame only their own want of shrewdness, in not discovering the little game that had been played off on them by this negative manoeuvre. I borrow from Charles Greville's Memoirs a very interest- ing account of the mother of all the Eoth-schilds, and her dirty house in the heart of the Juden-gasse at Frankfort, where she always persisted in living, though 564,000 a year was allowed her by her sons, and where she was resolved to die. She was very infirm at the time Greville saw her (1843), and it took two or three maids and as many stout livery- servants to put her into her carriage. Although at that time the Jews might have lived in any part of Frankfort, they preferred congregating as much as possible in their own quaint, picturesque, and unclean old quarter so that those who walked through it, as they met old fellows with long grisly beards, tell-tale gaberdines and tall black caps, looking like so many Shylocks, and women with luxuriant but untidy, black locks, dark eyes and skins, and flashing jewels on their necks, ears, and fingers, habited in abnormal and squalid costumes felt themselves at once in a different world. It was in one of these narrow gloomy streets, that Charles Greville, observing before the door of a wretched tenement, in no way distinguished from the rest, " a smart caleclie lined with blue silk, the door being attended by a footman in blue livery," he waited a moment that he might get a sight of its owner. Presently the door of the house was opened, and he saw an old woman descending the dark and narrow staircase, supported by a young woman, her grand- daughter Baroness Charles de Eothschild, whose carriage was also waiting in the street. A number of the neighbours collected to see the old lady : he expresses himself as " greatly impressed by the contrast between the squalor of ME. ROEBUCK, M.P. 389 the dilapidated locality, and the dresses, attendants, and equipages of these ladies." Another guest I have frequently met at the same table was Mr. Roebuck, Roebuck ; on one occasion, which I particularly remember, Sheffield, full of his grievances anent the " Crimean blunders ; " loud in his invectives against the mismanagement of which he had carefully noted all the details, and announcing the protest he was about to enunciate from his seat in Par- liament, demanding an official justification of all the pro- ceedings connected with the war. Roebuck's motion for a committee of inquiry, it will be remembered, was carried by an unexpectedly large majority of (I think) 160, and Gladstone's speech on the occasion was a very memorable one ; indeed, the occasion itself was memorable enough in its political results, the Government being completely beaten, and Lord Aberdeen's resignation, which was of course inevitable, being followed by consider- able difficulty and delay in forming another Cabinet. Chisholm Anstey was also, during his erratic visits to chishoim England, frequently at Sir David's : a tall, handsome, gentle- manly man, whose career, marked by considerable ability, was singularly chequered. His father was a wealthy Tasmanian, and sent over his son (born in 1816) to be educated at Westminster ; early in life he was called to the Bar at the Middle Temple. Vehement in all he did, he took up very advanced religious views in the direction of Catholicism, and having been received into the Church, began at once to testify the most filial enthusiasm in her behalf. He obtained the Professorship of Law and Juris- prudence at Prior Park College, and the cause he had at heart, and which he took up with all the impulsiveness of his nature, was that of his new co-religionists. Thinking he could serve this more efficaciously in Parliament than at the Bar, and resolved to support the schemes of O'Connell with all his might, he stood, and was elected in 1850 M.P. for Youghal, and soon took advantage of his position to badger 390 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. the Government of Lord Palmerston, whom he made a point of opposing on every measure brought before the House, During the two years he remained in the House he drew on himself the obloquy of the majority of the members, and was continually shown up in Punch. In fact, he did more to damage than to benefit the cause for which he fought, and in 1852 withdrew from Parliament, In whatever position he occupied, Anstey contrived to put himself at loggerheads with every one he had to deal with, and his only successes were those he obtained at the Bar, when out in Bombay. When appointed Attorney-General at Hong Kong, he at once announced his discovery of gross abuses throughout the Government there, which he declared his intention of radically reforming. These " reforms," how- ever, brought him into collision with Sir John Bo wring, who obtained from the English Government, first his suspension, and finally his withdrawal, and he returned to England thoroughly disgusted with China and the Chinese. I remember his loud animadversions on the character of that people when dining at our house one day, and his declaring that they were " like grown-up babies, without any of the simplicity or the graces of childhood." After remaining some time in England, where it was in vain he tried to obtain practice at the Bar, and finding no sympathy in response to his complaints of the unfairness with which he considered he had been treated in China, nor any redress, though he eloquently memorialized the Duke of Newcastle on the subject, he resolved to return to Bombay, where he was warmly welcomed, and resumed at once his former successful position : when he died in 1873, he was universally and profoundly regretted by natives of all religious denominations in that Presidency. A notorious Among other more or less remarkable members of the Q >c - Bar, I once met at dinner a well-known Q.C. and M.P., popular, yet not respected ; more eminent for his ingenuity in brow-beating a witness, his acumen in discerning, and his A NOTORIOUS Q.C. 391 cleverness in seizing on, all the weak points of his adver- sary's case, and his success as a Counsel generally, than for the scrupulousness of his moral character. He was courting a wealthy American widow, who proved considerably more astute than himself, and who was also at this party. She was a stout, rubicund, motherly individual, but from the style of dress she adopted, seemed to consider herself still on her promotion ; the material she wore was very costly, but then there was not much of it, and its scanti- ness contributed to leave her charms somewhat too apparent.* I was told that one gentleman present had been heard to make to another the well-known remark, stolen from Dr. Johnson. It would seem that the Q.C. in question viewed his Danae through the golden veil in which his imagination enveloped her, and took no exception to the indiscreetness of her dress- maker : however, in the course of the evening, he found occasion to ask who were those four handsome girls he had seen the day before, at a concert under her chaperonage. " Four girls?" said the widow colouring ; but immediately recovering her self-possession, she added, "Oh yes; I remem- ber, they are connections of mine ; connections bymarriage" The answer was strictly true, though it may be unusual for a mother to describe her daughters in those terms. It was only after the wedding that the deluded bridegroom dis- covered to his cost, the true interpretation of this devious reply, and that the bride was by no means as she had led him to believe, a childless widow. How r ever, he watched his opportunity, and if he had been taken in, he knew how to make reprisals, by an eminently successful raid upon the lady's diamonds; the history of which, and of his conviction as the abstractor, is too notorious to need repetition here. * Apropos of this style of dress, I have heard of a lady, who similarly displayed her charms at a party where a gentleman inquiring who she was, was answered, " Oh ! that is a Russian lady of distinction." " Then," rejoined the other, " she must be Princess Shemizoff, nee Orloff." 392 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Indeed, this gentleman's malpractices had brought 011 him, before his marriage, the ignominy of being disbarred, and hence his device of crossing the herring-pond, which however did not serve him : whether his notoriety had pre- ceded him, or whether his subsequent scandals were too recklessly played off, I cannot say, but he could make no way in the New World, and his later years practically demonstrated the result of misusing singularly brilliant gifts, which should have served to make him honoured and happy : so there is a moral to this story. I do not know in what rank of life the counsel in question was born, and possibly he may have risen from the ranks, but I have in my note-book an extract (the source of which I am sorry is not given), to the effect that " Many years ago the Court of Common Pleas refused to hear an affidavit read, because the barrister therein named, had not the addition of ' Esquire ' to his name." This seems strange at the present day, when no one, however disqualified, hesitates to appropriate that " addi- tion," and in a barrister's case it is not needed, as lie is entitled ipso facto to style himself "Esquire." Perhaps these punctilious gentlemen required that he should start with the title as a qualification, and not merely acquire it after being called. Serjeant Serjeant Merewether had merriment in his character as ler ' well as in his name, and had his wits about him in court : few could be readier with a smart answer whenever there was an opening for it. Being once engaged in a parlia- mentary case with Lord - the latter, remarkable for the brusquerie of his manner, not to call it by a stronger name ; and seeking to justify himself for having contradicted a statement made by the learned Serjeant, said in a tone which betrayed his dissatisfaction : " Pass me that bag, and I will show you." " Bag ! What bag ? " asked the Serjeant. " Why, the one with the ]etters on it." CAPTAIN HANS BUSK. 393 " What letters ? " " The letters E. B. D. Can't you see them? " said his lordship, impatiently. " E. B. D. ! " repeated the Serjeant, who appears to have been somewhat irritated; for he added, sotto voce, " U.B.D /" A man of mark among social and literary celebrities of Captain Hans recent years was Captain Hans Busk, barrister of the Middle Temple. He was educated at King's College, London, and Trinity College, Cambridge, and had honorary degrees conferred on him by both Oxford and Cambridge. His military and political ideas led to his practical con- sideration of a subject of vast consequence to the country the establishment of a Volunteer force ; and, while still an undergraduate, he discussed this measure with Lord Mel- bourne, who manifested no sympathy with it, contenting himself with pointing out the danger of putting arms in the hands of the people ; but, a short time later, Captain Busk having conferred on the matter with the Prince Consort, His Eoyal Highness immediately saw the value and import- ance of such a movement, and in 1858 the Victoria Rifle corps the only then surviving Volunteer force since 1803 was reorganized by the help of Hans Busk under the auspices of His Eoyal Highness : the second Duke of Wellington also took much interest in this great national cause, and Captain Busk often visited him at Strathfieldsaye, where he had opportunities of observing the Duke's character, and found every reason to admire and esteem him. By lecturing all over the country and forming rifle clubs, Captain Busk created a wide interest in the movement, which in the course of a few years was, as we know, enthusiastically taken up. Captain Busk had a fine commanding presence, and was very popular in society ; for, if his demeanour was grave and dignified, his conversation was lighted up with flashes of humour which took people by surprise, and his sense of humour was as remarkable in his writings as in his speech : by a singular fatality he lived to survive all the men of 394 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. his year at Cambridge, with whom he had maintained close mutual friendships. Of unusually versatile genius, highly accomplished, a scholar and a linguist, his artistic tastes and capabilities were of no mean order, and his pursuit of astronomy led him to produce an interesting globe of the planet Mars. In his literary capacity he started the New Quarterly Review, which, as long as he had time to edit it, ranked among first-class periodicals ; but his subsequent publications connected with the Volunteer service are extensively known, and among these The Handbook for Hi/the; The Rifle, and How to Use It; The Rifleman's Manual ; Rifle Volunteers and How to Drill Them ; and Tabular Arrangement of Com- pany Drill, have not only been widely admired for their mastery of the subject, and valued for the clearly-expressed and practical instruction they convey, but have passed into the category of military text-books. Of his active and ener- getic promotion of the Life-Ship Service we can scarcely think too highly : with a view to the efficacy of this humani- tarian scheme, he planned and built a model lifeship which was not completed at the time of his death, and he estab- lished a lifeboat sendee both at Eyde and Brixham, presenting to each place a handsome and solidly constructed lifeboat. Each of these boats has been instrumental in saving life on several occasions. His yacht, built under his personal supervision (bought after his death and re-named The White Squall), was the first ship of her calibre that ever reached the Antipodes by so marvellously quick a passage. The Armies of the World, and The Navies of the World, have attracted much attention from the time he published them, astonishing their readers by the extensive research they evince, and the mass of valuable information they con- tain : while of political works, such as Horcs Viaticce, Golden Truths, and The Education Craze, the last-named is remark- able for its sagacious predictions of the results of that CAPTAIN HANS BUSK. 395 insane, or, rather, insanely-conducted, movement which has ended by drifting entirely away from the original intention of those who started it. These and other publications, as well as many papers contributed to periodical literature, were always put forward in the Conservative interest. In 1837 Captain Busk filled the office of High Sheriff for Radnorshire ; in 1859 he was appointed Deputy Lieutenant for Middlesex, and in 1860 accepted a captaincy in the Victoria Bifl.es. He also sat on the Bench for some years at Clerkenwell. His intelligent labours on various Govern- ment Commissions for the disafforesting of Haynault, West- wood, Whittlebury, the Isle of Man, &c. , were appreciatively recognized by his collaborators, and while they were the means of carrying out the intentions of the Acts, also contributed to spare many an historic monarch of the forest to continue to adorn its native land. Captain Busk's exceptional qualifications as a gastronome and amphitryon were well known to his friends, who readily admitted him to be unrivalled in the art of dinner-giving. Like Dr. Kitchiner, he treated cookery as a science, and he took an active part in the formation of the School of Cookery. For some years towards the close of his life, I enjoyed the Mr. Joseph friendship of Mr. Joseph Parkes the well-known lawyer and politician during the earlier half of the Victorian era. He was of the old Unitarian connection, and there was interest in his family antecedents, an ancestress Mary Parkes, having married Humble Ward, goldsmith to Charles I. and progenitor of the present Earl of Dudley. Among docu- mentary curios, he possessed two interesting old parchments relating to family settlements of land by his own ancestors, one under Cromwell which it would require an expert to decipher, the other dated in the reign of Charles II. and emblazoned with quaint heraldic devices : both are valuable as showing the relative importance of the yeomanry class in those days. Joseph Parkes began life as a lawyer in 396 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. Birmingham, where he met and married the eldest grand- daughter of the celebrated Dr. Priestley ; his abilities, however, were of too high an order for him to continue long in provincial practice, and having many political friends in London, he ultimately settled there. It was he who brought to Birmingham the news of the passing of the Reform Bill, travelling all night in Lord Grey's carriage. Mr. Parkes was one of the party on the Manchester and Liverpool Eailway at the opening trip, and when the terrible accident happened at Parkside, he was one of the group of gentlemen who picked up poor Huskisson : he kept for years the gloves he wore at the time, stained with the blood of this victim of science, who was an intimate friend of his ; it was a sad inauguration of train travelling. Mr. Parkes used to relate an interesting detail of this melancholy affair, to the effect that Huskisson, having had some slight difference with the Duke of Wellington, was advised to meet the Duke on the platform when the train stopped, and to make it up with his Grace before proceeding further : in the agitation of the moment, and being inex- perienced in the sudden and dangerous possibilities of railway- travelling, he took no heed to an engine which w r as approach- ing on another line of rails, and being thrown down by it, received the injuries which proved fatal. A commemorative tablet recording the melancholy event was placed, and is, I believe, still to be seen on the spot where the accident took place at Parkside Junction. The career of Mr. Parkes as a Parliamentary solicitor began in 1833, and in that year, bringing his family to London, he took up his residence, in Great George Street, Westminster. Two extra converts were always laid on the dinner-table, for he never came home without bringing with him, at least, two Members from the House. He was intimate with a wide circle of Liberals, among whom were Lord Grey, Lord Brougham, Charles Villiers, Roebuck, Leader, and very many others of equal note. Fifteen years MR. JOSEPH PAEKES. 397 after settling in London he was offered the post of Taxing- Master in Chancery, by Lord John Eussell another of his friends and retained it until his death in 1865. Among his literary works was an elaborate edition of Milton, manifesting both taste and scholarly cultivation, and he left an unfinished life of Sir Philip Francis, which after the author's death was completed by H. Merivale. Mr. Parkes's theory as to the identity of the " Nominis umbra" was de- cidedly in favour of Francis. He owned a small collection of good and also interesting pictures, some of considerable value : among them were two remarkable Frescobaldi portraits, in curious old carved Italian gilt frames. These were given to him by Luigi Frescobaldi, the husband of his niece, Anna Maria Parkes : it was in the Palazzo of this ancient and noble Italian family that Milton stayed when at Florence. Mr. Parkes was a man of refined mind and winning manners ; he both admired and studied Italian art, and his conversation and tastes contributed to make him very popular in society ; even persons like myself in disaccord with his politics, found it impossible not to recognize the integrity of his character, the honesty of his principles, and the solidity of his judgment, nor could any one fail to admire his literary ability and his polished manners. His only daughter, so well known before her marriage with M. Belloc, as Miss Bessie Parkes, took an energetic part in the movement for the employment and improved condition of women of the lower middle class, and edited with credit and success for some time the Englishwoman's Journal. She has also contributed largely and usefully to periodical literature, and has published several well-known works of value. AMONG THE FACULTY. Dilectura Medicus gnatum ad me misit, ut ilium Grarnmatices prirnis imbuerem studiis ; Verum ubi Musa refert furias Pelidis et iram ; Norat et hunc versum qui solet inde cani, ' Multas qui fortes animas sub Tartara misit,' Nou ultra puerum mittit, ut ante, pater ; Meque videns genitor, ' Tibi sum devinctus, amice, Natus ut e vobis haec bene discat,' ait ; ' Namque et ego multas animas sub Tartara mitto, Sic mihi grammatici nil opus est opera.' " (Epigram in Hunter MS., No. 53, Cathedral Library, Durham.) " A doctor sent his son to me To gain some liberal learning ; But when the lad had reached that line, (Old Homers pages turning), Where ' great Achilles countless souls To Pluto's realm did banish,' The doctor thought it time his son Should from the schoolroom vanish , ' Thanks to your care,' he kindly said, ' At last he learned made is ; Tis my turn now to teach him how To send down souls to Hades.' " J. W. BONE. CHAPTEK VII. AMONG THE FACULTY. famous French doctors of Moliere's time, Gui Patin and Andre Faiconnet, the former being a confirmed Sangrado,. and the latter as devout and conscientious in his belief in the efficacy of antimony as a panacea, as was Bishop Berkeley, in his advocacy of tar- water. Dr. Eeid was not a sharer in Patin' s mania, for he declared that the lancet had caused more slaughter than the lance : a story is told of a French physician entirely opposed to the blood-letting system who, nevertheless, fell a victim to its application to himself. He fell down in a fit, and a colleague having been called in, he was at once bled. On partially recovering consciousness, he fancied himself at the bedside of a patient, and seizing his own wrist, proceeded to feel the pulse Suddenly he started, aghast, " Good God ! " he exclaimed, " I have been called in too late ! the patient has been bled ! he is a lost man." His verdict proved only too true. Bleeding, as a remedy a tout propos, and especially when a doctor found himself out of his depth, prevailed to a surprising extent, up to an almost recent period ; for there long survived some old-fashioned people of the blood-letting school, who could not be persuaded of its fallacy to use no stronger term. Without being as rampant in its favour as. the aforesaid Gui Patin, who must have thereby slain his thousands, the advocates of the lancet, the leech, or the cupping-glasses were formidably numerous and fearfully determined, and some of them were deterred by no consider- ation for age or feebleness.* Old Squire Waterton, of whose very persistent medical convictions I shall have to speak in a separate work, had his own notions on this subject, and always treated (he used to< say cured) a cough by this means ! Not long before his death,. * Sir H. Sloane boasted be bad once bled a patient five times in tbe foot and arm in twelve bours : but Dr. Cbeyne was opposed to bim in tbis and many otber- details of bis treatment. THE BLEEDING MANIA. 419 and after he was eighty, he got an obstinate cough for which he said he knew there was only one remedy ; so, one fine morning, he bled himself to a considerable extent. It was an alarming expedient for a subject already advanced in life and whose complexion was remarkably bloodless. Provok- ingly enough, it appeared to be successful, for the cough left him ; but though this was probably a coincidence rather than a consequence, the old man became more confirmed in his theory than before. It must be a matter of serious consideration to all con- scientious medical men, whether they ought to warn a patient of approaching death, when they believe it imminent. Of course this will be more or less a question of circumstance, and there are many patients so situated as to render it imperative to reveal to them the w r hole truth as far as the physician himself knows it. A great difficulty, however, must always present itself, in that, first, the physi- cian does not always know, and secondly, that the imagi- nativeness of the patient has to be taken into account, and that according to that, he either adds to, or detracts from, the importance of the doctor's intimations, which thus become of doubtful advantage. The deathbed of Balzac, as described by Arsene Houssaye, Balzac's offers a noteworthy instance of the result of too much open- d ness on the part of the doctor, who cannot be sure of his opinion, and may just as well give the poor patient the benefit of the doubt. The scene is dramatically interesting. Balzac's wife had succeeded in cheering the patient so effectually, that he had become calm, and even hopeful ; but he yet desired to arrive at the opinion of his medical attendant, perhaps because he hoped to hear an official confirmation of the view taken by his wife. " My dear doctor," said he, "you must not treat me as an ordinary patient ; there still remain so many things that I must bring to a. conclusion, that it is absolutely essential I should know my exact condition." 420 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. The doctor replied evasively. " Yes, my dear friend, you have built up one of the literary monuments of this nine- teenth century, but how many statues, how many sculptures are wanting to complete it ! " Balzac entered into the spirit of this metaphorical reply, and by the animation with which he took up the matter, greatly increased the feverishness of his condition. " Doctor," he continued, " you see then, how much I need to have my life prolonged, and you, who are one of the princes of science, you will tell me truthfully, how long you can give me. ... I am afraid I am more seriously ill than I thought ; but a man of my stamp must not die like an every-day mortal ; I owe some testamentary bequest to the public ; let me have time to attend to that." The doctor remained mute. " Come, doctor," said the patient anxiously, "you deal with me as if I were a child ; be candid with me ; you may let me know the worst." At last the doctor spoke. "Tell me," he replied, "how long will it take you to accomplish all you have planned," for he began to fear that Balzac might have in contemplation other and perhaps domestic testamentary dispositions, and these, for the sake of his wife and child, he would not prevent him from arranging. Balzac seemed to be making a mental calculation, and then as if moved by a vague misgiving, answered in an inquiring tone, "Six months?" and he fixed his eyes eagerly on the face of the physician as if he felt he would learn there his doom. " Six months ! six months ! " answered the man of medicine with indiscreet surprise the dying are very quick at catching an impression. " Ah ! " said he, "I see ; perhaps I ought to have put it at six weeks : but I might do much, if I work night and day, even in six iveelis" The doctor shook his head mournfully, and Balzac started BALZAC AND HIS DOCTOR. 421 up as if under a sense of injury, for he really seemed to have brought himself to believe in the power of his physician to shorten or prolong his life : the doctor does not appear to have taken alarm at the effect produced upon his patient by his reply and attitude, for he had made up his mind to take him at his word and to tell him what he fully believed to be the truth, as frankly as he had been asked it. Balzac read in the doctor's face the gravity of his condition, but was unwilling to be satisfied with merely inferring it. 11 1 see," said he, at length, " that I am a lost man, but I shall have the courage to hear your verdict ; say, you give me perhaps no more than six days ? " The doctor could not find it in his heart to reply, the tears came into his eyes, and he turned away to hide them. "Well! " said the sick man with a deep sigh, " since it must be so, I will hurry the work ; I must do it roughly ; my friends will dot the i's : I shall make time to over-run my fifty volumes ; I will obliterate all the questionable passages and will emphasize the pages I find good. Human will can accomplish a great deal ; God created the ivorld in six days : I will employ my six days in giving an immortal existence to the world I have created. : I will rest on the seventh day." But what a despairing expression, w r hat a despairing sigh accompanied these broken phrases ! While Balzac had been pleading with the physician wrestling as it were with death ten years seemed to have been added to his age ; a choking sound proceeded from his throat, and the hoarse efforts at utterance made by the doctor in reply, equally failed to produce an intelligible sound. " My dear patient," at last he contrived to say, while attempting a faint smile, "none of us, you know can reckon upon a single hour, and there will be many who are now in perfect health, who will die before you, yet; but .... you asked me for the truth, and I feel bound to be candid with 422 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. you : you spoke of testamentary declarations to your public .... Well ! make them to-day. . . . Perhaps you have other testamentary dispositions to make .... don't leave those for to-morrow." Balzac could not but understand : he raised his head and exclaimed with terror " I have then, perhaps, not six hours!" and he fell back upon the pillow. The doctor's last words had proved his death-blow. He, who had once been Balzac, was already no more ; he spoke not again ; that creative imagination was enveloped in the mists of death ; that luminous spirit was passing into its dark shadows. He had insisted on knowing the truth, and the truth had killed him before his time. The doctor's name must not be revealed ; he committed a grave error in unveiling death, who stood so near, when he might have yet, for awhile, concealed his presence! We should, perhaps, not have possessed another page of this author's hand, but, had Balzac not heard his condem- nation, he might have lived a few more days, and he would have taken his journey into the unknown world with the illusions of a man who falls asleep in the belief that he will awake again amid all his familiar surroundings. Mr. George Mr. George Pollock the surgeon, (nephew of General Sir George, of Indian fame) was once attending a relative of mine. " Well, Sir W.," said he, " I think we shall pull you through." The patient, who knew better, turned to me, as the doctor left the room, and remarked " II se dit chirurgien ; tout de meme, * il merit comine mi arracheur de dents.'" His death took place that same day, as the surgeon well knew it would. However, we can scarcely condemn any medical man for adopting this policy : the too conscientious * Herondas. FAITH V. PHYSIC. 423 physician, as we have seen, often takes away the patient's last chance, by his questionable candour. Let him but read the word "hopeless" in the doctor's face, and how- ever brave, he is lost : a dose of poison would not be more effectual . Faith in his medical attendant and faith in his recovery are the sick man's staff, and will often save him when " treatment " fails : the Greatest Physician told His patient in so many words it was " his faith that made him whole," and every doctor who is worth the extra shilling, to say nothing of the gold coin, knows the power of imagination. I once knew a worthy man a zealous " foreign correspon- Mr. c. u dent" of the Morning Post iu its palmy days : he travelled through Spain on behalf of that journal in the time of the Carlist disturbances, and having undergone fatigues, hard- ships, and even perils, as he was fond of relating, he returned in so dilapidated a condition that he could get no sleep without the help of narcotics. After a time his wife, alarmed at the probable results of the dangerous habit he was acquiring, and convinced that his return to the repose and regularity of domestic life had sufficed to enable him to dispense with the artificial aid, proposed to him to abandon, or at least to modify, his recourse to it : of course he would not listen to the prudent suggestion, for his imagination had completely over- mastered him. After another week or two, she again urged tlif reform, and obtained his consent to try the effect of half the dose ; but next morning, he declared he had not closed his eyes, and begged she would not name the subject again. The following night she made up some bread pills, rolled them well about in the box, so as to impart the usual flavour and administered them in the usual way ; no remark passed on either side, till about six weeks after, when she thought six- might safely inform him he had been sleeping on Faith ;ill that time ! Somewhat similar was the case of a patient of Mr. Skey's Mr - Ske J- 424 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. who, leading an idle, luxurious life, had gradually drifted into the hypochondriacal condition of an obese malade imaginaire. Every doctor knows how much less accessible to treatment are fancied, than real, ailments ; all that this poor lady wanted was the tone he knew to be attainable only by air, exercise, and regimen, but feeling it would be worse than useless to- inform her plainly of her state, he recommended abstinence from some few over-indulgences, but made it a great point that she should, every morning before breakfast, drink one glass of water from St. Anne's Well in Kensington Gardens, the powers of which, he assured her, were quite unknown to the general public, although the source was so accessible. About a fortnight after, he called to learn how the remedy was succeeding, but finding her in the same low, nervous condition, he asked her if she had taken the prescribed dose regularly every day. " Oh yes," she replied, " with one exception, and that day my maid had a cold so I couldn't send her for it." So it turned out that the doctor's ingenious expedient had entirely failed in its object, the walk, and not the water, being the remedy he had relied on. No doubt this is more than half the secret of all " watercures." Dr. Eiiiotson. I used to meet Dr. Elliotson at the house of a common friend with whom he often dined. He was exceedingly unlike the typical M.D. ; he had a Jewish cast of counte- nance ; and, in disaccord with the usage among physicians he discarded the conventional accessories of costume, and also wore a great deal of hair on his face; he was an extremely agreeable talker and was very popular in society, as (until his secession from accepted medical principles) he had been, in the profession. His figure did not suggest the idea that he lived by the best medical rule, for he was unusually stout. I)r. Elliotson's character stood high for honesty and con- scientiousness, but he was decidedly crotchety. He had risen rapidly in his practice, and for a long time was making an almost incredibly large income, when he abandoned his DE. ELLIOTSON. 425- old system of medicine and took to mesmerism. From the time this became known, by his introducing it into his. practice, most of his patients abandoned him one by one ; and he was of course compelled to give up the medical appointments he had long held with credit and honour as well as financial advantage ; still, being a man of high principle, and, regarding as matter of serious conviction what appeared to others to be fads and whims, he was con- tent to let his position go, rather than abandon his belief. Elliotson was the son of a druggist, and was born in 1791 ; he had been educated at Edinburgh and Cambridge, but did not become an M.D. till 1821 : he died in 1868. Together with much intelligence, he had a vast store of energy and perse- verance, but was always remarkable for a love of originality. Notwithstanding this, he was highly esteemed by members of the profession, and his lectures on diseases of the heart added considerably to his reputation : he was the first who employed the stethoscope, and attached great importance to its use. After his adoption of his new 7 ideas he used to give mesmeric seances at his house ; these were largely attended,, and the usual experiments were exhibited, but, if believed in by some, they w r ere scoffed at by others ; he also started the Zoixt, a mesmeric monthly, which he continued for some years. Dr. Elliotson's diagnosis was considered very careful and correct, and as long as he practised on the normal prin- ciples of medicine, his patients had great confidence in his perspicacity. Dr. Elliotson was what the French callfrileux, and had a dread of draughts. One day Haydon the painter calling on him, was shown into his morning- room, while the servant went to apprize his master. " Phew ! " exclaimed Haydon to himself, " how can he live in such an atmosphere ? " and without further reflection he threw up the window-sash. Presently the doctor earner sliding in, after his gentle manner, and, shaking his visitor by 426 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. the hand, heartily welcomed him, when suddenly he became aware of a chilly sensation which seemed to horrify him ; for, flying to the bell which he rang violently, he exclaimed, " Good God ! why ! have the servants gone mad ? An open window ! " and when the servant appeared, he addressed him with a vehemence which would not be appeased, and left no opening for an explanation. But it was a mania of Haydon's to live with open win- dows, and he is said to have behaved in a similar way at Lord Yarmouth's. His lordship, however, took it differently, for he simply closed the window, and entered into con- versation. The friend, through whom I knew Elliotson, used to tell of a, cure he had effected on her maid, by the simplest means, and without medicine : the young woman was continually subject to a complaint, not uncommon among " pampered menials " indigestion. Dr. Elliotson's remedy was the enforcing of a very simple rule : he probably knew what are the habits of the class to which she belonged, and desired her to abstain from liquids, before, or while, eating, allowing her one draught (if necessary) in the middle of dinner (the coup du milieu of Brillat-Savarin) and one more at the end, alleging that nature supplies the right sort and the right amount of moisture during mastication, and resists the interference of any extraneous assistance. This was an ancient rule observed in the nursery and schoolroom of the last genera- tion, when the beverage of children was good, plain, whole- some toast and water. I don't believe a modem child knows the taste of it ! and the allowance was limited to two draughts during the meal. I have heard a French physician say that the sip of sherry or Madeira after soup, called by Brill at -Savarin the " coup du medeein," was, in his opinion, so useful it might be considered a "coup de pied aumedecin" but it was only to be a " sip." * * A "sip " is a somewhat vague and arbitrary measure. On certain grand oc- casions, the Temple dinners terminate with the passing round of the loving-cup CHARLES LEVER, M.D. 427 Many years ago I was attended, for an accident to my Charles -i i . - -n T i i Lever, M.D. hand, by Charles Lever, then practising as English physician in Brussels, cordially hating his profession all the while, and struggling like a caged bird, not only to spread his wings but to fly into the realms of literature. As he made no secret of his proclivities, I don't think his patients can have had much confidence in him, in his medical capacity ; he always appeared in his consulting-room habited in a black velvet dressing-gown tied with a scarlet silk girdle and tassels, and always carried a pen behind his ear, not so much for writing prescriptions, as to be ready to rush to his MSS. the moment he had disposed of his patient. Charles Lever had considerable musical genius, as those who know that inimitable little bit of musical Irish humour, " Widow Malone" can testify. As a WTiter, his admirers are, or rather were, very numerous : but writers of light literature now succeed each other so quickly, the old have to make place for the new. The mention of this arch little song recalls the first time I heard it sung, and with admirable appreciation too, by an English medical specialist of repute, at an hospital entertain- ment. It was doubly good-natured on the part of one of the faculty, as' it is generally (though I venture to to think mis- takenly) supposed, that medical men can never exhibit a proficiency in any extraneous accomplishment, without compromising their professional character. So far from sharing this view, I can only say that I was so favourably impressed by the evidence this gentleman's performance afforded, not only of the versatility of his genius, but of the containing white wine, sweetened and curiously flavoured, called " sack." The butler hands and replenishes the cups, each student being allowed one sip. It is stated, however, that so cleverly are some of these " sips " managed, that a much larger quantity of liquor disappears than would be supposed possible, and on one occasion, the number of diners being under seventy, they contrived to " sip " away thirty-six quarts among them, making an average of over one pint to each person rather a copious " sip " ! We might say here " There's many a ' sip ' 'twixt the cup and the lip." 428 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Campbell de Morgan. A vegetarian doctor. cheerfulness of his character, and the human side of his- nature, that I immediately thought if ever I required the lights of a medical man in that branch of the profession, I should certainly prefer him to any other. Campbell de Morgan, the great cancer-specialist, was an admirable flutist, but it was with great difficulty he could be induced to play in society, I believe, from entertaining the feeling that such an accomplishment detracted from the seriousness of his character. I once heard an amusing anecdote of a well-known vege- tarian doctor residing not a hundred miles from Cavendish Square. The narrator was a Yorkshire Squire leading an active country life, joining heartily in its sports, and in- dulging as heartily in the pleasures of the table. He used to boast that he thoroughly enjoyed his four meat-meals a day, and the regime answered very well . . . for a time ; but there came a day when there was obviously something wrong, and the symptoms went from bad to worse, till a friend urged him to run up to London and see Dr. - . The doctor diagnosed the case, shook his head, and told him there was only one remedy and that was in his own hands ; he had simply to diminish the quantity of flesh-meat he had been allowing himself; week by week he was to knock off a certain amount of meat at each meal, till he took none, and then to proceed on a system of vegetable diet. The patient consented, and at the end of a twelvemonth was perfectly cured. When, however, he came to the end of six more months of what he called his " vegetating life," he felt so well and hearty, he thought himself cured for good and all, and, as he had left off his heavy feeding by weekly intervals, so he returned, by the same procedure, to his old course. By the end of the second half year he was once more seriously ill, and went back in great alarm to Cavendish Square. "Ah!" said the doctor, with a toss of his head the moment he recognized him, and he turned away and waved him off. " It's useless your coming to me ; I can do nothing A VEGETARIAN DOCTOR. 429 for you ; I see what it is, you've been at your nasty carcases .again." As to vegetarianism, is it quite clear that those who adopt it are practically satisfied with a doctrine so plausible in theory ? And is it not perhaps true (as has been asserted) that those who debar themselves from animal food, secretly hanker after the flesh-pots of Egypt, and when they refuse roast-beef are very glad to get its gravy over their vegetables? I know vegetarians who, having brought themselves to death's door, have very quietly consented to be brought round by beef-tea, and are willing to wink at its being administered, provided it be " unbeknowns " to them. The last time I was at Pisa I had the curiosity to visit the curiously beautiful old market-place, but, having to return through the shambles, so horrifying was the sight of the local " butcher's meat " as it hung there, that I became a convert to vegetarianism on the spot. Gradually the impression faded and so did my vegetarianism ; but I do my best never to revert to it, and forbear to enter, even here, into a descrip- tion of what I saw. If I mention it at all, it is to facilitate the efforts of those who are trying to dispense with animal food, by advising them to inspect that department of the Pisan market, for themselves. Vegetarian advocates argue, not without plausibility, that a man who would shrink from killing a sheep, has no right to eat mutton. If this doctrine were accepted, there would soon be an end of the meat-market. When the meat-market is gone, however, we shall have to consider how we are to get on with the other details of life, without slaughter- ing animals. It does not seem to have occurred to vege- tarians to dispense with shoes, boots, harness, saddles, book -bindings, portmanteaus, and other indispensable articles made from leather; they refuse to eat jelly, but it How the use of glue ; they shrink from the flesh of hares and rabbits, but readily employ their fur, and we never heard of a vegetarian lady who, declining a slice of a 430 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. pheasant, yet considers it criminal to adorn her head with his feathers. Vegetarians, taken on their own principles,, are, therefore, ludicrously inconsistent ; and, moreover, they eschew wine and beer, though essentially vegetable com- pounds. Those who take the humanitarian view of the matter are inconsistent in another way, for while they would not kill a bullock for the world, they express no com- punction at the wholesale murders they occasion every time they eat a cabbage ! There are sects even among vegetarians. Animal food,, such as it is, they consume without being conscious of it r but those who depart from the strict vegetarian code and consciously comprise in their diet Vegetables, Eggs, and Milk are contemptuously designated by their more rigid brethren, themselves vegetarians purs et simples, as " Veins." Prince Prince Hoheiilohe's miracles, much talked about in the toheniohe. ear }y p^ o f ^ ne century, obtained extensive credit all over Europe. A relative of my own, afflicted with a cancer, and alas! having practically discerned that " physicians were in vain," sent to the Prince a notice of her case and asked his prayers. She received a considerate and sympathetic reply with the most consoling promises, but from whatever cause they remained ineffectual and she died of the complaint. A case recorded in the press of the time, February, 1834, however, represents the Prince's powers as occasionally only too efficacious. This case was that of a beautiful young lady, whose rare charms were marred by an unfortunate disfigure- ment ; the left leg being shorter by four inches than the right. Prince Hohenlohe was asked to say four masses, one, apparently, for each superfluous inch ! Unfortunately he misread the request and said eight masses instead of four. The consequence was disastrous, for it was now the right leg which had become too short, by four inches.* * This untoward success recalls the story of an old Irish woman found praying,. "DR." TAYLOR OF BRIGHTON. 431 This was the Prince's last miracle, for he was so distressed at the mischief he had occasioned, that he renounced any further attempt to interfere with the decrees of Providence. It was said, however, that he, somewhat illogically, trans- ferred his powers to an old woman of Sonnendorf, in Saxony, Schumann by name. There is probably no one among those who knew Brighton Dr. Taylor in the earlier half of the century, who does not remember of Bn g hton - p r " r j; a yi or ( as ne was called) of " Newnham and Taylor " on the Old Steine. Very popular he was among young and old, rich and poor, and as jolly a doctor as perhaps ever bled a patient or prescribed a bolus ; for, even down to Taylor's days, the Sangrado theory was still in vogue, though not to the rabid extent of a somewhat earlier period : no, in Taylor's days it was rather " The blue, blue pill, And the black, black draught in the morning ! " Taylor, in due course, slipped out of the Newnham partnership, and set up on his own account. He drove not only a flourishing business, but a splendid pair of bays,, during an incredible series of years I don't mean to say that the patients out-lasted the whole period of Taylor's practice, any more than the horses it was like the brook which we habitually call the same, though each day, nay, each minute, whether we note it or not, it is a new brook that flows at our feet. I can remember him late in the twenties, in full practice, for he was one day summoned to ascertain by a passing tourist, who inquired what it could be she was asking for with so much vehemence. " Faith, yer Honor," replied the poor old soul, "my darter's been marrid this two year, and niver a child, and I'm askin* the Blessed Virgin to sind her a baby." A year after, the tourist returning by the same road looked in at the cottage and inquired what had been the result of the prayers. " Och, yer Honor ! would ye belave it ; I can't have explained meself roightly ! the Blessed Virgin has sint me two grandchilder instid av one, but it's me tin- marrid darter they've come to." 432 GOSSIP OF THE CENTUEY. that there were no broken bones after a fall I had from my pony at Boss's riding- school. He continued to dash about Brighton with the reputation of a "Jehu" long after he had retired from professional duties, his jolly face and jovial manners still helping to render him a universal favourite. There were, during Taylor's practice, several physicians in Brighton making sorry attempts to gain a footing, but as long as Taylor was to the fore, they seemed to have no chance ; it was Figaro qua, Figaro la, Figaro su, Figaro gin. He was in constant requisition, and Brightonians of all classes, visitors and residents, were perfectly content with his ministrations. His manner was bright and hope- ful, his bills . . . comparatively moderate for he made his claims in the form of bills, and there was no question of that puzzling remuneration a fee. The generality of patients are apt to expect too much from the Faculty, and hence their disappointment at the frequent failures of doctors. It is wonderful, however, to what an extent a shrewd and politic doctor can supplement the limited means he really commands, by drawing on the imagination of his patients and leading them to believe in him and trust him. Nature, of course, must have done something for such a doctor, for it is not given to all to inspire their patients with this trustfulness. A bright face, a cheery tone, a self- confident air are part of the physician's stock-in-trade, and if not born with these qualifications he must contrive to acquire them, if he would succeed. If their attainment prove beyond his efforts he had better shut up shop or rather, he had better open shop ; he might sell medicines, but could never arrive at prescribing them. We may depend on it the Blandi Doctores are the most popular, though there is a certain affectation of roughness which exercises its influence also. Mr. Richard I knew a lady who was attended by Mr. Eichard Part- ridge, and after his death by a medical baronet, still living, PHASES OF THE FACULTY. 433 whom I will therefore not name. I have heard her say that after a visit from the former, though the time had passed mostly in friendly chat (with but a slight allusion to her ail- ments) she felt herself a different being for the rest of the day ; whereas, the mere sound of the carriage-wheels of the latter, as they drove up the street, would throw her into a state of depression which did not leave her even when she heard them roll away : she told me his presence always suggested that of an undertaker ; and yet there could have been no comparison between the professional abilities of the two doctors. It is curious to note the variety of tones adopted by different members, or rather classes, of the Faculty. The rough-and-ready style culminated in Abernethy. His origi- nality and his successes excused it, and his patients liked to repeat his odd sayings. There have been few such since, unless we may classify with him the late Dr. Matthews Dr. Matthews Duncan, nicknamed by some of his patients " Dr. Gruffy." Doctors who adopt this method of treating their patients, generally know what they are about, and probably possess a peculiar gift of manner which enables them to employ it with advantage, for we find that class of doctor rarely disliked ; but no doubt a certain knowledge of human nature and also of individual temperament, guides the doctor's instinct, and tells him which of his patients will prefer, and which will resent, it. In some cases it is the soft and sympathetic tone which alone serves, and the doctor must needs gain a habit of expressing himself as if he were actually associated with his patient in trying the remedies he proposes. Doctors who feel this, have the art of identifying themselves with their patients and putting themselves, in imagination, in the same position ; an ailment is softened to the sufferer when it can be made to appear it is shared. I knew a doctor who had acquired such a habit of taking part in his patients' complaints that he one day said to an old lady who con- VOL. i. 29 434 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. suited him for a cold : " ' We ' will tallow ' our ' nose, and put ' our ' feet in hot water, and then * we ' will go to bed." Of the blander class, too, was the doctor of whom, when attending the Princess Amelia, the old king asked if she might take an ice. THE PRINCESS AMELIA. 11 As many as your Majesty thinks fit," replied the courteous Court physician, with an obsequious bow, "pro- vided they are warmed first." The last illness of the Princess Amelia, if it supplied a medical joke, was marked with a very sad interest : she was PRINCESS AMELIA'S DOCTOR. 435 the King's favourite daughter, and her too obvious condition of health filled her poor old father with the most wearing anxiety : more than this, when she was on her death-bed, a fearful shock awaited him. It was only then that she con- fessed to him for the first time, that she was secretly married. The King was struck aghast ; but when, on his inquiring to whom, the Princess replied, " To a man you have always honoured with your special favour General Fitzroy," the King uttered a cry of horror, and fled from the room. Neither the General nor the Princess were in any way aware of that officer's parentage, but the King knew only too well who was his father. The Princess died shortly after making this ominous revelation, and the terrible nature of it, together with her death, proved too much for the already impaired mental condition of the King, whose severest attack, from which he never recovered, was thought to have been hastened toy the effect of these disasters. Of the bluffer school of medicos, was a famous oculist Dr. , whom I was urged to consult about twenty years ago ; and oculist who was much put out by my absolute refusal to submit to an application of belladonna, without which he said, he 'could not make a satisfactory diagnosis : however, he ex- amined my eyes, affecting an ominous and perplexing silence, all that he condescended to utter, being a mysterious grunt : provoked into an inquiry, I said at last : "What is it, doctor? have you discovered that it is a 'cataract ? " '" Cataract ? no " ; "I wish it was I " he answered in a hollow and foreboding voice. As he vouchsafed no further information I had to con- clude that he thought it a very serious case : if he did, all I can say is, his opinion was as bad as his grammar, for I have steered clear of oculists ever since, without being any the worse for it. Cyrus Redding tells a story of Dr. Wolcot which is not Dr - Woicot. without point : visiting him one day, when he was very 436 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. Taylor, the oculist. Mr, Richard Partridge. old, he found him in his bedroom, laid up, and with a bandage over his eyes. " Why, what has happened, Doctor ? " said the visitor. "Ah! since you were here," he answered, "Adams the oculist, (afterwards Sir Wm. Kawson), who goes about blinding everybody, persuaded me to submit to the operation of couching." " And you consented ? " " Not on both eyes ; I only agreed that he should try what he could do with one." " And with what success ? " " Oh ! of course so famous a practitioner could not fail, and he has succeeded in curing my eye, for ever, ... of seeing. I could, before, distinguish the figure of any one between my eye and the light. I have just escaped an inflammation that might have reached the other eye, besides enduring three or four weeks of confinement ; I outwitted him,, however." "How?" " I gave him the worst eye to block up. He had per- suaded me into it ; but at eighty it was folly ; he only wanted my name to puff a cure with." Taylor, a well-known oculist of a somewhat later day, was famous for drawing the long bow, especially when recounting feats of his own performance. One day when this specialist was dining with the barristers of the Oxford Circuit, and talking overmuch of the clever things he had done in his. time, Bearcroft began to be irritated by his vanity, and turning sharply on him said : " Chevalier, you have told us of much that you have done and can do, isn't it about time you tried to tell us of some- thing you can't do ? ' "I can manage that without much trying," answered Taylor ; "I can't pay my share of the dinner-bill, and that is a thing you can do much better than I." Mr. Eichard Partridge, the surgeon whose cheeriness of DR. NELATON. 437 manner (already mentioned) stood him in good stead, I often had occasion to see. It will be remembered that he was sent over to diagnose the condition of Garibaldi's wounded foot. In this case he entirely failed, and even advised amputation ; however, Perizofif, the celebrated Russian surgeon, who was also despatched to the patient, was equally at fault : last of all came Nelaton, whose Dr. Neiaton. reputation was based principally on the rapidity and pene- tration of his medical judgment : he could take in the LE DOCTEUR NELATON. detail of the most complicated case almost at a glance, and his first opinion was generally correct. His remedies, modified with judgment according to the circumstances of the case, were always marked by extreme simplicity. The cause of the condition which the wound 'had reached at the time that the Italian surgeons had abandoned the patient, and that these foreigners had been called in, was at once manifest to the French practitioner. He dif- 438 GOSSIP OF THE CENTURY. fered in opinion from his English and Russian colleagues y and was perfectly satisfied as to the presence of the bullet,, and of this he proceeded at once to convince them. The discovery was ingeniously made by sounding the wound with a small porcelain ball on the point of the probe. Garibaldi's gratitude to his deliverer was extreme, and Nelaton might have pocketed a large sum, but he (diplo- matically ?) refused to accept any fee, giving fine, sentimental reasons for this forbearance, to the effect that it was enough for him to have saved the life of the greatest hero, &c., Ac . If I say " diplomatically," it is under the impression that it was not in Nelaton's habits to display so lofty a spirit, and if he did not take the fee on this occasion, his celebrity so greatly increased after the incident that it led to his taking many others ; for he died worth 6,000,000 (of francs), but even in francs it was a respectable sort of fortune for a doctor to have accumulated, though he had had the good luck to marry a young heiress. Dr. Birch told me, as authentic, an amusing story of this eminent French doctor. He had been attending the young and only son of the Comtesse tie - , who had met with a not very severe accident at play. The mother, however, measured her gratitude more by the value of the child's life and the anxiety the accident had caused her, than by the services of the surgeon, who nevertheless had brought him through very satisfactorily. "When he was taking leave after his last visit, wishing to express to him a sense of her recognition of his care and patience, she presented him with a handsomely embroidered pocket-book, expressly worked for him by her own fair fingers, and she intimated to him that she had paid him this little compliment. To the Comtesse 's surprise and mortification, not only did Nelaton not show any appreciation of her amiable intention, but contented himself with bowing stiffly, and ignoring the gracious offering. " Madame la Comtesse," said he, " the pocket-book is quite PHYSICIAN'S FEES. 439