LIBRARY THE UNIVERSITY OE CALIFORNIA SANTA BARBARA PRESENTED BY MRS. HENRY ADAMS kt r f^ FIFTY-ONE YEARS OF VICTORIAN LIFE ■ ^^^^^^^;8. fs^W ^^^L ^^^^^^^^^y^ ^H j^H ^^^^^m^ jH ^^i 'J ™ L-^i -r ^ ^^KjI '^^Vli '^H ■-"-■r ,,'~Vai»^-.- t^ .a^- ^nlaraxin't L^vii/itcss c/ jcrscij a FIFTY-ONE YEARS OF VICTORIAN LIFE BY THE DOWAGER COUNTESS OF JERSEY NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 1922 DEDICATED TO MY CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN Printed in Great Britain by Bazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury. JL "What is this child of man that can conquer Time and that is braver than Love ? Even Memory." LOED DUNSANY. Though " a Sorrow's Crown of Sorrow " Be • remembering happier things," Present joy will shine the brighter If our morn a radiance flings. We perchance may thwart the future If we will not look before, And upon a past which pains us We may fasten Memory's door. But we will not, cannot, banish Bygone pleasure from our side. Nor will doubt, beyond the storm-cloud, Shall bo Light at Eventide. M. E. J. CONTENTS CHAPTER I AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD The Duke of Wellington — Travelling in the Fifties — Governesses — " Mrs. Gailey " — Queen Victoria at Stoneleigh — A narrow escape — Life at Stoneleigh — Rectors and vicars — Theatricals . . pp. 1-22 CHAPTER II A VICTORIAN GIRL Mantone — Genoa — Trafalgar veterans — Lord Muncaster and Greek brigands — The Grosvenor family — Uncles and aunts — Confirmation — " Coming out " — Ireland — Killarney — The O'Donoghuo — Mj'ths and legends — The giant Benadadda ..... pp. 23-50 CHAPTER III MARRIAGE Fanny Kemble — An old-fashioned Cliristmas — A pre-matrimonial party — Fonthill Abbey — Engagement — Married to Lord Jersey pp. 61-64 CHAPTER IV V EARLY MARRIED LIFE Lord Jersey's mother — In London — Isola Bella, Oannos — Oxfordshire neighbours — Cuversfiold Church — Life at Middloton — Mr. Dinriicli — Froudo and KingHloy — JaiiioM Kussoll Lowell — T. liughoH and J. K. Lowoll — Mr. Gladjitono on Immortality — Thought-reading — Tom Hughos and Rugby, Tonne— ee — Cardinal Newman .... pp. 05-93 vii viii CONTENTS CHAPTER V BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 Sarah Bernhardt— Death of Gilbert Leigh — In Italy, 1884 — Court Ball in Berlin — The Crown Prince Frederick — ^Prinee Bismarck — Conversation with Bismarck — Bismarck and Lord Salisbury — Thanksgiving Service — Trials of Court Ofificials — The Naval Review — Knowsley — Apotheosis of the Queen PP. 94-121 CHAPTER VI GHOST STORIES AND TRAVELS IN GREECE Lord Halsbury's ghost story — The ghostly reporter — A Jubilee sermon — Marathon — Miss Tricoupi — Nauplia — The Lauritun Mines — Hadji Petros — Olympia — Zante pp. 122-140 CHAPTER VII VOYAGE TO INDIA — HYDERABAD Mr. Joseph Chamberlain — Departure for India — Colonel Olcott and Professor Max Miiller — Sir Samuel Baker — Mahableshwar — H. H, the Aga Khan — Rapes at Hyderabad — -H.H. the Nizam of Hyderabad — Purdah ladies — Breakfast in a zenana .... pp. 141-161 CHAPTER VIII MADRAS, CALCUTTA, AND BENARES Brahmin philosophers — Faith of educated Hindus — Theosophists at Adyar — The Ranees of Travancore — The Princesses of Tanjore — "The Heart of Montrose " — The Palace of Madura — Rous Peter's Sacred Door — Loyalty of native Indians — Passengers on the Pundua — The Brahmo Somaj — Maharajah of Benares — Marriages of infants and widows pp. 162-187 CHAPTER IX NORTHERN INDIA AND JOURNEY HOME The Relief of Lucknow — View from the Kotab Minar — Sekundra and Futtehpore Sekree — ^The legend of Krislma — The Jains — The Mahara- jah of Bhownuggar — Baroda — English as Lingua Franca — Meditations of a Western wanderer — An English plimi-pudding — The Greek Royal Family — Original derivations ...... pp. 188-211 CONTENTS ix CHAPTER X WINDSOR — EGYPT AND SYRIA Dinner at Windsor — Voyago up the Nile — Choucry Pasha, Princess Nazli — The Pigmies — Inn of the Good Samaritan — The Holy City — Balbec — Damascus, Lady Ellen borough — Oriental methods of trade — Sm>Tna — Constantinople — The Selamlik — The Orient Express — Story of a picture ......... pp. 212-239 CHAPTER XI FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AUSTRALIA War Office red tape — Balmoral — Farewell to England — Voyage on the Arcadia — The Federation Convention — The delegates — The Blue Mountains — Sir Alfred Stephen — Domestic Conditions — Correspondence with Lord Derby — Labour Legislation — The Ex-Kaiser — Lord Derby's poem .......... pp. 240-265 CHAPTER XII FURTHER niPRESSIONS OF AUSTRALIA — NEW ZEALAND AND NEW CALEDONIA Yarrangobilly Cavea — Dunedin — The New Zealand Sounds — Hot Springs of New Zealand — Huia Onslow — Noumea — The Governor of New Caledonia — The Convict Settlement — Convicts in former days — Death of Lord Ancram pp. 206-280 CHAPTER XIII TONGA AND SAMOA Tongan ladies — Arrival at Apia — Of^rman plantations — R. L. Stevenson — King Malifitoa — Tlie Enchantod Forest — King Matuafa — The Kava Ceremony— A native duno'TESs of Jersey (photogravure) Froiitispiece After the portrait 6y EUit Robert* at Otterley Park. wkcma PAOB Stoneleigii Abbey . . . . . .18 The Library, Middleton Park .... 68 From a photograph by the prettnt Counteis oj Jeriey. MiDDLETON Park ....... 68 From a photograph by the present Countess o] Jersey. OsTERLEY Park .....•• 238 From a photograph by W . U. Orote. Group at Middleton Park, Christmas, 1904 . 370 XI FIFTY-ONE YEARS OF VICTORIAN LIFE CHAPTER I AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD I WAS born at Stoneleigh Abbey on October 29tli, 1849. My father has told me that immediately afterwards — I suppose next day — I was held up at the window for the members of the North Warwickshire Hunt to drink my health. I fear that their kind wishes were so far of no avail that I never became a sportswoman, though I always lived amongst keen followers of the hounds. For many years the first meet of the season was held at Stoneleigh, and large hospitality extended to the gentlemen and farmers within the Abbey and to the crowd without. Almost anyone could get bread and cheese and beer outside for the asking, till at last some limit had to be placed when it was reported that special trains were being run from Birmingham to a neighbouring town to enable the populace to attend this sporting carnival at my father's expense. He was a splendid man and a fearless rider while health and strength permitted — rather too fearless at times — and among the many applicants for his bounty were men who based their claims to assistance on the alleged fact that they had picked up Lord Leigh after a fall out hunting. It was always much more difficult to restrain him from giving than to induce him to give. 1 2 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i My mother, a daughter of Lord Westminster, told me that from the moment she saw him she had never any doubt as to whom she would marry. No wonder. He was exceptionally handsome and charming, and I believe he was as prompt in falling in love with her as she confessed to having been with him. An old relative who remembered their betrothal told me that she knew what was coming when Mr. Leigh paid £5 for some trifle at a bazaar where Lady Caroline Grosvenor was selling. The sole reason for recording this is to note that fancy bazaars were in vogue so long ago as 1848. My mother was only twenty when she married, and very small and pretty. I have heard that soon after their arrival at Stoneleigh my father gave great satis- faction to the villagers, who were eagerly watching to see the bride out walking, by lifting his little wife in his arms and carrying her over a wet place in the road. This was typical of his unfailing devotion through fifty- seven years of married life — a devotion which she returned in full measure. I was the eldest child of the young parents, and as my grandfather, Chandos Lord Leigh, was then alive, our home for a short time was at Adlestrop House in Gloucestershire, which also belonged to the family ; but my grandfather died and we moved to Stoneleigh when I was far too young to remember any other home. In those days we drove by road from one house to the other, and on one occasion my father undertook to convey my cradle in his dog- cart, in the space under the back seat usually allotted to dogs. In the middle of a village the door of this receptacle flew open and the cradle shot out into the road, slightly embarrassing to a very young man. About the earliest thing I can recollect was seeing THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 3 the Crystal Palace Building when in Hyde Park. I do not suppose that I was taken inside, but 1 distinctly remember the great glittering glass Palace when I was driving with my mother. Of course we had pictures of the Great Exhibition and heard plenty about it, but oddly enough one print that impressed me most was a French caricature which represented an Englishman distributing the prizes to an expectant throng with words to this effect : " Ladies and Gentlemen, some intrusive foreigners have come over to compete with our people and have had the impertinence to make some things better than we do. You will, however, quite understand that none of the prizes will be given to these outsiders." It was my earliest lesson in doubting the lasting effects of attempts to unite rival countries in any League of Nations. Somewhere about this time I had the honour of being presented to the great Duke of Wellington in the long Gallery (now, alas ! no more) at Grosvenor House. I do not remember the incident, but he was the Hero in those days, and I was told it so often that I felt as it I could recall it. My father said he kissed me, but my mother's more modest claim was that he shook hands. My parents were each endowed with nine brothers and sisters — i.e. my father was one of ten who all lived till past middle life, my mother was one of thirteen of whom ten attained a full complement of years. In- deed, when my parents celebrated their golden wedding they had sixteen brothers and sisters still alive. As almost all these uncles and aunts married and most of them had large families, it will be readily believed that we did not lack cousins, and the long Gallery was a eplendid gatliering-place for the ramiiications of the 4 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i Grosvenor side of our family. Apart from the imposing pictures, it was full of treasures, such as a miniature crystal river which flowed when wound up and had little swans swimming upon it. It was here, later on in my girlhood, that I saw the first Japanese Embassy to England, stately Daimios or Samurai in full native costume and with two swords — a great joy to all of us children. To go back to early recollections — my next clear impression is of the Crimean War and knitting a pair of red mufietees for the soldiers. Plenty of " com- forts " were sent out even in those days. Sir George Higginson once told me that when boxes of miscellaneous gifts arrived it was the custom to hold an auction. On one occasion among the contents were several copies of Boyle's Court Guide and two pairs of ladies' stays ! So useful ! The latter were bestowed upon the French vivandiere. No W.A.A.C.s then to benefit. After the Crimean War came the Indian Mutiny, and our toy soldiers represented English and Sepoys instead of English and Russians. Children in each generation I suppose follow wars by their toys. Despite the comradeship of English and French in the Crimea, I do not believe that we ever quite ceased to regard France as the hereditary foe. A contemporary cousin was said to have effaced France from the map of Europe ; I do not think we were quite so daring. In all, I rejoiced in five brothers and two sisters, but the fifth brother died at fourteen months old before our youngest sister was born. His death was our first real sorrow and a very keen one. Long before that, however, when we were only three children, Gilbert, the brother next to me, a baby sister Agnes, and my- self, our adventurous parents took us to the South of TRAVELLING IN THE FIFTIES 5 France. I was four years old at tlie time and the existence of a foreign land was quite a new light to me. I well remember running into the nursery and triumphantly exclaiming, " There is a country called France and I am going there ! " My further recollections are vague until we reached Lyons, where the railway ended and our large travel- ling carriage brought from England was put on a boat — steamer, I suppose — and thus conveyed to Avignon. Thence we drove, sleeping at various towns, until we reached Mentone, where we spent some time, and I subsequently learnt that we were then the only English in the place. I think that my parents were very brave to take about such young children, but I suppose the experiment answered pretty well, as a year later they again took Gilbert and me to France — this time to Normandy, where I spent my sixth birthday, saw the great horses dragging bales of cotton along the quays at Rouen, and was enchanted with the ivory toys at Dieppe. I think that people who could afford it travelled more in former days than is realised. Both my grand- parents made prolonged tours with most of their elder children. My grandfather Westminster took my mother and her elder sisters in his yacht to Constantinople and Rome. My mother well remembered some of her experiences, including purchases from a Turkish shop- keeper who kept a large cat on his counter and served various comestibles with his hands, wiping them be- tween each Hale on the animal's fur. At Rome she told me how she and one of her sisters, girls of some twelve and thirteen years old, used to wander out alone into the Campagna in the early morning, wjiich seems very strange in view of the stories of restraint placed 2 6 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i upon children in bygone days. As to my grandfather Leigh, I believe he travelled with his family for about two years, to Switzerland, France and the North of Italy. They had three carriages, one for the parents, one for the schoolroom, and one for the nursery. A courier escorted them, and an a vant- courier rode on in front with bags of five- franc pieces to secure lodgings when they migrated from one place to another. On one occasion on the Riviera they met the then Grand Duke Constantine, who thrust his head out of the window and exclaimed " Toute Angleterre est en route ! " After our return from Normandy we were placed in charge of a resident governess, a young German, but as far as I can recollect she had very little control over us. We discovered that the unlucky girl, though of German parentage, had been born in Russia, and with the unconscious cruelty of children taunted her on this account. Anyhow her stay was short, and she was succeeded about a year later by an English- woman, Miss Custarde, who kept us in very good order and stayed till she married when I was fourteen. Her educational efforts were supplemented by masters and mistresses during the London season and by French resident governesses in the winter months, but I do not think that we were at all overworked. I doubt whether Miss Custarde would have been considered highly educated according to modern stan- dards, but she was very good in teaching us to look up information for ourselves, which was just as useful as anything else. Her strongest point was music, but that she could not drive into me, and my music lessons were a real penance to teacher and pupil alike. She would give me lectures during their progress on such GOVERNESSES 7 topics as the Parable of the Talents — quite ignoring the elementary fact that though I could learn most of my lessons quickly enough I had absolutely no talent for music. She was, however, a remarkable woman with great influence, not only over myself, but over my younger aunts and over other men and women. She was very orderly, and proud of that quality, but she worked too much on my conscience, making me regard trivial faults as actual sins which prevented her from kissing me or showing me affection — an ostracism which generally resulted in violent fits of penitence. She had more than one admirer before she ended by marrying a schoolmaster, with whom she used to take long walks in the holidays. One peculiarity was that she would give me sketches of admirers and get me to write long stories embodying their imaginary adven- tures. I suppose these were shown as great jokes to the heroes and their friends. Of course she did not think I knew the " inwardness " of her various friend- ships, equally of course as time went on I understood them perfectly. Miss Custarde is not the only gover- ness I have known who acquired extraordinary influ- ence over her pupils. In Marcel Prevost's novel Anges Gardiens, which represents the dangers to French families of engaging foreign governesses, he makes the Belgian, Italian, and German women all to a greater or less extent immoral, but the Englishwoman, though at least as detestable as the others, is not immoral ; the great evil which she inflicts on the family which engages her is the absolute power which she acquires over her pupil. The whole book is very unfair and M. J'revost seems to overlook the slur which he casts on his own countrymen, as none of the men appear able to resist the wiles of the sirens engaged to look after 8 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i the girls of their families ; but it is odd that he should realise the danger of undue influence and attribute it only to the Englishwoman. Why should this be a characteristic of English governesses — supposing his experience (borne out by my own) to be typical ? Is it an Englishwoman's love of power and faculty for concentration on the object which she wishes to attain ? We liked several of our foreign governesses well enough, but they exercised no particular influence — and as a rule their engagements were only temporary. I do not think that Miss Custarde gave them much opportunity of ascendancy. With one her relations were so strained that the two ladies had their suppers at different tables in the schoolroom, and when the Frenchwoman wanted the salt she rang the bell for the schoolroom-maid to bring it from her English colleague's table. However, I owed a great deal to Miss Custarde and know that her affection for all of us was very real. She died in the autumn of 1920, having retained all her faculties till an advanced age. After all no human being could compete with our mother in the estimation of any of her children. Small and fragile and often suffering from ill- health, she had almost unbounded power over everyone with whom she came in contact, and for her to express an opinion on any point created an axiom from which there was no appeal. As middle-aged men and women we have often laughed over the way in which we have still accepted " mama said " so-and-so as a final verdict. As children our faith not only in her wisdom but in her ability was unlimited. I remember being regarded as almost a heretic by the younger ones because I ven- tured to doubt whether she could make a watch. Vainly did I hedge by asserting that I was certain that if she "MRS. GAILEY" 9 had learnt she could make the most beautiful watch in the world — I had infringed the" first article of family faith by thinking that there was anything which she could not do by the uninstructed light of nature. She was a good musician, and a really excellent amateur artist — her water-colour drawings charming. Her know- ledge of history made it delightful to read aloud to her, as she seemed as if the heroes and heroines of bygone times had been her personal acquaintance. Needless to say her personal care for everyone on my father's pro- perty was untiring, and the standard of the schools in the various villages was maintained at a height un- common in days when Education Acts were not so frequent and exacting as in later years. Another great character in our home was our old nurse. For some reason she was never called Nanna, but always " Mrs. Gailey." The daughter of a small tradesman, she was a woman of some education — she had even learnt a little French and had been a con- siderable reader. Though a disciple of Spurgeon, she had lived as nurse with my mother's cousin the Duke of Norfolk in the days when the girls of the family w^ere Protestants though the boys were Roman Catholics. When the Duchess (daughter of Lord Lyons) went over to the Roman Church the Protestant nurse's position became untenable, as the daughters had to follow their mother. She told us that this was a great distress at first to the eldest girl Victoria (afterwards Hope-Scott), for at twelve years old she was able to feel the uprooting of her previous faith. The other sisters were too young to mind, (luih.'y's idol, however, was Lord Maltravers (the late Duke), who nmst have been as attractive a boy as he became deliglitful a man. Gailey came to us when I was about four, my first 10 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i nurse, who had been my wet-nurse, having married the coachman. Our first encounter took place when I was already in my cot, and I announced to her that if she stayed a hundred years I should not love her as I had done " Brownie." " And if I stay a hundred years,'* was the repartee, " I shall not love you as I did the little boy I have just left " — so we started fair. Never- theless she was an excellent nurse and a fascinating companion. She could tell stories by the hour and knew all sorts of old-fashioned games which we played in the nursery on holiday afternoons. The great joy of the schoolroom children was to join the little ones after tea and to sit in a circle while she told us either old fairy tales, or more frequently her own versions of novels which she had read and of which she changed the names and condensed the incidents in a most ingenious manner. On Sunday evenings Pil- grim's Progress in her own words was substituted for the novels. Miss Custarde could inflict no greater punishment for failure in our " saying lessons " than to keep us out of the nursery. Gailey stayed with us till some time after my marriage and then retired on a pension. The Scottish housekeeper, Mrs. Wallace, was also a devoted friend and a great dispenser of cakes, ices, and home-made cowslip and ginger wine. Rose-water, elder-flower water, and all stillroom mysteries found an expert in her, and she even concocted mead from an old recipe. Few people can have made mead in this generation — it was like very strong rather sweet beer. We all loved " Walley " — but she failed us on one occasion. Someone said that she had had an uncle who had fought at Waterloo, so we rushed to her room to question her on this hero's prowess. " What did QUEEN VICTORIA AT STONELEIGH 11 your uncle do at Waterloo ? " The reply was cautious and rather chilling : " I believe he hid behind his horse." She looked after all our dogs and was supposed to sleep with eight animals and birds in her room. In the summer of 1858 a great event occurred in the annals of Stoneleigh. Queen Victoria stayed at my father's for two nights in order to open Aston Hall and Park, an old Manor House and property, which had belonged to the Bracebridge family and had been secured for the recreation of the people of Birmingham. Naturally there was great excitement at the prospect. For months beforehand workmen were employed in the renovation and redecoration of the Abbey and its precincts. Many years afterwards an ex-coachpainter met one of my sons and recalled to him the glorious days of preparation for Her Majesty's visit. " Even the pigsties were painted, sir," said he. Stoneleigh is a large mass of buildings — parts of the basement remain from the original Abbey of the Cis- tercian monks. On these was built a picturesque house about the beginning of the seventeenth century, early in the eighteenth century a large mansion was added in the classical Italian style, and about a hundred years later a new wing was erected to unite the two portions. The old Abbey Church stood in what is now a lawn between the house and the ancient Gateway, which bears the arms of Henry II. To put everything in order was no light task. The rooms for the Queen and Prince Consort were enclosed on one side of the corridor leading to them by a temporary wall, and curtained off where the corridor led to the main staircase. In additi(jn to every other preparation, the outline of tlie guUiway, the main front of the house, and some of the ornamental flower-beds were traced out with little 12 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i lamps — I think there were 22,000 — which were lighted at night with truly fairy-like effect. By that time we were five children — the house was crowded in every nook and corner with guests, servants, and attendants of all kinds. Somehow my brother Gilbert and I were stowed away in a room with two or three maids, but the " little ones," Agnes and two small brothers Dudley and Rupert, were sent to the keeper's house in the Deer- park. That house was a delightful old-world building standing on a hill with a lovely view, and we were occasionally sent there for a day or two's change of air, to our great joy. On the occasion of the Royal Visit, however, Gilbert and I quite realised our privilege in being kept in the Abbey and allowed to stand with our mother and other members of the family to welcome the Queen as the carriage clattered up with its escort of Yeomanry. My father had, of course, met Her Majesty at the station. The Queen was more than gracious and at once won the hearts of the children — but we did not equally appre- ciate the Prince Consort. Assuredly he was excellent, but he was very stiff and reserved, and I suppose that we were accustomed to attentions from our father's guests which he did not think fit to bestow upon us, though the Queen gave them in ample measure. We were allowed to join the large party of guests after dinner, and either the first or the second evening witnessed with interest and amusement the presenta- tion of the country neighbours to the Queen. Having been carefully instructed as to our own bows and curtsies, we naturally became very critical of the " grown-up " salutations, particularly when one nervous lady on passing the royal presence tossed her head back into the air by way of reverence. I think the THE PRINCE CONSORT 13 same night my father escorted the Queen into the garden in front of the house, which was separated from part of the Park by a stone balustrade. In this park-ground several thousand people had assembled who spontaneously broke into " God save the Queen " when she appeared. Fortunately the glorious hot summer night (July) was ideal for the greeting. One morning our small sister and brothers were brought to the Abbey " to be presented.'' Agnes made a neat little curtsv, though we unkindlv asserted that it was behind the Queen's back, but the baby boys were overcome by shyness and turned away from the Queen's kisses. Unfortunate children ! they were never allowed to forget this ! Poor Prince Consort lost his last chance of good feeling from Gilbert and myself when he and the Queen went to plant memorial trees. We rushed forward to be in time to see the performance, but he sternly swept us from the royal path. No doubt he was justified in bidding us " stand back," but he might have remem- bered that we were children, and his host's children, and done it more gently. I shall refer to our dear Queen later on, but may here insert a little incident of her childhood which came to my knowledge accidentally. In the village belonging to my married home, Middleton Stoney, there was a middle-aged policeman's wife who culti- vated long ringlets on either side of her face. She once confided to me that as a child she had had beau- tiful curls, and that, living near Kensington Palace, they had on one occasion been cut off to make " riding curls " for Princess (afterwards Queen) Victoria, who had lost her own hair — temporarily — from an illness. The child had not liked this at all, though she had been 14 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i given some of the Princess's hair as an equivalent. I imagine that her parents received more substantial payment. Our childhood was varied by a good deal of migra- tion. We were regularly taken each year about May to our father's London house, 37 Portman Square, where we entertained our various cousins at tea-parties and visited them in return. We were generally taken in the autumn to some seaside place such as Brighton, Hastings, Rhyl, or the Isle of Wight. We estimated the merits of each resort largely according to the amount of sand which it afforded us to dig in, and I think Shanklin in the Isle of Wight took the foremost place in our afiections. Two years, however, had specially delightful autumns, for in each of these our father took a moor in Scotland — once Kingairloch and the second time Strontian. On each occasion I accompanied my parents ; to Kingairloch, Gilbert (Gilly he was always called) came also — the second year he spent half the time with us and then returned to his tutor and Agnes, and Dudley took his place for the remainder of our stay. How we enjoyed the fishing, bathing in the loch, and paddling in the burns ! Everyone who has spent the shooting season in Scotland knows all about it, and our experi- ences, though absolutely delightful, did not differ much from other people's. These visits were about 1860 and 1861. The railroad did not extend nearly so far as at present and the big travelling- carriage again came into play. One day it had with considerable risk to be conveyed over four ferries and ultimately to be driven along a mountainous road after dark. As far as I remember we had postilions — certainly the charioteer or charioteers had had as much whisky as was good A NARROW ESCAPE 15 for them, with the result that the back wheels of the heavy carriage went right over the edge of a precipice. The servants seated behind the carriage gave themselves over for lost- — we children were half- asleep inside and unconscious of our peril, when the horses made a desperate bound forward and dragged the carriage back on to the road. We were taken later to see the place with the marks of the wheels still plain on the rocky edge — and young as we were could quite realise what we had escaped. Both shooting lodges were situated in the midst of the lovely mountain scenery of North Argyllshire, possibly Kingairloch was the more beau- tiful of the two. One day from dawn to eve the moun- tains echoed and re-echoed with the plaintive bleating of flocks, and we were told that it was because the lambs were taken from their mothers. I still possess some verses which my mother wrote on that occasion, and transcribe them to show that she had a strong poetic as well as artistic vein : " Far over the mountains and over the corries Echoed loud wailings and bleat ings the day \\ lien from the side of the mothers that loved them The lambs at Kingairloch were taken away. " Vainly, poor mothers, ye watch in the valley The nook where your little ones gambolled before, Vainly ye climb to the heights of the mountains — They answer you not, and shall answer no more ! " Never again from that stream-silvered hill-side, Seeking fresh gra&s betwixt harebell and heather. Shall you and your lambkins look back on Loch Corry, Watching the flight of the Hca-biid together. *' No more, when the storm, striking chords on the mountains, Drives down the thick mists their tall Hunimits to hide, Shall you give the swetit gift of a mother's jjrotection To the Huft little creatures crouched down by your Hide. 16 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i " Past the sweet peril ! and gone the sweet pleasure ! — Well might the echoes tell sadly that day The plaint of the mothers that cried at Kingairloch The day that the lambs were taken away." Visits to Scotland included sojourns at Ardgowan, the home of our uncle and aunt Sir Michael and Lady Octavia Shaw-Stewart on the Clyde, Aunt Occy, as we called her, was probably my mother's favourite sister — in any case her children were our favourite cousins on the Grosvenor side, and we loved our many visits to Ardgowan both when we went to the moors and in after years. There were excursions on the hills and bathing in the salt-water of the Clyde, fishing from boats, and shells to be collected on the beach. Also my uncle had a beautiful yacht in which he took us expeditions towards Arran and to Loch Long from which we were able to go across the mountain pass to Loch Lomond. My grandmother Lady Leigh died in 1860, before which time she used to pay lengthened visits to Stone- leigh accompanied by three or four unmarried daughters. She was a fine handsome old lady. Her hair had turned white when she was about thirty-two, but, as old ladies did in those days, she wore a brown front with a black velvet band. She had a masterful temper and held her daughters in considerable awe, but, after the manner of grandparents, was very kind to us. I fancy that so many unmarried sisters-in-law may have been a slight trial to my mother, but we regarded our aunts as addi- tional playfellows bound to provide us with some kind of amusement. The favourite was certainly " Aunt Georgy," the youngest daughter but one. She had an unfailing flow of spirits, could tell stories and join in games, and never objected to our invasion of her room LIFE AT STOXELEIGH 17 at any time. Poor " Aunt Giissie " (Augusta) was less fortunate : she had bad health and would scold us to make us aiTectionate — an unsuccessful method to say the least of it — the natural result was, I fear, that we teased her whenever opportunity offered. Aunt Georgie was very good-looking and I believe much admired. She did not, however, marry till she was about forty. A Colonel Newdigate, whose runaway horse she had stopped when quite a girl, had fallen in love with her and wanted to marry her. She persistently refused and he married someone else. When his wife died, he returned to his first affection and ultimately melted my Aunt's heart. She had no children of her own, but was a good stepmother to his only son — now Sir Frank Newdegate, Governor of West Australia. Stoneleigh offered every possible amusement to chil- dren — long galleries and passages to race up and down, a large hall for battledore and shuttlecock and other games, parks and lawns for ri'ding and cricket, and the River Avon at the bottom of the garden for fishing and boating, not to mention skating in hard winters. People are apt to talk and write as if " Early Victorian " and " Mid- Victorian " children were kept under strict con- trol and made to treat their elders with respectful awe. I cannot recall any undue restraint in our case. As I have already said, our mother was an influence which no one would have attempted to resist, but she never interfered with any reasonable happiness or amuse- ment. Our father was the most cheerful of companions, loving to take us about to any kind of sights or enter- tainments which offered, and buying us toys and presents on every possible occasion. Tlie only constraint put upon us, which is not often used with the modern child, concerned religious observance. We had to come in 18 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i to daily Prayers at 10 o'clock even if it interfered with working in our gardens or other out-door amuse- ment — and church twice on Sundays was the invariable rule as soon as we were old enough to walk to the neighbouring villages of Stoneleigh and Ashow, or to attend the ministrations of the chaplain who generally officiated once each Sunday in the chapel in the house. We had to learn some " Scripture lesson " every day and two or three on Sundays, and I being the eldest had not only to repeat these Sunday lessons to my mother, but also to see in a general way that my younger brothers and sisters knew theirs. I was made to learn any number of chapters and hymns, and Scripture catechisms — not to speak of the Thirty-nine Articles ! At last when mother and governess failed to find something more to learn by heart 1 was told to commit portions of Thomas a Kempis to memory. Here, I grieve to confess, I struck — that is to say, I did not venture actually to refuse, but I repeated the good brother's words in such a disagreeable and discontented tone of voice that no one could stand it, and the attempt to improve me in this way was tacitly abandoned. On the whole I feel sure that the advantages of acquiring so many great truths, and generally in beautiful language, far outweighed any passing irri- tation that a young girl may have felt with these " religious obligations." If it is necessary to distinguish between High and Low Church in these matters, I suppose that my parents belonged to the orthodox Evangelical School. I have a vague recollection of one Vicar of Stoneleigh still preaching in the black silk Geneva gown. At Ashow — the other church whose services we attended — the Rector when I was small was an old Charles Twisleton, a cousin of my father's. RECTORS AND VICARS 19 He, however, had discarded the black gown long before my day. My father told me that when the new Oxford School first took to preaching in surplices Mr, Twisle- ton adopted this fashion. Thereupon the astonished family at the Abbey exclaimed, " Oh, Cousin Charles, are you a Puseyite ? " " No, my dears," was the confidential reply, " but black silk gowns are very expensive and mine was worn out." Probably many poor clergymen were glad to avail themselves of this economical form of ritual. I have an idea that Rud- yard Kipling's Norman Baron's advice to his son would have appealed to my parents had it been written in their day : " Be polite but not friendly to Bishops, And good to all poor Parish priests." I feel that they were " friendly to Bishops " when they met, and they were certainly good to all the Rectors and Vicars of the various villages which be- longed to my father or of which the livings were in his gift, but they had no idea of giving their consciences into ecclesiastical keeping. In fact my grandmother Westminster once said to my mother, " My dear, you and I spend much of our lives in rectifying the errors of the clergy " ; those excellent men often failing in business capacity. The church services at both our churches were simple to a degree. At Stoneleigh the organ was in the gallery and the hymns were sung by the schoolchildren there. The pulpit and reading-desk were part of what used to be called a " three-decker " with a second reading- desk for the clerk. This was exactly opposite our large " S(|uire's Pew " across the aisle. There had from time inunemorial been a \'illage Harvest Home 20 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i with secular rejoicings, but at last there came the great innovation of service with special decoration and appropriate Psalms and Lessons in church. I do not know the exact year, but think that it must have been somewhere in the sixties, after my Uncle James — my father's youngest brother — became Vicar of Stoneleigh, as it must have been his influence which induced my father to consent to what he considered slightly ritua- listic. However, all went well till it came to the Special Psalms. The choir had nothing to do with leading responses — these pertained to the clerk — old Job Jea- cock — and when the first " special '' was given out he utterly failed to find it. The congregation waited while he descended from his desk — walked across the aisle to our pew and handed his Prayerbook to me that I might help him out of his difficulty ! Decorations in the churches at Christmas were fully approved, and of course the house was a bower of holly, ivy and mistletoe — these were ancient customs never omitted in our home. Christmas was a glorious time, extending from the Villagers' Dinner on S. Thomas's Day to the Ball on our father's birthday, January 17th — a liberal allowance. The children dined down on both Christmas Lay and New Year's Day, and there was always a Christmas Tree one evening laden with toys and sweetmeats. Among other Christmas customs there was the bullet-pudding — a little hill of flour with a bullet on the top. Each person in turn cut a slice of the pudding with his knife, and when the bullet ultimately fell into the flour who- ever let it down had to get it out again wdth his mouth. Snap-dragon was also a great institution. The raisins had to be seized from a dish of burning spirits of wine, THEATRICALS 21 presided over by " Uncle Jimmy " (the clergyman) dressed as a ghost in a sheet, who had regularly on this occasion to thrill us with a recitation of " Alonzo the Brave and Fair Imogene " — the faithless lady who was carried ofit from her wedding feast by the ghost of her lover. Of course her fate was inextricably mixed up in our minds with the flame of the snap-dragon. Twelfth Night, with drawing for characters, was duly honoured — nor were private theatricals forgotten. Like all children we loved dressing-up and acting. The first " regular " play with family and household for audience in which we performed was Bluebeard, written in verse by my mother, in which I was Fatima. After that we had many performances — sometimes of plays written by her and sometimes by myself. I do not think that we were budding Irvings or Ellen Terrys, but we enjoyed ourselves immensely and the audiences were tolerant. More elaborate theatricals took place at Hams Hall, the house of Sir Charles Adderley (afterwards Lord Norton), who married my father's eldest sister. They had a large family, of whom five sons and five daughters grew up. These young people were devoted to acting and some of us occasionally went over to assist — at least I recollect performing on one occasion — ajul we often saw these cousuis either at Hams or at Stoneleigh, the houses being at no great distance apart. The youngest son, afterwards well known as Father Adderley, was particularly fond of dressing up — he was a well- known actor — and I am not sure that he did not carry his histrionic tastes into the Church of which he was a greatly esteemed prop. Another numerous family of cousins were the children of my father's fifth sister, married to the itev. Henry Chohuondeley — a sou of 8 22 AN EARLY VICTORIAN CHILD [ch. i Lord Delamere — who held the living of my father's other place — Adlestrop. Uncle Cholmondeley was clever and devoted enough to teach all his five sons himself without sending them to preparatory schools ; and between his teaching and their abilities, most, if not all, of them won scholarships to aid their careers at public schools. With their four sisters they were a noisy but amusing set of companions, and we always enjoyed their visits. My father's yoimgest sister was not old enough for her children to be our actual con- temporaries, but when she did marry — Mr. Granville Leveson-Gower of Titsey — she had twelve sons and three daughters — a good record. My mother's sisters rivalled my father's in adding to the population — one, Lady Macclesfield, having had fifteen children, of whom twelve were alive to attend her funeral when she died at the age of ninety. So I reckoned at one time that I had a hundred first cousins alive, and generally found one in whatever quarter of the globe I chanced to visit. Speaking of theatrical performances, I should speci- ally mention my father's next brother, Chandos Leigh, a well-known character at the Bar, as a Member of the Zingari, and in many other spheres. Whenever oppor- tunity served and enough nephews and nieces were ready to perform he wrote for us what he called " Busi- nesses " — variety entertainments to follow our little plays — in which we appeared in any capacity — clowns, fairies, Shakespeare or Sheridan characters, or any- thing else which occurred to him as suited to our various capacities, and for which he wrote clever and amusing topical rhymes. CHAPTER II A VICTORIAN GIRL The Christmas festivities of 1862 had to be suspended, as my mother's health again obliged my father to take her to the South of France. This time I was their sole companion, the younger children remaining in England. We travelled by easy stages, sleeping at Folkestone, Boulogne, Paris, Dijon, Lyons, Avignon, and Toulon. I kept a careful journal of our travels on this occasion, and note that at Lyons we found one of the chief silk manufactories employed in weaving a dress for Prin- cess Alexandra, then engaged to the Prince of Wales. It had a gold rose, shamrock and thistle combined on a white ground. There also we crossed the Phone and saw in the ho.spital at Ville Neuve, among other curious old paintings, one by King Rene d'Anjou. It represented the Holy Family, and my childish eyes carried away the impression of a lovely infant pattmg a soft woolly lamb. So completely was I fascinated that, being again at Lyons after my marriage, I begged my husband to drive out specially to see the picture of my dream. Alas ! ten years had changed my eyesight, and instead of the ideal figures, I saw a hard stiff Madoima and Child, with a perfectly wooden lamb. I mention this because I have often thought that the populace who were so enraptured with a Madonna like Cimabue's in 8. Maria Novella at Florence saw as i did Bometliing beyond what was actually there. Grand and 23 24 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii stately it is, but I think that unsophisticated eyes must have endowed it with motherly grace and beauty, as I gave life and softness to the baby and the lamb. We went on by train from Toulon as far as Les Arcs and then drove to Frejus, and next day to Cannes. Whether the train then only went as far as Les Arcs or whether my parents preferred the drive through the beautiful scenery I do not know — anyhow we seem to have thoroughly enjoyed the drive. I note that in April we returned from Cannes to Toulon by a new railroad. Cannes was a little seaside country town in those days, with few hotels and villas such as have sprung up in the last half- century ; but even then it attracted sufficient visitors to render hotel accommo- dation a difficulty, and we had to shorten our intended stay. We went to pay our respects to the ex-Lord Chancellor Brougham, already King of Cannes. He was then eighty-five, and I have a vague recollection of his being very voluble ; but I was most occupied with his great-nephew, a brother of the present Lord Brougham, who had a little house of his own in the garden which was enough to fascinate any child. From Cannes we drove to Nice, about which I record that " the only thing in Nice is the sea." We had consider- able difficulty in our next stage from Nice to Mentone, as a rock had in one place fallen from the top of a mountain to the valley below and filled up part of the road with the debris of its fall. At Mentone we spent over three weeks, occupied in walks with my father and drives with him and my mother, or sometimes he walked while I rode a donkey up the mountains. There was considerable political excitement at that time, Mentone having only been ceded by Italy to France in 1861 and the natives being by no means reconciled to MENTONE 25 French rule. There was a great local feeling for Gari- baldi, and though the " Iniio Garibaldi " was forbidden I fear that my mother occasionally played it in the hotel, and any listener (such as the waiter) who over- heard it beamed accordingly. I happened to have a scarlet flannel jacket for outdoor wear, and remember women in the fields shouting out to me " Petite Gari- baldi." My mother often sat on the beach or among olive trees to draw while I read, or looked at the sea, or made up stories or poems, or invented imaginary kingdoms to be shared with my sister and brothers on my return — I fear always reserving supreme dominion for my own share. When we left England the idea had been to continue our travels as far as Rome, but my mother's health forbade, as the doctor said that the cold — particularly of the Galleries — would be too much for her. It was a great disappointment, above all to her, but she was very good in submitting. As so long a tranquil sojourn anywhere had not been contemplated, our library was rather restricted, but two little volumes which she had brought, one of Dryden, and Milton's "Paradise Regained," afforded me happy hours. Also I perpe- trated an Epic in six Cantos on the subject of Rienzi ! From Mentone we went to San Remo for a week, returning to Mentone February 17th, when prepara- tions began for a Fet« to be given by the English and Danish to the inhabitants of the town on the occasion of the Prince of Wales's marriage. Old Lord Glenelg was, T bf'lieve, nominal President, but my father was the moving spirit — entertaining the populace being for him a thoroughly congenial task. Many years afterwards in Samoa Robert Louis 26 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii Stevenson told me that he was at Mentone with his father at the time of the festivities, but he was a yomig boy, and neither he nor I knew under what circum- stances we were ultimately to make acquaintance. There were all sorts of complications to be overcome — for one thing it was Lent and my father had to obtain a dispensation from M. le Cure for his flock to eat meat at the festal dinner. This was accorded on condition that fish was not also consumed. Then there appeared great questions as to who would consent to sit down with whom. We were told that orange-pickers would not sit down with orange- carriers. As a matter of fact I believe that it was against etiquette for women to sit down with the men, and that in the end 300 work- men sat down in the garden of the Hotel Victoria (where we were staying) and I can still recollect seeing the women standing laughing behind them while the men handed them portions of food. Posts were gar- landed with heath and scarlet geraniums, and decorated with English, French, and Danish flags and portraits of Queen Victoria and the Prince and Princess of Wales. The festivities included a boat-race and other races, and ended with illuminations and fireworks at night. All went off splendidly, though the wind rather interfered with lighting the little lamps which decorated some of the buildings. In connection with the Prince's wedding I heard one story which I believe was told by my aunt Macclesfield — (appointed Lady-in- Waiting to the Princess) to my mother, which as far as I know has never appeared in print. The present ex- Kaiser, then little Prince William aged four, came over with his parents for the wedding. He appeared at the ceremony in a Scottish suit, where- GENOA 27 upon the German ladies remonstrated with his mother, 8a}4ng that they miderstood that he was to have worn the uniform of a Prussian officer. " I am very sorry," said his mother ; "he had it on, but Beatrice and Leopold " (the Duke of Albany) " thought that he looked so ridiculous with tails that they cut them off, and we had to find an old Scottish suit of his uncle's for him to wear ! " An early English protest against militarism ! Two days after the excitement of these royal fes- tivities we again left Mentone by road for Genoa, which we reached March 16th, having stopped on the way at San Remo, Alassio, and Savona. At Genoa we joined my mother's sister Agnes and her husband, Sir Archibald Campbell (of Garscube), and saw various sights in their company. I knew very little of my Uncle Archibald, as he died comparatively young. At Genoa he was certainly very lively, and I fear that I contrived unintentionally but naturally to annoy him — it only shows how Italian politics excited everyone, even a child. He had seen some map in which the Italians had marked as their own territory, not only what they had lately acquired, but all to which they then aspired ; I hardly imagine the Trentino, but certainly Venice. Uncle Archy scoffed at their folly — with precocious audacity, and I suppose having heard such Italian views at Mentone, I asserted that they would ere long have both Venice and Home ! He was quite indignant. It was imperti- nent of me, as I knew nothing of their power or other- wise, but it was a good shot ! 1 have heard that Sir Arcliihald's mothiT was a stately old Scottish lady who thought a great deal of family, and precedence, and that one day he scandalised 28 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii her by asking, " Well, mother, what would be the precedence of an Archangel's eldest son ? '' Aunt Aggy was broken-hearted when he died, and always delicate, fell into very ill-health. When the Franco- German War broke out she set to work un- dauntedly for the sick and wounded, and positively wanted to go abroad to nurse in some hospital — prob- ably in Germany. A certain very clever Dr. Frank, of German-Jewish descent, was to make arrangements. The whole Grosvenor family and all its married con- nections were up in arms, and my father was dispatched to remonstrate with her. With much annoyance and reluctance she gave in — and soon after married Dr. Frank ! The family were again astounded, but after all when they knew him they realised that he made her happy and took to him quite kindly. My aunt and Dr. Frank lived a great deal at Cannes, where they had a nice villa — Grandbois — and many friends, and he had a tribe of admiring patients. Aunt Aggy was very charming and gentle and lived to a good age. From Genoa we drove in easy stages to Spezia, noting towns and villages on the way. It was a delightful means of travelling, walking up the hills and stopping at little townships for luncheon in primitive inns. Motors have somewhat revived this method of travel, but whirling along at a great pace can never allow you to see and enjoy all the lesser beauties which struck you in the old leisurely days. I have duly noted all sorts of trivial incidents in my journal, but they are much what occur in all such expeditions and I need not dilate on the beauties of mountain, sea, and sky which everyone knows so well. At Spezia we saw the scene of Shelley's shipwreck, and on one coast of the Gulf the prison where Garibaldi had been interned not very TRAFALGAR VETERANS 29 long before. I record that it was a large building, and that his rooms, shown us by a sailor, were " very nice." I trust that he found them so. After returning to our old quarters we left Mentone on April 15th, evidently with great regret and with a parting sigh to the voiturier who had driven us on all our expeditions, including those to Genoa and Spezia — also to my donkey-man and to the chambermaid. Looking back, I feel that these southern weeks were among the happiest of my life, and that something of the sunlight and mountain scenery remained as memories never effaced. We returned to England by much the same route as our outward journey, only the railroad being now open from Cannes to Toulon a night at Frejus was unnecessary. I cannot remember whether it was on our outward or our homeward journey, but on one or the other we met at the Palace of the Popes at Avignon an old custodian who had fought at Trafalgar and been for some years prisoner in England. He showed with some pride an English book, and it amused my mother to recognise a translation from a German work of which she did not hold a high opinion. I do not suppose that the French soldier read enough of it to do him much harm. It is rather curious that my father on two or three occasions took us to see at Greenwich Hospital an old servant of Nelson's wlio was with him at Trafalgar, so I have seen both a Frenchman and an Englishman who took part in that battle. Nelson's servant had a little room hung all round with pictures of tiie hero. My father asked him whether the Admiral said tlie prayer which one print represents him as reciting on his knees before the battle. The man said he did nut know what words he used, but he saw him kneel down to pray. 30 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii On our way to Paris we spent a night at Fontainebleau — and finally reached Stoneleigh on May 1st, 1863. Speaking of my mother's numerous brothers and sisters, I ought not to omit the eldest, Eleanor, Duchess of Northumberland, who was a very great lady, hand- some and dignified till her death at an advanced age. She had no children, but was admired and respected by many nephews and nieces. I believe that her country neighbours regarded her as almost royal, curtsying when she greeted them. I remember her telling me that she could not go and hear some famous preacher in London because she would not have her carriage out on Sunday and had never been in any sort of cab. What would she have thought of the modern fashion of going in omnibuses ? However, a year or two before her death the late Duke of Northumberland (grandson of her husband's cousin and successor) told me with great glee that they had succeeded in getting Duchess Eleanor into a taxi and that she had enjoyed it very much. I cannot think how they managed it. She lived during her widowhood at Stanwick Park, and my youngest sister Cordelia had a rather comical experi- ence when staying with her there on one occasion. My aunt, among other tabooed innovations, altogether objected to motors and would not allow any through her Lodge gates. Previous to her visit to Stanwick, Cordelia had stayed with the Lawsons at Brayton in Cumberland and while there had been stopped by a policeman for riding a tricycle after dark without a light. She left her address with the Lawson family, and while at Stanwick the local policeman appeared, absolutely trembling at having been forced to enter these sacred precincts, to summon her in that she " drove a carriage, to wit a tricycle, between the hours, etc." The LORD ]\mNCASTER AND GREEK BRIGANDS 31 household managed to keep it dark from Aunt Eleanor, and Cordelia sent authority to the Lawson family to settle the case and pay the fine — but what would the aunt have said had she known of her niece's crime and penalty ? Lady I\Licclesfield, the second daughter, I have already mentioned. The surviving sister (one having died young) next above my mother in age was Elizabeth Lady Wen- lock, who was very clever and, among her nine children, had charming daughters to whom I may refer later on. Then after my mother came Octavia and Agnes — and then Jane, married to Lord Muncaster, who died seven years later at Castellamare, leaving her with one little girl of about two years old. Margaret or Mimi, as we called her, was a great interest when the young widowed mother brought her to stay with us, soon after her father's death. She was a dear little girl, and we were told that she was a great heiress, and somehow in the hands of the Lord Chancellor. Her father had died without a will, and all the property, including the beautiful Muncaster Castle in Cumberland, went to the child though her uncle succeeded to the title. How- ever, poor little Mimi died when she was eleven years old, so her uncle succeeded to the property after all. He was the Lord Muncaster who was captured by the brigands near Marathon in 1870 with his wife and her sister. Miss L'Estrange, Mr. Vyner, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, and two other men. Tlie brigands lot the ladies go with- out injur}' — Lady Muncaster had hidden her rings in her mouth to protect them — but they would only let one man go to get ransom for the rest. The men drew lots and it fell to Vyner, l)ut he absolutely refused to take the chance, saying that he was a bachelor and J^ord Muncaster a married man. Instead of ransom the Greek 32 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii Government sent troops. The brigands were annihilated, but they first killed Vyner and his companions. It was said that the Government stood in with the brigands, but I have never quite understood why, if so, the former did not prefer the money to the death of their allies — unless they thought that they would have to produce the ransom. Lord Muncaster always had his head hanging a little to one side, and in my youth I had a floating idea that it was from permanent grief at the tragedy. Meantime my Aunt Jane married a second time, a brother of Lord Crawford's. She was pretty, with green eyes and a nervous manner. She was a beautiful needlewoman and I believe a true musician. One more Grosvenor aunt must be remembered, my mother's youngest sister Theodora. I have heard that my grandmother was greatly distressed at the loss of her fourth daughter, Evelyn, who died as a child, although there were seven surviving sisters, therefore when another girl-baby arrived she called her Theodora • — the gift of God. Certainly she was greatly attached to the child, and I fancy that the little Theodora was given much more spoiling and freedom than her elder sisters. She was very lively and amusing, and being the only daughter left unmarried when my grand- father died — in 1869 — she became her mother's con- stant companion. When she ultimately married a brother of Lord Wimborne's she and Mr. Merthyr Guest continued to live with my grandmother, who endowed them with a large fortune. Mr. Guest died some years ago, but Aunt Theodora still lives — and has one daughter. My grandfather was a quiet old gentleman as far as I recollect him — he is somehow associated in my mind THE GROSVENOR FAMILY 33 with carpet slippers and a diffident manner. He was what they call of a " saving " disposition, but I really believe that he was oppressed with his great wealth, and never sure that he was justified in spending much on himself and his family. When he became a thor- ough invalid before his death he was ordered to take certain pills, and in order to induce him to do so my grandmother would cut them in two and take half herself. After his death his halves were discovered intact done up with red tape ! During his lifetime I stayed with my parents once or twice at the old Eaton Hall, before my uncle (the first Duke) built the present Palace. It was a nice, comfortable house. I have heard, from a neighbour who recollected the incident, that when it was being built the workmen employed would chisel rough repre- sentations of each other's features in the gargoyles which formed part of the decoration. I suppose that was done in ancient times by the men who built the churches and colleges of those days. My grandparents besides these numerous daughters had four sons — two, both named Gilbert, died, one as a baby, the other, a sailor, as a young man. The late Duke was my godfather and always very kind to me, particularly when, after my marriage, I stayed on more than one occasion at the new Eaton. I never knew a man more anxious to do all he could for the people about him, whether in the country or on his London property. He had very much the feeling of a patriarch and loved nothing better than to have about him the generations of his family. It was a complicated family, as he married first his own first cousin, C^onstance Leveson-Gower, and after her death the sister of his son-in-law Lord Chesham, husband of his second 34 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii daughter Beatrice. I cannot quite unravel it, but somehow he was brother-in-law to his own daughter. The youngest son, Richard, a quaint, amusing man, was created Lord Stalbridge. Having said so much of my mother's family, I think I should mention the two sisters of my father whom I have hitherto omitted. One was his second sister, Emma — a typical and excellent maiden aunt. She was principally noted for being my sister Agnes's godmother and feeling it her duty to hear her Catechism — but neither Agnes nor any of us minded ; in fact I remember — I suppose on some wet Sunday — that we all insisted on sharing the Scripture lesson and were given figs in consequence. The third sister was Caroline, twin with Augusta, but very different, for whereas Aunt Gussie was delicate and nervous, not to say irritable. Aunt Car was slow and substantial. She ended with marry- ing when no longer very young an old cousin of my father's, a clergyman. Lord Saye and Sele, who had actually baptized her early in life. She made him an excellent wife ; she had numerous step-children, though none of her own. Looldng back on these Early Vic- torian uncles and aunts with their various wives and husbands, I cannot but claim that they were good English men and women, with a keen sense of duty to their tenants and neighbours rich and poor. Of course they varied immensely in character and had their faults like other people, but I cannot recall one, either man or woman, who did not try to act up to a standard of right, and think I was fortunate to have been brought up among them. In my younger days I had also living several great- uncles and aunts on both sides, but the only one whom I can spare time and space to mention here is my UNCLES AND AUNTS 35 Grandfather Leigh's sister, Caroline Lady East. When she was young Mr. East fell in love with her and she with him, but he was an impecunious youth and my great-grandparents would not permit the marriage. Whereupon he disguised himself as a hay-maker and contrived an interview with his lady-love in which they exchanged vows of fidelity. Then he went to India, where he remained eleven years, and returned to find the lady still faithful, and having accumulated a suffi- cient fortmie married her. They had a nice little country house on the borders of Oxfordshire and Gloucester- shire, and, though they had no children, were one of the happiest old couples I ever knew. My great-aunt died in 1870, but Uncle East lived till over ninety and went out hunting almost to the end — so eleven years of India had not done him much harm. He stayed with us at Middleton after my marriage when old Lord Abingdon was also a guest. Lord Abingdon must have been over seventy at the time, but a good deal younger than Sir James. They had known each other in youth and were quite delighted to meet again, but each confided separately to my husband and myself that he had thought that the other old fellow was dead. However, they made great friends, and in token of reunion Lord Abingdon sent his servant to cut Uncle East's corns ! To return to my recollections of my own girlhood. I think that it must have been in 1864 that I had a bad attack of chicken-pox which temporarily hurt my eyes and left me somewhat weak. Either in that autunm or the following one my parents took me to the Isle of Arran and left me there for a time with a maid — while they accomj)anied my brother Gilbert buck to school. 1 loved the Isle of Arran, and was only dis- 36 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii turbed by the devotion of a child-niece of the land- lady's who would follow me about everywhere. The only way of escape was to go — or attempt to go — into the mountains of which she was afraid, knowing that there were giants there. I must not omit one honour which I enjoyed in 1865. My mother took me to see my Aunt Macclesfield, who was in Waiting at Marlborough House when His present Majesty was born. My aunt welcomed us in the Princess of Wales's pretty sitting-room hung with a kind of brocade with a pattern of roses. The baby was then brought in to be admired, and to my gratification I was allowed to hold the little Prince in my arms. I did not then realise that in after years I could claim to have nursed my King. Shortly afterwards we used to hear a good deal of the American Civil War. We were too young to have much opinion as to the rival causes, but there was a general impression conveyed to our minds that the " Southern- ers were gentlemen." Some time after the war was over, in December 1868, Jefferson Davis, the Southern (Confederate) President, came to stay at Stoneleigh. He was over in Europe on parole. We were told that he had been in prison, and one of my younger brothers was anxious to know whether we " should see the marks of the chains." We had a favourite old housemaid who was preparing his room, and we imparted to her the thrilling information of his former imprisonment. Her only response was " Umph, well, I suppose he won't want these silver candlesticks." A large bedroom was being prepared for him, but she considered that silver candlesticks were only for ladies, and that presidents and prisoners were not entitled to such luxuries. He proved to be a benevolent old gentleman CONFIRIVIATION 37 who impressed my cousins and myself by tlie paternal way in which he addressed any elder girl as " daughter." After this — but I cannot remember the particular years — we went in the autuimi to Land's End, The Lizard, and Tintagel, and also had villas at Torquay and Bournemouth respectively, but our experiences were too ordinary to be worthy of record. I think I was about seventeen when I went with my parents to Vichy, where my father drank the waters — and we went on to some beautiful Auvergne country. This was my last excursion abroad with my parents before 1 married. In 1867 I was confirmed. The church which we attended was in Park Street. It has since been pulled down, but was then regarded as specially the church of the Westminster family. My grandparents sat in a large pew occupying the length of the gallery at the west end of the church. We had a pew in the south gallery with very high sides, and my early recollections are of sitting on a dusty red hassock from which I could see little but the woodwork during a very long sermon. One Sunday when I was approaching years of discretion the clergyman gave out notice of a Coniirmatioii, with the usual intimation that Candidates should give in their names in the Vestry. My mother told me to do this accompanied by my younger brother (Gilbert) as chaperon. The clergyman seemed a good deal surprised, and I rather fancy that I was the only Candidate. He was an old man who had been there for a long time. He said that he wouhl come and see me at my parents' house, and duly arrived at 37 Portman Square. 1 was sent in to my father's sitting- room for the interview, and I believe that he was more embarrassed than I was, for 1 had long been led to regard 4 38 A VICTORIAN C4IRL [ch. ii Confirmation as the proper sequence to learning my Catechism and a fitting step in religious life. The clergyman somewhat uneasily remarked that he had to ascertain that I knew my Catechism, and asked me to say it. This I could have done in my sleep, as it had for years formed part of my Sunday instruction. When I ended he asked after a slight pause whether I knew why the Nicene Creed was so called. This was unex- pected pleasure. I had lately read Milman's Latin Christianity to my mother, and should have enjoyed nothing better than delivering to my pastor a short lecture on the Arian and Athanasian doctrines. When I began it, however, he hastily cut me short, saying that he saw that I knew all about it — how old was 1 % " Seventeen and a half.'' " Quite old enough,'" said he, and told me that he would send me my ticket, and when I went to the church someone would show me where to sit. This ended my preparation as far as he was con- cerned. I believe he intimated to my parents that he would see Miss Leigh again, but in practice he took care to keep clear of the theological enfant terrible. I was duly confirmed on May 31st, by Dr. Jackson, Bishop of London. I feel sure that my mother amply supplied any lacunse left by the poor old clergyman. No doubt in those days Preparation for Confirmation was not regarded as seriously as at present, but I do not think that mine was quite typical, as some of my contemporary cousins underwent a much more serious course of instruction. That autumn I began to " come out " in the country. We went to a perfectly delightful ball at the Shaw- Stewarts' at Ardgowan, where the late Duke of Argyll — then Lord Lome — excited my admiration by the way he danced reels in Highland costume. Thence my "COMING OUT" 39 brother and I went to Hans Hall to tlie coming-of-age of my cousin Charles Adderley, now Lord Norton. The whole country-side swarmed to the festivities, and one party unable to obtain any other conveyance chartered a hearse. Miss Ferrier, in her novel The Inheritance, makes one of her female characters arrive at a country house, where she was determined to be received, in a hearse — but she was even more gruesome than my cousin's guests as she accompanied the corpse ! The following year (1868), May 12th, I was presented — Princess Christian held the Drawing-Room on behalf of the Queen, who still lived in retirement as far as social functions were concerned. She, however, attended this Drawing-Room for about half an hour — receiving the entree. Her devotion to the Prince Consort and to his memory was unparalleled. No doubt the fact that she had practically never had anyone with whom she could associate on equal terms until her marriage had a good deal to do with it. I know of a lady whom she summoned to sit with her when the Prince Consort was being carried to his funeral on the ground that she was a widow and could feel for her, and she said that her shudders when the guns went off were dreadful, and that she seemed unable to realise that here for the first time was something that she could not control. To return to my entry in the world. Naturally I went during 18G8 and the three or four succeeding years to the balls, dinners, and garden parties usual in the course of the season. The " great houses " then existed— they had not been pulled down or turned into public galleries and ollices. Stafford House, Grosvenor House, Northumberland House, and others entertained 111 royal style, and there were Garden Parties at Argyll Lodge and Airlie Lodge on Campden Hill, at Syon, and 40 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii at Chiswick, then in possession of the Duke of Devon- shire. In those days there was still a sort of question as to the propriety of waltzing. Valses and square dances were danced alternately at balls, and a few — but very few — girls were limited to the latter. Chaperones were the almost invariable rule and we went back to them between the dances. " Sitting-out " did not come in till some years later. In the country, however, there was plenty of freedom, and I never remember any restriction on parties of girls and young men walking or rowing together without their elders. By the time I came out my brother Gilbert (Gilly) was at Harrow and Dudley and Rupert at Mr. Lee's Private School at Brighton. My special charge and pet Rowland was still at home, and the youngest of the family Cordelia a baby. Dudley and Rupy were inseparable. Duddy delicate, Rupy sturdy and full of mischief into which he was apt to drag his elder brother. I had to look after them, and see that they accomplished a few lessons in the holidays — — no light task, but I was ready for anything to keep off holiday tutors and, I am afraid, to retain my position as elder sister. Love of being first was doubtless my besetting sin, and my good-natured younger brothers and sisters accepted my rule — probably also because it was easier than that of a real grown-up person. My mother had bad health, and my father took it for granted that it was my business to keep the young ones as far as possible out of mischief. As for my sister Agnes, she was always a saint, and I am afraid that I was a tyrant as far as she was concerned. Cordelia was born when I was over sixteen and was always rather like my child. Rowland was just seven when IRELAND 41 her arrival delighted the family, and his first remark when he heard that he had a little sister was " I wonder what she will think of ray knickerbockers " — to which he had lately been promoted. Boys wore little tunics with belts when they first left off baby frocks, and sailor suits were not introduced when my brothers were children. My next special recollection is of a visit to Ireland which I paid in company with my parents, Gilbert, and Agnes in August 1869. We crossed in the Leinster and duly lionised Dublin. I kept a journal during this tour in which the sights of the city are duly noted with the remark, after seeing the post office, that we " made the various observations proper to intelligent but tired travellers." The country — Bray, Glendalough, and the Seven Churches seem to have pleased us much better. I do not know whether the guides and country people generally are as free with their legends now as they were fifty years ago, but they told us any amount of stories to our great satisfaction. Brough, the guide at the Seven Churches, was particularly voluble and added considerably to the tales of St. Kevin given in the guide-book. St. Kevin, as recounted by Moore in his ballad, pushed Kathleen into the Lake when she would follow him. I remember that Brough was much embarrassed when I innocently asked why he did this. However, he discreetly replied : " If your honourable father and your honourable mother want you to marry a gentleman and you don't like him, don't push him into the water ! " Excellent advice and not diflicult to follow in a general way. When St. Kevin was alive the skylark used to sing early in the morning and waken the people who had been up late the night before at a 42 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii wedding or merrymaking. Wlien the Saint saw them looking so bad he asked, " What's the matter ? " On hearing that the lark would not let them get any sleep, he laid a spell that never more should lark sing above that lake. This encouragement of late hours seems rather inconsistent with his general asceticism. St. Kevin was more considerate to a blackbird than to the laverock. The former once laid her eggs on his extended hand, and he kept it held out until she had had time to build her nest in it and hatch her young. Brough was even better acquainted with fairies than with saints. He knew a man at Cork named Jack M'Ginn, a wool-comber, who was carried away by the fairies for seven years. At the end of that time he accompanied them to a wedding (fairies like weddings). There was present a young lady whom the fairies wanted to make sneeze three times, as if they could do so and no one said " God bless her " they could take her away. So they tickled her nose three times with horse-hair, but as they were withdrawing it the third time Jack cried out in Irish " God bless her.'' This broke the spell, and Jack fell crashing down amongst the crockery, everyone ran away, and he arose retransformed to his natural shape. Another acquaintance of Brough's — a stout farmer — met one evening three fairies carrying a coffin. Said one, " What shall we do for a fourth man ? " " Switch the first man who passes," replied the second. So they caught the farmer and made him carry it all night, till he found himself in the morning nearly dead not far from his own door. Our guide enjoined us to be sure, if fairies passed us in the air, to pick some blades of grass and throw them after them, saying " Good luck KILLARNEY 43 to you good folk " : as lie sagely remarked, a civil word never does harm. As more prosaic recollections, Brough told us of the grand fights at Glendalough, when the young men were backed up by their sisters and sweethearts. The etiquette was for a young woman to take off her right stocking, put a stone in it and use it as a weapon, " and any woman who fought well would have twenty young farmers wanting to marry her." We stopped at Cork, whence we drove to see Blarney Castle and its stones. In those days, and probably still, there were two, one called the Ladies' Stone, which we three children all kissed, and another suspended by iron clamps from the top of the Castle, so that one had to lie dowTi and hold on to the irons with one's body partly over an open space — rather a break-neck pro- ceeding, particularly in rising again. Only Gilly accom- plished this. The railway to Glengariff then went as far as Dunmanway, whence it was necessary to drive. We slept at the Royal Hotel where we arrived in the evening, and to the end of my life I never shall forget the beauty of Bantry Bay as we saw it on waking next morning with all its islands mirrored in purple shadows. But the whole drive to Killarney, and above all the Lakes as they break upon your sight, are beyond description. We saw it all in absolutely glorious weather — possibly rare in those regions, but certainly the Lakes of Killarney impressed me then as more beautiful than either the Scottish or the English Lakes because of their marvellous richness of colour. After fifty years, and travels in many lands, 1 still imagine that they arc only excelled in colour by the coral islands of the Pacific ; but of course the Irish Lakes may dwell in my memory as more beautiful than they really 44 A VICTORIAN GIRL [oh. ii are, as I saw them first when I had far fewer standards of comparison. Anyhow, they were like a glorious dream. We spent some enchanting days at Killarney and saw all the surrounding beauties — the Gap of Dunloe with the Serpent Lake in which St. Patrick drowned the last snake in Ireland (in a chest into which he enticed the foolish creature by promising to let it out again), Mangerton, the highest mountain in Ireland but one, and Carrantuohill, the highest of all, which my brother and sister and I were allowed to ascend on condition that the guide would take good care of us. However, when out of our parents' sight he found that he was troubled with a corn, and lay down to rest, confiding us to a ponyman who very nearly lost us in a fog. The ponies could only approach the base, the rest was pretty stiff climbing. The Upper, the Middle, and the Lower Lake are all lovely, but the last was particularly attractive from its connection with the local hero — the Great O'Donoghue, whose story we gleaned from our guides and particu- larly a boy who carried our luncheon basket up Mangerton. He was a magician and had the power of taking any shape he pleased, but he ended by a tremendous leap into the Lake, after which he never returned to his home. Once every seven years, however, between six and seven on May Day morning, he rides from one of the islands in the Lower Lake to the opposite shore, with fairies strewing flowers before him, and for the time his Castle also reappears. Any unmarried man who sees him will marry a rich wife, and any unmarried woman a rich husband. Our boatman pointed out an island where girls used to stand to see him pass, but no one ever saw him except an old boat- man, and he had been married a long time, so the THE O'DONOGHUES 45 apparition did not help him. No O'Douoghue has ever been drowned since the hero's disappearance. We heard two different versions of the cause of the tragedy. Both attributed it to his wife's want of self- control. One related that the husband was in the habit of nmning about as a hare or a rabbit, and as long as she did not laugh all went well, but when he took this flying leap into the water she burst into a fit of laughter and thereby lost him permanently. Our boy guide's story was more circumstantial and more dramatic. According to him, the O'Donoghue once turned himself into an eel, and knotted himself three times round Ross Castle, where he lived (a super-eel or diminutive castle!). This frightened the lady dreadfully, and he told her that if she " fritted " three times on seeing any of his wonders she would see him no more. Some time after he turned himself into a goose and swam on the lake, and she shrieked aloud, thinking to lose him. Finally he brought out his white horse and told her that this was her last chance of restraining her fears. She promised courage and kept quiet while he rode straight up the Castle wall, but when he turned to come down she fainted, where- upon, horse and all, he leapt into the water. The boy also declared that in the previous year he was seen by two boatmen, a lady and a gentleman, another man, and some " company," whereupon the lady fainted — recalling the lady of O'Donoghue, it was the least she could do. In the lower Lake may still be seen rocks representijig the chieftain's pigeons, his spy-glass, his books con- taining the " Ould Irish," and his mice (only to be seen on Sundays after prayers). Jn the Bitter Lake, which was pointed out to us from a distance, is the fairy-island where he dances with the fairies. 46 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii The O'Donoghue in his lifetime had his frivolous moments. He once changed a number of fern fronds into little pigs, which he took to the fair at Killarney and sold to the jobbers. They looked just like other pigs until the purchasers reached some running water. As we all know, running water dissolves any spell, and the pigs all turned back into little blades of fern. As testimony to the authenticity of this tale the water was duly shown to us. The O'Donoghue, however, knew that the jobbers would not remain placid under the trick, so he went home and told his maid to say, if anyone asked for him, that he had gone to bed and to sleep and could only be wakened by pulling his legs. The jobbers arrived, received the message, went in and pulled his legs, which immediately came off! Off they ran in alarm, thinking that they had killed the man, but the good O'Donoghue was only having his fun with them, so called them back and returned their money. We picked up a good deal of fairy-lore during our sojourn in the south of Ireland, and I record it as it may have passed away during the past half-century. The driver who took us to the Gap of Dunloe told me that in his mother's time a woman working in the fields put down her baby. While she was out of the way the steward saw the fairies change it for a fairy- baby who would have been a plague to her all her life. So as the child was crying and shrieking he stood over it and declared that he would shoot the mother or any- one else who should come near it, and as no one came to comfort it the fairies could not leave their baby to cry like that, so they brought back the stolen child and took away their own. That steward was such a man of resource that one cannot help wishing that he were alive to deal with the Sinn Feiners of the present MYTHS AND LEGENDS 47 day. Another piece of good advice which we received was, if we saw a fairy (known by his red jacket) in a field to keep an eye fixed on him till we came up with him — then to take away his purse, and each time we opened it we should find a shilling. I regret to say that I never had the opportunity, but the guide, remark- ing my father's tendency to give whenever asked, observed that he thought his lordship had found a fairy purse. It is a commonplace to notice the similarity of folk-lore in many lands pointing to a common origin, but it is rather curious to compare the tale of the O'Donoghue with that of the Physicians of Myddfai in South Wales. Only in that the husband, not the wife, caused the final tragedy. The fairy-wife, rising from the Lake, warns her mortal husband that she will disappear for ever if he strikes her three times. Long years they live in happmess, but thrice does he give her a slight blow to arouse her from unconventional behaviour at a christening, a wedding, and a funeral respectively. Thereupon she wends her way to the Lake and like a white cloud sinks into its waters. She leaves her sons a legacy of wisdom and healing skill, and from time to time a shadowy form and clear voice come to teach them still deeper knowledge. From the south of Ireland we went to the north, but I regret to say were not nearly so fascinated by the loyal Ulsterman as by the forthcoming sons of the south. Nevertheless we enjoyed the wild scenery of Lough Swilly and the legends connected with Dunluce Castle and the Giant's Causeway. Among the tales of Dun- luce was that of a banshee whose duty it is (or was) ^ to keep clean one of the rooms in tlie ruin. Tlio old man who showed us over declared that slic did not always properly fulfil her task. She is supposed to be the spirit 48 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii of a cook who fell over the rocks into the water and reappears as a tall woman with red hair. The place of cook must have been a rather trying one in ancient days, for the kitchen pointed out to us was on the edge of a precipice and we were told that once when a good dinner was prepared the attendants let it all fall into the sea ! It was not, however, explained whether this was the occasion on which the like fate befell the cook. Possibly she died in a frantic effort to rescue it. The Giant's Causeway was very interesting. We first entered Portcorn Cave, which has fine colours and a great deal of froth said to have been caused by the giant's washerwoman washing a few collars there. The giant in question was called Fin MacCoul, and at the same time there lived another Giant in Scotland called Benadadda. Wishing to pass backwards and forwards, the two agreed that Fin should pave a way of columns and Benadadda should work it. Hence Fingal's Cave — gal or gael meaning " the stranger '' — presumably the name was given in compliment to the future guest. But the two champions found the work harder than they had expected, and Benadadda sent to tell Fin that if he did not make haste he must come over and give him a beating. Fin returned that he was not to put himself out, but to come if he pleased. Soon after Fin rushed in crying out to his wife, " Goodness gracious ! he's coming. I can't face that fellow ! " And he tumbled into bed. Soon Benadadda walked in. " Good day, ma'am. Ye're Mrs. McCoul ? " " Yes, sir ; I percave you are Benadadda ? " *' I am ma'am. Is Fin at home ? " " He's just gone into the garden for a few vegetables, but he'll be back directly. Won't ye take a cheer ? " THE GIANT BENADADDA 49 " Thank you kindly " — and lie sat down. She continued : " Fve got a little boy iii that cradle and we think he's taything, fer he won't give the fayther nor me any raste. Just put your finger along his gums." Benadadda, unable to refuse a lady, put his fingers into Fin's mouth, who promptly bit them off, and then jumping up called on Benadadda to come on. The Scottish giant, unable to fight with his wounded hand, told them, " I wish I'd never come among you craters," and walked off. Mrs. MacCoul ran after him with an oatcake, but having tasted it he said, " Very good outside, but give the rest to your goodman " ; for she had baked the tin girdle inside the cake. This is how I recorded the tale, which I suppose I picked up locally, but I have somewhere heard or read another account in which, without waiting for his fingers to be bitten off, Benadadda exclaimed, " Begorra, is that the baby ? then I'll be but a mouthful to the fellow himself," and made off. I am unable to say which version is authentic, but neither seems to attribute undaunted valour to either champion, and both agree that Irish wit got the better of superior Scottish strength. I record these tales rather than attempt description of the Caves and other beauties of the coast, as the physical features remain and the legends may be forgotten. The great rocks shaped like columns are called the Giant's Organs, and are (or were) supposed to play every Christmas morning. The tune they play is " St. Patrick's day in the morning," upon hearing which the whole Causeway dances round three times. We left Ireland at the end of August, having thoroughly enjoyed our travels there. It was then a peaceful 50 A VICTORIAN GIRL [ch. ii country. The Queen had given her name to Queens- town Harbour in 1849, and I suppose had visited Killar- ney on the same occasion. Anyhow, memories of her stay still lingered there. I recollect even now the enthusiasm with which a boatman who had been one of those who had taken her on the Lake said, *' I passed a long day looking at her." It was a thousand pities that she did not often revisit Ireland. CHAPTER III MARRIAGE Next year — 1870 — all thoughts were to a large extent taken up with the Franco-German War. It does not seem to me that we took violent sides in the struggle. Naturally we were quite ignorant of the depths of cruelty latent in the German nature, or of the ma- noeuvres on the part of Bismarck which had led to the declaration of war. We were fond of our sister's French governess Mdlle. Verdure, and sorry for the terrible collapse of her country, but I think on the whole that the strongest feding in our family was amazement at the revelation of inefficiency ]on the part of the French, mingled with some admiration for the completeness of German organisation. Anyhow, everyone was set to work to provide comforts for the sick and wounded on both sides — medical stores which I fancy would have been to a large extent condenmed wholesale if submitted to the medical authorities during the late War, but which I am sure were very useful and acceptable in 70-71. As is well known, tliat winter was an excep- tionally hard one — we had fine times skating, and I remember a very pleasant visit to old Lord Bathurst at Cirencester — ^but it nmst have been terrible in Paris. Our Frcncli man-cook had some refugee sisters quartered in the neigiibourhood who were em- ployed by my mother in dressmaking work for our 51 52 MARRIAGE [ch. iii benefit, but I do not know whether refugees were numerous in England. What did really excite us in common with all England were the excesses of the Commune. Never shall I forget the papers coming out with terrific headlines : " Paris in Flames — Burning of the Tuileries/' and so on. I passed the morning in floods of tears because they were " burning history/' and had to be rebuked by my mother for expressing the wish that the incen- diaries could be soaked in petroleum and themselves set on fire. The year 1871 was rendered interesting to our family by the marriages of our two Leigh uncles — Chandos, com- monly known among us as " Uncle Eddy," married an amiable and good-looking Miss Rigby, who inherited money from a (deceased) Liverpool father. Uncle Eddy was a great character. A fine, athletic man, successful in every walk of life which he entered, a good horseman, cricketer and actor, he did well at the Bar and seemed to know practically everybody and to be friends with them all. He was blessed with supreme self-confidence and appeared innocently convinced that everyone was as much interested in his afiairs as he was himself. This childlike disposition was really attractive, and quite outweighed the boyish conceit which endured to the end of a long and useful life. His love affairs with Miss Rigby were naturally very public property. I heard all about them from the beginning, and have no doubt that anyone of age to listen and capable of sympathising was similarly favoured. He originally proposed to the young lady after a few days' acquaintance, and she turned pale and said " You have no right to speak to me in this way." Ups and downs followed, including a con- FANNY KEMBLE 53 sultatiou with planchette, which quite properly wavered and shook and spoke with an uncertain voice. This was all in 1870. Some time in January we acted a small farce which I had perpetrated called The Detective. When it was over my uncle informed me that failing his marriage he intended to leave me a thousand pounds in recognition of this play. Fortunately I founded no hopes on that thousand pounds, for I think that it was the following morning when Uncle Eddy came shouting along the top corridor where we slept. " Margaret — you've lost your thousand pounds ! " The post had come in and the fair lady had relented. James, my father's youngest brother, called " Uncle Jinmiy," had travelled in the United States and been entertained on her plantation in Georgia by a charming Southern lady — a Miss Butler, daughter of the descen- dant of an old Irish family who had married the well- known actress Fanny Kemble. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce Butler had separated — not from any wrong-doing, but from absolute incompatibility of temper. For one thing the wife took up a Nnolent anti-slavery attitude — a little awkward when (as she must have known when she married) the husband owned a cotton plantation worked by slave labour. However, the two daughters remained on friendly terms with both parents, and Mr. Butler died during — or shortly after — the war. One daughter married a Dr. Wister and became the mother of the well-known author, Owen Wister ; the younger, Frances, married my uncle and was adopted into the family as " Aunt Fanny." Though some ten or eleven years older than myself, she and I became the greatest friends, and 1 umch liked her somewhat erratic, though withal stately, mother, who was called " Mrs. Kemble." Both Uncles were married (on different A 54 MARRIAGE [ch. hi days) in June 1871, my sister Agnes being bridesmaid to Miss Butler and I to Miss Rigby. Both marriages were very happy ones, though my Uncle Chandos ended his life in a dark cloud cast by the late War — in which he lost his only two sons, and his wife was killed in a motor accident not long after his death. Since I wrote above I have found an old journal from May 18th, 1868, to November 3rd, 1869. I do not extract much from it, as it largely consists of records of the various balls and entertainments which we attended — but it is rather amusing to note what circumstances, social and otherwise, struck the fancy of a girl in her first two seasons. Politically the Irish Church Bill seems to have been the burning question. We went to part of the Debate on the Second Reading (June 17th, 1869) in the House, and I not only give a summary of Lord Salisbury's speech, but when the Bill was carried, devote over two pages of my journal to a full description of the details of the measure. The causes celebres of Madame Rachel, the Beauty Doctor, and of the nun, Miss Saurin, against her Mother Superior, Mrs. Starr, appear also to have been topics of conversation. One visit is perhaps worth recording. My father's mother was a Miss Willes of an old family living on the borders of Northamptonshire and Oxfordshire — regular country people. One of her brothers, Charles, was married to a certain Polly — I think she was a Miss Waller, but anyhow they were a plump, old-fashioned pair. She was supposed to keep a book in which were recorded the names of over a hundred nephews and nieces, and to sell a pig to give a present to any one of the number who married. On the last day of 1868 my brother Gilly and I went with our Aunt Georgiana AN OLD-FASHIONED CHRISTMAS 55 to stay with this charming old couple at King-Sutton Manor House near Banbury^. This is how I describe the New Year festivities of fifty years ago : " It is a queer old house like one in a stoiybook, full of corners. My wash-stand was in a recess with a window, separated from the rest of the room by doors so that it looked like a chapel. We had dinner between six and seven, a real Christmas dinner with nearly twenty people — great- uncle Charles, great-amit Martha, great-aunt Sophy, George Willes, Willie Willes, Stany Waller, the clergy- man Mr. Bruce, Aunt Polly herself beaming at the head of the table, turkey and beef stuck with holly, and the plum-pudding brought in, in flaming brandy. . . . Almost ever}'one seemed related to all the rest. A few more people came after dinner while we were in the drawing-room and the dining-room was being cleared for dancing. Two fiddlers and a blowing-man were then perched on a table in a corner and dancing began — quadrilles, lancers, jig, reel, and valse carried on with the utmost energy, by Aunt Polly in particular, till about half-past eleven, when muffled bells began to ring in a church close by and the dancing was stopped that we might all listen. At twelve o'clock the muffles were taken off. Aunt Polly charged with Xmas cards into the midst of her company, punch was brought in in great cups, silver, I believe ; everyone kissed, shook hands, and wished everyone else a Happy New Year, the bells rang a joy-peal, and we had supper, and then began dancing again till between one and two in the morning. After many efforts Gilly succeeded in catch- ing Aunt Polly under the misletoe and kissing her." I do not know what a " blowing-man " may have been, but have a vivid recollection of Aunt Polly trying to dance everyone down in a perpetual jig, and of the 56 MARRIAGE [ch. hi portly figure of Uncle Charles, who had to be accommo- dated with two chairs at dinner. We had other very pleasant visits — and amongst them we stayed with my uncle and aunt Wenlock for my cousin Carry Lawley's wedding to Captain Caryl Molyneux. This marriage was particularly interesting to all the cousinhood, as it was brought about after considerable opposition. Carry was an extraordinarily pretty, lively, and attractive girl rather more than a year older than myself. She had brilliant eyes and auburn hair and was exceedingly clever and amusing. Her family naturally expected her to make a marriage which would give all her qualities a wide sphere. How- ever, at the mature age of eleven she won the affections of Lord Sefton's younger brother and he never fluctuated in his choice. I do not know at what exact moment he disclosed his admiration, but he contrived to make the young lady as much in love with him as he was with her. Vainly did her mother refuse consent. Carry stuck to her guns, and I believe ultimately carried her point by setting up a cough ! Anyhow the parents gave in, and when they did so, accepted the position with a good grace. Somehow what was considered sufficient pro- vision for matrimony was made and Caryl and Carry were married, on a brilliant spring day in April 1870. It was at the Wenlocks' London house, in the follow- ing year, that I made the acquaintance of Lord Jersey. We had unknowingly met as children at an old inn on Edgehill called " The Sunrising " ; at that time his parents, Lord and Lady Villiers, lived not far off at Upton House, which then belonged to Sarah, Lady Jersey. While my brother and I were playing outside, a boy with long fair hair looked out of the inn and smilingly lashed his whip at us, unconscious that it was A PRE-:MATRI]M0NIAL party 57 his first salutatiou to his future wife ! I discovered in after years that George Villiers, as he then was, used to ride over for lessons to a neighbouring clergyman and put up his pony at the inn. At the dinner-party at Berkeley Square Lord Jersey did not take me in, and I had not the slightest idea who he was, but when the ladies left the dining-room I was laughed at for having monopolised his attention when he was intended to talk to his partner. He was reckoned exceedingly shy, and I thought no more of the matter till the following season, to which I shall return in due course. After our return to Stoneleigh, though I do not recollect in which month (I think August), we had a large and gay party including a dance — it was dis- tinctly a pre-matrimonial party, as three of the girls whom it included were either engaged or married before twelve months were over, though none of them to the men present. The three girls were Gwendolen (then called Gwendaline) Howard, who married Lord Bute ; Maria Fox-Strangw^ays, married to Lord Bridport's son Captain Hood ; and myself. Rather oddly, a much older man and a widower, Lord Raglan, who was also of the party, caught the matrimonial microbe and married his second wife in the ensuing autumn. Among others my cousin and great friend Hugh Shaw-Stewart was there and immortalised our doings in verse. At Christmas time I managed to get slight con- gestion of the lungs and soon after went to spend some time with my kind uncle and aunt Sir Michael and Lady Octavia Shaw-Stewart at Fonthill, and Hughie, who had also suflered from chest trou})le, stayed with his parents there while preparijig for Oxford. Fonthill, as is well known, belonged to the eccentric 58 MARRIAGE [ch. iii Beckford and was full of his traditions. After his death, the property was divided and my grandfather Westminster bought the portion which included Beck- ford's old house, of which the big tower had fallen down, and built himself a modern house lower down the hill. Another part was bought — I do not know when — by Mr. Alfred Morrison. When my grandfather West- minster died in the autumn of 1869 he left the reversion of Fonthill Abbey to Uncle Michael. Perhaps he thought that the Shaw- Stewarts should have an English as well as a Scottish home. However that might have been, Fonthill is a delightful place — and I benefited by their residence there at this time. I think that they were only to come into actual possession after my grand- mother's death — but that she lent it to them on this occasion as my aunt was delicate and it was considered that she would be the better for southern air. The modern house was a comfortable one with good rooms, but had a peculiarity that no room opened into another, as my grandfather objected to that arrange- ment — dressing-rooms, for instance, though they might open into the same lobbies, might not have doors into the bedrooms. Part of Beckford 's old house higher up the hill was preserved as a sort of museum. The story was that he insisted on continuous building, Sundays and weekdays alike. The house had a very high tower which could be seen from a hill overlooking Bath, where he ultim- ately went to live. Every day he used to go up the hill to look at his tower, but one morning when he ascended as usual he saw it no longer — it had fallen down. It used to be implied that this was a judgment on the Sunday labour. Also we were told that he made the still- existing avenues and drove about them FONTHILL ABBEY 59 at night, which gave him an uncanny reputation. Probably his authorship of that weird tale Vathek added to the mystery which surrounded him. He had accumulated among many other treasures a number of great oriental jars from the Palace of the King of Portugal, and when these were sold after his death my grandfather, to the best of my recollection, purchased three. Mr. Morrison had secured a good many of the others, which I saw in after years when I stayed at the other Fonthill House which he had built on his part of the property. Many of the other treasures passed, as is well known, into the possession of Beckford's daughter who married the 10th Duke of Hamilton. Alas — most of them must have been dispersed ere now ! Mr. Alfred Morrison, when I was at Fonthill with my uncle and aunt, was a subject of much interest, as it was rumoured that he wanted to emulate Beckford. I do not quite know in what way beyond trying to collect the oriental jars. He was a distinctly literary man, and was reported to have married his wife because he found her reading a Greek grammar in the train. Whether or no that was the original attraction I cannot say, but she proved a delightful and amusing person when I met her in after years. Meantime we used to hear of the beautiful horses which he sent to the meets of the local hounds, though he did not ride, and other proofs of his wealth and supposed eccentricity. My uncle as well as my aunt being far from strong, we led a quiet though pleasant life. Hughie and I shared a taste for drawing and painting of very amateur deficription and Hughie used to help me witli J.iilin verses, in which 1 then liked to dabble. After my return to Stoncleigh 1 had yet another 60 MARRIAGE [ch. hi treat. My Uncle James and his new wife " Aunt Fanny " were kind enough to ask me to share in the spring their first trip abroad after their marriage. We went via Harwich to Rotterdam and thence for a short tour in Holland and Belgium with which I was highly delighted. The quaint canals, the cows with table-cloths on their backs, the queer Jewish quarter in Amsterdam, and still more the cathedrals and picture galleries in Belgium gave me infinite pleasure, but are too well known to describe. Even the copyist in the Antwerp Gallery who, being armless, painted with his toes was an amusement, as much to my uncle, who loved freaks, as to myself. Ghent and Bruges were a revelation ; and I was much entertained by the guide who took us up the Belfry of St. Nicholas (I think it was) at the former city and pointed triumphantly to the scenery as " bien beau, tout plat, pas de monta.gnes." He shared the old Anglo-Saxon conception of Paradise. " Nor hills nor mountains there Stand steep, nor strong cliffs Tower high, as here with us ; nor dells nor dales, Nor mountain-caves, risings, nor hilly chains ; Nor thereon rests aught unsmooth, But the noble field flourishes under the skies With delights blooming." In the Cathedral of St. Nicholas, over the high altar, was an image of the saint with three children in a tub. My uncle asked a priest what he was doing with the children, but all the good man could say was that " St. Nicolas aimait beaucoup les enfants," quite ignorant of the miracle attributed to his own saint, namely, that he revived three martyred boys by putting them into a barrel of salt. Shortly after our return to England we moved to ENGAGEMENT 61 Portman Square for the season. At a diiiner-party — I believe at Lord Caniperdown's — I again met Lord Jersey, but fancied that he would have forgotten me, and subsequently ascertained that he had the same idea of my memory. So we did not speak to each other. Later on, however, my father told my mother that he had met Lord Jersey and would like him asked to diuner. The families had been friends in years gone by, but had drifted apart. My mother agreed, sent the invitation, which was accepted. In arranging how the guests were to sit I innocently remarked to my mother that it was no good counting Lord Jersey as a young man — or words to that effect — as " he would never speak to a girl " — and I was rather surprised when in the drawing-room after he came across to me and made a few remarks before the party broke up. After this events moved rapidly for me. Jersey, unexpectedly to many people, appeared at balls at Montagu House, Northumberland House (then still existing), and Grosvenor House. Also he came to luncheon once or twice in Portman Square. He did not dance at balls, but though " sitting-out " was not then the fashion we somehow found a pretext — such as looking at illuminations — for little walks. Then Lord ToUemache drove my mother and me to a garden-party at Syon, where I well recollect returning from another " little walk " across a lawn where my mother was sitting with what appeared to me to be a gallery of aunts. We went to a last ball at the Howards of Glossop in Rutland Gate, and discovering that we were about to leave London Jersey took his courage in two hands and came to J'ortnian Square, .Fuly IHtli, and all was happily settled. 62 MARRIAGE [ch. hi I went next morning — it may have been the same evening — to tell Aunt Fanny, who was then laid up at a house not far from ours. I had been in the habit of paying her constant visits, so she had an idea of what might happen, and I found her mother, Mrs. Fanny Kemble, with her. One word was enough to enlighten my aunt, who then said, '* May I tell my mother ? '' I assented, and she said, " This child has come to tell me of her engagement." Whereupon Mrs. Kemble demanded, with a tragical air worthy of her aunt Mrs. Siddons, " And are you very happy, young lady V I cheerfully answered, " Oh yes " — and she looked as if she were going to cry. My aunt said afterwards that any marriage reminded her of her own unfortunate venture. Aunt Fanny was much amused when I con- fided to her that finding immediate slumber difficult the first night of my engagement I secured it by at- tempting the longest sum which I could find in Colenso's arithmetic. My brothers and sisters accepted the news with mixed feelings — but poor little Cordelia, who had been left at Stoneleigh, was quite upset. I wrote her a letter in which I said that Lord Jersey should be her brother and she should be bridesmaid. The nurse told me that she burst into tears on receiving it and said that he should not be her brother, and not take away Markie. She quite relented when she saw him, because she said that he had nice smooth light hair like Rowly — and as time went on, she suggested that if Aggy would only " marry or die " she should be " head girl and hear the boys their lessons.'' As the youngest " boy " was seven years older than herself this may be regarded as an exceptional claim for woman's supremacy in her family. My future mother-in-law, Jersey's mother, and his MARRIED TO LORD JERSEY 63 brothers welcomed me most kindly. As for his sisters, Lady Julia Wombwell and Lady Caroline Jenkins, I cannot say enough of their unvar}^ing friendship and affection. I was engaged about the middle of July, and shortly we returned to Stoneleigh. My mother was terribly busy afterwards, as my brother Gilbert came of age on the first of September and the occasion was cele- brated with great festivities, including a Tenants' Ball, when the old gat-eway was illuminated as it had been for the Queen's visit. The ivy, however, had grown 80 rapidly in the intervening years that an iron frame- work had to be made outside it to hold the little lamps. There was a very large family party in the house, and naturally my affairs increased the general excitement and I shared with my brother addresses and presenta- tions. As my mother said — it could never happen to her again to have a son come of age and a daughter married in the same month. She was to have launched the Lady Leigh lifeboat in the middle of September, but my sister was commissioned to do it instead — and we returned to Portman Square for final preparations. Like most girls under similar circumstances I lived in a whirl during those days, and my only clear recollec- tions are signing Settlements (in happy ignorance of their contents) and weeping bitterly the night before the wedding at the idea of parting from my family, being particularly upset by my brother Dudley's floods of fraternal tears. However, we were all fairly com- posed when the day — September 10th, 1872, dawned — and I was safely married by my Uncle Jimmy at St. Thomas's Church, Orchard Street. It was not our parish, but we had a special licence as it was more convenient. My bridesmaids were my two sisters, 64 MARRIAGE [ch. hi Frances Adderley, one of the Cholmondeleys, Minna Finch (daughter of my father's cousin Lady Aylesford), and Julia Wombwell's eldest little girl Julia — after- wards Lady Dartrey. When all was over and farewells and congratulations ended, Jersey and I went down for a short honeymoon at Fonthill, which my grandmother lent us. So ended a happy girlhood — so began a happy married life. I do not say that either was free from shadows, but looking back my prevailing feeling is thankfulness — and what troubles I have had have been mostly of my own making. My father was so good — my mother so wise. One piece of advice she gave me might well be given to most young wives. " Do not think that because you have seen things done in a particular way that is the only right one.'' I cannot resist ending with a few sentences from a charming letter which Aunt Fanny wrote me when I went to Stoneleigh after my engage- ment : " I have thought of you unceasmgly and prayed earnestly for you. I could not love you as I do, did 1 not believe that you were true and good and noble — and on that, more than on anything else, do I rest my faith for your future. Oh, Marky my darling child, cling to the good that is in you. Never be false to yourself. I see your little boat starting out on the sea of life, anxiously and tremblingly — for I know full well however smooth the water may be now there must come rocks in everyone's life large enough to wreck one. Do you call to mind, dear, how you almost wished for such rocks to battle against a little time ago, weary- ing of the tame, even stream down which you were floating ? God be with you when you do meet them." CHAPTER IV EARLY MARRIED LIFE It is more difficult to write at all consecutively of my married life than of my girlhood, as I have less by which I can date its episodes and more years to tra- verse — but I must record what I can in such order as can be contrived. We did not stay long at Fonthill, and after a night or two in London came straight to our Oxfordshire home — Middleton Park. My husband's grandfather and father had both died in the same month (October 1859) when he was a boy of fourteen. He w^as called " Grandison " for the three weeks which intervened between their deaths, having been George Villiers before, so when he returned again to Eton after his father died, the boys said that he came back each time with a fresh name. His grand- mother, however, the well-known Sarah, Lady Jersey, continued to reign at Middleton, for the largest share of the family fortune belonged to her as heiress of her grandfather Mr. Child — and, I suppose, in recognition of all he had enjoyed of hers, her husband left her the use of the Welsh property and she alone had the means to keep up Middleton. She was very fond of my 1ms- band, but when she died, soon after he came of age and inherited the place, he did not care to make many changes, and though his mother paid lengthened visits 66 66 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv slie had never really been mistress of the house. Therefore I seemed to have come straight upon the traces of a bygone generation. Even the china boxes on my dressing-table and the blotters on the writing- tables were much as Lady Jersey had left them — and there were bits of needlework and letters in the drawers which brought her personally vividly before me. The fear and awe of her seemed to overhang the village, and the children were still supposed to go to the Infant School at two years old because she had thought it a suitable age. She had been great at education, had built or arranged schools in the various villages belonging to her, and had endowed a small training school for servants in connection with a Girls' School at Middleton. Naturally the care of that school and other similar matters fell to my province, and I some- times felt, as I am sure other young women must have done under similar circumstances, that a good deal of wisdom was expected from me at an age which I should have considered hardly sufficient for a second housemaid. Some of the schools of that date must have been quaint enough. An old lame woman still had charge of the Infant School at the neighbouring hamlet of Caulcot, whom we soon moved into the Alms- houses. In after years one of her former pupils told me that she was very good at teaching them Scripture and a little reading, but there was no question of writing. If the old lady had occasion to write a letter on her own account she used a knitting-needle as a pen while my informant held the paper steady. If a child was naughty she made him or her stand crouched under the table as a punishment. She never put on a dress unless she knew that Lady Jersey was at the Park, and then, she being crippled with rheumatism, her LORD JERSEY'S MOTHER 67 pupil had to stand ou a chair to fasten it up, lest the great lady should pay a surprise visit. Sarah, Lady Jersey, had a great dislike to any cutting down or even lopping of trees. She had done much towards enlarging and planting the Park, and doubtless trees were to her precious children. Therefore the agent and woodmen, who realised the necessity of a certain amount of judicious thinning, used to wait until she had taken periodical drives of inspection amongst the woods, and then exercised some dis- cretion in their operations, trusting to trees having branched out afresh or to her having forgotten their exact condition before she came again. In one school, Somerton, I was amused to find a printed copy of regulations for the conduct of the children, including injunctions never to forget their benefactress. But she was really exceedingly good to the poor people on the property and thoughtful as to their individual requirements. One old woman near her other place, Upton, told me how she had heard of her death soon after receiving a present from her, and added, " 1 thought she went straight to heaven for Bending me that petticoat ! " Also she built good cottages for the villagers before the practice was as universal as it became later on. The only drawback was that she would at times insist on the building being carried on irrespective of the weather, with the result that they were not always as dry as they should have been. Lady Jersey was well known in the world, admired for her beauty and lively conversation, and no doubt often flattered for her wealth, but she left a good record of charity and duties fulfilled in her own home. As for her beautiful daughter Lady Clementina, she 68 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv was locally regarded as an angel, and I have heard that when she died the villagers resented her having been buried next to her grandmother, Frances Lady Jersey, as they thought her much too good to lie next to the lady who had won the fleeting affections of George IV. I soon found home and occupation at Middleton, but I confess that after being accustomed to a large and cheerful family I found the days and particularly the autumn evenings rather lonely when my husband was out hunting, a sport to which he was much addicted in those days. However, we had several visitors of his family and mine, and went to Stoneleigh for Christmas, which was a great delight to me. Soon after we went abroad, as it was thought desirable after my chest attack of the previous winter that I should not spend all the cold weather in England. We spent some time at Cannes, and I fancy that it really did my husband at least as much good as myself — any- how he found that it suited him so well that we returned on various occasions. Sir Robert Gerard was then a great promoter of parties to the He Ste Marguerite and elsewhere, and the Due de Vallombrosa and the Duchesse de Luynes helped to make things lively. I will not, however, dwell on scenes well known to so many people, and only say that after a short excursion to Genoa and Turin we returned in the early spring, or at the end of winter, to superintend a good deal of work which was then being done to renovate some of the rooms at Middleton. At the beginning of May we moved to 7 Norfolk Crescent — a house which we had taken from Mr. Charles Fane of Child's Bank — and my eldest son was born there on June 2nd, 1873. He had come into the world unduly soon — before he was ex- XllK UliliAKV, MllJDLIvToX I'AUK. J-'ri/m /iholnjruiiht by the prrseiU Voutilrn «/ Jtrtry. MIDKI.KTnV J'AHK. M] IN LONDON 60 pected — and inconveniently selected Whit Monday when the shops were shut and vre were unable to supply certain deficiencies in the preparations. Nevertheless he was extremely welcome, and though very small on his arrival he soon made up for whatever he lacked in size, and, as everyone who knows him will testify, he is certainly of stature sufficient to please the most exacting. My mother-in-law and her second husband, Mr. Brandling, were among our frequent visitors. Mr. Brandling had a long beard and a loud voice, and a way of fiingiiig open the doors into the dining-room when he came in in the morning which was distinctly start- ling. Apart from these peculiarities he did not leave much mark in the world. He was very fond of reading, and I used to suggest to him that he might occupy himself in reviewing books, but I do not think that he had much power of concentration. My mother-in- law was tactful with him, but he had a decided temper, especially when he played whist. As I did not play, this did not affect me. My younger sister-in-law, Caroline, and I were great friends. She had married Mr. Jenkins, who was well known as a sportsman and an amiable, genial man. His chief claim to fame, apart from his knowledge of horses and their training, was an expedition which he had made to avenge his sister's death in Abyssinia. His sister had married a Mr. Powell and she and her husband had been nmrdered by natives when travelling in that country. Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Powell's brother went to Kgypt, collected followers, went into the territory where the murder had taken place, burned the village which sheltered the aggressors, and had tie chief culprits handed over to them for execution. It was said that 70 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv the fact that a couple of Englishmen would not leave their relatives' death unavenged produced more effect than the whole Abyssinian expedition. The winter after my boy's birth Caroline lost hers, who was a few months older than mine, and was herself very ill, so we invited her and Mr. Jenkins to join us at Cannes, where we had this season taken a villa — Isola Bella. We were the first people who inhabited it. It has since been greatly enlarged and its gardens so extended that it is now one of the finest houses in the place. Even then it was very pretty and attractive, and we enjoyed ourselves greatly. There was a quaint clergyman at that time who had known Caroline when she had been sent as a girl to Hyeres, where he then ministered, and where he had been famous for a head of hair almost too bushy to admit of being covered by a hat. He was anxious to re- claim acquaintance, but though civil she was not effusive. He was noted for paying long visits when he got into anyone's house. I heard of one occasion on which his name was announced to a young lady who was talking to a man cousin whom she knew well. The youth on hearing the name exclaimed that he must hide, and crept under the sofa. The visitor stayed on and on till the young man could stand his cramped position no longer and suddenly appeared. The parson was quite unmoved and unmovable by the apparition of what he took to be a lover, and merely remarked " Don't mind me ! " We found this house so charming that we sent our courier back to England to bring out our boy. My aunt. Lady Agnes, and her husband. Dr. Frank, with their baby girl, lived not far off — they had found Isola Bella for us and were pleasant neighbours. My husband, ISOLA BELLA. CANNES 71 Caroline, and myself found additional occupation in Italian lessons from a fiery little patriot whose name I forget, but who had fought in the war against the Austrians. Among other things he had a lurid story about his mother whose secrets in the Confessional had been betrayed by a priest, resulting in the arrest and I believe death of a relative. After which though the lady continued her prayers she — not unnaturally — de- clined to make further confessions. Our sojourn on this visit to Cannes was further brightened by Conservative triumphs in the 1874 elections. We used to sit after breakfast on a stone terrace in front of the villa, Mr. Jenkins smoking and Jersey doing crochet as a pastime — being no smoker ; and morning after morning the postman would appear \^'ith English papers bringing further tidings of success. The Jenkinses returned to England rather before ourselves — we travelled back towards the end of April in singularly hot weather, and when we reached Dover Jersey left me there for a few days to rest while he went back to Middleton. Unfortunately the journey, or something, had been too nmch for me, and a little girl, who only lived for a day, appeared before her time at the Lord Warden Hotel. It was a great dis- appointment, and I had a somewhat tedious month at the hotel before migrating to 12 Gloucester Square — the house which we had taken for the season. I have no special recollections of that season, though 1 think that it was that year that I met Lord Beacons- field at the Duke of Buccleuch's. It is, however, im- possible to fix exactly the years in wliich one dined in particular places and met particular people, nor is it at all important. I would rather siinmiarise (Jiir life in the country, 72 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv where we had garden parties, cricket matches, and lawn tennis matches at which we were able to entertain our neighbours. Now, alas ! the whole generation who lived near Middleton in those days has almost passed away. Our nearest neighbours were Sir Henry and Lady Dashwood at Kirtlington Park with a family of sons and daughters ; Lord Valentia, who lived with his mother, Mrs. Devereux, and her husband the General at Bletchington ; and the Drakes — old Mrs. Drake and her daughters at Bignell. Sir Henry's family had long lived at Kirtlington, which is a fine house, originally built by the same architect — Smith, of Warwick — who built the new portion of Stoneleigh early in the eigh- teenth century. Sir Henry was a stalwart, pleasant man, and a convinced teetotaller. Later on than the year of which I speak the Dashwoods came over to see some theatricals at Middleton in which my brothers and sisters and some Cholmondeley cousins took part. After the performance they gave a pressing invitation to the performers to go over on a following day to luncheon or tea. A detachment went accordingly, and were treated with great hospitality but rather like strolling players. " Where do you act next ? " and so on, till finally Sir Henry burst out : " What an amusing family yours is ! Not only all of you act, but your uncle Mr. James Leigh gives temperance lectures ! " Sir Henry's son. Sir George Dashwood, had a large family of which three gallant boys lost their lives in the Great War. To universal regret he was obliged to sell Kirtlington. It was bought by Lord Leven, whose brother and heir has in turn sold it to Mr. Budgett. Not long before I married, the then owner of another neighbouring place — Sir Algernon Peyton, M.F.H., of Swift's House, had died. Lord OXFORDSHIRE NEIGHBOURS 73 Valentia took the Bicester hounds which he had hunted, for a time, rented Swift's from his widow, and ulti- mately did the wisest thing by marrying her (1878) and installing her at Bletchington. They are really the only remaining family of my contemporaries sur- viving — and, though they have occasionally let it, they do live now in their own house. They had two sons and six daughters — great friends of my children. The eldest son was killed in the Great War. Another neighbour was a droll old man called Roch- fort Clarke, who lived at a house outside Chesterton village with an old sister-in-law whose name I forget (I think Miss Byrom) — but his wife being dead he was deeply attached to her sister. Soon after our marriage he came to call, and afterwards wrote a letter to con- gratulate us on our happiness and to say that had it not been for the iniquitous law forbidding marriage with a deceased wife's sister we should have seen a picture of equal domestic felicity in him and Miss . He was very anxious to convert Irish Roman Catholics to the ultra-Protestant faith, and he interpreted the Second Commandment to forbid all pictures of any sort or kind. None were allowed in his house. Once he wrote a letter to the papers to protest against the ritualism embodied in a picture in Chesterton Church — an extremely evangelical place where Moody and Sankey hymns prevailed. Later on the clergyman took me into the church to show me the offending idol. It consisted of a diminutive figure — as far as 1 could see of a man — in a very small window high up over the west door. The most appalling shock was inflicted upon him by a visit to the Exhibition of 1851, where various statuary was displayed including Gibson's " Tinted Venus." This impelled him to break into a 74 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv song of protest of which I imperfectly recollect four lines to this effect : " Tell me, Victoria, can that borrowed grace Compare with Albert's manly form and face ? And tell me, Albert, can that shameless jest Compare with thy Victoria clothed and dressed ? " The sister-in-law died not long after I knew him, and he then married a respectable maid-servant whom he brought to see us dressed in brown silk and white gloves. Shortly afterwards he himself departed this life and the property was bought by the popular Bicester banker Mr. Tubb, who married Miss Stratton — a second cousin of mine — built a good house, from which pictures were not barred, and had four nice daughters. I cannot name all the neighbours, but should not omit the old Warden of Merton, Mr. Marsham, who lived with his wife and sons at Caversfield. The eldest son, Charles Marsham, who succeeded to the place after his death, was a great character well known in the hunting and cricket fields. He was a good fellow with a hot temper which sometimes caused trying scenes. To- wards the end of his life he developed a passion for guessing Vanity Fair acrostics, and when he saw you instead of " How d'ye do ? " he greeted you with " Can you remember what begins with D and ends with F ? " or words to that effect. There was a famous occasion when, as he with several others from Middleton were driving to Meet, one of my young brothers sug- gested some solution at which he absolutely scoffed. When the hounds threw off, however, Charlie Marsham disappeared and missed a first-class run. It was ultimately discovered that he had slipped away to a telegraph office to send off a solution embodying my brother's suggestion ! CAVERSFIELD CHURCH 75 Caversfield Church was a small building of consider- able antiquity standing very close to the Squire's house. The present Lord North, now an old man, has told me that long ago when he was Master of Hounds he passed close to this church out cub-hunting at a very early hour, when the sound of most beautiful singing came from the tower, heard not only by himself but by the huntsmen and whips who were with him — 80 beautiful that they paused to listen. Next time he met the clergyman, who was another Marsham son, he said to him, " What an early service you had in your church on such a day ! " "I had no weekday service," replied Mr. Marsham, and professed entire ignorance of the " angelic choir." I have never discovered any tradition connected with Caversfield Church which should have induced angels to come and sing their morning anthem therein, but it is a pretty tale, and Lord North was convinced that he had heard this music. One thing is certain, the tiny agricultural parish of Caversfield could not have produced songsters to chant Matins while the world at large was yet wrapped in slumber. Thinking of Caversfield Church, I recollect attending a service there when the Bishop of Oxford (Mackarness, I believe) preached at its reopening after restoration. In the course of his sermon he remarked that there had been times when a congregation instead of thinking of the preservation and beautifying of the sacred building only considered how they should make them- selves comfortable therein. This, as reported by the local representative, appeared in the Bicester paper as an episcopal comment that in former days people had neglected to make themselves comfortable in church. However, my old Archdeacon uncle-by-mar- 76 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv riage, Lord Saye and Sele, who was a distinctly uncon- ventional thinker, once remarked to my mother that he had always heard church compared to heaven, and as heaven was certainly the most comfortable place possible he did not see why church should not be made comfortable. The old family pew at Middleton Church had been reseated with benches to look more or less like the rest of the church before I married, but was still a little raised and separated by partitions from the rest of the congregation. Later on it was levelled and the partitions removed. From the point of view of " comfort," and apart from all other considerations, I do think that the square " Squire's Pew " — as it still exists at Stoneleigh — where the occupants sit facing each other — is not an ideal arrangement. At Broughton Castle — the old Saye and Sele home — one of the bedrooms had a little window from which you could look down into the chapel belonging to the house without the effort of descending. Once when we stayed there and my mother was not dressed in time for Morning Prayers she adopted this method of sharing in the family devotions. Broughton Castle, and Lord North's place, Wroxton Abbey (now for sale) are both near Banbury, which is about thirteen miles from Middleton — nothing in the days of motors, but a more serious consideration when visits had to be made with horses, Mr. Cecil Bourke was clergyman at Middleton when I married and had two very nice sisters, but he migrated to Reading about two years later, and was succeeded by the Rev. W. H. Draper, who has been there ever since. He is an excellent man who has had a good wife and eleven children. Mrs. Draper died lately, to the sorrow of her many friends. Some of the children LIFE AT MIDDLETON 77 have also gone, but others are doing good work in various parts of the Empire. Old Lord Strathnairn, of Mutiny fame, was once staying with us at J\Iiddleton. He was extremely deaf and apt to be two or three periods behind in the conversation. Someone men- tioned leprosy and its causes at dinner, and after two or three remarks that subject was dropped, and another took its place, in which connection I observed that our clerg}mian's wife had eleven children. Lord Strath- nairn, with his mind still on " leprousy," turned to me and in his usual courteous manner remarked, "It is not catching, I believe ? " Among other neighbours were Mr. and Mrs. Hibbert at Bucknell Manor, who had six well-behaved little daughters whom, though they treated them kindly, they regarded as quite secondary to their only son. On the other hand, Mr. and Mrs. Dewar at Cotmore were perfectly good to their four sons, but the only daughter distinctly ruled the roost. Moral : if a boy baby has any choice he had better select a family of sisters in which to be born, and the contrary advice should be tendered to a female infant. To return to our own affairs. The little girl whom we lost in April 1874 was replaced, to our great pleasure, by another little daughter born at Middleton, October 8th, 1875, and christened Margaret like the baby who lay beneath a white marble cross in the churchyard. The new little ]\Iargaret became and has remained a constant treasure. Villiers' first words were " Hammer, hammer," which he picked up from hearing the constant hammering at the tank in the new water-tower. He was very pleased witli liis sister, but a trifle jeakKis of the attentions paid her by his nurse. A rather quaint incident took place at the baby's christening. When 78 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv Villiers was born, old Lord Bathurst, then aged eighty- two, asked to come and see him as he had known my husband's great -grandmother Frances, Lady Jersey (the admired of George IV) , and wanted to see the fifth generation. We asked him to stay at Middleton for the little girl's christening, and after dinner to propose the baby's health. He asked her name, and when I told him " Mar- garet " he murmured, " What memories that brings back ! " and fell into a reverie. When he rose for the toast he confided to the family that her great-grand- mother on my side — Margarette, Lady Leigh — had been his first love and repeated, " Maggie Willes, Maggie Willes, how I remember her walking down the streets of Cirencester ! " He was a wonderful man for falling in love — even when he was quite old he was always fascinated by the youngest available girl — but he died unmarried. Perhaps one love drove out the other before either had time to secure a firm footing in his heart. Lord Bathurst told me that when he was a middle- aged man and friend of the family Sarah Lady Jersey was very anxious to secure Prince Nicholas Esterhazy for her eldest daughter Sarah (a marriage which came off in due course). She had asked him to stay at Middleton, and it was generally believed that if he accepted the match would be arranged. Lord Bathurst in November 1841 was riding into Oxford when he met Lady Jersey driving thence to Middleton. She put her head out of the carriage and called to him, " We have got our Prince ! " At that time the Queen was expect- ing her second child, and Lord Bathurst, more occupied with Her Majesty's hopes than with those of Lady Jersey, at once assumed that this meant a Prince of MR. DISRAELI 79 Wales, and rode rapidly on to announce the joyful tidings. These were almost immediately verified, and he gained credit for ver}* early intelligence. He was a gallant old man, and despite his years climbed a fence when staying at Middleton. He died between two and three years later. On a visit to the Exeters at Burghlcy, near Stam- ford, we had met Mr. and Mrs. Finch of Burley-on-the- Hill, near Oakham, and they asked us to stay with them soon after little Margaret's birth. I mention this because it was here that I met Lady Galloway, who became my great friend, and with whom later on I shared many delightful experiences. She was a hand- some and fascinating woman a few months younger than mvself. It was in this year, May 18th, 1875, that Disraeli wrote to Jersey offering him the appointment of Lord- in- Waiting to the Queen — saying, " I think, also, my selection would be pleasing to Her Majesty, as many members of your family have been connected with the Court." On May 28th he notified the Queen's ap- proval. (It is rather quaint that the first letter begins " My dear Jersey " — the second " My dear Villiers." My husband was never called " Villiers," but Disraeli knew his grandfather and father, who were both so called.) Jersey used to answer for Local Government in the House of Lords. The Queen was always very kind to him, as she had known his grandmother so well, and told me once that Lady Clementina had been her playfellow. She was his godmother ; she records it if I remember rightly in the Life of the Prince Consort, or anyhow in a letter or Diary of the period, and says there that she became godmother as a token of friend- ship to Sir Koliert Peel — his mother's father. She 80 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv declared to us that she had held him in her arms at his christening, and of course it was not for us to contra- dict Her Majesty : but I think that she officiated by proxy. She gave him two or three of her books in which she wrote his name as " Victor Alexander/' and again we accepted the nomenclature. As a matter of fact he was " Victor Albert George " and always called " George " in the family. He had, however, the greatest respect and affection for his royal godmother, and valued her beautiful christening cup. As Lord-in- Waiting he had to attend the House of Lords when in session, and spoke occasionally — he always sat near his old friend Lord de Ros, who was a permanent Lord- in-Waiting. I used to go fairly often to the House during the years which followed his appointment and before we went to Australia, and heard many interesting debates. Jersey and I always considered the late Duke of Argyll and the late Lord Cranbrook as two of the finest orators in the House. The Duke was really splendid, and with his fine head and hair thrown back he looked the true Highland Chieftain. Several much less effective speakers would sometimes persist in addressing the House, I remember Lord Houghton exciting much laughter on one occasion when he said of some point in his speech " and that reminds me," he paused and repeated " and that reminds me," but the impromptu would not spring forth till he shook his head and pulled a slip of paper, on which it was carefully written, out of his waistcoat pocket. I was told, though I was not present, of a house- party of which the Duke of Argyll and Lord Houghton both formed part. One evening — Sunday evening, I believe — Lord Houghton offered to read to the assembled FROUDE AND KINGSLEY 81 company Fronde's account of the " Pilgrimage of Grace " in his History of Emjlayid. Most of them seem to have submitted more or less cheerfully, but the Duke, becoming bored, retired into the background with a book which he had taken from the table. Just when Lord Houghton had reached the most thrilling part and had lowered his voice to give due emphasis to the narrative, the Duke, who had completely forgotten what was going on, threw dov\Ti his book and exclaimed, " What an extraordinary character of Nebuchad- nezzar ! " Whereupon Lord Houghton in turn threw down Froude and in wrathful accents cried, " One must be a Duke and a Cabinet Minister to be guilty of such rudeness ! " Froude was rather a friend of ours — a pleasant though slightly cynical man. I recollect him at Lady Derby's one evening saying that books were objection- able ; all books ought to be burnt. I ventured to suggest that he had written various books which I had read with pleasure — why did he write them if such was his opinion ? He shrugged his shoulders and remarked, " 11 faut vivre." When Lady Derby told this afterwards to Lord Derby he said that I ought to have given the classic reply, " Je n'en vois pas la necessite," but perhaps this would have been going a little far. Froude and Kingsloy were brothers-in-law, having married two Misses Grenfell. On one occasion the former was giving a liectorial Address at 8t. Andrews and remarked on the untrustworthiness of clerical statements. About the same time Kingslcy gave a discourse at Cambridge in which he quoted a para- dox of Walpole's to the eifect that whatever else is true, history is not. Some epigrammists there- 82 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv upon perpetrated the following lines. I quote from memory : " Froude informs the Scottish youth Parsons seldom speak the truth ; While at Cambridge Kingsley cries ' History is a pack of lies ! ' Whence these judgments so malign ? A little thought will solve the mystery. For Froude thinks Kingsley a divine And Kingsley goes to Froude for history." The Galloways when we first made their acquaintance lived at 17 Upper Grosvenor Street. In 1875 we occupied 17a Great Cumberland Street — and in 1876 a nice house belonging to Mr. Bassett in Charles Street — but in 1877 we bought 3 Great Stanhope Street, being rather tired of taking houses for the season. My second (surviving) daughter Mary was born here on May 26th — a beautiful baby, god-daughter to Lady Galloway and Julia Wombwell. My third and youngest daughter, Beatrice, was born at Folkestone October 12th, 1880, and the family was completed three years later by Arthur, born November 24th, 1883, to our great joy, as it endowed us with a second son just before his elder brother went to Mr. Chignell's school — Castle- mount — at Dover. In the same month, but just before Arthur was born, our tenant at Osterley, the old Duchess of Cleveland (Caroline), died. She was a fine old lady and an excel- lent tenant, caring for the house as if it had been her own. She had most generous instincts, and once when part of the stonework round the roof of Osterley had been destroyed by a storm she wrote to my husband saying that she had placed a considerable sum with his bankers to aid in its restoration. This was unex- pected and certainly unsolicited, which made it all the JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 83 more acceptable. We should never have thought of disturbing her during her lifetime, and even when she died our tirst idea was to relet the place to a suitable tenant. I had never lived there (though we once slept for a night durijig the Duchess's tenure), so had no associations with, and had never realised, the beauty of, the place. However, after her death we thought we would give one garden-party before reletting, which we did in 188-4. The day was perfect, and an unex- pected number of guests arrived. We were fascinated with the place and decided to keep it as a " suburban " home instead of letting, and it became the joy of my life and a great pleasure to my husband. I ^vill speak of some of our guests later on, but I must first mention some of those whom we knew at Great Stanhope Street and Middleton during the earlier years of our married life. One of our great friends was the American Minister Mr. Lowell. Looking through some of his letters, I recall his perfect charm of manner in speaking and in writing. The simplest occurrence, such as changing the date of a dinner- party in 1882, gave him the opportunity of words which might have befitted a courtier of old days : " Her Majesty — long life to her — has gone and ap- pointed Saturday, June 3rd, to be born on. After sixty-three years to learn wisdom in, she can do nothing better than take my Saturday away from me — for I must go to drink her health at the Foreign Of lice ! 'Tis enough to make a democrat of any Tory that ever was except you. 1 have moved on my poor little dijuicr to 5th. I can make no other combination in the near future, what witli Her xMajcsty's engagements and mine, but that. Can you come then 'i Or is my table to lose its pearl ? If you can't, I Bhall make another specially for you." 84 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv Before I knew Mr. Lowell personally 1 was introduced to his works by Mr. Tom Hughes (" Tom Brown '' of the " Schooldays ") who stayed with us at Middleton at the beginning of 1880 and gave me a copy of Lowell's poems carefully marked with those he preferred. Four years later in August Lowell stayed with us there. It was a real hot summer, and he wrote into Hughes' gift these verses which certainly make the volume doubly precious : " Tiirbid from Loudon's noise and smoke. Here found I air and quiet too, Air filtered through the beech and oak, Quiet that nothing harsher broke Than stockdoves' meditative coo. " So I turn Tory for the nonce And find the Radical a bore Who cannot see (thick-witted dunce !) That what was good for people once Must be as good for evermore. " Sun, sink no deeper down the sky, Nature, ne'er leave this summer mood, Breeze, loiter thus for ever by, Stir the dead leaf or let it lie, Since I am happy, all is good ! " This poem was afterwards republished under the title " The Optimist "' in a collection called Heartsease and Rite. Lowell added four additional stanzas between the first and the last two, elaborating the description and the underlying idea. I think, however, that the three original ones are the best, particularly the gentle hit at the '' Tory " — with whom he loved to identify me. The " stockdoves " were the woodpigeons whose cooing on our lawn soothed and delighted him. Mr. Hughes told me that he had first made Mr. Lowell's acquaintance by correspondence, having written to him to express his admiration of one of his works. I have T. HUGHES AND J. R. LOWELL 85 just discovered that iii an Introduction to his Collected Works published 1891 Hughes says that Triibner asked him in 1859 to write a preface to the English edition of the Biglow Papers which gave him the long-desired opportunity of writing to the author. He also told me — which he also describes in the Introduction — how nervous he was when about at last to meet his unknown friend lest he should not come up to the ideal which he had formed, and how overjoyed he w^as to find him even more delightful than his letters. In a fit of generosity Hughes, quite unasked, gave me a very interesting letter which Lowell wrote him on his appointment to England in 1880. It is a long letter, some of it dealing with private matters, but one passage may be trans- cribed : " I have been rather amused with some of the com- ments of your press that have been sent me. They almost seem to think I shall come in a hostile spirit, because I have commented sharply on the pretension and incompetence of one or two British bookmakers ! It is also more than hinted that I said bitter things about England during our war. Well, I hope none of my commentators will ever have as good reason to be bitter. It is only Englislimen who have the happy privilege of speaking frankly about their neighbours, and only they who are never satisfied unless an outsider likes England better than his own country. Thank God I have spoken my mind at home too, when it would have been far more comfortable to hold my tongue. Had 1 felt less kindly toward England, perhaps I shouldn't have been so bitter, if bitter 1 was." Mr. Hughes records, again in the Introduction, that Lowell said in one of his letters during the American War, " We are all as cross as terriers with your kind of neutrality " — but he rejoiceii in the gradual increasing 7 86 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv warmth of his^feeling for England as he grew to know her better during the last years of his life. While I knew him he was always most friendly, and it is pleasant to recall him sitting in the garden at Osterley on peaceful summer evenings enjoying specially that blue haze peculiar to the Valley of the Thames which softens without obscuring the gentle English landscape. One more letter, including a copy of verses, I cannot resist copying. In July 1887 he endowed me with Omar Khayyam, and some months later I received this— dated " At sea, 2nd November 1887 " : " Some verses have been beating their wings against the walls of my brain ever since I gave you the Omar Khayyam. I don't think they will improve their feathers by doing it longer. So I have caught and caged them on the next leaf that you may if you like paste them into the book. With kindest regards to Lord Jersey and in the pleasant hope of seeing you again in the spring. Faithfully yours, J. R. Lowell." " With a copy of Omar Khayyam. " These pearls of thought in Persian gulfs were bred, Each softly lucent as a rounded moon : The diver Omar plucked them from their bed, Fitzgerald strung them on an English thread. " Fit rosary for a queen in shape and hue When Contemplation tells her pensive beads Of mortal thoughts for ever old and new : Fit for a queen ? Why, surely then, for you ! " The moral ? When Doubt's eddies toss and twirl Faith's slender shallop 'neath our reeling feet. Plunge ! If you find not peace beneath the whirl. Groping, you may at least bring back a pearl." He adds beneath the lines : " My pen has danced to the dancing of the ship." MR. GLADSTONE ON IMMORTALITY 87 The verses (of course not the covering letter) appeared in Heartsease and Rue. Mr. Lowell stayed with us at Osterley in the two summers following his return. He died in America just before we went to Australia. We knew Robert Browning pretty w^ell, and I re- collect one interesting conversation which I had with him on death and immortality. Of the former he had the rather curious idea that the soul's last sojourn in the body was just between the eyebrows. He said that he had seen several people die, and that the last movement was there. I cannot think that a quiver of the forehead proves it. For immortality, he said that he had em- bodied his feelings in the " Old Pictures in Florence " in the lines ending " I have had troubles enough for one." No one, however, can read his poems without realising his faith in the hereafter. How diverse are the views of great men on this mystery ! Lady Galloway wrote to me once from Knowsley of a talk she had had with Mr. Gladstone which I think worth recording in her own words : " The theory of Mr. Gladstone's that mostly interested me last night was — that every soul was not of necessity immortal — that all the Christian faith of the innnortality of the soul and resurrection of the body was a new doctrine ijitroduced and revealed by our Lord in whom alone, maybe, we receive immortal life. This lie only swjgests, you understand — does not lay it down — but I don't think I have quite grasped his idea of the mystery of death, which as far as I can understand he thinks Man would not have been subject to but for the Fall — not tli;ii Death did not exist before the Fall — but that it would have been a diiTeront kind of thing. h\ fact that the connection between Sin and Death meant that you lost inmiortality thru' Sin and gained it thro' Christ." 88 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv I might as well insert here part of a letter from Edwin Arnold, author of The Light of Asia, which he wrote me in January 1885 after reading an article which I had perpetrated in The National Review on Buddhism. I had not known him previously, but he did me the honour to profess interest in my crude efforts and to regret what he considered a misconception of Gautama's fundamemtal idea. He continues : " I remember more than one passage which seemed to show that you considered Nirvana to be annihila- tion ; and the aim and summum honum of the Buddhist to escape existence finally and utterly. Permit me to invite you not to adopt this view too decidedly in spite of the vast authority of men like Max Miiller, Rhys David, and others. My own studies (which I am far from ranking with theirs, in regard of industry and learning) convince me that it was, in every case, the embodied life ; life as we know it and endure it, which Gautama desired to be for ever done with. ... I believe that when St. Paul writes ' the things not seen are eternal,' he had attained much such a height of insight and foresight as Buddha under the Bodhi Tree. I even fancy that when Professor Tyndall lectures on the light-rays which are invisible to our eyes, and the cosmical sounds which are inaudible to ears of flesh and blood, he approaches by a physical path the confines of that infinite and enduring life of which Orientals dreamed metaphysically. '' After this Mr. Arnold — afterwards Sir Edwin — became numbered among our friends, and was very kind in giving us introductions when we wenb to India, as I will record later. Meantime I may mention a quaint bit of palmistry or thought-reading connected with him. We had a friend, Augusta Webb of Newstead, now Mrs. Eraser, who was an expert in this line. She was calling on me one day THOUGHT-READING 89 when I mentioned casually that I had met Mr. Arnold, whose LigJit of Asia she greatly admired. She expressed a great wish to meet him, so I said, " He is coming to dine this evening — you had better come also." She accepted with enthusiasm. He sat next to me, and to please her I put her on his other side. In the course of dinner something was said about favourite flowers, and I exclaimed, " Augusta, tell Mr. Arnold his favourite flower." She looked at his hand and said without hesitation, " I don't know its name, but I think it is a white flower rather like a rose and with a very strong scent." He remarked, astonished, '* I wish I had written it down beforehand to show how right you are. It is an Indian flower." (I forget the name, which he said he had mentioned in The Light of Asia), " white and strong-smelling and something like a tuberose." It is impossible that Augusta could have known before- hand. Her sister told me later that she did occa- sionally perceive a person's thought and that this was one of the instances. To return to Thomas Hughes, who originally gave me Lowell's poems. He was an enthusiast and most conscientious. On the occasion when, as I said before, he stayed at Middleton he promised to tell my boy Villiers — then six and a half years old — a story. Hav- ing been prevented from doing so, he sent the story by post, carefully written out with this charming letter : " Fc'jruary Ul, 1880. " My dear little Man, " I was quite sorry this morning when you said to me, as we were going away, ' Ah, but you have never told me about the King of the Cats, as you j)r()]iiiH(>d.' I was always taught when I was a little fellow, suialler than you, that i must never ' run word,' even if it 90 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv cost me my knife with three blades and a tweezer, or my ivory dog-whistle, which were the two most precious things I had in the world. And my father and mother not only told me that I must never ' run word/ for they knew that boys are apt to forget what they are only told, but they never * ran word ' with me, which was a much surer way to fix what they told me in my head ; because boys find it hard to forget what they see the old folk that they love do day by day. " So I have tried all my long life never to ' run word,' and as I said I would tell you the story about Rodilardus the King of the Cats, and as I can't tell it you by word of mouth because you are down there in the bright sunshine at Middleton, and I am up here in foggy old London, I must tell it you in this way, though I am not sure that you will be able to make it all out. I know you can read, for I heard you read the psalm at prayers this morning very well ; only as Mama was reading out of the same book over your shoulder, perhaps you heard what she said, and that helped you a little to keep up with all the rest of us. But a boy may be able to read his psalms in his prayer book and yet not able to read a long piece of writing like this, though I am making it as clear as I can. So if you cannot make it all out you must just take it off to Mama and get her to look over your shoulder and tell you what it is all about. Well then, you know what I told you was, that I used to think that some people could get to understand what cats said to one another, and to wish very much that 1 could make out their talk myself. But all this time I have never been able to make out a word of it, and do not now think that anybody can. Only I am quite sure that any boy or man who is fond of cats, and tries to make out what they mean, and what they want, will learn a great many things that will help to make him kind and wise. And when you asked me why I used to think that I could learn cat-talk I said I would tell you that story about the King of the Cats which was told to me when TOM HUGHES AND RUGBY, TENNESSEE 91 I was a very little fellow about your age. And so here it is/' The story itself is a variant, very picturesquely and graphically told, of an old folk-tale, which I think appears in Grinini, of a cat who, overhearing an account given by a human being of the imposing funeral of one of his race, exclaims, " Then I am King of the Cats ! " and disappears up the chimney. Tom Hughes, at the time of his visit to Middleton, was very keen about the town which he proposed to found on some kind of Christian-socialist principles, to be called " New Rugby," in Tennessee. It was to have one church, to be used by the various denominations, and to be what is now called " Pussyfoot." What hap- pened about the church I know not, but I have heard as regards the teetotalism that drinks were buried by traders just outside the sacred boundaries and dug up secretly by the townsmen. Anyhow, I fear that the well-meant project resulted in a heavy loss to poor Hughes. I recollect that Lord Galloway's servant sug- gested that he would like to accompany Mr. Hughes to the States — " and I would valet you, sir." Hughes repudiated all idea of valeting, but was willing to accept the man as a comrade. All he got by his democratic offer was that the man told the other servants that Mr. Hughes did not understand real Englisli aristocracy. Which reminds me of a pleasing definition given by the Matron of our Village Training School for Servants of the nmch-discussed word " gentleman." She told mo one day that her sister had asked for one of our girls as servant. As we generally sent them to rather superior sit nations, I hcHitat^MJ, thoiigli I did not like to refuse straight ofT, and asked, " What is your brother in- 92 EARLY MARRIED LIFE [ch. iv law ? '" " He is a gentleman," was the answer. Ob- serving that I looked somewhat surprised, the Matron hastened to add, " You see, my sister keeps a temper- ance hotel, and in such a case the husband does not work, only cleans the windows and boots and so on." Whereby I gather that not to work for regular wages is the hall-mark of a gentleman ! But a girl was not provided for the place. 1 believe that Henry James was first introduced to us by Mr. Lowell, and became a frequent visitor after- wards. He was an intimate friend of my uncle the Dean of Hereford and of his mother-in-law Mrs. Kemble. Under the name of Summersoft he gives a delightful description of Osterley in his novel The Lesson of the Master. " It all went together and spoke in one voice — a rich English voice of the early part of the eighteenth century." The Gallery he calls " a cheerful upholstered avenue into the other century." One dinner at Norfolk House lingers specially in my memory ; it was in the summer of 1880 and was to meet Dr. Newman not long after he had been promoted to the dignity of Cardinal — an honour which many people considered overdue. A large party was assembled and stood in a circle ready to receive the new " Prince of the Church," who was conducted into the room by the Duke. As soon as he entered a somewhat ancient lady, Mrs. W — H — , who was a convert to " the Faith," went forward and grovelled before him on her knees, kissing his hand with much effusion, and I fancy embarrassing His Eminence considerably. My aunt, the Duchess of Westminster, who was very handsome but by no means slim, was standing next to me and whispered, " Margaret, shall we have to do that ? because I should never be able to get up again ! " CARDINAL NEWMAN 93 However, none of the Roman Catholics present seemed to consider such extreme genuflections necessary. I think they made some reasonable kind of curtsy as he was taken round, and then we went in to dinner. Somewhat to my surprise and certainly to my pleasure, I found mvself seated next to the Cardinal and found him very attractive. I asked him whether the " Gerontius " of the poem was a real person, and he smiled and said " No," but I think he was pleased that I had read it. I never met him again, but in October 1882 I was greatly surprised to receive a book with this charming letter written from Birmingham : ** Madam, " 1 have but one reason for venturing, as I do, to ask your Ladyship's acceptance of a volume upon the Russian Church which I am publishing, the work of a dear friend now no more. That reason is the desire I feel of expressing in some way my sense of your kindness to me two years ago, when 1 had the honour of meeting you at Norfolk House, and the little proba- bility there is, at my age, of my having any other opportunity of doing so. " I trust you will accept this explanation, and am " Your Ladyship's faithful servant, " John H. Cardinal Newman." The book was }soies of a Visit to the Russian Church by Lord Selborne's brother, Mr. W. Palmer, edited and with a Preface by Cardinal Newman. I have never been able to understand what he considered my kind- ness, as 1 thought the Great Man so kind to me, a young female heretic. CHAPTER V BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 I FIND it difficult to recall all our foreign travels. In 1876 I paid — with my husband — my first visit to Switzerland, and three years later we went again — this time making the doubtful experiment of taking with us Villiers aged six and Margaret (called Markie) aged three. Somehow we conveyed these infants over glaciers and mountains to various places, including Zermatt, We contrived a sort of awning over a chaise a porteurs carried by guides — but they did a good bit of walking also. I was really terrified on one occasion when we drove in a kind of dog- cart down precipitous roads along the edge of precipices. The children sat on either side of me — their little legs too short to reach the floor of the carriage. I had an arm round either, feeling — I believe justly — that if I let go for a moment the child would be flung into space. Jersey was walk- ing — the maid, I suppose, with courier and luggage — anyhow I had sole responsibility for the time being. Our courier was excellent, and no matter where we arrived contrived to produce a rice-pudding on which the children insisted. It is unnecessary to describe the well-known scenes through which we passed. Switzerland impressed me, as it does all travellers, with its grandeur and beauty — but I never loved it as I did the South and, later on, the East. Another winter we went — after Christmas — with 94 SARAH BERNHARDT 95 Villiers only — to Biarritz ; again I did not think it southern enough in sky and vegetation to rival the Riviera, tliough the pinewoods, and great billows roll- ing in from the sea, were attractive. Soon afterwards we embarked in a governess — a clever young woman called Ada INIason, who was recommended by Lady Derby. She had been a show pupil at the Liverpool Girls' College, and before we engaged her permanently she went to complete her French education in Paris. She stayed with us till she married in Australia. In March 1883 we took Villiers, Markie, and Miss Mason to the Riviera, Florence, and Venice. I do not know that there is anything exceptional to record. I observe in a short journal which I kept on this occasion that Jersey and I while in Paris went to the Vaudeville to see Sarah Bernhardt in Fedora. My comment is : " She acted wonderfully but I did not think much of the play. The great coup was supposed to be when the hero gave her a bang on the head, but as that used to make the ladies faint he contented himself with par- tially throttling her wlien we saw it." 1 suppose French ladies are more susceptible than Englisli. Once in after years I went with a friend to see the divine Sarah in Im To.sca. I thought the torture part horrid enough, but when La Tosca had killed the wicked Governor my companion observed ]ilaintively, " We did not see any blood," as if it were not sulliciently realistic. On this same journey abroad we visited, as on various other occasions, the He St. Honorat and Stt^ Marguerite, a picnic party being given on the former by Lord Abercromby and Mr. Savilc. Tlie Ducliesse dc Val- lombrosa brought Marshal McMahon, and special interest wiiii excited on tliis occasion siiico Bazaine had lately 96 BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. v escaped from what had been formerly the prison of the Masque de Fer. Jersey went with some of the party to Ste Marguerite, and Marshal McMahon told Mr. Savile that he did not connive at Bazaine's escape, but that Madame Bazaine came to him and asked when he would let her husband out. He replied, ** In six years, or six months, if he is a hon gargon " ; so she went out saying, " Then 1 shall know what to do,'" and slammed the door after her, with the evident purpose of unlock- ing another door, which she accomplished. Marshal McMahon must have been a fine fellow, but hardly possessed of French readiness of speech if this story which I have heard of him is true. He waS to review the Cadets at a Military College — St. Cyr, I think — and was begged beforehand to say a special word of encouragement to a young Algerian who was in training there. When it came to the point the only happy remark which occurred to him was, " Ah — vous etes le negre — eh bien continuez le ! "' From Cannes we went to several other places, in- cluding Spezzia, Genoa, Venice, and Florence. We saw all the orthodox sights in each place and at Florence dined with Mr. John Meyer and his first wife, who, if I remember rightly, was a Fitzgerald. He was in the exceptional position of having no nationality — he was somehow connected with Germany and Russia (not to speak of Judaea) and had been in South America and Switzerland. He had been a Russian, but had lost that nationality as having been twenty-five years absent from that country. He wanted to become an Englishman, as his wife wanted to send her boy to school in England, but it would mean a lengthened residence or a private Act of Parliament costing £3,000. In the end the nice Mrs. Meyer who entertained us on DEATH OF GILBERT LEIGH 97 this occasion died, and he bought an Italian Marquisate and turned into an Italian ! He married as his second wife a beautiful Miss Fish, and I last saw them in their charming villa near Florence. The Meyers were pleasant hosts, and it was at the diimer which I have mentioned that I first made the acquaintance of a telephone. They had asked some people to come in after dinner, and to show how the instrument worked telephoned to invite an additional guest. I never encountered a telephone at a private house in London till long afterwards. Our younger children, Mary and Beatrice, stayed during our absence at our little Welsh home — Baglan House, near Briton Ferry — a place which all our chil- dren loved. In 1884 a great sorrow befell our family. My brother Gilbert, then M.P. for South Warwickshire, w^ent in August of that year to America with Mr. W. H. Grenfell — now Lord Desborough — with the object of getting some bear-shooting in the Rockies. Towards the end of the month they began camping — but the hunting was not good, as Indians had previously driven the part of the country which they visited with the view of getting game for their side. Mr. Grenfell's journal records frost at the end of August and heavy snow on the night of September 1st. On September V2th they pitched a camp in the Big Horn Mountains on a charm- ing spot close to a clear, rocky river with trees and high walls on either side. On Sunday the 14th, a boiling hot day, they had an hour's wash in the river, and after luncheon (Jillie started oil down the Ten Sleeper canon alone on his horse — he was never seen alive again. For a whole week Mr. Grenfell and the three men whom they had with them searched in every 98 BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. v possible direction, and at last, on the 21st, they found my brother lying dead at the foot of a precipice from which he had evidently fallen and been instantaneously killed — " a terrible way," writes Mr. Grenfell, " to find a friend who had endeared himself to all — always cheery and ready to make the best of everything — nothing put him out " — " his simplicity, absence of self-assertion, and quaint humour made him a general favourite — whatever happened he never complained and did not know what fear was." The news did not reach England till some three days later, and it is impossible to dwell on the terrible sorrow of all who loved him so dearly. My brother Dudley was mercifully in the States at the time of the fatal accident, and my uncle James Leigh set off at once to bring the body home ; but the long wait — till October 20th — was unspeakably trying most of all for my poor parents, who were broken-hearted. My mother put a bunch of white rosebuds on his coffin, for when a little boy he had said one day that his " idea of love was a bunch of roses." I will only add her verses on her firstborn son : *' He is gone, and gone for ever, ' Coming home again ' now never — If 'tis cold he feels it not, Recks not if 'tis scorching hot. But by children circled round Roams the happy hunting-ground, Pure in heart and face as they, Gladsome in God's glorious day. " If I see him once again Will he tell me of his pain ? Did he shout or cry or call When he saw that he must fall ? Feel one pang of mortal fear When the fatal plunge was near 'i IN ITALY, 1884 99 "Or to the last— to fear a stranger — Think to triumph over danger ? ■* I think so — on his marble face Fright and terror left no trace — Still — as if at Stoneleigh sleeping. There he lay — all the weeping Broke in streams from other eyes Far away. But to him come not again Cold or heat or griof or pain." Gilly was truly " to fear a stranger." He had, as Mr. Grenfell recounts, been six times before to the Rocky Mountain country and always had extraordinary adventures — once he rode his horse along a ledge till he could neither go forward nor turn, and had to slip over its tail and climb out, leaving the anunal to shift for itself. Two cowboys roped and got the saddle and bridle off and left the horse, which somehow backed out and got down without injury. Earlier in the year 1884 Jersey, Lady Galloway, and I made a pleasant tour among the Italian Lakes, including a run to Milan for Easter Sunday, where we heard some of the splendid service in the Cathedral. We took with us Villiers, his last trip abroad before his regular schooldays. He had attended Miss Woodman's classes during two or three London seasons, and had had a visiting tutor from Oxford — Mr. Angel Smith — for the past year or so at Middleton ; but on May Ist, after our return from the I^akes, he went to Mr. Chig- nell's, Castlemount, Dover, where he remained till he went to Eton three years later. He had an unvaryingly good record both for the lessons and conduct while at Ca.stlemount. 1 have no speciul n.'collection of the two following years, so pass on to 1887. That winter J^ady Galloway 100 BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. v was in Kussia and was to stay in Berlin with the Ambas- sador, Sir Edward Malet, and his wife, Lady Ermyn- trude, on her return. The Malets very kindly invited me to meet her and to spend a few days at the Embassy. I arrived there on February 21st, and found Lady Galloway and her sister-in-law Lady Isabel Stewart already installed. The following afternoon the routine of German court etiquette — now a thing of the past — began. Lady Ermyntrude took us to leave cards on the various members of the Corps Diplomatique and then proceeded to present Mrs. Talbot (now Lady Talbot) and myself to Grafin Perponcher, the Empress's Ober- meisterin. She was a funny old soul in a wig, but re- garded as next door to royalty, and it was therefore correct to make half a curtsy when introduced to her. It was a great thing to have anyone so kind, and yet so absolutely aware of all the shades of ceremonial, as Lady Ermyntrude, to steer us through the Teutonic pitfalls. In the evening we were taken to the Carnival Court Ball, where we stood in a row behind Lady Ermyntrude to be presented to the Crown Prince and Princess as they came round. The Diplomatic people were on the left of the royal seats. The Weisser Saal was lighted partly with candles and partly with electric lights ; one felt that either one or the other would have had a better effect, but no doubt that was all rectified in later years. We were presently taken into an outer room or gallery to be presented to the Empress Augusta, who was seated in a chair with a sort of Stonehenge of chairs in front. She was attired in what appeared to be royal robes heavy with gold embroidery and gigantic diamonds, but she looked almost like a resurrected corpse, except that her eyes were still large and wonderfully bright COURT BALL IN BERLIN 101 and glittering as if they had little torches behind them. I fancy that she had some preparation of belladonna dropped into them on these occasions. Her mouth was always a little open, giving the impression that she wanted to speak but could not ; really, however, she talked fast enough, and was very gracious in sending messages to my grandmother Westminster. After our presentation we had to sit in Stonehenge for a few minutes. We had heard that when the Empress was a girl, her governess would place her in front of a circle of chairs, and make her go round and address a polite remark to each. We recognised the utility of the practice as Her Majesty made a neat little sentence to each of the circle seated before her this evening. Sir Edward and Lady Ermyntrude went home early, as they were in mourning, but when we tried to go in to supper with the Embassy Staff, we were seized on by Count Eulenberg and told to go into the royal supper- room. The Crown Prince and Princess came and talked to us very kindly, but I could not help thinking the latter rather indiscreet, as when I made a futile remark as to the fine sight presented by the Palace she returned, " A finer sight at Buckingham Palace," then, lowering her voice, " and prettier faces ! " True enough, but a little risky addressed to a stranger with possible eavesdroppers. The old Emperor William was not at this ball, as he was not well enough — which distressed him, as he liked society ; but two days later we were invited to a small concert at his own Palace, When we had made our curtsies to the Empress she desired that we should go round and be presented to His Majesty. I had been told previously that he was interested in the idea of seeing me, as he had been a great friend of my grand- 8 lA" 102 BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. v mother Westminster and they used to interchange presents on their birthdays. When we were taken up to him Grafin Perponcher reminded him of Jersey's grandmother and Lady Clementina Villiers, but he immediately asked if I were not also related to Lady Westminster. When I said that I was her grand- daughter he asked, " Et etes-vous tou jours en relation avec elle ? " and on hearing that I wrote to her charged me with messages which she was afterwards very pleased to receive. During the singing we sat round little tables covered with red velvet table-covers, which seemed a funny arrangement, as it meant that some of the audience had their backs to the performers. There were five which — joining each other — ran down the centre of the room. The Empress sat at the head of the end one, and the Crown Princess presided at a round one in the middle of the room, at which Lady Galloway and I were seated. Princess Victoria (afterwards Schaumburg Lippe) sat between us — we found her lively, though not pretty. When the performance was over the Emperor came and talked to us again ; he seemed very cheerful, though he put his hand on the back of a chair for, as he said, " un petit appui " ! I told him that I had been with the crowd to see him when he looked out at the soldiers as he did every morning. ** Quoi, Madame, vous avez fait la curieuse ? " he said, and proceeded to tell us that he was now " devenu la mode," though formerly | no one came to look at him. Finally some supper was brought and put on the tables where we had been sitting. The following day we were invited to breakfast (or rather 12.30 luncheon) with the Crown Prince and Princess — only their three unmarried daughters besides Lady Galloway, Lady Isabel, and myself. The Crown THE CROWN PRINCE FREDERICK 103 Priiice was a most fascinating man and particularly impressed us by his devotion to his wife, having even consulted a lady dentist by her desire ! The three Princesses each had in front of her place at table a large collection of little silver objects given them on their respective birthdays. The parents again reverted to my grandmother, and on hearing of her inmiense number of children and grandchildren the Prince re- marked, " What a number of birthday presents that must mean ! " — which amused me, as with all grand- mamma's kindness to me personally, she was far from troubling about the identity of all her grandchildren — life would not have been long enough. The Princess talked much of the hospitals at Berlin, and of her trouble in introducing anything like decent nursing into them. She said when she first married a Children's Ward would be shut up at night without any nurse whatever in charge, and several children found dead in the morning. I believe she did great things for the hospitals, but fear that discretion was not always the better part of her valour, and that she more than once gave ofEence by comparison with the superior method in England. xVfter luncheon the Princesses departed and the parents took us through their own rooms, which were very pretty and comfortable. When we reached her Studio the Crown Princess did not want to take us in, as she said she must gooff to see Princess William (the late ex-Kaiserin), but the Prince said, " You go, I shall take them " — for he was determined that we should see, and duly admire, his wife's artistic talents. We saw the Crown Princess again in the evening at the theatre, as she sent for Lady Galloway and me into her box and j)ut Mary through a searching catechism about liussia. 104 BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. t Saturday 26th till the following Tuesday we spent at Dresden, which we greatly admired. We saw the Galleries and Museums, and attended a Wagner opera — Siegfried ; but I need not record sights and sentiments shared with so many other travellers. I had some experience at Dresden of the dangers of " Verboten." I ventured out for a short time alone and felt the risk of being arrested at least twice — once for walking on the wrong side of the bridge, once for standing in the wrong place in the principal church. I committed a third crime, but forget its nature. Two evenings after our return to Berlin we were invited to another royal concert, and on this occasion I sat at Prince William's table quite unconscious that he would be hereafter England's greatest foe ! What impressed me most about him was the way in which he asked questions. Someone told him that I held a position in the Primrose League, and he at once wanted to know all about it. The impression left on my mind was that he thought that it brought women too promi- nently forward. Next day we visited the various palaces at Potsdam — the Crown Princess had kindly sent word to her gardener Mr. Walker, to meet us, and he proved an amiable and efficient guide. At the Stadt Schloss Frederick the Great's bedroom, with a silver balustrade, was being prepared for the baptism of Prince William's fourth son. We had been warned at the Embassy that this expedition would be one of difficulty if not of danger, but we accomplished all successfully save our return from the Wild Park Station at Berlin. Of course this was before the days of motors, so our journey to and from Potsdam was by train, and somehow we missed the Embassy carriage at the station. Innocently we PRINCE BISMARCK 105 took a fly, but at the Embassy it was discovered that this was a second-class fly. which was considered a most disreputable proceeding. We had not known the various categories of Berlin vehicles. We had one real piece of good fortune, due to Herbert Bismarck, whom we had known in England and met several times at Berlin. His father had not been present at the opening of the Reichstag which we attended, so we had asked Herbert if he were likely to speak on any following day, for we were anxious to see him and he did not often appear at entertainments or such-like gatherings. Herbert promised to let us know, but he did better, for he coached his mother what to do should we call, and Lady Ermyntrude took us to see the Princess on Saturday afternoon. Princess Bismarck was most graci- ous, said Herbert had asked every day if we had called ; he was devoted to England and to his collection of photographs of English ladies, which he expected her to distinguish one from the other. Her sister, Countess Arnim, was also in the room. When we had been talking with them for a few minutes the Princess rang, and beckoned to the servant who answered to come clo.se that she might whisper. Lady Galloway overheard her say in German, " Tell the Prince that the English ladies are here.'' After a short inter- val an inner door opened slowly, and the tall form of the Chancellor appeared. We all jumped up as the Princess announced " Mon Mari." He shook hands with Lady Ermyntrude, who introduced us each in turn. Hearing that Lady Galloway was " la sonir de Lord Salisbury," he was anxious to investigate whether she resembled liini in face, but decided not very much, as " Lord Salisbury avait les traits tr^s 106 BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. v masculins and le visage plus carre/' which he empha- sised rather in action than in words. Mary had to sit on one side of him facing the light in order that he might the better make these comparisons. I was at the end of a sofa on his other hand. Lady Galloway then remarked that he had been very kind to her nephew Lord Edward Cecil, who had been in Berlin in the spring of the previous year. Curiously enough, though he had had him to dinner, he did not seem to remember him, though he perfectly recollected Lord Cranborne, who had been with his father at the time of the Congress. Being informed that Lord Edward had been abroad in order to study German, he asked, " Eh bien, a-t-il eu de succes ? " and remarked that German was a difficult language but less so for the English than for some other people, and that while the English often spoke French more fluently they grasped the German construction better as being more akin to their own. Mary agreed, saying we were of the same race, whereupon he politely thanked her for having recalled and acknowledged the fact. I then remarked that it had been suggested that he wished to change " les caracteres allemands,'' meaning the letters. He mis- understood me to mean the characters of the people, and said that he should hardly be capable of that, but added : " On m'accuse d'avoir change une nation de poetes en nation de politiques militaires, mais c'est parce que nous avons ete si longtemps Tenclume qu'il fallait le faire. II faut toujours etre I'enclume ou le marteau, maintenant nous sommes le marteau. Nous etions Tenclume jusqu'a Leipzig et Waterloo." I suggested that at Waterloo " nous etions deux mar- teaux," and he answered, bowing, " J'espere que nous les serons encore ensemble." Little did he or I look CONVERSATION WITH BISMARCK 107 on twenty-seven years ! Bismarck then asked for the P^nglish of '* enclume " — " car je ne suis pas forgeron/' and when we told him he said that he only knew " I'anglais pour voyager, le russe pour la chasse et le fran9ais pour les affaires, " and went on to speak of his son, who, as we all agreed, knew English so well. Like the Princess, he said that Count Herbert was much attached to our country, and added that if he continued to do well and ''si je peux guider sa destinee j'ai I'intention qu'il aillc quelque jour en Angleterre " : meantime he thought that Count Hatzfeldt was getting on all right. Lady Galloway said that he was very popular. Bismarck considered that he did better as Ambassador than in affairs at home, as though he could work well he lacked the power of sticking to his work. I then referred to Mr. Deichmann, a country neighbour of ours who had built a house near Bicester and married a Miss de Bunsen, widow of another German, who had been his friend. Mr. (afterwards Baron) Deichmann and his wife were undoubtedly friends (or henchmen ?) of the Bismarcks, and Mr. Deichmann was very proud of a tankard which the Prince had given him. " He gave me a very good horse," returned the Prince, when I mentioned this, and described him as " bon enfant.'' In the light of after experience I feel sure that the Dcichmanns were employed to report to the Prince on social matters in England and particularly in diplomatic circles. I do not at all mean that they were anti- English, but that they were " utilised." They were very intimate friends of the Miinsters, and somehow kept in with the Crown Princess and her family, althou^di the JVincess certainly did not love Bismarck ! I well recollect a dinner which (in years later tliiin that of our interview with the great in.in) the J.)eichmanns gave 108 BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. v at their house in London to reconcile the French and German Embassies. What had been the exact cause of friction I do not know, but the ostensible one was that the then Ambassadress, Madame Waddington, had not worn mourning when some German princelet died. Anyhow, Madame Deichmann had Madame Wadding- ton to dinner, and Marie Miinster to a party afterwards, and they were made to shake hands and be friends. It was clever of Madame Deichmann, and she well deserved the title of Baroness afterwards conferred upon her. However, I am not altogether sure that Bismarck appreciated the reference to his friends on this occasion — he may not have wished to be thought too intimate ! He did not resent it though, and when we rose to take leave gave Lady Galloway many messages for Lord Salisbury, hoping to see him again in Germany or when he, Bismarck, came to England, which he seemed to regard as quite on the cards. He also asked Lady Ermyntrude affectionately after Sir Edward, whom he thought looking rather unwell when he last saw him, though quite himself again when he became excited. Just as we were going away the Prince asked if we would like to see the room where the Congress had been held. Of course we were delighted, so that he took us in and showed us where they all sat. Lord Beaconsfield on his right hand, and Lord Salisbury, as he particularly pointed out to Lady Galloway, just round the corner. Then Gortschakofi, who, he said, did not take much part, next Schouvaloff, on whom the work fell, but he added in English, '' Lord Salisbury squeezed him." And there, he said, pointing to the other side of the table, " sat the victim of the Congress, the Turk.'" So little impression had the victim made BISMARCK AND LORD SALISBURY 109 upon him that he could not even remember his name — he thought, however, that it was Mehemet — Mehemet something — at last Princess Bismarck helped him out — Mehemet Ali. I believe the head Turk was Kara- theodori Pasha, but presume that he was a nonentity ; at all events neither Prince nor Princess Bismarck referred to him. Bismarck rather apologised for the bareness of the room, a fine, large, long apartment, and wished that he were equal to giving balls in it — this, with Emperor William's desire to go to balls, gave a cheerful impression of these old men. Little did we then realise what our feelings with regard to Germany would be twenty-seven years later ! Though I feel ashamed now of the impression made upon me by Prince Bismarck, I cannot help recording that I was foolish enough to write some verses com- paring him to Thor, the Scandinavian war-god, with his hammer and anvil, and to add them to my account of our interview. After our return to England Lord Salisbury told Lady Galloway that he should like to see this account, and when I met him again he said to me with great amuse- ment, " So you have seen Thor ? Prince Bismarck had an undoubted admiration for Lord Salisbury. Not long after Sir Edward Malet's appointment to Berlin poor Lady Ermyntrude had a child who did not survive its birth. She was very ill. Some little time afterwards her father, the Duke of Bedford, told me that she had been very anxious to come over to England to be with her parents for her confine- ment. This was arranged, and then Sir Edward, anxious about her health, wanted to join her. He did not know whether he could rightfully leave his dip- lomatic duties, but Bismarck reassured him, telling no BERLIN AND THE JUBILEE OF 1887 [ch. v him that so long as Lord Salisbury was in power he need have no apprehension as to the relations between England and the German Empire. I confess also to having been fascinated by the Crown Prince — afterwards the Emperor Frederick ; but he was not in the least like a Prussian — he was like a very gentle knight. Poor man ! He had already begun to suffer from the fatal malady to his throat. The last time I spoke with him he came into the box in which we were sitting at the theatre and said, " I cannot talk to you much, my throat is so bad.'* The next event which made a great impression on me in common with every other subject of the British Empire was the first Jubilee of Queen Victoria. Its excitements, its glories, have been told over and over again, but no one who did not live through it can grasp the thrill which ran from end to end of the nation, and no one who did live through it can pass it on to others. The Queen became a tradition while yet alive. When ten thousand children from the elementary schools were entertained in Hyde Park the proceedings con- cluded by the release of a balloon bearing the word " Victoria." As it ascended one child was heard gravely explaining to another that " that was the Queen going up to Heaven." A man (or woman) wrote to the paper that in the evening he had observed that the sunset colours had formed themselves into a distinct arrange- ment of red, white, and blue ! I chanced the week before the Jubilee celebrations to express to a girl in a shop a hope for fine weather. In a tone of rebuke she replied, " Of course it will be fine : it is for the Queen ! " — a sentiment more poetically expressed by the French Ambassador Baron de Courcel, who said to me on one rather doubtful day in the week preceding THANKSGIVING SERVICE 111 the Diamond Jubilee, '' Le bon Dieu ncttoie les cieux pour la Reiue ! " This confidence was fully justified : the weather was glorious. When traffic was stopped in the main thoroughfares, and all streets and houses had their usual dinginess hidden in glowing decorations, London looked like a fairy city — a fitting regal back- ground for an imperial apotheosis — only perchance excelletl by the Diamond Jubilee ten years later. " Mother's come home/' I heard a stalwart policeman say on the day when the Queen arrived in Buckingham Palace. That was just it — Mother had come back to her joyous children. The Dowager Lady Amp thill, one of her ladies-in- waiting, recounted an incident which I do not think appeared in any of the papers. When the royal train was coming down from Scotland Lady Ampthill awoke in the early summer dawn, and looked out of the carriage in which she had been sleeping. The world was not yet awake, but as the train rushed through the country amongst fields and meadows she was astonished to see numbers of men and women standing apparently silently gazing — simply waiting to see the passing of the Great Queen to her Jubilee. Perhaps the climax was the Thanksgiving Service in Westminster Abbey. I cannot refrain from inserting here my mother's lines describing the final scene on that occasion : " It WM an hour of triumph, for n nation Had gathered round the Monarch of their pride ; All that a people held of gri>at or lovely, The wiac, the world-renownod, Btood side by side. " I>and« famed in story sent their Kinf^ and chieftains, IhleH scarcely rocke