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LIFE 
 
 ROSINA, LADY LYTTON. 
 

LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 RosiNA, Lady Lytton. 
 
 NUMEROUS EXTRACTS FROM HER MS. AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND 
 OTHER ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS, 
 
 PUBLISHED IN VINDICATION OF HER MEMORY. 
 
 LOUISA DEVEY, 
 
 Literary Executrix to t/ic Dowager Lady Lytton. 
 
 "la verita e figlia del tempo." 
 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 SWAN SONNENSCHEIN, LOWREY & CO., 
 
 PATERNOSTER SQUARE. 
 
 18S7. 
 
PRINTED U\ 
 HAZELL, WATSON, AND VINEY, LD.. 
 LONDON AND AYLESBURY. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 — ♦ — 
 
 In presenting to the public these somewhat 
 fragmentary and imperfect Reminiscences, it is 
 necessary that I should enter upon a brief explana- 
 tion of the reasons for my decision to publish a 
 volume which purists may consider a scandal, and 
 Gallios a superfluity. In 1884 I was responsible 
 for the publication of some three hundred letters 
 of the late Lord Lytton to his wife, which I 
 hoped would both aid in enabling the world to 
 form a more accurate judgment of the private 
 character of his lordship than had hitherto been 
 obtainable, and also in clearing the reputation of 
 his unhappy wife, whom I have the best possible 
 reasons for asserting to have been a greatly 
 maligned and misunderstood woman. 
 
 But Lord Lytton's son was of a very different 
 opinion, and he obtained an injunction against 
 me restraining their publication. He acted within 
 his rights ; and, having been adjudged at fault 
 by a court of law, it does not beseem me to 
 impugn the justice of its decision, although I 
 must ever bitterly regret such a result. But 
 I cannot help pointing out the remarkable in- 
 
 282928 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 consistency of the present Earl in the course he 
 thought fit to adopt. For reasons, and doubtless 
 very excellent reasons, of his own, he had always 
 taken his father's part in the deplorable quarrels 
 between his parents. He accordingly published a 
 biography of Lord Lytton, in which he had every 
 opportunity of laying his own case before the 
 public. In this biography he claims to have given 
 "from the only authentic record" all the circum- 
 stances relating to his parents' marriage, and states 
 that his father's *' own letters will now enable all 
 candid persons to judge for themselves whether 
 the writer of them could have been capable of the 
 brutality, the cruelty, the meanness and selfishness 
 attributed to him." But while I do not question 
 the authenticity of the letters which the Earl quotes, 
 I am at least entitled to claim equal value for 
 those which I possess, written by his father's own 
 hand; and it is only fair to the "candid persons" 
 appealed to for judgment to allow them to inspect 
 the whole of Lord Lytton's correspondence, and 
 not merely a carefully selected portion. Was it 
 not natural, therefore, that I should accept the 
 challenge, made, as I supposed, in all good faith, 
 and endeavour to publish the whole correspond- 
 ence ? For had I kept silence I might have 
 been accused of casting a slur upon the memory 
 of Lady Lytton, by shrinking, in order to screen 
 her character, from daring to bring forth the 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 whole truth; and thus I might justly have been 
 called a moral coward and a false friend. 
 
 Moreover, it is necessary to bear in mind, as a 
 criterion of the chances the present Earl enjoyed of 
 forming a true estimate of his mother's character, 
 the fact that, except during four months in 1858, 
 he never saw her from 1838 down to the day 
 of her death. The biographer also printed several 
 letters written by his mother, which I, as that 
 lady's executrix, had a perfect right to restrain 
 him from publishing. I did not do so because I 
 hoped to be allowed with impunity to publish 
 Lord Lytton's own letters, merely by way of show- 
 ing that there are two sides to every question, and 
 also by way of vindicating his wife's memory. If 
 these letters were a condemnation of Lord Lytton's 
 behaviour, the censure, if any, proceeded out of 
 his own mouth, and not out of mine. 
 
 But the Earl, being determined that one view, 
 and one view only, of his father's character 
 should be presented to the world, set in motion 
 the machinery of the law to stifle my humble pro- 
 test, and still threatens me with its terrors. He 
 claims, therefore, for his father an exemption from 
 criticism which few public men have either 
 attained or desired. Even Bulwer himself was 
 no advocate of the nil de mortuis nisi do7tum 
 system of compiling biographies ; the inner life 
 of Byron has been mercilessly dissected, the 
 
VIU PREFACE. 
 
 foibles of Carlyle have been unsparingly exposed, 
 the love-letters of Keats have been recently sold 
 by auction ; but of Edward Bulwer, novelist, poet, 
 dramatist, and statesman, we are forbidden to 
 know anything beyond what a dutiful son chooses 
 with true filial discretion to impart to us. But I 
 can plead another and a stronger motive for my 
 so-called indiscretion. During the last years of the 
 Dowager Lady Lytton's life I was her constant, I 
 may almost say her sole, companion, and one of her 
 very few remaining friends. It was her dearest 
 hope that one day some attempt would be made 
 to clear her reputation from the harsh judgment 
 that had been pronounced upon it ; and I have in 
 conversation frequently noticed her extreme anxiety 
 that these letters and other papers which she 
 had so long and so carefully preserved should 
 be published after her decease. 
 
 She made me her executrix, and left to me the 
 whole of her papers, with the strict charge that on 
 no pretext, " however plausible and apparently 
 truthful," should they be permitted to pass into the 
 hands of the Lytton family. I should therefore 
 have been guilty of a treachery towards my dead 
 friend of which I hope I am incapable, had I not 
 made an effort to vindicate her memory from the 
 slanders which have blackened it so long. This 
 effort having failed, there still remained to me the 
 alternative of constructing out of the other materials 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 at my disposal a short record of the Hfe of this 
 much-wronged woman ; and this course I have 
 thought fit to adopt, being compelled to brave the 
 anger of the living out of respect and love for the 
 memory of the dead, as well as regard for the 
 cause of justice and truth. 
 
 This being the case, I can emphatically deny that 
 I am actuated by a wish to pander to morbid 
 curiosity, or to gain notoriety. The task before 
 me I regard as a sacred trust, which I am bound 
 to fulfil to the best of my poor ability. 
 
 In compiling this biography it is inevitable that 
 in many important points I should differ very 
 materially from the version given by the present, 
 Earl of the relations between his parents both 
 before and after marriage. This, as I have 
 already indicated, arises partly from the son's 
 ignorance of his mother's character, and partly 
 from his having thrown in his lot with his father, 
 and having formed his judgment solely from the 
 latter's point of view. Thus, if Lord Lytton had 
 known, as I know, that Miss Wheeler refused 
 Mr. Bulwer no less than three times before she 
 finally yielded to his solicitations, on the assurance 
 of Mrs. Lytton's consent to the union, he could 
 hardly have been responsible for such a statement 
 as the following : "[Mr. Bulwer] would probably 
 have been weaned from encouraging hopes and 
 wishes associated with Miss Wheeler, had he 
 
X I'REFACE. 
 
 received from her a distinct assurance that she 
 was resolved not to marry him without his 
 mother's consent. No such announcement came 
 in aid of his struggle." Neither, if he had been 
 fully acquainted with the manner in which his 
 father ill-treated, neglected, and deceived his wife, 
 would he have passed upon him so indiscriminate 
 an eulogy as that " his errors were the errors of 
 a good man, and his virtues those of a great 
 one." 
 
 But this is not the place wherein to comment 
 upon Lord Lytton's well-meaning endeavours to 
 canonise his father. The discrepancies between the 
 two versions will, I trust, be made sufficiently clear 
 hereafter. My readers will doubtless be enabled 
 to form their own opinions ; and, I venture to 
 say, will do so with a much better chance of 
 arriving at the truth than would be attainable 
 from a study of the Life alone. Even if, like 
 Professor Goldwin Smith, they come to the 
 melancholy conclusion that the late Lord Lytton 
 was a "literary hypocrite," that is not a con- 
 sideration which can deter me from the perform- 
 ance of a plain duty, for I submit that the 
 vindication of an injured woman's memory is 
 sufficiently imperative to justify the unmasking 
 of the faults of a deceased novelist, great man 
 though he may have been. 
 
 I have endeavoured to state the case of the late 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 Lady Lytton as fairly and impartially as lies in my 
 power, but I must claim the indulgence of my 
 readers if my knowledge of the persecutions she 
 endured has occasionally carried me across the 
 boundary which separates judicial statement from 
 special pleading. This much, at all events, I will 
 frankly admit : that Lady Lytton, being a warm- 
 hearted, impulsive woman, with strong passions 
 and a generous, sensitive nature, was driven by 
 outrage and insult into a course of action which 
 none can hesitate to condemn. But what I 
 wish to show is that she was not the aggressor, 
 but for many years the patient victim of 
 undeserved oppression, before at length her woes 
 found vent in bitter and passionate vehemence. 
 At thirty-four she was left to battle with the 
 world alone ; her children were taken from her ; 
 her existence was rendered miserable by the 
 calumnies of society, and the callous indifference 
 of those whose duty it was to protect her ; and 
 at the very zenith of her husband's fame, she, 
 who should have graced his triumph, was im- 
 mured by his orders in a private madhouse. 
 
 While he was rejoicing in the fulness of earthly 
 prosperity and success, rich, courted, overwhelmed 
 with honours, and sated with adulation, she, once 
 a noted beauty and wit, who had nobly for nine 
 long and weary years borne the burden and heat 
 of the day, slaved for him and for her children. 
 
Xll PREFACE. 
 
 endured the trials and hardships of the life of "a 
 struggling author, unmurmuring, faithful and con- 
 tent, rewarded only by insult and violence, was con- 
 demned to live the life of a hated and despised 
 outlaw, to eat her heart out in poverty, solitude, 
 and neglect. Few women, assuredly, would have 
 emerged from such an ordeal as pure and uncon- 
 taminated as Lady Lytton. 
 
 Can we, then, wonder that even her fortitude 
 broke down under so grievous an accumulation 
 of wrongs, or that she wrote in her despair, 
 " Had an angel op'd the book of Providence and 
 let me read my fate, my heart had broke when I 
 beheld the sum of ills which one by one I have 
 endured " ? 
 
 LOUISA DEVEY. 
 
 MoNTRESOR, Upper Norwood. 
 
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CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGES 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL I — 12 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 CHILDHOOD AT GUERNSEY I3— 28 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 RETURN TO ENGLAND 29 — 38 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 FIRST MEETING OF ROSINA WHEELER WITH EDWARD 
 LYTTON BULWER AND HIS MOTHER AT MISS 
 BENGER'S, 1825 — "L. E. L."— PARTY AT MRS. 
 
 lytton's 39 — 66 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 COURTSHIP AND EARLY MARRIED LIFE . . . 67 — 76 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 VISIT TO NAPLES — DEPOSITION OF THE MAID BYRNE . "J"] — 9 1 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 LIFE AT BERRYMEAD PRIORY. . . 92 — IO9 
 
xiv CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 lAGES 
 
 FINAL QUARREL AND SEPARATION, 1836 . . . IIO— 123 
 
 CHAI'TER IX. 
 MRS. BULWER'S POSITION — SHE GOES TO IRELAND 
 IN 1836 — HER CHILDREN TAKEN AWAY IN 1838 — 
 LIFE AT BATH 124 — 137 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 LITERARY WORK — LETTERS FROM FRIENDS . . . 1 38 — 158 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LADY P.ULAVER AT PARIS— LIBELS IN THE " MORNING 
 
 POST" AND THE "COURT JOURNAL" . . . 159 — 168 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 CONSPIRACY TO SEIZE LADY BULAYER'S PAPERS . . 169— 182 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 ACTION AGAINST LAWSON AND THACKERAY. . . 183 — 204 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 LADY LYTTON AT FLORENCE AND GENEYA — BAD 
 
 NEAYS 205 — 219 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 REVOLUTION IN GENEYA 220 — 226 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 RLTUKN TO ENGLAND — EFFORTS TO OBTAIN A 
 
 SETTLEMENT 227—237 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XV 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 1 AGES 
 
 ILLNESS AND DEATH OF EMILY BULWER LYTTON . 238—253 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 CONTINUED PERSECUTION — LETTERS TO DR. PRICE . 234 — 269 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 SPIES AT TAUNTON — A BOGUS ACTION . 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 LADY LYTTON AT THE HERTFORD ELECTION 
 
 282 — 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LADY LYTTON ENTRAPPED INTO AN ASYLUM . . 296— 308 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 RELEASE OF LADY LYTTON— OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 309 — 33 I 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 LADY LYTTON IN FRANCE — HER RETURN TO 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 332—339 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 SIR EDWARD'S LETTERS — LADY LYTTOX'S EMBARRASSED 
 CONDITION OWING TO THE NON-PAYMENT OF HER 
 DEBTS 340—354 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CONTINUED STRUGGLES 
 
 355—370 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 I'AGES 
 
 FAILURE OF VARIOUS SCHEMES FOR RELIEF— DR. 
 
 KENEALY 371 — 381 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 "A P.LIGHTED LIFE" — CONCLUSION .... 382 — 39O 
 
 APPENDIX ....... . 393—428 
 
 INDEX 429—432 
 
LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL. 
 
 " I'll speak of them as they are, 
 Nothing extenuate nor set down aught in malice." 
 
 " The first mistake I made was being born at all, 
 though, like most of the serious errors that may be 
 laid at my door through life, I had no choice and 
 little part in the matter. But nevertheless it was 
 a double mistake, for I certainly did not want to 
 come into the world, neither did it appear that 
 I was wanted in it, at least so far as my father was 
 concerned, who, having already four ciphers in the 
 shape of daughters, was very anxious for a figure 
 in the shape of a son.* 
 
 "And I've heard my mother say that when, at 
 ten o'clock of a dreary, drizzling November morn- 
 ing, on the 2nd of that month, 1S02, I was born 
 at Ballywire, my father's place near Limerick, f 
 
 * A son was afterwards born, but died in childhood ; and two 
 daughters died in infancy, only Henrietta and Rosina surviving. 
 
 t Which, as he himself said, not having a son, he sold to his 
 uncle, the Hon. John Massy. It is now (1S69) in the possession 
 of my cousin, Mr. Bolton Massy. 
 
 I 
 

 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 the whole household being aware that he had 
 commanded a son, were afraid to announce to him 
 the mistake. Mrs. Gifford, the nurse, positively re- 
 fusing to do so, my aunt Bessie, my mother's maiden 
 sister, undertook to be charge d'ajfaires on the 
 occasion, and announced the disagreeable tidings. 
 She did so ; and, the family archives set forth, met 
 with so discourteous a reception that she hastily 
 quitted the breakfast-room, muttering, ' Well, we 
 can't strangle the poor little thing ; since it has 
 pleased God to send it, it must live.' 
 
 " Kindly meant, this, on the part of my poor aunt ; 
 but had I had a voice for anything but screaming 
 at that time, and had I been consulted on the subject, 
 I should have decidedly made the same reply that 
 the French judge did to the thief, who said in 
 extenuation of his misdeeds, ' Dame, Monsieur, il 
 faut vivre,' — ' Je ne vois pas la necessite.' Indeed, it 
 would have been far kinder of my poor aunt, had 
 she, in the many caresses she bestowed upon me, 
 given me one mortal squeeze, and so have prevented 
 my living, to add another incontrovertible illustra- 
 tion to that most profound of axioms, that ' wrono- 
 never comes right,' — for truly 
 
 * My weary way to heaven has been one stormy day I ' 
 
 "My father, Francis Massy Wheeler, was the eldest 
 or rather the only son of Hugh Trevor Wheeler, of 
 Ballywire, County Limerick, by his wife Charlotte, 
 daughter of Hugh, second Lord Massy of Her- 
 mitage, in the same county. My mother was the 
 youngest daughter of Archdeacon Doyle by his wife 
 Anna Dunbar. Next to that most ill-fated thinsz 
 
MRS. WHEELER. 3 
 
 a great heiress, my mother was that peril-begirt 
 target, a great beauty and a portionless one. I don't 
 think she much valued her beauty ; those who really 
 possess 
 
 ' II dono fatale di belezza ' 
 
 seldom do ; but what she was justly proud of was 
 that Henry Grattan had been her godfather." 
 
 As regards her personal appearance, Mrs. Wheeler 
 was, according to her daughter, " very tall, with one 
 of those skins and complexions which look like snow 
 with a few rose-leaves dropped upon it. Her face 
 was a perfect oval, like an ^^^ ; the forehead 
 high, straight, and white, surmounted by very silky, 
 rippling, dark chestnut hair. The eyes of a deep 
 blue-grey, almond-shaped, with dark eyelashes and 
 low straight eyebrows. The nose aquiline, but of 
 extremely fine and delicate chiselling, as was the 
 short curled upper lip of certainly, without exception 
 in art or nature, the most beautiful mouth and teeth 
 I ever saw — the former being a perfect Cupid's bow, 
 the latter small, dazzling, and even as a row of 
 Oriental pearls, beautifully arched in her head, and 
 set in gums that resembled the finest and deepest 
 shade of pink coral. This mouth had the most 
 enchanting smile I ever beheld, literally realising 
 Moore's simile of being 
 
 ' Like any fair lake that the breeze is upon, 
 When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the sun.' 
 
 " My mother's figure (though on a larger scale than 
 I admire) was as faultless as her face ; add to which 
 her hands and arms were models both as to form 
 and colour, and her feet and ankles equally good ; 
 
4 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 and, though last not least, she had that 'most ex- 
 cellent thing in woman,' 'a low, sweet voice,' — one 
 of those unmistakably refined and patrician voices, 
 which cannot by any accident belong to a vulgar, 
 and still less to a vulgar-minded person." 
 
 As a pendant to this description of Mrs. Wheeler's 
 personal attractions, it may not be amiss to give a 
 brief account of her character. From various sources 
 I gather that, besides being a beauty, she was very 
 clever, and also a woman imbued with "democratic 
 and levelling principles." The following extract 
 from a letter written to Lady Lytton in. 1 851 may 
 help to elucidate an interesting and complex indivi- 
 duality. " I was for many years a bit of a favourite 
 with your mother. ... I had always found fault 
 with her tendency to materialism, and she often ac- 
 knowledged that faith, if one could have it, was a 
 great acquisition ; and very often, in her happier 
 moods of mind, I found her reconciled to the idea 
 of religion, and then she said that if any one could 
 make a Christian of her it would be myself. But 
 then the philosophical spirit once more prevailed, 
 and uttered eloquent invectives against everything 
 that assumed the form of religion. Then she mur- 
 mured and complained ; and I reminded her that 
 philosophy was of little value if it could not give 
 repose to the mind under affliction. . . . She was a 
 remarkable woman, and her children could scarcely 
 fail to be possessed of great talents." 
 
 " My mother's only sister, my aunt Bessie, was also 
 a beauty, but of quite a different type, being much 
 shorter, and a decided britnette, with a Grecian nose 
 and forehead, jet black hair and eyes, a pretty mouth, 
 
AN UNLUCKV MARRIAGE. 5 
 
 but rather too long, or at least too straight an upper 
 lip, except when she smiled, which was often, having 
 a brilliant set of teeth to display, though larger and 
 not of the pearl-like texture and faultless regularity 
 of my mother's. 
 
 " Beauty, under any circumstances, is perhaps a 
 fatal gift to a woman ; but flung into the world with 
 no chevaux de frise of fortune and friends (pardon 
 the tautology, since they are synonymous) to form 
 a safeguard round it, and pushed and thumped up 
 rather than brought up by a weak and passionate 
 mother, my mother, having no kind friend to pilot 
 her into the Athenian harbour, only escaped the 
 Scylla of cerulean stockings to split upon the far 
 more fatal Charybdis of an unsuitable marriage. 
 Oh those unhappy first homes ! what have they 
 not to answer for } For what a cruelly stringent 
 entail is theirs, which none but death can cut off! 
 Of course, all I know of my mother's marriage is 
 from oral tradition ; and through that I gleaned that 
 at sixteen my father, then a minor of nineteen, had 
 fallen in love with her at some races, and at a ball 
 at ' Hermitage,' the seat of his maternal uncle, Lord 
 Massy, where he was then staying. He made her 
 an offer, which she, delighted at the idea of escaping 
 from the thraldom of my grandmother's temper and 
 being mistress of a house of her own, conditionally 
 accepted, by referring him to ' mamma.' But, what- 
 ever my grandmother's failings may have been, she 
 was not so weak as not to have a proper terror of 
 such a mere boy and girl, who knew little or nothing 
 of each other, entering into such an indissoluble 
 and always hazardous engagement, more especially 
 
6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 as my father laboured under several serious dis- 
 advantages. First, he had been for the first sixteen 
 years of his life an only son and a spoilt child, and 
 for the last three an orphan and his own master. 
 Then he was heir to an estate which, like all Irish 
 estates, was three times greater nominally than it 
 was in reality. All these combined circumstances 
 made my grandmother ponder, and then tremble 
 in her high-heeled shoes. So she bethought her 
 that, as honours well and hardly earned were now 
 flowing in upon her dead husband's brother. Sir 
 John Doyle, she would write to him, and surely he 
 would at least advise her. The Egyptian war, to 
 which poor Sir Ralph Abercromby had fallen a 
 sacrifice, had just ended, but his dear friend and 
 protege, my dear grand-uncle, had returned to reap 
 the laurels which his own and so much more noble 
 blood had irrigated. And so he received the thanks 
 of both Houses of Parliament and the freedoms of 
 the cities of London and Dublin, was moreover 
 created a baronet, and received the Grand Cross of 
 the Bath, and was at that time Secretary-at-War. 
 This from first to last kind uncle wrote back word 
 on no account to let ' the child ' be sacrificed by 
 sealing her fate, till she had seen something of the 
 world and of other men, and could from comparison 
 form some fixed standard of her own feelings and 
 tastes ; and in order that she might do so, he would 
 the following spring take his two beautiful nieces 
 to live with him in London, and give them all the 
 advantages and opportunities of mixing in ' the best 
 society,' as our haute voice is erroneously called. 
 But whether this truly kind proposition my grand- 
 
AN UNLUCKY MARRIAGE. 7 
 
 mother stuck upon one of her sharpest arrows, barbed 
 with innuendoes and animadversions of her daughter's 
 penniless and dependent state, further steeped in the 
 gall of that extorted gratitude that elects to do away 
 with all choice, and fired it off incontinently from 
 her cross-bow, or whether the 'c/ie sara, sara is always 
 to be exemplified by the Aryan simile of the Hito- 
 padesh, which asserts that a chariot moves upon two 
 wheels, and a life moves also upon free will and fate, 
 I know not. But certain it is that my mother forth- 
 with raised the standard of rebellion, and announced 
 her determination of accepting my father's offer 
 instmiter, vehemently disclaiming all wish to live 
 upon the charity of any of her relations. And thus 
 the * free will ' wheel giving the false impetus to 
 the vehicle of our lives, as is so often the case, and 
 having thereby pushed the wheel of fate out of its 
 proper groove, left it to bear all the brunt and blame 
 of the capsize. 
 
 " My mother, it is true, urged that it was acting 
 ungratefully by their good uncle, but she was soon 
 talked down by her sister. It is needless, perhaps, 
 after this to state that this ill-assorted marriage was 
 none of the happiest, and the quarrels of the sisters 
 drove my father out of the house, and more than 
 ever into the trammels of his designing uncle and 
 guardian, who moulded him to his purposes by an 
 unlimited supply of ready money, claret, and fox- 
 hunting, in order to obtain some of his property, in 
 which he eventually but too well succeeded. Often 
 was I the innocent cause of strife between the sisters, 
 through my childish restlessness or importunities, 
 when my mother would be stretched on one sofa, 
 
8 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 deep in the perusal of some French or German 
 philosophical work that had reached her translated 
 via London (and who was unfortunately deeply 
 imbued with the pernicious fallacies of the French 
 revolution, which had then more or less seared their 
 trace through Europe, and who was besides strongly 
 tainted by the corresponding poison of Mrs. Wol- 
 stonecraft's book), and my aunt Bessie, reclining on 
 another couch, was dropping a silent tear over the 
 delicate distresses of some Minerva Press heroine. 
 I, who, having in vain, by means of paper and pins, 
 and the back of my spelling-book for a drawing 
 board, tried to lithograph one of the large geranium 
 leaves that stood boldly out on the light yellow- 
 grounded chintz of the drawing-room curtains, and 
 as vainly tried to seduce the ever good and obedient 
 Henrietta from her book or work into making a 
 noise, would then proceed, slate in hand, and kneeling 
 down before one of the high, hard, gilt and painted 
 cane-bottomed arm-chairs, would make a daring 
 attempt to copy some of the wreaths of very scarla- 
 tina roses and cholera-morbus-looking forget-me- 
 nots that meandered along the back of it. But 
 being no genius, I only succeeded in making a most 
 atrocious squeaking of the pencil against the slate, 
 which would so irritate my poor mother's philo- 
 sophical nerves that I generally received so strong 
 a rebuke that it sent me screaming in such a manner 
 as must have given a convincing proof, had any 
 such been wanting, that the lungs of the Doyles 
 (always so celebrated) had not degenerated. Then 
 would my aunt Bessie, deserting her heroine, fly to 
 the rescue, exclaiming, ' You ought to be ashamed 
 
HOME LIFE. 
 
 of yourself, Anna, with your philosophy and your 
 nonsense, to treat the poor darling child so. Come 
 here, Rosie, my darling, and Aunt Bessie will give 
 her a peach, and we'll go to the hothouse for it.' 
 But at these offers of pacification I only screamed 
 the louder, and rushed unappeasably out of the 
 room, as I had seen Aunt Bessie herself do under 
 similar aggravating offers of atonement on the part 
 of my mother or father ; and if in my flight I chanced 
 to fall in with the latter, he'd catch me up in his 
 arms, and muttering something, would say, ' What's 
 the matter, Rosie my darling ? What have they been 
 teasing papa's fairy about ? ' And when, as soon 
 as I could speak, from the big stag-like tears rolling 
 like a cataract into my mouth, I had sobbed out 
 an explanation of the affray, he would judiciously 
 tell me not to mind them, but run back and just put 
 my head in at the drawing-room door and say, ' Ah ! 
 I don't care, for papa is going to take me out to 
 ride before him on Dare-Devil, and he says I shall 
 sit up all night if I like, and have as much cake as 
 I can eat.' 
 
 " Such was the auspicious commencement of my 
 education. I remember little of my father, except 
 that he was old-looking for so very young a man, 
 for he was not then more than nine-and-twenty. 
 I was too young to remark, or rather to wonder, 
 why his hand trembled so violently of a morning, — 
 for I did remark it, or I should not now recollect it 
 so vividly ; but all I felt then was that for the few 
 brief moments I ever saw him daily that hand was 
 laid kindly on my head, and therefore I thought 
 I belonsfed to it, and it to me, and so I loved it. 
 
lO LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 For my mother evinced a decided preference for 
 my sister Henrietta, and I soon became that most 
 miserable of created beings, the neglected sister of 
 a favourite and favoured child. Not that I envied 
 Henrietta for being loved, indulged, and privileged 
 on all occasions ; for it was impossible not to love 
 one so gentle, so gifted, and so good. I thought 
 it was a matter of course that every one must do so. 
 Still I did long for a little of my mother's love. 
 
 " Ballywire — for so was the home of my fathers 
 called at the time I allude to — was nothing more 
 than a long, straggling pile of white or rather grey 
 buildings, standing upon an eminence on that wildest 
 and most romantic of all coasts, the western coast 
 of Ireland. It had been a castle once upon a time, 
 but all that remained of its architectural honours to 
 entitle it to the appellation was one solitary turret, 
 in which was situated our nursery ; and as it over- 
 looked the sea, poor Henrietta and I did not fail 
 to be threatened with mermaids and sirens, ever 
 on the watch to take us away if we were naughty — 
 or as Nelly, our Irish nurse, more tersely expressed 
 it, 'if we'd be bould.' The entrance-hall at Bally- 
 wire was still paved with grey marble, but broken 
 and indented ; around its walls were hung the colossal 
 horns of the Irish elk, and upon a huge granite slab, 
 which looked more like a Druidical table than an 
 altar, lay a stringless Irish harp, purporting, by a 
 parchment legend attached to it, to have belonged 
 to the last of the bards, the celebrated Carolan ; 
 while above this table was a large but frameless 
 picture, portraying the scene at Lord Mayo's in 
 which Carolan triumphed over the musical skill of 
 
BALLYWIRE. I i 
 
 the Italian Geminiani. On the right-hand side of 
 the entrance was a large barrack of a room, still 
 dignified with the high-sounding appellation of the 
 banqueting hall, while on the left was the dining- 
 room, with its coarse scarlet moreen curtains trimmed 
 with black velvet, and black velvet plague-spots 
 bursting out about the draperies, according to the 
 prevailing epidemic among dining-room curtains 
 at the period (1812), when the war was raging, not 
 only between France and England, but against 
 everything like good taste, both in dress and furni- 
 ture. Down the centre of the room rolled a \oncr 
 
 o 
 
 dark mahogany horseshoe table, which stretched 
 forth its dinginess like an arm of the Black Sea, — 
 for French polish was unknown in those days, 
 and the green baize, bees'-wax and cork frictions 
 bestowed every morning by the butler and his 
 colleagues were neutralised by the stains of claret 
 and punch shed upon it every night. Round this 
 table were a set of ci-devant red morocco chairs, 
 but which now looked like a detachment of the 24th 
 Foot (for such was their number) marching into 
 country quarters after a protracted campaign on 
 active service, so tattered and deplorable was their 
 condition, and so dimmed their once scarlet glory. 
 At the end of the room, in an alcove supported by 
 attenuated pillars {for this room had been modernised 
 according to the most approved bad taste of the 
 times) stood a long narrow isthmus of a mahogany 
 sideboard, connecting the peninsula of two more red 
 morocco chairs ; and at either end of this piece 
 of furniture were two colossal tea-urns, doubtless 
 intended by the upholsterer as ornaments, but if 
 
12 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 SO, shamefully frustrating his intentions. The legs 
 of this mahogany nightmare were so thin and fragile 
 as to look quite incapable of supporting so unwieldy 
 a superstructure ; for, like all the furniture legs of 
 that period, whether of tables, chairs, or pianofortes, 
 they seemed to have been taken at a valuation from 
 the Spiders' Company retiring from business on their 
 own account. Over the mantelpiece, which was of 
 a plain, ugly, and much-veined piece of white marble, 
 too high for modern fashion and not high enough 
 for that of the olden time, was a picture of my father 
 going to cover on his favourite hunter. Dare- Devil, 
 with Angus Troil, the huntsman, a boy of sixty- 
 three, and all the pack round him, on the lawn 
 before Ballywire, in the very kitchen of which, un- 
 fortunately for me, the claret still flowed as of old, 
 though at that time, in most Irish houses, it had 
 given place to water, or at least to strong waters." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 CHILDHOOD AT GUERNSEY. 
 
 For various reasons, which the previous sketch of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's domestic Hfe may possibly 
 explain, Mrs. Wheeler seems to have taken the 
 resolution, in August 1812, of leaving her fox-hunting, 
 claret-drinking, but apparently amiable husband, and 
 of taking refuge with her uncle. Sir John Doyle, 
 who was then Governor of Guernsey. Accordingly, 
 " one dark and stormy night, when the wind was 
 sending forth those mysterious wailings which are 
 alternately like the low hollow moan of suppressed 
 suffering and the loud frantic shriek of insanity, 
 and when the rain was pattering against the case- 
 ment panes, which the hurricane was shaking in 
 their leaden, lozenge-shaped frames," Mrs. Wheeler, 
 accompanied by her sister, the above-mentioned 
 " Aunt Bessie," and her two children Henrietta 
 and Rosina, and escorted by her brother John, em- 
 barked in Sir John Doyle's yacht, Ocean Pearl, 
 on a voyage to Guernsey. The passage was exceed- 
 ingly stormy, the yacht struck, and the party were 
 compelled to make for Milford Haven in an open 
 boat. 
 
 The Ocean Pearl, however, though considerably 
 damaged, was eventually towed into Milford harbour 
 
14 I^IFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 by a friendly Government sloop ; and after three 
 weeks spent in repairing dilapidations, she was again 
 ready for sea, and this time succeeded in landing 
 her freight safe and sound at Guernsey. 
 
 In the times of Sir John Doyle the office of 
 Governor of Guernsey possessed a dignity and 
 importance of which after his retirement it was 
 deprived. Moreover, this worthy and distinguished 
 baronet himself did not count among his many 
 virtues the merit of economy, for he left the island at 
 least ^20,000 in debt, in consequence of his careless 
 liberality. 
 
 Without this explanation. Lady Lytton's account 
 of the splendours of Government House and of the 
 lavish generosity of her grand-uncle may appear 
 somewhat hyperbolical. 
 
 On arriving at the island they were received with 
 considerable state by Sir John Doyle and his staff, 
 while the regimental band greeted them with the 
 somewhat inappropriate air of " Lord Moira's 
 Welcome to Scotland." They then proceeded to 
 Sir John's official residence, escorted by a small 
 cavalcade of the staff. 
 
 Sir John himself is described by Lady Lytton 
 with an eminently characteristic enthusiasm. He 
 seems from first to last to have commanded her 
 unbounded admiration and love, and she always 
 speaks of him as endowed with all the virtues of 
 Sir Galahad and Colonel Newcome. He was, we 
 read, " the dearest, kindest, and most unselfish of 
 created beings, the only one whom I have ever 
 known who was really 
 
 ' In wit a man, in simi)licily a child. 
 
SIR JOHN DOVLE. 1 5 
 
 But there are natures (few and rare, it is true) so 
 loftily noble, so unsulliedly pure, so broadly generous, 
 and so incorruptibly conscientious, that to praise 
 seems almost to profane — their own deeds being alone 
 worthy to constitute their panegyric and embalm 
 their names to the latest posterity ; and such was 
 my grand-uncle Doyle. He possessed that rare 
 talent of making himself quite as agreeable to 
 children as he was to the wisest and most learned, 
 by the solidity and breadth of his mind, the playful 
 brilliancy of his wit, and the perfect encyclopedia 
 of biography and anecdote with which his own 
 extensive intercourse with men and thinofs, aided 
 by his quick tact and observation, had stored his 
 most retentive memory. To listen to his conversa- 
 tion was like living over again in an easy-chair the 
 most agreeable portion of the lives of the most 
 agreeable people, with all the angles rounded, and 
 the dross, which will alloy even the most brilliant 
 lives, sifted from them ; for he had skimmed the 
 cream of the greater portion of his distinguished 
 contemporaries, and had even seen the setting sun 
 of Burke, Goldsmith, and Johnson, whose glorious 
 rays had not rested upon him in vain. 
 
 ' For e'en as the tenderness that hour instils 
 When summer's day declines along the hills, 
 So feels the fulness of the heart and eyes 
 When all of genius that can perish dies.' 
 
 And this tenderness and fulness of heart seemed 
 to have penetrated into and hallowed his whole 
 nature, truly making to the pure all things pure ; for 
 though he had been private secretary to George \\\ 
 when Prince of Wales, and had with Sheridan often 
 
l6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 ' set the tabic in a roar,' yet had he come out of 
 this contaminating ordeal unaffected, save by the 
 perfect manners of the one and the exquisite wit 
 of the other." 
 
 Lady Lytton was evidently an ardent hero- 
 worshipper, and it would have been fortunate for 
 her had her adoration never been bestowed upon 
 less worthy objects than Sir John Doyle. But to 
 resume the . narrative. 
 
 At Government House they were received by 
 an awe-inspiring array of " powdered footmen in 
 their white liveries, blue facings, and silver shoulder- 
 knots, blue plush continuations, and immaculate 
 white silk stockings as unwrinkled as eternal youth. 
 These gentry did not produce the slightest effect 
 upon Henrietta or myself, and I doubt even if the 
 size of the house and the splendour of its appoint- 
 ments did ; but accustomed as we had been to the 
 ' most admired disorder ' of the drawing-room at 
 Bally wire, ih^ pele-mcle confusion of our own nursery, 
 and the rack-rent topsy-turvy of the whole house, 
 the intense neatness and order that now surrounded 
 us, the large, not to say elegantly furnished rooms 
 that were allotted to us, the two silent and respectful 
 English maids that waited upon us, only addressing 
 us in an under-voice, their difficultly suppressed 
 smiles when Nelly addressed them as * ma'am,' and 
 finally Mrs. Stillingfleet, the housekeeper, curtseying 
 herself into the room in all the propriety of black 
 silk and the purity of white muslin to know ' if the 
 young ladies wanted anything,' were too much for 
 our weak nerves. We felt a sort of grandeur of 
 desolation steal over us, and simultaneously bursting 
 
AT GOVERNMENT HOUSE. 1 7 
 
 into tears, we hid our faces against Nelly's arm, 
 and almost for the first time thinking of our father 
 during the excitement of the journey, we sobbed 
 out an inquiry of ' when he was to come ? ' " 
 
 After a meal of consommd a la CondS, epigramme 
 d'agizeau, and roast chicken, served upon silver plate, 
 the two children walked about the grounds, "which 
 were both beautifully laid out and beautifully situated, 
 commanding here and there through vistas of luxu- 
 riant foliage (^chappds of the dark blue sea beyond. 
 There was also a charming summer-house, fitted up 
 after the model of a Pompeian house, to which one 
 ascended by a circular exterior flight of some eighty 
 marble steps, the balustrade of which was green 
 bronze acanthus leaves, intersected with gilt Roman 
 batde-axes. The peristyle of this Bel Retiro, or 
 rather Bellas Guardos, as it was called, commanded a 
 most extensive and magnificent view of the sea. Its 
 furniture was only classical in form, for nothing could 
 exceed the luxurious comfort of the cushions and 
 squabs of its couches, and small Persian carpets 
 counteracted the chilling effects of its mosaic floor, 
 containing the obligato ' black dog ' and Cave eastern 
 in the centre. Outside each window, instead of 
 jalousies or Venetian blinds was gilded lattice-work, 
 which could be put back at pleasure. The subject 
 of the fresco on the walls was the interior of a 
 Libyan temple, with the priests and priestesses in 
 the act of celebrating the rites of Neptune, while 
 devotees were bringing cornucopias of pearl, coral, 
 and gold to lay upon the altar. The curtains of 
 this room were of Tyrian purple silk (but of the real 
 Tyrian purple, which is a deep orange-red), and they 
 
iS LIFE OF LADV I.VTTON, 
 
 were trimmed with a key border of royal purple. 
 From the centre of the room was suspended a large 
 bronze Roman galley lamp, and when lit a flame 
 issued from each oar, while in the corners of the 
 room stood bronze tripod lamps, about five feet 
 high. There was no fireplace, but in lieu of it a 
 most beautiful antique brazier." 
 
 This description is perhaps sufficient to give some 
 idea of the glories of Government House ; and as 
 "all sorts of reviews, sham-fights" — very sham they 
 must have appeared after the real ones they were 
 accustomed to at home — "races, and regattas were 
 got up in honour of my mother and aunt," while 
 Sir John entertained a series of more or less distin- 
 guished and agreeable personages, it is not perhaps 
 surprising that Mrs. Wheeler and her sister evinced 
 no disposition to return to the dreary dissipation of 
 Ballywire. Mr. Francis Wheeler seems to have 
 accepted this situation philosophically enough. He 
 declined to make his wife any allowance, remarking 
 that as she was living in such splendour she could 
 not want anything from him ; and does not seem to 
 have made any serious efforts to induce her to 
 return. A correspondence, however, was regularly 
 kept up between Guernsey and Ballywire, the task 
 of writing to her father being usually deputed to 
 Rosina, who was his favourite daughter. 
 
 Accordingly, for the next four years Mrs. Wheeler 
 and her daughters remained at Guernsey, and Rosina 
 and Henrietta were educated by a French governess 
 and a variety of masters and preceptors. 
 
 Some of Sir John Doyle's guests were personages 
 of no small importance, and it may not be amiss 
 
THE DUC DE BOUILLON. I^ 
 
 to transcribe here a few sketches of their various 
 characteristics and peculiarities as they presented 
 themselves to Miss Wheeler. The following relates 
 to the Due de Bouillon : — 
 
 " I have alluded to a very large folio edition of 
 the ' History of the French Revolution,' bound in 
 Russia, with splendid plates, which the Due de 
 Bouillon had made my uncle a present of, upon his 
 having taken it into his head to fall in love with my 
 mother. I may as well mention that circumstance 
 here, lest I should forget it ; though I never can 
 forget his kindness, or all the pretty bijouterie and 
 delicious fruit and flowers he used to send to 
 Henrietta and me, during the long siege of twelve 
 years that he laid to my mother, accompanied with 
 madrigals and epigrams at her, authenticated with 
 his well-known signature, which looked for all the 
 world like 
 
 PICCADILLY. 
 
 But considering, poor, dear old man, that he was 
 nearly as wide as Piccadilly, no wonder that his 
 name should look like it ; for at that time he 
 was, if anything, larger than his cousin, Louis 
 Dix-huit, though more like in face to the pictures 
 of Louis XVI. 
 
 " We were much annoyed, when we arrived at 
 the respectable ages of twelve and fourteen, to find 
 that our mamma had refused the offer he had so 
 dotingly made her — for he was then seventy-two. 
 We insisted strongly that if she did not love him 
 we did ; but somehow or other neither she nor he 
 seemed to consider that sufficient, even though his 
 
20 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 son, poor Philip d'Auvergne, who was afterwards 
 drowned, was also on our side. But when we arrived 
 at years of discretion — that is, when Charles X. was 
 king, and we found ourselves going to balls in Paris, 
 and properly dressed — we were still more amazed 
 that we had a mother who could have claimed a 
 tabouret a la cour as Duchesse de Bouillon (though 
 the poor Duke himself at that time was no more). 
 We thought, in those robes of white tulle and white 
 roses, that it would have been so pleasant to have 
 called the King our cousin, even by marriage ! " 
 
 To Guernsey also came the Duke of Brunswick 
 shortly before the battle of Waterloo. He brought 
 with him the German legion en route for Spain, and 
 these soldiers seem to have made a lasting impres- 
 sion on Miss Wheeler. 
 
 "The word legion conjured up to my timorous 
 imagination nothing short of a diabolical phalanx ; 
 and it was not till the dear good Duke had been 
 domiciled with us a week, and had won every heart 
 in the house, old and young, by his frank kindness 
 and unaffected amiability, especially to us children, 
 that my fears began to fade, though to the long 
 beards and still longer pipes of the legion it took 
 much more time to get used. But at last even 
 the smell of tobacco was forgiven, for the sake of 
 the exquisite harmonies with which they filled the 
 air in the stillness of the night, as they sang in parts 
 along the beach, with that perfect unity of time and 
 tune of which Germans alone are masters. Even 
 Henrietta, so good, so orthodox in all things, used 
 to get out of bed and open the window to listen 
 to them ; and of a moonlight night these concerts 
 
THE GERMAN LEGION. 21 
 
 were infinitely more delightful than any I have 
 heard since, and such is the omnipotence of music — 
 at least of such music — that it completely banished 
 my idces Napolconiennes ; it was not because they 
 were got out of it, but my head was franchised from 
 absurdity altogether. This said German legion wore 
 black velvet caps, in shape something like a chimney- 
 pot, about a quarter of an ell long, at the other end 
 of which was sewn a flat round, about the size of a 
 dinner-plate, lined either with card-board or some 
 other substantial material, and embroidered outside 
 in circles of narrow gold braid, and this round hung 
 over, not ungracefully, on the right side. 
 
 Now, it was not to be supposed that in the 
 war, when everything was military, and ladies 
 were a la lettre always in battle array, bearing 
 about in their heterogeneous costumes either some 
 reminiscence of a victory or some tribute to the 
 hero of it, a whole family could let such an 
 opportunity escape of making themselves ridiculous. 
 Accordingly, two days after the arrival of the 
 German Legion saw us, one and all, inducted into 
 black velvet Brunswick caps, in compliment to the 
 Duke. I'm not sure that even Nelly had not 
 received orders to convert the immortal brown 
 beaver into a Brunswick O'cls ; but I am very cer- 
 tain that she did not obey, not only because I heard 
 her soliloquising one morning about that time — 'A 
 pity I don't endade go convarting meself into one 
 of thim outlandish sogers at wanchet ; they'll be 
 expicting me to grow a beard next, I suppose ! 
 Thim that sows may reape, but it won't be me,' 
 — but because also for many years after the brown 
 
2 2 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 beaver, in its original form, or rather want of form, 
 continucid to ' brave the battle and the breeze ! ' " 
 
 The following may help to prove that the noble 
 art of " making up " had in the time of the war risen 
 to a pitch of perfection which it has hardly exceeded 
 even at the present day. " At eleven o'clock that 
 same night I was awakened with a gentle pinching 
 of the cheek by my aunt. Was I dreaming, or was 
 I awake ? but there she stood, not frowning and 
 angry, as I had last seen her, but radiant with smiles 
 and beauty, and glittering with jewels. She was 
 followed by a lady with peculiarly bright black eyes, 
 dark hair divided down the centre, and flowing in 
 ringlets upon a neck as white as the ceiling itself, 
 and cheeks like ' the rose that's newly sprung in 
 June'; her hands and arms, which were equally 
 white, and models in shape, were covered with 
 bracelets and rings. She wore a Brussels lace 
 dress over pink satin, and very short petticoats — I 
 suppose to display a beautifully small and well-turned 
 foot and ankle. I afterwards learned that this 
 flowing hair was a wig, this exquisite complexion 
 paint, and the lady sixty-four ; for it was the Mar- 
 gravine of Anspach. In the background of this 
 tableau stood Mademoiselle de Guilleragues, Nelly, 
 and the two English nursery-maids, looking very 
 much as the seven burgesses of Calais may be sup- 
 posed to have looked when going out to be hanged 
 for the good of their country, before Queen Philippa 
 begged them off." 
 
 My lady readers may also be amused by reading 
 Lady Lytton's account of the dress and fashion of 
 the beginning of the century. 
 
DRESS OF THE PERIOD. 23 
 
 " At length the happy moment came when we 
 were to be dressed to go downstairs ; and I doubt 
 if any bride of the present day, armed with all the 
 seductive witcheries of Mesdames Minette and 
 Palmyre, capped by Baudron, could be half so well 
 convinced of the irreproachable perfection of their 
 toilette as we, or at least as I was, upon being put 
 into a large blue jelly-bag, made of an abomination 
 called, in the war, Salisbury flannel, and (excepting 
 its ugliness) only famous for two things — namely, 
 palpable shrinking, both under the influence of 
 fire and water ; and unmercifully scrubbing and 
 scratching the arms and necks of the unfortunate 
 young delinquents condemned to solitary confine- 
 ment within the remorseless precincts of its woollen 
 pillory. 
 
 " Nelly having made this addition to our wardrobe 
 upon her own responsibility, had been determined 
 to do the thing handsomely ; consequently, above 
 each tuck was run a piece of tolerably wide blue 
 and yellow braid, not unlike that which used to 
 adorn old-fashioned liveries, only that this was silk 
 instead of worsted : however, the three huge tucks 
 of these lovely frocks need not have given them- 
 selves such airs, and stuck themselves out so, for all 
 that ; for in those days (as far as the tucks of child- 
 ren's frocks were concerned, at least) there was no 
 knowing how soon pride would have a fall ; for it 
 no sooner pleased Heaven in the natural course of 
 things that we should grow a couple of inches, than 
 down went a tuck. I was not then aware that 
 'Nature' had the good taste 'to abhor a vacuum,' 
 but I know that I did ; for nothing could be more 
 
24 I'IFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 abominable than the appearance of these deserted 
 railroads skirting our garments, which never owned 
 a swifter locomotive than a lukewarm iron, of which 
 Nelly was the solitary stoker. But on the present 
 occasion the tucks had not all the finery to them- 
 selves, for on the front of the bodice the same braid 
 (only narrower) was to be seen in an ingenious sort 
 of puzzle, displayed in a pattern something like that 
 of a lazy-tongs and the stripes on a backgammon 
 board. 
 
 " Henrietta, from her more mature age and quiet 
 deportment, was permitted the pomp and vanity of 
 wearing her hair parted down the centre, and though 
 docked close behind d la raw recruit, yet at either 
 side of the forehead luxuriating into tufts of stiff 
 flat curls, one laid over the other, as round as a set 
 of wedding rings in their as yet harmless state — 
 before they have left the jeweller's shop. Whilst I, 
 on account of my more perturbed, that is, tom-boyish 
 habits, was made to look still more brazen by having 
 my hair brushed up into a sort of cataleptic rigidity, 
 like nothing in the world but a scrubbing-brush 
 which had received some sudden and terrible alarm 
 from which its nervous system had never recovered. 
 A pair of bright yellow kid shoes, a world too wide, 
 completed my charming costume." 
 
 Thus fearsomely arrayed, Henrietta and Rosina 
 were brought down to meet their uncle's guests at 
 dessert. They were ushered into " the little brown 
 dining-room, as it was called, though in reality it was 
 a fine oval room of thirty feet by twenty-five, with 
 the ceiling and panels painted in compartments by 
 Capriani, and the carving round these panels, and 
 
A STATE APARTMENT. 25 
 
 also of the looking-glass over the sideboard, which 
 was in a deep recess, was white picked out with 
 brown, very like a chocolate drop, which, with the 
 delicacy of the paintiqgs, gave this room the air of 
 a large boiibonnih'e, and from this brown-and-white 
 carving and its brown velvet curtains it had derived 
 the name of the brown room. 
 
 " This apartment opened into a drawing-room hung 
 with yellow damask, and looking upon a beautiful 
 terrace, to which one descended from one of the 
 windows by a flight of steps. It was furnished with 
 Louis Quinze cabriole chairs and cmiseuses, and 
 choice marqueterie cabinets and bureaux, inlaid with 
 old Sevres, the part which let down for writing 
 being covered with purple velvet, and the small 
 drawer daintily lined with white satin. Most of 
 these were presents from the Due de Bouillon, and 
 in one of them were some very costly old turquoise 
 jewelled Sevres dessert plates and coffee cups, con- 
 taining portraits of the beauties of the courts of 
 Louis Quatorze and Louis Quinze — that is to say, 
 six of one, and half a dozen of the other ; and of 
 these, as they appeared on the china, the old De 
 Maintenon and the young Du Barry were unques- 
 tionably the handsomest. There were also several 
 crab-shaped gold snuff-boxes, with portraits let 
 into them of Mademoiselle de Blois, the Due de 
 Maine, the Comte de Toulouse, and others of Louis 
 Quatorze's children." 
 
 Here they found Sir John Doyle, his secretary 
 Mr. Waltham, and the Due de Bouillon, seated 
 round the dinner table, the old Due " being attired 
 in a purple velvet coat and a white satin waistcoat. 
 
2 6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTOX. 
 
 embroidered in rich wreaths at the pockets, with 
 splendid lace ruftles and jabot, and being, moreover, 
 redolent of Diarcchale — a perfume then unknown on 
 this side of the Channel." 
 
 In the following extract, too, the costume then 
 affected by English ladies is contrasted with the 
 attire of Rosina Wheeler's French governess, as 
 she first appeared before her pupil's astonished 
 gaze. 
 
 " I must describe her, for there are no such ladies 
 to be seen now, I promise you, nor were there even 
 in the war, unless you went to Paris for them, which 
 was not easily done then. Her appearance struck 
 us as the more extraordinary, not to say ridiculous, 
 from the fact of English absurdity of dress being 
 at that time the very antipodes of French absurdity. 
 The English females (dear fatal name, rest never 
 " unrevealed " !) then really did dress with poke 
 bonnets, like bathing machines, with green veil, 
 union-jacks floating above them, very long waists, 
 very short and very narrow petticoats, tea-coloured 
 jean-boots, with rather thick soles, the said boots 
 being laced up the centre ; a broad hem, unhidden 
 by flounce or furbelow, was all the ornament ever 
 tacked to their skirts ; a long tight plain spencer 
 completed in those days the Anglo-Saxon female 
 costume, exactly like that of the young ladies who 
 went (I believe with the Prince of Wales) down to 
 a public-house at Wapping to besiege that remorse- 
 less creve-cozur of an actor, as described in that 
 extraordinary histrionic and historical nightmare of 
 M. P^redcric le Maistre's, entitled, " Kean, Drame 
 en cinq actes," except that the spencers aforesaid 
 
A FRENCH COSTUME. 2/ 
 
 were not made of green baize, as represented on 
 the boards of the Porte St. Martin. 
 
 " It will be perceived by this that the English style 
 of dress in 1812 was the flat and horizontal, whereas 
 the French style, on the contrary, was the perpen- 
 dicular and the bonibc, of which the lady now leaning 
 on my uncle's arm was a florid and first-rate 
 specimen ; for, though an emigree, she had friends 
 who kept her an coui'-ant to the Parisian fashions. 
 She, therefore, on the present occasion burst upon 
 our dazzled vision in all the facets of the followino; 
 splendour. Instead of a bathing machine, she wore 
 on her head a chimney-pot of white Leghorn ; for, 
 without any exaggeration, the crown of her bonnet 
 was half a yard high and quite perpendicular, only 
 slightly bowed out at the back and curving forwards 
 in front. This chimney-pot also did duty as a 
 flower-pot, as at the very summit of it appeared 
 a profusion of such exquisite roses, carnations, 
 mignonette, and pansies as at that time were never 
 seen in the British Isles, except growing in real 
 parterres. The leaf, that is the front, of this 
 stupendous superstructure, was shallow, being about 
 the depth and shape of half a milk-pan. On each 
 side underneath appeared little tufts of very short 
 black ringlets, all kept in their place by a band of 
 narrow black velvet round the head. She was thin 
 and angular ; but instead of going the lengths the 
 English ladies did, her waist, if waist that could be 
 called which waist was none, went literally under 
 her arms, the back at each side gracefully branching 
 off like the sticks of a fan. She wore a black 
 velvet spencer, with a fall of black blonde round 
 
2 8 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 the waist, and slashed or what were then called top 
 sleeves. 
 
 " Her dress was composed of white cambric muslin, 
 but flounced up to the knees, each flounce being 
 deeply embroidered in a wheel-pattern (her own 
 work), and an insertion of the same embroidery 
 heading each volant. In her right hand she carried 
 a black velvet reticule with a steel clasp and chain, 
 and across the same arm hung a yellow or rather 
 a deep aventurine-coloured cashmere shawl, with a 
 palm-border to it ; but altogether the most mira- 
 culous part of her appearance to our uninitiated 
 warlike eyes was the exquisite make and fit of her 
 gloves and shoes." 
 
CHAPTER III. - 
 
 RETURN TO ENGLAND, 
 
 In addition to the various accomplishments which 
 she acquired at the hands of this French governess 
 and her masters, Rosina Wheeler managed at 
 Guernsey to develop to a high pitch of perfection 
 an unlucky talent for mimicry, which she, I believe, 
 inherited from her father. 
 
 " I'm sorry to have to confess it," she writes, " but 
 I was born a mimic, and for my further misfortune 
 was endow^ed, as most mimics are, with a terribly 
 keen sense of the ridiculous, and once knowing a 
 person's peculiarities, I could not only imitate their 
 face, voice, and gestures, but could extemporise 
 whole scenes of adventures for them, and furnish 
 dialogues of what they would have said had they 
 been placed in such circumstances. But I beg that 
 no one will run away with the common but very 
 erroneous idea that ill-nature is the groundwork of 
 all mimicry, — for it is not, and it was often those 
 whom I loved the most that I imitated the best, 
 provided they had any salient points to imitate ; 
 but parrots and ventriloquists might just as well 
 be accused of being ill-natured and venomous as 
 mimics, for mimicry merely arises from a peculiar 
 organisation, moral and physical. Indeed, no one 
 
30 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON, 
 
 can sing or speak oratorically well, or be a good 
 linguist, without possessing an imitative power, which 
 is the germ of mimicry." 
 
 She mimicked her governess and her Italian master 
 with such success that they both enjoyed so im- 
 mensely the caricature of their own peculiarities as 
 to applaud instead of punishing. She imitated the 
 poor Due de Bouillon, and every one of marked 
 individuality whom she met at Government House ; 
 and her mother and aunt used to encourage her in 
 her dangerous gift, for the purpose of ridiculing any 
 lady or gentleman who might at the time have in- 
 curred their displeasure. In fact, her talents in this 
 direction were turned to such account that she was 
 frequently asked to rehearse her performances before 
 her grand-uncle and his guests, and gradually became 
 possessed of quite a miniature property-wardrobe 
 of articles of dress which assisted her in the realism 
 of her impersonations. It is hardly necessary to 
 add that this unfortunate facility by no means assisted 
 to smooth her future passage through the world, 
 for through it she innocently made many enemies, 
 and it was frequently made use of to her discredit 
 by unscrupulous maligners of her character. 
 
 Sir John Doyle — good easy man — seems to have 
 been most unmercifully bullied by his handsome and 
 wilful nieces ; and during the latter days of his stay 
 in Guernsey, besides being hampered by pecuniary 
 difficulties, he appears to have lived in no small fear 
 of domestic unpleasantness. 
 
 " About this time," writes Lady Lytton, " I became 
 acquainted with the only fault that the closest in- 
 timacy ever enabled me to discover in my uncle ; 
 
SIR JOHN DOYLE. 3 1 
 
 and though it is a fault common to most men — ay, 
 to the wisest, the best, and even to the most physically 
 brave — it is nevertheless one that produces the most 
 baneful effects, the most fatal results to their own 
 happiness, and to that of all with whom they are 
 connected : I mean, want of moral courage. The 
 fact is, my mother and aunt's society had already 
 taken effect upon him, and he had begun to adopt 
 the fatal code of 'anything for a quiet life !' A modern 
 uncle, no doubt, would have asserted his authority, 
 reminded them of the obligations they were under 
 to him, and requested them to leave the house if 
 they made it disagreeable to him ; and in this instance 
 a modern uncle would have done right ; but he, from 
 the very fact of its being his house, and of their 
 being under obligations to him, transposed the order 
 of things, and with a refinement of delicacy that 
 made him at once the greatest victim and the most 
 lovable of human beings, forbore, yielded, and 
 obeyed on all occasions, as if Jie had been in the 
 penniless and dependent position, for fear any of 
 us should be reminded that we were. Peace, gentle 
 spirit ! I forgive thee every childish tear thy one 
 fault caused me to shed in remembrance of thy 
 bright angel nature, of which no copy now remains !" 
 
 Sir John, moreover, seems to have acted the good 
 Samaritan to such a horde of rapacious relatives 
 that it is by no means surprising that by the time 
 he left the island his affairs were in an exceedingly 
 embarrassed condition. His great-niece, ever ready 
 to put the best possible construction on her hero's 
 weaknesses, explains matters thus : — 
 
 " All this preyed upon and worried my poor uncle, 
 
3 2 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 — the more so that, notwithstanding his own fine 
 private fortune, the munificent emoluments of his 
 salary (for in those days all official appointments, 
 whether embassies, governments, or missions, were 
 splendidly remunerated), and notwithstanding the 
 extreme cheapness of everything at Guernsey, from 
 French wines and French silks down to French 
 gloves and ribands, and all sorts of provisions and 
 house rent, then so ruinously dear in England, yet, 
 from the most unpardonable neglect, and the sort of 
 perpetual saturnalia that was allowed unchecked to 
 go on, he about this time found himself some twenty 
 thousand pounds in debt. This was hard, to say the 
 least of it, that he who had made a home for so many 
 should see his own begin to crumble about him ; his 
 household gods mutilated, if not quite destroyed, 
 one after the other, in the shape of privations and 
 retrenchments which are ever the hard coin in which 
 extravagance exacts payment from generosity and 
 principle. In short, he grew ill — ill with that weari- 
 ness of soul for which there is no cure, save in the 
 hands of Him who inflicts it." 
 
 In 1816 Sir John relinquished his office, and 
 returned to London, accompanied by Mrs. Wheeler, 
 Miss Doyle, Henrietta and Rosina, in the yacht 
 Ocean Pearl. 
 
 "The whole population of Guernsey had turned 
 out, and thronged the beach and the pier. My uncle 
 was not to return there, as the appointment was 
 to be given to an officer of inferior rank, and the 
 salary to be considerably reduced ; but had the 
 people of Guernsey been following his funeral, their 
 silence could not have been more profound and 
 
A FAREWELL. 33 
 
 mournful, or their tears have flowed more copiously. 
 There is nothing in seeing women, children, and 
 beggars cry, for tears are at once their vocation and 
 their heritag^e here below ; but when stern-visaeed, 
 strong-hearted men weep, the course of nature seems 
 overruled, that feeling may be avenged, and one is 
 awed before the miracle, as the Moabites andAmorites 
 were before the sun and moon when they stood still 
 in the valley of Ajalon. My uncle seemed equally 
 affected — perhaps more painfully so — for it is a great 
 charge for one heart to have to respond to thousands ; 
 but if ever heart were broad enough, deep enough, 
 and true enough for the task, his was. He cordially 
 returned the pressure of the hands within his reach, 
 but uttered not a word. Oh ! well and wisely, I 
 ween, are things meted out ; for how would half the 
 world ever express their small ideas and smaller 
 feelings but for great words ? and how would 
 great and intense feeling ever be expressed but 
 for silence ? " 
 
 They ultimately arrived in London, and put up at 
 a "gloomy hotel" in Jermyn Street, of which Lady 
 Lytton's recollections are not particularly pleasant, 
 as " for the most part my mother and aunt, being 
 unable to take us out unless one of them and one of 
 us remained at home (the carriage being a chariot), 
 our miserable time w^as spent in migrations, like per- 
 turbed spirits, from the large gloomy drawing-room 
 to the still more gloomy bedroom leading out of it, 
 and looking upon high walls and dingy leads, where 
 the few faint sunbeams from a London sky had no 
 chance of penetrating, with the fearful odds against 
 them of fog, soot, and smoke," 
 
 3 
 
34 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 To this dismal hotel came G rattan to visit Sir 
 John Doyle, and to be drilled by him in the art 
 of comporting himself with grace at a forthcoming 
 leviie of the Prince Regent, 
 
 " At this time Grattan was much bent, for it was 
 only four years before his death. He generally 
 walked with his hands behind his back, and his eyes 
 bent on the ground as if intensely preoccupied by 
 some engrossing thought — as, indeed, he always 
 was — for when, during the course of a long, glori- 
 ous, and consistent career, a man has had a whole 
 people in his heart and a whole country in his head, 
 as Grattan had, he has most indubitably sufficient 
 matter for preoccupation. . . , But to continue : 
 what with his white hair and his fragile appearance, 
 the illustrious apostle of Catholic Emancipation gave 
 gave to me the idea of a silver ash ; but there was 
 a genuine expression of benevolence in his eyes, 
 and a delicacy in the chiselling of the nose, which 
 seemed to bear testimony to the former beauty of the 
 face. It is perhaps needless to say that the inflec- 
 tions of his voice were peculiarly melodious ; for 
 who can be really an orator without that organ being 
 attuned to the most correct harmony?" 
 
 The lesson was a failure, for Sir John found it 
 impossible to make an elegant courtier out of the 
 sturdy patriot, though, for all the history tells us, he 
 may have gone through the ordeal itself with greater 
 success than the rehearsal. From Jermyn Street 
 Sir John moved into a small house in Lower Berkeley 
 Street, and his grand-nieces were sent to a fashion- 
 able school in Kensington. Rosina bitterly details 
 the misery which she endured at this establishment, 
 
SCHOOL DAYS. 35 
 
 accentuated by the fact that within a year her sister 
 Henrietta was taken away to DubHn by Mrs. 
 Wheeler ; but it is unnecessary for the purposes of 
 this narrative to dwell upon these girlish troubles. 
 Suffice it to say that she presumably received the 
 ordinary so-called finishing education, and in due 
 time left school, and went to live with Sir John 
 Doyle in Somerset Street. 
 
 During the next few years I have but scanty 
 details of Miss Wheeler's life. She appears to have 
 visited Ireland when about eighteen, and to have 
 stayed with her uncle, the Rev. Charles Doyle. She 
 then, for the first time since leaving Lizzard Connell, 
 met her father, who came up from his own place for 
 the purpose. Little or nothing resulted from the 
 interview, for they never lived together again. Mr. 
 Wheeler died in Ireland about 1820, and was buried 
 with considerable pomp and ceremony, being a very 
 prominent Freemason. I may here remind my 
 readers that Rosina was his sole heiress, for her only 
 brother died when a child, and her sister Henrietta 
 died in Paris in May 1826. From this sister, to 
 whom Lady Lytton was devotedly attached, and 
 whose death was to her not merely a crushing blow, 
 but a most irreparable loss, I have only one letter, 
 which it may not be out of place to transcribe here : 
 
 "Rue de Crenelle, St. Germain No. 13, Paris. 
 
 " December z^th, 1825. 
 
 " My dearest Rosina, — 
 
 " I was very glad to have received a letter 
 from you at last, as I had indeed expected to have 
 heard of you long before this ; but as your silence 
 has been accounted for in so satisfactory a manner, I 
 have nothing more to say, save a hope of reformation 
 
3<5 LIFE OF LADV LYTTOX. 
 
 for the future. And although you must not expect a 
 correspondent that is very amusing, or that can give 
 you much news, or even invent any, a Hne now and 
 then can certainly do no harm. Mr. Bentenis* visit to 
 Paris, and my having had the honour of dining with him, 
 is no news to you ; but I must tell you that he is a 
 charming, gay old man, and made conquest of every one in 
 the hotel where he lodged. From his amiable manners, 
 he was very much run after here, and his arrival an- 
 nounced in the papers in the most flattering manner ; 
 but the funniest of all is, that in his hotel he passed 
 with some for a great sportsman, and with others for one 
 of the great poets of the age; at all events they knew he 
 was a great man of some kind or other, but of what kind 
 they could not determine. We went with him one morning 
 to stay with him whilst he was sitting to a young statu- 
 ary of great genius for his bust. His two young secre- 
 taries were with us ; and as the conversation happened 
 to fall on Don Tomsono, etc., etc., it is needless to say 
 that the atelier resounded with shouts of laughter, in 
 which even the young artist joined most manfully. After 
 we had alternately related of him all the anecdotes that had 
 fallen under each other's knowledge, one of them exclaimed, 
 ' Oh, but, Richard, you have not told Miss Wheeler of the 
 ''Harlequinades!'''' I could hardly believe my senses. 
 But here is the story : Whilst he was stopping at Bentem's 
 he was one day with these young men in the library, just 
 equipped for going out— viz., the old plaid flannel petticoat 
 about his neck in guise of cloak, and that sMiiisant hat, 
 put on in the true Tompson cock, when they began talking 
 of the agility of Harlequin, when Tompson immediately said, 
 ' I do declare to God that in less than three weeks I could do 
 the same.' 'Well, Mr. Tompson, but you should give us a 
 specimen of your talent.' Whereupon viio caro nglissinio 
 gathered his ' auld cloak aboot him,' and hat and all 
 capered, kicked, and frisked and flung about for some time 
 d la harlequin, whilst his enlightened and discerning audi- 
 
 * Jeremy Bentham. 
 
MIMICRY. 
 
 0/ 
 
 ence were in strong convulsions on the floor. When he was 
 introduced to the young Comte de Miranda, who was com- 
 plaining that a very hot climate incapacitated him from 
 great application to study, Tomsono advanced towards him 
 with 2i pas de Zephyr, and levelling his tins at him, told him 
 that this must be caused by a defect in his own intellect. 
 The young man at first stared, but had tact enough to 
 see how matters stood. However, all those political econo- 
 mists have their peculiarities, and many among them are 
 amiable men. 
 
 " I am afraid I must conclude for the present, with best 
 love to yourself, in which mamma joins, who is very happy. 
 Love to darling Bessy, General Doyle, and 
 *' Believe me, dearest Rosina, 
 
 " Yours most affectionately, 
 
 " Henrietta." 
 
 This Don Tomsono admired Mrs. Wheeler ; and 
 her daughters told her if she dared to have anything 
 to say to him they would never let her have any 
 peace. Lady Lytton was a wonderful mimic, but 
 she told me she was a long time before she could 
 take Tomsono off But one night she caught the 
 idea ; and their mother heard so much laughter in 
 their room that she called out, " What are you 
 making so much noise about ? " " Oh," said Rosina, 
 " I have got him at last." She had found an old 
 scratch wig, and imitated him to perfection. Her 
 Miss Dulcibella B. was glorious. The only draw- 
 back was she could not speak, her mouth was 
 screwed down so tightly. Her changes were instan- 
 taneous. 
 
 I also know that Lady Lytton was in Paris 
 when Charles X. was king ; but beyond the fore- 
 going there is practically nothing to narrate until 
 December 1825, the date of her first meeting with 
 
38 LIKE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 her future husband, at which time she was still living 
 in Somerset Street with Sir John Doyle, while her 
 mother and sister were in Paris. Here I again 
 call upon Lady Lytton to resume her narrative, 
 premising that from the following I have omitted 
 nothing of the smallest relevancy or importance. 
 There are many bitter expressions which I might 
 have excised, many asperities which I might have 
 smoothed over ; but I have deemed it best to let the 
 whole stand, hoping that my readers will not forget 
 that at the time it was written the iron had entered 
 into the poor lady's soul, and she was smarting from 
 the pangs of cruel outrage and neglect. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FIRST MKETING OF ROSINA WHEELER WITH EDWARD 
 LYTTON BULWER AND HIS MOTHER, AT MISS 
 
 BENGER'S, 1825 ' L. E. L." PARTY AT MRS. 
 
 LYTTON 'S. 
 
 And now was about to dawn the most fatal era of 
 my life, when my engoilinent for literary celebrities 
 led me to plunge headlong into the Bohemianism 
 of their perhaps more (iniailld than magic circle. 
 Fed, as I had been, upon the rather " strong meat " 
 of my dear grand-uncle's traditions and personal 
 reminiscences of the magnates of politics and litera- 
 ture of his time — for "there ivej^e giants in those 
 days " — I had rather too much of a ciiltns for 
 the genus author, and at that time not sufficient 
 discrimination to perceive how the pure gold of 
 the olden time had been superseded by modern 
 pinchbeck for the million ; and not very well gilt 
 pinchbeck either. It is true that the few live 
 authors I had met at my mother's — dear old Jeremy 
 Bentham, and the " Tom Toms," as my sister and 
 I irreverently called Moore and Campbell — by no 
 means filled the highest niches in my ideal Pan- 
 theon ; yet still women are said to love fame, and 
 this is more especially the undiscriminating sin of 
 young women; and by the time they are old enough 
 to know better the mischief is done, and it is too 
 
40 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 late to profit by the copy-book admonition " Evil 
 communications corrupt good manners." It was 
 peculiarly unfortunate for me that my mother, and 
 that wisest, kindest, truest friend I ever had — 
 my dear sister, were then in Paris. My grand- 
 uncle only accompanied me to my favourite aver- 
 sions — dinner parties, and to occasional squeezes at 
 great houses, and to the receptions at the Admiralty; 
 for the Duke of Clarence, afterwards William IV., 
 was then Lord High Admiral. 
 
 My aunt never went anywhere, and only snapped 
 out what was very true — namely, that it was very 
 wrong to allow me to go out alone, and to let me have 
 the carriage when I pleased ; but she did nothing 
 either to obviate or remedy this. As she was con- 
 stitutionally objective and chronically implacable, her 
 animadversions had little weight, more especially 
 as she ever flavoured them with the family craze of 
 arraigning ugliness as a sin! for on one occasion, when 
 
 I had gone with Lady C P , afterwards Lady 
 
 B , to the Freemasons' Tavern, to hear my uncle 
 
 speechify as D.G.M., she for a whole week, apropos 
 de bottes, twitted and taunted me on every occasion 
 with " How you could, for the sake of going out, be 
 seen with so ugly a woman in public I cannot con- 
 ceive ! — I'd have stayed at home for ever rather 
 than have made such an exhibition." But it is very 
 certain that had my mother been in England I should 
 not have been allowed to take such " a header " into 
 the Slough of " Literary Society " as my evil star 
 led me to do at that time. The way of it was this. 
 " L. E. L." had just dawned upon the world by those 
 "Cameos from the Antique'' of hers in the Literary 
 
LITERARY CELEBRITIES. 41 
 
 Gazette ; and among the miscellaneous pieces at the 
 end of one of her poems — "The Troubadour," I 
 think — was a very charming little poem about a 
 gallant achievement of my dear grand-uncle which 
 she had heard from some old Chelsea pensioner, 
 who had been an eye-witness to it. This was quite 
 enough for me : I set off in hot haste to call on her, 
 and ask if I might bring the hero of her poem, and 
 present him to her. She was then living with her 
 grandmother in Sloane Street, I was surprised, and 
 somewhat scandalised, when I first saw her ; for 
 though only 2 p.m., she had her neck and arms bare, a 
 very short, but elaborately Bounced white muslin dress, 
 and a flower in her hair, — but I thought, of course, 
 that authoresses, like "charming women," might 
 dress themselves just as they pleased. In later years 
 her dress was thoroughly tamed to the conventional 
 standard, but her manners were never entirely 
 broken in. It was at her house I first beheld all the 
 most curious specimens of the literary inenagerie ; 
 but I also met one of the most amiable and worthy, 
 if precise, old ladies I ever knew in my life — Mrs. 
 Roberts, the widow of Dr. Roberts, head master 
 of St. Paul's School. If one could imagine Sir 
 Charles Grandison having quitted his turbulent 
 sex and exchanged into the Dowager Reserved 
 Corps, placid and still, exquisitely polite, in the 
 richest and softest of black satin tiirque, heavy 
 with rich Chantilly lace, and surmounted by a snowy 
 white blonde cap, that was a hybrid between that 
 of a Quakeress and one of Greuze's fanchettes, he 
 would exactly have presented the outward appear- 
 nace of Mrs. Roberts. There was also a prim 
 
42 LIFE OF I.ADV I.VTTON. 
 
 pleasantry al^out the clear old lady, that always 
 reminded one of " the cup that cheers but not 
 inebriates." She was even a more enthusiastic 
 admirer of " L. E. L." than I was, and indeed over- 
 flowing with kindness and consideration for all young 
 people. Nothing could be more exquisite than the 
 little dinners she used to give us at her house in 
 Mansfield Street, but their (goodness was all so 
 solid, so decorous, so stately — to the noiseless, 
 well-bred servants, that one felt if all one ate and 
 drank (more especially the port) and saw was not 
 in a bishop's palace, it ought to have been. The 
 only thing not exquisitely in keeping with what Mr. 
 Disraeli might call " the sustained " dignity rather 
 than "splendour " of her existence was her carriage, 
 or rather coach : shabby it could not be called — its 
 paint and varnish and broadcloth lining were all too 
 new and point devise for that — but there was about 
 it too much of " the devil's darling sin, the pride 
 that apes humility," for it was the exact model ot 
 a hackney coach, as hackney coaches then existed, 
 only a hackney coach endimanchde; and the slow but 
 very sure pace the sleek black horses went at, con- 
 tinued successfully the resemblance. But at these 
 literary Folkniotcs of "L. E. L.'s " it is impossible to 
 describe, among so many strange and questionable- 
 looking people, what an crgis one felt Mrs. Roberts 
 
 to be ; for, unlike Lady A , who, when asked to 
 
 chaperone some English lady of cloudy character to 
 the Tuileries, in Louis Philippe's time, said, " No, 
 I have character enough for one, but not for huo,'' 
 Mrs. Roberts had such a plethora of character and 
 respectability that she had enough to sjjare for all 
 
A DISTINGUISHED AUTHORESS. 43 
 
 Babylon. At one of these literary menageries it 
 was that I first met Miss Spence, authoress of many 
 immortal works, now widely forgotten : she was very 
 stout, very short — in fact, very like a Sancho Panza 
 in petticoats, before he became Governor of Barra- 
 taria and was condemned to such short commons. 
 Her sleeves, like her skirts, were short, and in imita- 
 tion of Madame de Stael she always twirled a 
 sprig of something (quality if she could get it) in 
 her fingers. Her nose was very thick, and wide at 
 the wings, like a county hospital ; her lips also thick ; 
 mais en revanche there was great economy about 
 her eyes, which were very small, and so light that 
 with false pride they seemed not to like people to 
 know they had pupils. But her face had antici- 
 pated the recent discoveries in America by more 
 than half a century, for it always looked as if it 
 had just " struck oil." Like all the authoresses of 
 that day, she culminated in a turban, or at least a 
 caricature of one in gauze and wire, as unlike the 
 real Moabite or Sibylline structure as the trade 
 mark on the bottles of Bass's pale ale is like the 
 Pyramids of Egypt. Poor Miss Spence's chief 
 idiosyncracy was like Mr. Collins' in " Pride 
 and Prejudice," always talking of "her humble 
 abode." She never harpooned any one for her 
 parties without the peroration " if they would 
 condescend to honour her humble abode." And 
 if Mr. Collins had his Lady Catherine de Burgh 
 always ready, as a social battering-ram, where- 
 with to pulverise his inferior acquaintance into 
 awe and admiration, in like manner did Miss Spence 
 bring up her great gun Lady Caroline Lamb. This 
 
44 I.IFE OF LADY LYTTOX. 
 
 was the manner in which she appHed the match : 
 "If you will so far honour my humble abode as to 
 come next Tuesday, you will meet some litry (she 
 never said literary) celebrities ; and, ' though last, 
 not least,' dear Lady Caroline Lamb, whom I honour 
 more for her litry abilities than for her rank, — though 
 when sJie condescends to honour it with her pre- 
 sence, others — of less litry and social pretensions, 
 need not be afraid to honour my humble abode." 
 
 Among all these " turban'd Turks," who did not 
 exacdy scorn the world, there was one for whom I 
 had a sincere regard and esteem : this was Miss 
 Benger, the author of " Elizabeth, Queen of Bo- 
 hemia," and other historical works. She was that 
 litde coveted but inestimable and rare excellence 
 which may emphatically be called a good n^eature, 
 for she was good in every relationship of life ; and 
 trying and perilous were many of those relation- 
 ships to her, but she came bravely, nobly, and 
 straitly through them all. Alas that so much 
 excellence should have been the unwittinsf cause of 
 so much evil ! She had made it a point that I 
 should go to one of her parties ; it was, as well as 
 I remember, the beginning of December, 1825. I 
 had been reading out to my uncle, or rather, had 
 just finished, a book that all the world was wild 
 about — "Vivian Grey." It was then just out ; and 
 no one knew who had written it. There was a spice 
 of the prophetic in my uncle's critique as I closed 
 the book, — " Whoever has written that is a devilish 
 clever and somewhat unscrupulous fellow ; he'll 
 leave his mark on the world's brazen wall, and would 
 be quite equal, I should say, to any and every 
 
AT MISS BENGER'S. 45 
 
 emergency, from a falling comet to an earthquake." 
 I was not only quite hoarse from reading aloud 
 so long, but had a dreadful cold beside. When the 
 carriage was announced, my uncle said, " My child, 
 you must be mad to think of going out to-night with 
 such a cold : you'll catch your death." " Oh no : my 
 furs — or rather yours, for I'll take one of your 
 Turkish pelisses — will defy both fog and frost ; and 
 poor dear Miss Benger would never forgive me if I did 
 not go, as I promised to take some people home for 
 her." And so I went. As usual, dear Miss Benger 
 was all kindness : in honour of my cold, she placed 
 me on a sofa near the fire, and propped me up with 
 cushions ; but presently my attention was arrested 
 by a long, intensely fiat figure, with its back to me, 
 who was talking to some one on the opposite sofa. 
 Like the horse mentioned in the long-after-published 
 " Orpheus C. Kerr Papers," — " as viewed from be- 
 hind this figure was decidedly Gothic." But the 
 head-gear was the most extraordinary tozir de force 
 I ever saw, even for what Miss Spence would call a 
 " litry " party, where I had seen many impenetrable 
 toilet enigmas ; for this one looked like a conglo- 
 meration of Turkish bath towels that had been 
 suddenly seized by the insane ambition of emulating 
 the serpents on the Laocoon, and were writhing 
 round and round the head of the lady in question. 
 Miss Benger, perceiving my inquiring glances, said, 
 sotto voce, almost bursting herself, " Don't laugh, if 
 you can help it : that is Mrs. Edward Blaquiere ; she 
 has the reputation of being the ugliest woman that 
 ever was invented, not excepting Potiphar's wife. 
 She is the wife of Edward Blaquiere, who was with 
 
46 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Lord Byron in Greece, and who has disappeared so 
 mysteriously ; people say he is not dead, but only 
 pretending to be so, to keep out of the way of his 
 wife ; and when you see her face you'll easily believe 
 the story." " But what on earth has she on her head ? 
 I have been trying for the last ten minutes to make 
 it out ; I am used to turbans run to seed ; but no 
 poppy-head in Brobdignag ever presented such an 
 outrageous appearance." Poor Miss Benger now 
 fairly exploded behind her fan, as she whispered to 
 me, " No, it has legitimately nothing to do with 
 heads of any kind ; it is, tout bonnemeiit, a pair of 
 Prince Mavrocordato's inexpressibles, which she 
 brought away, as one of her Greek trophies, and 
 has utilised as you see." " In fact," said I, "it is 
 not only a variation of the old charade about the 
 ostrich feather, but a charade en action — 
 
 ' In Africa's realm delighted to range, 
 On the tail of my owner I fled ; 
 But in England experienced a wonderful change — 
 I, instead of a tail, deck a head ! ' " 
 
 " Exactly," laughed Miss Benger ; and roused 
 by the laugh, the owner of the princely garment 
 turned suddenly round. Without for a moment 
 impeaching his courage, oh how I envied Mr. B, 
 his power of flight ! The face now before me was 
 • — white as the cotton turban that surmounted it, 
 and pitted with the small-pox like a cribbage board ; 
 and very long, but to be sure it was as broad as it 
 was long, and as flat as a sheet of paper ; while the 
 nose, though long, was so flattened into the face 
 that it gave one the idea of a giant having sat down 
 
MRS. EDWARD BLAQUIERE — " L. E. L." 47 
 
 Upon it by mistake. Little attenuated jet black 
 ringlets, like corkscrews in an atrophy, dangled 
 down on each side, as far as the very high cheek- 
 bones, which they did not pass, apparently afraid 
 of so mountainous a journey. Her figure kept the 
 unities perfectly, being as flat and as gaunt as her 
 face ; — this was cased in what I can only describe 
 as a sort of white satin armour, made perfectly tight, 
 without a vestige of trimming or fulness ; and being 
 lined with buckram, to insure greater rigidity, it 
 rattled like amateur thunder at every movement 
 she made. But oh I the voice, — it was an anti- 
 podical voice, at once shrill and gruff, and so jerky 
 and spasmodic, with a metallic twang in it, that it 
 gave one the idea of a pair of tongs clanged across 
 the bars of a gridiron, in default of any more 
 harmonious instrument. 
 
 For one mortal half-hour the tongs and gridiron 
 twanged on, in the same strain — I in vain trying 
 to elicit some details about Lord Byron, beyond his 
 anchorite resistance of Mrs. B.'s attractions — when 
 fortunately " L. E. L." (Miss Landon) arrived ; 
 but was some time before she made her way over 
 to me, for she had to shake every one by both 
 hands chemin faisant ; for never was there any 
 one, even among the literati, who had such an 
 exaggerated and enthusiastic way of expressing 
 what she did not feel. On the present occasion 
 she looked remarkably well : she had a sweetly 
 pretty blush-rose complexion, her forehead, eye- 
 brows, eyes and eyelashes, were beautiful, the 
 mouth not bad ; the defaulter was the nose, if such 
 it could be called — being one of the most homceo- 
 
48 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 pathic, ignoble little snubs that ever attempted 
 to do duty for that important juste viilieu of facial 
 population. Her hands, feet, ankles were also very 
 pretty ; and her figure so light and petite that its 
 fiatness and angularity were almost unobserved. 
 
 While poor Miss Landon was still hurling down 
 her avalanches of flattery upon my devoted head — 
 which was really cruel, considering what a heavy 
 weight it had already to bear, in the shape of a bad 
 cold — there was a slight commotion, and a sudden 
 cessation of voices, at the other end of the room ; 
 and Miss Benger said to me, sotto voce, " Oh! here 
 is that odd, rich old woman, Mrs. Bulwer Lytton, 
 and her son, her favourite son, — he is very clever, 
 they say : his was the Prize Poem this year at 
 Cambridge, — I must introduce you to them." "Oh 
 no, pray don't, on any account!" I said, as Miss 
 Benger hurried away to greet the new arrivals. 
 As she did so, stopping at the door to shake hands 
 with them, I had time to take an inventory of 
 both ; and both were new and curious in their 
 way. The old lady wore a rather crushed had- 
 been-white blonde cap, with still more oppressed 
 artificial flowers trampled over it ; her hair, which 
 was not grey, but dark-brown, was so completely 
 and chaotically frizzed over her forehead and eyes 
 that it was impossible to see the latter in extenso, 
 — only in occasional glints, as one does those of 
 a Skye terrier from the same style of coiffure. 
 Her very prominent aquiline nose was so large 
 that it would have been an exaggerated feature for 
 a man. Her mouth and teeth were both large, and 
 the latter very long and prominent. She wore 
 
MRS. BIMAVER LYTTON. 49 
 
 a morning dress high up to her throat, of that 
 sort of dull-red slate-colour which, even in the 
 bloom of its youth, always looks dingy and faded, 
 so it might have been quite new ; round her throat 
 was what used to be called " a frill," of thread lace, 
 upon which the blonde of the cap, though it had 
 long passed its grand climacteric, seemed scornfully 
 to look down. Round her neck, under the ruff, and 
 condescendingly reposing upon the dingy silk, was a 
 diamond necklace ; and under the diamond necklace, 
 and in proper subjection to it, was a cameo necklace, 
 each cameo (small oval ones on dark shells) linked 
 together with small Venetian chains, as they used 
 to be worn at the beginning of this century ; under 
 the cameo necklace came a thick but very dingy 
 gold chain ; while in the centre of her chest — • 
 though it had no apparent 7'aison d'etre, as it had 
 nothing to fasten — was a very large round topaz 
 brooch, surrounded by pearls, as if acting as a 
 full stop to all the above essays of jewellery. She 
 wore on each wrist a similar variety ot bracelets, 
 which appeared like the lineal descendants and 
 heirs apparent of the necklaces. Her gloves were 
 of white kid, but unwontedly stiff and hard. In 
 her right hand she carried a pocket-handkerchief, 
 folded ; and in the folds of the unfolded kerchief 
 was a very small white satin fan, labouring under 
 a confluent eruption of gold and silver spangles. 
 From the lady's left side dangled a sabretash- 
 shaped green velvet reticule, with a steel chain 
 and clasp — a little larger than an aumoniere of 
 the twelfth century or a purse of Henry VIH.'s 
 time, when fashion exacted that the said purses 
 
 4 
 
50 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 should be worn outside, which afforded such a 
 harvest to the light-fingered gentry that it gave 
 rise to their title of " cut-purses." It is proverbial 
 que Ics extremes se touckent ; and the adage was 
 certainly not belied in the present instance, for 
 if this lady was the incarnation of the dowdy and 
 the out-of-fashion, her son, upon whom she leant 
 —and who had a grotesque expression, between 
 a suppressed strut and a primitive-Christian- 
 martyr-like amount of self-abnegation, as if wishing 
 practically to illustrate to the living mosaic of 
 science, philosophy, literature, and art, then and 
 there assembled, that 
 
 " To bear, is to conquer one's fate ! " — 
 
 was altogether as antipodical an impersonation of 
 modes and fashions and chics considerably in 
 advance of their age. He had just returned from 
 Paris, and was resplendent with French polish, so 
 far as boots went. His cobweb cambric shirt-front 
 was a triumph of lace and embroidery, a combina- 
 tion never seen in this country till six or seven 
 years later, except on babies' frocks. Studs, too, 
 except in racing stables, were then non est ; but 
 a perfect galaxy glittered along the milky w^ay 
 down the centre of this fairy-like lingerie. His 
 hair, which was really golden, glitteringly golden, 
 and abundant, he wore literally in long ringlets, that 
 almost reached his shoulders. The likeness to his 
 mother was striking ; only, reversing the usual order 
 of things, his features were, though very proiwnce, 
 softened duplicates of hers ; he also was unmistak- 
 ably gentlemanlike-looking ; indeed, according to 
 
MR. LYTTON BULWER. 5 i 
 
 his then surroundings, too patrician-looking. What 
 I mean is, that the fitness of things externally, 
 as well as mentally and psychologically, is always 
 marred by want of harmony ; and it has often 
 struck me that it amounts to a species of inverse 
 vulgarity to be more thoroughbred-looking than 
 any one else in a room, just as it decidedly is 
 vulgar to be the only one over-dressed person. 
 Now, looking round at the dim, thick-booted, 
 unkempt Herr Muddlewitses and Mufflechops by 
 which science was represented, — the philosophy, 
 which seemed, in " the interests of suffering 
 humanity," to be trying personal experiments of 
 strangulation via wisps of camomile-tea-coloured 
 mull muslin round their throats, — the literary 
 gentlemen, in gold nose-pinchers, who had con- 
 verted thereby their noses into a supererogatory 
 parenthesis, and the literary ladies, who were 
 darting about like galvanised rag-bags, a man 
 who, as men i/icn dressed, would have created 
 a smile and riveted a stare even at Devonshire 
 House or Almack's, certainly did explode upon 
 that literary Folkniote like a sort of sartorial 
 shrapnel ! Poor D'Orsay's linen gauntlets had not 
 yet burst upon the London world ; but, like the 
 little source of a mighty river, Mr. Lytton Bulwer 
 had three inches of cambric encircling his coat 
 cuffs, and fastened with jewelled sleeve-links. And 
 although it then wanted full five years till every 
 man in society, like a defaulting schoolboy, was 
 caned, he also dangled from his ungloved and 
 glittering right hand a somewhat gorgeously 
 jewelled headed ebony cane ; and the dangling 
 
52 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 was of the scientific kind, that had been evidently 
 "learnt, marked, and inwardly digested." Miss 
 Landon and I, thus taken unawares, both laughed 
 at the strange tableau of contrast at the door, as 
 I exclaimed, — 
 
 '' Sir Plume, of amber snuff-box justly vain, 
 And the nice conduct of a clouded cane." 
 
 The quotation was as involuntary as the laugh. Oh, 
 Nemesis ! I little dreamt with what a ruinous usury 
 of tears you would make me pay that laugh through 
 all my after life ! 
 
 While Mrs. Bulwer Lytton and her son were still 
 at the other end of the room, I heard Miss Spence's 
 little nibbling sotto voce over my shoulder, beginning 
 with her usual overture of " Oh, my dear" (or as she 
 pronounced it, 7neddear\ " don't let Miss Benger 
 introduce you to that dreadful old Mrs. Bulwer 
 Lytton, for I see her son has never taken his eyes 
 off you, and she has behaved in the meanest manner 
 to me. I sent her my last novel, which La Belle 
 Assemblee and several other litry organs say is 
 my best, and quite equal to Anthony Frederick 
 Holstein's 'Star of Fashion,' or even 'A Winter 
 in London,' which killed the Duchess of Devonshire 
 and so delighted everybody. Well, meddear, would 
 you believe it ? though my book was only sixteen 
 shillings, that dreadful old woman, when I sent it 
 to her with ' The author's compliments ' written on 
 the fly leaf, which is always a compliment from 
 litry people, sent me a sovereign for it by her 
 housekeeper, and the woman actually asked and 
 waited for the change, which of course she had her 
 orders to do ! So different from dear Lady Caroline, 
 
AN INTRODUCTION. 
 
 53 
 
 who said in one of her sweet notes, in which she 
 enclosed me ^lo, that though she had not time to 
 do so then, she looked forward with great pleasure 
 to reading it, and asked me if I had sent a copy 
 to Isaac D' Israeli, — which I did not, meddea7% as I 
 thought he was quite too learned and abstruse to 
 read novels." Miss Landon's laughing eyes and 
 keen sense of the ridiculous could not resist the 
 jest, and so taking up Lady Caroline's gauntlet about 
 Isaac D' Israeli, which might have lain for ever 
 perdu and unsuspected upon Miss Spence's litry 
 arena, said, " On the contrary, of course he reads 
 everything, as pabulum for his ' Curiosities of 
 Literature.' " Ignoring the interruption, the un- 
 suspecting Spence perorated her plaint with, " But 
 to return to dear Lady Caroline. She, of course, 
 is used to litry celebrities, and knows what is due 
 to them." " Exactly," interrupted I, " and therefore 
 knows how difficult it is to take change out of 
 them." 
 
 While Miss Landon and I were still laughing 
 over poor Miss Spence's latest contribution to the 
 " Calamities of Authors," Miss Benger made her 
 way back to us, and, bending down, said to me, 
 "You must let me introduce you to Mrs. Bulwer 
 Lytton : she has asked me so particularly twice to 
 do so, as she has a party to-morrow evening and 
 wants to ask you." 
 
 " Oh no, pray, on no account. I would so much 
 rather not ; and indeed my cold is so bad I ought 
 to stay in bed." 
 
 "Nay, to please me, I am sure you will, like a 
 dear, kind, unselfish soul, as I know you are ; for 
 
54 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 if you do not take me you know I shall certainly 
 not go to the expense of a carriage." 
 
 "Of course not," said I. "You shall have the 
 carriage with pleasure, but don't ask me to take you." 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! yes ! I know you will come tJiis once, 
 to please me ; and I will never again ask you to 
 do anything you don't like," persisted Miss Benger. 
 " Besides," added she, " do you know, you have made 
 a desperate conquest of the young man ; and he is 
 so clever, and though a younger son, I daresay he 
 will be a good pai'ti, as I believe his other brothers 
 are provided for, and he, they say, is the old lady's 
 favourite." 
 
 "Very likely," I said; "but partis, as you may 
 have perceived, are nothing to me. I have up to 
 the present time — and I am just verging on the 
 "Superannuation of three-and -twenty — escaped all 
 partis. My uncle says if I go on I shall be an 
 old maid. I tell him yes, my vocation is to be a 
 sensible woman, which is the proper name for the 
 vulgar sobriq2iet of old maid." 
 
 " Oh ! there they are both looking at us. You 
 really must let me introduce you to them, for as they 
 know I have asked you to do so. and that I am now 
 speaking to you on the subject, you cannot refuse 
 without being markedly rude, which I know you 
 never wish to be." 
 
 " But I really feel so ill and so stupid, and there 
 don't appear to be much inspiration in them ; and 
 what on earth can I talk to them about ? " 
 
 "Why, taste, Shakspeare, and the musical glasses, 
 and all the rest of it ; and you who are so fond of 
 poetry will be quite at home, as the young man's 
 
FIRSr IMPRESSIONS. 55 
 
 was the prize poem at Cambridge this year, and is 
 really very good, I hear." 
 
 "Of course all prize poems are: what was the 
 subject ?'' 
 
 " 1 forget ; but you must ask him, and that will 
 be a very good opening." 
 
 " That is only for the Alma ; but what on earth 
 shall I do with the mater, who looks truly formid- 
 able, unless I ask her if she has been sitting for the 
 family picture as Mrs. Primrose, after that worthy 
 matron had enjoined the limner to stud her with as 
 many jewels as he could stick in for nothing?" 
 
 '' Mdchante !'' said Miss Benger, as she went back 
 to her other guests; "how do you know but that 
 you are ridiculing your mother-in-law V 
 
 " I hope not," I replied ; "for without having the 
 presumption to aspire to originality, one hates to 
 be a mere echo." 
 
 As one should always confront the inevitable 
 with calm and self-possession, even if one cannot 
 do so with dignity, which albeit depends far 
 more upon one's entoui'age than on one's volition, 
 seeing Miss Benger now retracing her slow but 
 sure way, with the mother and son in her wake, I 
 had nothing for it but to resign myself to my fate, 
 wondering parenthetically why Miss Spence, who 
 was a free a^ent, and standinof at the back of the 
 sofa, did not move away from the approaching 
 vicinity that she so much despised ; for as " silence is 
 golden " and " speech silvern," she might be tempte^i 
 verbally to jingle the four never-to-be-forgotten 
 shillincTS in the ears of their too faithful custodian ; 
 but she did nothing of the kind. She stood to her 
 
56 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 guns heroically, merely bending down and whisper- 
 ing to me, as Miss Benger approached with her 
 convoy, '' Meddear, remember." " Not twelve, but 
 four," said I. 
 
 My having to stand up to undergo the ordeal of 
 presentation completely hid Miss Spence longitudi- 
 nally, though net in width ; and when Mrs. Bulwer 
 Lytton had told me that she was " at home " on the 
 following evening, and should be " vastly " (or, as 
 she always pronounced it, vaustly) happy if I would 
 do her the honour of coming with Miss Benger — 
 adding, as soon as I had conditionally accepted her 
 invitation, if my cold was not worse, " Pray, my dear 
 madam, be seated ; though I'm sure you look so 
 vaustly well no one could suppose you were labour- 
 ing under any sort of indisposition," — as of course 
 I would not sit down while she remained standing, 
 I moved on one side. The surprise was almost as 
 great as when the screen fell and discovered Lady 
 Teazle to Sir Peter, for there stood Miss Spence, 
 her head, with its green gauze architectural fabric 
 nodding d discretion, or rather sans discretion, like 
 a Japanese joss, accompanying the same by a series 
 of genuflections, while in her most nibbling pianis- 
 simo mouse-in-a-cheese voice she addressed Mrs. 
 Bulwer Lytton with '' Meddcar madam, this is the 
 first opportunity I have had of thanking you for 
 your kind patronage of my last work, which I doubly 
 value, knowing you have so much litry talent in your 
 own family." 
 
 The lady thus addressed waved her right hand, as 
 if, though perfectly aware she Jiad done a noble deed, 
 she yet was too additionally generous to wish to be 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 5 7 
 
 reminded of it ; and so proceeded to efface this favour 
 by conferring another, by telHng Miss Spence she was 
 at home on the following evening, and should be happy 
 to see her. At which Miss Spence made a sudden 
 Jack-in-the-box-like sort of spring, as if her head and 
 very large bust were en route for the ceiling, and 
 said, or rather exclaimed, with emphatic ecstacies, 
 " Oh ! meddear Madam, I shall be most proud and 
 happy ; though your parties, with all their hothouse 
 luxuries, quite spoil me for my own, as in my humble 
 abode, at my litry reunions, I can only pretend to 
 purvey food for the mind." 
 
 Miss Spence having at length attended to her 
 punctuation, and come to a full stop, the lady thus 
 apostrophised only having had to " purvey " for 
 persons who had a mind to pine-apples, and there- 
 fore not seeing clearly what pine-apples had to do 
 with the mind, took refuge in the golden rule of 
 silence, and with another wave of her right hand 
 executed a sort of pantomime conge to her litry 
 interlocutor, who, falling back out of the ranks, 
 eclipsed herself behind the outworks — that is, the 
 beard, spectacles, and rampant ears of a fat German 
 professor. 
 
 Mrs. Bulwer Lytton had passed on in search 
 of other " Curiosities of Literature," and left her 
 son standing before me, evidently bent upon taking 
 high degrees as a conversationalist, and carrying my 
 wonder, and of course admiration, by storm. His 
 hrst essay, however, was a coup manque, owing 
 to the fulsomeness of his compliments, which were 
 quite in keeping with the foppery of his dress. 
 They had such a nauseating effect upon me that I 
 
SS LIFE (W LADY LYTTON. 
 
 resolved I wouki not }xiy him in kind, and so never 
 even mentioned his prize poem to him, with which 
 Miss Benger had primed me. Finding me flattery 
 proof, he ghded into something hke rational conver- 
 sation, and toned down his fiatical manner so that I 
 began to think that, despite his souffle surface, there 
 was something in him, but not enough to make me 
 wish to meet him again so as to ascertain the fact ; 
 and it was a relief to me when a telegraphic look 
 from his mother summoned him to her side at the 
 other end of the room. Whereupon Miss Benger 
 came back to me, and asked if I did not think him 
 very clever ? " Well — yes, perhaps so ; only he is 
 too decidedly of your opinion on that point." I then 
 pleaded my cold, which really was very bad, and 
 entreated her not to ask me to go with her to 
 Mrs. Bulwer Lytton's on the following evening, but 
 the more I resisted, the more she urged her request ; 
 and as even the^i I knew, what I know so much 
 better now, that poverty is always more open- 
 handed than wealth, and consequently, when one 
 lends a carriage to those who have none, if one does 
 not go in it oneself the person to whom it is lent is 
 sure to give one's servants as much as the hire of 
 a carriage would have cost them, this reflection 
 suddenly occurring to me it was which made me 
 say, with a sigh of resignation, "Well, if I'm 
 alive, I'll call for you at half-past ten to-morrow 
 evening." 
 
 Very soon after this the carriage, which I had 
 ordered early, was announced. No sooner had I 
 reached the drawing-room door than Mr. Lytton 
 Bulwer darted across the room to offer me his arm 
 
A GOOD-NIGHT. 59 
 
 to take me downstairs, and packed me up as 
 carefully as if I really had been something of value. 
 
 " What splendid sable ! " he exclaimed, as he 
 inducted me into the Persian-green Turkish pelisse. 
 
 " Yes, is it not ? As it is only borrowed finery, 
 I may extol it. It is one of two that the Grand 
 Vizier gave my uncle ; and, scandalous to say, they 
 have both been left tossing about for years hanging 
 up in the servants' hall till I took possession of 
 this one." 
 
 The night was rainy. I begged of him not to 
 come out, but he would put me into the carriage, 
 and regardless of the little cataracts that were falling 
 from the servant's umbrella, still stood, hoping that I 
 would honour his mother on the following evening. 
 
 A little note from Miss Benger the next day, just 
 before dinner, nailing me to my appointment, left me 
 no loophole of escape ; so at half-past ten I called 
 for her. She began by scolding me for never having 
 mentioned Mr. Lytton Bulwer's prize poem to him. 
 "Well, really," said I, "if you will drag people out 
 of their beds who are only fit for pillows and hot 
 possets, you cannot expect them to attend to les bien- 
 scauccs, or even les convenances. I must only try and 
 remember about the prize poem to-night. But how 
 comes it that the mother is Mrs. Bulwer Lytton and 
 the son is Mr. Lytton Bulwer ? — for one really gets 
 puzzled between the two. It is so hard to call 
 people names when you don't know what names to 
 call them." "Well, dear, Mrs. Bulwer Lytton was a 
 Miss Lytton when she married General Bulwer; and 
 two or three years after General Bulwer's death, her 
 lather, Mr. Lytton of K neb worth, died and left her 
 
6o LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 his sole heiress. She then re-took the name of 
 Lytton ; and before that, as she was an heiress, all 
 the children — viz., her three sons — were christened 
 Lytton Bulwer." 
 
 Arrived at Mrs. Bulwer Lytton's house, in Upper 
 Seymour Street, though I had not yet seen the 
 pine-apples, Miss Spence was recalled to me by the 
 " powdered footmen," who were so gigantic in that 
 small house that they gave one the idea of being a 
 charade en action of multum in parvo. The hostess 
 was dressed as on the previous evening, only with 
 two diamond necklaces instead of one. Not so her 
 son. His costume was greatly subdued, and conse- 
 quently he seemed much more gentlemanlike. From 
 not being so exaggerated to look at, he appeared 
 much more worthy of being listened to. His manner, 
 too, had markedly improved : it was more subdued — 
 subdued almost to diffidence, at least to an admirable 
 imitation of it ; and although from the moment I sat 
 down, after speaking to his mother, there was an 
 evident appropriation of me on his part, yet there 
 was nothing o^Qnsiv&Xy p7^ono tic e in the manner of it, 
 for with the exception of rather too large a dose of 
 his mother's gratitude for my coming, all the rest 
 seemed as if merely a sort of drab punctilio of hospi- 
 tality to welcome a guest who had never crossed 
 their threshold before. Not to be too much in his 
 debt, I then asked him the subject of his prize poem. 
 He said it was "Sculpture.'' "A very far-sighted 
 selection," I said ; " for by this means you have 
 insured your niche in the Temple of Fame being 
 doubly filled by your works." He made me a very 
 low bow, and of course assured me that such praise 
 
A PARTY AT MRS. BULWER LYTTON'S. 6 1 
 
 was fame. Soon after this he asked me to 2:0 down 
 and take some refreshment, as the heat of the room 
 was overpowering. I did so ; but leaving all the 
 pine-apples for Miss Spence, only drank a glass of 
 water. My companion was not, as he was on the 
 previous evening, trying to shine, and therefore was 
 much more interesting, and really agreeable. I cannot, 
 of course, record half that was said on that evening, 
 and only wish I could forget it all. Finding we 
 were the only two persons in the as yet uninvaded 
 refreshment-room, having drunk the water and 
 admired the flowers, I expressed a wish to return 
 upstairs. 
 
 " Oh ! for Heaven's sake don't," said my com- 
 panion; "it does seem such sacrilege to see you 
 among those old fossils. Having found the spring 
 in the desert, and this oasis, don't let us be so un- 
 grateful as to leave it so soon." He then launched 
 out into satirical silhouettes of the human mosaic 
 above stairs ; — but although I could not help 
 laughing, neither could I be so ill bred as to join in 
 ridiculing his mother's guests, however ridiculous 
 they might be ; so when he placed Miss Spence 
 upon the easel, I said, " Now, really I cannot 
 allow this, as I take Miss Spence and her ' humble 
 abode ' under my ' humble ' protection, and always 
 do a little Jack the Giant killing in her behalf; 
 as I really think her an exceedingly kind-hearted, 
 well-meaning person — and inoffensive, when she 
 lays aside the ' Htry,' that is, doffs the ' foolscap 
 uniform turned up with ink,' and returns to the 
 Mufti of muffins and marmalade." He made me 
 a low bow, and with one of his set smiles, said. 
 
62 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 "Had any one told me, a week ago, that I should 
 ever envy Miss Spence to the extent of wishing 
 myself like her, I should have brought an action 
 for libel against him or her." 
 
 In the midst of all this pei^siflage, we heard 
 Mrs. Bulwer Lytton's not very dulcet voice, 
 chanticleering out, " Eddard ! Eddard ! " (as she 
 always called her son Edward), " you really must 
 not hide the star of the evening down here," — and 
 advancing towards me with her usual paddle-like 
 wave of the right hand, she added, " So vausAy 
 kind of you to come, my dear madam ! that I 
 cannot have you wasted down here," and then laid 
 on her compliments so thickly and so coarsely, 
 that I was considerably abashed ; and being really 
 " unaccustomed to public speaking," and, like Mark 
 Twain, "quite unprepared for the occasion," but 
 unfortunately not having, like him, my speech 
 all ready and elaborately written out, in my pocket, 
 to prove my want of preparation, I muttered out 
 something about having had great pleasure 
 (humph !) in coming, and regret at being unable 
 to stay long, at which she expressed herself 
 " vaiistXy sorry," and then we were marched up- 
 stairs. There was something so overpoweringly 
 ludicrous in the mingled expressions of ill-sup- 
 pressed rage and compulsory obedience and 
 resignation in her son's face, that Hogarth's " March 
 to Finchley " came into my mind, and if my life 
 had depended upon it, I could not have helped 
 laughing ; but, thanks to my cold, under guise 
 of a cough, and holding my handkerchief before 
 my mouth, this unlucky laugh was successfully 
 
AN AFFABLE HOSTESS. 63 
 
 smuggled as far as the drawing-room door, from 
 whence we met Miss Spence emerging, towing 
 a little man in bristles and spectacles after her, 
 and just preparing to waddle down to the pine- 
 apples. "Oh! Meddear,'' said she, seizing my 
 hand, " had I known you were below, I should 
 have gone down sooner and joined you, — quite 
 as much on your account, Mr. Lytton Bulwer, I 
 assure you," she added, with a patronising little 
 triple bob major of nods. " For Bruce did not more 
 anxiously explore for the source of the Nile than 
 I do for litry talent in the young ; and I have 
 heard so much of your prize poem, that I long 
 to talk to you about it : I forget, at this moment, 
 whnt the subject of it was?" "On Patience!" 
 replied the ungrateful subject of this delicate 
 flattery ; in a voice so loud, sharp, and curt, 
 that it bounded like one solitary, but potent clap 
 of thunder. " Nonsense, Eddard ! " interposed his 
 mother; "he's so v<^^^^/ly playful ! that's his bodiii- 
 narge {badinage). Now do go down with Miss 
 Spence, Eddard, and talk to her about your prize 
 poem." Miss Spence, as if moved by a spring, 
 suddenly let go of the arm appertaining to the 
 bristles and spectacles, and made a dart forward, as 
 if to enforce Mrs. Bulwer Lytton' s commands ; but 
 that lady's son quite as quickly darted out of 
 danger, to the opposite extreme angle of the 
 doorway, and placing his hand upon his right 
 hip, darted a look at his mother, as he drew 
 himself up to his full height, which said, as 
 plainly as any words could have done, " Madam ! 
 you forget that there are limits even to parental 
 
64 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 authority, and consequently to filial obedience ! " 
 Poor Miss Spence, whose moral cuticle, fortunately 
 for her, was of a rhinoceros texture, placed this 
 very unmistakable reluctance all to the score of 
 extreme modesty ; so philosophically re-clutching 
 the only arm within her reach, said, with a little 
 patronising wag of her head over her shoulder, 
 as she pursued the ^«^-even tenor of her way 
 downstairs, " Ah ! well, true litry talent is 
 always modest ; but that will not prevent my 
 speaking to you another time about your prize 
 poem, Mr. Lytton Bulwer." 
 
 We had no sooner reached the drawing-room 
 than, having found me a chair, he flung himself 
 into another beside me ; and leaning back, as if 
 quite exhausted, asked me to lend him my fan. 
 After violently fanning himself for about a minute, 
 he said, " Oh ! I should not so much mind if 
 there were only more Desdemonas in the world." 
 
 "What!" I replied, "that there might be more 
 women murdered by their lords and masters ? " 
 
 " No ; but because Desdemona loved the Moor, 
 for the dangers he had passed.'' 
 
 " But," laughed I, ''you could not possibly 
 advance such a claim, as it appears to me that 
 you ran away most unheroically from the danger, 
 and let it pass you very quietly on its way down- 
 stairs," 
 
 " Humph! it's all very well to credit Shakspeare 
 with having ' exhausted worlds, and then imagined 
 new.' But, if so, he ought to have imagined a 
 real appalling, overwhelming danger for Othello, 
 and have wedged him in the narrow landing of 
 
A TETE-A-TETE. 6 5 
 
 a London staircase, with Paradise on the one 
 hand and Miss Spence within clutch of him on 
 the other ! — then indeed he might have had some 
 ' hairbreadth 'scapes ' worth telHng of, instead of 
 such ordinary vulgar squibs as battles and sieges ! ' 
 
 "Well, but you see Shakspeare, with all his 
 genius, and its deft handmaid imagination, had not 
 your advantage of experience ! therefore, could 
 yo2t not immortalise this new phase of the terrible 
 yourself ? " 
 
 " Hardly, seeing that there is no measure yet 
 invented by which one can portray the im- 
 measurable ! " 
 
 " Oh ! then," said I, laughing, as Mrs. Bulwer 
 Lytton was again advancing towards us out of the 
 next room, where there were two card tables, "you 
 must only fall back upon the Spenserian stanza, as 
 the most appropriate." 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Bulwer Lytton, advancing 
 towards her son, with a pack of cards in her 
 hand, " I'm vaustly sorry to interrupt your agreeable 
 tHe-a-tete with so much beauty and fascination, and 
 what La Belle AssembUe would designate as so much 
 grace and fashion ! but Lady Winterton is waiting 
 for a fourth to make up her whist party ; and you 
 must come, Eddard !"" 
 
 " Eddard " rose, and with his eyes cast up to the 
 ceiling, that ubiquitously pirated edition of Heaven 
 ^ui est to2ijours a la porte de tout le monde, and 
 groaned out, " Lady Winterton be speedily — in the 
 Elysian Fields ! " and so saying he stalked into 
 the other room, and took his place at the board 
 of green cloth, opposite to Lady Winterton, looking 
 
 5 
 
66 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 literally, as well as figuratively, tire a quatre 
 ^pingles. 
 
 Fortunately for me, soon after a servant entered 
 by the front door of the drawing-room, and did not 
 run the blockade of the card-room, and so found his 
 way up to me without interception, to announce 
 that the carriage had been waiting for an hour. So 
 I rose, found Miss Benger, and beat, as I thought, a 
 satisfactory retreat ; but in this I reckoned without my 
 host, for scarcely were we seated before Mr. Lytton 
 Bulwer appeared at the door of the carriage, with 
 a protest of "Surely you are not going yet.'* it's 
 scarcely half-past ten ; and there is going to be 
 some music." "Pardon me, " said ; I " it is a quarter 
 to twelve." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 COURTSHIP AND EARLY MARRIED LIFE. 
 
 It is impossible for me to give any detailed record 
 of the progress of Mr. Bulwer's courtship, for the 
 very sufficient reason that the only adequate account 
 of its varying phases is contained in his letters to 
 Miss Wheeler, which I am forbidden to publish. Mr. 
 Bulwer proposed marriage to his future wife some 
 time in April 1826. His suit was accepted, though 
 she writes: " I told him that both he and his mother 
 would hate me when they found I could not minister 
 to his unsatiable ambition. Alas that I should 
 have been such a true prophet ! " 
 
 And here I must say a few words upon a curious 
 theory propounded by Earl Lytton in his life of his 
 father. The biographer would have us believe not 
 only that at an early age Mr. Edward Bulwer met 
 with an enchanting, if somewhat mythical, child, who 
 " died from love to him, and whose beautiful and 
 steadfast nature appeared to promise all which he 
 had missed in life, and for which he never ceased 
 to yearn," not only that he flirted with this young 
 lady by the waters of the Brent, and subsequently 
 left her to pine, but that in consequence of this 
 calf-love — Mr. Bulwer was then seventeen — his whole 
 nature became warped and blighted, his capability 
 of loving purely and devotedly destroyed, and his 
 
68 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 heart changed into an aching void, which disposed 
 him "to seize with impatient avidity any apparent 
 promise of happiness from the exercise of his affec- 
 tions on a lower range." 
 
 Now, whatever may have been Bulwer's faults, 
 there is no sort of doubt that, at all events before 
 he married her, he loved Miss Wheeler with all 
 the passionate affection of which his nature was 
 capable. He wrote to her hundreds of letters ; 
 he persisted in setting at nought his mother's ob- 
 jections to the union ; and although Miss Wheeler 
 broke off the engagement on no less than three 
 distinct occasions, it was each time renewed in defer- 
 ence to his own pressing solicitations. But his son 
 would have us believe that it was Rosina's plain and 
 unmistakable duty to repel the advances of this 
 frenzied adorer with copy-book precepts, and cast 
 aside his ardent devotion with unrelenting scorn, to 
 steel her heart, which was no longer in her own 
 keeping, against his eloquent pleading, and to wreck 
 the happiness of her life in obedience to the wholly 
 unreasonable prejudices of that worthy but worldly- 
 minded old lady Mrs. Lytton ! Surely common 
 justice and charity will take a more merciful view of 
 Miss Wheeler's dilemma. Edward Bulwer professed 
 that he loved her to distraction ; and I have no 
 reason to doubt that at this period his professions 
 were sincere. She loved him devotedly in return. 
 His mother was a notoriously selfish and eccentric 
 old dowager, who had an infinitely greater regard 
 for her son's success in the world than for his per- 
 sonal happiness or his domestic peace. Is it there- 
 fore surprising that Bulwer's persistency should at 
 
MRS. LYTTON'S consent UNOBTAINABLE. 69 
 
 length have overcome Miss Wheeler's scruples, and 
 that, in the confident hope of a speedy reconciliation 
 with his mother, she should have consented to link 
 her lot with his ? 
 
 The actual date for this unhappy union was 
 several times fixed and postponed, for Bulwer 
 spared no effort to obtain his mother's consent. 
 He argued high and low, with quotations from 
 Paley and the Schoolmen, in order to prove a fact 
 beyond the necessity of demonstration, viz., that 
 there are limits even to filial obedience, and that 
 a son is not bound to wreck his own and his 
 betrothed's happiness for life in deference to the 
 whim of an ambitious mother.* It is of course 
 true that Mrs, Lytton had a large fortune in 
 her own right, and that her son was practically 
 dependent upon her, but how far this circumstance 
 influenced him in the course he adopted may 
 be left to the judgment of my readers. December 
 1826 was the first date mentioned for the wed- 
 ding. It was put ofT, however, to the follow- 
 ing summer, and did not actually take place until 
 August. One reason for this delay appears to 
 have been that Mrs. Lytton had become possessed 
 of a theory that Miss Wheeler was much older than 
 she professed to be, and special messengers were 
 despatched to Ireland to obtain documentary evi- 
 dence of the date of Rosina's birth. This evidence 
 was of course forthcoming, but Mrs. Lytton did not 
 vouchsafe her consent, and the day was finally fixed 
 for the 29th of August. Mr. Bulwer had meanwhile 
 
 * See Edward Bulwer's letters to his mother, *' Life of Lor d 
 Lytton," vol. ii., pp. 137, 140, 143, [45, etc. 
 
JO THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 taken Woodcot House, Oxfordshire, as a residence, a 
 scrambling old-fashioned house buried in the depths 
 of the country and desperately dull, and to this abode 
 he took his wife immediately after their marriage. 
 One or two points, however, remain to be mentioned 
 before that event is referred to. First as regards 
 the respective incomes of the couple. Bulwer him- 
 self, as his biographer informs us, had a capital of 
 ^6,000, out of which he settled ^1,000 on his wife 
 to bar dower. The reasonable suggestion of Sir 
 John Doyle that more adequate provision should be 
 made for her he treated with much virtuous indigna- 
 tion, and, with characteristic generosity, she not only 
 persuaded her uncle to waive his request, but even 
 lent her future husband ^500, a sum which, I may 
 here remark, he forgot to repay. I must also add 
 that Mr. Bulwer subsequently induced his brother 
 William, then the sole surviving trustee of the settle- 
 ment, to hand over to him this ^1,000. As regards 
 the fortune of Miss Wheeler herself, the accounts 
 I have are somewhat conflicting. It must be re- 
 membered that she was her father's sole heiress, 
 for her only brother died in childhood, and her sister 
 also died in Paris in 1826. There is of course every 
 reason to suppose that Mr. Francis Wheeler dis- 
 sipated by far the larger part of his patrimony before 
 his death, but Lord Lytton's estimate of his mother's 
 private income at /80 a year is distincdy an under- 
 statement.* In a letter from Dr. Roberts, Lady 
 Lytton's trustee, written in 1873, he says that her 
 income was "considerably more than ^700 per 
 
 * I might suggest that Lord Lytton could easily verify his 
 statement by publishing his mother's marriage settlement. — L. D. 
 
A DESCRIPTION OF MISS WHEELER. 7 1 
 
 annum," but this is not in accordance with other 
 authorities, nor with Lady Lytton's own statement, 
 for I always understood that ^300 was nearer the 
 real amount. This must have been chiefly derived 
 from her Irish property, the remnant of which was 
 sold before their separation for ^2,774 17^., after 
 having given Mr. Bulwer his qualification for his 
 first seat in Parliament. 
 
 And now a few words about the personal 
 characteristics of the bride. Rosina Wheeler may 
 be described as an excellent type of most of the 
 virtues and many of the amiable weaknesses pecu- 
 liar to her nationality. She was, that is to say, 
 warm-hearted, sensitive, and generous to a fault, 
 of an intensely passionate and highly strung organi- 
 sation, proud, no doubt, possibly too apt to feel 
 keenly neglect or coldness, but ever ready to forgive 
 even the most unpardonable offences. That she was 
 jealous of her husband I do not pretend to deny ; it 
 was impossible for such a woman to love devotedly 
 without resenting the infidelity of the man whom 
 she adored ; but that her jealousy was only too well 
 founded will frequently appear in this narrative, and 
 is indeed a fact that the most servile admirers of her 
 husband have scarcely attempted to conceal. Mrs. 
 Wheeler was certainly somewhat of a freethinker, but 
 her daughter was one of the most fervently and truly 
 religious women whom it has ever been my fortune 
 to meet, and in this respect also afforded a striking 
 contrast to the avowed agnosticism of Mr. Bulwer. 
 As regards age, there were almost exactly six 
 months between the pair, Rosina having been born 
 Nov. 2nd, 1802, and Edward Bulwer May 25th, 1803, 
 
72 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 and I may add that this trifling disparity was made 
 use of in subsequent years to such excellent purpose 
 by Mr. Bulwer, that he succeeded in inducing num- 
 bers of his friends to believe that he had thrown 
 himself away in boyhood upon a woman almost old 
 enough to be his mother. Miss Wheeler w^as by 
 general consent a noted beauty, and might have 
 married a dozen times. Even during her ill-fated 
 engagement she was besieged by offers. A brief 
 account of her appearance may not be inappropriate 
 here. She was tall, with an exquisite complexion, 
 dark hair, and bright grey, or, as she called them, 
 green eyes, sparkling and changing colour with 
 every emotion. Her nose was finely chiselled, her 
 eyebrows delicately pencilled, her forehead broad 
 and high, her mouth small, her teeth perfect, and 
 her chin somewhat square and determined. She 
 had a remarkably fine figure, bust, and arms, and 
 small feet. As regards other attributes, I may 
 add that she was an excellent housekeeper and 
 accomplished needlewoman. Literary talents of a 
 high order she undoubtedly possessed, not only in 
 the judgment of her friends, but of her husband. 
 Her reading was extensive, and her memory almost 
 to the last day of her life retentive to a very un- 
 common degree. I have before dwelt upon her gift 
 of mimicry, and she also possessed a keen sense of 
 humour and a ready wit. She spoke French and 
 Italian perfectly, and was familiar with Spanish and 
 Latin. About the character of Mr. Edward Bulwer 
 it is not so easy for me to speak with a reasonable 
 hope of giving an impartial judgment, and I will 
 therefore leave it to the decision of my readers. 
 
EARLY MARRIED LIFE. 73 
 
 On Thursday, the 29th August, 1827, at St. 
 James's Church, Piccadilly, Edward George Earle 
 Lytton Bulwer, Esq., was married to Rosina Anne 
 Doyle Wheeler, by the Hon. and Rev. William 
 Bentinck. After the breakfast, Mr. and Mrs, Bulwer 
 set off for Woodcot, near Nettlebed, Oxfordshire. 
 Rosina Anne Doyle Wheeler was the only surviving 
 child of the late Francis Massy Wheeler, Esq., of 
 Ballywire, Lizzard Connell, Limerick, Ireland. 
 
 Of Mr. Edward Bulwer's early married life at 
 Woodcot I have, unfortunately, no very full details, 
 but one can scarcely imagine it to have been of a 
 very enlivening character. Bulwer's avowed object 
 in selecting a house buried in the depths of the 
 country was to lead a life of absolute seclusion, 
 and to devote himself to almost unremitting literary 
 toil. With an income of ^500 or so a year 
 the couple lived much beyond that rate, and the 
 money had to be found, and I do not deny that 
 it was found, somehow or another. But for a 
 young and beautiful woman to be shut up in a 
 gloomy mansion without society, friends, or amuse- 
 ments, in company with a husband whose toils pre- 
 vented him from seeing her for more than an hour or 
 so during the entire day, was surely a very severe 
 trial of affection. Nor was this all that she had 
 to endure. Bulwer's love was of a type more 
 sensual than imaginative, and after a very brief 
 honeymoon he found it imperatively necessary for 
 his prospects to indulge in prolonged visits to 
 London. I do not mean to assert that these 
 periodical absences were entirely without justihca- 
 
74 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON, 
 
 tion. Literary men must interview their publishers, 
 must to a certain deQ:ree mix in the world of 
 letters, and keep themselves well in view of the 
 public, if they do not wish to incur the risk of 
 falling into oblivion. But Mr. Bulwer's absences 
 from home were so frequent and so prolonged that 
 I can scarcely believe them to have been always 
 prompted by considerations of necessity or of affec- 
 tion at this early period of his married life. 
 
 In the spring of 182 8 Mrs. Bulwer was expecting 
 her confinement, an event which took place on June 
 27th, and here I am compelled to narrate a truly 
 deplorable incident which was told me by Lady 
 Lytton herself as a striking instance of her husband's 
 cruel and violent temper. This episode occurred 
 about the end of May 1828, nearly a month before 
 the birth of her daughter. She was in the constant 
 habit of assisting her husband as much as possible 
 in his literary labours, and on that occasion had been 
 helping him by getting down books for reference 
 from the library shelves. Worn out and exhausted 
 one evening, she had lain down on the sofa, when her 
 lord and master ordered her to hand him down another 
 volume, and for that purpose to mount a step-ladder. 
 
 " Really, Edward," she said, " I cannot do more, 
 I am so tired." 
 
 In a sudden fit of fury, he sprang to his feet and 
 kicked her in the side with such savage violence 
 that she fainted from the pain. In after-years, 
 when Mr. Bulwer committed a still more brutal 
 outrage upon his victim, a friend* of hers remarked, 
 
 * Dr. Lushington, when she told him that Mr. Bulwer had 
 bitten her cheek. 
 
AN UNNATURAL JEALOUSY. 75 
 
 " That man has been ill-treating you for years 
 past," and upon Mrs. Bulwer inquiring his reasons 
 for such a theory, he answered, " Because I do not 
 believe that any one could suddenly develop into 
 such a cruel tyrant." That his suspicions were 
 only too well founded is proved by many flagrant 
 instances of Bulwer's violence and cruelty. 
 
 A month later on, June 27th, 1828, a daughter, 
 Emily Elizabeth, was born. In her confinement 
 Mrs. Bulwer suffered very severely, and there is 
 but little reason to doubt that her aofonies were in 
 great measure, if not entirely, caused by the above- 
 mentioned exploit of her amiable spouse. Of the 
 unhappy life and squalid death of their unfortunate 
 daughter it will be necessary to speak hereafter; but I 
 must, injustice to Lady Lytton, say a few words with 
 reference to a singular misconception of her son's 
 that the care and society of children was distasteful 
 to her. During Mrs. Bulwer's life at Woodcot, 
 and for some years after, she continually assisted 
 her husband in his literary toils. At a subsequent 
 date a friend asked Mrs. Bulwer what she had been 
 reading lately ; and her answer was, " I have been 
 studying the Newgate Calendar to help Edward 
 with 'Paul Clifford.'" Such being the case, Mr. 
 Bulwer, that is to say, not only requiring his wife's 
 undivided attention, but even looking with jealousy 
 upon the affection she lavished on his child, he 
 determined that the infant must at once be sent 
 out to nurse, lest it should interfere with his domestic 
 arrangements. In his elegant phraseology he de- 
 clined to allow his wife's time " to be taken up by 
 any damned child," and the litde girl was accord- 
 
76 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 ingly handed over to the care of a neighbouring 
 farmer's wife. The consequence of this enforced 
 separation was that about the middle of July Mrs. 
 Bulwer's eyesight became affected by constant 
 weeping ; and in the following September the 
 doctors, being unable to afford her permanent relief, 
 ordered her to Weymouth, whither, accordingly, she 
 went with her husband on September 19th. For 
 the next three months they stayed together at Wey- 
 mouth, but in December Mr. Bulwer's presence in 
 town was again indispensable, and there he remained 
 for upwards of a month. Mrs. Bulwer left Wey- 
 mouth about the 20th of January, and was obliged 
 to perform her cold and dismal three days' journey 
 back to Woodcot alone, her husband not deeming it 
 necessary to accompany or meet her. He had, in 
 fact, conceived a violent hatred for that rural retreat, 
 and up to the time when he finally quitted it, about 
 six months later, his visits there were very few and 
 far between. Thus for a great part of February 
 and March he was absent in London, and in April 
 they removed for a time to Tunbridge Wells. But 
 the air of Kent did not suit Mr. Bulwer much better 
 than that of Oxfordshire, for during May he re- 
 mained in London, looking for houses and en- 
 gaged in literary and other business, in spite of 
 his wife's repeated complaints of the dulness of 
 Tunbridge and frequent entreaties to be allowed 
 to see more of him. As regards houses, he finally 
 decided to buy 36, Hertford Street, Mayfair, for 
 ;^2,570, and this house continued to be Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bulwer's London residence for several years. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 VISIT TO NAPLES. DEPOSITION OF THE MAID BYRNE. 
 
 I MUST here again apologise to my readers for the 
 scanty nature of the materials I possess for framing 
 a connected narrative of the next few years of Lady 
 Lytton's married life. A very brief recital of her 
 chief movements may be given ; and then I will 
 return to the testimony of the injured wife as told 
 in her own lang^uao^e, and to the evidence of other 
 witnesses to her husband's proceedings. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bulwer removed to Hertford Street in the 
 autumn of 1829. A son, Edward Robert, was 
 born November 8th, 1831. They left England 
 in the autumn of 1833, and arrived at Naples on 
 the 17th of November that same year. Her life in 
 Naples Lady Lytton frequently mentioned as having 
 been one of the happiest periods of her existence, 
 but any gratification she derived from her sojourn 
 there must have been grievously marred by her 
 husband's brutality and violence, as will hereafter 
 appear. I have a short fragmentary journal, or 
 rather diary, written by her at Naples ; but it con- 
 tains nothing but the briefest possible notes of her 
 movements, and is not worth reproducing in extenso. 
 It is chiefly a record of social functions, dinners, 
 dances, and so forth, and seems to have served also 
 
yS THE LADY OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 as a memorandum of the number of lessons Lady 
 Lytton took from her Italian master and the number 
 of carriages she hired. There are no entries for a 
 few days prior to January 14th, 1834. However, at 
 that date I find an entry : " Dined at Lord Hert- 
 ford's ; taken by Lady Cullum," which is somewhat 
 important as tending to corroborate the following 
 deposition, sworn to by Mrs. Rosetta Benson, whose 
 maiden name was Byrne, for several years maid to 
 Lady Lytton. 
 
 Deposition of Mrs. Rosetta Benson (whose 
 
 MAIDEN NAME WAS BYRNE), MAID TO LaDY LYTTON. 
 
 " I, Rosetta Benson, Widow, whose maiden name was 
 Byrne, and who Hved for some years as Lady's-Maid with 
 The Right Honourable Lady Lytton — then Mrs. Edward 
 Lytton Bulwer, when her Ladyship married — from 1827 to 
 1845, being prevented by the present state of my health 
 from going to. London to give my evidence in the Divorce 
 Court — should it be necessary — Do hereby depose on Oath 
 — before The Rev** John Batt Bingham, Magistrate, Herts, 
 that during the whole of that period I never knew any 
 Gentleman treat a wife, more especially such a good and 
 irreproachable wife, so hardly and so badly as the present 
 Lord Lytton, then Mr. Edward Lytton Bulwer, did her 
 Ladyship, not only as to cruel neglect and infidelity, but 
 also as to acts of brutal personal violence, amongst others 
 on one occasion, when travelling in Italy in 1833. One 
 night at the Lake of Bolsano he so dashed the things 
 about, and at her Ladyship, that even Luigi the courier 
 vowed he would not continue the journey with him. Again 
 at Naples, after having in one of his brutal rages kicked 
 and bang'd her Ladyship against the stone floor at the 
 Hotel Vittoria till she was black and blue, and had to keep 
 her bed. A few days after — because people began to talk 
 of this at Naples, he made her, poor lady, get up and dress 
 herself to go to a great dinner at Lord Hertford's. 
 
Byrne's deposition, 79 
 
 " After we got back to London, his temper continued 
 awful towards her Ladyship; for having asked him for money 
 to pay the House Bills left unpaid when they went abroad : 
 so one day, in July 1834, at dinner at their House, 36 Hert- 
 ford Street, May Fair, London, he seized a Carving knife, 
 and rushed at his wife, when she cried out, ' For God's 
 sake, Edward, take care what you are about ! ' when he 
 dropped the knife, and springing on her like a Tiger, made 
 his teeth meet in her left cheek, until her screams brought 
 the men Servants back into the Dining room, and he has 
 ever since hunted her thro' the world, with Spies and bad 
 Women, and does not allow her enough to live upon, for 
 a Lady in her station. 
 
 " As every one knows of his cruelty in Kidnapping her 
 Ladyship, and shutting her up in a Madhouse on 22nd 
 June 1858 — from which the poor Lady was released, thro' 
 the public outcry it caused — at the end of three weeks : — 
 I have nothing further to add — but that a better, more 
 devoted wife no man, rich or poor, ever had ; she was far 
 too good a Wife for Lord Lytton. 
 
 " RosETTA Benson. 
 
 " Witness, JOSEPH HUGGARD, II, Ann's Terrace, Fulham. 
 "Mary Ann Russell, „ „ „ 
 
 "The above is the declaration of Mrs. Rosetta Benson, 
 before me. The Rev** JOHN Batt Bingham, Magistrate 
 of Hertfordshire. 
 
 "J. B. Bingham, J. P., October 4th, 1867." 
 
 Endorsed by Lady Lytton : — 
 
 " Byrne wrote the foregoing deposition at her own house 
 where she died, in George Street, Hemel Hempstead, 
 Hertfordshire," 
 
 It is characteristic of Lady Lytton that, although 
 herself suffering from straitened means, she had 
 for several years previously allov^ed the poor maid, 
 who was dying from a lingering disease, ^20 a year, 
 besides frequent gifts suitable to her condition. 
 
So THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Lady Lytton's own account of this and other 
 episodes is given in an unpubHshed manuscript 
 entitled " Nemesis." As I shall frequently have 
 to quote from this work, I must premise that it is 
 written in the form of letters, addressed by " the 
 shade of Lord Byron " to " the rising and risen male 
 generation of Great Britain," and contains a very 
 full account of the various trials and persecutions 
 which Lady Lytton endured. 
 
 " Suppose, then," says the umbra, "instead of leaving my 
 wife, as I did, her child and all her property, I had tortured 
 her as a good drudge and general soiijfre doiilcur for eight 
 or nine years, kicking her within an inch of her life about 
 a month before her first child was born, which she, poor 
 soft-hearted, conscientious fool, might endure for the sake 
 of that unborn child, and in the hope of reclaiming me, all 
 which silly forbearance on the part of a wife, you are aware, 
 is what our charming laws in their rigid virtue call * con- 
 donation ' ! and preclude her getting any further redress. 
 Well, if, after this pretty little prelude, the moment her 
 first child was born, I had it turned out of my house, 
 saying I would not have my wife's time or attention 
 
 taken up with any d d child ! and after this amiable 
 
 and praiseworthy proceeding, I let her cry herself blind, 
 but never would yield to her entreaties of letting the poor 
 little martyr be brought back, till I found the world was 
 beginning to talk about me! and then, with a prudential 
 view to my own interest and that scrupulous deference 
 which must always be paid to public opinion in * moral 
 England,' I allowed my child to be smuggled into my 
 house, on the express proviso that it was not to entail upon 
 me an additional servant, and that I was never to find my 
 wife one moment absent from her post of attendance upon 
 me ; and that thereupon my wife, having a silly habit of 
 always serving people when she could, implored me to let 
 her ask a homeless but very vulgar old maid, whom she had 
 once known, to come and stay with her, as she was such 
 
"NEMESIS. 8 1 
 
 a good soul, so pious, and so fond of children — in short, 
 she devoted her whole time between Bibles and babies, and 
 would look after ours, and so save a head nurse ; but in 
 order that she might not fancy or feel herself a dependant, 
 my silly wife insisted upon her always dining with us, and 
 heaped her with dresses, kindnesses, and presents of every 
 description to try and make her presentable (which, by-the- 
 bye, is the way in which that most venomous of all reptiles, 
 the domestic viper, is generally brought up by hand, till it 
 turns upon you, and inflicts a deadly wound for your 
 pains). Suppose, further, that I varied my cuffs and kicks, 
 and — Trenwntanos, of demoniac passion and other little 
 incidents, which women cannot tell even to their lawyers ; 
 and which very young women, however disgusted they 
 may be at them, are still not aware that they have legally 
 a right to do so — but supposing I varied all these charm- 
 ing scenes, in our domestic drama, by occasionally telling 
 my victim that she had been perfection to me as a wife, 
 and that I could not even think of her without tears 
 in my eyes, etc., etc., etc. ; at the same time telling others 
 that I did not give her much credit for her Griselda of 
 a temper, as I thought it was constitutional. Made bold 
 by the security of knowing that she would not even hint to 
 her own mother my conduct — such was the sort of sacred 
 seal that she had set upon her endurance — I now begin to 
 bring my mistresses into the house, and insist upon her 
 being civil to them as long as they were ivonieii in society ; 
 and if any of these ladies' relations presumed to interfere 
 about my conduct, then my plan was to get my wife 
 abroad, first taking a soleuui oath to her that everything 
 
 was at an end between me and Mrs. , whereas, as soon 
 
 as the packet was in the middle of the Channel, who should 
 she see but the lady in question, and I lying (in every sense 
 of the word) at her feet ^ when upon landing, as I took 
 care my wife never should have a shilling in her possession, 
 and therefore knew she could not return, I told her in 
 a bullying tone, seasoned plentifully with oaths, not to 
 
 make a fool of herself, that she nmst give Mrs. a place 
 
 in her carriage to save her character ! More condonation 
 
 6 
 
82 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 this, for I was astutely calculating every move as I wove 
 each fresh mesh of the toils for my victim ; and after 
 a wretched journey of kicks, cuffs, and every insult to her, 
 we returned home " (?), " I naturally irritated at having 
 spent more money in vet-tii than I could afford, which, from 
 great economy in virtue, I thought I had a right to do. 
 My wife, however, goes on as usual, inviting a set of 
 fellows of the critical press, reviewers in fact (a sort of 
 animal whom she both despised and disliked), to the house, 
 on account of my being an author, and even entreating 
 me often, for prudential motives, to lend them money, 
 which, by-the-bye, where literary gentlemen are concerned, 
 means give, for they never offend one by returning it, 
 except in paper currency, so that, after all, this sort of 
 thing does not exactly come under the head of generosity, 
 but is merely a value-received sort of transaction. Still 
 further suppose (for no railway is so rapid as the progress 
 of evil) my next calculation is that it will not do to leave 
 my victim the slightest shadow of independence, for then I 
 should not get her so completely into my power. So I 
 affect to be in pecuniary difficulties, though at that time I 
 had a mother living, who, having tutored and encouraged 
 me in every vice, readily supplied all my extravagance, my 
 wife's little property having given me a qualification for 
 the first borough for which I sat ; but my real object being 
 to get my victim completely into my toils, the money must 
 be got out of Jier, for men may do very bad things from 
 impulse or necessity, but they cannot be considered 
 geniuses, or master minds, in wickedness unless every 
 villainy is premeditated, and made a matter of profound 
 and cold-blooded calculation. Well, of course, with such 
 a silly wife, that little point would be very soon achieved." 
 
 With reference to this trip to Italy, mentioned 
 above, Lady Lytton writes elsewhere : — 
 
 " He had been intriguing with a Mrs. R , and her 
 
 husband's relatives were so scandalised at the way they 
 affichc'd themselves that they insisted upon the scandal 
 
DOMESTIC TROUBLES. 83 
 
 ceasing. For a few days he became most suspiciously- 
 kind and cajoling to me, and then I was ordered, at six 
 hours' notice, to get ready to go to Italy. Suspecting the 
 dessojis des cartes, I told him so, whereupon he knelt down 
 and took the most solemn oaths that everything was at an 
 
 end between him and Mrs. R . But the next day we had 
 
 not been an hour out in the Channel, when this woman 
 appeared reclining on a bench on the deck, and he sitting 
 at her feet fanning her, while her husband sat by smoking 
 his cigar. Before leaving England, I could not get a 
 farthing from him to pay the house bills, which amounted 
 to ^540, and as in Italy he spent as many thousands on 
 pictures and statues, he came back in such an impecunious 
 state as to be like a raving madman, as my poor cheek for 
 months could testify." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bulwer returned to England early 
 in the year 1834, and lived together at 36, Hertford 
 Street, until July of the same year, when the gross 
 personal outrage to which reference has already 
 been made led to the first mention of a separation 
 between husband and wife. After this exploit 
 Mr. Bulwer retired to the Castle Hotel, Richmond. 
 
 Lady Lytton writes : — 
 
 " The ' provocation ' I gave this man was this : upon 
 his asking me with whom I was going to the christening 
 of Mr. Fonblanque's child that night, and I replying, 
 * With Lady Stepney,' he then repeated as fast as he 
 could, a dozen times running, ' My mother calls her 
 that ugly old woman.' He then called out, ' Do you 
 hear me, Madam.?' 'Of course I hear you.' 'Then 
 
 why the in don't you answer me ?' ' I did not think 
 
 it required an answer.' ' D your soul, Madam ! ' he 
 
 exclaimed, seizing a carving knife (for we were at dinner, 
 and he had told the servants to leave the room till he rang), 
 and rushing at me, cried, ' I'll have you to know that when- 
 ever / do you the honour of addressing you, it requires an 
 
84 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 answer ! ' I said, ' For God's sake, take care what you are 
 about, Edward ! ' He then dropped the knife and, springing 
 on me, made his great teeth meet in my cheek, and the 
 blood spurted over me. The agony was so great, that my 
 screams brought the servants back, and presently Cresson, 
 the cook, seized him by the collar ; but he broke from him, 
 and seizing one of the footmen's hats in the hall, rushed 
 down Piccadilly. 
 
 " After his sanguinary exploit, he had taken himself off . 
 to Richmond. I, like a fool, went down to forgive him, 
 not indeed for his sake — for I cordially despised him — but 
 for that of my then baby children. Of course I found 
 that he had no earthly thought of selling everything up 
 and going abroad ; he had been boating about the Thames, 
 amusing himself, and was in treaty for the purchase of 
 Lady Dysart's villa." 
 
 Lady Lytton writes further in " Nemesis" : — 
 
 " I knew very well that I should bring the fool to my 
 side, after her usual fashion of ridiculous and overwrought 
 generosity, reversing the relative positions and taking all 
 the blame upon herself. She did come, forgave all, brought 
 me back, never reproached me except with her tied-up face, 
 which was tied up for some weeks, and was what the French 
 would have called a reprocJie sanglante. But though she 
 never hinted at such a thing, I felt she must despise me for 
 the mock generosity of having pretended to leave her 
 everything, and the lie about having arranged all with the 
 lawyer, when in reality I had not the slightest idea of 
 doing anything of the sort, and had been boating about the 
 Thames, amusing myself, and in treaty for the purchase of 
 a villa." 
 
 " Like a fool," elsewhere writes Lady Lytton, " even 
 this I hushed up and condoned for my then baby children's 
 sake, to be, in less than two years after, turned with them 
 out of our home to make way for one of his legion of 
 mistresses, and implacably hunted through the world ever 
 since." 
 
THE wife's appeal. 8S 
 
 Mr. Bulwer rewarded his wife's generosity and 
 forbearance by sending her off to Gloucester with the 
 children, from which place she writes in November 
 1834 : " I have now been here four months — alone." 
 During her stay at Gloucester Mrs. Bulwer wrote the 
 following two letters, copies of which have been 
 preserved. They will further explain the painful 
 circumstances already alluded to, and the reader 
 must judge for himself of their weight in contradic- 
 tion of the very different statements to which they 
 are opposed. 
 
 Copy of a Letter in Mrs. Bulwer's Handwriting, 
 FROM Gloucester. 
 
 [The wife's appeal.] 
 
 " About the end of November 1834. 
 
 "To say that your letter of this morning- has wounded, 
 galled, lacerated me to the quick, is to say nothing ; but 
 as I can only look upon it as the will of God that I should 
 be so treated, persecuted, and afflicted, I shall endeavour to 
 humble myself to ' His will,' and bear it as I ought, not, 
 indeed, without at first, I fear, great repining, but eventu- 
 ally, I hope, submitting patiently. 
 
 " If what you have been told about Mrs. S and Mrs. 
 
 W be true, I am certainly a very unfortunate person, 
 
 and might claim pity, even from my husband ; but having 
 met them both in very respectable, though second-rate 
 houses, I could not even have formed a suspicion of their 
 impropriety ; but I am peculiarly unhappy in my female 
 acquaintance, for since I have returned to England, I 
 have often been asked * how I could possibly have 
 travelled to Paris with such a woman as Mrs. R. S T 
 
 " In answer to your questions about my having acquainted 
 
 Lady S or Mrs. W. L with our separation, I 
 
 solemnly assure you, or if you prefer it swear to you, that I 
 never have ; the only two letters I have written to Lady 
 S since I have been here were written in a gay strain, 
 
86 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 about herself, her books, and her acquaintance ; the only 
 
 one I have written to Mrs. W. L was in answer to one 
 
 of hers, meant to be very kind, telling me she had heard I 
 was unhappy, and that was the reason she wrote — in reply 
 I said that I had indeed been very unhappy at niy poor 
 dear uncle's death ; the rest of the letter was all about my 
 domestic enjoyment with my children and praises of Miss 
 Greene, which was a quietus, for I have never heard from 
 her since ; nor am I likely to do so, for, previous to my 
 leaving town, I thought she had behaved very unkindly to 
 me, though you did tell me, coming home from L"^ Hertford's 
 last ball, 'that you thought I had behaved d — d ungrate- 
 fully to her,' which I was not only hurt, but surprised at, 
 considering you had so often expressed a dislike to my 
 associating with her. For the rest, not even to your 
 mother (as you seem to dislike her knowing anything quite 
 as much as any one else) have I hinted at our separation in 
 my letters, and so tenacious have I been of appearances on 
 that subject, that I got your pamphlet the moment it was 
 published, that people might think you had sent it to me, 
 and lent it to all the influential people here; and all the 
 political news I heard I said was from you. When I 
 thought there would be a dissolution, I wrote to you from 
 my heart, wishing to serve you ; but you never conde- 
 scended to answer my letter, which I concluded arose from 
 the usual reasons of your being busy and not requiring the 
 services I offered. As to reports, they are nasty things ; 
 they will get about, if there is only a shadow for 
 their foundation. The night you bit my cheek. Lady 
 
 S called in an hour afterwards, to take us to Mr. 
 
 F 's. I was out — God knows what she may have 
 
 heard — perhaps the truth! Edward Bulwer, it might have 
 been worse — you had your hand upon the carving knife — 
 you brandished it at me — and if, instead of lacerating my 
 cheek, you had cut my throat, and in your turn forfeited 
 your life to the laws of your country, you could hardly 
 call that a calumny, or accuse me of having ' grossly 
 injured you.' 
 
 " Now, if you forget all this, I candidly tell you I have 
 
AT GLOUCESTER. 87 
 
 kept all your letters, in which you will scarcely have calum- 
 niated yourself — Edward ! Edward ! put your hand upon 
 your heart, look at home, be above the meanness of infalli- 
 bility, and acknowledge to yourself {\ ask you not to do it 
 to nie^ that for the last year and a half, ever since that 
 business about Mr. Mildmay, you have not acted kindly, 
 justly, humanely, by me. Do this, and to-morrow I will 
 go back to you, and devote my life to making j/(7/^r.y happy, 
 and refuting, or rather annihilating, every report that may 
 have arisen about us. If you would but judge yourself 
 with a J2ist judgment, you would feel that you did owe 
 me (even by your own showing) some reparation. I only 
 know that, had life depended on it, I could not have 
 studied every thought, wish, and even caprice of yours 
 more than I did ; and my reward has been personal ill- 
 usage, unkind words, neglect, shattered health, and a 
 broken heart, upon which, for your respectability's sake, I 
 have always put a smiling appearance. I have now been 
 four months at Gloucester by myself, and I will venture to 
 say that, through me and •my frieud, yowx private character 
 stands as high here as yowx public one does everywhere. 
 
 " As for me, it has been my fate through life to suffer 
 from the conduct of others, not from my own ; but there is 
 this consolation, that even in this world we cannot eventu- 
 ally firmly stattd or wholly fall but by our own conduct 
 alone ; others may, and do for a time, gild or tarnish it, 
 but the reality depends upon ourselves solely. And now 
 
 about appealing to F. D . Surely, surely, you do not 
 
 for a moment suppose my reluctance to do so arose merely 
 from the fear of troubling him, or with the slightest refer- 
 ence to myself I In doing so, I thought oi you, and you 
 only. I am ready and willing to do so immediately, if it is 
 still your wish. You have asked me to give you an acquittal. 
 The fullest, the most unquestionable, and above all the most 
 beneficial to you would be my returning to live with, to love 
 you (if you will let me), and to serve you in any and every 
 way I can — this I am willing to do ; but a written acquittal 
 I could not give you, without branding all we have both 
 written with falsehood, which must invalidate anything I 
 
88 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 could say, not only in our own eyes, but those of the 
 world. 
 
 '• I have only to add that not even to Mamma, who has 
 written several times to know how long I meant to remain 
 at Gloucester, have I said a word of our separation. 
 
 " God bless, guide, and forgive you as entirely as I do ! 
 
 " R. L. B. 
 
 " I am very glad to hear by a letter I have just got from 
 Mamma that you are looking better and stronger than she 
 ever saw." 
 
 [True copy.) 
 
 Copy of a Letter from Mrs. Bulwer to her Hus- 
 band, IN HER OWN Handwriting. 
 
 [Left her no earthly hope. — Her seven years' forbearance.] 
 
 "Gloucester, Decetnber i^th, 1834. 
 
 " When you last demanded an acquittal of calumnies 
 that had been set afloat about you, you did not specify 
 what those calumnies were ; therefore how could I refute 
 them } Now that you have told me the infamous reports 
 
 about Mrs. S and her husband, of course I can deny 
 
 them in the solemnest manner, and by telling the exact 
 truth, most fully clear you from so base, so groundless, 
 
 so black a slander. My acquaintance with Mrs. S 
 
 originated in her having found my reticule, with my card- 
 case in it, in a shop, and bringing it to me. A short 
 
 time after I met her at a party at Mrs. D 's. She got 
 
 introduced to me. I thanked her for my bag ; the next 
 day she called ; I saw she was dreadfully vulgar, but did not 
 think that a sufficient reason for hurting her feelings, and after 
 many pressing invitations went out to drive with her. You 
 expressed a great dislike to my knowing her (as, to do you 
 justice, you did to my knowing every one with whom I am 
 acquainted), on the score of her vulgarity, which was of 
 course the only thing you then knew against her, any more 
 than myself. You afterwards went with me to a ball at 
 her house, and there ended the acquaintance. 
 
 " I also here most fully acquit you of being dishonourable 
 and ungentlemanlike, as ill-treating a wife is, I believe, 
 
NO EARTHLY HOPE. 89 
 
 considered neither. As for my keeping your letters, I have 
 been guilty of equal treachery to myself, as I keep copies 
 of all my own that I write to you, for fear I should at any 
 time misstate to you anything I may have formerly said, 
 and I keep yours as, from having so many things to think 
 of, you are apt to forget, and consequently to deny, things 
 and promises you have made to me; there are many in- 
 stances of this short memory ; you recollect the Emperor 
 Claudius after he had ordered his wife to be murdered ! 
 Having quite forgotten the trifling circumstance, he next 
 day sent an angry message to know the meaning of her 
 disrespect to him in not appearing at dinner. So, upon the 
 whole, it was lucky the headsman had the imperial warrant 
 to produce ; and as I stand in the double capacity of wife 
 and executor of your commands, it is doubly necessary for 
 me to retain the proofs of my vindication. 
 
 " It was finding that a seven years' pursuance of this 
 forbearance, this softness, this silence, had failed, that 
 induced me as a forlorn hope to appeal to your justice, 
 your heart, your compassion ; in so doing, I appealed to 
 what does not exist. No wonder, then, that nothing 
 has been the result. Who for seven years has lavished 
 on you the care, the consideration, the early and late 
 attention to your wants, wishes, fame, and well-being, 
 in great things and in small, that I have.^ And who in 
 return has received from you ill-treatment, ingratitude, 
 injuries, and contempt.-' Unfortunately there are reci- 
 procal duties in all our relationships of life, and however 
 individuals concerned may dispense with the share due to 
 them, the world in its judgment of facts will not do so : 
 it would certainly be much more agreeable, and give us 
 more room for gratitude, if every servant in our house 
 would do the work of two, without either food or wages, 
 and bear a great deal of ill-treatment besides ; but it would 
 be hardly reasonable to expect that they should. 
 
 " You have now left me no earthly hope of redress but 
 from the laws of the land. Fatherless, brotherless, almost 
 relationless, your conduct has not perhaps been the most 
 generous and high-minded in the world ; but let that pass. 
 
90 THE LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 It is true I have few influential earthly friends ; but with 
 God and justice on my side, there is still hope, and may be 
 redress, et^^i for Die.'' 
 
 After Mrs. Bulwer's departure from Gloucester, 
 which took place about the spring of 1835, her 
 husband took for her and the children Berrymead 
 Priory, Acton, which I find described in " Nemesis" 
 as follows : — 
 
 " I took chambers in the Albany, and furnished them 
 sumptuously for myself, and took a villa for my wife 
 which had not been inhabited for years, and therefore 
 looked like the very abomination of desolation, the grass 
 growing up to the hall door. Thither I packed her off, 
 and her two children, not allowing her any carriage horses, 
 which was the first retrenchment I made, not simply as a 
 retrenchment, but as a means of keeping my wife safely 
 imprisoned, without the power of getting out ; on arriving 
 at this damp, dreary, desolate place, she found she had not 
 even a bed to lie on ; but the housekeeper told her, with 
 great indignation, that a very sumptuous one of crimson 
 damask, lined with white silk, had been put up the day 
 before, but the upholsterer had returned in a great hurry, 
 saying he had made a mistake, as that bed was for me at 
 my chambers. So again my victim had nothing for it but 
 to kneel to her God upon the rock of resolution and en- 
 durance, and implore Him to send her courage to the end ! 
 There were not wanting plenty of kind friends to tell her 
 the disgraceful way in which I was going on. By this time 
 she had got to despise me for the innumerable lies I had 
 told her, my horrible ostentation, coupled with the most 
 despicable meanness, to say nothing of the petty tyranny 
 I exercised over Uier, like a permanent cat-o '-nine-tails. 
 Thus, love having died a natural, or rather an unnatural 
 death, it had nothing more to suffer. So poor Rosina 
 devoted herself to teaching her children, and making her 
 prison habitable and cheerful, for on the two occasions I 
 had honoured her by going down there, I had vowed I 
 
AT BERRYMEAD. 9 I 
 
 could not remain in such a desolate place, whereupon she set 
 to work and had the library most beautifully and comfortably 
 arranged, and the whole house en suite, which considerably 
 annoyed me, as I wanted some excuse, however shadowy, for 
 absenting myself. One evening, some months after she had 
 been there, I returned (after a two months' absence with 
 my new mistress, whom I had taken over to Paris for her 
 accouchement). It was late, about nine, when I arrived for 
 dinner, and brought a roue k'xtnd with me, that I might not be 
 exposed to the disagreeable risk of a tete-d-tcte with my wife ; 
 for to be alone with those we have deeply injured is always 
 painful to what my Genoa acquaintance Lady Blessington 
 would call 'the highly sensitive refinement of genius! 
 When I went in my wife was teaching our son, a child of five 
 years old, his letters. I merely frowned at the mother and 
 child, bit my lip sharply, and said, 'What! is not that 
 d — d child in bed yet ? ' and then, motioning to my friend, 
 we took ourselves off to the dining-room, where I told my 
 wife she need not follow, for at a glance I perceived that 
 she was guilty of that highest of all high treasons against 
 marital tyranny — tears ! " 
 
 While at Berrymead Mrs. Bulwer wrote the 
 following journal of her monotonous existence. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LIFE AT BERRYMEAD PRIORY. 
 
 " Berrymead Priory, Acton, 
 
 ' ' Dec on ber i^th^ 1 83 5 . 
 " I HAVE always remarked that every one in solitary con- 
 finement, from Baron Trenck down to Fieschi, has taken 
 refuge in a journal, I suppose on the same principle that 
 madmen talk to themselves : they have no one else to talk 
 to ; at all events, it is an innocent substitute for society, 
 with this advantage, that one inflicts one's egotism on no 
 one but one's self, the only human being to whom it would 
 not be obnoxious. So much for the fitness of things. We 
 have had journals from purgatory, vide Fanny Kemble's, 
 begun on board an American steamboat ; but I know of 
 none from the other place, unless the ' Divina Commedia ' 
 can be considered as such. Young D'Israeli has given us 
 • Ixion in Heaven,' with infinite y//cundity, but these are 
 all wide fields to journalise upon, except the Baron's and 
 Fieschi's, with whose may rank the ingenious Frenchman's 
 most ingenious little book 'Le Voyage autour demaChambre.' 
 Now the circumnavigation of one's own room may suit the 
 patient perseverance of a Cook, but I doubt it being palat- 
 able to the enterprising genius of a Columbus, and in life's 
 masquerade we would rather play the part of the latter. 
 But necessity has no law, except that of chamber council 
 in the present instance ; and the only way in solitude to 
 have ' thoughts that breathe ' is to read them aloud as soon 
 as one has written them, and as for ' words that burn,' 
 they are easily secured by committing one's journal to the 
 
 flames as soon as it is finished. Poor M ! how I miss 
 
 her ; the house seems like a body without a soul, now 
 that she is gone, and I am literally 'alone'! I would fret 
 more about her chances and changes but that I am con- 
 vinced God is as nmch with and for her as she is with 
 
A WASTED LIFE. 93 
 
 and for Him. Poor little Emily too, poor child ! She is 
 happy with her little friend and companion. This is as 
 it should be ; we ought to get a little happiness on account 
 in childhood ; it prevents fate being too much in arrears 
 to us. What a life has mine been ! A sunless childhood ; 
 a flowerless youth ; and certainly a fruitless womanhood, 
 the few good qualities I possess utterly wasted or rather 
 despised. I hate looking back on the last eight years of 
 my life ; I so thoroughly despise myself for having wasted 
 so much affection, zeal, and devotion on so zvortJdess an 
 object. I forgot that nothing ever takes root in a stone 
 but weeds; those of pride and selfishness are rooted there 
 with a vengeance, and yet the eternal complaining of want 
 of sympatJiy ! Sympathy must be given before it can be 
 received,] ust as respect must be paid before it can be expected 
 in return. Above all, sympathy, like electric fluid, must 
 find a corresponding vein before it can be communicated, 
 and therefore self-love annihilates all sympathy, because 
 self-love is indivisible. It would amuse me if I were not 
 
 sick at heart to hear , who cannot remain two days at 
 
 home, and who, the moment he for a short interval dis- 
 mounts from the whirlwind of his ambition, instantly busies 
 himself in providing some new and solitary enjoyment, which 
 would be marred for him if another shared it, complain, 
 like a poor domestic, home-rid man, of having his house- 
 hold gods shivered about him, and his hearth devastated, 
 because he has the misfortune to be tied to one who does 
 not think it an all-sufficient honour to share his name, in 
 perfect and uninterrupted loneliness, or to see him at 
 distant intervals, when, like a sea-captain, he puts in 
 occasionally to his home harbour, and makes his house 
 like a tavern, with a few boon companions, eating, 
 drinking, smoking, then blustering about the bills, and 
 ofif again, till convenience or necessity once more drives 
 him homeward. 
 
 " I could not help smiling the other day at dinner, 
 
 when Mr. R told us of Mr. N having said 
 
 that were he to marry again, he would not marry a ' show 
 wife,' at 's remarking that it showed what a sensible 
 
94 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 man N was ; not so sensible as himself after all, for 
 
 N does not prevent his wife from opening her lips 
 
 or writing books, and, moreover, he does not shut her 
 up in the country without horses, which would be the 
 most effectual way of preventing her ' outglaring ' him 
 in personal appearance, as she is so handsome, and he 
 
 so much the reverse. The epithets is so fond of 
 
 applying to women always anger and disgust me. When 
 
 Mr. H was pitying the usage Mrs. F had 
 
 received from her husband, added, in his usual well- 
 bred way, ' Oh ! that is the story of the d — d woman's 
 friends.' Tlie sort of mother a man has had may, gene- 
 rally speaking, be pretty correctly known by the estimate 
 he entertains of her sex. There are two kinds of mothers 
 who invariably engender in their sons a respect for woman. 
 One is the woman of superior intellect, properly evinced 
 in the education of her children, and concealed in the 
 presence of her husband. The other is one who without 
 many intellectual advantages possesses that sort of moral 
 pre-eminence and right-mindedness which, proved by every 
 act of her life, induce her sons to believe, and rightly too, that 
 a good woman is the best counsellor and friend that a man 
 can have. On the other hand, if a man can only think 
 of his mother's understanding with contempt, and her 
 caprice with disgust, he is wondrously apt to confound 
 all the rest of the sex with her, while the very vices her 
 own imbecility has so carefully nurtured, the vanity she 
 has manured with flattery, and the selfishness she has 
 grafted with jealousy, all conspire to choke even the faint 
 impulses of tenderness towards herself that nature might 
 have implanted in him ; and, with characteristic wisdom, 
 she is the first to deplore and wonder at the result of her 
 own work, the worst part of which is that she, the cause of 
 all the mischief, only suffers from it in a minor degree, for it 
 is reserved to some wretched wife to become its victim. 
 My boy is but four years old ; he came this morning 
 praising himself for having kept some grapes and given 
 them to his nurse. I told him he had better not have been 
 guilty of this piece of generosity if he thought so much 
 
AT BERRYMEAD. 95 
 
 of it as to boast about it. He had been reprobated hitherto 
 for being a selfish child, and sharing with no one, so he 
 stared at me, and did not seem to know what I meant. 
 No matter ; I hope he will fully understand it and act upon 
 it by the time he is twenty. I'm sure the secret of form- 
 ing really estimable, lovable characters is not to praise 
 children for doing right, but to make them very much 
 ashamed of doing wrong, for we have daily experience 
 that many persons are extremely tenacious of their charac- 
 ters who are not at all particular as to their conduct. 
 
 "I dread going to bed, for there this gnawing pain and 
 low fever consume me. I cannot sleep, and therefore 
 cannot dream, which makes loneliness doubly lonely, 
 for dreams are a sort of phantasmagoria of life : they are 
 kind things, for even if horrid, we wake, and are so thank- 
 ful it was bnt a dream, taking it all as a jest on the part 
 of Somnus, a vianvaise plaisantcrie certainly, but then he 
 is but a benighted half-witted creature ; whereas if they 
 are happy ones, they are to us sleeping what letters are 
 to us waking, and bring tidings of those we love from 
 the happy, sunny past into that miserable, barren little 
 segment of life — The Present ! 
 
 " Monday, December i^th. — A letter from dear M and 
 
 the money. I'm sorry it is too late, for I am silly enough 
 
 to be disappointed at 's disappointment ; but of course 
 
 he got what he wanted, or he would not have set off 
 
 " What's this ? an illegible scrawl from that little 
 
 H. B . More about the cloak ! which has not, however, 
 
 made its appearance, and of course never will, for to 
 promise is his mode of giving ; not that it is any loss to 
 me, for I am sure Hercules was not more uncomfortable in 
 his poisoned shirt, than I should be in wearing anything 
 that came from him. 
 
 " What a blessing it is to me that Mrs. is not in 
 
 town, and thinking it necessary to make me one of her 
 periodical, ceremonious, truly professional mean-nothing, 
 do-nothing visits, flattering up the children, and making 
 fools of them for a whole week after, though they have the 
 sense to ask if she was not iauszhingr at them ! Her senti- 
 
g6 THE LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 ments give me a perfect idea of the third echo at Killar- 
 ney, which is but the ecJioed echo of an echo. She is, God 
 bless her, the most unmitigated goose I ever met ; I wonder 
 how I can keep my countenance, for the style and turn of 
 our conversatio7i always forcibly remind me of the words 
 of poor H 's song of the jackdaws. 
 
 (Air, Le Petit Tambour. ) 
 
 " ' Said an old jackdaw 
 
 To a young jackdaw, 
 As they was a-walking together, 
 
 Says the old jackdaw 
 
 To the young jackdaw, 
 " I think it's wery fine weather." ' 
 
 " Poor little Ted told me a piece of sentiment de sa part 
 to-day, which, if worked by a skilful lover into a sonnet 
 to his mistress, would not in tenderness and delicacy be 
 exceeded by anything Boccacio ever felt towards his 
 PMametta, or Petrarch ever invented about Laura. He 
 said he went every morning to feed the birds at his sister's 
 window. I asked him why he did not feed them at his 
 own nursery window .'' ' Oh ! ' said he, * because I wish 
 dem to tink dat Emily still feeds dem, for she has fed dem 
 so long, dat dey must love her de best, and dey might not 
 eat de crumbs if dey thought she was gone ! ' For four 
 years old, qa ne va pas mal. I can think of nothing better 
 than this, and so will leave off. 
 
 " Tuesday, i^th. — No letters. I have sent off the 
 
 books and basket to , and such a regal-looking, 
 
 profuse bunch of dear sweet Neapolitan violets as 
 an English December seldom produces. So she, I hope, 
 will at least have half an hour's pleasure in unpack- 
 ing the basket, eating the fruit, and kissing the violets 
 — at least, I suppose she will kiss them — as I always 
 do ; and they are such double darlings to come in 
 this black, atrocious, Newgate- looking weather. A propos 
 of darlings, there is the queen of them all, that dear 
 dog Fay ; no wonder I doat upon her as I do : the little 
 creature, with her big, loving, diamond eyes, seems to think 
 
A FAVOURITE DOG. 97 
 
 it incumbent on her to make up to me for the rest of the 
 world, for she not only sings her Mazurka with double the 
 alacrity she used to do, but sits up, or rather walks about, 
 on her hind paws all the time, so emulating Taglioni, as 
 well as Grisi, which she never did before ; and when I cry, 
 the little silver silken paws are instantly round my neck, 
 and the little velvet head under my chin, and then the 
 little low sympathetic moan, and every canine consolation 
 she can think of Then the game of teetotum with 
 
 T , and the way she knocks it down with her paw (as 
 
 if to enter into the spirit of the game) when we say, ' Which 
 number will Faizey have?' And yet some fools wonder I 
 should love that dog ; ay, that do I, and the more that 
 she is a dog of character, and has ' a lick ' for those she 
 loves, and ' a snap ' for those she hates. I have been 
 casting up my bills — no friends — and am not so badly off, 
 
 after all, for I have one certain, dear M , who has been 
 
 tried and proved so often, as to be quite suspicion-proof. 
 Then I think dear really loves me, though I have some- 
 times thought she was too happy and too well off, as far as 
 this world goes, to be capable of paying the tax of genuine 
 friendship, great self-sacrifice on all occasions, but her last 
 letters have been very kind, very genuine, and very consola- 
 tory ; and to have time to think even of poor me, in that 
 paradis des fcvimes, much more to write me such long 
 affectionate letters, is certainly friendship put to one of 
 its tests. Her faults she has borrowed from others, which 
 must be their excuse ; but her youngness of feeling and 
 singleness of disposition are her own, and they must have 
 been of the nature of the asbestos to have gone unscathed 
 through the fiery ordeal of prosperity and pleasure ; but 
 like many others, she will never get the credit she deserves, 
 for she acts better than she talks, a great mistake in the 
 present era, when cant and quackery are the 'open Sesame ' 
 
 to character and reputation. Poor too ! I once 
 
 thought her very staunch to me, and returned her supposed 
 affection with all sincerity, as is my wont. Mais qui sait? 
 As a burnt child dreads the fire, so do I dread, or rather, 
 doubt, all the ' irritable tribe ; ' then the insufferable volto 
 
 7 
 
98 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 sciolto, gli pcnsieid of them all, which is, and ever has been, 
 their distinguishing badge, to say nothing of their flattery 
 to one's face and their treachery to one's back : they are 
 perfect beehives — all honey if you take their works, all 
 stings if you come in too close contact with themselves. 
 One can't have a greater type of an autlior's insincerity, 
 carried to a pitch of sublimity, than Voltaire's saying to 
 Swift that reading his (the Dean's) works made him 
 ashamed of his own ! He could not think this, nor indeed 
 could any one else. One only wonders, that the insincerity 
 of his natiwe could have been so much more powerful, 
 than the vanity of his at't ; but the mystery is solved when 
 one remembers, that he said this at the conclusion of that 
 letter which he had begun by requesting Swift's exertions 
 in getting up an Irish subscription for the Henriade ! 
 
 " Wednesday, i6th. — A letter from . Not a word 
 
 about the violets, and too many about the books and 
 the theatricals, but real generosity never does ensure 
 gratitude. I would rather have had a tooth out, than 
 part with a violet at this time of the year, much less 
 such a bunch ! and therefore of course I am not thanked 
 for them ; whereas the Spanish melon, which was a 
 
 complete B r gift, given merely because I did not 
 
 want it, or know what to do with it, was received like 
 an heir-apparent. I am called away to Thomas Millar, 
 the English Burns and Nottingham basket-maker. Well, 
 I have seen him ; in person he is like a hazel-nut ; said 
 the pooblic had indeed appreciated his works (for a 
 moment I was in the basket, and did not know whether 
 he meant literary or wicker), but soon discovered it was 
 the former, as he had the authorly egotism strongly upon 
 him, and seemed to labour under what Pope and Swift 
 so bitterly complained of in Gay, and which the latter 
 designated as 'a painful intenseness about his own 
 affairs.' He deprecated the illiberality of the reviews 
 raking up his and Burns' sphere of life, and therefore 
 only praising them comparatively. I said, that of course 
 genius, to attain the highest rank, neither required to pass 
 through college nor the Herald's Office, but that were I 
 
THE POET MILLAR. 99 
 
 he, I could easily pardon any missiles directed at me 
 that were at the same time aimed at Burns, as, though it 
 might, with true critical spleen, be killing two birds with 
 one stone, yet it showed they were considered ' birds of 
 a feather,' and that, in my opinion, was honour enough 
 for any man. He said he had had ' a very sweet ' (that 
 was his phrase) letter from Moore, and had seen all the 
 live authors worth seeing, from my Sposo downwards ; 
 but that it had not at all turned his brain ! (No, to be 
 sure, for he had only seen them !) Next to his own 
 poems he spoke more con mnore about Newstead Abbey, 
 Lord Byron and his Mary (Mrs. Musters), than anything 
 else ; he said her beauty was perfectly angelic and 
 unearthly, and that her husband was a perfect brute. 
 Cela va sans dire if sJie was an angel. He talked 
 fanatically about woods and flowers and violets ; yet he 
 never even noticed mine, that were breathing out their 
 purple souls from their golden baskets round the room. 
 Oh, those violets ! I'm sure I shall fight a duel about 
 them yet ! He said when he had written for many hours 
 together, he could neither eat nor sleep, and could not 
 account for the throbbing pulses and burning pains in, 
 his head. I told him that I could, for that the body was 
 a sort of wife to the mind, and would not allow it to ^o 
 gadding, amusing itself and others, and reaping fame 
 and profit, to the eternal injury of Jier health from want 
 of exercise and starvation, without twitting and worrying 
 him when he at length thought fit to remember her 
 existence, ' whereat,' like Queen Elizabeth, while pocket- 
 ing the Countess of Suffolk's over-rich comfit cake, he 
 'waxed exceedingly merry.' He would not eat anything, 
 but said he would take some * purple ' {yiilgo red) wine. 
 When I gave it to him he said, ' Thank you kindly. Lady ; 
 my respects to you, and my respects to you, pretty little 
 master.' On which, like a little cub of four years old 
 
 as he is, T burst out laughing. Millar then wrote a 
 
 very pretty sonnet in my album, for which I thanked 
 him much ; and I bought five baskets which he had 
 brought with him. He then took leave, yet still he 
 
100 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 lingered, and when he at length reached the door 
 returned (very gratuitously, as I thought) to tell me the 
 only vice he had was smoking ! and that he could not 
 conceive why most authors were so much addicted to it. 
 I said I supposed it was to ensure themselves plenty of 
 puffs, whereat he laughed afresh, thinking, doubtless, 
 that this execrable pun came from his namesake's em- 
 porium. Poor man ! he wished much for Tennyson's 
 poems, which he said he was not able to buy, so I have 
 sent them to him, and since dinner have read some of his, 
 parts of which are really beautiful, and there is one line 
 Shakespeare might have put into Puck's mouth, i.e., 
 
 ' The bee went round to tell the flowers 'twas May.' 
 
 I lent him my Florentine basket that kind, agreeable 
 Mr. Landor gave me at Fiezole, filled with those delicious 
 figs, gathered from his beautiful gardens, in the sunniest 
 nook of the Val d'Arno. The very shape of the 
 basket breathes of Boccacio. Millar was enchanted 
 with it, and hoped to make a fortune by imitating it. 
 
 T said a very good lesson to-day, and read a story 
 
 about a lion who did not eat a dog; the story ended by 
 saying, 'And ever after the lion and the dog lived on 
 very friendly terms together.' I asked him if he knew 
 what ' living on friendly terms ' meant ; he considered for 
 a moment, and then said, * Yes ; I'm sure Faizey and 
 Juno will never live on friendly terms todeder, for Faizey 
 snaps at Juno to this day.' 
 
 " ijih December. — In too great pain to write, and 
 nothing to write about. 
 
 " \%th. — A letter from dear M , which I have 
 
 answered. A note from Mr. R , with his book, 
 
 the note beginning, ' My dear Mrs.,' and saying that 
 he cannot bring himself to address me with form ! so 
 it appears, for this is free enough, God knows. The 
 wonderful cloak has at length arrived, and is worthy of the 
 donor ; in a place like London he must have found it 
 difficult to get so shabby a one, but it is the idiosyncracy 
 of genius to overcome great difficulties ; it is a mile too 
 
A SENSATIONAL NOVEL. lOI 
 
 short. However, I may console myself on the old Joe Miller 
 reflection, that it will be long enough before I get another ! 
 I am now going to read Mr. R 's book. 
 
 " 19///. — I am too ill to write, or do anything but lie down 
 and die — if I could, but that would be too happy a release 
 for me. 
 
 "20lk. — I have read Mr. R 's book ; it is extremely well 
 
 written, but quite too horrible; there is, however, one 
 masterstroke of knowledge of human nature in it : in 
 describing that most odious character the parricide's father, 
 he says, 'He neither possessed any positive virtue, nor 
 positive vice ; and I know of but two words that will 
 accurately describe him — he was eminently selfish and 
 insensible! In these two sentences all his atrocities are 
 fully accounted for, the first being the Alpha and Omega 
 of all vice, and the latter a barrier which no virtue ever 
 passes ; but still I think (as I told him) the moral of such 
 powerful materials would have been more subtle, and 
 infinitely more useful, had he made both father and son 
 equal monsters, equal destroyers of their own and others' 
 happiness, and still kept them within the pale of the law, 
 for then it would have been sufficiently vraisemblable to 
 have borne a comparison with the dire hourly and daily 
 realities of life, all rising out of the same sources, 
 parental neglect, selfishness, egotism, and vanity, let loose 
 like so many vicious, unbridled brutes, enacting the part of 
 wild horses to that doomed Mazeppa their possessor's 
 fate! One thing this book convinces me of, i.e., that the 
 writer is a perfect yEneas of a son, though, no doubt, more 
 than half that discriminating monster, the world, will vote 
 him a parricide, and his book an autobiography, actions 
 being of no import whatever, thanks to the omnipotence 
 of the press ; therefore, in order to attain the reputation of 
 great morality, people have only to write books filled 
 with the following claptraps, ' benevolence,' ' philanthropy,' 
 ' virtue,' * civil and religious liberty.' The greatness of 
 nations has always been achieved by the people ! and the 
 greatest happiness of the greatest number, which, being 
 interpreted, means a total and most immoral disregard of 
 
I02 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 the happiness and well-being of any and every indi- 
 vidual. In short, to succeed in this enlightened age, 
 when the march of intellect has billeted even every 
 subaltern mind on that Marquis de Carrabas of our social 
 system public opinion, to seem is everything ; to be is 
 nothing; therefore let all that would propitiate this 
 autocrat follow the example of Glaucus (the son of Hippo- 
 lochus) and forthwith exchange the golden arms of reality 
 
 for Diomedes' brazen ones of assumption. Poor Mr. ! 
 
 complaining of the acrimony of editors and sub-editors, 
 he little knows that those who contrive to mollify them 
 generally play the Quintus Curtius to their own fame — 
 they save it, but they engulf themselves. 
 
 " Poor little T said a very good lesson to-day. He 
 
 really is an uncommonly quick, clever child, and if I can 
 but root out the selfishness, egotism, and vanity, that is 
 already dreadfully deep-rooted, in so young a child (for they 
 actually seem part of his blood, bone, and muscle), I may 
 make a fine creature of him ; if not, I would rather he had 
 been a born idiot, for mere intellect, however highly culti- 
 vated, without an equally cultivated disposition, is but like 
 a brilliant beacon, placed on the summit of a barren and 
 isolated rock, which, by revealing the perilous and 
 miserable void beneath, only warns and repels by that 
 very light which, differently situated, could not fail to 
 vivify and attract. Oh ! when will those who have the 
 training of embryo men and women remember and educate 
 upon this golden maxim : ' que Von est plus sociable et d'un 
 incillcur commerce par le occur, que par V esprit ' ? 
 
 "2ist. — What another dreadful night I have had ! No sleep, 
 and in torture the whole time. My nature must be a happy 
 mixture of asbestos, cast iron, and feline unkillability, 
 for no fever will consume me, no illness break me, and, 
 worst of all, no grief will kill me. 
 
 " Had a note to-night from Count d'Orsay offering me 
 his box at the Adelphi on Thursday ; very good-natured 
 of him to think of me. Answered it in bad French and 
 worse humour, at not being able to avail myself of the 
 offer, for as my lord and master takes such infinite pains 
 
AN INVITATION. IO3 
 
 to assure me that I am older than any of the ladies of 
 thirty-eight and forty now extant, I don't see why I should 
 not have some of the benefits of my antiquity, and issue 
 forth like the Prayer-books {cicj)i privilegid) ; for the sort 
 of life I am compelled to lead, I might as well have the mis- 
 fortune to be a beauty of fifteen. So had I been well 
 enough, I should certainly have accepted the box, as I am 
 
 sure Mrs. L. S or Mrs. W would have been 
 
 delighted to have gone with me. 
 
 " This evening read Swift's character of Mrs. Johnson 
 (Stella), and never was much more disgusted in my life ; 
 I have, in common with other sages, always prayed Heaven 
 to defend me from xxvy friends, but by this it would appear, 
 one ought to extend the petition to one's lovers. 
 
 " Tuesday morning, December 22nd, 1835. — Another dread- 
 ful night — no sleep, and pain than which, I'm sure, the rack 
 cannot be worse. A letter of tender inquiries from the 
 
 poor D 's ; they really are what J. C. B said wives 
 
 were, i.e., clean, cheap, and thankful : clean, for they write 
 on the nicest of all possible paper ; cheap, for I never have 
 to give them above two dinners a year ; and thankful, since 
 for those they are grateful. What's this .■* another letter, and 
 comes to one shilling and fourpence ; it is too costly, with 
 its large seal and all. Ha ! ha ! ha ! an invitation from 
 
 H. B to go to B ; a promise of an opera-box and 
 
 a seat at church ! with an apology for coupling them. ' No 
 offence, sir,' for, as I have told him in my answer, I merely 
 look upon it as one of those little confusions that he and 
 his brother Radicals are eternally making between the vox 
 
 populi and the vox Dei. He goes on to say, ' M ■ may' 
 
 (well-bred this) ' accompany me as a chaperon //"she likes.' 
 I am sure both the invitations are given in perfect sincerity, 
 from the conviction that they will not be accepted ; how- 
 ever, I ought to be grateful, as it is by far the best attempt 
 he has yet made at kindness and sincerity, to say nothing 
 
 of the laugh it has given me to envisagcr dear M and 
 
 myself, first, en route for the Island of Calypso ! next our 
 arrival ! Then my conjectures as to whether his Penseroso 
 Majesty of would recognise in the portly (for I won't call 
 
104 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 myself by any more disadvantageous name) matron of past 
 twenty-eight the girl of nineteen that he used to call ' the 
 dark-haired sylph.' No, most assuredly, for there is z.fat- 
 ality attends me in all things noiv. And then what fun we 
 
 would have in writing to dear M. A and Blurt, who, I 
 
 daresay, would tell us, out of envy, that we were two women 
 ' slie had not the slightest respect for ' ! It seems quite omi- 
 nous that I should have been reading ' The Impossible 
 Enchantment ' and ' The Palace of Ideas ' just before I got 
 this epistle. Could I have achieved this exploit, it would 
 have been delicious, even in my mind's eye, to have seen 
 my lord and master's face when he returned, and found that 
 'Est il possible!' herself was gone off. The plot thickens ; 
 a brace of pheasants and a hare from head-quarters. Went 
 out for the first time these ten days ; described to the 
 gardener about making the flowerpots into baskets, and 
 dug the first circle of the Northern Star myself; kissed and 
 talked to poor darling Fiddlestick, who licked my hand, 
 rubbed his innocent head against me, bleated, and, in short, 
 appeared more delighted to see me, than any other relation 
 I have in the world. Came home ; had a greater bevy 
 than ever of robins in the room, and that fat red-hooded 
 cardinal of a fellow, that always eats the most, and flies 
 upon the bed and even upon Faizey's head of a morning, 
 
 jumped upon my shoulder. The Misses W called ; 
 
 I like the eldest very much, there is something so kind- 
 hearted about her ; they asked me to spend the day to- 
 morrow : I am not well enough ; they bespoke me for New 
 
 Year's Day ! have promised if I am able. Kept T up 
 
 till half-past seven ; he is growing lovingly fond of me. 
 " Read Mr. Willis's 'Pencillings by the Way,' and very racy 
 and pleasant they are ; all about Austria is cordial and spicy, 
 like mulled Burgundy in December, and then all about the 
 yEgean is perfectly delicious, like iced lemonade at the Cafe 
 della Fiore at Venice. Poor man ! how well one can enter 
 mto his feelings on beholding Ionia for the first time, his 
 head full of Homer, and his heart full of Byron. Then 
 landing, and the first sounds that salute his ears to be from 
 a Mrs. Flack, an English greengrocer : ' Sir, it is zvery 'ot; 
 
DREAMS OF NAPLES. IO5 
 
 von't you 'ave a glass of water ? ' Alas ! alas ! is there not 
 always a veiy hot or very cold upon the realisations of 
 our brightest imaginings ? Yet still had he to go farther and 
 fare worse, ' Oh ye Athenians,' to find the Byron-loved, 
 the Moore-sung, the matchless Teresa Makri, in short the 
 immortal ' Maid of Athens,' turned into Mrs. Black, the 
 better half of a respectable Scotchman, with no earthly 
 mitigation of her crime but the acquisition of a Scotch 
 terrier uho bit at the Yankee tourist's heels as he entered 
 her sacrilegious abode ! 
 
 " Played on the guitar for an hour, and sang many songs 
 I had heard or dreamt. A blaze sprang up in the fire, and 
 fell full upon the picture of Napoli di Posolippo. I flung 
 down the guitar. Again was I returning from the dear 
 balmy, happy, sunset drive on the Strada Nova ; again did 
 I feel the soft breeze on my cheek from across the bay, 
 freighted with a warm kiss from Vesuvius ; again did I 
 
 cast my eye along the Ciaja, and as I saw Lord H 's 
 
 palazzo, where the ball was to be held at night, call to 
 poor stupid, often scolded, but still more often regretted 
 Francesco P^irmate alia casa di Jacopo Tonere Rivieradi 
 Ciaja, to order another wreath, with more myrtle and fewer 
 roses. Ah! Naples, dear Naples, you are tue ojily place in 
 which I cvQY felt young (for I did not do so as a child), and 
 what was the result ? did I commit more follies .'' No. 
 'Mais qui vit sans folie n^ est pas si sage qii il pense! 
 
 " 2ird. — A letter from dear M poor M ! — and a 
 
 letter from Mr. B , overflowing with morbid sensibility 
 
 for himself and repudiating me ! Be it so. How foolish 
 it is of me to let these reptiles irritate me as they do, nor 
 would I but that with their abominable assumption of know- 
 ledge and superiority, they have the power of crushing and 
 injuring me every moment. Our Saviour even seems to 
 have had the same contempt for their species in His time, 
 for at the beginning of the Christian era, Plato and Epicurus 
 found amongst the Pharisees and Sadducees their chief 
 followers, and against them are all Christ's animadversions 
 directed. St. Paul, too, than whom no man was better 
 versed in Grecian literature, philosophy, and science, such 
 
I06 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 as it then was, had an equal contempt for those pseudo- 
 sages, who affected to assert that ' Virtue ' was the chief 
 good, without being able to decide ivJiat virtue was, or 
 fix it into an immutable standard, as it varied, according 
 to the passions or perceptions of its votaries, from health 
 to riches, and from riches to honour, and St. Paul especially 
 warns Timothy to ' avoid profane and vain babblings, and 
 oppositions of science falsely so called ; ' and, again, he 
 cautions the Colossians to ' beware lest any man spoil them 
 through philosophy and vain deceit.' Like St. Paul, I know 
 them too well, so am in no danger, further than my temper 
 is concerned, unless indeed Paraciades (the fisherman in 
 Lucian), who knew so well how to bait his hooks for this 
 infinitely small fry, were to come and angle for me, as 
 he did for the philosophers, with gold and figs ; then indeed 
 I might be caught, for I have as great a craving for the 
 former as any reforming patriot now extant, and am as fond 
 of the latter as any beccafica in all Italy. How oftan 
 
 I make a resolution (only to break it) that these B s 
 
 shall not anger me. There is nothing so horrible as hatred, 
 except being hated, which is perhaps worse, inasmuch as 
 there is something very infectious in one's own unpopu- 
 larity, that puts one out of conceit with one's self, and this 
 is one reason why women are always pleased at, and 
 grateful for, being loved, even if they cannot love in return ; 
 it makes them of consequence in their own eyes, just 
 as some persons value a cat's eye — the .ugliest thing in 
 the world — merely because they know there are those who 
 would give twenty guineas for it. It is different with men. 
 Love with them at best is very apocryphal, lust being 
 generally the feeling they dignify with that name, and 
 nine times in ten their vanity leads them to fancy them- 
 selves beloved where they are not even thought of; and 
 when they really have a woman's happiness in their power 
 they seem to consider that the same privilege is attached 
 to it that a child attaches to a new toy, i.e., that of 
 destroying it at discretion. How fond I am of biography! 
 it is like living other people's lives at second-hand, or rather 
 skimming the cream of theirs to enrich the milk and water 
 
SWIFT. 107 
 
 of one's own. I have lately been struggling, and hoping, 
 and dining, and triumphing, and desponding, deceiving, 
 and maddening with Swift. I have been to the printer's 
 with him with the last number of the Examiner, and called 
 on' poor Patty Rolt ' by the way ; who had but ^18 a year 
 to live on, and seen her eyes sparkle at the 'guinea, which 
 patched up twenty things;' I have returned to the Thatched 
 House, dined with the Lord Treasurer, Mr. Secretary 
 St. John, Dr. Arbuthnot, and the Duke of Ormond, 
 laughed at the suppressed lampoon on the Duchess of 
 Somerset, drunk some of the ' flask of the grand Duke's 
 wine,' sent for my Lord Keeper, waited in vain for his 
 return from the House, and so crossed over to sup with 
 Lady Masham on ' boiled oysters and scraps of private 
 news about the Queen, who hath been confined for the 
 last few days with the gout in her hand.' Then I have 
 walked home (in spite of the Mohawks), stood by 
 while ' Patrick ' was being sirrahed and cudgelled for 
 his hundred and fifty-fourth achievement in ine- 
 briety ; that over, I've held the candle while the Dean 
 wrote lies to Stella of loving her better than his life, 
 while he was daily telling Miss Vanhomeigh the same 
 thing, and summing up the evidence in 'the little lan- 
 guage ' till the candle has gone out. As for my idol Pope, 
 I am afraid Lady M. W. Montagu was right, that he was 
 Ml pen avare, and a terrible legacy-hunter ; nevertheless, 
 ' I love him hugely,' and really cried that night that we 
 were overturned in my Lord Bolingbroke's ' coach and 
 six,' and that he got immersed 'in the Thames up 
 to the knots of his periwig,' and cut his hand so terribly. 
 Well ! at least he was a paragon of a son, that nobody 
 can deny, and the solicitude with which he attended to his 
 mother makes one forgive the frugality of the dinners at 
 Twickenham, and even the two-pronged forks which drove 
 Swift into the abomination of eating with his knife, and 
 thereby got him into such disgrace with the Duchess of 
 Oueensbury ; but ' out of evil cometh good,' for this forced 
 him into spending .£^30 on three-pronged forks. Then how 
 well I can fancy the still more scanty suppers, with nothing 
 
I08 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 plentiful but the fruit, which Swift could not, and Arbuth- 
 not would not touch, the early withdrawal of the host, 
 the ' little half-pint of wine/ and his everlasting parting 
 address of ' Gentlemen, I leave you to your wine,' and 
 the Doctor's good-humoured gibe of ' Yes, but you don't 
 leave your wine to us.' Then 1 think I see the conclave 
 examining the broken pen-knife with which Guiscard 
 stabbed Lord Oxford, and their feverish anxiety for his 
 recovery. As for Lord Bolingbroke, I never did, and 
 never can, admire him, and for the ' all-accomplished ' 
 I would read ' all-pretending St. John : ' he was a happy 
 mixture of fop, stoic, statesman, and philosopher ; there 
 was an eternal straining after effect and nothing real about 
 him, not even his scepticism, and his meanness in' depre- 
 ciating the indisputable learning of Bayle, that he, with all 
 the pedantry of a Scaliger, might the more safely crib from 
 him, disgusts and provokes one ; his letters in exile 
 are so overlaid with laboured classical quotations, that they 
 quite destroy the circinatous tone he wishes to affect ; how- 
 ever, I respect him for having once spoken the truth, which 
 was when he said, ' If I must despise riches, let it be 
 with Seneca's purse, for then I shall have the advantage 
 of wealth and philosophy both.' When Sir Walter Scott 
 praises him for his active zeal in obtaining for Swift the 
 ^1,000 from the Queen, during the three days of his ad- 
 ministration, which his friend Lord Oxford had failed to 
 get for him in so much longer a period, he does not seem 
 to perceive that Lord Bolingbroke was spurred on much 
 more by his implacable hatred of Lord Oxford into a wish 
 of outdoing him, than by pure friendship to Swift ; in 
 short, though Lord Chatham, when a young man, was 
 surprised, on going to see Lord Bolingbroke (then an old 
 one) at Battersea, to find him, as he describes, ' pedantic, 
 fretful, and angry with his wife,' I am not the least 
 surprised to hear it, for there was no longer a motive for 
 display^ which had been the governing principle of his 
 life. One of the most unfeeling things I know any- 
 where is a passage in a letter of his to Swift, about a month 
 after Stella's death, in which he says, ' My wife ' (his 
 
SWIFT. 109 
 
 second wife, the Marquise de la Vilette, Madame de Main- 
 tenon's niece) ' writes to you herself, and sends you some 
 fans just arrived from Liliput, which you will dispose of 
 to the present Stella, whoever she be.' Now, considering 
 that Swift, notwithstanding the way in which he had 
 behaved to her, really loved her, and was in a state 
 of distraction at her death, this was perfect brutality 
 on the part of my Lord Bolingbroke ; but some persons 
 are apt to make great mistakes when they take it for 
 granted that others are as unfeeling as themselves. 
 This fan sprightliness is just such a piece of pleasantry 
 
 as H. B would be guilty of, his only ideas of wit being 
 
 profanity or want of feeling. 
 
 " January A^tJi, 1836. — Poor Mamma came in all the frost 
 and snow to see me — very kind of her ; gave me a nice 
 warm shawl, ermine muff, and boa. 
 
 " 6th. — A letter from poor dear Elizabeth. She still 
 continues ill. What a martyr she is ! But like me, if she 
 were dying, I believe she would contrive to laugh at Tommy 
 the Great. His letters from Algiers are indeed as dismal 
 as lettres de cachet. However, Parnassus has two ascents, 
 one sacred to Apollo, the other to Bacchus, and though 
 he may have failed in reaching the summit of the former, 
 he has soared most triumphantly to the pinnacle of the 
 latter. 
 
 '* * So though he's not Valerius Flacchus, 
 He might pass any day for Bacchus.' 
 
 " jfa?inary yth. — Too ill to write. 
 
 '■^February 20th. — My jailer returned with his amiable 
 
 epicurean debauchee friend, Mr. F. V , after a.Jive zveeks 
 
 absence; and ill as I have been, too, he could not be here 
 one day alone, 
 
 " March ist. — From crying, coughing, and violent agita- 
 tion, I have burst a small blood vessel. Oh, my God ! my 
 God ! when will You take me .'"' 
 
 The journal abruptly breaks off here. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FINAL QUARREL AND SEPARATION (1836). 
 
 The end of Mrs. Bulwer's earthly existence was 
 fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, still far distant, 
 but the separation from her husband was approach- 
 ing more rapidly than even she herself could have 
 anticipated. Very soon after the conclusion of the 
 journal at Acton an event occurred which led to a 
 final rupture between the ill-assorted pair. Of this 
 episode I have several accounts ; but I prefer to 
 give Lady Lytton's own version, as written in 
 " Nemesis," adding a few explanatory remarks for 
 the guidance of my readers. Bulwer had promised 
 to dine one night with his wife at Berrymead Priory. 
 She waited until nine o'clock, when a groom arrived 
 in haste with a note saying that he was very ill, 
 and quite unable to leave his chambers. Mrs. 
 Bulwer, fully believing the truth of this statement, 
 at once started for London in considerable alarm, 
 taking with her medicines and other comforts for her 
 ailing spouse. 
 
 "When she arrived at my chambers in the Albany," 
 writes Lady Lytton in " Nemesis," " it was eleven o'clock 
 at night I had purposely sent my man out of the way, 
 so my fool of a wife rang and rang, till, thinking, notwith- 
 standing my soi-disant illness, I must be out, and the 
 servants in bed, she was just about to go away, when I, on 
 
FINAL QUARREL AND SEPARATION. I I I 
 
 my side, supposing these loud rings might herald some 
 note or invitation that I should not like to lose, went to 
 open the door en cJiemise, with my dressing-gown hastily 
 thrown over my shoulders. Upon opening the door, I was 
 for a moment so taken aback at seeing my victim that I 
 actually staggered, while rage and indignation made her 
 stand firm as a rock, as she beheld through the drawing- 
 room door our cosy salver with tea for two on it, and Miss 
 Laura Deacon making a precipitate retreat into the bed- 
 room, but unfortunately dropping, after a Parthian fashion, 
 in her flight, all her arrows, vulgo her bonnet, shawl, etc., 
 on the sofa. 'Good God!' exclaimed I, 'what on earth 
 brought you here V 
 
 " ' Your note, sir, with its circumstantial details of your 
 pretended illness, which, of course, like yourself, was an 
 incarnate lie!' she rejoined, with bitter contempt ; and, so 
 saying, rushed back to her carriage." 
 
 Bulwer's rage and mortification at being detected 
 in this precious intrigue knew no bounds. He had 
 evidently made up his mind to get rid at all hazards 
 of a vi^oman whom he had long since ceased to 
 love, and whose presence reminded him so incon- 
 veniently of the vows he had broken, the outrages 
 and insults of which he had been guilty, and the long 
 series of deceits and infidelities he had practised. 
 Consequently he announced to her that he had 
 finally determined to separate from her at once 
 and for ever. Under these circumstances, there 
 was but one course open to his victim. Her 
 womanly pride forbade her to cringe for forgive- 
 ness to a man who had so cruelly scorned, insulted, 
 and wronged her ; and she was forced to accept the 
 inevitable, and to agree to whatever terms her lord 
 and master might think fit to dictate. Knowing 
 it was useless to appeal for mercy, she wrote the 
 
I I 2 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 following pathetic and dignified letter, which I may 
 recommend to the attention of my readers as con- 
 taining a cogent refutation of the charges of pride, 
 violence, obstinacy, and extravagance, so often and 
 so unjustly ascribed to the character of this much- 
 wronged woman. 
 
 From Mrs. Bulwer to Edward Lytton Bulwer. 
 
 [Her forgiveness. — His banker's account.] 
 
 Undated, hut probably written in April 1836. 
 
 " I thank you for your letter, and am sorry that poor 
 Mary's zeal and kind feelings for me should have offended 
 you ; but be not angry that I have one friend on earth : 
 it is not long that I shall want even that one. For the 
 rest, I do not wish to have blame imputed to any one — 
 that is solely due to me. 
 
 " Upon the first intimation of your casting me off, I did 
 say I would not take less than ^600 a year, for that I could 
 not support and educate my children upon a smaller sum. 
 I felt bitterly, too, at the time, as I had seen your banker's 
 account, by which it appeared I had had £\%0 in eight 
 months, and in six you had spent 2,000 some hundred and 
 odd pounds, and that without appearing to have paid any 
 heavy debts. But these and every other feeling of 1 esent- 
 ment have, thank God, now subsided, and I solemnly 
 assure you, so far from nozv wishing to tax your luxury of 
 getting rid of me at so dear a rate as the sacrifice of half 
 your tangible income, I would not, were my poor little 
 unJiappy children out of the question, under any persuasion 
 take more than ;^20O a year from you ; as it is, I beg 
 explicitly to state that no illness, no want, no privation, 
 shall ever induce me to accept one farthing from you 
 beyond the stipulated £^00'. if\ live, I can make more. 
 
 "And now, do not, I implore you, attribute to vindictive 
 or unforgiving feelings my unalterable determination of never 
 again 'cursing your existence with my presence,' Upon 
 reflection, you must feel convinced that, without any feeling 
 
A FINAL LETTER. II3 
 
 of resentment, no woman of common delicacy, no woman 
 of the most latent and dormant pride could, when once 
 publicly expelled from her husband's house, ever UNDER 
 ANY CIRCUMSTANCES think of returning to it, especially 
 when that husband had spoken of her to a third person 
 in the terms you have of me, for which, however, I most 
 freely and sincerely forgive you. 
 
 " I do not contemplate the possibility of being able to 
 leave this before Midsummer, as, housekeeping being 
 out of the question, it will not be so easy to find the sort 
 of thing I want. I hope you have let this place for a great 
 deal more than you gave for it, as the house, which had 
 not a door or window that would shut, is now in good 
 repair, and the garden, that was knee-deep in weeds when 
 I came here, and destitute of even a potato, is now in 
 perfect order and thoroughly stocked with everything. 
 
 "And now, once for all, may God bless you and prosper 
 you ! May those new ties, which make it indispensable 
 for you to part with me, be to you all that I have failed to 
 be ! May your friends be as zealous in promoting your 
 interests and your comforts as I tried to be, and may they 
 have none of the irritability of temper and easily wounded 
 feelings which in me destroyed and cancelled all my best 
 intentions — in short, may you henceforth be as happy as 
 I have made you the reverse — is the sincere hope and will 
 be the constant prayer of her who was your wife. 
 
 " RosiNA Lytton Bulwer. 
 
 ^' Berry »tead Priory, Acton. " 
 
 At this period, unhappily, Mrs. Bulwer was to 
 all intents and purposes friendless. Near relatives 
 she had none, and of her many acquaintances, no 
 one seems to have had the power or the inclination 
 to save her from being bound by the fetters of a 
 most iniquitous and one-sided deed of separation. 
 This precious document I append hereto, and its terms 
 will doubtless reflect an additional lustre upon Mr. 
 Bulwer's reputation for generosity and unselfishness. 
 
i 1 4 life of lady lytton. 
 
 Copy of Deed of Separation between E. G. E. L. 
 
 BULWER AND ROSINA ANNE BULWER. 
 
 "19 Apfil, 1836. 
 
 " This Indenture, of four parts, made the nineteenth day 
 of April, One thousand eight hundred and thirty-six, 
 Between Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer, of Acton, 
 in the County of Middlesex, Esquire, of the first part, 
 Rosina Anne Bulwer his Wife, of the same place, of the 
 second part, Eliza Barbara Bulwer Lytton, of Knebworth 
 Park, in the County of Hertford, Widow, and the Mother 
 of the said Edward George Earle Lytton, of the third 
 part, and Sir Francis Hastings Doyle, of Wimpole Street, 
 in the said County of Middlesex, Baronet, and The Reverend 
 Sir Thomas Gery CuUum, of Hardwick House, in the 
 County of Suffolk, Baronet, of the fourth part. Whereas 
 unhappy differences have arisen and still subsist between 
 the said Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer and Rosina 
 Anne his Wife, by reason whereof they have agreed to live 
 separate and apart from each other for the future — And 
 whereas the said Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer 
 hath proposed to allow unto or in trust for the said Rosina 
 Anne Bulwer during the said Separation the yearly sum 
 of £400 as a provision for her maintenance and support, and 
 a further yearly sum of ;^50 for each of the two children of 
 the Marriage so long as he, the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, 
 shall consent that each such child shall remain with the 
 said Rosina Anne Bulwer, to enable the said R. A. Bulwer 
 to clothe and maintain them. And for the better and more 
 effectually securing the due and punctual payment of the 
 aforesaid annual sum of ^^400 and the two several sums of 
 ;^50 for each of the said children so long as the same may 
 continue to be payable, the said E. G. E. L. B. Lytton 
 has consented to enter into the covenant hereinafter con- 
 tained for that purpose. Now this Indenture witnesseth 
 that in pursuance and performance of the said Agree- 
 ment on the part of the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, he, 
 the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, Doth covenant, promise, 
 and agree with and to the said Sir F. H. Doyle and Sir 
 
THE DEED OF SEPARATION. I I 5 
 
 T. G. Cullum, their executors and administrators, by these 
 presents in manner following, that is to say, that notwith- 
 standing the Marriage between him, the said E. G. E. L. 
 Bulwer, and R. A. Buhver his wife, it shall and may be 
 lawful to and for the said R. A. Bulwer from time to time 
 and at all times hereafter to live separate and apart from 
 him, the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, in such sort and manner 
 as if she, the said R. A. Bulwer, were sole and unmarried. 
 And that he, the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, shall not nor will 
 compel the said R. A. Bulwer to live with him, the said 
 E. G. E. L. Bulwer, by any Ecclesiastical censures or pro- 
 ceedings or otherwise howsoever. And that she, the said 
 R. A. Bulwer, shall be absolutely and to all intents and 
 purposes whatsoever freed and discharged from the power, 
 command, will, restraint, authority, and government of him 
 the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer. And that it shall and may be 
 lawful to and for the said R. A. Bulwer from henceforth to 
 have, take, and enjoy to her own separate and absolute use, 
 with full power and disposition by Delivery, Deed, or Will, 
 or any writing of a testamentary purport, notwithstanding, 
 her coverture, All such furniture, wearing apparel, jewels, 
 articles, and things whatsoever in the nature of furniture, 
 wearing apparel, and jewels, as now are or which at any 
 time or times hereafter shall be hers or reputed to be hers. 
 And the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer doth further covenant, 
 promise, and agree with and to the said Sir F. H. Doyle 
 and Sir Thomas G. Cullum, their executors, administrators, 
 and assigns, that he, the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, will well 
 and truly pay or cause to be paid unto the said Sir F. H. 
 Doyle and Sir T. G. Cullum, or the survivors or survivor 
 of them, or the executors, administrators, or assigns of such 
 survivor, or unto some one of them, during the said Separa- 
 tion the yearly sum of ^400 of lawful money of the United 
 Kingdom by even and equal quarterly payments on the 
 lOth day of July, the loth day of October, the loth day of 
 January, and the loth day of April, in every year. And 
 shall and will make the first payment on the loth day of 
 July now next ensuing, the day of the date of these pre- 
 sents, without deduction or abatement on any account 
 
Il6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 whatsoever, Upon trust that they do and shall thereout, 
 in the first place, indemnify the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, his 
 executors and administrators, of, from, and against all or 
 any debts, charges, or expenses which shall or may at any 
 time or times during the said Separation be incurred by 
 the said R. A. Bulwer, or which he, the said E. G. E. L. 
 Bulwer, shall or may be liable for or on account or in respect 
 of the said Rosina Anne Bulwer, And subject thereto do 
 and shall, so long only as the said R. A, Bulwer shall live 
 separate from him, the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, and shall 
 not use or take any ways or means to compel him to live 
 with her by any Ecclesiastical censures or proceedings or 
 otherwise howsoever, or molest, interrupt, or disturb him in 
 anywise howsoever, pay the same sum of ;^400 or such 
 parts thereof as shall not be applicable for or towards 
 indemnifying the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer in manner herein- 
 before mentioned by quarterly payments, to be made on 
 the quarterly days hereinbefore mentioned to such person or 
 persons only and for such intents and purposes only as the 
 said R. A. Bulwer shall, notwithstanding her coverture, from 
 time to time by any writing or writings signed by her 
 with her own hand, but not so as to dispose of or affect 
 the same by any sale, mortgage, or charge, or otherwise in 
 the way of anticipation, direct or appoint, And in default 
 of such direction or appointment, into the proper hands of 
 the said R. A. Bulwer for her sole and absolute use exclu- 
 sively of the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer. And the said 
 E. G. E. L. Bulwer doth further covenant, promise, and 
 agree with and to the said Sir F. H. Doyle and Sir T. G. 
 Cullum, their executors, administrators, and assigns, that he 
 the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer will, in addition to the aforesaid 
 yearly sum of ;6^400, well and truly pay or cause to be paid 
 unto the said Sir F. H. Doyle and Sir T. G. Cullum, or the 
 survivors or survivor of them, or the executors, administra- 
 tors, or assigns of such survivor or unto some one of them 
 the yearly sum of ^loo of lawful money of the United 
 Kingdom so long as he, the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, shall 
 consent and agree that both the said children shall remain 
 with the said R. A. Bulwer, and the yearly sum of jCso of 
 
THE DEED OF SEPARATION. I I / 
 
 like lawful money of the United Kingdom when one of the 
 said children shall have ceased to reside with the said R. A. 
 Bulwer, and so long only as he, the said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, 
 shall consent and agree that the other of such children 
 shall remain with the said Rosina A. Bulwer, The afore- 
 said sums of ^lOO or ^^"50, as the case may be, to be paid 
 by even and equal quarterly payments at the days and 
 times hereinbefore mentioned respecting the aforesaid 
 sum of ;^400, Upon trust that they do and shall pay the 
 aforesaid sum of ^100 or ^50, as the case may be, by 
 such and the like quarterly payments as are hereinbefore 
 stated respecting the aforesaid annual sum of ^400 to the 
 said Rosina Anne Bulwer to enable her to clothe and 
 maintain the aforesaid two children, or one of them, as the 
 case may be, during such time as the said E. G. E. L. 
 Bulwer may consent and agree that both or one of the said 
 children shall remain with her, the said R. A, Bulwer. And 
 in pursuance and performance of the aforesaid Agreement, 
 the said Eliza Barbara Bulwer Lytton doth hereby covenant, 
 promise, and agree with and to the said Sir F. H. Doyle 
 and Sir T. G. CuUum, their executors, administrators, and 
 assigns, that when and so often as any or either of the said 
 payments hereinbefore covenanted to be made by the said 
 E. G. E. L. Bulwer shall be in arrear and unpaid for the 
 space of thirty days next after each of the days of pay- 
 ment hereinbefore particularly named, and after demand 
 thereof, she, the said Eliza Barbara Bulwer Lytton, will well 
 and truly pay or cause to be paid unto the said Sir F. H. 
 Doyle and Sir T. G. CuUum, or the survivors or survivor 
 of them, or the executors or administrators or assigns of 
 such survivor, or unto some one of them, during the afore- 
 said Separation, and so long only as the debts of the 
 said R. A. Bulwer shall be fully paid by her and shall not 
 exceed the sum of ^^400 per annum, such sum or sums 
 of money which may be then due and owing by the 
 said E. G. E. L. Bulwer, and to be applied and disposed 
 of according to the true intent and meaning of these 
 presents. 
 
 " In Witness whereof," etc. 
 
I 1 8 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 As will appear from the foregoing, Lady Lytton's 
 trustees were Sir Francis Hastings Doyle and the 
 Rev. Sir Thomas Gery Cullum, and for the benefit 
 of those who are averse to the technicalities of legal 
 language, I may recapitulate the leading provisions 
 of a document which bound my unhappy friend for 
 the term of her natural life, and embittered her re- 
 maining years by the tortures inseparable from a con- 
 dition of abject dependence and grinding poverty. 
 Four hundred pounds a year, payable during his life, 
 is the magnificent sum which Mr. Edward Bulwer 
 thinks sufficient to allow the woman who had been for 
 nine years his faithful and devoted wife, who had 
 endured for the sake of her children his infidelity, 
 violence, and neglect, and whom he had turned out of 
 his house because she had been the unwilling witness 
 of one of his numerous intrigues. Fifty pounds a year 
 is granted to her for each of the two children so long 
 only as it shall suit his wishes that they shall remain 
 in her custody ; and out of this sum she is expected 
 to feed, lodge, clothe, and educate them. She is of 
 course rigidly prohibited from anticipating, mort- 
 gaging, or otherwise charging her allowance, and 
 Mr. Bulwer is careful to protect himself from all 
 liability for any debts which she may afterwards 
 incur. Such were the terms which Mrs. Bulwer 
 was forced to accept from a husband whose income 
 was certainly not less than ^3,000 or ^4,000 a year,* 
 
 * On page 155, Vol. II., of the Life, Lord Lytton writes : " At 
 that time " {i.e., in the third year of their marriage) " she and my 
 father were living in London at the rate of not less than ^3,000 
 a year." At the date of the separation Mr. Bulwer's income must 
 have been considerably in excess of this estimate. 
 
A ONE-SIDED AGREEMENT. II9 
 
 and who, in addition, had expectations of the most 
 definite character of succeeding to the large fortune 
 and estates of his mother. I may add that the 
 income tax was subsequently deducted from this 
 miserable pittance, in spite of the clause which pro- 
 vides against " deduction or abatement." 
 
 In 1857 Lady Lytton writes upon this subject as 
 follows : 
 
 " Surely Lady Cullum cannot forget — or, at all events, 
 if she does, she will remember it on her deathbed — the 
 perfect agony with which I for two hours paced her draw- 
 ing-room at the Green Park Hotel, Piccadilly, saying that 
 I would not sign that infamously one-sided deed, and how 
 she followed me with ' You know, dear, Sir Thomas would 
 not let you do anything against your interests,' until, like 
 a fool, I was at length cajoled and exhausted into doing 
 so, and being then young, and cowed by bodily and chronic 
 fear of that monster, I also dreaded the threat that my 
 children would be taken away from me if I did not sign 
 the deed, for it is through my children he has always 
 tortured me." 
 
 It is certainly difficult to imagine how Sir Francis 
 Doyle could have been induced to agree to the 
 terms offered by Mr. Bulwer ; but his character, as 
 described by Lady Lytton in " Nemesis," may afford 
 some explanation of his strange indifference to her 
 interests : 
 
 " He was an elderly gentleman, who, being one of those 
 thoroughly honourable, high-minded men of the old school, 
 perfectly incapable of shuffle, quibble, or trick himself, but 
 withal of an Anglo-Saxon coldness of heart, was doubly 
 ripe for my cold-blooded scheme, having, moreover, just 
 recovered from a severe paralytic stroke, and therefore 
 being totally divested of even his ordinary very homoeopa- 
 thic quantum of shrewdness." 
 
120 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 The interview between Mr. Bulwer and Sir 
 Francis is thus described in " Nemesis :" 
 
 " I commenced by placing my handkerchief before my 
 eyes, to hide the tears I ought to have, but could not shed ; 
 and said in a tremulous artistically modulated voice : 
 ' My dear sir, I come to you this morning on a painful 
 mission, I need not, I hope, assure you that no one can 
 estimate Rosina's many good and noble qualities more 
 than I do, for nobody can be half so well aware of them 
 as I am ; but unfortunately her temper of late ' 
 
 " ' Her temper ! ' interrupted Sir , with unfeigned sur- 
 prise ! ' Why, I have always understood you to say, that 
 you thought her temper perfection, but that you did not 
 give her as much credit for it as others might, as you con- 
 sidered it constitutional,' 
 
 " ' Ah — well — yes — exactly so — but — a — somehow or 
 other of late — she has given way to the most extraordinary 
 fits of jealousy — and ' 
 
 " * Jealousy ! ' again interrupted Sir , ' for which by 
 
 all accounts she has ample cause ; for all the world are 
 talking of your fresh liaison with some Miss Deacon, a 
 ci-devant governess, and recently the mistress of a Colonel 
 Q , living at Raven Cottage, Fulham.' 
 
 " At this nothing daunted, I seized a large Bible, — for 
 we were in the library, — and solemnly swore upon it that 
 such a report was perfectly unfounded ! After which pretty 
 little perjury, I assumed a more bullying, determined, and 
 aggrieved tone, saying, ' Rut you must be aware, my dear 
 sir, that no man would or could submit to being ivatched 
 and followed about by his wife.' 
 
 " ' Decidedly not,' replied the orthodox and ever-proper 
 Sir , 
 
 " ' Therefore,' I resumed, ' I have come to the irrevocable 
 resolution of separating from Rosina ; but it is more to 
 frighten her than anything else.' 
 
 " Sir here made a ^Xa'H Amen sort of bow, supposing 
 
 that by not offering the slightest resistance to this sum- 
 mary and, at all events, perfectly novel arrangement, he 
 
AN EDIFYING INTERVIEW. 12 1 
 
 upheld his relative's dignity. Which perceiving with all 
 the quickness in which Jie, good easy man, was so totally 
 deficient, I pulled a paper from my pocket, which, accord- 
 ing to my usual mode of proceeding, I had prepared, all in 
 readiness, and with one of my most hollow parchment smiles, 
 blandly requested he would sign. 
 
 " ' What may this be .''' he inquired. 
 
 " ' It is,' I replied, ' that I merely wish you to sign this, 
 certifying that I have behaved honourably to my wife in 
 pecuniary matters, as far as my present means will allow.' 
 
 " ' And, pray, what allowance do you intend making 
 her t ' 
 
 " Rather nervous at naming so paltry a sum after the 
 rate at which he knew I had been living, lest, obliging as 
 he had hitherto been in letting me do whatever I pleased 
 with his cousin, even he should be staggered by such 
 grovelling meanness, I stammered out, ' Four hundred 
 pounds a year.' 
 
 "'Four hundred a year!' exclaimed Sir , in alto. 
 
 ' No ; really that is too little, considering that you have 
 been living at the rate of four or five thousand, and she has 
 been accustomed to every luxury. No, no ; with two 
 children, I don't see how she can do upon that.' 
 
 " ' I feel,' said I, in my most honeyed and plausible tone, 
 'that it is indeed very little ; but although I make a great 
 deal of money by writing, that is uncertain, and I have as 
 yet no tangible property ; and the very fact of my having 
 lived at the rate I have done makes it now imperative on 
 me to retrench.' 
 
 " ' Well, but,' resumed Sir -, who began to have a 
 
 vague sort of uncomfortable feeling that he had no right to 
 aid and abet in so completely wrecking three innocent and 
 defenceless victims, 'you should at least put in a clause 
 that in the event of your coming into landed property, you 
 will then adequately increase your wife's allowance.' 
 
 " ' Oh,' said I, assuming a solemn and tender air of 
 filial delicacy — though I used occasionally to boast in my 
 own domestic circle of the manly and amiable exploit of 
 having 'felled my motJier to the earth ' — ' Oh, my dear Sir 
 
122 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 ,' said I, avec un air p^netr^, ' much as I should desire 
 
 to do so, were I to insert such a clause as t/iat, it would not 
 only be anticipating my mother's death, but assuming that 
 she must leave me her property, at which she might very 
 justly be both hurt and offended.' 
 
 "This bait of a seeming propriety and delicacy of feeling 
 of course took with the proper Sir . 
 
 " ' Oh, my dear Sir , you may implicitly rely zipou 
 
 my Jionour to do everything I ought in money matters the 
 moment I have the power to do so.' 
 
 " With this he actually signed the infamous document I 
 had prepared. He signed it ; and for a moment I felt 
 almost more paralysed than he was. But when I had 
 secured it I quitted the house, feeling light and buoyant, as 
 if I had borrowed Mercury's winged heels. 
 
 " I ordered her to leave my house, much as I should 
 have done my housekeeper or any other servant, merely 
 adding that nothing would induce me to live with her 
 any longer ; but to my astonishment, instead of the violent 
 and upbraiding letter I had expected, she wrote me one 
 calmly cold and temperate, saying that as for separation, 
 we could not be more separated than we were, but as she 
 thought it rather too hard, after having borne so much and 
 so long as she had, with my own statement that she had 
 been to me 'perfection as a ivifel she should now be turned 
 adrift, because, foolishly believing in the falsehood of my 
 illness, she had caught me with my mistress, and that for 
 her children's sake she would not deprive them of a roof 
 over their heads, therefore she, being blameless, would not 
 be turned ignominiously out of her home. 
 
 "This of course, as attempting to thwart my plans, put 
 me in a fury, and I resorted to an expedient which, I 
 hoped, would be a quietus. But no ; the silly fool again 
 wrote to me, and this time it was in an agony, the paper 
 all blotted with her tears. 
 
 " She said : ' If you have no huinan feeling for, no mercy 
 upon, me, have some on your poor helpless children, if I 
 am in your power. I doubt whether even the immoral 
 clique among whom }'ou live would approve of such very 
 
A REMORSELESS TYRANT. I 23 
 
 cowardly and unmanly conduct as that of crushing and 
 outraging a poor defenceless victim merely because she 
 was in your power ! Remember, too, that when I had it 
 in my power to crush and expose yoii, I shielded and for- 
 gave you.' 
 
 " My only reply to this latter truth (which as a tmth I of 
 course considered an insult) was : ' More fool you not to 
 have crushed me 2vhe7i you had the opportunity, for you 
 may rely upon it, I will never give you another.' 
 
 " After this I believe she hated and despised me so 
 cordially that she began actually to pant to quit a house 
 where she had suffered so much ; and things progressed 
 swimmingly." 
 
 On the 14th of June, 1836, Mrs. Bulwer, with her 
 children, quitted Berrymead, her husband's home, 
 for ever. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MRS. BULWER'S position— she GOES TO IRELAND, 1 836. 
 — HER CHILDREN TAKEN AWAY, 1 838— LIFE AT 
 BATH. 
 
 Great as were the troubles of Mrs. Bulwer's married 
 life, and bitter the sufferings she underwent while 
 living under her husband's roof, they became almost 
 insignificant as compared with the squalid misery, 
 the unremitting persecution, and the mental and 
 bodily torture she endured after the date of her 
 separation. For nearly forty-six years was this 
 unhappy lady condemned to protract her weary 
 and joyless existence, and during this dismal period 
 she experienced such a series of unmerited mis- 
 fortunes, insults, outrages, and disasters, that none 
 can marvel that her amiable disposition became 
 soured, her views of life and of human nature 
 embittered, or that occasionally her agony found 
 a vent in extravagances which she herself in calmer 
 moments and under happier circumstances would 
 have been the first to condemn and repudiate. But 
 though I do not attempt to defend the tone of some 
 of her writings, or the virulence of certain of her 
 utterances, I am confident that when my readers 
 are made acquainted with the gross provocation 
 she received, they will pity rather than condemn 
 
PECUNIARY ARRANGEMENTS. 125 
 
 a woman whose virtues were all her own, and whose 
 faults were created by the persecutions of others. 
 But to resume. When Mrs. Bulwer left Berry- 
 mead she went over to Ireland to live with Miss 
 Greene, the woman who was once, according to his 
 own views, Mr. Bulwer's bitter enemy, but who 
 afterwards became his subservient and devoted 
 tool. 
 
 " Things having proceeded thus far," writes Lady Lytton 
 in " Nemesis," " my wife, poor wretch, was sadly put to it 
 where to find a shelter on the beggarly pittance she now 
 had pour tout potage, and hearing the sister kingdom was 
 very cheap, and still wishing to serve the pious Bible-and- 
 baby lady whom she had, much against my will, harboured 
 for seven years, told her to write and ask her sister, a widow, 
 who was living rent free in a large house, what she would 
 take her and her two poor little children for, the one being 
 nearly seven, the other four, without even a maid, stating 
 at the same time how crippled she was in means. The 
 modest reply was ' three hundred and fifty pounds a year,' 
 w^hich my wife, knowing nothing about that sort of living, 
 acceded to, though this sum was not to include coals ! I 
 may here state that though I of course made a great favour 
 of letting my wife have the children, whom I detested, and 
 whom, even if I had not done so, no man likes being bored 
 with at that age, I generously allowed her an additional 
 ;^ioo a year, so that after the i^35Qpaid to the pious Bible- 
 and-baby lady's sister, she would have the munificent sum 
 of i^i50 a year to educate and clothe herself and her chil- 
 dren ; for this I knew to be the real way of keeping her out 
 of society, the true and only crusher. 
 
 *' At this crisis, the lawyers told her she should make out 
 a list of what plate she wanted. She said if such was her 
 right, let them exact it ; but if it were a favour, she would 
 perish before she would accept a glass of water from me. 
 They said it was doubly her right. She then, feeling it 
 
126 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 was absurd to take plates or dishes, or even salvers, when 
 she could not afford plate powder to clean them, only put 
 down what the lawyer laughed at as a too modest list — 
 viz., twelve spoons and forks of each sort ; but when it was 
 submitted to me I drew a line through it, saying Jialf a 
 dozen were quite enough for her and her brats. But this 
 story getting wind and telling considerably against me, I 
 cleverly ordered a silver gilt breakfast service at what is 
 now Hunt and Roskell's, but was then Storr and Mortimer's, 
 and gave out that it was a parting gift to my wife, as if 
 she would have accepted it, though I really intended it as 
 a present to Mrs. Beaumont, and it afterwards figured both 
 at my Pompeian house and at my dejeftners at Raven 
 Cottage. My wife foolishly refused to accept the six 
 spoons and forks ; nor did she take a single thing out of my 
 house with the exception of one, which I shall mention 
 presently. It is customary in cases of separation to pay 
 the first quarter of a wife's alimony, as the lawyers call it, 
 in advance, but such laxity of pocket was foreign from my 
 habits ; therefore I did not pay hers till three months after 
 it was due, and as there were no railways or cheap 
 travelling in those days, and all I had doled out for her 
 long journey, with four persons, was £\0, she found 
 herself so hard run that she actually took the unpardonable 
 liberty of selling an old travelling chariot, for which she 
 only got £^o; but this gave me an opportunity of 
 inveighing amain against her sordid and grasping dis- 
 position. Poor wretch ! had these two (in my estimation) 
 prudent virtues figured among her catalogue of qualities, 
 she never would have given me the power of crushing out 
 her heart, and trampling upon it, as I have done. 
 
 " So my wife, having arrived at the ' miserable goal of 
 her journey,' proceeded to do her best to become recon- 
 ciled to her sadly changed circumstances. The neighbour- 
 ing people called upon her, and she returned their visits ; 
 but she felt too wretched, broken-hearted, and it may be 
 too ashamed of her locale to accept their invitations until 
 Miss Greene told her that, as a matter of principle, she was 
 acting extremely wrong in retiring from the world, for with 
 
LIFE WITH MISS GREENE. 1 27 
 
 such an unscrupulous, unfeeling villain to deal with, and also 
 for the sake of her children, she ought to appear as much 
 in society as possible. Slie at length yielded, and, from 
 long habit and a foolish sensitiveness and over-delicacy 
 of fearing to hurt other people's feelings, in the case of 
 relatives or very intimate friends with whom she could 
 take such a liberty, she used privately to beg of them 
 to include Miss Greene in their invitations, though, being 
 herself now only on sufferance in society and no longer 
 a personage with a fine house to ask them to in return, she 
 could not venture upon anything of the kind with mere 
 acquaintances ; and, indeed, the friends and relations very 
 soon grew restive under such an infliction, and used to 
 appeal against it with an imploring ' My dear Rosina, it 
 is very hard we cannot have the pleasure of seeing you 
 and your children without always being hampered with 
 your verd antique' 
 
 "As time went on Miss Greene began to show the cloven 
 hoof. First she (Mrs. Bulwer) was taxed with having 
 
 made a perfect lodging-house-keeper of Mrs. B , 
 
 Miss Greene's widowed sister, because fine people and 
 fine carriages not only called on Mrs. Bulwer, but added 
 insult to injury by leaving cards or invitations, as the 
 
 case might be, for her and none for Mrs. B or Miss 
 
 Greene. Then other and more portentous signs of the 
 times manifested themselves; for instance, Mrs. Bulwer 
 felt naturally annoyed when her children began to call 
 that antidote, or rather bane, Miss Greene ' Aunt,' and 
 
 when she would return to Mrs. B 's after a visit of a 
 
 fortnight to some country house, she would be greeted on 
 her return by the poor little unconscious accomplices of 
 the conspiracy with ' Oh, Mamma, look here ! wasn't it so 
 kind of Au ntie to give me this doll ! ' or ' this pony ! ' or what- 
 ever the thing might be, which Mrs. Bulwer had either sent 
 or given Miss Greene the money expressly to buy for them. 
 In the course of two miserable years (1836-38) this under- 
 mining system increased to such a degree, and the children 
 were getting too big to be any longer subjected to such 
 vulgar associations with impunity, and were, moreover 
 
128 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 with alarming rapidity acquiring the peculiar accent and 
 dialect of the country, that my wife determined to change 
 her quarters. So having met two ladies who spoke highly 
 of the cheapness and abundance of good masters in a 
 certain magnificent provincial city in England (Bath), also 
 of the goodness of the houses and the excellence of the 
 market, and added that if they would club their three 
 incomes together, how much better they could live ; and, 
 moreover, the eldest would take all trouble of housekeeping 
 off her hands ; these ladies being the orphan daughters 
 of a field officer, and both their parents having held a high, 
 respectable, and respected position in society, my wife 
 thought she was perfectly safe in monle-ing a menage with 
 them, and truly thought it would be a reciprocal advan- 
 tage to all ; for though she greatly disliked settling down 
 in an English provincial town, yet, as beggars cannot be 
 choosers, she resolved to make a virtue of necessity. 
 Above all, she hailed the plan as giving her a fair and 
 legitimate opening for co7igedie-mg Miss Greene, which 
 she did by telling her that for the sake of masters she was 
 about removing to England, and that as the children's 
 education would now begin to be onerous, she could no 
 longer afford to retain Miss Greene as a fixture, but would 
 be happy occasionally to receive her as a guest. Where- 
 upon the antique vestal not only showed the whole of 
 her cloven foot to an enormous extent, but lashed out her 
 tail into the bargain for drawing up the whole length of 
 her fifty-six winters. She replied, that ' she hoped she 
 knew her duty too well to refuse to give up the children 
 unless both parents agreed to take them from her.' Here 
 was a thunderbolt of insolence and ingratitude with a 
 vengeance, as the wretched mother was not till then 
 aware that her children were in Miss Greene's custody. 
 Nor were they, but the pious spinster knew very well that 
 in being guilty of this unfeeling and unparalleled outrage 
 to the woman who had sheltered and befriended her for 
 years, she was playing a sure card. So that very night 
 she wrote to me, saying it grieved her to the heart to 
 observe that 'my wife was now what she never used to be, 
 
A TEMPTING OFFER. 1 29 
 
 wholly given up to the world, and therefore neglected 
 her children, for which reason she could not bear the idea 
 of entrusting them to her alone, as she was going with two 
 strangers, whose acquaintance she had only recently made, 
 to live in England, but that if I would give her a house, 
 however small, and only ^^"50 a year, slie would take them.' 
 This was hitting the right nail on the head, appealing at 
 one blow to my two ruling passions, vindictiveness and 
 avarice; in short, my patron the devil had thus unex- 
 pectedly thrust upon me an infernal stretch of power, in 
 which even /, devoid of every human feeling, of honour, 
 probity, or nature, as I was, would never have dared to 
 take the initiative and grasp ! I instantly, and by return 
 of post, closed with her only too tempting offer; ordering 
 my wife at the same time to be officially informed that till 
 I knew zvJiere she meant to live I could not think of leaving 
 vty children with her ; for whenever I had occasion to 
 torture her, it's astonishing how punctilious my sense 
 of paternal duty became. Of course I was instantly 
 besieged by letters of appeal against such unheard-of 
 tyranny and cruelty ; but as Faust had always Mephisto- 
 pheles at his elbow to incline more and more the downward 
 plane for him, so that sublimest of rascals, my attorney, ever 
 ready to take any sudden journey in the way of spying, 
 or any other dirty work, was always at mine, instigating 
 all my schemes of villainy ; for without such unscrupulous 
 assistance it is not every man, with all the desire in the 
 world, who is aware to what lengths of infamy the law 
 allows him to go. So it was formally proposed to my 
 victim that if she would sign a bond pledging herself never 
 to dine out or drink tea, or even turn the corner of the 
 street in which she lived, I might consent to allow her 
 children to remain with her a little longer. She, poor 
 fool, was actually going eagerly to do this ; but her lawyer, 
 seeing through the black quibble, and resenting so insane 
 a piece of tyranny, would not allow her to do so ; and 
 Loaden and I, fearing that the impertinent world might 
 begin to talk of these cruel and repeated outrages upon 
 a blameless wife by so notorious and unscrupulous a 
 
 9 
 
I30 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 profligate as myself, we concocted another impossible 
 
 facility, that is, he wrote to say that with my usual kind 
 
 consideration for Jier feelings — for he was the greatest adept 
 
 I ever saw at thickly and smoothly spreading out the 
 
 grossest possible insult, and then sprinkling it with the can- 
 
 tharides of ironical civility and compassion — I would allow 
 
 her to see her children once a month for half an hour, with 
 
 Miss Greene in the room, but never alone. This was, of 
 
 course, indignantly rejected, and the poor young victims 
 
 were torn from the only parent who had a human feeling 
 
 for them, to be starved morally and physically with 
 
 Miss Greene, with whom, however, they would have the 
 
 one thing that I thought needful instilled into them, viz., 
 
 to have their father puffed into a demi-god, and that Jiis 
 
 commandments were to be obeyed even before those of 
 
 God ; while their too deeply injured mother's name was 
 
 never to be mentioned to them, as if it had been a crime 
 
 more heinous than any forbidden in the Decalogue, which, 
 
 in truth, was a work of fiendish supererogation, as the 
 
 mere monstrous, unnatural, and unpardonable fact of 
 
 bringing up children away from a mother whose moral 
 
 conduct has given no warrant for such an outrage is 
 
 quite enough to erase all natural affection from their hearts, 
 
 for it is impossible to love those whom we never see, and 
 
 the fondest memories of whom, all things possible and 
 
 almost impossible are done to obliterate and to desecrate. 
 
 Meanwhile the new triumvirate, Loaden, Miss Greene, and 
 
 myself, gave out that the children were placed with her 
 
 by the consent of both their parents. Such a very likely 
 
 story that any mother would consent to have her children 
 
 taken from her and consigned to the custody of a base and 
 
 ungrateful traitress." 
 
 Mrs. Bulwer's children were accordingly taken 
 from her and handed over to the mercies of Miss 
 Greene in 1838. The son was at this time about 
 six years old ; and, except for about four months 
 subsequent to his mother leaving the lunatic 
 
LIFE AT BATH. I3I 
 
 asylum in 1858, when he induced her to go 
 abroad, all personal intercourse between them may- 
 be said to have terminated from this date. The 
 daughter, aged about ten, was permitted the like 
 restricted communication with her mother that 
 was provided by her father's "kind consideration." 
 She died in 1848, under circumstances that will 
 be best described hereafter in the words of an 
 eye-witness. 
 
 The bereaved and desolate mother quitted Ireland 
 in February 1838, and took up her residence at 
 Bath with the two ladies I have mentioned above. 
 With the fatal ill-fortune which seemed constantly to 
 pursue her, she speedily found that her choice of 
 companions had been anything but judicious. The 
 family consisted of three persons: Miss Katherine, 
 the elder sister, 
 
 " ' A feather-bed sample of obese plainness,' Miss Bella, 
 the younger, ' a skewer-like specimen of ugliness,' and an 
 uncouth bo7i vivant of a brother. Miss Katherine was an 
 excellent vienagcre, always providing the things that every- 
 body liked, and as each morning Mrs. Bulwer used to give 
 her money for the daily expenditure, of which she would 
 render a satisfactory account, with the change all en regie, 
 she very naturally was rejoicing in the luxurious idea of 
 paying ready money for everything and not owing a 
 shilling. Her fat friend, moreover, was kind and prxve- 
 naiite, and always supplied her with the earliest violets, 
 the most premature lilies of the valley, and the most 
 precocious peaches. However, when the first quarter's 
 rent came to be paid, which was, according to their 
 covenant, to be paid by three general contributions, some 
 
 delay had happened to the Miss B s' dividends ; and 
 
 they were obliged, though ' very reluctantly,' to trouble 
 Mrs. Bulwer to settle the whole amount. Of this she 
 thought nothing ; but when the next quarter came round, 
 
132 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 and even a third, and the same hitch again occurred, she 
 began to feel not quite so comfortable, as the house was 
 a larger one than she should have liked alone to be liable 
 for. But she consoled herself with thinking that, at all 
 events, all the other household expenses, for food, etc., 
 were duly and regularly paid. 
 
 " Shortly after this, there was a fearful quarrel between 
 the brother and sisters; and Mrs. Bulwer, who had seen 
 enough of the trio to be convinced that they certainly did 
 not add to her respectability, said, that as such constant 
 disputes were very distressing and unpleasant to her, and 
 as there was always some difficulty about paying the 
 rent, she thought it would be much better that they should 
 separate. Miss Bella said, she and her brother had thoughts 
 of going abroad, but that nothing would induce them to 
 live with their eldest sister. This quarrel occurred at night 
 after a ball, when the brother was more than half-seas 
 over, which, from his being a sailor, some persons might 
 have considered merely professional, more especially as he 
 looked yard-arms and cats-of-nine-tails at the unfortunate 
 Katherine, and hiccupped out the most dreadful innuendoes 
 about her, which she was by no means backward in recri- 
 minating, in much more explicit terms. 
 
 "When, in a few days after, Miss Bella and her brother, 
 to Mrs. Bulwer's great satisfaction, took their departure, 
 she had to undergo a dreadful scene with Miss Katherine, 
 who on her knees, with a perfect cataract of tears, implored 
 her not to turn her out of the house, as she had no earthly 
 place to go to, whereupon my wife, who was always a fool 
 at the appearance of distress, whether real or assumed, 
 reluctantly consented to her remaining three months longer, 
 but said she positively then must seek some other place, as 
 she was going to remove into a smaller house, which she 
 did immediately, but had not been there three weeks before 
 Miss Katherine came one day, in an agony of tears, to 
 know if she could, to save her from ruin, lend her for two 
 months i^ioo .'' Now she knew that an old lady, the widow 
 of a relation of mine, who had come down to see my wife, 
 had made her a present of that sum, otherwise it would 
 
A CRUEL FRAUD. I 33 
 
 have been in vain to ask for it; and the story Miss 
 Katherine concocted was, that an undertaker was about 
 to arrest Iter for the expenses of her father and mother's 
 funerals, who had died within three months of each other. 
 ' Well, but surely,' said my wife, ' they would have come 
 upon the executors for those, or, at all events, upon your 
 brother and sister also, and not you alone ? ' ' Oh! ' replied 
 the Greek, not Grecian daughter, ' one of the executors is 
 since dead, the other is abroad ; no one knows where 
 Collingwood and Bella are ; and so they have come upon 
 me, I being here, and the only tangible one.' ' Well, but,' 
 said my wife, still hesitating, 'how can you repay me in 
 two months ? and if you do not, it will put me to terrible 
 inconvenience.' She then had recourse to another false- 
 hood, asserting that there were ^^134 that she must receive 
 in less than seven weeks. At this, and another Niagara of 
 tears, my silly wife wrote her a cheque for the money ; 
 but albeit, unused to the sort of Rothschild grandeur of 
 having a whole spare hundred pounds at her banker's, 
 she made a mistake, and first wrote a cheque, dating it at 
 two months' distance, for the quarterly ^100 due to her 
 by me ; but Miss Katherine immediately perceived the 
 mistake, and called her attention to it, whereupon she 
 crumpled it up and flung it very foolishly into the fireplace, 
 instead of tearing it, and then wrote another draft for the 
 available iJ^iOO, merely saying, 'Pay to Miss Katherine 
 
 B or bearer the sum of one hundred pounds — 
 
 £100.' The two months soon came round, and brought 
 January ; and as the old lady who had given her the iJ"ioo 
 had passed the Christmas with my wife, and a gentleman, 
 a widower, whose wife had been exceedingly kind to Mrs. 
 
 Bulwer when she was at Mrs. B 's, it was very lucky 
 
 that she was not quite alone to meet the pitiless storm that 
 was about to burst upon her devoted head ; for although 
 
 January had come, it had noi brought the i^i34 which 
 
 Miss B was so positively to have received, and so all 
 
 Mrs. Bulwer could do was to urge her strongly to try and 
 get it immediately, as Christmas bills are always heavy, 
 and to write for her own quarterly ;^ioo. But what was her 
 
134 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 horror and consternation when her own two cancelled 
 cheques were returned to her, with a civil letter, saying 
 that both had been presented and cashed, the allowance 
 one only within the last two days ! Had my wife been the 
 culprit, she could not have turned more deadly pale. The 
 letter fell from her hand ; the room seemed to swim ; she 
 
 tottered to the bell, and desired Miss B might be sent 
 
 to her ; when she came, and my wife, unable to utter a word, 
 merely held out the two cancelled cheques to her, the 
 wretched creature fell upon her knees, confessed all, shriek- 
 ing out rather than speaking : ' Oh ! save me ! save me ! ' 
 ' 1 don't know that it is in my power to do so,' said the 
 latter ; and the back drawing-room, where this terrible scene 
 was going on, being only separated from the other by 
 folding doors, the old lady and the gentleman, who were 
 both sitting there after breakfast, came rushing in on hear- 
 ing her screams ; and when she herself had told them what 
 she had done, they were furious against her, and insisted 
 that the law should take its course. * No, not if I can help 
 it,' said Mrs. Bulwer, and then added sternly, turning 
 to the still kneeling woman, ' But out of this house you 
 must go instantly, and never under any pretext enter it 
 again.' 
 
 " After this she hurried up to her own room and wrote a 
 letter to the London banker, who happened to be a personal 
 friend of hers, saying how sorry she was for the mistake 
 which had occurred, and begging him to tell his cashier 
 that it was an oversight of hers, that the money was 
 all right ! and she would explain to him (the banker) the 
 whole affair when she saw him in town. On going down 
 
 to dinner, she inquired whether Miss B was gone .-' the 
 
 servant said no, that she was not in a state to go. ' Then,' 
 said my wife, ' you had better send for a doctor.' 
 
 " 'Doctor, indeed !' echoed the old lady and the gentleman 
 in the same breath ; * we have sent for two policemen, for 
 brandy seems to be her only complaint, which now fully 
 accounts for the palsied tremulousness of her hands;' and 
 of course the servants, who, according to their usual habit, 
 ' never warn one till the deed is done,' had now plenty 
 
FRESH EMBARRASSMENTS. I 35 
 
 to tell my wife of her horrible and long-standing habits 
 of intoxication. 
 
 " But this was only the beginning of the drama ; no 
 sooner had the police removed her from the house to 
 that of a relation of hers in the town, than the plot began 
 to thicken, and the very next day bills from all quarters 
 came showering in — from butchers, bakers, poulterers, 
 fishmongers, fruiterers, etc., etc., not one of whom she 
 had paid for the last twelve months. The only fortunate 
 individuals who had been paid were the upholsterers, 
 who had ministered to the comforts of ' the ministry ; ' 
 and to them, it would appear, had been devoted the 
 amounts of the fancy bills of which my wife had been 
 in the habit of receiving the change. At this discovery 
 she was naturally very angry with the tradespeople for 
 
 having given Miss B such long credit, without ever 
 
 apprising or applying to her for their bills, as they 
 must have supposed that she would not go on so long 
 without paying them. Their reply was that they knezv 
 
 she gave Miss B ready money for everything ; and 
 
 that therefore they did not think she was ever legally 
 
 bound to pay them ; and that as long as Miss B 
 
 continued in my wife's house, they had not the heart to 
 
 worry her about their bills, feeling sure (Miss B 's 
 
 parents having lived so long in the town, and having been 
 in every way so honourable and so highly respected) 
 
 that Miss B herself would make it all right in 
 
 time. I might now indeed well call my wife ' poor 
 wretch,' for she groaned, and covered her face with her 
 hands, as she said, ' I don't know whether I am bound 
 in lazu or not to pay you ; but I am in honour, and if 
 you will only give me time, I will do so to the uttermost 
 farthing.' To which they not only acceded, but many 
 of them even offered to lend her money, on no security 
 but her simple word, so much did they feel for the 
 cruel position in which she was placed ; and besides those 
 poor tradespeople, there were other good, aye actively 
 good Samaritans in that town, who were never weary of 
 doing real kindnesses for her, and, what is far more 
 
136 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 wonderful, amid such a black whirlpool of treachery 
 and ingratitude as this world is, have remained good, 
 and true, and actively kind to her ever since. 
 
 " Meanwhile the old lady, wound up by so many screw 
 propellers, actually (though she came of the same stock — 
 or stocks ? — as that other old lady who, when she fell 
 among thieves, exclaimed in an agony, ' Oh ! good Mr. 
 Highwayman ! for heaven's sake take my life, but spare 
 my money '), seeing the terrible urgency of the case, 
 lent my wife ;^400 for six months ; and in order to 
 repay her, Mrs. Bulwer was driven to commit scribbledom, 
 a crime which, as the sequel will show, I registered a 
 vow never to forget or forgive. 
 
 " Meanwhile it must not be supposed that Loaden and 
 I slept at our posts, though ordinary mortals might 
 think that from such an influx of misfortunes coming on 
 a poor injured creature whom I had turned out of her 
 home because, not content with being for nine years one 
 of the most tyrannical and profligate husbands in London, 
 I, at the end of that time, thought fit to rid myself even 
 of the nominal shackles of marriage — it might be thought, 
 I say, that having thrown her on a cruel world out of 
 the lap of luxury to struggle with all the temptations 
 and, far worse, all the tramplings and tyrannies of 
 poverty, while my vice was revelling in gilded rooms, I 
 should feel some touch of conscience, some twinge of 
 remorse, for having flung her into such a fearful arena. 
 But the very reverse was the case. So the moment I 
 heard of her misfortunes, which, thanks to the subtly 
 organised system of espionnage I have kept up towards 
 her ever since I turned her out of her home, I did as 
 soon as they occurred, I instantly sent Loaden down 
 
 to Bath, thinking that as Miss B had got her into 
 
 debt all over the place, the people would be only too 
 glad to say or do anything against her. But, unfor- 
 tunately, we reckoned without our host ; for not only did 
 every one speak well of her, but when, as a pis aller, he 
 then tried to asperse her character by going to the 
 house where she had lodged, and, after taking the most 
 
LOADENS MANCEUVRES. I 37 
 
 minute topographical survey of the rooms, asking the 
 woman of the house, with a sneering smile, ' if tJie gentle- 
 man who had been here on a visit at Christmas had not 
 slept in the room next my wife's, although the door of 
 communication was apparently nailed up?' 'Oh dear, 
 
 no,' said the woman ; ' Mrs. F r, the old lady, slept 
 
 there ; and the gentleman slept upstairs.' But when 
 Loaden hinted to her that it would be much more to 
 her interest to transpose the geography of the bedrooms, 
 the honest creature indignantly turned him out of the 
 house ; but nothing daunted, as he found it hopeless to 
 attempt to get up any conspiracy against her there, he 
 actually, to insult and outrage her, — and considering how 
 stringently I had tied her up, so as that she could not run 
 me in debt a shilling, it was the very grossest outrage, — 
 put an advertisement in all the county papers, warning 
 the tradespeople not to trust her, as if she had been the 
 runaway wife of a grocer or a cheesemonger ; and on his 
 return to London, to amuse his fellow-passengers in the 
 mail, he brought her name on the tapis by inquiring if 
 they had heard the late terrible swindling case at Bath ? 
 and then talked of her terrible habits of intoxication, and 
 how much her charming and gifted husband was to be 
 pitied. An impromptu stroke of genius this on the part of 
 Loaden, which I so much admired, that a year after, when 
 I sent him on an embassy of special espionnage abroad, I 
 ordered him again to have recourse to it, and have ever 
 since pursued the same plan with immense success ; for in 
 this way I can get every and any lie disseminated and 
 keep myself cautiously out of the scrape, and at the same 
 time give double force to the calumnies, because when those 
 who are made the innocent propagators of them add, 
 ' Oh ! I heard it in a steamboat or on a railway,' why the 
 sequence must be, that it is a matter so notorious, as to be 
 the pubhc talk." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 LITERARY WORK. — LETTERS FROM FRIENDS. 
 
 Sir Edward Bulwer — he had been made a baronet 
 in 1838 — had now succeeded, as we have seen, in 
 driving his unfortunate wife to a condition bordering 
 upon desperation. Her children had been torn 
 from her and entrusted to the care of a woman 
 whom, rightly or wrongly, she despised and detested; 
 her character had been mercilessly defamed by his 
 agents ; her almost penniless condition had been 
 brutally thrown in her face by advertisements in the 
 public press ; insult, indeed, had been heaped upon 
 injury to such an extent that it was idle for him to 
 expect consideration from one to whom he had 
 denied not only mercy and forbearance, but common 
 humanity. Owing to the circumstances I have 
 already detailed. Lady Lytton's meagre allowance 
 was wholly inadequate to discharge the debts she 
 had incurred by her own generosity and ignorance 
 of the darker side of human nature, and in her 
 distress the unfortunate lady endeavoured to turn 
 her talents to account by writing for a livelihood, 
 a resolve which entailed upon her a persecution of 
 tenfold bitterness. 
 
 Lady Lytton possessed abilities of a very high 
 order, as she had already proved by various fugitive 
 writings ; and, under favourable circumstances, there 
 
LETTERS FROM " L. E. L." I 39 
 
 is little reason to doubt that she would have achieved 
 respectable, if not brilliant, success. She had passed 
 very much of her time among literary personages, 
 and, instigated perhaps by their example, had pro- 
 duced work which had excited warm admiration of 
 the most competent critics ; even her husband had 
 condescended to praise her talents, and had certainly 
 made use of them considerably to his own advan- 
 tage. I may here insert a few early letters of the 
 noted Miss Landon, who seems to have had a very 
 high opinion of Miss Wheeler and her attractions, 
 both mental and physical. 
 
 From Miss Landon to Miss R. Wheeler. 
 
 " About 1825. 
 " Many thanks, my dearest Rosin a, for your kind letter. 
 Glad I am to hear from Miss Spence that this epistle will 
 not find you in Somerset Street ; ay, glad, for sick am I 
 of the utter cold worldliness, whose prudence is but the 
 decent password of selfishness, which would say such 
 affectionate, such disinterested friendship can be without 
 its reward. I shall enclose this to Miss Spence, as I have 
 just now such constant opportunity of sending backwards 
 and forwards, leading just now a very pretty, pleasant, and 
 peaceable life. You must pardon my want of les frais de 
 conversation — ' news.' I have eaten, drunk, and talked 
 quite as much, and peradventure a little more than ever 
 St. Denis did after his head was cut off. The only heavy 
 misfortune befell me at Harrowgate, where I got wet 
 through, and my bonnet spoilt, and verily my rural tastes 
 are not even yet sufficiently developed to prefer the cottage 
 shape, which has succeeded, generally speaking. 
 
 ' Je suis bel esprit, 
 Et n'ai de sentiment que pour mes ecrits.' 
 
 But tilis I did feel very deeply ; add to this, I caught cold 
 
140 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 in one eye, which was for a week poulticed and ech'psed by 
 a black handkerchief tied over half my face, and not at all 
 resembling 
 
 ' Such mask as shades 
 The face of young Arabian maids, 
 A mask that leaves but one eye free 
 To do its best in witchery.' 
 
 I had a very pleasant day the day I went to Leeds, a town 
 where the spirit of steam has erected its shrine. On our 
 first approach I began to anticipate another drenching, ' so 
 darkly gloomed the thunder-cloud upon the distant hill ; ' 
 but I spouted Scott and anathematized Coles in vain — it all 
 ended in smoke. I do not know whether the Leeds people 
 are a very godly race, but of this I am sure, they are out 
 of sight of heaven. I think it would be a question well 
 worthy the notice of their philosophical society whether 
 there is a sky above the place or not. The only thing 
 resembling an adventure was that I nearly murdered an 
 old woman by almost breaking her neck down the steps 
 of a cellar which seems placed in all the streets at Leeds 
 to endanger the lives of her Majesty's subjects ; but 
 old women never do die, so we mutually escaped with 
 a fright and a shake. I was very much amused with the 
 exhibition ; there were some good pictures, and the 
 common quantity of portraits, doing their possible to look 
 fine and foolish : one in particular haunted me — ' a lady,' 
 who must have either been Lady Mayoress of Leeds, or 
 else have kept its principal inn, one who must have been 
 the death of the unfortunate man who drew her, one of 
 those red and yellow dames whose clothes and complexion 
 are all of a cast. I had un petit acces de fievj^e contem- 
 plating her crimson gown and more crimson cheek. I 
 think artists might with great justice make the same com- 
 plaint with the author of ' Rouge et Noir,* and say of their 
 sitters, as he does of his countrywomen landing at Calais, 
 ' florid and flushed, sea-sick and sea-green.' The ugliest 
 come on purpose to disgrace us. We have passed divers 
 rural days, dining in woods, etc., to my taste more 
 picturesque than pleasant ; while a chair and a table are to 
 
LETTERS FROM " L. E. L." I4I 
 
 hand, I shall infinitely prefer them, in their rosewood and 
 mahogany shapes, to making a chair of a stump, a table of 
 my knees, and, par consequence, a tablecloth of my frock. 
 Much as I like my relations, I prefer taking my dinner 
 with any than my ants ; and, I am afraid, in spite of the 
 poetry of the place, prefer water from a pump to water from 
 the prettiest spring that ever showed the mud at the bottom 
 of its clear depths. And now for a parting charge. Take 
 care of yourself. Remember the old proverb, backing 
 itself with all the authority of Ecclesiastes, ' Love thine 
 own soul ; comfort thine own heart ; for sorrow hath killed 
 many, and there is no profit therein.' I am sure for 
 myself, were I asked which of all my actions I repented 
 most, I should say, ' My good ones.' Experience, as far as 
 mine goes, has read me a lesson of so much disgust, that I 
 really do sometimes lament I have no means of becoming 
 desperately wicked, in order to ensure every advantage of 
 life. But I must say good-bye, dearest Rosina. 
 " Your very affectionate 
 
 " Letitia Elizabeth Landon. 
 
 " P.S. — Write to me, my own love, and that soon. 
 Encore adieii, belle des belles." 
 
 Miss Landon to Miss R. Wheeler. 
 
 " \T,tk October, 1825, 
 
 " I have regular classifications for all my acquaintance ; 
 but truly, ma charjnante et belle Rose, I know not under 
 what denomination to class you. I cannot class you among 
 pretty young ladies whose qualifications are scorns, silliness, 
 and simpers, who go the length of news and nonsense ; 
 neither can I content myself by only niching you among 
 the beauties, who deem to look is to live ; neither can I 
 class you among the blues (for all you do quote Latin), 
 all books, barbarisms, and bores. You must go therefore 
 unclassed. But this is a preamble for my objection to 
 a character I understand Miss Benger has pointed out for 
 yours, Lady Delacour. I admit the beauty, grace, wit, 
 esprit de billet; but these are only sparkling ornaments. 
 
142 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 You have such in common ; it was no mental Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence that drew such portrait of you : at least, to me it 
 is unsatisfactory. I am dazzled by Lady Delacour, but I 
 could not love her; for there is an unattractiveness about 
 her, nothing of that tenderness and Gentleness which is the 
 poetry of woman. I have even thought Lady Delacour 
 resembled one of those roses formed of precious stones we 
 read of in fairy lore, but where in such a flower is the 
 fragrance, thefreshness of my charming Rose .-* I have Mrs. 
 Roberts on my side to testify to the likeness of your 
 portrait. I shall take the pet and pout if you thus depre- 
 ciate my pictorial talents. 
 
 " This letter has lain at this point for nearly two days. 
 I have had one of my most violent headaches, but am 
 sufficiently recovered now to fairly write your patience out 
 of pocket. Shall I not meet you at Miss Spence's next 
 Wednesday week .'' I hope and trust so, so pray go. I 
 rely upon it, and you could not have the heart to dis- 
 appoint me. But perhaps I may see you before. I have 
 written to solicit the honour of the aforesaid lady's company 
 on the Wednesday previous to her own show. I have 
 taken it into my head I could form a very decent menagerie, 
 but really I have not time to hunt up what would make 
 a regular shilling-a-head exhibition, so I do not rate next 
 Wednesday abovea twopenny sight, but if you would come, I 
 should forthwith raise the value to sixpence ; but, badinage 
 apart, I do want to see you, I want you to come that 
 evening to urge another request — that of spending a whole 
 day with me tete-a-tete. Am I not greedy } So you must 
 come next Wednesday. As to your epigram, I am 
 delighted with it, and could not resist showing it and the 
 caricature to Mr. Jerdan, who says he will submit to your 
 'braining him with a Latin quotation' if you will not 
 assassinate him with an epigram, and at the same time 
 asserts he thinks it too bad and too exorbitant of you to 
 be both the beauty and the wit. 
 
 " I am happy to tell you, you are nearly dead. When I 
 next see you, I will show you the portrait of your lover ; 
 but I won't send it you, as it may be an inducement to 
 
LETTERS FROM " L. E. L. I 43 
 
 come. I have heard from my brother, and tidings of the 
 picture. It was put with his things by mistake, and taken 
 into the country, instead of being sent to you. I saw Mrs. 
 Roberts the day before yesterday ; if you were not your- 
 self, I should quite hate you as my rival there. 
 " God bless you, my dearest Rosina, 
 " Your truly attached 
 
 " Letitia Elizabeth Landon. 
 
 " Wednesday. 
 " Miss R. Wheeler, 
 
 " Sir John Doyle, Bart., 
 
 *' Somerset Street, Portman Square." 
 
 Miss Landon to Miss R. Wheeler. 
 
 " October, 1825. 
 
 " Many thanks, ma belle Rose, for your most entertaining 
 of epistles. If it were for vanity alone, you should write to 
 me : a letter is 2111 vrai ti'esor de campagne ; and, believe mic, 
 affection has no point of distance so enhancing as absence — 
 not but that I have a very proper appreciation of your pre- 
 sence. Dearest Rosina, why do you end your letter with ' as 
 impossible as that I should ever be happy ' .'' it makes me 
 more melancholy than suits my style of face ; how well I 
 remember the first time I sazu you (I do not count our 
 introduction anything), gay, brilliant, like the personifica- 
 tion of your diamond cross, taking a mortal shape for 
 mortal eyes. I went home envying you, not the envy that 
 would have robbed you of either curls, colour, or cross, but 
 that pleasant kind of desiring adinirativencss which wishes 
 nature had cast you in such a mould. I had such a wish 
 to see you again, and now I will not be disappointed. 
 Happy you must be. To quote an old and elegant proverb, 
 ' good luck knocks once at everybody's door ; ' if it has 
 yet to knock at yours, tant niieux. You do not enjoy pleasure 
 unless you appreciate it, and it is only by previous want 
 we can appreciate possession. In spite of the miseries of 
 human life — and theirname is Legion — I do also most firmly 
 believe every pain has its twin pleasure ; your best part of 
 life is to come. I have but small taste for the reminiscences 
 
144 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 of cliildhood, standing in the corner with a certain paper 
 pyramid, boxes on the ear, bread-and-water, stocks and 
 dumb-bells, grammar with all its auxiliary horrors, 
 geography with its twin brother history, two monsters at a 
 birth, and that climax the multiplication table. Out upon 
 lamenting the childish hours of a, b, c, and i, 2, 3 ! No, 
 carissima, I will tell you what you must do : marry, by all 
 means ; and marry well. Dieu de f amour forbid I should 
 desire you to change Miss into Mrs. on the strength of a 
 set of diamonds, a Brussels lace dress, and a coach and 
 four, but I must say in calculating matrimonial agremens 
 the most important are those which will outlive the honey- 
 moon. I have no faith in the happiness of love matches: 
 marriage should be a treaty in which every concession is 
 duly weighed, every article carefully examined ; and how 
 can this be done when every object is seen through the 
 magnifying, diminishing, or rose-coloured glasses of love's 
 observatory t Marry, nia cJiannantc Rose, and your London 
 season will be the wonder of the Mortiing Post, and in the 
 country your husband will be returned member for the 
 county on the strength of his wife's popularity. You must 
 not expect much detail from me. Since I last wrote I have 
 been quite a round of dinner-parties, very pleasant to 
 myself, but very indescribable ; it will not be very entertain- 
 ing to hear how very fine the pines were at one place, and 
 how very good the ice was at another, and that at one the 
 table was so covered with gold plate, that I began to look 
 somewhat anxiously for a dish that had something in it, 
 with the old epigram running in my head, 
 
 ' Your pride, but not your victuals, spare, — 
 I came to eat and not to stare.' 
 
 I can assure you my canvassing powers are held in no small 
 estimation by my young cousins, for I have actually, by 
 dint of quips and quirks and wreathed smiles, persuaded 
 an old gentleman near to give a ball at his house. I have 
 really been very happy since I have been down here, I 
 have met with so much kindness, and glad as I shall be to 
 see ' the friends I left behind,' I shall be very truly sorry 
 
AN ANACREONTIC ODE. 1 45 
 
 to say good-bye to Aberford. I calculate on returning' in 
 about a fortnight. I am most truly sorry I cannot ascribe 
 any Irish conquest d ines beaux yeiix, for I have neither 
 seen nor heard of Mr. O'Driscol ; it is really very unfortunate 
 that my conquests are something like the passage to the 
 South P(ile or Wordsworth's cuckoo, ' talked of, but never 
 seen.' Pray write again ; it is a charity, a pleasure, and a 
 favour to me. I have not written a line of poetry since 
 here I arrived, so your unfortunate lover lies with only one 
 curl and an eye finished ; I fear he must wait for London 
 polishing. I am glad you liked my portraits. 
 
 " ' Farewell : be pleasures, like the air you breathe, 
 Constant around you ; would I had a gift, 
 A fairy gift of happiness and hope, 
 And I would share it with you.' 
 
 "Your most affectionately attached 
 
 " Letitia Elizabeth Landon. 
 
 "There is nothing in future so wonderful but I will be- 
 lieve it. Thomson married ! who has made such a dying 
 speech and confession of a forlorn hope. Well, 
 
 ' Loving goes by haps ; 
 Some Cupids kill with arrows, some with traps.' 
 
 But what, in the name of matches, did he kill with ? You 
 must remember me most affectionately to dear Mrs. 
 Roberts. Hope you'll excuse the wafer." 
 
 The following Ode may be read not only with 
 interest, but admiration. It was written by Lady 
 Lytton in 1833, at the Hotel Vittoria, Naples, and 
 appeared in " Fraser's Magazine," April, 1838. 
 
 « ANACREONTIC." 
 I. 
 
 " Bring me the purple wine ! 
 The bright Falernian bring ; 
 And myrtle fetters twine 
 
 To chain the boy-god's wing ! 
 
 10 
 
146 LIFE OF LADY LYTTQN. 
 
 If he unruly proves, 
 
 Invokes his mother's doves, 
 
 Or scorns our soft control, 
 
 Plunge, plunge him in the bowl ! 
 
 " I'll drink the rosy draught ; 
 Venus shall smile to see, 
 Soon as the god I've quaffed, 
 The urchin's pranks in me, 
 And wish she had sooner smiled 
 Ere I had stolen her child. 
 
 III. 
 
 " Lesbia no more shall fling 
 
 Her scornful glance at me ; 
 Arm'd with the tyrant's wing, 
 
 'Tis my turn to be free ! 
 I'll barb his keenest dart, 
 
 And when I've pierced her heart 
 I'll leave her to her fate. 
 
 Sighing, ' // is loo late ! ' 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Thais, whose every look 
 
 Was stolen from Love of yore, 
 
 Shall give back all she took, 
 And vow to steal no more. 
 
 Thus charms, the most Divine, 
 By right of love are mine ! 
 
 V. 
 
 " And cold lanthe, too, 
 
 Blanch'd in Diana's beam, 
 Whose pale cheek never grew 
 
 Bright with the heart's warm stream, 
 Shall woo Endymion now, 
 
 With kisses on my brow, 
 And leave the chaste, cold moon 
 
 To bask in Love's warm noon ! 
 
"CHEVELEY." 1 47 
 
 VI. 
 
 " But for the Nubian maid, 
 
 Who gave me love of old, 
 I'll seek the almond shade, 
 
 And pay her back tenfold, 
 Till mighty Jove above 
 
 Shall envy us our love ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Sweet Love — young Mirth — bright Wine ! 
 
 Take, take them all away ! 
 Yet no — I feel Love's mine : 
 
 He in my heart must stay ; 
 Breathe a Lydian measure. 
 
 Steep my soul in pleasure :. 
 Soft Sleep her balm now brings ; 
 
 Down, Love ! keep still thy wings ! " 
 
 Lady Lytton told me that Walter Savage Landor * 
 said to her he would rather have written these lines 
 than all the works he had composed. 
 
 Lady Lytton accordingly wrote her first novel, 
 " Cheveley," and began to treat for its publication. 
 Naturally enough, her husband soon heard the news ; 
 and did all in his power to prevent its issue by 
 endeavouring to intimidate the authoress. 
 
 Sir Edward's threats were, of course, treated with 
 the contempt they merited, for, as Lady Lytton 
 continues : — 
 
 "She was at that time writhing in every fibre of her 
 heart under the first effects of the vile conspiracy about 
 her children, whose distant periodical letters were beginning 
 to assume the measured curtness and coldness derived 
 from passing through the joint infernal machine of Miss 
 Greene's dictation and their father's supervisal, so that on 
 hearing of his menaces the only effect they had upon her 
 was to nerve her arm, with the strength of a Judith, into 
 * See Appendix, III. 
 
148 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON, 
 
 drawing the strong sword of defiance and flinging away 
 the scabbard ; and the only reply she vouchsafed to it 
 was to write to Mr. Bull, her publisher, telling him to 
 hurry the publication of her book. But in reply, he 
 wrote in great consternation, saying that Sir Edward had 
 come into his shop the preceding day, and said that he 
 did not care what Lady Bulwer published, but that her 
 relations would not hear of her publishing anything, and 
 that her cousin, Sir' F. Doyle, positively insisted that the 
 book in question should not be published, and therefore 
 Mr. Bull must discontinue the printing of it ! Now, 
 though Mr. Bull, with his long experience of publishing 
 business, did not exactly see what earthly right rela- 
 tions, and more especially such very distant and neutral 
 ones as cousins, had to interfere in the suppression of a 
 work, and that, moreover, only a work of fiction, still he 
 was a nervous, tremulous, unquiet little man, with none of 
 the brass for which publishers in general are so dis- 
 tinguished, and a great deal of the honesty by which they 
 are, alas ! so rarely distinguished. So, not knowing very 
 well how to act, he wrote to Lady Bulwer, requesting to 
 know what she would wish him to do. But before she 
 answered him, she wrote the following letter to the tepid rela- 
 tive who had, with such gentlemanlike and imperturbable 
 composure, made her and her poor ill-fated children over 
 so completely to the tender mercies of her unscrupulous 
 husband. 
 
 " ' Sir,— 
 
 " ' Is it possible that, not content with having 
 wrecked me and my poor children eternally — as far as 
 this world is concerned — by a total and unprecedented 
 disregard of our commonest interests, you have now pre- 
 sumed to take upon you, without the slightest natural, or 
 even conventional, authority so to do, to interdict the 
 publication of the novel I have sold to Mr. Bull, written 
 for the purpose of discharging debts which I never in- 
 curred, and which, owing to your most extraordinary 
 passiveness in making me over so completely into the 
 
A VISIT TO MR. BULL. 1 49 
 
 power of the most unprincipled man that ever existed, I 
 may look upon as only the beginning of a long series of 
 humiliating and irreparable misfortunes ? Awaiting your 
 immediate and explicit reply to the above inquiry, 
 " ' I remain, Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 'ROSINA BULWER.' 
 
 To which, by return of post, she received the following 
 laconic but conclusive answer : — 
 
 " ' My dear Rosina (for I will not address you in the 
 same tone in which you have done me), I beg most ex- 
 plicitly to state that not only have I never interfered in 
 any way to stop the publication of your book, which, in 
 the first place, as you truly say, I should have no rigJit to 
 do, but, in the next place, I could not have done so, inas- 
 much as that your own letter just received was the very 
 first intimation I had of your intention to publish. 
 ' I am yours sincerely, 
 
 ' F. H. Doyle.' 
 
 "This letter Lady Bulwer thought it better to take to Mr. 
 Bull ; so a young friend very kindly, at a moment's notice, 
 having obtained her mother's permission so to do, accom- 
 panied Lady Bulwer to London, her older and married 
 sister having, with equal kindness, lent her the money for 
 the journey. As I before said, there were no railroads then, 
 so, to save time, they travelled all night, and surprised Mr. 
 Bull by an early visit the next morning, when she placed 
 her cousin's letter in his hands ; no sooner had the little 
 man read it than he threw up his hands and eyes, exclaim- 
 ing, ' Well ! well ! It passes my comprehension how any 
 man calling himself a gentleman could come into my shop 
 and tell me as many falsehoods as Sir E. Bulwer did the 
 other day, the chief of which this letter so completely 
 refutes. And now,' continued he, ' if your Ladyship can only 
 remain three days in town, I shall have the proofs of the 
 
150 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 third volume ready, in which I want you to insert some- 
 thing.' 
 
 " Poor Lady Bulwer coloured up to her temples as she 
 felt her attenuated purse, and said that 'she was very sorry* 
 but that she should be obliged to return immediately. 
 But the publisher, with great delicacy and kindness, guess- 
 ing pretty well the real necessity of her immediate return' 
 said — 
 
 " ' Really, my dear madam, you look much too tired to 
 recommence your journey so soon; and as I let apartments, 
 — my rooms are by no means bad upstairs, — and as they are 
 now vacant, if you would do me the honour of occupying 
 them, not as a tenant, but as a guest, for a few days, it 
 would make me very happy, and I should be much flattered. 
 Kindness from such quarters is generally genuine, and 
 whenever and wherever and from whomsoever it is so, the 
 best present return that can be made for it is to accept it ; 
 and, as a good heart is always well-bred. Lady Bulwer did 
 accept the worthy publisher's hospitality, and in less than 
 half an hour his equally kind wife had, in their very nicely 
 furnished upstairs rooms, prepared a most excellent break- 
 fast for her and her friend. 
 
 " No sooner had Sir Edward's cowardly attempt to 
 intimidate his wife become a subject of conversation 
 than he solemnly denied it, and roundly asserted that it was 
 an invention of hers. Nice accusations for a woman to 
 forge against herself ! But it is an old remark that there is 
 no falsehood so absurd but what there will be some fools 
 found to believe in. Next, out came the book, and from 
 that time forth Sir Edward's own particular pressgang 
 were indefatigable and unscrupulous in the personal nature 
 of their attacks upon it and its authoress. 
 
 " However, a toict vialJieiir qjielque chose est bou ; and as 
 Lady Bulwer's ill-fated novel had at least had the merit of 
 eliciting some new psychological definitions in criticism, 
 so it had also the still greater merit of causing to be 
 given to the world a new literary curiosity, as it furnished 
 Sir Edward with the opportunity of writing a charming 
 little poem, in which he launched out into the following 
 
LETTERS OF ALARIC A, WATTS. 151 
 
 truly poetical ecstacy upon his own excessive personal love- 
 liness and genius as contrasted with his wife's extreme 
 antiquity : — 
 
 " ' He ' {i.e., Sir Edward) 'was a gifted boy, with golden hair 
 And eyes of heaven's own blue ; 
 While her maturer charms but shone 
 With a faint lustre borrowed from his own.' " 
 
 But in spite of the organised opposition to its 
 success, " Cheveley " sold well enough to induce 
 Mr. Bull to accept Lady Lytton's next novel, " The 
 Budget of the Bubble Family," in the following year ; 
 and that it enjoyed a considerable amount of popu- 
 larity I have ample evidence to prove. The testi- 
 mony of a few friends will be found in the following 
 letters, which I subjoin both as aiding my narrative 
 and as being not without interest from other reasons. 
 
 On April 2Sth, 1839, Alaric A. Watts writes : — 
 
 "Ember Lodge. Thames Ditton, 
 '■'■ April zWi, 1839. 
 
 " Dear Lady Bulwer, — 
 
 " It would be impossible for me to convey to you 
 in writing anything like a definite idea of the impression 
 which has been produced on the minds of myself and wife 
 by your last painfully affecting packet. The treatment you 
 have experienced surpasses in atrocity everything that I 
 have ever heard of or could have conceived possible, and 
 at once puts an end to all delicacy and forbearance towards 
 its author from either yourself or friends. Indeed, on my 
 return last evening from town, I found Mrs. Watts in a 
 paroxysm of indignation, and I can truly say that we have 
 spoken and thought of nothing else since ; nor could I 
 peruse your thrilling account of your persecutions and in- 
 dignities without a feeling of shame on behalf of the species 
 to which your oppressor belongs. When I assure you of 
 
152 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 our deepest sympathy, I am satisfied you will give me full 
 credit for sincerity ; for the details you hive been pleased 
 to communicate to us have made us more warmly interested 
 in your future welfare than I could have thought possible 
 on so slight an acquaintance. Certainly, under all the cir- 
 cumstances, I should not, had I been privy to the intended 
 publication of ' Cheveley,' have advised its suppression. 
 I took the part of ' Cheveley' as a stranger, a mere looker-on, 
 should invariably take part when a woman is even reputed 
 to have been oppressed. To enable me to form an idea of 
 the exact position in which you stand with Bull, you had 
 better send me a copy of the agreement you signed with 
 him. As for injunction or prosecution, it was a mere bug- 
 bear ; but it is perfectly true that if your MSS. pass directly 
 from your own hands to those of your publisher, and the 
 copyright is not paid for at the time it is delivered, Sir 
 Edward can at any time possess himself of either the book 
 or the money to be paid for it. I see a catchpenny adver- 
 tised to which you refer in your letter. My belief is that 
 the object of the annouce is merely to harass you, and 
 that it will never make its appearance. But do not, I 
 entreat, publish anything yourself without due advice and 
 consideration. Do not write to or notice any of these 
 vermin yourself. 
 
 " We gather from the tone of your last note that you are 
 ill, and that you are labouring under great excitement of 
 mind. We earnestly entreat you, for the sake of your 
 cliildren, to keep yourself as quiet as possible, and not to 
 seek unnecessary occasions of fresh excitement. Your 
 case is as strong as it can possibly be, and if you labour 
 under temporary calumny, ' bide your time,' and all will 
 be right. My wife will write by an early opportunity. 
 She joins me in the wish that you could spend a week or 
 two of perfect repose in our cottage, which is pretty and 
 pleasantly situated ; and as I am only an hour and a half's 
 drive from town, you might settle all your matters with 
 Bull, arrange for another book with some one else, and 
 gain from change of air and scene renewed health and 
 spirits. You and Mrs. Watts should drive out every day. 
 
LETTERS OF ALARIC A. WATTS. 153 
 
 Certainly, should anything call me near Bath, I will not fail 
 to visit you for a day ; and if you will make our cottage 
 your home when you come to town, Mrs. Watts will take 
 a trip to Bath some day for the pleasure of passing a day 
 or two in your society. 
 
 *' I remain, dear Lady Bulwer, 
 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 
 " Alaric a. Watts." 
 
 In a subsequent letter from the same writer 
 occurs the remark : " The edition of ' Cheveley ' 
 now selling is the third. Of this I have proofs." 
 
 The following was also written about the same 
 date : — 
 
 " Ember Lodge, Monday. 
 
 " My dear Lady Bulwer, — 
 
 " I have thought over your affairs until I hardly 
 know what course to recommend. One appears to me 
 imperative, and in the prosecution of that I will do all I 
 can. I mean a simple statement of your wrongs, supported 
 by such documentary evidence as can be obtained from 
 various sources. Above all, Byrne should testify to what 
 she knows, to the worst points, of course ; and I think she 
 might safely say that there had been some parts of 
 B 's conduct which a sense of decency made it im- 
 possible to detail. Mr. Hume should testify to what Miss 
 
 Greene told him of B . If he denies its truth, it will at 
 
 least show with what kind of woman he has placed your 
 children. I sincerely hope Bentley may have accepted 
 your terms, but I fear not. 
 
 " I was so overwhelmed with my own avocations that I 
 found it impossible to call on you on Saturday, but I saw 
 Mr. Hyde, and suggested what I thought best with regard 
 to Bull. I shall make a point of being in time on Tuesday, 
 when I will go to Sir Francis Doyle ; and if I cannot see 
 him, which I hardly hope to do, I may see his son. Mean- 
 while collect all the material together for your statement 
 that is likely to add to its force, and any written declara- 
 
154 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 tions illustrative of the narrative will be most important, 
 and I will do my best to meet your wishes. 
 " I remain, dear Lady Bulwer, 
 
 ■' Faithfully yours, 
 
 "Alaric a. Watts." 
 
 Charles Kean, who was a favourite proteg^ of 
 Lady Lytton, writes : — 
 
 " Dublin, Gresham's Hotel. April ^th, 1839. 
 " A thousand thanks, my dear Lady Bulwer, for your 
 kind letter ; but I really am very jealous that you should 
 have sent the ' Man of Honour ' to my mother so long 
 before I am honoured by his company. The poor old 
 lady is quite enchanted with my chapter. But, pray, what is 
 the reason that it cannot be procured in Dublin } for 
 hundreds are on the tiptoe of expectation, and yet are 
 unable to procure it. I hope and trust, my dear madam, 
 that you will visit London in June, and see the farewell 
 at the Hay market, for one may be blown up on the way to 
 America, or Lynch laiv be my lot when I reach it. Your 
 
 friend Colonel D'A is in wretched spirits ; the loss of 
 
 his child and the approaching trial of his friend and 
 
 schoolfellow Lord S are preying upon his mind. He 
 
 speaks of you most kindly ! I have not yet seen the 
 new Lord Lieutenant, but his staff have received orders to 
 attend chapel prayers every morning at half-past nine. 
 Report stated that the private box would not be retained 
 at the theatre, so great were his religious scruples ; but this 
 is not correct, as a contrary order has been received, as ' had 
 been the custom with his predecessors,' We are very dull 
 and stupid, as everybody of respectability is out of 
 Dublin, and the Radicals that are here are full of 
 O'Connell and Lord Fortescue. Once again let me hope 
 you will be present at my last moments in London, or I 
 shall be deeply pained ; and believe me, my dear Lady 
 Bulwer, 
 
 " Ever yours sincerely, 
 
 " Charles Kean." 
 
 " Cheveley ; or, The Man of Honour," Lady Bulwer's first novel. 
 
LETTERS OF CHARLES KEAN. I 55 
 
 " Dublin, April i6tk, 1839. 
 
 " I cannot sufficiently express to you, my dear Lady 
 Bulvver, how gratified I feel by so many indications of 
 your regard, and how deeply sensible I am of the kind 
 interest you have taken in my welfare. Your parcel has 
 just arrived, and I only regret that I cannot borrow your 
 pen on this occasion to enable me to describe the unfeigned 
 pleasure your kindness has afforded me ; but conscious how 
 incompetent I am at all times to express my feelings, let 
 me pray you to pardon this poor acknowledgment, and 
 believe that I thank you from my heart. I am rejoiced to 
 think there is every probability of seeing you in London, 
 as it would have given me pain indeed had I contemplated 
 my departure from England without the hopes of per- 
 sonally bidding you farewell. My engagements concluded 
 here last night, when the house was crowded to the roof; 
 but I remain in Dublin until my appearance in Liverpool 
 requires me on the 27th. Our new and saint-like Lord 
 Lieutenant, much against his inclination, I believe, visits the 
 theatre in state to-morrow evening, and has commanded 
 llie Lady of Lyons as the performance, having heard, he 
 says, that Claude Melnotte is my best character. 
 
 " His Excellency is not theatrical. The potentate of 
 Covent Garden has announced his intended abdication. 
 There will now be a meeting of the gang to petition his 
 Majesty to resume the government, unless indeed he 
 anticipates the House of Commons will bring in a Bill 
 stating that the welfare of the country requires his 
 Majesty should continue in office, with this amendment 
 by Talfourd, that Charles Kean must play second to 
 him. 
 
 " Pray present my compliments to Miss Boys, and say 
 how grateful I am to her for the beautiful manner in which 
 she has etched my initials. TJie handkerchief will make 
 its first appearance on any stage next Saturday, when 
 Hamlet is repeated for the last time. I am perfectly 
 ashamed at sending this apology of a letter in reply to 
 yours, but can only repeat that my heart thanks you ; and 
 
156 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 though one of the evil gender, I can feel, and with sincerity- 
 subscribe myself, 
 
 "Ever yours sincerely, 
 
 "Charles Kean." 
 
 " Manchester, May 24//^, 1839. 
 
 "My dear Lady Bulwer,— 
 
 " I intrude this letter upon you for the sake of 
 urging speech to your kind intention of being in London 
 next month, as I am all anxiety to know that you will 
 be present on my first appearance at the Haymarket, 
 3rd June. 
 
 " Very much depends on the first night of a London 
 engagement, and I ardently hope you will not desert 
 me on such a trial. Although I passed the Rubicon 
 at Drury Lane, yet I feel my enemies are so strong and 
 so vindictive, that I know every engine will be set in motion 
 to endeavour to crush me on this occasion ; and therefore 
 I solicit the presence of one who has so powerfully and 
 generously aided my cause to encourage me against 
 Fusbos and his gang. 
 
 " I shall reach my home, after an absence of nine months, 
 on Sunday evening. And glad enough I shall be to quit 
 this horrid place. 
 
 " The Chartist excitement here is so great, that 
 the military are constantly parading the streets ; and 
 another regiment, together with some cavalry, have just 
 entered the town. 
 
 " To-morrow is the meeting, and the troops are ordered 
 to be under arms. 
 
 " What think yoit of our gracious Queen ? What a 
 capital speech the great Duke made in the House of 
 Lords ! 
 
 " Pray send me one line to 30, Old Bond Street, tell- 
 ing me you will be in London by 3rd June, and confer 
 a heartfelt obligation on 
 
 " Yours ever sincerely, 
 
 " Charles Kean." 
 
THE CAP FITS. I 5/ 
 
 I have not been able to discover who was the 
 writer of the following, which relates to the effect 
 produced by " Cheveley " upon a certain lady of 
 rank : — 
 
 "April, 1839. 
 
 " My dearest Rosina, — 
 
 " Do not be alarmed at hearing from me so 
 soon again, but I must relate to you a laughable scene 
 which has just been told to my father by the pretty 
 mistress of a circulating library within a few doors of 
 this. My father went to obtain 'Cheveley' for a friend 
 who is staying with us. Upon receiving the work, he asked 
 her if she had read it. She said she had done so in 
 a hurried manner. My father gave her a key to the 
 characters. When he came to Lady Stepastray, the poor 
 woman started and said, ' Oh, sir, you have accounted for 
 a curious scene which took place here last night, and for 
 
 which I was quite at a loss to account. Lady S 
 
 came in and asked me to recommend her a new book. I 
 instantly named " Cheveley." Her Ladyship seemed in 
 a moment overcome with violent passion, and stamping 
 with her foot, exclaimed, " Oh, that horrid bad book, written 
 by that horrid woman ! I would not allow it to be on my 
 table. Not that I have ever seen the book." She then 
 bounced out of the shop, exclaiming, " Oh, the horrid, 
 disgusting, shameful book ! " ' The enlightened librarian 
 asked if it were possible any man could be so bad. Upon 
 being assured it was not only a possibility, but a ideality, she 
 added, ' Well, sir, I never had a very good opinion of Sir 
 Edward Bulwer since he cheated me out of nine shillings.' 
 Deeply do I lament the annoyances which beset you ; but 
 if the fate of women in general be but a triste affaire, what 
 can you, the gifted, the beautiful, and \h.Q. pej'secnted, expect.-* 
 The women abuse your book — they don't know why ; the 
 men because you know them. From such judges there is 
 no appeal. 
 
 " Your sincerely affectionate friend, 
 
 "C. E. H." 
 
158 life of lady lytton. 
 
 Extracts from Friends' Letters. 
 
 ^'February 1st, 1839. 
 
 " My dearest Rosina, — 
 
 "Your new work, I see by the papers, is to 
 appear the first of March. The power of that monster, 
 Law, made by men to gratify their own selfish and 
 vindictive passions, leaves a woman so entirely at the 
 mercy of a husband, that I cannot help wishing that 
 every page of your ' Man of Honour ' may be revised by 
 a lawyer before it passes to the public. However harmless 
 the shafts of satire may fall on the shameless swell mob, by 
 fraternal convention called gentlemen and men of honour, it 
 is not expected, and therefore never pardoned, when a 
 woman tears the mask from any individual amongst them. 
 Therefore caution ! caution ! for none can tell what 
 wounded self-love may do, aided by power and unchecked 
 by conscientious feeling, to double, treble, the injury you 
 have received. You have a right to exercise your talent 
 and increase your income by writing books, and, fortu- 
 tunately, you bring great ability to your task ; but for every 
 motive that prudence can suggest, make your just indigna- 
 tion less pointed towards the individual, and more towards 
 the general delinquency of men, their laws and institutions, 
 which sanction them in degrading generally, and ill- 
 treating individually, every woman equal in intellect and 
 superior in moral practice to themselves. 
 
 " There never was a period when the public and the 
 intelligent also among women were more prepared to sym- 
 pathise with a work of this kind. Mrs. Jameson and other 
 women of the present day have nobly fought their battle 
 in this way, and have been responded to by public sym- 
 pathy, and there is none other worth writing for. 
 
 " Ever most affectionately yours, 
 
 " A. W." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LADY BULWER AT PARIS. — LIBEL IN THE "MORNING POST " 
 AND "COURT JOURNAL." 
 
 Lady Bulwer went to Paris in the autumn of 
 1839,* and then, she writes, 
 
 " began the organised system of espio7mage, by anony- 
 mous letters and foul conspiracies, which have never for 
 one moment ceased, and which, though of course it is very 
 easy to deny, it is also, thank God, from clouds of 
 witnesses and carefully preserved documents, equally easy 
 to prove indisputably, could the victim of them ever be so 
 fortunate as even to obtain the tardy justice of a public 
 tribunal. But what earthly hope or chance has a penniless 
 martyr } " 
 
 The only drawback that Lady Bulwer found to 
 her sejotir in Paris was that Sir Edward happened 
 to have a brother there at the time as secretary 
 of legation, "who was in every respect worthy of 
 him ; " but as he was physically as well as morally 
 utterly insignificant, it was very easy to pass him 
 without having the annoyance of seeing him, which 
 she accordingly made up her mind to do. And 
 
 * In the Paris correspondence of the Court journal for September 
 7th, 1839, ^ fi^^ ^^ following: — 
 
 "Among the recent arrivals is, I understand, Lady Bulwer, who 
 intends to remain here twelve months, during which she will follow 
 up closely her literary avocations." 
 
l60 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 one day, when dining at Lord Aylmer's, Lady 
 Aylmer told her that she had invited all the Corps 
 Diplomatique to a ball she intended giving the 
 following week except Mr. Henry Bulwer, the 
 little secretary. 
 
 " Pray, my dear Lady Aylmer," said Lady Bulwer, 
 " do not leave him out on my account, as I shall 
 have so many more agreeable objects to look at 
 that I should not even see that he was in the room." 
 
 But Lady Aylmer persisted in not inviting him, 
 and the ball took place accordingly without being 
 graced with his presence. 
 
 About a week after it Lady Bulwer was again 
 dining at Lord Aylmer's, when, after dinner, one 
 of his pretty nieces took up the Momiing Post, 
 and said, " Good heavens, Lady Bulwer, have you 
 seen this ?" pointing to a paragraph and handing 
 her the paper, adding as she did so, " What an 
 abominable falsehood, when he was not even in- 
 vited!" 
 
 " No!" said Lady Bulwer; "what is it.^" 
 
 The following was the paragraph in question, 
 which appeared in the Morning Post of Friday, 
 October iSth, 1839 : — 
 
 " A curious scene occurred here the other evening at the 
 soiree of Lady Aylmer. Lady Bulwer, who is resident 
 here, and whose connubial wrongs are a motto of notoriety, 
 is occupied, it is said, with a novel which, Hke ' Cheveley,' 
 may strike home to many persons. Sir Edward Lytton 
 Bulwer's brother, Henry Bulwer, principally known by 
 a book on French statistics, the materials of which he 
 stole from the works of Moreau and Louis Goldsmid, is 
 charge d'ajfaires here during Lord Granville's absence. 
 
A MALICIOUS LIBEL. l6l 
 
 At Lady Aylmer's Mr. Henry Bulwer met Lady Bulvver 
 and ventured to bow to her, the consequence of which 
 was that her Ladyship, to his great discomfiture and the 
 amusement of all present, pulled certain wry faces, the 
 meaning of which could not be mistaken. The scene is 
 described as having been most grotesque upon the 
 precipitate retreat of England's envoy. I may add 
 that Lord Granville's absence is deeply regretted by men 
 of all shades of opinion. Personally his Lordship is highly 
 respected ; and, at all events, while he is here the dignity 
 and character of our country are not compromised." 
 
 This ridiculous libel appeared also in the Court 
 Jottrnal of October 19th, 1839, in which paper the 
 following highly imaginative account of the episode 
 appeared : — 
 
 "A scene took place a few evenings since at Lady 
 Aylmer's soiree which has afforded the Parisians much 
 food for gossip and comment. Mr. Henry Bulwer, who 
 represents Lord Granville during his Lordship's absence, 
 was passing through one of the elegant saloons, when 
 he encountered Lady Bulwer, who has been residing in 
 Paris for some time, to whom he politely bowed. Her 
 Ladyship, who, it is said, had gone to the soiree with 
 the express intention of insulting her husband's brother, 
 made a dead stop as he passed, and placing her arms 
 akimbo, commenced a series of grimaces that have scarcely 
 been equalled since the best days of Grimaldi, and con- 
 tinued her vulgar gestures until Mr. Bulwer had passed 
 beyond her sight. The affair has created a feeling of 
 disgust in the minds of all persons here, and it is probable 
 that her Ladyship will not have another opportunity of 
 displaying her grotesque performance either at Lady 
 Aylmer's or elsewhere." 
 
 The difference between the two versions arises 
 of course from the fact that Mr. Henry Bulwer was, 
 
 II 
 
1 62 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 for certain reasons, a persona gratissima to the editor 
 of the Court Journal, who lost no opportunity of 
 singing the praises of his patron. Thus in the 
 Court Journal o( September 28th, 1839, I read : — 
 
 " Mr. Bulwer is said to be a great favourite, not only 
 at the French Court, but also with the President of the 
 
 Council It is reported here that Lord Ponsonby 
 
 is about to retire from Constantinople, and that he will 
 be succeeded by Mr. Bulwer." 
 
 And again, on October 5th of the same year : — 
 
 " Mr. Bulwer, whose conciliatory manners have procured 
 him many friends here in the Court circle " 
 
 and so on. 
 
 Lady Bulwer, though at first disposed to treat 
 the attacks of her enemies with silent contempt, was 
 advised that she could not allow the matter to rest, 
 and accordingly wrote the following letter, which 
 appeared in the Morning Post of October 31st, 
 1839:— 
 
 Lady Lytton Bulwer to the Editor 
 OF THE " Morning Post." 
 
 " 30, Rue de Rivoli, Paris, Oct. zZth, 1839. 
 " Sir, — Disagreeable as it is to me to have my name 
 dragged before the public, it is something more than 
 disagreeable to have my life lied away. All other injuries 
 as a woman I have been compelled to submit to ; but, 
 for my children's sake, I will not tamely submit to be 
 grossly vilified and defamed in newspapers. Li one of 
 your journals of last week there was a paragraph from 
 your Paris correspondent purporting to be a description 
 of a scene that had taken place at Lady Aylmer's, wherein 
 I was described as acting like a poissarde towards Mr. 
 Henry Lytton Bulwer. Now I have no doubt you will 
 be as much surprised as I was to see such a falsehood 
 
A REFUTATION. 1 63 
 
 in your very respectable journal when I tell you that 
 no such scene ever took place, inasmuch as Mr. Henry 
 Buhver was not, nor ever has been, at Lady Aylmer's 
 since I have been at Paris, as her Ladyship, with great 
 delicacy of feeling, avoided asking him on my account, 
 though I can have no possible objection to meet any 
 member of the Bulwer family, / never having injured them, 
 however much they may have injured me. I know it is 
 their object, if possible, to hunt me from society ; but 
 surely they might resort to more honourable and gen- 
 tlemanlike stratagems than that of propagating gross 
 falsehoods of me through the medium of the public press. 
 When the above-alluded-to paragraph appeared in the 
 Morning Post I was advised by all my friends here to 
 take no notice of so palpable a misstatement, but having 
 this day received letters from England telling me that 
 it had been repeated more violently and with greater 
 exaggeration in the Court yournal of the 19th, I am com- 
 pelled to call upon you to publish this contradiction of 
 so cruel a calumny in the columns of your next paper, 
 which, I am sure, is conducted on principles of too much 
 justice to wilfully contribute to the unmanly oppression 
 of a persecuted woman. Knowing as I do the contempt- 
 ible source from which the Court Joiinml got its malicious 
 falsehoods, I cannot degrade myself by thinking it worth 
 while to contradict anything it may, in the plenitude 
 of its insanity, think fit to pander to the profligate and 
 amuse the public with. I have the honour to be, Sir, 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 " RosiNA Lytton Bulwer. 
 
 " P.S. — I think it further right to state that I have 
 never yet met Mr, Henry Bulwer in any society in Paris, 
 so could not ever have had an opportunity of acting as 
 described." 
 
 The Paris correspondent of the same journal 
 subsequently wrote an apology, which was published 
 
164 T>IFE OF LADV LYTTON. 
 
 in the Mornm^ Pos^ oi^ NovQmhe.r i ith, 1839. It ran 
 thus : — 
 
 "Re Lady Lytton Bulwer. — To the Editor of 
 THE ' Morning Post.' 
 
 " Having perused Lady Lytton Bulwer's letter in the 
 Moiiiing Post of October 31st, justice to her Ladyship 
 requires me to state, upon strict inquiry, I find that 
 no such scene as that described in my correspondence 
 of October i8th has taken place at Lady Aylmer's. 
 
 " I deeply regret that, relying upon the affirmation of 
 persons who alleged that the story was told them by Mr. 
 Henry Lytton Bulwer himself, I should have been the un- 
 intentional means of giving pain to Lady Lytton Bulwer ; 
 and that a purely political paragraph should have 
 annoyed her Ladyship in the slightest manner, which 
 was far from the object of your Paris correspondent." 
 
 After this Lady Bulv^er deemed it unnecessary 
 to take any further proceedings against the Morning 
 Post, but with regard to the Court Journal she was 
 otherwise advised. To resume from " Nemesis": — 
 
 " Her solicitor, Mr. Hyde, wrote to her immediately 
 on the appearance of this infamous libel, and told her if 
 possible to try and be calm under such an outrage, as it 
 might turn out to be the most fortunate thing that had 
 ever happened to her, as he should instantly bring an 
 action for libel against the editor of the Court JourJial, 
 and that would afford an opportunity of showing in open 
 court of what the amiable brothers Bulwer were capable 
 in point of truth and honour." 
 
 Mr. Hyde's anticipations were unfortunately 
 over sanguine so far as a complete exposure of 
 the brothers was concerned. The trial duly came 
 off; but Sir Edward Bulwer, with unexampled 
 generosity, not only permitted his wife to bring 
 
ACTION AGAINST THE "COURT JOURNAL." 1 65 
 
 the action (being a married woman, she was unable 
 to sue without his consent), but even added his 
 own name as nominal plaintiff, thereby diverting 
 attention from the part which he and Mr. Henry 
 Bulwer had played in the matter, and leaving the 
 editor of the Court Journal to bear all the blame 
 and defray all the expenses. At this trial Mr. 
 Hyde had retained Sir Frederick Pollock for 
 Lady Bulwer. She writes regarding it : — • 
 
 " The impudent and, even for English apathy, rather 
 too improbable defence which the libellers set up was 
 that Lady Bulwer had libelled herself to bring herself 
 into public notice ! Whereupon Sir Frederick Pollock, 
 in the very able and eloquent speech which he made on 
 the occasion, observed, ' Why, even in a court of justice 
 it would appear that this poor lady cannot be secure from 
 the base stratagems of her calumniators,' in reply to 
 which the clumsy counsel for the amiable brothers asked, 
 with an air of Brummagem candour, ' What motive could 
 Sir Edward Bulwer or Mr. Henry Bulwer possibly have for 
 libelling Lady Bulwer .'' ' ' The motive,' rejoined Sir 
 Frederick Pollock, ' is set forth plainly enough, indeed, 
 rather too much so in the last line of the libel, namely that 
 the conduct attributed to this much-outraged lady would 
 exclude her from all society.' " 
 
 The result was that Lady Bulwer obtained a 
 verdict for fifty pounds and costs, which very possibly, 
 as she says, " only served to heap fuel on the fire 
 of their black malice, for from that time the plot 
 began to thicken." 
 
 I will insert here a letter written some time 
 afterwards to the editor of Galignani s Messenger 
 with reference to this trial by Mr. Henry Bulwer 
 
1 66 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON, 
 
 himself, and copied in the Co2irt Journal of 
 March 28th, 1840 : — 
 
 " Rue de Courcelles, March 2T,rd, 1840. 
 
 " Sir,— 
 
 " Having observed in your report of the proceed- 
 ings in the Cour Correctionnelle of last Friday a passage 
 from which it appeared that M. Berryer had said that Lady 
 Buhver had brought an action against me for Hbel and 
 had gained her suit, I thought it necessary to apply to 
 M. Berryer to request that if he had ever asserted or 
 insinuated that I had anything to do with the action 
 brought against the Court Journal by Lady Bulwer, he 
 would retract so unjust and improper a misrepresentation. 
 
 " M. Berryer replied to me by saying that he did 
 erroneously assert in the first instance that the action 
 was brought against me, but that he had immediately 
 corrected his mistake, and explained that it was brought 
 against the newspaper, and that my name was only used 
 b)^ him in this explanation as having been mentioned, 
 together with that of Lady Bulwer, in the article which 
 gave rise to the cause. M. Berryer's reply being perfectly 
 satisfactory (since the article prosecuted was some foolish 
 fiction as to a meeting between Lady Bulwer and myself), 
 and removing every impression on my mind as to an 
 unjustifiable statement having been made and persisted 
 in (a circumstance which I could never have submitted 
 to), I deem it due to myself and M. Berryer, who 
 seems to have been honourably anxious to correct an 
 unintentional mistake, to request that by publishing this 
 letter you will rectify the report which attracted my 
 attention. 
 
 " I have the honour, etc., 
 
 " Henry Lytton Bulwer." 
 
 The editor of the Cotirt Journal appends to 
 this the following note : — 
 
 " With reference to the proceedings above alluded to, 
 
THE editor's explanation. 1 6/ 
 
 we feel it necessary to repeat that the matter in question 
 which formed the subject of Lady Bulwer's action was 
 received from an anonymous correspondent, and that we 
 have never been in communication with Mr. H. L. Bulwer 
 or any member of his family. The action brought by 
 Lady Bulwer was not against Mr. H. L. Bulwer, but 
 against the proprietors of the Court Journal, upon whom 
 the costs of the proceedings and the verdict fall ex- 
 clusively. — Ed. C.jy 
 
 The best comment upon this editorial explana- 
 tion is that of Lady Bulwer herself. 
 
 " This was," she writes, " as the lawyers say, proving too 
 much with a vengeance, for, as the other papers of the 
 day truly remarked, ' the law of libel is far too stringent 
 in England for any editor to run so ruinous a risk as to 
 publish so gross a one simply upon anonymous authority- 
 and in the next place, if it were anonymous, how could 
 the editor take upon him to assert so positively that it 
 came neither from Sir Edward Bulwer nor from Mr. 
 Henry Bulwer.''' Here again came the beautiful dis- 
 crepancy between public statements and private facts, 
 for in all the editor's carefully preserved letters to Lady 
 Bulwer he most bitterly and categorically complains of 
 the cruel and unscrupulous manner in which Sir Edward 
 Bulwer and his brother had first entrapped him into 
 publishing the libel, and then betrayed and left him in 
 the lurch to bear the brunt of the onerous proceedings 
 agamst him." 
 
 This guileless editor v^^as, in fact, seduced by the 
 blandishments of Mr. Edwin James, who for many 
 years acted as a sort of jackal and man-of-all-work 
 to Sir Edward Bulwer, and on this occasion pro- 
 cured the insertion of the libel by guaranteeing 
 its literal truth on the authority of no less a 
 personage than Sir Edward himself 
 
l68 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 But enough upon this subject. One plot having 
 disastrously failed, it became necessary for Lady 
 Bulwer's enemies to devise another of a more 
 dangerous and unscrupulous sort ; and it will be 
 needful for me to deal with this at some length 
 in another chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CONSPIRACY TO SEIZE LADY BULWER's PAPERS. 
 
 At this time Lady Bulwer was living at 30 bis, 
 Rue de Rivoli ; and though she has unfortunately 
 left no record of her social life in Paris, I may 
 quote a few fragments from contemporary papers 
 which prove that she mixed in the highest circles 
 of Parisian society, was much admired, and con- 
 siderably run after. Thus I read in an issue of 
 the Cotcri Journal ior December 28th, 1839: — 
 
 " Lady Granville's first soiree dansante for the season 
 was given at the British Embassy on the 20th. There 
 was a most numerous assemblage of Enghsh nobility and 
 fashionables, including Lord and Lady Canterbury, Lord 
 and Lady Clarendon, Lady Aldborough, Lady Lytton 
 Bulwer, etc." 
 
 Again, January nth, 1840: — 
 
 " The ball given by the Russian Prince Tonfakin and 
 the soirees of the Sardinian Ambassador, the Marquess 
 de BrignoUes, Countess dAppouy, Lady Bulwer, and the 
 Viscountess Canterbury are a theme of comment among 
 the elite of this gayest and most brilliant of capitals," 
 
 One more extract, February 22nd, 1840 : — 
 
 " Lady Lytton Bulwer was also a component in the 
 galaxy of female loveliness." 
 
 This state of things was, however, anything bu 
 
I70 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 agreeable to Sir Edward Bulwer ; and in the latter 
 part of 1839 he began to set on foot inquiries as 
 to his wife's character and behaviour, from which 
 he evidently hoped to elicit something scandalous, 
 or at least unfavourable to her reputation, and 
 thereby deprive her of the position which her 
 beauty, talents, and misfortunes had won. 
 
 I subjoin extracts from a letter written at Bath 
 by a friend, and dated October 4th, 1839 : — 
 
 " Dearest Lady Bulwer,— 
 
 " I hope you will as soon as you possibly can 
 after you receive this set off for England, as there is a 
 vile conspiracy hatching against you, headed, no doubt, 
 by Sir E. L. B. I went to Clifton for a few hours 
 yesterday, but on my return found poor Mrs. Stockman, 
 full of indignation and zeal, awaiting my arrival to 
 tell me that in the morning, about eleven o'clock, a gentle- 
 man, medium height, hair dark and brushed up and 
 rather rough, in age about forty, white silk stockings, 
 pumps, and evening coat, called upon her, and began 
 asking numerous questions, the answers to which he 
 took down in writing. The principal questions were if 
 
 Mr. H had ever taken or paid for lodgings in her 
 
 house .-* if ever she had seen anything to make her 
 
 believe Mr. H was otherwise than on the footing 
 
 of a friend ? if a person sleeping in the garret could hear 
 the door between the dressing-room and your room open 
 in the night ? if she knew anything of the removal of 
 a chest of drawers, and a key being lost, and a plate 
 being put on the keyhole ? if you had ever received money 
 
 from Mr. H ? where Anne and Harding were .? and 
 
 a great many more questions, which Mrs. Stockman, had 
 she been tutored, could not have answered better; for the 
 man was much provoked by her asseverations, and said 
 musingly, ' Very strange ; I must have been misinformed.' 
 He knew every circumstance of your life, even the most 
 
A WARNING. 171 
 
 minute particulars. He was two hours with Mrs. Stock- 
 man, and it is impossible to tell you all he said, but you 
 have been very closely watched by some one. He said 
 Mott met you in Paris, and lodged opposite to you ; that 
 he remained in your rooms till twelve or one at night ; that 
 you were going to Naples because he was going; that some 
 
 conversation that took place between Miss B and 
 
 Mr. H relative to the dog one night when you were 
 
 out could only have been told to you by Mr. H in 
 
 your own room in the middle of the night, as Mr. H 
 
 had retired when you came home, and was not up 
 
 when you told Miss B that Mr. H had told you 
 
 of it ; that Mr. H 's mother and sister had said that 
 
 Mr. H had made you a present of his carriage, that 
 
 you had had his arms taken out and your own inserted, 
 that he had ruined himself for you, that you had broken 
 his wife's heart. He asked all sorts of questions relative 
 
 to Mr. H 's illness, and if you were not up with him 
 
 all night in your dressing-gown ? that your former flirtations 
 with a great personage had been the cause, together with 
 
 your temper, of the separation between Sir E and 
 
 yourself ; that you had tried every means in your power 
 to reconcile him to you. He asked if you did not live 
 very extravagantly, and how you could support such 
 extravagance if you did not receive money from Mr. 
 
 H .'' Mrs. Stockman said I had advanced you 
 
 money before your book came out, and then that had 
 helped you materially ; she said that you were to pay 
 her in October. . . . Mrs. Stockman gave the most 
 appropriate answers. She said you were a most virtuous 
 and high-minded lady, and neither she nor anybody else 
 could say with truth that they had ever seen you behave 
 otherwise ; that Anne's and Harding's testimony was not 
 to be taken, from their abandoned characters, neither 
 
 Miss B 's, for she went to bed drunk every night. 
 
 He said, 'But if she did, she could be sober again at 
 three in the morning, when she heard the door open 
 
 between Mr. H 's and your room.' Mrs. Stockman 
 
 said, drunk or sober, she would defy anybody to hear that 
 
1/2 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 from the garret. . . . Take care whom you come to 
 England with, for you will be very closely watched. . . . 
 
 Mrs. S is now here ; she says the man was followed 
 
 to some place where he was a long time in conversation 
 with White, the charwoman ; he then went to Walcot 
 Street to find out Rory O'Toole, because Rory knew 
 where that horrid Anne lived. . . . He had told Mrs. 
 
 S he had been to Ireland and to France to gather 
 
 particulars. . . . When Mrs. Stockman said Sir E. L. 
 
 B was living with Miss Deacon, the man's face 
 
 flushed, and he looked savage." 
 
 The object of these Inquiries is of coarse obvious 
 enough. Sir Edward Bulwer w^as desperately 
 anxious to get rid of his injured wife altogether, 
 and he spared no pains or expense in endeavouring 
 to collect evidence against her character which 
 would justify him in instituting proceedings for a 
 divorce with fair hopes of success. Failing utterly 
 in this amiable design, he resorted to the gentle- 
 manly and honourable expedient of employing 
 agents in Paris not only to carry on the system of 
 espionage, but to purloin her private papers and 
 correspondence from her lodgings. The history 
 of this episode will be told in Lady Bulwer's own 
 words : — 
 
 " A very brief time had elapsed after the action for 
 libel, when the first night Lady Bulwer went to the 
 Tuileries, which happened to be the then King's birthday, 
 there were great illuminations, which, of course, all the 
 servants turned out to see ; and on her return from 
 Court, her maid said, while undressing her, — 
 
 '"If you please, my Lady, Phoebe wishes to speak to 
 you.' 
 
 " Now, Phoebe being the cook, Lady Bulwer could not 
 
A FRESH PLOT. 1 73 
 
 imagine what she could want at that time of night, and 
 asked if the morning would not do as well ? but the maid 
 said she had particularly requested to see her mistress 
 that night. 
 
 " ' Oh, very well,' said the latter ; ' as soon as I have my 
 dressing-gown on she may come up.' 
 
 " When she did so, after apologising for her intrusion 
 at that hour, she said, — 
 
 " ' But the fact is, I thought it better to lose no more 
 time in telling your Ladyship that for the last fortnight 
 every time I stirred out I have been followed by two 
 men — Englishmen, one a great, fat, red-faced man, the 
 other a lean, sallow, lame man, who have always been 
 trying to enter into conversation with me, but I never 
 would answer them ; however, to-night, when your Lady- 
 ship went to the Tuileries, they stood beside the porta 
 cochkre to see you get into the carriage, and as soon as you 
 had driven off, they offered me a drageoir of bonbons, and 
 asked if I would not like to go and see the illuminations .'' 
 I said I was going to do so by-and-bye with a friend. Still 
 they stayed on, and at length asked me if I did not 
 live with Lady Bulwer .'' I said, " Yes," at which they 
 began asking me the most infamous questions, which put 
 me in a terrible rage ; but I thought it better to dissemble 
 and answer like a simple fool, to let them think I was 
 a simple fool that they could get anything out of, so 
 that I might the better find out what they were at ' 
 
 " ' That was very well judged of you,' interrupted Lady 
 Bulwer, ' but, pray, what were the questions they did ask 
 you .'* ' 
 
 " ' Why, really, my Lady, I am almost ashamed to tell 
 you, only I think you ought to know, and to let some 
 lawyer know, as I am convinced there is some wicked 
 plot going on against you.' 
 
 " ' Nothing more likely ; but what questions did they 
 ask ? ' 
 
 " ' First, if when gentlemen called you did not send 
 the servants out of the way .'' ' 
 
 " ' " Oh, dear no," said I, keeping down my rage as well 
 
1/4 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 as I could, " for, as there are but three of us, nothing makes 
 her Ladyship so angry as that any of us should stir 
 out; besides, the only gentlemen that do call are old 
 
 General H and his daughters, and that little Mr. 
 
 H and his wig, and Lord and Lady A ." 
 
 " ' " Well, now, but, upon your honour, did none of you 
 ever return and find the drawing-room door locked ? " 
 
 " * I could have spit in the fellow's face, but again I 
 mastered myself, and all I said was, " No ! upon my 
 honour, or iipon my oath, if you like that better." 
 
 " ' " Come now, my good girl," said the fat brute, chuck- 
 ing me under the chin, " I see you are a sensible woman ; 
 couldn't you, for three or four hundred pounds, swear 
 the very contrary } " 
 
 " * " No," said I, indignantly ; " I could not perjure 
 myself even for three or four hundred pounds ; so you had 
 better take yourselves off, and let me alone." 
 
 "'"I should like very much to come and drink tea 
 with you some night when your mistress is out," persisted 
 the fellow, nothing daunted, " for you are a very pretty 
 woman." 
 
 " ' " TJiafs a He, on the face of it, at all events," said I, 
 " for I'm as ugly as the business you seem to be upon." 
 
 " ' At this both of them set up a great laugh, and the 
 fat wretch said, " Well, you are no fool, at all events, and 
 I do wish you would let me come and drink tea with you 
 the first evening your mistress dines out ; will you .'* do say 
 you will." 
 
 " ' Now, my Lady, the thought struck me that it would 
 be a very good plan if we could get these wretches into 
 the house, and you have a lawyer here to confront them, 
 so I hesitated, that he might press me, which he did ; and 
 then I said, "Well, perhaps, but I don't know what day 
 her Ladyship may dine out next ; but good-night now, 
 for I must not stay talking any longer ; " and with that 
 I ran upstairs, and shut the door in their face.' 
 
 " ' You acted very well, Phoebe, and I am very much 
 obliged to you ; and to-morrow I'll send for M. 
 Ledru, and consult with him as to the best plan of un- 
 
A COUNTERPLOT. 1/5 
 
 masking this conspiracy before it goes any farther ; and I 
 am very grateful to you for putting me on my guard.' 
 
 " The next morning poor Lady Bulwer, who had indeed, 
 as her amiable and honourable husband had reminded 
 her, neither father, nor brother, nor any other earthly 
 help to turn to, sent for M. Ledru, the. jurisconsulte ; and 
 in the meanwhile, when she expressed her fears of the 
 fresh and still more infamous conspiracy that was now 
 got up against her, had to contend with the usual amount 
 of apathetic English twaddle as to what motive Sir 
 Edward Bulwer could possibly have for such conduct. 
 
 " When M. Charles Ledru came, his advice was that 
 the next time Phoebe met the fat spy, and he asked her 
 to let him come and drink tea with her, she should 
 agree to it on the proviso that her mistress dined out, 
 and return home on the pretence of finding out, but in 
 reality to let Lady Bulwer know, who would then send 
 for the jjLrisconsiiltc, who would arrange the farther 
 programme. They had not long to wait, for two days 
 after Phoebe returned home in haste, saying she had 
 met the fat spy in the Marche St. Honore, and she had 
 come back to find that her mistress did not dine out, 
 and therefore returned to tell him that she did, and that 
 he might come at eight that evening ; meanwhile Lady 
 Bulwer wrote to M. Charles Ledru to tell him to come 
 immediately. He did so, and arranged to be there 
 with two gens cTarnies in the evening, advising Lady 
 Bulwer to have no light but the firelight in the drawing- 
 room, and to leave the door ajar that led from it into 
 the little boudoir where she used to write of a morning, 
 and, moreover, to leave the key in her secretaire and her 
 letters temptingly about, as most probably the fat spy's 
 great anxiety to get into the house was for the purpose 
 of tampering with her papers, and unless they could catch 
 him en flagrant delit, they could have no pretext for 
 arresting him ; for although coming to drink tea with 
 the maids may be felloiving, it is not felony. Lady 
 Bulwer accordingly unlocked the iron box in which they 
 were generally kept, and took one or two packets of 
 
1/6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON, 
 
 Sir Edward Bulwer's letters, red-tape-tied and temptingly 
 endorsed, giving the heads of their contents, and laid them 
 carelessly on the slab of the secretaire. 
 
 " Nor were the rest of the household idle. Phoebe 
 donned her smartest cap, and made a barmecide preparation 
 of a great display of tea-things and vacant muffin plates 
 pompously covered, as if containing ample supplies, and 
 according to the time immemorial high-life-below-stairs 
 custom when the masters and mistresses are from home, 
 laid them out in the dining-room instead of in the kitchen, 
 while the Pipelets of the concierge, the ugly porter, his 
 buxom wife, and piqiiante daughter, were all on the 
 qui Vive to usher in the fat filibusterer, M. Charles 
 Ledru and the two gens d'armes also waiting breathlessly 
 in the drawing-room to do honour to his arrival. 
 
 "True as never lover was to a trysting, as the 
 clock struck eight, the old porter's sonorous tambour 
 majeur voice was heard saying, * Allez toujours ; prennez 
 le grand escalier; mi Ladi dine en ville,' an injunction 
 which he lost no time in obeying, and still more with 
 the eagerness of a lover than the cautiousness of a 
 spy ; clearing four steps at a bound, his hand was on the 
 door-bell, which resounded to his touch, and Phoebe lost 
 no time in replying to the summons. 
 
 " ' Good-evening, my dear,' said the blood-red knight, 
 sotto voce. 
 
 " ' Oh I there's no occasion for whispering,' responded 
 the nymph ; ' her Ladyship is out, and you may speak 
 as loud as you like ;' and as there is nothing like example, 
 it must be confessed she uttered the amiable permission 
 in the shrillest and most shrewish tone possible. 
 
 " ' I say, my dear,' said the stout gentleman, suddenly 
 stopping as he strode across the ante-room ; ' I want to see 
 the little room off the sa//e d manger where Lady Bulwer 
 writes of a morning.' 
 
 "'La!' cried Phoebe pertly; 'one would suppose that 
 your trade must be drinking tea with all the maids that have 
 lived in this apartment, you seem so well acquainted with 
 the way the rooms lie.' 
 
THE SPIES TRAPPED. 1 7/ 
 
 " ' Perhaps,' grinned the fat philanderer, ' but you'll 
 let me see it, won't you ?' said he, placing his hand on 
 the lock of the drawing-room door. 
 
 " ' Yes, to be sure, but not there ; this way, through the 
 dining-room;' and the next minute, through the partially 
 open door leading from the drawing-room into the little 
 boudoir, by the lamp that Phoebe held, which threw 
 its red glare on the spy's still redder face. Lady Bulwer, 
 M. Ledru, and the two gens d'annes could see all that 
 passed. The lawyer put his finger on his lip, and held 
 his right hand out to keep the others back, as much as 
 to say, ' Not yet ; ' but presently the spy turned the key 
 in the secretaire, let down the leaf, and seeing the tempt- 
 ingly endorsed packets, seized them with a long-drawn 
 ' Ha !' of satisfaction, at which crisis the lawyer rushed in 
 upon him, and collared him, exclaiming, ' So, wretch ! this is 
 the second time this month that I have caught you at your 
 dirty work ! ' while Phoebe stood laughing, and pointing at the 
 detected spy, as she gibingly said, ' I'm a very pretty woman, 
 ain't I? at all events, I'm a very true one; and handsome 
 is that handsome does. Ha ! ha ! ha ! you'll come and 
 drink tea with me again soon ; now won't you ? for three or 
 four hundred pounds. Now couldn't you take another 
 cup, without quite so much gi^een in it .? Ha ! ha ! ha !' 
 
 " ' Silence, viper ! ' gasped the springed spy almost apo- 
 plectically ; ' this is an infamous trap in which I have been 
 caught.' 
 
 " ' It is indeed a most infamous one,' said Lady Bulwer, 
 now making her appearance, ' but one of your own setting 
 and baiting ; and now you have had a taste of its quality, 
 I hope you like it : as for your accurate knowledge of the 
 topography of my apartment, as it was his friend Lady 
 
 S 's, that of course you acquired from your Jiononrable 
 
 employer, Mr. Henry Bulwer.' 
 
 ** ' I am not bound to say who my employers are,' panted 
 the now perspiring pilferer. 
 
 " ' No, you needn't,' put in Phoebe, holding up a small 
 hand glass before him ; ' but don't you think that you 
 look a nice young man for a small tea-party ! ' 
 
 12 
 
178 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 " ' Do take that woman away, or I shall do her a 
 mischief.' 
 
 " ' No, you won't, for there is two GENTS DE armcs to take 
 yon away.' 
 
 " And hereupon the gens cVarmes stepped forward, and 
 the spy was taken in the snare which he thought he had 
 so cleverly laid for others ; there was, however, some infor- 
 mality in what we should call the warrant, so that the 
 lawyer and the gens d'annes were obliged to release him 
 for that night, when he lost no time in hurrying out of 
 the house, even faster than he had come into it, and rejoined 
 his coadjutor, the lank, lame man, who was hobbling up 
 and down outside, anxiously waiting to know the result of 
 * the beau stratagem.' 
 
 " As soon as M. Ledru had relieved his mind by the 
 energetic enunciation of a few ' Les laches ! les miserables ! 
 les infames!' he informed Lady Bulwer that the fat and 
 lean spies were two English attorneys living in Paris, 
 of the names of Lawson and Thackeray, whose chief 
 business consisted in doing dirty work of the same kind 
 as that in which they had so signally failed on the present 
 occasion. 
 
 " But, as will soon be seen, all this was but the com- 
 mencement of a long and dastardly conspiracy, often so 
 paltry and comparatively motiveless as to excite incredulity 
 rather than compassion ; and to produce such an effect was 
 of course one phase of the calculated plan upon which this 
 honourable and gentlemanlike plot was organised. It 
 must not be supposed that while there was so much dirty 
 work doing, and still to be done, so great an adept 
 at it as Mr. Loaden was idle ; far from it. He was sent 
 over to France to play his old game of bringing Lady 
 Bulwer's name on the tapis in steamboats and other public 
 conveyances, and thereupon disseminating every lie that 
 his honourable client could possibly desire. Meanwhile 
 poor Lady Bulwer was receiving the pleasing intelligence 
 
 that Mrs. B had been figuring in divers Continental 
 
 towns and English watering-places as Lady Bulwer, and, 
 of course, leaving no very enviable or reputable rcnonimde 
 
loaden's schemes. 179 
 
 after her ; but, like all that the amiable Sir Edward did, 
 this was only another item of the deep-laid scheme to 
 additionally outrage and insult his already too grossly 
 injured wife and blacken her name by having her con- 
 founded with this infamous woman. 
 
 " Mr. Loaden's modus operandi was as follows. He 
 went about ringing at every door where Lady Bulwer 
 visited, and whenever he could gain admission commenced 
 operations by saying, ' My dear madam, I understand 
 you are intimate with Lady Bulwer; now, really, as you 
 have daughters, I come to warn you she is not a person 
 with whom you ought to allow them to associate.' He 
 met, however, with much the same indignant reception 
 and summary dismissal at every house where he called, 
 and had nothing left but to go to M. Ledru and say 
 that he had come, for Lady Bulwer's sake, to try and 
 get him to persuade her to withdraw her action against 
 Lawson and Thackeray, as it would be her ruin. 
 
 "'Not only she, but her friends,' said M. Ledru, 'are 
 so convinced that a public tribunal is the only thing 
 that can redress her grievous wrongs, and expose be- 
 yond the power of future lies the infamous conspiracy 
 that has been going on against her, that even were she 
 inclined to waive the punishment of Sir Edward's emissaries, 
 no friend, much less any lawyer, would allow her to do so. 
 Finding he could do nothing with any one, at least on 
 his client's terms, which were always to grasp everything 
 and give nothing, Loaden next wended his way to Lady 
 Bulwer's house, and began interrogating the porter as 
 to what hour he would be sure to find her at home." 
 
 Lady Lytton's account of this interviev^^, M^hen it 
 came off, is as foUov^s : — 
 
 " Everything was circumstantially reported to Lady 
 Bulwer as it occurred by her faithful servants, and so 
 she knew at once, from the description, that the mysterious 
 visitor who would not leave his name was Loaden. Ac- 
 cordingly she convened between twenty and thirty ladies 
 
l80 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 and gentlemen to witness his summary ejection on the 
 following day, when he made his thief-like call, 
 
 " The next day came, and they were all waiting in 
 breathless expectation for the little reptile's arrival. 
 
 " Two o'clock, and nearly half-past, when a little 
 sneaking ring was heard at the ante-room door ; and 
 presently Fritz — the great, tall, impassible German — threw 
 open the folding doors and announced ' Monsieur Loaden/ 
 whereupon Lady Bulwer rose, drawing herself up to her 
 full height, and pointing at arm's length to the wretched 
 little attorney the whole time she was speaking, said, 
 ' Fritz, you see that man ? look at him well, that you may 
 know him again, for you are not likely, with one ex- 
 ception, to see another such ill-looking fellow in all 
 Paris. Now show him out ; and never, under any pretext, 
 allow him to darken my doors again.' 
 
 "The cowardly Loaden, cowering with rage and fear, 
 and collecting the skirts of his coat, as if about to clear 
 d puddle at a leap, said, casting a furtive glance around, 
 * Nobody's going to touch me, I hope, for that would be 
 an assault.' 
 
 '^And as the little reptile walked through the rooms 
 Lady Bulwer stood mutely and rigidly, pointing at him 
 to marshal him out, till the doors had closed upon him, 
 when one loud ' Bravo !' burst from the assembled specta- 
 tors. ' You did that beautifully ! I was afraid at first you 
 would excite yourself, or condescend to address a single 
 syllable to the fellow, but nothing could be better.' 
 
 " These two months that were to linger on before this 
 trial could take place were both weary and costly ones 
 to Lady Bulwer, as, besides the four lawyers, she had 
 to keep the servants of several families in Paris, who had 
 been tampered with by the spies, as witnesses at her expense, 
 as the families with whom they had lived had gone ; so 
 that at first and last this charming little conspiracy cost 
 her several hundred pounds, the only means she had of 
 paying which was by writing : and it was chiefly upon this 
 account that Sir Edward and his equally honourable clique 
 felt it incumbent on them to cut the ground from under her. 
 
ANOTHER OUTRAGE. I 8 I 
 
 by doing everything, as far as in them lay, to crush her 
 books by the grossest, not even reviews of tJieni, but 
 personal abuse of her. As long as poor Mr. Bull lived, 
 their malice was in a great measure defeated, as he always 
 gave her large sums down, and behaved honourably to her 
 in every respect ; but no sooner was he dead, poor man, 
 than she had the pleasure of finding that every single 
 publisher of any note had had value received in some 
 shape or other, through the powerful literary and political 
 influence of the clique, to have nothing to say to her ; 
 so that she was driven into the exact strait that they 
 wished, namely to publish with penniless adventurers, 
 who first swamp a book by never advertising it, and then 
 swindle the author in the most barefaced and unscrupulous 
 manner. 
 
 " As when this action against Lawson and Thackeray 
 was over Lady Bulwer was intending to go to Italy 
 with a large party, she was looking out for a travelling 
 servant ; and one morning a slip of paper which had been 
 left with the porter was sent up to her, upon which was 
 
 written, 'If Lady Bulwer will call on Madame , No. , 
 
 Rue de , between two and three o'clock this afternoon, 
 
 she will hear of a most excellent travelling servant, who 
 can be highly recommended.' She laid the paper on 
 the table, resolving to go if she had time, but was very 
 busy that morning writing to her English lawyer, good 
 
 Mr. Hyde ; but, providentially for her, Sir H. W , who, 
 
 with his wife, lived next door to her, and who, from 
 being a very good linguist, used obligingly to copy any 
 letters or papers, which this charming conspiracy had given 
 rise to, into different languages, as they happened to 
 be required, called that morning to ask her to dine 
 with them, as they had a box for that evening at the 
 opera ; and after she had accepted the invitation, he said 
 as usual, ' Well, is there anything I can do for you to-day .' ' 
 
 " ' Why, yes,' said she, handing him the slip of paper 
 which had been sent up to her from the lodge ; ' if you 
 have time, I should be very much obliged to you if you 
 would call at this address, and inquire about the character 
 
1 82 LIFE OF LADV LYTTON. 
 
 of this servant, as men can always better find out the 
 character of men-servants.' 
 
 " ' Good God ! ' said he, stamping his foot, as soon as he 
 had glanced at the paper. ' Who on earth gave you 
 this?' 
 
 " ' I am sure I don't know,' said she. ' It was left with 
 the porter this morning, and he sent it up about an 
 hour ago.' 
 
 " On hearing this, Sir H. W , without another 
 
 word, seized his hat and rushed out of the room ; nor did 
 Lady Bulwer see him again till dinner-time, at his own 
 house, when he came in, accompanied by M. Ledru, both of 
 them exclaiming, 'The dastardly blackguards ! ' and then 
 gave the following account of their morning's adventure. 
 
 " ' As soon,' said Sir H , ' as I left you, the carriage was 
 
 fortunately at the door, and so I thought it best to take 
 M. Ledru with me ; for I must tell you the pretty escape 
 you have had of falling into one of the most damnable 
 snares that ever was laid, as the house you were so kindly 
 directed to in search of a servant was nothing more or less 
 than one of the most notorious houses of ill fame in all 
 Paris. And when we drove up there, who should be walk- 
 ing up and down, eagerly looking out, no doubt, for your 
 
 arrival, accompanied by H , of the Embassy, but Henry 
 
 Bulwer ! Now H is a great ass ; but, hang it ! I acquit 
 
 him of knowingly being an accomplice in so diabolical a plot. 
 He, of course, was innocently decoyed into the stroll, no 
 doubt to be an eye-witness of your abandoned infamy in 
 going to such a place.' 
 
 With this sample of the unscrupulous devices of 
 Lady Bulwer's enemies, I pass on to the trial of Sir 
 E. L. Bulwer's agents, Lawson and Thackeray. 
 
CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 ACTION AGAINST LAWSON AND THACKERAY. 
 
 The action against these individuals is of the highest 
 possible importance, affording as it does practically 
 conclusive evidence, not only of the systematic per- 
 secution to which Lady Bulwer was subjected, but 
 also of her amiable husband's complicity in the 
 designs of the spies, informers, and slanderers who 
 for years made her life a burden. I have accord- 
 ingly deemed it advisable to report the case simply 
 as it appeared in the contemporary newspapers, with- 
 out giving Lady Bulwer's version or any comments 
 of my own beyond what are absolutely necessary for 
 explanation. The following extracts, therefore, will 
 speak for themselves : — 
 
 '' Morning Post',' March 2\st, 1840. 
 " Paris Correspondence. 
 
 " To-morrow Lady Bulwer's affair comes on in the Sixth 
 Chamber of the Correctional Police. The case excites here 
 the deepest interest both in English and French circles, and 
 the court will certainly not hold the multitude which will 
 throng to hear this curious lawsuit. The counsel engaged 
 for Lady Bulwer are MM. Berryer, More, Chaix d'Est 
 Ange, and Charles Ledru. The latter is also principal in 
 the action for libel against Mr. Thackeray, Mr. Lawson's 
 clerk. M. Delangle, bdtonnier, chief of the order of advo- 
 cates, acts also for M. Charles Ledru, as the custom of the 
 
184 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 profession is that when an advocate brings an action he 
 mnst be assisted by the chief of the order. The process 
 on the part of Lady Bulwer is against Mr. Lawson, an 
 attorney, and Mr. Thackeray, his clerk, for having con- 
 spired and attempted to carry off the private papers of 
 Lady Bulwer by fraudulently penetrating into her house ; 
 secondly, for subornation and bribery of witnesses ; and, 
 thirdly, the action is against Thackeray alone for defama- 
 tion of Lady Bulwer by a letter which he published in the 
 Gazette des Tribiineaiix, in answer to one from M. Charles 
 Ledru, detailing the circumstances of the former being 
 found in Lady Bulvver's house. M. Charles Ledru brings 
 an action against Mr. Thackeray for the same letter. I 
 understand that French laws are not very clear upon the 
 point of violation of domicile, or what we may term trespass; 
 but the object of the prosecution appears to be more for 
 the purpose of affording Lady Bulvver's counsel an oppor- 
 tunity of making known to the world her persecution and 
 her persecutors. It is thus more an appeal to public 
 opinion than a recourse to criminal justice," 
 
 " Morning Post," March 2W1. 
 
 " The two actions brought by Lady Bulwer and her 
 counsel, M. Charles Ledru, against Messrs. Lawson and 
 Thackeray for subornation of witnesses and bribery, came 
 on in the Tribunal of Correctional Police on Friday ; 
 but the causes were postponed till Friday next, on the 
 application of counsel for the defendants, to enable 
 M. Odilon Barrot to appear for Sir E. L. Bulwer." 
 
 Same Date. 
 " Lady Lytton Bulwer's Process in Paris. 
 " The action brought by Lady Lytton Bulwer against 
 Mr. Lawson, an attorney practising in this capital, and Mr. 
 J. G. Thackeray, his clerk, came on this morning in the 
 Sixth Chamber of the Tribunal Correctional, under the 
 presidency of M. Periondel. The case excited great 
 interest, and at an early hour this small court was crowded 
 with elegantly-dressed ladies. Mrs. Trollope was present, 
 
LAWSON AND THACKERAY. 1 85 
 
 and appeared to watch the proceedings with great anxiety. 
 Lord Howden, Colonel Webster, and numerous other 
 English gentlemen were also in the court. The French 
 auditory was also considerable, attracted probably by the 
 fact that the celebrated advocate M. Berryer was engaged. 
 Long before the case opened the court was filled in every 
 part. At eleven o'clock it was called on. 
 
 " The counsel for Lady Bulvver were MM. Berryer, Chaix 
 d'Est Ange, More, and Ledru ; and for the defendant, 
 M. Blanchet. Mr. Lawson and Mr. Thackeray stood below 
 the bar assigned to prisoners. The latter was a fine-looking 
 man, with an open expression of countenance. The former 
 was by no means prepossessing. To the usual questions 
 put by the President, Mr. Lawson said he was born in 
 Jamaica, and practising as an attorney in Paris. Mr. 
 Thackeray said he was born in Madras, and was clerk to 
 Mr. Lawson. The President said that as M. Ledru's action 
 was against the same defendants, the same judgment should 
 apply to the two causes. The President then said that he 
 had received a letter from M. Odilon Barrot, the counsel, 
 stating that he held a brief for Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer, 
 but that he could not plead that day, as he was waiting for 
 the instructions of his client. 
 
 " M. Berryer : I cannot reply to M. Odilon Barrot in his 
 absence. Our action is neither against Sir E. L. Bulwer 
 nor Mr. H. Bulwer, but against Lawson and Thackeray. 
 The facts of the case are these. Lady Bulvver has been 
 living in Paris for some time. Her husband is in England, 
 and a deed of separation exists between them. She has 
 been in Paris the object of inquiries and observations, and 
 every means of bribery have been resorted to with her 
 servants. Many persons have essayed to obtain from them 
 certain declarations contrary to the honour of this lady. 
 The sanctity of her domicile has even been violated to pro- 
 cure evidence against her ; and one of the accused, Mr. 
 Thackeray, has been arrested in her house, having intro- 
 duced himself by attempting to corrupt her waiting-woman 
 in order to obtain false declarations against Lady Bulvver. 
 This attempt was particularly directed against her papers. 
 
1 86 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 This fact is the principal object of the action : the fact of 
 a fraudulent entrance by Mr. Thackeray whilst Mr. Lawson 
 was waiting at the door of Lady Bulwer's house. This led 
 to an explanation in the newspapers on the part of Mr. 
 Thackeray, whose letter was found so insulting to and 
 defamatory of Lady Bulwer that she found it necessary to 
 bring this action ; and M. Charles Ledru has pursued the 
 same course for libel in the same letter. This is the nature 
 of the present cause. 
 
 " The President : The presence of Lady Bulwer may 
 perhaps not be indispensable, but it might be useful. 
 
 "M. Berryer: It is not the custom in England for ladies 
 to appear in court on such occasions ; but if it be necessary 
 that she should be here to give explanations, the wish of 
 the court, however unpleasant it must be to Lady Bulwer's 
 feelings, must be obeyed. 
 
 " M. Blanchet, counsel for the defendants, now came 
 into court. He said, ' M. Odilon Barrot is to appear for 
 Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer, who is now in London ; and 
 Messrs. Lawson and Thackeray are his agents here. Sir E. 
 Bulwer wishes to take cognisance of the affair to know if 
 it be expedient to authorise or to assist Lady Bulwer in 
 the dispute, or, on the other hand, to refuse her that 
 assistance that she has not thought proper to claim from 
 him. M. Odilon Barrot can appear this day week.' 
 
 " M. Berryer : The tribunal is accustomed to authorise 
 the wife to bring an action without the assistance of the 
 husband when she is interested to obtain the prompt repa- 
 ration of a wrong caused by a fact designated as a crime 
 {delii). I must add that the deed of separation drawn up 
 between Lady Bulwer and her husband in conformity with 
 the English laws permits her to act for herself. This 
 cannot be denied, for it is but a few days since Lady 
 Bulwer brought an action in London against Mr. Henry 
 Bulwer, her brother-in-law, for libel, and obtained fifty 
 pounds damages. 
 
 "M. Blanchet (interrupting) : That is a mistake. Mr. 
 Henry Bulwer's name did not appear in the cause in 
 question. 
 
THE PARIS TRIAL, 1 8/ 
 
 " M. Berryer : Mr. Henry Bulwer was certainly not con- 
 demned ; nominally the action was against the editor of 
 the Co2irt Journal, for an article the writer of which he 
 refused to give up. I contend that the wife of an alien 
 here is authorised to have recourse to a court of law for any 
 wrong she may receive, and she cannot be met with a non- 
 suit. However. I attach great interest to what Sir E. L. 
 Bulwer's intervention may lead to. I can therefore be the 
 first in asking, since the interference is now announced, that 
 the cause may be postponed till this day week. 
 
 " M. Ternaux (King's Advocate) : In a week you will 
 be in the same position. It is a question to know if the 
 wife can sue isolated or alone. 
 
 " M. Blanchet : Mr. Lawson might take upon himself not 
 to insist upon the objection, but he is in a delicate position. 
 He represents here the interests of the husband. He has 
 acted by the precise orders of the husband. This is the 
 reason that he is obliged to wait till Sir E. L. Bulwer has 
 sent his instructions to M. Odilon Barrot, who will plead 
 for the husband. 
 
 " The trial was then postponed till Friday, March 27th, to 
 the evident disappointment of the numerous assemblage, 
 who retired from the court immediately. The turn which 
 this curious affair will take next Friday is, I need scarcely 
 add, the object of universal speculation. It was reported, 
 but I could not learn the fact positively, that Sir E. L. 
 Bulwer had arrived in Paris." 
 
 "■Morning Post" March 30///, 1840. 
 
 Leader. 
 
 " Lady Bulwer's action against Messrs. Lawson and 
 Thackeray came on before the Sixth Chamber of the 
 Tribunal Correctionnel de Police on Friday, in pursuance 
 of the adjournment to enable M. Odilon Barrot to appear for 
 Sir E. L. Bulwer. M. Barrot, in a long legal argument, con- 
 tended that neither the English nor French laws authorised 
 Lady Bulwer to proceed in this case without the consent 
 of her husband, which he, from consideration for public 
 decency, thought proper to withhold. M. Berryer replied 
 
1 88 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 in a most energetic and eloquent speech, quoting the deed 
 of separation and an opinion of Lord Ellenborough in 
 a similar cause to prove that it would be a monstrous 
 oppression not to permit Lady Bulvver to proceed against 
 these parties for their misconduct. The court, after 
 deliberating a considerable time, decided that as the 
 English laws required the consent of the husband in a civil 
 suit, and as that consent had not been obtained by Lady 
 Bulwer, she must be nonsuited. It appears from the report 
 that this decision will only lead to further delay, as Lady 
 Bulwer has still a remedy by the French laws to pursue her 
 action against the defendants. M. Charles Ledru's action 
 against Thackeray for libel was adjourned for a fortnight. 
 
 " We really think that Sir E. L. Bulwer's conduct is open 
 to serious comment ; for how is it possible that he can take 
 advantage of miserable quibbles to prevent his wife's case 
 from seeing thelight if there be not strong apprehensions on 
 his part that the actions of his avowed agents in Paris have 
 compromised himself as well as them .-• It is not by con- 
 cealment that the world will exonerate Sir E. L. Bulvver, for 
 public sympathy must naturally incline to an unprotected 
 lady who says that she has suffered grievous wrongs, and 
 yet is prevented by her legal, if not natural, protector 
 from obtaining redress from her oppressors on account of 
 a technical objection." 
 
 '' Morning Post," March loth. 
 
 " Lady Lytton Bulwer's Process." 
 
 (Extracts from Report.) 
 
 " The process of Lady Bulwer against Mr. Lawson, an 
 attorney practising in Paris, and Mr. Thackeray, his clerk, 
 is for subornation and bribery of witnesses and for fraudu- 
 lently penetrating into her domicile to purloin her papers, 
 as also for libel on the part of Mr. Thackeray. The action 
 of M. Charles Ledru against the clerk is also for a libel in 
 the same letter published in the Gazette des Tribuneaicx. 
 It may be remembered that the case was adjourned last 
 Friday to enable M. Odilon Barrot to receive instructions 
 
THE PARIS TRIAL. 1 89 
 
 from Sir Edward Lytton Bulvver, who is now in Paris. 
 This may be truly enrolled among the causes celebres, for 
 rarely has a case excited deeper and more general interest. 
 Considerable curiosity was raised, inasmuch as, by order of 
 the judges, Lady Bulvver was placed in the distressing 
 situation of havmg to appear in court. Long before the 
 proceedings commenced every corner of the court was 
 occupied, and amidst the dense mass were most ele- 
 gantly dressed ladies, the elite of English and French 
 fashionable society. . . . The same counsel appeared as on 
 the previous occasion. The appearance of M. Berryer was 
 looked for with interest from his magnificent speech in the 
 Chamber on Wednesday last, and his ' forensic ' display 
 was anticipated with equal curiosity. He has a very 
 commanding figure, with a remarkably fine head, searching 
 and expressive eyes, his action distinguished by its ease 
 and grace, and his voice rich, round, and melodious. M. 
 Odilon Barrot is a stern-looking man, with a conventicle 
 
 tone of voice. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " The case was a melancholy one, the exposure to the 
 world of one of its severest miseries and heaviest inflictions. 
 The proceedings were nevertheless unavoidable, for even 
 a separated wife must not be suspected ; and if she has 
 suffered wrong by a system of espionage, and the sainctity 
 of her dwelling has been violated, she is bound to seek for 
 protection and redress, however painful to her feelings, 
 from the hands of justice. M. Blanchet opened the pro- 
 ceedings by stating that Messrs. Lawson and Thackeray 
 had been obliged to call upon Sir E. L. Bulwer to become 
 a party in the case. Mr. Lawson is the representative in 
 France of Sir E. L. Bulwer in making certain inquiries as 
 to Lady Bulwer, his wife. Mr. Lawson accepted the 
 delicate mission, and in the course of its fulfilment the 
 circumstances arose upon which this action is founded. 
 Messrs. Lawson and Thackeray . . . did not think it 
 right to afford Lady Bulwer an opportunity of pursuing the 
 system of defaming her husband she had hitherto followed. 
 . . They were unwilling that Lady Bulwer, by accusing 
 
I 90 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 them of violation of domicile and other crimes, should 
 proclaim facts which ought to remain private." After a 
 protest from M. Berryer and some legal argument, the 
 President called upon Lady Bulwer ; " and she " (to resume 
 the report) " entered the court, accompanied by Mrs. 
 Trollope. Her Ladyship's appearance created some sensa- 
 tion, and evident marks of sympathy were evinced for her 
 excessive agitation. The French criticisms were that she 
 was a belle dame and quite an elegante. Two chairs were 
 placed beside the box of the King's Advocate for Lady 
 Bulwer and Mrs. Trollope. To the customary questions as 
 to name, residence, etc., of the President, she replied in 
 French that her ordinary residence was 30 bis, Rue de 
 Rivoli, and that she was of no profession. I am ashamed 
 to say that French politeness is eschewed in legal forms, 
 and she was asked that most delicate of all questions to 
 put to a lady — her age. I think she said thirty-five. M. 
 Odilon Barrot proceeded to explain Sir E. L. Bulwer's 
 conduct. His only object was to avoid public scandal. M. 
 Barrot then read the following letter which he had received 
 from Sir Edward : — 
 
 " ' I have to ask at your hands the support of your oratory 
 and of your character in a distressing circumstance which 
 concerns me. An action has been brought before the 
 French tribunals against Mr. Lawson, my agent, by Lady 
 Bulwer. I have informed myself of the facts which serve 
 as a pretext to this process, and I feel persuaded that they 
 have been got up with the sole purpose of provoking 
 scandal and to prejudge the wrongs of which I have 
 myself to complain at the hands of Lady Bulwer as a 
 husband and a father. I must now put in my interdiction 
 against my wife bringing such an action in a foreign 
 tribunal. 
 
 " ' In all countries the married woman, even if separated 
 from her husband by legal means, cannot bring any action 
 without his consent or that of the law. The English 
 courts of justice will appear to you, as to me, more 
 capable of appreciating and judging the discussions the 
 miblicity of which is provoked, and which interest the 
 
SIR E. bulwer's position. iqi 
 
 honour of a whole family, as well as the future welfare of 
 my children. 
 
 " ' I have the honour, etc., 
 
 '"E. L. BULWER.' 
 
 " ' Sir E. Bulwer,' continued M. Odilon Barrot, * is now 
 ready to repeat verbally his refusal. We have only to dis- 
 cuss a question of law, which is at the same time one of 
 public decorum.' M. Barrot then argued that Lady Bulwer 
 could not prosecute her action without her husband's con- 
 sent unless she first appealed to the tribunal to set aside 
 her husband's authority. 
 
 " M. Berryer, in an eloquent reply, commented strongly 
 upon Sir Edward's conduct in protecting men who were 
 admittedly his own agents against the consequences of an 
 outrage on his wife. He contended that Lady Bulwer had 
 a right to sue in her own name by the terms of the deed of 
 separation, and concluded : ' If I were in England, I would 
 say to the tribunal, " In the name of the Queen of the three 
 kingdoms, I plead for a woman whose husband has refused 
 to her his authority to demand justice ; " and I would ask 
 for that woman the reparation which the law was bound 
 to grant her. This is the law of the case. What is its 
 morality .'' It is said that we seek for scandal. Scandal, 
 indeed ! the scandal is in the protection which is given to 
 the guilty.' 
 
 "Both counsel again addressed the court; and then M. 
 Ternaux, substitute of the Procureur du Roi, summed up 
 the case in a manner adverse to Lady Bulwer's claims. 
 The Tribunal retired at ten minutes to one, and at a 
 quarter past two delivered judgment to the effect that 
 Lady Bulwer could not sustain the action in her own name, 
 that she was therefore nonsuited, and that she must pay 
 the costs of the proceedings." 
 
 " April 4th, 1840. — SirE. L. Bulwer and his solicitor, Mr. 
 Loaden, are still here. The latter has been attempting 
 a compromise with Lady Bulwer, but Lady Bulwer ordered 
 him out of her house this afternoon." 
 
 "April 6th, 1840. — Sir E. L. Bulwer's affair with Lady 
 
192 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Bulvver stands thus. His solicitor wrote to her Ladyship 
 that she had better apply to the Court of Chancery in 
 England for the redress of her wrongs in Paris ; that is, 
 apply to a court which has no jurisdiction over the 
 offenders residing in Paris. Tlie letter in question was 
 couched in such offensive terms (and I can have no hesita- 
 tion in saying so, since Mr. Loaden says in it that it is 
 intended for publication), that Lady Bulwer, when he called 
 on her, ordered him to leave her house. M. Ledru, her 
 counsel, declines to listen to the compromise not expressly 
 offered, but hinted at, by Mr. Loaden when he called on the 
 former. The appeal of Lady Bulwer against the decision 
 of the Police Correctionnel stands good at present, as also 
 M. Ledru's action for libel against Thackeray, fixed for 
 next Friday. The case attracts great attention here." 
 
 This last paragraph from the Mo7'ning Post 
 produced the follov^ing curious epistle from Mr. 
 Loaden himself, which was published in that journal 
 on April 7th, 1840 : — 
 
 " Sir Edward and Lady Lytton Bulwer. — To 
 THE Editor of the ' Morning Post.' 
 
 " Sir,— 
 
 "In your paper of this day you have thought proper 
 to insert the following misstatements connected with my 
 name in the affair of Sir E. L. Bulwer with Lady Bulwer." 
 (Here follows the passage in Morning Post of April 6 — 
 " His solicitor" to " former.") " I beg in reply to state that 
 I never hinted as to any compromise whatever to M. Ledru : 
 that he himself (in an interview with me upon a wholly 
 different professional subject) " regretted that there should 
 be any such differences between husband and wife, and 
 that I expressly told him that I had no power whatever 
 from Sir E. L. Bulwer to treat the matter ; and I even 
 refused to mention to Sir Edward what M. Ledru 
 had said on the subject, although requested by M. Ledru 
 to do so. Secondly, that I told him that I wished to 
 see Lady Bulwer on a matter between herself and myself. 
 
LO ADEN'S EXPLANATION. 1^3 
 
 Thirdly, it is false to state that in my letter to Lady 
 Buhver I referred her to the Court of Chancery on the 
 subject of the present French lawsuit. I informed her 
 simply that in consequence of the inquiries instituted 
 by Sir Edward, he had felt it his duty to withdraw from 
 her Ladyship the liberty of access he had hitherto granted 
 her to her children, especially her daughter; and that, 
 by a recent Act of Parliament, she could apply to the 
 Court of Chancery for that access ; and that then all 
 her general complaints against Sir Edward could be 
 heard ; but with respect to the particular suit, I distinctly 
 referred her to the proper tribunal in France, with which 
 Sir Edward could not interfere, and by which, if her 
 accusations were really tenable, her suit would be tried 
 v/ithout cost to herself, in proof of which, and in reply 
 to the charge that my letter was couched in offensive 
 terms, I beg to enclose a copy of it, and request you 
 to insert it. 
 
 " I am, etc., 
 
 "William Loaden. 
 
 " We decline to print the letter that Mr. Loaden has 
 enclosed. — Editor Morning Post." 
 
 It need hardly be said that this epistle does not 
 greatly redound to the credit either of Mr. Loaden or 
 of his distinguished client. It had already been ac- 
 knowledged in open court both by M. Blanchet and 
 M. Odilon Barrot that Lawson and Thackeray were 
 employed by Sir E. L. Bulwer to act as spies and 
 informers with regard to Lady Bulwer's movements 
 and actions, and now we have a categorical confes- 
 sion from Mr. Loaden as to the objects of these 
 inquiries. They were, it is abundantly clear, firstly, 
 to secure evidence which would enable the baronet 
 to sue for a divorce ; secondly, to blast his wife's 
 reputation in society ; and, thirdly, to justify him in 
 forbidding her access to her children. 
 
194 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Being unable, by fair means or foul, to obtain the 
 proofs he desired. Sir E. L. Bulwer nevertheless 
 proceeded to carry out part of his plan in utter 
 defiance of every rule of justice and humanity. For, 
 to resume Lady Bulwer's narrative, — 
 
 "after the iniquitous suppression of this trial against his 
 emissaries, Lawson and Thackeray, in Paris, Sir Edward's 
 next move to torture his hapless victim was to put a total 
 stop to even the simulacrum of a correspondence which had 
 subsisted between her and her poor children ; and although 
 it had never been anything beyond the six stereotyped 
 lines of Miss Greene's dictation, commencing with the obli- 
 gate ' Dear Mamma,' still the words, meaningless and 
 measured as they were, had been traced by their little 
 hands, and were therefore precious to Lady Bulwer's poor 
 desecrated heart ; but for that reason even this faint reflected 
 ray of happiness was to be denied her." 
 
 The only important event which occurred to Lady 
 Bulwer during the remainder of her stay in Paris 
 was the having one day lost a very pretty little 
 Blenheim dog in the Bois de Boulogne, which luck- 
 less event made her acquainted with that great man 
 Vidocq, and it was only right that having, for a short 
 time, got rid of the thieves, she should fall in with 
 the great thief-taker. Every morning he used to 
 express his sympathy for her loss upon rose- 
 coloured paper, and until the poor little dog was 
 found he used to call twice a week, with his brown 
 wig and his endless fund of amusing anecdotes. The 
 following letter may help to prove the great detec- 
 tive's energy in Lady Bulwer's cause : — 
 
 " Zt.' 2 Janvier, 1 840. 
 
 "Milady, — 
 
 " Ainsi que j'ai eu I'honneur de vous informer 
 j'ai fait continuer les explorations les plus etendues pour 
 
VIDOCQ. 195 
 
 d^couvrir votre chien et se mettre sur ses traces. Les 
 diverses rues de Chaillot et toutes celles de Passy ont 
 d'abord ete I'objet particulier de I'investigatioti de mes 
 hommes ; les boutiquiers, commissionaires, marchands, am- 
 bulands, revendants sur la voie publique, tous ont ete 
 questionne, mais infructueusement. J'ai donne I'ordre 
 de pousser les investigations aussi loin que possible, et 
 d'explorer egalement la commune de Neuilly, les diverses 
 routes qui aboutent pres au bois de Boulogne, et qui com- 
 muniquent avec les chemins qui conduisent a Passy ; 
 toutes ces demarches n'ont pu etre couronnees d'aucun 
 succes. 
 
 " Esperons mieux du resultat des affiches. 
 
 " J'ai riionneur d'etre avec respect, Milady, 
 " Votre tres humble servitcur, 
 " ViDOCQ. 
 
 " P.S. — Les affiches sont posees," 
 
 Lady Lytton's appeal to the Cour Royale was 
 never prosecuted, ov^^Ing, no doubt, to her lack of 
 means ; and later In the year 1 840 she quitted Paris 
 for Italy. 
 
 I append here a fev^^ letters received about this 
 date by Lady Lytton from Mr. and Mrs. Trollope : — 
 
 From Mrs. Trollope. 
 
 " 3, Wyndham Street, Bryanston Square. 
 " I have no heart to write to you, dear friend, and 
 yet I could not see my son sending off a letter without 
 one word from me. Oh ! how your kind warm heart 
 would pity me could you witness the anxious misery 
 I am enduring ! My poor darling lies in a state that 
 defies the views of his physicians as effectually as it 
 puzzles my ignorance. It is asthma from which he chiefly 
 suffers now ; but they say this can only be a symptom, 
 and not the disease. He is frightfully reduced in size 
 and strength ; sure am I that could you see him, you 
 would not find even a distant resemblance to the being 
 who, exactly three months ago, left us in all the pride 
 
196 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 of youth, health, and strength. Day by day I lose hope, 
 and so, I am quite sure, do his physicians ; we have had 
 three consultations, but nothing prescribed relieves him, nor 
 has any light been thrown on the nature of his complaint. 
 Let me hear what your proposed movements are. Alas ! 
 the sad change from the gay hopes with which I left 
 you ! Not all the engrossing anxiety that has been 
 upon me from the hour of my arrival has prevented 
 my thinking much of you. During the days that Tom 
 was giving every moment he could spare from me and 
 his poor brother to seeing after Colburn and publishers, 
 I was very unhappy about your MS., and repeatedly believed 
 that all the dark prognostics for which I used to scold 
 you were to prove true prophecy. That you ivere right 
 in a very great degree, I am quite convinced, but this 
 without losing the slightest portion of my confidence in 
 the professionally recognised value of any work from your 
 hands. But in this case there was a great propensity 
 to let fear predominate over even a certain prospect of 
 gain. Under these circumstances (the existence of which 
 cannot be doubted), I hope you will not hesitate about 
 the present offer. The same person who braves the danger 
 now will not be likely to shrink before it in future, for 
 it would increase ; and the more you write, the more 
 imperative will the call for your works become. Do your- 
 self but justice by giving yourself quiet unbroken leisure 
 to write, and I will readily stake my judgment on a brilliant 
 success — so brilliant as to defy all cabal to smother it. 
 
 " God bless you, dearest Lady Bulwer. Do not forget 
 to love me should our hoped-for meeting be delayed for 
 long, very long. 
 
 " Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 "F. Trollope. 
 
 " Pray remember me kindly to Mr. Hume." 
 
 From the Same. 
 
 " 3, Wyndham Street, Bryanston Square, 
 
 " Friday, July yd, 1840. 
 
 " You are a thousand times kinder to me than I deserve, 
 albeit I really do love you heartily, and would serve you 
 
MRS. TROLLOPE's LETTERS. 1 97 
 
 too, dear friend, if I knew how. What can I feel but 
 pride and pleasure at your offered dedication .-' I accept 
 it, dear Lady Buhver, gratefully. But both here and in 
 your preface, let your old woman preach to you ; and bear 
 it, dear, as sweetly as I have seen you do heretofore, when 
 most literally ' love conquered fear/ and enabled me 
 to lecture you upon prudence and forbearance as never 
 any one so circumstanced was lectured before. You 
 have great powers ; and though I will not say they 
 have been unworthily used in being lent to the painful 
 purpose of exposing a little part of what you have so 
 wrongfully endured, I will say that no one who loves 
 and admires you as much as I do, and who knows 
 even no more than I do of the public, but would 
 deprecate the idea of your again dipping your brilliant 
 wing in the dirty troubled waters of personal affairs. 
 Walter Scott, with all his talent multiplied into itself, could 
 not have stood against the killing blight of such a mildew 
 as this would wrap round your name as a writer. I saw 
 the Herculean strength and vigour of Byron's literary 
 reputation almost strangled by his 
 
 ' Bom in the garret, in the kitchen bred,' 
 
 and well do I remember hearing one of the cleverest men in 
 Europe, and a greatly attached friend of Byron to boot, say, 
 ' If he goes on wiping his eyes thus upon the public, it is over 
 with him ; it is downright snivelling.' I stake my sagacity 
 on your success as a writer if you keep clear of this pitfall. 
 My poor Anthony is so very nearly in the same state as when 
 I last wrote that I have not a word to say that can 
 help to give you information of our future movements. 
 Had I the power to move, my will is as fixed as ever 
 towards Italy ; and the journey thither with you would 
 be a surcroit of pleasure that I should value as it deserves. 
 But at this moment I dare not think of pleasure ; I dare not 
 plan a future. I have seen the dear Pauncefotes with real 
 pleasure. I think very highly of them, and if I must give 
 you up myself, would rather yield you to them than 
 to anybody else. They have right principles, right feelings, 
 
198 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 and right tempers. Poor dear Judith ! How I love you for 
 going to her. Trust me, your vocation is not to scold, 
 either in public or in private. Your nature is kind, 
 noble, generous, and warm-hearted. You have a great many 
 things to thank God for, That you have been sorely 
 tried is true ; but you have that within you that oiigJit 
 to enable you to rise unscathed from it all. Now do 
 not shake your head and say, ' Foolish old woman ! ' but 
 be good, and mind what I say to you, and I shall live 
 yet to see all the world admire you as much as I do, 
 and I shall be proud of my friend. Kiss Taff and tell 
 him I should know him amidst a thousand, 
 
 " God bless you, dear friend, and believe me, 
 " Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 " Frances Trollope." 
 
 From Mr. T. Adolphus Trollope. 
 
 "friday.Jttlyyd, 1 840. 
 
 "Dear Lady Bulwer, — 
 
 " I have this instant received your letter. Pray 
 do not talk so much of thanks for my little attempt to render 
 my very useless existence in any degree of service to some- 
 body. I do thank you, however, for the illuminated post- 
 boy you have sent me, for that is something 'out of the 
 common.' 
 
 " And now to business. I am vexed that you, and 
 Hume as well, seem entirely to misunderstand the nature 
 of the offer Mr. Bull makes respecting the second ^^^400. 
 You and Hume, in his letter to me, both say that you wish 
 the second ;^400 to be paid in a bill given at the time of 
 publication. Of course you wish it ; so do I ; so would 
 any one. It is simply converting a contingency into a 
 certainty, a very different (I am sorry to say) sort of terms, 
 which of course I should have obtained for you if it had 
 been possible. The terms, which I thought I did right to 
 accept from Bull, more especially as they are accurately 
 the same as you had determined on accepting from Colburn, 
 are these: ^400 to be paid on delivery of the MS. (mode 
 
MR. T. A. TROLLOPES LETTERS. 1 99 
 
 of payment not definitively arranged, but doubtless might 
 be, as you say in your letter, by a bill at three months) 
 for the right to print 1,250 copies ; then ^^"200 to be paid 
 contingently on going to press with 750 copies. These 
 were the terms you determined on accepting from Colburn. 
 Bull will give you the additional guarantee of a letter 
 to his printer to account to you the number printed. 
 Since writing the above I have been to Bull. 
 He would not hear of altering the terms as you propose, 
 saying, truly enough, that it made all the difference, and 
 would be throwing an infinitely increased risk on him. 
 He said, ' Is it to be considered all up, then ?' 
 
 " ' Not at all,' I answered ; ' I shall immediately send 
 your answer to Lady Bulwer, and my impression is that 
 she will accede to your terms.' Was I wrong in so doing .-' 
 I dreaded having the negotiation with him broken off, 
 as I know not to whom I could go next ; and somehow 
 or other news circulates through the trade so quickly that 
 it is a very dangerous experiment to hawk a book about 
 more than can possibly be helped from one to another. 
 The freshness of a new novel's name and reputation is 
 injured almost as easily as a peach's bloom. Besides, 
 I have NO hopes of obtaining a certain .^800, or of course 
 I should not have closed with Bull's terms. 
 
 " Respecting the illustrations, he appeared very unwilling, 
 saying that the book would sell as well without, and 
 that it would be an expense de plus for nothing. How- 
 ever, I insisted ; and he has promised to have six plates 
 by Cruikshank if possible, which, it seems, is very 
 doubtful. 
 
 " As to the mode of paying the ^^400, I pressed, accord- 
 ing to what you say in your letter, for a bill at three 
 months, which he will give you on delivery of the MS. 
 if you require it ; but he begged hard that it might 
 be divided into two bills, one at three, and the other 
 at four months' date. I do not like to take Hyde to 
 him to witness the agreement ; it is unusual. It is need- 
 lessly offensive to a man with whom we had better keep 
 on agreeable terms. It is also useless, seeing that I shall 
 
200 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 take care that the agreement is drawn up in the usual 
 manner and properly signed ; and all the lawyers in the 
 world can do no more. Will you, when you send your 
 MS. to Mr. Hyde, ask him to send me a line announcing 
 its arrival .-' 
 
 " I have said a great deal to Bull respecting the printing, 
 and he swears by his gods that it shall be carefully done. 
 He grumbles about the length of * Cheveley ; ' and I much 
 fear that the ' Bubbles ' is as least as long. It goes to my 
 heart to give ' the public ' a measure running over into 
 their ungrateful bosoms. I scraped mine off close along 
 the top of the bushel, and put by all that was over for 
 another time. 
 
 " But you have no notion of economy. I hope you 
 are already thinking in earnest of your next book. Do 
 you remember my suggestion that upon some slight 
 thread of a story you should string the adventures, sayings, 
 and doings and seeings of a ludicrously composed English 
 party making the grand tour .-* Begin with them at Paris ; 
 and then take them over the ground which you purpose 
 traversing this autumn, etc. I am sure the idea is a good 
 one, 'though / says it, as shouldn't.' My brother is un- 
 questionably much better. We must not, as his sententious 
 Esculapius says, ' cry, " Whoop ! " before we are out of the 
 wood ; ' but I am in great hope that he will now rapidly 
 gain ground, and that our plans will resume their course. 
 The Pauncefotes have no thoughts of leaving Paris till 
 October, and will then, I fear, certainly proceed direct 
 to Naples by Marseilles ; whereas if we are able to 
 leave England in time to be at Venice in October, we 
 shall take that route, in order to meet Chateaubriand 
 and Madame Recamier there, which my mother much 
 wishes to do. What do you intend doing during the 
 summer and early autumn } My mother has written 
 to you and to Madame de Montalc, but she will send her 
 letters by the occasion you speak of. This will go 
 forthwith, as it is desirable to lose no time in concluding 
 with Bull. Pray give my best regards and wishes to 
 M. de Montalc, and to Hume, whose commission shall 
 
MR. AND MRS. TROLLOPE S LETTERS. 201 
 
 be attended to ; I am much obliged to him for his letter, 
 to which this is an answer, as it was all about your 
 book. Many thanks for the interest you take in my 
 scribblement ; it is going on swimmingly. This pen never 
 learnt to write when it was young ; and now in its hebe- 
 tated old age, when all its faculties are blunted, it is 
 disgusting. Pray excuse its scrawl ; and believe me, 
 " Always sincerely yours, 
 
 " T. Adolphus Trollope." 
 
 From Mrs. Trollope and T. Adolphus Trollope. 
 
 " y^^h 9^''^ 1840. 
 
 " Knowing, dear friend, that when you say, ' Write by 
 the post/ you mean it, I take up my pen as soon as 
 possible, in the nature of things, after putting down your 
 letter, and proceed to tell you, not all you desire to 
 know, but all I know myself. First, however, let me 
 forestall a portion of the epistle at present reposing in 
 Mrs. Pauncefote's travelling trunk, that is to say, let 
 me thank you heartily and affectionately for the honour 
 you propose to do me, and assure you that such a 
 proof of your regard is very precious to me ; I accept 
 it joyfully. Now if I forestall still farther, and tell 
 you that the rest of the said Pauncefote despatch is a 
 sermon, perhaps you will burn it. But don't, dear, for 
 if you do, you will lose one proof of my affection. 
 
 " Anthony goes on decidedly improving, but so slowly 
 as to make every morning's inquiry one of fear and 
 trembling. Still I DO hope and believe that we shall 
 be able to leave England early in September; and if so, 
 we shall proceed via Paris direct to Venice by diligence 
 and with diligence (absolute ablative case, if not ablative 
 case absolute), from whence we shall proceed to Naples, 
 seeing as much of the writable about places as we can 
 en route. At Naples, where we hope to arrive in November, 
 we propose remaining till it is time to remove to Rome 
 for the Holy Week. After that I know nothing, but 
 think it very likely we shall pass our time at Florence. 
 
202 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 " Could we not meet at Venice ? Madame Recamier 
 would not have seemed to like you had she not done 
 so. Where she does like her sweet nature leads her 
 to show it, but if she be a flatterer, her flattery is only 
 for those she loves. She keeps people at arm's length 
 more steadily, courageously, and effectually than any one 
 I know. Do let us meet at Venice ! I should like it in 
 all ways. In the first place, the uncertainty of our move- 
 ments will by that time be as much over as ever happens, I 
 suppose, in human doings ; and, secondly,our economical and 
 therefore of necessity disagreeable going-ahead travelling 
 must be over, or, at least, by far the worst part of it. And 
 besides, if, on comparing notes together at Venice, we 
 discover that we should do better by travelling to Naples 
 in different ways, we can do so. But I have a great feeling 
 
 that I should like to be at Venice with . There 
 
 is eternal interest in the place. There is interest in 
 
 Chateaubriand and his charming old friend and 
 
 . In short, I hope we shall meet at Venice. Most 
 
 surely you are wise not to remain at Paris through the 
 dog-days ; why should you .'' Your Rhenish route would 
 give you a somewhat longer, but much more agreeable 
 journey. 
 
 " My highly gifted and very interesting friend, Mrs. 
 Fauche, is with her beautiful little girls at Heidelberg ; 
 and for a few weeks, if you liked to halt there, you 
 would find her a delightful companion. If you would 
 like such a halt, tell me so directly, and I will write 
 to her, and she will receive you with all the kindness 
 of her most kind heart ; and when you get to her, my 
 principal fear will be that I shall not be able to get you 
 away again. But if you threaten any false-heartedness 
 towards me, you shall have a heavy packet by the post once 
 every day containing the words, ' Meet me at Venice'. But 
 here I must stop, for the Signer is away to Bull ; and 
 I must let this sheet convey the result to you. God 
 bless dear warm-hearted Hume (I don't mean Joseph). 
 I wish I had his strong steadfast will, moving in some 
 direction in which it could be useful. But he is wrongs 
 
MR. T. A. TROLLOPE'S LETTERS. 20$ 
 
 wroiig, wrong. Give my kind regards to said Hume, 
 and tell him he is a very lucky fellow for not knowing 
 more about this vile publishing work, but he does know 
 very little indeed." 
 
 Added by T. A. Trollope. 
 
 " Dear Lady Bulwer, I am vexed at your letter to my 
 mother. Do not think me impertinent for saying so ; 
 but allow me to point out one or two passages which 
 appear to me delicately tinged with the slightest possible 
 measure of unreasonableness, a womanly failing, and the 
 only one which I attribute to women in a greater degree 
 than to their 'owners:' i^400 is not a 'beggarly' price 
 for a novel, with another ^6^400 contingent ; James, a 
 decidedly successful novelist, has only ^^500 for the copy- 
 right. My mother, after her very successful book on 
 America and a most flourishing review in the Quarterly, 
 had only ;^400 for her two first novels. You say that 
 ' you will be cheated as much as he can possibly 
 cheat you.' But I do think that Bull's opportunities 
 of cheating you will be as small as they can be in 
 any case. You complain that ' to repay himself for 
 the paltry sum he gives you is all that Bull cares for.' 
 Unquestionably it is. What on earth else should he 
 care for } Permit me to assure you that the views of all 
 publishers are (lamentable as it is) absolutely and un- 
 mixedly mercenary, and that all hopes of a race of pub- 
 lishers, who shall consult their author's interest instead 
 of their own, must be deferred to those promised days 
 when the lion shall lie down with the lamb, and other 
 heterogeneous associations come to pass. You agree to 
 accept Bull's terms ' if he will give you a written promise 
 that the illustrations shall be done by Cruikshank.' But 
 how is he to promise for another man .-• He undertakes 
 to do all he can with Cruikshank ; he is as anxious to 
 have him as you are. But this is by no means easy. 
 He wishes me also to go to Cruikshank ; to see and testify 
 that no endeavours are wanting on his part to induce 
 him to undertake it, and also to assist in flattering him 
 
204 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 into compliance with your wishes. This I shall do if 
 Bull does not succeed with him. I have this morning 
 been to Bull, and have caused the enclosed agreements 
 to be drawn up. The one signed by Bull you must 
 keep, and return the other signed by yourself. Will 
 you return it with the MS. to Mr. Hyde t What must be 
 done with the bills paid by Bull should they be paid in to 
 any banker here.'' I took your note to Mrs. Willoughby's 
 this morning ; she had started for Paris. The people, how- 
 ever, wojild keep the note. Pray do not be very angry 
 with me for all that I have here written ; and believe me, 
 " Always faithfully yours, 
 
 " T. Adolphus Trollope." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LADY BULWER AT FLORENCE AND GENEVA. — BAD NEWS. 
 
 The next two years, 1840 — 1842, were spent 
 by Lady Bulwer at Florence ; and here she seems 
 to have enjoyed comparative immunity from perse- 
 cution. During these two years she was told that 
 the spies were in full force ; but, as for fifteen months 
 of that period she was suffering from a severe and 
 lingering illness, the only proofs of their activity 
 which she experienced were occasionally receiving 
 open through the post (that is, with the seals no 
 doubt purposely broken, that they might be read 
 upon Mr. Loaden's plan for the diffusion of know- 
 ledge) letters of the most infamous description, 
 varied in their signatures from " Frederick " to 
 "Charles" or "Henry." It is certainly barely possible 
 that these letters may have been bond fide travellers 
 and really addressed to the deputy Lady Bulwer, 
 the woman Beaumont. 
 
 Of course the diplomatic relations kept pace with those 
 at Paris wherever she went for marked rudeness and neglect. 
 As soon as Lady Bulwer felt well enough to re-encounter 
 the abominations of an Italian journey she resolved to 
 return to England, but unfortunately at Geneva she heard 
 of the death of poor Mr. Bull, her ever-liberal publisher. 
 This was a serious loss to her, as she had still heavy legal 
 expenses to meet on account of the Paris conspiracy ; and 
 
206 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 the new publisher whom she entered into a negotiation 
 with, Hke his order, ever eager to seize upon any pretext 
 to mulct their natural prey an author, wrote her word that 
 
 Mrs. M , with her long-flowing ringlets, had been to 
 
 threaten him unheard-of persecution on the part of her 
 then friend Sir Edward Bulwer, and that if he published 
 for her in the first place, he would take good care that 
 any book of hers should be effectually crushed by the 
 reviewers. 
 
 At Geneva Lady Bulv^^er spent four years. Of 
 the early part of her sojourn there I have no record, 
 but it may be presumed that she was almost conti- 
 nuously engaged in literary labour. From a mass of 
 correspondence with all sorts of personages I extract 
 the following letter from Georges Sand : — 
 
 From Georges Sand (Paris), ce 6 Decembre, 1842, 
 A Madame Rosina Lytton Bulwer a Geneve. 
 
 " Nous vous connoissons, Madame, sans nous etre 
 jamais rencontrees ; vous avez prete votre genie a un 
 epoux indigne de vous, et vos oeuvres collectives ont 
 illumine I'Angleterre et la France. J'ai verse, moi, mes 
 reves et mes douleurs dans des romans qui ont fait plus 
 de bruit qu'ils ne meritent ; vous avez souffert : j'ai souffert 
 aussi — notre route est la meme. Ne vous etonnez done 
 pas si je viens vous tendre la main. Les ecrits recents 
 qui portent votre nom m'inspirent pour vous la plus vive 
 sympathie. J'aime a voir votre etoile graviter seule dans 
 I'orbite que le ciel lui a trace; le genie est solitaire, et 
 contrairement a I'ordre etabli, c'est vous qui etes le soleil : 
 I'autre n'a brille que de votre reflet ; vous devez m6priser 
 I'honneur male comme je le meprise. Acceptez mon 
 amitie ; lignons nous toutes deux centre un sexe qui ne 
 nous a donne que deceptions et tortures ; consolons nous 
 reciproquement ; et prouvons au monde que la femme 
 jetee par le malheur en dehors de sa sphere reprend le 
 
LETTER FROM GEORGES SAND. 20/ 
 
 sceptre de rintelligence a ceux qui lui ont arrache vio- 
 lemment la baguette magique du coeur. 
 " J'attends un mot de vous, et je I'espere. 
 
 "Georges Sand." 
 
 It was at Geneva that Lady Bulwer received news 
 of the death of her mother-in-law, Mrs. Lytton, 
 which occurred in 1844. 
 
 " So/' she writes, " Sir Edward Bulwer attained the 
 object of his lifelong exertions, namely the possession 
 of her unentailed property, Knebworth Park, for which 
 he took her maiden name of Lytton, and so became 
 Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton ; but the only change this 
 accession of fortune produced to his victim was to 
 have her pittance more irregularly paid and to receive 
 an insolent notification from Loaden that it was Sir 
 Edward's desire that she should not assume the name 
 of Lytton, but restrict herself to that of Bulwer, while 
 the same post brought her a letter from good Mr. Hyde 
 directed to Lady Bulwer Lytton by royal assent ! But 
 in this letter he told her that in order to sue her husband 
 for a proper maintenance, proportionate to his present 
 fortune, she must return to England, as she could not 
 do so outside the jurisdiction of the court. But at that 
 time she had not the funds for the purpose ; and good 
 care was taken, as will be seen hereafter, to prevent any 
 facilities for her doing so ; and another year rolled on 
 like a dark cloud, as every year was now to her. One 
 evening, as she was sitting at the window of the hotel 
 after a more than usually miserable day, looking alter- 
 nately at the lake, with its clear blue waters, and the 
 muddy carriages and foitrgons that drove up to the door, 
 an avant-coiirier dashed, with his splashed boots and 
 jingling bells, up to the door, and alighted in all the 
 haste of his order. After his friendly greeting with the 
 waiters at the door he drew a large pocket-book from his 
 side-pocket, and opening it, took from out a Avilderness 
 of passports and tariffs a letter; and Lady Lytton thought, 
 
208 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 as he handed it to one of the waiters, that she heard 
 her own name, coupled with the words ' Est-elle ici ' ? 
 Nor was she mistaken, for shortly afterwards the man 
 to whom the letter had been given brought it in. This 
 letter to all appearance might have passed for a bridal 
 announcement ; the envelope was of that white, highly- 
 glazed enamelled paper then in vogue, with a delicate 
 tracery of silver round it ; above the seal the coronet 
 and supporters were also in embossed silver; and, like all 
 foreign epistles, this one was redolent of patchouli. Now, 
 there was nothing in all these accessories to excite alarm 
 any more than in the bold yet delicate and ladylike 
 writing ; and yet a sharp pain shot through her heart, and 
 she was some seconds before she could summon courage 
 to break the seal. At length she did so, and read as 
 
 follows, the letter being from Madame de S , wife of 
 
 the charge d'affaires at Frankfort : — 
 
 " ' Frankfort-on-the-Maine, Thursday, June, iS— . 
 
 "'Dearest Lady Lytton, — 
 
 " ' The s leave this to-morrow for Geneva, 
 
 which gives me an opportunity of sending you a packet 
 safely ; and, although it is now two in the morning, I 
 cannot go to bed without telling you what I fear will 
 give you pain ; and yet, knowing as I do how you yearn 
 after any intelligence of your poor darling children, and 
 judging by my own feelings, I think you would even rather 
 hear the sad tidings I have to tell than remain ignorant of 
 
 them. Strange to say, at N d there is now living a 
 
 Madame de W y, who had formerly been Sarah's and 
 
 my governess ; and so far I can reassure you that she 
 is a most ladylike, accomplished person, though I do 
 not think she possesses what I, and I know you, regard as 
 far more essential, a grain of feeling. Now it appears Sir 
 Edward has placed your dear girl with her ; and as I am 
 
 not on terms with Madame de W y, who did not 
 
 behave well to Mamma, I heard of poor E 's arrival 
 
 in a strange way from the landlady of an hotel here. 
 It seems she came with that horrid Miss Greene, whom, 
 
NEWS OF EMILY. 209 
 
 unseen and unknown, I so cordially detest for her base 
 ingratitude and treachery to you, and the evening of her 
 arrival the woman of the hotel, going into the room 
 for something while Miss Greene had gone out, saw poor 
 
 dear E sitting on the sofa, with her feet tucked 
 
 under her, a la Turc, whereupon she said to her, " My 
 dear, put down your feet ; that is not a pretty way for 
 a young lady to sit." " Oh I " said the poor child, " I 
 cannot put them down, for I have but two pairs of 
 stockings ! one is not unpacked, and the other pair, that 
 I had on, is gone to be washed." I feel, dearest Lady 
 Lytton, as my own tears blot the paper, how cruel it is 
 to write this to you, and yet perhaps it would be more 
 cruel to withhold it ; and what I further elicited from 
 
 the Frau may give you a gleam of comfort. I 
 
 know it did me, as it is the beginning of retributive 
 justice on that wretch Miss Greene. It appears that 
 
 Madame de VV y was so ejfaroiichee at Miss Greene's 
 
 appearance and vulgarity to match, that she said she 
 could not possibly undertake Miss Lytton's education 
 unless such an appendage was got rid of. Miss Greene 
 then iviprovisced an alarming paroxysm of hysterics, 
 
 and wanted to intimidate poor E into writing to 
 
 her father to say that she should die if separated from 
 Miss Greene ; but the dear child, apparently only too 
 enchanted at such an unhoped-for opportunity of getting 
 rid of her, steadily refused to put pen to paper for any 
 such purpose ; so the battle ended in the total defeat 
 of Miss Greene, who was congediee at last. I feel 
 that after writing you such painful details as these, any 
 attempts at consolation would be almost a mockery ; but 
 you may rely upon it, dearest Lady Lytton, that I will 
 not lose sight of your darling child, and shall keep you 
 ail conrant to everything concerning her, as far as I can 
 possibly collect it. As I look at my own little calmly 
 sleeping treasure, I feel almost a monster to add another 
 wound to your poor lacerated heart ; would to God that 
 I could pour comfort into it instead, but He alone can 
 do so, who has given you such a varied experience of 
 
 14 
 
2IO LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 (humanly speaking) apparently unmerited trials — un- 
 merited, but not unnecessary. The furnace has been 
 indeed fierce for you, but it has been to purify, and not 
 to consume ; where all is so solemnly sad and impene- 
 trably mysterious, reason might well despair, but faith 
 has a deeper sense than reason ; and we greatly tried 
 ones know that our choicest fountains are fed from the 
 darkest clouds. And when the sun of worldly prosperity is 
 setting, as set it will, in endless night on your cruel and 
 unmanly oppressor, may you, dearest Lady Lytton, find, 
 like the aged patriarch, " that at evening time it is light," 
 " ' Is the fervent prayer of 
 
 " ' Your sincerely affectionate 
 
 " ' S 1 de S e.' 
 
 " The next day Lady Lytton sold a bracelet and sent 
 the ;{;20 she got for it to her kind friend Madame de 
 
 S , entreating that she would at least buy the poor 
 
 innocent little martyr some clothes ; but after keeping 
 
 this money eight months Madame de S returned 
 
 it, saying that she had found it impossible either to 
 convey it, or in any way to gain access to the poor child, 
 and that the only additional information she had been 
 able to reap about her was that Sir Edward, with his 
 usual hypocrisy of always getting up some solemn sham 
 to dupe the public with, had taken poor Emily to Baden- 
 Baden with him for six weeks, in order to play the 
 amiable father to that little Babel of gossip and gambling; 
 
 and although the sum total he allowed Madame de W y 
 
 for her education, food, etc., was ;^ioo a year, yet on 
 his return from this excursion he had actually wanted to 
 deduct these six weeks from that magnificent stipend ! 
 
 " Two more miserable years crept slowly on ; and 
 
 Madame de S having left Frankfort, the unhappy 
 
 mother could gain no more tidings of her ill-fated child." 
 
 Nor did better fortune attend her efforts to 
 communicate with her son. 
 
 "To return to that delectable state of things from 
 
A PRESENT TO HER SON. 211 
 
 which not only all reason, but all humanity, was banished, 
 Lady L}'tton heard, through the friend who had kindly 
 promised to take her packet for her poor daughter to 
 England,* that her son was now at a public school, and 
 knowing very well that his father was not very likely 
 either to consult or comply with his boyish tastes, and that 
 before boys know or heed the value of time, a watch forms 
 an epoch in their lives, as does a chain as long as its links 
 are fragile and golden, she sent him a watch and chain, 
 with a small enamel portrait of herself; and oh, the hot 
 tears that fell upon the latter, as she thought how cold and 
 tearlessly those mimic eyes would meet her boy's deep 
 loving ones ! Yes, they iue7^e always full of love, and must 
 be still; and she knew, she j^// all his young being would 
 rush in wild tumults to their brink, and his heart leap 
 into that deep flood of love and sorrow gushing from 
 hers then. 
 
 " Poor soul ! Such was her fervent faith, for there is no 
 fanaticism like that of a mother's love ; truly it hopeth all 
 things, endureth all things. Her boy being younger than 
 his poor sister, she had only written him a short letter of 
 love and counsel, such as a boy could understand, might 
 feel, and would remember ; and as the weeks went by her 
 heart stood still at every letter that was brought into the 
 room, straining its every nerve to see the round schoolboy 
 hand which she thought must come at last ; but no, not even 
 that ; and then indeed, as hope died away, like Tennyson's 
 Mariana, 
 
 " ' Her tears fell with the dews at even ; 
 Her tears fell ere the dews were dried ; 
 She could not look on the sweet heaven 
 
 Either at noon or eventide : 
 She only said, " My life is dreary, 
 
 He Cometh not," she said ; 
 She said, I am aweary, aweary, 
 
 I would that I were dead.' 
 
 *This lady was unable to find an opportunity of delivering the 
 packet. — L. D. 
 
2 12 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 " One day an English lady and her husband and their 
 three blooming children were sitting with her ; the lady, 
 charming in every respect, was a model wife ; and oh, rarer 
 far, the gentleman /«r excellence was a model husband. They 
 were preaching from the old text to her, to hope against 
 hope, when a servant brought in a parcel and a letter ; 
 both were from England. Lady Lytton opened the letter 
 first ; it was only three lines, and they ran as follows: — 
 
 "'Bedford Row, London, Jime 1846. 
 
 " ' Madam,— 
 
 " * Master Lytton, having received a watch, chain, 
 and miniature from you, begs to return them, and desires 
 that for the future he may not receive any more parcels. 
 " ' I am, Madam, your obedient servant, 
 
 " ' William Loaden.' " 
 
 Such M^ere the only episodes which varied the 
 monotony of the unhappy lady's existence. 
 
 " Four miserable years had she lingered on at that 
 wretched little Calvinistic town which Voltaire truly 
 described as 
 
 " ' Cette ville froide et fade, oii tout est entame, 
 Ou Ton calcule toujours, et ne sent jamais,' 
 
 though she, it must be confessed, had some noble- 
 hearted friends there, but they were the exceptions that 
 proved the rule, being a few of those bright golden links 
 in that long chain of lead which men call life. 
 
 " It is an old remark what a quantity of killing women 
 take, and poor Lady Lytton was a notable instance of 
 this. There had now been a delay of several weeks in 
 the payment of her miserable pittance ; and as she was 
 in the habit of settling her bills at the hotel quarterly, 
 this of course caused her the greatest inconvenience and 
 annoyance ; and she wrote and wrote to her trustee without 
 success. Poor Lady Lytton ! As the long, tedious, blank 
 days lingered one after another, .she knew that she still 
 existed, because she felt that she suffered ; and each letter 
 caused a fever flush, not indeed of hope, but of expecta- 
 
"THE BOOK OF BEAUTY." 213 
 
 tion, which was invariably doomed to a sudden death 
 of disappointment. One morning, as she was eagerly- 
 trusting that her pittance would come at last, her letters 
 were brought to her ; no, they only announced another 
 of the infinitesimal meannesses of Sir Edward and his 
 clique. 
 
 " One letter said, amongst other things : — 
 
 " * Heath was with me the other day, and wanted, as I 
 told you, permission to engrave that picture of you by 
 Chalon for "The Book of Beauty;" but before your 
 consent arrived he returned in great consternation, stating 
 that Lady Blessington had gone to him in a great hurry 
 to say he must not on any account think of such a 
 thing, as Sir Edward would be furious, as having heard 
 of Heath's intention, he had told her he would not have 
 it appear on any account. Poor Heath was dreadfully 
 annoyed at this, as he thought it one of Chalon's happiest 
 chef-d'ceuvresJ 
 
 " Another letter by the same post continued the theme 
 more energetically : — 
 
 " ' I should be in a towering rage at that infamous 
 Gore House cabal having prevented your picture appearing 
 in " The Book of Beauty " were I not convulsed with 
 laughter at the sequel. I have just heard the history 
 of Sir Edward's forbidding it, which was that he said 
 to his dear friend Lady Blessington, " If Heath wants 
 beauty, let him engrave my portrait." Now I don't 
 think that this is one iota too good to be true, when we 
 know that when Mr. N. P. Willis had committed the 
 gaiicJierie of putting an elaborate description of you and 
 your rooms into his first " Pencillings by the Way," the 
 charming Lady Blessington was deputed to hint to him 
 that it would be more agreeable if that were omitted in all 
 future editions, and an account of Henry Bulwer substituted 
 of whose perfections Lady Blessington forthwith furnished 
 him with a fancy inventory. However, cava viia, it is 
 a comfort to think that although your portrait does not 
 appear, the world have lost nothing, for en revanche they 
 are to have Mrs. Disraeli, at the blooming age of sixty. 
 
2 14 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 in " The Book of Beauty ; " but then, to be sure, she goes 
 to Gore House.' 
 
 " Had Sir Edward Bulvver Lytton's conspiracy against 
 his victim been merely confined to this sort of Gore House 
 manoeuvres, it would only have afforded her a hearty 
 laugh when she could not afford a box at the play ; but 
 his was a far deeper scheme, that of literally hunting 
 her to death, by subjecting her to every insult, every 
 privation, and every difficulty which malice could conceive. 
 The landlord of the hotel where Lady Lytton had now 
 been for three years and a half, finding that her parish 
 allowance did not come, made this a pretext for charging 
 her hotel prices, a sadly inflating process compared to the 
 moderate fixed sum at which she had hitherto been living. 
 At this rate she saw ruin staring her in the face, and that 
 was precisely the motive for which her pittance was retarded ; 
 and from the landlord's subsequent shameful breach of faith 
 with her, she had no doubt he was in the plot." 
 
 In this dilemma Lady Lytton v^ras prevented from 
 borrowing money of friends vv^ho w^ere willing to 
 lend it because " no honest person would accept 
 money they saw no means of repaying ; " and an 
 arrangement was finally come to with the landlord 
 by which he agreed to wait for his bill provided she 
 would leave her rooms at the hotel, and at the 
 same time solemnly promised that under no cir- 
 cumstances would he apply for payment to Sir 
 Edward. So she quitted the hotel and took up 
 her abode at a pension about three miles from 
 Geneva, " kept by a horrible old woman, with 
 dinners to match ; however, the rooms were 
 excellent, the grounds beautiful, and the price only 
 two hundred francs a month for Lady Lytton and 
 her maid." But even to defray this modest charge 
 she was compelled to sell her watch. 
 
AN EFFECTIVE CONTRAST. 2 I 5 
 
 " First, in a moment of bitterness, she thought of selling 
 the watch her son had flung back to her. Yet no ! Perhaps 
 he had not done it. Alas, poor human hearts ! what costly- 
 hopes and ponderous fears you are ever suspending on and 
 trusting to the frail tenure of a ' perhaps ' ! So she left 
 it there, and took her own watch. Oh the deep humilia- 
 tion of those moments when necessity overcomes without 
 annihilating pride ! — instances when extremes meet, for 
 nothing can look more like a thief going to steal what 
 belongs to another than a poor lady or gentleman going 
 to sell what belongs to themselves. She went to one of 
 those quaint old shops in the Rue Basse ; but although 
 the watch was a Breguet, she only got twenty-two pounds 
 for it; and no doubt, from the confusion of her manner, the 
 worthy Genevois concluded she had stolen it. 
 
 "She that very evening went to her new abode. As Sir 
 Edward Lytton is such a patron of the arts, and has 
 such a love for the beautiful, I wonder what he would 
 think, as an addition to his collection at Knebworth, of 
 a double picture in the style of Parmegano's picture of 
 Adam and Eve, on two separate panels, divided by a 
 golden bar: of himself in his baronial halls, surrounded by 
 his parasites and all the magnificence of gold cups and 
 chargers, with the parcel-gilt goblets which he so much 
 affects, on the one side, and on the other his poor hunted 
 wife prowling down back streets in the twilight to sell 
 her watch to pay for her daily bread. 
 
 " At this pension Lady Lytton had stayed about six 
 weeks, when two ladies drove out to see her, joy beaming 
 in their countenances, to tell her that a most extraordinary 
 thing had happened at the hotel, which they were sure 
 was the harbinger of great good to her. The wondrous 
 tale which they had to disclose to her was that an 
 Englishman (' sans doute un grand seigneur! ') had arrived 
 
 at the Hotel, and had asked the landlord if Lady 
 
 Lytton had not been staying there a long time, and if she 
 
 did not owe him a large sum of money .■* to which K , 
 
 the landlord, replied in the affirmative. Whereupon this 
 travelling St. Anthony answered, ' You are aware, M. 
 
2l6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 that Sir Edward Lytton is now a very rich 
 
 man, et je me fais fort de vous /aire payer.' 
 
 " Upon hearing this poor Lady Lytton burst into tears, 
 intuitively perceiving that there was some fresh conspiracy 
 afloat on the part of her dastardly persecutor, and said to 
 her friends, ' For heaven's sake, when you go back this 
 
 evening, call at the hotel and tell K on no account 
 
 to have any conversation with this man about me or my 
 affairs, but to come and tell me his name, at least what 
 name he goes by, and describe to me his appearance, 
 for, depend upon it, no gentleman, or indeed any honest 
 man, would ask the landlord of an hotel such questions 
 about a person who is a stranger to him, at least not 
 for any good purpose;' and her fears instantly pointed 
 to Loaden, and with these fears she so infected these 
 kind friends that they departed in haste to warn the 
 landlord of the hotel not to be too communicative to 
 this stranger, but go and speak to Lady Lytton as soon 
 
 as he could. Accordingly the next day but one M. K 
 
 arrived, followed by a tremendously tall man, who 
 announced himself with a low bow in the following 
 negative communication : 'Ahem ! I am not a lawyer, 
 madam.' A man not well versed in synonyms might 
 
 have responded, ' Then who the d 1 are you, sir .'' ' 
 
 But what Lady Lytton said was, ' Indeed ! then, pray, 
 may I inquire who you are, and, above all, by what 
 authority you busy yourself about my affairs .'' ' 
 
 " ' Certainly, madam, by all means ; my name is B ; 
 
 I am connected with the Galigiiani ; in fact, madam, I 
 an agent d'affaires, and collect bad debts.' 
 
 " ' Sir!' interrupted Lady Lytton, her eyes flashing as she 
 glanced indignantly at the fat landlord, who stood foolishly 
 looking into his empty hat, 'there is no bad debt that I 
 
 am aware of between myself and M. K . Owing to 
 
 a long and most scandalous delay in the payment of 
 my very paltry allowance, I was, it is true, on leaving his 
 hotel six weeks ago, unable to settle his bill, when he 
 consented to give me a full year to do so, whereupon I 
 volunteered to give him six per cent, for his money ; 
 
THE hotel-keeper's BILL. 21/ 
 
 consequently, till the stipulated year expires, and I then 
 should fail in the fulfilment of my promise, I take it, there 
 is no question of a bad debt between me and M. 
 K .' 
 
 " ' Oh ! no, no, clearly not, madam ; I merely thought 
 that, with Sir Edward's present fortune, it was a great 
 shame that you should be left in such a position, and that 
 he ought to be, and can be compelled, to pay your just 
 debts.' 
 
 " Poor Lady Lytton then had the humiliating task of 
 entering into an elaborate and minute detail of her 
 pecuniary position to this debt-collector to convince him 
 that applying to her honourable husband would not ensure 
 
 quicker payment to M. K , but would only plunge her 
 
 into deeper ruin, — by giving her cowardly persecutor a 
 feasible pretext for continuing to deprive her of the means 
 of existence, at the conclusion of which explanation Mr. 
 
 B affected to be so thoroughly convinced of the justice 
 
 of her statement that he departed with his fat friend, both 
 of them faithfully promising that no application should be 
 made to Sir Edward for the bill, and that she should have 
 the originally promised year to pay it. But every day poor 
 Lady Lytton was growing more nervous and more wretched, 
 for her pittance had not yet arrived. She had, out of the 
 ^22 got for the watch, paid iJ^i2 to the old woman of the 
 pension, and would soon have another fortnight to pay 
 her ; and having paid ^5 to her maid (her quarter's wages), 
 where was it to come from, and what ivas she to do ? 
 Moreover, Geneva was in a very disturbed state. There 
 was nothing but wars and rumours of wars, or at least 
 their small change, revolutions; and at the very name 
 the English, according to their wont, were all striking 
 their tents, 
 
 " Truly misfortunes never come singly. It was only 
 
 three weeks from Mr. B 's invasion, and her beggarly 
 
 pittance had not yet arrived. She took a letter hopelessly 
 and abstractedly from the packet, and broke the seal. It 
 was from her trustee. Sir Thomas Cullum, and ran as 
 follows : — 
 
2l8 LIFE OF LAI Y LYTTON. 
 
 " ' Hardwick, October, 1846. 
 
 " ' Dear Lady Lytton,— 
 
 " ' I am sorry to inform you that Sir Edward, 
 having been sued for an hotel bill on your account by M. 
 
 Jules K , of Geneva, your allowance must be further 
 
 stopped till the same is paid. 
 
 " ' I remain^ dear Lady Lytton, 
 " ' Yours truly, 
 
 '" Thomas G. Cullum.' 
 
 "This curt climax to all her pressing, harassing, goading 
 miseries fell from her hands ; and had it been a thunderbolt 
 instead of a simple sheet of paper, it could scarcely have 
 stunned her more." 
 
 Penniless, friendless, and desperate. Lady Lytton 
 appealed to Sir Thomas himself not to leave her to 
 perish of sheer want in a foreign country, reflecting 
 that any advance he might make to her could be 
 stopped in instalments out of her allowance, which 
 passed through his hands as trustee. 
 
 " She concluded by describing the state of insurrection 
 Geneva was in, and her not having one sou wherewith either 
 to go or remain, and imploring him, by every sentiment of 
 humanity and Christianity, not to leave her in so horrible a 
 strait, and above all to let her have an answer by return of 
 post, as that day week she was to be turned out of her 
 present shelter. That day week, while the cannon were 
 roaring from the ramparts of Geneva, the clash and clang 
 of steel echoing through the town, the yells of the victors 
 and the groans of the dying rolling like a muffled drum 
 accompaniment to the shrill clarions of anarchy, and the 
 gates of the town were just thrown open by the victorious 
 rabble, while the rain was descending in Alpine torrents, as 
 if endeavouring to wash away the blood that was flowing 
 
 through the streets, old Madame G , the ogress of the 
 
 pension, rushed into her room, exclaiming, * Dieu merci ! 
 Les Bouzingots ont gagne ! Via vos lettres ; vite, en route! 
 car le contingent sera ici a I'instant memo ! ' " 
 
A REJECTED APPEAL, 2ig 
 
 Lady Lytton despatched her maid for a vehicle of 
 some description or another, 
 
 " and hastily broke the seal of Sir Thomas's answer to 
 her urgent appeal. Amid the dull echoes of carnage and 
 the booming of artillery, now lessening into irregular and 
 distant volleys, which came rolling heavily from the 
 town, amid the rattling rain, there was something almost 
 supernaturally placid and peaceful in the imperturbable 
 tenor of Sir Thomas's epistle. Here it is : — 
 
 '• ' Hardwick House, October, 1S46. 
 
 '" Dear Lady Lytton, — 
 
 " ' I am extremely sorry to hear of the un- 
 comfortable position in which you are placed ; but, in 
 justice to myself, I cannot pursue any other course than 
 
 that of stopping your allowance till M. K 's demands 
 
 on you are satisfied. 
 
 " ' I am, dear Lady Lytton, 
 " ' Yours truly, 
 
 " ' Thomas G. Cullum. ' " 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 REVOLUTION IN GENEVA. 
 
 "Sir Thomas's letter, coming in the midst of all this 
 elemental and social strife, had, it must be confessed, 
 fallen cold and crushing, like an avalanche, upon this poor 
 wanderer's homeless, houseless heart. Where go ? What 
 do ? How ever pay the hard old harpy of the pension, 
 since of the current coin of the realm all she now possessed 
 in the world was twenty-five francs three sous ? In every 
 painful crisis of life there is no climax, because no stumbling- 
 block, so insurmountable as a financial one. Oh! how hard 
 it is in such peril-fi aught moments of impending wreck and 
 ruin to see God in everything ; to believe that all that befalls 
 us, however mysteriously dark and crookedly hard, is still 
 but the integral parts of a stupendous plan of wisdom, nay, 
 more, of mercy and of love ! Yet so it is ; the arm of Om- 
 nipotence is never so strong to save as when its hand is 
 heaviest upon us. And were we not thrust, hungry and 
 unpitied, from the gilded halls and sumptuous banquets of 
 the Dives of this world into life's cold, desolate, ever- 
 lengthening highway, we should never meet with those 
 good Samaritans who have compassion on us when the 
 priests and the Levites pass by on the other side. 
 
 " Eugenie, at the end of half an hour, returned, with the 
 son of the village voittirier, or rather charrettier, a lad of 
 about thirteen, who said that his father had not a carrias^e 
 of any sort, neither had any of the neighbours, but there 
 was one Paul Chappuis who had a cart, which would do for 
 the luggage, but it was out, and would not be in before two 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED. 22 1 
 
 (it was then half-past ten) ; and that, moreover, on account 
 of the great demand every sort of conveyance was in, he 
 asked sixteen francs to go with luggage as far as Geneva. 
 
 "This was a terrible inroad, certainly, into five-and- 
 twenty, more especially as poor Lady Lytton did not on 
 earth know where she was to find shelter for the night 
 
 when she got to the town, as after M. K 's gratuitous 
 
 treachery to her (though perhaps it was anything but 
 gratuitous) she had rather a dread of hotels ; but the first 
 thmg to be thought of was, how to get the ^12 she had to 
 
 pay Madame G , when she suddenly recollected a very 
 
 kind-hearted English or rather Irish woman who was 
 married to a Swiss colonel, who had served in the English 
 army, and gained many laurels and medals in the Penin- 
 sular war. As this lady had suffered much from many 
 vicissitudes in life herself, and was not overburdened with 
 money, she could feel for others, which, in this millennium 
 of mammon, mediocrity, and selfishness, none of those 
 whose fates are set in gold ever do ; so poor Lady Lytton 
 concluded what the Minerva Press would have called her 
 ' mental soliloquy ' with ' Yes, I know poor kind Mrs, 
 
 G e will do it if she can.' Her next step was to ask the 
 
 carter's boy what his name was, and if he would take a note 
 
 to Colonel G e's house in Geneva, and bring her back an 
 
 ansv/er, for five francs } To the first question he replied 
 that his name was Gregoire Bertholt, and to the second, 
 ' Je veux ben.' This point settled, she wrote a note to 
 
 Mrs. G e, telling her exactly what had happened, about 
 
 the scandalous stoppage of her allowance, and her penniless 
 condition, till she could get into Geneva to convert some- 
 thing into money, 
 
 " In the shortest space of time possible that Gregoire 
 could have gone over the three miles and back, he re- 
 turned, drenched to the skin and out of breath ; and when 
 Lady Lytton perceived that he did not make any attempt at 
 unearthing a note either from his pockets or cap, her heart 
 sank down into an almost deathlike absence of pulsation. 
 But as soon as Gregoire could speak he panted out, ' La 
 demoiselle va venir.' And even while she was paying him 
 
2 22 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 the wheels of a vehicle and the trab-trab of a horse's hoofs 
 were heard splashing through the mud ; and the next 
 moment a cJiar-d-banc drove up the avenue, and stopping 
 
 before the door, the eldest Miss G e emerged from its 
 
 crab-like interior, and her magnificent Oriental dark eyes 
 looked doubly beautiful from the diamond drops of kind- 
 ness in which they were floating. ' Poor dear Lady 
 Lytton!' said she; 'Mamma told me to give you this,' 
 placing a packet in Lady Lytton's hand ; but evidently 
 afraid of being thanked, she hastily added, ' But I can't stay 
 a moment ; for if I don't get back directly, they will be 
 frightened to death at home, thinking that I have fallen into 
 the hands of the Bouzingots, as you know, I suppose, that 
 all the English fled the day before yesterday ? ' 
 
 " And before Lady Lytton could say a word, or even 
 open the packet, she had sprung into the car, and driven off. 
 Upon opening it, Lady Lytton found that, instead of the 
 £i2 she had asked for, it contained £2\ ; but as the tears 
 streamed do^vn her cheeks at this proof of poor Mrs 
 
 G e's prompt and abounding kindness, she resolved, the 
 
 moment she reached Geneva, to return the other £\2, 
 although when the sixteen francs were paid to the man for 
 taking the luggage, her capital would then be reduced to 
 
 five francs three sous; and Mrs. G e, with all the delicate 
 
 and princely generosity which only the poor know how to 
 extract from their own necessities, when they afterwards 
 met, urged her in the strongest manner to keep the whole, 
 as she should not want it for at least a year to come. 
 
 " The old beldame of the pension insisted that all her 
 then inmates should, without a moment's delay, turn out, 
 and, as some were bound for France, others for Germany, 
 and others for Lausanne, every available post-horse for 
 three leagues round was in requisition, so that neither horse 
 nor conveyance beyond the before-mentioned cart was to 
 be had for love or money. In vain Lady Lytton implored 
 her hostess to let her remain one day more, or even a few 
 hours longer, till the storm should have, in some degree, 
 abated ; she was inexorable, so they had nothing for it but 
 to leave the pitiless landlady for the only less pitiless storm 
 
TERRIBLE SCENES. 22 3 
 
 and wend their melancholy way through the mud and rain 
 after the slow and heavily laden cart into Geneva. 
 
 "The gates of the town had not been many minutes 
 reopened to comers and goers, but instead of the ordinary 
 impassible, stolid-looking Swiss soldiers, pacing up and 
 down as sentries, were drunken Bouzingots, with their 
 blood and mud-smeared blouses, the only trophies of their 
 ignoble victory. The lamp-posts had been torn up, the 
 bridges burnt, with now a narrow plank thrown across as 
 the only means of transit ; and as the dead and dying were 
 still lying about, the streets were running with blood. At 
 this horrible spectacle poor Eugenie had another fit of 
 hysterics, and no earthly power could induce her to ven- 
 ture through the town in its then state till she had ascer- 
 tained the fate of her lover and brother, so her mistress had 
 nothing for it but to wade through all these horrors alone, 
 or at least with only her poor faithful dog, and leave the 
 maid there with the luggage while she went in quest of 
 some place of shelter. All the English having fled from 
 Geneva at the report of the first revolutionary popgun, 
 what to do or whither to go she knew not. In this cruel 
 perplexity she suddenly recollected that there lived on the 
 Place St. Antoine a Madame George, who was in the 
 habit of letting houses to the English, and also of hiring 
 out plate, linen, and furniture ; so, with a faint heart, she 
 began toiling up the steep hill that leads to the Place St. 
 Antoine, the ascent of which was now rendered doubly 
 arduous by the slippery, miry state of the roads. 
 
 " When she at length arrived at the Maison Duval, as 
 Madame George's house was called, her heart literally 
 seemed to sink into her shoes, for was she not, for the first 
 time in her life, going to implore charity ? And of whom ? 
 Of a Swiss ! and her empty pockets appeared to be 
 suddenly inflated, as it were, with a condensed hurricane, 
 croaking out, * Point d'argent, point de Suisse ! ' " 
 
 But Lady Lytton's misgivings were luckily fal- 
 sified, and once more she found kindness and 
 
224 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 generosity in a quarter where she had the least 
 right to expect them. No sooner had Mademoiselle 
 George heard her piteous story than she insisted 
 that Lady Lytton should at once take possession of 
 a suite of rooms in the Maison Duval, on the terms 
 that she should be called upon to pay for nothing 
 whatever until it happened to suit her circumstances 
 to do so. Unwilling as she was to trespass upon 
 this generous woman's kindness, Lady Lytton's em- 
 barrassments left her no choice in the matter; and at 
 the ^Laison Duval she accordingly took up her resi- 
 dence. 
 
 "That winter," to resume the narrative, "which Lady 
 Lytton had dreaded, thinking it would be the most 
 wretched of her wretched Hfe, was, on the contrary, made, 
 by the active and ceaseless kindness of genuine friends, one 
 of the happiest she has to look back to." 
 
 Early, however, in 1847 Lady Lytton began to 
 make arrangements for quitting Geneva, a course 
 which she had only been prevented hitherto from 
 adopting by the helplessness inseparable from 
 poverty. A kind friend, Mrs. Sandby, offered to 
 give her temporary shelter in her native country 
 until such time as Sir Edward could be compelled 
 to put his wife's affairs on a satisfactory footing and 
 make her an allowance commensurate in some 
 degree with her necessities ; and having found this 
 welcome asylum, it only remained for her to prepare 
 for departure. 
 
 " But there was much still to be done before Lady 
 Lytton could quit Geneva ; there was still .^500 owing for 
 the legal expenses of the Paris conspiracy, and, inclusive of 
 
GOOD SAMARITANS. 22$ 
 
 Mademoiselle George's claim, about iJ"200 in Geneva. Upon 
 this Mr. Sandby kindly lent her ;^2oo at five per cent., and 
 Mrs. Sandby more kindly applied to a friend of hers, a Mr. 
 Berrington (would that I were at liberty to inscribe the real 
 name in golden letters), nor was the application in vain : 
 he said he once travelled with an American who gave him 
 a harrowing account of the dreadful usage poor Lady 
 Lytton received from her amiable husband, and that ever 
 since he had felt the greatest commiseration for her, and 
 instantly wrote a cheque for ^^^400. When Lady Lytton 
 received it a thousand complex feelings of gratitude and 
 humiliation, pain and pleasure, seemed rushing upon her, 
 as it were to suffocate her. She wrote endeavouring to 
 thank him, as far as words could do so, and acknowledged 
 the debt at five per cent, interest. He returned this 
 acknowledgment to her torn up, with such a charming 
 letter, in which he said that, ' of course, were she ever in 
 the proper pecuniary position that she ought to be, he 
 would not offend her by refusing to take back that trifling 
 sum ; but till then she must not even remember that he 
 had ever sent it.' Alas, alas ! to this day that ^400 remains 
 unpaid.* 
 
 "But that spring of 1847 seemed to have produced a 
 perfect harvest of good Samaritans, for this ^600 being 
 instantly appropriated to its predestined use, and Lady 
 Lytton's munificent allowance being still in arrear, on 
 account of the hotel bill, she was personally as destitute 
 as ever, when, not to leave the work half done, La 
 Reine de Mont Blanc,t with her usual active kindness, 
 procured from two admirable women, Les Soeurs Tirard, in 
 the Carraterie, another £100, to be repaid in two years, and 
 also a supply of clothes, of which Lady Lytton was sadly 
 in want. 
 
 " But truly ' man never is, but always to be blessed,' for 
 though it had been so long her most earnest wish to get 
 out of Geneva, that little narrow-minded republic, which 
 
 * It was repaid in 1859. — L. D. 
 
 t This lady, the Comtesse d'Angeville, was so called because she 
 was the first woman to make the ascent of that mountain. 
 
 15 
 
2 26 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 was SO withering and uncongenial to her in every way, yet, 
 now that the hour of her emancipation drew nigh, she only 
 thought of the kind faithful hearts she was leaving behind 
 — hearts which had so generously, so delicately, and so 
 unceasingly ministered to hers in all ways and sheltered 
 her through that long rigorous winter 1846-47 and her 
 still harder fate. But it was not only the pain of parting 
 that awaited her: she had another struggle to encounter 
 which she certainly had not anticipated. The moment 
 she received Mr. Berrington's most generous loan she flew to 
 discharge the very least part of her debt to Mademoiselle 
 George, but that excellent and decidedly unique woman 
 resolutely put her hands behind her back and obstinately 
 refused to receive one sou. Long and obstinate was the 
 contest on both sides ; but Lady Lytton was at length 
 obliged to yield, as the only concession that Rothschild of 
 good Samaritans, Mademoiselle George, would make was 
 allowing her guest to refund the amount of all the little 
 bills she had been secretly paying during the winter. 
 
 " That I ith of May, 1847, though one of the finest days 
 that ever came out of the heavens, was yet a dark one in 
 Lady Lytton's heart ; is it that coming events do indeed 
 cast their shadows before .'' She then thought it was only 
 the sorrow of parting from such very kind friends." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 RETURN TO ENGLAND — EFFORTS TO OBTAIN A 
 SETTLEMENT. 
 
 So Lady Lytton started on her return journey in 
 company with " a very stupid Swiss maid," and after 
 experiencing a considerable amount of discomfort 
 duly arrived at the country house of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Sandby on the 29th of May, 1847. 
 
 " Never did a fairyographer (there is a nice and much- 
 wanted word !) imagine or describe anything more beauti- 
 ful in its way than that cultivated happy-looking scenery. 
 Those green, green lanes, with all their leafy affluence, vocal 
 with innumerable birds, which burst into view on every side 
 as they approached the rectory, the air embalmed with a 
 perfect mosaic of perfumes, above all of which, however, 
 the queenly may predominated, the brilliant rays of the 
 morning sun playing bo-peep, as it were, with the spring air 
 through the timid quivering leaves, the soft yet penetrating 
 odour of the flowers, the song of the birds, the kiss of the 
 gentle genial air — all seemed so many affectionate greet- 
 ings in voiceless words, of which nature has so many, 
 and which the heart alone can hear, but to which the eyes 
 alone reply ; for extremes do indeed meet, and sorrow or 
 great joy have but one language — tears ! 
 
 " It was a very pretty modern Gothic-Elizabethan, gable- 
 end pile of buildings, built to correspond with the old Hall. 
 As the carriage stopped before the gates the beatings of 
 Lady Lytton's heart became so tumultuous as to be pain- 
 ful in the extreme, and no sooner did Mrs. Sandby hear 
 
228 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 the wheels than she and her little girl came to the door, 
 and as the carriage turned round the sweep of the avenue 
 Lady Lytton could not wait for it to arrive at the hall door, 
 but jumped out, which, the carriage being a brougham, she 
 was enabled to do without breaking her neck, and the next 
 moment she found herself clasped in her friend's arms." 
 
 I pass on to a description of Lady Lytton's host. 
 
 "The Rev. Mr. Sandby was a jovial country gentleman- 
 looking man, who might from his appearance with equal 
 propriety have represented the younger son of a duke in 
 an agricultural county, or that which he did represent, an 
 independent clergyman of the Church of England, who had 
 graduated at Christ Church. He laughed off Lady Lytton's 
 thanks, and said, rubbing his hands merrily as he looked 
 at her, — 
 
 " ' Well, truth is stranger than fiction. I am very glad to 
 see you at Flixton, and should like to see the enemy's face 
 when they really know you have arrived, and your ' eagles 
 begin to flutter among the Volsci.' 
 
 " In short, he was exceedingly kind and hospitable. 
 
 " A day or two after Lady Lytton's arrival at Flixton, 
 Mr. Hartcup, Mr. Sandby's solicitor, came over ; and it 
 was arranged that as he was going to town in the middle 
 of June about a Chancery suit, Mr. Sandby should accom- 
 pany him, and they should jointly make a personal applica- 
 tion to Sir Edward Bulwer. But Mr. Hartcup, who had 
 just returned from London, had already called upon Loaden, 
 intimating to him that he had better advise his client, Sir 
 Edward, to make some prompt and amicable arrangement 
 about allowing his wife something at least approaching to 
 a competency, as otherwise she was determined to proceed 
 against him in the Ecclesiastical Court. 
 
 "But Mr. Hartcup's journey to London was repeatedly 
 put off, so that she had that sharpest fang of the serpent 
 sorrow, suspense, added to all the others. Shortly after- 
 wards she received an invitation from a Mrs. Dennett, who 
 
AN UNSATISFACTORY INTERVIEW. 229 
 
 had a villa on the Thames in one of the outskirts of 
 London ; and having no desire to again see London, where 
 she had suffered so much, and to see it more especially 
 under the miserable and destitute circumstances she was 
 then placed in, she accepted this invitation conditionally, 
 leaving it very doubtful whether she should be able to go 
 to London or not. But this contemplated visit was easier 
 in theory than in practice, as where was the money to come 
 from .'' The July quarter of her parish allowance would 
 have to be sent off to Geneva, and then she must make 
 some arrangements to leave her present quarters. 
 
 "At length Mr. Sandby and his solicitor went to 
 London ; and as Sir Edward, like all other great men, 
 never was to be got at without an intermediary, in reply to 
 Mr. Sandby 's note requesting an interview, he was referred 
 to Mr. Beavan. But alas for the frail tenure of all earthly 
 powers ! for this negotiation with Mr. Sandby was almost 
 the last little episode of dirty work Mr. Beavan was enabled 
 to transact for his friend Sir Edward previous to his being 
 compelled to leave his country for his country's good for 
 some fraudulent proceedings. 
 
 " Now it may be here necessary to observe that it was a 
 sort of ruse en permajience of Sir Edward and his whole 
 clique always to begin as if they had every inclination to 
 accede to the propositions made to them on Lady Lytton's 
 behalf. Consequently, when Mr. Sandby had represented 
 to Mr. Beavan that, with Sir Edward's present large in- 
 crease of fortime, he thought the pittance allowed his wife 
 scandalous, and therefore he hoped he would increase it to 
 something like an adequate income without compelling her 
 to sue him in the Ecclesiastical Court, Mr. Beavan leant 
 forward and said, — 
 
 " ' Ah, yes, certainly ; with his present fortune, ^^"400 
 a year is very little, too little, I should say, for Lady 
 Lytton ; and I'll represent this to Sir Edward, and endea- 
 vour to get him to increase it, but, at the same time, I must 
 warn you not to expect too much, for he's as near as the 
 very devil ; but perhaps a personal interview might be 
 
2 30 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 better, if you would meet him here to-morrow between one 
 and two.' 
 
 " So Mr. Sandby wrote to Lady Lytton by that day's post 
 detailing this interview with Beavan, and saying he had no 
 doubt he should get her £800, but he feared not more. 
 Meanwhile that great man Sir Edward Lytton, after 
 hearing Mr. Beavan's report of the enemy's forces, or rather 
 weakness, resolved to take the field in person. The follow- 
 ing day, when Sir Edward entered Mr. Beavan's office, 
 it was with the air of a lawgiving conqueror ; and, after 
 taking the initiative with a sort of permit-you-to-live bow 
 to Mr. Sandby and his solicitor, he began by announcing 
 that instead of making his wife an additional allowance it 
 was his wish to get a divorce ; and if he brought an action 
 against her (not intimating with whom she was to be 
 accused, for that, of course, he had still to invent), he would 
 allow her to defend herself, but on the express proviso that 
 she did not recriminate upon him ! 
 
 " Now, will it be believed that this superfluous outrage, 
 which, like most of Sir Edward Lytton's proceedings, would 
 have been too ridiculous had it not been too infamous, was 
 actually communicated to Lady Lytton, not as a mere 
 report of the interview with her brutal tyrant, but as a 
 proposition .'' It is utterly impossible for any language to 
 describe the bitter and burning feeling of indignant disgust 
 and contempt that seized poor Lady Lytton upon receiving 
 this unheard-of insult. As it was, she wrote back that any 
 action Sir Edward chose to bring against her for murder, 
 adultery, or any other crime he chose to invent, so long 
 as it was in open court, she would be glad to meet ; but 
 as for recriminating, she certainly would not wait for that, 
 as Mr. Hartcup had her instructions instantly to proceed 
 against him in the Ecclesiastical Court for the recent affair 
 
 at M with Miss 's companion, Miss P . Now 
 
 when it is remembered that this mucli-outraged woman 
 had been originally turned out of her house for having, 
 on the strength of one of his own lies, gone to his 
 bachelor chambers in the Albany, believing him to be ill, 
 and caught him with one of his mistresses, the woman 
 
A SCANDALOUS PROPOSAL. 23 I 
 
 Deacon, and that then, even under such flagrant and 
 scandalous circumstances, she had not only no human 
 being to protect or right her, but merely a very distant 
 relation to reverse the positions, and put her completely in 
 the power of this unscrupulous and unparalleled villain, 
 and when it is further taken into consideration the manner 
 in which this wretch had ever since conspired against and 
 hunted her, the disgraceful Paris plot, followed up by the 
 recent one at Geneva, and, above all, the reports of the vile 
 treatment of her poor innocent child, which were rankling 
 in this outraged mother's heart, the violence of her indigna- 
 tion may be comprehensible." 
 
 Mr. Sandby's solicitor threatened a process against 
 Sir Edward in the Ecclesiastical Court on account of 
 his intrigue with this aforesaid companion ; but finding 
 that it was impossible to collect evidence of a suffi- 
 ciently conclusive character to establish his unfaith- 
 fulness, they were compelled to abandon the suit. 
 Naturally enough, Lady Lytton did not accept her 
 husband's generous offer to obtain a divorce on con- 
 dition that while he accused her of wrong-doing 
 with some imaginary lover, she, on her part, should 
 refrain from publishing any of his numerous infidelities 
 — a truly astounding proposal, which, were it not for 
 indisputable evidence, I should have had consider- 
 able difficulty in ascribing even to Sir Edward 
 Lytton.* 
 
 " In due time Mr. Hartcup's services were followed by a 
 long bill, amounting to ^^75, of which she ultimately paid 
 
 A year later this offer was renewed, namely, that "she should 
 connive at her own dishonour by allowing her husband to sue for 
 a divorce, with the same special clause that she should not recrimi- 
 nate upon him, and the additional stipulation that she was not to 
 breathe a word of this arrangement to any mortal, as if it was 
 known that there was anything like collusion, it would prevent the 
 
2 32 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 ;{^20, though upon getting the bill taxed by another soli- 
 citor, he said that the ;^20 Mr. Hartley had received was 
 just ;^I5 too much for what he had done or rather 
 not done. 
 
 " It is scarcely possible to describe the chevaux de frise 
 of conflicting tortures by which poor Lady Lytton felt 
 herself hedged in on every side : despair at her total 
 friendlessness and powerlessness, which placed her com- 
 pletely at the mercy of her cruel, unscrupulous enemy ; 
 humiliation and disgust at not having a sou wherewith to 
 leave her present quarters, for it was then only June, and 
 the next quarter of her parish allowance — the first free 
 
 since the payment of M. Jules K 's bill — was not due till 
 
 July, and even when she had it she was in perfect ignorance 
 as to knowing how or where to live on such a sum in 
 England, Clever Sir Edward Lytton ! How scientifically 
 you calculated the perilous straits, the bitter insults, the 
 degrading necessities with which you would compass your 
 penniless victim ! She finally resolved, coitte que cottte, to 
 accept Mrs. Dennett's invitation ; but where was the money 
 
 Bill passing the Lords, but that if she would consent to this, he 
 would pay her debts and give her a sum of money to start upon." 
 
 With reference to this proposal, Lady Lytton wrote as follows to 
 Mr. Hartcup : — 
 
 ''March 2^fh, 1848. 
 
 "I beg most explicitly to disclaim ever having written one 
 word to you in reference to yourself individually which you could 
 with any shadow of foundation construe into unwarrantable irritation 
 against you personally, as, notwithstanding the just cause I had 
 for unbounded indignation and contempt at the proposition contained 
 in your letter of January 5th, I did not, in my reply to it, even 
 express my surprise that you, as fny solicitor, should have done 
 otherwise than indignantly decline to Mr. Beavan to be made the 
 medium of such an insulting proposition, the more insulting and 
 ridiculous from not having been made at the outset of the negotiation, 
 if they dared to make it at all, than as di pis-aller a.t the end of nine 
 months' frivolous and vexatious falsehood and equivocation. 
 " I have the honour, etc., 
 
 " ROSINA BULWER LYTTON." 
 
 When the letter containing this insulting proposal arrived. Miss 
 Blanche was present (Mrs. Curteis Whelan). 
 
MRS. WHELAN'S narrative. 233 
 
 to come from ? The only available thing she had was 
 a silver-gilt dejeihier, consisting of a cup, saucer, cream- 
 ewer, sugar and slop-basin, which had been the grateful 
 offering of a poor working jeweller whom she had got out 
 of prison at Geneva for a political offence. She was, 
 indeed, sorry to part with the poor man's gift, but she 
 at length made up her mind to do so ; but its being 
 foreign was made a pretext for depreciating its value, and 
 the mighty sum this beginning of a series of sacrifices 
 brought was £12 i^s. Well, it would do to take her to 
 London and to keep her there for a few days ; so, with 
 a solitary sigh for poor Taffy, her faithful dog, who had 
 been left in charge of good Mrs. Howard, once more, with 
 a heavy heart, she entered the modern Babylon." 
 
 Lady Lytton stayed tvjo or three weeks with this 
 Mrs. Dennett (her real name was Mrs. Leicester 
 Stanhope, afterwards Countess of Harrington). 
 She then returned to Mrs, Sandby's, and left in 
 October, 1847, for apartments at East Ham. In 
 1848 she left East Ham, and went to reside with 
 the assistant chaplain at the Tower of London. 
 
 The following is Mrs. Whelan's account of her 
 first meeting with Lady Lytton in 1847, and of the 
 impressions she received of that lady and of her 
 misfortunes. 
 
 Mrs. Curteis Whelan's Narrative. 
 
 "7«/j, 1847. 
 " In the summer of 1847, my father, Mr. J. R. Planche 
 with my sister and myself, were invited by the Hon. 
 Mrs, Leicester Stanhope, afterwards Countess of Harring- 
 ton, to a garden party at Ashburnham House. On reaching 
 the lawn, where most of the company were assembled, my 
 attention was drawn to a lady of remarkable beauty, who 
 stood in a group with some others a short distance off. 
 On asking my father who it was, he said he did not know, 
 
2 34 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 but he would inquire, and discovered very quickly that this 
 beautiful woman was the wife of the novelist Bulwer 
 Lytton, ' from whom/ my father said, ' she is separated, 
 mind, if you are introduced to her,' The introduction 
 followed immediately ; and we passed the afternoon talking 
 to and admiring the wit and loveliness of our fresh acquaint- 
 ance, who was, we-found, on a visit to Mrs. Leicester Stan- 
 hope for some ten days. Above the average height, with 
 an exquisitely shaped head. Lady Lytton's eyes were the 
 distinguishing feature of her face from their superb lustre 
 and colour ; but her mouth and nose were worthy neigh- 
 bours of such eyes. Her hair and eyebrows were dark, 
 while her complexion was brilliantly fair ; and I was in- 
 formed on speaking of her to dear old Mr. Edmund Byng, 
 a very intimate friend of ours, that ' Rosina Wheeler was 
 the most lovely girl ever seen in London ' when she first 
 came to town. He remembered her quite well. 
 
 " We did not see Lady Lytton again after this garden 
 party, as she returned to Suffolk, where she was paying 
 another visit, till early in the following year, when her 
 maid arrived at my father's house one day with a note in- 
 viting my sister and myself to stay with Lady Lytton for 
 a few days at East Ham, where she had taken part of a 
 villa house. I was so completely fascinated at my first 
 interview that I eagerly accepted the invitation ; but the 
 night of our arrival was passed by me in bitter tears for 
 the heart-breaking sorrows which were the sad outpourings 
 of the soul of my poor friend to one in whom she found 
 she had inspired a passionate love for herself and a burn- 
 ing desire to serve her if possible. These sorrows would 
 not have been confided to me on so short an acquaintance 
 but for the fact that a letter had reached Lady Lytton 
 tliat very day from a solicitor who had been instructed by 
 the solicitor employed by her husband to offer her certain 
 ttrms on which her debts would be paid, and a further 
 allowance made to her. These terms were so shameful 
 that her whole nature was shocked and repelled ; and I 
 
MRS. WHELAN'S narrative. 235 
 
 could but admire the courage (on hearing the particulars) 
 with which she had nerved herself to welcome and enter- 
 tain two comparative strangers, and put aside the tumult 
 of feeling which this letter had excited in her. Towards 
 evening, however, she broke down; and then I heard by- 
 degrees of the treatment this lovely woman had experienced 
 for years, and the separation from her of her children, a 
 daughter, Emily, and a son, Robert (the present Earl of 
 Lytton), who were taken from her at an early age, and 
 whom she had never seen since. Ten years had nearly- 
 elapsed since they were severed from her, and she had 
 vainly sought for her daughter. I made Lady Lytton a 
 promise there and then that I would do all I could to 
 obtain tidings of her daughter, and find her if possible; and 
 the Almighty blessed my efforts, for in 2^ few months from 
 that time I discovered Miss Lytton in a small lodging in 
 Brompton. I have given all the particulars of her death 
 in that lodging of typhoid fever in ' another place,' and the 
 cruel and inhuman treatment of her mother by the doctors 
 and others, so that it is not necessary to allude to it here 
 except to mention the fact that I was enabled to fulfil 
 my promise. After the tragedy of Miss Lytton's death 
 and burial, I persuaded Lady Lytton to leave East Ham 
 and reside with a clergyman and his wife, relations of my 
 own, to protect her from the perpetual annoyances she was 
 continually exposed to, and in that house I had more 
 opportunities of seeing and experience of the persecution 
 she so continually suffered from. Her nature was noble 
 and intensely loving, her temper hasty, but she was very 
 generous and forgiving if she saw the least possible sign of 
 repentance from any who insulted or injured her. She had 
 given me for her daughter, if I discovered her, a diamond 
 bracelet, a gift from the Duchess of Saxe Coburg Gotha 
 to Lady Lytton when at Geneva, where she lived for some 
 time before my acquaintance with her, and a packet con- 
 taining the most loving address to her child, which on her 
 shocking death she made me read as I returned the 
 
236 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 bracelet and packet to her. And I can testify to the fact 
 that her first thought and utterance of grief on my telling 
 her that her poor daughter was dead was praying for the 
 father of her child. 
 
 " I had another painful task of breaking to her the 
 death of her mother, Mrs. Wheeler, whom she described to 
 me as completely taken up with social questions and 
 lectures of the Miss Martineau type, and who had lived 
 with Sir John Doyle ( Lady Lytton's great-uncle) in Guern- 
 sey, where the early days of Lady Lytton were passed. 
 Miss Wheeler came to London to school, I think, in Hans 
 Place, Sloane Street, Chelsea, amusingly described in her 
 ' Autobiography of Miriam Sedley,' 1850 ; and she often told 
 me how grieved she was that she had not studied music more 
 than she had done. She was passionately fond of animals, 
 especially dogs. ' There is no deceit or treachery in these 
 darlings,' she frequently said." 
 
 I append a letter from Lady Lytton to Miss 
 Planche. 
 
 Lady Lytton to Miss Planche. 
 
 "January 2']ih, 1848. 
 
 " My own Darling Kate, — 
 
 " I have just received your kind little note of 
 yesterday, for which and all else God bless you. Do try 
 and thank the kind-hearted lawyer. Oh ! what a dreadful 
 thing it is to be such a.Jleati as I am to every one I And 
 lion-hearted as you are, my own darling, I feel as if I were 
 dastardly enough to let you fight single-handed against 
 a fearful odds of fifty to one, or lead a forlorn hope against 
 a legion of devils, which Sir Liar, with his money, his infamy, 
 and iiis tools, unquestionably is. Eugene Sue, in one of 
 his letters to me, speaks of his admiration ' pour cette 
 femme fiere et courageuse,' meaning your humble servant ; 
 but what would he think of you, darling } I will be up (if 
 I am alive) on Saturday to receive you and your kind 
 friend. I cannot swallow anything without feeling nausea, 
 
A PITEOUS LETTER. 237 
 
 but it is no wonder, the prolonged and intense destitution 
 that fiend keeps me in is such a source of constant worry, 
 anxiety, and humihation. I could not help smiling, dearest, 
 when in one of your letters you talk to me of rigid economy, 
 and saving money out of my pittance to pay the interest of 
 the money I owe. Alas ! I should be too happy to have 
 the power of doing so; but when even that wretched driblet 
 is never paid me for weeks, sometimes months, after it is 
 due, how on earth am I to do so .'' I have been at my old 
 extremity of selling things for almost nothing to get even 
 a few postage stamps, for tJiis is my sort of zvaiit, not one 
 iota less imaginary than the literal fact of being without 
 one sou on earth, and Byrne crying and refusing to go and 
 sell the things, in the hope that to-morrow (that great 
 chronological swindler of the wretched) will bring my 
 money, whereas I know it will always bring me fresh 
 duns and fresh insults. God keep you, my own darling, 
 from ever knowing the degradation of this sort of misery. 
 There is a dignity in great afflictions which suffices for 
 their own support, but these leprous gnat bites make one 
 almost loathe one's self. Verily English men are charming 
 husbands ; and English laws are still more charming. 
 There was a man at Geneva who had taken all his children 
 away from his wife, even to the baby, and prevents her 
 seeing them, kindly assuring her (Hke Sir Liar) that her 
 consenting to a divorce is the only way to arrange matters 
 between them. His poor heart-broken wife is now at 
 Brighton ; and, of course, upon her indignantly rejecting 
 this (as I did), he has threatened to get up some plot to 
 ruin her ; and being rich, a husband, and in nioj'al England, 
 where all manly infamy is encouraged and protected, both 
 legally and socially, he will no doubt succeed. 
 " God bless you, my own noble-minded darling. 
 " Your 
 
 " ROSINA BULWER LyTTON." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ILLNESS AND DEATH OF EMILY BULWER LYTTON. 
 
 I PASS on now to one of the most melancholy- 
 episodes of Lady Lytton's unhappy life : the illness 
 and death of her beloved daughter, Emily Elizabeth 
 Bulwer Lytton. The writer of the following is the 
 same Mrs. Curteis Whelan to whom reference has 
 been made above. Lady Lytton enlisted her services 
 for obtaining any information about Miss Lytton, 
 whose place of residence had always been carefully 
 concealed from the mother. Inquiries among the 
 friends of Sir Edward who were also her own had 
 no satisfactory result, and she had despaired of 
 success, when an accident procured all the informa- 
 tion required ; but this had better be explained in her 
 own words. 
 
 Letter respecting the Death of Miss Lytton (1848) 
 FROM Miss Katherine Planche (an Eye-witness) 
 TO the Baroness de Ritter. 
 
 " The Lodge, Michael's Grove, Brompton, 
 
 ''May 2%th, 1 848. 
 
 " Madam, — 
 
 "Though a perfect stranger, I venture to address 
 you on the part of Lady Bulwer Lytton, whose personal and 
 most intimate friend I have the honour to be. Having heard 
 her repeatedly express a deep anxiety to learn any parti- 
 culars connected with her much-loved and unfortunate 
 daughter, my wish to gratify so natural a desire has em- 
 
MRS. WHELAN'S letter. 239 
 
 boldened me to write to you, of whose kindness to Miss 
 Lytton I have heard so much. I trust I am not the first 
 person to acquaint you with the fatal termination of her 
 illness, which ended in typhus fever on the 29th of April, 
 two days after the arrival, at my instigation, of her mother. 
 Her Ladyship hired the room which you had vacated, and 
 remained during the whole night of the 27th on the stair- 
 case, listening to poor Emily's continued exclamations 
 about ' my mother,' that mother having given her word of 
 honour to the medical man, Mr. Rouse, that nothing should 
 tempt her into her child's room, as he represented that any 
 sudden emotion would endanger her life, at the same time 
 assuring her mother that there was no danger to be appre- 
 hended at that moment, and that the poor young victim's 
 illness was merely an attack of hysteria. The agony that 
 Lady Lytton suffered during that night, hearing her child's 
 voice for the first time for ten years, in supplication and 
 pain, can easily be understood, madam, by you, who are 
 a mother, and the unparalleled control she had over her 
 feelings can only be believed by those who witnessed it. 
 " By some treachery the next morning Sir Edward was 
 informed of Lady Lytton's arrival, and, remaining himself 
 at Miss Greene's, ordered the medical men to desire Lady 
 Lytton to leave the house, upon the plea that her presence 
 in it had already endangered poor dear Emily's life, when 
 she had not either seen or heard her mother, and had not 
 the slightest suspicion of her being so near her. Dr. Mar- 
 shall Hall and Mr. Rouse executed Sir Edward's orders in 
 the most cruel and ungentlemanlike manner, as I am, 
 unfortunately for them, a witness of; and dear Lady Lytton, 
 at my entreaties (which were the more urgent from my 
 suspicion that, if dear Emily died. Sir Edward would 
 accuse Lady Lytton of being the cause of her death), left 
 the house and went home with me in a state of mind which 
 I cannot attempt to describe. Her poor child died the 
 next evening, having been seen in her last moments by 
 Dr. Tweedie (one of our most celebrated physicians) on the 
 part of Lady Lytton, who pronounced her decease to be 
 from typhus fever. 
 
240 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 "On Sir Edward's first discovery of Lady Lytton's arrival, 
 he suspected that she had been summoned by you to her 
 daughter, which suspicion leads me to hope that you have 
 sympathised with and pitied the dear girl's motherless 
 position, and endeavoured to alleviate it as much as pos- 
 sible, 
 
 " I need scarcely say that any little circumstance con- 
 nected with her beloved child will be vitally interesting to 
 my dear friend ; and she is, I know, most grateful to you and 
 your daughter for the affection and kindness you manifested 
 to poor Emily during her life. Poor child ! by this most 
 untimely end she is spared the cruel knowledge of all her 
 mother has suffered through ten long years of separation 
 from her children. 
 
 " I must entreat you to pardon my intrusion upon you, 
 madam, and that you will kindly and charitably throw any 
 light in your power upon the early portion of the poor girl's 
 illness. I shall most anxiously look for an answer from 
 you, and with the assurance of my respect, 
 
 " I have the honour to be, madam, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 " Katherine Frances Planch6. 
 " To the Baroness de Ritter." 
 
 The Baroness de Ritter's Answer to Miss Blanche's 
 
 Letter. 
 
 •' ViENNE, Spiegelgasse No. 1,098, \e j^^^^/uin, 1848. 
 
 " Madame, — 
 
 " J'ai regu hier votre lettre du 29 Mai, qui contient 
 les premieres nouvelles directes de la mort de la pauvre 
 Emily Lytton, qui m'a fait une sensation inexprimable, car je 
 puis bien vous assurer, que j'aimais cette douce et excellente 
 enfant comme ma propre fille — qui est maintenant au 
 desespoir, ayant perdu si impr^vu, son unique amie, qu'elle 
 adorait. Ma douleur en est extreme, et je regrette de tout 
 mon coeur de ne pas etre rest^e aupres d'Emily jusqu'a son 
 dernier soupir ; mais j'ai pass^e aupres d'elle tout I'ete 
 pass6e et une partie de I'hiver, et comme ma famille exigeait 
 
THE BARONESS DE RITTER'S REPLY. 24 1 
 
 mon retour, je ne pouvaisabsolument rester plus longtemps 
 en Angleterre. 
 
 "Je plains de tout mon coeur la pauvre mere de I'infor- 
 tunee Emily, car je mesure ses sentiments d'apres les 
 miens, et je deplore les circonstances qui ne lui ont pas 
 permis de s'approcher du lit de son pauvre enfant mourante, 
 qui a tres souvent prononce le nom de sa mere pendant sa 
 maladie. Je ne puis vous dire exactement la cause de sa 
 maladie, car elle a ete separee de moi plusieurs mois, 
 ayant accepte une invitation amicale de la famille D'Eyn- 
 court a Bayons, ou elle a re^u un rhume tres fort, de sorte 
 qu'elle a continue de tousser d'une maniere tres inquietante 
 a son retour chez moi a Londres ; j'ai eu tous les regards 
 possibles pour elle, mais sans succes ; enfin elle a 6t6 forcee 
 de se mettre au lit puisqu'un mal de tete afifreux la tour- 
 mentait jour et nuit ; je n'ai pas quitte son lit pendant 
 plusieurs semaines, et elle a re^u tous les soins possibles ; 
 enfin on a pris une bonne pour la soigner encore mieux, et 
 les medegins m'ont pries dene plus entrer danssa chambre, 
 craignant que la vue des personnes, qu'elle aimait ne I'ex- 
 citait trop. On m'a assure, qu'il n'y avait pas de danger 
 pour sa vie ; et apres avoir prie Sir Edward de m'amener 
 ma douce Emily a Vienne apres son retablissement pour 
 changer d'air, je partis dans I'espoir detrouver ici de bonnes 
 nouvelles, qui m'auraient dedommagees de I'etat deplorable 
 dans lequel j'ai retrouve ma patrie apres une absence de dix 
 mois, et je puis bien dire que j'ai passees les premieres 
 semaines en pleurs, et je me sens incapable de donner des 
 consolations a Lady Lytton, que je n'ai I'honneur de con- 
 naitre ; je puis seulement lui conseiller d'implorer le bon 
 Dieu pour supporter cette perte douloureuse, et de se con- 
 soler avec I'idee assurante, que notre pauvre Emily a quitte 
 une vie pleine de peines, pour recevoir pres de Dieu les 
 recompenses pour ses excellentes qualites, dont j'ai ete 
 temoin si longtemps. 
 
 " Agr6ez, quoique inconnue, I'assurance de respect de 
 
 " Votre sincere 
 
 " Amelie de Ritter." 
 
 16 
 
242 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 The following is a more detailed account of the 
 same event by Mrs. Whelan : — 
 
 " Singularly enough, one evening in the month of April, 
 1848, a friend of my father's came to see us, and said to 
 me immediately on entering the room, ' Do you know that 
 tlie young lady you are in search of is living close here ? ' 
 He then explained that while sitting in the shop of a 
 chemist in the Fulham Road, he was shown a prescription, 
 and told that the daughter of Bulwer Lytton was lying 
 dangerously ill at a small lodging-house in Pelham Terrace, 
 Pelham Crescent, Brompton, and that Dr. Rouse, of Ful- 
 ham, whom I knew, was attending her. Sad as such news 
 was, I hastened next morning to Pelham Terrace, and 
 seeing a shopboy knock at a door, I waited till he had 
 been answered, and then hazarded the inquiry, ' How is 
 Miss Lytton to-day.''' when inmiediately came the reply, 
 ' A little better, we think.' Overjoyed at my success, I 
 flew home to the Lodge, Michael's Grove, to tell my father, 
 and to send the information to Lady Bulwer Lytton ; but 
 upon further consideration I determined to go myself to 
 East Ham, thinking it better than writing, and never shall 
 I forget the mixed pain and pleasure of my visit It was 
 soon arranged that Lady Lytton should come, with her old 
 faithful servant Byrne (who had been Miss Lytton's nurse), 
 to town, and see if she could possibly gain access to, and 
 help to nurse her daughter, under conditions so unsuited 
 to her position and age. 
 
 " I had soon observed from the style of house that it was 
 let out in separate rooms and apartments, to people in a 
 humble sphere of life, and was therefore most anxious that 
 Lady Lytton should first come to us ; but she overruled 
 my objections, and early next morning arrived at Pelham 
 Terrace, where she engaged a room at the top of the same 
 house for herself and Byrne, and then sent me a letter 
 requesting me to come to her after dark. I did so, taking 
 my own maid with me, and on ascending the wretched 
 narrow staircase I passed the second-floor back room, 
 which I then heard was Miss Lytton's, and was soon re- 
 
MRS. WHELAN'S narrative. 243 
 
 ceived by Byrne and the dear and basely wronged wife 
 and mother. ' She is insensible, Kate,' cried Lady Lytton 
 on seeing me, 'and I am to see her in half an hour ; I have 
 bribed the nurse and landlady.' Then tears and sobs 
 broke forth from the overcharged heart, and Byrne and I 
 had enough to do to calm her preparatory to the interview. 
 When the time came I followed Lady Lytton downstairs 
 with Byrne to the door of the bedroom, which was open, 
 impressing on her the importance of keeping very quiet. 
 I had no need, however, to do so : the pitiful sight of this 
 young girl, without a relative near her, lying in a room 
 which was almost entirely taken up by the bedstead, which 
 stood nearly filling up the space between the door and the 
 window, was so startling that she remained for a time 
 speechless, as, almost transfixed, she gazed on the loved 
 form from which she had been so long separated ; lying 
 insensible, her features changed by fever, and hardly to be 
 recognised in the darkened room, where only the sheen 
 from her golden hair as it reflected the light of the single 
 candle guided the eye to the pillow and the sufterer. It 
 was thus, while Lady Lytton stood like a statue just inside 
 the room, that a knock was heard at the door; and lest she 
 should be discovered, Byrne and I hurried her upstairs. 
 The visitors were a Miss Greene (a nursery governess of 
 Lady Lytton's) and the present Earl of Lytton, a youth 
 about sixteen years of age, from Harrow. They came 
 to inquire about the patient, as they were not in the house. 
 My dear friend had thrown herself on her knees on reaching 
 the top room, and buried her face in the pillow of the 
 wretched bed in which she was to pass the night. No sobs 
 now, only convulsive throbbings of her whole frame, greatly 
 alarming us who were watching her ; but after a time she 
 became quiet, and I then took my leave, going home with 
 my servant, and promising to be there early in the morning. 
 " By ten o'clock I was there again, and found everything 
 had been discovered ! Dr. Rouse and Dr. Marshall Hall, 
 the other medical man (both of them are now dead — Dr. 
 Rouse soon after committed suicide), were commanded by 
 Sir Edward Lytton to get Lady Lytton out of the house 
 
244 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 on the plea that her presence had aggravated the disorder 
 (typhoid fever), which we afterwards discovered by our own 
 medical attendant was advancing to its last stage. Miss 
 Lytton had been delirious, and had spoken of her mother, 
 who had sat on the stairs outside the door all night, send- 
 ing to the room cooling beverages, and any things she had 
 with her which might be of service for her daughter ; for 
 Miss Lytton's wardrobe was so scanty that she actually 
 died in a nightdress lent her by the kind nurse, and which 
 was afterwards in my possession. 
 
 " Dr. Rouse knowing me, sent for me on my arrival in 
 Pelham Terrace ; and he and Dr. Marshall Hall tried to 
 intimidate me into making a promise to them that I would 
 take Lady Lytton away. 
 
 " I told them I should do what Lady Lytton wished, 
 that she had paid for her room for a week, and no one 
 could turn her out but the landlady. Thej declared that 
 Miss Lytton's life was endangered by the knowledge of her 
 mother's presence ! a most ridiculous assertion, as the poor 
 girl knew no one, being delirious when not wholly un- 
 conscious. 
 
 " Our interview ended by my telling them I would hear 
 what Lady Lytton herself said. Dr. Rouse followed me 
 upstairs immediately, and then Lady Lytton threw herself 
 on her knees to him, and implored him to let her stay to 
 the end. I had in a life, then quite young, seen many 
 stage representations of mental agony, but here was the 
 real anguish, and every phase of it is burnt into my 
 memory. 
 
 "Dr. Rouse himself would have given way, I saw, but he 
 dared not ; all he could do was to offer his carriage to take 
 us away. He retired, and then I pointed out to the poor 
 mother the risk she ran of misrepresentation that she had 
 caused the death of her daughter through excitement, and 
 further attempted to show that she would gain nothing by 
 remaining ; but in this I was wrong, and I have since 
 deeply regretted it : she should have stayed, and I with 
 her. 
 
 " However, I prevailed, on assuring her that I would go 
 
MRS. WHELAN'S narrative. 245 
 
 to Dr. Rouse and obtain his promise to send to my father's 
 house, or to come after every visit to his patient, that we 
 might have the latest intelligence of her condition. I must 
 now mention that the carriages of the two doctors were being 
 driven up and down the little street while this conference 
 was going on ; and we had ascertained that Miss Greene 
 lodged only two or three doors further, where the doctors 
 were then in consultation while I was persuading Lady 
 Lytton to return home with me. So I followed to the 
 house, and was admitted by Miss Greene, who, with two 
 men, completely blocked the small passage. ' Are the 
 doctors here who attend Miss Lytton ? ' I said. They 
 hurriedly answered, ' Yes,' and made way for me to pass. 
 
 " I entered the first room on the ground floor ; and there 
 sat Sir Edward Bulvver Lytton, Dr. Marshall Hall, and Dr. 
 Rouse, the latter looking most wretched. 
 
 " I had had the questionable advantage of meeting Sir 
 Edward Lytton in many distinguished houses, the owners 
 of which were good enough to invite me, and of course I 
 knew him ; but I addressed myself to the medical men, 
 and told them that 'Lady Lytton had consented to go with 
 me to my father Mr. Planche's house, but that I came to 
 hold Dr. Rouse to his promise.' Some remark, on my 
 saying this, fell from this tender husband and father, the 
 great novelist, dramatist, and poet ; and I answered it. 
 He kept his seat while I stood, but my reply intimated to 
 him that I knew him, and it is almost amusing to recollect 
 that he sent me an apology for not having risen : 'lie was so 
 distressed^ — for I never saw any one less so ; he was very 
 deaf, and I regret to say, I think he did not hear what I said, 
 for I had no feeling for him but of intense disgust, and he 
 saw it. I returned trembling with anxiety for the task 
 before me — the removal of this deeply injured innocent 
 woman, wife, mother. 
 
 " But I need not have doubted her power over herself (of 
 which I saw much more in after-days). God alone knows 
 the agony of that mother's heart as she walked quietly past 
 the closed door of the room where her poor dying girl was 
 so soon to breathe her last. 
 
246 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 " At ten o'clock I was obliged to accompany my father 
 to a soiree at Mrs. Milner Gibson's (leaving dear Lady 
 Lytton in my sister's care). I told them what had 
 happened during the day. * It was not possible,' people 
 said ; but it was not only possible, but true. Lady Lytton 
 sent an eminent fever physician. Dr. Tweedie, to see Miss 
 Lytton. His first words were, ' Too late, too late.' He 
 asked for port wine ; there was none in the house, and 
 some was procured from a tavern at the end of the street. 
 
 " On the following evening, Saturday, the 29th of April, 
 1848, this poor young lady died ; Dr. Rouse himself 
 coming to announce to me the sad intelligence. The 
 housekeeper from Knebworth was sent up to take posses- 
 sion of the body, which was conveyed to Knebworth and 
 buried there. 
 
 " In the papers appeared the following : — 
 
 " ' At Knebworth ' (mark the veracity of our Colonial 
 Secretary*), ' Emily Elizabeth, the only daughter of Edward 
 Bulwer Lytton.' 
 
 " I had the satisfaction of putting in the Morning Post, 
 and also the Britannia, a Sunday paper much read in 
 those days, the correction of this mistake : — 
 
 " ' On Saturday, the 29th of April, at a lodging in 
 Brompton, of typhoid fever, Emily Elizabeth, the only 
 daughter of Sir Edward and Lady Bulwer Lytton, aged 
 20.' 
 
 " Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton sent my father a challenge. 
 My father had many grand qualities, but a passage of arms 
 was not at all to his taste (for he fainted at the sight of 
 blood), so in reply he simply threatened to bind him over 
 to keep the peace. 
 
 " I have letters and papers to corroborate this account, 
 and passed the greater part of my time during three years, 
 until my marriage in 185 1, in Lady Lytton's company. 
 
 " Seldom has it been the fate of any one to be so 
 maligned and crushed as this woman; it was even said of 
 Lady Lytton that she did not love her children — this I 
 
 * Secretary of the Colonies 1858-9. 
 
LETTER TO UR. ROUSE. 247 
 
 most emphatically deny. I have good reason to know how 
 she loved her daughter, and, as to her son, she scarcely ever 
 spoke of him to me without tears, in the early days of our 
 acquaintance. 
 
 "Katherine Curteis Whelan. 
 ''September, 1883." 
 
 The followinp- letters relate to the same tragic 
 event : — 
 
 From Miss Planche to Dr. Rouse. 
 
 "St. Michael's Grove Lodge, April 2gth, 1S48. 
 
 " Dear Sir, — 
 
 " Not only am I always so agitated when I speak 
 to you upon this most grievous and unparalleled case 
 of poor Lady Lytton's that I can scarcely hope to ex- 
 press myself as concisely and collectedly as so urgent and 
 painful a subject requires, but as you also invariably cut 
 me short, I adopt this plan of explaining to you that, 
 natural and imperative as Lady Lytton's wishes were to 
 call in medical advice on her side for her poor child, now 
 lying in so critical a state, her friends would not con- 
 sent to her doing so till she had consulted one of her 
 legal advisers, Mr. Charles Hyde, upon the safety and 
 feasibility of such a measure. Mr. Hyde having substan- 
 tiated its perfect justice and propriety (especially under 
 Miss Lytton's extj^aordinary position in a shabby, half- 
 furnished lodging), Lady Lytton had resolved not to 
 lose a moment in sending Mr. Hyde to a medical man. 
 Lady Lytton saw perfectly the tendency of every move 
 made since her expulsion from the lodging in Pelham 
 Terrace yesterday. Sir Edward not being allowed to see 
 his daughter affords the plausible ultimate assertion that 
 Lady Lytton was not in fact more harshly dealt with as a 
 mother than he was as a father, though in any case there is 
 a wide difference between the feelings of a father and those 
 of a mother. All this plausibility Lady Lytton is perfectly 
 prepared for, as are her friends, for, as she says, ' Sir Edward 
 Bulwer \.y\XoviS facts are always made to order.' Though 
 
248 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 you must in truth and honour acknowledge, from the 
 extraordinary and almost incredible command of herself 
 that Lady Lytton had throughout that fearful night, that 
 she listened to her poor child's ravings unseen, unheard, 
 upon the stairs, her only design was to watch over her 
 silently and unobserved, deserted as she was in a paltry 
 lodging, with no other attendance but that of a hired nurse, 
 who, however good and conscientious a person she may be, 
 must certainly lack a mother's feelings. 
 
 " As Lady Lytton explained to you yesterday, had her 
 daughter's malady been any other than so high a state of 
 long-coming-on melancholy and nervous excitement, no 
 huniafi power should have prevented her establishing herself 
 openly at her child's bedside. 
 
 " I must beg of you not to destroy this letter, which, of 
 course, as a mail of honour, you will not do when I tell 
 you I have kept a copy of it. 
 
 " I have the honour to be, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 "Katherine Frances Planch^. 
 
 " To Dr. Rouse." 
 
 Miss Planche was acquainted with Dr. Rouse previously ; 
 he destroyed himself soon after. 
 
 The poor young lady died in the evening of the day this 
 letter was written. 
 
 Dr. Tweedie to Lady Lytton. 
 
 (Copied from his own note.) 
 "Montague Place, Bedford Square, May 18///, 1848. 
 
 " Dr. Tweedie presents his compliments to Lady Bulwer 
 Lytton. In acknowledging her kind note, Dr. Tweedie 
 begs to express his deep sympathy with Lady Lytton on 
 the cause of her recent affliction, and his sincere regret that 
 at the time he saw her daughter medical aid could not 
 possibly be of the slightest service in averting the fatal 
 issue of the malady. 
 
 " There is one consolation — small indeed — that the last 
 moments, or rather the last few hours, were passed without 
 
LETTER TO MISS PLANCH^. 249 
 
 apparent suffering. As Lady Lytton has alluded to Dr. 
 Tweedie not having received the usual fee for consultation 
 with Dr. Hall and Mr. Rouse, he begs to name the most 
 moderate sum for consultation — two guineas." 
 
 Lady Lytton to Miss Planch^:. 
 
 "Tower, Thursday Evening, Seven o'Clock, 
 "A/ay i8(/i, 1848. 
 
 "My Poor Little Victim of a Kate, — 
 
 " Here am I boring you again to-day, but it is 
 your own fault for having constituted yourself my rudder, 
 chart, and anchor ; and who else to turn to in all my 
 difficulties I know not. Here is my present one. I /lave 
 just received the enclosed from Dr. Tweedie, and all I 
 possess in the world till July is ^i Ss., so what to do I 
 know not, unless you can beg or borrow me a guinea till 
 I see you, and then I will see what more I can sell, though 
 really it seems to me that I have nothing left. In the hope 
 that you will be able to do so, as you have achieved so 
 many greater things in my troublesome behalf, I send you 
 one guinea towards Dr. Tweedie's fee ; and if you can get 
 the other, will you have the kindness to write three lines to 
 Dr. Tweedie, expressing my thanks to him, and saying 
 (which God knows is true) that being too ill to write to 
 him myself, I have begged you to do so, and enclose him 
 the two guineas (with many regrets that it is not more), 
 and take it or get some sure person to leave the note and 
 its enclosure at his house. Forgive all this trouble, mine 
 own darling Kate, as well as every other I have given you ; 
 and believe that had our positions been reversed (which 
 God forbid !), I would with heart, soul, head, and hands do 
 as much for you. I fear you will hardly be able to make 
 this out, but the night is coming on ; for that matter, it is 
 in my heart and eyes all day long. God bless you. 
 "Ever your grateful and affectionate 
 
 " ROSINA BULWER LYTTON." 
 
 The generosity of Sir Edward Lytton in leaving 
 
2 50 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 his wife to pay Dr. Tweedie's fee needs no 
 comment. 
 
 Lady Lytton to Dr. Marshall Hall. 
 
 ^^ July iTth, 1848. 
 
 "Sir,— 
 
 " Now that I am able to hold a pen, painful as it 
 is to me to have any sort of communication with you, yet, 
 as I understand that Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton (that 
 incarnate lie of the nineteenth century) dares to give out 
 that my poor angel child died of 'a natural decay,' you, 
 as his accomplice in the last act of this at once awful and 
 disgraceful tragedy, had better warn him to drop this cold- 
 blooded falsehood, or I have friends and WITNESSES who 
 are determined to make the TRUTH public, which is that 
 the primary cause of my poor vmrdered child's illness was 
 the life of hard labour she led to promote her father's ill- 
 gotten and quacky literary reputation as a German scholar 
 {he not knowing one ivord of that language), coupled with 
 the terrific seclusion and privations of every sort that she 
 endured. Witness her dying without the commonest neces- 
 saries of a sick-room about her, as even the wine poured 
 down her throat (alas ! too late) had to be sent for from 
 a common public-house ! 
 
 " The actual cause of her death was your gross ignorance, 
 only to be equalled by the coarse and inhuman brutality of 
 your manner. I shall ever look upon you and proclaim 
 you as her murderer, for when this poor young victim of 
 the parsimony and neglect of a profligate father, and the 
 ignorance of a medical charlatan, was rapidly sinking 
 under TYPHUS, did you not starve and bleed her as if for 
 nervous fever, and so ensure and hasten her death .-• 
 
 " Remember, both you and your employer, that there 
 are too many witnesses to all this for your or his falsehoods 
 on the subject to avail. God forgive you both, but I never 
 can. 
 
 " RosiNA Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 " I am aware that he tries to excuse the miserable hole 
 
LETTER FROM MISS LYTTON'S XURSE. 25 I 
 
 in which she died by giving- out that she was on a visit to 
 a German baroness. But was it right to let this poor 
 young girl, without even a maid of her own, trapese about 
 with German baronesses who lived in lodgings at thirty 
 shillings a week, and where a commercial clerk was pacing 
 up and down all night in the garret overhead ? " 
 
 "This inhuman creature pretended that my child's life 
 was at stake if I did not leave the house. In vain I swore 
 she should never know I was there, 7ior did she. He said 
 his fame as a physician was at stake. ' Which,* said I, ' is 
 of the most import, j^//r fame as a physician or wj/ feelings 
 as a mother .'* ' ' Oh, my fame as a doctor, to be sure,' 
 said he, with a horse-laugh." 
 
 Extract from Letter of Mrs. Bruce, the Nurse at 
 THE time of Lady Lytton's Poor Daughter's Death. 
 
 ^^ December I'-^th, 1849. 
 
 "Most Honoured Lady, — • 
 
 " I cannot find words to express my grateful 
 thanks for your Ladyship's benevolence. Bad and base 
 a man as Sir Edward is, people are not aware of all his 
 villainy to you. Many highly respectable families have 
 heard much from me, amiable lady. Mr. Rouse made out 
 that he was one of the best of men and fathers, and that he 
 had a medical man in the house all the time your angel 
 daughter was ill of a night ; but I soon contradicted that 
 falsehood, and was believed before Mr. Rouse. I informed 
 Sir Edward that she spoke of you in the most dutiful manner, 
 saying, ' Oh, my mamma ! I reverence my DEAR mamma.' 
 He cannot deny it. I hope those words will be a comfort 
 to your Ladyship, knowing that you have an angel to watch 
 over you, who, I am convinced, really loved you, but dared 
 not make it public. 
 
 "Charlotte Bruce." 
 The record of the next few years of Lady 
 
252 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Lytton's life, during which nothing of special import- 
 ance occurred, is as follows : — 
 
 Soon after the events narrated above, she left the 
 Tower and lived until 1851 in apartments at 97, 
 Sloane Street. In 1852 she moved to a cottage in 
 the Fulham Road. In 1853 she went to Llangollen. 
 In 1855 •''^^ l^ft for Taunton, where she resided 
 until her husband's death in 1873. But during this 
 last period many things happened which must be 
 detailed at some length. 
 
 I here insert a letter relating to her literary 
 labours. 
 
 From Lady Lytton to Mr. Shoberl, 
 THE Publisher. 
 
 "97, Sloane Street, Cadogan Place, Chelsea, 
 "■January loth, 1 85 1. 
 
 "Dear Sir,— 
 
 " As there is nothing like a perfectly clear under- 
 standing in all matters of business, I trouble you with these 
 few lines, that I may ascertain from you whether I am 
 correct in considering that the arrangement between you 
 and me for my new novel of ' Miriam Sedley ' is as 
 follows, viz., that yon are to defray all the expenses of 
 printing, publishing, and advertising, and that / am to give 
 you £\0 per cent, upon every ;^I00 I receive from you of 
 the profits on the sale of the work, or £^ on every ;^50. 
 Never having before published a book on these terms, I am 
 doubly anxious to clearly understand them ; for, as I before 
 told you, nothing but the terrible want of money induces 
 me to write, and therefore I could not afford to incur £$ 
 expense. This arrangement is to me a most woeful falling 
 off after receiving in days of yore ^600, ;^500, and ;£'400 
 for infinitely worse books than the one now in your hands. 
 The very least poor Mr. Bull ever gave me for the worst 
 book I ever wrote was ;!^300 down on receipt of the MSS. 
 I am well aware that those palmy days are gone ; but I am 
 
LETTER TO MR. SHOBERL. 253 
 
 also perfectly aware that my books are a very good specu- 
 lation to any publisher, as the name alone sells them, and 
 they have a certain sale in the provinces of the three 
 kingdoms, and a great one in America, which, being to 
 a certain degree reputation, ought in some measure at least 
 to be profit. 
 
 " Awaiting an early reply, 
 
 " I remain, dear Sir, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 "ROSINA BULWER LYTTON." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CONTINUED PERSECUTION. LETTERS TO DR. PRICE. 
 
 The next few years of Lady Lytton's life contain 
 nothing but a record of privations and persecutions, 
 which culminated in the extraordinary madhouse 
 conspiracy of 1858. Of the events which preceded 
 that remarkable episode I propose to give but a very 
 brief outline. In 1852 Lady Lytton was living in 
 a small cottage in the Fulham Road. The repeated 
 efforts of herself and her friends to obtain a more 
 adequate allowance from Sir Edward had resulted in 
 complete failure, and she was consequently even 
 more embarrassed than she had ever been pre- 
 viously.* 
 
 " I had not a farthing," she writes, " till a publisher of 
 the name of Shoberl's bills for between ^^400 and ^500 
 became due, but at the end of that year Shoberl failed, and 
 I did not get a penny ! I really felt stunned, or rather 
 crushed. I was for four months trying to let my cottage and 
 as ineffectually trying to borrow money. At length a good 
 Samaritan on the Stock Exchange, a stranger of course, 
 
 * The result of these efforts may be guessed from the following 
 extract from the preface to "The School for Husbands," published 
 by Lady Lytton in 1852 : — " For although about a year ago I received 
 the munificent offer of an additional ;^ioo a year if I would give up 
 certain letters in my possession, and live out of England, much 
 as I have suffered in this land, I preferred remaining in it and 
 living down the whole clique to acceding to this additional outrage." 
 — L. D. 
 
AN OUTRAGE AT LLANGOLLEN. 255 
 
 said he had heard such a good character of my honesty 
 from my creditors, that he most humanely and generously 
 lent me ;,r 1,000 at five per cent, for ten years, I paying 
 back ^100 a year of the principal, and insuring both my 
 tyrant's and my own life. With this drain on my already 
 miserable pittance, I could not stay in London. My friends, 
 to aid me in economising, asked me to go on visits to them, 
 so I went first to Lady Hotham at Brighton and then to 
 other friends there ; but I soon found out that there is 
 nothing so expensive as visiting in great houses, so, after 
 a short trip to Paris with Lady Hotham, I went to bury 
 myself in the little Welsh village of Llangollen." 
 
 It was at Llangollen in 1854 that an extraordinary 
 attempt was made, if not to poison Lady Lytton, at 
 all events seriously to injure her health. 
 
 " A vulgar old woman, calling herself Mrs. P , came 
 
 down with her daughter to the village inn. She scraped an 
 acquaintance with me, and obtruded herself upon me at all 
 hours, at breakfast, dinner, and in my bedroom before I 
 was up of a morning. One day before I came into the 
 dining-room she had helped me to soup. I found her with 
 her bonnet on, and before I had time to eat the soup she 
 pretended she had had a sudden summons to London and 
 was off. I had scarcely eaten the soup before I was seized 
 with the most agonising pains and violent retchings ; my 
 doctor gave me antidotes, and said that some attempt had 
 been made to poison me, but the dose had not been 
 sufficient. This seemed to be confirmed by my getting, 
 about three weeks later, the following letter from Mrs. 
 
 P :— 
 
 " ' Hotel de Provence, December 2.1th, 1853. 
 
 " ' Dear Lady L , 
 
 " ' I am about to leave for Paris. I have lost my son, 
 and my daughter her baby. Pity me. PRAY be on your 
 GUARD, as a person will be sent down with a dog to attract 
 you. Her name will begin with a G. Mind, I will come 
 
256 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 to you to sooth my hevvy sorrows. Pray be 011 your guard. 
 Believe, I would not harm you in the least. Saying 
 good-bye, 
 
 " ' Pity me, and believe, 
 
 " ' Ever yoxxv friend, 
 
 " * T P 
 
 " * God bless you.' 
 
 "About ten days after this Brellisford, the waitress, came 
 to me and said that an old woman, looking like a house- 
 keeper, had just arrived from the station to take apart- 
 ments for ' her young lady, a Miss Getting.' " 
 
 This person duly took up her quarters at the inn, 
 accompanied by the dog, but her efforts to make 
 Lady Lytton's acquaintance naturally failed, and she 
 v^^as compelled to leave without effecting her object. 
 With reference to this Miss Getting, a gentleman 
 wrote from Brighton : 
 
 " I went to the party I spoke of last night ; and, sure 
 
 enough, the Miss G who I met there was the sister of 
 
 the Llangollen lady. They are both intimate friends of 
 
 Sir L. B 's. Miss G spoke of Lady L as being 
 
 perfectly insane, and also very seriously ill in her bodily 
 health." 
 
 " She was scarcely gone," writes Lady Lytton, " when I 
 got letters from London, imploring me to be on my 
 guard, as these Gettings lived at Brighton, and the one sent 
 to Llangollen had a carriage always ready on the road in 
 order, if I could be found out walking, to kidnap me and 
 carry me off to a madhouse, as Sir Edward was giving out 
 all over London that I was quite mad. The summer after 
 this (1854) I left the hotel, and went into lodgings in a 
 small but nicely furnished house, of which I took the whole 
 except the parlours, which, as the woman only asked 
 twenty-five shillings a week for them, I told her on no 
 account to let to any one, but if she had an offer to do so, I 
 would pay her for them rather than have any other lodger in 
 
MRS. B 'S AMENITIES, 257 
 
 the house after all I had suffered. But when I had been there 
 about three weeks, to my great indignation she informed 
 me that she had let her parlours to a lady and gentleman, 
 who had given her two guineas a week for them. I have 
 since heard upon indisputable authority that this Mr. and 
 
 Mrs. B were always with Sir Edward at Knebworth 
 
 and Ventnor and elsewhere. 
 
 " A few evenings after, the evening being sultry, I was 
 obliged to leave my drawing-room door slightly ajar, when, 
 to my horror, who should come tripping in, with a basket 
 
 of strawberries, but Mrs. B , dressed, or rather undressed, 
 
 to a pitch that would have alarmed even an art-student ! 
 She made me a sort of theatrical speech, in which she 
 introduced herself and her strawberries. I never eat 
 strawberries ; and in the absence of Wenham Lake ice, my 
 reception of her must have been most refreshing or rather 
 refrigerating ! Nothing daunted, this woman spread her 
 furbelows, and, uninvited, seated herself; and seeing her 
 husband creeping up the stairs, she had the crowning 
 impertinence to call him in and introduce him to me, I 
 visibly petrifying the while, and darting into my bedroom, 
 locked the door. The next day came a note from Mrs. 
 
 B , expressing her great sympathy with all I had 
 
 suffered, and as the cuisine was not particularly good at 
 those lodgings, would I do them the favour of dining 
 with them at the hotel .-' I sent down a verbal message to 
 say I never dined out. The next day the pair took their 
 departure for London, but the people of the house became 
 suddenly and unbearably insolent, and although I had 
 taken the rooms for six months certain, said I must leave 
 them immediately, as they had let them. This was 
 pleasant, for lodgings are difficult to get at Llangollen ; 
 and, worse than that, it wanted six weeks to the time I 
 should receive my parish allowance, and also to the time 
 when the two months' rent of my cottage would become 
 due. I had not a sou wherewith to meet this sudden and 
 unfair demand in the teeth of a written agreement. But my 
 kind old friend, Dr. Price, not only came to the rescue, 
 rating these vile people soundly, and telling them they 
 
 17 
 
25 8 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 would repent their shameful conduct before they were 
 much older (vvliich they did), but he kindly got me another 
 lodging, higher up, on the same road, in which I had not 
 been installed a week, when Dr. Price wrote to me saying 
 
 that horrid woman Mrs. B and a woman she called 
 
 her maid were in my old lodgings. I put on my bonnet, 
 and went out to pass the house, and what should I see but 
 
 Mrs. B and her soi-disant maid sitting on the sill of the 
 
 open drawing-room window, with a salver between them, 
 with two decanters of wine on it, and glasses in their hands, 
 over which they were laughing and singing ! and as soon as 
 they saw me they set up a perfect shout. Two nights after 
 this the lady and her maid were literally drummed out of 
 the place for roaring and screaming about the streets with 
 men at between one and two in the morning, and disturbing 
 the quiet village. I, of course, could not stay in a place 
 where I had been so outraged and persecuted ; and then it 
 was that I wrote to a friend to engage me rooms in an 
 hotel at Taunton, kept by Mrs. Clarke." 
 
 On this occasion Lady Lytton contrived for a 
 time to elude the vigilance of her persecutors, as 
 appears from the following letter written by her to 
 Mr. A. E. Chalon :— 
 
 "Dear Mr. Chalon, — 
 
 " I don't know if I ever told you that when I made 
 my escape from Llangollen and came here Sir Edward 
 was perfectly rabid at his and his bloodhounds having lost 
 my track. So well had I managed it, that all the wretches 
 there thought I was gone to London, as I had had all my 
 luggage forwarded to a friend in Hyde Park Terrace, and 
 sent on here after, so that when my parish allowance be- 
 came due, he and Loaden thought themselves very clever 
 in saying they would not pay it till they had a clergyman's 
 certificate of the place I was in, and of my existence ! My 
 dear good old lion Hyde said he should have a better 
 
LETTER TO MR. CHALON. 259 
 
 proof of my existence than tJiat, as he, Hyde, would ac- 
 company me to Knebvvorth, and see me properly installed 
 there, which, of course, brought the reptile instantly to his 
 senses ; but as I was determined not to endure this infamy 
 every time, and as poor Mr. Hodgson, though an excellent 
 man, is a sort of legal Admiral Dundas, I determined to 
 take the matter in hand myself, more especially as the 
 spies were reappearing on the horizon. About a week 
 before my last parish allowance became due, a creature 
 calling herself Miss Henna (why not Henbane at once .>') 
 wrote to request an interview with me ; that is the way 
 they generally begin ; but by her coming in the dusk of 
 the evening, in a pouring rain, and refusing to say what 
 her business was, and being so very urgent to see me, only 
 to see me, Mrs, Clarke told her, without mincing the matter, 
 
 that she firmly believed her to be one of Sir E 's spies, 
 
 and that therefore she might go back and tell him, after 
 being hunted to death by his infamous emissaries, I saw no 
 one not especially recommended to me, but that no doubt 
 he would be delighted to hear that I had not been so 
 well for years, and was going abroad in a day or two. 
 ' Miss Henna ' then, by way of establishing her respect- 
 ability, said she was a governess. ' Oh ! very likely,' said 
 Mrs. Clarke; 'I understand most of that vile man's mis- 
 tresses are, and they afterwards fill the equally honourable 
 office of his spies. Pray, where are you staying in Taun- 
 ton 1 ' She then got very red, stammered very much, and 
 named some doctor living near Trinity Church (two miles 
 from this). ' Oh ! indeed ! ' said Mrs. Clarke, 'but it hap- 
 pens rather unfortunately that there is ?io doctor of law, 
 physic, or divinity of f/iat name in Taunton, so the sooner 
 you return to your employer the better.' Mrs. Clarke 
 sent a policeman to watch her, and she decamped by the 
 next London train, and Mr. Oakly, the governor of the 
 gaol, made every inquiry, and no one of the name of 
 ' Henna' nor answering her description was known at the 
 post-office or in the town." 
 
 About this time Lady Lytton was persuaded into 
 
26o LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 sending a statement of her case to Lord Lyndhurst, 
 but her papers were lost under mysterious and sus- 
 picious circumstances,* and her appeal resulted, as 
 usual, in nothing. I pass on to the early part of 
 1857, when Lady Lytton was still at Mrs. Clarke's, 
 the Giles Castle Hotel, Taunton. The following 
 letters to Dr. Price explain her situation at that 
 period. The book referred to was " Very Success- 
 ful." 
 
 "Mrs. Clarke's, at Giles Castle Hotel, Taunton, 
 
 " Tuesday, 'January \y:h, 1 85 7. 
 
 "My dearest and kindest Dr. Price, — 
 
 "Thank you a thousand times for the News of the 
 World just received, which pleases me, not for its 
 praise, but for its honesty. Oh, dear Dr. Price, I care 
 not, I assure you, one straw for all the bought abuse 
 of that venal and infamous pressgang, further than 
 that as it has crushed my poor book and effectually 
 ruined poor me, for this dark, cold, bitter morning I 
 know not, in God's name, which way to turn from 
 the fearful ruin that has snared, and now compasses 
 me as a net. Poor Miss Dickenson, who so kindly lent 
 me that ;^400 for the Geneva infamy, being now by a 
 swindling banker ruined herself, has for the last three 
 months been pressing for the payment of the principal, 
 the interest of which, with the interest of Mr. Wheeler's 
 money, has, as you know, added to the additional infamy 
 at Llangollen, exhausted my beggarly pittance, which, if 
 I had it even intact, is not enough for bread and salt. 
 Added to this, there is the ;:^ioo borrowed for this wretched 
 book and Mrs. Clarke's bill, while Mr. Hodgson, with 
 intended kindness, but real cruelty, has borrowed another 
 £2^ from dear Mr. Wheeler to get my things out of the 
 Pantechnicon, and packed them down here, where I have 
 
 * General Thompson demanded an inquiry in the House of 
 Commons into this affair, but nothing came of it. 
 
LITERARY TROUBLES. 26 I 
 
 not even standing room for them, and the carriage alone 
 has cost me £^ i6s. Now this poor book, without 
 any great success, ought, had it been dealt with honestly, 
 to have realised me by this time £700, and floated me 
 out of all this, instead of which, owing to the unparalleled 
 infamy with which I am so effectually compassed on 
 all sides, it has only added another mountain of mill- 
 stones to crush me ; and that is what it is done for. And 
 I have no, nor indeed any, defence equal to the attack. 
 You will see by the enclosed letter from Mudie that my 
 last ghost of a hope has now failed me, for (under all 
 the circumstances) returning to Skeet, as he recommends, 
 would be the worst sort of financial suicide. The only 
 thing that could be done for me, which I fear you nor 
 no one else would do, would be to open a public subscrip- 
 tion for me to sell my book with my name, and stating the 
 full particulars of what had caused it, I have long deprived 
 myself of the commonest comforts of life, and worked day 
 and night, like fifty slaves, and all, all, no use. As fast as 
 I fill my poor buckets, that fiend comes and kicks them 
 down, and I have not a single hand to help me to refill 
 them. If any one to-morrow was willing to lend me this 
 ;^500, I could not borrow it, having now no means of 
 paying it. It has been this cruel borrowing for sixteen 
 years, with this fiend ever preventing my earning an honest 
 independence, while others make fortunes out of the 
 veriest trash, and he has become rich on his demoralising 
 obscenity, which has at length ground me down into this 
 utter ruin. I am now quite prostrate, body and mind, the 
 blood gushing out like a fountain every cough I have. It 
 is to be hoped it will please God to have mercy on me at 
 last and take me, but I should be sorry to leave the world 
 as a swindler ; and poor kind Miss Dickenson, and my 
 friend's ;^I00 — oh ! it is too, too much. DO, dear Dr. 
 Price, throw convcjitionality to the winds, and try and get 
 up this PUBLIC SUBSCRIPTION for me, or could your young 
 printer recommend a publisher who would undertake the 
 London agency of the book .-* For return to Skeet, you 
 know I could not, I did not calculate on paying Miss 
 
2 62 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Dickenson the whole ^^400, only half, and the next book 
 the other half; but this infamy has effectually ruined me. 
 I hope you got my letter of yesterday with the bank post 
 bill. God ever bless you, dear kind friend, will be the last 
 prayer of your grateful and affectionate 
 
 "R. B. Lytton." 
 
 "Giles Castle Hotel, Taunton, 
 
 " Wednesday Aight, January 2%th, 1857. 
 
 "My dearest Dr. Price, — 
 
 " As every day I grow weaker and weaker, and every 
 day some fresh agony supervenes, I will try and scrawl 
 you these few lines to-night (though I cannot send them 
 till to-morrow), while they are making my bed. The plot 
 thickens, and that fiend Sir Liar's game is evidently to 
 defame my book, so as to prevent my finding a publisher, 
 so that the following is the infamous advertisement he 
 is getting inserted in all the papers throughout the country : 
 ' The eminent publishers Messrs. Whittaker, of Ave Maria 
 Lane, have repudiated all connection with Lady Bulwer 
 Lytton's " Very Successful," t/mtniost disgracefulxNorV.! Now, 
 of course, any other woman — that is, any woman with a 
 farthing in her pocket — could bring an action for defama- 
 tion, and obtain swinging damages, and lauyers would 
 be only too glad of such a case ; but as it is, / being a 
 pauper, and most Englishmen naturally toadies and 
 cowards respecting the powers that be when there is 
 no pecuniary advantage to be gained by courage and 
 honesty, I have, of course, no earthly chance, now that 
 I am so effectually trampled down in a corner, but that 
 of being quietly stabbed to death in cold blood by these 
 hired tools of that cowardly brute Sir Liar. This 
 morning came a letter from Mudie saying he mu.-,t 
 return the second hundred of my book, as the Whittakers 
 would not let him have the plates. So, you see, the con- 
 spiracy is to effectually destroy the sale of the book, so as 
 to utterly ruin and disgrace me ; and I have no one of 
 sufficient energy and generosity to even make a shoio 
 (though it were but a sham) of making head against this 
 
"VERY SUCCESSFUL." 263 
 
 infamy, which might be done by putting an advertisement 
 in the Ti;nes, headed 'Notice' — and borrowing their o'm/i 
 zvord — ' Notice. — From the very disgraceful means that 
 liave been resorted to to suppress Lady Bulwer Lytton's 
 "Very Successful," the remaining copies of the edition 
 are selling at £^ a copy.' And I'm very certain such 
 a notice would fulfil its own statement, and worry that 
 wretch by foiling him at his own weapons {i.e., a lie 
 and a puff) more than anything ; and an advertisement 
 they can't refuse to put in. To-day, in my agony, I got 
 
 up and sent for Mr. E to go to London to see Mr. Hyde, 
 
 and one more person, who, if he can be found, perJiaps may 
 stretch out a hand to save me by getting these infamous 
 facts properly before the public. But I have no hopes, 
 for if I were dying, as I trust and believe I am, all people 
 can ever manage to do for me is to bother me to help 
 myself, which, were I able to do, I should not trouble 
 
 them. Then Mr. E , as he says himself, is worse than 
 
 ignorant in all publishing matters, and fears he may do 
 more harm than good (no doubt) ; and if even a publisher 
 could be found, still it would take at least a week to 
 negotiate so complex a matter properly, and find an honest 
 and spirited publisher that would make the enterprise his 
 own interest, and turn the whole of this conspiracy to the 
 advantage of the book as a spur to its sale, which 
 properly managed it would be ; but who will so act for 
 a beggar against a rich influential villain .'' And Mr. 
 
 E can only stay one day in London ; and even 
 
 catching at this, I fear, useless straw is for me as 
 ruinous in expense as it would be in life to open an 
 artery and let the last drop of my blood drain out. Each 
 day my miserable fate is hanging on some new thread, 
 which snaps the next and plunges me into a more fearful 
 abyss than before. The strength of a Hercules would fail 
 under such prolonged and ever increasing torture. But 
 one thing could help or save me, and enable me to baffle 
 my remorseless and unscrupulous enemy ; and that I have 
 no more power of obtaining than I have of snatching one 
 of the stars out of the heavens. If Mr. E returns, as I 
 
264 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 fully expect he will, with a shake of the head and a ' No 
 use ! he was not in town, and would not be till next week,' 
 then all I pray is that they will let me die quietly, for more 
 talk I cannot stand ; and when it is known that I have 
 no channel through which to sell my book, and conse- 
 quently no earthly means of meeting my cruel and heavy 
 liabilities, what can I do but die? Forgive me, dearest 
 Dr. Price, for afflicting your kind heart all this time, but 
 you kindly wish me to write nothing else. God bless you, 
 and now good-night. I'll not close my letter till to- 
 morrow (Thursday). If, dearest Dr. Price, Mr, E brings 
 
 me any good news (.?), you shall hear from me by Monday; 
 but if not, as I fully expect, then indeed I cannot write, 
 for my ruin will be too fully accomplished, and this will 
 be the second murder Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton has 
 achieved, for his poor young victim daughter could not 
 weather it so long as her more inured mother. If it 
 was merely the failure and dastardly lies and abuse of this 
 poor book, it would not weigh with me a moment, nor 
 even were it the heavy expenses I have incurred for it 
 would tJiey trouble me, as Clarke's claims against me could 
 not trouble me, after the manner in which he and those 
 Whittakers treated me ; but there is my poor friend's 
 iJ^iOO, poor Miss Dickenson's money, and Mrs. Clarke's 
 bill, and not one shilling to meet all this. As I before said, 
 with honesty, intelligence, energy, zeal, and a proper indig- 
 nation to expose such villainy, it might be all turned to 
 account, and made the means of putting me effectually 
 in a better and safer position than I have ever been in ; 
 but with only new and insignificant hirelings to fight the 
 battle, and, as they know, not the means of adequately 
 paying their hire, what earthly chance have / f God bless 
 you, dearest Dr. Price. Give my best love to dear Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wheeler ; thank them for all their kindness to me. 
 And if this should be the last letter you receive from me, 
 pray believe that to the last moment of my miserable and 
 cruelly tortured existence I shall never cease to be 
 " Your grateful and affectionate, and also theirs, 
 
 " RosiNA Bulwer Lytton." 
 
DEATH OF AN AUNT. 265 
 
 Other extracts from this correspondence further 
 illustrate the unfortunate lady's struggles and painful 
 embarrassments. 
 
 ^^ March i^th. 
 
 "What strange crotchet have you got into your dear 
 kind head of my having sold the first thousand copies of 
 my poor doomed book, when I wrote you word that the 
 remaining six hundred copies so cruelly thrown back on 
 my hands I had in vain tried to bring out as a second 
 edition, Sir Edward having threatened every pubUsher 
 with an injunction and so effectually prevented my getting 
 one } I have literally not one penny piece upon earth. In 
 April I shall owe poor Mrs. Clarke, who has been most 
 kind and Christian to wait so long, a nine months' hotel 
 bill, and there is poor Miss Dickenson clamouring for her 
 long-owing ;^400, which was to have been paid out of this 
 poor strangled book in February. ... I am in mourning, 
 so far as a sheet of black-edged paper goes — other I cannot 
 afford — for a poor aunt of mine, my mother's sister. Though 
 an old maid, she was another victim to the grasping selfish- 
 ness of man, her spendthrift brother having run through 
 three large fortunes, got every shilling out of his poor 
 sister, speculated and lost it, then died and left her in her 
 old age, desolate and penniless, on the world. She had 
 been very good and kind to me as a child, and I could not 
 let her want necessaries in her declining days, so my 
 miserable pittance has been still further curtailed this year ; 
 hence my arrears to Mrs. Clarke. On the i8th of last 
 month it pleased God to remove her to where there is 
 neither sorrow, nor age, nor death. She wished, poor soul, 
 to see me before she died ; but had I not been myself 
 stretched on a sick-bed, I had not a penny to go to London 
 with, any more than I can pay her memory the respect of 
 putting on mourning, for feelings are luxuries that beggars 
 have no business to indulge in. I think you will own that 
 my cup of misery has more than overflowed this year, but 
 God's will be done." 
 
266 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 "March T,lst, 1857. 
 
 "At length I send you the only thing left for me 
 to do : my appeal to public charity, which ought to 
 have been ready three weeks ago. . . . This pamphlet 
 is now making the tour of Europe, America, the colonies, 
 and the Indies. I have sent it to the members of both 
 Houses of Parliament, the mayors of every town, the 
 magistrates of all the metropolitan police-offices, heads of 
 colleges, all the clubs, and am trying to get copies of 
 it sold at different libraries. Of course I have sent it to all 
 my fashionable acquaintances of the haute volee, who may 
 perhaps give a guinea and a half from their superfluous 
 thousands out of curiosity. At all events, if they do not, 
 I have nothing to do but beg my bread about the streets."* 
 
 "April SM, 1857. 
 
 " Ten thousand thanks, my dearest and kindest Dr. 
 Price, but no earthly power would induce me to borrow 
 now another sixpence from any human being, as I 
 have no certainty, or even chance, of being able to 
 repay it ; and, as I am not a swindler, ready to supply 
 my own wants on any terms, why should I accept what 
 I cannot repay, and more especially from yoii ? But, with 
 my whole heart, I thank you all the same for your great 
 and constant kindness. , , . This is the third quarter I 
 shall owe poor kind Mrs. Clarke, which will be £'j^, and 
 my parish allowance is £47, even if I get it, which, now 
 poor kind Mr. Hodgson is gone, I fully expect I shall not. 
 But God's hand is so heavy upon me that I no longer kick 
 against the pricks. . . , Oh, the bitter, bitter curse of 
 being penniless ! To do me any good I ought to be able 
 to get ten thousand of these pamphlets circulated, and this 
 I cannot afford." 
 
 "April 15M, 1857. 
 
 " I have received a great many orders for the pam- 
 phlet, for that gratifies curiosity, and only costs a shilling, 
 but only three orders for the book, one from kind 
 
 * For Lady Lytton's ," Appeal to the Justice and Charity of the 
 English People," see Appendix I. 
 
THE "APPEAL." 26"] 
 
 Lady Boynton at Brighton, upon whom I had certainly 
 no claim ; so I returned the post-office order, and sent 
 her the book, but she again sent it back to me in so kind 
 a manner that I could not refuse, without being ungracious, 
 to keep it. Thank you, dear Dr. Price, for your kind advice 
 about going out ; but, like all other advice that I get (of which 
 I get plenty and to spare), I have not the means of following 
 it, as it is now nearly seven months since I have set my 
 foot outside the door, and have, had I the strength, neither 
 boots nor shoes to go out in, and every driblet I get for 
 my book, or even for that pamphlet, I feel, in common 
 honesty, bound to appropriate to paying what I owe, as 
 far as it goes. However, I hope soon to have a nice long 
 drive in my hearse, which, as Curran said, is the carriage 
 after all ! " 
 
 " April 2'i(h. 
 
 " Lazarus being raised from the dead was scarcely 
 more miraculous than the number of persons this pam- 
 phlet seems to have raised up who have heretofore 
 appeared to have forgotten my existence, but not one 
 from the Gold Coast yet." 
 
 ^' Aitgtist bth. 
 
 " Pray take every care of yourself, and do let me have 
 one line as soon as you receive this to tell me, as I 
 sincerely hope, that you have quite recovered from the 
 effects of your last severe attack. As for my miserable 
 affairs, while they are, like Mahomet's coffin, suspended 
 between heaven and earth, you may guess the fearful wear 
 and tear this suspense is to me. Good Mr. Ironside* is 
 more sanguine every day, but twenty years of attested 
 evidence against that monster is not to be collected in a 
 day ; meanwhile you may guess what I am suffering, 
 without literally a penny piece in the world. My appeal 
 to public charity brought me, besides the sale of the 
 pamphlet, which went to pay its expenses and advertise- 
 ments, £']o from seven good Samaritans, who each sent me 
 
 * Mr. Ironside was the publisher of Lady Lytton's " Appeal," 
 and befriended her in many other ways. 
 
2 68 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 a iJ^io note for one copy of my book, but all this has 
 already gone in preliminary law expenses. You may 
 imagine how all these ceaseless pecuniary drains and 
 difificulties prey upon me body and soul, but I have no 
 right to torment you with them, nor would I but that you 
 so kindly ask me to tell you of my affairs, which is only 
 another word for my miseries." 
 
 To Mrs. Jermyn. 
 
 "September llf/i, 1857. 
 
 *' How very kind you are to take such trouble to dis- 
 seminate my 'Appeal.' I have written to Mr, Ironside to 
 forward you another dozen. Alas I they have been able to 
 do nothing with that shuffling, lying monster, and I told 
 them from the first they would do nothing by temporising 
 gentlemanlike measures but achieve the work of cruel 
 supererogation of prolonging my already insupportable 
 trials and tortures. So now the plan is, as soon as this 
 complicated Divorce Bill becomes law, to sue the wretch 
 in the Ecclesiastical Court. ... I deeply regret that I 
 was not allowed to have my way seven months ago, when 
 the wretch sealed my ruin by burking my last book, of 
 organising a public penny subscription all over England, 
 which would have effectually exposed him, and, I feel sure, 
 would have rescued me out of this terrible Slough of 
 Despond before this. ... I cannot eat, and am nearly 
 mad from total want of sleep, for if hope deferred maketh 
 the heart sick, despair prolonged maketh it mad." 
 
 To Mrs. Jermyn. 
 
 " September 2W1, 1857. 
 
 " Among the innumerable unthinking things poor Mr. 
 Ironside has done to make me wince was his writing to 
 yoii about forming a chimera committee ; did he ever 
 trouble to consider or consult my feelings, he might have 
 known that this spurring a willing horse to death would 
 have pained and annoyed me, but, poor man, though full 
 of the kindest and noblest impulses, he has no judgment, 
 no knowledge of the world or of human nature, and conse- 
 
MR. IRONSIDE. 269 
 
 quently no tact. You may wonder how I could be so 
 imprudent as to consign myself to a person of whom I 
 knew nothing, but you know drowning wretches %vill catch 
 at straws, and soon after he so kindly and warmly took up 
 my 'Appeal' he wrote to me in an authoritative manner 
 for a schedule of every shilHng I owed, and upon receiving 
 it wrote back, ' I shall only be able to allow you ^^"150 a 
 year.' Now, as I know positively nothing about money 
 but the want of it, and have a vague idea that men of 
 business have some occult way of managing monetary 
 affairs, I gave a long sigh, and felt as if the incubus was 
 already removed, and said I would live on £^^0 a year if he 
 could contrive to make the other ^^350 pay the debts Sir 
 
 E. L. B 's infamous and cruel conspiracies had forced 
 
 upon me. . . . But three months ago I found, after all 
 Mr. Ironside's somewhat blasphemous * By God, you shall 
 be got out of this slough,' that he had no final or definite 
 plan on earth. . . ." 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 " October isf, 1857. 
 
 " Your skill, which I know from experience to be 
 as great as your kindness, cannot minister to a mind 
 diseased, and that is my mortal malady, much aug- 
 mented by now finding that this new Divorce Bill, which 
 is, of course, a sham, like all their pretended law amend- 
 ments, does not come into operation till January, 1858. 
 What I am to do without a penny till then God alone 
 knows. Added to all this, though scarcely able to hold up 
 my head, and though writing is the most torturing and 
 detrimental thing to my chest possible, I have to slave 
 away at another book, doubtless to share the same fate as 
 my last, and while 1 write I have to hold my handkerchief 
 with my left hand to my mouth to prevent the blood gush- 
 ing- out." 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SPIES AT TAUNTON. A BOGUS ACTION. 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 " Noz'ember yd, 1857. 
 " I will now tell you the last infamy. You have 
 heard me speak of the wretch Laura Deacon, but callin;^'- 
 herself Mrs. Beaumont, for whom I and my children 
 were turned out of our home. Well, this wretch had 
 established herself at Boulogne-sur-Mer, and by means 
 of the story about Sir Edward's being the guardian of 
 her bastards, had got into some sort of society there, 
 when out came my pamphlet, and all the people were up 
 in arms, and I was inundated with letters from Boulogne 
 saying that the writers were sure this vulgar boasting 
 impostor was one and the same person described therein. 
 To one and all these inquiries I replied there could be no 
 doubt she was the kept mistress, Beaumont, upon which 
 she was summarily drummed out of Boulogne, which she 
 left vowing vengeance upon me and the whole world. Now 
 I come to her descent upon Taunton. 
 
 " Last Thursday, as I was propped up in bed, writing these 
 eternal letters, I was brought a card with this engraved 
 upon it : 
 
 •' ' Mrs. Sellers 
 
 ♦' \{Nee Hautenville), 
 
 " ' 14, I'Vohirn Place, 
 
 ' ' ' Russell Squared 
 
 And beside this was scrawled in pencil ' Late of London.' 
 The message sent with this card was that ' the lady wished 
 particularly to see me, as she was very intimate with some 
 
MRS. SELLERS. 27 I 
 
 of my most intimate friends abroad.' This alone made me 
 suspect that the Llangollen P affair was about to re- 
 commence, for a gentlewoman would have written a note 
 saying who these mutually intimate friends were. Unfor- 
 tunately Mrs. Clarke was out at the time, and you never 
 can get a correct description of a person from a servant, 
 but Anne, the chambermaid, said she was old and haggard- 
 looking, light hair, blue eyes, very thin, etc. ; said she had 
 come that morning from London, but had not a stick of 
 luggage with her, only a little knitting box, not even a 
 nightcap. She ordered her luncheon, and said she would 
 sleep here. I felt sure she was a spy, told them to watch 
 her, and sent down word I was not well enough to see her. 
 ' Oh, she would write to me,' which, of course, she never 
 did. It was then two o'clock ; she went out, and stayed till 
 eight o'clock, when she came in and went to bed, saying to 
 Anne, ' Oh, do put me next Lady Lytton's room.' Anne 
 said she could not, as the rooms were full, which they 
 were not. 
 
 " Beaumont : ' What is the number of Lady Lytton's 
 bedroom ? ' 
 
 " Anne: 'I forget' 
 
 " Beaumont : ' Only tell me which side of the house 
 it is.' 
 
 " Anne (quite angry) : ' I never heard so many im- 
 pertinent questions in my life, and I'm sure you can ask 
 them for no good.' 
 
 " Beaumont : ' Oh, I only wished to be put next to 
 Lady Lytton, as I'm afraid of being put next a gentle- 
 man.' 
 
 " The next morning I sent for Mrs. Clarke; and she said 
 that Beaumont came in asking for a good sitting-room, and 
 then added, ' I should like that one, with a bedroom adjoin- 
 ing, that a friend of mine had when she boarded here two 
 years ago.' Mrs. Clarke felt sure she was a spy, as these 
 were my rooms, and she had never boarded any one but me, 
 so she answered curtly, ' You can't have the rooms, as they 
 are engaged.' I then asked Mrs. Clarke for a minute de- 
 scription, and she gave me the exact one of the Boulogne 
 
2/2 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 woman. I felt convinced that this wretch, the pretended 
 Mrs. Sellers, was no other than Beaumont. She had come 
 into the bar that morning, when the following colloquy 
 ensued : — 
 
 " Keaumont : * I want to hire one of your large ball- 
 rooms, Mrs. Clarke, to give lectures in.' 
 
 "Mrs. Clarke: 'You had better hire the Assembly 
 Rooms for that purpose.' 
 
 "Beaumont: 'I'm sorry Lady Lytton is ill, and I'm 
 sure she would have seen me if she had not been.' 
 
 " Mrs. Clarke : ' I'm sure she would have done no such 
 thing, for she sees no one that comes in the way you did.' 
 
 "Beaumont : 'Ah, but I'm so very intimate with some 
 of her most intimate friends abroad.' 
 
 "Mrs. Clarke: 'What are their names.?' Dead 
 silence ; pause. 
 
 " Beaumont : ' Ah, poor thing, I can feel for her, for / 
 have a brute of a husband myself, from whom I am 
 separated, and if the wretches would only let one alone, 
 and not hunt and persecute one so ! But now there is this 
 new Divorce Bill, I would sue mine in the Ecclesiastical 
 Court if I had money, but a poor woman can do nothing 
 without money ; how can they } ' (This feeler I take to 
 have been the pith and marrow of the spying expedition.) 
 
 " Mrs. Clarke : ' Ah, well. Sir Edward will find, to his 
 sorrow, before he is many weeks older that Lady Lytton 
 has found both money and friends.' 
 
 " Beaumont (evidently taken aback) : ' Indeed ! Do you 
 know where Sir Edward is now } ' 
 
 " Mrs. Clarke : ' No, nor do I want to know. Every 
 one knows where such a villain will be.' 
 
 " Beaumont : * Dear me ! You seem very warm in Lady 
 Lytton's cause.' 
 
 " Mrs. Clarke : ' Not more than any honest person who 
 knows how much she has suffered and is suffering, and 
 how uprightly she acts by every one, would be.' 
 
 " Beaumont (twirling round like a teetotum) : ' I'm lucky 
 in havmg only one child ; and as that has been adopted, it 
 is no bother to me. He ! he ! he Oh, Mrs. Clarke, I'm very 
 
MRS. SELLERS. 273 
 
 sorry I came away in a hurry without any money. Could 
 you let me have that eighteen-pence back again that I paid 
 you for my luncheon yesterday .'' and I'll send you the 
 amount of my bill on Monday.' 
 
 " I then sent Mrs. Clarke to track the wretch through the 
 town. She had been to Day's (a linen-draper's where / deal), 
 and ordered five pounds' worth of things to be sent Jierc for 
 her without paying for them ; to Bragg's, at the library, 
 about the sham advertisement I enclose.* As soon as I 
 got this advertisement I made two copies, and sent one 
 to her infamous employer at Knebworth, the other to Park 
 Lane, directed so as those that run may read : ' To Sir 
 E. Bulwer Lytton, Bart., M.P. For the woman Beaumont, 
 alias Laura Deacon, spy and mistress to that too con- 
 temptible Sir Liar Coward Bulwer Lytton.' I asked this 
 monster if it were not enough to have turned me and my 
 children out of our home, to have hunted me through the 
 world, and beggared me by his dastardly conspiracies, 
 without the crowning outrage of polluting the shelter I had 
 found with this wretch, and if he did not like such truths 
 publicly blazoned on the superscription of letters, to leave 
 off sending his infamous prostitutes to spy upon me, for 
 as sure as he did do so he should hear from me in this 
 strain, and I did not care for all the conventional twaddle 
 in England about my unladylike, coarse, and unfeminine 
 language. I was past all tJiat, so the only language to 
 address him in was that of Billingsgate, and the only pro- 
 tection against such a low, cowardly ruffian was piiblic 
 exposure. Friday, the next morning, I sent Mrs. Clarke 
 off to Weston to make inquiries about the sham Mrs. 
 Sellers. They knew nothing of her there but that she had 
 
 * " Madame Sellers (^nee Hautenville de Hautenville), pupil of 
 Signor Bordoni, principal maestro of La Scala, Milan, and of the 
 Conservatoire at Paris and Royal Academy, London, and of the 
 celebrated composer Alexander Lee, has some hours disengaged 
 during the week, which she proposes to fill by giving lessons in 
 singing and elocution at Taunton and its neighbourhood. Applica- 
 tions as to terms to be made, etc. Madame S is sister-in-law to 
 
 the Rev. W. H. Sellers, late of Trull, and can furnish references in 
 the metropolis from the College of Preceptors." 
 
 18 
 
2 74 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 taken her lodgings at a school, 5, South Terrace, for two 
 months ; and from the mysterious manner in which she 
 came there and the roundabout way of her proceedings, 
 every one thought her a very improper person. — Tuesday 
 night, eight o'clock : A lady has just arrived from Weston 
 to tell me that the soi-disant Mrs. Sellers had been met 
 in the street by a Major Simpson, 'who liad been a 
 very gay man,' and that he said he knew this woman 
 formerly to be a most extensively improper person, and 
 that he instantly returned to his hotel to leave word that 
 if she presumed to call asking for patronage, she was 
 upon no account to be shown up to his wife. This lady 
 who brought me this news knows Mrs, Sellers the mother, 
 who has but one son, the clergyman, now in Italy. She 
 is going to write to his mother to-night, tell her the whole 
 affair and the charming daughter-in-law she possesses (all 
 in ignoring the fact). A thousand thanks for your kind 
 advice, but even could I afford wine, which I cannot, my 
 head is so bad, I should be afraid to take it. God bless 
 you, my dearest and kindest Dr. Price. 
 
 " Believe me, ever your grateful and affectionate 
 
 "ROSINA BULWER LVTTON." 
 
 To Mrs. Jermyn. 
 
 " October 2yd, 1 85 7. 
 
 " Scold you indeed, you dear, darling, golden-hearted 
 woman ! How could that be possible } But still, still you 
 know not how you wring my heart with all these additions 
 to my mountain. Here am I now iJ^20 in your debt. 
 Well, I'd rather have reason to be grateful to you than 
 almost any one I know, so I shall keep your present of ^^5 
 to pay the laundress and the servants at Christmas, and 
 bless you for saving me this additional humiliation." 
 
 To Mrs. Jermyn. 
 
 " Decetnber 6tJi, 1S57. 
 
 *' The worm that never dies within me is the thought 
 and the fear that the poor people who have been so kind to 
 me and would have trusted me to any amount should ulti- 
 
DEATH OF A FAVOURITE DOG. 2/5 
 
 mately suffer. My poor excellent landlady, Mrs. Clarke, 
 who has not seen the colour of my money for nine months 
 (and you must know that all I pay her for everything — 
 food, fires, wax lights, and my two excellent and well- 
 furnished rooms — is two guineas a week, and I pay the 
 servants £4. a quarter besides ; now I could not live for 
 this in a beggarly lodging, and to be with such a good, 
 honest woman is a great protection) — well, when I sent 
 for her some time ago, as I only thought it right to do, and 
 told her my horrible difficulties, and that I had not even a 
 chance of paying her till January, the poor good creature 
 said, with tears in her eyes, ' Oh, never mind me; you only 
 try and keep up, for to see how much you suffer and how 
 hard you work, I'm sure no one out of hell could add to 
 your annoyances. At least, I won't." 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 " November 29//?, 1857. 
 
 " Truly say you, dear Dr. Price, about my poor little 
 darling Tiber, whose loss I feel more and more every day. 
 I at least, with the exception of your dear kind self and 
 three more, could better have spared all my worthless 
 acquaintances than that true-hearted, intelligent, faithful 
 darling dog. My last hope even seems to have died with 
 him. For every evening I used to end my prayers over 
 his innocent head with ' Never mind, my Tiber ; this day is 
 over,' and ' Sure I am that the Lord will avenge the poor, 
 and defend the cause of the helpless.' I have no kind 
 darling eyes now to encourage me in this belief, so, having 
 ceased to feel it, I have ceased to say it." 
 
 " January \\th, 1858. 
 
 " On Monday the siege commenced ; that is, Mr. Iron- 
 side wrote to Sir Edward enclosing him a circular from my 
 friends appealing to public charity for funds to bring my 
 case into court, and giving him one week to consider 
 whether he will submit to this disgrace and exposure, or 
 make me a suitable allowance. . . . Well may the proverb 
 say there is a good side to every misfortune, for though 
 
2/6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 being nearly bedridden weakens me to death, I have 
 literally no clothes, that is no winter clothing, to put on, 
 and all the shawls in the world don't keep one's limbs 
 warm ; consequently every time I attempt to sit up I get 
 a violent cold, for though during the two years and a half 
 I have been here, by dint of hard labour, for which I have 
 neither time nor health, I have contrived to keep my 
 wardrobe mended till it will almost mend no longer, yet I 
 cannot manufacture clothes, and I literally have not a dress 
 or cloak fit to go out in were I able. But what grieves me 
 most is the total destruction by moth, from having no one 
 to look after them, of my beautiful ermine, sable, and grebe, 
 all of which the poor Princess Galitzin gave me, which 
 ^500 would not replace. But Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton 
 is a great man, and it is very wrong of Mr. Hyde to call 
 him a fiend in his letter of to-day, and say that his joining 
 it has ruined the Conservative party. ... I have now 
 arrived nearly at the end of the third volume of another 
 book. . . . God knows where I am even to find a pub- 
 lisher." 
 
 In the next letter she seems to have discovered 
 that Mr. Ironside's well-meant assistance wsls v^^orse 
 than useless. 
 
 " January 22nd, 1858. 
 
 " Would to God I could see you, and you would soon 
 understand that Mr. Ironside is not a clever man, but so 
 self-sufficient and wanting in judgment that he would have 
 undertaken to launch the leviathan with a push of his 
 little finger, or to have quelled the Indian Mutiny with 
 only a broken poker for arms, a snuff-box full of powder 
 for ammunition, a solitary printer's devil for an army, and 
 three-halfpence and a red herring for supplies. I do not 
 recognise Mr. Ironside's right to act in his own way. I 
 now know, as one knows everything too late, that Mr. 
 Ironside is a man who undertakes more than he is able 
 to perform. 
 
 " Like Cassandra, I am a fatally true prophetess. 
 Months ago I said, ' Depend upon it, no good ever comes, 
 
SIR EDWARDS ORIGINALITY. 2/7 
 
 or can come, from a corrupt source; and all that juggle 
 of a Matrimonial Causes Bill, if it ever becomes law, will 
 do will be to enable common women to go to a police 
 magistrate and get a show of justice executed on their 
 tyrants, but all the poor wretched women in the upper 
 classes will have their whole fate left at the mercy of 
 a corrupt and venal judge.' Read the case of Johnson 
 versus Sumner, that I send you, and Chief Baron Pollock's 
 disgraceful dictum that ' even if a husband had ^io,000 
 a year, ^200 a year is enough for the wife!' Mr. Baron 
 Martin, indeed, thought that even if iJ"200 a year was 
 enough for a wife, the decision ought to have been left to 
 a jury ; but the Chief Baron thought not, so the rule was 
 granted accordingly. Now tell me what chance have I, 
 or any other outraged woman in England, after this 
 iniquitous decision .'' " 
 
 The following extract throws some light upon the 
 wonderful rapidity with which Lord Lytton wrote 
 the historical romance "Harold." It was "com- 
 pleted in less than a month " (see " Life of Lord 
 Lytton," vol. ii., p. 163). 
 
 " February yd, 1858. 
 
 " I will send you an extract from Sir Charles Napier's 
 life, by which it appears that when he was at Caen, fired 
 with all the reminiscences of William the Conqueror so 
 rife there, he wrote an historical novel called ' Harold,' and 
 sent it to Colbourne, who wanted to publish it with the 
 author's name. This Sir Charles would not agree to, but 
 could never get back his MS. Years after, when he was in 
 India, out comes Sir Liar's ' Historical Romance of Harold ' 
 ■ — same plot, names, scenes, characters, everything, even to 
 a prophetess of the name of Vala, all except the battles 
 which the ' hero of a thousand fights ' had described so 
 vividly. These were maudlin and tame, ' from,' says the 
 biographer, ' Sir Bulwer Lytton never having been in 
 battle.' And this is the honourable way in which reputa- 
 tions are made in England ! " 
 
2/8 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 " February 2lsf, 1858. 
 
 " Last Thursday I was served with a writ to appear in 
 the Queen's Bench next Thursday at the suit of Maria 
 Sellers for defamation of character. Now I always under- 
 stood that a married woman — and this creature pretends to 
 have a husband — could not issue a writ without her husband's 
 name being included in it. There is nothing of the kind 
 in this one, only Sir Liar's name joined with mine. I 
 instantly sent off to Mr. Hyde. . . . Mr. Kinglake, the 
 Weston magistrate, says that, despite the writ, he cannot 
 believe that Sellers woman, with her infamous character, 
 will ever venture into a court of justice, which is all very 
 fine to say." 
 
 " February 2^th, 1858. 
 
 " With my usual good luck, Mr. Hyde was out of town, 
 and my letter being forwarded to him caused another 
 delay, so I did not get his letter till Tuesday morning. 
 This is the substance of it : ' Your letter has quite upset 
 me. To think that I should be laid up ill when you so much 
 need my services ! for I plainly see you are about to be 
 
 made the victim of a diabolical conspiracy. Sir E 
 
 being made co-defendant, the game will be that he, virtuous 
 creature, cannot countenance scandal, and so judgment 
 will be let go by default, that you may be half beaten before 
 you go into court, and he, being applied to for damages, 
 will make that a pretext for stopping your beggarly 
 pittance in toto. But I should think Mrs. Sellers' bad 
 character would nonsuit her in any court. I have written 
 to Ely Place to tell them to watch the case.' " 
 
 Lady Lytton instructed a Taunton solicitor to 
 enter an appearance for her in this case. He inter- 
 viewed Mr. Hyde at Langport, and received from 
 him full information as to the extraordinary con- 
 spiracy, or rather series of conspiracies, of which she 
 had been the victim. 
 
 "Both lawyers, who see the infamous sham of the whole 
 thing, now think that when the fiend finds, to his astonish- 
 
THE LIBEL ACTION. 279 
 
 merit, that I am both ready and able to defend this 
 shameful suit when the time comes (and twenty-one days 
 after the appearance is put in, according to the law, must 
 elapse before the second step is taken), then there will be 
 no Maria Sellers to prosecute, and so the wretches will, 
 as usual, sneak out of it." 
 
 Such was the result of this precious action, for on 
 the 26th of March Lady Lytton writes : 
 
 " I told Mr. Taunton I was not a fool, and would not 
 submit to be treated like one ; therefore, as my solicitor, I 
 must insist upon his instantly writing a stringent letter to 
 that Petgrave, this woman's attorney, saying that as we 
 were perfectly aware of the whole conspiracy and deter- 
 mined to expose it, they had better lose no time in 
 dropping this insulting farce, as nothing but the thorough 
 conviction that there was no redress for wives in England 
 prevented my bringing a counter-action. The result of 
 this step, which I wanted taken a month ago, was that this 
 morning I received a letter from Mr. Henry Hyde saying, 
 to his great surprise (but not the least to mine) and delight, 
 that the plaintiff had abandoned the suit, which, as I told 
 them from the first, never was instituted but to get the last 
 shilling out of poor hunted me." 
 
 In point of fact, this iniquitous action cost Lady 
 Lytton between ^60 and £']o in preliminary ex- 
 penses, so her persecutors were at least partially 
 successful in their amiable intentions. 
 
 The next move in this extraordinary game was 
 made by Mr. Loaden, who came down to Taunton 
 to try and discover from Mrs. Clarke particulars 
 about the soi-disaiit Mrs. Sellers by professing to 
 have become converted to the belief that Lady 
 Lytton was a much-ill-used and persecuted woman. 
 Mrs. Clarke, as usual, refused to give any informa- 
 
2 8o LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 tion whatever ; but this visit of Mr. Loaden's natur- 
 ally caused poor Lady Lytton the greatest alarm and 
 annoyance. 
 
 " I could not have felt more deadly sick," she writes, 
 " with fright and disgust had I seen a venomous reptile 
 ready to spring at me. . . . Ever since that monster 
 has been here, I feel as if I had a vipers' nest under my 
 bed, and that if I dropped off to sleep, they would crawl 
 up and strangle me. All this, I know, is very wrong 
 and very silly, for even if there was one, God is here also. 
 But all else I can bear but the proximity of that creature." 
 
 "May lotk, 1858. 
 
 " I need not tell you that I am in my normal state, 
 full of troubles, worry, and misery, for Loaden, it 
 seems, went to Mr. Taunton to propose that I should 
 apologise to that infamous woman ! a thing which the 
 vile crocodile dared not hint at in this house, where 
 nothing was heard but his amiable anxiety to save me 
 expense. Taunton wrote to Mr. Hyde, who instantly 
 wrote to Loaden to say, ' No, I should not apologise to 
 that infamous woman, and so open their own trap-door for 
 them to escape.' We all know the sham. Mrs. Sellers 
 never can come into court, but still you may guess the wear 
 and tear it is upon my overworked nerves to have the 
 wretches carrying on this farce from assize to assize and 
 then withdrawing it." 
 
 " 3Iay I'jtk, 1858. 
 " I am certain they are hatching some fresh villainy, 
 for within the last week I have had the most flummerising 
 letters from the editor of the Court Circular, who is 
 also editor of the especial Derbyite organ called the 
 Constitutional Press, set up by them about eight weeks 
 ago. His first letter was wanting to enter into an engage- 
 ment with me to write a novel to appear weekly in the 
 pages of the former, a copy of which he sent me, containing 
 an announcement of my writing the ' Life of Sonnini,' whose 
 
FALSE SYMPATHY. 28 I 
 
 life I really never attempted ; the others were assuring me 
 of his sympathy for my wrongs, and saying that at all 
 times I should have these two papers at my command." 
 
 Lady Lytton's forebodings were w^ell founded, for 
 it was about a month after this letter that she was 
 entrapped into a madhouse. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 LADY LYTTON AT THE HERTFORD ELECTION. 
 
 It was at this stage of her history that Lady Lytton 
 resolved, in her despair, to go to Hertford, and 
 expose her husband's conduct on the hustings. The 
 following is her narrative of the episode as detailed 
 in a letter to her friend Miss Augusta Boys. 
 
 '' Friday, Jime nth, 1858. 
 
 " My dear Augusta, — 
 
 " I could not thank you for your kind letter before, 
 because it found me just setting off on Monday morning 
 for the Hertford election, or rather nomination, for which 
 purpose that paragon of landladies and pearl of women 
 lent me the money, and accompanied me. The journey 
 was terrific, for as I would not go by London, the direct 
 way, for fear of meeting Sir Liar or some of his set bound 
 for the same place, I went by Oxford, on which line all 
 the trains were just twenty minutes behind their time (so 
 much for Bradshaw), so that when we reached Bedford at 
 eleven at night, the last train to Hertford had been gone 
 a quarter of an hour, so we had to post the remaining 
 thirty-five miles. I ascertained at Hitchin that it was the 
 stinginess of the Grosvenors, as there would so soon be a 
 general election, which had prevented their coming down 
 adequately for the contest, at which the Corporation, who 
 had made immense sacrifices to have one, were furious. It 
 was five in the morning before we got to Hertford, and 
 knocked the people up at the Dimsdale Arms ; but by 
 seven all my placards, which I had brought ready printed, 
 
LADY LYTTON AT HERTFORD. 283 
 
 inviting the electors and yeomen to meet me at noon, not 
 indeed for their votes, but for their interest, were pasted 
 all over the town, and produced the greatest excitement. 
 Unfortunately the nomination was to take place at eleven, 
 and just as we were setting off for the hustings, Mrs. Clarke 
 discovered she had blue ribbons in her bonnet, vowed she 
 would not wear his colours, and went to buy another ; this 
 lost hour was fatal to us, for when we arrived on the 
 ground, Sir Liar had made his speech and been nominated. 
 The electors after declared to a man, had I been in time, 
 they would have spared him the trouble of his ignominious 
 flight, and hurled him from the hustings ; however, when 
 I arrived, William Cowper was speaking. The moment I 
 drove into the field the mob began to cheer ; and even Sir 
 Liar's two powdered flunkeys, and both his postilions, took 
 off their hats and caps, and joined. I instantly alighted, 
 and walked over calmly and deliberately to the hustings, 
 just putting the crowd aside with my fan, and saying, ' My 
 good people, make way for your member's wife.' They 
 then began to cheer, and cry, ' Silence for Lady Lytton ! ' 
 Sir Liar's head fell literally as if he had been shot ; Mrs. 
 Clarke said she never saw such a thing in her life ; he 
 staggered against the post, and seemed not to have 
 strength to move. I then said, in a loud, calm, and 
 stern voice, ' Sir Edward George Earle Bulwer Lytton, as 
 I am not in the habit of stabbing in the back, it is X.o you, 
 in the first instance, that I address myself. In the step 
 your cruelty and your meanness have driven me into taking 
 this day, I wish you to hear every word I have to say ; 
 refute them if you can ; deny them if you dare.' Then, 
 turning to the crowd, I said, * Men of Herts ! if you have 
 the hearts of men, hear me !' 'We will. God bless you ! 
 Speak out.' Here Sir Liar, with his hands before his 
 face, made a rush from the hustings. The mob began to 
 hiss, and cry, * Ah, coward ! he's guilty ; he dare not face 
 her,' which lie must have had the pleasure of hearing, for 
 instead of attending the public breakfast in the Corn 
 Exchange, he bolted from the town, and left them all in 
 the lurch. 
 
284 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 " I began by warning the people that one of two things 
 would happen : either that not one syllable of the scene that 
 had just taken place, or of what I was about to say, would 
 be reported in the Times, or by the rest of the press, or 
 else the most barefaced falsehoods would be propagated as 
 to my having rushed on to the ground like a mad woman. 
 Cries of ' Only let them dare to attempt it ; that's all ! ' 
 ' Thank you, my friends, but I rather think it will be the 
 silent and suppression system that will be adopted on this 
 occasion,' 'Ay; but he can't silence the county, and the 
 next time he wants our votes, he may seek them in a horse- 
 pond ;'and off went his colours, and they trampled them 
 under foot. I then gave them a hri^i resume o{ his infamies 
 to me, assuring them it was a farce to look for political 
 probity in England so long as private vice was made the 
 high-road to public honours, and that road was macadam- 
 ised with God's broken commandments. 
 
 " But though gentlemen in England have a perfect right 
 to brutalise their wives as they please, our elastic conven- 
 tionalities have not yet quite extended that autocratic power 
 to the usage of their daughters ; and when I described the 
 manner in which my poor child's young heart had been 
 broken, how she had been slaved to death over her quack 
 of a father's German translations (he not knowing one 
 word of German !), her scanty wardrobe, the wretched house 
 in which she died, which a clergyman in that county could 
 certify, as he had sent to a public-house for some wine when 
 it was too late, the poor boors gave me their tears, which 
 I was more grateful to them for than for all their cheers. 
 After a pause I rewhetted my razor, and, much in Dizzy's 
 own unscrupulous style, began slicing the Derby Adminis- 
 tration, and after a few remarks I said, ' So that, upon the 
 whole, my friends, it is lucky for these honourable and 
 right \\ov\o\xrdih\e gentlemen that the colonies are so far, but 
 though the colonies are far, my Lord Derby's colonial 
 secretary is near, terribly near, or I should . not have the 
 honour, and at the same time the deep affliction and 
 humiliation, of addressing you this day ; but I am tired of 
 having the most insulting calumnies publicly disseminated 
 
A FEW HOME-TRUTHS. 285 
 
 of me by Sir Edward Bulvver Lytton and his emissaries, the 
 last of which, I understand, is that I am mad ' (cries of 
 ' Come, come, that won't do after to-day '), ' which calum- 
 nies are only denied on oath in the attorney Loaden's 
 back office, where perjuries are plentiful and truth scarce. 
 You know oaths cost nothing. So, in fact, my good 
 friends, 1 am here to-day to do what the lawyers call 
 "enter an appearance."' (Loud cheers.) ' I am, moreover, 
 here to tell you that I ivoiit be a peeress upon i^i8o a 
 year, which, from his ceaseless and costly conspiracies, 
 is what Sir E. B. Lytton's original swindle of ;^400 a 
 year has dwindled down to ; and as you have so often 
 disgraced yourselves by supporting him, you must now 
 redeem yourselves by supporting me ' (' That will we 
 to a man ') ; ' and as the right honourable baronet v/ho 
 has just been re-elected' (cries of 'No, no; no election in 
 the matter') 'cannot afford the legal encumbrance of a 
 wife, why she will only, I suppose, have to continue to 
 live, as she has been living for the last eighteen months, 
 on charity.' (Cries of ' Shame ! shame ! Blackguard !') 
 ' Nevertheless, my good people, doiit suppose that I have 
 lightly or without first trying everything made a show 
 of myself here to-day. Friends and foes have for the 
 last year warned Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton not to drive 
 me to this public exposure, but he preferred parting with 
 his character to his money, thereby at once evincing the 
 Bulwer cleverness (which is somewhat crab-like) and his 
 utilitarian theories, one of which is, " Always prefer the 
 interest oi \}i\& greater X.o the lesser number," and every one 
 knows that he has plenty of money, and scarcely a shred of 
 character ; so that it was all the more generous (a Lytton 
 generous !) of him to part to-day unreservedly with so 
 small a supply.' (Roars of laughter.) I said a great deal 
 more, too long to repeat, and ended by thanking them 
 cordially for the patient hearing and hearty sympathy they 
 had accorded me, and apologising that ' unaccustomed as / 
 really was to public speaking, I was unable to favour them 
 with any of those oratorical gymnastics they were accus- 
 tomed to be astounded by in the right honourable baronet 
 
2 86 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 the new Colonial Secretary.' (Renewed roars of laughter.) 
 I then concluded with a short parody on Lord Lyttelton's 
 well-known lines — 
 
 '" If on 7ny statements some few doubts should fall, 
 Look in his face, and you'll believe them all.' 
 
 " 'We do, we do, we do ! God bless you, Lady Lytton ; 
 you'll have your rights yet ; and you'll see that the men of 
 Herts /lave the hearts of men.' 
 
 " The cheering then became uproarious as they followed 
 me to the Mayor's house. Mrs. Woodhouse, the Mayor's 
 wife, told me that as I drove up a poor old woman of 
 ninety, a tenant of Sir Liar's, who had been a tenant 
 of his father's and grandfather's, and who had brought 
 Mrs. Woodhouse some eggs and chickens in from Kneb- 
 worth, when she heard it was I, fell upon her knees, and 
 said, ' Now I don't care how soon I die, for Heaven has 
 sent her here to-day to unmask that villain, who so cruelly 
 broke the heart of his poor young daughter, and has 
 behaved so inhumanly to her, poor lady.' I had brought 
 down all I had left of my ' Appeals ' (about thirty) to distri- 
 bute, and when I got back to the hotel I found the land- 
 lady had sold them for ten times their value, and presented 
 me with a little rou/ean of half-sovereigns ; but I told her I 
 could not possibly take it, as I had not brought them to 
 sell, so she must give them to the poor, as far as they 
 would go. Then came in Rose, the bookseller, to know if 
 I had any more 'Appeals,' as he said, after my ' speech,' he 
 could have sold them at five guineas apiece. Unluckily 
 I had not. They wanted, right or wrong, not to let me pay 
 a sou at the hotel, till I told them I should be quite 
 offended (and oh ! such delicious tea, cream, and home-brewed 
 beer !). All the way to the station the crowd was dense, 
 every window full, and on the tops of the houses the people 
 waving their caps and handkerchiefs and crying, ' God 
 bless you ! God prosper you, brave noble woman ! You'll 
 defeat the wretch yet. He could never buy what you have 
 won to-day.' 
 
 "Again I thanked them all from my heart. While I 
 
LADY LVTTON AT HERTFORD. 287 
 
 was sitting in the railway carriage at the station, I heard 
 a portly, full-blown parson say to a lady, ' I hope you were 
 in time to hear Lady Lytton's speech ? How well she 
 speaks, so much better than the Great Mogul ! So much 
 energy, yet quiet dignity ; such proper emphasis and 
 discretion, yet not a shadow of boldness, notwithstanding 
 the unfeminine proceeding. What Junius-like hits at 
 the Ministry, and how they all told, and how she carried 
 the people away ! Sir Edward's tough indeed if he gets 
 over tJiis day. Such a scene I never witnessed ; she is 
 a brave woman.' Lady : ' Pooh ! he's as tough as what he 
 
 looks like, a granite effigy of the d 1.' Clergyman : ' Ay, 
 
 ay, but his pride, his vanity, his humbug, all to be 
 demolished at one fell swoop by a wave of his wife's 
 fan ! Certainly she did it welU 
 
 " It seems this was to be a week of wonders, for 
 when I got home here on Wednesday morning at four 
 (another night), I found a copy of the Constitutio7ial Press, 
 the especial Derbyite organ, containing tJie most outrageous 
 and unqualified praise of ' The World and his Wife,' 
 cleverly selecting all the political scraps / meant for tJie^n, 
 and applying them to Lord Palmerston, but they said that 
 the book was far beyond their praise ; and not to garble 
 any of the gems by short extracts, they should continue the 
 review. I wrote to the editor to say that this was a capital 
 bundle of thistles to throw to that docile donkey the 
 British public, but that / was quite up to this cogged dice 
 and saiiter la coupe Dizzy dodge, while t/iey were, sud rosd, 
 setting on their press to pour out their unscrupulous 
 malignity, and quote things not in the book, that said 
 sapient public may say, 'You see, so far from Sir Edward 
 trying to decry or to injure the sale of her books, you 
 must confess nothing can be so unqualified as the praise 
 of his especial organ.' Oh, the slimy, tortuous serpents ! 
 really a certain place is too good for them. 
 
 "To go to its antipodes. Wolff, the missionary (who 
 married Lady Georgiana Walpole), and who has a living 
 near this, has manifested a sudden and marvellous interest 
 in me, and sends me a daily letter. I send you that of 
 
288 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 to-day, in which he says Sir Charles Napier, the conqueror 
 of Scinde, used to speak so highly of me. This is odd, 
 as I never saw him. I wish you were here to help me 
 demolish such a magnificent pine dear kind Mrs. Jermyn 
 has just sent me. She must have sent to Brobdignag 
 for it. 
 
 " If you survive the reading of this gazette extraordinary, 
 will you kindly let me have it back by return of post, to 
 send to Miss Ryves and Dr. Price, as I am too dead tired 
 to rewrite it to them. If you have any fancy to keep it, 
 you shall have it back again. Let me also have back 
 Mr. Wolff's note. And with best love to your sister, kind 
 
 regards to Mr. G , and all kinds of condolences to 
 
 poor Jerry, 
 
 " Believe me ever, my dearest Augusta, 
 " Your grateful and affectionate 
 
 "ROSINA BULWER LVTTON." 
 
 This episode took place on the 8th of June, 
 1858 ; and although the London press, almost with- 
 out exception, ignored the whole proceedings, quite 
 enough sensation was created to make Sir Edward 
 Lytton's position exceedingly uncomfortable. He 
 lost no time in resorting to the desperate expedient 
 of incarcerating his wife in a lunatic asylum, and 
 to further this object he sent Mr. Hale Thomson 
 to Taunton to report upon the condition of Lady 
 Lytton's mind. Dr. Thomson's visit is fully 
 described in a second letter to Miss Boys, which 
 I append. 
 
 "Taunton, Friday, Jtine \%th, 1858. 
 
 "My dearest Augusta, — 
 
 " I have been so ill all the week (which you will 
 not be surprised at when you hear the cause) that I could 
 only scrawl you that hasty line with the Evening Star of 
 Saturday, the 12th inst., containing that curtailed, garbled, 
 
MR, THOMSON'S INVASION. 289 
 
 and cooked account of my advent at Hertford. That 
 ruffian Sir Liar's villainy has now culminated ; and even 
 those who know him best, and consequently despise him 
 most, are staggered at its fiendish unscrupulousness. It 
 must be indeed outrageous when I tell you that it has 
 actually roused the open-mouthed indignation of the 
 Tauntonians ; and the yeomanry have declared that 
 should that vile wretch Loaden ever show his hideous 
 face here again, they will publicly drive him out of the 
 place. To show you how diabolical the conspiracy was, 
 it appears that he, the viper, was down here the Thursday 
 week before the Hertford election giving out everywhere 
 that I was mad. Mrs. Clarke is convinced that some were 
 bought over, for certain it is that without black treachery 
 on the part of my pretended friends, or rather agents, 
 no such infamy could have happened ; but I'll bide my 
 time, and they shall reap their reward. Poor dear good 
 Mrs. Clarke is worth her weight in diamonds ; but then 
 she is a woman, and I've never yet known an Englishman 
 who, if he were not against you, was not for you, which 
 always plays an enemy's game better even than active 
 rascality, for did not God Himself when on earth feel that 
 the neutral was the hostile by asserting that 'those who 
 are not for Me are against Me ' t 
 
 " But now for the conspiracy itself. Last Saturday, the 
 1 2th inst., at two p.m., I was still in bed, not having recovered 
 the dreadful fatigue of body of two consecutive nights' 
 travelling, and the terrible prostration of mind from the 
 overwrought excitement at Hertford, when Mrs. Clarke 
 brought me up a card : 
 
 •Mr. Hale Thomson, 
 
 4, Cta>-ges Street, Piccadilly' 
 
 saying he wanted to see me on particular business. I 
 sent word I was in bed, and could not see him, and either 
 to write or tell his business to Mrs. Clarke. Still he 
 persisted, saying he had papers in his pocket for my 
 advantage to submit to me, that he was an old medical 
 man of sixty, and that I need not mind seeing him in 
 my room. I was very indignant at this unwarrantable and 
 
 19 
 
290 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 vulgar perseverance in an utter stranger to obtrude him- 
 self upon me when I was ill in bed, and wrote upon a 
 piece of paper, 'Any communication for Lady Bulwer 
 Lytton's advantage or for her injury can be made to her 
 solicitor, Mr. Charles Hyde, 33, Ely Place, London.' At 
 this, said Mrs. Clarke, he flew into a great rage, and flung 
 out of the house, but soon returned with the rufiian 
 Loaden, that little Dr. Woodford, of Taunton, and a 
 great tall but very respectable-looking woman — a keeper 
 from Gillet's madhouse in this town. At this poor good 
 Mrs. Clarke was furious, rushed upstairs, locked both 
 my doors, and put the keys in her pocket, vowing they 
 should not enter my room but by first cutting her down. 
 Upon this the ruffian Loaden grinned in her face, said 
 he'd break open the door, and told her to make the most 
 of me, as they were going to carry me off to a madhouse, 
 and she should never see me more. Here, she says, Mr. 
 Thomson interposed, and said, ' No, I will not have any 
 violence or outrage off"ered to Lady Lytton. I have come 
 down to make a medical inquiry, and it shall be so strictly 
 
 and conscientiously .' Hearing this dreadful uproar 
 
 at my door, I called out to Mrs. Clarke to unlock it and 
 let Dr. Thomson in, but to come with him, as I would 
 not be left alone with any one capable of such an out- 
 rage as to force themselves into my bedroom. She did 
 so, and he entered, followed by the tall keeper. They 
 both looked at me, and then at each other in evident 
 surprise, for upon all these occasions of dastardly outrage 
 and moral earthquakes I have always sufficient command 
 over myself to be exteriorly deadly calm and cool. 
 
 " After opening the session with a deliberate lie that he 
 had not been sent by Sir Liar, which I nipped in the bud 
 with an ' Of course not ; lie never by any accident does his 
 own dirty work ; but as the amiable, creditable, and manly 
 impeachment against me is lunacy, confine yourself to that 
 count, Dr. Thomson, and don't presume to presuppose me 
 an idiot by telling me such clumsy lies, for who but that 
 incarnate fiend my Lord Derby's new colonial secretary 
 could have authority to send any one to offer me this 
 
A CROSS EXAMINATION. 29 I 
 
 crowning outrage ? ' he hung his head, and said, ' Lady 
 Lytton, no one shall or can kidnap you ; but did you write 
 these letters ? ' producing some old letters of mine, four 
 years ago directed to Sir Liar Coward Bulwer Lytton, and, 
 with the same truths, to the ruffian Loaden. 
 
 " ' TJiat did I, and will do so again and again ; but if 
 those are the grounds upon which they found my insanity, 
 pray why have they bottled them up all these years, and 
 never acted upon them till now ? Why also, when, eleven 
 months ago, Mr. Ironside, of Sheffield, returned the ruffian 
 Loaden one of his own letters, with the true bill of ' Liar, 
 coward, and blackguard ' written under the name of 
 William Loaden, why, I say, did the reptile quietly pocket 
 tJiat ? and why did he not either bring an action, or take 
 out a statute of lunacy against Mr. Ironside, for those 
 truths .'' ' 
 
 " Not a word. Next Mr. Thomson produced a placard, 
 printed on blue paper (as all Sir Liar's were at Hertford), 
 which was dated 'Taunton, Sunday, June 6th, 1858,' and 
 had been placarded all over the county (Hertford), sent to 
 people, and among others to Sir Liar. It was purporting 
 to be his address to his constituents, saying his beloved 
 wife would accompany him on Tuesday, to receive their 
 congratulations ; he hoped theirs would also be with them, 
 as he did not acknowledge any greatness but what ema- 
 nated from the domestic hearth ; and the pride he felt in 
 their suffrages that day was from their heartfelt tribute 
 to the purity of his private character. Then, in his own 
 pompous, inflated, stilted style, which they had hit off to a 
 t, he said, among public questions, he should labour in the 
 cause of ' our great social evil.' In short, it was one of the 
 best-done things I ever read, and I'll send it to you when I 
 get it back. He asked me if I did not write it .'' Mrs. Clarke, 
 who was standing by, before she even read it, said, * No, I 
 can take my oath of that, for it was I who got all Lady 
 Lytton's placards printed.' I then offered to give him my 
 oath on the Bible that I had never seen it till then, adding, 
 ' I should only be too happy to own it,' as I thought it, 
 without exception, the very cleverest and best-done thing 
 
292 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 I ever read, and it must have stung Sir Liar through 
 every nerve, like poisoned arrows, as it was evidently- 
 written by some one who knew his chronic vice and 
 hypocrisy. Mr. Thomson refused to take my oath, saying 
 my simple negation was quite enough. He then got me 
 into a long argument, feeling my pulse, and looking into 
 my eyes and mouth the while as if I were a horse. After 
 this pretty little scena, he turned to the keeper, and said, 
 ' Well, I must say I never found a clearer head, or a more 
 logical mind, or sounder flesh and blood, than Lady 
 Lytton's ; so far from being mad or dying, what do you 
 think } ' 
 
 " ' I think, sir,' said the woman, wiping the tears from 
 her eyes, ' that this is one of the cruellest outrages I ever 
 witnessed in my life to a person so pre-eminently in her 
 senses, as this lady appears ; and only half of what she has 
 told you would certainly have been enough to have driven 
 most ladies quite raving mad.' 
 
 " He then said it was my going to Hertford had made 
 Sir Liar think me mad. He does 7iot think me mad, and 
 that is another lie, for La.dy Glamis warned me months 
 ago that he was trying to hatch some such diabolical plot. 
 I always laughed the notion to scorn, as I said, and still 
 say, that cannot be managed on one tool's t'pse dixit ; there 
 must be publicity and investigation, and then / have 
 nothing, and that cowardly brute everything, to fear. He 
 then took Mrs. Clarke into the drawing-room, and asked 
 if I was not occasionally very violent and very cruel to 
 her .'' She laughed in his face, and said, ' she did not think 
 it was in my nature to be cruel to any living thing ; and 
 as to my violence, that was all concentrated upon my 
 wrongs and outrages, and 1 must indeed be a stick or a 
 stone if I were not violent on that score, seeing what they 
 were.' Afterwards the ruffian Loaden had all the ser- 
 vants up in another room, to ask them the same question, 
 when it appears that Anne and Frizzledom particularly 
 distinguished themselves, Anne by piously hoping they 
 might all drop down dead if they injured a hair of mine, 
 and Frizzledom modestly admitting that ' though he was 
 
LADY LYTTON'S TERMS. 293 
 
 not much of a man to signify, he thought he should be quite 
 equal to putting them three fellers in a horsepond.' Next 
 the little provincial Dr. Woodford was had in to look at 
 the maniac ! After he had heard the whole history of the 
 
 Llangollen conspiracy and old P 's letter of warning to 
 
 me about the spy Getting, he said, in that little squeaky 
 grasshopper voice of his, ' And pray what right had you to 
 turn Miss Getting out of the house .-' ' 
 
 " ' The same right that you would have to turn a burglar 
 out of your house if you had been forewarned that he was 
 in it.' 
 
 " Going away, the little man said, a propos de bottes, 
 which was no doubt included in his fee, ' Still, really, I 
 must say that I think, Lady Lytton, ^^400 a year is a very 
 adequate allowance for any lady.' 
 
 " ' Not for any lady, but decidedly most ample for a 
 Mrs. Woodford, a Mrs. Taunton, or any of that species of 
 provincial animalculas, because, in every sense of the word, 
 more than they, their husbands, and their vulgarity all put 
 together are worth.' 
 
 "'Oh! ah! hum! — yes! — perhaps; with Sir Edward's 
 fortune, certainly it ought to be more.' 
 
 " This cruel yet farcical outrage lasted from 2 p.m. till 
 nine at night. I heard Loaden was like a ramping mad- 
 man when he heard the result of the medical inquiry. 
 When I thought the wretches were at length gone, Mr. 
 Thomson came sneaking back, and asked me, with some 
 hesitation, as a favour, if I would write down, in a note 
 addressed to him, what terms I would accept from Sir 
 Edward not again to publicly expose him .-* The very lenient 
 and moderate terms I required for such life-long villainy, 
 crowned by such a fiendish outrage, were that he should 
 be bound stringently, that is legally (his oath not being 
 worth the breath that went to form it), never again to 
 malign or molest me directly or indirectly; also that I 
 should be henceforth free to live where I liked, and go 
 where I pleased ; that he must instantly pay into Coutts's 
 the sum of ^^4,500, the amount of legal and other expenses 
 his eighteen years of persecution had hampered me with, 
 
294 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 and allow me the very small sum of ;!^5oo a year for my 
 life, not hiSf like the present swindle of ^400, and this 
 intact, without deduction of income tax, made payable to 
 my sole order, quarterly by ^^125 at Coutts's, for I never 
 would again receive through Loaden, neither did I want 
 to be put to the expense of employing an attorney to 
 receive this pittance, or be insulted by a demand for 
 clergymen's certificates to prove that I was alive. If he 
 acceded to these mild and merciful terms, I would promise 
 never to mention his wretched name, which I should be 
 too happy to forget. I gave him till next Saturday (to- 
 morrow) to consider this, which if he did not agree to, he 
 might rely upon my being in London on Monday next and 
 making Downing Street not only too hot for him, but for 
 his whole set. 
 
 " Only think what his last lie has been, denying upon 
 oath that I ever was at Hertford, that it was a mere 
 electioneering flam, and ordering Chapman and Hall, the 
 publishers in Piccadilly, to contradict it positively every- 
 where on his authority. 
 
 " Dr. Woodford was in the bar here the following Monday, 
 Mrs. Clarke says, saying I was no more mad than he was. 
 On the contrary, he had never seen so sane a person ; and 
 he had no doubt I should gain my point, and get all I 
 wanted, which indeed was but reasonable. I forgot to 
 tell you that, after I had given Mr. Thomson the note 
 he required, I said, ' But, pray, what guarantee have / 
 that when they find your report is not amenable to 
 their diabolical conspiracy, they will not employ otJier 
 emissaries to repeat this disgraceful outrage ? ' ' Mine, 
 Lady Lytton, for it would indeed be an outrage. I only 
 hope that you will have no cause to regret my having 
 forced my way into your room to-day, but that you will 
 henceforth be happier than you have ever been,' Time 
 will tell, but I confess I have little faith in the words of 
 any man who could undertake such a mission for such a 
 man as Sir Liar. Besides, the tariff of all men towards 
 me seems to be the fairest possible profession and promises 
 and the foulest possible deeds. 
 
THE PLOT EXPOSED. 295 
 
 " The whole place is crying shame ; and it must be bad 
 indeed when Mrs. Clarke says she never saw a man so 
 
 indignant as even Mr. E . He says she ought to have 
 
 sent for the police, and not have allowed them to force an 
 entrance without producing their warrant. It is when one 
 is bowed down by misery and oppression that one is so 
 grateful for one touch of human feeling, of which there is 
 so little in this great iron-bound, flint-paved country ; and 
 I never shall forget poor little Mrs. Blewett when she came 
 the next morning after this infamy. She flung herself on 
 my bed in such violent hysterics that I thought I should 
 never get her out of them. Indeed, every one has been 
 very kind, and begs me not to be afraid to go out, as every 
 man, woman, and child in the place will protect me ; but 
 I am so ill and nervous with all this (the more so from 
 having held up so superhumanly during the outrage), that 
 God knows when I shall be able to go out again ; and I 
 was' getting so miraculously well, thanks to that cerebisia I 
 am taking. I must kindly beg of you to let me have this 
 volume back to send on to my dear, kind friend Dr. Price, 
 as I am so ill and so overwhelmed with business that I 
 cannot rewrite it. You shall have it and the other safe 
 
 back. With best love to F and kind regards to Mr. 
 
 G , believe me, my dearest Augusta (at least, as much 
 
 as remains of me), 
 
 " Ever gratefully and affectionately yours, 
 
 " ROSINA BULWER LYTTON. 
 
 " I did not know till to-day that the wretches had 
 actually brought two keepers, and one was posted outside 
 my bedroom door the whole five hours the outrage lasted, 
 and a carriage and four at Pattison's (the other hotel) all 
 day ready to carry me off, as that vile wretch Loaden 
 thought. 
 
 " Endorsed. — Upon going to London on Wednesday, the 
 22nd of June, 1858, after this, upon getting no answer to 
 the demand Hale Thomson had made me write, I was 
 kidnapped at his house, 4, Clarges Street, Piccadilly, and 
 incarcerated, as all the world knows." 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LADY LYTTON ENTRAPPED INTO AN ASYLUM. 
 
 M'R. Thomson had promised that Lady Lytton 
 should receive a positive answer to her proposals 
 within four days from their interview, which occurred 
 on June 12th ; but when more than a week elapsed 
 in silence, she lost patience, and determined to 
 endeavour to bring matters to a crisis by going up 
 to London. She writes to Dr. Price on the 21st of 
 June :— 
 
 " I am just starting for London by the mail train, deter- 
 mined that my very moderate demands shall not be kept 
 shilly-shallying at the fiend's pleasure, but shall be decided 
 at once, or he shall take the consequences." 
 
 So on Tuesday, June 21st, 1858, Lady Lytton 
 and Mrs. Clarke set out for London. They arrived 
 there at eight o'clock the following morning, took 
 rooms at the Hyde Park Hotel, opposite the Marble 
 Arch, and went to Mr. Hale Thomson's house in 
 Clarges Street at twelve o'clock. 
 
 "We were shown up into the drawing-room, and 
 presently the fellow came to us, holding out both his 
 hands, which, of course, I did not see, saying he was 
 delighted to see me and hoped I had come to dine with 
 him. I said, ' Mr. Thomson, I have neither come to dine 
 with you nor to be fooled by you. You had better com- 
 
AT MR. THOMSON'S. 297 
 
 municate with Sir Edward Lytton, and tell him I must 
 have a definite answer one way or the other, for which I 
 shall call at six o'clock this evening.' I then went to call 
 on Miss Ryves, and she asked to come with me to be 
 present when I returned to Thomson's, and fortunately I 
 gave her two important letters of Sir Edward's, in case I 
 should, in my agitation, drop or mislay them. At six she, 
 Mrs. Clarke, and I again drove to the corner of Clarges 
 Street, and there got out. As we did so I observed an 
 impudent-looking snub-nosed man, who was walking up 
 and down, and stared at me as if he had been watchmg 
 for us, as afterwards turned out to be the case. We were 
 again shown into the drawing-room at Thomson's, but this 
 time the folding-doors were closed between the two rooms, 
 and we heard the low murmuring of voices in the back 
 room. After being kept waiting more than half an hour, 
 he made his appearance, saying he had been detained 
 by patients ; and soon after him stalked into the room a 
 tall raw-boned Scotchman, with hay-coloured hair, who, I 
 subsequently learned, was an apothecary of the name of 
 Ross, keeping a druggist's shop in Fenchurch Street 
 (another friend of Loaden's), and the second with Thomson 
 who signed the certificate of my insanity, he never having 
 seen me or I him before, and I never having once spoken 
 to him. Finding 1 was to get no answer about the letter 
 from Thomson, I said to Miss Ryves and Mrs. Clarke, 
 ' Come, don't let us waste any more time in being fooled 
 and insulted here; we'll go.' Easier said than done, for on 
 reaching the hall we found it literally filled with two mad 
 doctors, that fellow Hill, of Inverness Lodge, Brentford, his 
 assistant, the impudent snub-nosed man who had stared 
 so when I got out of the brougham, two women-keepers, 
 one a great thing of six feet high, the other a moderate- 
 sized and nice-looking woman, and a very idiotic-looking 
 footman of Thomson's, with his back against the hall door 
 to bar egress. Seeing this blockade, I exclaimed, " What 
 a set of blackguards !' to which Mr. Hill, wagging his head, 
 replied, ' I beg you will speak like a lady. Lady Lytton,' ' I 
 am treated so like one that I certainly ought,' I answered. 
 
298 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Hearing loud talking in the dining-room, into which Mrs. 
 Clarke had been summoned by Thomson, I walked into it 
 in time to hear her very energetically saying, ' I won't ! ' to 
 some proposition they were making to her ; and seeing a 
 side door ajar that led into a back room, I looked in, and 
 there saw those two precious scoundrels Sir Coward 
 Bulwer Lytton and his attorney, Loaden. Boldly advanc- 
 ing towards him, 'You cowardly villain,' I said, 'this is 
 the second time I have confronted you this month. Why 
 do you always do your dirty work by deputy ? ' At this he 
 rushed as he had done from the Hertford hustings, but 
 this time not into Mr. Austin's flower-garden, but down 
 Mr. Hale Thomson's kitchen stairs and up his area steps 
 into the street. I turned to Miss Ryves, who had followed 
 me, and said, ' See, the contemptible wretch has again 
 taken to his heels.' Whereupon, going into the hall, she 
 pushed the idiotic footman aside, and said, ' Whatever 
 villainy you may be paid to practise towards Lady Lytton, 
 you have no right to detain j/ie.' Thomson then ordered 
 the hall door to be unchained and unlocked, and she 
 rushed out into the street. Meanwhile I, who was sitting 
 in Thomson's hall, said, ' Nothing shall get me out of this.' 
 Whereupon the hall door was opened, and two policemen 
 were brought in, at which I rose to my feet and said, 
 ' Don't presume to touch me ! I'll go with these vile men, 
 but the very stones of London will rise up against them 
 and their infamous employer.' At the advent of the 
 policemen I got into Hill's carriage, which was in waiting, 
 he, the two keepers, Mrs. Clarke, and myself, inside, and 
 the impudent-looking snub-nosed assistant on the box. 
 The creatures took me all through the Park, and as there 
 had been a breakfast at Chiswick that day, it was crowded. 
 Many whom I knew kissed their hands in great surprise to 
 see me. Arrived at Mr. Hill's stronghold (Inverness Lodge, 
 Brentford), a very fine house, in fine grounds, which had 
 formerly belonged to the Duke of Cumberland, and which 
 since my incarceration Hill has been obliged to leave, and 
 transfer himself to London, public indignation having made 
 it too hot for him, I fortunately had the presence of mind 
 
AT THE ASYLUM. 299 
 
 to ask the name and locale of my prison and write it down 
 on one of my cards for Mrs. Clarke, that she might bring 
 me my things from the Hyde Park Hotel. I was shown 
 upstairs, after she left me, into a large bedroom with the 
 two keepers, and the windows duly nailed down and only 
 opening about three inches from the top. After kneeling 
 down and praying to God in a perfect agony, I bathed my 
 face in cold water ; and the little keeper was very kind and 
 feeling, and said to me, ' Oh, pray, my lady, try and keep 
 calm under this severe trial. It does seem to me to be 
 something very monstrous, and, depend upon it, God will 
 never let it go on.' ' I know He will not,' said I ; and then, 
 looking through the window, I saw between thirty and 
 forty women walking in the grounds. ' Are all those un- 
 fortunates incarcerated here t ' I asked of the little keeper. 
 ' Those,' she said, rather evasively, ' are our ladies. They 
 are out gathering strawberries.' I then rang my bell, and 
 when it was answered, said, ' I want to see Mr. Hill.' He 
 came, and before I could speak, said, ' It is a lovely even- 
 ing, Lady Lytton. You had better come out and take a 
 walk.' 
 
 "'Mr. Hill,' said I, ' I sent for you to order you to remove 
 those two keepers from my room, for I am not mad, as yo7i 
 very well know, and I won't be driven mad by being treated 
 as a maniac, and as for walking out with or associating 
 with those poor creatures out there, if they really are 
 insane, I'll not do it, if I am kept in your madhouse ten 
 years.' 
 
 " ' Madhouse ! madhouse ! nonsense. Lady Lytton ! this 
 is no madhouse, and those are my children.' 
 
 " • Then you must be a perfect Danaus,' said I, ' for there 
 are about forty of them. But if you had a hundred, I 
 again order you to remove these women from my room, and 
 at your peril disobey me.' 
 
 " He then told them to leave the room, and went himself 
 soon after. In about half an hour I heard my door un- 
 locked on the outside and a gentle knock at the door. I 
 said, ' Come in,' and a charming little girl of about fourteen, 
 with a pretty, gentle expression of face, soft chestnut hair. 
 
300 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 and the prettiest and most dove-like dark hazel eyes I ever 
 saw, came in with some tea and some strawberries. This 
 was Hill's eldest daughter ; and how he and his vulgar 
 English wife came by such a child I can't imagine, unless 
 the fairies stole theirs and left this one in exchange. This 
 dear little girl, my only consolation while there, con- 
 ceived the most violent affection for me, which I heartily 
 returned, for she was a perfect star in the desert, and with 
 a big fat, magnificent tortoiseshell cat, with the most fas- 
 cinating manners, a perfect feline Chesterfield, and the 
 poor cow, which Hill used to leave in an arid field, under 
 a vertical sun, without water (the pump being deranged, 
 like his patients), were my only comforts ; and as I and poor 
 little Mary Hill used to pump for hours at this crazy pump, 
 till we filled the stone trough for the poor cow, which used 
 to bound and caper like a dog when it saw us coming to the 
 rescue, this was, no doubt, considered as a strong proof of 
 my insanity, or at least of my having water on the brain. 
 I never would go into the grounds with the keepers, only 
 v/ith my dear gentle, affectionate little companion Mary 
 Hill; and, moreover, Mr. Hill sent all his 'children' to his 
 other madhouse further on the road, so that I had the 
 Palladian villa of Inverness Lodge, Brentford, all to my- 
 self, without even the three kings. The first evening poor 
 Mrs. Clarke returned about ten o'clock with my scanty 
 wardrobe. I implored her not, by way of consulting a 
 lawyer, to go to Mr. Hyde, whom, after the Lyndhurst 
 paper and Sellers affair, I believed to be trying to desert 
 me, which affairs eventually proved to be true. But, un- 
 fortunately, at Miss Ryves's instigation, she did, for your 
 friends always know your affairs better than you do your- 
 self It appeared that two days after I was incarcerated 
 in Mr. Hill's stronghold, and Mrs. Clarke had returned to 
 Taunton to rouse up the people, which she did to good 
 purpose, Loaden went to Taunton to my hotel, with a 
 solicitor of the town, saying he had come for my tin boxes 
 and all my papers. ' Then,' said Mrs. Clarke, ' you won't 
 have one of them.' Of course the provincial attorney 
 thought the great man and that sacred Mumbo Jumbo a 
 
loaden's proceedings. 301 
 
 husband (no matter how bad his character) ought to be 
 omnipotent, and that she should give them up. But she 
 would not ; and some commercial traveller in the hotel, 
 hearing the altercation between them, very kindly called 
 her out of the room, and said, 
 
 " ' Ask him to show you his warrant or authority for 
 making such a demand ; and if the fellow won't or can't, 
 then I'll know how to deal with him.' 
 
 " She did so, and the wretch said he had his order in his 
 pocket. * Well, then, produce it,' said the traveller, coming 
 in ; ' and if you won't, I'll send for a constable to turn you 
 out of this.' At which the attorney, Mr. Edwards Beadon, 
 said, in all humble sycophancy, to Loaden, ' My dear sir, 
 you had better produce your authority.' But as the 
 wretch, of course, could not produce what he had not got, 
 the commercial traveller turned him out neck and crop. 
 But as he went he turned to Mrs. Clarke, clenching his fist, 
 and said, ' Take my word for it, you will never see Lady 
 Lytton again, nor will any one else.' ' And take my word 
 for it, Mr. Loaden, that this threat of yours will turn out 
 as great a falsehood as everything else you have ever said,' 
 was her answer." 
 
 With reference to this attempt to obtain possession 
 of Lady Lytton' s papers, the follovi^ing letters may 
 be interesting. Lady Lytton was incarcerated on 
 the 22nd of June, and on the next day Mr. Loaden 
 writes : — 
 
 To Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 " Jtme 22,rd, 1858. 
 
 " I forgot to ask you to-day if Lady Lytton gave you 
 any papers or gave Miss Ryves any papers, and if she 
 did, where the papers now are. 
 
 " Yours obediently, 
 
 " William Loaden. 
 
 " Thursday night. A verbal answer will do." 
 
30 2 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 On hearing of this, Mr. Hyde at once wrote the 
 following to Mrs. Clarke : — 
 
 "33, Ely Place, London, E.G., 
 
 " June 2^h, 1858. 
 
 "Madam,— 
 
 " By a deed of separation between Sir Edward and 
 Lady Lytton, dated April 19th, 1836, all property of 
 every sort and description belongs to Lady Lytton that 
 she shall at any time be possessed of ; and, as her solicitor, 
 I request that you will not let any person interfere with 
 what is at your house at Taunton ; and should any violence 
 be attempted, you must apply to a magistrate, and show 
 him this note, and he will afford you protection. I shall 
 take proper legal steps to have Lady Lytton released from 
 the unlawful confinement she is now suffering under. 
 " I am, Madam, 
 
 " Yours very obediently, 
 
 " Charles Hyde. 
 " Mrs. Clarke, Giles' Castle Hotel, Taunton." 
 
 I now resume Lady Lytton's narrative. 
 
 " At Hill's the rule of the house was about two inches 
 of candle to go to bed with, for fear of some mad incen- 
 diary, and then the door double-locked on you outside ; 
 but as I was not either mad or an incendiary, and am in 
 the habit of making my ablutions, and reading, and saying 
 my prayers, before I go to bed, I could not do so within 
 the two inches, and so effectually resisted the candle rule, 
 but could do nothing against the locked door, and, there- 
 fore, was greatly frightened the next morning, for the 
 first time one awakens in a strange place one cannot for 
 a few seconds remember where one is, so I was frightened 
 at seeing the great six-feet-high keeper standing over me, 
 who said, ' I came to call you, but your Ladyship seemed 
 in such a happy sleep, I did not like to wake you.' I told 
 Hill this must not happen again, but she must wait till I 
 rang. He then said, he meant to get me a maid next day, 
 
DISCOMFORTS AT THE ASYLUM. 303 
 
 which was a dehcate way of putting it, considering that the 
 six-feet-high's successor was even viore strapping, only 
 dark, and the image, or rather the facsimile, of ' the fair 
 Sophia ' in Cruikshank's ballad of Lord Bateman, if she 
 had only worn a turban, instead of a cap, and had had a 
 gold warming-pan of a watch at her side. Her name was 
 Sparrow, but she never was in the way when I wanted her, 
 her excuse being, as the house had a flat roof (Italian style), 
 she used to sit out there to work, the ' prospec ' was so 
 ' rural.' ' But, Sparrow,' said I, ' you were engaged to 
 attend upon me, and so should not, like the rest of your 
 species, sit alone upon the housetop,' Everything was so 
 atrociously bad at this fine house, that I really could not 
 eat, and I believe Hill began to fear I should die upon his 
 hands, so, at the end of four days or five, he said to me, 
 ' What can I get you ? what do you have for breakfast at 
 Taunton ? ' ' What I am not likely to have here, Mr. Hill, 
 — an appetite.' But what I really suffered most from in 
 that intensely hot summer, — being a water-drinker, and 
 the water at Taunton being the very finest I ever tasted in 
 any part of the world, — was the horribly tepid bad water 
 at Hill's ; and when I tried the soda-water, that was equally 
 bad. I was also thoroughly wretched, without my clothes 
 and books or a single thing I was accustomed to. Hill, 
 it was true, was vejy anxious to send for a// my goods and 
 chattels to Taunton, which, you may be quite sure, I would 
 not let him do, as I told him it was not worth while for 
 the very short time, I was szire, public indignation would 
 allow me to remain incarcerated in his stronghold. When 
 I had been there about ten days, the Commissioners made 
 their visit. They were Dr. Hood, Dr. ConoUy, and Mr. 
 Procter (Barry Cornwall), by far the best and most gentle- 
 manlike of them, who listened to my statement with 
 marked attention, saying, with a shrug of his shoulders, 
 ' Those letters, I confess, startled me.' The letters he 
 alluded to were two I had written to Sir Edward touch- 
 ing some of his infamies, for there is no vice that he has left 
 unexhausted, and no virtue unassumed. But, as I told Mr. 
 Proctor, the charges in those letters were no inventions of 
 
304 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 mine ; and I gave him my authority, which was, that when 
 I was at Geneva, my old friend, the Comtesse Marie de 
 Warenzow, came to me one morning, and said she had got 
 a letter from her niece, Lady Pembroke, and she must 
 read me one paragraph. This was the paragraph : ' That 
 wretch, Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, has just been drummed 
 out of Nice for his infamous conduct.' Before these com- 
 missioners I turned to Mr. Hill, who stood, like a foot- 
 man, at a respectful distance in their presence, and I said, 
 ' Now, Mr. Hill, I have been nearly a fortnight in your 
 house, can you say from your conscience — if you have one 
 — that I have said, done, or looked, any one thing that 
 could in any way make you think I was not in the full 
 and clear, ay and very analytic possession of my intel- 
 lect.''' Hill wagged his head, twirled his thumbs, and 
 rolled his poached egg orbs fearfully, as he mumbled in a 
 low voice, ' I'd rather not give an opinion.' ' Of course 
 not,' said I, ' having taken the ghost's word for a thousand 
 pounds yearly. But pray if you believe me in any, even 
 the slightest degree, insane, how can you reconcile it, to 
 your conventionality towards these gentlemen, the Com- 
 missioners, to leave your very charming little daughter, un- 
 guarded, with me all day long, and worse still, allow her to 
 drive out with me alone, when, from one minute to another, 
 I might do her some grievous bodily harm, or make my 
 escape with ease .'' ' 
 
 "At this, without wasting a reply on me, Mr. Hill 
 began sonorously clearing some imaginary obstruction 
 in his throat, and reminded the Commissioners that they 
 would be late for the train. 
 
 "I may as well tell you here what, of course, I only 
 heard after from Miss Ryves and others — namely, that 
 Miss Ryves, after rushing out of Thomson's house, imme- 
 diately drew up and sent to the papers a true and circum- 
 stantial account of my most iniquitous kidnapping and 
 incarceration, which the time-serving Times, of course, did 
 not Insert. She also wrote to the Hertford papers to say 
 she had been for years witness to and cognisant of Sir 
 Edward Lytton's persecutions of me, and my maid was 
 
SIR EDWARDS SLANDERS. 3OS 
 
 (and, thank God, is) still living, who had been witness to 
 his personal brutalities in former times ; and, in short, 
 that there could not be on this earth a more iniquitous 
 pair than my Lord Derby's colonial secretary and his 
 attorney Loaden. 
 
 " The Sunday after the visit of the Commissioners, an 
 oppressively hot day, the door was unlocked, and Mr. 
 Hyde tottered into my room, for he was then sufiferin;^ 
 from softening of the brain, the complaint of which he 
 afterwards died. His hands were full of papers; and he 
 said, in his blufif bull-dog way, ' Well, I've seen Sir Edward 
 in Downing Street. I saw him yesterday ; and though it's 
 almost too bad to show you, yet you must see it — I mean 
 the statement he and Loaden drew up for the Commis- 
 sioners respecting your insanity.' This precious documentary 
 piece of rascality set forth that both my parents died mad. 
 Now my father had had one of the most absurdly splendid 
 public funerals for a commoner that ever was seen, being 
 Grand Master of some Masonic lodge ; and ostentatious 
 burials are not generally bestowed on lunatics. And my poor 
 mother having been dead only ten years, any one could 
 have refuted t/iat lie. But, like all Sir Edward's lies, they 
 were only fabricated for the few and for the dark, and 
 never allowed to appear in the honest, searching light of 
 publicity. This tissue of lies went on to say that I had 
 attempted to commit suicide, and that the family insanity 
 in me had developed itself in delirium tremens from my 
 intemperate habits. 'The dastardly fiend!' I exclaimed; 
 ' so the sacrilegious monster would even desecrate my 
 poor father and mother's graves ! For what ? To bury 
 his life-long victim alive in a madhouse.' 
 
 " ' Yes , 'pon my soul, it's too bad,' said the attorney ; 
 ' but I'm happy to tell you that I have now got you the 
 .;^500 a year for jj/^//r life.' 
 
 " I knew by this, though all papers but the conveniently 
 reticent Times had been kept from me, that public indig- 
 nation must be astir, and making things rather unpleasant 
 for my Lord Derby's colonial secretary, in which I was 
 right, for I afterwards heard that not only the people here 
 
 20 
 
306 I.IFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 (Taunton) were holding committees and meetings every 
 day on the outrage of which I had been the victim, and 
 the Somersetshire Yeomanry were determined upon going 
 mounted to London, and pulling his house about his 
 ears, if I were not released, but his butler could literally 
 scarcely stand under the loads of letters he had to bring 
 in every morning of imprecations and threats by no means 
 anonymous. And as poor Prince Albert was then living, 
 my Lord Derby was sent for in hot haste by Her Majesty, 
 and told either I must be instantly set at liberty, or his 
 colonial secretary must resign ; for the outrage, or rather 
 the scandal, was too great. Now my woman's intuition 
 and common sense told me something of this sort must be 
 going on, or I should never have heard a syllable about the 
 ^500 for my life. So, in reply to Mr. Hyde's communica- 
 tion, I said, ' What ! are they trying to make me out an 
 idiot, as well as a maniac, that they or you should suppose, 
 after such an irreparable culminating outrage as he has 
 inflicted upon me by this incarceration, I will let that 
 meanest of creatures Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton off upon 
 the beggarly pittance I would have accepted before it, and 
 oblige him by vegetating upon it, in the exile of some 
 living tomb, all the rest of the life he has so poisoned at 
 every source } No, thank you.' 
 
 " 'Well,' said Mr. Hyde, ' Sir Edward has shown me his 
 rental, and how he is tied up ; and he really cannot " 
 
 "'Pray, Mr. Hyde,' said I, interrupting him, 'are you 
 Sir Edward's solicitor or mine 1 ' 
 
 " Whereupon, not finding it convenient or agreeable to 
 endure any probing, he scrambled up all his papers, and 
 said, taking out his watch, ' Bless me ! I shall lose the 
 train,' and darted out of the room. 
 
 " The next day Dr. Roberts, whom I had known a long 
 time, called on me, and when I told him of Mr. Hyde's 
 audacious proposition about the ^500 a year, he urged me 
 to be firm, and not take a doit less than a thousand a year, 
 which, as he truly said, was little enough, after such an 
 outrage, for which, said I, no money coidd compensate. 
 ' Very true/ said he, and after assuring me of the universa 
 
A DRIVE TO RICHMOND. 307 
 
 indignation and sympathy my case had excited, he took 
 his departure, promising soon to call again. 
 
 "The plot was now evidently thickening, for the next 
 morning Sparrow, entering my room, said a groom had 
 just ridden out in such haste that the horse was covered 
 with foam to tell Mr. Hill he must go to London without 
 a moment's delay; 'and I cannot but think and hope,' said 
 she, ' that it means some good to your Ladyship.' About 
 five o'clock Hill returned from town, more fat, head-wag- 
 ging, and eye-rolling than ever, but desperately civil, and 
 aux petit s soins, and asked me if I would like a drive as far 
 as Richmond .'* I said yes, amazingly, provided Miss Hill 
 went with us. ' Oh, yes, certainly,' said he ; ' for your 
 Ladyship has quite bewitched my little Mary, and she cries 
 every time a servant is sent up to you with anything 
 instead of her.' Never was anything so beautiful as that 
 always lovely view from Richmond Hill upon that glorious 
 July evening, with the golden sun steeping it in light and 
 turning the ' silver Thames ' into a perfect Pactolus, while 
 the fresh breeze from the river was a real luxury, after my 
 nearly three weeks' incarceration in that large but low- 
 ceilinged, stuffy room, with its nailed-down windows ; and 
 as caged birds are always wild when they do get out, 
 Mary Hill and I took to running races, not the least 
 part of the pleasure of which was seeing fat old Hill, 'like 
 panting Time, toiling after us in vain,' and puffing and 
 blowing like a steam-engine, till he made almost as much 
 noise as his ten children made under my windows of a 
 morning when I was groaning in my cage. By the time we 
 got back to Inverness Lodge the evening was fast closing 
 in ; and though, as always, 1 had an invitation to sit below 
 in a really magnificent lofty-roufed banqueting-room, some 
 fifty feet long, I preferred my own society in my room." 
 
 As Lady Lytton writes above, the news of her 
 confinement in Mr. Hill's asylum created such a 
 scandal, in spite of the efforts of her husband and 
 his friends to keep the affair quiet, that Sir Edward 
 
308 LIFE OF LADV LYTTON. 
 
 Lytton found it absolutely necessary, for the sake of 
 his own reputation, to take immediate steps for her 
 release. Negotiations were then set on foot, with 
 the result that this persecuted lady at length agreed 
 to go abroad with her son and Miss Ryves until the 
 scandal had in some degree subsided, upon the 
 distinct understanding that when she returned her 
 debts should be paid, and she should receive an 
 allowance of ^i,ooo a year. How these promises 
 were fulfilled will appear hereafter 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 RELEASE OF LADV LVTTON. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 ' Having been brought to Mr. Hill's stronghold on Wed- 
 nesday, June 22nd, 1858, at 7 p.m., I left it on Saturday, 
 July 17th, 1858, at 3 p.m. Poor little Mary Hill cried so 
 violently that I was really grieved to leave her, and felt 
 quite selfish in going, as I then thought, to be happy. 
 
 "Upon this memorable 17th of July, from 3 to 7 p.m., 
 I had to drive all over London in quest of ready-made 
 things, and then to go to Farrance's Hotel, to eat a hurried 
 dinner, and after from Belgrave Square to London Bridge 
 railway station, so that I was really quite worn out when 
 at eleven at night I found myself in bed at the Lord 
 Warden Hotel, Dover, from whence we did not cross to 
 Calais till Monday, the 19th." 
 
 From Calais the party proceeded to Paris and 
 thence to Bordeaux, where they stayed about a 
 month. About the end of August they went on 
 to Luchon, Put I must now return to the events 
 which were meanwhile happening in England. Sir 
 Edward's object in sending his wife abroad in 
 company with her son was of course to silence his 
 detractors, who were becoming inconveniently 
 clamorous ; and with this end in view, he did his 
 very utmost to stifle the voice of the press, and 
 to persuade even Lady Lytton's own friends that 
 he had at length determined upon an entire change 
 of policy, and was willing to permit his unhappy 
 
3IO LIFE OF LADY LYTrON. 
 
 wife to live in peace and comfort for the remainder 
 of her Hfe. In this design he was eminently suc- 
 cessful, for, having sent his wife abroad with her 
 son and Miss Ryves, he contrived to win over 
 Mr. Hyde to a belief in the goodness of his inten- 
 tions, as the following letter, written by that gende- 
 man to Mrs. Clarke, will show : — 
 
 " 33, Ely Place. ////j 172'//, 1858. 
 
 "Dear Madam, — 
 
 " I am happy to say everything is in a fair way of 
 settlement for Lady Lytton, and you will no doubt hear 
 from her, with all particulars. She is to leave Brentford 
 to-day. Mr. Edwin James, the Queen's counsel, and 
 myself have fresh authority to settle her debts, and what 
 I ask of you now is to be good enough to let me know 
 what her Ladyship is indebted to you, and what other 
 creditors at Taunton she has. 
 
 " I remain, 
 
 " Yours, etc., 
 
 "Chas. Hyde. 
 " Mrs. Clarke." 
 
 At this period Mr. Hyde was in failing health 
 — he died of softening of the brain in September, 
 1859 — and he was no doubt more easily dealt with 
 than he might have been under different circum- 
 stances. As a matter of fact, these debts were not 
 all paid off until April, i860. 
 
 With reference to the part taken by the press 
 in this matter, it is worthy of notice that the Times 
 ignored the whole affair, the only allusion being this 
 short note, published July 14th, 1858 : — 
 
 " Lady Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 " We are requested to state upon the best authority 
 that all matters in reference to this lady, about whom 
 
THE " SOMERSET COUNTY GAZETTE." 3 I I 
 
 certain statements have appeared in some of the public 
 journals, are in process of being amicably settled by family 
 arrangements to the satisfaction of all parties concerned." 
 
 Other papers, however, were not quite so amiably 
 reticent. A long account of the whole case ap- 
 peared in the Somerset County Gazette of July 13th, 
 1858, from which it will be sufficient to quote 
 extracts. 
 
 From the '" Somerset County Gazette and West of England 
 Advertiser',' July ijtli, 1S58. 
 
 " For some three years past a lady, rather above middle 
 age, of somewhat portly figure and handsome countenance, 
 has occupied apartments in the quiet, comfortable, and 
 pleasant establishment at Taunton known as Clarke's 
 Hotel. Her appearance, manners, and habits, so far as 
 the latter were known, did not cause her to b.: particularly 
 noticed as she walked in public ; for she was much like 
 ordinary ladies — plainly and becomingly dressed — con- 
 ducted herself with propriety, remarked objects that were 
 likely to attract attention, and passed without notice those 
 that were not so. She sometimes did a little 'shopping,' 
 as ladies generally are fond of doing, and when she asked 
 for any particular article, she did so in ordinary terms, 
 and answered questions in a rational manner, though at 
 times with haughtiness. In her country walks she was 
 occasionally accompanied by a female friend, though 
 generally in these her only companion was a little dog, 
 for which she always showed great fondness. Sometimes 
 also she has been seen at public entertainments, though 
 but seldonij and there her attire has been similarly becom- 
 ing to that in her walks in town or country. In a place 
 like Taunton, a person of any note does not long reside 
 before he or she becomes known to many of the inhabit- 
 ants ; and soon after the arrival of the lady we have been 
 describing, she was generally known to be Lady Bulwer 
 Lytton, wife of the eminent novelist, who now holds the 
 
3 I 2 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 distinguished position of Colonial Secretary in her Majesty's 
 Government. 
 
 " Persons who are in a state of madness give indications 
 of their misfortunes at home and abroad. They 
 
 ' Bend their eyes on vacancy, 
 And with the incorporeal air do hold discourse ; 
 Their words are loose 
 As heaps of sand, and scattering wide from sense.' 
 
 But Lady Lytton, during the three years she was at 
 Taunton, never did aught that we are aware of (and we 
 have taken pains to ascertain the truth) to cause in any 
 one with whom she had communication the sh"ghtest 
 suspicion that in her case reason had been dethroned, or 
 that her brain was in any degree affected with lunacy. 
 Yet this lady has been taken from the quiet retreat she 
 had chosen in this fair town of Somerset — perhaps we 
 might say to which she was driven — and carried to one 
 of those miserable abodes of the most hapless of human 
 beings — a * madhouse.' 
 
 " The circumstances under which Taunton has lost one 
 of its inhabitants are so extraordinary and so shocking, 
 that, as may be supposed, they have greatly excited the 
 minds of the people generally. Upon those persons who 
 were on terms of intimacy with Lady Lytton (they were 
 only few, for she evinced little inclination to mix in society, 
 and it was pretty well known that her pecuniary means 
 were too limited to allow of her doing so), upon her 
 personal friends the first mention of the fact fell like a 
 clap of thunder when the skies give no sign of an ap- 
 proaching storm. They could not credit such strange 
 information with truth ; but when convinced of its veracity 
 their exclamation has been, ' Good heavens ! Lady Lytton 
 in a vmdJunise ! For what .'' Who can have sent her there .'' 
 She is no more mad than I am, or any one else.' And 
 those who have merely seen her as she passed them in the 
 streets or other public highways have been hardly less 
 startled by the intelligence. There is on all hands a firm 
 belief that this unfortunate lady — we say unfortunate in 
 
THE "SOMERSET COUNTY GAZETTE." 313 
 
 allusion only to her present lamentable position, and 
 without reference to circumstances which have given both 
 to herself and her husband an unenviable notoriety — there 
 is, we say, a firm belief that Lady Lytton is the subject of 
 a horrible and appalling injustice and wrong ; that while 
 perfectly sane she has been shut up in a lunatic asylum, 
 merely in order that a woman who has, no doubt, been a 
 constant source of annoyance to her husband may be 
 prevented for ever from again giving him similar trouble, 
 or again molesting him in any way. In ascribing to her 
 the character we have given, we desire to avoid the indica- 
 tion of any opinion as to her conduct towards Sir Edward, 
 or as to his general treatment of her. We only state a 
 fact, that people among whom she has resided during a 
 period of three years — to many of whom she is well and 
 intimately known, and most of whom have had frequent 
 opportunities of seeing her — believe that though sent to 
 an as} lum for lunatics, her intellect is perfectly sound, and 
 therefore that she has been made, for some reason or 
 other, the victim of an atrocity which a hundred years ago 
 might have excited no great attention beyond the circle 
 of the doomed one's own relatives, but which cannot be 
 overlooked in the present age without danger to ' that 
 liberty of the subject' which has been since achieved, and 
 which is the highest boast and most glorious privilege of 
 the people of this country. 
 
 " In giving to Lady Lytton the character we have 
 ascribed, and in stating what is the general opinion of her 
 in this town, we by no means wish to have it supposed 
 that we regard her as one of the most pleasant or amiable 
 of women. Her later literary works (for none of which 
 can be claimed any considerable praise) seem to have been 
 undertaken in a great measure for the purpose of pub- 
 lishing to the world her own sufferings, and of exposing 
 what she conceived to be the foul treatment she received 
 from one who vowed at the altar to ' love and cherish her ; ' 
 and in more than one instance her writings evince unkind 
 and uncharitable feelings towards very estimable and 
 excellent persons. We particularly allude to one of her 
 
314 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 latest productions, entitled ' Very Successful,' in which 
 a lady of this town, who is only known to be respected 
 and esteemed, is held up to most undeserved ridicule for no 
 t thcr reason than that she did not desire to cultivate her 
 Ladyship's acquaintance, having, probably from the nature 
 of her daily engagements, little time to give to the main- 
 tenance of friendships beyond the circle of associates she 
 had already gathered around her.* And we happen to 
 know that in several ca'^es her Ladyship has manifested 
 much haughtiness to persons who have had occasion to 
 come in contact with her. But such things as these, how- 
 ever much to be deprecated in all persons, certainly cannot 
 be regarded as evidence of a deranged brain, for if unkind 
 and offensive personalities in print were so considered, few 
 writers would be safe from incarceration in a lunatic asylum ; 
 and if haughtiness were held to be a proof of lunacy, who 
 is there that should give the necessary ' certificates,' and 
 who become ' warders '.-' Displays of ill-temper and 
 malignity, of pride and arrogance, are never very reason- 
 able ; they are in truth very ridiculous. Still there is much 
 yet to be learnt if they are to be held as indications of 
 madness. We make these remarks to show that, while 
 under an impression — we will say a conviction — that in 
 Lady Lytton's transfer to a lunatic asylum she has been 
 made the victim of a shocking outrage and crime, we 
 are not unacquainted with, or insensible to, her weaknesses 
 and defects. And we may here state that our object in 
 alluding to her case at all is to enforce by its publicity 
 that strict investigation into its circumstances to which 
 she is in common justice entitled, and which society 
 demands for its own satisfaction and as its own safeguard. 
 "Four hundred a year being unequal to the require- 
 
 * I have not thought it advisable to omit this passage, though it 
 is based upon a misconception. One of the characters in "Very 
 Successful" bears the same name as a lady who lived in Taunton 
 at this period, but when the novel was written Lady Lytton was not 
 even aware of her existence. It is of course true that Lady Lytton, 
 owing to her unfortunate position, avoided mixing much in Taunton 
 society, and thereby offended certain worthy people in all innocence. 
 — L. D. 
 
THE " SOMERSET COUNTY GAZETTE." 3 I 5 
 
 ments of a lady who had moved in the higher classes of 
 society — leaving luxuries out of the question — Lady Lytton 
 became involved in debt, which of late has claimed about 
 one-half of her income, and of course every year saw her 
 sink deeper and deeper into the mire. One of her chief 
 complaints against her husband was the smallness of the 
 means he allowed her for her support ; and certainly if, as 
 is stated, his own income is iJ" 10,000, it is a very reasonable 
 one, for the allowance of ^8 a year to his wife by a man 
 whose income is ;^200 would be just in the same propor- 
 tion ; and there are few who would not decry and condemn 
 the injustice which such a payment by a person having ;^200 
 a year would exhibit. By the deed of separation Lady 
 Lytton was to possess in her own right any property she 
 then had or might acquire thereafter, which has been chiefly 
 from her publications — in some cases remunerative, but in 
 others miserable failures. She has been severely censured 
 for the bitterness displayed in some of her writings, but 
 perhaps not altogether with justice. Let those who would 
 condemn the use of harsh language just learn under what 
 circumstances it has been used ; and if they find the 
 author's life has been one of excessive trial and suffering — 
 that she has either been compelled to quit, or has felt it 
 imperatively necessary to flee from, the house of her 
 husband — that from a position of pecuniary ease she has 
 been cast down to a condition of humiliating poverty — that 
 instead of her society being courted by numerous 'friends,' 
 whose acts of kindness caused her days to pass lightly and 
 happily, she is shunned by most of them as no longer 
 worthy of their regard — that while her husband still moves 
 among the gayest and noblest of society, she remains the 
 occupant of two small rooms in a country hotel — if they 
 make in her case the allowance which such an accumula- 
 tion of woes and miseries ought to ensure, they will not 
 fail to be very sparing of censure ; they will hardly 
 express surprise, perhaps, at the display of ill-feeling, 
 however bitter or general it may be. When a person 
 is treated as an Isiimael, it is not to be wondered at if 
 he regards himself as such ; and the best of tempers will 
 
3l6 LIFE OF LADY LYTTOX. 
 
 at last be soured and ruined by constant irritation and 
 suffering." 
 
 Then follows a narrative of Lady Lytton's visit 
 to Hertford election, of Dr. Thomson's appearance 
 at Taunton, and of Lady Lytton's deportation to 
 Brentford, events which I have already chronicled. 
 The article continues : — 
 
 " We have said Lady Lytton's capture, and the circum- 
 stances connected with it, have caused a great degree of 
 excitement among the inhabitants of this town ; and if any 
 proof of this were called for, or any evidence of the opinion 
 generally entertained required, we could hardly give more 
 indubitable testimony than is contained in the following 
 resolutions, which were adopted at a meeting of inhabitants 
 called by a gentleman who, though a perfect stranger to 
 Lady Lytton, felt that a monstrous injustice had been 
 inflicted upon her, and determined to use the very con- 
 siderable influence he possessed to obtain her freedom if 
 really not insane, or at least to force on such an inquiry 
 into her mental condition as to satisfy the public that she 
 is not in a fit state to be at liberty. The gentleman in 
 question arrived in this town only a day or two before the 
 case came to his knowledge ; and immediately upon becom- 
 ing acquainted with it he proceeded into the street, called 
 together such of the more influential inhabitants as he 
 met, and within an hour the meeting took place. After 
 a discussion of the subject, the resolutions were thrown 
 into the following form : — 
 
 '"At a meeting of certain inhabitants of Taunton and 
 the neighbourhood, held at Clarke's Hotel on the 6th 
 of July, 1858, Mr. Hitchcock in the chair, it was re- 
 solved : — 
 
 "'On the motion of Captain Jones, seconded by R. 
 Easton, Esq. — 
 
 "'I. That the removal of Lady Bulwer Lytton to a 
 lunatic asylum, or other place of confinement, and the 
 circumstances under which she was incarcerated therein, 
 
AN INDIGNATION MEETING. 317 
 
 call for a public expression of alarm for the rights and 
 liberties of the subject, and particularly of distrust of 
 the treatment to which her Ladyship is said to have been 
 subjected. 
 
 " ' 2. That a committee be now appointed to watch the 
 result of the extraordinary measures reported to have been 
 adopted in Lady Lytton's case, to the end that the public 
 mind may be satisfied, through their report, that in her 
 Ladyship's case justice may be done. — W. R. HITCHCOCK. 
 " ' The meeting was then adjourned for a week.' 
 " Here we will leave this miserable tale ; but we are 
 anxious, before closing our remarks, to avow that in taking 
 it upon ourselves to set it before the public, we are actuated 
 only by a sense of duty and justice. For the truth of the 
 narrative, we can refer to the lady who accompanied Lady 
 Lytton to London ; the details are given as they were 
 furnished to us — without exaggeration or distortion. If 
 her Ladyship's mind is in such a state that she is a fit 
 subject for a lunatic asylum, and an asylum is the only 
 suitable place for her, no harm can come from the publicity 
 we give to her case ; if not, then much good must inevitably 
 arise from its publicity, to her chiefly, and in an immea- 
 surable degree, but also to society in no unimportant 
 measure. The whole question is, of course. Is Lady 
 Lytton actually insane .'' We have said, from what we 
 have seen and heard of her, she is not ; and this view is 
 entertained by all we have heard express any opinion on 
 the subject. It is a question of deep importance whether 
 it is not utterly wrong, and most dangerous to the liberties 
 of individuals, that upon the word of two medical men 
 persons may be taken to a madhouse, when, if not already 
 insane, they are undoubtedly placed in circumstances in 
 every way calculated, by their horrible and frightful 
 character, to destroy reason and produce insanity. We 
 say nothing of their continued confinement, but of their 
 being consigned to such a place even for a moment. On 
 every account a power of such awful magnitude should 
 be destroyed, and confinement in a lunatic asylum be 
 possible only after a public inquiry, similar to that which 
 
3l8 LIFE OF LADV LVTTON. 
 
 must precede the committal of a person accused of felony 
 to the common gaol. Society in general demands this ; 
 helpless women require it ; and if there are any individuals 
 for the sake of whose character and reputation before the 
 world the change should be made, they are those who 
 occupy such a position as Sir Edward Lytton now holds 
 in her Majesty's Government. As a Secretary of State, 
 he, as is well known, exercises great authority in such 
 cases ; and men so highly stationed can always find ready 
 tools for any work, however nefarious. It is right, then, 
 that suspicion against them should be rendered impossible, 
 that no reasonable person should have ground for the 
 supposition that they have committed or connived at an 
 atrocity at which the body shudders and the mind is 
 appalled. It is true that investigation into cases like that 
 of Lady Lytton is compelled when demanded by the 
 friends of the incarcerated person ; but the system is alto- 
 gether contrary to the general equity of British laws and 
 customs. To send to a madhouse a person suspected of 
 lunacy, and afterwards institute an inquiry whether he is 
 mad or not, is a mode of procedure very unworthy of a 
 civilised nation, and one which the people of this country 
 ought no longer to endure. Lady Lytton's case will no 
 doubt have the effect of drawing general attention to this 
 great anomaly, and probably it will tend in a great measure 
 to the accomplishment of ths desired change. Heaven 
 grant it may be so ! " 
 
 The Daily Telegraph also took up the injured 
 lady's cause with justifiable warmth, as will be seen 
 from the appended article of July 15th, 1858. 
 
 ''Daily Telegraph^' July i^th, 1858. 
 " Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton has succeeded in hushing 
 up the scandal of his wife's arrest and conveyance to a 
 madhouse at Brentford. The matters in dispute, so say 
 the persons interested, will be arranged to the satisfaction 
 of all concerned. For the sake of the lady herself, the 
 public will rejoice that such a compromise has been extorted 
 
THE "DAILY TELEGRAPH." 319 
 
 from the Secretary of State ; if the victim be content, no 
 one has a right to complain, but it must be remembered 
 that Sir Buhver Lytton alone has gained by the suppres- 
 sion of inquiry. We are now told that he will seal a 
 treaty of perpetual truce with the woman who was, appa- 
 rently under his instruction, dragged by policemen into 
 a carriage, hurried to a lunatic asylum, and there compelled 
 to sign a compact of forbearance towards the individual 
 by whom, according to her statement, she had been grossly 
 and flagitiously wronged. It is with pleasure we record 
 that this ignominious family war has been terminated, 
 and the accusation of insanity has been abandoned ; that 
 Lady Lytton is confessedly qualified to treat with her 
 husband upon terms of equality. Justice may boast of a 
 triumph, for though it would have been more satisfactory 
 to have forced the entire transaction before an authentic 
 tribunal, it may suffice to know that popular opinion has 
 driven Lord Derby's choice and brilliant colleague into a 
 virtual surrender. It matters little whether Sir Bulwer 
 Lytton, under Cabinet influence, has found it necessary 
 to save the reputation of the Government as well as his 
 own, but it is not to be forgotten that he employed 
 attorneys, nurses, and policemen to capture his wife ; that 
 she was forcibly consigned to a lunatic asylum ; that 
 medical certificates were obtained to prove her insanity ; 
 and that now, an explosion of national feeling having taken 
 place, she is to be released, and allowed to live in personal 
 independence. 
 
 "All that now remains for investigation is who and 
 what the professional gentlemen were who handed over 
 this lady to the keepers of a madhouse, v.'hether she was 
 sane at the time of her capture, and whether she was not 
 kidnapped by the myrmidons of her flattered and suc- 
 cessful husband. Individually she may benefit by the 
 compromise, though it may be that a salutary exposure 
 has been stifled. On one point the public are agreed : the 
 power at present exercised under the lunacy law of Eng- 
 land is dangerous to social liberty. Any one, by obtaining 
 the certificate of two medical men, may imprison wife, 
 
320 IJFK OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 child, or other relative for years, perhaps for life, in a mad- 
 house. The Lunacy Commissioners, we are reminded, may 
 interfere with its machinery of visitors' inspections and 
 reports, but what is the result ? Men might be named 
 who open establishments of this character, accumulate 
 fortunes, and live in affluence, and are pointed at by their 
 neighbours as the creatures of conspiracy. Their resi- 
 dences are nobly furnished, their grounds rival those of 
 the nobility, and when official visitors, after sumptuous 
 luncheons, pass their patients in review, and an exasperated 
 captive pours forth his vehement denunciations, ' they 
 write him down mad,' and the wretch is left for another 
 year, to be goaded by a sense of wrong, wrought upon by 
 the contagious presence of insanity, and at length made 
 all that his officious friends desire him to be. Without 
 casting a general slur upon a body of men many of whom 
 are highly respectable, we may state it as the conviction 
 of those who stand above all prejudice in their profession, 
 that the lunatic asylums of this country are frequently 
 applied to the same uses as the Bastille, where the Man 
 in the Iron Mask was immured for life and buried in 
 secrecy because his pretensions were considered dangerous 
 by claimants to estates and titles, or perpetrators of un- 
 searched crimes. 
 
 "But a social question of far more universal importance 
 is connected with the deplorable disclosure in the case of 
 Sir Bulvver Lytton. The baronet's wife may be released 
 from the terrible captivity to which, by the practical con- 
 fession of her persecutors, she never ought to have been 
 for a moment consigned, and from which we have made 
 no unsuccessful effort to deliver her ; but what of humbler 
 persons ? What of the domestic victims in whose name 
 no publicity is invoked ? We hear of jealous and bitter- 
 tongued women, of outcast wives, who go down to bury 
 their humiliation in the shade of equivocal watering-places, 
 of ladies whose ' fashionable ' manners shock the propriety 
 of German spas ; but when these scandals are the popular 
 table-talk, in the name of justice let the woman be con- 
 sidered. The lord and the lady, the baronet and his wife, 
 
MR. LYTTON S VERSION. 32 I 
 
 the parents of children, do they stand in the eyes of the 
 world upon a level ? We hear of a man who has been 
 compelled to part with the mother of his children, and we 
 know that while she goes into retirement, with her happi- 
 ness blasted in her declining years, his car of triumph 
 rolls on, he is still the ornament and delight of society. 
 But when the forsaken woman glides into the shadow of 
 suspicion, who cares to remind us that a cluster of children 
 call her mother ; that twenty years of married life should 
 have made her sacred ; that even her failings should have 
 been holy to her husband ; that bitterness itself is pardon- 
 able when it rises from the fountains of love ; that what 
 by the triumphing ' lord of the creation ' is termed * incom- 
 patibility' may be nothing more than the satiety of a 
 selfish affection ? If manliness, if chivalry, if the noble 
 principles of honour dominated more supremely than they 
 do in the circles of our English life, would these published 
 separations so continually feed the mass of scandal to the 
 detriment of names once invoked in confidence and affection 
 at the altar ? Let cynicism utter what it will, let irony 
 do its worst, let men affect to despise the heart-born 
 passions, the chief happiness of every human being is at 
 home ; neither Church, nor State, nor military glory, nor 
 political conflict can destroy the supremacy of that instinct 
 which makes joy itself a virtue — the pride of an honest 
 man in his family. How implacable then must the anti- 
 pathy be that breaks these consecrated bonds ; how utterly 
 exhausted and callous must be the affection that permits 
 this last repudiation of a moral tie, linking children with 
 children, and teaching those children to reverence their 
 parents." 
 
 In ansv^er to these damaging statements, Mr. 
 Robert Lytton wrote to the Daily Telegraph on 
 July 17th. 
 
 To the Editor of the "Daily Telegraph'^ 
 
 " Sir,— 
 
 "As the son of Lady Bulwer Lytton, with the 
 
 21 
 
322 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 best right to speak on her behalf, and so obviously with 
 the best means of information as to warrant the hope that 
 my simple assertion will be at once believed in the matter 
 to which I am compelled to refer, I beg to say that the 
 statements which have appeared in some of the public 
 journals are exaggerated and distorted, and that they are 
 calculated to convey to the public mind impressions the 
 most erroneous and unjust. As was natural, I put myself 
 into constant communication with my mother, and with 
 the gentleman in whose family, in his private house, she 
 was placed (for I beg distinctly to state she was never 
 for a moment taken to a lunatic asylum) ; and I carried 
 out the injunctions of my father, who confided to me 
 implicitly every arrangement which my affection could 
 suggest, and enjoined me to avail myself of the advice of 
 Lord Shaftesbury in whatever was judged best and kindest 
 for Lady Lytton. 
 
 " My mother is now with me, free from all restraint, and 
 about, at her own wish, to travel for a short time, in 
 company with myself and a female friend and relation, of 
 her own selection. 
 
 " From the moment my father felt compelled to authorise 
 those steps which have been made the subject of so much 
 misrepresentation, the anxiety was to obtain the most 
 experienced and able physician, in order that my mother 
 should not be subject to restraint for one moment longer 
 than was strictly justifiable. Such was his charge to 
 me. 
 
 " The certificates given by Dr. Forbes Winslow and Dr. 
 Connolly are subjoined, and I ought to add that Dr. 
 Connolly was the physician whom my father had requested 
 to see Lady Lytton, that Dr. Forbes Winslow was con- 
 sulted by my mother's legal advisers, and I felt anxious 
 to obtain the additional authority of the opinion of the 
 latter gentleman, and requested my friend, Mr. Edwin 
 James, to place himself in communication with him. I 
 trust that such journals as have given publicity to partial 
 and inaccurate statements will do me the justice to publisli 
 this communication, to which I need add no more than to 
 
THE doctor's story. 323 
 
 say that this painful matter has been arranged, as it ought 
 to be, by the members of the family whom it exclusively 
 regards. 
 
 " I have the honour to be, sir, 
 
 " Your most obedient servant, 
 
 "Robert B. Lytton. 
 " I, Park Lane, July 17th, 1858." 
 
 [Copy No. I.] 
 
 "To Edwin James, Esq., O.C. 
 
 " Having at your request examined Lady B. Lytton 
 this day as to her state of mind, I beg to report to you 
 that in my opinion it is such as to justify her liberation 
 from restraint. 
 
 " I think it but an act of justice to Sir Edward B. Lytton 
 to state that upon the facts which I have ascertained were 
 submitted to him, and upon the certificates of the medical 
 men* whom he was advised to consult, the course which 
 he has pursued throughout these painful proceedings cannot 
 be considered harsh or unjustifiable. 
 " I remain, sir, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 "Forbes Winslow, M.D., D.C.L. 
 "23, Cavendish Square, July i6th, 1858." 
 
 [Copy No. 2.] 
 
 "London, y^uly i^th, 1858. 
 "Sir,— 
 
 " Notwithstanding the decided opinion which I 
 felt it my duty to express with reference to Lady Lytton, 
 after my visit to her at the private residence of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Hill, and which, I need not repeat, justified the course 
 you adopted, I have much satisfaction in hearing of the 
 arrangements which have been made for her Ladyship 
 
 * The " medical men " here referred to are Mr. Ross, an apothe- 
 cary, of Farringdon Street, City, and Mr. Hale Thomson, of 
 Clarges Street, formerly connected with the Westminster Hospital. 
 
324 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 leaving their family in the society of her son and her female 
 friend. 
 
 '* I have the honour to be, sir, 
 
 " Very faithfully, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 "G. Connolly, M.D." 
 
 It is necessary to bear in mind that Lady Lytton 
 never saw this letter of her son's, nor ever heard of 
 it until long after her departure from England.* 
 
 Neither was she aware that Mr. Hyde had written 
 the remarkable letter to the editor of the Hei^tford 
 Mercury which ran as follows : — 
 
 "33, Ely Place, /^/j' igt/i, 1858. 
 
 " Sir — 
 
 " As the legal adviser of Lady Bulwer Lytton, I am 
 fully authorised to state that the family arrangements 
 which are about to terminate the differences between Sir 
 Edward Bulwer Lytton and my client are in every respect 
 satisfactory ; and I feel it due to Sir Edward B. Lytton to 
 add that explanations have been given which have entirely 
 removed any impression that his conduct was dictated by 
 any feeling of harshness or severity towards Lady Lytton. 
 I believe it to be most consonant with the feelings and most 
 compatible with the future welfare of Lady Lytton that 
 these private misunderstandings should cease to be the sub- 
 ject of public discussion. 
 
 " I am, sir, 
 
 " Yours, etc., 
 
 "Charles Hyde." 
 
 But the explanations of Mr. Lytton and Mr. Hyde 
 do not seem to have been universally accepted as 
 
 * On her return to England, Lady Lytton writes to Mrs. Curteis 
 Whelan, November 3rd, 1858, "Had I but seen that tissue of lies 
 (which they took care I should not see), neither force nor fraud 
 should have got me out of England." 
 
THE "DAILY TELEGRAPH." 325 
 
 conclusive. The following letter appeared in a sub- 
 sequent issue of the Daily Telegraph : — 
 
 " To the Editor of the ' Daily Telegraph.* 
 
 " Sir,— 
 
 "Thanks to you for your noble and eloquent 
 defence of Lady Lytton, and the outrage on public justice 
 perpetrated by her husband. Your watchfulness may have 
 been rendered unnecessary by the family 'arrangement' 
 which has been announced ; but Heaven help Lady 
 Lytton, travelling abroad under the guardianship of such 
 ' affection,' with the stigma of insanity upon her, available 
 for any purpose. 
 
 "The letter of Mr. Robert Lytton explains nothing, 
 answers nothing. It does not even show where his mother 
 is. He writes — 'My mother is now with me, free from all 
 restraint.' This letter is dated i, Park Lane, the town re- 
 sidence of Sir Bulwer Lytton, who is now in London. 
 Does Mr. Lytton mean to say that his mother is or was 
 on Saturday last under the roof of her husband .-' There 
 is more than meets the eye in this. Is Lady Lytton free 
 from all restraint .-* Whatever the ' arrangement ' is, it was 
 made when she was in durance, and not a free agent ; and if 
 that arrangement has taken her from the custody of Mr. 
 Hill, of Brentford, to that of her own son and husband, it 
 is only that her prison-house has been changed. ' From 
 the moment my father felt compelled to authorise those 
 steps which have been made the subject of so much mis- 
 representation, etc., in order that my mother should not 
 be subject to restraint for one moment longer than was 
 strictly justifiable, such was his charge to me.' If Sir 
 Edward was so solicitous to procure the opinions of the 
 most able physicians, we may ask how it happened, in- 
 stead of consulting Dr. Forbes Winslow and Dr. Connolly 
 in the first instance, that he employed a Mr. Thomson 
 to kidnap the lady at his own residence. Mr. Lytton says 
 the statements are ' exaggerated ' and ' distorted,' but he 
 does not explain how. He says he has the best right to 
 speak on behalf of his mother, and has the ' best means of 
 
326 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 information,' and that his assertion will be at once believed. 
 It is hard to refuse this to a son, and in ordinary cases one 
 would not feel inclined to do so ; but he seems to have 
 acted entirely under the influence of the father, and to 
 have been from first to last so directly opposed to his 
 mother, that before we give him the credence he asks there 
 are several questions he ought to answer. Is it true he 
 has neither sought after nor corresponded with his mother, 
 nor even seen her, for nearly seventeen years, until he met 
 her at the hustings at Hertford, during the recent election 
 there .'' Is it true that on that occasion he made the 
 preliminary attempt which culminated at the house of Mr. 
 Thomson, in Clarges Street, to put his mother in a mad- 
 house by sending a physician to the house of the Mayor 
 of Hertford, where she was on a visit.'' Is it true that 
 when his mother was kidnapped in Clarges Street, and 
 Miss Ryves ran out into the street, and seeing Mr. Lytton 
 waiting outside, entreated him to interfere and procure 
 assistance to prevent his mother being carried off to Brent- 
 ford, he refused to have anything to do with the matter .'' 
 Other questions suggest themselves, not directly affecting 
 Mr, Lytton, but important to an understanding of this 
 painful case. He says, ' I put myself in constant com- 
 munication with my mother. ... I carried out the in- 
 junctions of my father, who confided in me implicitly, . . . 
 enjoined me to avail myself of the advice of Lord Shaftes- 
 bury in whatever was judged best and kindest for Lady 
 Lytton.' Is this a solemn farce, a piece of well-acted hypo- 
 crisy, or a truth in letter and spirit ? Is it conceivable 
 that Sir Edward Lytton, not having set eyes on his wife 
 for seventeen years, and leaving her to live and suffer 
 and complain during all that time on ^^^400 a year, suddenly 
 became so tenderly solicitous on her behalf, as to require 
 ' all that was best and kindest ' should be done for her ? 
 Why is Lord Shaftesbury introduced .'' Is it to give the 
 shelter of his sanctity to a cruel outrage ? Mephistopheles 
 might envy the genius which suggested the mention of 
 Lord Shaftesbury as the adviser and referee of Sir Bulwer 
 Lytton. 
 
THE "DAILY TELEGRAPH." 327 
 
 " The certificates appended to Mr. Lytton's letter are 
 not properly 'certificates ;' they are intended as apologies 
 for the conduct of Sir Bulwer Lytton. But though put 
 forward with this view, they substantiate that the state of 
 Lady Lytton's mind 'is such as to justify her liberation 
 from restraint,' and prove nothing to his honour. It is 
 easy to see that the ' certificate ' of Dr. Forbes Winslow 
 is but an answer to certain questions put by Mr. Edwin 
 James, who was strangely employed by Mr. Lytton, and 
 whose object was to extract from the doctor everything 
 that he could on behalf of Sir Edward. On this part of 
 the question we are all competent to form an opinion, and 
 if it should appear that the facts submitted to Sir Edward 
 were facts suggested by himself, and the medical men, on 
 whose certificates he acted, were employed by him, which 
 is the fact, Dr. Forbes Winslow's opinion upon this part of 
 the question goes for nothing. 
 
 " The more inquiries we make into the matter the more 
 convinced we are that a great wrong was attempted, and 
 has now been glossed over. That wrong was not done to 
 Lady Lytton alone, but to all society. Her wrath may 
 have been appeased, her personal wounds may have re- 
 ceived a plaster, and her friends may have been flattered 
 and cajoled into silence, but is the public satisfied, or has 
 the wrong to society been atoned for, while the case of 
 Lady Lytton remains uninvestigated, and the conduct of 
 her husband escapes official and public censure ? Is any 
 one of us safe so long as the law permits the * next of kin ' 
 to do what has been done to her ? 
 
 "An Englishman." 
 
 And on the 21st of July, the Daily Telegraph re- 
 turned to the charge. 
 
 ''Daily Telegraphl' July 21st, 1858. 
 
 " We return unwillingly, and, we trust, for the last time, 
 to the melancholy scandal in which Sir Bulwer Lyttoa 
 has involved himself It had been our intention not to 
 carry further this painful controversy, yet additional ex 
 
328 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 planations are extorted from us by the peculiar tactics, 
 not only of particular individuals, but of some among our 
 contemporaries. There have been allusions to ' misrepre- 
 sentations ' contained in ' paragraphs,' and ' exaggerated 
 and distorted statements,' circulated with reference to the 
 lady who a few days since was spirited away by stratagem 
 to Brentford. Now in respect of the persons principally 
 concerned, nothing more need be said ; if the Right Hon. 
 Secretary for the Colonies has effected a settlement 
 agreeable to his conscience and his wife, none has a right 
 to interfere ; if the electors of Hertford are satisfied, the 
 general public has perhaps little reason to complain ; and 
 if legality and justice are not to be permanently outraged, 
 we rejoice that family negotiations have been successful. 
 Yet there are points connected with our own position 
 which should be clearly set forth. The vague and solemn 
 rebukes that have been set forth were addressed almost 
 exclusively to ourselves, not of paragraphs, but of articles 
 based upon a well-prepared narrative published in a pro- 
 vincial journal, no one assertion of which to the present 
 moment has been invalidated. But if there has been 
 ' exaggeration,' if there has been ' falsity,' who was the 
 person and what was the time to correct them .■" The 
 proper individual was the son of Sir Bulwer Lytton him- 
 self; and the proper time was upon one of the occasions 
 when, since the exposure in our columns, he called at the 
 Daily Telegraph office, sometimes not alone. Did we hear 
 then anything about ' distortion ' or ' misrepresentation ' ^ 
 Most certainly not a word. Mr. Robert Lytton acted then 
 as the champion of his mother, and not he only, but her 
 personal friends also, appeared delighted that upon public 
 grounds an appeal had been made bearing so directly 
 upon their private interests. Then, we think, was the 
 moment for substituting accurate for erroneous impressions ; 
 but since this retort is forced upon us, what if we suggest 
 that the original case was not one to be explained away } 
 Lady Lytton was by no means the person interested in 
 a concealment of the facts or in hushing up the affair 
 before it was dragged before a Commission of Lunacy. W 
 
THE "DAILY TELEGRAPH." 329 
 
 are now told, indeed, that the baronet was satisfied in the 
 course he adopted, which we have never pretended to 
 deny, for we have insisted only on inquiry. We asked 
 whether the allegations against him were true, and we 
 pointed out the impossibility of allowing a public man to 
 remain under an imputation so scathing, and we expressed 
 our hope that the sinister rumours afloat would be set at 
 rest by an ample vindication of the Privy Councillor's 
 conduct Is it our fault, then, that no such vindication 
 has been attempted, that Sir Bulwer Lytton has preferred 
 a private arrangement, that he has defied the written 
 opinion of two professional men, and allowed his so-called 
 insane wife to be once more at large upon terms to which 
 he had previously refused his consent ? Nothing would 
 have been more satisfactory to ourselves and the public 
 than that Lord Derby's colonial secretary, after a strict 
 judicial investigation, should have demonstrated himself 
 a man of honour, incapable of kidnapping an obnoxious 
 wife. 
 
 " But upon whose authority was Lady Lytton captured 
 and sent to Brentford ? Not originally, as has been stated, 
 upon that of Dr. Connolly. The certificates were signed 
 by a Mr. Hale Thomson, once known at Westminster 
 Hospital, and by a Mr. Ross, an apothecary of Farringdon 
 Street, whose medical reputation seems to have travelled 
 providentially from east of Temple Bar to an official re- 
 sidence in Downing Street. The sanction of these 'eminent ' 
 gentlemen enabled the policemen and nurses to place 
 Lady Lytton by force in a carriage, but through a humane 
 after-thought, Dr. Connolly was ultimately called in and 
 despatched to the residence of Mr. Robert Gardiner Hill, 
 at Brentford. There he certified that Lady Lytton was 
 a demented patient. There, however, Dr. Forbes Winslow, 
 within a day or two, certified, in singularly cautious and 
 ambiguous terms, that she was not a demented patient, 
 she was, in fact, fit and unfit to live without restraint, and 
 the result is that, with her son and a female relation, she 
 is to enjoy a Continental tour. At all events, it is gratifying 
 to know that whatever has been the effect on the lady's 
 
330 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 nerves, she has been benefited by the public discussion 
 of her case. Instead of the Brentford process, she will 
 sojourn at the spas, and Florentine gaiety may compensate 
 her for three weeks of Middlesex gloom under the lunacy 
 law. 
 
 " Concerning the Brentford question, Mr. Robert Gardiner 
 Hill is pleased to think himself aggrieved. We may remark 
 that Mr. Hill claims to have penetrated the secrets of 
 physiological science. That he is not the proprietor of a 
 'notorious madhouse' we will admit, if he will allow that 
 he is the principal of a ' celebrated lunatic asylum.' 
 
 " What consolation would it be to any of our readers, if 
 falsely accused of insanity, that a ' lunatic asylum,' and 
 not a 'madhouse,' shuts its doors upon them.'' Would a 
 paltry verbal quibble reconcile them to captivity among 
 maniacs and the mentally afflicted ? He is among the 
 proprietors, he confesses, of Wyke House, which, if he will 
 not permit us to describe it as ' notorious,' is at least well 
 known as a madhouse, or, if the term be offensive, of a 
 lunatic asylum. 
 
 " Though not standing alone in this controversy, we 
 have been solitary among the organs of the press in claiming 
 a public inquiry on behalf of Lady Lytton. In our main 
 object we have succeeded. The 'patient' is no longer in 
 legal or in medical clutches. Her position has totally 
 changed since the protest of public indignation rose against 
 the treatment to which she had been subject. The Taunton 
 people are satisfied that a great wrong is not to be per- 
 petrated, and Lady Lytton's friends, who rejoiced in the 
 original exposure, are now at liberty to be as ungrateful 
 as they please. They will not induce us, at all events, to 
 state whence our information was derived, or how far the 
 right honourable baronet is indebted to themselves for the 
 publication of a monstrous scandal. But it was due to 
 ourselves, to our readers, and to the innumerable corre- 
 spondents whose letters we have felt it necessary to sup- 
 press, to remind Mr. Robert Lytton and his colleagues in 
 the negotiation just concluded, that they have to thank 
 the press for the publicity which spared them the painful 
 
THE "DAILY TELEGRAPH." 33 I 
 
 alternative of a judicial investigation. It fell to us, fortun- 
 ately, to produce a movement of public opinion in favour 
 of Lady Lytton ; and it is not for her personal advocates 
 to blame the persistency with which we have followed it 
 to its final issue. Least of all, whatever gracelessness 
 may be exhibited in Park Lane, do we regret a course of 
 proceedings without which, in all probability, the wife of 
 Sir Bulwer Lytton might have been still, and possibly for 
 the rest of her life, subject to the galling tendernesses of 
 our asylums for lunatics." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 LADY LYTTON IN FRANCE. — HER RETURN TO ENGLAND. 
 
 I WILL now resume my account of Lady Lytton's 
 journey from her letters to Dr. Price. 
 
 " Hotel de France, Bordeaux, Aug. dth, 1858. 
 " Daily and hourly I wish for you in this delicious 
 climate and paradise of fruits and flowers. We only stayed 
 a week in Paris, and have some thoughts of going on to 
 Madrid." 
 
 '■'■Aug. 2isi, 1858. 
 
 " I scrawl these few lines in great haste, as we leave this 
 to-day, but all our plans of going to St. Sebastian and 
 Madrid were suddenly changed yesterday, for I grieve to 
 tell you that poor dear Robert has been so ill from the 
 terrible excitement before we left England and the equally 
 trying pleasurable reaction, that yesterday his doctor 
 peremptorily forbade his encountering the discomforts of 
 Spanish travelling, and ordered him to the baths of 
 Lucnon, in the south of France. . . . You may guess, there- 
 fore, how anxious I am to get to Luchon." 
 
 "Bagn^res de Luchon, Aux Pyrenees, 
 
 "Hotel Bonne Maison, Atig. 3U/, 1858. 
 
 " We arrived here safely last Monday week, and Robert, 
 I am happy to say, is, thank God, much better already, 
 as he gets up at six, takes his bath at half-past, drinks the 
 waters (an exaggeration upon those of Harrogate, so you 
 may guess how nice they are !), returns to bed, breakfasts 
 at ten. About two I beat him up a couple of new-laid 
 eggs, with some sherry and hot water ; he then walks, rides, 
 or drives out with us, and most lovely the rides and drives 
 
LIFE AT LUCHON. 333 
 
 are, more especially the former. We dine at seven, and to 
 bed at ten, a regimen that agrees with him admirably. 
 This is one of the most charming and original nooks you 
 can imagine, at the foot of the vine-clad and purple Pyre- 
 nees ; at least, I never saw anything like it. You come 
 upon it from a gorge of the mountains, and do not see it 
 till you are in it. Luchon itself consists of a long avenue, 
 about a mile and a half long, of gigantic and umbrageous 
 limetrees, with rows of gay-looking booths of toys, clothes, 
 fruit, confectionery, jewellery, etc., decorated with bright 
 flags and garlands of flowers, which give it the air of a 
 perpetual fair. The houses are picturesque in the extreme, 
 being built like Swiss chalets and snow-white, with gold- 
 coloured broad wooden balconies and verandahs. Gardens 
 the most luxuriant are spread out all over the place, lite- 
 rally like a carpet, while the Pyrenees encircle and rise 
 above them like a screen. At the end of this lime avenue, 
 near this hotel, is an amphitheatre of white Doric columns ; 
 this is the Baths. The picturesquely dressed Spanish 
 pedlars, displaying their Barcelona silks and Aragon hats, 
 the bells of the muleteers, the constant and really musical 
 cracking of the whips of the mountain guides, the bands of 
 music, the gaily attired ladies promenading about from 
 morning till night, dress the place with an eternal holiday 
 look. The fruit — figs, peaches, melons, mountain or wood 
 strawberries, and grapes — are in profusion, the latter, large 
 black ones, only three sous a pound ; but with all this, the 
 cuisine is so bad that I often long to be back at Taunton, 
 dining tete-d-tcte with my dear Dr. Price, which, if you 
 knew how thoroughly happy I am, you would say was very 
 good of me; for my dear boy is never tired of repeating to 
 me that I am now his sole object in life, and, God knows, 
 his every act proves it." 
 
 This is, unfortunately, the last letter which the 
 poor lady wrote in so happy a frame of mind. Very 
 shortly afterwards disagreements arose between 
 mother and son. She discovered that she had 
 been deceived, and that her letter requesting Lord 
 
3 34 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Shaftesbury to become one of her trustees had 
 never been sent to him, though before she left the 
 asylum her son informed her that Lord Shaftes- 
 bury had consented. Mr. Lytton suddenly left his 
 mother at Luchon. She saw him once more in 
 Paris on her journey home, and there mother and 
 son parted, never to meet again. She returned to 
 Taunton on October 23rd, 1858, going back, of 
 course, to her staunch friend Mrs. Clarke, at the 
 Giles Castle Hotel. 
 
 " The good people of Taunton," she writes, " when they 
 heard I was to return safe and sound, wanted to give me a 
 triumphal entry from the station. I wrote, however, to 
 Mrs. Clarke to say how grateful I felt, and always should 
 feel, to them for their great kindness and zeal on my be- 
 half, but that they would greatly add to their kindness if 
 they would allow me to return to them as quietly as pos- 
 sible — I was so far from well." 
 
 It was not until her return to Taunton that she 
 found out that Mr. Hyde had been throughout the 
 recent negotiations much more anxious to shield 
 Sir Edward's reputation than to extract from him 
 good terms for herself, that her debts were not even 
 yet paid, owing to the shuffling delays of Mr. Edwin 
 James, who acted no doubt by the express direc- 
 tions of his patron, and that a final settlement of 
 her affairs upon a satisfactory basis was almost as 
 far off as ever. She saw, moreover, for the first 
 time the letters of her son and of Mr. Hyde to 
 the newspapers, which were calculated to give an 
 entirely false impression of the circumstances attend- 
 ing her trip abroad. 
 
 The result of Lady Lytton's discoveries was em- 
 
LETTER TO LORD SHAFTESBURY. 335 
 
 bodied in a letter to Lord Shaftesbury, from which 
 I append extracts. 
 
 "Taunton, Oct.2^th, 1S5S. 
 
 "My Lord,— 
 
 " Having returned to England on Saturday, I have 
 this moment seen, for the first time, a letter in the Times, 
 bearing date the 17th of last July, signed by my son, and, 
 therefore, purporting to be written by him and advised 
 by your Lordship. I sincerely hope, in justice to you both, 
 that these statements are utterly without foundation, as 
 this letter contains the most deliberate and utter lies. The 
 truth of the iniquitous transaction is this. From a sick-bed, 
 to which I was brought by the crowning outrage of an 
 incarceration in the house of a mad doctor, at the end of 
 twenty years of fabulous villainy and persecution, I was 
 half bullied, half cajoled, to leave the country, or rather 
 smuggled out of it, to patch up Sir E. B. Lytton's some- 
 what damaged reputation, and shield him from the storm 
 of public indignation his unparalleled cruelty to me had so 
 justly excited. I was assailed at the point where the 
 mother has no stronghold, the interest and the urgent appeals 
 of my child. Here I gave way. ... I now understand 
 why I was smuggled abroad in such electric telegraph 
 haste. It was that I might not see that cruel and cold- 
 blooded letter. I was also informed that your Lordship had 
 consented to being one of my trustees, but I learnt for the 
 first time at Bordeaux that you had never consented to 
 anything of the kind." 
 
 On the same subject, to Mrs. Curteis Whelan : — 
 
 "Tauxton, Nov. ^rd, 1858. 
 "Never believe that my poor calumniated boy wrote that 
 infamous letter which appeared in the papers on the 17th 
 of July.* It was the creditable joint production of the 
 ruffian Loaden and the Colonial Secretary's legal Mephis- 
 topheles, Mr. Edwin James, to which they dared to affix 
 
 * ]Mr. Lytton soon afterwards acknowledg-ed to his mother that he 
 wrote this letter. — L. D. 
 
336 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 poor Robert's name. Had I but seen that tissue of lies, 
 neither force nor fraud should have got me out of England, 
 and one of the greatest lies in it is that of Miss Ryves 
 being a relation of mine — a relationship which I never 
 heard of even from her till then ! As for my selecting her 
 to travel with me, I should far rather have been alone with 
 my son." 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 "Taunton, Nov. a,t/i, 1S58. 
 " I am sick — sick at heart. The day I arrived Mrs. 
 Clarke had to show them my letter of urgent entreaty that 
 there might be no public demonstration, and it was only 
 by main force that she prevented their ringing the bells 
 and drawing me from the station. But last Friday, the 
 first day I went out, they instantly set all the bells ringing; 
 and the crowd gathered and cried, ' God bless your Lady- 
 ship!' 
 
 ***** 
 
 " Poor Mr. Hyde's health totally incapacitates him from 
 business, added to which he has evidently been intoxicated 
 by the air of Downing Street and the blandishments of the 
 Colonial Secretary. Dr. Roberts was the only one who 
 had the sense to stand out that after so gross and irrepar- 
 able an outrage I ought at least to have double the paltry 
 ^£■500 I asked two years ago. Mr. Hyde was quite satis- 
 fied when the veracious Colonial Secretary told him that 
 he could not afford it, and never had the sense to say, or 
 rather to insist, that if he could pay Mr, Hill .^^1,000 for 
 incarcerating me for life in a madhouse, he certainly could 
 equally well afford to pay it to me for the rest of my 
 miserable existence. 
 
 " I left England under the solemn assurance that all my 
 debts, more especially Miss Dickenson's and the other 
 debts of honour, should be immediately paid, and the 
 beggarly ;^5oo a year settled upon me for my life. Well, 
 I return to England and find that, as usual, faith has been 
 broken with me. Mr. Hyde was sent down to Taunton in 
 hot haste to pay the tradespeople and try to stop their 
 
THE NEW DEED OF SEPARATION. 337 
 
 mouths, which it didn't, for they say that since the civil 
 wars, when the amiable Colonel Kirke broke faith with 
 his victims and shot them all down wholesale from the 
 windows of the White Hart, no affair, private or public, 
 has made such an indelible impression. Poor Miss Dicken- 
 son was paid the day after I arrived in England, and not 
 one of the other debts of honour has been paid yet, and 
 Dr. Roberts wrote me word yesterday that when Mr. Hyde 
 had drawn up the deed settling the ;^500 a year upon me 
 for my life, Sir Edward, by the advice of his lawyer — for 
 you know he always has some convenient scapegoat — 
 objected to the deed in totor 
 
 I here append a copy of the deed of October, 
 1858, of which mention has frequently been made 
 above. 
 
 "Deed of October ist, 1858. 
 
 "This indenture made 1st of October, one thousand 
 eight hundred and fifty-eight. Between the Right Hon. 
 Sir Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer Lytton, of 
 Knebworth Park, in the county of Hertfordshire, Baronet, 
 on the one part, and the Right Hon. Charles Tennyson 
 d'Eyncourt, of Bayons Manor, in the county of Lincoln, 
 and Edwin James, of the Inner Temple, London, Esq., 
 one of her Majesty's counsel, and John Roberts, of 75, 
 Grosvenor Street, in the parish of St. George, in the 
 county of Middlesex, doctor of medicine, of the other 
 part. 
 
 " WJiereas the within-named Eliza Barbara Bulwer, Sir 
 Francis Hastings Doyle, and Sir Thomas Geary Cullum 
 have all respectively departed this life, and the within- 
 named Edward G. E. L. B. Lytton hath since been created 
 a baronet and hath taken the surname of Lytton. And 
 whereas the said Sir Edward G. E. L. B. Lytton and Dame 
 Rosina Anne, his wife, still continue to live separate, as 
 heretofore, and the said Dame Rosina Anne Lytton applied 
 to the said Sir Edward G. E. L. B. Lytton that the allow- 
 ance for her maintenance should be increased from four 
 
 22 
 
338 TJFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 hundred pounds to five hundred pounds per annum, and 
 made payable during her life, and that debts she had con- 
 tracted during such separation, amounting to about three 
 thousand pounds, should be paid by the said Sir Edward 
 G. E. L. B. Lytton, which, for the comfort and better main- 
 tenance of his said wife, he had agreed to do on the under- 
 standing that he is in no way legally liable to pay such 
 debts, and in or towards liquidation of such debts hath 
 deposited with the said Edwin James the sum of two thou- 
 sand seven hundred and seventy-four pounds seventeen 
 shillings and fourpence, being the net proceeds of the sale 
 of an estate* in the county of Limerick belonging to the 
 said Rosina Anne Lytton, and which was many years since 
 sold with their joint consent. And whereas, for securing 
 the payment of the said annuity and for the considerations 
 aforesaid, the said Edward G. E. L. B. Lytton hath agreed 
 to enter into the covenants with the said Charles Tennyson 
 d'Eyncourt, Edwin James, and John Roberts as hereinafter 
 contained. Now this indenture witnesseth that in pursu- 
 ance and performance of the said agreement on the part of 
 the said Sir Edward G. E, L. B. Lytton, he, the said Sir 
 Edward G. E. L. B. Lytton, doth for himself, his heirs, 
 executors, and administrators, covenant, promise, and agree 
 with and to the said Charles Tennyson d'Eyncourt, Edwin 
 James, and John Roberts, and the survivor of them, and the 
 executors and administrators of such survivor, by these 
 presents in manner following, that is to say, that he, the 
 said Sir Edward G. E. L. B. Lytton, will well and truly 
 pay, or cause to be paid, unto the said Charles Tennyson 
 d'Eyncourt, Edwin James, and John Roberts, and the sur- 
 vivor of them, and the executors, administrators, or assigns 
 of such survivor, during the life of the said Dame Rosina 
 Anne Bulwer Lytton, or during the said separation, the 
 clear yearly sum of five hundred pounds of lawful money of 
 Great Britain, by even and equal quarterly payments on 
 the tenth day of October, the tenth day of January, the tenth 
 
 * Not an estate, for that my cousin, Mr. Bolton Massy, had 
 bought years before, but of a few acres appended to it, which he 
 wanted to enclose. — R. L. 
 
DEED OF SEPARATION. 3 39 
 
 day of April, and the tenth day of July in every year, and 
 shall and will make the first payment on the tenth of Octo- 
 ber now next ensuing the day of the date of these presents, 
 without deduction or abatement for income tax or any 
 other account whatsoever, upon the trusts within expressed 
 with regard to the four hundred pounds and in lieu and sub- 
 stitution thereof; and further that he, the said Sir Edward 
 G. E. L. B. Lytton, his heirs, executors, and administrators, 
 shall and will well and truly perform and keep all and 
 singular other the covenants, conditions, and agreements in 
 the within-written indenture on his and their parts to be 
 performed and observed, it being the intention of all parties 
 to this deed that the within indenture is not to be altered 
 or abrogated in any other respect than appears by this 
 deed. In witness whereof the said parties to these presents 
 have thereunto set their hands and seals the day and year 
 first above written. 
 
 "Edward George Earle Lytton 
 
 BuLWER Lytton. 
 "Charles Tennyson d'Eyncourt. 
 "Edwin James. 
 "John Roberts. 
 
 " Signed, sealed, and delivered by the above-named 
 John Roberts, in the presence of Chas. Hyde, 33, Ely Place. 
 
 " Signed, sealed, and delivered by the above-named 
 Edwin James, in the presence of Chas. O. Hyde, clerk to 
 Messrs. Hyde, solicitors, 33, Ely Place. 
 
 "Signed, sealed, and delivered by the above-named 
 Sir Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer Lytton, in 
 the presence of Wm. Hughes Brabant, Savile Place. 
 
 " Signed, sealed, and delivered by the above-named 
 Charles Tennyson d'Eyncourt, in the presence of Thos. S 
 Morrell, land agent, Tealby, Lincolnshire." 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 SIR Edward's letters. — lady lytton's embarrassed 
 condition owing to the non-payment of her 
 debts. 
 
 This deed, which merely provided for the payment 
 of Lady Lytton's debts out of the small fortune she 
 brought to her husband, and gave her the inadequate 
 income of ;{;500 a year, by no means put an end to her 
 troubles, as will appear from the following extracts 
 from her correspondence. 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 "Taunton, Jamiaiy 6th, 1859. 
 
 " I have at length got back my letters. They were 
 returned yesterday only, and the night before I had had 
 the expense of sending Captain Jones to London, he 
 having been the head of my July committee, a noble- 
 hearted chivalrous sailor, not to be tampered with. ... I 
 shall have all this expense for nothing, except that I shall 
 be glad of his having an opportunity of giving them a bit 
 of his mind." 
 
 These letters were two highly important and com- 
 promising epistles written by the late Lord Lytton 
 to his wife. They were handed to Miss Ryves by 
 Lady Lytton on the occasion of her visit to Dr. 
 
UNPAID DEBTS. 34 I 
 
 Thomson in Clarges Street, and she experienced 
 the greatest possible difficulty in recovering them.* 
 
 ' ' February i,th, i S59. 
 
 "Dear Dr. Roberts, — 
 
 " A letter from Mrs. Hyde informs me that 
 efforts are being made by Sir Edward Lytton and his 
 infamous myrmidon Mr. Edwin James to obtain the 
 deed securing me the beggarly iJ"500 a year for life, 
 and then vaunting Mr. Hyde's and your staunchness in 
 refusing to give it up. Truly Mr. Hyde might be struck 
 off the rolls for such a dastardly act, so of course he will 
 not dare to give it up. And, of course, you would never so 
 ruin yourself in your profession and in public opinion, as to 
 be accessory to having me swindled out of it while acting 
 as my trustee." 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 "■February 15//;, 1859. 
 
 " All faith has been broken with me, and the chief part 
 of my debts of honour, Mr. Wheeler's included, has not 
 been paid yet, which is done to injure and embroil me with 
 Mr. Wheeler and others." 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 ■' February 2Tth, 1S59. 
 
 " You are quite right. It is all a farce to fob me off with 
 about the creditors bringing an action against Mr. Edwin 
 James. No one but Sir Liar could do that, and therein 
 this contemptible quibble of these two ineffable vauriens 
 lies. As I have told that unscrupulous Mr. Edwin James, 
 he and his client are merely enacting the fable of the two 
 thieves in the cook's shop : the one who stole the piece of 
 meat, having passed it to his accomplice, when taxed with 
 the theft says, ' I have not got it,' while the other exclaims, 
 with characteristic truth, ' I did not take it,' but the cook, 
 not being a trustee, very soundly beat them both." 
 
 * Her legal right to them, however, was never disputed, — a fact 
 which has an important bearing upon Lord Lytton' s action against 
 me for their recovery, which was commenced in November 1884, 
 and is still pending. — L. D. 
 
342 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 '^ March 2nd, 1859. 
 
 " I don't believe that Sir Liar ever gave Mr. James the 
 money. He would have been the very first to fly at him 
 and go to law with him for breach of trust if he had. I 
 am very sure it is only an infamous quibble between them 
 to worry, annoy, and degrade me, and as for my breaking 
 faith, as I also told Dr. Roberts, that is all fudge, for he 
 must remember the faith-breaker is the one who first 
 violates a treaty, which Sir Liar did by, the moment he 
 smuggled me out of England, disseminating every imagin- 
 able lie about me, which he still continues to do, and, above 
 all, by the non-payment of my beggarly debts. I do hope, 
 however, that Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Errington, and Mr. Sandby 
 will lose no time in serving Mr. James with a writ, as Sir 
 Liar says he gave him the money." 
 
 To Mr. Edwin James. 
 
 " March %th, 1859. 
 
 " The remaining debts are, with Laurence the Quaker's 
 little bill of ;^4 yos., I think five in number instead of two, 
 i.e.^ those of Mr. Errington, Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Sandby, and 
 Mrs. Hardinge Tyler, the latter £a^^. As for the too con- 
 temptible quibble of the debts amounting to more than the 
 rough guess ' Lady Lytton made ' without pen and ink in 
 the presto-begone style in which I was esclandre last July 
 from the madhouse, that stupendous fact was duly an- 
 nounced to me as far back as August, 1858. . . . What on 
 earth have your false and most ill-judged allegations 
 against me of not keeping the gag in my mouth to do with 
 your oft-repeated and as oft-broken promises to pay the 
 remainder of my beggarly debts immediately, lastly fixing 
 on the I ith of January for so doing } And, above all, what 
 had they to do with the new act of this black and truly 
 infamous conspiracy, of which, Mr. Hyde being ill, his v/ife 
 warned me on the 1st of February in these words, * He 
 thinks you ought to be apprised of the strenuous efforts 
 which are being made to get from him the deed securing 
 you that ^^500 a year ' .-• I assure you, sir, I regret as 
 deeply or rather more deeply than any one the subversion 
 
A TIME-SERVER. 343 
 
 of my whole nature in being compelled to adopt such a 
 tone and such language to any one in the rank of a gentle- 
 man, more especially to a man of your splendid and in- 
 disputable talents, and holding what should be such an 
 honourable position in your profession, but desperate cases 
 require desperate remedies." 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 '• March l6tk, 1S59. 
 
 " The moment Dizzy's swindle of a Reform Bill gave its 
 first squeak I was amused to hear of the accelerated court a 
 certain set paid to Lord Palmerston, for it reminded me 
 forcibly of a story Smollett tells of an Englishman going 
 into the Campidoglio at Rome, and before the Pope and 
 a whole conclave of cardinals marching up to a bust of 
 Jupiter, and after making it a profound bow, saying very 
 solemnly, ' I hope, sir, if you ever get your head above 
 water again, you will remember that I paid my respects to 
 you in your adversity ! ' " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " March 2()th, 1859. 
 
 " I have this moment got back my letters. Dr. Roberts 
 preserves a hermetical silence to all my anxiously pressing 
 letters about the rest of the debts, so Heaven only knows 
 what they are or are not doing." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "■ April Wi, 1859. 
 " The remainder of my debts are not yet paid, and I 
 doubt if they ever will be, I told Mr. Hyde at the mad 
 doctor's house at a rough guess without pen and ink that 
 my debts would amount to from ;^ 2,500 to ;^ 3,000, no such 
 very monstrous sum -■' at the end of twenty years' ceaseless 
 and costly persecution on an irregularly paid stipend of 
 i^400 a year minus the income-tax ! Ever since last 
 
 * As a matter of fact, the sum in question was considerably less 
 than the fortune Lady Lytton brought to her husband at her mar- 
 riage, so the vaunted generosity of Sir Edward simply meant that he 
 paid her back her own money. — L. D. 
 
344 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 August Mr. Hyde has been blowing loud clarions about 
 his present patron's vast generosity, saying that though 
 my debts amounted to considerably more than the sum 
 named, Sir Edward had paid them without a murmur, the 
 truth being that these mighty debts are not paid yet, and 
 the sum total of their amount is £2,^60 los., just £260 
 more than the smaller sum I named and ^240 less than 
 the larger one." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "May^ih, 1859. 
 
 " Dr. Roberts writes me word that Sir E 's illness is 
 
 not all an electioneering sham, for it is neither more nor less 
 than that his brain and mind are seriously affected. What 
 a fearful retribution it would be if he ended his days in the 
 place where he incarcerated me ! Dr. Verity said twenty 
 years ago that he was as mad as Bedlam, when we were at 
 Naples." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " May 2<)t/t, 1859. 
 
 " I am going to London to-morrow for a month, having 
 much business, but the mad woman is determined to show 
 herself everywhere well dressed for the first time this 
 many a year. I take a very old friend of mine with me to 
 
 town, for as long as Sir E lives I shall be afraid even to 
 
 stir two yards alone. My address for the present will be 
 38, Norfolk Square, Hyde Park." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " Itme yh, 1859. 
 " I'm sure I ought to be flattered ; all my friends make 
 so much of me, and are so glad to see me, but after the 
 oysterish life I have so long led, never quitting my shell, 
 driving about all the morning on business, and dinners, 
 balls, plays, and concerts every evening, are almost too 
 much for me." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 ''June iS//;, 1859. 
 
 " My friends are so kind that I ought to be cut up in 
 mincemeat to suffice for all the parties they make for me. 
 
AN INTERVIEW WITH MR. JAMES. 345 
 
 Tuesday I go to the opera with Mrs. Wheeler, and on 
 Wednesday with them to a whitebait dinner at Greenwich. 
 The Hardinge Tylers are pressing me to meet Dhuleep 
 Singh on the 28th at dinner, which is a great temptation, 
 but I am really worn out with all this dissipation, and must 
 get back. Mr. James, who may well be ashamed to meet 
 me, refused to see me, but I insisted, so now he writes to 
 say he will receive me at six o'clock next Monday evening. 
 I am going out to dine in the country with Judge and 
 Mrs. Haliburton." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "June 2$th, 1859. 
 
 " I had an hour and a quarter's broadside with that 
 slippery vaiirien Mr. Edwin James on Monday. I have 
 not time to give you particulars of all his lies, save that, 
 like all liars, he is a great coward. Said anything I 
 wished should be done, the remaining debts paid imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Mr. Edwin James's promises were, however, again 
 broken, as the following letter shows. 
 
 To Mr. Edwin James. 
 
 ''June 27///, 1859. 
 
 "Dear Sir,— 
 
 "I was much annoyed and disgusted to find last 
 night that Mrs. Hardinge Tyler had not yet been paid 
 her i!^45, though I cannot say that I was surprised. . . . 
 Allowing for the drains upon your client's exchequer for 
 hush-money and other back-stair outlays, it is really most 
 impolitic that his parsimony should be the only portion of 
 his money allotted to me, and that while you committed 
 the Boeotian blunder of boasting to me of having paid one 
 of his tools, the sham Mrs. Sellers, ^^50 for her dirty 
 work against me, you go on worrying and torturing me by 
 the non-payment of my paltry but just debts. I am aware 
 that you have been much occupied with that Ruck case, 
 
346 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 but now that infamous old Dr. Connolly * has been exposed, 
 and the amiable Mr. Ruck, though owning to an almost 
 permanent state of delirium tremens and strange delusions, 
 has got his ;i^500 damages for false imprisonment, I beg 
 you will have the goodness, without further delay, to 
 discharge my few remaining debts." 
 
 Lady Lytton returned to Taunton on June 30th. 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 "■July loth, 1859. 
 
 " Mr. Edwin James has not yet paid the remainder of 
 my debts. I have put the matter into the hands of my 
 solicitor, Mr. Hawke, a shrewd, clever, yet honest man. I 
 feel safe in Mr. Hawke's hands, because I was placed there 
 by my friend Mr. Henry Cole, the barrister." 
 
 The result of the wholly unjustifiable delay in 
 paying off Lady Lytton's debts accordingly was 
 that she was compelled to throw away more money 
 by employing lawyers and agents to bring her hus- 
 band to reason. I can hardly suppose that Sir 
 Edward and Mr. James were ignorant of the effect 
 their procrastination would produce, or that they 
 acted without premeditation, their object being to 
 cause the unfortunate lady as much annoyance and 
 embarrassment as possible. Lawyers' bills and fre- 
 quent journeys to London on business thus kept up 
 a perpetual drain on Lady Lytton's slender means, 
 but the real strength of Sir Edward's position will 
 be gathered from the following letter from Miss 
 Augusta Boys. 
 
 To Lady Lytton. 
 
 "July 2()th, 1859. 
 
 " Dearest Lady Lytton, — 
 
 "You have unfortunately allowed your adversary 
 
 * Dr. Connolly certified that Lady Lytton was insane when at 
 Mr. Hill's. 
 
UNPAID DEBTS. 347 
 
 to see your game by telling both Mr. James and Mr. 
 Lytton that, for the sake of the latter, you will not act or 
 do anything that will show Sir Edward up. All this has 
 been told Sir Edward, and they laugh at your threats, for 
 as Sir Edward does not possess one grain of honour or 
 any other redeeming quality, you must know that did he 
 possess but one tittle of facts against you out of the 
 thousand you have against him, neither his affection for 
 his son nor anything else would prevent his exposing you 
 to the utmost. . . . As to the debts not being paid, I told 
 Mr. Hawke in my letter of yesterday the Q.C. did not 
 dovetail his story well, for, admitting only those on the list 
 were to be paid, how came it ]\Ir. Errington was only paid 
 half, and did he think it likely you would omit your own 
 personal friend Mrs. Tyler .? Let the Q.C. produce your 
 list and your stipulation. Again, if they have agreed to 
 pay some even of your debts, why have obliged Mr. Wheeler 
 to sue for his .'' " 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 " August 1st, 1859. 
 
 " After that slippery Mephistopheles Mr. Edwin James' 
 solemn promises to Dr. Roberts and myself when I was 
 in town last June that the remainder of my beggarly debts 
 should be paid immediately, what do you think his fresh lie 
 
 to Mr. Hawke is ^ Why, that Sir E did not promise 
 
 to pay all my debts, but only a certain number, which 
 have been paid ! If so, how came Mr. Wheeler, the Jirst 
 claimant on my list, to have been obliged to serve Mr. 
 Edwin James with a writ before he could get his money .'' 
 and how came Mr. Errington, the second on the list, instead 
 of being paid his full claim of ;^400, to have been only 
 paid ;^300 and asked to wait for the other ;^I00.'' Mr. 
 Hawke wanted to know if I had any written proof of 
 
 Sir E 's having promised to pay all my debts, so I sent 
 
 him pretty plain proof in two letters of Mr. Hyde's to me 
 at Bordeaux, one of the 29th July, 1858, wherein he says, 
 ' Sir Edward has authorised Mr. Edwin James and myself 
 to satisfy all demands made upon us for you,' and another 
 
348 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 of August 28th, 1858, where this occurs : 'Sir Edward has 
 lodged in Mr. Edwin James's hands for the payment of 
 your debts ;{J"2,700, which, I'm sure you will be glad to 
 know, is your own money, but he says he will give as much 
 more as is required.' " 
 
 Months passed, and the debts were not paid. 
 Fresh expenses were of course incurred by Lady 
 Lytton in trying to obtain a settlement, but her new 
 solicitor, Mr. Hawke, seemed to be no more capable 
 of bringing about a satisfactory result than her 
 previous advisers had been, and meanwhile fresh 
 embarrassments increased the poor lady's distress. 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 '' October zWi, 1859. 
 " Little did I think when I wrote to you last that I 
 should be driven into availing myself of your always 
 generous kindness so soon, though not to the extent you 
 offered. To my great consternation, a large linen-draper 
 here, of the name of Day, went to smash a month ago, and, 
 to my great inconvenience, my half-yearly bill with him that 
 was to have been paid at Christmas, and which amounted 
 to ;^22, 1 had to pay yesterday to his assignees, which has 
 left me just 5^, c)d. to go on with till January, so if you 
 could kindly lend me;^5, you would be doing me, as you 
 have so often done before, a great service. Mrs. Clarke 
 would of course lend it me in a moment, but till I pay her 
 the last instalment of the ;^ioo she lent me in June I 
 should not like to ask her. There is a certain ;^I5 long 
 owing to me from a friend ; I have written to ask for ^10 
 of it." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " October 2Qth, 1859. 
 
 "You ask me to tell you what Mr. Hawke is doing. 
 Alas ! I can only answer you, as Lord Albemarle did his 
 lady-love, ' Don't wish for that star, dearest, because I 
 
A SPANISH BALLAD. 349 
 
 cannot give it thee ' ! Don't ask me what Mr, Hawke is 
 doing, because I cannot tell you, not being able to extract 
 a line from him." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 '■'■ N'oi' ember bth, 1859. 
 
 " I have been waiting from day to day in the hope of an 
 answer to my application for my £1^, that I might return 
 you the ;^io you so very kindly lent me. The answer has 
 arrived at last, and is another put-off." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " November i^ik, 1859. 
 
 " I am harassed and worried to death at Mr. Hawke's 
 unwarrantable silence, but will still wait for the nth of 
 December, and then will tell him that after having fooled 
 and tortured me all these months, if he does not choose to 
 do my business I must find some one who will." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "November igth. 1859. 
 
 " My eyes are streaming with influenza, so that I can 
 hardly see to scrawl these few lines, but I send you a 
 Spanish ballad. I think I should die if I did not some- 
 times vent my cruel outrages in this way." 
 
 SPANISH BALLAD. 
 
 Don Pomposo Fanfaroso 
 
 Who never moved except on stilts. 
 Had such eyes and such a nose O 
 
 They shook the rapiers to their hilts. 
 
 HE proclaimed he was a wonder ! 
 
 And who shottid know if he did not ? 
 He who had been weaned on thunder 
 
 And quaffed the lightning seething hot ! 
 
 The Guzman blue blood, of old Spain, 
 For his quick pulse, was all too slow ; 
 
 No, — ]us, the blood of Tubal Cain, 
 Black fused in regions down below. 
 
 Don Pomposo Fanfaroso 
 
 With fur}' shut his castle gates 
 'Gainst his spouse and children, those a — 
 
 — Cursed fetters on great men's fates ! 
 
350 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Don Pomposo full ofttimes bid 
 
 His page the golden Xcres pour, 
 But ce?'fes not to pledge the CiD, 
 
 Nor the bones of Campeadore ! 
 
 But to chase those pushing spectres 
 
 Which rt'/// haunt e'en great men's brains, 
 
 Bulging them, like vulgar Hectors, 
 With buried sins and living pains. 
 
 Phantoms of betrayed senoras, 
 
 With deep-drugged cups and loaded dice, 
 
 Witches, with their weird angoras. 
 Transforming stalwart men to mice. 
 
 False promises and broken vows, — 
 
 By judgment heaped, as preachers tell, 
 
 Beneath the shade of pleasure's boughs, 
 To make the downward road to hell. 
 
 It was whispered, that Pomposo 
 
 Once late, upon a fearful night, 
 Lost a jewel of Formosa, 
 
 And lo ! brought back a strange pale light, 
 
 Flitting, flitting — round about him. 
 
 Now in his eyes, now in his hair ; 
 Not so much it seemed to flout him. 
 
 As all the world beside to scare. 
 
 Certain it was, that from that time, 
 WTiate'er he said, whate'erhe did. 
 
 Though called by common mortals " crime," 
 Was puffed from Cadiz to Madrid. 
 
 Then his wisdom was so solid, 
 
 It turned to lead ; the lightest joke 
 
 Won him votes at Valladolid 
 To be Lord Rector of Pig-poke ! 
 
 Among the Cortes, made him first. 
 
 In legislative foodledom. 
 To gag the masses, who had cursed 
 
 Hereditary noodledom. 
 
 From the Escurial's treasured tomes, 
 
 He excavated dead men's brains. 
 As the free bee all Flowerland roams, 
 
 And hives iheir sweetness for its pains. 
 
 So, too, Pomposo cufled a thought. 
 And then a quip, now here, now there ; 
 
 And thus his wondrous works were wrought 
 From out a harvest sown elsewhere. 
 
 Soon he hived — 'tis true, «o/ honey, 
 
 But what's more sweet, though join'd with moon ! 
 Which was heaps of golden money, 
 
 That bought the sun of Fortune's noon. 
 
A SPANISH BALLAD. 35 I 
 
 The world all cried, " Oh ! how clever ! 
 
 Surely he' II live when Spain's no more ? " 
 Echo woke, and yawned out, " Never ! 
 
 Pray give poor Spain a loud encore .' ' ' 
 
 The great man turned upon his heel, 
 
 To give his genius wider scope ; 
 He made a progress through Castile ; 
 
 Boors asked how he ! " was off for soap " ? 
 
 Don Pomposo Fanfaroso 
 
 Could not brook such low-bred Spanish ! 
 So where Guadalquiver flows O ! — 
 
 Presto ! he thought fit to vanish ! 
 
 'Tis true, strange noises in the air 
 
 Make crones think he still inhabits 
 One of his many castles there, 
 
 And perhaps is shooting rabbits ! 
 
 Empecinados, with their mules, 
 
 In those awful mountain passes 
 (Being themselves such arrant fools). 
 
 Treat the poor things just like asses ; 
 
 And fright them forward with his name 
 
 As the shades of evening close in. 
 So deathless is the tide of fame ! 
 
 Such strange channels still it flows in ! 
 
 And mothers, with unruly brats. 
 
 That zij/// talk, and shun repose O ! 
 Cry out, " Hobgoblins ! owls ! and bats ! 
 
 Here's POMPOSO ! FANFAROSO ! 
 
 To " point a moral " without fail 
 Requires the reader to be warned ; 
 
 And he who now " adorns I/i/s tale " 
 Perchance may be by /«// adorned ! 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 ' ' November 29//;, 1 859. 
 " For the last four days I have been in terrible affliction, 
 crying my eyes out, which always makes me seriously ill in 
 other ways. I must have told you of that dear, kind, good 
 Samaritan Mrs. Jermyn, whom I had never seen, but who, 
 when I published my 'Appeal,' upon an average twice a week 
 kept sending me ;^io notes, pretending, dear angel of a 
 woman, that she had sold single numbers of it for that, 
 and who, when I was incarcerated in the madhouse, sent 
 
3 52 LIFIi OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Miss Ryves ^50 for lawyers, and told her to ask for what- 
 ever more was wanted, and who, in fact, has been heaping 
 kindnesses of every description on me ever since. Well, 
 after a second fit of apoplexy, she died, a ready-made 
 angel if ever there was one, last Friday at Leamington. I 
 could not have believed it possible to have grieved as I 
 have done for a person one had never seen and only 
 known as one knows God, from the help and blessings one 
 receives from them." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 '■'December 24M, 1859. 
 
 " Quite ill with suspense ; not a word from Mr. Hawke, 
 good, bad, or indifferent." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "January 28M, i860. 
 
 " I received this morning a kind note from Mr. Cole. 
 He had called twice on Mr. Hawke without being able to 
 see him. He says he will persevere till he catches Mr. 
 Hawke, and will ' pitch into him,' and not fail to let me 
 know the result. As for Mr. Hawke, he is a legal riddle 
 that the Sphinx itself could not solve. I wrote to him 
 four days ago, insisting upon no longer being kept in 
 the dark as to what so vitally concerned me, or else on 
 having all my papers back, that I might employ some 
 one else ; still no answer ! If hope deferred maketh the 
 heart sick, what must despair prolonged do .-* " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "February \%th, i860. 
 
 'I am so ill from this inhumanly prolonged suspense 
 that I have neither heart nor strength to write. It is very 
 easy to talk of exposing such conduct, but without money, 
 and without a man of any kind belonging to me, how is it 
 to be done t I do think it is a burning shame of Mr. Cole 
 not to have written again before this; and as for the vulture 
 that preyed on the vitals of Prometheus, it was a tame 
 sparrow compared to the Hawke that is preying upon 
 mine." 
 
ANOTHER JOURNEY TO LONDON. 353 
 
 Lady Lytton again travelled to London in the 
 middle of March, in the hope of getting her affairs 
 finally settled. She had a very unsatisfactory inter- 
 view with Mr. Hawke, who seemed to have done 
 practically nothing during the past nine months, and 
 returned to Taunton on the 17th in a more hopeless 
 frame of mind than ever. And so the dreary busi- 
 ness went on. 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 " April ()tli, 1S60. 
 
 " I told Mr. Hawke I vutst have my bill and my papers 
 back, and we must proceed with our action against Clarke,* 
 and I wrote a month ago requesting Dr. Roberts to follow 
 up Mr. Hawke and see this was done, but from neither of 
 them have I had any sign since, and unless I break into Mr. 
 Hawke's office and steal my papers, I don't really see how 
 I am to get them. ... I had such a present last Thurs- 
 day, a most beautiful and thorough-bred Blenheim. The 
 gentleman who sent him to me from Woodstock says that 
 when the Duchess of Marlborough saw what a perfect 
 beauty he was she did not like his leaving Blenheim. I 
 have christened my doggie Daisy, feeling I shall soon have 
 a daisy quilt over me." 
 
 To the Same. - 
 
 "April I2tli, 1S60. 
 
 " I am worried to death, and have been drained dry by 
 the active infamy of my enemies and the passive folly of 
 my friends ; and I am both grieved and heartily ashamed 
 at being only able to send you .^5 this quarter out of the 
 i^io you so kindly lent me to go to town last month. 
 You talk, dear Dr. Price, of employing some respectable 
 solicitor. Imprimis, where find such a thing, more 
 especially nailed down here as I am .'' Every journey 
 is ruinous to me in point of expense, as I am not like a 
 
 * For having published a second edition of Lady Lytton's novel 
 " Very Successful " without her authority. 
 
 23 
 
3 54 I'lI'^E OF LADV LVTTON. 
 
 man, who can go alone, and always have two or three 
 people to pay for. I am, morever, in a cruelly false 
 position, hampered with a beggarly title, and in a sphere 
 of life from which I reap only imposition and disadvan- 
 tages of every sort, so that I can compare my whole life 
 to nothing but ascending, or rather in vain trying to ascend, 
 a slippery mountain of ice, so heavily laden that even 
 walking on smooth ground would be difficult" 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CONTINUED STRUGGLES. 
 
 At the end of May I again find Lady Lytton in 
 London, endeavouring to obtain a settlement of her 
 dispute with Mr. Clarke, the publisher, and also to 
 wind up her business with Mr. Hawke, from whom 
 she was still unable to obtain any satisfaction. She 
 writes to Dr. Price : — 
 
 " I thought I had explained to you long ago that last 
 year I took counsel's opinion, which was all in my favour, 
 and made my copyright over to what in law is called a ' next 
 friend,' to sue Clarke, so that my married woman fetters are 
 thereby knocked off, which makes Mr. Hawke's conduct 
 the worse. But I will not leave his office without my 
 papers this time." 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 "Great Western Hotel, London. 
 " May 2<)th, i860. 
 
 " In the morning by ten I was at that attorney's office. 
 He was out of town. I then went to Dr. Roberts. He 
 said the last time he had seen Mr. Hawke he said, ' he 
 did not really see what he could do in Clarke's affair,' 
 though he had told Mr. Cole five months ago that ' it 
 was all right, and he should go into Court with that ; ' and 
 in February, when I was there, after first telling me the lie 
 that he did not think I cared about it, which was what I 
 alone employed him for a year ago, the rest being his own 
 volunteering, his last words were: 'Oh, well, I'll go on 
 
3 56 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 with it ! ' . . . . Yesterday I dined with the Tylers, and at 
 nine this morning I was at Dr. Roberts' door, and at 
 Clarke's in Paternoster Row at half-past nine. They pre- 
 tended he was out. Dr. Roberts wrote him a note, saying 
 he must produce the written authority he pretended he 
 had from me for republishing ' Very Successful,' or the law 
 must take its course. By three o'clock Dr. R. receives 
 a letter, saying he had bought the copyright of ' Cheveley ' 
 from Mr. Bull, as I and everyone else knows he had, and 
 then it turned out Dr. Roberts, in his muddle, had written 
 'Cheveley' instead of 'Very Successful;' and this is a 
 pretty good type of the clear and zealous way in which 
 all my business is done, and so the matter rests for the 
 
 present I appointed a quarter-past four for Dr. R. 
 
 to go with me again to Mr. Hawke's The attorney 
 
 could not look me in the face. I said, ' I have come for my 
 papers, and I mean to have them.' * I have told Dr. 
 Roberts you shall have them to-morrow.' ' I am tired of 
 your to-morrows, and must and will have them now if I 
 stay here all night.' ' Then you may stay here all night,' 
 said the fellow ; ' for you sha'n't have them.' ' Mr. Cole,' I 
 said, 'ought to be ashamed of himself to place me in such 
 hands and then leave me. What a set I have had to deal 
 with!' 'Oh yes! Everyone ill-uses you,' he answered 
 with a grin. ' That,' said I, ' is the only truth I have ever 
 heard you utter ; ' whereupon he put on his hat, walked 
 out of the office, and left me and Dr. Roberts there, and 
 so the matter rests. Dr. Roberts is now furious with Sir 
 Liar, and that blackguard Mr. Edwin James, and owns 
 he has been regularly sold, but when I warned him of that 
 Ions: ago I was not listened to." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 ^^ June Isf, i860. 
 
 ''' I returned here at three yesterday morning in a deluge 
 of rain, so stiff from my increased cold that I could scarcely 
 turn in bed. Of course, the first step is to get Mr. 
 Hawke's bill and have it taxed, which is what I have in 
 vain been trying to do for the last five months. The great 
 
AN ACT OF CHARITY. 3 57 
 
 thing is to bell the cat, but who is to do it ? As a proof 
 of Dr. Roberts' practical lucidity, he said to me the other 
 day, after telling me that Sir E. still gave out that I 
 was quite deranged, and that my appearance was some- 
 thing too disgusting, ' I'd give my right hand if you were 
 in London going out everywhere. That would be the true 
 and effectual way to crush him.' ' And,' replied I, ' I 
 would give both my hands if you would in any way point 
 out to me the means of doing this, which I have been 
 aware all along is precisely what I ought to do ; but Sir E., 
 being equally aware of this, takes good care that I should 
 not have those means, and you all quietly let him do so.' " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 '■'June 2>tk, i860. 
 
 "As for a maid I would, you may be sure, have had one 
 long ago, could I in any way have afforded to do so. It is 
 not the wages, which would have been saved over and over 
 again in needlework, but Mrs. Clarke charges 15s. a week 
 for their board. Moreover, you must know when I was in 
 the Pyrenees two years ago Mr. Lytton sentimentalised 
 greatly over a poor lame girl of fifteen, whom he proposed 
 taking to Paris with us ; but I, delighted to recognise and 
 encourage such humane feelings in him, put this poor 
 young girl into a convent at Luchon, not to be a nun, but 
 to be boarded, educated, and clothed. This, I need not tell 
 you, as things have turned out, is a great drain upon me, 
 but, of course, I cannot vent my trials upon this poor girl, 
 but must continue, as long as I live, to provide for her.* 
 So you see, dear Dr. Price, there can be no maid nor 
 even a drive during the summer months for me." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 '■'Jiatc lyh, 1S60. 
 
 "I wrote on Monday to Mr. Cole, telling him how cruel 
 and ungentlemanly I thought his conduct in placing me 
 
 * This is only a single instance of Lady Lytton 's unselfish 
 generosity. She was for ever stinting herself to relieve distress in 
 others, and thereby incurred the charge of reckless extravagance 
 from her enemies. — L. D. 
 
3 58 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 in such hands as Mr. Hawke's, then coolly leaving me, 
 and not even having the common courtesy to answer my 
 urgent letters. Yesterday I received a long letter from 
 him, expressing his regret that he should have recom- 
 mended Mr, Havvke, of whom he knew nothing but in 
 a business way, but that, if he might presume to advise, 
 it would be for my trustee instantly to bring an action 
 against Hawke for detaining my papers, of which action he 
 would have to pay the costs. I forwarded this letter to 
 Dr. Roberts." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 ''June \%th, i860. 
 
 " I have had a letter of apology from Mr. Cole, owning 
 how very wrong he has been ; therefore, I have forgiven 
 him, as 1 do every one who oivjis they are wrong." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " /ittie 22nd, i860. 
 
 " I have written three times to Dr. Roberts, requesting 
 one line to know whether he has commenced proceedings 
 against Mr. Hawke, but not a single answer have I had." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "June 2'jth, i860. 
 
 " I this morning at length received a much-ado-about- 
 nothing letter from Dr. Roberts. He begins by saying he 
 has not had time to attend to anything but his professional 
 duties, but that he Jiad commenced proceedings against 
 Mr. Hawke, who had not sent in his bill, but said he 
 wanted between ^^30 and £'\0, and would then give up my 
 papers. ... I told Dr. Roberts, that had he eighteen 
 months ago, as I begged of him, written to Mr. Ironside, 
 sending him my own written and positive denial to Captain 
 Jones of ever having given Clarke leave to re-issue ' Very 
 Successful,' with Clarke's counter-statement, or had he, as 
 every one says it was his bounden duty to do, written not 
 a courteous and palavering letter to Sir Edward, but a 
 stringent and determined one, I should never have been 
 driven into Mr. Hawke's clutches at all ; and even had he, 
 Dr. Roberts, four months ago, as I prayed of him, pro- 
 
MR. HAWKE, 3 59 
 
 ceeded against this fellow, or made an effort to obtain my 
 papers from him, I should have been spared the, to me, 
 ruinous expense of a second journey to London. . . . 
 I think Mr. Cole will be a little surprised at Mr. Hawke's 
 proceedings." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 ''Jtily 2nd, i860. 
 " Dr. Roberts is now trying to get out of even attempt- 
 ing to get my papers from Mr. Hawke He writes 
 
 that he is so ' stung' at my accusing him of double dealing 
 — which I never did accuse him of, but merely of verbal 
 sugar and water — that ' he must decline any farther 
 interference in my affairs beyond what concerns the trust.' 
 I have written to Mr. Cole, saying that, as it is very certain 
 Dr. Roberts will persevere in his cruel course of doing 
 nothing, I must beg of him, Mr. Cole, to really act for me 
 in this affair, for which I will send him an adequate fee in 
 October." 
 
 Extract from Letter of Mr. Cole to Lady 
 Lytton, 
 
 " I return you the doctor's letter. Mr. Hawke's demand is 
 simply absurd ; he will find great difficulty in making it out 
 even on paper, and will never obtain it on taxation. What 
 your trustee ought to do is instantly to take out a summons 
 at Judges' Chambers, citing Mr. Hawke to show cause why 
 he does not send in his bill that it may be taxed, and 
 instantly deliver up your documents. This would bring 
 him to his bearings at once. It is really abominable that 
 you should be so harassed, and I feel truly sorry I should 
 have been in any way the means of bringing you in contact 
 with this man." 
 
 It will easily be seen from the foregoing extracts 
 how persistent was the ill-fortune which attended 
 Lady Lytton in the choice of her so-called friends 
 and legal advisers, and how financially ruinous was 
 the result of all her struggles to obtain justire 
 
360 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Endless lawyers' bills, repeated journeys to London, 
 the machinations of her enemies and the apathy of 
 her friends — all constituted a perpetual drain upon 
 her scanty resources, which made her life a long 
 struggle against embarrassment and poverty. After 
 her dealings with Mr. Hawke, she employed Mr. 
 Cole to conduct her affairs, not as a friend, but 
 as a barrister. She writes to Dr. Price : " I cannot 
 consent to be under any obligation to him, so I have 
 told him that the fact of his not acting for me pro- 
 fessionally is an additional reason why I have no 
 right to encroach upon his time, and as I am to 
 have my parish allowance to-morrow, I borrowed 
 ;^io from Mrs. Clarke and enclosed it to him, 
 telling him it was useless to return it to me as it 
 would only give me the additional trouble of con- 
 tinuing to send it." Mr. Cole employed a new 
 solicitor, Mr. Comyn. 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 ''July 1 8^//, i860. 
 " Indeed, dear Dr. Price, it is not either kindness or 
 generosity that makes me send Mr. Cole such a fee for 
 doing nothing but having put me into the hands of Mr. 
 Hawke and coolly left me there much longer than, accord- 
 ing to my notions of right and wrong, he ought to have 
 done. No, it is pride, which will not allow me to accept 
 even half an hour of a man's time, unless I can approve of 
 his conduct. There is not another man in England besides 
 your dear noble-minded self from whom 1 would condescend 
 to accept the most humiliating of all services, i.e., pecuniary 
 ones." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " Augiist 2.nd, i860. 
 
 " I am told 1 want total change of air and scene : very 
 likely, but there is much use in telling a poor wretch this 
 
A RESOLUTE QUAKER. 36 1 
 
 who has been literally so skinned that she cannot even 
 afford as much change of air as a drive into the country 
 would give her. Not a word from Mr. Cole ! The other 
 day Foden Lawrence, a Quaker upholsterer here, and one of 
 my firmest allies and fighters in the incarceration of 1858, 
 wrote to Sir E. himself for his little bill of ^5, which Mr. 
 Hyde omitted to pay. Sir E, wrote him a contemptible 
 quibble back, that he should apply to my trustees to pay it 
 out of my allowance, as he was not responsible for any of 
 my debts, as if it had been a new one ! This production 
 Lawrence enclosed to Dr. Roberts in a very stringent but 
 respectful letter, telling him it was his bounden duty, as my 
 trustee, to enforce the payment of these paltry debts, and 
 that, if he would not do his duty, he, Lawrence, would by 
 suing Sir E. in the county court." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 ^' Augitsi i)th, i860. 
 
 " In reply to Lawrence the Quaker's letter, Dr. Roberts 
 has written to say that his (Lawrence's) bill not having 
 been on the original list, he fears they won't pay it. Mean- 
 while Lawrence has a letter from that scamp Edwin James, 
 saying that Hyde should pay his bill, and I wish you could 
 have seen the letter he wrote to the Q.C. yesterday, saying, 
 ' If I could be surprised at anything thee did, I should be 
 surprised at thy loolish and Sir E. Lytton's contemptible 
 quibble : he aftecting to think this a fresh bill incurred by 
 his wife, and referring me to her trustees to get it paid. 
 Were it so there would be no necessity for such roundabout 
 proceedings, as she always pays her bills punctually, and, 
 moreover, scrupulously fulfils her promises. Thee cannot 
 surelysuppose that the men of Taunton forget the disgraceful 
 and illegal kidnapping and incarceration in June 1858, as our 
 indignant zeal it was that stirred up the general public to 
 insist upon her release ; neither do they ignore that one of 
 the chief motives for this much-injured lady consenting to 
 hush up that disgraceful business was the solemn promise 
 that all her debts should be instantly paid, and though she 
 
362 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 may be fettered into not publicly exposing that iniquity, 
 for which she might have recovered such heavy damages, 
 from the fear of irrevocably injuring her son, thee must 
 remember that others are not impeded by any such 
 obstacles, and a creditable figure thee and thy client. Sir 
 E. Lytton, would cut in the county court.' " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " Augtisi 15///, i860. 
 
 "I am welPaware that God can at all times and in all 
 places, and under all circumstances, at His own good 
 pleasure, work wonders ; but I know that my besetting sin 
 has been kicking against the pricks, that is, not sufficiently 
 remembering while writhing under the blows that, after all, 
 the secondary causes which so persecute and maltreat us 
 are but God's instruments, and could have no power over 
 us, were it not His will, to which we ?;//^^^ submit, and ought 
 to bow. But one is but human, and in the heat of a cruel, 
 and, humanly speaking, unjust and unequal contest, it is 
 hard at all times to act up to this conviction ! However, I 
 do hope that, through God's mercy, what began in despair 
 is now fructifying into resignation with me, and, instead of 
 unavailing lamentations over all my withered gourds, I can 
 kneel down among them and pray, ' Thy will be done.' 
 No tidings of the barrister or attorney." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "August 2\sf, i860. 
 " Last Friday I had another severe blow on hearing of 
 the death of that aunt of the Queen's, that dear, kind Grand 
 Duchess Anne. Nothing could exceed her great and 
 constant kindness to me during the five years I was in 
 Switzerland ; indeed, the few valuable ornaments I still 
 possess which have not been melted down to pay swindling 
 attorneys and supply my daily bread were her gifts. I think 
 her liking for me began in heartfelt sympathy, as a greater 
 and meaner brute, with one exception, than that Grand 
 Duke Constantine, her husband, could not be. Unlike her 
 
THE GRAND DUCHESS ANNE. 363 
 
 sister, the Duchess of Kent, she had, besides her great 
 beauty, that greatest of all charms, — the sweetest of sweet 
 voices ; a truer heart, brighter soul, or nobler mind never 
 went to heaven. She can but gain by the change ; but oh ! 
 how additionally dark and cold the world looks and feels 
 when these pure unworldly spirits quit it to return home ! 
 Poor soul, she was but a few days ill, and her death was as 
 gentle and lovely as her life had been. Peace be with her ! 
 ***** 
 
 Dr. Roberts will be rather surprised to hear, as he will 
 to-day, that Foden Lawrence, the Quaker, by going properly 
 to work has got his money. The way in which Lawrence 
 won the battle was this. In reply to his letter, the 
 copy of which I sent you, the Q.C. wrote an inane bluster, 
 saying he always treated intimidation with contempt, but 
 would consult his co-trustee about paying the bill. Of this 
 the Quaker took no notice ; but three days later served Sir 
 E. with a writ ! Yesterday, so that the letter must have 
 been written on Tuesday, which shows the fright they were 
 in, comes another letter from Mr. Edwin James, enclosing a 
 cheque for the money, but with a last dying flourish, saying 
 he paid it, though ' morally and legally Sir E. was not 
 obliged to pay it.' To which asinine lie Lawrence, in 
 enclosing his receipt, returns the following reply, ' Law and 
 equity, as we all know, are two very different things ; but I 
 always thought that when a person made a solemn promise, 
 they were morally bound to abide by it ; and had not thy 
 client, Sir E. Lytton, solemnly promised in 1858 to pay all 
 his wife's debts, I should not have sent in my claim. Such 
 being the case, I am sorry to have been kept two years 
 applying for my bill, and ultimately been compelled to 
 serve thy client with a writ, which has at last ensured the 
 payment of my claim ; but if he is not legally obliged to pay 
 it, thee must be no lawyer to have allowed him to pay it, and 
 that in all haste when compelled to do so.' My belief is 
 that, were the invasion really to take place to-morrow, the 
 Quakers would be the only people who would show fight, 
 John Bright and the rest of the Peace Society at the head 
 of them!'" 
 
364 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 ^^ September 2\s/, i860. 
 
 " Of course, I was obliged to employ another solicitor here 
 to write to Mr. Ironside touching Clarke's allegation of his 
 having made him, Clarke, a present of all my copyrights. 
 At first he did not answer, and at last wrote to Mr. Easton 
 to say that he had given a full explanation to Dr. Roberts, 
 and referred him to the latter. Upon Mr. Easton writing 
 to Dr. Roberts, and desiring that Mr. Ironside's letters on 
 the subject might be sent to me, an answer comes from a 
 clerk or someone, saying Dr. R. had gone abroad. Oh, how 
 I wish I had some enterprising person who would get up a 
 penny subscription throughout England for me, and then I 
 might hope to weather at least this pecuniary fleecing, and 
 effectually expose the shufflers ! . . . I only wish I had 
 been at Naples at the Marylebone mountebank's* advent, 
 and I'd have got my friends, the Lazzaroni, to whom I used 
 to give a dinner, i.e., a ton of macaroni once a fortnight, 
 to give him the reception he deserves." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " September 26th, i860. 
 
 " I wrote to Mr. Cole again to-day to know when this 
 cruel farce was to end. ... If you can read novels do read 
 'The Woman in White ' by Wilkie Collins. It will remind 
 you slightly of my history. Sir Percival Glyde and Count 
 Fosco are very pretty rascals as far as they go, but mere 
 sucking doves compared to the fiends I have to deal with." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " September 2,0th, i860. 
 " You need not tell me to avoid stimulants,t as I never 
 drink anything but water, for two excellent reasons, one of 
 which would suffice. Imprimis, I cannot aff"ord anything 
 else, and, secondly, nothing else agrees with me half so 
 well." 
 
 * Mr. Edwin James. 
 
 t One of the most cruel and unfounded charges brought against 
 Lady Lytton by her enemies was that she occasionally gave w-ay to 
 habits of intoxication. Upon this point see Appendix IL — L. D. 
 
MR. CHALOxNT — ADMIRAL GORDON. 365 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " October '^th, 1S60. 
 
 " I send you Mr. Cole's last letter. I shudder at the 
 prospect of the additional expense and infamy that awaits 
 me. I wonder what was the affidavit I was to make. 
 However, Mr. Comyn was right in saving me the expense 
 of another journey to London, seeing how I have been 
 beggared in this way already. I had a great shock yester- 
 day morning in receiving a letter in an unknown hand, with 
 an enormously broad black edge. It was to announce the 
 death on that morning, the 3rd inst., of poor Mr. Alfred 
 Chalon, the painter." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " October \yh, i860. 
 
 " I have had another blow in the sudden death of that 
 poor Admiral Gordon, that kind friend of my childhood, 
 that I told you of a fortnight ago, that Lord Blayney 
 brought me the message from. I was planning to go and 
 see him and his wife in the spring. To show you the 
 strength and universal ramification of the deeply organised 
 and chronic conspiracy against me, I must tell you that, 
 finding all the cruel expenses into which Sir L. was as 
 usual plunging me, I last October got ready a one volume 
 book to be out by Christmas, for ;^ioo, which it ought to 
 have brought, would have been salvation to me. It was 
 not a novel, and had nothing that could be construed into 
 personality, but was a series of essays. This I wrote under 
 the name of Robert Denham, and sent it to Judge Hali- 
 burton, to get published for me. He and Mrs. Haliburton 
 thought very highly of it, and he sent it to Bentley, who 
 kept it six weeks, professed himself delighted with it, but 
 insisted upon knowing the author's real name. The moment 
 he heard it was mine he shuffled out of publishing it, saying 
 his engagements would not allow him to do so ! Nothing 
 daunted, six months ago I returned to the charge, and got 
 the MS. copied, so that my writing, which is well known 
 to the trade, might not betray me, for which I paid three 
 pounds. 1 then begged of a lady of whom I knew little 
 
366 LIFE OF LADY LVTTON. 
 
 and who is quite out of my beat of acquaintances, and, 
 therefore, not likely to be suspected of being my agent, to 
 try and have the goodness to dispose of the MS. for me. 
 I gave her the whole history of Judge H.'s failure with 
 Bentley, that she might avoid this Charybdis. Well, would 
 you believe it, this woman wrote me word about six weeks 
 ago, saying, ' I hope I have not done wrong, but I have sent 
 your MS. to Bentley!'" 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " October iK^th, i860. 
 
 " No parish allowance yet. The contemptible cowards! 
 I despise them too cordially to fear them, and this is at 
 once my battle-axe and my shield, and as for my 'violent 
 language,' so shocking to ears polite, it is my only safety- 
 valve, my only relief. For, gorged as I am with ever- 
 increasing and never-redressed outrages and insults, I 
 should have burst long ago but for it. Well can I sym- 
 pathise with, and enter into the explosive feelings of, that 
 old gentleman of whom Montaigne tells us, who, being a 
 martyr to gout, was ordered as he valued his life to abstain 
 from provocations of it, such as hams, tongues, Bologna 
 sausages, and all salt meats. ' Abstain from them ! ' he 
 roared, ' Never, sir, never ! I should die if I had not those 
 damned hams and tongues to swear at as the cause of all 
 my sufferings.' " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " October ipk, i860. 
 
 " Parish allowance come. I am really ashamed always 
 to encroach upon your generous kindness by still continuing 
 five pounds in your debt, and being only able to send you 
 ten pounds, the half of which is enclosed. I am only 
 seventy-eight pounds behindhand with poor good Mrs. 
 Clarke, which is a serious grief to me, and then Mr. 
 Hawke's bill hanging over me — what is to become of 
 me God only knows. You will say that there is no end 
 to my luck when I tell you that I had a letter from a lady 
 who tells me Mr. Chalon had made a will, and she believes 
 
MR. HAWKE'S bill. 367 
 
 had left me two or three thousand pounds ; but, owing to 
 his having made it himself, and it not having been wit- 
 nessed, it is invalid, and all his beautiful pictures, instead 
 of going as he left them, will be sent to the hammer. But 
 what I think far worse, his poor, old, faithful Swiss servant, 
 who had worn out his life with him, will be left unprovided 
 for." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " OctoL'f 26fh, i860. 
 
 " I tried to write to you yesterday, but was prostrated 
 by one of my splitting headaches, which was by no means 
 relieved by a rigmarole from Mr. Cole, and Mr. Hawke's 
 bill. I do not see how, unless he had quadrupled the 
 6s. 8d.'s, he could have inflated it more. ... As to Mr. 
 Hawke's making a fancy demand of ^^"30 or £^0 to Dr. 
 Roberts, and then another of £60 to Mr. Comyn, that 
 only proves what sort of a man he is. ... I sent Mr. 
 Cole a list of the papers sent to Mr. Hawke, and said that 
 when they were returned I would pay the extortionate bill. 
 I also begged to know how much I v/as in Mr. Comyn's 
 debt, which, of course, will be another £10, and, as I shall 
 have at least that sum to pay the little attorney here, 
 Mr. Easton, you may guess the more than terrible state 
 I should be in but for your generous kindness. . . . That 
 ;^io that Mr. Cole mentions as Mr. Comyn having to my 
 credit, is the £\0 I sent Mr. Cole, which he would not 
 take, but which saved me nothing, as I ordered him a 
 very handsome silver tankard which cost me £12, for I 
 certainly could not remain under an obligation to a man 
 who has acted as he has done." 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " November 1st, i860. 
 
 " I, alas ! have it not in my power to do good to any- 
 one beyond the very poor, properly so-called, and when 
 one sees the joy that a single sovereign, or even half a one, 
 with a icv^ old clotiies can create in a destitute family, one 
 cannot help wondering that those who have the means, and 
 spend thousands upon pictures and old masters, have no 
 
368 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 fancy to lay out a few pounds upon originals and God's 
 servants. . . . Mr. Cole now expresses a fear that Mr. 
 Hawke will still persist in not giving up my papers. I 
 wrote, ' What, then, in the name of horsehair and humbug 
 is the use of the judge farce, if the said judge cannot 
 compel the fellow to disgorge his prey ? As for Mr. Comyn, 
 I know no more of him than he does of my business. He 
 may, for aught I know, be an angel in parchment ; but all I 
 contend for is, that, were it six, four, three, two, or even one 
 month since Mr. Comyn had been employed, after Mr. 
 Hawke's eighteen months' lies and game at hide-and-seek, 
 he, Mr. Comyn, should not have wasted his own time and 
 my patience in calling, waiting, and asking this fellow for 
 my papers, but should at once have done what he has done 
 now, whatever that was, as it instantly produced that fancy 
 article, his bill.' ... In my former letter I said to Mr. 
 Cole that I did him the justice to believe he was quite 
 incapable of actively and knowingly aiding and abetting 
 this iniquitous conspiracy, but he must remember that 
 ' evil is wrought by want of thought as well as by want 
 of heart' " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " November iSth, i860. 
 
 " I now send you Dr. Roberts' last letter. You must 
 bear in mind that two years ago, on my return from abroad, 
 in the teeth of Mr. Ironside's solemn denial of ever having 
 given Clarke permission to republish my works, Dr. R. 
 told me he could not force or induce Clarke to produce 
 his written authority. Yet six months ago he went through 
 the farce of writing to Clarke, and the authority was said 
 to have been produced, though I never saw it. Dr. R. 
 then wrote me word he had written to Mr. Ironside, who 
 owned having given Clarke the permission. Whereupon, 
 in the teeth of his former denial, I naturally asked to see 
 this letter, but of this request, though thrice repeated, the 
 doctor took no notice. Now, observe, he says to Mr. 
 Easton he has lost the letter, and Mr. Ironside says it was 
 so long ago (two years !) that he really cannot remember 
 
AN EPIGRAM. 369 
 
 whether he had given Clarke leave to republish the books 
 or not. Couple this with Hawke's pretending, first, that he 
 had sent Captain Jones' letter containing Ironside's denial 
 back to me, or to Miss Boys, then, that he had never had it, 
 and, lastly, that he had lost it, and you will own that a more 
 precious set of traitors never lived ! " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 " December x^th, i860. 
 
 " The enclosed little epigram was written by the Chief 
 Baron, Sir F. Pollock, who gave it to Judge H., but he, 
 not daring to corrupt my morals openly, gave it to his wife 
 to send to me. I forward it to you in the hope that you, 
 like me, will be bad enough to laugh heartily at it. 
 
 " * On the Court of Queen's Bench, in Dublin, committing 
 Miss Aylward to the Richmond Bridewell, for contempt of 
 court in refusing to produce a child under a writ of Habeus 
 Corpus. That prison is appropriated to men only. 
 
 ** ' " In most earthly tribunals some harshness prevails, 
 
 But the Irish Queen's Bench is both prudent and mild ; 
 Miss Aylward they sent to a prison for males. 
 As the likeliest way of producing a child." ' " 
 
 The bulk of Lady Lytton's debts had now been 
 paid off, but she was left saddled with the burden of 
 lawyers' and other bills which she had been com- 
 pelled to incur in order to enforce her rights, and 
 from this state of embarrassment she never contrived, 
 in spite of the most rigid economy, to extricate 
 herself. On February 13th, 1861, she writes : — 
 
 " Mrs. Tyler writes me word that she has not been paid." 
 
 Again, March 13th: — 
 
 " Alas ! you are quite right. I am eaten up with interest 
 and eternal payment of arrears." 
 
 24 
 
370 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 To Dr. Price. 
 
 ''May I'jth, i86r. 
 " Much to my surprise, I receive a letter from Mr. 
 Watkins, the Queen's photographer, saying, that having 
 attended the sale of poor Mr. Chalon's pictures at Christie's, 
 he had bought Mr. Chalon's last picture of me, and as he 
 thought I ought to have it, he would sell it to me for less 
 than to any one else, viz., ^15. I wrote back, saying, I 
 would buy it, but could not do so until the middle of next 
 October, if he would keep it till then. This morning I 
 got the enclosed very civil letter from him, and a dozen 
 small photos done from Chalon's head, which is life-size. 
 . . . The man in the paragraph does not allude to the 
 right man in the right place, but to Colonel or Mr. Stewart. 
 Dizzy having mustered the lame, the halt, the mad, and 
 blind for the great sham fight on the Budget, this Mr. 
 Stewart, the member for Cambridge, was there with his 
 keeper, and Lord Adolphus Vane Tempest with his, both 
 returning back to their respective asylums as soon as they 
 had voted. But why not madmen as well as fools } " 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 "May 26t/i, 1861. 
 
 "If you have not burnt my letters, as I told you once 
 or twice before, please put them all in any common deal 
 box and send them to me, for, as I am writing my miser- 
 able life that the truth may at least be known after I am 
 gone, there may be incidents in them that would save me 
 the trouble of rewriting." 
 
 The above is the last letter to Dr. Price w^hich I 
 can find. I presume the rest vi^ere burnt. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 FAILURE OF VARIOUS SCHEMES FOR RELIEF. DR 
 
 KENEALY. 
 
 During the next few years of Lady Lytton's life 
 nothing occurred of any special interest or import- 
 ance. She continued to live on at Taunton down to 
 1873, the date of Lord Lytton's death, as, in spite 
 of the lonely and humdrum nature of her existence 
 there, she felt at all events comparatively safe from 
 fresh plots and conspiracies. The greater part of 
 her debts was indeed discharged, but some remained 
 unpaid, more especially the interest of a sum of 
 ^400 lent to her by Lady Blackburne, which she 
 could not in honour leave unpaid. In consequence 
 of this obligation, she was again compelled to borrow 
 money at ruinous interest, and afterwards, in 1874, 
 being then seventy-two years of age, she finally 
 arranged for a loan through an insurance office of 
 sufficient amount to defray all remaining claims ; but 
 this reduced her annuity of ^500 a year by ^256 a 
 year, so that she had left only ^244 a year for her 
 own use. In the summer of 1864 Lady Lytton left 
 the Giles Castle Hotel, and took up her residence at 
 a small house, " Brenton Villa," where she remained 
 during the rest of her stay at Taunton. 
 
 I will pass on to the year 1867, when a new 
 
372 
 
 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 scheme for the amelioration of Lady Lytton's con- 
 dition was first mooted. She had drawn up a full 
 and unreserved statement of her wrongs in 1866, 
 when a literary gendeman made a request in the 
 press that all experiences of unjust or illegal incar- 
 ceration in asylums should be sent to him. In an evil 
 hour, Lady Lytton forwarded a statement of her case 
 to this gentleman, who, however, made no use of it. 
 It was now proposed that this MS., which was never 
 intended for publication in its original form, should 
 be revised and amended, and thus utilised in some 
 way or another for the unfortunate lady's benefit. 
 In 1884 a gentleman wrote to me : — 
 
 «< ]y[rs. , who was much interested in the case of 
 
 Lady Lytton, invited me to assist in a scheme for its 
 amelioration. In 1867 Lady Lytton sent me a long state- 
 ment of her wrongs, which she desired to publish.* Granting 
 that the details were true, it was still evident that they 
 contained matter on which to ground unbounded actions 
 for libel against every one concerned in the publication. I 
 referred it to Dr. Kenealy, who confirmed my opinion. 
 We therefore suggested very great modifications, and that 
 the statement should take the form of a letter to the Queen. 
 Lady Lytton gave us carte blanche as to the alterations. 
 Dr. Kenealy was then too much engaged in professional 
 work to lend his aid gratis, and I was going abroad, and 
 unwilling to undertake so delicate a task alone. So the 
 matter dropped." 
 
 Unhappily, however, the matter did not drop, for 
 
 • This is inaccurate. Lady Lytton never meant the MS. to be 
 published as it stood. It was merely a statement of facts, many of 
 a sufficiently scandalous nature, which, although true, were only 
 intended for private cars. In fact, on the inside of the cover of the 
 MS. was written, " Disseminate these facts everywhere, short of 
 publication." — L. D. 
 
ANOTHER APPEAL. 373 
 
 this very MS. was published, without Lady Lytton's 
 authority or consent, in 1880, under the title of " A 
 Blighted Life." 
 
 I will return to this outrage hereafter. Meanwhile 
 I append a few extracts from various letters which 
 contain references to the subject. 
 
 *' Septevnber 26th, 1867. 
 
 " I think the statement should begin as from her to a 
 kind and generous public, and be signed with her name. 
 It must be stated that every appeal has been made to him 
 before her being forced to take this painful step. It must 
 also be shown that her grinding poverty prevents her ever 
 going into the Divorce Court, but before we launch this I 
 will ascertain what chance of success she would have in 
 court, or whether she is barred from availing herself of it. 
 I think she wants to get her life written, and a full statement 
 of all she endured would be parading that in a form she 
 does not contemplate. If you are so kind as to revise the 
 ' Madhouse MS.,' as she would call it, I will send it to you." 
 
 " October yd, 1867. 
 
 " The added rank* must make a difference since the deed 
 of separation was drawn up. He has been applied to for 
 help, and been told that a public subscription would be 
 raised, and has only written in reply an insolent letter to 
 Dr. Roberts, the trustee, telling him he will not pay a 
 farthing, and that he (Dr. Roberts) does not do his duty 
 as trustee, as he ought to prevent her getting into debt, and 
 save him (Lord L.) from being worried. 
 
 " There is one thing in your friend's letter which is quite 
 wrong. She says, * She must be coarse-minded.' You may 
 take my word for it she is not. I think thirty years of 
 brooding over her miseries and wrongs has brought her to 
 hate and despise the shams of society so much that she 
 has brought herself into the contrary habit, and so calls a 
 liar a liar, and a villain a villain, and so on. ... I can but 
 
 * Sir Edward was created Lord Lytton in 1866. 
 
374 LIFE OF LAUY LYTTON. 
 
 do my best, and cannot leave her to starve, and I can't see 
 how she can get on. She says that by her next quarter she 
 will have to receive only about iJ"20. Now she would rather 
 starve herself than let those dependent on her want, for 
 instance, this poor dying maid, who stood by her through 
 all her troubles till she was forced to part with her.* Lady 
 Lytton is not a woman at the best who can rough it, as it 
 is called, and now, the greater part of her time in bed and 
 suffering, she is quite helpless. I am looking for a letter 
 to send you which gives an idea of the true feeling such a 
 person as she has, banished to a spot void of anything like 
 intellectual society. All there is on the lowest scale of 
 country-townism. She says it is terrible to contrast this 
 life with what her early years were, when she lived amongst 
 and mixed in all that was high and courtly, not only in 
 social position, but in intellectual life. At Louis Philippe's 
 court she was ever most welcome ; the Queen Amelie took 
 her especially to her heart, I was going to say, but received 
 and protected her. Paris was the only place in which her 
 husband could not succeed in crushing her. Lord Aylmer 
 stood her friend, and the King and Queen. You must 
 remember that this unfortunate woman had a little property 
 of her own, which was probably the reason of his marrying 
 her, as it gave him his qualification for Parliament, which 
 his mother was too avaricious to give him. To bar dower 
 he settled ^i,ooo on her, and then, wanting money on some 
 occasion, he asked her to give up this settlement, and his 
 brother, William Bulwer, being the only remaining trustee, 
 gave it up. Thus she was at his mercy, as he often re- 
 minded her. She was not a penniless girl when she married, 
 for her property was iJ^300 odd a year. All this should go 
 into the statement." 
 
 Under the date of October loth, 1867, I find a 
 long letter from Dr. Kenealy to a friend, advising 
 Lady Lytton to proceed for a divorce, and assuring 
 
 * Lady Lytton allowed this maid, who died of a long and painful 
 illness, ^^20 a year. 
 
DR. KENEALY. 375 
 
 her that no funds were necessary, as the husband 
 would have to pay all expenses. He also expresses 
 a desire to know whether there was any truth in the 
 report which Lord Lytton sedulously propagated 
 that his wife had herself committed adultery, and 
 was thereby debarred from taking any action against 
 him, and advises that before publishing the proposed 
 account of his behaviour her friends should try to 
 ascertain if Lord Lytton had any chance of proving 
 his allegations. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the real reason why Lady 
 Lytton shrank from divorce proceedings was a 
 promise she had made to her son while she was 
 incarcerated in the madhouse. The libels which Lord 
 Lytton promulgated about his wife were utterly 
 destitute of foundation, and as cruel as they were 
 baseless. 
 
 Dr. Kenealy subsequently wrote on October 
 13th:— 
 
 " I am very much pleased with your packet of notes 
 received this morning, the postscript to one of which leaves 
 no doubt on my mind that I have been misinformed, and 
 redoubles my indignation against a wretch capable of so 
 vile and odious a falsehood, disseminated, I have no doubt, 
 widely, and emanating directly from himself at his own 
 table." 
 
 In the following a lady plainly informs Lady 
 Lytton of the slanders which were current against 
 her : — 
 
 " October 2()tk, 1867. 
 
 " My dear Lady Lytton, — 
 
 " I think it is best and fairest always to tell the 
 exact truth. One of the gentlemen whom I have interested 
 
376 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 in your affairs lias just come down from town to see me 
 and speak about you. It appears tliat things are paralysed 
 owing to some reports having been brought to them 
 regarding certain tales which they hav^e been told were 
 public and notorious at Florence regarding your con- 
 duct while residing there. They say naturally it would 
 be utter madness, indeed they positively decline having 
 any hand in publishing anything or making any public 
 appeal, unless there can be some absolute denial given 
 to this, and unless they can be put in communication 
 with persons who can absolutely and authoritatively refute 
 the report of misconduct on your part. What am I to 
 say ? The mere fact of my simply stating my unbelief is 
 useless. Do pray show me how your innocence of all 
 cause for scandal can be established past contradiction." 
 
 From a Friend. 
 
 " Oaohr ^ist, 1867. 
 
 " I enclose Lady L.'s letter. I am surprised how quietly 
 she has taken this, and also the letter I sent her before of 
 Dr. Kenealy's. I fear you will think that I did too much, 
 as she spoke of the baseness of the accusation in telling 
 
 her this scandal connected her name with a Mr. . 
 
 I have written in confidence to ask some of Mr. 's 
 
 friends likely to know what was passing at Florence twenty- 
 five years ago." 
 
 From a Friend. 
 
 " N'ovember 4//;, 1867. 
 
 " I send you this letter of Lady Lytton's, as it is all 
 literary, in reply to my asking why she did not do some- 
 thing in the book way for her necessities. You will see 
 how the ground has been cut from under her, as she says, 
 and as you understand these things, you will appreciate the 
 situation. I had asked if any of the tradesmen had entered 
 an action against Lord L. ; she at first said she believed 
 
 not, but she wrote to , the money-lender, who has her 
 
 in his power, and she sends me his letter to-day, saying 
 that they or some of them had entered an action, think- 
 ing it would bring Lord L. to. However, that it had 
 
ANOTHER FAILURE. 377 
 
 not done, and he supposed the action still lies with, he 
 presumes, Lord L.'s appearance against it. He sent her 
 yesterday exactly the moneys she had borrowed. She 
 thought she was borrowing two sums of ;^75o at ten per 
 cent., whereas she found out afterwards that she had agreed 
 to pay iJ"40 in thirty quarterly instalments, so that in the end 
 she will have paid ^1,200 for the £7^0. She is now so 
 entangled that I do not see how she can be disentangled." 
 
 From a Friend. 
 
 ^^ NovembtT, 1867. 
 
 " In reply to your letter relative to the two headings of 
 'Letter' and 'Narrative,' Lady Lytton says, 'To tell the 
 truth, I don't care how it is done so long as it is done.' 
 She wrote from her bed, poor woman, in a handwriting very 
 unlike her usual one. She seems to be very ill. I think 
 she is anxious not only to pay her debts, but to put her 
 name before the world with truth and let it know how 
 ill-used she has been before earth closes over her, and none 
 are left to vindicate her character." 
 
 On the 6th of November, 1867, Dr. Kenealy 
 writes to say that he is so overpowered with business 
 as to be quite unable to devote much time to Lady 
 Lytton's proposed letter, but that if she will send 
 her MS., he will correct and revise it. And the MS. 
 was accordingly sent, and subsequently returned to 
 Lady Lytton. No practical result, however, fol- 
 lowed these negotiations, and Lady Lytton's hopes 
 were once more doomed to disappointment. 
 
 A scheme for a public subscription was eventually 
 abandoned, and neither Dr. Kenealy nor any of the 
 other gentlemen who professed themselves so anxious 
 to serve her cause ever succeeded in finding time or 
 opportunity for advancing it. Meanwhile the un- 
 fortunate lady's embarrassments increased instead of 
 
3/8 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 diminishing, and the following extracts from her 
 letters to friends may serve to show the despair into 
 which these repeated disappointments had plunged 
 her : — 
 
 "Brenton Villa, Taunton, 
 
 '■^ Noz'einber 2'yd, 1867. 
 
 " Having this morning received, for the first time, a paper 
 of ' headings ' or a prospectus of what ought to have been 
 done in the matter of my appealing to the public vici a 
 letter to the Queen, like all English plans for the redress of 
 public or private grievances, it is so redolent of I esprit du 
 Iciideviain that in self-defence I must trouble you with a 
 resinnc of this more than painful subject. When Mrs. 
 
 , with the kindest intentions, more than two months 
 
 ago told me she had applied to you to do what neither my 
 too burning and bitter sense of chronic outrage enables me 
 morally to do, nor my present miserable health leaves me 
 power to undertake, I thought it exceedingly kind of her 
 to enlist you in the cause and equally kind of you to be so 
 
 enlisted. Well, poor Mrs. , in her great kindness of 
 
 heart, ^^7'^ you that MS. narrating my Lord Lytton's mad- 
 house conspiracy, which was written as one would write a 
 private letter, writhing under a sense of cruel wrong, and 
 never, beyond the mere facts, intended for publication.* 
 The first douche of iced water I got in this too cruel 
 phantom of false hope and factitious help was your pious 
 horror, sir, of my ' violent language,' while the unparalleled 
 infamy which had caused it did not seem to elicit the 
 slightest surprise. The ' certainty ' was a poor foundation 
 to build any chance of success upon; nevertheless, when Mrs. 
 
 informed me of this, and said the language must be 
 
 altered, I gave her carte blanche to do this, or, as I wrote, 
 gratefully accepted the offer ' to have my claws cut, and my 
 teeth drawn.' 
 
 " Then ensued more talk, more ruinous delays, and up 
 
 *This statement is highly important, bearing in mind the fact that 
 this MS., under the name of " A BHghted Life," was afterwards 
 published without Lady Lytton's knowledge or authority. — L. D. 
 
FRESH DISAPPOINTMENTS. 379 
 
 sprang a crop of frivolous and vexatious chimerical 
 obstacles, so that I soon perceived that the only efforts 
 being made were those of how not to do anything in the 
 matter ; next came the coup dc theatre of all the Knebworth 
 lies, which were duly conveyed to me, and when I had been 
 effectually tortured and insulted in every way I considered 
 
 the matter was at an end. Mrs. , it is true, wrote me 
 
 word after this, saying, ' And now I have all my work to 
 do over again.' What this meant I could not tell, but lo ! 
 soon after arrives Mr. Kenealy's note about my writing a 
 letter to the Queen, which he would correct, and then came 
 
 one of Mrs. 's telegrams, in which she said, ' If you have 
 
 not got the headings ' (headings of what .''), ' Mr. will 
 
 write them over again.' Now, as this was the very first I 
 had heard of any headings, though they were mentioned as 
 if I was perfectly an fait with them, and in the note in 
 
 which Mrs. enclosed Dr. K 's letter to you there 
 
 was no reference made to any ' headings,' I felt not only 
 mystified, but insulted, as if all this was done to make my 
 last chance impossible ; that this method was resorted to in 
 order to goad me into taking the initiative of ending it, 
 which I did in such a summary way that I have no doubt 
 Dr. Kenealy might do my Lord Lytton further service by 
 endorsing his assertion of my being a mad woman. Mrs. 
 
 — ■ — also told me in a former letter, ' Mr. has arranged 
 
 all the narrative,' and yet afterwards in another letter telling 
 me she had got the MS. back, she adds, 'It has not been 
 touched.' Now how does that tally with your having 
 arranged it all 1 and what was I to make out of such a 
 cruel and unfathomable muddle of cross purposes, what but 
 to add another proof of the truth of the old saying, ' Mieux 
 vaut au sage ennemi qu'un maladroit ami ' .'' 
 
 " The paper of headings and the prospectus would have 
 been invaluable to me had I received them six weeks ago, 
 whereas, now that the evil and the failure are accomplished, 
 it is only a bitter, cruel, and most superfluous mockery to 
 send them. But it is the old — world-old — story, for history 
 and fate are always repeating themselves. ' Ah, cruel friend, 
 had you only written me this letter while I was at Athens, 
 
380 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 I should not now be eating figs at Syracuse.' My position 
 is truly frightful, and so imminently perilous that anywhere 
 but in England the very stones might be moved to com- 
 passion. I beg, sir, you will accept my apologies for all 
 the trouble you have had in this truly unfortunate affair." 
 
 From a Friend. 
 
 '^ December ()th, 1867. 
 
 " I spoke to Mr. of the bitter disappointment I had 
 
 had and was forced to inflict upon you. Now I am going 
 to take upon myself to authorise him to lay the deed of 
 settlement before counsel. As we know Lord Lytton 
 cannot lay any charge of adultery against you, / have 
 always thought that your best chance was to claim an in- 
 crease of allowance. At all events, no harm can be done by 
 taking counsel's opinion on the deed. 
 
 " I have returned from Chancery Lane ; how can I write 
 what I have to say .'' I really am distressed, and more than 
 distressed, to tell you that the whole thing has failed. I 
 had a long interview with the lawyer, but the more he 
 conned over the terms of your settlement the less he 
 could, in common honesty to his clients, recommend 
 them to grant this insurance from the clause empowering 
 Lord Lytton to stop the ;^500 a year in the event of your 
 doing anything which he might consider annoyance and 
 molestation, thus rendering your settlement liable to con- 
 tingencies which might arise, and which prevents your 
 settlement from being the slightest security. I am really 
 quite upset by this failure, for I very stupidly did not look 
 on that clause in the light in which I now see it. I am so 
 distressed for you and your disappointment, I can find no 
 words adequately to express my feelings. The lawyer 
 said he had heard from a friend now dead of instances of 
 Lord Lytton's conduct to you which, if his friend had 
 not vouched for the truth of them, he could not have be- 
 lieved. Once he was present on an occasion when Lord 
 Lytton threw a glass of wine in your face." 
 
 It was not until 1874, after her husband's death, 
 
A FUTILE APPLICATION. 38 I 
 
 that Lady Lyttton was enabled to effect with an 
 insurance office the loan to which the above letter 
 refers. 
 
 Dr. Roberts writes : — 
 
 " December \^k, 1867. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that you have failed in your 
 endeavour to obtain a loan from the insurance office. I 
 cannot devise any means for obtaining the sum Lady 
 Lytton requires. We must, therefore, as a forlorn hope, 
 apply again to Lord Lytton. I have written to his 
 Lordship on the subject." 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to add that Dr. Roberts' 
 appeal was again unsuccessful. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 "a blighted life." CONCLUSION. 
 
 Lady Lytton continued to live at Taunton in the 
 same miserably embarrassed condition until the 
 death of her husband, which took place in January, 
 1873. In October of the same year, her son offered 
 her an additional allowance of ^200 a year, which 
 she at first refused to accept, but was afterwards 
 persuaded by Dr. Roberts and other friends to avail 
 herself of In the following year (October, 1874), 
 Lady Lytton removed to Upper Norwood, but the 
 house taken for her by her trustee being unsuitable 
 to her requirements, she quitted it early in 1875 for 
 " Glenomera," a small house at Upper Sydenham, 
 where she spent the remaining years of her life. 
 The circumstances under which that allowance was 
 withdrawn in 1880 need a few words of explanation. 
 I have already given some account of the scheme by 
 which it was proposed to lay Lady Lytton's wrongs 
 before the public in the form of a letter to the 
 Queen, and of the part played in it by Dr. Kenealy 
 and other gentlemen. Lady Lytton's MS., which 
 these gentlemen had undertaken to edit and revise, 
 was, as a matter of fact, returned to her absolutely 
 untouched, the plan fell through, and all idea of 
 publishing it was abandoned. But in 1880, to 
 
"A BLIGHTED LIFE." 383 
 
 Lady Lytton's unbounded horror and amazement, 
 this identical MS. appeared in print with her own 
 name attached to it, in its original form, and contain- 
 ing every word of the undoubtedly strong language 
 in which she had detailed her sufferings for the 
 information of her own friends, and not for that 
 of the public. But the facts of the case had better 
 be set forth as she described them, in a pamphlet 
 issued by way of refuting this audacious forgery of 
 her name. The following extracts sufficiently ex- 
 plain the circumstances : — 
 
 " That the Dowager Lady Lytton's life has been ' A 
 Blighted Life ' is a sad and undoubted truth ; but that she 
 has had any knowledge of, or part in^ the publication of 
 a recent work bearing that title, she and those who know 
 all the facts distinctly and most solemnly deny. She was 
 equally amazed and indignant when, many weeks after the 
 appearance of this catch-penny, it came to her knowledge ; 
 and that its editor, not content with the violation of all 
 honour and probity, in pirating and publishing a private 
 correspondence of hers, that had unfortunately been 
 entrusted to Dr. Kenealy in 1866, had actually forged 
 her name on the title-page, as if it had just issued fresh 
 from this poor outraged lady's hands, when in reality the 
 shock of this totally unexpected blow caused her a severe 
 fit of illness. But in order to make the facts of this most 
 iniquitous proceeding intelligible to the reader, these facts 
 must be stated categorically, which shall be done as 
 concisely as lucidity will allow. 
 
 " First, premising that the moment the Dowager Lady 
 Lytton heard of this most shameful outrage, she resolved 
 to bring an action against its perpetrator ; but upon con- 
 sulting her solicitor, she had of course to run the blockade 
 of all the obstacles usually thrown in the way of poor and 
 therefore defenceless women. She was strongly dissuaded 
 from any such course, as it would be sure to give this 
 
384 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 catch-penny additional sale and circulation, and raise a 
 hornet's nest about her ears. 
 
 " She then thought that she would at least have the poor 
 alternative of publishing a disclaimer as to all knowledge 
 of, much less complicity in, this cruel outrage against herself, 
 via an advertisement in a number of the leading news- 
 papers. But here again she reckoned without her host. 
 The Times would not insert it unless some gentleman of 
 standing and position guaranteed the proprietors against 
 an action, not a very easy thing to obtain, as no one cared 
 to be mixed up in such a case. Bref, no journal would 
 insert her denial, with one honourable exception, TriitJi, 
 which, true to its name, did publish her refutation. 
 
 " And now to explain how the Dowager Lady Lytton's 
 letters came to be made so shameful and dishonourable 
 a means of outraging and injuring her. 
 
 " So far back as 1866, a literary gentleman made a public 
 appeal, via the press, to all persons who could furnish him 
 with authentic experiences of unjust and illegal incarcera- 
 tion in madhouses. 
 
 " Now as, some eight years before this, the Dowager 
 Lady Lytton, as the public were well aware, had been a 
 very signal instance of this peculiar species of injustice, 
 as public indignation it was which, in three weeks, liberated 
 her from durance, and as she was writhing under all the 
 falsehoods and false promises that had been resorted to to 
 gag her when thus forced out of the madhouse, every faith 
 having been broken with her when once the safety of her 
 oppressor had been secured, she, in an evil hour, sent 
 a statement of her case, written in desperate haste, in 
 every sense of the term, to this literary 'gentleman,' who 
 was also in such haste to expose the terrible abuses of the 
 lunacy laws, and have them altered, and who kept her 
 statement five months, and then returned it to her, not 
 having stirred a finger to redress her wrongs, or reform 
 the laws in question. 
 
 "A friend wishing to know the history of Lad\' Lytton's 
 incarceration, the latter sent this same statement to her, 
 with a permission to let the truth be known as widely as 
 
A REFUTATION. 385 
 
 possible short of publication. 'But, oh, the horribly strong 
 and violent language, so unladylike, so unwomanly ! ' say 
 the readers of that statement. Alas ! yes, and deeply 
 do her friends deplore that she should have been goaded 
 into using such, and no one more sincerely deplores it 
 than herself, to whom it has done more harm than any- 
 body else. But if persons would sometimes 
 
 ' Look into their own hearts 
 For the key to others' lives,' 
 
 it would explain, if not atone, for a great many mysteries 
 now masquerading about the world. 
 
 " Just let any impartial and equitable human being for 
 one moment put him or herself in the place of this cruelly 
 outraged and utterly defenceless woman, betrayed on all 
 sides, fresh calumnies continually being disseminated 
 against her, with every channel both of refutation and 
 redress closed to her ; what wonder .^ for indeed the 
 wonder would have been if she had not done so. We 
 repeat it, what wonder, so long and so uniquely tried, if 
 she Jiad been goaded past endurance into following 
 Quintilian's rule for forcible writing, i.e., 'always to adapt 
 your language to the subject upon which you are speaking 
 or writing ' } 
 
 " But to return to this ill-fated MS. The lady to whom 
 Lady Lytton had sent it, with reiterated injunctions that 
 it was not for publication, only as a sort of memoire pour 
 servir for any calm dispassionate statement that might be 
 drawn up on her behalf, in an evil hour, but with the best 
 intentions, sent it to a then rising barrister, and so far no 
 possible blame could be attached to this lady, as the 
 reputation of the barrister in question was at that time 
 unimpeached ; his unenviable notoriety at a later period of 
 his career she could not have foreseen. 
 
 " All possible pressure was put on her to let the case go 
 into court, but she had repeatedly assured her friend that 
 no amount of provocation would ever make her consent to 
 that, as eight years before she had promised her son, at 
 the sacrifice of her own interests, that she would never 
 
 25 
 
386 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 expose his father in open court. Then the venue was 
 changed, and the barrister in question was to write a sort 
 of pamphlet containing a calm judicial statement of the 
 Dowager Lady Lytton's persecution so far as the phase 
 of the madhouse conspiracy went, which was already so 
 notoriously known to the public. ' For,' wrote her friend, 
 ' he says your MS. is so full of libels that it could not be 
 published.' To which Lady Lytton somewhat indignantly 
 replied, ' Of course not ; for, as I have stringently tried to 
 impress upon you from the first, it was especially pro- 
 hibited to be published.' 
 
 " Well, at the end of five weeks the rising barrister was 
 overwhelmed with sorrow ! But he found he had such 
 a press of business that he could not fulfil his promise 
 about the pamphlet. 
 
 " Lady Lytton's friend after this second failure then, 
 through another gentleman, a mutual friend of hers and 
 of the barrister's, wanted Lady Lytton to undertake the 
 pamphlet affair herself, but she, being heartily sick of the 
 whole thing, explicitly refused to do so. And now comes 
 the most mysterious and inexplicable part of this iniqui- 
 tous affair. 
 
 "In 1866 her MS. was duly returned to her, and has 
 been carefully locked up in a despatch box in her 
 possession ever since ; so how any one could come by it 
 to commit the gross outrage upon her by publishing it, 
 and springing this mine under her in this present year 
 1880, passes her and all her friends' comprehension, and 
 the only conclusion that either she or they can arrive at 
 is that it must most unwarrantably and dishonourably have 
 been copied by some person fourteen years ago, when 
 in the rising barrister's possession." 
 
 The pamphlet goes on to mention the additional 
 allov^ance of ^200 a year granted to his mother 
 by the present Lord Lytton shortly after his father's 
 death in 1873, which at first she refused to accept. 
 
 "For a year and a half she firmly adhered to this 
 
A WELL-MEANT TRAP. 387 
 
 resolution, despite innumerable schemes and stratagems on 
 the part of her trustee, Dr. Roberts, to beguile her into 
 taking it.* In 1874 this trustee took a house for her at 
 Upper Norwood, and he very kindly, as she thought, 
 insisted on lending her ;^300 at three per cent, to pay a 
 premium on this house. But ever on her guard about that 
 ^200, and aware that the year and a half he had been 
 trying to induce her to take would just make ;^300, she 
 looked him full in the face and said, ' Now, Dr. Roberts, 
 can you and will you give me your solemn word of honour 
 that this is not Lord Lytton's bitter pill of ;^200 a year 
 that you are wrapping up in the currant jelly of pretended 
 kindness to get me to swallow ? ' 
 
 "'I give you my word of honour,' he replied, 'that it 
 has nothing to do with Lord Lytton's money. Should I 
 take three per cent, from you if it had .'' ' 
 
 " ' Oh ! cela est im detail, as the French say, and there 
 is no going to a masquerade without a mask,' said Lady 
 Lytton, still far from satisfied, and before taking this 
 money, she sent a lady to catechise him the next day. 
 To this lady he went through the same manage, and 
 assured her that the ;^300 he had offered Lady Lytton 
 had nothing on earth to do with Lord Lytton's money. 
 
 " Lady Lytton at length accepted it, but no sooner had 
 she paid it away to her landlord than her trustee laughed 
 in her face, and owned that this i^300 was Lord Lytton's 
 year and a half — ;^200 a year — adding, ' I knew I should 
 never get you to take it unless I deceived you into it ! ' 
 at which she, poor victim, was naturally most bitterly 
 indignant. ' But,' said her trustee, ' how upon earth can 
 you possibly exist without it > It is quite bad and 
 difficult enough to pinch on as it is, for since that mortgage 
 of i^i,500, you have to pay £64. 5^-. a quarter, which leaves 
 
 * In June, 1874, Dr. Roberts saying that he had seen a benevolent 
 old lady who insisted upon Lady L3rtton's acceptance of ^250, as a 
 small relief from her wants, Lady Lytton endorses the letter, " Poor 
 
 Dr. Roberts' last attempt to smuggle Lord L 's ^250 into my 
 
 pocket under the myth of a benevolent old lady's gift ! No, no, that 
 won't do ! ' Marchand d'oignons s'y connait en ciboules.' " — L. D. 
 
388 I.IFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 you just ;{;^444 a year, includinf^ this ;^200 a year, to 
 struggle hard upon, and you must hve.' 
 
 " Now the effect of the pubUcation of that most iniqui- 
 tous catch-penny ' A Bhghted Life ' was that very shortly 
 after {i.e., last October, when her quarterly pittance was 
 due) her present bankers, Messrs. Coutts, informed her that 
 only £\2^, viz., her own i^soo a year, had been paid in to 
 her account, whereupon the same friend who had thrown 
 herself into the breach about her former banking difficulties 
 went to Coutts's and found such was the fact, so she went 
 from thence to Cavendish Square to Sir S. Scott (Lord 
 Lytton's banker) to inquire the cause of this. They did 
 not know, but informed her Lord Lytton had given orders 
 to reduce the ;^700 a year paid to the Dowager Lady 
 
 Lytton to /^500.* 
 
 ***** 
 
 " We have only to add that in allowing her friends to 
 make the foregoing statement, the Dowager Lady Lytton 
 has but one motive, one aim, purely and simply in view : 
 certainly not to expose her enemies, but to exonerate 
 herself from the odious calumny of having published that 
 cruel outrage upon herself and violation of all honour and 
 honesty entitled ' A Blighted Life.' " 
 
 The pamphlet is endorsed by Lady Lytton as 
 follows : — 
 
 " I certify that every circumstance narrated in the fore- 
 going statement is strictly true. 
 
 " RosiNA Lytton, Dowager, December i^tli, 1880." 
 
 There are but a few more facts to narrate before 
 I close this melancholy history. For the last seven 
 years of her life Lady Lytton resided at a small 
 
 * This allowance was afterwards renewed by Lord Lytton, presum- 
 ably because he discovered that his mother had nothing to do with 
 the publication of "A Blighted Life," and paid down to the day of 
 her death.— L. D. 
 
CONCLUSION. 389 
 
 house, " Glenomera," at Upper Sydenham, latterly 
 with only one servant. She rarely left her room, 
 and the house once only during the last five years. 
 Naturally of a too generous disposition,* wholly 
 unselfish, and frequently left to the care of a servant 
 who was equally unable to comprehend or to supply 
 her requirements, she could hardly have lived so 
 long had it not been for friends who commiserated 
 her neglected and desolate condition, and tried to 
 alleviate her sorrows and to supply what were really 
 necessities by assisting her to the utmost extent of 
 their ability. Although in her eightieth year, she 
 possessed to the last the remains of a beauty that 
 had been so noted in her youth Neither her 
 general tone nor manners had deteriorated through 
 adversity, but remained to the last as distinguished 
 as they were polished and winning. She was full of 
 anecdote and wit, and though not reticent on the 
 subject of her wrongs, she never failed to impress 
 upon her hearers a feeling of sadness and regret 
 that so much capacity for all that was loving and 
 affectionate had been so ruthlessly destroyed by 
 neglect, wTong, and persecution. No one can 
 defend some of her published extravagances, but 
 our blame should more justly be laid upon those 
 who abused her highly sensitive nature, and induced 
 those feelings of exasperation under the infliction 
 of wrong which she had no other opportunity to 
 express. 
 
 * Numerous letters of gratitude bear witness to her charitable 
 deeds, which were strictly guided by the injunction, "Let not thy 
 right hand know what thy left hand doeth." Even when in very 
 straitened circumstances, and up to the day of her death, she assisted 
 a relative of her husband, who isjstill living. — L. D. 
 
390 LIFE OF LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Worn out by sorrow, afflicted with much bodily- 
 suffering, and tormented with constant mental 
 distress, this poor lady died rather suddenly on the- 
 12th of March, 1882, in her eightieth year. 
 
 Her funeral was paid for by the present Earl ; 
 the only followers were Air. Shakespeare, the 
 solicitor representing the Earl of Lytton, the 
 Rev. Freeman Wills, a distant relative of Lady 
 Lytton, Mr. Ancona, a friend, and the Misses 
 Devey, her coexecutrices. Her remains are buried 
 in the pretty churchyard of St. John the Evangelist 
 at Shirley, in Surrey. There is no monument over 
 the grave, but facing the foot one has been erected 
 to her memory by those who loved her, which 
 marks it sufficiently for identification. Her furniture 
 and effects were sold by auction, and realised a sum 
 which enabled the solicitors to the executrices to 
 distribute among her few remaining creditors a 
 dividend of about ten shillings in the pound. 
 
 In her will * she expressed a wish to have 
 inscribed on the tombstone (which does not exist) 
 the following words (Isa. xiv. 3), with which I may 
 fittingly conclude this work : — 
 
 " The Lord shall give thee rest from thy sorrow, and 
 from thy fear, and from the hard bondage wherein thou 
 wast made to serve." 
 
 * See Appendix IV. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX I. 
 
 "LADY BULWER LYTTON'S APPEAL TO THE JUSTICE 
 AND CHARITY OF THE ENGLISH PUBLIC." 
 
 This pamphlet was printed and published in 1857 by 
 Mr. Isaac Ironside at the Free Press Office, Fargate, 
 Sheffield, and enjoyed at one period a considerable circula- 
 tion. It contained an account of Lady Lytton's wrongs, 
 or rather of some of the most flagrant of them, and as 
 most of the matters alluded to have already been detailed 
 in the foregoing narrative, I do not propose to reproduce it 
 in exteiiso, but merely to append a few extracts. 
 
 " Preliminary Announcement. 
 
 " The following appeal to public justice and public 
 charity was intended as a preface to a second edition of 
 ' Very Successful,' but Lady Bulwer Lytton's lawyer has 
 just returned from London, having found it impossible to 
 obtain a publisher, from a threat having been ubiquitously 
 circulated through 'the trade' that an injunction* would 
 be obtained against the work if republished. Now, this is 
 a mere threat, and nothing more, as even ' the trade ' are 
 well aware, that the FACT-exposing ordeal of a court of 
 justice is the very last that any of the dramatis personcd of 
 ' Very Successful ' would subject themselves to ; but as the 
 bare threat effectually answers their leader's noble (!) and 
 gentlemanlike (!) purpose of starving the authoress out of the 
 market, and involving her in the most utter pecuniary ruin, 
 she can only more urgently reiterate her appeal to public 
 charity, by stating that subscriptions of ;^i \\s. 6d. sent to 
 
 * And yet what lost labour, as no injunction can be threatened, 
 much less got, against the recording angel's eternal archives ! 
 
394 APPENDIX. 
 
 Lady Bulwer Lytton, care of Mr. W. Bragg, librarian. 
 Parade, Taunton, Somerset, will be most gratefully acknow- 
 ledged, and a copy of the book forwarded to any address. 
 As, amid modern progressions, there are yet no workhouses 
 for the destitute wives of rich men, Lady Bulwer Lytton, as 
 her last hope, trusts this appeal to public charity will not 
 be made in vain. 
 
 ******* 
 
 " She wishes it to be clearly understood that this is a 
 painful and crying appeal to public CHARITY and not to 
 public sympathy ; for she is well aware that in a state 
 of society where every vice is not only chartered, but 
 adulated, in men, there is no sympathy for a woman who, 
 passing the conventional Rubicon, presumes to complain, let 
 her outrages be what they may, more especially if she has 
 not made to herself friends of the mammon of unrighteous- 
 ness among men. Accustomed as she now so long has been 
 year after year, and day after day, to curtail some comfort 
 or some absolute necessary, a little more or a little less to 
 her individually could certainly never drive her into appeal- 
 ing to PUBLIC CHARITY ! but the claims that others have 
 on her have ; and therefore it behoves her to leave no stone 
 unturned or unbroken, however painful and humiliating the 
 task may be, to prevent herself being made a compulsory 
 
 swindler. 
 
 ******* 
 
 " ' The ruinous climax of this conspiracy to suppress my 
 only means of subsistence ' (her novels) ' necessitates my 
 making ONE more appeal to the candour and conscience of 
 the public, in anticipation of the one-sided anathema that 
 awaits a woman, under any outrages, under the hot pres- 
 sure of any provocation, daring to expose the conven- 
 tionally held sacred vices of a husband. But it is to YOU, 
 GOOD men and true, who have no such sins to answer for, 
 that I appeal, and of YOU I ask out of the bitter agony of 
 my own heart. 
 
 " ' Oh ! women of England, in your happy homes — u ives, 
 mothers, and daughters — how would you feel, how would 
 you act under similar outrages, if such should befall you } 
 
APPENDIX. 395 
 
 which God forbid ! How would you like to have had 
 your first child turned out of the house the moment it 
 was born, with the summary announcement from your 
 lord and master that " he would not have your time and 
 
 attention taken 7ip zvith any d d child " ? And though 
 
 in after-years a whole page in a stilted novel {vide 
 " Zanoni ") might be devoted to blowing prismatic bubbles 
 about the "depth and purity of a father's love for his first- 
 born " — as a few natural feelings on paper entail neither 
 trouble nor expense, but are, on the contrary, extremely 
 lucrative — I doubt whether this public tribute would not in 
 your hearts, as well as in mine, instead of atoning for (on 
 account of that greatest of all irritants — hypocrisy !), have 
 still further lacerated the wound caused by this brutal 
 private fact. The mode in which I was expelled from my 
 home I have already told you, for Sir Edward Bulwer 
 Lytton is a " great man " (.^), and the world is a poor little 
 miserable narrow world, and there is only room for him in 
 it, so his wife being in the way, he kicked her out of it ; 
 his children were in his way, so he suppressed them ; God's 
 commandments were in his way, so he broke them. It is 
 his own confession that I had been to him an incom- 
 parable wife. I will not take any credit to myself for 
 an endurance I cannot call heroic, since it had too much 
 abject physical fear in it to deserve that name ; but I dia 
 return good for evil ; I did for nine miserable years, under 
 every outrage, injury, and provocation that a wife could be 
 subjected to, conceal and forgive what I never ought to 
 have forgiven. In moral England, where there is no redress 
 lor moral injuries, had I rushed to a magistrate with my 
 hanging, bleeding cheek, for this ONE bit of quivering flesh 
 I could have got an equally fragmentary piece of vulgar 
 redress ; but there is none for a whole being and an im- 
 mortal soul far worse tortured. 
 
 " ' So far, however, from exposing the perpetration of 
 this outrage, and many others, as I ought to have done, 1 
 hushed it up, and actually compassionated into an object 
 of deferential forbearance the poor creature who had so 
 degraded himself, in return for which, some months after. 
 
39^ APPENDIX. 
 
 he turned me and my children out of our home, that 
 he might pursue his career of unbridled profligacy with- 
 out even the nominal restraint of our presence ; and when 
 I reminded him that when / had it in my power to 
 crush and fully expose him I had shielded and for- 
 given him, his answer was neither polished as to style 
 nor profound in anything save cold-blooded brutality, 
 for it was " More fool you ! for I'll not give you another 
 opportunity." Oh, shade of Goethe ! pardon that I should, 
 with all your cold calculated profligacy, have compared 
 you to this man ! for yon^ who really had a drunken 
 termagant of a wife, knowing your own delinquencies, 
 yet treated her with the greatest kindness, endurance, 
 and forbearance. But all this was only to me, when 
 the tragedy progressed, and the heroine became my own 
 child — she who had been turned out of the house the 
 moment she was born. My endurance was exhausted, 
 which no doubt was very wrong, as of course, looking 
 back, I should have remembered that the cries of an infant, 
 like the tears of a mother, come under the head of "IN- 
 COMPATIBILITY OF TEMPER!" and justified marital 
 supremacy in any cruelties it might like to exercise. The 
 next thing I heard of this poor young victim, on my return 
 to England, was that she was dying alone in a miserable 
 lodging at Brompton, and this I heard through one of 
 those strange " chances " which, when we find in works of 
 fiction, are called improbably romantic, but which in real 
 life so often contradict experience and distance probability. 
 I could not, had I space, dwell on this last fearful act of 
 Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton's only original drama ; may it 
 remain unique as well as original ! Enough to state that 
 I saw while she slept the poor young ruin. Unseen by, un- 
 known to her, I supplied the wants where everything was 
 wanting. I heard the poor young martyr's praises of the 
 beverages the nurse brought her, saying, " Oh, Mrs. Bruce, 
 how good everything is to-day ! Do you know, they re- 
 mind me of poor dear mamma. He says she does not care 
 for us, but I know everything now." And again through 
 that fearful night, as 1 lay like a dog across the threshold 
 
APPENDIX. 397 
 
 of her open door, I heard her tell the nurse, as a sort of ex- 
 planation of her illness, how she had been slaved to death 
 over her father's German translations, and I bit my lips 
 through till the blood came, to prevent a shriek of agony- 
 escaping me. But even tJiis Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton 
 thought too great a luxury for me, and so, my arrival 
 having been betrayed by an apothecary of the name of 
 Rouse, he had me forcibly dragged from the house the 
 next day. But in stirring up these ashes of the past, I 
 am desecrating my own heart ; and it is the present 
 maelstrom of misery — vulgar pecuniary ruin — which this 
 last conspiracy has entailed upon me which makes me 
 reiterate my urgent appeal to your charity ; for indeed a 
 strong-minded man, forgetting that, whoever and whatever 
 His instruments may be, it is God who ordains the blows, 
 would load a pistol, and enter an impious caveat against 
 His decrees; but "I will trust Him though He slay me," 
 and hope in you to whom I appeal. I am no hypocrite. 
 Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton has circled my life with a 
 snare, and crowned it with a curse; my miserable, lonely, 
 laborious, and disinherited existence he has made ONE 
 GREAT AGONY, composed of innumerable exquisite, infini- 
 tesimal tortures, for each and all of which, as there is 
 BUT ONE SOURCE, I have but ONE NAME ; surely to the 
 most forbearing and least logical mind the inference is 
 obvious. " But forgiveness } " I hear the word ; I acknow- 
 ledge the strong claim the Redeemer of the world has 
 given it upon every erring heart. BUT DOES GOD HIM- 
 SELF FORGIVE TILL HiS FORGIVENESS IS ASKED ? OR 
 CAN EVEN He be APPEASED WITHOUT REPENTANCE AND 
 CESSATION FROM SIN ? 
 
 "'RosiNA Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 '"Marck, 1857.'" 
 
APPENDIX II. 
 
 NOTES BY MRS. CURTEIS WHELAN. 
 
 "And Lady Lytton, was she so very beautiful ?" 
 
 This question was put to me quite recently, by one who 
 wished to hear some particulars of my dearly loved friend 
 
 Rosina, wife of the first Baron ,and his victim — victim of 
 
 a man whose whole nature was so intensely selfish, that it 
 had not an inch of space for anything that did not satisfy 
 the greedy adulation of himself, in which he had been 
 born and bred. Until his deluded wife discovered (which she 
 did very early after her marriage) what was the idol he 
 really worshipped, she had been induced to believe that 
 she was the object of his adoration.* And she had yielded 
 her whole most noble nature to the insinuating and snake- 
 like fascination of being idolised by a young man of at 
 that period trifling literary merit, good lineage, and in a 
 presumptively good monetary position, for his income was 
 very small, and depended in a great measure on the 
 caprice of his mother and his own pen, while Rosina 
 Wheeler, I have always understood, had at least ^^300 a 
 year when she married. She was at the time of her 
 introduction into London society " one of the most, if 
 not the most beautiful girl that was ever seen," as the 
 Hon. Mr. Edmund Byng, who was a most intimate friend 
 of my own, told me, and a fact of which many others, 
 amongst them those of her own sex and rank (not usually 
 given to speak rapturously of one another), have repeatedly 
 
 * Vide the" dedication of "Owen," one of Bulwer's first poems, 
 to her. 
 
APPENDIX. 399 
 
 assured me when I was mixing in society, and I was known 
 to be very intimate with her in 1847 ^"d for some years 
 afterwards, when my own great admiration of, and love 
 for her was, as a Hterary lady said to me, " quite a 
 proverb." 
 
 The form of Lady Lytton's head was one of her many 
 beauties. Her hair was of a beautiful dark brown, her eyes 
 indescribable as to colour and expression, ever varying with 
 each emotion, so lustrous, so sweet, so tender and starlike, 
 but when roused by her wrongs and cruel treatment, they 
 shone with the greatest indignation and contempt. Her 
 mouth was a true Cupid's bow, her straight, delicately- 
 shaped nose of the most refined type, with arched nostrils, 
 and her eyebrows, so delicately pencilled, and forehead were 
 perfect. 
 
 When I first saw her at a garden party at the Countess 
 of Harrington's (then Mrs. Leicester Stanhope) she was 
 just past her prime, but gloriously beautiful still, and she 
 retained her beauty to old age, for I spent some time with 
 her in 1869 at Brenton Villa, Taunton, a few years after 
 she had been released from the madhouse in which her 
 wretched husband incarcerated her, and from which he 
 had orders from high quarters to release her, and that 
 quickly, on pain of forfeiting his seat in the Cabinet of 
 the late Lord Derby. I am told by those who witnessed 
 her suffering life near its end (unhappily I was out of 
 England at the time) that she was even then a most hand- 
 some woman. 
 
 Many an hour have I wept with her over the cruel and 
 bitter wrongs to which she was perpetually subjected by 
 the man who had vowed before God to " forsake all other " 
 and " cherish her in sickness and in health " — vows which he 
 so very soon broke. Oh ! if the readers of his works could 
 have witnessed the scenes in some of which I took sorrow- 
 ing part, and could hear of the dastardly treatment of my 
 darling friend by this man and his agents, they would, I 
 think, eschew their admiration of the writer ! 
 
 I was at one of dear Mr. Rogers' breakfasts with my 
 father, and some ladies and gentlemen of liigh rank, on one 
 
400 APPENDIX. 
 
 special occasion when Bulwer was spoken of, and I confess 
 to the thrill of satisfied justice I experienced (knowing the 
 man's character so well) when the accomplished and vene- 
 rable poet picked the said Bulwer to pieces, metaphorically 
 speaking, like a rotten chestnut ! No description of mine 
 can give any idea of the contempt of Mr. Rogers' manner, 
 and I sat facing him and longing to thank him before the 
 whole company for the outspoken opinion he had given 
 of the merit of such a man as I knew Sir Edward Bulwer 
 to be. 
 
 "Was Lady Lytton given to habits of intem- 
 perance ? " * 
 
 Certainly not, if you mean taking more stimulants than 
 was good for her. I was with her almost daily for nearly 
 three years, and never during that time did she take more 
 wine than was ordered for her by the medical man who 
 attended us for years, and who attended her. She drank 
 wine and water only, and the wine was mostly port wine. 
 She was extremely fastidious in the matter of water, and 
 particular that it should be " pure spring water." In spite 
 of all the trouble of mind she continually endured, she was 
 most careful in her housekeeping, and the surroundings in 
 which she lived (almost alone at times) were those of a 
 perfect gentlewoman. I hired several of her servants, and 
 she treated them with the greatest kindness and considera- 
 tion, but it was not easy to please her, owing to her great 
 nicety and keen knowledge of how every trifling service 
 should be performed not for herself only, but for every one. 
 Later on in my own life I had to bless her for the 
 
 * I particulady requested Mrs. Whelan to allude to this, for I 
 was told a few years ago that Lady Lytton was in a state of 
 intoxication when she appeared on the hustings at Hertford in 1858. 
 This lie I refuted at the time, and since Lady Lytton' s death, I have 
 written to Dr. Woodhouse (who was mayor of Hertford at the time, 
 and who is still living) begging him to state the true facts of the 
 case. I have his letter testifying to the falseness of the accusation, 
 and entirely exonerating Lady Lytton from this most cruel slander 
 — L. D. 
 
APPENDIX. 401 
 
 unflinching severity of her rules, as my own mother died 
 while I was quite a girl, and dear Lady Lytton supplied 
 her place to me at an age when young women mostly 
 require one — on their entrance into society. Her knowledge 
 of human nature has been a pilot to me through many 
 a boisterous voyage, and I often think what her own dear 
 daughter must have lost, wantingsuch a mother as sheproved 
 herself to me. I took a greater pleasure and deeper interest 
 in my own household after my marriage than I should 
 have done had she not taught me many things that were 
 eminently useful to me and my dear husband, as I had 
 treble the amount of housekeeping, in all its manifold 
 branches, to undertake when I left London for a large 
 country house in place of my father's modest establish- 
 ment. Lady Lytton's extravagant generosity was her ex- 
 travagance for others, not table luxuries nor luxuries of 
 toilet or any luxury for self. It was other people's needs 
 that drove her wild to help them, and I have known her to 
 sacrifice her own jewellery and even her comforts to assist 
 people who were pressed for money or in any trouble. 
 Her heart was golden, and her generosity' lavish. She had 
 suffered too much to enjoy life, but we passed many happy 
 and alas ! many unhappy hours together, her wit and 
 inborn gaiety alternating with her tears and pathetic say- 
 ings, and keeping me her prisoner of love. She had been 
 a guest at the French court of Louis Philippe, and intimate 
 with all the French royal famil}-, and also much in the 
 company of the Grand Duchess of Saxe Coburg Gotha, the 
 Duchess of Kent's sister, and she would tell me in the most 
 graphic manner many of the sayings and doings of the 
 distinguished people, who fully appreciated her, as I knew 
 by their letters to her, several of which she retained, and 
 some of which she permitted me to reply to for her, a 
 privilege I found most valuable in after-years. 
 
 I said once to her, " Why do you not go down to 
 Knebworth and take your lawful place there ? You are only 
 separated, not divorced. I will go with you. We will post 
 down and see what will be done. / am not afraid of Sir 
 Edward Bulwer Lytton." 
 
 26 
 
402 APPENDIX. 
 
 Her answer came slowly and assuredly — " He would 
 employ some one to /'/// me, or he would shut me up in a 
 madhouse" 
 
 " Nonsense ! " I answered ; " such things are not done 
 in the nineteenth century." 
 
 Many years after that I had to write to Lady Palmerston 
 and others to beg them to deliver her out of a madhouse 
 into which she had been snared, and her life had been 
 attempted by poison in Wales, as Dr. Price, her medical 
 man, was ready to swear in any court of justice. I cannot 
 give personal evidence of this attempt, as I was far away, 
 nursing a sick child of my own, at the time, but I have 
 seen Dr. Price's letters, and know all the particulars of 
 the visit to my dear friend of a certain woman and what 
 took place. So her astounding reply to my suggestion was 
 thoroughly verified in both particulars. A diabolical plot 
 was frustrated once, while she lived in Paris, by her 
 maid, who betrayed the man (the chief mover in it) who was 
 caught opening her desk by the police, they having been 
 placed on the watch for him after the maid had mentioned 
 the plot to her mistress. The great avocat Berryer 
 was her counsel, as she brought an action on that 
 occasion against the plutters, and her appearance in court 
 was described to me by a countess who was well acquainted 
 with her " as enough to turn the heads of all the young and 
 old counsel present, she was so beautiful." 
 
 She would have won the trial but for the ridiculous fact 
 that an English woman married could not bring an action 
 in those days, let her cause be ever so just, the act ever 
 so unjust, which forced her into court. 
 
 Her own life was purity itself, but her words were bitter, 
 sarcastic, pungent, and powerful, on seeing and hearing, as 
 she was often compelled to do, women, and men too, whom 
 she well knew to be steeped in iniquity, walking in the 
 midst of the first society in England, feted, petted, in easy 
 happy circumstances, while she, whose only fault was that 
 she spoke the bare and unvarnished truth in plain straight- 
 out English, was despised and vilified, deserted, and in a 
 false position as to means. Her title only entailed on her 
 
APPENDIX. 403 
 
 extra payment for everything, and expensive lodging also. 
 I have often gone alone into shops when walking with her, 
 and purchased things to be sent home in my own name, to 
 save her the immediate addition of £ s. d. which " Milady " 
 involves. I have heard that on being congratulated on 
 Sir Edward Bulwer's " making a Lady of her," she said 
 "she wished she could return the compliment and make 
 a gentleman of him." I can well believe she said it, her 
 sense of humour would be roused by the vulgarity of the 
 congratulation, and she could not resist the repartee. Her 
 adjectives were decidedly a strong feature in her corre- 
 spondence and conversation, and she lived in days when 
 " manners " were certainly more part of one's education 
 they they are now, so I was often addressed with this 
 phrase when speaking of her (which was stereotyped with 
 some people) : " Oh, yes, it's all true, but it's so shocking for 
 a woman to speak against her husband ! " the truth being 
 entirely set aside, though acknowledged, for the convention- 
 ality of Pharisaical England ! 
 
 Well ! " nous avons change tout cela," as the French say, 
 and this is the era of calling a spade a spade. 
 
 On one occasion it is quite just to state that I declined 
 to post a letter for her to Dr. Marshall Hall, after the 
 heart-rending death of her daughter in a wretched lodging 
 of typhus fever, when the mother was denied access to her 
 by the father, and I took Lady Lytton away to my home. 
 She had written this letter, in the bitterness of her grief, to 
 Dr. Marshall Hall, who had been the agent of this enchant- 
 ing novelist, poet, and dramatic author. And she had/////)/ 
 expressed herself in the letter. She read it to me previously 
 to sealing it, and asked me to post it as I returned home 
 from the Tower of London, where she was then living with 
 my uncle, the vice-chaplain, and my aunt and cousin, their 
 daughter. I absolutely declined to do so. Not that the letter 
 was not every word of it substantially true, and no language 
 could be considered too strong for such unmitigated cruelty 
 as she was subjected to, but I would not let her, if I could 
 help it, furnish her bitter enemies with a cause of offence 
 against her, and in spite of her anger at me and the terrible 
 
404 APPENDIX. 
 
 pitifulness of the case, I steadily refused to post the letter. 
 She was most bitter in her language, most trying in her 
 manner, on my refusal, and I left the room for an hour. On 
 returning she quite broke my heart with her repentant 
 words, begging me to pardon her for her, as she called it, 
 " impatience towards me," and adding more and more to my 
 admiration of her character. It is needless to say I forgave 
 her, and loved her if possible more than ever. Any one who 
 has taken the trouble to read the Earl of Lytton's two 
 volumes of his father's life will find letters of the Earl's 
 mother which show how she humbled herself to his grand- 
 mother, whose persecution of her was well known, and 
 who had again and again nearly parted the lovers, as they 
 were. Would that she had succeeded ! To quote, or rather 
 to paraphrase, the remark of the husband, dearest Lady 
 Lytton would have "gone farther" (and not very far, either) 
 "and fared" well. Her exquisite beauty, her talents, and 
 noble nature, would have made the happiness of many a 
 man in the highest position. And her own happiness always 
 was that of others. I could fill volumes with anecdotes of her 
 delicate kindness and thoughtfulness for any and every one 
 she came in contact with, and the amazing ingratitude 
 with which she was repaid. The last part of her sorrowful 
 life was cheered by the entire devotion of friends, who can 
 bear equal testimony with myself as to her worth and 
 excellence ; and having suffered severe bodily pain from 
 rheumatism, etc., she passed away without a sigh, having 
 asked for iced water. Before it could touch her lips she 
 was gone from this cruel world, and to that "where the 
 wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 
 Her faith was firm in the merits of our Redeemer, and her 
 days of tribulation " overcome." 
 
 Her son declined to take the chair at a dramatic dinner 
 on account " of the death of his mother," but he also declined 
 to follow her remains to the still nameless grave in Shirley 
 Churchyard, Croydon, where she was interred. The church 
 is a beautiful structure, noted as " one of Mr. Ruskin's 
 churches ; " and his father's tomb is not far from Lady 
 Lytton's grave. In the church a communion table has 
 
APPENDIX. 405 
 
 been placed which bears her name and ours, the few 
 faithful ones who loved her to the end, and which is the 
 only tribute to her dear memory.* 
 
 Katherine Curteis Whelan. 
 
 * Since the above was written a monument to the memory of 
 Rosina Dowager Lady Lytton has been erected by her executrices, 
 facing the foot of her nameless grave. — L. D. 
 
APPENDIX III. 
 
 LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE, ANECDOTES, Etc. 
 
 The following extracts from letters written by the 
 Chevalier de Berard relate to Lady Lytton's literary work 
 in periodicals. The Chevalier was connected with Mr. 
 Stiff, editor of the London Journal. Lady Lytton contri- 
 buted for some years to this publication. 
 
 '^ January 2^th, 1854. 
 
 " Mr. Stiff asked me yesterday to inform Lady Lytton 
 'he shall feel very thankful if she would write me a short 
 tale for the jfournal of about three pages ; should it spin 
 out to a tenth column, no matter.' I said he must not 
 value your work at 2^s. per page. He said he would 
 not think of doing such a thing, but would be liberal, 
 and would give more than any one else, and would feel 
 honoured if you would condescend to become a regular 
 contributor to the Jonrnal. He also published the Weekly 
 Times, which has a sale of ninety thousand. Mr. Stiff 
 is a kind man. When I was ill he advanced me a few 
 pounds, or we must have gone to the workhouse. I do 
 hope, if you have leisure, you will compose a short tale for 
 him ; it may lead to something better ; and, let me add, 
 how happy it would make me if I could be the means of 
 serving you — you, who are so good, so generous, and so 
 unselfish! I have felt more for your undeserved mis- 
 fortunes — wrongs, I should say — than any other; and 
 although age has crept on me, it has not blunted my 
 feelings." 
 
 ''^Brighton, February 2nd, 1 854. 
 
 " I am here on a visit to Lady Hotham. Yours received 
 yesterday. All I can say at present is, Can such things 
 
ArrENDix. 407 
 
 be ? When I have made the requisite inquiries you shall 
 hear from me more at large. As you so peremptorily re- 
 quested me to give the thing every publicity possible, I 
 showed it to Lady Hotham." 
 
 '■'■February 2^h, 1854. 
 
 "Vous peignez si bien les personnages, que la ressem- 
 blance s'appergoit au premier coup-d'oeil. En verit6, 
 madame, vous rivalisez Alexandre Dumas dans vos portraits 
 graphiques. Votre stile est grandiose, et vous nous montrez 
 bien que vous savez apprecier I'etendue de vos forces et 
 de cette intelligence que les lords de la creation s'attri- 
 buent exclusivement, et auxquels vous joignez la douceur 
 et le raffinement de votre sexe, et en deployant les vastes 
 inepuisables facult^s de votre esprit." 
 
 "March ^th, 1854. 
 
 " Mr. Stiff tells me that he wants short tales of about 
 four pages of the Journal, amusing and interesting, so as to 
 suit the palate of all. He will pay liberally ; name your 
 own price. Nor does he object to your writing for any 
 other periodical at the same time ; I thought it proper to 
 ascertain this point at once, to prevent all future cavil on 
 this point, so that you can have one or two more strings to 
 your bow. The sale of the LondoJi Journal now exceeds 
 400,000 a week ! Voild la picrre pJiilosopJiale ! 
 
 " Sir Liar is very sJiaky, they say, and, unless excited, his 
 faculties are dormant and failing him ; and it is reported 
 he is troubled with the argentc paucity. Consolez-vous 
 done et riez. ' Rira bien qui rira le dernier ! ' Chacun a son 
 tour. Sir Henry n'a de quoi se consoler si il ne reussit pas ; 
 du moins, vous avez la bonte de le mettre 'a la porte' 
 
 " Bravo, madame ! le petit mot pour rire ne vous manque 
 jamais. Continuez, je vous prie, dans cette belle humeur qui 
 vous sied si bien." 
 
 '■'■April 2nd, 1854. 
 
 " Stiff says, ' Tell Lady Lytton I care not what I pay to 
 further the interest of the Journal, which now surpasses 
 by some thousands the 400,000 per week, and I look for- 
 ward to one million by Christmas.' 
 
 " Mr. Stiff is endeavouring to secure as much talent as 
 
4o8 ArrENDix. 
 
 he can, and I hope }'ou will eclipse them all. Next week 
 he will give ' Behind the Scenes' a good reviezv, such as it 
 deserves, in the Weekly Times. He has repeatedly thanked 
 me for having introduced him to you. 
 
 " The people at the Home Circle will insert your three 
 essays next week or the week after ; they say ' The Supper 
 at Sallust's ' is too good for their paper, and decline taking 
 it. You know one cannot 'make a silk purse,' etc. 
 
 Madame de Berard has read your book with much plea- 
 sure. She says that roses spring up under your pen, for your 
 thoughts have all the beauty and fragrance of those flowers, 
 and your wit prevents one being cloyed by too much sweet- 
 ness ; you have such endless variety, and come before the 
 public with a mind as fresh and buoyant as if you had not 
 expended such a multiplicity of thoughts upon paper; and 
 that you possess an inexhaustible mine of brilliant talents, 
 still in embryo. Burke himself could not write better, and 
 very often not half so well." 
 
 '■'■ Saturday, April 15///, 1854. 
 
 " One of your articles has appeared in the Home Circle, 
 and will be continued next Monday and the following, 
 which will complete the whole ; they could not spare room 
 to insert the three in one number." 
 
 The Chevalier tries to find out Mrs. Braine, the governess 
 to the two children. 
 
 "iJ/a/ 15//^, 1854. 
 
 " The person's name is Mrs. Braine, at Auckland Cottage, 
 North End, Fulham Road. She was tall, and appears to 
 me Irish. I introduced my business by inquiring what her 
 views had been in writing to you ; she replied, ' I know 
 Lady Lytton by name, and have felt much interest for her 
 and her misfortunes, on account of the strong affection I 
 bore to her poor dear child, and which I cultivated as long 
 as she lived, as these her letters will prove, for she wrote to 
 me as often as she could contrive to do so unknown to her 
 father. In the year 1839 I became the governess of the 
 children at Cheltenham, and continued so under Miss 
 Greene, when I married and left.' She says she and the 
 children were almost starved. She wants }'ou to use your 
 
APPENDIX. 409 
 
 influence in placing her eldest son in a public school. I 
 closely questioned her if she knew anything of Sir Liar ; 
 she had not seen him for years, but once lodged in a house 
 where Mrs. Beaumont had lodged, with two boys and a girl ; 
 the boys, she says, were the very picture of Sir Edward. 
 The landlady told her Lady Lytton was ver}- ill, and that 
 as soon as she died Mrs. Beaumont was to take her place. 
 Mrs. Braine says Mrs. Beaumont is at present residing 
 with the Hon. Mrs. Yelverton, Whitland Abbey, in Pem- 
 brokeshire. Mrs. Braine's maiden name was Phillips. She 
 will send me a letter for you to-morrow, with your dear 
 girl's hair and her letters. 
 
 " In the course of conversation I endeavoured to find 
 
 out if she knew anything of P or Getting, but she does 
 
 not. I should think the woman is straightforward ; if not, 
 she is the best actor I ever met with, for she appears very 
 sincere in what she says." 
 
 This letter confirms Mrs. Braine's account of the children. 
 
 "J/ay 26M, 1854. 
 
 " I have received yours of yesterday, with its enclosure. 
 Unless you know the writer iccll, I would have you be on 
 your guard. It appears to me as if intended as an attack 
 upon your purse. One of the plans of the gang will be to 
 cripple your means, among their other villainies, and every 
 penny they may extract from your very slender means is 
 so much gained by them. Therefore pray be on your guard ; 
 you may defend yourself from your enemies, but beware of 
 yonx friends ! As to what your correspondent says about 
 a madhouse, it was certainly the case some twenty years 
 back, but now these houses are visited by the Commis- 
 sioners, and every patient brought before the Board and 
 examined separately and alone ; therefore the thing is im- 
 possible. My authority is Mr. Briant ; for when, some 
 time back, I spoke to him about it, he said that it ought 
 not to make you uneasy, for, in his opinion, you most 
 assuredly had not the faintest taint of madness. This 
 took place at Brighton, and Dr. Turner was present, who 
 concurred in the opinion. ' If Lady Lytton is mad,' said 
 
410 APPENDIX, 
 
 lie, ' it is one of the most rational madnesses I ever saw or 
 heard of.' Soyez done tranquille, ma belle dame. Sir Liar 
 is in a state, if not mad, of monomania. I have not been 
 able to hear anything of him." 
 
 Walter Savage Landor, 1839. 
 
 Lady Lytton met Landor at Bath about 1839, and 
 writes of him : — 
 
 " He used to say, in his peculiar way of pronouncing the 
 word ' wonderful,' which he always called ' woonderful,' ' It 
 is the most woonderfully beautiful city in the world ; Bath 
 and Florence are the only two places where I can live.' 
 No one ever appreciated so fully either his jests or his bons 
 mots as he did himself; at all events, it would have been 
 impossible for them to do so as loudly ; but then all 
 Landor did \\d.?> fortissinio, incisive, and trenchant. 
 
 " When he gave — and, though by no means rich, he gave 
 often — it was always fully, freely, and thoroughly ; for, 
 despite his old gabardine of a brown surtout, shining at the 
 seams, etc., yet was the lining — that is, the man — thoroughly 
 grand seignenr of the days when that now nearly extinct 
 race existed as the rule, and not as the exception. Yet no 
 butterfly, emerged from its chrysalis state into its purple, 
 gold, and winged glories, could be more different than the 
 matutinal Walter Savage Landor in the aforesaid old 
 brown surtout and the thoroughbred, noble-headed, dis- 
 tinguished-looking man who bore that name when dressed 
 for dinner. If his laughter was muscular and stentorian, 
 the thews and sinews of his vituperation or his indignation, 
 even with regard to his historical or archaeological feuds, 
 were equally athletic. It happened there was a young 
 artist at Bath whom Landor patronised — no, not patronised, 
 for that was not his way, but whom he tried to serve. 
 He had sat to him for his portrait, en buste, which he gave 
 me — a perfect replica of the magnificent head, and admir- 
 able as to tone and pose, with just the faintest soupcon of 
 the immortal old brown coat. Mr. Landor insisted that I 
 should sit for my picture to his protege' ; I consented, upon 
 the express proviso that he should always be there, so that 
 
APPENDIX. 411 
 
 I might not die of ennui during the penance. Some time 
 before he had promised to send me his ' Pericles and 
 Aspasia/ but so long was he in doing so, that I thought 
 he had forgotten all about it ; but not so. One morning 
 a kind of champagne case arrived, containing not only 
 ' Pericles and Aspasia,' but 'Imaginary Conversations' and 
 all his other works, splendidly bound in russia, quarto edi- 
 tions, lined with blue moire, as if they had been for a royal 
 presentation. During one of the sittings the artist hap- 
 pened to speak enthusiastically about some lines of Ben 
 Jonson, whereupon Mr. Landor, who was seated at the 
 time, bounded from his chair, and began pacing the room 
 and shaking his tightly clenched hands as he thundered 
 out, Ben Jonson ! Not another word about him ! It makes 
 my blood boil ! I haven't patience to hear the fellow's 
 name. A pigmy! an upstart! a presumptuous varlet who 
 dared to be thought more of than Shakespeare was in his 
 day ! ' ' But surely,' ventured the artist, ' that was not 
 poor Ben Jonson's fault, but the fault of the undiscrimi- 
 nating generation in which they both lived.' 'Not at all !' 
 roared Landor, his eyeballs becoming bloodshot and his 
 nostrils dilating, ' not at all ! The fellow should have walled 
 himself up in his own brick and mortar before he had con- 
 nived at and allowed such sacrilege ! ' * But,' said I — for 
 the painter could not speak for laughter — 'even if Ben 
 Jonson had been able to achieve such a tour de force, I 
 am very certain, Mr. Landor, that, ''taking- every man in 
 his Jnmionr,'' Shakespeare would have been the very first 
 to pull down his friend's handiwork and restore him to the 
 world.' ' No such thing ' ' rejoined Mr. Landor, turning 
 fiercely upon me ; * Shakespeare never wasted his time ; 
 and, with his w^^nderful imagination, he'd have known he 
 could have created fifty better.'" 
 
 Anecdotes of Disraeli and Mrs. Wyndham Lewis. 
 Mrs. Bulwer was sitting by the side of Rogers in the 
 drawing-room after a dinner-party, when Disraeli, who had 
 been lounging in a cane-seated chair, crossed the room, 
 with his coat-tails, as usual, over each arm, leaving his 
 
412 APPENDIX. 
 
 dark green velvet adorables, with the marks of the chair 
 on them, fully visible. Rogers asked, " Who is that ? " 
 "Oh! young Disraeli, the ]qw," answered Mrs. Bulwer. 
 " Rather the wandering Jew, with the brand of Cafie on 
 him," said Rogers. Disraeli heard the laugh these words 
 evoked, and turning round, glanced scornfully at them. 
 When Lady Lytton repeated this to me, I remarked, 
 "Now I am certain it must have been yo2i, and not Rogers, 
 who uttered this don mot." " No, indeed. I assure you it 
 was Rogers, and not I, who said it." 
 
 When Mrs. Bulwer asked Disraeli to take Mrs. Wyndham 
 Lewis down to dinner, " Oh ! anything rather than that 
 insufferable woman," he would answer ; " but Allah is 
 great." And putting his thumbs into the arm-holes of 
 his waistcoat, he would walk up to her and then offer 
 his arm. 
 
 As a pendant to the above. It was during a dinner at 
 the Bulwers' that Swift had been a topic of conversa- 
 tion, and when the ladies retired, " Who is this Dr. Swift, 
 Rosina.''" said Mrs. W. Lewis, "that they have been 
 talking about .'' Can I ask him to my parties ?" " Hardly 
 so." " Why not .-' " " Because he did a thing some years 
 since which effectually prevented his ever appearing 
 again in society." "What was that .^ " " Why, he only 
 died about a hundred years ago." 
 
 Lady Lytton told me she honoured Disraeli for one 
 thing : he always behaved well to his wife. 
 
 Extract from Lady Lytton's Novel of "Very 
 Successful," 1856. 
 
 " At a DiiDier-party" Sketch of Disraeli. 
 
 "Will you tell mc," said Mr. Phippen, "who are those 
 two men opposite, the one with black ringlets and the 
 other with a head of light hair and moustachios like a 
 distaff gone mad t " " Oh ! those," laughed Mr. Bouverie, 
 "are Mr. Jericho Jabber and Sir Janus Allpuff, my Lord 
 
APPENDIX. 413 
 
 Oaks' two leading acrobats." " Good heavens ! How can 
 Lord Oaks think of balancing his political ladder on the 
 chins of two such mountebanks ? 'Pon my life ! Their hair 
 alone is worth paying a shilling to see, and reminds me of 
 the intrigues that used to be carried on when Bonaparte was 
 First Consul by means of locks of hair. But you'll be tired 
 of my stories." " Indeed, no. Pray let me hear what you 
 were going to say." " Well, you must know that during the 
 Consulate great excitement all of a sudden reigned in Paris 
 at the First Consul having frequently appeared in powder ; 
 for, 'gad ! sir, it turned out that his barber was no other than 
 the famous Ex-Chouan in disguise, who had undertaken to 
 give signals to the partisans of Louis Dix-Jmite by his 
 manner of powdering and frizzing the Chief Consul. It 
 was observed that two expresses were sent off to Warsaw 
 the day he first appeared in powder, and this circumstance 
 having been communicated to Fouche, that sleepless dragon 
 Commissary of Police, he arrested the Barbier Conite, who 
 had been long a marked siispecte in Fouche's private book, 
 and when arrested upon him were found a very curious 
 cipher in curls, chignons, straight, long, and short hair, 
 together with several hieroglyphics in curling-irons. It 
 seems that powder and curls, or ca?ions, as they were called, 
 were very significant, intimating war, and plain and straight 
 hair denoted peace ; and all this handiwork of the Tuileries 
 Figaro it was that had made the Tiers Consolides fall to 
 54, as the right side of the Consul's head described 
 the French republic, while the rest was geographically 
 sectioned out for the rest of Europe, so that a prominent 
 curl in any particular division, powdered more or less, 
 denoted hostility. It was actually sworn on the proch 
 verbal that the Swiss cantons, which stood very high and 
 close to the centre of the Chief Consul's toupee, were 
 powdered thick, that Spain was particularly frosted, and 
 upon the right side of the head there was combed a' pro- 
 spectus of a new constitution. The Consul's head, on being 
 compared with this cipher, left no doubt of the conspiracy, 
 besides which several false curls, in the shape of ships, 
 artillery, and bastions, had been found on the culprit, who 
 
414 API'KNDIX. 
 
 was handed over to the prefects of the palace, to be tried 
 by a jury, half crops and hsiU gens de poiidre. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 Such were the jeux d' esprit in tJiose days, and I was just 
 thinking, as our friend the y^zf-d'esprit opposite has oiled 
 the ringlets on one side of his head more than the other, 
 whether the oleaginous side might not be intended as a 
 cipher as well." There was a hush for a moment as some 
 exquisite music floated from one of the hidden bands. 
 And then Mr. Jericho Jabber displayed some wonderful 
 tours de force he had got up on his return from the Pyra- 
 mids upon ancient Greek, Assyrian, and Ethiopian music, 
 which naturally whirled him off into a twin ecstacy upon 
 dancing, which he designated as the photograph of motion, 
 explaining that there was no person or thing that might 
 not be imitated by gesture, and then almost pantomimic- 
 ally showing, by means of a gold spoon and a terrible 
 hurling of his ringlets to the back of his chair, how the 
 Lacoedemonians and Thebans used to attack their enemies 
 dancing ; and on bounded Mr, Jericho Jabber, till he got 
 back again to Thebes, and for change of air from thence 
 to Athens ; and winding up with one of those fine presto ! 
 begone ! perorations and hocus-pocus arguments with which 
 he was wont to beguile listening senates upon much more 
 vital matters, he burst forth with, " Why, as a proof that 
 there must be, that there is, something Divine in the origin 
 of dancing, look at the religious rites into which it has been 
 introduced, not only among the sacrifices of the mysteries 
 of Delii and round the fountain of Hippocrene, from whence 
 Pindar calls Apollo DANCER, but " (and here, as a culmi- 
 nating and irrefragable argument, he drew the handkerchief 
 he was flourishing in his right hand hastily across his left), 
 " more than all this, as an appeal to our'' (?) " Christianity, 
 did not David dance before the ark .-' " And here Mr. 
 Jericho Jabber leant back exhausted (as well he might be), 
 whereupon Mr. Abner Haystack, taking advantage of the 
 halcyon silence that reigned for a moment, when a good 
 thing would be sure to tell, bent forward and said, " After 
 all, Jabber, you must allow that there's nothing like the 
 good old English country dance, as it is the only one 
 
APPENDIX. 415 
 
 where one is constantly changing sides, and one has to 
 give hands across and set to the opposite party ; and, indeed, 
 the original directions, printed on ' Sir Roger de Coverley ' 
 and another contemporary country dance called ' CAVEN- 
 DISH Court; or, Look Sharp!' after the changing sides, 
 are, ' First couple cast up, and cast ojf, and hands round.' " 
 The but ill-suppressed laugh being now decidedly against 
 Mr. Jericho Jabber, he had nothing for it but to resort to 
 his favourite attitude of sticking his thumbs in the arm- 
 holes of his waistcoat and uttering his usual Caucasian 
 truism of " God is great," after which he suddenly took to 
 admiring the mouldings of the ceiling. 
 
 POEMS BY LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Not the green graves where loved ones sleep, 
 And friends strew grief with flowers, 
 
 Where circling years their vigils keep, 
 'Mid snows and summer hours, 
 
 Nor yet those unrecorded tombs 
 Palled within the treacherous deep, 
 
 Are among the saddest dooms 
 The Fates on mortals heap. 
 
 For with healing on its wings, 
 
 Through which gleam angels' eyes. 
 
 Time o'er all these a halo flings ; 
 That softens as he flies. 
 
 No, — 'tis those dark undaisied graves, 
 
 Dug deep within the heart, 
 Where memory like a maniac raves 
 
 O'er wrongs that can't depart : 
 
 Whole trust by treachery repaid ; 
 
 Truth springed, and crush'd with lies ; 
 Love only sought to be betray'd. 
 
 As cobweb human ties ; 
 
 All that was holiest, brightest, best. 
 
 From nature's dower within, 
 Made a sacrilegious guest 
 
 To gild a bad man's sin. 
 
4l6 APPENDIX. 
 
 On these lone graves, no blossom opes ; 
 
 No human tears are shed ; 
 T/iefre only strew'd with wither'd hopes 
 
 Dead — burying their dead ! 
 
 Poor ghosts ! it was no honest foe, 
 
 In fair and open fight, 
 Who dealt ye all the mortal blow 
 
 That swiftly quench'd your light. 
 
 'Twas on a moral Marathon, 
 Where a filial Theseus cast 
 
 The shadow of a loyal son. 
 That murdered as it past ! 
 
 Well ! all his mammon spoils he's gain'd, 
 
 And all the tinsel shams, 
 Of low ambition, conscience stain'd 
 
 As mire a river dams. 
 
 God's priceless Koh-i-noor his soul 
 All dimmed with worldly guiles, 
 
 Barter'd for glass of Satan's dole 
 From his Philippine Isles. 
 
 While by his worshipped Babylon 
 
 I've sat down and wept, 
 Pitying angels looked upon 
 
 The grief that never slept. 
 
 And they brought, as they always do 
 To such poor ruined shrines, 
 
 Blest gifts, of sacred rue 
 
 Which God with His chastening twines. 
 
 For those bitter herbs of sorrow, 
 
 By resignation crush'd, 
 Incense rise on mercy's morrow, 
 
 To where all storms are hush'd. 
 
 Then, since God to me has sent 
 That peace the world can't give, 
 
 Share it with me ; and be content, 
 Though late, to learn to live. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Now that young souls are given you, 
 
 To ruin or to save, 
 As you shall make them false or true, 
 
 God's servant or sin's slave. 
 
 Vour mildew'd childhood knew no care, 
 
 Poor hapless son of clay ! 
 Deceit's foul mask aye forced to wear ; 
 
 It scared all truth away. 
 
 Tear off the vile, accursed thing ! 
 
 That's tainted your whole life ; 
 £e what you'd seem, and bring 
 
 To God the struggle of each strife. 
 
 Forgiveness is the only boon 
 
 You've left me to bestow ; 
 Take it, and may you now full soon 
 
 Its utmost value know. 
 
 Yet think not there's no happy state 
 
 For broken hearts in store ; 
 God's given us all that glorious /efe 
 
 The blessed y^i/^r des Morts.*^ 
 
 417 
 
 WE WERE THREE. 
 
 We were three ! three, so fond and true ; 
 
 No cloud between us ever came ; 
 For, let what changes would ensue, 
 
 Our firm of three was still the same. 
 
 We made and peopled our own world ; 
 
 No human vices entered there ; 
 No treachery at trust was hurled ; 
 
 All was what it seemed, full and fair. 
 
 Lady Lytton's birthday was the 2nd November, 1802, the yaur Jes Marts. 
 
 27 
 
41 8 APPENDIX. 
 
 We were three ! with one common heart 
 My dogs and I all things did share ; 
 
 Being best, they'd the better part 
 Of all that they or I deemed rare. 
 
 'Mid the family portraits hung, 
 By time and change undimmed, 
 
 Their great Aunt Fairy, lovely, young. 
 By Edwin Landseer limned. 
 
 Than his true art, there's none grander, 
 For in every touch, all well is ; 
 
 Each dog feels, like Alexander, 
 That he's got his own Apelles. 
 
 But how describe those matchless two. 
 My Daisy and his darling wife ? 
 
 Their beauty, though it daily grew. 
 Paled by the beauty of their life. 
 
 My Tiny, with her wondrous eyes ! 
 
 So soft ! like stars on velvet spread ; 
 Each look so gentle, and so wise ! 
 
 They seem like garnered tears unshed. 
 
 Daisy, dog of the velvet ears. 
 And pretty truant, trying ways ! 
 
 The mischief children pay in fears 
 Was always sure to gain him praise. 
 
 True to the instincts of his sex, 
 Which i7mst the despot play, 
 
 The cats he'd chase, the sheep he'd vex, 
 And bark the birds and bees away. 
 
 But this was but his public life, 
 
 That bubble sham of dogs and men ; 
 
 All social good in him was rife, 
 
 And tact to know how, where, and when 
 
 The finest canine gentleman 
 
 That ever yet in dog-skin stepped, 
 
 Whether he swift through meadows ran, 
 Or gracefully on hearthrug slept, 
 
APPENDIX. 419 
 
 Or, with true pet dog chivalry, 
 
 Gave up to Tiny the best place ; 
 Not even chicken-bones would he 
 
 Take without ref rence to her face. 
 
 While she, as on my lap she sat, 
 
 With ears like meteors streaming, 
 *' Si grande dame ! jusq'au bout des pattes," 
 
 Just half waking and half dreaming, 
 
 Like Waller's Saccharissa, would 
 
 *' Suffer herself to be admired," 
 Which Daisy dog quite understood 
 
 Meant, '* Keep your distance 3 for I'm tired." 
 
 Then the hay, the sweet new hay, 
 
 We've raked and tossed together ! 
 E'en on the very dullest day, 
 
 Our fun made sunny weather. 
 
 For we would make the welkin ring 
 
 With the Blenheim nation air; 
 It's not, of course, " God save the King," 
 
 But just " Marlbrook s'en va-t-en guerre." 
 
 E'en I, who shudder at the storm 
 
 Of slang in this too vulgar age. 
 Must own my darlings were " good form " ! 
 
 That's perfect as to beauty's gauge. 
 
 True, " happiness was born a twin," 
 But a twin whose days were numbered, 
 
 As its first cradle death crept in. 
 And stole its life while it slumbered. 
 
 For fate's dark funeral pyre he 
 
 Always builds up with heart treasure. 
 And bequeaths ten " diei irje" 
 
 For each one wez'e known of pleasure. 
 
 So on a cruel bright May morn* 
 
 A silence and a shadow fell 
 Upon our hearts, and left a thorn 
 
 In place of him we loved so well. 
 
 *■ Daisy o6i( Wednesday, May i8th, 1870, 5 p.m 
 
420 APPENDIX. 
 
 At first we could not think it true 
 That we were now no longer three ! 
 
 We watched the door, — as if // knew ! 
 But time has taught us, woe is me ! 
 
 Where Daisy played, now daisies grow, 
 
 But closed, as if in twilight hours ; 
 There's something sacred in the woe 
 
 Of these, his little kinsfolk flowers. 
 
 There seems less verdure on the trees. 
 
 Less splendour in the sun, 
 Since we were doomed to tell the bees* 
 
 Our Daisy's course was run. 
 
 All nature then was out of tune. 
 
 And jarred upon our hearts ; 
 We thought it midnight when 'twas noon ; 
 
 And all the hours seemed poisoned darts, 
 
 Still piercing every vacant spot, 
 
 Thus to cruelly remind us 
 Of him who was, and now is not ; 
 
 For grief, like sin, is sure to find us. 
 
 We try to learn this lore of worth 
 
 As our fancies upward rise ; 
 That daisies are the stars of earth, 
 
 And stars the daisies of the skies. 
 
 An only dog's a fearful thing. 
 
 Which sets our heart upon a cast. 
 Warning us that fate doth fling 
 
 Us none but joys that cannot last. 
 
 Ah ! not e'en love's glamour shows 'era 
 
 In all their value till they are 
 E'en iter ienebrkosum, 
 
 Lost stars, " so near and yet so far." 
 
 * In Devonshire it is the custom, whenever a death occurs in a house, for one 
 of the members to go instantly and tell the bees of it, the superstition being 
 that the bees would be offended if they had not a faire fart, and would re- 
 venge the neglect by bringing fresh losses and misfortunes upon the bereaved 
 family. 
 
APPENDIX. 421 
 
 As it's twined, so doth the tree grow ; 
 
 And heliotropes turn to the sun ; 
 Tiny's now my alter ego ; 
 
 In fact, we twain are only one. 
 
 Her human sense and deep, deep love 
 Share every thought, soothe every grief; 
 
 And daily bring, like Noah's dove, 
 To my lone life its one green leaf. 
 
 We're all in all to each other, 
 
 Joy, hope, fear, trust, kith, and kin, 
 Without tyrant spouse or brother 
 
 To make a breach and let strife in. 
 
 Save us from biped friends (?) ; they're all 
 
 " Cousin Amy's shallow-hearted ; " 
 They give but words of honeyed gall, 
 
 And probe the wounds that most have smarted. 
 
 Their bills on time are all still due ; 
 
 They'd not stir to see one righted, — 
 For self's ever friendship's mildew, 
 
 And to worldliness is plighted. 
 
 Then, Tiny mine, since we are bound 
 
 Together by one fast heart link. 
 Oh ! may we both by Death be found 
 
 Upon the great dark river's brink, 
 
 One prey for him, as we have been 
 
 For all else this many a year ; 
 And on our grave be ever green 
 
 Those daisy gems we held so dear. 
 
 RosiNA Lytton. 
 
 Monday, August I2th, 1 872. 
 
LIST OF NOVELS BY THE LATE DOWAGER 
 LADY LYTTON. 
 
 1839. 
 
 " Cheveley ; or, The Man of 
 
 
 
 Honour" .... 
 
 Published by Bull. 
 
 1840. 
 
 " Budget of the Bubble Family " . 
 
 Bull. 
 
 1842. 
 
 " Bianca Capello " 
 
 Bull. 
 
 1843. 
 
 " Memoirs of a Muscovite " . 
 
 ,, Newby. 
 
 1849. 
 
 " The Peer's Daughters " 
 
 ,, Newby. 
 
 1850. 
 
 " Miriam Sedley " 
 
 Shoberl. 
 
 I85I. 
 
 " Moliere's Life and Times ; or, 
 
 
 
 The School for Husbands " 
 
 Skeet. 
 
 1854. 
 
 " Behind the Scenes " . 
 
 ,, Skeet. 
 
 1856. 
 
 " Very Successful " 
 
 „ Whit taker 
 
 1858. 
 
 "The World and his Wife ' ' 
 
 , , Skeet. 
 
 I87I. 
 
 "WTiere there's a Will there's a 
 
 
 
 Way" 
 
 Published anonymously 
 
 I87I. 
 
 i7i August by Bacon. 
 Clumber Chase" and " Mauleverer's Divorce" were also 
 published aiioiiymously, I believe in the name of the 
 Hon. George Scott. 
 
 " The Household Fairy." By Virtue and Sons. A most charming 
 
 Manual for Young Housekeepers. 
 Essays : " Shells from the Sands of Time." Bickers. 1876. 
 
APPENDIX IV. 
 
 LADY LYTTON'S WILLS.— HER EPITAPH. 
 
 Will of Rosina Anne Doyle Wheeler. 
 
 ' ' Dated 3 rd January, 1827. 
 "This is the last will and testament of me, Rosina 
 Anne Doyle Wheeler, now residing in Somerset Street, 
 in the parish of Saint Marylebone, in the county of 
 Middlesex, spinster. I do hereby charge and make liable 
 all my real and personal estate and effects with and to 
 the payment of my just debts, funeral and testamentary 
 expenses. I do will and direct that my remains be 
 interred in a plain elm coffin, without any furniture 
 thereto or put or placed thereon, or about the same, and 
 that the letters and papers contained in a small mahogany 
 box, on which are my initials in ivory, be placed in my 
 coffin and interred with me without being opened by my 
 executors or any other persons whomsoever. And I 
 do by this my will strictly enjoin my executors 
 to comply with this my will and request. I further 
 will and direct my funeral to be conducted in a plain 
 manner, and without ostentation or parade of any 
 kind whatsoever. I do will and bequeath all and every 
 real estate and estates, as also my copyhold and customary 
 estate or estates, of whatsoever nature, kind, or quality, that 
 I have the power of giving, bequeathing, or disposing, 
 limiting or appointing, unto my executors hereinafter 
 named, their heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns. 
 And I do direct and will and appoint all persons who 
 have to convey and assign such estate and estates, as I 
 shall by will direct or appoint to convey and assign the 
 same estate' and estates, to my said executors. And I do 
 
424 APPENDIX. 
 
 will and bequeath, direct and appoint, that my said 
 executors, their heirs, executors, or administrators, and 
 assigns, shall stand possessed of all and every such estate 
 and estates, and the rents, issues, and proceeds thereof. 
 Upon the trusts hereinafter mentioned, I do give and 
 bequeath all my personal estate and effects, be the same 
 of whatsoever nature, kind, or quality, unto my executors 
 upon trust to convert the same into money, and when so 
 converted into money to stand possessed thereof upon 
 trust to invest the same in the Government funds or on 
 real security, and to stand possessed thereof and of the 
 interest, dividends, and proceeds thereof upon the trusts 
 hereinafter mentioned. And I do hereby will and declare 
 that my said trustees shall stand possessed of the rents, 
 issues, and proceeds of my said real estate and estates, and 
 the interest, dividends, and proceeds of my personal estate, 
 upon trust to pay the same from time to time, as they 
 shall become due and payable, or otherwise permit and 
 suffer my mother to receive and take the same for and 
 during her natural life as and for her own proper 
 moneys and effects. And subject thereto I will and direct 
 my said executors to stand possessed of the whole of the 
 said trust estate and estates and the interest, dividends, 
 rents, issues, and proceeds thereof upon trust for 
 Mary Letitia Greene, of Swords, near Dublin, spinster, 
 her heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, absolutely. 
 Provided and in case of the decease of the said Mary 
 Letitia Greene in my lifetime or in the lifetime of my 
 mother, I then will and direct my said executors to staAd 
 possessed of the whole of the said trust estate and estates 
 and the interest, dividends, rents, issues, and proceeds 
 thereof upon trust for the niece of the said Mary Letitia 
 Greene, namely Mary Anne Greene, the eldest daughter 
 of Philip Greene, of Dundalk, Esquire, her heirs, executors, 
 administrators, and assigns, absolutely, and during her 
 minority to apply the interest and proceeds in and about 
 her education. I will and direct that the bequests made 
 to or in favour of my said mother and the said Mary 
 Letitia Greene and Mary Anne Greene by this my will are 
 
APPENDIX. 425 
 
 to and for their respective sole use and benefit, and shall 
 not be liable to the debts, controul, or engagements of any 
 husband or husbands they may at any time have or do 
 intermarr}^, and their respective receipt and receipts, deed 
 and deeds, alone shall be sufficient discharges and discharge 
 to my executors without their requiring the concurrence of 
 any husband or husbands of the said respective parties. I 
 do appoint my uncle, General Sir John Doyle, of Somerset 
 Street aforesaid, and Colonel Francis Doyle, of Montague 
 Square, in the parish of Saint Marylebone aforesaid, 
 executors of this my will, and in the event of both or 
 either of them dying or declining or becoming incapable of 
 acting in the trusts of this my will, it shall be lawful for my 
 said mother during her life to appoint others in the room 
 or stead of such of them as shall die, decline, or become 
 incapable of acting, and such executor and executors so 
 appointed shall have the same powers and authorities as 
 though they were appointed by this my will. I revoke all 
 wills by me heretofore made, and do declare this to be my 
 last will and testament. As witness my hand and seal this 
 third day of January, One thousand eight hundred and 
 twenty-seven. 
 
 " Signed, sealed, published, 
 and declared by the said Rosina 
 Anne Wheeler, as and for her 
 
 last will, in the presence of us, ^osi^A ANNE WHEELER, 
 who in her presence, at her 
 request, and in the presence of 
 each other, have subscribed our 
 names as witnesses. 
 
 JAS. GOREN, Solicitor, 
 
 Orchard Street, Portman Square. 
 GEORGE HOLDING. 
 FRANCES DAWSON. 
 
 " I further desire that my heart be taken out and embalmed 
 
 and sent as a letter I shall leave in my red morocco 
 
 jewel box shall direct. 
 
 "ROSINA A. WHEELER." 
 
 This will is at striking variance with Lord Lyttoik's 
 
426 APPENDIX. 
 
 assertion in the Life of his father (vol. ii., p. 155) that his 
 mother's fortune " consisted of a little property in Limerick, 
 encumbered by a jointure to her mother, which reduced 
 the income derived from it to about ^80 a year." It will 
 be observed that there is no mention of any jointure in this 
 will ; and had there been a jointure, it would have been im- 
 possible for Mr. Bulwer to sell all his wife's property soon 
 after their marriage, as he actually did, subsequently 
 remarking to her that " he had got every shilling of her 
 property, and she was completely in his power." 
 
 Extracts from the Will of the Dowager Lady 
 
 Lytton. 
 
 " Being of sound mind and body this Monday, the eighth 
 day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight 
 hundred and seventy-seven (1877), I hereby revoke all former 
 wills and bequests, more especially the will made in favour 
 of Mrs. Charlotte Cholmondeley Bering, nee Yea, daughter 
 of Sir J. Yea, Bart., of Pyrland Hall, Somersetshire, at this 
 time residing at No. 12, St. George's Road, Eccleston 
 Square, London, S.W., in the possession of her solicitor, 
 Mr. Giles Symonds, of Dorchester, and do hereby will and 
 bequeath absolutely to my good and more than valued 
 friends Miss Louisa and Miss Rose Devey, of Cairnbrock 
 Lodge, Tudor Road, Upper Norwood, in the county of 
 Surrey, all I may die possessed of, which, I deeply regret, 
 is only personalty — viz., oil paintings, portraits, engravings 
 framed and in books, furniture, rare wood carvings, books, 
 bronzes, ornamental china, bric-a-brac, glass, plate, house- 
 hold linen, wearing apparel, china dinner, tea, and dessert 
 services, also all my tin boxes containing letters and other 
 documents, and likewise my, up to this time unfinished, 
 MSS. of my autobiography. That as I appoint the afore- 
 said Louisa and Rose Devey my sole executrices, they will 
 upon no account, pretext, representation, pressure, or induce- 
 ment whatever, however plausible and apparently truthful or 
 reasonable, allow any of the aforesaid MS. autobiography 
 to fall into the hands of any member of either the Bulwer, 
 Lytton, Doyle, or Wheeler family, for as no one, including 
 
APPENDIX. 427 
 
 the late Lord Lytton's son, the present Viceroy of India, 
 has the slightest legal right or authority to interfere with 
 my testamentary dispositions as a freed woman or widow, 
 so nothing could excuse a violation of this sacred trust 
 reposed in all confidence in the aforesaid Louisa and Rose 
 Devey. 
 
 " I can but state in addition to this clause yet another, 
 which is that in the event of my living to finish my auto- 
 biography, or being able to find a literary executor whom 
 I could trust to do so, I shall be of course at full liberty to 
 repossess myself of the aforesaid MSS. and the tin boxes 
 containing the aforesaid letters and documents and transfer 
 them to the said literary executor. I must again express my 
 deep regret that I have no large and real property to leave 
 my two good Samaritan friends Louisa and Rose Devey, 
 for had I the carte blanche of the Rothschilds to bequeath 
 them, I should still feel that I had not and could not repay 
 even a tithe of all their truly noble generosity to me. 
 
 "All that I may possess at my death of any and every 
 kind of property I leave to the aforesaid Louisa and Rose 
 Devey, to be equally divided between them as they them- 
 selves may select and determine, with one exception, which 
 is my fine large jewelled Sevres ecuelle, cover and saucer, 
 with a portrait of Louis Quinze on one side and that of the 
 Duchesse de Chateauroux, one of the four Demoiselles 
 de Nesles, on the other, which ecuelle was given by 
 Louis Quinze to poor Marie Antoinette when she was 
 Dauphine, who after she became queen gave it to the 
 Comte dArtois, Charles Dix ; he gave it to his cousin 
 Philippe dAuvergne, Due de Bouillon, who in 181 3 gave it 
 to my mother. Now they must on no account sell or give 
 away this ecuelle, unless indeed they leave it to the British 
 Museum, as I do not wish a shred belonging to me to fall 
 into the hands of the present Lord Lytton. 
 
 " Upon my tombstone I wish the following verses from 
 Isaiah to be engraved : — 
 
 " ' The Lord will give thee rest from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, 
 and from the hard bondage wherein thou wast made to serve.' 
 
 " ROSINA BULWER LYTTON." 
 
"MY EPITAPH." 
 
 BY LADY LYTTON. 
 
 Long has been the way, and very dreary, 
 
 With heavy clouds of blackest wrongs o'ercast; 
 
 But the pilgrim, spent and weary, 
 Gladly sees the goal at last. 
 
 When Death o'erthrows the glass of time, 
 He scatters all its sands of sorrow; 
 
 And the freed soul doth upward cHmb 
 To welcome God's eternal morrow. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Anne, the Grand Duchess, 362] 
 Anspach, Margravine of, 22 
 Aylmer, Lord, 159 
 
 B , Miss Katherine, 131, 133 
 
 B , Miss Bella, 131 
 
 Ballywire, i, 10 
 
 Barrot, M. Odilon, 184 
 
 Beaumont, Mrs. See Deacon 
 
 Beavan, Mr., 229 
 
 Benger, Miss, 44, 45 
 
 Bentham, Jeremy, 36 
 
 Berard, Chevalier de, 406 
 
 Berryer, M., 183, 185 
 
 Berrymead Priory, 90 
 
 Blackburn, Lady, 370 
 
 Blaquiere, Mrs. Edward, 45, 4G 
 
 " Blighted Life, A," 373, 383 
 
 Bouillon, Due de, 19, 20, 25 
 
 Boys, Miss Augusta, 282, 288, 346 
 
 Bruce, Mrs., 251 
 
 Brunswick, Duke of, 19 
 
 " Bubble Family, Budget of the,'' 151 
 
 Bull, Mr., 148, 150, 205 
 
 Bulwer. See Lytton 
 
 „ Mr. Henry, 159, 160, 161, 166, 
 182 
 Byrne, her deposition, 78, 79 
 
 „ generosity of Lady Lytton 
 to, 79 
 
 Chalon, Mr. A. E., 25 
 
 Charles X., 37 
 
 " Cheveley," 147, 157 
 
 8,36= 
 
 Clarke, Mr., the publisher, 353 
 
 ,, Mrs., 258, 271, 292 
 Cole, Mr. Henry, 346, 352, 359, 367 
 Comyn, Mr., 360, 368 
 Conolly, Dr., the mad doctor, 303, 
 
 324 
 Cullum, Sir Thomas, 118, 218, 219 
 
 Daily Telegraph, articles from, 318, 
 
 325. 327 
 D'Augeville, Comtesse, 225 
 Deacon, Miss Laura, in, 1 20, 271, 
 
 273. 278 
 Dennet, Mrs., 233 
 Dickenson, Miss, 260 
 Disraeli, Benjamin, 411 
 
 ,, Mrs., 214 
 D'Orsay, Count, 102 
 Doyle, Rev. Charles, 35 
 
 ,, Sir F. Hastings, 118, 119, 
 
 120, 121, 149 
 ,, Sir John, 6, 13 
 ,, ,, character of, 14, 15 
 
 ,, ,, his weaknesses, 31, 
 
 32 
 ,, ,, leaves Guernsey, 
 
 32, 33 
 
 Easton, Mr., 364 
 Errington, Mr., 342 
 
 Galitzin, Princess, 276 
 Geneva, revolution in, 220 
 George, Mademoiselle 221, 224 
 
430 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Getting, Miss, 256 
 Gordon, Admiral, 365 
 Government House at Guernsey, 
 
 16, 17 
 Grattan, 34 
 
 Greene, Miss, 125, 127, 128, 130, 209 
 Guernsey, life at, 13 — 32 
 Guilleragues, Mademoiselle de, 22, 
 
 26-8 
 
 Haliburton, Judge, 345, 365 
 
 Hall, Dr. Marshall, 239 
 
 " Harold," 277 
 
 Hartcup, Mr., 228, 231 
 
 Havvke, Mr., 346, 349, 352, 358, 367 
 
 Hill, Mr., 297 
 
 ,, Mary, 300 
 Hodgson, Mr., 260 
 Hood, Dr., Commissioner of Lunacy, 
 
 303 
 Hyde, Mr. Charles, 164, 259, 278, 
 302, 305, 310, 324 
 
 Ironside, Mr., 267, 268, 276 
 
 James, Mr. Edwin, 167, 363 
 Jermyn, Mrs., 268, 274, 351 
 Jones, Captain, 340 
 
 K , M., 216 
 
 Kean, Charles, letters of, 154-6 
 Kenealy, Dr., 372, 375, 377 
 
 Lamb, Lady Caroline, 43 
 Landon, Miss — " L. E. L.," 40, 41, 
 47,48 
 
 ,, „ letters of, 139-45 
 
 Landor, Walter Savage, 147, 410 
 Lawrence, Foden, the Quaker, 342, 
 
 361 
 Lawson, 178, 183 
 Ledru, M. Charles, 175, 177 
 Legion, the German, 20, 21 
 Lewis, Mrs. Wyndham, 412 
 Loaden, Mr., 136, 137, 179, 192, 212, 
 
 279, 298, 301 
 Lyndhurst, Lord, 260 
 
 Lytton, Mrs. Bulwer : — 
 
 description of, 48, 49, 50, 56 
 soiree at her house, 60-2 
 opposition to her son's mar- 
 riage, 68, 69 
 her death, 207 
 Lytton, Edward Robert, Earl : — 
 birth of, "]"] 
 childhood, 94, 95, 102 
 his letter to Daily Telegraph, 
 
 321 
 with his mother abroad, 332 
 allowance to Lady Lytton, 386 
 Lytton, Emily Elizabeth : — 
 her birth, 74 
 
 life with her father, 209, 210 
 illness and death of, 238 
 Lytton, Edward, Lord : — 
 description of, 50, 5 1 
 his foppery, 57 
 
 proposes to Miss Wheeler, 67 
 his first love, 67, 68 
 income at marriage, 69 
 his brutality, 73, 74, 77-9, 83 
 his mistresses, 81, 83, in 
 leaves his wife, 123 
 created baronet, 138 
 his defence of Lawson and 
 
 Thackeray, 190 
 acquires Knebworth estates, 207 
 treatment of his daughter, 209 
 proposes a divorce, 230 
 at his daughter's deathbed, 245 
 at Hertford, 283 
 at Mr. Thompsons, 298 
 his statement for Commis- 
 sioners of Lunacy, 305 
 Lytton, Lady : — 
 her birth, i 
 childhood, i, 28 
 talent for mimicry, 29, 30, 37 
 at school, 35 
 
 meets Edward Bulwer, 53 
 interview with Mr. Bulwer, 64-6 
 accepts Mr. Bulwer, 67 
 her fortune at marriage, 70 
 description of, 71, 72 
 
INDEX. 
 
 431 
 
 Lytton, Lady {continued): — 
 her marriage, 72 
 the first outrage, 73, 74 
 her life at Woodcot, 75 
 
 ,, ,, Naples, 77 
 treatment of, by her husband at 
 
 Naples, 78 
 outrage upon, by her husband, 
 
 83,84 
 at Gloucester, 85 
 letters to her husband, 85-9, 
 
 112, 113 
 at Berrymead Priory, 90, 91 
 final quarrel with her husband, 
 
 no, III 
 her first deed of separation, 1 14 
 goes to Ireland, 125 
 deprived of her children, 130 
 goes to Bath, 131 
 ,, Paris, 159 
 libel upon, in Morning Post, 160 
 ,, ,, Court Journal, 161 
 
 action against Court Journal, 
 
 164 
 plot to seize her papers, 173 
 action against Lawson and 
 
 Thackeray, 184 
 at Florence, 205 
 at Geneva, 206 
 portrait of, by Chalon, 213 
 sells her watch, 215 
 leaves Geneva for England, 227 
 at her daughter's deathbed, 239 
 attempt to poison, 255 
 at Llangollen, 257 
 goes to Taunton, 258 
 her appeal to public charity, 266 
 action against, by Mrs. " Sel- 
 lers," 278 
 at the Hertford election, 2S2 
 examined by Mr. Hale Thom- 
 son, 289 
 entrapped into Mr. Hill's 
 
 asylum, 299 
 released from asylum, 308 
 goes abroad with her son, 309 
 at Luchon, 332 
 
 Lytton, Lady {continued): — 
 returns to Taunton, 334 
 her second deed of separation, 
 
 337 
 Spanish ballad by, 349 
 her protegee at Luchon, 357 
 at Brenton Villa, 371 
 her proposed letter to the 
 
 Queen, 372 
 failure of the scheme, 379 
 removes to Upper Norwood, 383 
 her pamphlet to refute " A 
 
 Blighted Life,"' 3S5 
 allowance from her son, 3S7 
 her death, 390 
 
 appeal to the British public, 393 
 her habits, 401 
 poems by, 415, 417 
 list of her novels, 422 
 her wills, 423, 426 
 her epitaph, 428 
 
 Millar, Thomas, the poet, 98-100 
 "Miriam Sedley," 252 
 
 Napier, Sir Charles, 277, 2S8 
 Naples, 77 
 
 Nelly, the Irish nurse, 10, 16, 21 
 " Nemesis,'' 80, etc., etc. 
 
 " Ocean pearl," the, 13 
 
 Pollock, Chief Baron, 277 
 
 ,, ,, epigram by, 369 
 
 Sir F., 165 
 Price, Dr., 258 
 
 Procter, Mr., Commissioner of 
 Lunacy, 303 
 
 Ritter, Baroness de, letter from, 240 
 Roberts, Dr., Lady Lytton's trustee, 
 306, 355, 359, 368, 387 
 „ Mrs., 41, 42 
 Rogers, Samuel, 399 
 Ross, 297 
 Rouse, Mr., 239 
 Ryve."?, Miss, 297, 304 
 
432 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Sand, Georges, letter from, 206 
 
 Sandby, Mrs., 224, 227 
 
 Saxe Coburg Gotha, Duchess of, 235 
 
 Sellers, Mrs. See Deacon 
 
 Shaftesbury, Lord, 334 
 
 Shoberl, Mr., 255 
 
 Somerset County Gazette, article 
 
 from, 311 
 Sparrow, 303 
 
 Spence, Miss, 43, 52, 53, 61, 63 
 Stillingfleet, Mrs., 16 
 Stockman, Mrs., 171 
 
 Thackeray, 178, 182, 183 
 Thomson, Mr. Hale, 288, 296 
 Tirard, Les Soeurs, 225 
 TroUope, Mrs., letters from, 195, 197, 
 201 
 ,, T. Adolphus, letters from, 
 198, 203 
 Tweedie, Dr., 246, 248 
 Tyler, Mrs. Hardinge, 342, 369 
 
 " Very Successful," 263 
 Vidocq, letter from, 194 
 
 Waltham, Mr., 25 
 
 Warenzow, Comtesse Marie de, 304 
 Watts, Alaric A., letters of, 15 1-3 
 Weymouth, Mr. and Mrs. Buhver at, 
 
 75 
 Wheeler, Miss Bessie, aunt to Lady 
 Lytton, 2, 40 
 
 ,, ,, description of, 4 
 
 Wheeler, Francis Massy : — 
 
 his family, 2 
 
 habits of, 9, 18 
 
 death of, 35 
 Wheeler, Mrs. : — 
 
 description of, 3 
 
 her character, 4 
 
 her marriage, 6, 7 
 
 her opinions, 71 
 Wheeler, Mr., 341 
 
 „ Henrietta, 8, 18, 35-7 
 Whelan, Mrs. Curteis, 233, 238 
 Winslow, Dr. Forbes, certificate of, 
 
 323 
 " Woman in White, The," 364 
 Woodcot House, 69, 72, 73, 76 
 Woodford, Dr., 290, 294 
 "World and his Wife, The," 287 
 
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