CHAPTER XXVII
ALTHORP
In speaking of Althorp, the home of my dear cousin, Lord Spencer, I place no dates at head of the chapter, as my constant visits there embraced the period of many years, and I am grateful to say that, even at this present writing, I am still welcome in that resort of former happy days. It is a place of so much interest as to claim some description from my pen. Althorp has been the home of the Spencer family since the reign of Henry VIII. The Library consisted of seven rooms, the very walls composed of books, 50,000 in number, one room containing the rarest editions—Block books, the first book ever printed in movable type, the largest collection of Caxton and his pupils, and the early Venetian printers, the famous Boccaccio, which produced at the sale of the Duke of Roxburgh, in 1812, the largest sum which had ever been paid for a single book up to that date. The competitors for this prize were the Marquess of Blandford, and George John, second Earl Spencer; it was knocked down to the former for £2,260, but being in difficulties some time afterwards, he was fain to sell it to the owner of the Althorp Library for the comparative small sum of £750. The mention of this volume reminds me of an incident which occurred to me at Ferrara while travelling with my dear mother, when we paid a visit to the Public Library in that town. The _custode_ showed me a rare edition of Ariosto’s “Orlando Furioso,” telling me at the same time that there was a duplicate in the possession of an English Count; and I can well recall the pride with which I informed him that that Count was my cousin. During the remainder of my visit, which lasted another ten minutes, I was treated with increased respect as the kinswoman of the Count in question.
But to return to Althorp. The staircase occupying the centre of the house, originally an open court, is supposed to have been enclosed by the first Countess of Sunderland (Sacharissa). The avenues were planted by Le Notre, who laid out Versailles for Louis XIV. The heronry was planted in the year of the Spanish Armada, as is shown by the date carved on the memorial stone. From the heronry Whyte Melville, in his charming novel of “Holmby House” (Holdenby), describes the hawking party galloping across the park, past the Hawking Tower, a small lodge with open galleries, in which the ladies sat to observe the sport. This lodge, now modernised in aspect and inhabited by the keeper, was built to commemorate the visit of Queen Anne of Denmark and her son on their road from Scotland, when Ben Jonson’s masque was played, the poet being an intimate friend of the Lord Spencer of the time.
[Sidenote: SARAH, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH]
The Portrait Gallery is very remarkable, running nearly the whole length of the house, and honourable mention is made of the contents by Evelyn in his Diary, while the later treasures contributed by Sir Joshua Reynolds and Gainsborough have been frequently eulogised by more modern chroniclers. John Spencer, the second son of the third Earl of Sunderland, inherited the estate of Althorp on the succession of his elder brother to the Dukedom of Marlborough. John, or Jack, as he was familiarly called, was the scapegrace of the family, in spite, or perhaps on account of which, he was the favourite of his maternal grandmother, Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. He was always in debt, or in some scrape or another, and many were the lovers’ quarrels which passed between them. On one occasion “Jack” was in such disgrace with Her Grace that she ordered him out of the room, and desired him never to darken her doors again. The first part of her command was obeyed, but the room being on the ground floor, and the window open at the time, scarcely five minutes had elapsed before the culprit had jumped in again and, kneeling humbly at his grandmother’s feet, easily obtained the pardon which he had so often forfeited. After the death of the third Earl Spencer, better known under his ministerial appellation of Viscount Althorp, the title and estates devolved on his brother, the Honourable Frederic Spencer, my second cousin by birth, my first cousin by marriage, his wife being Elizabeth Poyntz. From that time my family and I became frequent guests at this Northamptonshire home.
Lord Spencer, who was known to his contemporaries as “Fritz,” was in the Navy, and distinguished himself at the Battle of Navarino. He was a sailor every inch of him, with a downright and almost abrupt manner, contrasting with his kind and sympathetic nature, after a fashion by no means displeasing to those who knew him intimately. “There he goes,” was the description given of him one day, “with his rough bear’s coat buttoned lightly over his tender heart.” The speaker was my brother Cavendish, whose appointment as Governor of the Military Prison at Weedon (only six miles from Althorp) brought him into the neighbourhood, and, what was better, into constant contact with a man whom he admired and loved, and of whom he became the frequent and confidential companion. Thus it came about that we were intimately connected with the joys and sorrows of the Spencer household. How many hours of intellectual and social delight have I passed under Althorp’s hospitable roof! During the course of the visits here alluded to, which spread over several years, many were the festivities and pleasant gatherings we enjoyed at the time-honoured old house.
[Sidenote: TABLEAUX VIVANTS]
One evening we gave a theatrical performance consisting of the pretty little comedietta of “The Rough Diamond,” in which Frederic Ponsonby,[61] Cavendish, and I took the principal parts, and another time we arranged some _tableaux vivants_, which were among the best I have ever seen. We took two or three of the Sir Joshua’s which embellished the walls; one, a picture of his grandfather, was impersonated by the present lord, whose likeness to the original painting was most striking. Another most beautiful _tableau_ was that of Lady Waldegrave and her two sisters, from the famous group at Strawberry Hill. Lady Spencer and her two sisters[62] represented the three ladies in this exquisite portrait; and once more the family likeness they bore to the picture in question made it appear rather a replica than a living representation. The magnificent Vandyke of the two brothers-in-law, Lords Bristol and Bedford, which have been the glory of many later exhibitions, formed another successful specimen of our skill, and was entered in the programme as a miniature copy. The two noblemen above mentioned were personated by Horace Seymour[63] and Courtenay Boyle, the one dark, the other fair, but both comely youths at the time of which I am speaking. In this slight record of the annals of Althorp during my time, I cannot resist making some allusions to more than one member of the household whose doings and sayings caused us no slight amusement.
Footnote 61:
Brother to Sir Henry Ponsonby, afterwards in Holy Orders.
Footnote 62:
The late Lady Clifden and the late Lady Charles Bruce.
Footnote 63:
Brother to Charlotte, Countess Spencer.
Prominent among these was the house-steward, Thorpe, a man of great importance in his own estimation, as well as in that of others. His tastes were ultra-aristocratic, his manners in accordance with his tastes, and his language choice, very flowery, and sometimes quite original. One day, soon after his return from Cambridge, Lord Althorp thus addressed the worthy major-domo: “I think you understand that I wish my servant, Lennard, to go out of livery and become an upper servant.” “My lord,” was the pompous reply, “I have already given him his _statu quo_.”
One afternoon when the reception-rooms were being decorated for a ball, to which the whole neighbourhood was invited, Lady Spencer (the present) asked Thorpe if the gardener had finished arranging the ornamental monogram over the door. “Well, my Lady,” was the reply, in a hesitating tone of voice, “I believe he has done so, but I wish your Ladyship would cast an eye over it.” Lady Spencer saw by the speaker’s manner that there was something he found fault with. “I am very busy,” she said; “is it not all right?” “I am sorry to say, my Lady,” the words pronounced in a tone of deep regret, “they have placed over your Ladyship’s monogram a paltry baron’s coronet.”
[Sidenote: THE CHOULERS]
Another remarkable member of the community was Mrs Chouler, the wife of the aged gamekeeper, whose conjugal indignation was aroused one evening by the following incident. The order of the day, or rather night, had been charades, and finding that the hour was not late, we determined to eke out our performance with a word which had a local and limited interest. The day had been memorable to the family circle, on account of our young lord having made his first appearance in full and regular costume of the Pytchley Hunt. To commemorate so auspicious an event, we chose the word “Althorp.” First scene—the whole of the Dramatic Company assembled on the stage. Second scene—the great “Thorpe,” the stately house-steward before mentioned in solitary splendour. Third scene—Viscount Althorp in full hunting garb. The curtain fell amid deafening plaudits. Next day we called on Mrs Chouler, in her pretty house at the end of the avenue, and inquired her opinion of last night’s performance. “Well, Miss Mary,” she said, “of course if my lord thought proper, it was all right, but I think it struck most people as very odd that Thorpe should be bowing and scraping on the stage, when Chouler has lived in the family years and years before him.” Our expostulations were useless, it was in vain we tried to point out that “_all Chouler_” would not have answered, and I feel that to her dying day the memory of that evening’s festivity rankled in the mind of that faithful retainer.
Another time I paid Mrs Chouler a visit in company with what she used to call “The two Captains,” my brother Cavendish, and Captain Quin, R.N., Lord Spencer’s nephew. Says the latter: “You have a very good memory—can you tell me the name of the vessel my uncle Bob[64] had, in such and such a year? Neither Lord Spencer nor I can remember?” After a little discussion on the subject, Captain Quin suddenly exclaimed: “Oh, yes, by-the-by, I know now; it was the _Owen Glendower_.” “To be sure, sir, to be sure, that is it; I knew it was something of a sea-nymph.”
Footnote 64:
The Honourable Robert Spencer R.N.
The Choulers were an estimable couple, the old husband survived his wife many years, and when I last saw him, shortly before his death, still wearing his velveteen shooting-coat, with his long white hair falling on his shoulders, he looked like a figure out of one of Rembrandt’s beautiful pictures which had stepped out of its frame. He lived to the age of ninety-six.
Lord Spencer was very fond of frequenting his well-filled stables and conversing with his stud-groom as to the names and qualifications of their inmates. One day he remarked to him: “I have been thinking over the selection of a name for the new mare, but I cannot please myself yet.” “Well, my lord,” was the answer, “you bought her on the 29th of May; why not call her the ‘Merry Monarch?’” “Well,” said his master, striving to conceal a smile, “I think that will scarcely do; perhaps we had better call her ‘Empress,’ in honour of the Empress Eugénie.” “Very good, my lord, then I shall have nothing to do but to change the tablet over Emperor’s stall by adding an ‘s’ to it!” What an easy solution to a difficulty.
The library was also rich in characters. One of its keepers, Mr Jakeman, knew the position of every single book in its seven rooms. He was an excellent and eccentric-looking man, whom we named “Dominie Sampson.” His predecessor was a short, thick-set little man, who complained once to my brother that the then Lord Spencer did not keep up the honour of the library sufficiently, as he had discontinued some of the principal works. “Well, now, Captain,” he would say, “for instance, my lord has never taken in the last numbers of the ‘Newgate Calendar.’” Read was his name, but not his nature; he was very deaf, and even I, who flattered myself I knew how to make the deaf hear, found a difficulty in his case. He told us that some years before, he had had a heavy cold and it had fallen on his hearing; it must indeed have been very heavy.
[Sidenote: DEATH OF FREDERIC, EARL SPENCER]
It was in the Christmas of the year 1857 that a large party was assembled at Althorp, including my brother Cavendish, his wife, their eldest boy and myself; but alas! the chief part of the guests were obliged to disperse, and the happy season was turned into mourning by the sudden death of our noble host, Frederic, Lord Spencer, leaving a whole household, a large tenantry, and a wide circle of friends to mourn his premature death. We remained on for some days to share in the common grief of his widow and children. But his successor never slackened in kindness and hospitality to the inmates of the Weedon prison, and the “Gaoler,” as he was familiarly called, was still welcome in the old home, and still continued the charge he had undertaken of the precious Library, finding in Sarah Spencer[65] an invaluable colleague in this labour of love.
Footnote 65:
Sister of the present Earl Spencer.
I trust I have not been led into too long a digression in this record of the days which are no more, bound up as they are with fond memories of beloved companions, concerning whom it is a sad delight to converse with the dear cousin to whom I have dedicated these pages.
SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER
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WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR
It was at the house of G. P. R. James that we first became acquainted—that mutual friend of whom Landor thus speaks in one of his earliest letters to me:—
“You cannot overvalue James. There is not on God’s earth (I like this expression, vulgar or not) any better creature of His hand, any one more devoted to His high service—the office of improving us through our passions.”
The close friendship between these two men was to me inexpressively touching, inasmuch as it would be almost impossible to conceive a more striking contrast than they presented in every respect. Mr James, although a man of romance and sentiment, and by nature of an ardent temperament, had a quiet and staid demeanour, self-disciplined and self-contained; whereas all those who peruse any records of Landor must be well aware that none of the above epithets can in any way be applicable to him—such records, for instance, as Forster’s Life, the admirable sketch given by Mr Lowell of his first and only visit to that remarkable man at Bath, or the almost miraculous likeness of his moral portraiture by Mr Sidney Colvin, which caused me to ask the biographer if Landor had ever visited him in dreams. The pet name which I and my sister had for him was the “gentle savage.” Gentle and loving he was to those he loved, especially to women, both young and old; so much so indeed, as sometimes to be blinded in his discrimination of their worth, and which was unfortunately proved in his declining years when he became the dupe for a time of two designing women. The story is a well-known and most distressing one, for, when his eyes were opened, he did indeed become “savage,” and poured out the vials of his wrath in such violent and uncompromising language as legally to entitle his persecutors to heavy damages.
Gentle and pitiful he was to animals of all kinds, but dogs were his constant companions, and a large greyhound belonging to my sister was one of his special favourites. He told me once, quite in confidence, his discovery that dogs, whatever their nationality, understood Italian better than any other language; and in that soft tongue he always addressed a new canine acquaintance. In some letters written to me, which have been published in the _Century Magazine_, he thus speaks of “Pomero,” a dear little Pomeranian Spitz, and a great chum of my own when I used to go and pass a couple of days or so at Bath in a room hung with doubtful paintings of angels by Beato or Granacci, as he used laughingly to say, “an angel among angels”:[66]—
Footnote 66:
“Un Anguletto fra Anguli.”
“Alas, I have lost my poor dear Pomero! He died after a long illness, apparently from a kick he received during my absence. The whole house grieved for him. I buried him in a coffin in the garden. I would rather have lost everything else I possessed in the world. Seven years we lived together in more than amity. He loved me with all his heart; and what a heart it was! mine beats audibly while I write about him. Pray for me and Pomero; some people are so wicked as to believe we shall never meet again.”
Charles Dickens was one of Landor’s warmest admirers; he loved him dearly, and, as the saying goes, “all round.” He understood, and was even amused, by his outbursts of eloquent vituperation, and the character he has drawn of Boythorn in “Bleak House” is true to the very life.
A school-fellow thus describes him: “In those days he was the most impetuous of schoolboys, _now_ he is the most impetuous of men; _then_ the loudest boy in the world, _now_ the loudest of men; _then_ the sturdiest boy in the world, _now_ the sturdiest man; _then_ the heartiest boy in the world, _now_ the heartiest man. Talking or laughing he makes the very house shake. But it is the inside of the man, the warm heart of the man, the passion of the man, the fresh blood of the man. His language is as astounding as his voice. He is always in extremes, frequently in the superlative degree. He talks sometimes like an ogre, which some people believe him to be. No one could be more aware of his irascibility than Landor himself, who told me, amid shouts of laughter, how he had overheard a peasant at his own Florentine villa describing him in these terms: ‘Oh, he’s a capital good fellow, but—— he’s a real devil when the fit’s upon him.’”[67]
Footnote 67:
“Il signor è un vero Galant uomo, ma è un vero diavolo quando la piglia.”
Dear “gentle savage,” our whole household loved him—mother, son, daughters, and every dog in the house and yard. He would often come over to see us from Bath at our little woodland home at Millard’s Hill, and he erected at his own expense a large stone cross on the banks of Marston lake (the estate of my uncle, Lord Cork). The pedestal bore the inscription: “This symbol of safety was intended to mark the spot where Carolina Boyle[68] fell into the water, whence her sister’s courage rescued her.” Sooth to say, my exertions were rather a sign of strength than courage, for, walking by the side of the lake, I heard the terrible cry, “Help!” and coming up to the place, I leaped into the boat, and succeeded with much difficulty in lifting “Caddy”[69] into the same. I say with difficulty, as she was much bigger and taller than myself, and her clothes were entirely full of water, hanging for more than half an hour by the frail support of a willow branch, by which she was enabled to keep her head above water; the time was marked by the chimes of the clock at Marston House, which were distinctly audible on the lake. I have learned since, to my surprise and regret, that this interesting relic, namely the cross, has been removed.
Footnote 68:
The Honourable Carolina Boyle, daughter of Admiral the Honourable Sir Courtenay Boyle, K.C.B.
Footnote 69:
_Ibid._
Dear “gentle savage!” It is true that his voice was powerful enough to shake the house, but how tender, how musical, when he chose to modulate it! There is nothing I love more than to hear a poet read his own poems aloud, a favour in which the dear Laureate[70] has often indulged me. One day I brought two books to Landor, accompanied by a petition for the same boon. Two precious volumes, inasmuch as they were the respective gifts of our friend, G. P. R. James, and himself. In “Pericles and Aspasia” I requested him to read me the touching letter beginning “There is a gloom in deep love as in deep water,” which has ever struck me as one of the most exquisite passages in English prose, and in the “Pentameron” the book opened of itself at “Boccaccio’s Dream,” when he is blessed by the lovely vision of his lost “Fiammietta.”
Footnote 70:
Alfred, first Lord Tennyson.
More than half a century has passed away since that lecture under the shade of the sycamore in our little garden, but the tones of that voice that is gone still vibrate in my memory.
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VISCOUNT STRATFORD DE REDCLIFFE[71]
Footnote 71:
Stratford Canning, Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe; born 1786; died 1880.
My first acquaintance with this eminent man, who was known to his contemporaries as the great “Elchee,” was during his residence at Westbrook Hayes, within a few miles’ distance of Ashridge where I was then staying, and while there, and on his return to his house in Grosvenor Square, I always met with great kindness, and was encouraged to be a constant visitor; that, not only by the great “Elchee” himself, but by the gentle and courteous Lady Stratford,[72] whose rare fate it had been to be a wife and an ambassadress at twenty. Between their second daughter and myself there sprung up a close intimacy, and our meetings were frequent beneath the roof of dear Lady Marian Alford, where both in London and at Ashridge we were often fellow-guests, and earnestly did I share the grief of her two surviving sisters, when dear “Catty”[73] passed away.
Footnote 72:
Elizabeth Charlotte, daughter of James Alexander, Esq. She died in 1882.
Footnote 73:
Honourable Catharine Canning, daughter of above; born 1835; died 1884.
Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, even in his advanced years, was a man of magnificent presence, extreme personal beauty, with features which would kindle at a moment’s notice from deep calm to an expression of varied excitement. I have seldom seen a face that answered more faithfully to the feelings within, and although in his conversations with me he was ever kind and gentle, I could well imagine that it would be in no way difficult to rouse that British lion.
I was much amused by an anecdote I heard respecting him, at a time when the Eastern question was the universal theme of conversation.
One day a visitor, calling at his door, met Gladstone coming out. “How did you find Lord Stratford?” was the question addressed to the G.O.M. “Wonderfully well,” was the reply, “but quite cracked on the subject of Turkey.” The visitor entered. “I have just met Gladstone on the doorstep,” he said. “Yes,” answered Lord Stratford, “he is in great force and most agreeable, but, between ourselves, the Eastern question has sent him off his head.”
* * * * *
I hope I may be excused in concluding this short sketch, if I insert the following lines which he one day addressed to me, on my asking him for his autograph.
“To meet your wish I fain would write, But doubtful how to please, My words are flat, my notions trite, In short, I’m ill at ease.
“What may be done in such a fix Your wit alone can tell; Do you find straw to make the bricks, Be sure I’ll not rebel.
“I ask not wheat, I won’t take chaff, Between them lies an art Whereby to make the gravest laugh, Yet somehow touch the heart.
“If one there be who has the skill, To hit so nice a law, ’Tis she who prompts the tuneful quill, And gives the golden straw.”
STRATFORD DE REDCLIFFE.
_23rd September 1865._
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CARLYLE
It was on the death of his wife that Carlyle’s attached friend, Louisa, Lady Ashburton,[74] knowing the state of grief into which he was plunged by the sudden blow, persuaded him to come out to Mentone to pass some weeks with her in a charming villa not far from the hotel, La Grande Bretagne, where I was staying with Lady Marian Alford, and her son, the late Lord Brownlow. During the early part of the winter there had been daily intercourse between the Villa and the Hotel, and Lady Ashburton, anxious to distract the mourner’s mind, and give a new turn to his thoughts, induced him with herself to become a constant associate in our walks and drives, and to dine and pass the evening very frequently at the Hotel, and while away the hours in delightful conversation with the mother and son to whom I have before alluded. It was thus I learned to know and love Carlyle, of whose genius I had so long been an ardent admirer, that it was an easy transition from mere acquaintance to intimate friendship.
Footnote 74:
Louisa Caroline, daughter of the Right Honourable James A. Stewart-Mackenzie; married William, second Lord Ashburton.
Our visit to Mentone came to a sad and abrupt close through the sudden death of Lord Brownlow, one of the most gifted, single-minded, unselfish beings it was ever my privilege to meet. On the day previous to his death he rode, as was his wont, his favourite cob through the pretty woods of Cap St Martin, accompanied by myself, two other lady friends, and Carlyle, on foot. It was a beautiful scene, and a beautiful calm evening, and Carlyle wrote a most touching account of that last ride, which he said was a beautiful close to a beautiful life.
I met him afterwards in more than one country house in England, and when we were together in London I was in the constant habit of knocking at the door in Cheyne Row at the hour when I knew I should have the chance of enjoying the society which I prized so highly.
In one respect, and one alone, he reminded me of Walter Savage Landor, and that was the violent invectives in which he not infrequently indulged against persons, places, and opinions—a habit with which the readers of his life have become alas! too familiar. I say alas! because I think the injudicious publication of such exaggerated expressions through the cold medium of printed words, conveys a most erroneous impression of the man himself. It is true that, even while talking with me, Carlyle would launch forth into the most unwarrantable philippics, but then he would break off suddenly, and all the venom and bitterness be drowned in a burst of ringing laughter, and his handsome, though naturally grim, face would ripple all over with good-humoured smiles, so that no one who saw or heard him could doubt for a moment the kindly nature and the tender heart.
In the printed pages no friendly look is there, no tones of genial laughter, to counteract and soften down the words that look hard and uncompromising in black and white; and as I read the interesting record of his life, I earnestly desired that many passages might have been omitted.
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THE GROVE[75]
Footnote 75:
The seat of the Earl of Clarendon.
At this charming Hertfordshire home I was a constant guest, and I look back with gratitude and pleasure to the “many good times” and varied social enjoyments which the very name of The Grove awakens in my mind.
It seems almost presumptuous in me to speak of the late Lord Clarendon,[76] whose fame was European, yet it is impossible for me to refrain from paying a tribute, however humble, to a man I have had every reason to love and honour.
Footnote 76:
George William Frederick, fourth Earl, K.G.; born 1800; died 1870.
As a statesman and a diplomatist his character belongs to the annals of his country; but I can speak of him as I knew him at home, where he reigned supreme in the hearts of his wife and children, his friends, his guests, and his household. As a host he was perhaps the most genial I ever knew. In conversation I have never found any one to surpass him in brilliancy and playfulness of wit, and all without effort, without self-consciousness, and withal skilled in the profound art of nonsense. Neither did he reserve his bright sallies or his more serious views for the learned and superior, or for such men as the erudite Sir George Cornwall Lewis,[77] his brother-in-law, or his own brother, Charles Villiers,[78] although they met him on more equal grounds than the majority of his companions. Lord Clarendon, in fact, did not demand to be tried by his social peers, for in the society of the women who surrounded him—his own wife, his own daughters, and nieces, and, I may add, of myself—he shone as brightly, and took as great a delight in captivating his listeners as he could possibly have done had his audience been one of the largest and most distinguished, as it certainly was the most loving, in the world. How sociable (to use a common but expressive epithet), how snug were those domestic evenings, when one of his daughters, making herself the mouthpiece of the little circle, entreated him to read aloud to us! and how appreciative were the listeners who clustered round him as he read some scenes of Molière or some pages by Macaulay! And what a laugh he had!—what a ringing, silvery laugh, which we all, the actresses of the Grove Theatre, considered our highest guerdon, to whosesoever share it fell on the night of a dramatic performance.
Footnote 77:
Sir George Cornwall Lewis married Lady Theresa Lister, daughter of third Earl of Clarendon, and widow of Thomas Henry Lister, Esq.
Footnote 78:
The Right Hon. Charles Pelham Villiers; born 1802; died 1898; represented Wolverhampton from 1825 till his death.
His sister, Lady Theresa Lewis, resembled Lord Clarendon in many points; in intellectual gifts, in character and disposition, they were as nearly allied as in blood, and no two human beings surely ever understood each other better. Lady Theresa had been very beautiful in her youth, and in more advanced years still retained a charming smile and an expression in her blue eyes which in her earlier days might have been called “playful mischief.” By nature she had the most joyous spirits, a perfectly sunny temperament such, as was once remarked to me, “God generally gave to those for whom great sorrows were in store:” and assuredly such a fate was hers in the premature death of the husband and brother she adored. I remember that dear friend once saying to me, “happiness is so natural to me, I cannot live without it, and if grief comes, either I shall kill it or it will kill me.” Alas! that brave spirit was in the end forced to yield.
Before the marriage of Lord Clarendon’s daughters[79] and nieces,[80] who were more like sisters than cousins, we had frequent theatrical performances, and were very rich in _jeunes premières_ and _ingénues_, while I generally took the part of the _soubrette_, “maid-of-all-work,” or lower comedian. Lord Skelmersdale[81] was stage manager as well as actor, Sir Spencer Ponsonby Fane[82] the leading comedian, and Sir Villiers Lister[83] most versatile in the parts of first lover, principal juvenile and special artist, whether as scene-painter, drop-painter, or the more delicate _metier_ of make-up-artist to the _corps dramatique_. He and Lord Sefton[84] distinguished themselves one night in a splendid _pas-de-deux_, a tarantella in Neapolitan costume, Lord Sefton figuring as the _ballerina_ on the occasion, with very short petticoats. One of the _costumiers_ who had come down on duty suggested to his lordship the advisability of having a “female turned leg,” offering him the tempting option of models of the calves and ankles of those two world-renowned dancers, Cerito and Elsler.
Footnote 79:
The daughters—afterwards the Countess of Lathom, the Countess of Derby, and Lady Ampthill.
Footnote 80:
The nieces—twin sisters, Lady Loch, wife of the late Lord Loch, and the Countess of Lytton, Mrs Earle and the late Lady Glenesk.
Footnote 81:
The late Earl of Lathom.
Footnote 82:
The Hon. Sir Spencer Ponsonby Fane, G.C.B., late Comptroller of Accounts in the Lord Chamberlain’s Office, son of the fourth Earl of Bessborough.
Footnote 83:
Sir Villiers Lister, K.C.M.G., son of Lady Theresa Villiers by her first husband, Mr Lister.
Footnote 84:
The late Earl Sefton.
The present Lord Clarendon and his two brothers[85] had also their names almost nightly in our bills.
Footnote 85:
Lieut.-Col. the Hon. George Villiers, Grenadier Guards; born 1847; died 1892. Hon. Francis Villiers, Under-Secretary to the Foreign Office; born 1852.
In these theatrical sports we often had by-days, when the drama assumed a most illegitimate form, and one night the late Mr Bidwell,[86] so well known as an eminent amateur, appeared in an acrobatic costume as the manager of a strolling company, whose varied talents he utilised as “the strong man,” “the dancer on the tight rope” (a rather broad but very elastic deal plank), “a rapid act on a hobby-horse,” with clown and riding-master in the true circus fashion, etc., all of which fantastic tricks appeared to amuse the audience as much as they did the actors, which was all that could be expected.
Footnote 86:
Mr George Bidwell of the Foreign Office.
From the walls of the principal apartments, which served us in our festive hours for ball- or supper-rooms, looked down upon us many a cavalier immortalised by Vandyck, and at the upper end of the dining-room one of that great Fleming’s _chef-d’œuvres_. This was the splendid portrait of the famous Earl of Derby and his heroic Countess, Charlotte de-la-Tremouille. It was strange and interesting to think that of two of Lord Clarendon’s daughters, who feasted and danced beneath that picture, one[87] was destined to bear the title and inhabit the house which the lady above their heads had so gallantly defended, and the other[88] to become the wife of that noble pair’s lineal descendant.
Footnote 87:
Alice, Countess of Lathom.
Footnote 88:
Constance, wife of the fifteenth Earl of Derby.
And thus ends the record of those happy days, which I hope will not prove distasteful to any of the dear companions whose eyes may fall on these pages. Happy days they were, and varied in enjoyment. For in winter there were torch dances and skating on the water; in summer paper-chases all over the beautiful woods, with rides and walks in sweet Cassiobury Park and its environs, with joyous balls and merry suppers, with young, blooming life and cheerful companionship.
-------
HINCHINGBROOKE
The name had been familiar to me from my earliest childhood as the home of my mother’s uncle and that of her contemporaries and favourite companions, George[89] and Mary[90]; but it was not till after my dear mother’s death that I became a frequent guest at the house she loved so well. For in the days of which I am speaking, the master[91] and mistress[92] were both friends of my own, and I had known them both before their marriage, and the cordial welcome they jointly gave me was gladly accepted and appreciated, particularly when the schoolboys came home for the holidays, for of schoolboys, I am proud to say, I have ever been a chum and crony.
Footnote 89:
George, afterwards sixth Earl of Sandwich.
Footnote 90:
Mary, afterwards Viscountess Templeton.
Footnote 91:
Seventh Earl of Sandwich.
Footnote 92:
Lady Mary Paget, second daughter of the Earl of Anglesey by his second marriage with Lady Charlotte Cadogan.
Hinchingbrooke is an interesting old house, and was originally a nunnery; some parts of the religious building are still standing. It was at one time the property of the Cromwell family, and was purchased by Sir Sydney Montagu, grandfather of the first Earl of Sandwich, from the uncle of the Protector.
There is a tradition of Oliver having met King Charles I., when they were both boys, in the garden of Hinchingbrooke, when the two who were destined to be future foes engaged in a juvenile encounter, but the story requires proof.
The present structure is irregular and picturesque, having been altered and added to at intervals during the last two hundred years by succeeding owners. The entrance is through the archway of a fine gate-house, where it is said the third Earl of Sandwich, a man of feeble intellect, was confined for some time by his unscrupulous wife, the daughter of the witty but unprincipled Earl of Rochester. It is surrounded by pretty grounds rich in evergreens, situated in a small park, and presents a very imposing aspect to the railway traveller as he passes the town of Huntingdon.
The ancestors of few families however noble appear to me to have more interest for outsiders than the house of Montagu. Edward, the first Earl of Sandwich, who was so instrumental in the restoration of Charles II., is familiar to all readers of Pepys’s Diary, being the god of that amusing gossip’s idolatry. Samuel prided himself on his relationship and intimacy with Lord and Lady Hinchingbrooke, of whom he was certainly the confidant and adviser. Indeed, he lived hard by in a little cottage at Brampton, within a stone’s throw of his patron’s house, where he would often go and confer with him or “with my Lady Countess” in her husband’s absence. That noble housewife was often “put to it” to make two ends meet, in consequence of her lord’s open-handedness and the too frequent card-playing with His Majesty and the Castle men. Brave, generous, noble-hearted and affectionate, we cannot but share in his kinsman Pepys’s partiality for a man whose faults and shortcomings may in some measure be condoned by the times he lived in and the society he frequented. As an Admiral his sailors adored him; as a courtier he was reckoned good—perhaps too good—company, and at home he was tenderly loved by his wife and children and dependants. We know that his lordship was comely in feature and of a commanding presence, and there is little doubt that he himself agreed in the universal opinion, as we have innumerable portraits of him at all ages. He died a hero’s death at the engagement at Southwolds Bay in 1672, a Dutch fire-ship having set his own vessel in a blaze. The gallant Admiral, after sending off his surviving officers and crew in the boats, remained on his own quarter-deck until his good ship, _The Royal James_, burned to the water’s edge. There is a splendid painting of this desperate fight by Vanderweldt in what is fondly called the “ship room” at Hinchingbrooke, and on the opposite wall hangs a frame containing two fine miniatures by Cooper of the first Earl and Countess, together with a small pocket compass and a piece of the blue ribbon of the garter, discoloured by sea-water, which were found on the Admiral’s body when it floated into Harwich Harbour.
Another prominent figure in the annals of the house and its portrait gallery is John, fourth Earl, a contrast in every way to the ancestor of whom we have been treating, yet a celebrity whose name is very conspicuous in the records of George III.’s reign. He was a man of eccentric habits but undoubted talent. An amusing anecdote is told of him when acting as plenipotentiary at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1746. It was at this time, during an international dinner when toasts were passing, that the different envoys became poetical as well as loyal in their phraseology. For instance, the Frenchman gave “His Royal master, the Sun, who illuminates the whole world;” the Spaniard “His master, the Moon, scarcely inferior in brilliancy or influence,” when Lord Sandwich rose, doubtless with the twinkle in his eye and the laughing curl round the corners of his mouth we see in most of his portraits, and toasted with all the honours “His master Joshua, who made both the sun and moon to stand still.”
This remarkable man was known in social circles by the nickname of “Jemmy Twitcher,” from the following incident. He had at one time been intimate with the notorious Wilkes, the so-called champion of liberty, but disgusted by a scurrilous and disloyal poem which his quondam friend had written, Sandwich read it aloud in the House of Lords, thus gaining for it deserved obloquy. A few nights afterwards, at the representation of _The Beggar’s Opera_, then much in vogue, Macheath exclaimed: “But that Jemmy Twitcher should preach I own surprises me.” The greater part of the audience, who were partisans of “Wilkes and Liberty,” burst into a round of applause, applying the passage to Lord Sandwich, who never afterwards lost the _sobriquet_.
There is a charming picture by Gainsborough[93] of the unfortunate Miss Ray, whose romantic story tempts me into a further digression. She was serving in a haberdasher’s shop in Covent Garden when she first attracted the notice of Lord Sandwich, who was so smitten by her charms, that he took her under his protection, and she resided with him for many years both in London and the country, where her gentle, unassuming manners and remarkable talent for singing made her a great favourite. One evening Lord Sandwich brought home with him to dinner a Captain Hackman, who was on a recruiting party at the time at Huntingdon; he fell in love with Miss Ray, and proposed to her several times, until Lord Sandwich with judicious kindness secured him an appointment in Ireland, thinking it safest to place St George’s channel between him and the object of his admiration. But Hackman’s passion was strong and lasting; he left the army, entered holy orders, repaired to London where Lord Sandwich and Miss Ray then were, frequently waylaid the latter, renewed his offers of marriage, and even promised to adopt the children she had by Lord Sandwich. The refusal he received to this proposition was so decided and uncompromising as to drive him to the verge of madness. He watched Margaret Ray enter Covent Garden with some musical friends, rushed out, bought a brace of loaded pistols, and returned to the door of the theatre to await the appearance of his victim. Her coach was called in the name of Lady Sandwich, and while proceeding to it on the arm of a gentleman Hackman aimed one pistol at her and the other at himself; she fell dead, he fell wounded, and they were both conveyed to the Shakespeare Tavern. Lord Sandwich was deeply distressed at the tragic end of his fair friend; yet he wrote a letter to the murderer in Newgate, offering to intercede on his behalf, signing himself, “the man you have most injured.” But Hackman’s reply, couched in grateful terms, assured his “lordship that his only wish was to die,” and he met his death with firmness and courage.
Footnote 93:
Bought for a comparatively small sum by the late Earl.
But to return to more modern times. Many were the delightful social gatherings, many the gay dances, _tableaux vivants_, private theatricals, and other festive doings in which I took a willing part. How well I remember the night of the 8th of September, 1855! We had had an unusually merry evening; our theatricals had gone off brilliantly, and we had danced ourselves in to the next morning, when Lord Sandwich proposed that all his guests staying in the house should adjourn to the smoking-room to finish up what we had already made “a night of.” We presented a most motley appearance, most of the actors, male and female, having retained their dramatic costumes, some of which were especially grotesque. The ladies were laughing and talking, the gentlemen smoking and sipping, when we were all alike startled by the sound of the door-bell at that unearthly hour. Lord Sandwich rose, and said he would answer the summons himself, and a moment of suspense, not unmingled with fear, ensued. The door re-opened, our host re-entered, his handsome face illuminated with joy and triumph. Glorious news! Sevastopol was taken! the war was at an end! How we all shouted, while some clapped their hands, and leaped on chairs, and one and all drank to the health of our brave soldiers, and to their safe return.
It was in January 1859 that a very large party was assembled at Hinchingbrooke in honour of the visit of H.R.H. the Duchess of Cambridge[94] and Princess Mary Adelaide.[95] One evening, in hopes of amusing the company, I imagined to array myself in the costume of a hundred years before, and stepping from a frame which had been set up for that purpose, I spoke an address in the character of the Countess of Sandwich of 1759, which concluded with the following tribute to our much-loved Royal guests:
Footnote 94:
The late Duchess of Cambridge.
Footnote 95:
The late Duchess of Teck.
“It does rejoice my heart the time was mine To come among you all in Fifty-nine, To see with living eyes the fair array Of noble, gentle company to-day; It proves you keep the spirit of your race, When guests like these our ancient dwelling grace. Those who esteem the will beyond the deed, Who no stiff forms or rigid customs need, Who claim respect, yet kindle love the while, Reward the smallest service with a smile, Meet all half-way, accept each proffered part, And draw the court we pay them from the heart.”
This was a feeble but honest expression of the affection we all bore to that noble lady whose loss we are mourning in this present year of 1889, and who, although she had outlived by far the generally allotted span, was so much beloved that England was unwilling to spare her.
Often after this time I saw a great deal of the Duchess of Cambridge in different country houses, and on different occasions, and the unceasing kindness I have met with for years from Princess Mary is repaid by all I have to offer, “the grateful homage of a loving heart.” I took the deepest interest in her marriage with the Duke of Teck, to whom at that period we gave the name of “Prince Charming.” But I am once more wandering from my subject and indulging in the flittings of a butterfly.
The party to which I have alluded, as I said before, was in the opening of the New Year of 1859, but alas! the good wishes and happy auguries which that merry company had interchanged were not destined to be fulfilled. Before the month of March was over Hinchingbrooke was hung with black, and the sudden death of Lady Sandwich plunged us all in the deepest mourning. Her bright blue eyes were closed, the tones of her bird-like voice were hushed, and in her I lost one of the truest and most indulgent of friends. But my visits to that dear old house were not discontinued, for, on Lord Sandwich’s second marriage to Lady Blanche Egerton[96] I found one willing to keep up the old traditions and retain the old friendships of the family, and ever ready to reinstate me in the place I had so long looked upon as a home. Nor is my case altered with passing years and changed circumstances, for the present owner,[97] whom I have known and loved since he was an Eton boy, is continually reminding me that the doors of Hinchingbrooke are ever open to his own and his mother’s friend.
Footnote 96:
Daughter of the first Earl of Ellesmere.
Footnote 97:
Edward, eighth Earl of Sandwich.
-------
OSSINGTON
It had been a long promise that I should pay a summer visit to Ossington in Nottinghamshire, the residence of my good friends, Evelyn Denison, Speaker of the House of Commons, and his wife, Lady Charlotte, _née_ Bentinck.[98] Shortly after my return from Madeira, I proceeded on my way thither with the delightful prospect of meeting Lady Waterford,[99] the Duc and Duchesse d’Aumale, their son,[100] and my old friend Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford.
Footnote 98:
Daughter of the fourth Duke of Portland.
Footnote 99:
Louisa, daughter of Lord Stuart de Rothesay, widow of the third Marquis of Waterford.
Footnote 100:
Prince de Condé.
It was proposed that this should essentially be a riding party, and the chief aim and object of our excursions was devoted to showing their Royal Highnesses the sylvan beauties of Sherwood. Accordingly, one morning after breakfast, we repaired, in a carriage and four, equipped for riding, to a wayside inn, on the precincts of the forest, and mounting our horses, took our way through the beautiful glades, where Robin Hood disported himself of old. My especial cavalier on that occasion was the Prince de Condé, a youth of rare promise, of intellectual gifts and gentle courtesy, whom I dubbed my _preux chevalier_, and whose untimely death we were all ere long called upon to mourn. The Duke and Duchess rode chiefly with our host, while Lord Stanley[101] and the Bishop joined first one and then the other group of our cavalcade. We halted at the door of Earl Manvers, and did ample justice to the mid-day banquet, which he and his amiable Countess had prepared for the visitors from Ossington. Then remounting, we prosecuted our pilgrimage through the forest to all the haunts (according to legendary law) of the noble outlaw; during the whole of our ride, having galloped over a wide expanse of turf, we had scarcely heard the sound of our horses hoofs, as the dear Speaker proudly remarked to us, till we once more reached the inn and re-entered our carriage.
Footnote 101:
The fifteenth Earl of Derby.
Will the Duc d’Aumale, if ever he honours these pages with a perusal, accept this lowly acknowledgment of one, on whose memory the delights of his conversation and the graciousness of his manner are indelibly impressed; and who recalls with gratitude the time of waiting at that wayside inn, which was whiled away by pleasant narratives from the lips of the good Duchess.
-------
ASHRIDGE
Ashridge is one of the finest parks in England, rich in magnificent timber trees, more especially tall and stately beech, which are the glory of the surrounding country. The estate originally belonged to the Duke of Bridgwater, and was brought into the possession of the Cust family by the paternal grandmother of the present owner, the daughter and heiress of Sir Abraham Home. It was nearly passing out of the family some years ago, when a complicated lawsuit took place, and would almost inevitably have done so, had it not been for the untiring zeal, clear head and sound judgment of the young Earl’s mother,[102] who supplied all the leading lawyers of the day with the requisite information in a most puzzling and entangled case.
Footnote 102:
Lady Marian Alford, eldest daughter of the second Marquis of Northampton.
It was on the occasion of her brother’s[103] marriage with the beautiful Theodosia Vyner,[104] that Lady Marian, who presided as hostess during her son’s minority, threw open the gardens, pleasure-grounds and park to a large and numerous assemblage of friends and acquaintance, consisting for the most part of the _élite_ of London society. It was a beautiful summer’s day, and at the two then equi-distant stations of Berkhampstead and Tring innumerable conveyances were in waiting to convey the guests to the scene of festivity. My brother Cavendish[105] and I chose Tring as our halting-place, and were fortunate in so doing, as the entrance from that side is perhaps the more picturesque of the two.
Footnote 103:
Charles, third Marquis of Northampton; born 1816; died 1859.
Footnote 104:
He married Theodosia Vyner, daughter of Henry Vyner, Esq., and Lady Mary de Gray. She died in 1864.
Footnote 105:
Cavendish Spencer Boyle; born 1814; died 1868.
The description of most garden parties is likely to bear much similarity, but certainly this was a most brilliant scene, for London was in the height of the season, though not sufficiently advanced to interfere with the freshness and fashion of the ladies’ toilettes. There was a great preponderance of beauty, amongst whom little Florence Paget[106] looked especially lovely, flitting in and out among the flower-beds, whose brightness she seemed to have borrowed in the hues of her costume and the brilliancy of her whole aspect. That was my first introduction to stately Ashridge, which was henceforth destined to become a real home to me.
Footnote 106:
Lady Florence Paget, daughter of Henry, second Marquess of Anglesey; married first the fourth Marquis of Hastings, and secondly Sir George Chetwynd, Bart.
I know not how, at this moment, when my loss is so recent, to attempt the slightest record of the friend[107]—the word is an old-fashioned one, but is there another to supersede it?—the benefactress, the _confidante_, of so long a period. She was undoubtedly one of the most gifted beings I ever encountered. “What she did still bettered what was done....”
Footnote 107:
Lady Marian Alford, died 1888.
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WREST PARK
This magnificent dwelling, now in possession of Earl Cowper, K.G., but at the time of which I am writing, was the residence of his mother,[108] who inherited it from Earl de Grey,[109] her father. The estate of Wrest, together with the fine mansion in St James’s Square, London, devolved on the above-mentioned nobleman on the death of his aunt, Countess de Grey. This house of Wrest in Bedfordshire he pulled down and rebuilt according to his own designs in the style of a French chateau. The pictures which adorn the walls were painted expressly for him; the tapestry which lends so rich a colouring to the interior of Wrest was woven under Lord de Grey’s immediate direction in the _atéliers_ of the Gobelins; while the rich gilding, cornices, and ceilings were all executed under his supervision, and do the greatest credit to his taste and ingenuity. He also supplemented the plans and enlarged the ornamentation of the already beautiful gardens and pleasure-grounds which surround the house. It was also from the ingenious design of Lord de Grey that the charming little theatre was constructed, the stage of which rolled backwards and forwards at will, while two splendid portraits by Sir Joshua Reynolds ornamented the proscenium.
Footnote 108:
Anne Florence, daughter of Thomas, second Earl de Grey; born 1806; died 1880.
Footnote 109:
Thomas Philip, second Earl de Grey, who inherited Wrest from his aunt, Amabel, Countess de Grey.
It was my good fortune on several occasions at Wrest to form one of a pleasant company, both dramatic and social. Our hostess was one of the most agreeable and distinguished members of society, and I scarcely think I can do better than transcribe her moral portraiture, traced by the hand of one who knew her and loved her well.
“I think I can sum up Lady Cowper’s leading attributes in three words—wit, wisdom, and goodness. In the relationship of daughter, wife, and mother, she left nothing to be desired; as a hostess she was pre-eminently agreeable, being a most delightful companion; she had lived with all that was politically and socially distinguished in her day, and had read all that was worth reading in modern literature. She derived keen enjoyment from the ‘give and take’ of discussion; her opinions were decided, and their expression fresh and spontaneous; into whatever well it was lowered the bucket invariably came up full.” In her later days, even under the pressure of failing health, her conversational powers never flagged; she was most brilliant in the freshness of morning, and shone conspicuously at the breakfast table, thereby rendering that repast far more animated than is usually the case. Her sallies, though never ill-natured, were often unexpected and startling, which added a zest to her conversation.
For two or three years running we had theatrical performances, our _dramatis personæ_ including Mr Henry Greville,[110] Mr and Mrs Sartoris,[111] Lady Alice Egerton,[112] Mrs Leslie,[113] Lord Hamilton[114] and others.
Footnote 110:
Henry Greville, son of Mr Charles and Lady Charlotte Greville.
Footnote 111:
Adelaide Kemble and her husband.
Footnote 112:
Now Alice, Countess of Strafford, widow of the third Earl of Strafford.
Footnote 113:
Now Lady Constance Leslie, wife of Sir John Leslie, and sister of the fourth Earl of Portarlington.
Footnote 114:
Present Duke of Abercorn.
INDEX
Aachen, lake of, 191
Abercorn, Duke of, 90_n_, 282_n_
Adelaide, Queen, 29; appoints Caroline Boyle maid of honour, 101
Albano, 133
Alderney, island of, 171, 174
Alexander, Captain, Lieutenant-Governor of Alderney, 4_n_, 174; —— his anecdote, 175 —— Elizabeth Charlotte, 176, 265_n_ —— James, 265_n_ —— Rose, 4_n_, 174; her marriage, 175
Alford, Lady Marian, 184, 204, 266, 267, 280 —— Lord, 184
Althorp, 253; library, 253; staircase, 254; heronry, 254; Portrait Gallery, 254
Alvanley, Lord, 180
Amalfi, 136
Ampthill, Lady, 270_n_
Anderson, Miss Mary, 106
Anglesey, Earl of, 272_n_; skipper of his craft, 144
“Annie Winnie,” 44
Asberry, Mr, 53
Ashburton, Louisa, Lady, 267
Ashby, Castle, 184 —— Farmer, 87
Ashridge, 279
Astley’s theatre, 35
Ausberg, review at, 190
Aumale, Duc and Duchesse d’, at Ossington, 278
Autolycus, lines from, 2
_Bachelor Philosopher, The_ 89
Baiæ, 138
Baker, Eric, 205
_Bal Costumé_, 165-167
Balbi, 104
_Ballets d’action_, 107
Balls, Park, 3, 55
Bath, Marquis of, 53_n_
Bavaria, King Louis of, 188; stories of, 189
Bedford, Duke of, 90
Beer, Mr 45 —— Mrs, Under-Housekeeper at Hampton Court, 45
Belgiojoto, Countess, 140
Bentinck, Lady Charlotte, 278
Beppa, the florist, 222
Berri, Duchesse de, 127
Bessborough, Earl of, 271_n_
Bidwell, Mr George, 271
“Billy,” 98
“Black Taffy,” 16
“Boch Dhu,” 96, 125, 137
Boddingtons, the, 117
Bognor, bathing fatality at, 59
Bomba, King, 140
Bonaparte, Caroline, 152; her appearance, 153
Boucicault, 35
Boulogne-sur-Mer, 236; outbreak of diphtheria, 237
Bourbon, Charles de, 119
Bowood, 250
Boxall, Sir William, his portrait of Sir William Napier, 171
Boyl, Cavaliere Pietro de, 105, 225; Governor of Sardinia, 105
Boyle, Mrs Carolina Amelia, her appearance, 10; appointed bed-chamber woman to Queen Charlotte, 30 —— Caroline, 3, 4_n_; her appearance, 11; appointed maid of honour to Queen Adelaide, 101 —— Cavendish Spencer, his birth, 4; at Charterhouse, 36; his engagement, 175; in the West Indies, 178; death, 241; appointed Governor of the Militia Prison at Weedon, 256; at Ashridge, 280 —— Charles John, 3, 4_n_; his appearance, 11; sketches of him, 12; _attaché_ at the English Legation, Turin, 104; at Munich, 187; engagement, 205; marriage, 206; appointment at the Cape of Good Hope, 225 —— Charlotte, 3; her death, 12; burial-place, 13; epitaph, 13 —— Vice-Admiral The Hon. Sir Courtenay, 4; enters the Navy, 5; letter from Lord Nelson, 6; shipwrecked in Egypt, 7; taken prisoner by the French, 7; letter to his wife, 8; return, 9; Commissioner at Sheerness Dockyard, 15; appointment at the Navy Board, 30; punctuality, 37; illness, 101; decorated with the Guelphic and Hanoverian Order, 106; death, 170 —— Sir Courtenay Edmund, 36_n_ —— Courtenay Edmund William, 3, 4_n_; his first cruise, 10; character, 10; marriage, 11, 158 —— Courtenay, 213, 257 —— Lady Lucy, 56_n_ —— Mary Louisa, her birth, 1, 3, 4_n_; appearance and height, 2; light-heartedness, 2; brothers and sisters, 3, 10-13; parents, 4; love of heraldry, 4; ancestry, 5; life at Sheerness, 15-30; feats of horsemanship, 16, 61, 95, 182; retainers, 16-19; juvenile flirtations, 19-22; fondness for Shakespeare’s plays, 22; on the one-legged race, 23; her first Play, 25-28; at Somerset House, 30-39; early dramatic recollections, 33-35; visits to the Royal Academy, 35; to the Charterhouse, 36; on the coronation of George IV., 37-39; fondness for Sir W. Scott’s books, 38, 78; life at Hampton Court, 39-50; on the officials, 44-46; heroic butcher boy, 46-48; the thrush, 48-50; at Marston Bigot, 51; Balls Park, 55; number of cousins, 56; Wigan Rectory, 56; taming a wolf-dog, 56; Cowdray Park, 57; the bathing fatality, 59; “ghost story,” 60; walk with “Courage,” 61; political views, 62; Midgham House, 64; Cottage, 65; on the eccentricities of Illidge, 66, 70-72; on Mrs Garrick 67-70; members of the household, 73-79; at Brighton, 80; _tableaux_, 82, 256; at school, 84; music and dancing lessons, 85; dances at Dr Everard’s school, 87; début, 88; dramatic representation, 89; leaves school, 91; at Greystoke Castle, 92-96; theatricals, 95, 147-152, 212, 227, 232, 251, 256, 271; at Corby Castle, 96; the haunted chamber, 96; visit to Lord Southampton, 97; on the conspiracy to see Fanny Kemble, 98; accession of William IV., 99; illness of her father, 101; arrangements for travelling, 103; at Turin, 104; Genoa, 104-114; riding parties, 105; the Masquerade, 107-112; at the Baths of Lucca, 114-124; the Boddingtons, 117; the servants’ ball, 118; the Duke and Duchess of Lucca, 119; on the religious festival at Lucca, 120; lines on the Duchess, 121; at Florence, 125-129, 146, 201, 209-224; on the de Fauveaus, 126; first impression of Rome, 130; painters and sculptors, 131; at Naples, 133; Moonlight rides, 135; excursions, 136; at the castle of Sant’ Elmo, 138; the feast of the Madonna dell’ Arco, 140; haunted apartments, 141-143; at Pisa, 145; her acting, 148; on the office of prompter, 148; friendship for G. P. R. James, 152; on Caroline Bonaparte, 153-156; Geppina, the flower-girl, 156; lines on, 156; visit to the Duchess of Gloucester, 158; mistaken for Princess Victoria, 160; on her coronation, 161; at Millard’s Hill, 163; Tenby, 164; _bal costumé_, 165; on Charles Young, 166-169; death of her father, 170; at Havilland Hall, 170; lines on Sir William Napier, 172; on Mr and Mrs Kean, 173; at the Island of Sark, 174; Alderney, 174; Whittlebury Lodge, 179-186; on Colonel Leigh, 180; sporting ecclesiastics, 182, 183; musical evenings, 185; at Munich, 187-191; on the dramatic performances, 187; King Louis of Bavaria, 188-190; at Ravenna, 191-193; Rome, 194-200, 242; on Pope Pius IX., 195; the “Possesso,” 197-199; life at Villa Careggi, 201-207; at the Baths of Casciano, 207; legend of the falcon, 208; on Charles Lever, 210-214; the French Revolution, 214; the Tuscan Revolution, 216; on the Brownings, 217-220; the disturbances in Italy, 221; Beppa, the florist, 222; farewells at Florence, 224; in London, 225; visit to Adelaide Sartoris, 225-227; fondness for Charles Dickens’ books, 229; first meeting with him, 231; letter from Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, 232; from Charles Dickens, 234; death of her friend Fanny, 234; at Boulogne, 237; Gad’s Hill, 238-241; death of her brother Cavendish, 241; of Charles Dickens and Lord Clarendon, 242; at Burghley House, 244; on Lord Derby, 247; Disraeli, 248; at Bowood, 250; Althorp, 253; members of the household, 257-260; death of Frederic, Lord Spencer, 261; on Landor, 262-265; Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, 265-267; Carlyle, 267; The Grove, 269; on Lord Clarendon, 269-272; Hinchingbrooke, 272; Earls of Sandwich, 273-278; Duchess of Cambridge, 277; Ossington, 278; Ashridge, 279-281; Wrest Park, 281; on Lady Cowper, 282 —— Richard, 51 —— The Rev. the Hon. Richard, 170; his marriage, 176 —— Robert, “Divine Philosopher of the World,” 5, 51 —— Roger, 51
Bridgeman, Rev. George, 56
Bridgwater, Duke of, 279
Brighton, 80
Brignole, Marchesa, 105
Broadwood, Mary, 85, 89
Broghill, Baron, 51
Brooks, 73
Browne, Elizabeth, 57
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, lines on a procession, 217; appearance, 219 —— Robert, 219; his death, 220
Brownlow, Lord, 267; his death, 268
Bruce, Lady Charles, 256_n_
Buller, James, 93_n_ —— Sir Redvers, 93_n_
Bunsen, Madame de, 130
Burdett, Major, 58
Burghley House, 244
Burlington, Countess of, her predilection for Mdlle. Violette, 68 —— Lord, his connection with Mdlle. Violette, 68; dowry on her marriage, 69
Butler, Frances Anne, 225_n_
Byng, Hon. George, 227
Cadogan, Lady Charlotte, 272_n_
Calabritti, Palazzo, 133; the ghost of, 141-143
Call, W. M. W., lines on “Eleanor’s Well,” 177
Cambridge, Duchess of, at Hinchingbrooke, 276
Camille, Count de, 109, 113
Canning, Hon. Catharine, 266_n_
Capri, island of, 143
Capua, Prince of, 143
Cardigan, Lord, at the _bal costumé_, 167
Careggi, Villa, 201; frescoes, 201; servants, 203
Carlisle, Lord, 56
Carlyle, 267; at Mentone, 267; character, 268
Carnarvon, Henry, Earl of, 93_n_
Caroline, Queen, 64
Carteret, Lord, 40
Casciano, Baths of, 207; legend of the discovery, 208
Cassiobury Park, 272
Cawdor, Earl of, 165
“Chaillach,” 164
Chambord, Comte de, 122
Channel Islands, trip to the, 170-176
Charles III. of Parma, assumes the title, 123; assassinated, 123
Charlotte, Queen, 30
Charterhouse, 36
_Chatham_, 29
Chetwynd, Sir George, 280_n_; his marriage, 242
Cholmondeley, Hugh, 135
Chouler, Mr, 259 —— Mrs, 258
Ciabatti, 226
Clarence, Duchess of, 29, 31
Clarence, Duke of, 29; his daughters, 100
Clarendon, Lord, 269; his death, 242; character and gifts, 269; laugh, 270
Clifden, Lady, 82, 256_n_
Clifford, Sir Augustus, 87 —— Rosamund, 5 —— Admiral Sir William, 87
Clinton, Frances, Lady, 11_n_, 154
Collins, Mrs Charles, 240 —— Wilkie, 237
Compton, Lady Katrine, 226_n_
Condé, Prince de, at Ossington, 279
Consort, Prince, 166; at the _bal costumé_, 166
Convicts, 17
Corby Castle, haunted chamber, 96
Cork and Orrery, Earl of, 4, 51, 163; letter from Lord Nelson, 6
Corn Laws, 247
Cornelius, 188
_Cornish Miners_, 34
“Courage,” the St Bernard, 61
Courcy, General de, 150
Covent Garden, 36
Coventry, Lady Mary, 105_n_
Cowdray Park, 57; destroyed by fire, 58
Cowper, Francis, Earl, 226_n_, 281 —— Lady, her leading attributes, 282
Cowper’s Oak, 183
Crackenthorpe, Mr, 92_n_
Crawford, Countess of, 152
Cromartie, Lord, under sentence of death, 65
Cromwell, Oliver, 51
Cumberland, William, Duke of, 65; at Midgham, 65
Cunningham, Mr Peter, 237
_Cure for the Heartache_, 147
Damer, Mrs Dawson, 82
“Danny Man,” 31
Dante, tomb of, 191
Day, Rachel, 74
Delamere, Lord, 135
Demidoff, Prince Anatole, 206; anecdote of, 206
Denison, Evelyn, 278
Denmark, Queen Anne of, her visit to Althorp, 254
Derby, Countess of, 270_n_, 272 —— Lord, 247
Devonshire, Duke of, 33
Devrient, Emil, his acting, 167
Dickens, Charles, 13, 56, 229; first meeting with Mary Boyle, 231; on her acting, 233; letter from, 234; his social evenings, 235; children, 236; at Boulogne, 236; extensive walks, 237; at Gad’s Hill, 238; his _châlet_, 239; drives and walks, 239; visitors, 240; letters of sympathy, 242; stroke of paralysis, 243; death, 243 —— Charles, his children, 241 —— Harry, 236 —— Katie, 240 —— Mary, 240 —— Mayne, 5 —— “Micketty,” 241
Dinon, Duc de, 150
Diphtheria, outbreak of, 237
Disraeli, Benjamin, 248 —— Mrs, 249
Donkin, Sir Rufane, 81
Doria, 104
D’Orsay, Count, 180
Drumlanrig Castle, 66
Dufferin and Ava, Marquis of, 42, 226
Durazzo, 104
Earle, Mrs, 270_n_
Edgcumbe, Hon. George, 147; his acting, 147
Egerton, Lady Alice, 282
Egerton, Lady Blanche, 278
Egg, Augustus, 233
Ellesmere, Earl of, 278_n_
Elliot, Lady Anna Maria, 81; her acting, 82 —— Captain, 212
Elmo, Sant’, Castle of, 138
Elves, Emily, 90
Elwes, Mr, 180
Erroll, Eliza, Countess of, 100
Erskine, Augusta Kennedy, 100
Everard, Dr, his school, 86; dances at, 87
Exeter, Isabella, Lady, 11_n_, 244_n_; at the _bal costumé_, 167; appearance and number of suitors, 245 —— Lord, 35; his hospitality, 244_n_; marriages, 246_n_; children, 246_n_
Falcon, legend of the, 208
Falkland, Lady, 100
Fane, Hon. Sir Spencer Ponsonby, 271
Fauveau, Madame, de, 126 —— Félicie, de, 127, 153, 201, 207, 215; banished from France, 128; her works, 129
Fechter, 239, 240
Ferrai, Madame, 105
_First Night, The_, 227
Fitzclarence, Amelia, 100
Fitzherbert, Mrs, her parties, 81; appearance, 83
Fitzroy, Lord Charles, 182
Florence, 125, 201
“Flush,” 219
Fordwich, Lord, 226
Forster, John, 233
Foster, Sir Augustus and Lady Albinia, 104
Fox, Lady Mary, 100
France, revolution in, 214
_Freischütz, Der_, 34
Gad’s Hill, 238
Galliera, Marchesa, 105
Garrick, David, his marriage, 69 —— Mrs, her début, 68; connection with Lord Burlington, 69; marriage, 69; death, 70
Genoa, 104; masquerade in, 107-112; fashion of head-dresses, 112
George III., his death, 30
George IV., his coronation, 37
Geppina, the flower-girl of Florence, 156; lines on, 156
Giardano, Michael, 137
Glastonbury Thorn, 54
Glenesk, Lady, 270_n_
Gloucester, Princess Mary, Duchess of, 153, 158
Gobarrow, wild park of, 94
Gordon, Alexander, 170_n_ —— Eleanor Vere, 170_n_, her marriage, 176; talent for drawing, 176; result of her works, 177 —— Lady Frederick, 100 —— Sir James, 23
“Gourley Ailsie,” 44
Gower, Hon. Frederick Leveson, 87
Grafton, Duke of, 179
Gray, Lady Mary de, 280_n_
Gregory XVI., Pope, his death, 191
Greville, Mr Charles and Lady Charlotte, 282_n_ —— Mr Henry, 227, 282; his reunions, 228
Grey, Countess de, 281 —— Earl de, 281
Greystoke Castle, Cumberland, 92
Grimston, Mrs Edward, 83
Grove, The, 269
Guernsey, island of, 170
Guidi, Casa, 217
Hackman, Captain, 275
Halifax, William, Marquis of, 68_n_
Hallé, Charles, 226
Hamilton, Elizabeth, Dow.-Duchess of, 246_n_ —— Lord, 282
Hampton Court, 31, 39; gardens, 42; number of visitors, 43; maze, 44; pictures, 45
Hanover, H.R.H. Princess Frederica of, 45
Harte, Bret, extract from his parodies, 213
Hastings, Florence, Lady, her marriage, 242 —— Marq. of, 280_n_
Havilland Hall, 170
Hayter, Sir George, 12 —— John, his sketch of Charles Boyle, 12
Higham Ferrers, 184
Hinchingbrooke, 272
Hogarth, Georgina, 231, 234
Hoggins, Sarah, 246_n_ —— Mr Thomas, 246_n_
Holland, Lady, 105 —— Henry Edward, Lord, 105, 201
Home, Sir Abraham, 280
Horner, John, 36
“Hotspur,” 150; his appearance on the stage, 151
Houghton, Lord, 242; at the _bal costumé_, 167
Howard, Charlotte, 93_n_ —— Henrietta Anna, 93_n_ —— Lady Henry, 93 —— Lord Henry, 92_n_ —— Isabella Catharine, 92_n_, 93_n_ —— Juliene, 93_n_ —— Miss, 34 —— Lady Rachel, 92_n_ —— Mr Stafford, 92_n_ —— Lord Thomas, the ghost of, 96
Hutin, Henri, 103
Illidge, her eccentricities, 66; appearance and dress, 66; story of Mrs Garrick, 67-70; adventure with a burglar, 70-72
Ippisley, Sir John, 51
Irving, Sir Henry, 35
Ischia, island of, 136
Italy, disturbances in, 221
Ives, John, his act of heroism, 46-48
Jakeman, Mr, 260
James, G. P. R., friendship for Mary Boyle, 152; for Landor, 262; character, 262
Jerrold, Douglas, 233, 237
Jones, Mr, 185
Jordan, Mrs, 100, 159
Joseph, of Arimathæa, legend of, 54
Kaulbach, 188
Kean, Mr and Mrs, their love story, 173
Keeley, Mr and Mrs, 34, 236
Kemble, Adelaide, 282_n_ —— Charles, 225_n_ —— Fanny, 98, 200
Kléber, Marshal, Governor of Cairo, 7; his treatment of Captain C. Boyle, 7; assassinated, 8
Lagerschwerd, Casa, 210
Lake, Sir Willoughby, 170
Landor, Walter Savage, 262; friendship with G. P. R. James, 262; his character, 262, 264; fondness for dogs, 263; inscription on the rescue of Caroline Boyle, 264; tone of his voice, 265
Lansdowne, Lord, 250; his collection of art treasures, 251 —— Henry, Marq. of, 252
Lathom, Countess of, 270_n_, 272_n_ —— Earl of, 270_n_
Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 246
Leech, John, 233
Lehmann, Mr, 239
Leigh, Colonel, 180
Leighton, Frederick, 226
Lemon, Mark, 233
Lennox, Lady Sophia, 246_n_
Leopold II., Grand Duke of Tuscany, his Civic grant, 216
Leslie, Lady Constance, 282_n_ —— Sir John, 282_n_
Lever, Charles, 35, 210; his entry into Florence, 211; tenant of Casa Standish, 211; his acting, 212
Lewis, Sir George Cornwall, 269 —— Lady Theresa, 270
Lima, River, 115
Limerick, Edmund Henry, Earl of, 146_n_
Lipona, Countess, 153
Lisle, Lady de, 100
Lister, Lady Theresa, 269_n_ —— Thomas Henry, 269_n_ —— Sir Villiers, 271
Loch, Lord, 270_n_ —— Lady, 270_n_
Long, Elizabeth, 93_n_
“Long George,” 17
Longleat, 53, 55
Lowe, 17
Lucca, baths of, 114; ball at, 118; religious festival, 120 —— Duchy of, 123 —— Duchess of, 119; lines on, 121 —— Duke of, 119
Lupus, taming of, 57
Lytton, Countess of, 270_n_ —— Sir E. Bulwer, letter to Mary Boyle, 232
Lyveden, Lord, 251_n_
Macdonald, Marshal, 153
MacDougall, Colonel, 176
Manny, Madame de, 220
Mansell, Henry, 76; peculiarities, 76; fondness for travelling, 76; talents, 77; death, 78
Manvers, Earl, 279
Maria Theresa, Empress, 68
Marlborough, Sarah, Duchess of, 255
Marston Bigot, 51
Masquerade, 107-112
Mayoress, Lady, anecdote of, 32
Mazzini, 112
McKenzie, Anne Hay, 65_n_
_Meander_, 10
Mells Park, 55
Melville, Whyte, 254
_Merry Monarch, The_, 227
Metastasio, lines from, 113
Michau, Madame, 85 —— M., anecdote of, 86
Midgham Cottage, 66; burglary at, 70-72 —— House, Berkshire, 4, 64
Milan, 224
Millard’s Hill, 163
Minto, Lord, 81
Mitchell, Dr, 102
Montagu, Sir Sydney, 273
Montague, Viscount, 57; drowned, 58
Montgomery, Alfred, 37, 41
Moore, General Sir Lorenzo, 4_n_, 205 —— Miss Zacyntha, 4_n_, 205; her marriage, 206
Mordaunt, Anna Maria, maid of honour to Queen Caroline, 64; her marriage, 64; appointed Governess to the Duke of Cumberland, 65
Morier, Miss, 83
Moulineaux, Villa des, 236
Mount Edgcumbe, Richard, Earl of, 147_n_
Munich, 187; dramatic performances at, 187
Murat, Joachim, 152; his portrait, 155; military weapons, 155
Napier, Sir William, 170; appearance and characteristics, 171; lines on, 172
Naples, 133; feast of Madonna dell’ Arco, 140
Napoleon I., 152; his portrait, 155
“Narcissus,” 164
Nelson, Lord, his letters, 6
Norfolk, Bernard, Duke of, 93_n_ —— Charles, Duke of, 92_n_
Normanby, Lord, 169
Northampton, Charles, 3rd Marq. of, 87; his marriage, 280 —— William, Marq. of, 87, 226_n_
O’Brien, Mr Stafford, 245
Oetting, Count Karl von, 191
Ogilvay, Sir John, 93_n_
Ogle, Miss Mary, 4_n_; her marriage, 158
Ogle, W. Wallace, 4_n_
Orleans dynasty, downfall, 214
Orper, 19
Orrery, Earl of, 51
Ossington, 278
Overbeck, 132
Oxford, Wilberforce, Bishop of, 278
“Pacolet,” 94
Paestum, 136
Paget, Lady Florence, 280 —— Lady Mary, 272_n_
Pallavicini, Marchese Fabio, 104, 190
Parma, Duchy of, 123
_Pearl_, The, 144
Pell, Sir Watkin, 23
Perry, Lady Lucy, 146_n_
Perugini, Kate, 236
Peterborough, Earl of, 64
Petty, Lord Henry, 250
Pierrepont, Rt. Hon. Henry, 246_n_
Pinelli, 132
Pipa, Comtesse, 204
Pisa, 145; festival of St Ranieri, 145
Pius IX., Pope, his accession, 191 popularity, 196; witty sayings, 196; the “Possesso,” 197-199
Play, the first, 25-29
Poggi, Miss, 84
Pompeii, 136
Ponsonby, Frederic, 256 —— Sir Henry, 256_n_
Portarlington, Earl of, 282_n_
Portland, Duke of, 278_n_
Posillippo, 135
Powder-Monkey Bay, 17
Power, 35
Poyntz, Carolina Amelia, 4 —— Charlotte Louisa, 56_n_ —— Elizabeth, 255 —— Georgiana Anne, 55 —— Isabella, 59 —— Stephen, 64 —— Mrs Stephen, appointed governess to the Duke of Cumberland, 65; intercedes for Lord Cromartie’s life, 65 —— William, 4, 55_n_, 56_n_, 245; loss of his sons, 59; character, 61; political views, 62; death, 163
Quarto, Villa, 204
Queensberry, Duchess of, 66
Quin, Captain, 259 —— Lord George, 229_n_, 230
Quorn Hounds, Master of the, 97
Race, one-legged, 23
Ravenna, 191; pine-forest, 192
Ray, Miss, her romantic story, 275; tragic death, 276
Reinhardt, 132
Reynolds, Samuel, his painting of Charles Boyle, 12
Richardson, Joseph, 78 —— Miss, 36, 78, 90
Roche-Jacquelin, Madame de la, 128
Rochester, Earl of, 273
Rockingham Castle, 230
Rolle, Lord, at the coronation of Queen Victoria, 161
Rome, 129, 194; first impression of, 130
Rosetta, 7
Rothesay, Lord Stuart de, 278_n_
_Rough Diamond, The_, 256
Royal Academy, 35
Ruberti, General, Commandant of Sant’ Elmo, 138
Ruffini, Giovanni, “Lorenzo Benoni,” 113
Russell, Lady Louisa, 90
Salcey Forest, 184
Salt-Hill, 170
_Saltarello_, dance, 195
Salviati, Villa, 205
Sandwich, Edward, 1st Earl of, 273; his character, 274 —— 3rd Earl of, 273 —— John, 4th Earl of, 274; anecdote of, 274; nickname, 275 —— George, 6th Earl of, 272 —— 7th Earl of, 272_n_; his second marriage, 278 —— Edward, 8th Earl of, 278_n_ —— Lady, her death, 278
Santley, Charles, 226
Sark, Island of, 174
Sartoris, Adelaide, 200, 225, 282
Sartoris, Mr Edward, 227, 282
Saville, Dorothy, 68_n_
Schaffhausen, Falls of, 58
Sefton, Lord, 271
Sevastopol, news of the taking, 276
Seymour, Frederick, 82 —— Sir Horace, 154
Seymour, Horace, 257
Sheerness, Dockyard, 15; members of the boats’ crew, 16; convicts, 17-19
Shelburne, Lord, 251
Shelley, Miss Fanny Lucy, 147 —— Sir John, 147_n_ —— lines from, 192
Sheridan, Charlie, 41 —— Frank, 37, 41 —— Thomas, 42_n_
Sherwood Forest, 278
Simons, Louisa, 243
Skelmersdale, Lord, 270
Smith, Rev. Loraine, 183 —— Admiral Sir Sidney, 9 —— Rev. William, 182
Smugglers, encounter with, 91
Somerset, Edward, Duke of, 42_n_ —— Georgina, Duchess of, 42 —— House, 30
Sondes, Lord, 229_n_, 230
Sorrento, 136
Southampton, Charles, Lord, 92_n_, 98, 179
Spencer, Earl, 213 —— Elizabeth, Countess, 11_n_ —— Hon. Frederic, 255; character, 255; death, 261 —— Lady Georgiana, 229_n_ —— John, 255 —— Lady, 82, 256, 257 —— Hon. Robert, 259 —— Sarah, 261
Stackpole, 165
Standish, Lady Lucy, 146; her theatre, 146; actors and actresses, 147-151 —— Mr Rowland, 146
Stanfield, Clarkson, his _chef-d’œuvres_, 251
Stanhope, Hon. Fitzroy, 92_n_ —— Harriet, 92_n_, 179_n_ —— Hon. Henry Fitzroy, 179_n_ —— Captain Robert, 92_n_
Stanley, Lord, 279
Stephenson, Rowland, 146_n_
Stewart-Mackenzie, Rt. Hon. James A 267_n_
Stone, Frank, 233 —— Marcus, 240
Stourhead, 54
Strafford, Alice, Countess of, 282_n_ —— Earl of, 227_n_
_Stranger, The_, 35
Stratford, Lady, 266
Stratford de Redcliffe, Lord, 265; appearance, 266; anecdote of, 266; lines on Mary Boyle, 266
Suffolk, Lady, 93 —— Lord, 92_n_, 93_n_
Sunderland, 3rd Earl of, 255
Sutherland, Duchess of, 65
_Tableaux Vivants_, 82, 256
Talbot, Countess of, 68
Talleyrand de Perigord, Marq., 150
Talmont, Princesse de, 128
Tavistock House, 235
Taylor, Tom, 251
Teck, Princess Mary Adelaide, Duchess of, at Hinchingbrooke, 276
Tegern, lake of, 191
Templeton, Viscountess of, 272
Tenby, 164
Tennyson, Lord, 140
Thackeray, W. M., “Onet y Oneth,” 213_n_
Thistle, 115
Thorpe, house-steward at Althorp, 257
Thorwaldsen, 131
Thrush, anecdote of a, 48-50
Thynne, Lord John, 40
“Tidy Dick,” 18
Tivoli, 133
Townshend, Lady John, 80 —— Lord John, 3, 55; his epitaph on Charlotte Boyle, 13; eccentricities, 80
Tree, Ellen, 173
Turin, 104
Tuscan revolution, 216
Ungher, Madame, 106
Urvins, his picture, 141
Vansittart, Mrs, 203, 205
Vernet, Horace, 131
Vernon, Hon. Gowran, 251
Vestris, Madame, 34
Vesuvius, eruptions of, 136
Victoria, Queen, 40, 160; reception at the Opera House, 161; coronation, 161; at the _bal costumé_, 166
Villiers, Rt. Hon. Charles Pelham, 269 —— Hon. Francis, 271_n_ —— Lieut.-Col. the Hon. George, 271_n_ —— Lady Theresa, 271_n_
Violette, Mdlle., her début at Drury Lane, 68
Vyner, Henry, 280_n_ —— Theodosia, her marriage, 280
Walpole, Horace, on Mdlle. Violette, 68
Ward, Baron, 123, 214 —— Miss, 92_n_
Waterford, Lady, 278
Watson, Mrs, 229, 231 —— Hon. Richard, 229_n_
Watts, George, his drawing of Charles Boyle, 12; painting of Sir William
Napier, 171; at the Villa Careggi, 202
Weedon, 78
Wellington, Duke of, 37, 161, 246_n_
Westbrook Hayes, 265
Westminster Abbey, 31
Whittlebury Lodge, 179
Wigan, Alfred, 227
Wigan Rectory, 56
William IV., his accession, 99; failing health, 158; attempt on his life, 159
Williams, Sir Thomas, 21
Willis, Annie, 168
Wolf-dog, taming a, 56
Wrest Park, 281
Yates, Edmund, 240
Young, Charles, 35, 166; his romantic story, 167 —— Giulia, 168 —— Julian, Chaplain to Hampton Court Palace, 168
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● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book. ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
End of Project Gutenberg's Mary Boyle--Her Book, by Mary Louisa Boyle