[Ill.u.s.tration: SIR RICHARD CARR GLYN, BT.]

Southampton, whence this letter was written, owed its fame, as Charles Stanhope explains subsequently, to the fact of its being then a resort for all persons who had been bitten by mad dogs. The salt water was supposed to a.s.sist in warding off an attack of hydrophobia, and doubtless many suffering from terror of this complaint were saved by such a belief. But the very circ.u.mstances which rendered the town popular, contributed to make it expensive, and Charles gives an ill.u.s.tration of this. Once, when his sister Frances was staying there, she required some slight medical attendance for a cold. "She sent," he mentions, "for Dr Middleton, who is a very gentle, insinuating old gentleman. He has been here three times since Tuesday, _three guineas a time_, so it is rather dear being ill in this place."

Curiously enough, this extravagant medical attendance was not infrequently called into requisition by the marvellous acting of Mrs Siddons, the wife of a former theatrical wig-maker. Her superb impersonation of the characters she represented stirred her audience to an extent which appears incredible, and the hysterical condition of Mrs Fitzhugh, described by Charles Stanhope, was a more common result of her genius than he seems to have been aware of. It is on record that she constantly made men weep and women faint by the realism of her performance; while in 1783, when the Royal Family went in state to see her play Isabella in the _Fatal Marriage_, so extraordinary was her genius that the actors who took part with her were completely over-mastered by their emotion, and even the stolid King, in his richly-decorated box, sobbed unrestrainedly in sight of all present, till Queen Charlotte, annoyed at such weakness, turned her back upon the stage and loudly declared that such a lifelike exhibition was "too disagreeable to look at." Off the stage, however, the personality of Mrs Siddons was transformed. A handsome woman, though of ponderous build, her conversation was singularly dull, and she spoke in a slow, sententious manner as though declaiming a set speech, which peculiarity gave rise to many ludicrous stories respecting her.

_Charles Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._ CHRIST CHURCH, _November 1812._

I have bought a beautiful little wax medallion of Lord Chesterfield in a frame which I wish I could show you.

I went out sky-larking with Elcho yesterday who asked much after you.

Mr Belli went up for his degree yesterday, and was excessively annoyed at the examining masters calling him Mr Belly of Christ Church, till Lloyd set them right. We had a terrible row on Monday. It was a general illumination here with a bonfire, etc. The Gownsmen gave the first provocation and we had a most desperate battle-royal. Several men were hurt and about to have been rusticated, among which is Lord Kintore, an ex-college n.o.bleman.

CANTLEY, _Undated._

Col. Anson [5] was here on Sat.u.r.day and I was surprised to see so unsmart a person turning out a-shooting from such a host of Dandies, so late in the day as two o'clock. He killed, however, more than had been killed by any individual hitherto, thirty-eight brace; but the keeper says he never saw a good shot shoot so abominably; he had two guns, and if he fired one off, he fired away one and a half lb. of powder. The keeper was knocked up in loading his gun and trotting after him.

I presented Lord Chesterfield with the medallion of his father that I bought at Cosway's sale, which was most thankfully received.

LONDON, _Thursday, February 4th, 1813._

Marianne and my Mother went to attend the Drawing Room, being the Queen's nominal Birthday. I then took a long walk, first to Tottenham Court Road to see the preparations for the Regent's Park, then to Bond St. and St James's St. to see the Equipages, etc. It seemed a very full Drawing Room and some magnificent Equipages, among which the d.u.c.h.ess of Montrose's was the finest. It consisted of 12 servants in most superb liveries, and three sedans, in one of which was the d.u.c.h.ess, and, in the two others, two of her daughters, Lady Charlotte and Lady Lucy, both very pretty. I returned home at a quarter to six, and my mother was not then come home. At last she arrived, complaining much of the intolerable squeeze which had never been surpa.s.sed but by the first Drawing Room after the King's recovery. Mrs Beaumont came to us in the evening.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._ _February 20th, 1813._

Mrs Beaumont has just presented Diana, who is, as you may believe, very happy. The sons have taken their Degrees.

Lord Kinnaird has contrived to get into such difficulties that his House, Pictures, and everything are to be sold. I went over the House yesterday and felt every step as if the ghost of his father could not fail to appear. There never was a fortune tumbled down in such a moment. The Pictures and Bronzes very fine. There is one of the best of t.i.tian's Pictures; but though fine, I do not think it is a pleasing collection.

I heard an amusing story the other day against Douglas Kinnaird. [6]

As you know, he is a wonderful linguist, but Werry, who is now secretary to Lord Cathcart, is yet finer. The latter boasts that he met Douglas at a dinner-party in London once, and, for a wager, entered the lists against him, and beat him in every language in Europe. But Werry admits that, in order to accomplish this, he never ceased talking from the moment he sat down till eleven o'clock at night! He says he felt--"_Si je crache, je perds!_"

I sent you a letter from Knox, he has dined here once, but he is now a very bad neighbour. The Ackloms are in Lower Grosvenor Street. Esther looks well, but is grown thin, the death of her father in a moment was a great shock to her. Everything was settled for her marriage, which is delayed till she is out of black gloves. I see a great deal of Mr Maddocks who has shown them great attention. It is said that she has 10,000 a year.

Esther Acklom had not been long in filling the place vacated by Mr Knox.

In 1813 she again became engaged, this time to Mr J. Maddocks, who was said to possess an income of 4,000 per annum. The same year, however, her father died suddenly, leaving her 10,000 a year and all his goods, while to his wife he left an annual income of 16,000. Miss Acklom, therefore, not only found herself a substantial heiress, but with the prospect of inheriting a yet larger fortune from her mother. A friend, Mrs Calvert, writing at this date, shrewdly remarks--"It is now supposed that Esther will jilt Mr Maddocks," but Mrs Stanhope does not seem to have antic.i.p.ated this result, when, on March 3rd, she wrote various items of news to her son:--

Walter Scott has published a new book called "Rokeby," dedicated to Mr Morritt. It is not so much admired as his others, though more than it was at first. His works are always the more admired the more they are read. Your old acquaintance, Mr Inglis, has b.a.l.l.s frequently, ending at Twelve. All Lord Kinnaird's pictures, wines, and house, are selling. His youngest brother has been at the point of death at Edinburgh, but is recovering.

I went in Mr Maddocks Tilbury [7] yesterday; (you see my love for a gig still continues). Esther says she would not have trusted herself with him. They are not to be married till she is out of black gloves.

But alas! for Mr Maddocks; ere the "black gloves" were discarded, Esther had fulfilled the prophecy of Mrs Calvert. She broke off her engagement; scrupulously, however, refunding to Mr Maddocks every penny which he had spent upon her. This second instance on her part of jilting a _fiance_ confirmed many people in the belief of her heartlessness; but the reason which probably determined her action on this latter occasion was that she had already met the one man, who, she recognised, could enchain her fickle affections for all time.

Meanwhile, on March 13th, Mrs Stanhope wrote to her son:--

We are all now in sable for the d.u.c.h.ess of Brunswick who was sister to the King and Mother to the Princess of Wales.

_April 19th._

Bonaparte seems to be making a great effort & I should hope the last, for the spirit of the Germans seems at length to be roused. I trust in G.o.d they will not be too eager to show their teeth before they can bite--to use an old proverb.

The Russians are a glorious people. Two Cossacks are now here, & they invite great curiosity. Yesterday being Sunday, thousands & thousands were in the Park to see one of them ride, and in Kensington Gardens they cheered him.

The winter of 1813 was one long to be remembered in England. Christmas day was exceptionally beautiful, fine and clear, but the day following a frost set in and continued without interruption till the month of April. All inland navigation ceased, and nearly all the song-birds perished. The Thames was frozen, and a great Fair was held upon it, when oxen were roasted, while on the Tweed there was an ice-fete at which fifty gentlemen sat down to dinner. When at last the frost broke, the country presented a curious and a wonderful sight; enormous ma.s.ses of ice acc.u.mulated and were carried down the river, while vessels which had been moored to the banks were lifted up bodily by the overwhelming force of the torrent and, later, left stranded far away in the neighbouring fields.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to Charles Spencer-Stanhope._ _February 28th, 1814._

We have had the most severe winter I ever remember--the whole Kingdom was rendered impa.s.sible from the deepness of the snow & the streets in London were in a state I never heard of their being in before.

I heard from your brothers from Ulm, etc. The country they had travelled through was beautiful, but the roads horrible; they were upset once. At Munich they saw the Crown Prince at a ball & at Stuttgart John waited upon the Queen of Wurtemburg who received him most graciously and inquired after us all. It is said that she is in a bad state of health & is coming to England.

At the Hague they dined with the Prince of Orange, the report is that in June he is to be married to the Princess Charlotte of Wales.

The Allies have met with some checks, notwithstanding it is said they are going on well.

The attention of the whole civilised world was centred on the events happening in France. In March came intelligence of the victory of the Allies which enabled them to occupy Paris. "I shall never forget," writes Charles Stanhope, "the sensation it made in London. For a week past we hardly understood the operations of the armies, when at last despatches were received from the height of Montmartre. Everyone seemed drunk with the news." This was followed by that of the abdication of Napoleon on April 5th, 1814. All Europe went mad with joy, and, within a month, Louis XVIII. had entered his capital as King. In the June following it was arranged that the Allies should visit England, but while preparations for the consequent rejoicings were in progress, Mrs Stanhope and her family attended a festivity which they regarded with almost greater interest.

At the date at which Esther Acklom had jilted Mr Maddocks, she had been introduced to Lord Althorp [8] the eldest son of Earl Spencer, who had at once attracted her. Known for so long to his friends and fellow politicians as "Honest Jack" he was possessed of as marked an individuality as her own. Although unable to lay claim either to good looks, depth of knowledge, or polish of manners, yet the charm of his personality, his unalterable amiability, and the curious fascination of the smile which readily suffused his countenance, exercised an irresistible attraction upon all who came within his influence. In his public life, indeed, what genius might have failed to accomplish in his favour, the profound sincerity of his character amply achieved. Other men might be noted for tricks of State-craft--for impa.s.sioned oratory, for shrewd Diplomacy, for powers of organisation; to Jack Althorp alone was it given to owe his fame primarily to unswerving uprightness and the moral rect.i.tude which was reverenced alike by friends and foes.

Not only accuracy to a penny in accounts committed to his charge, but absolute sincerity in the small things of life, as in the great, amounted to a mania with him. Occasionally, for instance, someone might remark casually to him that the day was fine, and the result of this unconsidered plat.i.tude was calculated to provoke a smile. For before risking a possibly untruthful a.s.sent, Honest Jack would turn to the window and reflectively scan the heavens, then, after consideration, would deliver himself of a cautious verdict. "Well," he would p.r.o.nounce guardedly, "I don't know that you can actually say that it is a fine day, because you see that it is early yet, and there are clouds about; but it is a pleasant morning and I hope will prove a fine day." And the supreme simplicity of the rejoinder, coupled with the complete unconsciousness of the speaker that there was anything unusual in his att.i.tude, at once erased any savour of sententiousness.

It was to such a man that fickle, wayward Esther gave her heart, only to find that, slow of perception and indifferent to her charm, Honest Jack did not return her love. But the girl who had remained undaunted by the stern Marshal of Napoleon was not to be thwarted in this, the dearest wish of her life. Her habitual determination came to her aid. Since Jack Althorp would not propose to her, she proposed to him; and such an unusual proceeding was fraught with happy consequences, for, on April 14th, 1814, she became his wife, and entered upon a union of unmixed happiness for both.

"She was the one woman with whom I never felt shy," explained Lord Althorp, with some reason; and it may be added, that his devotion after marriage amply compensated for his lack of ardour before. For her sake he settled down in the old home of her ancestors, Wiseton Hall, and expended; 10,000 in making the unprepossessing house habitable; every wish and whim of hers he lived but to gratify, and so complete was his confidence in her, that during his absence she was deputed to read all his letters, at her judgment destroying what was unimportant or reserving what required attention. "It would not do for ladies to write him love letters!" she used to remark laughingly.

Her former friends, the Stanhopes, often stayed with her at Wiseton subsequent to her marriage, and rejoiced to see her happiness; but its untimely ending, which greatly distressed them, may be related here.

On June 11th, 1818, Lady Althorp, after much suffering, gave birth to a still-born son, and two days later, after a period of delirium, she expired. It was supposed that the fate of Princess Charlotte, who had died under similar circ.u.mstances in the previous November, had weighed upon her mind, and claimed her as yet another of the many victims whose fate was influenced by that of the unfortunate Princess. However that may be, her husband, who had attended her devotedly to the last, was inconsolable at her loss. "When he had deposited her remains in their last resting-place,"

relates his biographer, "he seemed as if left without an object on earth.

Shrinking even from the affectionate attentions of his family, he went at once to Wiseton, where he pa.s.sed several months in complete retirement ...

his grief was too deeply seated to be otherwise than lasting; and for many years its poignancy remained unabated."

To one person only did he turn in his bitter grief--to the mother of his dead wife; an unprepossessing woman, who had never shown him any kindness, but who now became to him the first object of his care, out of the love which he had borne her daughter. He wrote to Mrs Acklom every day, showed her the utmost attention, and exhibited for her the most devoted affection, which she, ere long, returned. Meanwhile, the rooms that had been occupied by the wife he had so loved were never altered from the day when she left him; upon his finger he always wore her ring, and wherever he went he took with him the pillow upon which her head had last rested.

Long, however, ere this sad ending to a happy romance, during the summer which followed the marriage of Lady Althorp, the Allies visited London amid frantic demonstrations of rejoicing from the people who, too prematurely, concluded that the final downfall of Bonaparte was at last accomplished.