Chapter VII: Letters From England and France (1)

1811-1821

Throughout the period when John Stanhope was experiencing so many and varied adventures abroad, life in the home which he had left flowed on with less of note to mark the flight of time. But at the very date when he had been enduring the miseries of a prolonged detention in France, the former companion of his travels, Tom Knox, had been undergoing a misadventure of a different type, in which the family in Grosvenor Square took a peculiar interest. His first action on arriving in London had been to hasten to see Mrs Stanhope in order to take her the latest news of her son. Dining with her on this occasion he made the acquaintance of Miss Acklom. The young lady exhibited a great interest in the traveller, of whose adventures she had heard repeatedly from her friends, the Stanhopes, and he finding her a sympathetic listener, the mutual attraction rapidly increased, with the result that, at a concert at Lady Jersey's in June, 1811, he proposed to her, and was accepted. The engagement, however, was not a happy one. Mr Acklom demanded far larger settlements than Mr Knox was in a position to agree to; and in December of the same year all idea of the marriage was abandoned. Tom Knox returned to Miss Acklom her picture which she had bestowed upon him, and she sent back to him the portrait and presents which he had given her; while neither of them appear to have regretted regaining their freedom.

Full particulars of this episode in his friend's life were dispatched to John Stanhope at Verdun; indeed, no sooner had Mrs Stanhope at last ascertained the fate of her absent son than she and her family strove diligently to lighten his exile by any available relays of news from his native land. And in strange contrast to the adventures of the young _détenu_ must have seemed those letters which reached him, descriptive of that far-away family life in England, and conjuring up pictures of the home and the faces which he might never see again.

_Mrs Spencer Stanhope to John Spencer Stanhope._
1812.

Your sisters are all well. They are, as usual, very busy acquiring
knowledge. They are learning Spanish, Italian, French & German, also
the harp and the flute. At this moment Marianne is studying Euclid,
Anne & Frances are at the Pianoforte, Isabella is drawing & Maria is
occupied with her French.

Hugh grows very stout & bold; Isabella, I never saw better, Frances is
a prodigiously tall girl & very clever. Maria is always the same good-
natured little Fairy.

From Cannon Hall Marianne wrote later:--

The Drawing-room and the Brown Room look beautiful in their new state,
and you cannot think how elegant all our company appear at this
important moment. Anne and the gay Cupid [Philip Stanhope] are
enjoying all the agonies of a game of chess. The Glyns [1] are staying
with us, and Tom [2] is fitting himself for Prime Minister by
assiduously studying the papers. Lady Glyn and Mamma are enjoying a
light supper; Sir Dicky puts in notes of interrogation and comments
upon the passing scene with great effect. Papa is grunting, groaning
and snoring in the library--the result of twenty brace of moor-grouse.
The younger members of the family are, I suppose, enjoying delicious
slumbers at Westminster, for the clock has just struck eleven, and I
must to bed!

From Southampton, then a fashionable and gay resort, where he was staying with a private tutor, Charles Stanhope likewise wrote to his distant brother.

SOUTHAMPTON, _November 5th, 1812._

I dined the other day with the Fitzhughs who live near here, and was
much disappointed at not meeting Mrs Siddons who is always with them.
She is not liked by the people about here, she is so very
_graciosissima pomposissima_. If she goes to any party she
immediately usurps the sofa, monopolising it most infamously with her
most corpulent latitude; and to those people who conceive themselves
most her intimates, she bows like a Queen, with a slight inclination
from her shoulders, never deigning to move from her seat, nor even in
the slightest degree to bend her formal body. This, of course, cannot
but disgust, tho' Mrs Fitzhugh doats on her. [3] When she acted here
Mrs F. waited on her as a maid, and when she came off the stage, after
having died most naturally, Mrs F. begged her to go to bed, and was
worked up to hystericks wanting repeated assurances that she was not
in _reality_ dead. Was there ever anything so absurd or foolish?

I was at Gaunts, Sir Dicky Carr Glyn's. It is a pretty place and a
well-arranged house in the inside, but the exterior is completely _à
la Citoyen_. A square, formal house with an inclined, slated roof.

I was amused at Sir D.'s upholding his prerogative. Lady Glyn was for
folding doors from the drawing-room to the library. Sir D. was against
them. The argument ran high. Sir D. then said, "Well, _my dear_,
you may have your folding doors and your new fashions, but let me have
the old. None of your new, flimsy introductions for me, I _will_
still be the old, worthy Alderman & English Gentleman!" Thought I--
_Bravo Sir Dicky!_

Encouraged by his own eloquence, he further insisted on his point,
_and now, lo! there are big folding doors with a single small door
close to them!_

It strikes a person unacquainted with the circumstances as though
Dicky, with true Aldermanic foresight, intending to enlarge his paunch
with Turtle, etc., etc., etc., and conceiving that he would soon be
incapable of passing thro' the narrow door, had thus provided for his
increase of latitude.

It puts me in mind of an epigram by Jekyll. [4] A canal was cut here
at great expense (at the time when everybody was embarking their
fortunes in that kind of speculation); it ran parallel with the great
river. Everybody contributed to it, and bought shares in it. They did
not perceive the folly of the undertaking till the Canal was finished.
In short, it was never used, and everybody was bitten. The epigram ran
thus:--

Southampton's wise sons thought their river so large
Tho' 'twould carry a ship, 'twould not carry a barge;
So they wisely determined to cut by its side
A stinking canal where small vessels might glide;
Like the man who contriving a hole in his wall,
To admit his two cats, one great and one small,
When a great hole was cut for the first to go through
Would a little hole have for the little cat too! */

I have learnt to take snuff among other fashionable acquirements, a
custom which, of course, you have learnt and will be able to keep me
in countenance....

I must tell you an anecdote of Philip which I think will amuse you. At
one of the Levées being left alone--(that is a bull tho')--with the
Prince, the Duke of York and Lord Yarmouth, they wished to have some
fun with him, and among other things asked him how he liked being at
Court. But he, not being yet used to address Royalty, was at a loss in
the selection of his words, till at last two very applicable terms
presented themselves to him. But then he was again at a loss which was
the most _genteelerest_. Finally he decided in favour of both--
_Toll-Loll_ and _Pretty Bobbish_, and so replied to the Royal
inquiry--of course it set them in a roar!

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 assist 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 circumstances which rendered the town popular, contributed to make it expensive, and Charles gives an illustration 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 nobleman.

CANTLEY, _Undated._

Col. Anson [5] was here on Saturday 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
Duchess of Montrose's was the finest. It consisted of 12 servants in
most superb liveries, and three sedans, in one of which was the
Duchess, 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 surpassed 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 Titian'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 anticipated 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 balls 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 _fiancé_ 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 Duchess 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
God 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-fête at which fifty gentlemen sat down to dinner. When at last the frost broke, the country presented a curious and a wonderful sight; enormous masses of ice accumulated 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 impassible 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 impassioned 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 rectitude 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 platitude was calculated to provoke a smile. For before risking a possibly untruthful assent, 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 pronounce 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 attitude, 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 circumstances 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 passed 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.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to Charles Spencer-Stanhope._
GROSVENOR SQUARE, _May 25th, 1814._

Next month is Philip's month of waiting, when he will probably have
much gaiety, and from having to attend the Regent will see the Allied
Sovereigns to advantage--they have been expected some time, but it is
now said will not arrive till the middle of next month, when Fêtes and
various gaieties are expected. The Prince of Orange and Prince Paul of
Wurtemburg are here.

Lady Collingwood has let her house in Town and stays at Newcastle with
her father, who is very aged. I noticed that it was William's old ship
which conveyed Bonaparte to his new Government, where I should think
he must feel very odd. I cannot help wishing he had been removed to a
greater distance, as I doubt not he will still try to do mischief, for
he has an able, active, and wicked mind. What changes have taken place
within the last three months! They appear to me like a dream.

Tom Knox is come home. He says had not John been in such haste to get
on he would have gone on with him.

So full was London that it was impossible to find accommodation for all the distinguished visitors, and the Stanhopes' friend, Lord James Murray, put his house in Great Cumberland Place at the disposal of Count Platoff, and twelve attendant Cossacks. The latter now became a familiar sight and ceased to create a sensation when they rode abroad; indeed, shortly, their departure was eagerly looked forward to, so uncivilised was their behaviour.

In Lord James's house they refused to use the sumptuous bedrooms prepared for them, but preferred to sleep herded together in the hall or on the staircase, while the damage which they did was incalculable.

_June 8th, 1814._

Philip is now at home, as this is his month of waiting, which is
fortunate for him, as he will have an opportunity of seeing well all
the great people now here. London was yesterday like a fair, for the
Emperor of Russia and King of Prussia arrived and every house from
Hyde Park Corner to Westminster Bridge was as full as possible, the
windows crowded, the streets stopped with carriages, the Park and
streets full of foot people, and all the Kent Road the same, who were
every one disappointed--as the great people came incog., and no one
knew when they arrived. The Emperor, however, showed himself at the
Balcony and was much cheered.

When Blucher went to Carlton House the Mob broke in, and the Prime
Minister invested him with the Garter in the midst of them all, which
pleased John Bull much, for I believe they think more of the General
than of the Emperor.

Philip rides every day in St James's Park; at nine, he goes to the
stables at Carlton House and there he finds a riding-master--a very
pleasant part of his duty riding is. Great Fêtes are talked of, but
there seems a doubt whether the Emperor will stay for them, as he
means to travel and see the country.

From Oxford, Charles Stanhope wrote:--

The Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia and his sons, Blucher,
Platoff, the Prince of Wurtemburg and an infinitude of great men who
have flocked to this country, about the middle of the summer term
accompanied the Prince Regent to Oxford where they were received and
fêted in the most magnificent style.

The scene in the theatre was particularly fine, the Prince Regent
enthroned with the Emperor of Russia on his right and the King of
Prussia on his left. The Heroes of the War receiving the encomiums of
the peaceful Sons of Science! Blucher seemed particularly happy. A
most magnificent entertainment was provided for them at the Radcliffe
Library, where old Blucher got hopelessly tipsy, and was found
afterwards strolling about the College by himself, totally incapable
of finding his way back to his lodgings!

I must explain that he was lodged at the Sub-Dean's in Ch. Ch., and
tho' a Royal carriage was sent to convey him to the Radcliffe, he
preferred walking, escorted by the Gown, for one of which bodyguard I
volunteered myself.

The third day the Emperor and King of Prussia quitted the University,
but the Prince Regent and Blucher remained and dined in Ch. Ch. Hall.
I must recount an anecdote of the Prince whose peculiar grace and
elegance of manner shone in its best lustre during the whole visit.
Blucher's health being drunk, he returned thanks in German, but
addressed himself rather to the Prince than to the University or Ch.
Ch. in particular. The Prince, perceiving the indecorum of this, at
once rose and announced that so excellent a speech should not be lost
upon the greater part of the company, who could not be expected to
understand German, and that, therefore, in the absence of a better
interpreter, he would volunteer for that office himself, however
incompetent he might be. He then delivered an extremely neat and
tactful address of thanks to the University and especially to that
College where Blucher and himself had been so hospitably entertained.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope._
GROSVENOR SQUARE, _June 20th, 1814._

This is a day of bustle and confusion in London, as it is the last
day the Emperor remains here.

Philip, at eight, set off for Carlton House in his uniform, as he is
to attend the Regent to a Review in Hyde Park at ten, at which hour we
go to Mr Macdonald's to see it. Afterwards he will attend the Prince
to the House of Lords, and at Night to a great Ball which the Members
of White's Club give to the Royals. To-morrow they all go to
Portsmouth where a Naval Review is expected, tho' it has been said
that it cannot take place owing to many of the Ships having been sent
for the Russian troops which are to pass thro' this country on their
way home. From Portsmouth the Emperor and the Duchess of Oldenburg go
away. The King of Prussia I understand remains some time longer.

Ever since the Crowned Heads arrived, London has been mad, & as full
again as ever I knew it. Where all the people are lodged I cannot
imagine. The streets are full day and night watching the Royals, who
see everything and therefore are always upon the move.

The King of Prussia walked quietly into St George's Church yesterday
and asked for the Duke of Devonshire's pew. They have all been at
Oxford where the Prince was with them and was received with great
applause.

Since I began my letter I have been some hours at Mrs Macdonald's to
see a Review in the Park where the Regent and the Crowned Heads
attended. The day is beautiful and the scene was very fine, for there
were thousands of spectators on foot, as horses and carriages were not
admitted into the Park. I was not near enough to distinguish Philip &
he has not yet returned....

I have been interrupted again. Philip is to go with the Prince to-
morrow to Portsmouth which he likes the idea of extremely. He has been
much entertained with the duty of to-day....

After all, the Regent did not go to the House of Lords and the Emperor
does not leave London to-day, therefore Philip will have a little rest
after the fatigues of yesterday, for he did not get home from the ball
till between five and six, and is now asleep.

To console London for the termination of such a round of dissipation, on July 1st White's Club gave a magnificent masquerade at Burlington House in honour of the Duke of Wellington, to which the Stanhopes went with their friends, the Kinnairds. Nearly two thousand persons were accommodated in the temporary room which was erected for supper, and the costumes were remarkable for their magnificence, save possibly that of Byron, who was clad, sombrely but effectively, in the dark flowing robes of a monk. A guest of gayer, if less dignified appearance, was Sir Lumley Skeffington, who, as usual, encountered the ill-fortune which seemed to dog his footsteps, for his red Guard's coat was mischievously torn from his shoulders by crazy Lady Caroline Lamb. [9] who hid it and left the discomforted beau in his waistcoat in the centre of the ballroom.

Eight months after these festivities, news arrived in London that on March 1st, 1815, Napoleon had once more landed in France, followed by the intelligence that on March 20th he had entered Paris. In June the Campaign of Waterloo began by the defeat of Blucher at Ligny, where John Stanhope had so long resided. But on the 18th of the same month, "The fops of Piccadilly became the heroes of Waterloo," and that famous victory decided for all time the fate of the Conqueror of Europe. Four days later he again abdicated, and on July 15th he surrendered himself to the English.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
_July 28th._

What great and surprising events have happened in little more than a
month. The Battle of Waterloo was one of the bravest & greatest ever
fought, & has decided the fate of Europe, therefore though we must
lament the many gallant men who fell on that dreadful day, yet not a
life was lost in vain, & when we consider what the blood would have
been had the Campaign continued, we must look upon the loss as small.

The surrender of Bonaparte is such an unexpected event, that I can
scarcely yet credit it, for I never supposed he would have lived to
have become a Prisoner. What will be done with him? Thank Heaven we
can now confidently look forward to Peace.

Private events, however, distracted the attention and gave employment to the pen of Mrs Stanhope during the year which followed. The health of her husband was gradually declining. He was under the necessity of renouncing his seat in Parliament, where he had respectively represented Haslemere, Carlisle and Hull during a space of nearly forty years. Deprived of the work which for so long a period had completely absorbed his thoughts and energies, his spirits flagged. The vivacity, the wit for which he had been noted deserted him and he sank gradually into a mental lethargy which, as his malady increased, at times almost amounted to torpor, but alternated with a restlessness and irritation of the nerves very distressing to witness. In order to divert his attention from the life with which he could no longer mingle, it was decided that novelty of scene might have a beneficial result. His family therefore proceeded to travel, but that the liveliness of his daughters was undiminished and their taste for society as keen, appears by a letter written by Marianne from Tunbridge Wells to her brother John in Yorkshire.

TUNBRIDGE WELLS, _October 2nd, 1816._

We do not think that your Doncaster Belles sounded very captivating. I
think I could have shown you at one glance a better show on the
Pantiles yesterday--the beauties who turned out with a bright gleam
after a horrid morning. To begin with the greatest, Miss Eden looked
magnificent, and is pronounced very agreeable. With her was Lord
Auckland's sister, extremely pretty and elegant, quite a _Lucile_,
then Miss Bruce, smart, with well made boots, and Miss Anstruther who,
perhaps, would be least thought of and attract the most. After leaving
there I met the Douglases--Miss D. looking as if her blood did not
circulate and Caroline as if she wished to be civil but found it
inconvenient....

Should you have to write to Murray, tell him to send to Grosvenor
Square the second part of "Childe Harold," and also the new novel by
the "Author of Waverley."

In the ensuing year Frances Stanhope was taken to Court by her mother. Tall, graceful, and with a dazzling complexion, her beauty was singularly striking, and she used to relate that when she was presented to the Regent, H.R.H., who always distinguished between the pretty débutantes and the plain, graciously honoured her by bestowing upon her two resounding kisses on each cheek. Not long after this auspicious entry into society, however, her mother decided that a couple of years spent on the Continent might be equally advantageous to the health of Walter Stanhope and to the education of his children. The family therefore migrated to Paris, where everything at this date was in a curious state of transition. With Napoleon far away at St Helena, Louis XVIII. was firmly established on the Throne of his ancestors, and France was endeavouring to recover something of her pristine gaiety. Sir Charles Stuart was now Ambassador at the French Court; many English were in Paris, and like a fresh act of a Play wherein the various _dramatis personae_, moved by a common impulse, translate themselves _en masse_ to a fresh locality, so the Stanhopes appear, in the midst of their new surroundings, to have found themselves encircled by their former friends.

_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
35 RUE DE LA MADELEINE, _February 7th, 1818._

I will not lose the opportunity of sending you a letter by Lady
Crompton, who goes to England in two days.

Mrs Beaumont, her two daughters and Wentworth are here, very grand and
gay, talking of giving two grand balls; she is of course the _first_
everywhere.

Mamma, Frances, Isabella and Edward were at Sir C. Stuart's Costume
Ball, which was a most beautiful sight, and the whole thing went off
with great éclat. Frances went as a _Paysanne de Mola_, near Naples;
her dress was a short petticoat, trimmed with green and gold, a green
apron, and black, green and gold bodice, and a roll of the same
colours round her head. It was very becoming to her and she looked
very grand. In Paris she is known everywhere as _la belle Anglaise_.
Isabella was a most airy Coquette, in blue and silver, with a cap of
little bells on one side, and long tresses of hair plaited with blue--
she really looked beautiful. It is the dress of _Belle et Bonne_ in
some Play. Mamma and Edward were both in blue dominoes.

Last night we were at an enormous ball at M. Clarmont's, one of
Lafitte's houses; the heat exceeded anything I ever felt. It was said
1200 people were asked, of all kinds and degrees. It was very
disagreeable.

Mamma is thinking of giving a dance and is at the moment writing the
invitations, but the day is not yet fixed.

The Duke of Wellington gives a Concert to-night, and it is said two
costume balls. Yesterday we had some of the fooleries of the Carnival
which the weather prevented on Sunday and Monday. Masks paraded the
streets, the windows were full of heads, and all the people from one
end of Paris to the other drawn in procession along the Boulevards and
the Rue St Honoré.

PARIS, _March 31st, 1818._

I hear nothing of the man taken up for shooting at the Duke, if it is
true that one has been secured. Poor Bacon was taken up by 5 Gens
d'Arms at nine in the morning and after a secret examination sent to
the Conciergerie. It was conjectured he was concerned with a Banker
who went off--but instead of that being true, the Banker absconded
with all _his_ money! Sir C. Stuart means to make a fuss about
it, for no one is safe if taken up and confined only on suspicion.

The King on one of the most stormy days we have had took three people
out to prevent their voting for the Recruiting Bill. However, they
contrived to get back in time, by which means it was carried by four.
He was angry--they said they did it as a point of duty to him.

Lady Mansfield's Ball was fine--but too many women in proportion to
the men, and many of the latter old. A great many French. I only saw
one Lady out of each family. Many, many young ladies sat out. All the
_ton_ French ladies danced the whole night. Lady M. hoped she should
see you, tho' she forgot to invite you.

Lord Alvanley came to Paris a few days ago with his mistress. They
refused him admittance at the _Hôtel de Londres_, saying they had
English families there, among others "the great Mrs Beaumont." He
coolly replied that they need not mind _her_, for her fortune had
been made by keeping a house of bad character; and so he got in! Did
you ever hear of such _scandalous impudence_!

On behalf of Lord Alvanley, however, it may be added that about this date another story got abroad respecting him which redounds more to his credit. He and Lord Kinnaird were playing whist one evening, when, owing to some mistaken move in the game on the part of Lord Alvanley, Lord Kinnaird completely lost his self-control and abused his friend in the most violent manner. Lord Alvanley listened in silence to the torrent of denunciation, then, rising from the card table, observed very quietly, "Not being blessed with your Lordship's angelic temper, I shall retire for fear of losing mine!"

Moreover, Marianne Stanhope, about the same time, makes mention of an instance of Lord Alvanley's good-nature which came under her notice. It appears that one of his greatest friends was an Irish dandy who, for long, went by the nickname of "King Allen" on account of his having achieved a unique position in the world of fashion. This monarch of the _beau monde_ spent his days, as did others of his class, exhibiting his faultless clothes in fashionable resorts; and so wedded was he to this existence that he could seldom be persuaded to quit London even for the benefit of his health.

Once, however, Lord Alvanley found his friend moping at the sea-side, a prey to profound depression, and spending sleepless nights tossing on his couch, unable to account to his own satisfaction either for his insomnia or his melancholia. With the intuition of a kindred soul Lord Alvanley at once probed the root of the dandy's complaint. He recognised that it was impossible for such a man to exist apart from the bustle and noise of the great city to which he was accustomed, and _faute de mieux_, Lord Alvanley invented a remedy. At his own expense, he engaged a hackney coachman who undertook to rattle his vehicle up and down past King Allen's lodgings till the early dawn, and another man who agreed to shout the hours throughout the night in the strident tones of a London watchman. The ruse was successful. Whether other persons living in the neighbourhood were equally pleased, history does not relate, but the melancholy dandy, deluded into a belief that he was back once more in his favourite haunts, slumbered peacefully, and was in time restored in perfect health to the scenes of his former triumph.

Indeed, "Lord Alvanley," wrote Lady Granville at a later date, "was quite charming. _Le meilleur enfant_, which does not mean _homme_, but I cannot persuade myself that he is much altered and that he will end by being a very good, as he is a most captivating, person. Such cleverness, _si fin, si simple_, without one grain of effort. What a receipt for being, as he is, quite charming!"

Moreover, if the tale be true of the affront which he is said to have offered to Mrs Beaumont, the great lady had manifold compensations. Mrs Stanhope relates:--

The Prince de Bauffremont [10] proposed _à la française_ to Mrs
Beaumont for one of her daughters, but she, not understanding the
style, took it to herself, and answered with great dignity that she
was extremely sorry she was not in a situation to be able to accept
it!

While in Paris, the Stanhopes had a sad encounter with a former friend, which was curiously typical of existence in the gay city at that date. When Charles Stanhope was at Southampton he had there made the acquaintance of a charming old bachelor, Mr Hibbert. The latter showed him many kindnesses, and, in return, was invited to Cannon Hall for some shooting. John Stanhope records his subsequent history thus:--

"Poor Mr Hibbert! his was indeed a melancholy history. He lived near Southampton, an old bachelor, and then as happy a specimen of that race as I ever saw. He had been a very handsome man, but had unfortunately been bent almost double by a rheumatic fever; however, his face was still striking. He was full of taste and accomplishments, and apparently very well informed, clever and agreeable in society. He was not rich, but evidently possessed fortune enough to supply him with all the luxuries that in his single state he could require. When he visited Cannon Hall he was travelling in a very agreeable manner in his curricle with his own horses, the whole _bien monté_.

"Unfortunately he went to Paris when the Peace was signed, and he, who had never touched a card when in England, was persuaded to go to the Salon. He could not refrain from trying his luck, and from that moment he was never absent from the Salon when its dangerous doors were open. He was driven away from Paris by Napoleon's return; he went back there after the _cent jours_ and lost every farthing that he possessed, ending his life as a miserable pensioner in the establishment--I believe within its walls."

Mr Hibbert's fate was indeed all too common at that date amongst those who once entered the dangerous doors of the _Salon des Étrangers_. This was an institution established for confirmed gamblers, and was kept by the celebrated Marquis de Livry, whose resemblance to the Regent was so remarkable that the latter sent Lord Fife over to Paris to ascertain if it could be so striking as report asserted. The Marquis did the honours of his club with a grace and courtesy for which he became renowned in Europe. He provided his clients with the most perfect cuisine and every possible luxury, while, on Sunday, those who had been most regular in their attendance, were rewarded by an invitation to his Villa near Paris, where ladies from the opera were welcomed to meet them, and the society was of the most doubtful description.

None, indeed, who found their way to the Salon issued thence unscathed, and its existence coloured the whole of Parisian society of that day. Fortunes were there staked and lost, many of the victims disappearing mysteriously, some having committed suicide, others, like Mr Hibbert, having become so deeply involved in debt that they could not leave the premises. Lord Thanet, for one, lost there a fortune of £50,000 a year, of which £120,000 was expended in a single night. When remonstrated with on his folly, and the probability pointed out to him that he had been cheated, he only exclaimed with the recklessness born of the fatal atmosphere of the place, "Well, I consider myself fortunate in not having lost twice that sum!"

Meanwhile Marianne and her sisters were observing the difference between the dandies of Almack's, whom they had deserted, and the beaux of French society with whom they were now to mingle. Later their conclusions were given to the world:--

Striking indeed is the difference between a true John Bull and a
Continentalist in a ball-room. The first generally looks as if he
could not help himself; he has adjourned to Almack's from the House of
Lords, the House of Commons, or the Inns of Court; and business, with
sad recollection, still pursues him at every step.... What excitation
then will move his apathy? Why, that of vanity alone; a pretty woman
must make love to him. And this is the best explanation that can be
given why, in England, the women always make the first advances to the
men; and if they did not, there would, I believe, be no love at all in
the fashionable world.

But mark the Continentalist! how is he armed for conquest when he
enters the ball-room?....

So accomplished a creature, so bewitching and bewitched must of course
consider himself quite irresistible. Yet have all these
Continentalists, and particularly the sons of France, the air of
annihilating themselves before the fair; their obsequiousness and
humility are unbounded: hence their rapid execution among the female
sex. To be herself admired by an all-conquering Adonis, is so much
more pleasing to a gay young woman than the having only to admire him.

Such is the difference between a French and an English dandy: the
first is an impertinent, affected coxcomb, who makes love to every
woman as a matter of course--it is his vocation. The second is a cold,
contemptuous, conceited creature, intrenched in a double armour of
selfishness, blasé upon everything. [11]

Despite this scathing criticism, the Stanhopes do not appear to have lacked amusement in their new surroundings.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope_.
35 RUE DE LA MADELEINE., _Sunday, April 5th, 1818._

Little has occurred since I wrote to you last week except the Duke of
Wellington's delightful and superb ball. We may consider ourselves
fortunate in being invited, as the list was his own and he would not
allow the _aide-de-camps_ to interfere. Isabella, Frances, and
myself arrived about eleven. The rooms were then full, and soon after
arrived the Royal Family. The Duchess de Berri danced, but they all
went away about twelve, as did numbers of the French. Everybody
_sat_ at supper, several rooms were open--round tables in all. The
Duke retired soon after supper, and left Col. Fremantle to do the
honours, which he did, first by doubling the champagne, then by making
the ball go with spirit. We stayed till the last and did not get home
till five. He sent permission to as many of the Officers as liked to
come from Cambrai, and they readily obeyed the Command. I believe
there were 300 of the Guards, almost everybody in uniform. Markham
looked very antique in a full dressed brown coat.

We were at a ball at Lady Mansfield's on Tuesday, a very fine ball,
all the _ton_ French, but that did not make it gay. She had a fine
sitting supper. I am sorry the English suppers are coming into fashion
here.

Madame de Chabaunes had a French dance on Friday, plenty of dancing
men, tho' we were at home before twelve.

Last night we heard Catalani, finer than ever; she goes soon, never to
sing at the Opera again. [12] She was more superb in diamonds at the
Duke's than anybody.

Mrs Beaumont goes on Saturday. She will astonish the weak minds of the
English by an account of her triumphs in Paris. She desires we will
contradict the report of her daughters' marriages; she takes them
back, instead of leaving them Duchesses and Princesses!

_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope._
35 RUE DE LA MADELEINE, _Sunday, April 5th._

I will not lose the opportunity, my dear John, of sending you a few
lines by Mr Hunter, who called this morning to tell us of his
departure.

For the last ten days we have had complete March weather, a hot sun
and very cold wind. We are just returned from a dusting in the _Bois
de Boulogne_, where all the _beau monde_ were assembled. Lord
Burghersh escorting Lady Aldborough, who is going to England, Lady B.
in _the Duke's_ carriage. Mrs Beaumont and family, marvellous to
relate, in a very shabby carriage. The girls are heart-broken at
leaving Paris; "Madame" informed us she had had various offers, both
for them and Wentworth, but so far neither Prince T. de B., nor E. de
Beauvais. The former was engaged "to a fine French young lady," but as
he was coming to London, and would of course be much with them, "the
report would probably gain ground." She therefore hoped we would
contradict it. She is _greater_ than ever; I think London will not
hold her; she has been laying out mints of money.

Isabella and Frances enjoyed the Duke of Wellington's ball much. I
finished their gowns with the red roses for the occasion, and they
looked particularly well. They stayed till five in the morning. Many
of the Guards came from Cambray, and they found many friends of
Philip's.

Yesterday we went to take leave of Catalani in the _Nozze di Figaro_.
She sang delightfully. I think we missed you all more and more, and
shall feel most happy when we have again a beau without walls. I think
you will like the house at Versailles, but you have no idea how
difficult we found it to meet with anything that would hold us.

My father's extreme anxiety to go to England has now a little abated;
his general health and spirits are good, but he has a wonderful degree
of irritation and restlessness about him. The alteration in his mind
strikes me every day, his memory is so much altered, and his deafness
is increased.