Chapter I (1)

1805-1806

LETTERS RELATING TO THE WORLD OF TON

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
GROSVENOR SQUARE, _January 18th, 1805._

Here we are established as of old and beginning our usual
avocations.... Our Opera-box we like extremely. I generally take some
young woman, which makes us cheerful. Miss Glyn [1] was of my party
one night, and was well pleased. Little Roscius [2] appeared again
to-night. I almost despair of seeing him, though I will try.

On Saturday morning, Marianne and I and five or six hundred others
went to hear Mr Sydney Smith [3] lecture upon the _Conduct of the
Human Understanding_. His voice is fine and he is well satisfied
with himself. I cannot say we came away much wiser, but we were well
amused. I hear that Mr Smith protests that all women of talent are
plain.

Lady de Clifford [4] is to be Governess to Princess Charlotte, Mrs and
Miss Trimmer [5] the acting ones. I doubt the mother accepting the
appointment. On the 25th February there is to be a grand ball at
Windsor.

_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope_.
GROSVENOR SQUARE, _February 1st, 1805._

MY DEAR JOHN,

I fear you will have thought me long in performing my promise, but as
I was to have gone to Court yesterday, I delayed writing to you until
the ceremony was over; as it is, instead of my letter being full of
royalty, peers and ribbons, you must accept nothing but the remnant of
those ideas, which the interesting hairbreadth adventures of _Tom
Jones_ have left me; in plain English the Drawing-room was put off
on account of the Queen's indisposition, and I am just at the end of
the above-mentioned delightful book. Oh! had I the wit of Partridge,
the religion of Thwackum, or the learning of Square, I might describe
with tolerable accuracy the intolerable stupidity of this great town.
The Opera is thin of company, thin of performers, thin of lights, thin
of _figurantes_, thin of scene-shifters, thin of everything! One
night we were a good deal entertained by having his R.H., & _chère
amie_ [6] in the next box to us, really they squabbled so, you
would have imagined they were man and wife....

As for Politicks, of which you ask so much, everyone here seems
discontented. All Pitt's friends, angry that he has deserted them for
Addington, and Lord Stafford, the head of them all, angry that the
ribbon should be given to Lord Abercorn--to one who has protected
rather than to one who has insulted Pitt--"Such little things are
great to little men."

The King, everyone agrees, looks charmingly and is more composed than
he has been for long. Lady de Clifford is appointed Governess to the
Princess (Charlotte)--_the bosom friend of Mrs Fitzherbert,
hélas!_--and Mrs and Miss Trimmer under her; some say they will not
accept it. Dr Fisher, Bishop of Exeter, is to be Governor. I am for
making he and Mrs Trimmer disagree about Religion.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope. February 23rd._

On Thursday Marianne and I attended the Drawingroom, and so
disagreeable a crowd I never was in. Miss Drummond [7] looked very
well and Miss Glyn quite pretty--the great Hoop suits her figure. I
have not heard you mention being acquainted with a young man of the
name of Knox-Irish. [8] His father and mother live in this street, and
are friends of Mrs Beaumont's. [9]

I have finished the Life of Sir William Jones. [10] His acquirements
appear to have been wonderful--eight languages perfectly, but I think
it was twenty-eight of which he had more or less some knowledge. He
was withal a very religious man. His attainments were of the right
sort, for they fixed his principles and all his writings are in favor
of Virtue.

The speech Mr Windham made in the House of Commons was full of wit,
and would I think amuse you.

_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
(_Undated._)

The apparent good spirits in which you write, even after a
Mathematical Lecture, gives us reason to hope that that favourite
exercise has not quite deprived you of your valuable intellect Long
may it continue thus! Long may you be the glory of CH. CH.
Mathematicians; and when you have left the British Athens, long may
your name stand forward among the lists of those Worthies who
discovered that two parallel, straight lines might run on to all
Eternity without ever meeting!

As a little incitement to you to continue acquiring learning, I will
send you a short account of the manner that two Dukes of Suffolk
(_sic_) spent their time at Cambridge in 1550:

"During dinner, one of them read a Chapter of the Greek Testament, and
did afterwards translate it into English; they then said Grace, in
turns; & did afterwards propound questions, either in Philosophy or
Divinity; & so spent all the time at Meat in Latin disputation.

"When there was any Public disputation, they were always present;
every Morning they did read & afterwards translate some of Plato in
Greek, & at Supper present their Labours. They were of St John's
College, & every day were devoted to private lectures, & the Residue
they did account for."

I ought almost to apologise for sending you so long an extract, but I
thought it would remind you so forcibly of yourself and your
distribution of your time, that I was unwilling to deny you the
pleasure of the comparison.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
(_Undated._)

Thanks for the account of the distribution of your time. I flatter
myself you are too much attached to home and to the life you have led
here ever to get into the idle way of spending Sunday, which I fear
you will witness too frequently at Oxford, for from your account of
what they are obliged to do on that day, a very small portion only
need be given up to the religious duties of the day.

I was particularly pleased with a passage I met with the other day in
which Bishop Newton on the Prophecies, speaking of Lord Bolingbrook,
who, you know, was an unbeliever and from his talents and eloquence
had too much weight at the time, says, "Raleigh and Clarendon
believed, Lock and Newton believed, where then is the discredit to
Revelation if Lord Bolingbrook was an Infidel. 'A scorner,' saith
Solomon, 'seeketh Wisdom and findeth it not'"

I know not if your father took any notice of the part of your letter
to him where you mention that, in a lecture, it had been proved that
the Blacks were a species between men and monkeys--I think, for I have
not your letter, that I have stated rightly what was said. It might be
asserted, but surely could not be _proved_, and it is doctrine I
do not like, as it goes directly to justify using them as beasts of
burthen--a very good argument for a slave dealer.

_March 1st._

Your father is very well. He was sorry for the fate of the Slave Trade
Bill last night.

The Elopement and distress in the House of Petre has been the chief
subject of conversation for the last few days. Miss Petre [11] made
her escape from her father's house in Norfolk with her Brothers' tutor
on Monday last. It is said they are at Worcester and married only by a
Catholic Priest. However, Lord and Lady P. are gone there and it is
expected she will be brought back to-night. They can do nothing but
get her married to the man at Church. She is 18, he 30, and no
Gentleman. She was advertised and 20 guineas reward offered to anyone
who could give an account of the stray sheep. It is a sad History.
What misery this idle girl has caused her parents, and probably
ensured her own for life.

_Marianne Stanhope to John Spencer Stanhope._
_March 3rd._

You have doubtless read in the papers the account of Miss Petre's
elopement with her brother's tutor, Mr Philips. He is a very low man,
quite another class, always dined with the children, never associated
the least with the family, a sort of upper servant. Lady Petre thought
him rather forward, he was to have left them at Easter. She had seen
her daughter at twelve the night before, and only missed her at
breakfast. Her clothes were all gone. A friend of his, a brandy
merchant, accompanied her in the chaise, the tutor rode first. A
clergyman refused to marry them some time ago at Lambeth, but they
have since been married at Oxford by a Mr Leslie, a Catholic priest,
which is not enough. They are not yet discovered.

_The Same._
GROSVENOR SQUARE, _March 4th, 1805._

MY DEAR JOHN,

... London cannot be duller, those who remember it formerly were
astonished at the change that time has wrought, and those ho look
forward to the future, hope it will not always be so; but without a
joke, except the Opera and the house of Glyn, I have scarcely seen
anybody or been anywhere. We have three dinner engagements this week,
besides one at home, but not one Assembly. You must know that we
contrive to go out almost every night, but that it is only one degree
better, or if you please, two degrees worse, than dozing at home;
then, you know, as the existence of an Assembly is the not having room
to stir, when you have plenty of elbow room from the thinness of the
company it must be bad; besides another thing, when you have no time
for conversation, you fancy everybody is agreeable, and in fashionable
life, trust me, imagination is always preferable to reality!

Not a ball have I heard of excepting one the other night at Mr
Johnstone's, Hanover Square. Now you know, balls without dancing are
such very enchanting things! Without the Opera it requires a stretch
of imagination to know how we should have existed. Our neighbour, Mrs
Fitzherbert, in the next box to our own, affords us plenty of
amusement. I shall almost become an adept at finding out Royalty by
their conversation, from frequently overhearing what passes between
the Lady, and not only one but several of their R.H.'s. I will give
you an infallible guide to a Royal conversation. Stupidity for its
basis, an ignorance of intellectual merit for one prop, and a contempt
of moral excellence for the other; witticisms, _double entendres_,
mimickry, and every species of oaths that any English gentleman ever
made use of for the _fond_; as a whole you may call it double refined
folly and vulgarity. This is only doing justice to the conversations I
have overheard; far be it from me to wish to diminish the meridian
lustre with which these noble gentlemen shine. Let me rather forgive
_them_ for understanding who have no conduct and those for conduct who
have no understanding. The excellent qualifications of the lady as an
associate are evident, she has neither conduct nor understanding.

The ball at Windsor has been the general subject of conversation this
last week. The House of Stanhope put in a good appearance. Mrs
Pierrepont was there. The supper was most magnificent. Seats were
raised above the rest for the Royal Family; during the entertainment
the King rose, and gave the Queen's health, while everybody bowed and
curtseyed. Afterwards, the Queen repeated the same compliment to His
Majesty.

Our next-door flirt complained much to Lord Grantham at being obliged
to dance a great deal with Lord Petersham, which she thought very
tiresome. Mr Kinnaird [12] seems quite off, Lord P. quite out of
spirits. Papa thinks he really loves not her purse but _her_. She
seems to love nobody, and flirts with everybody. I saw her at Court on
Thursday se'nnight looking beautifully cross at not having a man near
her. The Drawing-room was a dreadful squash.

I have seen a good deal of the Kinnairds lately, we dine there to-
morrow and stay the evening. Georgiana is very pleased and looks well.

The Royal Institution is more the _ton_ than anything and Ladies
of all ages submit to a squeeze of an hundred people in a morning, to
hear lectures on the Human Understanding, Experimental Philosophy,
Painting, Music or Geology. We only attend a course of the latter--
don't shout at the name, it means the History of the Earth. You see
how wise I grow! Mr Eyre thinks all the ladies will be pedants, and
when you have been there, you will think so too. To see so large a
party, the majority ladies, not very handsome though all listening
with profound attention to the opinion of Descartes and Newton, some
taking notes and all looking quite scientific, is really ridiculous.
Mr Davy, [13] who lectures on Geology or the Chemical History of the
Earth, is very clever, his style is good, his matter interesting, and
to make use of an expression I heard a gentleman use, he certainly
writes on the subject _con amore_.

I hope you will like Sir Wm. Jones's life. I have not read it but have
heard it is very clever. My lectures at present are _Metastasio_,
and _St Simon's Memoirs_, the Bp. of London's lectures and Bigland's
_Letters on Ancient History_.

There is a little tale of Miss Edgeworth's which is much admired, "The
Modern Griselda," which you must read.

Of the names mentioned in this letter, that of Lord Petersham deserves more than a passing notice. Among the members of the House of Stanhope, it must first be remarked, there were to be found some notable exceptions to the prevailing social type of that generation. Philip, Earl of Chesterfield, for one, although he failed to keep up the traditions of his famous predecessor in art and elegance, was never notorious for the weaknesses of his day; and Charles, the 3rd Earl Stanhope, more violently eschewed the foppishness of many of his contemporaries, devoting all his attention to mechanical contrivances and scientific research. His simplicity of life, however, was said to be the expression of his Republican tendencies which he had inherited in a pronounced form from his father, who had likewise left behind him the reputation of having been a magnificent patron of learning. In fact, in order to emphasize his democratic principles, so shabby had been the attire of the second Earl Stanhope, that on one occasion he had actually been stopped by a new door- keeper as he was about to enter the House of Lords. "Now then, honest man, go back!" quoth this vigilant guardian of the sacred precincts; "you can have no business in such a place, honest man!" And it was only with considerable difficulty that the eccentric peer had asserted his right to admittance among his fellows, whose honesty was enhanced by a more elegant exterior.

In marked contrast, therefore, to these other members of the family, it was in the Harrington branch that the foibles of the _beau monde_ were cultivated with intention.

Charles, 3rd Earl of Harrington, born the same year as Charles, 3rd Earl Stanhope, had married Jane, daughter and heiress of Sir John Fleming, Bt, who proved no unworthy successor to her celebrated predecessor immortalised by George Selwyn for vivacity and abnormal conversational powers. [14] The drawing-room of this later Lady Harrington was recognised as a great social centre where her friends could meet, if not actually without invitation, at least at a shortness of notice which marked the informality of the entertainment and lent to it a subtle charm. The hostess, whose energy was unbounded, would go out in the morning and pay about thirty calls, leaving at each house an invitation bidding her friends to assemble at Harrington House that same evening.

She would then walk up Bond Street at the hour at which the fashionable young men of the day were likely to be abroad, and would dart from one side of the road to the other as she spied a suitable object for her purpose. A circle of friends assembled thus three or four times a week, resulted in the formation of a recognised clique, the delightful informality of which was much appreciated by her young relations from Grosvenor Square, and the _entrée_ into which was much envied by those who were admitted only to the larger and more stately parties reserved for the less favoured.

Nor were Lady Harrington's impromptu evening assemblies less celebrated than her perpetual tea-drinkings at Harrington House. The superior quality of this expensive beverage in which the family of Stanhope indulged there, and the frequency with which Lady Harrington presented it to her visitors at all hours of the day, gave rise to the saying that where you saw a Stanhope, there you saw a tea-pot. A story current in town was that when her son, General Lincoln Stanhope, returned home after a prolonged absence in India, he found the family party precisely as he had left them many years before, seated in the long gallery sipping their favourite refreshment. On his entry, his father looked up from this absorbing occupation, and, with a restraint indicative of the highest breeding, gave voice to the characteristic greeting--"Hullo! Linky, my dear boy, you are just in time for a cup of tea!"

Such a home was the very atmosphere in which to develop a fashionable man of the period; and the eldest son of the House, Charles. Lord Petersham, did not discredit his surroundings. Tall, handsome, and faultlessly clad, he was one of the most celebrated dandies of his day. Decidedly affected in his manners, he spoke with a slight lisp; and since he was said to recall the pictures of Henri IV., he endeavoured to accentuate this likeness by cultivating a pointed beard. He never went out till six in the evening, and one of his hobbies indoors was the strenuous manufacture of a particular sort of blacking which, he always maintained, once perfected, would surpass every other. His sitting-room emphasized his eccentricity. One side of it represented the family _penchant_, being covered with shelves upon which were placed canisters containing the most expensive and perfect kinds of tea. On the other, in beautiful jars, reposed an equally choice and varied assortment of snuffs. Lord Petersham's snuff-boxes and his canes were alike celebrated; indeed, his collection of the former was said to be the finest in England, and he was reported to have a fresh box for every day in the year. Thus Gronow relates that once when a light Sevres box which he was using, was admired, Lord Petersham responded with a gentle lisp--"Yes, it is a nice summer box--but would certainly be inappropriate for winter wear!"

Caricatures of the period represent the heir to the Earldom of Harrington clad in light trousers and a brown coat, seated upon a brown prancing horse. One of his whims, indeed, was to affect everything brown in hue-- brown steeds, brown liveries, brown carriages, brown harness and brown attire. This was attributed to the fact of his having been in love with a fair widow of the name of Brown, whose charms he thus endeavoured to immortalise; but whatever the truth of this rumour, it is evident from the letter of Marianne Stanhope, that at the age of twenty-five he honoured with his devoted attention a lady whose personal attractions and unamiable disposition afforded a fund of entertainment to his relations living next door to her in Grosvenor Square. And this sidelight on the character of the dandy gives pause to criticism. How much, perhaps, of the eccentricity for which Lord Petersham was remarkable, like that of the celebrated Lady Hester Stanhope, may be attributed to the buffetings of a secret fate? Yet, this man who, with exceptional abilities and exceptional opportunity for exercising those abilities, could contentedly fill his empty days with the manufacture of blacking, or pass an entire night, as Gronow relates him to have done, playing battledore and shuttlecock for a wager with Ball Hughes, was, in much, a typical product of his generation. His mannerisms were accepted by his contemporaries with a forbearance which bordered on admiration, and, however childish his peculiarities, he remained unalterably popular. Nor were the other members of his family less appreciated for their good-nature and amiability.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
GROSVENOR SQUARE, _March 19th, 1805._

I shall employ my Pen in sending you an account of last night's
gaiety--the first really gay night Marianne has had.

We began our evening at a concert at Mrs Methuen's, from thence we
proceeded to a very fine Assembly at the Ladies' Townshends, and about
twelve arrived at the Duchess of Bolton's, where we found them
tripping on the light fantastick toe with great spirit. Marianne found
herself near Lady A. Stanhope, [15] who was extremely attentive to
her, & her first partner introduced to her by Lady Harrington was Mr
Mercer. After supper she danced a Reel, and afterwards two dances with
Mr Dashwood, & then two with Mr Cooke of the Guards. I need not, after
this account of the ball say she was well amused. There were a great
many men & very young ones, not too fine to dance. Lord Alvanley [16]
is not amongst the smartest. Hay Drummond amused me, for _at five in
the morning_, he asked me if I had a daughter there!--I was in bed
by 1/2 after five.

Marianne is quite well this morning and very well disposed to go to
Almack's if your father does not object. On Thursday we go to another
ball at Lady Ledespenser's.

We have now delightful weather, soft rain yesterday; therefore I
expect a pull in the Sociable will be delightful to-day & do us all
good after our night's raking.

The Duchess of Bolton, [17] who was a cousin of Walter Stanhope, had been a widow since 1794, when the dukedom became extinct on the death of her husband. The latter, well known during the lifetime of his elder brother as the eccentric Lord Henry Paulet, was believed to have supplied Smollet with his character of Captain Whiffle in _Roderick Random_. For many years he had resided at Bolton--formerly Baltimore--House, a quaintly constructed, solitary mansion, standing on the outskirts of London amid rural scenery, and encircled by a fine garden. Celebrated for its hospitality in those the last days of its splendour, Bolton House had opened its portals nightly to the guests who drove down from town to take part in the festivities there, amongst the most frequent of whom had been Walter Stanhope and his young wife. The duchess, however, subsequent to her husband's death, had heard with dismay of a projected transformation in her surroundings. The erection of new buildings in the neighbourhood was predicted--houses which would blot out the rural scenery and for ever destroy the privacy of her country home. And although this dreaded innovation did not actually come to pass till 1801, long before the first stone of Russell Square had been laid, the duchess had sold her threatened mansion to Lord Loughborough, a friend of Walter Stanhope, and had established herself in a new home but four doors from the house of the latter, No. 32 Grosvenor Square.

Settled thus in the heart of London, her love of entertaining remained undiminished, and beneath her hospitable roof the House of Stanhope, in its various branches, continued to assemble as of yore. There Lady Harrington still figured as one of the most constant guests, ever ready to do a kindly action to any of her young relations whom she encountered. Mr Mercer, whom she presented to Marianne Stanhope at the party on March 18th, was, as she was well aware, a man greatly in request in society, and to whom an introduction was eagerly coveted on account of his exceptional talent for music. Gifted with a remarkably fine voice, he sang duets in company with a friend, in Greek, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and English. "Mercer's voice and both their tastes are exquisite," relates Lord Glenbervie at this date. "They accompany themselves, Mercer on the Pianoforte, Gill on a Spanish guitar, which he has had made under his own directions in London. Their foreign airs and words they have chiefly picked up recently from ballad-singers in the streets."

Marianne Stanhope was therefore fortunate in securing this acquaintance, as she was in having for a partner "Mr Cooke of the Guards," better known in London society as "Kangaroo Cooke," for many years private aide-de-camp and secretary to the Duke of York, and of whom Gronow relates that, "He was in the best society and always attracted attention by his dandified mode of dress." Still more, besides frequenting all the _Ton_ parties in London at night, during the day he was invariably to be seen somewhere between the barracks of the Horse Guards and the premises of Weston the tailor in Bond Street, an ultra-fashionable promenade, which he paced and re-paced, thus satisfactorily exhibiting the beauty of his clothes and encountering the most select members of his acquaintance.

The curious nickname which clung to this dandy through life is usually ascribed to a quaint resemblance noticeable in him to the Australian quadruped after which he was called; but others attributed it rather to the leaps and bounds by which he advanced socially, though on account of his connections and the exquisite perfection of his dress this could not be considered surprising. The fact that he bore such a name was well known to him, and only on one occasion did it cause him any annoyance. Once, when dining on board the flag-ship off Lisbon with Admiral Galton, he was much startled by his host suddenly springing up and shouting out a mysterious order, the terms of which seemed like a veiled insult. "Make signal," thundered the Admiral, "for the _Kangaroo_ to get under way!" For one instant the dismayed beau feared that this was a nautical form of dismissal due to some offence of which he had unwittingly been guilty; but his neighbour at table relieved his fears by explaining that the Admiral was merely directing the immediate departure of one of the vessels of his squadron, which, by a strange coincidence, bore the same name as his honoured guest.

But a yet more celebrated leader of fashion mentioned by Mrs Stanhope as being present at the ball given by the Duchess of Bolton was Lord Alvanley. One of the accepted dandies in the same category as Lord Petersham, the Duke of Argyle, Lords Foley and Worcester, Beau Brummell and his great friend, Henry Pierrepont, Lord Alvanley had served with distinction in the army, and further enjoyed the reputation of being one of the wittiest men in Europe. Short and somewhat stout, with a small nose and florid cheeks usually adorned with a lavish sprinkling of snuff, like his rival Lord Petersham, he cultivated a lisp which accentuated the humour of his utterances. He also adopted much the same method of enhancing his value by indulging in certain peculiarities which, however inconvenient to his fellows, appear to have been accepted by them with surprising amiability. For instance, being fond of reading in bed, when he at length felt sleep overpowering him, he would extinguish his candle by the novel method of popping it alight under his bolster, or flinging it into the middle of the room and taking a shot at it with his pillow--but if the shot was unsuccessful, with a heavy sigh he left it to take its chance. So well known, indeed, was this little habit of Lord Alvanley, that hostesses who were anxious not to have their houses set on fire at midnight would depute a servant to watch in a neighbouring apartment till his lordship composed himself to sleep, a precaution which was invariably adopted by Mrs Stanhope when he paid his annual visit to Cannon Hall.

However, despite such minor failings, Lord Alvanley enjoyed a popularity seldom surpassed. To his other recommendations was added that of being a celebrated _gourmet_, and the excellence was proverbial of the little dinners which he gave in his house in Park Street, St James's, to which never more than eight friends were bidden, and at which there was an apricot tart on the sideboard all the year round. Moreover, although like Brummell and Sheridan, many a _bon mot_ was fathered upon him to which he had never given utterance, yet his reputation as a wit was well deserved, and at a date when both the dandies and the fine ladies prided themselves upon their undisguised insolence, Lord Alvanley remained a shining example of good-nature, so that, save, perhaps, in one instance recorded in this book, his wit never offended. Likewise, only once, it is said, did he exhibit reluctance in consenting to oblige anyone who requested from him a favour, on which occasion he conveyed his refusal in a singularly characteristic manner. Some friends were anxious to get up a representation of _Ivanhoe_, and begged Lord Alvanley to take the part of Isaac. "That I fear is impossible," he replied. "Why so?" urged his friends, "since you are so clever at doing different characters." "Ah, but--" objected Lord Alvanley, "in all my life I have never been able to _do_ a Jew!"

In truth, with the House of Israel his extravagance had made him painfully familiar; nevertheless, as mentioned by Lord Broughton, on one occasion he made his peccadilloes in this respect the subject of another jest. "Is there any chance," he asked with assumed pathos, "of the ten tribes of Israel being recovered? For I have exhausted the other two!"

* * * * *

It was three months after the ball at Bolton House, which had been preceded by a concert at Mrs Methuen's that Mrs Stanhope mentions attending another entertainment given by the latter hostess, to which she went shortly after an evening of painful excitement.

_Tuesday, June 18th, 1805._

You would read in the papers of the riot at the Opera House. So
complete and mischievous a one I never before saw, or ever wish to see
again. I saw part of the stage pulled up and thrown into the Pitt, and
when the scene was thrown down, it was only wonderful people were not
killed, as the stage was full. Notwithstanding the damage was said to
amount from £900 to £1200, we are to have an Opera to-night.

It was said the House of Peers intended to, object to the Commons
prosecuting one of their House, but I have not heard anything more of
it--so I suppose it will pass over.

It formed the great topick of conversation at the Methuen's ball where
we were till five this morning--fine, but dull--the best supper I
ever saw.

The Opera House, at the date of this occurrence, was usually a brilliant and attractive scene. The accommodation was divided into seats in the gallery, boxes and pit. The latter, where many of the _élite_ were seated, was separated from the stage by the orchestra only, which then consisted of less than half the number of performers of which it would be composed to-day. There were, consequently, no stalls, but a passage led from the entrance to the front seats, known as Fop's Alley from the dandies who lounged and promenaded there, partly to see and partly to be seen by the ladies with whom the house was filled.

The dress of these exquisites was ruled by a punctilious etiquette, and their knee-breeches, lace ruffles, diamond buckles, and _chapeaux bras_ were subject to the strictest regulations and to every fluctuation of the prevailing mode. Their gold-handled spy-glasses were impartially directed towards the stars upon the stage or to the belles in the neighbouring boxes, where, from the grand tier to the roof, was a dazzling display of beauty and of fashion. Their excursions to the Green Room were likewise interspersed with visits to those amongst the audience to whose boxes they had the entree; and as they murmured platitudes to their fair acquaintance, they traced languidly the locality of yet other friends whom they could visit, whose names were inserted upon the paper fans with which each lady was provided, and on which was printed a diagram of the boxes and a list of their owners throughout the great building.

But on this momentous night the very atmosphere of the place was transformed. At the first token of the coming storm, many of the frightened beaux hurriedly vacated their beloved promenade, while certain peaceable members of the audience also endeavoured to escape from the building. But the majority remained, brazenly instigating or prolonging the disgraceful scene which followed. The cause of the sudden riot was afterwards related personally by Michael Kelly, the then celebrated actor and stage manager.

On account of the length of the arias and ballets, and the impossibility of being able to get the lady-singers ready to begin in time, the operas seldom finished till after twelve o'clock on Saturdays. The Bishop of London had therefore sent to inform Kelly that if the curtain did not drop before midnight, the licence should be taken away and the house shut up. Against this fiat there was no appeal, and for two or three weeks running, Kelly was obliged, on Saturday night, to order the closing of the performance in the midst of an interesting scene in the ballet. On these two or three occasions this was submitted to with unexpected good-humour by the subscribers and the general public, but such a state of affairs could not long continue.

"On Saturday, the 15th of June (Oh! fatal night!)," Kelly relates, "the demon of discord appeared in all his terrors in this hitherto undisturbed region of harmony. The curtain fell before twelve o'clock, just as Deshayes and Parisot were dancing a popular _pas de deux_. This was the signal for the sports to begin: a universal outcry of `Raise the curtain! Finish the ballet!' resounded from all parts of the House; hissing, hooting, yelling, (in which most of the ladies of quality joined) commenced.

"The ballet master, D'Egville, was called for, and asked 'Why he allowed the curtain to drop before the conclusion of the ballet?' He affirmed that he had directions from me to do so. I was then called upon the stage, and received a volley of hisses, yellings, etc. I stood it all, like brick and mortar; but at last, thinking to appease them, I said the truth was that an order had been received from the Bishop of London to conclude the performance before midnight. Some person from the third tier of the boxes who appeared to be a principal spokesman called out--'You know, Kelly, that you are telling a lie.' I turned round very coolly and looking up at the box from whence the lie came, I said, 'You are at a very convenient distance; come down on the stage and use that language again, if you dare!'

"This appeal was received by the audience with a loud burst of applause, and the universal cry of 'Bravo, Kelly: well replied!--turn him out! Turn the fellow out of the boxes!' The gentleman left the box, but did not think proper to make his appearance on the stage. This was a lucky turn as regarded myself, but did not appease the rioters; for finding their mandate for drawing up the curtain and finishing the ballet was not obeyed, they threw all the chairs out of the boxes into the Pitt, tore up the benches, broke the chandeliers, jumped into the orchestra, smashed the pianoforte, and continued their valourous exploits by breaking all the instruments of the poor unoffending performers. Having achieved deeds so worthy of a polished nation, and imagining no more mischief could be done, they quitted the scene of their despoliation with shouts of victory."

There was, however, a finale to the drama which the rioters did not expect. Mr Goold, a lawyer and great friend of Kelly, identified some of the ringleaders and brought actions against them for damages which cost them many hundreds of pounds. The lustres, scenes and musical instruments which had been destroyed alone were estimated at £1500. And the prosecutions were only withdrawn on the culprits undertaking to apologise for their conduct, as well as to recoup all who had suffered through their misbehaviour. Meanwhile, many persons were frightened from attending the Opera for fear of a repetition of such scenes, and the rival attraction of the performances given by the young Roscius prospered in proportion.

This infant prodigy, who was born in 1791, first appeared on the stage at the age of eleven, and for over five years personated the most difficult characters before enraptured audiences, earning from fifty to seventy-five guineas per night, apart from benefits, so that he really made from £4000 to £5000 a year.

In 1805, the House of Commons adjourned in a body to witness his performance of _Hamlet_. Wherever he appeared an excited mob instantly gathered; ladies vied with each other in the endeavour to kiss his hand, and at the hour when he was expected at the Play House a larger crowd assembled than ever collected to see the king. "He and Bonaparte now divide the world," wrote Sir William Knightly at this date; "This is, I believe, the first instance since the creation, of a child so much under age, getting such an income by any ability. I think he is very excellent, his gracefulness is unparalleled and the violence of the desire to see him either on or off the stage is like a madness in the people."

In the autumn of 1805, Roscius went a tour in the Provinces; in August of that year he was in the North, and Mr Smith, the Vicar of Newcastle (formerly tutor to the sons of Walter Stanhope) wrote to Mrs Stanhope an account of the prodigy's reception there:--

_August 19th_.

The Young Roscius is engaged here for three nights, and makes his
_début_ this evening in the play of "Douglas"; places are as yet
allowed to be taken only for the first four nights of his performance,
and so great is the expectation of Newcastle, that if the boxes had
held double the number of spectators, all the seats would have been
taken.

But whatever impression the young actor made on the other inhabitants of Newcastle, the verdict pronounced by the critical Mr Smith is very modified praise:--

For Mrs Stanhope's comfort and the credit and taste of the people of
Newcastle, I add that Master Betty has had a very good Benefit,
considering the thinness of the Town. I should conjecture the house
amounted to about £95; and admitting that he mouths a good deal, is
indistinct in his lower tones, and does not pronounce very accurately,
I was not displeased with his performance of Warwick in the play "Earl
of Warwick."

Despite this far from enthusiastic verdict, great was the excitement of the Stanhope family to hear that the next county to be visited by Roscius was Yorkshire, whither they usually returned before Christmas. Ere that date, however, their thoughts were much occupied by a double tragedy, the death within a month of their friends, Lord and Lady Kinnaird. [18]

_November 2nd, 1805._

I sent you word of the truly deplorable situation of the two poor
Kinnairds; within one month deprived of both parents, and all their
brothers in Yeomanry. When the last accounts were received, the
present Lord Kinnaird was at Vienna. Lady K. did not, as I sent you
word, die in her carriage, tho' in it when she was seized. Lord K. was
dining at the Ordinary at Perth races and was seized at dinner, the
Uvula descending into the Windpipe. He recovered sufficiently to
return into the room, but did not survive many days.

Lord Primrose [19] from whom the whole detail came, sent us also an
account of his gaieties, he and his father had been a tour in Scotland
and had not neglected to visit at Drummond Castle with which he was
enchanted, which he could not well fail being, as the lady of the
Castle [20] is a passionate admirer of it, and takes great pleasure in
it and manages much about the Estate.

We have at last concluded Roscoe's elaborate work, the Life of Leo X,
and I do not think I shall ever go through the whole again. The
Italian wars are tiresome and to me always most uninteresting. I
neither like Leo's principles nor those of his biographer. Parts I
shall certainly read again. The style is elegant, and he is an able
apologist. I certainly should recommend parts of the work to you; it
will be an amusement to you at Christmas.

The comment of Mrs Stanhope, as a staunch Tory, upon the famous _Life of Leo X._, which was then attracting much attention, affords an amusing contrast to the extravagant praise bestowed upon the work by the Whigs of the day. Shortly after she had finished its perusal she must have returned with her family to Yorkshire, where a fresh excitement awaited her.

"The Gallery at Bretton," she writes, "is to be painted, as well as the staircase. The Architect says, he has worked there six months already. We are going over to see the result of his labours."

Bretton Park, which was then undergoing such complete renovation, is situated about a couple of miles from Cannon Hall, and its owner at this date afforded endless food for discussion both in Yorkshire and London.

In a previous volume, [21] reference has been made to the celebrated Mrs Beaumont, or, as she was universally called by her generation, Madame Beaumont. The natural daughter of Sir Thomas Blackett of Bretton, she had been made his heiress, and had married Colonel Beaumont, M.P. for York. Although Mrs Stanhope and many others then living could remember her as a village girl riding to Penistone every market day to sell butter and eggs, Mrs Beaumont successfully ignored any such unpleasant reminiscences on the part of those acquainted with her early life, and continued to dominate a situation to which, thus heavily handicapped, she might well have succumbed.

By dint of an unassailable belief in her wealth and importance, she held her own with the county families, whose slights she ignored or repaid with interest, and whom she alternately flouted and patronised. At once a source of irritation and of amusement to her neighbours, this was particularly so in the case of the family at Cannon Hall, whose property adjoined her own and who were perpetually annoyed by her interference and impertinence. There was unfortunately no boundary line between the estates, so Mrs Beaumont used unhesitatingly to inform strangers that all the land from the walls of Bretton to those of Cannon Hall was hers; while on one occasion, when a dispute arose between herself and Mr Stanhope respecting a certain tree, she settled the question in a characteristic manner by causing this to be cut down in the night.

The letters of the younger Stanhopes were full of anecdotes of, or complaints against their aggressive neighbour. "You can have no idea what petty differences my father and Mrs Beaumont have about boundaries and rights, which Madam Graspall claims in everything," wrote Edward Stanhope on one occasion. "She warned us all not to shoot _anywhere_ on her ground or Manors, also from Mr Bosville's, and she at once sent Mr Bird to shoot on my father's land. However, we warned _him_ off! "But although the sportsman with the inappropriate name met with a warm reception from the younger branches of the House of Stanhope, Edward adds, "My mother never will take part in these differences but chuses to call and dine. However, as she was thus civil, this year Madam has chosen only to leave cards without inquiring whether we were at home, and has now sent out cards for a party and left us out!" None the less, although later in life, as we shall see, the family at Bretton were cleverly satirised by Marianne Stanhope, a show of friendship was maintained between the two families, which, in the case of the younger generation was very genuine, for the daughters of Madame Beaumont were the antithesis of their parent and were simple and charming.

Yet Mrs Beaumont was undoubtedly one of the most curious characters of her generation, in that, as stated, her self-assurance enabled her to tilt successfully against the strong social prejudices of her day and to sustain an all but impossible position with undoubted success. While Yorkshire and London rang with tales of her effrontery, the imperturbable lady, instead of perceiving snubs, dealt them, and in the height of her triumphant career enjoyed the wrath of the amazed recipients. Meanwhile, although many of the stories related of her were genuine, a few were undoubtedly apocryphal, among which must be classed the following, very generally believed in the West Riding a century ago.

It was said that being much addicted to gambling and proud of the immensity of the wagers which she dared to risk, Madame Beaumont on one occasion staked the entire Bretton estate on a game of chance. She lost; and her opponent, being apparently as sporting as herself, dared her to win it back by riding through Bretton Park and village astride on a jackass with her face to the tail The idea of the haughty and pompous lady undertaking such a penance must have seemed actually incredible, but Madame Beaumont was not readily daunted. To the unbounded surprise of her fellow-gamester she accomplished the feat and thus reinstated herself in all her former wealth and grandeur.

In Yorkshire, she invariably drove about the country in a carriage drawn by four beautiful black horses on which were seated postilions in velvet jockey-caps. She owned an extraordinary number of carriages, and directly news reached her that any visitor of importance was being entertained at Cannon Hall, she would order out her finest equipage and drive over in full state with the intention of enticing away the guest whose rank attracted her. As usual, no rebuffs discouraged her-she failed to perceive them. In London, she strove with equal determination to admit no one to her parties who was not the possessor of a title--commoners, however well born, were received by her with a scarcely concealed insolence. The big yellow coach in which she and her daughters drove about town was a familiar sight, making its triumphal progress through the most fashionable streets, or drawn up by the Park railings that its occupants might converse with the _élite_ among the loungers who thronged around it. For those who scoffed at Madame Beaumont courted her diligently on account of the excellence of her entertainments, while her luxury and the lavish nature of her expenditure formed their favourite topic of jest and gossip. Apart from her boundless hospitality to those whom she considered sufficiently important to be honoured by it, the sums which she spent on the house and stables at Bretton were said to have been enormous; and it was doubtless with considerable curiosity that the family at Cannon Hall, on their return to Yorkshire, hurried over to inspect the alterations which their neighbour was effecting.

_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
CANNON HALL, _December 4th, 1805._

We drove to Bretton this morning. We walked all over the gardens and
the House. The number of people is enough to distract one Architect.
Improvers, Agents, etc., etc., without end. Much is done, and still
much remains to be done. Madame B. says she shall quite rejoice to
leave the place. The plants appear in great order and are very
valuable. The Collection is extremely large, but at present the plants
are so very small that to the ignorant they appear of little value--
which we know is impossible to be the case.

Thanks for the account of your studies; as for mine, I cannot give a
very favourable report of them. Hume's _Henry 8th_, Warton on Pope,
_Cowper's Letters_, and _The Idler_, are the books I have at present
in hand; but I have not much leisure. We are at present alone, and
with my family round me, I do not wish for company. It is not a bustle
of company I _like_, for I do not like the Society of the Country--it
is morning, noon, and night.

Roscius is now performing at Sheffield--I should like to see him
there!

Life in the country at this date was apparently more exhausting than life in London. No moment of the day was sacred from the encroachments of visitors. Morning calls were the fashion, and it was held to be impolite to refuse admission to friends who, after a long drive over bad roads, not only expected the offer of some substantial refreshment, but in view of the fatigue they had undergone and their desire that they should be sufficiently recovered before undertaking the return journey, were apt to outstay their welcome. Of a neighbour, however, who resided beyond the distance practicable for a morning call, and with whom Marianne Stanhope had apparently been staying at this date, she gives a more enthusiastic description. Mr Fawkes of Farnley was the son of her father's old friend and neighbour at Horsforth, in the days of his youth, Walter Hawkesworth, [22] who took the name of Fawkes on inheriting the property of Farnley under the will of a cousin. He was succeeded, in 1792, by this son, Walter Ramsden Fawkes, who, in 1806, became Member for York, and later, as his father had been before him, High Sheriff for the county. This younger Mr Fawkes was a man of exceptional talent, who is best remembered by posterity as having been one of the earliest and most munificent patrons of J. M. W. Turner, but who was better known to his contemporaries for his remarkable oratory. Mr Stanhope relates of him that once at a meeting which was convened in Yorkshire to discuss the Peace of Amiens, he made a speech so brilliant that the reporters declared themselves unable to take it down, so completely were they carried away by its extraordinary eloquence and beauty of language.

_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope._
_December 4th, 1805._

You cannot think how charmed I was with Mr Fawkes when we were at
Farnley, he is so full of information and talent. He told us two
stories which pleased me so much that I will endeavour to relate
them--both facts.

About ten years ago a friend of his was riding thro' a long and gloomy
wood in one of the inland counties. As he came to the most intricate
part, suddenly his horse made a dead pause, pricked up his ears,
snorted, and when spurred, refused to proceed, his eyes all the time
upon one spot on the ground. On looking towards this place, conceive
the gentleman's horror at beholding a woman's body weltering in blood
and a dog licking the wounds. The traveller stood for some minutes
petrified with horror, his eyes rivetted on the body, when all at once
the dog, perceiving him, set off full speed thro' the thickest part of
the wood.

He was resolved to pursue the animal, and instantly spurring his
horse, he followed it through most intricate and unfrequented roads
for about ten miles, when he saw it enter a miserable house in a
little village. The traveller put up his horse, and entering the same
house, desired they would bring him something to drink. There were
three ill-looking fellows sitting round a table, under which the dog
had lain down. The traveller's object was now to find out to whom the
dog belonged, he tried every means, in vain, for about an hour, when,
seizing hold of the poker he, under some trivial pretext, gave the dog
a violent blow on the head, upon which one of the men with an oath
asked him why he did this. The gentleman with much presence of mind,
turned the poker promptly against the man who asked the question, and
having overpowered him in a pretended quarrel, discovered in his
pocket a bag of gold. The rest I do not know, but the man was hanged
for the murder in Oxfordshire or Warwickshire about ten years ago. Is
it not a curious story?

Mr Fawkes thinks it would be a fine subject for a picture--the awful
gloominess of the wood, the dead body, the dog licking the wounds, the
horror of the horse, and the man's countenance as he sat contemplating
the scene--he thinks might be wonderfully portrayed on canvas.