mmmmmm^mmiiiklfnminiifjii^ JOHNA.SEAVERNS ^ X.. ;:/■('-•. V-.'. . '•'■-:■•■•:■•'.•' s CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Scconti Series* VOL. I. CELEBRITIES I HAYE KNOWN; WITH EPISODES, POLITICAL, SOCIAL, SPORTING, AND THEATRICAL. BY LORD WILLIAM PITT LENNOX. Scconti Series* PapOlon du Parnasse, et semblable aux abeilles, A qui le bon Platon compare nos merveiUes ; Je suis chose legfere, ct vole h. tout sujet, Je vais de fleur en fleur, et d'objet en objet." LA rONTAINK. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. L LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13, GEEAT MAELBOROUGH STEEET. 1877. All Rif/hts Iteserveil. CONTENTS THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAPTER I. ROYALTY. — PRINCESS CHARLOTTE. PRINCESS CHARLOTTE AUGUSTA OF WALES — HER YOUTH AND JOYOUS SPIRITS — BOGNOR — A DANGEROUS WHIP — HER PRO- JECTED MARRIAGE WITH THE PRINCE OP ORANGE — " MANY A SLIP 'tWIXT CUP AND LIP" — THE MARRIAGE BROKEN OFF — DUCHESS OF OLDENBURG— PRINCE LEOPOLD OF SAXE COBURG — MARRIAGE OF THE HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE TO THE THRONE 1 CHAPTER II. DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE— GRIEF OF THE NATION- FUNERAL OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS . . . .24 CHAPTER III. SCHOLASTIC— DR. DODD. WESTMINSTER SCHOOL IN BYGONE DAYS — "THE NEW BOY" — A BROSURE — PRACTICAL JOKES — FAGGING — MY MASTER — OLD TOTHILL FIELDS — A VISIT TO RICHARD AND MISS HUBBERT — " SLENDER billy" — A TREACHEROUS FRIEND— REPRIMANDED BY DOCTOR DODD — SPORT FROM WESTMINSTER — THE EASTER MONDAY EPPING HUNT . . , . . .30 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. NOBLEMEN.— BYRON. BYRON — HIS CHARACTER DESCRIBED BY THOMAS MOORE— THE COUNTESS GUICCIOLI— LEIGH HUNT— MY ACQUAINTANCE WITH BYRON — DRURY LANE THEATRE — EDMUND KEAN — DEATH OF BYRON— STANZAS BY MISS LANDON— VICTOR HUGO— BYRON'S MONUMENT AT HUCKNELL— TOM MOORE — A YOUNG PRIMA DONNA . . . . . . . .69 CHAPTER V. NOBLEMEN.— JOHN GEORGE LAISIBTON, THE LATE EARL OF DURHAM. VISIT TO LAMBTON CASTLE — RACES — GENTLEMEN BIDEBS — JOHN MILLS — A DUEL PREVENTED— LAMBTON'S VENOMOUS ATTACK ON PHILPOTTS, BISHOP OF EXETER— SPLENDID SPEAKERS — AN UNFORTUNATE POST-PRANDIAL ORATOR— HUNT, THE RADICAL MEMBER FOR PRESTON — AFTER-DINNER SPEECHES — A ROTTEN BOROUGH — FALSE RETURN . . . . .93 CHAPTER VI. NOBLEMEN. — THE LATE DUKE OF BEAUFORT. THE LATE DUKE OP BEAUFORT — HIS AMIABLE QUALITIES — THE GERMAN BARON — ADVERTISING TAILORS — " PENNY WISE AND POUND foolish" — GOOD MANNERS — THE PRINCE OF WALES — A STAUNCH CONSERVATIVE— CURIOUS WAGER . . . 118 CHAPTER VII. NOBLEMEN. — EARL OF CARLISLE. EARL OP CARLISLE, AUTHOR, POET, AND LECTURER — MONODY ON HIS BROTHER FREDERICK GEORGE HOWARD— CAPPING VERSES — TOBACCO — VAUXHALL GARDENS— BYBON's ATTACK ON LORD CAR- LISLE'S GRANDFATHER — HENRY KIRKE WHITE'S STANZAS ON THE ABOVE NOBLEMAN — A DANCING LORD-LIEUTENANT . 131 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER VIII. LAW.— COCKBURN. THE LOED CHIEF JUSTICE COCKBURN — HIS ANCIENT LINEAGE — HIS SUCCESS AT THE BAR— THE LATE LORD MANSFIELD — ANECDOTE OF A WELL KNOWN BARRISTER— SPEAKING AGAINST TIME — COCKBUEN'S LOVE OF SPORT — THE ZOUAVE SCHOONER ....... 162 CHAPTER IX. SPECULATOR. — HUDSON. THE RAILWAY KING— MALAPROPISMS, ENGLISH AND FOREIGN — HOW TO ENSURE PUNCTUALITY IN A LADY'S-MAID — YOUNG HUDSON — " NOT SUCH A FOOL AS HE LOOKS " . . 184 CHAPTER X. MEN ABOUT TOWN. — SIR GEORGE WOMBWELL. THE LATE SIR GEORGE WOMBWELL — THE TENTH, OR PRINCE OF wales' royal hussars — AN ELEGANT EXTRACT — A LOVE AFFAIR — SUICIDE THREATENED — " ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL" 193 CHAPTER XL MEN ABOUT TOWN. — LORD ADOLPHUS FITZCLARENCE. DAMON AND PYTHIAS— DOLLY FITZCLAEENCE AND GEOEGE WOMBWELL — dolly's EAELY DAYS— HIS VISIT TO BEDLAM — LUDICEOUS INVESTIGATION ON BOARD THE ROYAL YACHT — UNE PUCE MEEVEILLEUSE ...... 208 CHAPTER XII. G ASTRONOMY. — UDE. GASTRONOMY — COSTLY BANQUETS IN ANCIENT ROME — ALEXIS SOYEE — ANECDOTE OF WELLINGTON'S CHEF DE CUISINE — DIN- NER AT THE REFORM CLUB — COOKERY BOOKS — FRENCH AND ENGLISH ARTISTS . . . . • .213 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. WARRIORS.— WELLINGTON. ANECDOTES OF WELLINGTON— EARL GRET'S EULOGIUM ON THE IRON DUKE— Wellington's coolness under fire — a nar- row ESCAPE ....... 236 CHAPTER XIV. WARRIORS.— CLYDE. SIR COLIN CAMPBELL — AFTERWARDS LORD CLYDE — HIS ACHIEVE- MENTS IN INDIA— CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE — THE SCOTCH BRIGADE IN THE CRIMEA ..... 245 CHAPTER XV. WARRIORS.— ANDREW BARNARD. SIR ANDREW BARNARD OF THE OLD 95tH, NOW RIFLE BRIGADE — A DINNER AT THE ALBANY — GLORIOUS ACTIONS OP THE LIGHT BRIGADE— 43rd., 52nD., AND 95tH REGIMENTS— A GATHERING AT SIR Andrew's — hook, cannon, lord graves, colonel ARMSTRONG, EDWARD WALPOLE — THE BEEF-STEAK CLUB 250 CHAPTER XVI. WARRIORS.— ELLEY. SIR JOHN ELLEY — PROMOTION FROM THE RANKS — HIS REPARTEE — PROWESS AT WATERLOO— THE HOUSEHOLD BRIGADE — ROYAL DRAGOONS, SCOTS GREYS, INNISKILLINGS — THE BLUES— ALMACKS — ARTFUL DODGES ...... 280 CHAPTER XVII. WARRIORS. — SIR HARRY SMTH. SIR HARRY SMITH — THE LIGHT DIVISION — THEIR PROWESS DURING THE PENINSULAR WAR — HIS MARRIAGE — ROMANTIC ADVENTURE — SIR CHARLES FELIX SMITH ..... 299 CHAPTER XVIII. WARRIORS. — SIR SIDNEY SMITH. SIR SIDNEY SMITH— HIS BIRTH, PARENTAGE, AND EDUCATION — HIS NAVAL CAREER — SIEGE OF ST. JEAN D'ACRE — UNEXPECTED HONOURS THRUST UPON HIM — KNIGHT OF THE GOLDEN KEY — AN EPISODE ....... 315 EOYALTY. PEIXCESS CHARLOTTE. CHAPTER I. PEINCESS CHARLOTTE AUGUSTA OF WALES— HER YOUTH AND JOYOUS SPIRITS — BOGNOR — A DANGEROUS WHIP — HER PRO- JECTED MARRIAGE WITH THE PRINCE OP ORANGE — "MANY A SLIP 'TWIXT CUP AND LIP"— THE MARRIAGE BROKEN OFF — DUCHESS OF OLDENBURG— PRINCE LEOPOLD OF SAXE COBURG — MARRIAGE OF THE HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE TO THE THRONE. " L'liistoire ne dib que los faits Le temps seul devoile les causes." " Le Cadran d'une horloge marque I'heure, sans que \c travail de I'interieur soit aperfu, ne pourroit-on pas dire qu'il en est a pen pres de meme de I'Histoire, comme Kecueil de faits plus ou moins exacts, dont les auteurs se sont tres rarement trouves a port6e de connoitre les causes, et qui depuis qu'on s'est mele de I'ecrire, se sont presque tons servilement copies les uns les autres? " Aussi les porsonnes qui en sont curieuses, et surtout celles qui n'ont d'autre but que celui de I'instruire ont-elles sou vent recours aux actes et aux memoires particuliers, soit iraprimes, soit raanu- scrits, echappes aux ravages du temps, dans les depots, ou publics on particuliei'S." IN early life I liad the good fortime to be honoured with the acquaintauce, and, without presumption I believe I may add, the friendship of the Princess Charlotte of Wales, only daughter of the fourth George by his unfortunate marriage with the VOL. I. B 2 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. sister of the ill-fated Duke of Brunswick, who fell gloriously at the battle of Quatre-Bras. Sorrowful even to this hour is the remembrance of that sad day when I heard of the death of one who, in due course of nature, was destined to rule over this nation, and who from childhood to womanhood had won the love of all. T was dining at the Equerries' table at Windsor Castle on the evening of the 6th of November, when, just before breaking up, a servant entered hastily, and in an agitated manner communicated the melancholy intelligence that the Princess was no more. To describe the feelings of all present would be impossible, they could hardly realize the ftict. It appeared so awful, so sudden, so strange, so unexpected, that for many moments the silence was not broken ; at length one and all with grief depicted on their countenances left the room to ruminate over an event which would cast a gloom over the entire realm. Upon reaching the cavalry barracks where I was quartered, I found the officers still indulging in " potations pottle deep " of fiery port wine. It was a guest night ; mirth and good humour prevailed, but no sooner had I com- municated the death of the poor Princess than the party broke up. Let me now return to the youthful da^^s of the departed Princess. During^ Her Eoval Hio-hness's studies the most scrupulous attention was paid to her health, and a temporary residence by the seaside was recom- mended as likely to prove highly beneficial to her. Bognor at that period was a small, quiet town, and thither the Princess repaired with her establishment BOGNOR. 3 A mansion belonainof to Mr. "Wilson was taken for a certain number of years, and here for a considerable time she enjoyed unalloyed happiness. She had not resided at Bognor more than a fortnight, when some fears were expressed of the dangerous consequences which might result to Her Royal Highness from the vicinity of her mansion to a depot for soldiers afflicted with ophthalmia, who occupied small wooden huts on an adjoining green. This barrack has long since ceased to exist. A Commission was appointed to iilvestigate the possibility of persons residing in the neighbourhood being afflicted with the disease. Not one case of that nature had ever occurred ; and the physicians reported that the contagion did not extend to persons who were not in immediate contact with the afflicted. Without enterino; at this time into the truth of that report, there can be no doubt that a more suitable place might have been selected for the temporary residence of the heiress- presumptive to the throne, than one in the heart of which a depot for invalids was situated. Warwick House at Worthing had been for some short time occupied by the Princess Charlotte, but for private reasons that house was rehnquished, and Bognor was fixed upon as the future summer home of Her Royal Highness. It was in this retreat that she enjoyed that liberty and that degree of happiness which the forms and etiquette of a sojourn in the metropolis had denied her. It was here that the native joyousness of her disposition burst forth; it was here that she felt herself un- fettered by the tedious ceremonies attendant on B 2 4 CEI.EEKITIES I HAVE KNOWN. her elevated rank ; and her eye beamed with spark- ling lustre as she gazed on that ocean on wdiich the bulwarks of ber nation rode, bearing the thunder of their vengeance on the foes of her country, and triumphantly defending her shore from all ruthless invaders. The condescension of her manners, the affability of her conversation, the ease and freedom with which she received and returned the visits of the neighbouring gentry, the ready access to her presence on all occasions when suffering, indigence, or sudden misfortune had a claim upon her bounty, endeared her to all classes. Dressed with the utmost simplicity, often have I met her tripping down to Richardson's, the baker's, about the time when she knew his buns were ready, and entering the shop would sit down and partake of them with all the gusto of an unsophisticated school-girl, talking to the worthy baker about his business, as if she took a deep interest in the concern. Then, accompanied by Lady De Clifford, she would mount her low phaeton, drawn by two beautiful grey ponies, and full of youthful mischief she would drive into a field belonging to Sir Thomas Troubridge, which happened to be very uneven and full of knolls and ruts, over which she would drive at an awful pace to the detri- ment of the springs and the great annoyance of her companion, who, like Mrs. Hardcastle in " She Stoops to Conquer," was "jolted to a jelly," and who uttered many a shriek at the danger to which she fancied she was exposed; to all of which, and to the most ardent expostulations, Her Royal High- ness laughingly exclaimed, " Nothing like exercise. STORIES OF HER UHILDHOOD. O my lady, notliinglike exercise ! " The Princess took particular pleasure iu frequenting tlie beach ^ rambling among the then famed Bognor rocks, and collecting seaweed of every description. Many a necklace did she form of the beautiful black berries that were there found. The heart of the Princess was in the right place. She gave freely, and there was not a poor man, woman, or child that came under her notice that went away empty- handed. During her residence at Bognor an officer of long standing in the army was arrested for a small sum ; being at a distance from his friends, and being thereby unable to procure bail, he was about to be dragged from his family to be incarcerated iu Arundel jail. The circumstance came to the know- ledge of the Princess, who, with that high and generous feeling which characterized all her actions, exclaimed, "I'll be his bail;" and then suddenly recollecting herself, she inquired the amount of the debt, which being told her, she continued, "There, take this to him ; it is hard that a gallant soldier, who has exposed his life in the field of battle, should ever experience the rigours of a prison ! " A story is told of the Princess which occurred during her early childhood. When residing with her governess, a medical practitioner (in those days called an apothecary) was in the habit of daily visiting the house, much to the horror of Her Royal Highness, who dreaded to have to undergo the usual panacea for all ills — a nauseous black draught. *' There's old Thompson again," she declared, " I wish he would stay away, his great pleasure seems b CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. to be to close the servant-maids." " Mr. Thomp- son !" said the governess, " it's highly improper in Your Royal Highness to drop the Mr., and if it happens again after so many repeated warnings, I shall be compelled to send you to bed." A few days afterwards " Monsieur Tonson" was seen again ap- proaching, dressed in the orthodox medical dress of that day, a somewhat sombre suit, black coat, waist- coat and short breeches, silk stockings, silver buckles, powdered head, and a Malacca cane in hand. " Here's old Thompson again," shouted the Princess, in the exuberance of spirits, ** Here's old Thompson ! Thompson ! Thompson ! and now I'm ready to be sent to bed." Whether after this "touch of nature" the threat was carried out deponeth knoweth not. The Princess's name was first brought promin- ently into notice by the following lines from Byron's pen : — "Weep, daughter of a royal line, A sire's disgrace— a realm's decay: — Ah ! happy if each tear of thine Could wash a father's faults away ! Weep ! for thy tears are virtue's tears, Auspicious to these suffering isles, And be each drop, in future years, Eepaid thee by thy people's smiles." Every right mind will regret the perverted genius of this talented poet, who could thus indulge in the personal malice contained in the above lines ; so strong was the feeling of all lovers of order and decency that it drew forth the following rejoinder. *' Lord Byron is a father ; he has an only daughter. A SEASON OF GAIETY. ( since whose birth he has been separated from his wife ; and perhaps his lordship might now be more conscious of the extreme impropriety of his conduct, by the feehug which would probably be excited were he to read tlie adaptation of his own verses to his, and to his infant daughter's present circumstances : — " Weep, daughter of a noble line, Thy sire's disgrace — thy hope's decay : — Ah ! happy if each tear of thine Could wash a father's faults away ! Weep ! for thy tears are guiltless tears. O'er him whom lawless love beguiles ; And be each drop, in future years, Repaid thee by tby mother's smiles." The Spring of 1814 had commenced, and I, "a youth" — which is only a more civil word for *' hobbledehoy " — of fourteen years of age, was about to set forth in the flowery path of the world ; for at that time the blossoms of life had not shed one leaf, nor were the thorns which cluster round the stem of every destiny apparent to my sight. The season was one of the greatest gaiety. Napoleon had abdicated the throne of the world. The Bour- bons had been restored ; Louis XA'^III. had quitted Enofland — the warehouse for bonded sovereis^ns — "to relieve France," so said Berthier, " from the weight of misfortunes under which she had for five-and- twenty years been groaning." Kings, emperors, princes, potentates flocked to London, which was thronged with the votaries of fashion and pleasure. Everybody was driving out, dining out, supping out, hunting the royal and imperial lions; balls, fetes. 8 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. masquerades, illuminations, reviews naval and military, plays, operas, formed the order of the day and uiglit. As Byron wrote to his tried friend and biographer, Thomas Moore : — "The papers have told you, no doubt, of the fusses, Hhc fetes, and the gapings to get at these Husses, — Of His Majesty's suite, up from coachman to Hetman, And what dignity decks the flat face of the great man. " The Czar's look, I own, was much brighter and brisker. But then he is sadly deficient in whisker, And wore but a starless blue coat, and in kersey — Mere breeches whisked round in a waltz with the Jersey, Who, lovely as ever, seem'd just as delighted With Majesty's presence as those she invited." The Countess of Jersey, above alluded to, was one of the loveliest women of her day, and of her it may be said that " her outward graces were placed about the thoughts and counsels of her h.eart." On the 5th of February the Prince Regent gave a ball at Carlton House, upon which occasion the Princess Charlotte was to make her first appearance in public. I had had the good fortune to receive my commission as cornet in the Blues during the pre- vious year, and was at a private tutor's at Donning- ton, near Newbury. Although I was not what the young ladies called " regularly out," being honoured with an invitation to the ball, I easily persuaded my parents to allow me to order my dress uniform — uniforms or court suits being indispensable. The dress of the old "Blues" of that day would sur- prise the present members of that distinguished corps. It consisted of a swallow-tail coat, with laro-e red facings, collar and cuffs elaborately CAKLTON HOUSE. . 9 covered with gold lace, epaulettes, wliite kerseymere breeches, white silk stockings, evening shoes, or " pumps " as they were called, and a huge cocked hat and feathers. The ball was fully attended, waltzes and quadrilles were not then in prospective existence ; so it opened with an English country dance led off by the Duke of Cumberland and Princess Mary, to the tune of " I'll gang nae mair to yon toun." The second dance was led off by the Duke of Clarence and the Princess Charlotte of Wales. It is rather a curious coincidence that I had the honour of dancing in the same country dance with the Princess Charlotte of Wales, then about to be affianced to the Prince of Orange, and that in after-years I had the privilege of forming one of a quadrille in whicli her present INIajesty, then Princess Victoria, danced with another Prince of Orange, who, according to rumour, was an aspirant for the hand of his royal partner of that evening. At the period I write of, Carlton House was the centre of attraction, and happy were those who had the good fortune to be admitted within its precincts. It stood in Pall Mall, facing the Guards' memorial in Waterloo-place ; this building gave rise to the following jeu d'esprit. Carlton House was distinguished by a row of pillars in the front; and York House, now Dover House, Whitehall, then the residence of the Duke of York, by a circular court, which still remains. These two buildings being described to Lord North, who was blind during the latter part of his life, he facetiously remarked, " Then the Duke of York has 10 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. been sent to the Round House, and the Prince of Wales put in the Pillory ! " To provide as far as possible for the succession to the throne, it had now been determined that the Princess should marry. The person fixed upon as her husband was the young Prince of Orange, who was recomroended by his long residence in this country, by his acquaintance with the genius of our Government, with the habits and manners of the people, and by the connection between his House and the reigning family of Great Britain. In addi- tion to these recommendations, he was favourably known to the British public by the courage he had displayed in the campaigns of the Peninsula, under Wellington. While the negotiations for this union were in progress, and at the time when the Allied Sovereigns were in London, the Princess of Wales entered into a long correspondence with the Queen respecting the appearance of the former at Court, which terminated on the part of Her Majesty intimating the impossibility of her receiving Her Royal Highness at the drawing-rooms. The celebrated drawing-room, of which so many high expectations had been formed, on account of the peculiar circumstances connected with it, was at length held, and the Princess Charlotte of Wales, for the first time, made her appear- ance in public. It may here amuse my lady readers if I describe Her Royal Highness's dress, which consisted of an elegant petticoat of rich white satin, with a superb border of the same, a wreath of silver laurel leaves, tastefully intermingled SUIT OF THE PKINCR OF ORANGE. H with white roses ; draperies of riclily-embroidered patent lace, in silver lama, with a superb border formed in festoons, and ornamented in an elegant style with wreaths of silver cords and tassels ; train of rich striped and figured silver blond lace, orna- mented with beautiful diamonds ; head-dress a pro- fusion of the most splendid diamonds and ostrich feathers ; necklace, ear-rings, armlets, and bracelets to correspond. At the close of the drawing-room, on her Royal Highness leaving the Palace, the Prince of Orange handed the Princess Charlotte to her carriage, and afterwards dined with the royal family at Carlton House upon the most familiar and friendly footing. It does not, however, appear that the Prince of Orange was ever very acceptable to his intended consort. The real objections of the Princess remain in obscurity, though many conjectures were formed and assertions ventured upon the subject. She certainly expressed a strong unwillingness to leave the country, especially at a time when her mother required her countenance and consolation. Many of the friends of the heir to the throne of Holland exerted themselves on behalf of the now discon- solate suitor, all of which, appeals were replied to with the utmost good-humour. On one occasion, the only reply she made to some very warm remon- strances was, that she thought matters were getting very Jiotf and she would let in a little fresh air to cool them ; and when some confidential personage about the household remonstrated respecting her refusal of the proposed match, she laughingly 12 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWM. replied that she was afraid lier Irish friends would accuse her of keeping an Orange Lodge. These and a variety of other anecdotes, though apparently of little interest in themselves, were very current at the time, and are now introduced to mark the bias of the Princess's character and mind — trifles often develop character when greater events are wanting. It was generally understood that, through the instrumentality of the Duchess of Oldenburg, afterwards Queen of Wiirtemberg, the match with the Prince of Orange was broken off ; and there can be no doubt that the Duchess was the means of introducing the Princess to her future consort. Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, who eventually proposed and was accepted. The preparations for the marriage went on with uncommon activity, and the 2nd of May was the day finally appointed for the consummation. At this time it is said that no less than five hundred and seventy-four applications were made for the appointment of lady of the bedchamber, and two hundred and seventy-nine for that of lady in waiting. The above gave rise to the following epigram : — *' Eight hundred and fifty-three maidens fair, To wait on the Princess their wishes declare ; Say what other Court throughout Europe can boast Of virgins so noble and numerous a host ? If all in a body they should wait upon her, No doubt they'll be styled, the ' Fair Legion of Honour.' " Again thinking that my female readers may WEDDING DRESS OF THE PRINCESS. ] 3 take an interest in the dresses worn bj the Princess Charlotte on her wedding day, and at the first drawing room, I give the following particulars : — The wedding dress was composed of a most magnificent silver laaia on net, over a rich silver tissue slip, with a superb border of silver lama, embroidered at the bottom, forming shells and bouquets above the border ; a most elegant fulness tastefully designed in festoons of rich silver lama and finished with a very brilliant rollio of lama ; the body and sleeves to correspond, trimmed with a most beautiful point Brussels lace, in a peculiarly elegant style; the mantna of rich silver tissue, lined with white satin, trimmed round with a most superb silver lama border in shells to correspond with the dress, and fastened in front with a most brilliant and costly ornament of diamonds. The whole dress surpassed all conception in the brilhancy and rich- ness of its effect. Head-dress a wreath of rosebuds and leaves, composed of the most superb brilliants. At the drawing-room, held shortly afterwards, the Princess appeared in the same dress. The anniversary of the " marriage of tlie soul" of the Princess Charlotte with Prince Leopold was observed with great festivity at Claremont, wdiere a great number of the nobility and gentry were in- vited. The return of this auspicious day was sio-- nalized by a " happy thought" of their chaplain. Doctor Short, who found means to convey an inti- mation of the unalloyed felicity in which the royal pair had passed the first year of their married life. Before submitting the brief particulars of the anec- 14 GELEBKITIES I HAVE KNOWN. dote to my readers, it is necessary to premise that the whole was an allusion to the well-known ancient custom, which is thus described in Grove's " Anti- quities :" — " Among the jocular tenures of England, none have been more talked of than the Dunmow ' Flitch of Bacon ;' by whom, or at what period, this custom w^as instituted, is nncertaiu, but it is generally ascribed to one of the family of Fitzwalter. A similar custom is observed at the manor of Wichenor, in Staffordshire, where corn, as well as bacon, was given to the happy pair." The parties claiming the flitch were obliged to take the following oath, kneeling on two sharp- pointed stones in the churchyard of the Priory of Dunmow, where the monks of the convent attended, usino* many ceremonies and much singing, in order to lengthen out the time of their painful situation : — " You shall swear by the custom of confession, That you ne'er made nuptial transgression ; Not since you were married man and wife, By household broils, or by contentions strife. Or otherwise, in bed or at board Otfeuded each other in deed or in word ; Or since the parish clerk said ' amen,' Wished yourselves unmarried again ; Or in a twelvemonth and a day, Kepeuted not in thought, or any way. But continued true in thought and desire As when you joined hands in holy quire. If to these conditions without all fear. Of your own account you will freely swear; A whole gammon of bacon you shall receive And bear it hence with love and good leave ; For this is our custom at Dunmow well known. Though the pleasure be ours, the bacon's your own." Bearing in mind the particulars of this ancient THR PRINCESS AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE. 15 custom, I have merely to state that early on the moruiag of the anniversary of their nuptials, the Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold were sur- prised by the receipt of a large parcel neatly packed, which was brought to Claremont by an unknown messenger, desiring that it might be immediately presented to their Royal Highnesses ; who, upon its being opened, were greatly amused and not a little delighted to find that it contained a flitch or o:ammon of bacon, referring to the ancient usage already de- tailed, in a congratulatory note from their pious and devoted chaplain. Dr. Short. The Princess Charlotte and her consort were great patrons of the Drama ; at their request Mrs. Siddons was prevailed upon to appear once more before the public in the character of " Lady Mac- beth." Before the day fixed for the performance, Her Royal Highness was taken ill and unable to attend. It, however, took place later, and the tragedy, which was splendidly performed, seemed to interest the royal party deeply. Shortly after- wards, the public were again gratified by the appear- ance of the royal pair at Covent Garden Theatre. It was an evening set apart for a charitable fund, and Mrs. Siddons performed the character of " Queen Katherine," in " King Henry VIII." Every passage of the play which would bear a complimentary construction was eagerly seized by the audience. That scene in the second act, where the Lord Chamberlain says of Anne Boleyn, whom he has been soundino: conceruinof the Kinu''s inclinations, — 16 CELEBKITIES I HAVE KNOWN. " Who knows yefc But from this lady may proceed a gem To lighten all this Isle?" was instantly applied, aud received by the most rapturous shouts. Nothing could exceed the conjugal felicity of the newly married couple, when, free from the pomp and state of court, they enjoyed a certain degree of privacy at Claremont. The Princess was particu- larly fond of flowers, and hours were passed in the beautiful gardens. " There they would sit, and pass the hour, And pity kingdoms and their kings, And smile at all their shining things. Their toys of state, and images of power." On the J 8th of May the Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold honoured the Opera House with their presence, and a few nights afterwards they visited Drury Lane Theatre to witness Kean in " Bertram.'' The audience were so eager to see the royal pair, that it gave Prince Leopold an ex- cellent specimen of the degree of freedom allowed in a British theatre. His Serene Highness, not comprehending the object of their hissings, and cries of " Stage Box" proceeding from the audience, was informed by the Princess that it was nothing less than a positive demand that they should show themselves more conspicuously to the impatient but loyal multitude. The Princess and her consort in consequence rose immediately and appeared in the front of the box, where they stood some time, to the great gratification of the whole audience, among VEESES ON THE ROYAL NUPTIALS. 17 whom quiet was instantly restored. The entire company of Drury Lane Theatre, decorated with white favours, in honour of the recent royal nup- tials, sang " God save the King" with the following additional stanzas : — "Oh! Thou omniscient Power, In this auspicious hour, Bless Thou the Bride ! List to a nation's voice; Grateful it doth rejoice And prays thee with one voice — God bless the bride ! " Grant thy Almighty aid, Which ever grac'd the Maid, Wait on the Bride, Oh ! let thy precepts too Ever her heart renew Honour and grace endue Charlotte the Brid^. " Long may the Noble Line, W hence she descended, shine In Charlotte the Bride ! Grant it perpetuate, And ever make it great; On Leopold blessings wait. And Charlotte his Bride." The above verses, though breathing a spirit of affectionate loyalty, are too much of the Catnach school, and were more worthy to be sung by some mendicant musician from St. Giles, than at the aristocratic gatherings at the Opera House and Drury Lane Theatre. On the 24th, the royal pair honoured Covent Gardeu Theatre with their presence to see " The Jealous Wife," and again on the 27th, to hear VOL. 1. c \. 18 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Brahara as Apollo in "Midas." On the 29th, the Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold were present at the Concert of Ancient Music, occupying the Directors' Box. The concert was under the direction of the Earl of Darnley, and the first part was principally from Dryden's "Alexander's Feast." The chorus was so appropriate to the occasion of the visit of the newly married couple that a burst of enthusiam followed the chorus : — " Happy, happy, happy pair, None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave. Deserve the fair." During the Winter of 1816, the Prince Leopold and Princess Charlotte visited Brighton ; here the loyalty of the populace was so great that Town- send, the Bow Street police-officer, was obliged to be sent for from London to clear the way between the Steyue and the Pavilion. The Princess was thoroughly English in her habits and tastes, as the following anecdote will show. During the above visit to the " Queen of watering places," a beautiful cap, formed of Brussels point lace and other costly foreign materials, from an eminent dressmaker re- siding at Brighton, was presented at the Pavilion for Her Royal Highness's inspection. The Princess appeared much struck with the form and elegance of the article, but at length ordered it to be returned ; observing that, had the materials with which it was composed been solely of British manufacture instead of foreio^n, so much did she admire it that she THE princess's TWENTY-FIRbT BIRTHDAY. 19 would have been the purchaser. The above iucident proved how deeply the then prevaihng^ distresses of the poor employed in the British manufactures had impressed Her Royal Highness's compassionate heart. The twenty-first birthday of the Princess Char- lotte was celebrated at Esher, at Clareraont, and at Brighton, by a general festivity. If the humble inhabitants of the small village of Esher were unable to vie with the more wealthy ones of Brighton in their S])lendid illuminations, their loyalty was equally great. The morning was ushered in with the ringing of bells, which re- peated their merry peals throughout the whole of the day; a band of music paraded the streets from noon till night playing patriotic airs, and the whole of the village presented a scene of universal happi- ness and joy. The Princess gave an additional donation of £100 to the poor on this auspicious occasion. The festivities at Claremont were fol- lowed by a concert, at which Madame Fodor, Signer Yercellini, and Signer Naldi attended. To this entertainment I, having met Prince Leopold at the Congress of Vienna, was honoured with an invitation. " Misfortunes never come singly," they say, and that proverb is occasionally applicable to good fortune, for, in addition to the above, I received a command to attend a ball given by the Prince Regent at Brighton. As railways did not then exist, and as it was impossible to be in both places at once, I was left in the position of the king in " Bombastes Furioso." c 2 20 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. " So wben two feasts whereat there's nought to pay Fall unpropitious on the selfsame day, The hungry cit each invitation views, And knows not which to take or which refuse, To stay from either he is very loth And sighs to think he cannot dine at both." Of course I was bound to attend the Prince's com- mand, and at nine o'clock on the evening of the ^th of January, 1817, I found myself in the Paviliou at Brighton. The Prince Regent had issued an order that such articles as were the immediate manufacture of this country should be worn on this occasion, and this order was scrupulously attended to, for neither foreign silks, nor even foreign lace, nor foreign materials, were seen at the ball. The ladies who were British in their dress appeared to the greatest advantage. The ball commenced at ten o'clock in the new magni- ficent ball-room, w^hich was splendidly illuminated. The Duke of Clarence led off an English country dance with Lady Charlotte Ponsonby, followed by Lord Clive Lord Castlereagh Mr. C. Percy . Captain C. Whyte Mr. Leach Sir G. Wood Sir Henry Ryecroft Sir Tyrwhitt Jones Miss J. Floyd. Honourable Miss Twisselton. Lady Emily Bathurst. Miss Lucretia ShifTiier. Lady Maria Meade. Honourable Miss Seymour. Miss Bowen. Hon. Miss Onslow. About twenty other couple followed, among them " last but not least " in his own estimation, Lord William Lennox and Miss H. Shiffner. In the evening, between these national dances, several quad'rilles, then novelties, were performed by Mrs. FESTIVE SCENES. 21 Patterson, late Madame Jerome Buonaparte, two Misses Caton, and Miss Floyd. Among the waltzers were Prince Esterhazy and Lady Maria Meade, Lord Castlereagh and Lady Charlotte Cholmondeley, Sir Edmund Nagle and Miss White, Mr. Lloyd and the Honourable Miss Lake, Sir Godfrey Webster and. Miss Shiffner. Having practised both quadrilles and waltzes at Paris under Monsieur Deschamps I was able to take part in the two last named, dances, which had only been recently imported from France. Supper was served at two o'clock, and the dancing was kept up with great spirit until five o'clock, terminating in the true old Englisli style with Sir Roger de Coverley, led off by the Duke of Clarence and Miss Caton. It is impossible to recall these festive scenes, these birthday rejoicings, without feeling a deep interest in the fate of her whom her relatives and friends then little thought (and as little did the Princess herself think), they should so soon be called upon to mourn. Early in February the Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold arrived at Camelford House to be present at the celebration of the Queen's birthday. On account of the disturbed state of the British manufacturers, the Prince Regent again commanded notices to be given in the " Gazette " that those who attended Court should appear in dresses of British manufacture. His Royal Highness not only exerted himself in every way possible to carry the above into etfect, but subscribed most liberally to the charities that had sprung up in consequence of ^1: CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. the state of the times ; moreover, he contributed £50,000 for the general good of those of his future subjects who were suffering from a stagnation of trade. Again I give a description of the Princess Charlotte of Saxe-Coburof's dress : — "A rich white satin petticoat, with most elegant gold lama draperies, magnificently embroidered, and tastefully looped with a very rich gold bullion cord and tassels, and finished with two superb flounces of gold lama, bordered in festoons; a manteau of gold tissue, most beautifully embroidered in rose- buds, and trimmed with very rich gold lace; head- dress of the choicest brilliants, with rich ostrich plume." Camelford House being extremely inconvenient, the Prince and Princess were in treaty for Marl- borough House, which was then estimated to be worth £4,000 a-year. The Duke had consented to take £3,000 per annum for five years, but the royal pair declined unless the period could be extended to twelve, and the negotiation terminated. It was during the month of April that the nation was gratified by the announcement that the Princess Charlotte w^as in that situation which promised additional security in the prospect of an heir to the House of Brunswick. Alas ! how soon were all these flattering prospects put an end to. From the above period up to the time of the Princess's illness, which terminated in her death, she gave many musical parties at Claremont, and attended a grand fete given by the Dowager Countess of Cardigan in honour of the anniversary GKAND FETE. 2o of the birth of the Prince Regent, at her house on Hichmond Hill, and which was thus described in the fashionable journal of that day :— " This fete, which was one of the most splendid entertainments ever given, terminated with a dance, daring which Her Majesty amused herself at a game of commerce. At eleven o'clock the Prince Regent called for his favourite country-dance, * I'll gang nae mair lo yon toun,' after which the party broke up." I pass over the melancholy scenes that occurred at Claremont during the poor Princess's last illness, during which period the solicitude of the public mind was exceedingly great ! 24 CHAPTER 11. DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE — GEIEF OF THE NATION- FUNERAL OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS. " Pallida mors asquo pulsat pede paupernm tabernas Regunique turrcs." " Pale Death with equal foot strikes wide the door Of royal halls and hovels of the poor." THE death of the Princess Charlotte filled the whole British Empire with j^rief, dismay, and mourning. At no period, perhaps, in the whole compass of our history, has the demise of the pre- sumptive heir to the throne produced so poignant a sense of sorrow, so general a feeling of despondency. The hopes of the nation were blasted, the expected mother of a line of kings, the beloved Princess, and the happy wife, was a lifeless corpse. No awful ceremony on the demise of any of our rulers, or of any branches of their illustrious families — the funeral of the late Prince Consort, perhaps, excepted — has been marked by so general and unequivocal a testimony of unfeigned sorrow and regret. The parochial churches and the differ- ent chapels, both of the Estahlishment and of the Dissenters, exhibited the signs of public grief by the NATIONAL SORROW. 25 covering of their pulpits, desks, and galleries witli the sad emblems of mourning. Besides the shops beiug shut up with the strictness equal to the obser- vance of the sacred Sabbath, the ordinary business of the town was suspended, and every private house had its window-shutters entirely closed. All that custom ordains as the sign of external sorrow was to be seen everywhere in the public streets, in the parks, and in the most retired and obscure parts of the metropolis. Unconfined to those with whom a change of dress is no consideration, the same sentiment operated with great effect upon thousands whose condition approaches closely to difficulty and poverty. Among these humbler classes there were few who could find the means of procuring any black that did not put on the visible demonstration of their unaffected sorrow. The Courts of Law, the Custom House, the Royal Exchange, the public offices were closed. Orders were sent to all the dockyards to prohibit the usual transaction of business. British vessels, and those of all other nations, hoisted their colours half-mast high, and on the Thames, and at the different seaporrs, minute-guns were fired during the nio^ht. How fully were the following stanzas realized : — • " Hark ! forth from the abyss a voice proceeds, A long low distant murmur of dread sound, Such as arises when a nation bleeds With sorao deep and immediate wound; Through storm and darkness j-awns the rending ground, The gulph is thick with phantoms, but the chief Seems royal still, though with her head discrown'd. And pale, but lovely, with maternal grief She clasps a babe, to whom her breast yields no reliaf 26 ' CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. " Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where ai't thou ? Fond hope of many nations, art thou dead ? Could not the grave forget thee, and lay low Some less majestic, less beloved head ? In the sad midnight, while thy heart still bled. The mother of a moment, o'er thy boy. Death hush'd that pang for ever; with thee fled The present happiness and promised joy Which fill'd the imperial isles so full it seemed to cloy. " Peasants bring forth in safety — Can it be, Oh, thou who wert so happy, so adored — Those who weep not for kings shall weep for tliee, And Freedom's heart, grown heavy, cease to bound Her many griefs for oxe; for she had pour'd Her orisons for thee, and o'er thy head, Beheld her Iris. — Thou, too, lonely lord. And desolate consort — vainly wer't thou wed ! The husband of a year ! the father of the dead !" The removal of the bodies of the Princess and the royal infant from Claremont was fixed for three o'clock on Tuesday evening, the ISth. The hearse and the attending carriages, in one of which sat the Prince of Saxe Coburg, were escorted to Egham by a party of the 10th Prince of Wales' Own Hussars, where they were relieved by the Royal Horse Guards (Blues), the funeral procession arriving at Windsor shortly after midnight. The corpse of the infant was interred in the Royal Cemetery at St. George's Chapel. The hearse then proceeded to the Lower Lodge, where it remained until the following evening. At eight o'clock on Wednesday evening the mournful caval- cade proceeded to the last abode of departed royalty, escorted by a party of my regiment, the Royal Horse Guards (Blues) under my command. The whole procession from the Lower Lodge to St. FUNERAL OF THE PRINCESS. Ii7 George's Chapel was flanked by the SrdEegimeDt of Foot, uow the Scots Fusiher Guards, every man bearing a flambeau. Nothing could be more solemn, more impressive than the service inside the Chapel, for being on duty I was admitted. The choristers chanted "I know that my Redeemer liveth," and Dr. Blake's anthem from the 16th Psalm, "I have set God always before me." At the conclusion of the mournful ceremony, the " Dead March in Saul" was played upon the organ. Peace to her manes ! Virtues such as hers may " walk through the valley and shadow of death and fear no evil " — the stay and stafl' of Israel was with her. At Drury Lane Theatre, which was re-opened on Friday, the 21st, and Saturday, the 22nd Novem- ber, for a charitable purpose, the greatest respect was paid to the memory of the illustrious dead, by allowing no performance to take place, except a most solemn and appropriate selection of music. Upon this occasion the theatre was hung with funeral emblems ; the pillars were entwined with bands of black cloth, Avhich were secured at the capitals by knots of white ribbons. The box usually occupied by the Princess Charlotte was hung with black; the draperies and front being of the same, and over it was an escutcheon with the arms of Prince Leopold and his Consort, the latter in a sable field, and ornamented with true lovers' knots in white ribbon. The effect of the whole was extremely aff'ecting, and operated very perceptibly upon the audience, who, during the whole evening, manifested a state of mind highly creditable to the national character. 28 CELEBRITIKS 1 HAVE KNOWN. The music selected by Sir. George Smart, and performed uader his direction, was most judici- ously cLoseri, every part of it beinpr adapted to the occasion. It consisted chiefly of Mozart's "Requiem" (one of the noblest efforts of human genius), the sublirue Funeral Anthem of Handel, and the last act of the " ^Messiah," with the *' Dead March in Saul," and a few songs intermixed. The performers wh.o excited the chief attention were Mrs. Salmon and Miss Goodall. The former had evidently resolved to exert all her astonishing and delightful powers to heighten the effect of this performance, and her success was undisputed. Miss Goodall's unaffected simpli- city, her correct taste, and beautiful melodious voice were never more apparent. She sang witli great pathos, and seemed to be impressed by a recollection of the kind notice she received at Claremont upon one of the very last occasions that music and cheerfulness resounded within the walls of that now melancholy mansion. After the " Dead March in Saul," the following Monod}', written by Thomas Campbell, was spoken by Mrs. Bartley : — " Britons! although our task is biU to show The scenes and passions of tictitions woe, Think not we come this night without a part In that deep sorrow ot the public heart, Wliich like a shade hath darken'd every place, And moisten'd with a tear the manliest face. The bell is scarcely hush'd in Windsor's piles, that toH'da requiem through the solemn aisles. For Her, the Royal Flow'r low laid in dust That was your fairest hope, your fondest trust, LINES BY THOMAS CAMPBELL. 29 Unconscious of the doom, we dreamt, alas ! That e'en these walls, ere many months should pass, (Which but return sad accents for her now) Perhaps had witness'd her benignant brow, Cheer'd by the voice ye would have rais'd on high In bursts of British love and loyalty. But, Britain, now thy chief, thy people mourn. And Claremont's home of love is left forlorn ; There, where the happiest of the happy dwelt, The 'scutcheon glooms — and Royalty hath felt A grief that every bosom feels its own — The blessing of a father's heart o'erthrown — The most belov'd and most devoted bride, Torn from an agonized husband's side, Who, long as memory holds her seat, shall view That speechless, more than spoken, last adieu ! When the fix'd eye long look'd connubial faitL, And beam'd affection in the trance of death. Sad was the pomp that yesternight beheld, As with the mourner's heart the anthem swell'd. While torch succeeding torch illumin'd each high And banner'd arch of England's chivalry — The rich-plum'd canopy — the gorgeous hall — The sacred march — and sable-vested wall — These were not rites of inexpressive show. But hallow'd as the types of deep felt woe, Daughter of England ! for a nation's sighs, A nation's heart went with thine obsequies : And oft shall Time revert a look of grief On thine existence, beautiful and brief. Fair Spirit ! send ihy blessing from above To realms where thou art canoniz'd by love, Give to a father's, husband's, pleading mind, The peace that angels lend to human kind ; — To us, who in thy lov'd remembrance feel A sorrowing, yet a soul-ennobling zeal, A loyalty that touches all the best And loftiest principles of England's breast ; — Still may thy name speak concord from the tomb, Still in the Muse's breath thy memory bloom — They shall describe thy life, thy form pourtray ; But all the love that mourns thee swept away, 'Tis not in language or expressive arts To paint- -ye feel it, Britons, in your hearts." 30 SCHOLASTIC. DR. DODD. CHAPTER III. WESTMINSTEE SCHOOL IN BYGONE DATS — "THE NEW BOl" — A BROSURE — PRACTICAL JOKES— FAGGING — MY MASTER — OLD TOTHILL FIELDS — A VISIT TO RICHARD AND MISS HUBBERT — "SLENDER billy" — A TREACHEROUS FRIEND— REPRIMANDED BY DOCTOR DODD — SPORT FROM WESTMINSTER — THE EASTER MONDAY EPPING HUNT. " Ye scenes of my childhood, whose loved recollection Embitters the present, compared with the past ; Where science first dawn'd on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form'd, too romantic to last ; " Where fancy yet joys to trace the resemblance Of comrades in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne'er fading remembrance, Which rests in the bosom, though hope is denied ! "Again I revisit the fields where we sported. The stream where we swam, and the spot where we fought. The school where, loud warn'd by the bell, we resorted. To pore o'er the precepts by pedagogues taught." BYHON. AMONG the celebrities of my early days was Doctor Dodd, familiarly called " Jemmy Dodd," at that time tutor at Mrs. Packharness's — " Old Mother Pack's"— Great Dean's Yard, West- DR. DODD. 31 minster. Here I am reminded of that melancholy circumstance which occurred in 1777, and deprived the inhabitants of London of one of the greatest orators in the cause of benevolence they had ever possessed, I allude to the ignominious death of Lord Chesterfield's tutor, the unfortunate Dr. Dodd, whose conduct cannot but be allowed to have been inconsistent beyond parallel ; a teacher of the most exalted benevolence, one who practised it to the degree he taught ; and yet a luxurious spendthrift, and a violator of the penal laws of his country, to support unjustifiable extravagance and splendour oflivinof. When we reflect on the laro^e sums of money his exertions collected for the relief of those who found, and still find, a refuge in the Magdalen Hospital, an establishment which owes its origin, (in conjunction with Mr. Dingley), to Dr. Dodd; •when we think of his labours in promoting the Society for the relief of prisoners confined for small debts, and besides those, the fruits of his preach- ings on numerous occasions ; we cannot but lament that mercy was withheld which a nation solicited. Here let me give an extract from a sermon preached by Dr. Dodd in the year 1771 : — " God, the great Father of the world, of His immense bounty, has created you a reasonable being, has given you powers and faculties elevated far above the animal world, capable of the noblest enlargement, capable of the knowledge of Him, of nature, of yourselves ; capable of producing all those fruits of good science and good practice, which are the dignity, the ornament, the preroga- 32 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. tive of your race. And can you weakly and vainly suppose that there is no duty incumbent upon you to improve and to enlaro^e those faculties ? If so, they are given you in vain; and you are insensible of that which is the distinguishing excellence of your nature." Sad it is to reflect that his practise and his precepts did not go hand in hand. His was a singular case, — but enough — Justice required his life ; and Death, the portion of forgery, closed the scene. In his dying apology for his past errors, he declared that he was led from reli- gious strictness by the fatal delusions of show, and the delights of voluptuousness ; never attending to the calls of frugality, or the needful minuteness of painful economy. "Vanity and pleasure," he says, " into which I plunged, required expense dispro- portionate to my income ; expense brought on me distress ; and importunate distress urged me to temporary fraud." Greater influence was scarcely ever exerted to save the life of a criminal, than that which was made for Dr. Dodd. Besides a petition from the City of London to George III., there was another from the Magdalen Charity to the Queen, and a third from upwards of 20,000 inhabitants of Westminster, as well as letters from Dr. Johnson and other eminent individuals to in- fluential persons at Court. Some obloquy was cast on the King for turning a deaf ear to these petitions, but however anxious he might have been to season justice with mercy, there was but one line of duty open to him — namely, to take a INTRODUCTION TO MY TUTOR. 33 dispassionate view of the circumstances of the case, which was that of a man who, with greater inducements to keep the path of virtue than the generahty of men possessed, in the advantages of education and the nature of his profession, had com- mitted a crime for which his Hfe was forfeited to the laws of his country. Was aggravation of guilt then to be made a plea for the remission of punish- ment ? What rendered it, however, more impera- tive for the Sovereiofn to let the law take its course, was the fact that similar applications for mercy had the preceding year been made for the two brothers Perreau, the first persons covicted under the New Forgery Act, more especially for the younger, who was considered as a dupe rather than as a criminal. His Majesty was inclined to pardon him, but the Privy Council thought that one brother could not justly be reprieved if the other suffered, and both were left to their fate ; hence, therefore, the King was impelled to withhold his privilege of mercy from Dr. Dodd. It is well known that Lord Mansfield observed, when the case came under the considera- ion of the Council, that, " If Dodd should be par- doned, the Perreaus were murdered." To return to my tutor, it was on a raw, miserable niofht durino; the Winter of 1808, the streets full of melted snow and slush, that I drove up in all the pomp and pride of my uncle's town chariot (for my father, who was at that period Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, was with my mother and the rest of the family in Dublin), under the melancholy-looking VOL. I. D 34 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. archway that leads to the spot where I was to take up my new abode. This was the first time I had left home, and my heart died within me. Little time, however, was left for reflection, for the carriage shortly pulled up at a large house in Great Dean's-yard, and no sooner had the thundering rap of a fashionable London footman announced me, than I heard the unfastening of a chain, and upon the door being partially opened, I observed by the dim light of a tallow candle the figures of about a dozen boys who had gathered round the Cerberus that guarded it. Upon my name being announced, the urchins, whose curiosity had attracted them to the spot, were driven back, and I descended from the carriage. As I crossed the entrance-hall to a room on its right, the murmur of " A new fellow," " What a little one," reached my ears, as I passed a phalanx of my future companions. I was then shown into a -well-furnished apartment, which, by the smallness of the fire, and the manner in which the looking-glass, chairs, and carpet were covered, appeared to be more a hall of reception than a tenanted room. Two wax candles, evi- dently recently lit, ornamented a huge convex mirror, scarcely rendering darkness visible. " Dick," so the male " man of all work," was called, shortly re-entered the room, introducing my worthy dame, Mrs. Packharness. This lady was tall, trim, and well got up for company. She appeared in a splendid silk gown, an elaborate head-dress, with some rather fanciful twisted curls ; her manner, however, was extremely kind, and she THE doctor's sanctum. 35 welcomed me to her house with warmth and affection. " Rather shy, I see, never mind, my little boy, you'll soon find yourself at home." Home, what magic in that word — I hung down my head and wept. " I've a bed for you in No. 4," she con- tinued, " where you'll find nine nice young gentle- men all about your size and age." The two housekeepers, Mary and Elizabeth, were then summoned. The former was a gaunt and determined-looking female of eight or nine and thirty ; the latter was fair, fat, and forty ; both of them expressed their wish to make me as comfort- able as possible. At that moment the door opened, and " Dick " again made his appearance. " Dr. Dodd will be happy to see you," he said ; so following him, I crossed the passage, where still remained some gaping urchins, who shook hands with me, while others, more mischievously inclined, pinched, i nd tried to extract some of my great-coat buttons. Passing through a small room which, from the blotches of ink upon the table, and dogs'-eared books lying about, was evidently appropriated to study, we reached the tutor's sanctum-sanctorum. No sooner had the huge fist of my conductor given a tolerably loud knock upon the panel, than a rough and rather stentorian voice called " Come in." Dick — what this respected and respectable man's patronymic was, neither I nor any other Westminster boy ever knew — opened the door, gently shoved me in, and when he closed it after him, I 36 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. found myself aloDO with Dr. Dodd, tutor at my boarding-house, and master of the fourth form. In a huge arm-chair sat the dominie, a small lamp with a green shade throwing its light upon a large unwieldly volume, whose characters were Hebrew to me. The Doctor was a well- built, powerful-looking man, with somewhat of a stern countenance : his costume was very unlike the dress of tutors of the present day. Instead of the frock coat, the loose trousers, the Wellington or elastic spring boot, the black necktie, and the unpowdered caput — he appeared in a suit of sables, coat, waistcoat, and continuations of black cloth, jet knee and shoe-buckless, black silk stockings, white neckcloth and shirt frill, powdered head, and a pigtail. On looking about nie, I saw that this worthy and excellent man did not seem to think, at least as far as his own practice went, that the creature-comforts of this world ought to be neglected, for a very nice-looking roast chicken, some sausages and mashed potatoes, with a bottle of port wine, were about to be spread upon the board. A huge fire sparkled in the grate, and gave a cheerful air to a room that would other- wise have been gloomy and dark, from the closely- packed bookshelves that surrounded it, and which, on a subsequent visit, I found were filled with the choicest classical works. After a few inquiries after my parents, and thanks for their remembrance of him in a present of game, the Doctor poured out a glass of the genuine old beeswing port and handing it to me, welcomed me to the ancient college. MY SOHOOL-FELLOWS. 37 " You may go now," said the tutor, " supper will soon be ready, and you have no time to lose." Dick, who was in waiting, conducted me to the hall, where I found a joyous bevy of boys assem- bled, who soon hustled round me, exclaiming, " What's your name ?" " How old are you ?" Where do you live in the country?" *' Where's the governor's town house ?" " Does your father keep a carriage ?" " Do you know any Westminster fellow at home ? " " What did paternity tip ?" " Where do you go home for the hohdays ?" " Who's your tailor?" I must here remark, in case any of ray readers should feel a curiosity to know how I was clad, that I was dressed in a jacket of light blue, with small silver sugar-loaf beads, a white waistcoat, ornamented with Spanish buttons, with nether garments of the same colour as my jacket. In addition to the above, I shone in the lustre of a new pair of dancing shoes, silk stocking, frilled shirt, silk tie, and kid gloves. The hall in which morning and evening prayers were read, and our meals took place, was a long and tolerably-sized apartment, with a huge fire in the centre, and two windows at the extremity ; one large table extended from the top to nearly the bottom, while two smaller ones in parallel lines occupied the length of one wall, and half the other between the fire and the window. The intermediate space was devoted to cupboards. The ceiling was a sort of mosaic formed by wafers of all hues and colours, while allumettes, which had undergone the process of greasing with tallow, had affixed themselves to 38 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. it upon being shot upwards. The forms were notched and cut in every shape. There a coach and horses had been carved by one hand, there a ship in full sail by another, a knight in armour stood erect in one part, while sundry squares, triangles, and circles showed that the juvenile artist had a taste for mathematics. Then for the initials — there was almost every letter in the alphabet, with the name of the month, the date of the day and year in which the work of art had been executed. Sundry holes had been made in the boards of the floor with a red-hot poker, and in these games of marbles were being carried on. The forms and side-tables, too, were bored for ink, while the stone front and mantelpiece had been worked upon by some self-taught sculptor, carver, carpenter, and painter, as was evinced by the names of boys engraved and printed upon them. Two small holes on each side of the mantel- piece were filled with wax tapers, which had been sacrilegiously carried off from the Abbey on the previous Sunday. At that period gas had not been introduced ; and the venerable Abbey was lit, if such could be called lighting, with small wax candles ; those that illuminated the desks of the ^yestminster boys were always considered as perquisites, and were borne off in triumph by some quick-fingered urchin, and made use of when a crowd gathered round the fireplace to hear some anecdote told by one of the boys, or some sixpenny romance read aloud to the admiring listeners. It Avas in the middle of a most heart-breaking WRS. PAOKnARNESS. 39 tale, entitled, " Joanna Le Clair, or the Orphan of Marseilles," just at the moment that the reader was pointing out the beauties of the frontispiece, a coloured print of the heroine in an awful predica- ment between love and poison, that a cry of supper was heard; in a moment a rush for places was made, and, as a new boy, I was allowed a post of honour beside the presiding dame. For the upper boys, Mrs.Packharness carved a tough-looking leg of yearling mutton, while the lower ones were regaled with bread and single Gloucester cheese, small beer, or " swipes," as it was called, a discre- tion. As a novice, I was not aware of a plot that had been laid, which was to produce a hrosure. Many complaints had been made of the paucity of edibles, and to punish the dame for this grievance, on the occasion of a hrosure, every boy was to make away with as much as he possibly could, so as to clear the tables ; for this purpose, after stomachs were filled, satchels were stealthily stored and secretly carried up stairs. " More mutton ! " exclaimed the worthy Mrs. Pack. " Why, bless me, how hungry the boys are ! Betsy, fetch the other leg." The other leg was brought, and was soon reduced to a mere skeleton. More bread, more cheese, more meat was called for, until at last the board was literally cleared. Then began a murmur of " Shame ! shame !" accompanied by hissing and yelling ; a few of the most audacious commenced rattling the plates and glasses, and sundry break- ages were heard, when the embryo riot was put an 40 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KJ^OWN. end to by the appearance of Dr. Dodcl, who made a suitable speech, restored order, read the evening prayers, and retired. I was then taken up to my dormitory. Number 4, where I was to be located, was on the first floor, looking into a small yard behind the house ; the room contained ten turn-np beds, two or three rickety bureaux, half- a-dozen small cupboards, a few broken chairs, a maimed table notched and seared, upon which stood a tin candlestick, holding a tottering " dip," already in a " melting mood." The ceiling was ornamented much after the same mosaical manner as the hall already described, with the addition of certain initials made by the flare of a candle. The floor of the room was of an unspeak- able hue. A diminutive fire emitted more smoke than heat. The small cupboards contained broken pitchers, cracked basins, blacking-bottles, bath- bricks, and brushes. The bureaux were elaborately carved with the names of the last owner and his predecessors. The chairs were sticky with blacking. The table had one end of it devoted to a knife- board, and the number of small perforations in the other parts, filled with a fluid which had evidently been manufactured by Messrs. Day and Martin, show^ed that ink and glass inkstands were not in fashion. At the bottom of one of the cupboards, old shoes, boots, skates, frying-pans, gridirons, empty bottles were all huddled together; a broken pair of tongs, a half-poker, a shovel that had been burnt into holes during the process of roasting chestnuts on it, and a bellows devoid of blowinjr THE DORMITORY. 41 powers completed the furniture of this apartment. The snow was falHng fast, when to my dismay T found my bed was close to a window, in which there was a broken pane. " Stuff that bed-curtain into it," said a youth. "Won't we snowball the 'skies!'" exclaimed another. Snowball the skies ! thought I ; this is reversing the order of nature — not knowing at that moment that " skies " and blackguards were synonymous terms. " No snoring," shouted the bully of the room, " or I'll toe you." A process I saw summarily inflicted upon the sleeping culprit, and which was performed by tying a piece of whip-cord round his doigt dii pled, and tugging it till the nasal noise was ended. Another was tossed up in his bed, in an antipodean attitude, receiving a frigid bath, commonly called " cold pig," on his descent. By degrees each boy fell off to sleep. Exhausted and excited as I was by my day's journey, I was the last to get into a slumber, which was broken by frightful dreams, during which horrors upon horrors seemed to accumulate. At an early hour the same noisy bell that had announced supper on the previous evening awoke me suddenly, when such a scene of confusion presented itself as I had never witnessed before. " Who's got my brush ?" " Give me the blacking-bottle." " Where's the tinder-box P" " Some fellow has cribbed my Latin grammar ?" " Don't burn my impos (unde derivatur impos, 42 CELEBRITFES I HAVE KNOWN. impositum — a certain number of lines to be written out as a punishment)." "Dick, bring my shoes." The fags were rushing out of the room to call their masters, to light their fires, to fetch water from the pump in Deau's-yard, and undertake other menial offices. " Dr. Dodd wishes to see you," said Dick. I attended the summons ; when the kind-hearted tutor took great pains to ascertain how far advanced I was in the Latin grammar. "As the youngest boy in the school, you will be placed under Mr. Longlands in the under petty ; but I have no doubt by strict attention you will soon be removed into the upper." He then proceeded to giv^e me many wise and noble precepts — and if, in the strife of passion and the assaults of temptation, I have not always followed them, I owe all that is good and estimable to the counsels and exhortations of that worthy man. After introducing me to Mr. Longlands, I had time to look about me ; the walls of the school were nearly covered with the names of old West- minsters, and those of tliat day ; forms extended the whole wa}^ round the building, with large old- fashioned chairs placed before them for the tutors. A huge square box occupied the division between the lower and the upper school, called the lost box, and in this all books left in the school were deposited. Opposite this was a table, where sat three or four of the upper boys, whose duty, in addition to their studies, was to draw lots when, out EOPS FOK THE SCHOOL. 43 of a large party sent up to be flogged, a few were to be pardoned. The wall behind the form I sat upon was carved into grottoes, and all sorts of quaint shapes and devices, while blotches of ink, such as I had previously remarked at Mrs. Pack- harness's, were here upon a larger scale along the benches and forms. Indeed, I luckily escaped sitting down in a puddle of the best Japan ink, by the interference of Mr. Longlands. In a few minutes I was summoned into the presence of the head-master, Dr. Gary, afterwards Bishop of St. Asaph, who, having put a certain number of ques- tions to me, told me I should be placed in the upper petty, with the assurance that with applica- tion I should soon be promoted to the under first. I pass over my school hours, which would prove as tedious to my readers as they were dull to me, and merely remark that on the first morning there was an incentive given to my exertions which influenced me not a little. Before we broke up for our half-holiday, a certain hissing noise was heard throughout the school, which was caused by the entrance of the college-porter, carrying a huge quantity of that betulineous tree, a native of Britain, called hetula alba, which furnished the rods for the school. The noise grew louder and louder, until the birch was safely deposited in a small room be- hind the " shell," — so the upper end of the room was called from its shape. In this den the rods were made, and seeing the effect produced by the application of one upon the chapped hands of a young urchin, in what was called a " three cutter 44 ORrJ'T.RTTIES T TTAVR KNOWN. — a liander," I made up my mind, as far as I could, to do my best to avoid sucli a puuishment. For tlie first three days I was allowed to be free, but at the termination of them I became the fap^ of a fine noble follow, though a bit of" a tyrant, John Francis Miller Frskino, afterwards Earl of Mar. He was a thorough good sportsman, an excellent shot, a good cricketer, and a splendid oarsman. As I had indulged in many field sports, more especially shooting and riding, we soon got to be good friends. *' If you are a dab at a duck, and can look after my dog, you are just the fag I want," said Erskine. " To-morrow," he continued, " is an ' early play,' so get my shooting tackle and gear ready, as I shall have a turn at the ducks." The next morning we proceeded to the house of the celebrated Dick llubbert, in Tothill Fields. Those fields, the willow-walk, the halfpenny-hatch, the duck-pond, are no longer to be traced. On their site the Penitentiary, new squares, crescents, and rows of houses have sprung up. Indeed, London has, within the last forty years, so ex- tended itself, east, west, north, and south, that scarcely a vesture of green pasture has been left. How diflerent are the environs of this huge brick and mortar metropolis, to what they were in by- gone days ! The result is, that with an increasing population, there is scarcely a spot left where the pent-up citizen, or the hard-toiling mechanic, can enjoy a sniff of pure air. Our ancestors managed these affairs better, for FitzStephen, who flourished in the rei>:n of Henry II., Avrites as follows : — LONDON IN FORMEE DAYS. 45 " There are on the north part of London power- ful fountains of water, sweet, wholesome, and clear, streaming forth among the glistening pebble stones ; in this number. Holy-well, Clerken-well, and St. Clement's-well, are of most note, and frequently above the rest, where scholars and the youth of the city take the air abroad in the Summer even- ings." The same writer informs us that in the afternoon the youth of the city were accustomed to go out into the fields with their teachers to play at ball, " while the ancient and wealthy citizens came on horseback to see these youngsters contending at their sport." He adds, " that exercises on horse- back, to qualify them for military pursuits, were used every Friday afternoon during Lent, and that the citizens took delight in dogs and birds, such as sparrow-hawks and gos-hawks, and everything con- nected with the sports of the field." Stow, speaking of the fields in the neighbourhood of London, describes them as " commodious for the citizens therein to walke, shoote, and other- wise to recreate and refresh their dulled spirits, in the sweete and wholesome ayre." He also men- tions that it was customary in olden times " for the Sheriffs, the porters of the king's beame, or weigh-house, and others of the citie, to be chal- lengers of all men in the suburbs, to wrestle, shoot the standard and broad arrow." As late as the reign of Charles L, we find how little London had extended eastward, for on the 24th of July, 1020, that ill-fated monarch having 46 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. hunted a stag, or hart, from Wanstead in Essex, killed him in Nightingale Lane, in the hamlet of Wapping, in a garden belonging to a most respect- able citizen, who had some damage among his herbs, by reason of the multitude there assembled together." With regard to Tothill Fields, Maitland thus de- scribes them : — " In which fields was a fort, upon the line of communication drawn round the City of London and Suburbs, by order of Parliament, in the year 1643. In this work a Lazaretto was erected in the year 1605 for the reception of poor objects op- pressed with the plague, which place was de- nominated the Seven Houses." In my day, the fields extended from Millbank Row, AVest minster, to the site on w^hich formerly stood Ranelagh Gardens, and covered the ground now occupied, as I have observed, by the Peniten- tiary, the approaches to Vauxhall Bridge, the Thames Embankment, and numerous streets branch- ing from it. In the Willow-walk and its precincts lived two celebrated characters, Richard Hubbert and Wil- liam Habberfield, the latter hero better known by the name of " Slender Billy." The redoubtable Richard was like his royal namesake " of courage leonine ;" and if his crusades against the hen- roosts, duck-ponds, and dog-kennels of the neigh- bourhood w^ere not quite as praiseworthy as those against Saladin's Army in Palestine, Dick's worst enemy could not have withheld the homage due to KIOHARD HUBBERT. 47 his undauDted bravery. Miss Hubbert, " sole daughter of bis bouse and heart," resided with her father, and made herself extremely useful in looking after the badgers, feeding the ducks, which her respected parent kept for the Westminster boys to shoot, at a shilling per shot, the game, if killed, to go to the sportsman. The young lady also made up the cartridges, fed the pigeons, attended to the rabbits, and superintended the aviaries of canaries, bull-finches, thrushes, linnets, and larks. It was whispered that the fair hands of this accomplished spinster occasionally transmogrified London spar- rows into piping bull-finches, the process being per- formed by a few coats of paint, laid pretty thick upon their smoke-coloured feathers. Suffice it to say that upon one occasion a very green young gentleman, from the country, purchased, as he thought, " a warbler of the grove," which, upon being exposed to a shower of rain completely changed its hues. Upon Hubbert being appealed to, he remarked that, " them there birds inwari- ably moulted their feathers at a partiklar time, and that if the young gentleman would keep the bird another year, it would be all right." By some accident, the cage-door was shortly afterwards found open, and it was shrewdly suspected that Dick had allowed the inmate to escape to save his daughter from disgrace. Hubbert's residence was very much after the fashion of an Indian wigwam in North America ; consisted of his own " crib," two bed-chambers, a sitting-room, and a " fencing" office, for Hubbert, 48 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. be it spoken to his shame, was a receiver of stolen goods. The yard was filled with small huts and kennels, from the apertures of which might be seen the rough head of a badger, the savage " frontis- piece " of a bull-dog, the sleek ears of a pointer, the curly pate of a Scotch terrier, the ferocious muzzle of a one-eyed mastiff. Then there were pigeon traps, rabbit-hutches, a kennel for what the Astley's playbills describe as a " real fox," who occasionally made his appearance on those boards. Then came the poultry yard, the duck-pond, and a target for pistol, rifle, and fowling-piece practice. Upon Erskine and myself reaching this truly sporting residence, Miss Hubbert made her appear- ance, and finding that we were " all on the square," as she termed it, we were usliered into the presence of the ranger of Tothill Fields. Upon entering the snuggery, we found the occupier of it comfortably ensconced in an arm-chair by the fire- side, with a jug of hot elder-flower wine before him. He rose to meet us, assuring Erskine that he would have a capital day with the snipes, and then desired his daughter to fill our glasses. "Here's ' Tearback,' " said Richard, handing a single-barrelled gun to my master; " and perhaps the young 'un," alluding to me, " would like to handle ' Scratcher ' for an hour ? He talks like a book about shooting." I must here remark that Hubbert always gave his fowling pieces titles of distinction, which were as well known to the young Westminsters as were the names of Robert's half-deckers on the river. DUCK-STIOOTING. 49 Erskine, who happened to be in high good-humour, seemed dehs^htod at the idea of havino; an extra gun for his fag, so all was speedily arranged, and, having deposited a seven-shilling piece in the hands of the " master of the ordnance," as security for payment — " no tick " being Dick's motto — we proceeded to the shooting ground. A sketch of our costume may not be out of place. "We had shooting jackets with huge pockets, the shot loose in them, an old tobacco bowl as a charger, an ink-bottle as powder-flask, and a satchel turned inside out, to hide the red leather, for a game bao^. After an hour's walk after a legendary snipe, we returned to the duck-pond, where we contracted for five shots a-piece, at elevenpence per shot, the killed to go to the shooter. " On their own merits modest men are dumb," so says that cele- brated pedagogue. Doctor Pangloss, and willingly would I follow his erudite example ; as, however, my day's prowess produced a great effect upon my future comfort at Westminster, I must reveal it. After Erskine had fired his five rounds of ammuni- tion, under which discharge one duck was killed and two wounded, I was called upon to take my turn ; and having watched the artful dodges of these divers, I w^aited my opportunity, and no sooner had they got their heads above water than I poured in my shower of No. 5 shot, and was fortunate enough to bag three out of the number. CD O " Bravo ! young Lennox !" said my master ; " you shall be my keeper, and look entirely after VOL. I. E 50 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KKOWN. Vixen and my shooting tackle. I never saw a better shot than the last. "Approbation" from an upper-fifth boy was, as the man says in the play, " praise indeed ; " and from that day my life as a fag was free from oppres- sion and tyranny. " There, take your own ducks," continued Erskine, "and I shall not want you on Saturday ; you may have a good tuck-out if you like." My passion for sporting was so strong that, having once been initiated by my day's battue in the duck-pond, I took advantage of every oppor- tunity of revisiting Hubbert's residence, and through him got acquainted with an individual who, in those days, was as well-known in the purheus of Westminster as the far-famed Dick himself. From the first moment I went to Dean's-yard, my great ambition had been to be introduced to that great hero, William Habberfield, whose exploits I had read in a sixpenny book. For years Habberfield had been known on the town, from the figure he made in pugilistic circles, and also as patron of the badger-baiting, dog-fights, bull-baits, and cock- fights in the precincts of Westminster. Billy's *' cabin " was a menagerie for animals of every description, also a convenient fencing " repository " — from the lady's lap-dog to the nobleman's plate. There might be seen a King Charles' spaniel, ready to be returned whenever the reward off'ered was raised to ten guineas. There might be found an over-fed obese pug, for whose loss her disconso- late mistrsss had nearly cried her eyes out, and VISIT TO HABBERFIELD HOUSE. 51 wlio was prepared to pledge a diamond-ring to recover her lost pet, which arrangement was in due time brought about by one of Billy's emis- saries. Independently of the above, there were pointers, terriers, mastiffs, bull-dogs, Italian grey- pounds, all of which had strayed into Habberfield's yard. In the fencing department were watches, plate, rings, brooches, snuff-boxes, pocket-haudkercliiefs, muffs, shawls, knee-buckles, opera-glasses, gold- headed canes, and brilliants. Habberfield, from the figure he cut in the ring and the cock-pit, was patronised by all the sporting men about town ; but Billy's greatest connecdon was with house- breakers, robbers, pickpockets, and Jonathan Wilds of his day. He bore the reputation of being a man of the strictest integrity in all his transactions, carry- ing out faithfully the principle of " honour among thieves." He was considered the safest " fence " in the metropolis, as his dwelling was well suited for concealment, and being garrisoned by bull-dogs, it was rendered impregnable by any sudden attack made upon it by the " Charleys" and " Bow-street runners " of that day. On the first half-holiday we visited Habberfield House, which was, as the auctioneers say, " pleasingly situated between two streams " — rather green and stagnant it must be admitted — being no other than two deep banked ditches, filled with the rankest of weeds and the most filthy water. These fosses fortified the garrison from any flauk attack, while the rear was impregnable from the E 2 52 CELEBRITIES T HAVE KNOWX. wall of the Louse and yard — the front being the only vulnerable point, was well protected. The garrison consisted of Mrs. Habberfield, her husband, a bear, and two bull-dogs. It was tin unfortunate day that we had selected for a visit to slender Billy, for a warrant was out for his apprehension, it being strongly suspected he had in his possession a pocket-book of a clergy- man who had been robbed ; who, upon resistance, was shamefully ill-treated and thrown into a well. All Westminster was in an uproar, and a small coterie had assembled round the door of a public- house in the Horseferry Road. "What an oudacious thing?" said a coster- monger, " to rob a clergyman of his ' reader.' " *'And then to throw him into a well !" responded a black-eyed nymph, who had evidently not been indebted to nature for the colour of her optics. '^'Orrible'" " Why, what's that you say ?" asked a knowing- looking personage in a velveteen coat and corduroy unmentionables, whom we soon discovered to be the commissary of the then thriving pugiHstic ring, Mr. William Gibbons. " Tbrow'd him in ! no sitch thing," continued Bill. " Old men, when they gets lushy, inwariably walks into wells ; it was all a hacci- dent. But, Dick, what game are you up to with this young gentleman ?" Hubbert gave Mr. Gibbons " the office," as he called it, and as the Westminster boys were special friends of the Commissary, he proceeded to accom- pany us. A whistle from our guide, accompanied SLENDER billy's DOMICILE. 53 by two taps at the outward gate, were answered by Mrs. Habberfield, who, comiug to a small iron grating in it, exchanged some words with my com- panions, the purport of which I did not under- stand, but which produced as much effect as the " open Sesame " of the celebrated nursery tale ; for in a moment the barricade was removed, and we entered the outer court of Slender Billy's domicile. " Be quiet, Venom," said this female to a young mastiff, who seemed to take a fancy to my leg. " Down, Fairv," continued the Amazon. "Please walk round, gentlemen, to the back door ; you'll find my poor husband awfully distressed at the reports that have been circulated about hiui." We followed the instructions thus given; and passing through as savage a lot of canine species as ever I beheld, reached the back door. There the whistle and taps were repeated, and the same magical effect being produced, we entered, and groping our way through a dark passage, came to the double doors that divided Habberfield's sanctum from the rest of the building. The password having been given, the clanking of a chain was heard, and two solid bars being removed, no obstacle presented itself to our entrance. Billy now rose to welcome us, and while he was conversing with his namesake, Bill Gibbons, I had an opportunity of inspecting the premises, which were not unlike Hubbert's, though on a more extended scale. In addition to watches, snuff- boxes, spoons, forks, there was a crucible on the hob of a small grate, which showed that Habber- 54 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KXOWX. field was anxious to relieve himself, as owner of the plate, from the tax on armorial bearings. The whole appearance of the apartment gave one the idea of a pawnbroker's shop. From the above specimen of spoils, there can be no doubt that Habberfield was a tolerably good workman, and was up to anything — from cutting luggage off a travelling carriage to breaking into houses ; moreover, he was close as wax. He dealt largely in horses and dogs ; whenever he could not procure an animal he fancied by fair means, he resorted to foul ; telling the owners that, if they refused to take a reasonable sum, he would have what he required for nothing. " Look you here !" said Billy one day, to a refractory customer; "there's a ten-pun' note for Dustman." The man demurred. " Well, then, look out," responded Habberfield, " my principle is, first I tries civility, then I tries severity." Billy was as good as his word, in four-and- twenty hours the above-mentioned celebrated dog, a breed between the bull and the terrier, was in his possession. So great was his proficiency in dog-stealing, that I doubt very much, had he lived in our days, whether the Bill, now the law of the land, got up by the Bishop of Bond Street, would not have been treated by him as a dead letter. Nay, I even go far enough to think that poor Tiny, Bishop's pet spaniel, would have been among the fashionable changes from New Bond Street to Willow Walk. billy's trial and sentence. 55 Habberfield was also a " kuacker," and being a very kind-hearted man, often boasted that he had stolen many a broken-down horse more out of humanity than for lucre. For years he had been a marked man ; but, like his Highland prototype, Donald Caird, had always managed to " cheat the wuddie; " and it was not till he dabbled in foreign politics, by assisting at the escape of some French prisoners of war, that he, through a treacherous " pal " who peached, found himself sentenced to twenty-four months in Newgate. Here Billy's fortunate genius seems to have deserted him, for a '* plant " was shortly put upon him, when he " fell like a woodcock into the springe." A stranger introduced himself to the prisoner, and after some little circumlocution, in which he talked loudly of his own honour and integrity, and of Habberfield's merits, at last came to the point by offering to buy some forged notes. The hero of Willow Walk and Duck Lane could not, as he said, " afford to be mousy," so he concluded the bargain, and told the stranger where the " flimsies " might be found. No sooner had this been done than a warrant was issued to detain him upon this additional charge, and, after a trial at the Old Bailey, he was sentenced to be executed. This was the adage of " s^ive a dog a bad name and hang him " most literally carried out. Every exertion was made for a com- mutation of the culprit's sentence, but his dealings in forged notes had been for a length of time so notorious that such mercv was denied him. 5G CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Since that period the severe laws against forgery have been modified ; the last person executed for it was Thomas Maynard, in December, 1829. Habberfield was an early bird, and of so active a temperament that he only allowed sii hours for sleep, thus adopting the motto of the Iron Duke, a hero in rather a different line, who, upon being asked, "How you can, with the details you have to provide for. and the military responsibility you have to bear, sleep in your bed," replied, " When I throw off my clothes I throw off my cares, and when I turn in my bed it is time to turn out." Billy's eighteen hours were devoted to business. So strictly correct was he in all his dealings that he had amassed a large sum of money, the greater part of which being out in trust went to his widow. He suffered the awful sentence of the law on the 29th of January, 1812, opposite the debtor's door at Newgate. Poor Mrs. Habberfield mourned the loss of her husband with tears and hysterics, but — " Ere jet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married;" the happy bridegroom being the identical Bow- Street runner who, transported by her charms, had captured her dear departed Billy. Among other delinquencies, slender Billy was strongly suspected of having been the " fence " when the plate was stolen from St. Paul's Cathedral; he was also looked upon as being an HONOUR AMONG THIEVES. 57 extensive spirit-distiller without the sanction of the Board of Excise ; and as for " prigging," he often boasted that he had not an article of furniture, linen, plate, or wearing apparel, that had not been purloined by his ever active brain and hands. A brilliant trait, however, in his character remains to be recorded — be never " split " upon an accomplice. Upon one occasion, when a large reward was offered for the apprehension of a "pal," application was made to Habberfield to give such information as might lead to his appre- hension. His reply was, " I know my days are numbered ; my grey hairs tell me I have ap- proached the winter of my existence; but if every hair was a life I would not peach to save them." Of Slender Billy, then, might it be said, in the words of Byron, slightly altered : — *' For bira they raise not the recording stone — His death 7iot dubious deeds, too widely known ; He left a crachsmans name to other times, Link'djwith one virtue, and a thousand crimes." To return to our visit to Habberfield, after offering us some refreshment, which we declined, he presented us with some cards of admission to a celebrated sparring exhibition that was about to take place at the rooms of that great professor of the art, Byron's corporeal pastor, the late John Jackson. Before we had time to acknowledge our thanks, a shrill whistle was heard from the direction in which we had left Mrs. Habberfield. "The scouts are on the look-out," exclaimed Bill 58 cKLEBrurrEs i have known. Gibbons, while Hubbert aud Habberfield imme- diately barred the entrance, and, removing a panel of one of the cupboards, made their way through it into an adjoining room. " Come along, youngster," said the latter. " All is as rio^ht as a trivet." " It's only old Vaughan," exclaimed Mrs. Habberfield, in a low tone of voice; that being the name of a very superannuated member of the police- force — if such a term can be applied to the impotent body who, in those days, resembled very much Dog- berry's watch at Messina, so admirably satirized by Shakespeare. " He's got Jim Larkins with him," continued the female sentry, " but Fairy and I could queer two such flats in a jiffy. Anxious, like all Westminster boys, to be in the midst of the fray, we were about to follow the hero of our adventure into the yard, when Slender Billy turned round to Hubbert, and in a tone that showed ho was accustomed to command, addressed him as follows : — " Dick, you must see the young gentleman home to Dean's-yard — keep your visit dark — then be off to the Rookery, find out whether the Slasher has been at the ken since the high toby spice * near the powder-mills. Warn him, or Barney, that Whitechapel Sal is likely to turn snitch for the forty. t Jem Larkins has got round her, and put the beaks on the scent. If necessary, be down upon * Robbery on horseback. t Peach for the reward of forty guineas. THE HALFPENNY HATCH. 59 her for the robbery at Stepney Fair. I'll meet you at tlie Horseshoe at eleven." " I'm fly," responded my guide. " Now, young gentleman, follow me. Mum's the word." We proceeded back into the room we had been first introduced into, when Bill, instead of unbar- ring the door, as I, in the innocence of my heart, thought he would have done, removed a few planks in the flooring, under a deal chest which he had moved aside, and leading the way des- cended through the trap-door into a cellar. After groping about for a few seconds, he opened a small window-shutter, which admitted sufficient light to show us a well-barricaded door; the bars were forthwith removed, and llubbert hastening us on, we found ourselves on terra firraa in a ditch close to the back wall of the building. A noise of a heavy bolt from within, and an '* all right " from a female voice told us that Habberfield's subterraneous entrance was safe from interruption. It may easily be supposed that I was not a little delighted to find myself in the open fields again, and passing through " the halfpenny hatch," since immortalized by the authors of the " Rejected Addresses," in that admirable parody on the " Small-beer Poet's " lyrical effusion : — " Thy hatch, Halfpenny ! passed in a trice Boiled some black pitch, and burnt down Astley's twice." I reached Millbank, and shortly found myself with a bevy of young friends around me, listening to my adventure in Tothill Fields. 60 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Bill Gibbons bad taken leave of us very abruptly at tbe first backney-coach stand, and entering one of tbose rickety vebicles, bad ordered tbe jarvey to set biin down at tbe end of Oxford Road. Tbe result of bis embassy to tbe Rookery, I sbrewdly guessed, to bave been successful, as I read in tbe evening paper of tbe next day tbe following report : — " Bow Street. Tbis morning Sarab Linney, abas Wbitecbapel Sal, was brougbt to tbis office on a charge of stabbing and robbing: a o^entle- man of bis watcb at Stepney Fair. Tbe property was found to bave been pledged by tbe prisoner at tbe sbop of Mr. Barney Isaacs, Higb Holborn. Tbe unfortunate female was fully committed to Newgate for trial." Tbe sequel was sbortly afterwards made known, for witbiu a few weeks I purchased by cbance tbe " last dying spcecb and confession of tbree wretcbed criminals, wbo, in tbe tben Dra- conian state of tbe law bad expiated tbeir offences before tbe debtor's door at Newgate," and among tbe names of tbe culprits I found tbat of Sarab Linney, wbo, born of very vicious parents, bad been brougbt up in every species of vice and profligacy. At an early age sbe bad connected berself witb a bigbwayman of some note called tbe Slasber; in a fit of jealousy sbe was tampered witb by an emissary of tbe Bow Street autho- rities and peached against ber inconstant paramour. Upon tbis getting wind, information was immedi- ately laid against ber, and the ill-fated young woman was tried, found guilty, and executed. Altbougb years bave passed over my bead since MT DELINQUENCY DISCOVERED. 61 the event I have recorded, during which I have led not an inactive life, and have witnessed scenes of war and desolation abroad — of pestilence, famine, trouble, and turmoil at home — never can I forget the impression created upon my mind at my visit to William Habberfield, or the painful reminiscences that were afterwards caused by the dreadful and ignominious death of the principal actor in that scene, and that of one of his victims. About a week after my visit to Habberfield, when assembled at my dame's for the usual " roll call," I could not help fancying that Dr. Dodd gave me a look that portended much mischief. Nothing, however, was said that night; upon going into school the following morning, I began to hope that my fears were groundless, when the sad reality came before me, by my tutor beckoning me to his chair. " You were out of bounds last Wednesday," said the Doctor, in a very stern manner. I began to stutter and stammer, but finally ad- mitted the charge ; adding that I had been tempted to break througu the rules by shooting at Hubbert's, and afterwards visiting a friend of his. " Well, my boy," proceeded the kind-hearted Jemmy, " I am glad you have spoken the truth. I abhor a liar. The shooting, though strictly for- bidden, I might pass over, but your visit to a notorious highwayman was unworthy the character of a Westminster boy — still more of a nobleman. Some lampooner has talked of Winchester scholars, Harrow blades, Eton bucks, and Westminster 62 CELEBRITIES 1 HAVE KNOWN. blackguards. The latter title is unmerited; I should be sorry to see it realised ; but it would be realised if our boys were to fraternise with low pugilists aud the scum of St. Giles. Your pro- ceedings were reported to Dr. Gary before I was informed of them." At this moment a sixth-form boy came to say that the head-master wished to speak to Dr. Dodd, who immediately obeyed the summons. During the consultation of the two learned dominies, I anxiously watched their couutenaces; expulsion or a six-cutter seemed written legibly on their faces. In a few moments my suspense was over, by being called up to Gary. After expiating upon the enor- mity of my delinquencies, he told me that nothing but the character my tutor had given me for veracity could have saved me from expulsion, and that, under that circumstance, and that alone, my punishment would be commuted to a task work — that of writing out, during the ensuing Christmas holidays, the English part of the Latin Grammar. Delighted at the noble part Jemmy Dodd had acted towards me, I made a resolution never again to offend him, and happy am I to say that I con- stantly acted up to this determination. The holidays came, and many a time when my parents thought me fast asleep, I rose from my bed, and trimming the midnight lamp, laboured at my task ; by this means I accomplished it before my return to Westminster, and was highly com- plimented by Dr. Gary at the attention I had paid to it. Instead of an ill-written, scrawly, unintelligible HOW I WAS " TRAPPED." 63 impos, I presented as fair a specimen of cali^rapliy as I could execute. Upon returning to Dean's Yard, I was most anxious to ascertain liow my delinquencies bad been discovered ; I knew full well that none of my Totbill Field friends would peacli. ]t then occurred to me that I had one day got into conversation with a gentlemanlike-looking man at Bridgman the pastrycook's, who made sundry in- quiries about the school, the system that was carried on, the fagging, and the recreation. Upon pressing me upon the latter point, I, in an un- guarded moment, told him of our occasional visits to the duck pond, and of my introduction to Hab- berfield's. This snake in the grass, who under the mask of kindly feeling, had entrapped me, then an unsuspecting youth, to criminate myself, had turned informer and reported to Dr. Gary that a Westminster boy, whom he described, had been guilty of an outrageous act, which he upon public principle felt it a duty to report. Who my false friend was I never from that hour to the present was able to discover. For days and hours I hovered about college and the neighbouring streets in the hopes of meeting him; had I succeeded in so doing, a ducking under the first pump, aided by my indignant fellow schoolboj^s, would have been the result. Dr. Dodd disdained to get information in an underhand manner, and it was through this and other good qualities that he won the hearts of those entrusted to his care. On points of duty he was firm and strict, but the moment those duties were performed he encouraged freely all innocent 64 CELEBRITIES I HAVE K.VOW.V. amusements. Iq referring to the Halfpenny Hatcli, I am reminded of a song that was very popular at the time I was at Westminster, two verses of which I still remember. It was entitled " Lambeth's Glor}', or The Lass of the Halfpenny Hatch." " While some are adrair'd, For charms bought or hir'd, With neither paint, powder, nor patch. More charming by far Than all of them are Is the Lass of the Halfpenny Hatch. " Of dames or of misses, Where's one such as this is ? In short there's not one that can match, In Surrey's fair shire. Nor on earth far or nigher. With the Lass of the Halfpenny Hatch." "Who the poet was I know not, nor had I ever the advantage of seeing the object of his laudatory lines. Among the old customs which were observed at AYestminster in my day was the throwing of the pancake on Shrove Tuesdav. At eleven o'clock in the morning a verger of the Abbey, in his gown, bearing a silver baton, emerged from the College kitchen, followed by the cook in his white apron, jacket, and cap, and carrying a pancake. On arriving at the school-room, he advanced to the bar which separated the upper school from the lower one, twirled the pancake in the pan, and then tossed it over the bar into the upper school, among a crowd of boys, of which I was always the foremost, who scrambled for the pancake. There EASTER MONDAY EPPING HUNT. 65 was a legend that he who got it unbroken, might, on applying at the Deanery, demand the honora- rium of a guinea (sometimes two guineas) from the Abbey funds. The cook received two guineas for his performance. During the time I was at Westminster I attended that most anxiously looked for, though " excessive- ly and tarnatiously-to-be-laughed-at," I use an American phrase, sporting affair, the Easter Mon- day Epping Hunt. A young chum of mine and myself hired two nags from Tilbury, and were early in the saddle. At daybreak the East end of the city of London poured forth a living stream of its smoke-dried holiday folk ; the road was thronged with equestrians and pedestrians, singing the burden of the song " This day a stag must die." Soon after nine o'clock the town of Epping became densely crowded with people from all parts of the country, parties on foot, on horseback, in carriages, gigs, wagons, carts, donkey chaises, and vans crammed to overflowing. The meet, as Haynes Bayley sang, " We met 'twas in a crowd," presented the appearance of a large fair, or the borders of a race course, princi- pally occupied by pea and thimble boards, E. 0. tables, and various other apparatus for petty gambling, shows, exhibitions, gingerbread stalls glittering with kings and queens, At twelve o'clock there was a goodly assemblage at the brow ofFairmead Bottom, while the pollard oaks which skirt the bottom on either side, were filled with men and boys. Suddenly the loud notes of a horn VOL. I. p aO CELEBKITIES I HAVE KNOWN. were heard, then a keyed bugle playing the in- spiring air of " Bright Chanticleer proclaims the Morn," when the huntsmen and hounds were seen coming over the hill by the " Bald-faced Stag ;" hundreds of "Jemmy Greens" and "Johnny Gilpins" rushing gallantly forward to meet them. The huntsman dressed in a huge antique red frock coat, with a grass green collar, mother- o'-pearl buttons as big as crown pieces ; yel- low and black striped waistcoat, pair of dark, greasy, corduroy inexpressibles, mahogany co- loured top-boots, mounted on a worn-out bit of blood, with one eye and a string-halt ; a snaffle bridle in his mouth, decorated with a nose- band, an ivory ring under his jaws to keep the reins together, saddle and crupper looking the worse for wear. The whipper-in sported a green cutaway coat, a pair of ochre-coloured leather breeches, evidently made for a stouter man, a black velvet hunting cap, a pair of rusty couples, and a horse the facsimile of that of Petruchio, thus described by Shakespeare. " His horse hipped with an old mothy saddle, and stirrups of no kindred, besides possessed with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine ; trou- bled with the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of wind-galls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, swayed in the back, and shoulder-shotten, ne'er legged before, and with a half-checked bit, and a head- stall of sheep's leather, which, being restrained to THE HOUNDS LAID ON. 67 keep him from stumbling, liatli been often burst, and now repaired with knots." The pack consisted of eight couple from the E.B.M.U.H., (Bast End Metropolitan Union Hunt) ; two and a half drafted from the " drag" or " red- herring" pack of a sporting cavalry regiment; a couple of dwarf staghounds, one cur, a sheep- dog, and a terrier. After an hour's delay, the door of the cart was opened, and amidst the laughing, whooping, shouting, and halloing of the males, the screaming of the females, the yelling, barking, and whining of the canine race, a young buck who " wore a wreath of roses" round his neck, a girth of rainbow-coloured ribands, and a gaudy silk pennon " streaming in the wind," was turned out. The poor half-starved animal looked the picture of innocence, gazed for a few minutes at the spectators, then trotted off perfectly uncon- cerned. At a given time the hounds were laid on. " Yoicks ! ' Melody !' have at him, ' Pilgrim !' " cried the man in red, I will not again profane the name by calling him huntsman. " Vere's the stag ?" asked a young grocer from Whitechapel. " Vot a swell," cried a second. " There he goes !" screeched a third. " Hold hard !" shouted another. " Stop my horse !" cried a fallen one, flounder- ing in a ditch. A yelp here — a growl there. " Ware hounds !" said the man in the green coat F 2 68 CELEBEITIES I HAVE KNOWN. and velvet cap." " Hector has it, forward ! for- ward !" " Want your horse holded, Sir," beseechingly- asked a cad from St. James's Street to a young gentleman on a snaflEle bridle run-away. Away they went, hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, red coats and green coats, blue coats and black coats, sporting sweeps with no coats at all, horses without riders ; dogs, donkeys, baronets, butchers, dandies, huntsmen, knife-grinders, tinkers, tailors, nohocrsicj, snohocracy. There were many most disastrous chances, " of moving accidents, by flood and field ; of hair-breadth escapes." The stag, after trotting some few miles, turned back towards Woodford, and was ultimately taken, nobody knew by whom, how, or where. 69 • NOBLEMEN. BTROE". CHAPTER IV. BYRON — HIS CHARACTER DESCRIBED BY THOMAS MOORE — THE COUNTESS GUICCIOLI — LEIGH HUNT— MY ACQUAINTANCE WITH BYRON — DRURY LANE THEATRE — EDMUND KEAN — DEATH OF BYRON — STANZAS BY MISS LANDON— VICTOR HUGO — BYRON'S MONUMENT AT HUCKNELL— TOM MOORE — A YOUNG PRIMA DONNA. " A great mind is an altar on a hill : should the priest' descend from his attitude, To canvass offerings and worship from dwellers on the plain ? Rather with majestic perseverance will he minister in solitary grandeur. Confident the time will come, when pilgrims shall be flocking to the shrine. For fame is the birthright of genius.". SO many lives, memoirs, and reminiscences of Byron have appeared, that it would be tedious as a thrice told tale to repeat what is already so well known to the reading public. Moore thus describes his feelings when about to read the noble poet's Memoirs, written by himself: — 70 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. " They, too, who 'mid the scornful thoughts that dwell In his rich fancy, tingeing all its streams, — As if the Star of Bitterness, which fell On earth of old,* had touched them with its beams, — Can track a spirit which, though driven to hate, From Nature's hands came kind, affectionate ; And which, ev'n now, struck as it is with blight, Comes out, at times, in love's own native light. How gladly all who've watch'd these struggling rays Of a bright, ruin'd spirit, through his lays. Would here inquire, as from his own frank lips, What desolating grief, what wrongs had driven That noble nature into cold eclipse. Eventful volume ! whatsoe'er the change Of scene and clime — the adventures bold and strange — The griefs — the frailties, but too frankly told— The loves, the feuds thy pages may unfold. If truth with half so prompt a hand unlocks His virtues as his failings, we shall find The record there of friendships held like rocks. And enmities like sun-touch'd snow, resign'd ; Of fealty, cherish'd without change or chill, In those who serv'd him young, and serve him still; Of gen'rous aid, giv'n with that noiseless art Which wakes not pride to many a wounded heart ; Of acts — but, no — not from himself must aught Of the bright features of his life be sought. While they, who court the world, like Milton's cloud,t " Turn forth their silver lining" on the crowd, This gifted Being wraps himself in night ; And keeping all that softens and adorr.s. And gilds his social nature hid from sight. Turns but its darkness on a world he scorns." The Countess Guiccioli in a work entitled " Lord Byron juge par les Temoius de sa vie," thus writes : — * " And the name of the star is called wormwood, and the third part of the waters became wormwood." — Rev. viii. t " Did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night." COMTJS. LORD BYRON. 71 " At all times the world has been very unjust ; and (who does not know it ?) in the history of nations many an Aristides has paid with exile the price of his virtues and his popularity. Great men, great countries, whole nations, whole centuries, have had to bear up against injustice ; and the truth is that vice has so often taken the place of virtue, evil of good, and error of truth ; some have been judged so severely and others so leniently, that, could the book of redress be written, not only would it be too voluminous, but it would also be too painful to peruse. Honest people would feel shame to see the judgments before which many a great mind has had to bend ; and how often party spirit, either religious or political, moved by the basest passions — such as hatred, envy, rivalry, vengeance, fanaticism, intolerance, self-love — has been a pretext for disfiguring in the eyes of the public the greatest and noblest characters. It would then be seen how some censor (profiting by the breach which circumstances, or even a slight fault on the part of these great minds, may have made, and joining issue with other inferior judges of character) has often succeeded in throwing a shade on their glorious actions, and in casting a slur upon their reputation, like those little insects which, from their numbers, actually succeed, not- withstanding their smallness, in darkening the rays of the sun. "What is worse, however, is that when history has once been erroneously written, and a hero has been put forward in colours which are not real, the public actually becomes accessory 72 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. to the deception practised upon it ; for it becomes so enamoured of the false type which has been held out to its admiration, that it will not loosen its hold on it. Public opinion, once fixed, becomes a perfect despotism. " Never, perhaps, has this phenomenon shown itself more visibly and more remarkably than in the case of Lord Byron. Not only was he a victim of these obstinate prejudices, but in his case the annihilation of truth, and the creation of an imaginary type, have been possible only at the cost of common sense, and notwithstanding the most palpable contradictions. So that he has really proved to be one of the most curious instances of the levity with which human judgments are formed." The Countess then proceeds to say, "All, or nearly all, have granted to him an infinity of virtues and natural fine qualities — such as sensitiveness, generosity, frankness, humility, charity, soberness, greatness of soul, force of wit, manly pride, and nobility of sentiment ; but at the same time, they do not sufficiently clear hira of the faults which directly exclude the above-men- tioned qualities. The moral man does not suffi- ciently appear in their writings ; they do not sufficiently proclaim his character — one of the finest that was ever allied to a great intellect. Why ? Are those virtues such that, like excellent and salutary substances, they become poisoned when placed in contact within the same crucible ?" From the Italian Countess I turn to Sir Egerton MY ACQUAINTANCE WITH BYRON. (6 Brjdges, who, after having fully appreciated Byron's poems, says : — " They give to the reader's best instincts an impulse which elevates, purifies, instructs, charms, and affords us the noblest and purest of joys." Few men have hit off Byron's character better than Leigh Hunt, who thus writes : — " Nobody needs to be told what a great wit and fine poet he was ; but everyone does not know that he was by nature a genial and generous man, spoiled by the most untoward circumstances in early life. He vexed his enemies, and sometimes his friends ; but his very advantages had been hard upon him, and subjected him to all sorts of temptation. May peace rest upon his infirmities, and his fame brighten as it advances." Most heartily do I endorse the eulogiums that have been passed upon Byron ; every allowance should be made for one who, like Lara, was : — " Left by his sire, too young such loss to know. Lord of himself, that heritage of woe." I now proceed to say that, in my slight acquaint- ance with him, I was captivated with his manner, conversation, daring spirit, and person ; his coun- tenance, exquisitely modelled for the expression of feeling and passion, displayed at one moment deep and habitual thought, while at another flashes of mirth and gaiety irradiated his sullen brow. Byron's address was affable and courteous; his manner, when pleased, fascinating in the extreme; I first saw Byron at a fancy-dress ball, given by the {4< CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. members of Watier's Club ; I afterwards met bim at Jackson's sparring rooms where I was intro- duced to him by my uncle, the late Duke of Gordon, then Marquis of Huntly. " Huntly and I," said Byron, " dined at Tom Crib's ' crib ' last week, and a night we had. I've not yet recovered from the effects of the gin- punch and the villainous tobacco." After a few more remarks, he continued, " I hear you are going to Covent Garden to-night. Some evening you must pay me a visit at the Opposition House. I scarcely ever miss seeing Kean." Thanking my new acquaintance, and feeling prouder than any peacock at having been noticed by the noble poet, I took my leave. In those days, Long's and Stevens' Hotel in Bond Street and Limmer's in Conduit Street were the " houses of call " for officers ; and one after- noon early in March I found myself in the coffee- room of the latter waiting for two military friends with whom I was to dine, and then proceed to Drury Lane Theatre. John Collin, the waiter (immortalized hy poor Charley Sheridan, who possessed all the wit of that brilliant family) in the following lines was in his glory, for he had won a good stake on the St. Leger : — " My name is John Collin, head-waiter at Limmer's, At the corner of Conduit Street, Hanover Square, Whose chief occupation is filling up brimmers, To solace young gentlemen laden with care." " A coach is at the door," said he. " Shall I bring you another bottle of port?" DRUEY-LANE THEATRE. 75 "Yes. we can manage that," was the reply. After finishing our bottle, we proceeded to Drury Lane Theatre. As we entered the small passage room that leads to the private boxes, I heard a voice that sounded familiar to my ears calling to the box-keeper; I turned round, and recognised in the speaker, although mufiled up and enveloped in a large cloak, my old acquaint- ance, Byron. He gave me a hasty bend of the head, but made no attempt to speak to me ; as the crowd was great, I in a second lost sight of the noble Lord, who, in my own mind, I at once set down as a most capricious being. Although my amour propre had been greatly wounded by the slight offered me, no sooner had I taken my seat than my whole feelings were absorbed with the play, which, although it did not give scope for a full display of Edmund Kean's mighty powers, was a most striking performance. The drop curtain fell upon the second act, and at that moment the box-keeper brought me a note written in pencil, which contained these few words : — " The bearer will bring you to my ' den,' till we meet breathe not the name of B." — What this mystery was I was quite at a loss to solve, but, taking leave of my friends, I followed my guide to the entrance of one of those snug little boxes, face- tiously called hand-boxes, as being close to the orchestra, and, upon entering it, was most cor- dially greeted by Byron, then a member of the committee. " I have a thousand apologies for the ' cut 76 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. direct,' which I was obliged to give you. The fact is, I am here incog. A relative died last week, and I ought to be at home *in sullen black and sackcloth.' * Father-in-law Sir Jacob' would be shocked if he heard that I did not stay at home for Bell's, I mean Lady Birron's (so he pronounced it) uncle. You know that I am now Benedick the married man ; but take a front seat, and listen to the impassioned Reuben and the gentle Rosalie. I must remain in my nook, or to-morrow we shall read in some of the morning papers of ' heartless conduct ' and * atrocious outrage upon decency.' " At the conclusion of the third act I rose to take my leave, but was prevented by my companion, who pressed me to remain. At that moment the door opened, when a man of middle stature and most gentlemanlike appearance entered. " Ah ! Douglas, I'm delighted to see you. Lord William Lennox ; Mr. Douglas Kinnaird. * Mr. Sneer, my dear ; my dear, Mr. Sneer,' as the man says in the farce. Now, after this formal introduction, make yourself at home." " Glorious house to-night," said the new comer, the most sanguine of the committee men. " What will Whitbread say to-night ? He and Cavendish Bradshaw were quite in despair at looking over the receipts of the off-nights." " My young friend would like to go into the green-room," said Byron, "and as we gave out a particular order that no stranger should be ad- mitted, perhaps you will take him round." THE GREEN-ROOM. 77 " What a law-maker — a law-breaker !" responded the other ; " but if Lord "William wishes to go, I shall have great pleasure in escorting him." Delighted at the idea, I gladly availed myself of the offer. After passing through one or two narrow passages, and crossing the stage, we entered that room an introduction to which it had been the height of my ambition to attain. Dowton, Munden, Oxberry, Rae, Wallack, Mesdames Glover, Horn, and Harlowe were assembled there, laugh- ing at some story that had been related by the joyous-hearted and mirthful Elliston; but no sooner did we enter than the greatest reserve came over the hitherto merry coterie. " Ladies and gentlemen for the first scene," said the call- boy, when all required rose to go upon the stage. This movement was a considerable relief to me ; for, although by nature I was neither shy nor diffident, I could scarcely muster up sufficient courage to face this theatrical phalanx. After an introduction to Elliston, who entirely put me at my ease by his open bearing and flow of conversation, I was delighted to return to the box to witness the rest of the performance, but not before I had been called upon to pay my footing to some half-dozen stage-carpenters and scene-shifters who waylaid me at every turn. At the end of the play I took leave of the " Childe," and returned to the box which I had pre- viously occupied, where I was, as it is usually called, "roasted," or, rather, "flayed alive" for my visit behind the scenes, the keen eye of one of my companions having discovered me as I 78 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. flitted beliind the " wings " towards the green- room. That was the last time I ever saw poor Byron. Douglas Kinnaird I constantly met, both at home and abroad, and a more agreeable com- panion I never came in contact with. Upon one occasion, I was partly instrumental in saving him from a most frightful accident. He was riding a spirited horse in the Park, near the Knightsbridge Barracks (that eyesore to London), where I was quartered, when suddenly a dog crossed his path, when the horse reared and fell heavily on the rider. I happened to be lounging on foot near the spot, and ran forward to extricate Kinnaird's foot from the stirrup ; this I succeeded in doing, and then turning round saw him apparently lifeless. Hailing two troopers of my regiment, and sending the orderly for the surgeon, we removed the suffering man on a litter to my room, where every attention was paid him. His collar-bone was set, stimulants to revive him were given, and in three days I was able again to take possession of my room. My next visit to Drury Lane green-room took place some years after, when Kean's faithful friend and ally, the Reverend Edward Cannon, proposed that I should accompany him to see this really " eminent tragedian " in one of his best characters, " Richard the Second," and wind up the evening with a supper at a theatrical tavern in Drury Lane, at that time supported by Kean and his professional friends. I pass over the intermediate hours, and bring my EDMUND KEAN's TIRING-ROOM. 79 readers to the moment wlien, after having hstened to the " wholesome counsel " of Pope in " John of Gaunt," time-honoured Lancaster; witnessed the gallant bearing of Elliston as " Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby;" mourned over the "true- love tears " of Mrs. Bartley, the ill-fated Isabel, daughter of Charles the Sixth of France ; and be- wailed the grief and the death of the unkinged Richard, Cannon suggested that we should go to Kean's dressing-room. " We must go round by the stage-door," said he; " and as the Cerberus knows me, I have no doubt a small douceur will prove a pass to you." " True enough it did ; for slipping a crown piece into the stage-door keeper's hand, he called for Mr. Kean's " dresser," who immediately conducted us to his tiring-room. Here we found Richard of Bordeaux, divested of his state and regal habili- ments, enveloped in a morning wrapper, and enjoy- ing a tumbler of mulled claret. Let me pause, for although I have ventured to obtrude thus far upon his privacy, I do not feel justified in telling the " secrets of the prison house;'' suffice it to say, mirth and good-humour prevailed, and after a brief period we adjourned to the tavern, where, joined by some congenial spirits in and out of the theatrical profession, we kept up our revels to a late, or, rather, early hour of the morning. During the whole of the evening, Kean, unfettered by, what he abhorred, the trammels of fashionable society, gave loose to his natural dis- position ; recounted anecdotes of his early life, 80 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. denounced the sycophants who now courted the man they had attempted to trample upon; extolled those friends who through evil and good report had clung to him ; occasionally bursting forth in quotations of praise and anathema, or charming the senses by the exquisite pathos, the heart-stirring energy, the sublime power in which he acted and sang the " The Storm." From this admirable composition he would turn to Dibdin's ballads, and warble forth the "Jolly Young Waterman," and ** Farewell my well- trimmed wherry," in a manner that, to adapt a line of the first named ditty — " Won every heart and delighted each ear," The death of Lord Byron produced a profound sentiment of sorrow and regret. Men of genius are brethren, in whatever country born or in whatever circle they may be destined to move, and the most distinguished poets of France paid their tribute to the memory of a fellow-bard. M. Casimir Delavigne produced Un B'lthyramhe on the event ; and the author of Les Hellenides (poems in honour of the regenerated Greeks) scattered some flowers on the grave of the noble poet who consecrated his fortune and his talents to the triumph of their cause. The verses of M. Roch abound in fine poetic thoughts. He thus describes Byron's genius : — " Quels acccns ! . . . Ecoutez. . . . sa pensee a des ailes, II couvre d'un regard I'immensite des mers, Et semblable aux esprits des plaiiies eternelles, II vole . . . sans deiguer mesurer I'univers." TRIBUTES TO THE MEMORY OF BYRON. 81 A Greek writer addressed the following invoca- tion to the daughter of the English poet : — " Reste d'un sang si precieux, O toi sa jeune et tendre fille, Viens t'enlever sous le plus beau des cieux, Adopte nous pour ta famille. Oui, jeune enfant, accomplis nos desirs, Que la mer et les vents soient pour toi sans orages, Et que le souffle des zephyrs Te pousse mollement jusque sur nos rivages, Des traits que nous pleurons viens rendre a notre amour L'image toujours cbere Viens, nous t'attendrons cbaque jour Nous gardens le coeur de ton pere." To the credit of France another champion sprang up in the person of Victor Hugo, who thus expresses himself: — " La mort de Byron a cte accueillie dans tout le continent par les signes d'une douleur universelle. Le canon des Grecs a longtemps salue ses restes, un deuil national a consacre la perte de cet etranger parmi les calamites publiques. Les portes orgueil- leuses de Westminster se sont ouvertes comme d'elles-meme, afin que la tombe du poete vint honorer le sepulchre des rois." So wrote the author of " Notre Dame de Paris,'' but to the disgrace of our country, be it said, the doors of Westminster Abbey have been closed against the ashes of Byron. The following stanzas by Miss Landon, written beneath West's portrait of Byron, are not unworthy of the genius of the original. Inspired with admira- tion of his wonderful endowments, and seeking with a generous spirit to forget his errors. Miss Landon VOL. I. G 82 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWX. thus pays her homage to the poet. I give a brief extract from the poem : — " 'Tis with strong feeling that I gaze Upon this brow of thine, Magnificent as if the mind Herself had carved her shrine. An altar into which was given The flowers of earth, the light of heaven. " At the first glance, that eye is proud. But if I read aright, A fountain of secret tears lies hid Beneath its flashing light. Tenderness like a gushing rill Subdued, represt, but flowing still. " Oh, if there be one sullied page Unworthy of thy name, The weakness of a mighty one. To dwell on it were shame, Were cruelty — when thy fine mind Has left such nobler store behind. But thou art with the dead — thy life In such a cause was given, Most glorious in the sight of man, Precious in that of Heaven. Marathon and Thermopylae — Such soil was fitting grave for thee." Alas ! who would have thought that a secluded and small villasfe of Nottiugrh am shire should con- tain, unnoticed and almost unknown, the remains of the great genius of our age ! That no monu- ment in those " temples where the dead are honoured by the nations " should have been erected by England to record the death of the noblest of her sons ! The little Church of Hucknal, three miles to the south of Newstead Abbey, is the resting-place of him who in this BURIAL PLACE OF BYEOX. 83 world found no rest ; and a simple marble tablet the only tribute to his memoiy. This churcli has long been a burial-place of the Byrous. Here the poet's mother, who died at Newstead in 1811, soou after his return from abroad, was baried ; and here, in compliance with a wish he e^Ypressed in his younger and calmer days, and which he appears afterwards at times to have cherished, notwith- standing what is contained in his writings to the contrary, he was himself interred in July, 1824. His coffin lies on the south side of the chancel. In the wall between it and the door is inserted a monumental tablet of white marble set in grey, of which the following is a copy : — In the Vault Beneath Where many of his ancestors and his mother are buried Lie the remains of George Goruon Noel Bykon Lord Byron of Rochdale, In the county of Lancaster The Author of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. He was born in London on the 22nd of January, 1788. He died at Missolonghi in Western Greece on the 19th of April, 1824, Engaged in the glorious attempt to restore that Country to her ancient Freedom and Renown. His Sister the Honourable Augusta Mary Leigh Placed this Tablet to his Memory. Latterly a movement has been made to erect a public monument to his memory, and I trust ere long a suitable tribute will be paid to the immortal and illustrious fame of the first poet of the age in which we live. Q 2 S4t CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. From the time I first met Byron up to the pre- sent, I have ever felt the greatest respect for the ill-fated poet. True he had faults, but who is without them? Among others who have done justice to his memory, in addition to those already referred to, may be mentioned the Duchess d'Abrantes ; there is much truth in the following remarks which I have taken the liberty of translat- ing from excellent French into moderate English, leaving the word mediant to be Anglicised by my readers — wicked is too strong a term, mischievous is too mild. " He was after all much more human and less demoniac than the world believed him to be. No, I do not believe that Lord Byron was half as bad as they made him out ; moreover, I think he was made mediant, but that he was not so by nature. Soured by a deformity in his limbs, and neglected by those who ought to have guided his youthful course, he became reckless and indiflfer- ent to the world's good opinion ; the incense and flatter}^ that were heaped upon him, wdien to use one of his own expressions, ' I awoke and found myself famous,' might have turned a wiser head than his ; while the venomous attacks that were levelled against him were calculated to harden his nature." " TVere't tbe last drop in the well, As I gasp'd upon the brink, Ere my fainting spirit fell, 'Tis to thee that I would drink. " With that water, as this wine, The libation I would pour. Should be — peace with thine and mine And a health to thee, Tom Moore." BTRON. TOM MOORE. 85 It was during a Musical Festival lield at Salisbury, nearly half a century ago, that I first met Thomas, or as he was more familiarly called, " Tom Moore." The town being very full, I had engaged apartments in the suburbs, and finding that the poet was not very comfortable at the crowded inn, I invited him to make use of my rooms whenever he felt dis- posed. To this he cheerfully assented, stipulating, however, that we should mess together for the week. Luckily there was a pianoforte in the draw- ing-room, and with very little persuasion he made good use of it, singing some of his own composi- tions in an unrivalled manner, as far as feeling and sentiment went. Devoted as I am to music, and having heard all the best Italian, German, Swiss, French, and English artists, I own that I never felt so much pleasure in hearing them as I did in listening to the dullest strains of the " Bard of Erin." It was here that I met a young lady, then a very rising artiste, now one of the leaders of fashion in London. My friend Sir Andrew Barnard of the old 95th, now the Rifle Corps, who was devoted to music, and who was ever anxious to assist any rising talent, spoke to me in favour of the above young- lady, then fulfilling an engagement at Covent Garden Theatre. At that period I had never written a line for a newspaper, nor was I ac- quainted with any one connected with what has been justly called the " fourth estate ;" all of a sudden it occurred to me that if I sat down and wrote criticisms to all the London newspapers, 86 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. one or more might appear, and if the worst came to the worst, I should have only had my trouble for nothing. Under this impression, with pro- gramme in hand, I gave a notice of how each artist might perform his or her duties, but wording the notices in the past, not future tenses. Braham headed the list of male singers, and it was not very difi&cult to describe his splendid voice, his exquisite taste, occasionally marred by a desire to please the gallery, and " make the judicious grieve," or his thorough knowledge of music, so I soon did him that justice he so justly merited ; adding that Mr. Braham was enthusiastically encored in that splendid composition of Andrew Cherry's " The Bay of Biscay." This prophecy was, I felt certain, to be realized. After noticing the other singers, I turned to Miss A. G , " whose reception had been most flattering, who had executed the songs allotted to her with a purity of taste and depth of feeling: that at once charmed her auditors." As I had to write for at least ten newspapers, I was obliged to alter the style, and to vary it with the usual phrases " exquisite performance," " native wood notes wild," '* linked sweetness long drawn out," "grace, delicacy, and freshness," "a pure and flowing spring of melody that had its source in nature," " sweet-toned and touching," *' muse of melody thy nurse," " flute-like tones." The mail left Salisbury about the time the concert began, so the letters I despatched by it would reach London in ample time for the evening papers. Most anxiously did I await the arrival of TOM MOOEE. 87 the post on the second morning; to my great delight (for I had written to a newsagent to for- ward me a copy of all the newspapers I had addressed) I found the "Courier," "Sun," and, if I remember right, the " Star" newspapers, con- tained the notices I had sent. Wellington after Waterloo could not have felt prouder than I did when in addition to the above I found that the "Times," "Morning Herald," "Morning Post," and " Morning Chronicle," had inserted my anony- mous contributions. During the day I met Bra- ham, who asked me if I had seen the account of the first concert. " Strange," he continued, " my encore to the ' Bay of Biscay' did not take place till past nine at night, too late for the post, so some one must have sent a special messenger to London. Whoever wrote the criticisms, knew what he was about." I kept my own counsel. There was a honhomie^ a vivacity, a readiness and brilliancy of wit about Moore that was per- fectly irresistible. Moreover, he was, although humbly born, one of " Nature's gentlemen.'' According to his own account, he was born on the 28th of May, 1779, at a grocer's shop in Dublin. His parents, though low in the social scale, were not vulgar. The Reverend Edmund D. Griffin, that en- lightened American, born " On Susquehanna's side, sweet Wyoming, whose heart never took kindly to England, in a very spirited description of a dinner given by that 88 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Anak of publishers (as Byron called him), the late John Murray, vividly records his impression of the Bard of Erin : — "Mr. Moore was induced to seat himself at the piano, and indulged his friends with two or three of his own Irish melodies. I cannot de- scribe to you his singing ; it is perfectly unique. The combination of music and of poetic sentiment, emanating from one mind, and glowing in the very countenance, and speaking in the very voice which that same mind illuminates and directs, pro- duces an effect upon the eye, the ear, the taste, the feeling, the whole man in short, such as no mere professional excellence can at all aspire to equal. His head is cast backwards, and his eyes upward, with the true inspiration of an ancient bard. His voice, though of little compass, is inexpressibly sweet. He realized to me in many respects my conceptions of the poet of love and wine ; the re- fined and elegant, though voluptuous Anacreon. The modern poet has more sentiment than the Greek, but can lay no claim (what modern author can ?) to the same simplicity and purity of taste. His genius, however, is more versatile. The old voluptuary complains of his inability to celebrate a warlike theme ; his lyre will not obey the impulse of his will. But the author of the " Fire Worship- pers " gave us, in the course of the evening, an Irish rebel's song, which was absolutely thrilling. Anacreon was, however, afterwards restored to us in a drinking song, composed to be sung at a con- vivial meeting of an association of gentlemen." ENGLISH COMPOSERS. 89 Thanks to the poetry of Moore, and music of Sir John Stevenson, the Irish melodies have earned a world-wide fame. They are exquisite for grace of diction, for beauty of imagery, and for a re- fined and ideal kind of pathos. They are gems for the drawing-room, and admirable as such. It would be an endless task to enumerate the ballads, the songs, the operas of purely English growth, which have gratified, and still gratify, thousands ; and although I frankly admit that Italy has produced some of the finest composers, and that the German school, less fluent, perhaps, in the production of melody, but developing wonderful efforts in instrumentation, stands scarcely inferior to the Itahan, England can boast of composers of extraordinary merit, rivalling Italy in melody and Germany in instrumentation. Were I to require an illustration, I should find it in the compositions of Balfe, John Barnett, W. E. Bennett, Bishop, F. Blewitt, John Blockley, Braham, " Claribel," Cummings, "Dolores," Dibdin, Dolby (Sainton), Fricker (Anne), Gabriel (Virginia), Gray (Louisa), Gatty, F. L. Hatton, C. Horn, Hullah, J. P. Knight, W. E. Levey, Miss M. Lindsay, G. Linley, G. Loder, Alexander Lee, T. Moore, Macfarren, Alfred Mellon, F. Mori, J. E. Molloy, L. Nelson, Philp (Ehzabeth), Brinley Richards, H. Russell, H. Smart, Sir John Stephen- son, A. S. Sulhvan, Linsay Sloper, A. W. Wade, W. L. Wallace, and W. T. Wrightson. Carlyle calls songs, " little dewdrops of celestial melody," and many such dewdrops, the above 90 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. composers whose names I have given alphabetically have produced. Many of our best writers in prose and poetry have extolled ballads. Turner tells us they can be traced to the Anglo-Saxon, and that Canute composed one. Fletcher, of Saltoun, says, " Give me the writing of the ballads, and you make the laws." Lamb calls them "the vocal portraits of the national mind ;" and Longfellow describes them as "the gipsy children of song, born under green hedgerows, in the leafy-lanes, and bye-paths of literature in the genial summer time." Here I may remind my readers that minstrels were pro- tected by a charter of Edward IV., but by a statute of Elizabeth "they were made punish- able among rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy beggars." Music cannot fail to enlist the sympathies of everybody, and in support of this assertion let me quote the following authorities. Luther tells us " Music is the art of the Prophets, the only art that can calm the agitation of the soul ; it is one of the most magnificent and dehghtful presents God has given us." Hogg thus expresses the same sentiment in verse : — " Of all the arts beneath the Heaven That man has found, or God has given. None draws the sdul so sweet away, As music's melting, mystic lay ; Slight emblem of the bliss above It soothes the spirit all to love." Beveridge, Bishop of St. Asaph, an eminent THE PRAISE OF MUSIC. 91 Oriental scholar and theologian, Author of " Private Thoughts on Religion," 1638-1708, writes as fol- lows : — " That which I have found the best recrea- tion both to my mind and body is music. It calls in my spirits, compresses my thoughts, delights my ear, recreates my mind, and so not only fits me for after business, but fills my heart at the present with pure and useful thoughts, so that when the music sounds the sweetest in my ears, truth commonly fl.ows the clearest into my mind, and hence it is that I find my soul is become more harmonious by being accustomed so much to harmony and so averse to all manner of discord that the least jarring sounds, either in notes or words, seem very harsh and unpleasant to me." Milton, in describing the enravishment of music, says : " I was all ear, and took in strains that might create a soul under the ribs of death." Beddoes, a distinguished physician and chemist, cotemporary with Priestley and in intimate acquaint- ance with Dr. Darwin, thus speaks of song : — " Come then a song; a winding gentle song To lead me into sleep. Let it be low As zephyr telling secrets to his rose, For I would hear the murmuring of my thoughts And more of voice than of that other music That grows around the strings of quivering lutes. But most of thought; for with my mind I listen And when the leaves of sound are shed upon it, If there's no seed, remembrance grows not there. So life, so death ; a song and then a dream Begin before another dewdrop falls From the soft hold of those disturbed flowers, For sleep is filling up my senses fast, And from these words I sink." 92 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Carlyle, in describing the influence of music, thus writes : " The meaning of song goes deep. Who is there that, in logical words, can express the effect music has on us ? A kind of inarti- culate, unfathomable speech, which leads us to the edge of the infinite, and lets us for a moment gaze into that." One more quotation, and I will conclude. Douglas Jerrold, in speaking of a maiden's vocal accents, says, " Her voice would coax a nail out of heart of oak." 93 N E L E M E N. JOHN GEOEGE LAMBTON, THE LATE EARL OF DUEHAM. CHAPTER V. VISIT TO LAMBTON CASTLE — RACES — GENTLEMEN EIDERS — JOHN MILLS — A DUEL PREVENTED — LAMBTON'S VENOMOUS ATTACK ON PHILPOTTS, BISHOP OF EXETER — SPLENDID SPEAKERS — AN UNFORTUNATE POST-PRANDIAL ORATOR — HUNT, THE RADICAL MEMBER FOR PRESTON — AFTER-DINNER SPEECHES — A ROTTEN BOROUGH — FALSE RETURN. "With honest dignity, with manly sense, And every charm of natural eloquence, Like Hampden struggling in his country's cause, The first, the foremost to obey the laws The last to brook oppression. On he moves Careless of blame while his own heart approves." S. ROGERS, " HUMAN LIFE." " Thou hast achieved a part; hast gain'd the ear of Britain's senate." — cowpee. FOR many years I was on intimate terms of friendship with John George Lambton, after- wards Earl of Durham. Born in 1792, he was returned as Member of Parhament for his native county in 1813. In 1821 he distinguished him- 94 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. self as a Parliamentary Reformer; in 1830 joined Earl Grey's Administration as Lord Privy Seal. In 1833 he proceeded to St. Petersburg as British Ambassador to the Court of Russia, and subse- quently became Governor-General of Canada. Previous to the above appointments abroad, he had been raised to the Peerajre in 1828 as Baron Durham, and advanced to the Viscountcy of Lambton and Earldom of Durham in 1833. During my dancing days at the then exclusive and fashion- able Almacks, and other balls, I became acquainted with the Ladies Grey ; and meeting Mr. and Lady Louisa Lambton at Stapleton Park, the seat of Edward Petre (ill-naturedly called "Petre, the Creatur"), he invited me to Lambton Castle. Previous to that I felt much in awe of Lambton, and rather avoided his presence ; that fear, how- ever, was scattered to the winds one morning by the following: incident. We had been discussing his temper, which John Mills declared to be awful ; Duncorabe, " England's pet and Finsbury's glory," took his part, assuring us that except on political subjects Lambton was as Dr. Ollapod says in the play " meek as a mushroom, mild as an emulsion." At that moment I was turning over the pages of " Don Juan," and happened to alight upon those lines of Byron's where he describes the young hero after his ship- wreck being watched over by the old smuggler and fisherman's daughter, the fair Haidee. The stanza runs as follows : — VISIT TO LAMBTON CASTLE. 95 " And she bent o'er him, and he lay beneath, Hush'd as the babe upon its mother's breast, Droop'd as the willow when no winds can breathe , Lull'd like the depth of ocean when at rest. Fair as the crowning rose of the whole wreath, Soft as the callow cygnet in its nest ; In short he was a very pretty fellow, Altho' his woes had turn'd him rather yellow." " How applicable to Lambton !" I exclaimed, repeating the last two lines, thus wishing to stop an argument between John Mills and Thomas Slingsby Duncombe, which was beginning to get fast and furious. Little aware that the individual I had thus alluded to was just behind rae, I did not attend to a sign made me by Mills to be silent. " Let me hear the lines again," said Lambton in the most bland manner. I repeated them. "Well, I'm glad," he continued, "I am described as a very pretty fellow ; as for my colour I am more indebted to nature than to grief." From that moment all reserve passed away, and nothing could be more friendly than the manner in which he welcomed me to Lambton Castle. Upon my being announced, after shaking me by the hand, he said in perhaps too much of a theatrical manner, *' If there's anything you require during your visit here, you shall have it from Durham in less than an hour ; if not to be had there, from London in six and twenty hours." The Castle is beautifully situated on an eminence on the north bank of the Eiver Wear. It was 96 CELEBEITIES I HAVE KNOWN. erected by Bonomi, and comparatively speaking is of recent date. The library, a quadrangular apart- ment of good proportions with a gallery round it, and well filled with a splendid collection of books, is one of the snuggest rooms I ever was in. Among the family portraits in this and other rooms in the Castle are a full length of General John Lambton, Colonel of the 68th Foot, who repre- sented Durham in six Parliaments, painted by Reynolds, and one of Master Lambton, the work of an equally celebrated artist. Sir Thomas Law- rence. In Surtees' History of the County of Durham, the following passage occurs : — • " No earher owners of Lambton are on record than the ancient and honourable family which still bears the local name. The regular pedigree can only be traced from the twelfth century, many of the family records being destroyed in the civil wars ; but the previous residence of the family is well proved by attestations of charters and incidental evidence, from a period very nearly approaching the Roman Conquest." Many of the ancestors of the present head of the family were distinguished in the army, and in the Senate, among them Colonel Sir William Lambton, who fell at Marston Moor ; William, son of Henry Lambton, represented Durham in seven- teen Parliaments ; Henry, Ralph John, William Henry, and Hedworth, were all in their day mem- bers for the above borough. Nothing could be more splendid than the hospitality at Lambton Castle. Every morning the well- trained butler STAPLETON PARK RACES. 97 rapped at the door during your toilet to say that a carriage, or riding-horse, would be at your dis- posal at any hour you might require it ; he then named the hour for breakfast, luncheon, and dinner. During my visit Lambton Park Races, confined to gentleman riders, took place, and a more delightful gathering cannot be imagined. Among the amateur jockeys were the present Duke of Portland, then Lord John Bentinck, the late Lord Muncaster, John Mills, T. S. Duncombe, and John White. Here and at Stapleton Park 1 was particularly fortunate, as the following extract from the return " Card and Sheet List" will show. SrAPLETON Park Races. A Snuff-box, given by T. L. Fox, Esq., M.P. list, each, half a mile : Mr. Fox's " Snuff-box," by Whitelock, Lord W. Lennox. ....... 1 Mr. Lambton's " Malcolm." .... 2 Mr. Petre's " Mustachio." .... 3 A winning jockey is never in want of masters, and my services were next retained by my host. Match 50 Guineas. Mr. Petre's " Mustachio," Lord W. Lennox, beat Mr. Lascelles' " Misconception." One mile. Match 50 Guineas. Mr. Fox's "Snuff-box" beat Mr. Jones, B.G. " Screwdriver," lOst. lOlbs. each. Half a mile. Lambton Park, Thursday, October 17, 1822. Match 100 Guineas. Mr. Fox's " Snuff-box," by Whitelock, 4 years old, list. 71bs., Lord W. Lennox, beat Mr. T. S. VOL. I. H 98 CELEBRITIES I HAVE K^'O^Y^^ Duncombe's "Blue Devil," lOsfc .71bs. A. F. even betting. Match 50 Guineas, Friday 18th. Mr. Fox's " Snuff-box", Lord W. Lennox, beat Mr. Lorraine's " The Rising Sun," lOst. lOlbs. Two miles. Mr. Fox's "Snuff-box," 4 year old, 10st.l21bs., re- ceived forfeit from Mr. Petre's " Sam," list. Gibs. 100 guineas, H. F. George Lane Fox was one of the kindest, most hospitable creatures imaginable, and I look back with pleasure to the happy days I passed with him, and his most amiable wife at Bramham Park. It was in consequence of my winning for him the Snuff-box he had given to be run for, that the animal I rode received that name. Unable to attend the Lambton Park Meetings he sent " Snuff- box" there, and gave me carte hianche to make any matches I liked, or to enter him for any plates. The result was that, after winning the Snuff-box and fifty guineas for him at Stapleton Park, I was fortunate enough to land two matches, one of one hundred guineas, and the other of fifty guineas, and to receive for him half forfeit fifty guineas. The " tottle of the whole," as that excellent economical reformer, Joseph Hume, was wont to say, was a Gold Snuff-box, and two hun- dred and fifty guineas. From Lambton Castle I proceeded with my host to visit Mr. Wyvill at Constable Burton, and Frederick Lumley at Tickhill Castle, stopping at the latter place for the Doncaster week. Travel- lambton's temper. 99 ling as I did aloDe with Lambton in his carriage and four, I had every opportunity of studying his character, and I came to the conclusion that, albeit extremely kind-hearted and amiable when pleased, his temper was far from even. Often did I find him bursting out with passion when thwarted; so, feeling myself like a man seated on a barrel of gunpowder with a cigar in his mouth, not knowing how sudden an explosion might take place, I care- fully avoided any discussion that could lead to an argument. Upon one occasion at Doncaster, he asked me to order dinner at the " Angel Inn," where we were to dress previous to the race ball. This I attended to ; the party invited consisting of eight — two married couples, Lambton, myself, and two bachelors. Something, though I know not what, went wrong during dinner, and the moment it was over my companion abruptly left the room, pleading that he had some letters to write. As a matter of course, the bill was brought to me, and as the charges were considerably higher during the race-week, and I have no doubt are equally so now, the amount was rather a heavy draw upon my purse ; for at that period I was living on my pay, with only an allowance of a hundred a year. As, however, we were to proceed on a visit to Tickhill Castle the followino; mornins:, I antici- pated that the noble John George would refund the money. Such was not the case, and I could only attribute this single act of illiberality to forget- fulness. He had evidently been *' ryled" during H 2 100 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. dinner, so much so, that even at the ball he had not recovered his equanimity — that probably drove the bill out of his head. At that period, alluding to reform, the cry was, " The Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing but the Bill !" and I certainly should have been pleased if the Great Reformer had, in parliamentary language, "voted for the supplies," and not "thrown out the Bill." From what I have said, it must not be inferred that Lambton, like some millionaires, was liberal on some points and mean upon others, for with all his faults he possessed " the heart of generosity." Of him it may be truly said : — " Tie bath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as daj* for melting charity." I have already remarked that John George Lambton was not blessed with what is called the best of tempers, but even w^hen offended he could in a great degree smother his anger, and not give vent to an avalanche of hasty words. I recollect upon one occasion, during the race meeting at Lambton Park, a meeting confined solely to gentle- men riders, when he was "awfully ryled," and justly so, by a remark of one of his guests. It was the custom after the first day's racing was over to handicap the horses for the following day ; and the handicappers selected were men of the highest character. No sooner had the ladies left the 7'oom after dinner than the weights were read out by the host, who, I need scarcely add, had nothing to do with them. As the event of the week was A DUEL PREVENTED. 101 the Lambton Park Stakes, every attention was paid to the reading of the list. There were at least twelve horses entered, including two of our host's. The moment the speaker had finished, John Mills, one of the dandy lot, albeit a tolerably good gentleman jockey, cried out : — "Absurd! I name the winner for a hundred, and will take short odds Lambton runs first and second." A dead silence ensued. Sitting next to Lambton I could observe his features — a dark scowl came over his fine forehead, his face became flushed, then deadly pale ; he was about to reply, but from his ag^itated state he could not 2:ive utterance to his words. After a moment's reflec- tion, his features became restored to their usual placidity, when he quietly turned to me, and said : — " William Lennox, I make you a present of the horse Mr. Mills " (a great stress on Mr.) *' has made first favourite, run him in your name, select your own rider. I'll do the same to you, Duncombe, with Mr. Mills' second favourite ; and now," turning to Mills, he said, " I accept the bet, make it five hundred or a thousand, that neither of my horses, which you consider so highly favoured, is either first or second." Tommy Duncombe tried in a good-humoured off- hand manner to put Mills' unfortunate remark in a better light, and I followed suit, but with no effect. Lambton quietly remarked, " I cannot submit 102 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. to an insult, an insult against my honour," then rising from his seat, in a dignified and perfectly quiet manner, he said, " If you have had wine enough, gentlemen, perhaps you would like to join the ladies." In the meantime, those around John Mills were doing their best to induce him to offer an apology, for the manner in which he pro- posed the bet was unquestionably offensive. Nothing more was openly said that night, although the question was freely discussed in small cliques of two or three, the general impres- sion being that a duel would be the result. The feeling was confirmed by Lambton calling Buncombe aside, and retiring with him into the library. Happily an amicable arrangement was brought about, John Mills expressing his deep regret that, in a moment of excitement, he had uttered words that could in the slightest degree give his friend and host pain. This candid ex- pression was received in the most noble spirit — at breakfiist on the following morning a cordial shake of the hand put an end to this untoward affair. It would, indeed, have been sad if the second day's racing had commenced with a passage at arms, I might here add that there was no ground for Mills' remark, Lambton's horses, both admirably ridden, were not placed. During the time I was member for King's Lynn my elder brother joined the Liberal Govern- ment under Lord Grey, of which Lord Durham was also a member. I, therefore, saw a great deal THE LATE EARL GREY. 103 of these illustrious statesmen. Never did I know a man who was more dignified in the Senate than the late Earl Grey ; in private life, he was the most amiable character I ever met with. I have known "Wellington, whose life was England's glory; Liverpool, who held the Premier- ship from 1812 to 1827; the proud, defiant, when assailed, Castlereagh ; the accomplished Melbourne ; the plain, blunt, kind-hearted man, a zealous advocate for agricultural improvements, Spencer ; the classical and staunchest of Whigs, Holland ; the refined patron of arts and sciences, Lansdowne ; the liberal yet scornful Canning, who revolted against popularity ; the reserved yet honest Peel ; that bold spirit in a loyal breast, the enlightened philanthropist, the splendid lawyer and orator. Brougham ; the up- right Judge Denman ; the " fiery Rupert of Debate," Stanley ; the fine old English gentle- man, Burdett; one and all of the above were equally conspicuous as great statesmen and for their amiable qualities in private life. Despite these, and the authority of the erudite Mrs. Malaprop that " comparisons are odorous," I will fearlessly avow that, in ray humble opinion, no man ever excelled the late Earl Grey as a senator, or as a loyal, just, and upright gentleman ; and his mantle has descended to one whose abilities in the House of Lords prove him to be " a worthy scion of a worthy sire." I now turn to the part Durham took during the passing of the Reform Bill in 1832. 104 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWX. A Committee of the Cabinet was formed to draw out the Reform Bill, consisting of Durham, Lord Duneannon, Sir James Graham, and Lord John Russell ; their instructions, although general, amounted to this : " That the measure should be largo enough to satisfy at once the public opinion, and prevent any further change; but which, while thus extensive, should be based on, and connected with, existing territorial divisions and rights. The Constitution was not to be trenched upon, but the House of Commons was really to represent the intelligence, property, and feeling of the people." When the question of " peer-making," as William the Fourth termed it, was brought forward, Durham and Brougham strenuously supported the measure as ab- solutely necessary under existing circumstances, an:iufr to me overheard, so turning away for a moment he said, "I beg your Grace's pardon, the line you refer to will soon be a well-paying one." When coffee was announced YOUNG HUDSON. 189 the Railway King: remarked, " Three live Dukes ! well, I never before sat down with three live Dukes." The trio consisted of the Dukes of Buck- ingham, Newcastle, and our host. Shortly after the above dinner had taken place, young Hudson, tlien about seventeen years of age, was invited to Goodwood durius^ the races. Even at that early age he could take good care of him- self. Thinking it right to do at Rome as the Ro- mans do (the Greeks, would, perhaps, be more appropriate), or, to adopt a Hudsouian lapsus linguce, " to do in Turkey what the turkeys do," young Hudson had provided himself with a betting book, and had entered a few bets. Thinking he might, as a novice, have had the worst of the betting, I asked him to let me look at his book, when to my surprise I found that, according to the odds, he had the best of every wager he made. After dinner a hoax was played upon him by some young fellows, who, like the engineer men- tioned by Shakespeare, were " hoisted on their own petard." The moment the ladies had retired from the dinner table, a note was brought to Hudson, written in pencil, bearing the signature " Beaufort," saying " that on the ' Cup day' an immemorial custom existed of proposing the health of the noble host, and that the honour of proposing it was always entrusted to the youngest visitor. Under this cir- cumstance the Duke of Beaufort trusted that Mr. Hudson would undertake the pleasing duty." " Is it true ?" aske.d the young man, addressing 190 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Lord Derby, " that the Duke's health is always drunk on such occasions?" Unaware of the hoax, he replied that it always was, and that it was generally done the moment the ladies left the room. In a few seconds Hudson was on his legs, much to the surprise of all, more especially the host, when in a few and appropriate words the son of the Railway King made a speech that would have done credit to one of more mature years. He apologised for his presumption, eulo- gised the Duke, and pointed out the advantage of manly Englisli sports. So pertinent were his re- marks, so unassuming was his manner, that those who " came to scoff remained to pay" a tribute to the youthful orator's unaffected eloquence. My brother, in responding to the toast, paid a just com- pliment to the kind feeling and good taste of the proposer of it, and young Hudson was never made acquainted with the breach of etiquette he had un- wittingly committed. " Where ignorance is bliss," so runs the proverb, " 'tis folly to be wise." In this instance the young speaker enjoyed all the bliss of ignorance. I have already said that I knew little of the Railway King and Queen during their prosperity, when the highest nobles of the land paid homage to them ; but when the time arrived that, in the words of the ambitious Cardinal Wolsey, Hudson could exclaim, " Farewell, a long farewell to all my great- ness," I got better acquainted with the family. It came about in this way. One day when I was going out of ray small bachelor's snuggery, No. 1, Ber- THE DEPOSED EAILWAY KING. 191 keley Square — a house which Alfred d'Orsaj said resembled a pianoforte, broad at one end and narrow at the other — a carriage drove up to the door. The footman approached me, touched his hat, and begged that I would step to the carriage. This I accord- ingly did, and there 1 saw a lady, whom I did not recognise, and who evidently did not recognise me. "I beg a thousand pardons," she said, " I under- stood Captain Williams lived at number one ; that is the address Mr. Hudson gave me." It then flashed across my mind that the visitor was the deposed railway queen. " Have I the pleasure of addressing Mrs. Hud- son ?" I asked. The lady replied, " Yes." '* Then I ought to apologise," I continued, " for we met some few years ago at my brother's, the Duke of Richmond, in Portland Place ; your veil entirely hid your features." From that moment we got on very friendly terms. I own I felt deeply at the change that had taken place in the feelings of the upper ten thousand towards those whom they had raised to a pinnacle of fame, and whom now they sought carefully to avoid. King Hudson (I enter not into the reasons) had been deposed ; the sycophants that had fawned upon him when in prosperity now turned away in scorn, forgetting the " good things " he had put many of them up to. Well might he have ex- claimed in the words of Shakespeare : — 192 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. " 'Tis certain greatness, once fallen out with fortune. Must fall out with men too: What the dechn'd is, He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall ; for men, like butterflies. Show not their mealy wings, but to the summer." Mrs. Hudson felt the change acutely, not so much on her own account as on that of her daughter and sous. Previous to their leaving England I saw a good deal of them, and after a time the slight ac- quaintance ripened into a warm friendship. One malapropism attributed to Mrs. Hudson, I have omitted. Upon asking Lord Lansdowne whose bust it was that formed a prominent feature in his gallery, she was told " Marcus Aurelius." " Marcus Aurelius," she answered, " the late Mar- quis, I suppose ?" 193 MEN ABOUT TOWN. SIR GEORGE WO MB WELL. CHAPTER X. THE LATE SIR GEORGE WOMBWELL — THE TENTH, OR PRINCE OF wales' ROYAL HUSSARS — AN ELEGANT EXTRACT — A LOVE AFFAIR — SUICIDE THREATENED — " ALL's WELL THAT ENDS WELL." " There's many a lad I liked is dead, And many a lass grown old. And as the lesson strikes my head. My heavy heart grows cold." MORRIS. " See what a grace was seated on his brow ! Hyperion's curls." SHAKESPEARE. AMONG the "old familiar faces," that of the late Sir George Wombwell was perhaps the best known about town. His first ancestor on record was Robert Wombwell, who lived temp. Stephen, a person of consideration in that era, deriving his surname from the place of his residence, Womb- well, in the county of York. George Wombwell, as he was familiarly called, was born on the 13th of April, 1792, and succeeded his father in 1846. In 1824 he married Georgiana, second daughter of VOL. 1. 194 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Thomas Orby Hunter, Esq., of Crowland Abbey, Liucolnsbire, and bad four sons ; the eldest of whom, the present baronet, distinp^uished himself in the glorious but fatal charge of Balaclava, where he was wounded, taK:en prisoner, and escaped. At an early age the late George Wombwell entered the 10th, or Prince of Wales's Own Hussars, and few men of that gallant corps kept the game alive more than he did. He was a neat horseman, possessing a remarkably fine hand, and could ride well to hounds. Although a constant attendant at Epsom, Ascot, Goodwood, and Doncaster, he was never on the turf. He served with the 1 0th in the Penin- sula, and like his brother officers, all dashing young men, was ever foremost in the fray. It so hap- pened that the English 10th Hussars often came in contact with the French Tenth Hussars, and on outpost duty they often crossed sabres. Upon one occasion Wombwell's men were foraging, when all of a sudden they discovered their immediate enemies employed in the same manner, carrying away sundry trusses of hay from a farmyard. The numbers were so greatly in favour of the French that our gallant fellows seemed to hesitate, nor were their foes apparently more desirous for a conflict. " I sa}^ my men," said the young Hussar in his pecu- liar voice, " I really don't know which are the greatest cowards, you or the French ; but come what may, I'll have a turn at them. We can't return without forage." So reining up his charger, and drawing his sword, he said, " Come on !" adding, " That's right, my fine fellows !" as the whole THE LATE SIR GEORGE WOMBWELL. 195 of his detachment followed their young chief. The French retired, forage was procured, and the hero of that morning was warmly commended by his captain. Every military man knows full well what effect the words " come on" produce, and every private soldier of the cavalry or infantry equally well knows the difference between " come on" and " go on." The former is obeyed with alacrity and good will, the latter only as a point of duty. At the termination of the war the Tenth were, by the special desire of their Colonel, the Prince Regent, quartered at Preston Barracks, Brighton, with a squadron at Chichester for coast duty, the smugglers being alone kept in order by the dragoons. Shortly afterwards they were removed to Romford, where the court-martial on Colonel Quentin took place, which ended in his acquittal ; a severe reprimand followed to those officers who signed the round robin (among them George Womb well), the purport of which was to demand an inquiry into their com- manding officer's conduct in the Peninsula, and the offenders were dispersed among other regiments. Disgusted with the above proceeding, this " Elegant Extract" retired from the service. In calmly looking over the court-martial, a copy of which I had the pleasure of presenting to the present Tenth when quartered at Brighton, it must strike every impartial person, that Quentin had not sufficient dash about him, albeit the charge of cowardice ought never to have been made. He was a German by birth, an excellent horseman, and was the first to introduce the foreign cavalry seat. 2 19G CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. He, moreover, knew how the peHsse should be slung, and the proper cut of the Hessian boot. Un- questionably under his auspices the men were well set up, so much so that the new system captivated the heart of the heir to the throne. With the officers, Quentin, from a variety of causes, was never popular, the most inexcusable one being his depriving them of all authority, doing himself the duty of colonel, captain, adjutant, and riding- master. With the men he was extremely popular, being over-lenient. So long as they were on home service, things went on tolerably smooth, but when the regiment was ordered abroad to join Welling- ton's army in the Peninsula, affairs took a different aspect, more especially as for a time they were com- manded by a most humane but strict disciplinarian. Colonel Palmer. He found the evil ^effects of the lenient system, the cases of drunkennness were numerous, and corporal punishments ensued. A few more weeks under Palmer would probably have rendered the corps what it afterwards was, and still is, one of the most distinguished in the service ; but Quentin rejoined, and the old system was revived. That tended to cause a bad feeling in the regiment, which smouldered during the war, but which broke out after it returned home. So proud was the Prince Regent of the prowess of his own hussars, that he had them quartered at Brighton, sending a squadron from that place to act as a guard of honour to the foreign potentates who flocked to our shores after the peace of 1814. Then followed, to the great disgust of the Prince, the " round robin," AFFAIRE DE CCEUR. 197 the court-martial, and its results. Tliat there was everything that could constitute good soldiers (bar- ring the indiscretion above referred to) among the " Elegant Extracts" is proved by the manner in which all who remained in the service afterwards distinguished themselves. There were two gallant Plantagenets, the late Duke of Beaufort, and Henry Somerset, Arthur Hill, afterwards Lord Sandys, Horace Seymour, Henry Wyndham, and others whose names have escaped ray memory. To return to George Womb well. Heir to a large estate, very good-looking, having the finest black curly head of hair ever seen, and possessing the neatest figure, with conversational powers of no mean extent, it is not to be wondered at, especially after his return from the wars, that he was feted by all the elite of London society, and soon became an established favourite. Although the cases of dying for love are, like angels' visits, " few and far between," I well re- member an affaire de coeur, which at the time I, being young and inexperienced, fancied might end tragically. One day, when walking along Bond Street, then the fashionable lounge from four to six during the winter months, I met George Wombwell, who was talking to a young, closely-veiled lady, her female attendant keeping at a respectable distance. The lady was evidently in a great state of excite- ment, the gentleman in vain trying the soothing system. All of a sudden the maid was despatched with a message to a shop in Conduit Street, and told to rejoin her mistress in half an hour at the 198 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. corner of Old Bond Street. The young lady, in a voice loud enough for me to bear, exclaimed, "I cannot survive the shock. You will never see me again." She then abruptly left Wombwell. In the mean- time he had requested me not to go away, so I re- mained patiently awaiting his bidding. " Follow her, I implore you, and reason with her. She's threatened to destroy herself. Tell her I'll write when I get home. Off I started, but the affrighted girl had sped away like a fairy; at length I caught a glimpse of her, as she entered a gunmaker's shop in St. James's Street. Hastening forward, I found the incognita inspecting a pistol, which she said she wished to purchase and take home to her brother. I approached respectfully, requesting the young lady to allow me a few moments' private conver- sation with her, at the same time telling the gun- maker I would call again about the pistol. After a considerable delay she consented to hear what I had to say ; it was fortunately dark, so, had T wished it, I could not have recognised the features of the fair but distressed one. " If we go to Grange's," said I, " we shall be uninterrupted." " I consent," she replied, "if you will give me your word of honour that you will not attempt to discover who I am." I gave her that assurance, and we were soon in the back-room at Grange's, in Piccadilly. At that period, and, for all I know to the contrary, Grange's LA rOLLE TAE L*AMOUR. 199 is as it was, the resort of the fashion. The owner was famed for having the best soups in winter, the best ices in summer, and the best coffee throughout the year. Quahty not quantity, both as regards the habitues and the luxuries they partook of, might have been the motto of the establishment. There might be had the melting peach, the tempting reddish-brown nectarine, the pale yellow apricot, the luscious grape, the ripe pear, the crisp Eibston pippin, the finest strawberries, and the richest cream. There was no counter laid out with cakes, Bath buns, meat pies, raspberry tarts, stewed pears, jellies in glasses, gingerbread nuts, cherries pre- served in brandy, and sticks of barley-sugar ; and no odour from a kitchen in which ox-tail, mulliga- tawny, pea, mock-turtle, gravy, and vermicelli soups were being prepared ; all was as bright and fresh-looking in summer and winter as the choicest flowers, evergreens, holly, and mistletoe could make it. To this fruiterer's I escorted the unknown, whose face, like that of Zephyrina, in " La Dama Duende," translated under the title of " The Lady and the Devil," " was covered with a mystifying black veil of a duenna-like thickness, muffling every charm as obscurely as would a total eclipse of the moon." Bound by honour not to attempt to dis- cover my companion, after ordering two cups of coffee, one of which remained untouched, I began to urge my friend's suit, and pointed out the wicked- ness of suicide. Finding that had no effect, I changed my tactics; told her it was a curious way of winning a man, for, if carried out, " funeral 200 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. baked meats," not a wedding breakfast, would be •the result, and concluded by saying that Wombwell would at once communicate by letter or m person with her. Not wishing to prolong the monologue, I suggested that the maid might be surprised at her mistress's absence, upon which my incognita rose, took my arm — for in those days ladies never walked un-armed — crossed the road to the biscuit shop at the corner of Old Bond Street, where the faithful attendant was in waiting. *' I shall expect to hear from him," said la folle ixir Vamoiiv, in a low voice. " For your kindness," she continued, in a louder tone, " I shall ever feel grateful." To Wombwell I reported all that had taken place ; but what occurred between the two lovers I know not, for it was too delicate a subject to touch upon, and after a time the affair was entirely banished from my mind. Many years had elapsed when, during a winter's residence at Leamington, some members of the club to which I belonged proposed giving a fancy dress ball at the Regent Hotel. The proposition was carried, and I formed one of the committee. The arrangement was that invitations to the Lord- Lieutenant of the County and the officers quar- tered in the neisrhbourhood should be sent from the collective body, each member to have an equal portion of tickets for private circulation. At that period the head-quarters of a smart Hussar regi- ment was stationed at Coventry, and all the officers then on duty there, with the exception of the A FANCY-DRESS BALL. 201 quarter and riding-master, who remained in charge of the barracks, accepted the invitation. The evening arrived, and as the proprietor of the leading newspaper was anxious to give an accurate descrip- tion of the costumes, the Committee had requested every lady and gentleman to bring their cards with them, and write on the back the costume and cha- racter in which they appeared. Soon after ten o'clock, Turks, Swedes, Neapolitans, Russians, Greeks, Italians, and Swiss were intermingled with oflBcers in uniform. There might be seen gitanas, vivandieres, peasants, sultanas, ladies of the Courts of Louis XIV., Charles the Second, the third George, flower girls. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Night, Undines, fairy queens, with Cava- liers, Eoundheads, Corsairs, Dons, Sultans, mata- dors, hermits, Rob Roys, pilgrims, pages, jesters, and pens of Leicesters — bipeds, not quadrupeds. Among the earliest of the arrivals were the officers of the Hussars, and those of the i>3rd Highlanders, all looking resplendent in the handsome uniform then worn by the Hussars and the picturesque costume still in existence in the Highland corps. At many assemblies, especially country ones, the names of the guests are not announced in that loud and distinct manner in which the stentorian voice of the toast-master at the Mansion House, London, gives the titles and names of the visitors to whom *' the Lord and Lady Mayoress drink in a loving cup, and w^ish a hearty welcome ;" it was therefore next to impossible to understand a rather superannuated butler whom we had engaged on the above occasion. 202 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWX. On the arm of a Hussar officer, evidently from his appearance one of a high grade, hung as beau- tiful a representative of the ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots, as I ever beheld. There was a look of deep thought, a pensiveness about the eyes, that well suited the daughter of James V. Her costume was faultless. It consisted of white satin, with a train and long sleeves, acorn-shaped silver buttons, and a trimming of pearls ; part of the sleeves open, beneath which appeared others of purple velvet; her dress was of lawn edged with lace ; a veil of the same material, edged in the same manner, flowed from the back of her head over a slight but graceful form. Stationed at the entrance with my confreres to receive our guests, it was impossible to do more than to shake hands with our acquaintances, and bow to strangers ; unfortunately, just as the beau- teous Queen entered, a fussy old lady, in the guise of Queen Bess, rushed forward to introduce me to two gawky daughters, who appeared as Minna and Brenda, their only resemblance to those characters being in the colour of their hair. " You must get them partners, dear Lord AVilliam, for they dance charmingly." Before I could get rid of this voluble lady, Mary Stuart had passed on into the ball-room. For nearly an hour we were kept at our posts, when on beino- relieved I went in search of her that I con- sidered the belle of the ball. While inquiring of one of the officers who the Queen of Scots was, who came in with a middle-aged man of the corps, THE INCOGNITA. 203 the lady herself rose from her seat, came forward, and said, in a voice the tones of which my imagina- tion led me to believe I had heard before, " My husband and myself owe you an apology for not having noticed you as w^e entered, but you were in earnest conversation with my rival, Elizabeth, and we were urged to pass on." Of course I made a flattering speech in return, saying Marie Stuart could fear no rival, for, in the words of one of Sheridan's songs, the Scottish queen — " A friend in all the aged would find, And lovers in tbe young." " Allow me shortly to present my husband to you, he is dancing in that quadrille," she continued, " but first J. have to thank you for a kindness which I never have forgot, and never shall forget." I was entirely taken aback, for I could not recog- nise my new-found acquaintance. " Allow me to conduct you to the refreshment room," I said. *' Willingly," she responded. " My husband is an inveterate dancer, and I do not expect to see much of him this evening." Of course at that moment the stately Queen Elizabeth approached with her two daughters, who ware evidently on the look-out for partners. As one of the givers of the ball, I had the privilege of introducing persons even unknown to me. I seized upon two hobbledehoys, decked out as Highland chiefs, and urged them to engage Minna and Breuda for the Lancers. This they did, and amidst the 204 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. thanks of their delighted mamma, I rushed back to the spot where I had left the unknown. " We have ordered supper at one o'clock," I exclaimed, as, after partaking of an ice, I led her from the crowded refreshment to the card room. As usual, the door was blocked up, and I was on the tenter hooks to know who the beauty on my arm was, and to what service she referred. While strugghng through hundreds anxious to attain the spot we were vacating, I casually remarked that we had been in hopes to have secured Gunter for the supper, but that Leamington had put forward a claim, and we had yielded to the local pressure. " Gunter ? Why not Grange ?" asked the fair Marie. " Grange !" I exclaimed, starting back, and in so doing nearly upsetting a very venerable-looking Madame de la Valli^re — " Grange !" " Yes, Grange." " You surely cannot be — " I hesitated. " The incognita you escorted there," she con- tinued, " and wlio, unhke your sex, did not show a particle of curiosity." By this time we were seated, and as the conversa- tion was confidential, I do not feel justified in re- peating it. Sufiice it to say, the engagement with George Wombwell was broken off ; he consoled himself with a charming wife, and the lady her- self, as *' hearts were led, followed suit," became the wife of a gallant and most popular officer, to whom I required no introduction, for upon seeing him I recognised an old acquaintance. As my sub- TOMMY GARTH. 205 jecfc is George Wombwell, not the young lady, I will merely say that some years afterwards, she having become a widow, had again, like the ill-fated Marie Stuart, found another husband. In her new name, she wrote to me from Hove to say how happy she would be again to shake me by the hand. I called, found that time had not produced much change in her still lovely face. I took my leave, little did 1 think for the last time. The next I heard of her was in the death column of the " Times." As Byron writes : — " I am at my old tunes — digression." George Wombwell, although fond of hunting, boating, and shooting, abominated yachting; indeed he often said that such was his abhorrence of the sea, and his horror of the mal de mer, that, when on his way to France, he became sick at Canterbury at the thought of crossing from Dover to Calais. During the Crimean war, George Wombwell was most anxious about his son, the present baronet, then an officer of the 17th Lancers. One day, when walking with him in Hyde Park, we met Tommy Garth, who, in his offhand manner, said, " There's been an awful scrimmage with the light cavalry at Balaclava, and by all accounts they have been cut to pieces." Tommy was a good-hearted fellow, but his love of gossip was great, and often got him into scrapes. So great was his anxiety to pick up news and report it, that for a moment he forgot how deeply interested Wombwell must be. 206 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. " Tell me what has happened," said my com- panion, tremulous with emotion, and turning per- fectly pale, " I was told at the Conservative," continued Garth, " that there has been a cavalry affair." Happily at this moment the Adjutant-General rode past, when Womb well rushed forward, and after a brief conversation returned to me and said, " Thank God, my boy has distinguished himself; though taken prisoner he has escaped." Tears fell from his eyes as he recounted to me the charo-e of the five hundred. Garth bes^an to stammer out his regret at having caused him a fright, and then started off to tell the news to all with whom he was acquainted. " Tommy" was a terrible gossip, occasionally doing a great deal of mischief by propagating the canards of the clubs. He was apt, too, to curry favour by flattering one at the expense of another. An instance occurs to me. Garth, who had served in the Hussars, always kept up an acquaintance with the officers of the Household Brigade, quartered at Knightsbridge and Regent's Park Barracks, the former being handy to his house in Hans Place. One day, when hunting for a dinner, and drawing Knightsbridge Barracks blank, he proceeded to the Regent's Park, where the Blues were stationed, where he was more suc- cessful. " I dined," said he, " 3'esterday with the Life- Guards. A horrid bad dinner, and the company not better than the food." DINING WITH THE ELUES. 207 This was reported to a very popular member of the Blues, who concocted a plan to pay Tommy oflf. This was carried out by procuring some jalap from a neighbouring chemist's, which was to be inserted in Garth's soup and fish sauce. A young cornet nndertook the executive, and cleverly managed to doctor the soup and fish without being discovered. The trumpet sounded, the party sat down to din- ner, when Tommy was loud in the praise of the cook. " This is something like soup !" he exclaimed. *' Why, what's the matter, Tommy ?" asked one of the conspirators. " You look ill." " I'll be back in a minute," he replied, getting up and leaving the room. Shortly afterwards he returned. " We kept some fish for you," said the cornet. " Our chef de cuisine prides himself on his Dutch sauce." Garth partook of it. " First rate— eh? what? I don't feel well." Another hasty retreat, but no reappearance. A sudden light flashed across him that he liad been punished for his libel on the Life-Guards' mess ; so, ordering a hack cab, he retired to his club, where a glass of hot brandy and water soon counteracted the effects of his dinner. George Wombwell died in 1855, and was suc- ceeded by his son, the present baronet, who retired from the array in that year, having been during his short military career promoted to his lieutenancy for his gallantry at the battle of Balaclava. 208 :men about town. LORD ADOLPHUS FITZCLA-RENCE. CHAPTER XI. DAMON AND PYTHIAS— DOLLY FITZCLAEENCE AND GEORGE WOMBWELL — dolly's EARLY DAYS— HIS VISIT TO BEDLAM- LUDICROUS INVESTIGATION ON BOARD THE ROYAL YACHT — UNE PUCE MERVEILLEUSE. " Madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends." I F there ever was a man " Blessed with a temper whose unclouded ray Can make to-morrow as cheerful as to-day," it was the subject of the following brief memoir; brief it must be, as there was little in the public or private character of Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence that demands special notice. Dolly Fitzclarence (as he was familiarly called) furnishes a worthy pendant to the late Sir George Wombwell, for they were the Damon and Pythias of the day. Fitzclarence was born in [802, and died in 1856. At an early age he entered the Royal Navy as a midshipman, saw much peace service, became captain of the royal yacht, the command of which LOED ADOLPHUS FITZCLARENCE. 209 he was compelled to resign upon becoming a rear- admiral, was ranger of Windsor Home Park, and a naval aide-de-camp to the Qaeen. No one was more hospitable than Dolly Fitzclarence, every Englishman and foreigner of note was welcome at his table in his snug house in the Ambassador's Court, St. James's Palace ; nor were his dinners confined to men of note, for every ofl5.cer that had served with, or under, him in the navy was an equally welcome guest. His social qualities were great, his memory was very retentive, and he had a fund of anecdote. During the early part of the illness of his father, William IV., he used to tell very characteristic stories of the " Sailor King." *' How is His Majesty ?" I inquired one day. " Much better, thank you," he replied, " his valet told me when I called that the King was infinitely better, and I am certain he was, for he swore more than usual." He would also give a very graphic account of how, when he went over to France in the royal yacht to receive Louis Philippe, he heard an old " salt" describe an adventure he had had with one of His Majesty's suite : — " The fellow," said the man, •' decked out in red trousers, uniform covered with gold lace, and a cocked hat ' fore and aft' on his head, came on board, and never touched his hat ; the blacking from his boots (they calls it French polish, but I didn't see much polish either about the man or his boots) completely stained our deck, and he insisted on seeing the Capitaine de vesso (vaisseau). 1 told him VOL. I. p 210 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. I didn't understand his foreio-n lino^o, and that he had better send some one who talked Enghsh. Upon that he began to make such awful gesticula- tions, said something that sounded like impertinent, when I felt very much disposed to throw him, red trousers and all, overboard, and give him a good ducking." While on the subject of the Royal yacht, I may repeat a story Adolphus Fitzclarence was wont to tell of how he nearly got into trouble when in com- mand of it, and how he escaped from it through the cleverness of a canny Scot. Upon one occasion when the Queen, the late Prince Consort, and the Prince of Wales, then a baby, were on board, it was communicated to him that, to the horror of the attendants on the heir to the throne, a flea had been discovered in His Royal Highness's cot. " A flea," exclaimed the noble commander, *' it's quite impossible, every attention has been paid to the tidiness of the vessel." Despite of this the fact was oflScially conveyed to him, with a request that he would account for such an enormity. In this dilemma he sought the ad- vice of the surgeon, who immediately said, " Lay it on the coo," *' What do you mean ?" asked Adolphus. " The fact is, the Prince looked at and patted the coo yesterday, and possibly the obnoxious insect may have got into his frock." This hint was enough, and " Dolly" officially reported the fact of the Prince having been in close proximity with the cow the day previous, VISIT TO BEDLAM. 211 which would probably account for the intrusion of this most unwelcome visitor. The explanation proved satisfactory, and the blame was transferred from the captain to the nurse, who had imprudently allowed her charge to come into too close contact with the animal. One day, in company with George Wombwell, Adolphus went to visit Bedlam. Among the in- mates was a woman, who looked steadfastly at him, and exclaimed, " I know your face ! What is your name?" " My name," he responded. " Mr. Smith." The poor crazy female shook her head and walked away. A few months afterwards, the same party again visited this sad but admirably managed institution, when who should first call the attention of Fitzclarence but the woman to whom on a former occasion he had given a wrong name. She approached, and said in a calm and feeling manner, " You deceived me, my Lord, when last I saw you. You cut my heart to the quick, for you treated me as if I was an outcast." Adolphus looked ashamed of himself, and the colour rose to his cheek. "I'm very, very sorry," said this kind-hearted sailor; ** how can I redeem my error ?" " You can do me a favour," she replied. " Will you?" " I promise faithfully I will." " Then," said the woman, " I am mad — I know T am mad — but I have lucid intervals. I knew you all along to be the King's son, from your likeness p 2 212 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. on a shilling. Tell William the Fourth that, mad as I am, I never was half as mad as he was when he signed the Reform Bill." " Dolly" shook the woman warmly by the hand, and repeated his promise, which he faithfully per- formed. What His Majesty said I am unable to state, but from what I could gather he was " taken aback" at the insane woman's remark. Adolphus Fitzclarence was devoted to his mother — the ill-fated Mrs. Jordan. A splendid portrait of her in the character of the " Romp" hung over the chimney-piece in his dining-room, and often did he gaze at it, and talk in raptures of his happy child- hood under the roof of the kindest of parents. Peace to his manes. " He's gane ! he's gai)e ! he's frae us torn, The ae best fellow e'er was born, Adolphus. Natnre sel' shall mourn, By wood and wild. Where, haply, pity strays forlorn, Frae man exil'd. Go to your sculptured tombs, ye great, In a' the tinsel trash of state ; But by thy honest turf I'll wait. Thou man of worth, And weep the ae best fellow fate E'er laid in earth." 213 GASTEONOMY. UDE. CHAPTER XII. GASTRONOMY — COSTLY BANQUETS IN ANCIENT ROME — ALEXIS SOYER — ANECDOTE OP WELLINGTON'S CHEF DE CUISINE — DIN- NER AT THE REFORM CLUB — COOKERY BOOKS — FRENCH AND ENGLISH ARTISTS. UDE was, beyond all competition, the most learned of cooks, as his work on " La Science de Gueule" will prove. In giving his advice to his brother artists he says, " Cookery is an art which requires much time, intellect, and activity to be acquired in its perfection. Every man is not born with the qualifications necessary to constitute a good cook." {Coquus nascitur, non jit.) " The diffi- culty of attaining to perfection in the art will be best demonstrated by offering a few observations on some others. Music, dancing, fencing, painting, and mechanics in general possess professors under twenty years of age, whereas, in the first line of cooking, pre-eminence never occurs under thirty. If all cooks were provided with the necessary qualities, they would certainly be considered as 214 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. artists. What science demands more study than cookery ?" This is the proper feeling with which every man who is ambitious of distinction in it should regard his profession, and the labours of M. Ude have met with their reward. He has been the inemier artiste of his Cathohc Majesty Louis XVI., after which honourable service he was in the employ of Lord Sefton. He was honoured, too, by an appointment in the household of his late Royal Highness the Duke of York, and afterwards was chef de cuisine at Crockford's, whose coffee-room dinners and suppers he elevated to the most enviable renown. M. Ude tells us in his book that " sauces are the soul of cookery, and that cookery is the soul of festivit}'^, at all times and to all ages." No wonder he dilates upon the grateful theme, and exclaims, *' Why should we not be proud of our knowledge in cookery ? How many marriages have been the con- sequence of meeting at dinner ! how much good fortune has been the result of a good supper ! At what moment of our existence are we happier than at table ? There hatred and animosity are lulled to sleep, and pleasure alone reigns. Here the cook, by his skill and attention, anticipates their wishes in the happiest selection of the best dishes and decorations; here their wants are satisfied, their minds and bodies invigorated, and themselves qualified for the high delights of love, music, poetry, dancing, and other pleasures; and is he whose talents have produced these happy effects to rank no higher in the scale of man than a common EUSTACE LOUIS UDE. 215 servant? Yes, if you adopt and attend to the rules that I have laid down, the self-love of mankind will consent at last that cookery shall rank in the class of the sciences, and its professors deserve the name of artists." French cooks are famous, it is said, for making a dinner out of nothing, and English ones for making nothing of a dinner. Adopting the above sentiment, a poet, unknown to me by name, addressed a poem to Eustace Louis Ude, from which I extract the following stanzas . — " Accept, Ude, this tributary lay, E'en though it call thee from thy stoves away, From pots whose savour every taste admires ; Compotes of which the palate never tires ; Oh, be this verse extended as thy fame, And as renowned for wit as is thy name ! Be mine a lay, culinary muse, Rich as Ude's soups, resistless as his stews. Strong as his gravies, piquant as his pies, Plain as his roasts, and perfect as his fries !" The author then proceeds to give directions for carving : — " Carving, stupendous art ! 'tis mine to sing Of all the aids which to the board you bring ; No faithless fork, where you preside can dash The candid waistcoat with a greasy splash." This affords the writer an opportunity of perpetrat- ing a pun, " Summ.us jus, summa injuria,'" which Mr. Ude translates, " The richer the gravy, the more mischief it does." He then proceeds in wretched doggerel rhymes, which to my idea are perfectly unintelligible : — " No sevenfold handkerchief need interpose To save from wings that fly once more the nose." 216 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Adding this note : — " Si celeres quatit Penuas resigno quae dedit." HORACE. Of which the great culinary artist has favoured the world with the following free translation : — " In carving, if the wings should fly, Eight into the celery. Resigned I never will receive Meat the hostess thus may give." The following anecdote is told of Ude : — When the Dul^e of York was dying, the Bishop of London attended His Royal Highness in his ministerial capacity. On hearing this Ude said, — " Ah, I teach long time de Prince to live well; 1 leave it to Monseigneur I'Eveque to teach him to die." Stories are told of his sensibilities, whether founded on fact 1 know not, but they savour of truth. It was said when he was cook to the Earl of Sefton, that he quitted his lordship because one of his guests put pepper into his soup. " Milor," said the enraged artist, " c'est un af- front to suppose my soup can vant peppere." Again it was reported that on seeing pepper and salt on a certain nobleman's table: — " Ah, milor has a very bad cook — de cook ne vaut rien when de dishes require peppere and salt." As to his own talents he certainly, to adopt a some- what vulgar but trite phrase, " didn't think small beer of himself," for when the Junior United Ser- vice Club was forming, Ude, who was engaged at a rival club, shrugged his shoulders and said, — IMITATIONS OP ANCIEKT BANQUETS, 217 " Dis club cannot last ; there is but one Tide in de world. Pardi !" We read constantly of the costly dinners in An- cient Rome, of the banquets given by Lucullus, the Emperors Vitelhus, Verus and Caligula, Helioga- balus, and other epicures; of the suras of money Squandered on these coena's and in modern times of the attempts made to prepare dinners according to the ancient recipes. The Abbe Margon tells us he received a present of 30,000 francs from Philip, Duke of Orleans, for the reproduction of a banquet which Trimalchi is said to have given in the days of Nero, of which Petronius gives the following account. " The Duke and his guests, all of whom were dressed in the Roman costume, pronounced it a perfect suc- cess." In November, 1806, when the ill-fated Jose- phine received the intelligence of her imperial con- sort's, Napoleon I., triumphant entry into Berlin, she commanded a repast to be prepared according to the directions of Apicius ; it appears, however, that the banquet, as far as the guests were concerned, was a failure, and drew upon herself the displeasure of " Thomme du siecle." In our days, attempts have been made at fancy balls to give suppers after the the fashion of those of Charles I., Henry VIII., and Louis Quatorze, but they have not produced the desired effect. Expensive and luxurious as were the ancient Roman feasts, we question much whether they came up to a modern dinner, well cooked by a French artist. It is true we cannot boast of peacocks' and nightingales' tongues, of breasts of pork, the pigs fed on millet and figs, of 218 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. peas mingled witli gold leaves, beans with amber, rice vs^ith pearls, boars roasted and served up whole, instead of oysters from Circeii or the Lucrine Lake, we must be content with bivalves from Colchester; we need not send to Pessinus in Asia for cod-fish, as the banks of Newfoundland supply our wants ; or to Ravenna for plaice. The Severn supplies us with lampreys equal to those from the Straits of Sicily, or from Tartessus, on the coast of Spain. Peacocks, originally brought from Samos, now strut about our gardens, and appear not in the menu, though we have a large supply of the Colchian pheasant in our woods and on our tables. Our rivers and decoy ponds provide every sort of water- fowl, equal to that from the Tigris, Media, or Phrygia. Deer and Southdown sheep rank quite as high in our day as the boar from Lucania, TJmbria, and Etruria, and the kids of Ambracia. Then their wines and other drinks, including the mulsum, compounded of wine, honey, and must, could not be compared with the Chateau Margaux, the fruity port, the old Madeira, the golden sherry, the sparkling hock, — " The champagne with foaming whirls, As white as Cleopatra's melted pearls." Or the Badminton and Moselle cups. In England cookery is and has ever been highly patronised by the nobility. In bygone times we read of the Earl of Peterborough, famed in love and war, who was a gourmet of the first quality. This nobleman, whilst in Spain, once pointed some artillery against a convent, in which a beautiful WHAT A DINNER SHOULD BE. 219 lady of rank bad taken refuge, so that, by terrify- ing her to come forth, he might obtain a view of her person. The Earl appears to have been as much addicted to the luxuries of the table as he was to the dangers of the battle-field. He con- stantly assisted at the preparation of any Apician feast over which he was about to preside ; and when at Bath, he was occasionally seen about the streets in his blue ribbon and star, carrying a chicken in his hand, and some choice vegetables under each arm. Well might he have aspired to the title of a cordoii bleu, while the motto on his garter might have been changed from " Honi soit qui mal y pense" to " In solo vivendi causa palato est." " Un diner sans famous est une des jouissances les plus reelles de la vie. Un diner a Etiquette en est un des plus amers incidents. Je prefere un concert de M. Fessy, une course dans I'omnibus de la Villette a la Croix-Rouge, une distribution de prix, une representation extraordinaire, un billet de garde et mille autres tuiles assommantes que vous pouvez enumerer mentalement, aux deux et trop souvent, quatre mortelles heures que consume un grand diner." So writes Henri de Kock, the talented son of Charles Paul de Kock, and I quite endorse his opinion. Nothing can exceed the dehght of a party varying from six to eight, nothing can be more detestable than a dinner of thirty-five or forty. Eight, to my mind, is the proper number ; an octagon table, a well-assorted com- pany, a good plain English dinner well cooked, or 220 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. a recherche French dinner, with good wine, forms an entertainment that cannot be exceeded. Doctor Johnson's sentiments on the proprieties of the table, prove that the surly lexicographer was a gourmet of the highest quality. " I cannot conceive," he says, " the folly of those who, when at table, think of everything but eat- ing; for my part, when I am there, I think of nothing else ; and whosoever does not trouble himself with this important affair at dinner or supper, will do no good at any other time." I remember once dining at the Rocher de Cancale at Paris, with a party of Englishmen, excellent fellows, but real gourmands. The dinner was faultless; upon addressing my host, he revelling in a potage bisque d'ecrevisse, exclaimed, " I came here to eat, not to talk," and assuredly he carried on the silent system until the repast was over. While on the subject of the culinary art, I can- not pass over Alexis Soyer, an artist of no incon- siderable talent, taste, and pubhc spirit. In 1837 he was appointed chef de cuisine to the Reform Club, then recently erected by Barry in Pall Mall, and his first achievement was the preparation of a public breakfast, given by the members of the Club to two thousand guests at the Coronation of Queen Victoria. M. Soyer next appeared as author, and in this character at once attained celebrity and success. His work, beautifully illustrated, entitled " The Gastronomic Regenerator," commanded a most extensive and profitable sale. It was most iavourably reviewed in the pages of " Blackwood," ALEXIS SOYER. 221 in the columns of the " Times " and other news- papers. I quote the following from the leading journal : — " For ten months he laboured at the pyramid which the remotest posterity shall applaud ; and during the whole of that period he was intent upon providing the countless means which a living generation have already approved and fully digested. Talk of the labours of a Prime Minister or Lord Chancellor ! Sir Robert Peel was not an idle man, Lord Brougham is a tolerable busy one. Could either, we ask, in the short space of ten months — ten ' little months' — have written ' The Gastro- nomic Eegenerator' and furnished 25,000 dinners, 38 banquets of importance, comprising above 70,000 dishes ; besides providing daily for 60 ser- vants, and receiving the visits of 15,000 strangers, all too eager to inspect the renowned altar of a great Apician temple ? All this did M. Soyer, and we back him for industry against even the inde- fatigable Brougham." Although not professedly a wit, Soyer possessed a tolerable fund of humour, as the following anecdote will show. The late Lord Melbourne, who had always an eye for beauty, on paying a visit to the Reform Club, among other questions, asked the chef " How is it that you have such a number of good-looking female assistants ?" '^ My Lord," replied Soyer, " we do not want plain cooks here." Although the members of the Reform Club were great sticklers for economy in every public depart- ment of the State, they were most liberal with regard to their own enjoyments, and often did Soyer Zl'l CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. receive carte hlanclw to provide dinner for a snug party of eigbt or ten, who thought nothing of being charged four guineas a-head for it ; every dehcacy, in and out of season, being provided. Perhaps Soyer's greatest cuhnary triumph was the dinner given by the Lord Mayor of York and all the provincial Mayors of England to the late Prince Consort, the Lord Mayor of London, and other distinguished guests. It took place in the banqueting hall at York, on the 25th of October, 1850. The bill of fare was most elaborate, and among other 'plats was the following, named the one hundred guinea dish, £ s. d. 5 Turtle's heads, part of fins, and green fat, costing . . 34 24 Capons, the small noix from each side of the middle of the back only used, being the most delicate parts of every bird . . 8 8 Soyer must have copied the above idea from Lord Alvanley, for at a dinner given at White's, it was agreed that whoever could produce the most expensive dish should dine for nothing. Alvanley introduced the noix of fowls dressed as a fricassee, and came off scot free. 18 Turkeys, the same . 18 Poulardes, ditto 3 6 Fowls, ditto 10 Grouse, ditto Carried forward 61 10 £ s. 8 12 d. 5 17 2 8 2 5 ALEXIS SOYER. 223 Brought forward 20 Pheasants, ditto 45 Partridges, ditto 6 Plover, whole 40 Woodcocks, ditto 3 dozen Quails, ditto 100 Snipes, oioix only 3 dozen Pigeons, 7ioix only 6 dozen Larks, stufifed Ortolans from Belo^ium . The garniture, consisting of coc truffles, mushrooms, crayfish, olives, American asparagus, coustades, sweet- breads, quenelles de volaille, green mangoes, and a new sauce named after the inventor Alexis Soyer £ 61 s. 10 d. 3 3 7 9 8 3 5 14 15 5 kscombs, 14 ]0 Total 105 5 A painted window in the banqueting hall at York records the dinner above referred to. I was once requested by a friend of mine to ask Soyer whether he would go to his house, profession- ally, with a view to giving the cook a few finishing lessons. He went, and to his great dismay found that the female artist was not very far advanced in the art of cooking — to use his expres- sion, she had hardly got over her ABC. He sought the master of the house, told him it would be robbing him if he gave the cook any lessons, and politely refused any remuneration for his visit. " The change of air, and the pleasure I have 224 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. received in visiting your garden and model farm have amply repaid me." Delighted at Soyer's gentlemanlike manner, and gratified at his liberality, he urged Soyer to stay and dine with him. To this he acceded, and taking an opportunity of visiting the kitchen, gave some valuable hints and practical assistance. So much so that the lady of the house was quite surprised at finding her soup and entrees very superior to what they had been before the arrival of Alexis Soyer. Before leaving, the chef remarked to my friend that he had seen some splendid pigs in the farmyard. " Beautiful, but not very profitable," replied the host. " Let me offer a suggestion," said Soyer, " with your permission I will send you a machine with a receipt to make the best sausages, and you will, instead of receiving ' tenpence a pound for the raw article, realize a shilling for the manufactured one.' " This was done, and my Iriend's sausages were eagerly sought after at the market of the adjoining town. The energetic charity and public spirit of Alexis Soyer raised him to a higher honour than that which he had earned merely as a professor of the culinary art. During the Irish famine in 1847, he suggested the opening of a subscription, which he headed with a donation of thirty pounds, for the pur- pose of establishing a model soup-kitchen in London and Dublin. Soyer's efforts to relieve the suffer- ings of the Irish were highly successful, as the result of his operations at his soup-kitchen in Dublin will show. Between the 6th of April and WRITERS ON THE ART OP COOKERY. 225 the 14tli of August, he distributed 1,147,278 rations of soup and bread, making 2,868,197 pounds weight of food. To supply that nunaber of rations by the ordinary plan of preparing food, would have cost £15,536, whereas by Soyer's method, as adopted in his model kitchen, the total cost was just one half that amount ; thus the sum of £7,7Q8 was saved to the public funds. AVhile in the Emerald Isle, he published a sixpenny book, en- titled " The Poor Man's Regenerator," a most valuable and practical work. In 1848 he addressed himself to the alleviation of the distress of the Spitalfields weavers; in 1849 he published one of the best standard books upon cookery, " The Modern Housewife," and shortly afterwards brought out his " Magic Stove," which was of the greatest benefit, both in England and in the Crimea. This miniature kitchen ought to be in every bachelor's house, especially for those who, for breakfost or lunch, like a chop or steak hot from the grill. Jn 1855 he proceeded to the Crimea, where his ser- vices proved highly successful. He died on August 28, 1858, to tlie great grief of his friends, whose names were legion. The present century has produced many writers who have devoted their talents to the art of cook- ing, and numerous works have issued from the press both by amateurs and professionals. Among the most notable of non-professionals may be men- tioned Dr. Kitchener, whose " Cook's Oracle" was evidently the result of a thorough knowledge of the " Almanach des Gourmands." This oracle of culi- VOL. I. Q 226 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. nary lore piqued himself upon being a hoii vivant ; over his dining-room table was seen the following notice, " Come at seven, go at eleven," which was transformed by the arch hoaxer, Theodore Hook, into " Come at seven, go it at eleven." Thomas Walker's " Original" contains many valuable hints on plain but good living; be gives the following piece of advice, selfish to a degree, but quite ori- ginal : " If you have a woodcock for dinner, and only a friend to partake of it, plead a sprained wrist as an excuse for not carving ; if you carve it, you must give him the best bit ; if he carves it, he must give you the best bit." In " Table Traits," by Dr. Doran, who writes well upon all subjects, we find " une Erudition gastronomique tout a fait parfaite." To those who think there is nothing like good eating and drinking to bring out the humani- ties, Jerrold's "Epicure's Year Book" will be read with pleasure. Hay ward, who ranks high in the literary world, is a gourmet of taste and senti- ment; his "Art of Dining" is truly amusing and instructive ; he, moreover, possesses the art of giving a rehsh to even a bad dinner by his conversa- tional powers. Of professional writers we have first and foremost Ude, Francatelli, and Soyer. Of Tide and Soyer I have already spoken. Francatelli adopts Dr. Johnson's views, that " Cookery is one of the arts that aggrandise life," and he must be pronounced to be a master of that art, as those can vouch for who have had the honour of dining in former days at Windsor Castle, who knew him at Crockford's, and at the Freemason's Tavern. Some WRITERS ON THE CULINARY ART. 227 three years ago my old regiment, the Royal Horse Guards (Blues), bad their annual dinner at the Freemason's Tavern, and a better one could not have been placed on table. Among older and, in many instances, good authorities, we have Mrs. Glasse's "Art of Cookery made Plain and Easy;" Mrs. Cleland's " New and Easy Method of Cookery," to which might have been added, " or Piracy made easy to the meanest capacity," for this new work was entirely taken from one by Sir John Hill. Next came Mrs. Rundle's " New System," followed by Miss Acton, who published " Modern Cookery in all its Branches," and which has become a standard volume. I have selected the names of the best writers on culinary matters that I have met with, — " Le resle ne vaut pas I'honneur d'etre nomme." While on the subject of culinary artists, I am reminded of an anecdote told of the late Duke of Wellington's cook, than whom a better artist did not exist. It is not, however, with his artistic powers I have to do, it is to the knowledge of his chief I am about to refer. During the battle of Waterloo, as hour after hour thousands on thousands of fugitives poured along the village towards Brussels, or at least towards the forest of Soignies, crying " that all was lost," "the Enghsh beaten," "the French vic- torious and coming," the incredulous cook con- tinued, unmoved, his preparations for his master's dinner. Q 2 228 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. "Fly," cried one after another, " the French are coming, and you will be killed." But the imperturbable artist, strong in his faith of invariable victory, only replied, " No ; I have served my master while he has fought a hundred battles, and he never yet failed to come to his dinner." So he cooked on, spite of flying thousands ; and the cook was right — the Duke came, though rather late upon that occasion. A oreat deal has been said with res^ard to the expense of French or German man-cooks, and I think the general opinion is that they are more expensive than English ones. This I doubt very much ; and they possess one great advantage, they take a pride in their art and science. Moreover, their imagina- tion (especially that of a French artist) is more brilliant than is usual with our countrymen ; they can at the shortest notice, if a visitor drops in, improvise a nice plat. The best cordons bleus I have known have come from abroad, and with a little encouragement, praise when they want it, and cen- sure when deserved, they will furnish repasts worthy of Heliogabalus or any other gourmet. I knew a French cook who left an excellent situation under a most popular nobleman, because his culinary labours, if appreciated, were never noticed ; and I remember another telling me, " I should be a great robber if I remained with my present employer, for a woman cook of thirty pounds a year would cook his * bif- steak,' and furnish all he requires. My supreme de volatile came down yesterday untouched, and I re- GOOD PLAIN COOKS. 229 ceived a message tliis morniag never to send up the artichokes except plain boiled, though I pride myself on vies artichaux, sauce Baragoide /" I have seen excellent women cooks, but unfortunately few can "stand fire" as well as men; hence some take to drinking. If they can resist this, as happily many do, then I should advocate woman's culinary rights, and vote for universal female suf- frage in the kitchen. The above remarks are applicable to first-rate artists ; of those who call themselves " good plain cooks," I can only say that in nineteen cases out of twenty the description is incorrect. The generality do not know how to roast, stew, or boil. They will send up greasy soup, occasionally smoked, the fish will be underdone, the joint roasted to a tinder, potatoes hot without and hard within, the pastry- indigestible; and yet these professors, who know as much of the art of cooking as the boy who mixes Millais' colours does of painting, ask from thirty to forty guineas wages, in addition to their board and washing. I am aware that, better late than never, some schools have been established for teaching the culinary art, and I trust they . will meet with the support of the public. The indigenous food of a " Britisher" is roast beef; so long as that can be nicely served no one need complain. How often, however, is it spoiled by careless or ignorant cooks. A wonderful change has taken place, not only as regards our meals, but the hours of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Moore, in eulogising a French dejeuner 230 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. o la fourchette, thus draws what Mrs. Malaprop would call an " odiferous comparison" between that and our homely meal : — " There, Dick, what a breakfast ! Oh, not like your ghost Of a breakfast in England ; your vile tea and toast." Unquestionably in my early days breakfasts were far different from what they now are. It is true, there was the Irish damask cloth white as driven snow, the tea-urn bubbling, the home-made loaf, the richest cream, the freshest butter, new-laid eggs, and the cold round of beef on the sideboard ; now to the above may be added the cafe-au-lait, the piquant cutlet, the stimulating grilled fowl or pheasant, the well-flavoured rognons au vin de cham- pagne , the savoury omelette aux fines herbes, the rich slices of kippered salmon, with a sideboard groaning under the weight of pates de fvie-gras, game pies, cold pressed beef, haras, and sardines, with light claret for those who prefer wine to the fragrant tea, " which cheers yet not inebriates." In former days, luncheons consisted of sand- wiches, bread and cheese, cakes, cowslip, orange or other British wine, and home-brewed ale. Now, luncheon is an early dinner. These heavy luncheons at half-past one or two, with tea, coffee, cakes, bread and butter at five o'clock, are all very well for those who indulge in tliem ; but for those who during a hard day's exercise have partaken of nothing since breakfast but a slight repast, and are looking forward to enjoying their dinner in com- pany with others, the case is different. They will DUINKING HABITS. :31 find the ladies sipping a few spoonfuls of soup, declining fisli, playing with aj^dte aux, huitres, eating part of the breast of a chicken, or the wing of a lark or snipe, while the lords of the creation see the plates removed, and they are left in all their glory, either to eat by themselves or to yield to their fate, by sending away the half-finished slice of venison, beef, or mutton. If they adopt the first- mentioned plan they are set down as gormandisers. Early in the present century people dined at six o'clock, and were content with a plain English dinner, strong October ale, sherry, bucellas, and port. The fashion prevailed of drinking v/ine with one another during dinner, and of filling bumpers after it to some fair one, occasionally mingled with a maudhn sentiment — " May the wing of sensibility never moult a feather;" and after a late sitting, the three and four-bottle men would roll into the drawing-room, BaccJii pleni. At the present time the wine is drunk during dinner, and an intoxicated man is seldom or never seen. At the commencement of the present century, malt liquors were introduced at every table, and flourished until the reign of " King Brummell," when it was considered vulgar to indulge in them. The late Lord Normanby thus alludes to the cus- tom in one of his works of fiction : — " Is not that a fashionable novelist opposite ? " says an exquisite. " Well, I'll astonish the fellow. Here, bring me a glass of table beer." At that period champagne was scarce, and was considered so great a luxury that it was only introduced on grand occasions ; a 232 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWX. glass of sherry or Madeira was all that tlie ladies ever indulged in. That drinking was among some men carried to a frightful extent, may be gleaned from the following extract from Sir John Sinclair's " Code of Health :" " Mr. Vantom drank 3G,6S8 bottles, or fifty-nine pipes of wine, in the space of twenty-three years ;" and I fear he was not the only wine-bibber of his day." Light wines are now the fashion, unfortunately not always of the best quality. Since the Glad- stone act of legislation, light secondary growth Bordeaux, the vin du j^ays of the country in which it is grown, has taken the place of the genuine Chateau Margaux and Haut Brion claret; Medoc of an inferior quality is substitued for Clos Vougeot; Erbach and Habbeuheim German wines are intro- duced instead of the nectar of the Rhine — Johan- nisberg and Steinberg ; Champagne, sweetened with white sugar from the Isle of Bourbon, is swallowed by thousands, instead of that grown on the estates of M. Moet and Madame Cliquot at Epernay ; spu- rious port is passed off as the best " beeswing" now to be procured from the Alto Douro district in Portugal; adulterated sherry does duty for that produced from the pure Xeres grape; and Madeira, instead of being allowed to ripen under sundry voyages to the East or West Indies, has probably come direct from the island, originally of an inferior o-rowth, and rendered worse by a mixture of ingre- dients well known to many of the trade. Here, while upon the subject, I must give an PRIVATE SUPPERS. 233 account of a sale that took place in Paris in 1858, of the effects of the late Duchesse de E-aguse, including a pipe of Madeira. This famous wine, known to all as the 1814 pipe, was fished up in that year near Antwerp, where it had lain in the carcase of a ship wrecked at the mouth of the Scheldt in 1778, and which had lain there ever since. As soon as the valuable discovery was made known, Louis XVIII. despatched an agent to secure the precious relic. A share of the glorious beverage was presented to the French Consul, who had assisted at its discovery, and thus it came into the cellar of the Due de Raguse. Only four and forty bottles were remaining, and those were literally sold for their weight in gold to Rothschild, who was opposed by Veron and Millard. Veron was angry, because he declared that he had made the reputation of the wine by mentioning it in his Memoirs, on the occasion of the dinner to Taglioni by the Duchesse de Raguse, whereat the famous " 1814" was produced, as the highest honour that could be paid to the great artiste. La Deesse de la danse. Let me turn to another meal which is, in conse- quence of the late dinner hours, now nearly out of fashion. I refer to suppers. It is true that, after the play, many patronise the Pall Mall Res- taurant, which is admirably conducted; but private suppers, such as our fathers revelled in, are things of the past. How dehghtful is the following rural epistle, written by S. Rogers to a friend in 17'j8 :— 234 CELEBKITIES I HAVE KNOWN. " Nor boast, Cboisy, seat of soft delight. The secret charm of tliy voluptuous night ! Vain is the blaze of wealth, the pomp of power ! Lo, here, attendant on the shadowy hour ; Thy closet supper, served by hands unseen, Sheds like an evening star, its ray serene, To hail our coming. Not a step profane Dares with rude sound the cheerful rite restrain; And, while the frugal banquet glows revealed. Pure and unbrought* — the natives of my field ; While blushing fruits thro' scattered leaves invite, Still clad in bloom, vested in azure light. With wine as rich in years as Horace sings. With water clear as his own fountain flings. The shifting sideboard plays its humble part, Beyond the triumphs of a Loriot's art." In La Vie privee de Louis XV. I fiud the foUowinf^ referoDce to Loriot : " At the petite soupers of Choisy were first introduced those admirable pieces of mechanism, afterwards carried to ])erfection by Loriot, the Confidente and the Servante; a table and a sideboard which descended and rose again covered with viands and wines. And thus the most luxurious Court in Europe, after all its boasted re- finements, was glad to return at last by this sin- g^ular contrivance to the quiet and privacy of humble life." Tw^o more anecdotes must suffice : — The Prince de Soubise, to whose name we are indebted for the choicest of sauces, having ordered his maitre-d'hotel to furnish hiui a menu for a supper, the chef presented his estimate, the first item of W'hich was fifty hams. " Eh, what is this ?" said the astonished Prince, * " Dapes inemptas." — uogace. JEAN DE CAGEME. 235 fifty hams ! Are you going to feast my whole regiment ?" "No, Monseigneur; only one will appear at table, the rest are necessary for my garnitures." " Bertrand, you are too extravagant ; I cannot pass this article." " Oh ! mon Prince," replied the indignant artist. " You do not understand our resources. Give nie the word, and T will put these fifty hams into a glass no bigger than my thumb." This was unanswerable. The Prince yielded, and the article passed. I cannot conclude my chapter on cooks and cook- ing without referring to an artist most eminent in his way. I refer to Careme. Car^me, who was a lineal descendant of that cele- brated chef of Leo X., received the name of Jean de Careme for a soiipe maigre, which he invented during Lent for the Pope. He afterwards became chef to the Prince Pegent at a salary of £1,000 per annum. This wonderful artist, who was sought after by half the Sovereigns of Europe, left the Prince at the expiration of a few mouths, complaining that it was a menage bourgeois. During his culinary reign at Carlton House, Careme obtained great prices for pates that had graced the Regent's board. The Emperors of Austria and Russia made new advances to him upon this occasion, but in vain. "Mon dme,'" he exclaimed, " toute Frangaise no pent vivre qii'en France.'* So he ended by accepting an engagement with Baron Rothschild at Paris. 236 W A R R 1 R S. WELLINGTON. CHAPTER XIV. ANECDOTES OF "WELLINGTON — EARL GREYS EULOGIFM ON THE IKON DUKE — WELLINGTON'S COOLNESS UNDER FIRE— A NAR- ROW ESCAPE. " E'en to the dullest peasant standing by, Who fasten'd still on him a wondering eye, He seem'd the master-spirit of the land." JOANNA BAILLIE. '' Accoutume d'aller de victoire en victoire, II cherche en tons lieux ley dangers et la gloire." D. Sanche D'Arragon. couxeille. " En ce heros tout est illustre et grand." Sertorius. corneille. " England exulting in his spotless fame Ranks with her dearest sons his favourite name." U. K. WHITE. THE life of Wellington is too closely interwoven with the history of this country to be made the subject of a brief memoir. Moreover, in a former work I have given ray personal reminis- cences of tliat illustrious man, who is said to have eclipsed the splendour of Hannibal and dimmed the glory of Ctesar : — WELLINGTON. 2^)7 "On, on, regardless of himself he went ; And, by no change elated or depressed, Fought till he won th' imperishable wreath, Leading the conqueror's captive; on he went, Bating nor heart nor hope, whoe'er opposed ; The greatest warriors, in their turn appearing, The last that came, the greatest of tliem all." So writes S. Rogers, and here I might dwell upon the deeds of Wellington, the active zeal he dis- played in the disastrous war in Flanders, his vigorous services when in command of Seringa- patam, his victorious deeds in the Deccan, where, in the words of the historian, he " subdued, with greater danger than loss of his army, natives most safe in position, most difficult of access, and cruel in ferocity," his distinguished exertions at Copen- hagen, the military triumphs which his valour achieved on the banks of the Douro, the Tagus, the Ebro, and the Garonne, but that they have been recorded by other pens than mine. Suffice it then to say that, great as Wellington was in the most onerous duties of the battle-field, he was equally good in all the generous offices of social inter- course. There is an anecdote of Wellington that I have never seen in print, and which I have every reason to believe is founded on fact. One day, during the Peninsular campaign, an officer sent in to say he wished to have an interview with his Grace. Wel- lington, being very much occupied at the moment, declined to see him. The importunate officer would take no denial, so he sat down in the ante-room, ready to pounce upon his chief as he passed through. 238 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. At length Wellington made his appearance, evi- dantly in a great hurry, and in earnest conversation with his military secretary, Fitzroy Somerset. Up jumped the man who had previously tormented the Duke with assumed grievances, and was beginning to relate another with great circumlocution, to which his Grace, absorbed with other more iuiport- ant business, paid no heed. " May I proceed, your Grace, to — " Where he was anxious to proceed to I know not, but he was cut short by the remark, " You may go to 11 — ." " Oh, 1 never mention it," except to say it is a place supposed to be paved with good intentions. The officer looked aghast, but on recovering his com- posure went off at once to the office of the Quarter- master-General, the late Sir George Murray. Upon sending up his name, and saying that he came direct from the Commander-in-Chief for a route, he was at once admitted. Sir George was an excellent officer, extremely quiet in his manner, placid in temper, and of rather a religious turn. Great was his surprise and horror when the officer said, " The Duke of Wellington has told me to go to H — . Would you kindly furnish me with a route?" Sir George's state of mind may be better under- stood than described. Let me now give a few striking instances of Wellington's coolness. Upon one occasion, when he was pursuing the French on a foggy morning, l.e found a division of our men much exposed in Wellington's coolness. 239 advance, nearly separated from the rest of the array, and the French in a village within a mile of where he was standing. He could see nothing; but on some prisoners being brought in, and asked what French division and how many men were within the village, they, to the dismay of everyone except Wellington, stated that the whole French army were there. " Oh, they are all there, are they?" said he. " Well, then, we must mind what we are about." Another time, soon after the battle of Fuentes d'Onore, and when we were waiting in position, expecting an attack, early one morning Lord Aylmer came suddenly in to tell the Duke, who was shaving, that the French were all off, and the last cavahy mounting to be gone. The conse- quence of which movement was to relieve AYellington entirely, to give him Almeida and preserve Por- tugal. On hearing this, he merely took the razor off for one minute, and said, " Ay, I thought they meant to be off, very well," and then another shave, just as before, without another word, until he was dressed. Daring the battle of Talavera, Albuquerque sent WelHngton, by a staff officer, a letter inform- ing him that Cuesta, the commander of the Spanish army in the action, was a traitor, and actually playing into the enemy's hands. He was intently watching the progress of the action as the despatch reached him ; he took the letter, read it, and turn- ing to the aide-de-camp coolly said, " Very well, Colonel, you may go back to your brigade." 240 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. On another occasion, just before the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo, when the proximity of the allies to Marmont's array placed them in considerable danger by reason of the non-arrival of their flank divisions, a Spanish general was astonished to find the English commander lying on the ground in front of his troops, serenely and imperturbably awaiting the issue of the peril. *' Well, General," said the Spaniard, " you are here with two weak divisions, and you seem to be quite at your ease, it is enough to put one in a fever." "I have done the best," the Duke replied, "that could be done according to ray own judgraent, and hence it is that I don't disturb myself, either about the enemy in front or about what they may say in England." One more anecdote of the Duke's coolness may not be here out of place, " How long before the French can come up r" asked Wellington, hearing of the pursuit that was thundering close to his rear, in the most critical hours of the short Spanish night. " Half-an-hour at least," was the answer. " Very well, then I will turn in and get some sleep," said the Iron Duke, rolling himself in a cloak, and lying down in the ditch to rest as soundly for the single half hour, as any tired drummer-boy. On his journey from Paris to Vienna in 1815 to attend the Congress, Wellington breakfasted, dined, and slept in his carriage, only stopping for an hour early in the morning to make his toilet. We were AVERSION TO POMP. 241 nine days and nights in accomplishing that which can now be done in a quarter of the time. Wellington's aversion to the pomp and circmn- stances in which the generals of otlier armies delight, was sometimes carried to a fault. His famous ride for example to the site of the bridge of boats on the Adour, carried him through a country which was by no means safe, yet he per- formed it without an escort, Lord Fitzroy Somer- set alone attending him. Indeed, escorts he en- tirely rejected, except when engaged in the act of reconnoitring close to the enemy's position. More than once he had a narrow escape of his life, or of being taken prisoner. When the enemy were falling back to Orthez, he shot a-head of his advanced guard and made for a hill, where he conceived he should command a full view of the line of march. Lord Fitzroy, Colonel Gordon, and several other officers were with him, but no escort. Gordon happened to be well mounted, and rode a little a-head of the rest, by which means he gained the brow of the hill, while Wellington was yet a yard or two from the summit. Right in his teeth came a party of French cavalry, when he had just time, and only just time to escape, by wheeling round and galloping back. Doitvn came the troopers upon Gordon, and away went Wellington and his staff, their swords drawn, but trusting more to the speed of their horses than to their right arms, and by the speed of their horses alone they escaped. On the other hand, this habit of passing VOL. I. E 242 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWX. from point to point, well nigh like a private person, gave him opportunities of seeing with bis own eyes the movement of the enemy, and enabled him to take advantnge of it. Humbug, of which there is so much all over the vrorld, in every line, was never the fashion at Wellington's head-quarters. From the Iron Duke downward there was mighty little. Everyone attended to the maxim of their chief, which was, " Let everyone do his duty well, and never let rae hear of any difficulties -whatever." Wellington himself was a striking instance of how duty should be carried on, as will be seen by the follow- ing anecdote. William Pitt, as Prime Minister, often came in contact with the Duke, and a few months before his death wrote of Wellington as follows, " I never met with any military officer with whom it was so satisfactory to converse. He states every difficulty before he undertakes any service, but never after he has undertaken it." " One day," so writes an eminent historian, " the Comnjissary-General told the Duke that the army had eaten nearly all the oxen in the country, that the cultivation of the lands in Portugal could not go on for want of them, and that he scarcely knew where to turn for a supply of beef, as there was that year no reserve store near Lisbon." Wellington replied, " Well then, we must set about eating all the sheep, and when they are gone I suppose we must go." General Murray, on hearing this, added, " His- torians will say that the British army came and OBEDIENCE TO ORDERS. 243 carried on war in Spain and Portugal until they had eaten all the beef and mutton in the country, and were then compelled to withdraw." The late Earl Grey, Wellington's constant op- ponent in politics, after reading the Duke's de- spatches said, " I have no hesitation in expressing my convic- tion that, in every circumstance of public life the Duke of WelHngfton is the g-reatest man that ever lived. How striking is that expression, when it was debated whether the army should make its retreat from Portugal, and the by-port of Cacino was suggested as the point of embarkation ; he still stood out for Lisbon, writing to the Government at home four military reasons, and concluding with this fifth, ' Besides after all the brillant conduct of the army, I should be sorry to see them go out by the back-door, when they have a right to go out by the front-door like gentlemen.' " One more anecdote of the Duke must suffice, and it is one which I believe is not generally known, and which proves how stringent he was with respect to obeying orders. The late Lord Derby, when having one of his country mansions decorated, was having the central hall-floor either painted or tesselated. A young man was at work on one of the walls, when the Earl ordered a number of slippers to be thrown on the door-mat, desiring this young man to order anyone that came in to put on a pair before crossing the passage, and adding to the order, " If anyone fails to attend to it, you must take him by the shoulder and turn R 2 24 i CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. him out." Soon after a party returned from hunt- ing, and the Duke, with his splashed boots, opened the door and rushed along the hall. The young man immediately jumped off the ladder on which he was painting, and seizing his Grace by the shoulder, fairly pushed him out of the house. In the course of the afternoon Lord Derby summoned all the household and men at work into the study, and seating himself beside the great warrior, de- manded who had had the impertinence to push the Duke out of doors. The painter, all of a tremble, came orward and said, " It was I, my Lord." "And pray," rejoined the Earl, " how came you to do it?" " By your orders, my Lord." On this his Grace turned round to Lord Derby, and smiling, drew a sovereign out of his purse, which ho gave to the workman, adding, " You were right to obey orders." 245 WARRIORS, CLYDE. CHAPTER XIV. SIR COLIN CAMPBELL — AFTERWARDS LORD CLYDE — HIS ACHIEVE- MENTS IN INDIA— CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE — THE SCOTCH BRIGADE IN THE CRIMEA. " His sword, (death's stamp), Where it did mark, it took. When by-and-bye the din of war 'gan pierce His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit Requicken'd what in flesh was fatigate. And to the battle came he ; when he did Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if 'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we call'd Both field and city ours, he never stood To ease his breast with panting." SHAKSPEARE. I HAVE had the pleasure of knowing two Colin Campbells, one the subject of this memoir, the hero of Chillian wallah and Inkerman, who afterwards graced the peerage as Lord Clyde, the other a brother aide-de-camp of mine, when serving on the staff of Wellington. Clyde was every inch a soldier, and one of the most unassuming men I ever met. The first time I saw him was at a small dinner party at Sir Willoughby Cotton's, previous to his 246 CELEBRITIES 1 HAVE KNOWN. grand career in the Crimea. Our host tried in vain to get Colin Campbell to describe the battle of Chillianwallah, or rather the part he had taken in it, but nothing would induce this gallant Scot to allude in the slightest degree to his own merits, for he confined himself to a sketch of the action, and the noble bearing of the troops under his com- mand. A brief account of that battle may not be out of place; however, before 1 attempt it, I will lay before my readers a characteristic anecdote of Sir Colin, which occurred during the Mutiny in India. A young soldier complained to his general that his (the complainant's) sword was " too short." "Make it longer," replied the great man, "by going a step nearer the enemy." The battle of GhillianwaHah, in which Clyde, then Campbell, took so active a part, is thus de- scribed : On the 12th of January, 1849, Gough resolved to b]*ing Sliere Singh to action before a junction with his father, Chuttur Singh, could take place, for Shere Singh's forces already amounted to forty thousand men, with sixty-two guns, and they would be raised to half as much more by the arrival of Chuttur Singh. For this purpose he marched at daylight to attack the Sikh army, which lay in- trenched in a very strong position, broken by copsewood and jungle, and intersected by deep ravines near the village of Chillianwallah. Lord Gough approached this formidable position about noon, and found the enemy drawn up in battle array, prepared to engage. A skirmish of horse- artillery soon ensued between the advanced posts, BATTLE OF CHILLIANWALLAH. 24;7 which led to Gough bringing up some heavy pieces, and these soon silenced the light guns the enemy had pushed forward ; but seeing this they immediately opened with their whole guns from right to left. It was now evident they would ad- vance their guns so as to reach the British encamp- ment before night. Lord Gough, therefore, resolved to anticipate them by an immediate attack, even before their position had been fully ascertained. Hastily the troops, though wearied with a long march, were drawn up in order of battle. Gilbert's division on the right, flanked by Pope's brigade of cavalry, with three troops of horse-arliUery. The heavy guns were stationed in the centre, and the field-batteries were with the infantry. Campbell's division, flanked by Brigadier A\' lute's brigade of cavalry, and Colonel Brind's horse-artillery, were on the left. The Sikhs were drawn up in the interstices of thick jungle, which were occupied by sharpshooters, who, themselves concealed, kept up a heavy fire on the advancing columns. They were fully forty thousand strong, with sixty-two guns, and equally strong in cavalry, which was chiefly massed on their extreme left, where the ground was favourable to the action of that arm. The entire British force was under twenty thousand comba- tants. The battle began with a cannonade which lasted nearly two hours. A forward movement was then ordered by the British left, and Campbell's men. headed by their chief, advanced with great steadi- ness to the charge. But when they approached the 248 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. enemy they were received with such a tremendous fire from the batteries in position, aided b}^ a cross fire of musketry from the enemy in the thickets, that they were forced to retire, after sustaining a very severe loss. After some vigorous and success- ful charges, both from cavalry and infantry, the eno-ajrement ended in a drawn battle. The severe loss we sustained, for no less than 27 officers, and 731 men were killed, and 66 officers, including Campbell wounded, in all 2269, and an untoward event that occurred, excited a strong feeling of alarm in England. The whole blame was laid on Gough, and the clamour raised for his recall was so loud that the Government at home yielded to it, and determined on sending out Sir Charles Napier to replace one of the bravest soldiers that ever breathed, and who shortly afterwards gained a glorious victory Dear Goojerat. To return to Lord Clyde. Perhaps the most signal instance of a general fighting successfully against an overmatched force, in point of numbers, was afibrded by Clyde. At the relief of Lucknow and defeat of the Gwahor Contingent at Cawnpore in 1857, the achievement was effected by less than six thou- sand men against sixty thousand ; the troops defeated beings inferior to none in the world in the defence of strongholds and fortifications ; and among the garrison safely brought out were above two thousand sick, or women and children, not one of whom was lost. Sir Colin Campbell's prowess during the Crimean war is too well known to require any comment of LORD CLYDE. 249 mine, but I cannot refrain from remindins- the reader of an incident which is mentioned by the author of " Letters from Head-Quarters, or the Realities of the War in the Crimea." It is thus recorded : " It was a touching sight to see the meeting between Lord Haglan and Sir Cohn Camp- bell, on the evening of the Battle of the Alma. The latter was on foot, as his horse had been killed in the earlier part of the action. He went up to his Lordship, and, with tears in his eyes, shook hands, saying it was not the first battle-field they had won together, and that now he had a favour to ask, namely, that as his Highlanders had done so well, he might be allowed to claim the privilege of wearing a Scotch bonnet. To this Lord Eaglan, of course, gave a smiling assent ; and after a few words of friendship on both sides, they parted to their several duties." Clyde " Died As he had lived his country's boast and pride." And when we see an illustrious public life ac- companied and adorned with so much simplicity, we feel (in contradiction to the common observation that heroes do not improve on a close acquaintance) that there is at least one heroic reputation : *' Qufe si propius stes Te capiet magis." And that Colin Campbell (I give his fame name) the better he is known, the more he will be honoured and beloved. 250 WARRIORS. ANDREW BARNARD. CHAPTER XV. SIR ANDREW BARNARD OF THE OLD 95tH, NOW RIFLE BRIGADE — A DINNER AT THE ALBANY— GLORIOUS ACTIONS OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE— 43rd., 6-2nD., AND 95tH REGIMENTS— A GATHERING AT SIR Andrew's— HOOK, cannon, lord graves, colonel ARMSTRONG, EDWARD WALPOLE — THE BEEF-STEAK CLUB. " Ay, many a year I followed him Whose course of glory's run ; Draw round me friends, I'd tell j'ou wliere I fought with Wellington. " For I was one who served with him Through all his fields in Spain ; Ah, i'riends ! his like we ne'er have seen, Norj'ct shall see again ! And well may England honour him ! Till earth's old days are done. The world shall hear the deeds he did — The deeds of Wellington. " 'Tis nearly fifty 3'ears since then — Yet well I mind the day When our first march we made with him To where the Frenchmen lay ; Upon the heights of Rolif a, Laborde fought long and well. We beat him ; how we beat Junot, Let Vimeira tell. SIR ANDREW BARNARD. 251 " They foiled us once at Badajoz ; Good Lord ! that work was warm ! It makes one white to think of now, The night we tried to storm. But its time came ; in that curs'd breach, By heaven ! the French fought well, But on through blood and fire we went ; In yells and shrieks it fell. " I swear it warms my blood again. Although my hair is grey. To think of how we beat Marmont On Salamanca's day. And I was with him once again. At far-famed Waterloo." THE DEEDS OF WELLINGTON. FEW men were more popular than the late Sir Andrew Barnard, of the old 95th, now Rifle Brigade. This gallant corps bears among its honour- able badges Copenhagen, Monte Video, Roli9a, Vi- meira, Corunna, Busaco, Barossa, Fuentes d'Onore, Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, Salamanca, Vittoria, Ni- velle, Nive, Orthez, Toulouse, Peninsula, Waterloo, in many of which actions Barnard took a conspicuous part. As a gallant soldier, as a true friend to everyone, from the highest rank to the most humble grade, as one who in war was as brave as a lion, in peace as gentle as a lamb, he was second to none. The friend of the Sovereign, attached to the Court of George IV., Barnard remained as simple- minded and unaffected as ever, seeking the society of his brethren-in-arms, sympathising with the dis- tress of a former comrade ; he much preferred an early, quiet dinner, and a seat in the front row of the pit of a theatre, to the Apician luxuries of 252 CELEBRITIES I HAVE KNOWN. Carlton House. At bis rooms in tbe Albany tbe utmost bospitality was kept up, and uotbing de- ligbted bim more tban tbe society of tbose wbo bad sbared bis perils and bis glories in tbe Peninsula and at Waterloo. Devoted to tbeatricals, an excel- lent amateur performer and singer bimself, be included among bis guests men of literary celebrity of tbe day. Tbeodore Hook, tbe Reverend Edward Cannon, tbe Reverend Richard Barbam (Ingoldsby), ever found a bearty welcome at bis board. I remember beins: emjacjed to dine witb bim one day to meet a most convivial party, wben as I was leaving bome I received a note, saying tbat be bad received an unexpected command to dine witb tbe King, and requesting me to do tbe bonours for bim in bis absence. This I accordingly did, wlien just as tbe clotb was being removed (for in tbose days diners a la Busse were not in fashion), our liost entered. Hook, w'ho was present, immediately commenced an extemporaneous congratulatory wel- come, in which we all joined. " What brought you back so soon?" asked Bar- bam ; we all felt with Macbeth : — " Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present." " Banquet without Banq?