fete' •:,^ ¦'¦'..'¦ :¦ • '.-5 ,''/. YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY From the Library of JAMES ANDREWS SWAN B. A. 1867 THE REMINISCENCES AND RECOLLECTIONS CAPTAIN GRONOV\^ VOLUME THE FIRST if. THE Reminiscences and Recollections CAPTAIN GRONOW BEING ANECDOTES OF THE CAMP, COURT, CLUBS, AND SOCIETY 1810-1860 fflaaitf) Portrait anU 32 ^Ilu0tration0 from ffiontemporarp Sources By JOSEPH GREGG COLOURED BY HAND IN TWO VOLUMES VOLUME THE FIRST LONDON : JOHN C. NIMMO NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1892 CONTENTS. VOLUME THE FIRST. PUBLISHER'S PREFACE JNTRODUCTORT CHAPTEE . MY ENTEANCE INTO THE AEMY DEPAETUEE FOE AND AEEIVAL IN SPAIN THE UNIFOEM AND BEAEING OF THE FEENCH SOLDIBE MAJOE-GENEEAL STBWAET AND LORD WELLINGTON . ST. JEAN DE LUZ ... FOOLHAEDINBSSDISCIPLINE ... SIR JOHN WATEES ... THE BATTLE OF THE NIVELLE . THE PASSAGE OF THE ADOUE ARRIVAL OF THE GUARDS AT BORDEAUX MES. MARY ANNE CLAEKE MRS. MAEY ANNE CLAEKE AND COLONEL WAEDLE . SOCIETY IN LONDON IN 1814 . THE ITALIAN OPERA CATALANI DINING AND COOKERY IN ENGLAND FIFTY YEAES AGO THE PEINCE EEGENT THE PRINCESS CHAELOTTE OP WALES AT A F^TE IN THE 1813, AT CARLTON HOUSE BEAU BEUMMELL ... ROMEO COATES . HYDE PARK AFTER THE PENINSULAR WAE I. a TEAR PAGE xiii XV I 2 5 6 7 10 121418 21 23 2528 3134 3638 40 43 47 52 vi CONTENTS. PAGE LONDON HOTELS IN 1814. .....-• 53 THE CLUBS OF LONDON IN 1814 55 REMARKABLE CHARACTERS OF LONDON ABOUT THE YEAES 1814, 1815 1816 58 THE GUAEDS MARCHING FEOM BNGHIBN ON THE r5TH JUNE . 64 QUATEE BRAS . . 66 GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE FIELD OF WATERLOO 68 THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON IN OUR SQUARE . . -69 THE FRENCH CAVALRY CHARGING THE BRUNSWIOKEES . 70 THE LAST CHAEGB AT WATBELOO .... 73 HUGUEMONT . . 74 BYNG WITH HIS BRIGADE AT WATBELOO .... 76 THE LATE DUKE OF RICHMOND ... 77 THE UNFORTUNATE CHARGE OF THE HOUSEHOLD BRIGADE . ']'} THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON'S OPINION OF THE ENGLISH CAVAIEY 78 MAESHAL BXCELMANn's OPINION OF THE BEITISH CAVALRY 79 APPEARANCE OF PARIS WHEN THE ALLIES ENTERED 80 MARSHAL NEY AND WELLINGTON 85 THE PALAIS EOYAL APTBE THE RESTORATION ... 86 THE ENGLISH IN PAEIS APTBR THE RESTORATION OF THE BOUEBONS . . 90 LBS ANGLAISES POUE EIEE ... 92 COACHING AND EACING IN 1815 . . . . 94 PARISIAN CAFiS IN 181 5 . . . 95 REVIEW OF THE ALLIED ARMIES BY THE ALLIED SOVEEEIGNS IN PAEIS .... 97 CONDUCT OF THE EUSSIAN AND PRUSSIAN SOLDIERS DURING THE OCCUPATION OF PARIS BY THE ALLIES . . 98 THE BEITISH EMBASSY IN PAEIS ... 99 ESCAPE OF LAVAIETTE FEOM PRISON lOO DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815 . . . I04 PISTOL-SHOOTING .... . II4 THE FAUBOURG ST. GERMAIN . ... IIJ THE SALON DBS ]6TBANGBRS IN PARIS . . . I20 THE DUOHESSE DE BERRI AT MASS AT THE CHAPELLE ROY ALE 1 24 CONTENTS. vu LORD WESTMORELAND .... ALDERMAN WOOD . ... THE OPERA . . ... FANNY ELSSLER CHARLES X. AND LOUIS PHILIPPE . LOED THANET LORD GRANVILLE, THE BRITISH AMBASSADOR MAESHAL BLUOHEE THE PRUSSIANS IN PAEIS JEW MONBY-LENDEES .... LOWBE BEOOK loed alvanley ... general palmee . . . . "monk" lewis . . . . SIR THOMAS TUETON GEOEGE SMYTHE, THE LATE LORD STRANGFORD THE HONOURABLE GEOEGE TALBOT . A DINNEE AT SIR JAMBS BLAND BDRGBS'S IN STREET, AUTUMN 1 815 LORD BYRON .... SHELLEY .... EOBERT SOUTHEY, TELE POET .... CAPTAIN HESSE, FOEMBELY OF THE i8TH HUSSARS VISITING nsr THE COUNTRY .... COLONEL KELLY AND HIS BLACKING LORD ALLEN AND COUNT D'oESAY . MR. PHELPS .... . . THE LATE LORD BLOOMFIELD . THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE CANNING. MES. BOEHM, OF ST. JAMBS'S SQUAEB DE. GOODALL, OF ETON . . . . LOED MELBOUENE, THE DUKE OF LBINSTEE, AND LOED NOEMANBY . . . THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER LADY COEK THE DUCHESS OF GORDON PAGF 125 125125126127128128129130131136138143 14s147148149 154156157159160161162162163164164165165166166 viii CONTENTS. PAGE THE LATE MRS. BRADSHAW (MAEIA TBEe) . . . 167 ladies' JEWELLERY AND LOVERS . . . . I70 THE LATE LOED HENEY SEYMOUE 171 FRANCE AND THE FRENCH 174 THEBE HEEOIO BEOTHEES 1 78 FEENCH HISTORIANS OF WATERLOO 180 NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 1 83 AFTER QUATRB BRAS I85 THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO 1 86 COLONEL COLQUITT I9I CAPIAIN CHAMBERS, PICTON's FAVOURITE AIDE-DE-CAMP. . I92 CAPTAIN ROBERT ADAIR, OF THE IST GUARDS . . . I92 ENSIGN SOMEEVILLE BUEGES, OF THE IST FOOT GUAEDS . 1 93 PERCIVAL, OF THE IST GUAEDS 1 94 SIE COLIN HALKETT .... ... I94 CAPTAIN CURZON 1 94 CAPTAIN, AFTERWARDS COLONEL KELLY, OF THE LIFE GUAEDS, AND CUE CAVALRY CHARGES I95 CHARGE OF THE HEAVY BRIGADE I96 LIEUTENANT TATHWBLL — ILL-TREATMENT OP A PRISONER BY THE FRENCH I96 SIR W. PONSONBY, LORD B. SOMERSET, SIR JOHN ELLEY, AND SIE HOE ACE SEYMOUE 1 97 THE HONOURABLE GEORGE DAMER AND COLONEL MUTER . 1 97 HOUGOUMONT .198 MEETING OF WELLINGTON AND BLDCHER .... I99 SUFFERINGS OF THE WOUNDED 200 EXCESSES OF THE PRUSSIANS 20I P^RONNE LA PUOELLE 201 YM VI0TI8 202 napoleon's MISTAKEN OPINION OP THE ENGLISH AEMY . . 203 SIE FEEDERIOK PONSONBY 204 NARROW ESCAPES — EECEPTION IN LONDON .... 205 CONDUCT OF THE ENGLISH AND PRUSSIAN ARMIES DURING THE OCCUPATION OF PARIS 2o6 CONTENTS. ix PAGE DR. KEATE IN PARIS 207 SHAVING IN A MINUTE, AND COLONEL ELLISON . . .210 IHE DUKE AND MR. CEEEVEY 212 IHE duke's RAZORS 213 MADEMOISELLE MAES . . 2I3 MADEMOISELLE RACHEL . . . . . . . 215 SIR JAMES KEMPT AND MR. DAVIES 2I9 THE CORN-LAW RIOTS AND LORD CASTLEREAGH . . . 220 THEN AND NOW ... 221 SUMNER, AND OTHER ETON MASTERS . . . .232 COUNT MONTEOND 234 SIR PEPPEE ARDEN, FATHER OF LORD ALVANLEY . . . 240 JOHN KEMBLE . . 24I REVOLUTION OP 1 848 243 ROGERS AND LUTTRELL 252 THE PIG-FACED LADY 255 BALZAC AND EUGilNE SUE 257 ALEXANDRE DUMAS 261 CIVILITY REWARDED 264 PARTY AT MANCHESTER HOUSE IN 1816, AND THE REGENT'S ETIQUETTE 267 THE BRITISH EMBASSY — LORD AND LADY GRANVILLE . . 268 HOBY, THE BOOTMAKER, OP ST. JAMBS's STREET . . . 271 HAIRDEESSING FIFTY YEARS SINCE, AND VAILS TO SERVANTS. 273 TWISLBTON PEENNES, THE LATE LORD SAYE AND SELE . .275 BURIED ALIVE 275 COUNT d'oRSAY .... . . . 277 THE SPAFIELDS RIOTS 28 1 MAD AS A HATTER 283 HARRINGTON HOUSE AND LORD PETERSHAM . . . .284 TOWNSHEND, THE BOW-STEEET OFFICER 286 MADEMOISELLE DUTh6 289 A STRANGE RENCONTRE 2gO ADMIRAL sm RICHARD STEACHAN 29 1 THE BONAPAETB FAMILY 294 CONTENTS, PARIS AFTEE THE PEACE . THE OPERA IN PARIS IN l8l5 THE COUNTESS OF ALDBOROUGH ELECTIONEERING IN 1 832 — GEIMSBY STAFFORD COUNTESS GUICCIOLI AND MADAME DODWELL THE LIGHT COMPANY'S POODLE AND SIR P. PONSONBY EXTRAVAGANCE — THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH, GRANDFATHER OF THE PRESENT DUKE MALIBRAN AND GEISI LORD ALVANLEY SALLY LUNN CAKES — THE ETYMOLOGY OF THE WOED " BUN " PICTON's OPINION OF OUR OFFICERS ADMIRAL NAGLE THE LATE LORD SCAEBOEOUGH POTAGE X LA POMPADOUE BEAEDING THE LION IN HIS DEN A MAD PEIEND LORD ALTHOEPE O'cONNELLSNUFF-TAKING .... PETITION AGAINST MY EETURN FOR STAFFORD, AND LORD CAMPBELL THE LATE LORD DUDLEY . 299 303 305 308 309311313314 316319323 324326327327329 331332333 334336 337 INDEX 341 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, COLOURED BY HAND. VOLUME THE FIRST. PAGE I. Portrait op Captain Gronow . . . Frontispiece Engraved hy J. C. Armytage from a Miniature. 2. The First Quadrille at Almack's : Marquis of Wor cester, Lady Jersey, Clanronald Macdonald, Lady Wor cester . 32 3. The Rival Romeos, or " Eomeo " Coates and Mathews 48 4. The Tide of Fashion in the Park . 52 5. HABiTUjfis op White's : Marquis of Londonderry, Colonel " Kangaroo " Cooke, Captain Gronow, Lord Allen, Count d'Orsay ... ... 58 6. The Occupation of Paris, 1814 : English Visitors in the Palais Royal, from a French point of view ... 90 7. Pillars op the Opera : Prince Esterhazy, Lord Fife, BaU Hughes, Lord Wilton . . . . 121 di LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 8. Dandies of other Days : Sir Lumley Skeffingtoa, Lord Petersham 145 176 9. Two Polite Nations: English ¦yersits French, 18 14 10. Comrades in Aems : Sir Thomas Graham (Lord Lyne^ doch), after Sir Thomas Lawrence, P.B.A. ; Lord HUl, after H. W. FieJcersgill, R.A. ; Sir Thomas Picton, after Sir M. A. Shee, RA. ; and the Marquis of Anglesea, after Sir Thomas Lawrence, P.B.A. II. Paet of the Allies entering Paris, 1814 : The Rus sian Contingent — Cossacks and Plunder . . . 207 12. Well-known Bond Street Loungers, 1820 : The Earl of Sef ton, the Duke of Devonshire, " Poodle " Byng, Lord Manners, the Duke of Beaufort .... 237 13. Prominent Celebrities — ^A Sketch in the Park, 1834 : The Duke of Wellington, Mrs. Arbuthnot, Prince TaUeyrand, Count d'Orsay 277 14. Votaries of Fashion — St. James's : Lord Petersham, &c. 284 15. The Emperor Napoleon I. at the Head of his Staff 299 16. The Light of other Days : Lord Alvanley, Lord HUl, Lord Yarmouth 320 PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. The task of illustrating this new edition has been entrusted to Joseph Grego, and, while no attempt has been made to produce what might be entitled original designs, all the new subjects are drawn from authentic contemporary sources, and from pictures which have a direct reference to the text. As Captain Gronow's "Reminiscences" deal largely with eccentric personages, odd celebrities, and incidents somewhat out of the common order, it has been considered in keeping to select portraits and subjects which are strongly char acterised, though not precisely caricatures. Captain Gronow's "Reminiscences" have become standard authorities, but owing to the absence of indices to the original series, it has been found a difficult and inconvenient labour to xiv PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. readily alight upon passages or names required for immediate reference or quotation ; to remedy this manifest defect, an exhaustive index, con taining several thousand references, has been supplied to each volume. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. CONCERNING CAPTAIN GRONOW AND HIS RECOLLECTIONS. O friends regretted, scenes for ever dear ! Remembrance hails you with her warmest tear ! Drooping she bends o'er pensive fancy's urn, To trace the hours which never can return. These lines, which appear on the title-page of Captain Gronow's first series of " Reminiscences and Anecdotes," epitomise the sentimental aspect of his recollections. For half a century it was the fortune of the narrator to be thrown into contact with the notabilities and notabilia of London and Paris. A pronounced taste for fashionable society, an early introduction to the best circles, the advantage of possessing an extensive acquaint anceship with the most conspicuous celebrities of his day, an omnivorous appetite for racy anec dotes, a retentive memory, which, without effort, gathered and stored up the literary waifs and strays — the conversational " small change " which xvi INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. passed current in his generation — were in them selves elements sufficient to qualify the gallant captain as an exceptionally entertaining raconteur. After detailing his piquant store of anecdotes to his contemporaries for a couple of generations, Captain Gronow was induced to take up his pen, and commit to print an experimental instalment of the incidents with which he had hitherto re galed his friends vivd voce, with light rapid touch, and in a brisk unaffected style which preserves the point of lively converse. The brilliant tradi tions of the town, the superficial characteristics of a period which presented salient traits of individuality — when manners and morals were less restricted than in our day — are dexterously handled, and the ready easy flowing record is directed by the instinct of a fine gentleman. " How these estimable progenitors of ours dressed, drank, swore, fought, gambled, and beggared their unhappy descendants," an oft-told tale, acquires a fresh interest in these varied ghmpses of a once bustling and motley Vanity Fair — the booths of which have long since departed, and many of the actors therein seem almost as distant from our time as those described by John Bunyan himself. Captain Gronow modestly observes his " Remi- INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. xvii niscences " are merely fragmental and miniature illustrations of contemporary history, and, in the eyes of posterity, it is this circumstance which gives value to his anecdotes ; the subjects re corded by his pen are, of necessity, for the most part outside the province of graver historians or more serious biographers, and are precisely those familiar sketches which fill in realistic details, and supply the essentials of local colour. The First Series appeared in 1862, and met with a flattering reception. The writer, as he averred, was able to recall, with all their original vividness, scenes which occurred in his early days, nature having endowed him with the reten tive faculty of " distinctly recollecting the face, walk, and voice, as well as the dress and general manner of every one whom he had known." It had been the lot of Captain Gronow, as he informed his readers, " to have lived through the greater part of one of the most eventful centuries of England's history ; to be thrown amongst most of the remarkable men of his day, whether soldiers, statesmen, men of letters, theatrical people, or those whose birth and fortune — rather, perhaps, than their virtues and talents — have caused them to be conspicuous at home and abroad." The writer, from motives of delicacy, omitted much xviii INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER which — though lively and interesting even be yond what he has left us — he thought it expe dient to withhold from publication, no less from respect to the memory of the dead, than out of consideration for the sensibilities of the living. In the pictures which hung in the long gallery of his memory. Captain Gronow thought proper to " confine himself to facts and characteristics which were familiar to the circles in which he lived, and perhaps are as much public property as the painted portraits of celebrities." The reviewers pronounced the writer's manner possessed " the merit of a sensible man of the world's freedom from egotism." Captain Gronow was deferentially apologetic as to possible defects of style, due to inexperience, merely claiming to have jotted down the anecdotes " in the best way he could." He wrote, " Soldiers are not generally famous for literary excellence, and when I was young, the military man was, perhaps, much less a scholar than he is at the present day." The initial Series — " Anecdotes of the Camp, the Court, and the Clubs, at the close of the last war with France " — was indulgently received be yond the expectations of the writer, and Captain Gronow was encouraged to redeem a conditional promise that, if his work met with the approba- INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. xix tion of the public, he hoped to publish, from the materials stored in his memory, a further reper tory of similar nature. A Second Series of Remi niscences appeared in 1863, particularly dealing with the events of 1815, and that momentous struggle, of which the writer was not only an eye witness, but also bore the dangers of the day with his comrades of the Guards : " Though the battle of Waterloo is almost a hackneyed subject, yet it has been latterly so frequently brought forward by French writers of celebrity, that I have thought some further observations might not prove alto gether without interest." This paragraph refers more immediately to the works of M. Thiers, Colonel Charras, Quinet's Defence of Marshal Ney, and Victor Hugo's romance of " Les Mise rable s." In his brief preface to the Second Series of "Recollections and Anecdotes," Captain Gronow, with excellent taste, begs the indulgence of his readers for the occasional introduction of sentences in foreign idioms, unavoidable under the circum stances, where no English equivalents are avail able, and the spirit of the original would be sacrificed by a vernacular rendering. " I must conclude with an apology for having introduced French and Italian words and phrases into an XX INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. English book ; but the fact is, that though our language is a far richer one than at least the French, there are certain words that cannot be rendered into their exact corresponding mean ing by translation, and consequently the point of many jokes and clever sayings would be entirely lost." The Third Series of Captain Gronow's " Recol lections," which appeared in 1865, was devoted to " Celebrities of London and Paris," and, amongst the special features, the writer, as an eye-witness, detailed his experiences of the "Coup d'^fitat," which, according to his convictions, re stored prosperity and power to France ; the impe rial dynasty had his sympathy, and as he did not live to see the defects of the third Empire and the sudden downfall of Napoleon IIL, his remi niscences naturally refer to that sovereign as the ruler of the French nation. Concerning his notes upon the high-handed movement which placed Napoleon III. upon the throne, the writer assures his readers that the accuracy of his statements may be relied upon, since he had not entirely trusted to his own memory, but had taken the precaution of verifying every circumstance by reference to contemporary living authorities. The unpretentious preface to the Third Series INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. xxi is characteristic of the author — " As in conversa tional groups one story suggests another, some modest anecdotes may become the parents of a numerous progeny, though the offspring may not prove equally interesting or amusing, and some may even be born lame ; so this Third volume of my ' Recollections ' is to be attributed to the con versational philoprogenitiveness of friendly gossip. I cannot help feeling that, amongst my numerous anecdotal progeny, there may be some abortions ; for it often happens that what is interesting or amusing to ourselves from association, fails to amuse others, and I may have noted down remi niscences unworthy of record. But it appears to me that I am very much in the position of some raconteur in society whom a friendly party is bent upon making talk on." Captain Gronow lived to prepare a Fourth and concluding Series of " Reminiscences and Anec dotes," and, while the proofs of the volume were in the hands of the writer for final revision, there came the unexpected news of his death, which occurred in Paris, 20th November 1865; the work was issued in 1866 as "Captain Gronow's Last Recollections." As with the premonition of his own approaching end, the author mourn fully wrote : — xxii INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. " I have lived long enough to have lost all my dearest and best friends. The great laws of humanity have left me on a high and dry eleva tion, from which I am doomed to look over a sort of Necropolis, whence it is my delight to caU forth choice spirits of the past." The professional career and subsequent life of Captain Gronow are fairly and sufficiently chronicled incidentally in the pages of his per sonal recollections. "Nothing extenuate nor set down aught in malice," the principle he meted out to others should justly be his right. He was apparently a favoured child of fortune, was pre sented with a commission in the Grenadier Guards on leaving Eton — in the stirring days of the Pen insular war the youth of England early received its " baptism of fire " — and from the age of six teen, Gronow mixed freely with that select com munity emphatically described as " the world " — otherwise the favoured portion of society. He joyfully accepted and with keen enjoyment took his part in fashionable life with characteristic com placency and nonchalance ; from early days appre ciating to the full all that life could offer to a "dandy guardsman " — the excitement of campaign ing, a well-filled purse, social gaiety, congenial associates — "fair women and brave men," with, INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. xxiii for a season, a seat in the first Reformed Parlia ment. It may be interesting to note that, — to account for certain mysterious but unauthenticated rumours of distinguished and even royal patronage — characteristic of the young guardsman's genera tion, — the family of Captain Gronow claimed royal descent. He was the son of William Gronow of Court Herbert. On the authority of Sir Bernard Burke (" Landed Gentry "), the Gronows were a very ancient family originally seated in North Wales, where they had large landed possessions. In the reign of Edward IIL, Sir Tudor ap Gronow, an ancestor of the regal house of Tudor, claimed the honour of knighthood, for by the laws and constitution of King Arthur, he deemed him self entitled to that distinction upon the ground of possessing the following threefold qualifications — birth, estate, and valour. King Edward IIL, being pleased with the bold and lordly mien of Sir Tudor ap Gronow, was induced to confer the honour upon him. Owen Tudor, the grandson of this bold knight, married the widow of Henry V., and their son Jasper Tudor, Earl of Richmond, was the father of Henry VII. Being thus regally connected, the family 'scutcheon bears in its quarterings the lions of England. xxiv INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. In the choir of St. David's Cathedral there remain two recumbent effigies in armour, repre senting two members of this family. On the breast and back of each figure is sculptured a lion rampant, that in one of them being differenced by a label. The vpriter passed so much of his life in Paris, and has drawn such animated pictures of French society, that it is amusing — as a contrast to his own impressions of Parisian celebrities — to learn the opinions of a foreign contemporary upon Cap tain Gronow, and this we are enabled to do from the pages of M. H. de Villemessant's "Memoirs of a Journalist," * published in 1872. " Mr. Gronow, when I knew him, was small, spare, and about fifty years of age ; his hair was thinning, and he wore a small moustache, of which the edge was daily shaved, which did not disguise the circumstance tha,t the Captain's latent vanity had recourse to a brown dye. He always wore a blue tight-fitting coat, closely buttoned, just allowing a narrow line of white waistcoat to be visible. " It was customary, in certain circles, to lay wagers that he slept with the top of his gold- * H. de Villemessant, Memoires d'un Journallstie. I™° Sirie, oh. ix. 1872. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. xxv headed cane between his lips. This action ^^'as chaj-acteristic. With the head of his well-known stick pressed to his lips, the Captain spent his days seated at the window, watching every one he knew in Paris pass the ' Petit Cercle,' of which he was one of the founders, and where the latter part of his life was spent. This ' Cercle ' was a small and select Club, occupying a suite of rooms in the ' Cafd de Paris,' on the boulevard des Italiens. " He was very ' good form,' had a great respect for everything that was proper and convenient, and a strong propensity to become eccentric. He committed the greatest follies, without in the slightest disturbing the points of his shirt collar. He had married a lady of the ' corps de ballet,' and would rather have blown out his brains than have gone to the opera in morning costume. " This little man, with his hair well arranged, scented, cold, and phlegmatic, knew the best people in Paris, visited all the diplomats, and was evidently intimate with everybody of note in Europe." A natural reserve, which prevented Gronow from enlarging, amongst comparative strangers, upon his family connections, led, in the minds of slight acquaintances who had no better infor mation on the subject, to vague and romantic xxvi INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. surmises as to his origin ; opinion wavered be tween the assumption that the Captain was the descendant of a race of wealthy retired brewers, and the more popular hypothesis, that he was the illegitimate son of an exalted personage. It was rumoured that his mother had been very intimate with Mrs. Jordan, and that it was due to this influence that young Gronow had obtained a company in the Grenadier Guards at the outset of his career. These imaginary antecedents must be dismissed as the fabrications of ignorant gossip ; the French writer merely recorded the irrespon sible tittle-tattle floating on the surface, and he, moreover, seems to have confused his remem brances of the Captain with certain episodes related in Gronow's own " Recollections ; " a certain Cap tain Hesse, a putative son of the Duke of York, was probably the actual hero of the following apocryphal anecdote M. de Villemessant relates : — " Gronow was one of the prettiest dandy officers of proud Albion, and for years his miniature por trait was secretly carried about by a great princess who was madly in love with him, and sometimes, when a fashionable beauty was passing, he was observed carelessly opening the red morocco case in which he found again the souvenirs of his youth and his successes ; then he sighed and shut INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. xxvii it again. This was the only proof of sensibility he ever gave." On the same authority, " classical " and " thoroughbred " were the two words with which the subject of these curious revelations expressed his admiration for female beauty. " The prin cess must have spent some very happy moments," writes the journalist. " Gronow belonged to the school of ' silent diplomatists,' which implies that he said a great deal, and spoke diffusely when ever he made up his mind to unburden himself" The " Memoirs " continue ; " He was fond of English literature, and though he had not much sympathy with the character and politics of Lord Byron, Gronow greatly valued him as a poet. This little man, who had a face like marble, felt very deeply, a contrast not altogether exceptional. " Perhaps he had been obliged to conceal his feelings, the better to baffle prying looks when he was not kneeling at the feet of his princess (still that fair personage of Fairyland!), and he had never been able to throw off the mask. But when he was extolling the sombre and impres sive creations of Byron no one could doubt that passion had formerly dwelt in the heart of this man of past experiences. " With genuine enthusiasm he analysed the tempests which must have raged in the souls of xxviii INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. the heroes of his favourite poet, of The Giaour, The Corsair, and above all of Lara, whom he claimed to have known, for, if Gronow may be credited, Lara and Manfred really existed, and their living prototype was the once well-known Captain Trelawney, who became very intimate with Lord Byron in Greece. Gronow related certain of Trelawney's adventures without hesitation — some times in an impassioned tone of voice, but (accord ing to habit) without ever ceasing to rub his chin with the handle of his stick. And when his auditors inquired ' what subsequently became of this hero of romance % ' he replied : ' I don't know. Trelawney now eats pudding in England, and does not care for us ! ' " Much has been written elsewhere upon, the subject of Trelawney as a Byronic hero, but, according to Gronow's own recollections, " the noble bard could never write a poem or drama without making himself its hero." The above description of our author is given on its merits ; in any case it is somewhat entertain ing. In conclusion, it is interesting to learn from authoritative sources that, while Captain Gronow's latter years were occupied in recording these reminiscences, they were cheered by the society of his wife and family. CAPTAIN GRONOW'S EECOLLECTIONS AND ANECDOTES. My Entrance into the Aemy. — After leaving Eton, I received an Ensign's commission in the First Guards during the month of December 1812. Though many years have elapsed, I still remember my boyish delight at being named to so distinguished a regiment, and at the prospect of soon taking a part in the glorious deeds of our army in Spain. I joined in February 1813, and cannot but recollect with astonishment how limited and imperfect was the instruction which an officer received at that time ; he absolutely entered the army without any military education whatever. We were so defective in our drill, even after we had passed out of the hands of the sergeant, that the excellence of our non-commissioned officers alone prevented us from meeting with the most fatal disasters in the face of the enemy. Physical force and our bull-dog energy carried many a hard-fought field. Luckily, nouS' avons change tout cela, aud our officers may now vie with those of any other army in an age when the great improvements in musketry, in artillery practice, and in the greater rapidity of manoeuvring. A 2 DEPARTURE FOR AND ARRIVAL IN SPAIN. have entirely changed the art of war, and rendered the individual education of those in every grade of command an absolute necessity. After passing through the hands of the drill ser geant with my friends Dashwood, Batty, Browne, Lascelles, Hume, and Master, and mounting guard at St James's for a few months, we were hurried off, one fine morning, in charge of a splendid de tachment of five hundred men to join Lord Wel lington in Spain. Macadam had just begun to do for England what Marshal Wade did in Scotland seventy years before ; and we were able to march twenty miles a day with ease until we reached Portsmouth. There we found transports ready to convey a large reinforcement, of which we formed part, to Lord Wellington, who was now making his arrangements, after taking St Sebastian, for a yet more important event in the history of the Penin sular War — the invasion of France. Departure for and Arrival in Spain. — We sailed under convoy of the Madagascar frigate, commanded by Captain Curtis ; and, after a favour able voyage, we arrived at Passages. Our stay there was short, for we were ordered to join the army without loss of time. In three hours we got fairly into camp, where we were received with loud cheers by our brothers in arms. The whole British army was here under canvas ; our allies, the Spaniards and Portuguese, being in the rear. About the middle of October, to our great delight, the army received orders to cross the Bidassoa. At three o'clock on the morning of the 15th our regiment advanced through a difficult DEPARTURE FOR AND ARRIVAL IN SPAIN. 3 country, and, after a harassing march, reached the top of a hill as the gray light of morning began to dawn. We marched in profound silence, but with a pleasurable feeling of excitement amongst all ranks at the thought of meeting the enemy, and perhaps with not an equally agreeable idea that we might be in the next world before the day was over. As we ascended the rugged side of the hill, I saw, for the first time, the immortal WeUington. He was accompanied by the Spanish General, Alava, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, and Major, afterwards Colo nel Freemantle. He was very stern and grave- looking ; he was in deep meditation, so long as I kept him in view, and spoke to no one. His fea tures were bold, and I saw much decision of char acter in his expression. He rode a knowing-look ing, thorough-bred horse, and wore a gray overcoat, Hessian boots, and a large cocked hat. We commenced the passage of the Bidassoa about five in the morning, and in a short time infantry, cavalry, and artillery found themselves upon French ground. The stream at the point we forded was nearly four feet deep, and had Soult been aware of what we were about, we should have found the pas sage of the river a very arduous undertaking. Three mUes above, we discovered the French army, and ere long found ourselves under fire. The sensation of being made a target to a large body of men is at first not particularly pleasant, but, " in a trice, the ear becomes more Irish, and less nice." The first man I ever saw killed was a Spanish soldier, who was cut in two by a cannon ball. The French army, not long after we began to return their fire, was in full retreat; and after a little sharp, but 4 DEPARTURE FOR AND ARRIVAL IN SPAIN". desultory fighting, in which our Division met with some loss, we took possession of the camp and strong position of Soult's army. We found the soldiers' huts very comfortable ; they were built of branches of trees and furze, and formed squares and streets, which had names placarded up, such as Rue de Paris, Rue de Versailles, &c. We were not sorry to find ourselves in such commodious quarters, as well as being well housed. The scenery surround ing the camp was picturesque and grand. From our elevated position, immediately in front, we com manded a wide and extensive plain, intersected by two important rivers, the Nive and the Nivelle. On the right, the lofty Pyrenees, with their grand and varied outline, stood forth conspicuously in a blue, cloudless sky; on our left was the Bay of Biscay, with our cruisers perpetually on the move. We witnessed from the camp, one night about twelve o'clock, a fight at sea, between an English brig and a French corvette, which was leaving the Adour with provisions and ammunition. She was chased by the brig, and brought to action. The night was sufficiently clear to enable us to discover distinctly the position of the vessels and the mea sured flash of their guns. They were at close quar ters; and in less than half an hour we discovered the crew of the corvette taking to their boats. Shortly afterwards the vessel blew up, with a loud explosion. We came to the conclusion that sea- fighting was more agreeable than land-fighting, as the crews of the vessels engaged without previous heavy marching, and with loose light clothing ; there was no manoeuvring, or standing for hours on the defensive ; the wounded were immediately UNIFORM, ETC., OF THE FRENCH SOLDIER. 5 taken below and attended to ; and the whole affair was over iu a pleasingly brief period. The Uniform and Bearing of the French Soldier. — The French infantry soldier averaged about five feet five or six in height ; in build they were much about what they are now, perhaps a little broader over the shoulder. They were smart, active, handy fellows, and much more able to look after their personal comforts than British soldiers, as their camps indicated. The uniform of those days consisted in a shako, which spread out at the top ; a short-waisted, swallow-tailed coat ; and large, baggy trousers and gaiters. The clothing of the French soldier was roomy, and enabled him to march and move about at ease : no pipeclay acces sories occupied their attention ; in a word, their uniforms and accoutrements were infinitely supe rior to our own, taking into consideration the prac tical necessities of warfare. Their muskets were inferior to ours, and their firing less deadly. The French cavalry we thought badly horsed ; but their uniforms, though showy, were, like those of the infantry, comfortably large and roomy. I have frequently remarked that firearms are of little use to the mounted soldier, and often an in cumbrance to man and horse. Cavalry want only one arm — the sabre. Let the men be well mounted, and at home in the saddle. It requires great know ledge in a Commander-in-Chief to know when and how to use his cavalry. It has been my misfortune to witness oft-repeated blunders in the employment of the best-mounted regiments in the world. I con sider the French generals had more knowledge of 6 MAJOR-GEN. STEWART AND WELLINGTON. the use of cavalry than our own, when a great battle was to be fought, Major-General Stewart and Lord Welling ton. — If the present generation of Englishmen would take the trouble of looking at the news paper which fifty years ago informed the British public of passing events both at home and abroad, they would, doubtless, marvel at the very limited and imperfect amount of intelligence which the best journals were enabled to place before their readers. The progress of the Peninsular campaign was very imperfectly chronicled ; it will, there fore, be easily imagined what interest was attached to certain letters that appeared in the Morning Chronicle which criticised with much severity, and frequently with considerable injustice, the military movements of Lord Wellington's Spanish campaigns. The attention of the Commander-in-Chief being drawn to these periodical and personal comments on his conduct of the war, his lordship at once per ceived, from the information which they contained, that they must have been written by an officer hold ing a high command under him. Determined to ascertain the author — who, in addressing a public journal, was violating the Articles of War, and, it might be, assisting the enemy — means were em ployed in London to identify the writer. The result was, that Lord Wellington discovered the author of the letters to be no other than Sir Charles Stewart, the late Lord Londonderry, As soon as Lord Wel lington had made himself master of this fact, he summoned Sir Charles Stewart to head-quarters at ST. JEAN DE LUZ. 7 Torres Vedras ; and, on his appearance, he, without the least preface, addressed him thus: — " Charles Stewart, I have ascertained with deep regret that you are the author of the letters which appeared in the Morning Chronicle, abusing me and finding fault ^^'ith my military plans." Lord Welhngton here paused for a moment, and then continued : — " Now, Stewart, you know your brother Castle- reagh is my best friend, to whom I owe everything ; nevertheless, if you continue to write letters to the Chronicle, or any other newspaper, by God, I will send you home," Sir Charles Stewart was so affected at this rebuke that he shed tears, and expressed himself deeply penitent for the breach of confidence and want of respect for the Articles of AVar. They immediately shook hands and parted friends. It happened, how ever, that Sir Charles Stewart did not remain long in the cavalry, of which he was Adjutant-general. Within a few weeks he was named one of the Com missioners deputed to proceed to the Allied Armies, where the Sovereigns were then completing their plans to crush Napoleon. St Jean de Luz. — During the winter of 1813, the Guards were stationed with head-quartisrs at St Jean de Luz, and most comfortable we managed to make them. For some short time previously we had been on scanty commons, and had undergone considerable privation : indeed we might have said, like the Colonel to Johnny Newcome on his arrival to join his regiment, "We sons of Mars have long been fed on brandy and cigars." I had no cause to 8 ST. JEAN DE LUZ, complain personally ; for my servant, a Sicilian, was one of the most accomplished foragers (ill-natured persons might give him a worse name) in the whole army ; and when others were nearly starving, he always managed to provide meat or poultry. He rode on his mule sometimes from twenty to thirty miles, often running the greatest dangers, to pro cure me a good meal ; of which he took care to have, very justly, a large share for himself. At St Jean de Luz, we were more attentive to our devotions than we had been for some time. Divine service was performed punctually every Sunday on the sand-hills near the town ; Lord Wellington and his numerous Staff placed themselves in the midst of our square, and his lordship's chaplain read the service, to which Lord Wellington always appeared to listen with great attention. The mayor of the town, thinking to please "the great Enghsh lord," gave a ball at the Hotel de Ville : our Commander-in-Chief did not go, but was represented by Waters. I was there, and expected to see some of the young ladies of the country, so famed for their beauty ; they were, however, far too patriotic to appear, and the only lady present was Lady Waldegrave, then living with her husband at head-quarters. What was one partner among so many 1 The ball was a dead failure, in spite of the efforts of the mayor, who danced, to our intense amusement, an English hornpipe, which he had learnt in not a very agreeable manner, viz., when a prisoner of war in the hulks at Plymouth. There were two packs of hounds at St Jean de Luz ; one kept by Lord Wellington, the other by Marsden, of the Commissariat : our officers went ST. JEAN DE LUZ. 0 uncommonly straight. Perhaps our best man across country (though sometimes somewhat against his will) was the late Colonel Lascelles of my regiment, then, like myself, a mere lad. He rode a horse seventeen hands high, called Bucephalus, Avhich in variably ran away witli him, and more tlian once had nearly capsized Lord Wellington. The good living at St Jean de Luz agreed so well with my friend that he waxed fat, and from that period to his death was known to the world by the jovial appel lation of Bacchus Lascelles. Shortly before we left St Jean de Luz, we took our turn of outposts in the neighbourhood of Bidart, a large village, about ten miles from Bayonne, Early one frosty morning in December, an order came, that if we saw the enemy advancing, we were not to fire or give the alarm. About five, we per ceived two battalions wearing grenadier caps coming on. They turned out to belong to a Nassau regiment which had occupied the advanced post of the enemy, and, hearing that Napoleon had met with great reverses in Germany, signified to us their intention -to desert. They were a fine-looking body of men, and appeared, I thought, rather ashamed of the step they had taken. On the same day, we were relieved, and on our way back met Lord Wellington with his hounds. He was dressed in a light-blue frock-coat (the colour of the Hatfield hunt) which had been sent out to him as a present from Lady Salisbury, then one of the leaders of the fashionable world, and an enthusiastic admirer of his lordship. Here, I remember seeing for the first time, a very remarkable character, the Hon, W. Dawson, of my regiment. He was surrounded by muleteers, with 10 FOOLHARDINESS, whom he was bargaining to provide carriage for in- numerable hampers of wine, liqueurs, hams, potted meat, and other good things which he had brought from England, He was a particularly gentlemanly and amiable man, much beloved by the regiment .• no one was so hospitable or lived so magnificently. His cooks were the best in the army, and he, besides, had a host of servants of all nations — Spaniards, French, Portuguese, Italians — who were employed in scouring the country for provisions. Lord Wel lington once honoured him with his company ; and on entering the ensign's tent, found him alone at table, with a dinner fit for a king, his plate and linen in good keeping, and his wines perfect. Lord Wellington was accompanied on this occasion by Sir Edward Pakenham and Colonel du Burgh, after wards Lord Downes. It fell to my lot to partake of his princely hospitality, and dine with him at his quarters, a farmhouse in a village on the Bidassoa, and I never saw a better dinner put upon table. The career of this amiable Amphitryon, to our great regret, was cut short, after exercising for about a year, a splendid, but not very wise hospitality. He had only a younger brother's fortune ; his debts became very considerable, and he was obliged to quit the Guards, He and his friends had literally eaten up his little fortune. FooLHARDiNESS. — I may here recount an instance of the folly and foolhardiness of youth, and the recklessness to which a long course of exposure to danger produces. When Bayonne was invested, I was one night on duty on the outer picket. The ground inside the breastwork which had been thrown FOOLHARDINESS. 11 up for our protection by Burgoyne Avas in a most disagreeable state for any one who wished to repose after the fatigues of the day, being knee-deep in mud of a remarkably plastic nature. I was dead tired, and determined to get a little rest in some more agreeable spot ; so calling my sergeant, I told him to give me his knapsack for a pillow ; I would make a comfortable night of it on the top of the breastwork, as it was an invitingly dry place, "For heaven's sake take care, sir," said he ; " you'll have fifty bullets in you : you will be killed to a certainty." " Pooh, nonsense," said I, and climbing up, I Avrapt myself in my cloak, laid my head on the knapsack, and soon feU. into a sound sleep. By the mercy of Providence I remained in a whole skin, either from the French immediately underneath not perceiving me or not thinking me worth a shot ; but when General Stopford came up with Lord James Hay, (who not long since reminded me of this youthful escapade,) I received a severe wigging, and was told to consider myself lucky that I was not put under arrest for exposing my life in so foolish a manner. Among the many officers of the Guards who were taken prisoners in the unfortunate sortie from Bayonne, was the Hon, H, Townshend, commonly called Bull Townshend. He was celebrated as a hon vivant, and in consequence of his too great im dulgence in the pleasures of the table, had become very unwieldy, and could not move quick enough lo please his nimble captors, so he received many prods in the back from a sharp bayonet. After repeated threats, however, he was dismissed with what our American friends would be pleased to 12 DISCIPLINE. designate " a severe booting," The late Sir Wil longhby Cotton was also a prisoner. It really seemed as if the enemy had made choice of our fattest officers. Sir Willoughby escaped by giving , up his watch and all the money which he had in his pockets ; but this consisting of a Spanish dollar only, the smallness of the sum subjected him to the same ignominious treatment as had been experienced by Townshend, Among the numerous bad characters in our ranks, several were coiners, or utterers of bad money. In the second brigade of Guards, just before we arrived at St Jean de Luz, a soldier was convicted of this offence, and was sentenced to receive 800 lashes. This man made sham Spanish dollars out of the .pewter spoons of the regiment. As he had before been convicted and flogged, he received this terrible sentence, and died under the lash. Would it not have been better to have condemned him to be shot 1 — It would have been more humane, certainly more military, and far less brutal. Discipline, — When the head-quarters of the army were at St Jean de Luz, Soult made a movement in front of our right centre, which the English general took for a reconnaissance. As the French general perceived that we had ordered preparations to re ceive him, he sent a flag of truce to demand a ces sation of hostilities, saying that he wanted to shoot an officer and several men for acts of robbery com mitted by them, with every sort of atrocity, on the farmers and peasantry of the country. The execu tion took place in view of both armies, and a terrible lesson it was. I cannot specify the date of thia DISCIPLINE 13 event, but think it must have been the latter end of November, 1813, About the same time General Harispe, who commanded a corps of Basques, issued a proclamation forbidding the peasantry to supply the English with provisions or forage, on pain of death ; it stated that we were savages, and, as a proof of this, our horses were born with short tails. I saw this absurd proclamation, which was published in French and in the Basque languages, and distri buted all over the country. Before we left the neighbourhood of Bayonne for Bordeaux, a soldier was hanged for robbery, on the sands of the Adour, This sort of punishment asto nished the French almost as much as it did the soldier. On' a march we were very severe ; and if any of our men were caught committing an act of violence or brigandage, the offender was tried by a drum-head court-martial, and hanged in a very short time, I knew an officer of the 18th Hussars, W. R., young, rich, and a fine-looking fellow, who joined the army not far from St Sebastian, His stud of horses was remarkable for their blood ; his grooms were English, and three in number. He brought with him a light cart to carry forage, and a fourgon for his own baggage. All went on well till he came to go on outpost duty ; but not finding there any of the comforts to which he had been accustomed,. he quietly mounted his charger, told his astonished, sergeant that campaigning was not intended for a gentleman, and instantly galloped off to his quar ters, ordering his servants to pack up everything immediately, as he had hired- a transport to take him off to England. He left us before any one had li SIR JOHN WATERS. time to stop him ; and though despatches were sent off to the Commander-in-Chief, requesting that a court-martial might sit to try the young deserter, he arrived home long enough before the despatches to enable him to sell out of his regiment. He deserved to have been shot. Sir John Hope, who commanded our corps d'armee at Bayonne, had his quarters at a village on the Adour, called Beaucauld, He was good enough to name me to the command of the village ; which honour I did not hold many days, for the famous sortie from Bayonne took place soon after, and the general was made prisoner. Sir John Waters, — Amongst the distinguished men in the Peninsular war whom my memory brings occasionally before me, is the well-known and highly popular Quartermaster-General Sir Johu Waters, who was born at Margam, a Welsh village in Gla morganshire, He was one of those extraordinary persons that seem created by kind nature for par ticular purposes ; aud without using the word in an offensive sense, he was the most admirable spy that was ever attached to an army. One would almost have thought that the Spanish war was entered upon and carried on in order to display his remark able qualities. He could assume the character of Spaniards of every degree and station, so as to deceive the most acute of those whom he delighted to imitate. In the posada of the village he was hailed by the contrabandist or the muleteer as one of their own race; in the gay assemblies he was an accomplished hidalgo ; at the bull-fight the torreador received his congratulations as from one who had SIR JOHN WATERS. 15 encountered the toro in the arena; in the church he would converse Avith the friar upon the number of Ave Marias and Paternosters which could lay a ghost, or tell him the history of every one who had perished by the flame of the Inquisition, relating his crime, whether carnal or anti-Catholic ; and he could join in the seguadilla or in the guaracha. But what rendered him more efficient than all was his wonderful power of observation and accu rate description, Avhich made the information he gave so reliable and valuable to the Duke of Wel lington, Nothing escaped him. When amidst a group of persons, he would minutely watch the movement, attitude, and expression of every indi vidual that composed it ; in the scenery by which he was surrounded he would carefully mark every object : — not a tree, not a bush, not a large stone, escaped his observation ; and it was said that in a cottage he noted every piece of crockery on the shelf, every domestic utensil, and even the number of knives and forks that were got ready for use at dinner. His acquaintance with the Spanish language was marvellous ; from the finest works of Calderon to the ballads in the patois of every province, he could quote, to the infinite delight of those with whom he associated. He could assume any character that he pleased : he could be the Castilian, haughty and reserved ; the Asturian, stupid and plodding ; the Catalonian, intriguing and cunning; the Andalusian, laughing and merry ; — in short, he was all things to all men. Nor was he incapable of passing off, when occasion required, for a Frenchman ; but as he spoke the language with a strong German accent, he called 16 SIR JOHN WATERS. himself an Alsatian, He maintained that character with the utmost nicety ; and as there is a strong feeling of fellowship, almost equal to that which exists in Scotland, amongst all those who are born ~ in the departments of France bordering on the Rhine, and who maintain their Teutonic originality, he always found friends and supporters in every regiment in the French service. He was on one occasion intrusted with a very difficult mission by the Duke of Wellington, which he undertook effectually to perform, and to return on a particular day with the information that was required. Great was the disappointment when it was ascer tained beyond a doubt that just after leaving the camp he had been taken prisoner, before he had time to exchange his uniform. Such, however, was the case : a troop of dragoons had intercepted him, and carried him off; and the commanding officer desired two soldiers to keep a strict watch over him and carry him to head-quarters. He was of course disarmed, and being placed on a horse, was, after a short time, galloped off by his guards. He slept one night under durance vile at a small inn, where he was allowed to remain in the kitchen ; conversation flowed on very glibly, and as he appeared a stupid Englishman, who could not understand a word of French or Spanish, he was allowed to listen, and thus obtained precisely the intelligence that he was in search of. The foUoAving morning, being again mounted, he overheard a conversation between his guards, who deliberately agreed to rob him, and to shoot him at a mill where they were to stop, and to report to their officer that they had been compelled ; SIR JOHN WATERS. 17 to fire at him in consequence of his attempt to escape. Shortly before they arrived at the mill, for fear that they might meet with some one who Avould in sist on having a portion of the spoil, the dragoons took from their prisoner his watch and his purse, which he surrendered Avith a good grace. On their arrival at the mill they dismounted, and in order to give some appearance of truth to their story, they Avent into the house, leaving their prisoner outside, in the hope that he Avould make some attempt to escape. In an instant Waters threw his cloak upon a neighbouring oHa^o bush, and mounted his cocked hat on the top. Some empty flour sacks lay upon the ground, and a horse laden with well-filled flour sacks stood at the door. Sir John contrived to enter one of the empty sacks and throw himself across tlie horse, W^hen the soldiers came out of the house they fired their carbines at the supposed prisoner, and galloped off at the utmost speecl. A short time after the miller came out and mounted his steed ; the general contrived to rid himself of the encumbrance of the sack, and sat up, riding behind the man, who, suddenly turning round, saw a ghost, as he believed, for the flour that still remained in the sack had completely Avhitened his fellow-traveller and given him a most unearthly appearance. The frightened miller was " putrified," as Mrs M alaprop Avould say, at the sight, and a push from the white spectre brought the unfortunate man to the ground, Avhen away rode the gallant quartermaster with his sacks of flour, which, at length bursting, made a , ludicrous spectacle of man and horse. On reaching the English camp, Avhere Lord Wel- rf^ B 18 THE BATTLE OF THE NIVELLE, lington was anxiously deploring his fate, a sudden shout from the soldiers made his lordship turn round, when a figure, resembling the statue in "Don Juan," galloped up to him. The duke, affectionately shaking him by the hand, said — ' "Waters, you never yet deceived me ; and though you have come in a most questionable shape, I must congratulate you and myself" When this story was told at the clubs, one of those listeners, who always want something more, called out, " Well, and what did Waters say 1 " to which Alvanley replied — " Oh, Waters made a very flowery speech, like a well-bred man," The Battle op the Nivelle. — We expected to remain quietly in our winter quarters at St Jean de Luz ; but, to our surprise, early one morning, we were aroused from sleep by the beating of the drum calling us to arms. We were soon in marching order. It appeared that our outposts had been severely pushed by the French, and we were called upon to support our companions in arms. The whole of the British army, as well as the division of the Guards, had commenced a forward movement, Soult, seeing this, entirely changed his tactics, and from that time — ^Adz., the 9th of Decem ber — a series of engagements took place. The fight ing on the Sth was comparatively insignificant. When we were attacked on the 10th, the Guards held the mayor's house and the grounds and orchards attached : this was an important station. Large bodies of the enemy's infantry approached, iind, after desultory fighting, succeeded in penettat- THE BATTLE OF THE NIVELLE, 19 ing our position, when many hand-to-hand combats ensued. Towards the afternoon, officers and men having displayed great gallantry, we drove the enemy from the ground Avhich they courageously disputed with us, and from Avhich they eventually retreated to Bayonne, Every day there was constant fighting along the whole of our line, which extended from the sea to the LoAver Pyrenees — a distance probably not less than thirty miles. On the llth we only exchanged a few shots, but on the 12th Soult brought into action from fifteen to twenty thousand men, and attacked our left with a view of breaking our line. One of the most re markable incidents of the 12th Avas the fact of an English battahon being surrounded by a division of French in the neighbourhood of the mayor's house, which, as before observed, was one of our princi pal strategical positions. The French commanding- officer, believing that no attempt Avould be made to resist, galloped up to the officer of the British regi ment and demanded his sword. Upon this, without the least hesitation, the British officer shouted out, " This fellow wants us to surrender : charge, my boys ! and shew them what stuff we are made of,"^ Instantaneously a hearty cheer rang out, and our men rushed forward impetuously, drove off the enemy at the point of the bayonet, and soon disposed of the surrounding masses. In a few minutes, they had taken prisoners, or kUled, the whole of the infantry regiment opposed to them. On the 13th was fought the bloody battle of the Nivelle. Soult had determined to make a gigan tic effort to drive us back into Spain. During the night of the 12th, he rapidly concentrated about 20 THE BATTLE OF THE NIVELLE sixty thousand troops in front of Sir Rowland Hill's corps d'armee, consisting of 15,000 men, who occupied a very strong position, which Avas defended by some of the best artillery in the world. At day break Sir Rowland Hill was astonished to find him^ self threatened by masses of infantry advancing over a country luckily intersected by rivulets, hedges, and woods, which prevented the enemy from making a rapid advance ; whilst, at the same time, it was impossible on such ground to employ cav alry. Sir RoAvland, availing himself of an elevated position, hurriedly surveyed his ground, and con centrated his men at such points as he knew the nature of the field would induce the enemy to attack. The French, confident of. success from their superior numbers, came gallantly up, using the bayonet for the fir-st time in a premeditated attack. Our men stood their ground, and for hours acted purely on the defensive ; being sustained by the ad mirable practice of our artillery, Avhose movements no difficulty of ground could, on this occasion, im pede, so efficiently were the guns horsed, and so perfect Avas the training of the officers. It was not until mid-day that the enemy became discouraged at finding that they Avere unable to make any serious impression on our position ; they then re tired in good order. Sir RoAvland Hill not daring to follow them. Lord Wellington arrived just in time to witness the end of the battle ; aijd while going over the field with Sir RoAvland Hill, he remarked that he had never seen so many men hors de combat in so small a space, I raust not omit to mention a circumstance which THE PASSAGE OF THE ADOUR 21 occurred during this great fight, alike illustrative of cowardice and of courage. The colonel of an in fantry regiment, Avho shall be nameless, being hard pressed, sheAved a disposition not only to run aAvay himself, but to order his regiment to retire. In fact, a retrograde movement had commenced, Avhen my gallant and dear friend Lord Charles Churchill, aide- de-camp to Sir William Stewart, dashed forward, and, seizing the colours of the regiment, exclaimed, " If your colonel will not lead you, follow me, my boys!" The gallantry of this youth, then only eigh teen years of age, so animated the regiment, and restored their confidence, that they rallied and shared in the glory of the day. The Passage of the Adour. — Immediately after the battle of Nivelle, Lord Wellington determined to adA'-ance his whole line on to French ground. The right, under his own command, pushed on towards Orthes, whUst the left, under the command of Sir John Hope, proceeded in the direction of Bayonne, We (the Guards) were incorporated in the latter corps d'armee. Whilst these operations were going on, Soult was organising his discouraged army, in order to make, as early as possible, another convenient stand. The enemy fell back on Orthes, and there took up a strong position ; Soult was, nevertheless, destined to be beaten again at Orthes, It so happened that, for the first time since the battle of Vittoria, our cavalry were engaged : the nature of the ground at Nive and Nivelle was such as to prevent the possi bility of employing the mounted soldier, I must here record an incident which created a 22 THE PASSAGE OF THE ADOUR.^ considerable sensation' in military circles in connex ion Avith the battle of Orthes, The 10th Hussars, officered exclusively by men belonging to the noblest families of Great Britain, shewed a desire to take a more active part in the contest than their colonel (Quintin) thought prudent. They pressed hard to be permitted to charge the French cavalry on more than one occasion, but in vain. This so disgusted every officer in the regiment, that they eventually signed a round rohin, by which they agreed ncA'er again to speak to their colonel. When the regiment returned to England, a court of inquiry was held. which resulted, through the protection of the Prince Regent, in the colonel's exoneration from all blame, and at the same time the exchange of the rebellious officers into other regiments. It was at the battle of Orthes that the late Duke of Richmond was shot through the body, gallantly fighting with the Ttli Fusiliers, Lord Wellington had determined to cross the Adour, and Sir John Hope was intrusted with a corps d'armSe, which was the first to perform this difficult operation. It Avas necessary to pro Add e Sir John Hope with a number of small boats ; these were accordingly brought on the backs of mules from various Spanish ports, it being impossible, on account of the surf at the entrance of the Adour, as well as the command which the French held of that river, for Lord Wellington to avail himself of water car riage, Soult had given orders for the forces under General Thevenot to dispute the passage. The first operations of our corps were to throw over the 3d Guards, under the command of the gallant Colonel Stopford ; this Avas not accom- ARRIVAL OF THE GUARDS AT BORDEAUX. 23 plished Avithout much difficulty : but it Avas im peratively necessary, in order to protect the point Avhere the construction of the bridge of boats would terminate. Thej'- had not been long on the French side of the river before a considerable body of men Avere seen issuing from Bayonne, Sir John Hope ordered our artillery, aud rockets, then for the first time employed, to support our small band. Three or four regiments of French infantry Avere approach ing rapidly, when a av ell-directed fii'e of rockets fell amongst them. The consternation of the French men was such, Avhen these hissing, serpent-like pro jectiles descended, that a panic ensued, and they re treated upon Bayonne. The next day the bridge of boats was completed, and the whole army crossed, Bayonne was eventually invested after a contest, in which it was supposed our loss exceeded 500 or 600 men. Here we remained in camp about six weeks, expecting to besiege the citadel ; but this event never came off: we, however, met with a severe disaster and a reverse. The enemy made an unexpected sortie, and surrounded General Sir John Hope, when he and the whole of his staff were taken prisoners. The French killed and wounded about 1000 men on this occasion. The hardly-contested battle of Toulouse was fought about this period, but the Guards were not present to share the honours of a contest which closed the eventful Avar of the Spanish Peninsula, Arrival of the Guards at Bordeaux. — When we reached Bordeaux, which had now become a stronghold of the Royalists, we Avere received by the inhabitants with a welcome which resembled 24 ARRIVAL OF THE GUARDS AT BORDEAUX. what would be shewn to friends and deliverers, rather than to a foreign soldiery. Nothing could be more gratifying and more acceptable to our feelings, since it was the first time after our arrival on the Continent that we met with cordiality and an apparent desire to make our quarters as com fortable as possible. The Due d'Angoiileme had reached Bordeaux before us, and no doubt his presence had prepared the way for all the friends of he Bourbons, Everywhere some description of Avhite rag was doing duty for a Royalist banner, I lived at M. Devign^'s, a rich wine-merchant, Y^ho had a family of two sons and two beautiful daughters : the latter, as I thought, taken remark able care of by their maternal parent. Here I had evidently fallen upon my legs, for not onlj' Avas the family a most agreeable one, but their hospitality was of the most generous kind. Sir Stapylton Cot ton was ovir frequent Adsitor, together with M, Mar- tignac, afterwards Minister of Charles the Tenth, Here I had an opportunity of meeting some of the prettiest women of a city famed all over Europe for its female beauty. The young ladies were re markable for their taste in dress, which in those days consisted of a mantilla d VEspagnole, and silken shaAvls of varied hues, so admirably blended, that the e3'e Avas charmed with their richness of colour. The grisettes, who were as much admired by the soldiers as Avere the high dames by the offi- icers, were remarkable for a coquettish species of apron of a red dye, which was only to be obtained from the neighbourhood. Of course we were all very anxious to taste the Bordeaux wines ; but our palates, accustomed to MRS. MARY ANNE CLARKE, 20 the stronger vintages of Spain, I suspect were not in a condition to appreciate the more delicate and refined bouquets Avliich ought to characterise claret. A vin ordinaire, which uoav at a restaurateur's Avould cost three francs, Avas then furnished at the hotels for fifteen sous : a Larose, Lafitte, Marp-aux, such as Ave are now paying eight or ten francs a bottle for, did not cost a third. I must not, how ever, forget that greater attention and care is noAV employed in the preparation of French wines. The exportation to England of the light red Avines of France was not sufficiently profitable, as I learnt from my host, at that time to attract the cupidity of commerce. In the Guards, Bordeaux Avas more affectionately remembered in connexion with its women than its Avine, We left it with regret, and the more youth ful and imaginative amongst us said that we were wafted across the Channel by the gentle sighs of " the girls we left behind us," Mrs Mary Anne Clarke, — Our army, despite its defects, was nevertheless infinitely better ad ministered at home when I joined than it had been a few years before, owing principally to the inquiry that had taken place in the House of Commons, relative to the bribery and corruption Avhich had crept in, and AA^hich had been laid open by the con fessions of a female, who created no small sensation in those days, and who eventually terminated her extraordinary career, not very long since, in Paris, The squibs fired off by Mrs Mary Anne Clarke had a much greater influence, and produced more effect upon the English army, than all the artillery 20 MRS, MARY ANNE CLARKE. of the enemy directed against the Duke of York when commanding in Holland, This lady was re markable for her beauty and her fascinations ; and few came within the circle over which she presided who did not acknowledge her superior poAver, Her wit, which kept the House of Commons during her examination in a continued state of merriment, was piquant and saucy, . Her answers on that occasion have been so often brought before the public, that I need not repeat them ; but, in private life, her quick repartee, and her brilliant sallies, rendered her a lively, though not always an agreeable companion. As for prudence, she had none ; her dearest friend, if she had any, was just as likely to be made the object of her ridicule as the most obnoxious person of her acquaintance. Her narrative of her first introduction to the Duke of York has often been repeated ; but, as all her stories were considered apocryphal, it is difficult to arrive at a real history of her career. Certain, how ever, is it that, about the age of sixteen, she was residing at Blackheath— a sweet, pretty, lively girl — when, in her dailj^ walk across the heath, she was passed, on two or three occasions, by a handsome, well-dressed cavalier, who, finding that she recog nised his salute, dismounted ; pleased with her man ner and wit, he begged to be allowed to introduce a friend. Accordingly, on her consenting, a person to whom the cavalier appeared to pay every sort of deference was presented to her, and the acquaintance ripened into something more than friendship. Not the slightest idea had the young lady of the position in society of her lover, until she accompanied, him, on his invitation, to. the theatre, where she occupied MRS, MARY ANNE CLARKE, 27 a private box, Avhen she was surprised at the cere mony Avith Avhich she was treated, and at observinrf that every eye aud CA'ery lorgnette in the house wc.ve directed towards her in the course of the evening. She accepted this as a tribute to her beauty. Find ing that she could go again to the theatre Avhen she pleased, and occupy the same box, she availed her self of this opportunity with a female friend, and was not a little astonished at being addressed as her Royal Highness. She then discoA^ered that the in dividual into whose affections she had insinuated herself was the son of the King, the Duke of York, Avho had not long before united himself to a lady, for whom she had been mistaken, Mrs Mary Anne Clarke was soon reconciled to the thought of being the wife of a prince by the left hand, particularly as she found herself assiduously courted by persons of the highest rank, and more especially by military men, A large house in a fashionable street was taken for her, and an estab lishment on a magnificent scale gave her an op portunity of surrounding herself with persons of a sphere far beyond anything she could in her younger days haA'e dreamt of: her father having been iu an honourable trade, and her husband be ing only a captain in a marching regiment. The duke, delighted to see his fair friend so well re ceived, constantly honoured her dinner-table with his presence, and willingly gratified any wish that she expressed ; and he must have known (and for this he Avas afterwards highly censured) that her style of living was upon a scale of great expense, and that he himself contributed little towards it. The consequence was that the hospitable lady even- 28 MRS, CLARKE AND COLONEL WARDLE, tually became embarrassed, and knew not which way to turn to meet her outlay. It was suggested to her that she might obtain from the duke commis sions in the army, which she could easily dispose of at a good price. Individuals quickly came for- Avard, ready to purchase anything that came within her grasp, which she extended not only to the army, but, as it afterwards appeared, to the Church ; for there were reverend personages who availed them selves of her assistance, and thus obtained patron age, by which they advanced their worldly interests A^ery rapidly, Mrs Mary Anne Clarke and Col, Wardle. — Amongst those who paid great attention to Mrs Mary Anne Clarke was Colonel Wardle, at that time a remarkable member of the House of Com mons, and a bold leader of the Radical Opposition. He got intimately acquainted with her, and was so great a personal faA'ourite that it was believed he Avormed out all her secret history, of which he availed himself to obtain a fleeting popularity. Having obtained the names of some of the parties Avho had been fortunate enough, as they imagined, to secure the lady's favour, he lOudly demanded an inquiry in the House of Commons as to the manage ment of the army by the Commander-in-Chief, the Duke of York, The nation and the army were fond of his Royal Highness, and every attempt to screen him Avas made ; but in A'ain, The House undertook the task of investigating the conduct of the duke, and witnesses were produced, amongst whom was the fair lady herself, who by no means attempted to screen her imprudent admirer. Her responses to MRS, CLARKE AND COLONEL WARDLE, 29 the questions put to her were cleverly and archly given, and the Avhole mystery of her A'arious in trigues came to light, Tlie duke consequently re signed his place in the Horse-Guards, and at the same time repudiated the beautiful and dangerous cause of his humiliation. The lady, incensed at the desertion of her royal swain, announced her inten tion of publishing his love-letters, Avhich were likely to expose the Avhole of the royal family to ridicule, as they formed the frequent themes of his corre spondence. Sir Herbert Taylor was therefore com missioned to enter into a negotiation for the pur chase of the letters; this he effected at an enormous price, obtaining a written document at the same time by AA'hich Mrs Clarke Avas subjected to heavy penalties if she, by word or deed, implicated the honour of any of the branches of the royal family. A pension AA-as secured to her, on condition that she should quit England, and reside wherever she chose on the Continent. To all this she consented, and, in the first instance, went to Brussels, Avhere her pre vious history being scarcely known, she was well received ; and she married her daughters without any inquiry as to the fathers to whom she might ascribe them. Mrs Clarke afterAvards settled quietly and com fortably in Paris, receiving occasionally visits from members of the aristocracy Avho had known her Avhen mingling in a certain circle in London, The Marquis of Londonderry never failed to pay his re spects to her, entertaining a very high opinion of her talents. Her manners were exceedingly agree able, and to the latest day she retained pleasing traces of past beauty, :She Avas lively, sprightly, 30 MRS, CLARKE AND COLONEL WARDLE. and full of fun, and indulged' in innumerable anec dotes of the members of the royal family of Eng land — some of them much too scandalous to be repeated. She regarded the Duke of York as a big baby, not out of his leading-strings, and the Prince of Wales as an idle sensualist, with just enough of brains to be guided by any laughing, well-bred in dividual who would listen to stale jokes and impu dent ribaldry. Of Queen Charlotte she used to speak with the utmost disrespect, attributing to her a love of domination and a hatred of every one who Avould not boAv down before any idol that she chose to set up ; and as being envious of the Princess Caroline and her daughter the Princess Charlotte of W^ales, and jealous of their acquiring too much influence OA-er the Prince of Wales, In short, Mary Anne Clarke had been so intimately let into every secret of the life of the royal family that, had she not been tied down, her revelations would have as tonished the world, however willing people might have been to believe that they were tinged Avith scandal and exaggeration. The way in which Colonel Wardle first obtained information of the sale of commissions was singular enough. He was paying a clandestine visit to Mrs Clarke, when a carriage with the royal livery drove up to the door, and the gallant officer was com pelled to take refuge under the sofa ; but instead of the royal duke, there appeared one of his aide-de-^ camps, who entered into conversation in so myste rious a manner as to excite the attention of the gentleman under the sofa, and led him, to believe that the sale of a commission was authorised by the Commander-in-Chief; though it afterwards SOCIEiy IN LONDON IN 18U. 31 appeared that it was a private arrangement of the unwelcome visitor. At the Horse-Guards, it had often been suspected that there was a mystery connected Avith commissions that could not be fa thomed ; as it frequently happened that the list of promotions agreed on Avas surreptitiously increased by the addition of new names. This was the crafty handiAvork of the accompHshed dame ; the duke haAdng employed her as his amanuensis, and being accustomed to sign her autograph lists Avithout ex amination. Society in London in 1814. — In the year 1814, my battalion of the Guards was once more in its old quarters in Portman Street barracks, enjoying the fame of our Spanish campaign. Good society at the period to Avhich I refer was, to use a familiar ex pression, wonderfully " select," At the present time one can hardly conceive the importance which was attached to getting admission to Almack's, the seventh heaven of the fashionable world. Of the three hundred officers of the Foot Guards, not more than half a dozen were honoured with vouchers of admission to this exclusive temple of the heau monde ; the gates of Avhich were guarded by lady- patronesses, whose smiles or frowns consigned men and women to happiness or despair. These lady patronesses were the Ladies Castlereagh, Jersey, Cowper, and Sefton, Mrs Drummond Burrell, noAV Lady Willoughby, the Princess Esterhazy, and the Countess Lieven. The most populai: amongst these grandes dames was unquestionably Lady CoAvper, now Lady Palni- erston. Lady Jersey's bearing, on the contrary, 32 SOCIETY IN LONDON IN 1811 was that of a theatrical tragedy queen ; and whilst attempting the sublime, she frequently made herself simply ridiculous, being inconceivably rude, and in her manner often ill-bred. Lady Sefton was kind and amiable, Madame de Lieven haughty and ex clusive. Princess E,sterhazy was a hon enfant. Lady Castlereagh aud Mrs Burrell de tr^s grandes dames. Many diplomatic arts, much finesse, and a host of ' intrigues, were set in motion to get an invitation to Almack's, Very often persons Avhose rank and fortunes entitled them to the entree anywhere, were excluded by the cliqueism of the lady patronesses ; for the female government of Almack's Avas a pure despotism, and subject to all the caprices of despotic rule : it is needless to add that, like every other despotism, it Avas not- innocent of abuses. The fair ladies who ruled supreme over this little dancing and gossiping world, issued a solemn proclamation that no gentleman should appear at the assemblies without being dressed in knee-breeches, white cravat, and chapeau bras. On one occasion, the Duke of Wellington was about to ascend the staircase of the ball-room, dressed in black trousers, when the vigi lant Mr Willis, the guardian of the establishment, stepped forward and said, " Your Grace cannot be admitted in trousers," whereupon the Duke, who had a great respect for orders and regulations, quietly walked away. In 1814, the dances at Almack's were Scotch reels and the old English country-dance ; and the or chestra, being from Edinburgh, Avas conducted by the then celebrated Neil Goav. It was not until 1815 that Lady Jersey introduced from Paris the f^-voiuite quadrille,, Avhich has so Ipng remained SOCIETY IN LONDON IN 181L 33 popular, I recollect the persons who formed the very first quadrille that was ever danced at Almack's : they Avere Lady Jersey, Lady Harriett Butler, Lady- Susan Ryde, and Miss Montgomery ; the men being the Count St Aldegonde, Mr Montgomery, Mr Mon- tagaie, and Charles Standish. The " mazy waltz " was also brought to us about this time ; but there Avere comparatively fcAV who at first A-entured to whirl round the salons of Almack's ; in course of time Lord Palmerston might, however, have been seen describing an infinite number of circles' with Madame de Lieven, Baron de Neumann was fre quently seen perpetually turning with the Princess Esterhazy ; and, in course of time, the waltzing mania, having turned the heads of society generally, ¦descended to their feet, and the waltz Avas practised in the morning in certain noble mansions in London with unparalleled assiduity. The dandies of society were Beau Brummell, (of whom I shall have to say something on another occasion,) the Duke of Argyle, the Lords Worcester, Alvanley, and Foley, Henry Pierrepoint, John Mills, BradshaAV, Henry de Ros, Charles Standish, Edward Montagu, Hervey Aston, Dan Mackinnon, George Dawson Damer, Lloyd, (commonly known as Rufus Lloyd,) and others Avho have escaped my memory. They were great frequenters of White's Club, in St James's Street, where, in the famous bay window, they mustered in force, .Drinking and play were more universally indulged in then than at the present time, and many men still living must" remember the couple of bottles of .port at least which accompanied his dinner in those days. Indeed, female society amongst the upper c 34 ITALIAN OPERA,— CATALANL classes was most notoriously neglected ; except, per haps, by romantic foreigners, who were the heroes of many a fashionable adventure that fed the clubs with ever-acceptable scandal. How could it be otherwise, when husbands spent their days in the hunting-field, or were entirely occupied with politics, and always away from home during the day ; Avhilst tha dinner-party, commencing at seven or eight, frequently did not break up before one in the morn ing. There were then four, and even five bottle- men ; and the only thing that saved them was drinking very slowly, and out of very small glasses. The learned head of the law. Lord Eldon, and his brother, Lord Stowell, used to say that they had drunk more bad port than any two men in Eng land ; indeed, the former was rather apt to be over taken, and to speak occasionally somewhat thicker than natural, after long. and heavy potations. The late Lords Panmure, Dufferin, and Blayney, wonder ful to relate, were six-bottle men at this time ; and I really think that if the good society of 1815 could appear before their more moderate descendants in the state they Avere generally reduced to after din ner, the moderns would pronounce their ancestors fit for nothing but bed. The Italian Opera,^Cataxanl — The greatest .vocalist of whom I have a recollection, is Madame Catalani. In her youth, she was the finest singer in Europe, and she was much sought after by all the great people during her sejour in London, She Avas extremely handsome, and was considered a model as wife and mother. Catalani was very fond of money, and would never sing unless paid beforehand. She ITALIAN OPERA— CATALANI. 35 was invited, with her husband, to pass some time at Stowe, Avhere a numerous but select party had been invited ; and Madame Catalani, being asked to sing soon after dinner, AvUlingly complied. When the day of her departure came, her husband placed in the hands of the Marquis of Buckingham the follow ing little billet : — " For seventeen songs, seventeen hundred pounds," This large sum was paid at once, Avithout hesitation ; proving that Lord Buck ingham Avas a refined gentleman, in every sense of the word, Catalani's husband, M, de Valabrfeque, once fought a duel with a German baron who had insulted the prima donna ; the weapons used were sabres, and Valabreque cut half of the baron's nose clean off. Madame Catalani lived for many years, highly re spected, at a handsome vUla near Florence, Her two sons are now distinguished members of the Imperial court in Paris ; the eldest being Prefet du Palais, and the youngest colonel of a regiment of hussars. When George the Fourth was Regent, her Ma jesty's Theatre, as the Italian Opera in the Hay- market is stUl called, was conducted on a very dif ferent system from that which now prevails. Some years previous to the period to which I refer, no one could obtain a box or a ticket for the pit with out a voucher from one of the lady patronesses, who, in 1805, were the Duchesses of Marlborough, Devonshire, and Bedford, Lady Carlisle, and some others. In their day, after the singing and the ballet were over, the company used to retire into the concert-room, where a ball took place, accompanied bj refreshments and a supper. There all the rank 36 DINING IN ENGLAND FIFTY YEARS AGO, and fashion of England were assembled on a sorb of neutral ground. At a later period, the management of the Opera House fell into the hands of Mr Waters, when it became less difficult to obtain admittance ; but the strictest etiquette was still kept up as regarded the dress of the gentlemen, who Avere only admitted Avith knee-buckles, ruffles, aiid chapeau bras. If there happened to be a draAving-room, the ladies Avould appear in their court-dresses, as well as ithe gentlemen ; and on all occasions the audience of her Majesty's Theatre was stamped with aristocratic elegance. In the boxes of the first tier might have been. seen the daughters of the Duchess of -Argyle, four of England's beauties ; in the next box were the equally lovely Marchioness of Stafford and her daughter. Lady Elizabeth Gore, now the Duchess of Norfolk : not less remarkable were Lady Harrowby and her daughters. Lady Susan and Lady Mary Ryder, The peculiar type of female beauty which these ladies so attractively exemplified, is such as can be m^t with only iu the British Isles : the fiiU, round, soul-inspired eye of Italy, and the dark hair of the sunny south, often combined with that exqui sitely pearly complexion which seems. to be con comitant with humidity and fog. You could scarcely gaze upon the peculiar beauty to which I refer V^ithout being as much charmed with its kindly expression as with its physical loveliness. Dining and Cookery in England Fifty Years Ago, — England can boast of a Spenser, -Shakspearej Milton, and' many other illustrious .poets, clearly indicating that the.national character of Britons i^ DINING IN ENGLAND FIFTY YEARS AGO, 37 not deficient in imagination ; but Ave have not had one single masculine inventive genius of the kitchen. It is the probable result of our national antipathy to mysterious culinary compounds, that none of the bright minds of England have A^entured into the region of scientific cookery. Even in the best houses, Avhen I was a young man, the dinners were AvonderfuUy solid, hot, and stimulating. The menu of a grand dinner was thus composed : — Mulliga tawny and turtle soups Avere the first dishes placed before you ; a little lower, the eye met with the familiar salmon at one end of the table, and the turbot, surrounded by smelts, at the other. The first course Avas sure to be followed by a saddle of mutton or a piece of roast beef ; and then you could take your oath that fowls, tongue, and ham, Avould as assuredly succeed as darkness after day. Whilst these never-ending pieces de resistance were occupying the table, what Avere called French dishes were, for custom's sake, added to the solid abundance. The French, or side • dishes, consisted of very mild but A^ery abortive attempts at Conti nental cooking ; and I have always observed that they met Avith the neglect and contempt that they merited. The universally-adored and ever-popular boiled potato, produced at the very earliest period of the dinner, was eaten with everything, up to the moment when sweets appeared. Our vegetables, the. best in the world, were never honoured by an accompanying sauce, and generally came to the table cold, A prime difficulty to overcome was the placing on your fork, and finally in your mouth, some half-dozen different eatables which occupied your plate at the sarae time. For example, your 33 THE PRINCE REGENT. plate would contain, say, a slice of turkey, a piece of stuffing, a sausage, pickles, a slice of tongue, cauliflower, and potatoes. According to habit and custom, a judicious and careful selection from this little bazaar of good things was to be made, with an endeavour to place a portion of each in your mouth at the same moment. In fact, it appeared to me that we used to do all our compound cookery between our jaws. The dessert, — generally ordered at Messrs Grange's, or at Owen's, in Bond Street, — if for a dozen people, would cost at least as many pounds. The wines were chiefly port, sherry, and hock ; claret, and even Burgundy, being then designated " poor, thin, Avashy stuff," A perpetual thirst seemed to come over people, both men and women, as soon as they had tasted their soup ; as from that moment every body was taking wine with everybody else till the close of the dinner ; and such wine as produced that class of cordiality which frequently wanders into stupefaction. How all this sort of eating and drinking ended was obvious, from the prevalence of gout, and the necessity of every one making the pill box their constant bedroom companion. The Prince Regent, — When the eldest son of George the Third assumed the Regency, England was in a state of political transition. The couatiI- sions of the Continent were felt amongst us ; the very foundations of European society were shaking, and the social relations of men were rapidly chang ing. The Regent's natural leanings were towards the Tories ; therefore, as soon as he undertook the responsibility of power, he abruptly abandoned the THE PRINCE REGENT, 39 Whigs, and retained in office the admirers and par tisans of his father's policy. This resolution caused him to have innumerable and inveterate enemies, who never lost an opportunity of attacking his public acts and interfering with his domestic rela tions. The Regent Avas singularly imbued with petty royal pride. He Avould rather be amiable and familiar Avith his tailor than agreeable and friendly with the most illustrious of the aristocracy of Great Britain ; he would rather joke with a Brummell than admit to his confidence a Norfolk or a Somer set, The Regent was ahvays particularly well-bred in public, and shewed, if he chose, decidedly good manners ; but he very often preferred to address those whom he felt he could patronise. His Royal Highness was as much the victim of circumstances and the child of thoughtless imprudence as the most humble subject of the crown. His unfortu nate marriage with a Princess of Brunswick origi nated in his debts ; as he married that unhappy lady for one million sterling, William Pitt being the contractor ! The Princess of Wales married nothing but an association with the Crown of Eng land, If the Prince ever seriously loved any woman, it was Mrs Fitzherbert, with whom he had appeared at the altar. Public opinion in England, under the inspiration of the Whigs, raised a cry of indignation against the Prince, It was imagined, I presume, that a royal personage should be born without heart or feeling ; that he should have been able to live only for the good of the state and for the convenience of his creditors. The Princess of Wales was one of 40 PRINCESS .CHARLOTTE AT CARLTON HOUSE. the most unattractive and almost repulsive women for an elegant-minded man that could Avell have been found amongst German royalty. It is not my intention to recall the events of the Regency. It is well knoAvn that the Prince became eveutually so unpopular as to exclude himself as much as possible from public gaze. His intimate companions, after the trial of Queen Caroline, were Lords Conyngham and Fife, Sir Benjamin Bloorafield, Sir Williara Mac- mahon. Admiral Nagle, Sir Andrew Barnard, Lords Glenlyon, Hertford, and Lowther. These gentlemen generally dined with him ; the dinner being the artistic product of that famous gastronomic savant, Wattier, The Prince was A^ery fond of listening after dinner to the gossip of society. When he became George the Fourth, no change took place in these personnels at the banquet, excepting that with the fruits and flowers of the table was intro duced the beautiful Marchioness of Conyngham, Avhose brilliant wit, according to the estimation of his Majesty, surpassed that of any other of his friends, male or feraal'e. The Princess Charlotte of Wales at a Fete IN THE Year 1813, at Carlton House, — Carlton House, at the period to which I refer, was a centre for all the great politicians and wits who Avere the favourites of the Regent, The principal entrance of this palace in Pall MaU, with its screen of colurans, will be remembered by many. In the rear of the mansion was an extensive garden that reached frora Warwick Street to Marlborough House ; greensward, stately trees, (probably two hundred years old,) and beds of the choicest flowers, PRINCESS CHARLOTTE AT CARLTON HOUSE. 41 gave to the grounds a picturesque attraction per haps unequalled. It Avas here that the heir to the throne of England gave, in 1813, an open-air fete, in honour of the battle of Vittoria, About three o'clock p.M, the elite of London society, Avho had been honoured Avith an invitation, began to arrive, all in full dress ; the ladies particularly displaying their diamonds and pearls, as if they were going to a draAving-room, the men, of course, in full dress, Avearing knee-breeches and buckles. The reo-al circle was coraposed of the Queen, the Regent, the Princesses Sophia and Mary, the Princess Char lotte, the Dukes of York, Clarence, Cumberland, and Cambridge, This was the first day that her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte appeared in public. She was a young lady of more than ordinary personal attractions ; her features were regular, and her coraplexion fair, with the rich bloom of youthful beauty ; her eyes Avere blue and very expressive, and her hair was abundant, and of that peculiar light brown which merges into the golden : in fact, such hair as the Middle-Age Italian painters asso ciate Avith their conceptions of the Madonna. In figure her Royal Highness was somewhat over the ordinary height of women, but finely proportioned and well developed. Her manners were remarkable for a simplicity and good-nature which would have Avon admiration and iuAdted affection in the most -humble walks of life. She created universal admi ration, and I raay say a feeling of national pride, araongst all who attended the ball. The Prince Regent entered the gardens giving his arm to the Queen, the rest of the royal family 42 PRINCESS CHARLOTTE AT CARLTON HOUSE, foUoAvihg, Tents had been erected in various parts of the grounds, where the bands of the Guards were stationed. The weather was magnificent, a circumstance which contributed to shew off the admirable arrangements of Sir Benjamin Bloora field, to whom had been deputed the organisation of the fete, Avhich comraenced by dancing on the lawn. The Princess Charlotte honoured Avith her pres ence two dances. In the first she accepted the hand of the late Duke of Devonshire, and in the second that of the Earl of Aboyne, who had danced Avith Marie Antoinette, and who, as Lord Huntly, lived long enough to dance with Queen Victoria. The Princess entered so much into the spirit of the f^te as to ask for the then fashionable Scotch dances. The Prince was dressed in the Windsor uniform, and wore the garter and star. He made himself very amiable, and conversed much Avith the Ladies Hertford, Cholmondeley, and Montford. Al together, the fete was a memorable event, A year afterwards, the Duke of York said to his royal niece, " Tell rae, my dear, have you seen any one among the foreign princes whom you would like to have for a husband % " The Princess naively replied, " No one so much prepossesses rae as Prince Leopold of Coburg. I have heard rauch of his bravery in the field, ahd I raust say he is, per sonally agreeable to me, I have particularly heard of his famous cavalry charge at the battle of Leip- sic, where he took several thousand prisoners, for which he was rewarded with the Order of Maria Ther^se," In a few months afterwards she became the wife of the man whom she so rauch admired. BEAU BRUMMELL, 43 ¦and from A^•hom she was torn aAvay not long after by the cruel hand of death. It Avill be remembered that she died in childbirth, and her offspring expired at the same time. The accoucheur who attended her Avas so much affected by the calamity that he comraitted suicide sorae short tirae after- wiCrds, Beau Brumjiell. — Amongst the curious freaks of fortune there is none more remarkable in ray raeraory than the sudden appearance, in the highest and best society in London, of a young man whose antecedents warranted a much less conspicuous career : I refer to the famous Beau Brummell, We have innumerable instances of soldiers, laAvyers, and men of letters, elevating themselves frora the raost hurable stations, and becoming the companions of prince5 and lawgivers ; but there are comparatively few exaraples of men obtaining a similarly elevated position simply from their attractive personal ap pearance and fascinating manners. Brummell's father, who was a steward to one or two large estates, sent his son George to Eton, He was endowed with a handsome person, and distinguished himself at Eton as the best scholar, the best boat man, and the best cricketer ; and, more than all, he was supposed to possess the comprehensive ex cellences that are represented by the familiar term of " good fellow." He made raany friends amongst the scions of good families, by whora he was con sidered a sort of Crichton ; and his reputation reached a circle over which reigned the celebrated Duchess of Devonshire. At a grand ball giA-en by her Grace, George Bruraraell, then quite a youth, 44 BEAU BRUMMELL; appeared for the first time in such elevated society. He immediately became, a great favourite with the ladies, and was asked by all the dowagers to as many balls and soirees as he could attend. At last the Prince of Wales sent for Brummell, and was so much pleased with his manner and appearance, that he gave him a commission in his own regiment, the 10th Hussars, Unluckily, Brummell, soon after joining his regiment, was thrown from his horse at a grand review at Brigh ton, when he broke his classical Roman nose. This misfortune, however, did not affect the fame of the beau ; and although his nasal organ had undergone a slight transformation, it was forgiven by his ad mirers, since the rest of his person remained intact. When Ave are prepossessed by the attractions of a favourite, it is not a trifle that will dispel the illusion ; and Brummell continued to govern society, in conjunction with the Prince of Wales. He was remarkable for his dress, which was generally con ceived by hiraself; the execution of his sublime imagination being carried out by that superior genius, Mr Weston, tailor, of Old Bond Street. The Regent sympathised deeply with Brummell's labours to arrive at the most attractive and gentle manly mode of dressing the male form, at a period Avhen fashion had placed at the disposal of the tailor the most hideous material that could possibly tax his art. The coat may have a long tail or a short tail,, a high collar or a Ioav collar, but it will always be an ugly garment. The modern hat may be spread out at the top, or narrowed, whilst the brim raay be turned up or. turned down, made a little wider or a little more narrow ; still it is incouT BEAU BRUMMELL, 45 ceivably hideous. Pantaloons and Hessian boots were the least objectionable features of the costume which the imagination of a Bruraraell and the genius of a Royal Prince Avere called upon to modify or change. The hours of raeditative agony which each dedicated to the odious fashions of the day have left no monument save the coloured carica tures in Avhich these illustrious persons have ap peared. Brummell, at this time, besides being the com panion and friend of the Prince, was very intimate Avith the Dukes of Rutland, Dorset, and Argyle, Lords Sefton, Alvanley, and Plymouth, In the zenith of his popularity he might be seen at the bay Avindow of ^Vhite's Club, surrounded by the lions of the day, laying down the laAV, and occasionally indulging in those witty remarks for which he was famous. His house in Chapel Street corresponded with his personal " get up ; " the furniture Avas in excellent taste, and the library contained the best works of the best authors of every period and of every country. His canes, his snuff-boxes, his Sevres china, were exquisite ; his horses and car riage were conspicuous ' for their excellence ; and, in fact, the superior taste of a Brummell was dis coverable in everything that belonged to him. But the reign of the king of fashion, like all other reigns, was not destined to continue for ever, Bruraraell warmly espoused the cause of Mrs Fitzherbert, and this of course offended the Prince of Wales, ' I refer to the period when his Royal Highness had abandoned that beautiful tvoman for another favourite. 'A coldness "then ensued be* tween the Prince and his protSgS ; and finally, 46 BEAU BRUMMELL; the mirror of fashion Avas excluded from ' the royal presence, A curious accident brought Brumnlell again to the dinner-table of his royal patron ; he was asked one uight at White's to take a hand at whist, when he won from George Harley Drumraond £20,000. This circumstance having been related by the Duke of York to the Prince of Wales, the beau was again invited to Carlton House, At the comraenceraent of the dinner, raatters went off sraoothly ; but Brummell, in his joy at finding himself Avith his old friend, became excited, and drank too much wine. His Royal Highness — who Avanted to pay off Brum mell for an insult he had received at Lady Cholmon- deley's ball, when the beau, turning towards the Prince, said to Lady Worcester, " Who is your fat friend T'— had invited him to dinner merely out of a desire for revenge. The Prince therefore pretended to be affronted with Bruraraell's hilarity, and said to his brother, the Duke of York, who was present, "I think we had better order Mr Brummell's car riage before he gets drunk," Whereupon he rang the bell, and Brummell left the royal presence. This circumstance originated the story about the beau having told the Prince to ring the beU. I received these details frora the late General Sir Arthur Upton, who was present at the dinner. The latter days of Brummell were clouded with mortifications and penury. He retired to Calais, where he kept up a ludicrous imitation of his past habits. At last he got himself named consul at Caen ; but he afterwards lost the appointment, ahd eventually died insane, and in abject poverty, at Calais. EOMEO COATES. 47 Romeo Coaxes, — This singular raan, more than forty years ago, occupied a large portion of public attention ; his eccentricities were the theme of general wonder, and great Avas the curiosity to catch a glance at as strange a being as any that ever appeared in English society. This extraordinary individual was a native of one of the West India Islands, and was represented as a man of extraor dinary Avealth ; to Avhich, however, he had no claim. About the year 1808, there arrived at the York Hotel, at Bath, a person about the age of fifty, sorae- what gentleraanlike, but so different frora the usual men of the day that considerable attention was directed ta him. He was of a good figure ; but his face was sallow, seamed \^th wrinkles, and more expressive of cunning than of any other quality. His dress was remarkable : in the daytime he Avas covered at all seasons with enormous quantities of fur ; but the evening costume in which he went to the balls made a great impression, from its gaudy appearance ; for his buttons, as well as his knee- buckles, were of diamonds. There was of course great curiosity to know who this stranger was ; and this curiosity was heightened by an announcement that he proposed to appear at the theatre in the character of Romeo, There was something so unlike the irapassioned loA^er in his appearance — so much that indicated a raan with few intellectual gifts — that everybody was prepared for a failure. No one, however, anticipated the reality. On the night fixed for his appearance, the house was crowded to suffocation. The playbills had given out that "an amateur of fashion" would for that night only perform in the character of Romeo ; 48 ROMEO COATES, besides, it was generally whispered that the rehear sals gave indication of comedy rather than tragedy, and that his readings were of a perfectly novel character. The very first appearance of Romeo convulsed the house with laughter, Benvolio prepares the audience for the stealthy visit of the lover to the object of his. admiration ; and fully did the amateur give expression to one sense of the words uttered, for he was indeed the true representative of a thief stealing onwards in the night, "Avith Tarquin's ravishing strides," and disguising his face as if he were thoroughly ashamed of it. The darkness of the scene 'did not^ however, shew his real character so rauch as the raasquerade, when he came forward Avith a hideous grin, and made what he considered his bo.w — which consisted in thrusting his head forward, and bobbing it up and down several times, his body remaining perfectly upright and stiff, like a toy mandarin with movable head. His dress was outr6 in the extreme : whether Spanish, Italian, or English, no one could say ; it was like nothing ever worn. In a cloak of sky-blue silk, profusely spangled, red pantaloons, a vest of Avhite muslin, surmounted by an enormously thick cravat, and a wig cb la, Charles the Second, capped by an opera hat, he presented one of the most grotesque spectacles ever witnessed upon the stage. The whole of his garments were evidently, too tight for him ; and his moveraents appeared so incon gruous, that every tirae he raised his arm, or moved a limb, it was iuipossibleto refrain from laughter: but what chiefly convulsed the audience was th6 bursting of a seam in an inexpressible part of his THE RIVAL ROMEOS, OR ROMEO COATES AND MATHEWS EOMEO COATES, 49 dress, and the sudden extrusion through the red rent of a quantity of Avhite linen sufficient to make a Bourbon flag, Avhich Avas visible whenever he turned round. This was at first supposed to be a Avilful offence against comraon decency, and some disapprobation Avas evinced ; but the utter uncon sciousness of the odd creature was soon apparent, and then unrestrained mirth reigned throughout the boxes, pit, and gallery. The total want of flexibility of hmb, the awkwardness of his gait, and the idiotic manner in which he stood still, all produced a most ludicrous effect ; but when his guttural voice Avas heard, and his total misapprehension of cA'ery passage in the play, especially the vulgarity of his address to Juliet, Avere perceived, every one was satisfied that Shakspeare's Romeo was burlesqued on that occasion. The balcony scene was interrupted by shrieks of laughter, for in the raidst of one of Juliet's impas sioned exclamations, Romeo quietly took out his snuff-box and applied a pinch to his nose ; on this a wag in the gallery bawled out, " I say, Romeo, give us a pinch," Avhen the impassioned lover, in the most affected manner, walked to the side boxes and offered the contents of his box first to the gentlemen, and then, with great gallantry, to the ladies. This new interpretation of Shakspeare was hailed with loud bravos, Avhich the actor acknowledged with his usual grin and nod. Romeo then returned to the bal cony, and was seen to extend his arms ; but all passed in durab show, so incessant were the shouts of laugh ter. All that went on upon the stage was for a tirae quite inaudible, but previous to the soliloquy " I do' remember an apothecary," there was for a moment D 50 EOMEO COATES. a dead silence ; for in rushed the hero with a pre cipitate step until he reached the stage laraps, when he coramenced his speech in the lowest possible whisper, as if he had something to communicate to the pit, that ought not to be generally known ; and this tone was kept up throughout the whole of the soliloquy, so that not a sound could be heard. The amateur actor shewed many indications of aberration of mind, and seemed rather the object of pity than of amusement ; he, howcA^er, appeared de lighted with himself, and also Avith his audience, for at the conclusion he Avalked first to the left of the stage and bobbed his head in his usual grotesque manner at the side boxes ; then to the right, per forming the same feat ; after which, going to the centre of the stage with the usual bob, and placing his hand upon his left breast, he exclairaed, "Haven't I done it well 1 " To this inquiry the house, con vulsed as it was with shouts of laughter, responded in such a way as delighted the heart of Kean on one great occasion, when he said, " The pit rose at me," The whole audience started up as if with one accord, giving a. yell of derision, whilst pocket-handkerchiefs waved from all parts of the theatre. The dying scene was irresistibly comic, and I question if Liston, Munden, or Joey Knight, was ever greeted AAnth such merriment ; for Romeo dragged the unfortunate Juliet from the tomb, much in the same manner as a washerwoman thrusts into her cart the bag of foul linen. But how shall I describe his death 1 Out came a dirty silk handkerchief from his pocket, with which he carefully swept the ground; then his opera hat was carefully placed for a pillow, and down he laid EOMEO COATES, 51 himself. After various tossings about, he seemed reconciled to the position ; but the house A'ocifer- ously bawled out, "Die again, Romeo!" and, obe dient to the coraniaud, he rose up, and went through the cereraony again. Scarcely had he lain quietly down, when the call was again heard, and the Avell-pleased araateur was evidently pre pared to enact a third death ; but Juliet now rose up from her tomb, and gracefully put an end to this ludicrous scene by advancing to the front of the stage and aptly applying a quotation frora Shakspeare — " Dying is such, sweet sorro'w, That he 'wiU die again until to-morrow,'' Thus ended an extravaganza such as has seldom been witnessed ; for although Coates repeated the play at the Haymarket, amidst shouts of laughter from the playgoers, there never was so ludicrous a performance as that which took place at Bath on the first night of his appearance. Eventually he was driven from the stage with much contumely, in consequence of its having been discoA^ered that, under pretence of acting for a charitable purpose, he had obtained a sum of money for his perform ances. His love of notoriety led him to have a most singular shell-shaped carriage built, in which, drawn by two fine white horses, he was wont to parade in the park ; the harness, and every avail able part of the vehicle, (which was really hand some,) were blazoned over with his heraldic de- A'iee — a cock crowing ; and his appearance was heralded by the gamins of London shrieking out, " Cock-a-doodle-doo !" Coates eventually quitted . 52 HYDE PAEK AFTEE THE PENINSULAR WAR, London and settled at Boulogne, where a fair lady was induced to become the partner of his existence notwithstanding the ridicule of the whole world, Hyde Park after the Peninsular War, — That extensive district of park land, the entrances of which are in Piccadilly and Oxford Street, was far more rural in appearance in 1815 than at the present day. Under the trees cows and deer were grazing ; the paths were fewer, and none told of that perpetual tread of human feet which now destroys all idea of country charms and illusions. As you gazed from an eminence, no rows of, monotonous houses re minded you of the vicinity of a large city, and the atraosphere of Hyde Park was then ranch more like what God had made it than the hazy, gray, coal- darkened, half-twilight of the London of to-day. The corapany which then congregated daily about fiA'e was composed of dandies and women in the best so ciety ; the men mounted on such horses as England alone could then produce. The dandy's dress con sisted of a blue coat with brass buttons, leather breeches, and top boots ; and it was the fashion to wear a deep, stiff Avhite cravat, which prevented you from seeing your boots while standing. All the world watched Bruraraell to imitate him, and order their clothes pf the tradesman who dressed that sublime dandy. One day a youthful beau ap proached Brummell and said, "Permit me to ask you Avhere you get your blacking?" "Ah!" re plied Brummell, gazing complacently at his boots, " ray blacking positively ruins rae, I will tell you in confidence ; it is raade with the finest cham pagne ! " LONDON HOTELS IN 1814, 53 Many of the ladies used to drive into the park in a carriage called a vis-d-vis, which held only two persons. The hamraer-cloth, rich in heraldic designs, the powdered footraen in sraart liveries, and a coachman Avho assumed all the gaiety and appearance of a wigged archbishop, were indispens able. The equipages were generally much raore gorgeous than at a later period, when deraocracy invaded the parks, and introduced what raay be terraed a " Bruraraagem society," with shabby-gen teel carriages and servants. The carriage company consisted of the raost celebrated beauties, araongst whom were remarked the Duchesses of Rutland, Argyle, Gordon, and Bedford, Ladies Cowper, Foley, Heathcote, Louisa Larabton, Hertford, and Mount- joy, The raost conspicuous horseraen Avere the Prince Regent, (accorapanied by Sir Benjarain Bloorafield;) the Duke of York and his old friend, WarAvick Lake ; the Duke of Dorset, on his white horse ; the Marquis of Anglesea, with his lovely daughters ; Lord HarroAvby and the Ladies Ryder ; the Earl of Sefton and the Ladies Molyneux ; and the eccentric Earl of Morton, on his long-tailed gray. In those days, "pretty horse-breakers" would not have dared to shew themselves in Hyde Park ; nor did you see any of the lower or middle classes of London intruding theraselves in regions which, with a sort of tacit understanding, were then given up exclusively to persons of rank and fashion, London Hotels in 1814, — There was a class of men, of very high rank, — such as Lords Wellington, Nelson, and CoUingwood, Sir John Moore, and some few others, — who never frequented the clubs. The 54 LONDON HOTELS IN 1814, persons to whom I refer, and amongst whom were many members of the sporting world, used to con gregate at a few hotels. The Clarendon, Limmer's, Ibbetson's, Fladong's, Stephens's, and Grillon's, were the fashionable hotels. The Clarendon was then kept by a French cook, Jacquiers, who contrived to amass a large sum of money in the service of Louis the Eighteenth in England, and subsequently with Lord Darnley, This was the only public hotel Avhere you could get a genuine French dinner, and for which you seldom paid less than three or four pounds ; your bottle of charapagne or of claret, in the year 1814, costing you a guinea, Limmer's was an CA^ening resort for the sporting world ; in fact, it was a midnight TattersaU's, where you heard nothing but the language of the turf, and where raen with not very clean hands used to make up their books, Limraer's was the raost dirty hotel in London ; but in the glooray, comfortless coffee- room might be seen many merabers of the rich squirearchy who visited London during the sport ing season. This hotel Avas frequently so crowded, that a bed could not be obtained for any amount of raoney ; but you could always get a very good plain Enghsh dinner, an excellent bottle of port, and some famous gin-punch, Ibbetson's hotel was chiefly patronised by the clergy and young men from the universities. The charges there were more economical than at similar establishments, Fladong's, in Oxford Street, was chiefly frequented by naval men ; for in those days there Avas no club for sailors. Stephens's, in Bond Street, was a fashionable hotel, supported by officers of the army and men about town. If a stranger THE CLUBS OF LONDON IN 1814, 55 asked to dine there, he was stared at by the servants, and very solemnly assured that there was no table A-acant, It was not an uncommon thing to see thirty or forty saddle-horses and tilburies waiting outside this hotel, I recollect two of my old Welsh friends, Avho used each of thera to dispose of five bottles of wine daily, residing here in 1815, when the farailiar joints, boiled fish, and fried soles, were the only eatables you could order. The Clubs of London in 1814, — The members of the clubs in London, many years since, were persons, almost without exception, belonging ex clusively to the aristocratic world. " My trades men," as King Allen used to call the bankers and the merchants, had not then invaded White's, Boodle's, Brookes's, or Wattiers's, in Bolton Street, Piccadilly ; which, with the Guards', Arthur's, and Grahara's, were the only clubs at the West End of the town. White's was decidedly the raost difficult of entry : its list of raembers comprised nearly all the noble names of Great Britain, The politics of White's Club were then decidedly Tory, It was here that play was carried on to an extent Avhich made many ravages in large fortunes, the traces of AA'hich have not disappeared at the present day. General Scott, the father-in-law of George Canning and the Duke of Portland, was known to have won at White's £200,000 ; thanks to his notorious sobriety and knowledge of the game of whist. The general possessed a great ad vantage over his corapahions by avoiding those in dulgences at the table which used to muddle other men's brains. He confined himself to dining off 56 THE CLUBS OF LONDON IN 181L soraething like a boiled chicken, with toast-and- water ; by such a regimen he came to the whist- table with a clear head, and possessing as he did a remarkable memory, with great coolness and judg ment, he was able honestly to win the enormous sum of £200,000, At Brookes's, for nearly half a century, the play was of a more gambling character than at White's, Faro and macao were indulged in to an extent which enabled a raan to win or to lose a considerable fortune in one night. It was here that Charles James Fox, Selwyn, Lord Carlisle, Lord Robert Spencer, General Fitzpatrick, and other great Whigs, won and lost hundreds of thousands ; frequently reraaining at the table for many hours without rising. On one occasion. Lord Robert Spencer contrived to lose the last shilling of his considerable fortune, given hira by his brother, the Duke of Marlborough ; General Fitzpatrick being rauch in the same con dition, they agreed to raise a sum of raoney in order that they raight keep a faro bank. The raerabers of the club raade no objection, and ere long they carried out their design. As is generally the case, the bank was a winner, and Lord Robert bagged, as his share of the proceeds, £100,000, He retired, strange to say, from the foetid atmosphere of play, with the money in his pocket, and never again gambled, George Harley Drumraond, of the faraous banking-house. Charing Cross, only played once in his whole life at White's Club at whist, on AA-hich occasion he lost £20,000 to Brummell, This event caused him to retire from the banking-house of which he was a partner. THE CLUBS OF LONDON IN 1814. 67 Lord Carlisle Avas one of the most remarkable A-ictims amongst the players at Brookes's, and Charles Fox, his friend, was not raore fortunate, being sub sequently alAva}'s in pecuniary difficulties. Many a tirae, after a long night of hard play, the loser found hiraself at the Israelitish establishment of Howard and Gibbs, then the fashionable and patronised money-lenders. These gentlemen never failed to make hard terms with the borrower, although ample security was invariably demanded. The Guards' Club Avas established for the three regiments of Foot Guards, and was conducted upon a military system. Billiards and low whist Avere the only games indulged in. The dinner was, per haps, better than at most clubs, and considerably cheaper, I had the honour of being a member for several years, during which time I have nothing to remember but the most agreeable incidents, Ar thur's and Grahara's were less aristocratic than those I have raentioned ; it was at the latter, thirty years ago, that a raost painful circurastance took place, A nobleman of the highest position and in fluence in society was detected in cheating at, cards, and after a trial, which did not terminate in his favour, he died of a broken heart. Upon one occasion, some gentlemen of both "WTiite's and Brookes's had the honour to dine with the Prince Regent, and during the conversation, the prince inquired what sort of dinners they got at their clubs ; upon which Sir Thomas Stepney, one of the guests, observed that their dinners were always the same, "the eternal joints, or beef steaks, the boiled fowl with oyster sauce, and an apple-tart — this is Avhat we have, sir, at our club.s. 58 REMARKABLE CHARACTERS OF LONDON. and very monotonous fare it is," The prince, with out further remark, rang the bell for his cook, Wattier, and, in the presence of those who dined at the royal table, asked him whether he would take a house and organise a dinner club, W^attier assented, and named Madison, the prince's page, manager, and Labourie, the cook, from the royal kitchen. The club flourished only a few years, OAving to the high play that was carried on there. The Duke of York patronised it, and was a raember, I was a member in 1816, and frequently saw his Royal Highness there. The dinners were exquisite ; the best Parisian cooks could not beat Labourie. The favourite game played there was raacao. Upon one occasion. Jack Bouverie, brother of Lady Heytesbury, Avas losing large sums, and became very irritable : Raikes, with bad taste, laughed at Bouverie, and attempted to amuse us Avith sorae of his stale jokes ; upon which Bouverie threw his play-bowl, with the few counters it contained, at Raikes's head ; unfor tunately it struck him, and made the city dandy angry, but no serious results followed this open insult. Remarkable Characters of London about The Years 1814, 181.5, 1816. — It appears to be a law of natural history that every generation produces and throws out from the mob of society a few con spicuous men, that pass under the general appel lation of " men about toAvn," Michael Angelo Taylor was one of those remarkable individuals whom every one Avas glad to know ; and those who had not that privilege were ever talking about him, although he was considered by raany a bit of a bore. REMARKABLE CHARACTERS OF LONDON, 59 Michael Angelo was a raember of Parliament for many years, and generally sat in one of the most important coramittees of the House of Comraons ; for he Avas a raan of authority and an attractive speaker. In appearance he was one of that sort of persons whom you could not pass in the streets Avithout exclaiming, "Who can that hei" His face blushed AA'ith port Avine, the purple tints of which, by contrast, caused his Avhite hair to glitter with silvery brightness ; he wore leather breeches, top boots, blue coat, Avhite waistcoat, and an unstarched and exquisitely white neckcloth, the whole sur mounted by a very broad-brimmed beaA'er ; — such AA^as the dress of the universally-known Michael Angelo Taylor, If you met him in society, or at the clubs, he was never known to salute you but Avith the invariable phrase, " What news have you V Upon one occasion, riding through St James's Park, he met the great Minister, Mr Pitt, coming frora Wimbledon, where he resided. He asked Mr Pitt the usual question, upon AA-hich the Premier replied, " I have not yet seen the morning papers." " Oh, that won't do, Mr Pitt. I am sure that you know something, and will not tell me," Mr Pitt good-huraouredly replied : " Well, then, I am going to a Cabinet Council, and I Avill con sult my colleagues whether I can divulge state secrets to you cr not," Upon another occasion, on entering Boodle's, of which he was a member, he observed the celebrated Lord Westmoreland at table, where the noble lord was doing justice to a roast fowl, Taylor, of course, asked him the news of the day, and Lord Westmoreland coolly told the Httle. newsmonger to CO REMARKABLE CHARACTERS OF LONDON, go into the other room and leave him to finish his dinner, promising to join him after he had done. The noble lord kept his word, and the first thing he heard from Mr Taylor was, "Well, my lord, what news 1 what had you for dinner 1 " His lordship replied, " A Welsh leg of mutton." " What then— what then 1 " " Don't you think a leg of mutton enough for any man 1 " " Yes, my lord, but you did not eat it all ? " "Yes, Taylor, I did," " Well, I think you have placed the leg of mutton in sorae raysterious place, for I see no trace of it in your lean person," Lord Westmoreland was remarkable for an appe tite which made nothing of a respectable joint, or a couple of fowls, I know not Avhether Mr Poole, the author of Raul Pry, had Michael Angelo in his head when he wrote that well-known comedy ; but certainly he might have sat for a character whose intrusive and inquisitive habits were so notorious, that people on seeing him approach always prepared for a string of almost impertinent interrogations. Another remarkable man about town was Colonel Cooke, comraonly called Kangaroo Cooke, who was for many years the priA'ate aide-de-camp and secretary of H.R,H, the Duke of York, He was the brother of General Sir George Cooke and of the beautiful Countess of Cardigan, raother of the gal lant Lord Cardigan, and the Ladies Howe, Baring, and Lucan, During his career he had been em ployed in diplomatic negotiations with the French, previous to the peace of Paris. He was in the best REMARKABLE CHARACTERS OF LONDON, CI society, and ahvays attracted attention by his dandified mode of dress. Colonel Armstrong, another pet of the Duke of York's, was knoAvn, Avhen in the Coldstream Guards, to be a thorough hard-working soldier, and his non-commissioned officers were so perfect, that nearly aU the adjutants of the different regiments of the line were educated by him. He was a strict disciplinarian, but strongly opposed to corporal punishment, and used to boast that during the Avhole time that he commanded the regiment only two men had been flogged. Colonel Mackinnon, comraonly called " Dan," was an exceedingly well-made man, and remarkable for his physical powers in running, jumping, climbing, and such bodily exercises as demanded agility and muscular strength. He used to amuse his friends by creeping over the furniture of a roora like a monkey. It was very common for his companions to make bets with him : for example, that he would not be able to climb up the ceiling of a room, or scramble over a certain house-top, Grimaldi, the famous clown, used to say, " Colonel Mackinnon has only to put on the raotley costume, and he would totally eclipse me," Mackinnon was famous for practical jokes ; which were, however, always played in a gentlemanly way. Before landing at St Andero's, Avith some other officers who had been on leave in England, he agreed to personate the Duke of York, and make the Spaniards believe that his Royal Highness was araongst thera. On nearing the shore, a royal standard was hoisted at the masthead, and Mac kinnon disembarked, Avearing the star of his shako 02 REMARKABLE CHARACTERS OF LONDON. on his left breast, and accompanied by his friends, who agreed to play the part of aide-de-camp to royalty. The Spanish authorities were soon in formed of the arrival of the Royal Comraander-in- Chief of the British array ; so they received Mac kinnon with the usual pomp and circumstance ' attending such occasions. The mayor of the place, in honour of the illustrious arrival, gave a grand banquet, which terminated with the appearance of a huge bowl of punch. Whereupon Dan, thinking that the joke had gone far enough, suddenly dived his head into the porcelain vase, and threw his heels into the air. The surprise and indignation of the solemn Spaniards were such, that they made a, most intemperate report of the hoax that had been played on them to Lord Wellington ; Dan, hoAvever, was ultimately forgiven, after a severe reprimand. Another of his freaks very nearly brought him to a court-martial. Lord Wellington was curious about visiting a couA^ent near Lisbon, and the lady abbess made no difficulty ; Mackinnon, hearing this, contrived to get clandestinely within the sacred walls, and it Avas generally supposed that it was neither his first nor his second visit. At all events, when Lord Wellington arrived, Dan Mackinnon Avas to be seen among the nuns, dressed out in their sacred costume, with his head and whiskers shaved ; and as he possessed good features, he was declared to be one of the best-looking amongst those chaste dames. It was supposed that this adventure, which Avas known to Lord Byron, suggested a similar episode in Don Juan, the scene being laid in the, East. I might say more about Dan's adventures iu the convent, but have no wish to be scandalous. REMARKABLE CHARACTERS OF LONDON. G3 Another dandy of the day Avas Sir Lumley Skef- fington, Avho used to paint his face, so that he looked hke a French toy ; he dressed d la Robes pierre, and practised other follies, although the con summate old fop Avas a man of literary attainraents, and a great admirer and patron of the drama. Skeffington Avas remarkable for his politeness and courtly manners ; in fact, he was invited every where, and was very popular with the ladies. You always kneAv of his approach by an avant-courier of sweet smells ; and when he advanced a little nearer, you might suppose yourself in the atmosphere of a perfumer's shop. He is thus immortalised by Byron, in English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, allud ing to the play Avritten by Skeffington, The Sleep ing Beauty : — " In grim array though Lewis' spectres rise, StiU Skeffington aud Goose divide the prize : And sure great Skeffington must claim our praise, For skirtless coats and skeletons of plays Renown'd alike ; whose genius ne'er confines Her flight to garnish Greenwood's gay designs. Nor sleeps with ' sleeping beauties,' but anon In five facetious acts comes thundering on,. While poor John Bull, be'wilder'd with the scene, Stares, wond'ring what the devil it can mean ; But as some hands applaud — a venal few — Rather than sleep, John Bull applauds it too." Long Wellesley Pole was a fashionable who dis tinguished himself by giving suraptuous dinners at Wanstead, where he owned one of the finest man sions in England, He used to ask his friends to dine with him after the opera at midnight ; the drive from London being considered appHisant. Every luxury that money could command was G4 THE GUARDS MARCHING FROM ENGHIEN, placed before his guests at this unusual hour of the night. He married Miss Tylney Pole, an heiress of fifty thousand a year, yet died quite a beggar : in fact, he would have starved, had it not been for the charity of his cousin, the present Duke of Welling ton, who allowed him three hundred a year. The Guards Marching from Enghien on the 15th of June, — Two battalions of my regiment had started from Brussels ; the other, (the 2d,) to Avhich I belonged, remained in London, and I saw no pros pect of taking part in the great events which were about to take place on the Continent. Early in June I had the honour of dining with Colonel Dar ling, the deputy adjutant-general, and I was there introduced to Sir Thomas Picton, as a countryman and neighbour of his brother, Mr TurberviUe, of Evenney Abbey, in Glamorganshire, He was very gracious, and, on his two aides-de-camp — Major Tyler and my friend Chambers, of the Guards — lamenting that I Avas obliged to remain at home. Sir Thomas said, " Is the lad really anxious to go out?" Chambers answered that it was the height of ray ambition. Sir Thoraas inquired if all the appointments to his staff were fiUed up ; and then added, with a grim smile, " If Tyler is killed, Avhich is not at aU unlikely, I do not know why I should not take my young countryman : he may go over Avith me if he can get leave," I was overjoyed at this, and, after thanking the general a thousand times, made my bow and retired. I was much elated at the thoughts of being' Picton's aide-de-camp, though that somewhat re mote contingency depended upon my friends Tyler, THE GUARDS MARCHING FROM ENGHIEN, Cj or Chambers, or others, meeting AAith an untimely end ; but at eighteen on ne doute de ricn. So I set about thinking how I should manage to get my outfit, in order to appear at Brussels in a manner Avorthy of the aide-de-camp of the great general. As my funds were at a low ebb, I went to Cox and Greenwood's, those stanch friends of the hard-up soldier. Sailors may talk of the " little cherub that sits up aloft," but commend me for liberality, kind ness, and generosity, to my old friends in Craig's Court, I there obtained £200, Avhich I took AAith me to a garabling-house in St James's Square, where I managed, by some wonderful accident, to win £600 ; and, haAdng thus obtained the sinews of Avar, I made numerous purchases, amongst others two first-rate horses at TattersaU's for a high figure, Avhich were embarked for Ostend, along with my groom. I had not got leave ; but I thought I should get back, after the great battle that appeared imminent, in time to mount guard at St James's, On a Saturday I accompanied Chambers in his carriage to Ramsgate, where Sir Thomas Picton and Tyler had already arrived ; we remained there for the Sunday, and embarked on Monday in a vessel which had been hired for the general and suite. On the same day Ave arrived at Ostend, and put up at a hotel in the square ; Avhere I was surjDrised to hear the general, in excellent French, get up a flirtation with our very pretty waiting-maid. Sir Thomas Picton Avas a stern-looking, strong- buUt raan, about the middle height, and considered very like the Hetman Platoff, He generally wore a blue frock-coat, very tightly buttoned up to the throat ; a A^ery large black silk neckcloth, shewing E 66 QUATRE BRAS, little or no shirt-coUar ; dark trousers, boots, and a round hat : it was in this very dress that he was attired at Quatre Bras, as he had hurried off to the scene of action before his uniform arrived. After sleeping at Ostend, the general and Tyler went the next morning to Ghent, and on Thursday to Brus sels. I proceeded by boat to Ghent, and, without stopping, hired a carriage, and arrived in time to order rooms for Sir Thoraas at the Hotel d'Angle- terre. Rue de la Madeleine, at Brussels : our horses followed us. While we were at breakfast, Colonel Canning carae to inform the general that the Duke of WeU ington wished to see him immediately. Sir Thomas lost not a raoraent in obeying the order of his chief, lea^ng the breakfast-table and proceeding to the park, where Wellington was walking with Fitzroy Somerset and the Duke of Richmond, Picton's raanner Avas always more familiar than the duke liked in his lieutenants, and on this occasion he ap proached him in a careless sort of Avay, just as he raight have met an equal. The duke bowed coldly to hira, and said, "I am glad you are come, Sir Thomas ; the sooner you get on horseback the bet ter : no time is to be lost. You will take the com mand of the troops in advance. The Prince of Orange knows by this time that you will go to his assistance," Picton appeared not to like the duke's manner ; for when he bowed and left, he rauttered a few words, Avhich convinced those Avho were with him that he was not much pleased with his inter view. Quatre Bras. — I got upon the best of my two QUATRE BRAS, 67 horses, and followed Sir Thomas Picton and his staff to Quatre Bras at full speed. His division was ah-eady engaged in supporting the Prince of Orange, and had deployed itself in tAVO lines in front of the road to Sombref Avhen he arrived. Sir Thomas im- raediately took the coraraand. Shortly afterwards, Kempt's and Pack's brigades arrived by the Brussels road, and part of Alten's division by the NiA'elles road, Ney was very strong in cavalry, and our men were constantly formed into squares to receive thera. The famous Kellerraan, the hero of Marengo, tried a last charge, and was very nearly being taken or kUled, as his horse was shot under him when very near us, WeUington at last took the offensive ; — a charge was made against the French, which s'dc- ceeded, aud we remained masters of the field, I acted as a mere spectator, and got, on one occasion, just within twenty or thirty yards of some of the cuirassiers ; but my horse was too quick for them. On the 1 7th, Wellington retreated upon Waterloo, about eleven o'clock. The infantry were raasked by the cavalry in two lines, parallel to the Namur road. Our cavalry retired on the approach of the French cavahy, in three columns, on the Brussels road, A torrent of rain fell, upon the emperor's ordering the heaAy cavalry to charge us ; Avhile the fire of sixty or eighty pieces of cannon shewed that we had chosen our position at Waterloo, Charabers said to rae, " Now, Gronow, the loss has been very severe in the Guards, and I think you ought to go and see whether you are wanted ; for, as you have reaUy nothing to do with Picton, you had better join your regiraent, or you may get into a scrape." 68 GENERAL APPEARANCE OF WATERLOO. Taking his advice, I rode off to where the Guards were stationed. The officers — amongst whom I remember Colonel Thoraas and Brigade-Major Mil ler — expressed their astonishment and amazement on seeing me, and exclaimed, " What the deuce brought you here 1 Why are you not with your battalion in London 1 Get off your horse, and ex plain how you came here ! " Things Avere beginning to look a little awkward, when Gunthorpe, the adjutant, a great friend of mine, took ray- part and said, " As he is here, let us raake the most of him : there 's plenty of work for every one. Come, Gronow, you shall go with Cap tain Clements and a detachment to the village of Waterloo, to take charge of the French prisoners." " What the deuce shall I do with my horse 1" I asked. Upon which Captain Stopford, aide-de-camp to Sir Johu Byng, volunteered to buy him. Having thus once more become a foot soldier, I started ac cording to orders, and arrived at Waterloo, General Appearance of the Field of Water loo, — The day on which the battle of Waterloo was fought seemed to have been chosen by some provi dential accident for which human Avisdom is unable to account. On the morning of the 18th the sun shone most gloriously, and so clear was the atmos phere that we could see the long, imposing lines of the eneray most distinctly. Immediately in front of the division to which I belonged, and, I should imagine, about half a mUe from us, were posted cavalry and artiUery ; and to the right and left the French had already engaged us, attacking Hugue- raont and La Haye Sainte, We heard incessantly WATERLOO.— THE DUKE I IST OUR SQUARE. C9 t>- the measured boom of artUlery, accompanied by the incessant rattling echoes of musketry. The whole of the British infantry not actually engaged were at that time formed into squares ; and as you looked along our lines, it seemed as if Ave formed a continuous Avail of human beings, I recollect distinctly being able to see Bonaparte and his staff; and some of ray brother officers using the glass, exclaimed, " There he is on his white horse." 1 should not forget to state that when the enemy's artillery began to play on us, we had orders to lie down : Ave could hear the shot and shell whistling around us, killing and Avounding great numbers ; then again we were ordered on our knees to receive cavalry. The French artillery, which consisted of three hundred guns, — we did not muster more than half that number, — committed terrible havoc during the early part of the battle, whilst we were acting on the defensive. The Duke of Wellington in our Square, — About four P.M. the enemy's artillery in front of us ceased firing all of a sudden, and we saw large masses of caA-aby advance : not a man present who suxAdved could have forgotten in after life the awful grandeur of that charge. You perceived at a dis tance what appeared to be an overwhelming, long moving line, which, ever advancing, glittered like a stormy Avave of the sea Avhen it catches the sunlight. On carae the raounted host until they got near enough, whUst the very earth seeraed to vibrate be neath their thundering tramp. One raight suppose that nothing could have resisted the shock of this terrible moving mass. They Avere the famous cuir- 70 THE FRENCH CAVALRY CHARGING, assiers, alraost all old soldiers, who had distinguished themselves on most of the battle-fields of Europe, In an alraost incredibly short period they were with in twenty yards of us, shouting " 'Vive VE^mpeo^eur!" The word of coraraand, " Prepare to receive cavalry," had been given, every raan in the front ranks knelt, and a wall bristling with steel, held together by steady hands, presented itself to the infuriated cuir assiers, I should observe that just before this charge the duke entered by one of the angles of the square, accorapanied only by one aide-de-carap ; all the rest of his staff being either killed or Avounded, Our Com- raander-in-Chief, as far as I could judge, appeared perfectly coraposed ; but looked very thoughtful and pale. He was dressed in a gray great-coat with a cape, white cravat, leather pantaloons, Hessian boots, and a large cocked hat d la Russe. The charge of the French cavalry was gallantly executed ; but our well-directed fire brought raen and horses down, and ere long the utraost confusion arose in their ranks. The officers were exceedingly brave, and by their gestures and fearless bearing did all in their power to encourage their raen to form again and renew the attack. The duke sat unmoved, mounted on his favourite charger, I recollect his asking Colonel Stanhope what o'clock it was, upon Avhich Stanhope took out his watch, and said it was twenty minutes past four. The Duke replied, " The battle is mine ; and if the Prussians arrive soon, there will be an end of the war," The French Cavalry charging the Bruns- wiCKERS. — Soon after -the cuirassiers had retired, THE FRENCH CAVALRY CHARGING, 71 Ave observed to our right tho red hussars of the Garde Imperiale charging a square of Brunswick riflemen, Avho Avere about fifty yards from us. This charge was brilliantly executed, but the well-sus tained fire from the square baffled the enemy, Avho Avere obliged to retire after suffering a severe loss in killed and Avounded. The ground Avas completely coA^ered with those brave raen, who lay in various positions, mutiiated in cA^ery conceivable Avay. Among the fallen Ave perceived the gallant colonel of the hussars lying under his horse, Avhich had been killed. All of a sudden two riflemen of the Bruns- Avickers left their battalion, and after taking from their helpless victim his purse, watch, and other articles of value, they deliberately put the colonel's pistols to the poor felloAv's head, and blew out his brains, '" Shame ! shame !" was heard from our ranks, and a feeling of indignation ran through the whole line ; but the deed was done : this brave soldier lay a lifeless corpse in sight of his cruel foes, whose only excuse perhaps was that their sovereign, the Duke of Brunswick, had been killed two days before by the French, Again and again various cavalry regiments, heavy dragoons, lancers, hussars, carabineers of the Guard, endeavoured to break our walls of steel. The enemy's cavalry had to advance over ground which Avas so heSiVj that they could not reach us except at a trot ; they therefore came upon us in a much more com pact mass than they probably would have done if the ground had been raore favourable. When they got Avithin ten or fifteen yards they discharged their carbines, to the cry of " Vive I'Empereur!" but their fire produced Uttle effect, as is generally the 72 THE FRENCH CAVALRY CHARGING. case with the fire of cavalry. Our men had orders not to fire unless they could do so on a near mass ; the object being to econoraise our araraunition, and not to waste it on scattered soldiers. The result was, that when the cavalry had discharged their carbines, and were stiU far off, we occasionally stood face to face, looking at each other inactively, not knowing what the next raove raight be. The lancers were particularly troublesome, and ap proached us with the utmost daring. On one occasion I remember, the enemy's artillery having made a gap in the square, the lancers were evidently waiting to aA^ail themselves of it, to rush among us, when Colonel Staples, at once observing their intention, with the utmost promptness fiUed up the gap, and thus again completed our impregnable steel Avail ; but in this act he fell raortally wounded. The cavalry seeing this, made no attempt to carry out their original intentions, and observing that we had entirely regained our square, confined themselves to hoA-ering round us, I must not forget to mention that the lancers in particular never failed to despatch our wounded, whenever they had an opportunity of doing so. When we received cavalry, the order was to fire low ; so that on the first discharge of musketry, the ground was strewed Avith the fallen horses and their riders, which impeded the advance of those behind them, and broke the shock of the charge. It was pitiable to witness the agony of the poor horses, which really seemed conscious of the dangers that sur rounded them : we often saw a poor wounded animal raise its head, as if looking for its rider to afford him aid. There is nothing perhaps amongst the episodes THE LAST CHARGE AT WATERLOO, 73 of a great battle more striking than the debris of a caA-alry charge, Avhere men and horses are seen scattered and Avounded on the ground in every variety of painful attitude. Many a time the heart sickened at the moaning tones of agony Avhich came from man, and scarcely less intelligent horse, as they lay in fearful agony upon the field of battle. The Last Charge at Waterloo. — It was about five o'clock on that memorable day, that we suddenly received orders to retire behind an elevation in our rear. The enemy's artillery had come up en masse Avithin a hundred yards of us. By the time they began to discharge their guns, however, w-e Avero lying doAvn behind the rising ground, and protected by the ridge before referred to. The enemy's cavalry was in the rear of their artiUery, in order to be ready to protect it if attacked ; but no attempt was raade on our part to do so. After they had pounded away at us for about half an hour, they deployed, and up came the whole mass of the Imperial infantry of the Guard, led on by the emperor in person. We had now before us probably about 20,000 of the best soldiers in France, the heroes of raany meraorable victories ; we saw the bear-skin caps rising higher and higher, as they ascended the ridge of ground which separated us and advanced nearer and nearer to our lines. It was at this moment that the Duke of WeUing ton gaA-e his famous order for our bayonet charge, as he rode along the line : these are the precise words he made use of — " Guards, get up and charge! " We were instantly on our legs, and after so many hours of inaction and irritation at maintaining a purely 74 HUGUEMONT. defensive attitude, — all the time suffering the loss of comrades and friends, — ^the spirit which animated officers and men may easily be iraagined. After firing a volley as soon as the enemy were within shot, Ave rushed on with fixed bayonets, and that hearty hurrah peculiar to British soldiers. It appeared that our raen, deliberately and with calculation, singled out their victims ; for as they came upon the Imperial Guard our line broke, and the fighting became irregular. The impetuosity of our men seemed almost to paralyse their eneraies : I witnessed several of the Imperial Guard who were run through the body apparently without any resist ance on their parts, I observed a big Welshman of the name of Hughes, who was six feet seven inches in height, run through Avith his bayonet, and knock down with the butt-end of his firelock, I should think a dozen at least of his opponents. This terrible con test did not last more than ten minutes, for the Imperial Guard was soon in full retreat, leaving all their guns and raany prisoners in our hands. The famous General Cambronne was taken prisoner fighting hand to hand with the gallant Sir Colin Halkett, Avho Avas shortly after shot through the cheeks by a grape-shot, Cambronne's supposed answer of " La Garde ne se rend pas " was an invention of aftertimes, and he hiraself always denied having used such an expression, HuGUEMONT, — Early on the raorning after the battle of Waterloo, I visited Huguemont, in order to Avitness with my own eyes the traces of one of the most hotly-contested spots of the field of battle. I came first upon the orchard, and there discovered HUGUEMONT. 75 heaps of dead raen, in A'arious uniforms : those of the Guards in their usual red jackets, the German Legion in green, and the French dressed in blue, mingled together. The dead and the Avounded positively covered the Avhole area of the orchard ; not less than two thousand men had there fallen. The apple-trees presented a singular appearance ; shattered branches were seen hangine; about their mother-trunks in such profusion, that one might almost suppose the stiff-growing and stunted tree had been conA-erted into the Avillow : every tree Avas riddled and smashed in a manner which told that the showers of shot had been incessant. On this spot 1 lost some of my dearest and braA-est friends, and the country had to mourn many of its most heroic sons slain here, I raust observe that, according to the custora of commanding-officers, Avhose business it is after a great battle to report to the Commander-in-Chief, the muster-roll of fame always closes before the rank of captain. It has always appeared to me a great injustice that there should ever be any limit to the roll of gallantry of either officers or men. If a captain, lieutenant, an ensign, a sergeant, or a private, has distinguished himself for his bravery, his intelligence, or both, their deeds ought to be reported, in order that the sovereign and nation should know who really fight the great battles of England, Of the class of officers and men to which I have referred, there were raany even of superior rank who Avere oraitted to be raentioned in the public despatches. Thus, for example, to the indiAddual courage of Lord Saltoun and Charley Ellis, who comraanded 76 BYNG WITH HIS BRIGADE AT WATERLOO, the light corapanies, was raainly owing our success at Huguemont, The sarae may be said of Need ham, Percival, Erskine, Grant, Vyner, Buckley, Master, and young Algernon Greville, who at that time could not have been more than seventeen years old. Excepting Percival, whose jaws were torn away by a grape-shot, every one of these heroes miraculously escaped, I do not wish, in raaking these observations, to detract from the bravery and skill of officers whose names have already been mentioned in official despatches, but I think it only just that the ser vices of those I have particularised should not be forgotten by one of their companions in arms. Byng with his Brigade at Waterloo.— No individual officer more distinguished himself than did General Byng at the battle of Waterloo, In the early part of the day he Avas seen at Huguemont leading his men in the thick of the fight ; later he was Avith the battalion in square, where his presence animated to the utmost enthusiasm both officers and men. It is difficult to imagine how this courageous man passed through such innuraerable dangers from shot and shell without receiving a single wound, I raust also mention sorae other instances of courage and devotion in officers belonging to this brigade ; for instance, it was Colonel Macdonell, a man of colossal stature, with Hesketh, Bowes, Tom Sowerby, and Hugh Seymour, who comraanded frora the inside the chateau of Huguemont, When the French had taken possession of the orchard, they made a rush at the principal door of the chateau, which had been turned into a fortress. MacdoneU CHARGE OF THE HOUSEHOLD BRIGADE. 77 and the above officers placed theraseh-es, accom panied by some of their men, behind the portal, and prcA^ented the French frora entering. Amongst other officers of that brigade Avho were most con spicuous for bravery, I Avould record the names of JMontague, the " Adgorous Gooch," as he was caUed, and the av ell-known Jack Standen, The late Duke of Richmond. — One of the most intimate friends of the Duke of AVellington was the Earl of JMarch, afterwards Duke of Richmond, He was a genuine hard-working soldier, a raan of ex traordinary courage, and one Avho was ever found ready to gain laurels araidst the greatest dangers. When the 7th FusUiers crossed the Bidassoa, the late duke left the staff and joined the regiraent in which he had a corapany. At Orthes, in the thick of the fight, he received a shot which passed through his lungs ; from this severe wound he recovered sufficiently to be able to j-oin the Duke of WeUington, to whom he was exceedingly useful at the battle of Waterloo, On his return to England, he united him self to the most remarkably beautiful girl of the day, the eldest daughter of Lord Anglesea, and whose raother Avas the lovely Duchess of Argyle, The Unfortunate Charge of the Household Brigade, — When Lord Uxbridge gave orders to Sir W, Ponsonby and Lord EdAA^ard Somerset to charge the enemy, our cavalry advanced with the grea'test bravery, cut through CA-erything in their Avay, and gallantly attacked whole regiraents of infantry ; but eventually they came upon a masked battery of twenty guns, which carried death and 78 WELLINGTON ON THE ENGLISH CAVALRY. destruction through our ranks, and our poor feUows were obliged to give way. The French cavalry fol lowed on their retreat, Avhen, perhaps, the severest hand-to-hand cavalry fighting took place within the memory of man. The Duke of Wellington was per fectly furious that this arm had been engaged with out his orders, and lost not a moment in sending them to the rear, where they remained during the rest of the day. This disaster gave the French ca valry an opportunity of annoying and insulting us, and compelled the artUlerymen to seek shelter in our squares ; and if the French had been provided Avith tackle, or harness of any description, our guns would have been taken. It is, therefore, not to be Avondered at that the duke should have expressed himself in no raeasured terms about the cavalry movements referred to. I recollect that, when his grace Avas in our square, our soldiers were so morti fied at seeing the French deliberately walking their horses between our regiment and those regiments to our right and left, that they shouted, " Where are our cavalry 1 why don't they come and pitch into those French felloAvs 1 " The Duke op Wellington's Opinion of the English Cavalry, — A day or two after our arrival in Paris from Waterloo, Colonel Felton Hervey hav ing entered the dining-room Avith the despatches Avhich had come from London, the duke asked, " What news have you, Hervey 1 " upon which Colonel Hervey answered, " I observe by the Gazette that the Prince Regent has made himself Captain- General of the Life Guards and Blues, for their brilliant conduct at Waterloo." EXCELMANN ON THE BRITISH CAVALRY, 79 " Ah ! " replied the duke, " his Royal Highness is our sovereign, and can do what he pleases ; but this I will say, the cavalry of other European armies have won victories for their generals, but mine have invariably got me into scrapes. It is true that they have ahvays fought gallantly and bravely, and have generaUy got themselves out of their difficulties by sheer pluck." The justice of this observation has since been confirmed by the charge at Balaklava, where our cavalry undauntedly rushed into the face of death under the command of that intrepid officer Lord Cardigan, Marshal Excelmann's Opinion of the British Cavalry, — Experience has taught me that there is nothing more A-aluable than the opinions of intelli gent foreigners on the military and naval excel lences, and the faUures, of our united service. Mar shal Excelmann's opinion about the British cavalry struck me as remarkably instructive : he used to say, " Your horses are the finest in the world, and your men ride better than any continental soldiers ; Avith such materials, the English cavalry ought to have done more than has CA^er been accomplished by them on the field of battle. The great deficiency is in your officers, who have nothing to recomraend thera but their dash and sitting well in their sad dles ; indeed, as far as my experience goes, your English generals have never understood the use of cavalry : they have undoubtedly frequently mis- appHed that important arm of a grand army, and have never, up to the battle of Waterloo, employed the mounted soldier at the proper time and in the 80 PARIS WHEN THE ALLIES ENTERED, proper place. The British cavalry officer seems to be irapressed Avith the conviction that he can dash and ride over everything ; as if the art of war were precisely the sarae as that of fox-hunting. I need not remind you of the charge of your two heavy brigades at Waterloo : this charge was utterly use less, and all the world knows they came upon a masked battery, which obUged a retreat, and en tirely disconcerted Wellington's plans during the rest of the day," " Permit me," he added, " to point out a gross error as regards the dress of your cavalry, I have seen prisoners so tightly habited that it was impos sible for thera to use their sabres with facility," The French marshal concluded by observing — " I should Avish nothing better than such material as your raen and horses are raade of ; since with generals who wield cavalry, and officers who are thoroughly acquainted with that duty in the field, I do not hesitate to say I might gain a battle," Such was the opinion of a man of cool judgment, and one of the most experienced cavalry officers of the day. Appearance op Paris when the Allies En tered, — I propose giving my own impression of the aspect of Paris and its vicinity when our regiment entered that city on the 25th of June 1815, I re- coUect we marched from the plain of St Denis, my battalion being about five hundred strong, the sur vivors of the heroic fight of the 18th of June, We approached near enough to be within fire of the batteries of Montmartre, and bivouacked for three weeks in the Bois de Boulogne, That now beauti- PARIS WHEN THE ALLIES ENTERED. 81 ful garden was at the period to Avhich I refer a Avild pathless Avood, swampy, and entirely neglected. The Prussians, who were in bivouac near us, amused themselves by doing as much damage as they could, Avithout any useful aim or object : they cut down the finest trees, and set the wood on fire at several points. There were about three thousand of the Guards then encamped in the wood, and 1 should think about ten thousand Prussians, Our camp was not reraarkable for its courtesy towards thera ; in fact, our intercourse was confined to the raost or dinary demands of duty, as allies in an enemy's country, I believe I was one of the first of the British army who penetrated into the heart of Paris after Waterloo, I entered by the Porte Maillot, and passed the Arc de Triomphe, which was then buUd ing, In those days the Charaps Elysees only con tained a few scattered houses, and the roads and pathways were ankle-deep in raud. The only at tempt at hghting was the suspension of a few lamps on cords, which crossed the roads. Here I found the Scotch regiments bivouacking ; their peculiar uniform created a considerable sensation amongst the Parisian women, who did not hesitate to declare that the want of culottes was most indecent. I passed through the carap, and proceeded on towards the gardens of the Tuileries, This ancient palace of the kings of France presented, so far as the old front is concerned, the sarae aspect that it does at the present day ; but there were then no flower- gardens, although the sarae stately rows of trees which now ornaraent the grounds were then in their midsumraer verdure. 82 PARIS WHEN THE ALLIES ENTERED, Being in uniform, I created an immense amount of curiosity amongst the Parisians ; who, by the Avay, I fancied regarded rae with no loving looks. The first house I entered was a cafe in the garden of the Tuileries, called Legac's, I there met a man who told rae he was by descent an Englishman, though he had been born in Paris, and had really never quitted France, He approached me, saying, " Sir, I am delighted to see an English officer in Paris, and you are the first I have yet met with," He talked about the battle of Waterloo, and gave rae some useful directions concerning restaurants and cafes. Along the Boulevards were handsome houses, isolated, Avith gardens interspersed, and the roads Avere bordered on both sides with stately, spreading trees, some of them probably a hundred years old. There was but an imperfect pavement, the stepping-stones of which were adapted to dis play the Parisian female ankle and boot in all their calculated coquetry ; and the road shewed nothing but raother earth, in the raiddle of which a dirty gutter served to convey the impurities of the city to the river. The people in the streets appeared sulky and stupified : here and there I noticed groups of the higher classes evidently discussing the events of the moment. HoAV strange humanity would look in our day in the costume of the first empire. The ladies wore very scanty and short skirts, which left little or no waist ; their bonnets were of exaggerated propor tions, and protruded at least a foot from their faces; and they generaUy carried a fan. The men wore blue or black coats, which Avere baggily made, and reached down to their ankles ; their PARIS WHEN THE ALLIES ENTERED. S3 hats Avere enormously large, and spread out at the top, I dined the first day of my entrance into Paris at the Cafe Anglais, on the Boulevard des Italiens ; where I found, to ray surprise, several of my brother officers, I recoUect the charge for the dinner. was about one-third Avhat it would be at the present day. I had a potage, fish — anything but fresh, and, ac cording to Enghsh predilections and taste, of course I ordered a beef-steak and pommes de terre. The wine, I thought, was sour. The dinner cost about two francs. The theatres at this time, as may easily be ima gined, were not very weU attended. I recoUect going to the Fran9ais, where I saw for the first time the famous Talma, There was but a scanty audi ence ; in fact, aU the best places in the house were empty. It may easUy be imagined that, at a moment Uke this, most of those who had a stake in the country were pondering over the great and real drama that Avas then taking place. Napoleon had fled to Roch- fort ; the wreck of his array had retreated beyond the Loire ; no list of killed and wounded had ap peared ; and, strange to say, the official journal of Paris had made out that the great imperial army at Waterloo had gained a victory. There were, never theless, hundreds of people in Paris who knew to the contrary, and raany were already aware that they had lost relations and friends in the great battle, Louis XVIII, arrived, as well as I can remember, at the Tuileries on the 26th of July 1815, and his reception by the Parisians was a singular illustration of the versatUe character of the French nation, and 84 PARIS WHEN THE ALLIES ENTERED, the sudden and often inexplicable changes which take place in the feeling of the populace. When the Bourbon, in his old lumbering state-carriage, drove down the Boulevards, accorapanied by the Garde du Corps, the people in the streets and at the Avindows displayed the wildest joy, enthusiastically shouting "Vive le Roi!" amidst the Avaving of hats and hand kerchiefs, while white sheets or white rags were raade to do the duty of a Bourbon banner. The king was dressed in a blue coat with a red collar, and Avore also a white waistcoat, and a cocked hat with a white cockade in it. His portly and good-natured appear-, ance seemed to be appreciated by the crowd, whom he saluted with a benevolent smile. T should here mention that two great devotees of the Church sat opposite to the King on this memorable occasion. The cortige proceeded slowly doAvn the Rue de la Paix until the Tuileries was reached, where a com pany of the Guards, together with a certain number of the Garde Nationale of Paris, were stationed. It feU to ray lot to be on duty the day after, when the Duke of Wellington and Lord Castlereagh arrived to pay their respects to the restored mon arch, I happened to be in the Salle des Mar^chaux when these illustrious personages passed through that magnificent apartment. The respect paid to the Duke of Wellington on this occasion may be easily imagined, from the fact that a number of ladies of the highest rank, and of course partisans of the legitimate dynasty, formed an avenue through which the hero of Waterloo passed, exchanging with them courteous recognitions. The king was wait-. ing in the grand reception apartment to receive the great British captain. The interview, I have every MARSHAL NEY AND WELLINGTON, 85 reason to believe, Avas not confined to the courtesies of the palace. The position of the duke Avas a difficult one. In the first place, he had to curb the vindictive van dalism of Blucher and his army, who would have levelled the city of Paris to the ground, if they could have done so ; on the other hand, he had to practise a considerable amount of diplomacy to- Avards the newly-restored king. At the same time, the duke's powers from his own Government were necessarily limited. A spirit of vindictiveness per vaded the restored Court against Napoleon and his adherents, which the duke constantly endeavoured to modify, I must not forget to give an illustration of this state of feeling. It Avas actuaUy proposed by TaUeyrand, Fouche, and some important ecclesias tics of the ultra-royaUst party, to arrest and shoot the Emperor Napoleon, who Avas then at Rochfort, So anxious were they to commit this criminal, in human, and cowardly act, on an illustrious fallen enemy, who had made the arras of France glorious throughout Europe, that they suggested to the duke, who had the command of the old wooden- armed semaphores, to employ the telegraph to order what I should have designated by no other name than the assassination of the Cfesar of mo dern history. Marshal Ney and Wellington. — As an iUus- tration of the false impressions which are always disseminated concerning public raen, I must record the foUoAving fact : — The Duke of Wellington was accused of being implicated in the mUitary murder of Ney, Now, so far from this being the truth, I SC PALAIS ROYAL AFTER THE RESTORATION, know positively that the Duke of WeUington used every endeavour to prevent this national disgrace ; but the Church party, ever crafty and ever ready to profit by the weakness and passions of humanity, supported the king in his moments of excited re venge. It is a lamentable fact, but no less histori cal truth, that the Roraan Catholic Church has ever sought to make the graves of its enemies the foun dations of its power. The Duke of Wellington was never able to approach the king or use his influence to save Marshal Ney's life ; but everything he could do was done, in order to accomplish his benevolent views, I repeat, the influence of the ultramontane party triuraphed over the Christian humanity of the iUustrious duke. The Palais Royal after the Restoration, — France has often been called the centre of European fashion and gaiety ; and the Palais Royal, at the period to which I refer, might be called the very- heart of French dissipation. It was a theatre in which all the great actors of fashion of all nations met to play their parts : on this spot were congra- gated daily an immense multitude, for no other purpose than to watch the busy comedy of real life that animated the corridors, gardens, and saloons of that vast building, Avhich was founded by Richelieu and Mazarin, and modified by Philippe Egalite, Mingled together, and moving about the area of- this oblong-square block of buUdings, might be seen, about seven o'clock p.m., a crowd of English, Russian, Prussian, Austrian, and other officers of the Allied armies, together AA'ith countless foreigners from all parts of the Avorld, Here, too, might have PALAIS ROYAL AFTER THE RESTORATION. 87 been seen the present King of Prussia, with his father and brother, the late king, the Dukes of Nassau, Baden, and a host of continental princes, Avho entered familiarly into the amusements of ordi nary mortals, dining incog, at the most renowned restaurants, and flirting Avith painted female fraUty. A description of one of the houses of the Palais Royal Avill serA-e to portray the w-liole of this French pandemonium. On the ground-floor is a jeweller's shop, Avhere may be purchased diamonds, pearls, emeralds, and every description of female ornament, such as only can be possessed by those who have A^ery large sums of raoney at their coraraand. It was here that the successful garabler often deposited a portion of his winnings, and took away sorae costly article of jewellery, which he presented to sorae female friend who had never appeared with him at the altar of marriage. Beside this shop was a staircase, generaUy A^ery dirty, which communi cated with the floors above. Immediately over the shop was a cafe, at the counter of which presided a lady, generally of more than ordinary female attrac tions, who was very much decolletee, and wore an amount of jewellery which would haA-e raade the eye of an Israelite twinkle Avith delight. And there la crime de la creme of raale society used to meet, sip their ice and drink their cup of mocha, whilst holding long conversations, almost exclusively about ' gambhng and women. Men's thoughts, in this region, seemed to centre night and day upon the tapis veo% and at the en trance of this salon was that fatal chamber, over which might have been Avritten the famous fine of Dante, " Voi che entrate lasciate ogrd speranza." 88 PALAIS ROYAL AFTER THE RESTORATION, The reader wUl at once understand that I am re ferring to the gambling-house, the so-called "hell" of raodern society. In one room was the rouge-et- ofioir table, which, from the hour of twelve in the morning, was surrounded by men in every stage of the gambling malady. There was the young pigeon, who, on losing his first feather, had experienced an exciting sensation which, if followed by a bit of good luck, gave him a confidence that the parasites around him, in order to flatter his vanity, would call pluck. There were others in a more advanced stage of the fever, who had long since lost the greater part of their incomes, having mortgaged their property, and been in too frequent correspond ence with the Jews, These men had not got to the last stage of gambling despair, but they were so far advanced on the road to perdition that their days were clouded by perpetual anxiety, which re produced itself in their very dreams. The gambler who has thus far advanced in his career, lives in an inferno of his own creation : the charms of society, the beauty of woman, the attractions of the fine arts, and even the enjoyraent of a good dinner, are to hira rather a source of irritation than delight. The confirmed gamester is doing nothing less than perpetually digging a grave for his own happiness. The third and most numerous group of men round the tapis vert consisted of a class raost of whom had already spent their fortunes, exhausted their health, and lost their position in society, by the fatal and demoralising thirst for gold which stiU fascinated them. These becarae the hawks of the gambling table ; their quick and wild-glancing eyes were con stantly looking out for suitable game during the PALAIS ROYAL AFTER THE RESTORATION. 89 day, and leaA-ing it where it might be bagged at night. Both at the o^ouge-et-noir table and roidette the same sort of company might be met Avith, These gambling-houses were the very fountains of immo- raUty : they gathered together, under the most seduc tive circumstances, the swindler and the swindled. There were tables for all classes — the workman might play with 20 sous, or the gentleman with 10,000 francs. The law did not prevent any class from indulging in a A-ice that assisted to fill the coffers of the municipality of Paris, The floor over the garabling-house was occupied by unraarried Avoraen, I AviU not attempt to picture sorae of the saddest evils of the society of large cities ; but I raay add that these Phrynes lived in a style of splendour which can only be accounted for by the fact of their participating in the easily- earned gains of the garabling-house regirae. At that tirae the Palais Royal was externally the only well-lighted place in Paris, It was the rendez vous of all idlers, and especially of that particular class of ladies who lay out their attractions for the public at large. These were to be seen at all hours in full dress, their bare necks ornamented with raock diamonds and pearls ; and thus decked out in all their finery, they paraded up and down, casting their eyes significantly on every side. Some strange stories are told in connexion with the gambling-houses of the Palais Royal, An officer of the Grenadier Guards came to Paris on leave of absence, took apartments here, and never left it until his time of absence had expired. On his arrival in London, one of his friends inquired Avhether this was true, to which he repUed, " Of so THE ENGLISH IN PAEIS, course it is ; for I found everything I wanted there, both for body and mind," Such was the state of the Palais Royal under Louis XVIII, and Charles X, ; the Palais Royal of the present day is simply a tame and legitiraately coraraercial raart, corapared with that of olden times. Society has changed ; Government no longer patronises such nests of iraraorality ; and though vice may exist to the same extent, it assumes an other garb, and does not appear in the open streets, as at the period to which I have referred. The English in Paris after the Restoration OF THE Bourbons. — There is no more ordinary illu sion belonging to humanity than that which enables us to discover, in the fashions of the day, an elegance and coraeliness of dress which a few years after we ourselves regard as odious caricatures of costumes. Thousands of oddly-dressed English flocked to Paris imraediately after the war : I reraember that the burden of one of the popular songs of the day was, "All the world's in Paris;" and our countrymen and women having so long been excluded from French modes, had adopted fashions of their own quite as remarkable and eccentric as those of the Parisians, and much less graceful, British beauties Avere dressed in long, straight peUsses of various colours ; the body of the dress was never of the same colour as the skirt ; and the bonnet was of the bee-hive shape, and very small. The character istic of the dress of the gentleman was a coat of light blue, or snuff-colour, with brass buttons, the tail reaching nearly to the heels ; a gigantic bunch of seals dangled from his fob, whilst his pantaloons THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 91 Avere short and tight at the knees ; and a spacious Avaistcoat, with a A-olurainous muslin cravat and a friUed shirt, completed the toilette. The dress of the British militar}-, in its stiff and formal ugliness, Avas equally cumbrous and ludicrous. Lady Oxford — that beautiful and accomplished Avoman, Avho lived in her hotel in the Rue de Clichy — gaA-e charming soirees, at which Avere gathered the elite of Paris society. Among these were Ed ward JMontague, Charles Standish, Hervey Aston, Arthur Upton, " Kangaroo " Cook, Benjarain Con stant, Dupin, Casirair Perier, as well as the chief Orleanists, On one occasion, I recollect seeing there George Canning and the celebrated Madarae de Stael, Cornwall, the eldest son of the Bishop of Worcester, had, from some unaccountable cause, a misunderstanding with Madame de Stael, who ap peared A^ery excited, and said to Lady Oxford, in a loud voice, "Notre ami, M. Cornewal, est grosso, rosso, e furioso." It should be observed that the gentleman thus characterised was red-haired, and hasty in temper. All Avho heard this denunciation Avere astound.ed at the lady's manner, for she looked daggers at the object of her sarcasm. Fox, the secretary of the embassy, was an excel lent man, but odd, indolent, and careless in the ex trerae ; he Avas seldom seen in the daytime, unless it was either at the embassy in a state of negligee, or in bed. At night he used to go to the Salon des Etrangers ; and, if he possessed a napoleon, it was sure to be thrown away at hazard, or rouge et noir. On one occasion, however, fortune favoured him in a most extraordinary manner. The late Henry Baring having recommended hira to take the dice- 92 LES ANGLAISES POUR RIRE box. Fox replied, " I avUI do so for the last time, for all my money is thrown away upon this infernal table," Fox staked all he had in his pockets ; he threw in eleven times, breaking the bank, and taking home for his share 60,000 francs. After this, several days passed without any tidings being heard of him ; but upon my calling at the erabassy to get ray passport vise, I went into his room, and saw it fiUed with Cashmere shawls, sUk, ChantUly veUs, bonnets, gloves, shoes, and other articles of ladies' dress. On my asking the purpose of aU this mil linery. Fox replied, in a good-natured way, " Why, my dear Gronow, it was the only means to prevent those rascals at the salon winning back my money," Les Anglaises pour Rire, — An order had been given to the managers of all the theatres in Paris to admit a certain number of soldiers of the army of occupation, free of expense. It happened that a party of the Guards, composed of a sergeant and a few men, went to the Thfe^tre des Varietes on the Boulevards, where one of the pieces, entitled Les Anglaises pour Rire, was admirably acted by Po- tier and Brunet, In this piece Englishwomen were represented in a A'ery ridiculous light by those accomplished performers. This gave great offence to our soldiers, and the sergeant and his raen deter- rained to put a stop to the acting ; accordingly they stormed the stage, and laid violent hands upon the actors, eventually driving them off. The police Avere called in, and foolishly wanted to take our men to prison ; but they soon found to their cost that they had to deal with unmanageable opponents, for the whole posse of gendarmes were charged and LES ANGLAISES POUR RIRE. 93 driven out of the theatre, A crowd assembled on the Boulevards ; which, however, soon dispersed when it becarae known that English soldiers were determined, coAte qiCil coiUe, to prevent their coun trywomen from being ridiculed. It must be re membered that the only revenge Avhich the Parisians were able to take upon the conquerors was to ridi cule them ; and the English generally took it in good humour, and laughed at the extravagant drol lery of the burlesque. The English soldiers generally walked about Paris in parties of a dozen, and were quiet and weU-be- haved. They usually gathered every day on the Boulevard du Temple, where they were amused with the mountebanks and jugglers there assembled. This part of Paris is now completely changed : but at the time I speak of, it was an extensive open place, where eA-ery species of fun was carried on, as at fairs : there were gambling, rope-dancing, Avild beasts, and shows ; booths for the sale of cakes, ginger-bread, fruit, and lemonade, and every species of attraction that pleases the multitude ; but that space has now been built upon, and these sports have all migrated to the barriers. During the time our troops remained, we had only one man found dead in the streets : it was said that he had been murdered ; but of that there was con.. siderable doubt, for no signs of violence were found. This was strongly in contrast to what occurred to the Prussian soldiers. It was asserted, and indeed proved beyond a doubt, that numbers of them were assassinated ; and in sorae parts of France it was not unusual to find in the raorning, in deep wells or cellars, several bodies of soldiers of that nation 94 COACHING AND RACING IN 1815, who had been killed during the night ; so strong was the hatred borne against them by the French, Coaching and Racing in 1815, — Stage-coaches, or four-in-hand teams, were introduced in Paris in 1815 by Captain Bacon of the 10 th Hussars, (after wards a general in the Portuguese service,) Sir Charles Smith, Mr Roles, the brewer, and Arnold, of the 10 th, They used to meet opposite Demidoff's house, afterwards the Caf6 de Paris, and drive to the Boulevard Beaumarchais, and then back again, proceeding to the then unfinished Arc du Tri- oraphe. Crowds asserabled to witness the departure of the tearas ; and it created no little amusement to the Parisian to see perched upon Sir C. Smith's coach one or two smartly-dressed ladies, who ap peared quite at home. Sir Charles was likewise a great supporter of the turf, and Avas the first man Avho brought OA'er from England thorough-bred horses. By his indefatigable energy he contrived to get up very fair racing in the neighbourhood of Valenciennes ; his trainer at this time being Tom Burst, who is now, I believe, at Chantilly, All the officers of our several cavalry and infantry regiments contributed their eftbrts to make these races respec table in the eyes of foreigners : certainly they were superior to those in the Champs de Mars, though under the patronage of the king, I shall not forget the first time I Avitnessed racing in Paris, for it was more like a review of Gendarmes and National Guards ; the course was kept by a forest of bayonets, while mounted poUce gaUoped after the running horses, aud, in some instances, reached the goal before them. The Due d'An- PARISIAN CA'Fi.B IN 1815. 95 goul^me, Avith the Due de Guiche and the Prefet, were present ; but there was only one smaU stand, opposite to a sentry-box, Avhere the judge Avas placed. The running, to say the least of it, Avas ridiculous : horses and riders fell ; and ihe fite, as it Avas called, ended Avith a flourish of trumpets. Wonderful changes haA'e taken place since that time, and at the Bois de Boulogne and at Chantilly may be seen running equal to that of our best races in England ; and our neighbours produce horses, bred in France, that can carry off some of the great prizes in our OAvn " Isthmian games," Parisian Cafj^s in 1815, — At the present day, Paris raay be said to be a city of cafes and restaur- ants. The raUroads and steamboats enable the rich of every quarter of the globe to reach the most at tractive of all European cities with comparative economy and facUity. All foreigners arriving in Paris seem by instinct to rush to the restaurateurs', where strangers raay be counted by tens of thou sands. It is not surprising that we find in every important street these gaudy modern triclinia, which, I should observe, are as much frequented by a certain class of French people as by foreigners, for Paris is proverbially fond of dining out ; in fact, the social intercourse may be said to take place raore frequently in the public cafe than under the domestic roof. In 1815, I need scarcely remark that the condi tion of the roads in Europe, and the enorraous ex pense of traveUing, raade a A^isit to Paris a journey Avhich could only be indulged in by a very limited and Avealthy class of strangers. Hotels and cafes 96 PARISIAN CAFES IN 1815, were then neither so numerous nor so splendid as at the present day : Meur ice's Hotel was a very insig nificant establishment in the Rue de I'Echiquier ; and in the Rue de la Paix, at that time unfinished, there were but two or three hotels, which would not be considered even second-rate at the present time. The site of the Maison Dore, at the corner of the Rue Lafitte, was then occupied by a shabby build ing which went by the name of the H6tel d'Angle- terre, and was kept by the popular and once beauti ful Madame Dunan, The most celebrated restaur ant was that of Beauvilliers, in the Rue de Richelieu ; rairrors and a little gilding were the decorative char acteristics of this house, the cuisine was far superior to that of any restaurateur of our day, and the Avines were first-rate, Beauvilliers was also cele brated for his suprSme de volaille, and for his cdte- lette d la Soubise. The company consisted of the most distinguished men of Paris ; here were to be seen Chateaubriand, Bailly de Ferrette, the Dukes of Fitzjaraes, Rochefoucauld, and Grammont, and raany other reraarkable personages. It was the cus tom to go to the^ theatres after dinner, and then to the Salon des Etrangers, which was the Parisian Crockford's, , Another famous dining-house was the Rocher de Cancalle, in the Rue Mandar, kept by Borel, for merly one of the cooks of Napoleon, Here the cuisine was so refined that people were reported to have corae over from England expressly for the pur pose of enjoying it : indeed, Borel once shewed me a list of his customers, amongst whom I found the names of Robespierre, Charles James Fox, and the Duke of Bedford. In the Palais .Royal the stUl REVIEW OF THE ALLIED ARjNIIES IN PARIS. 97 weU-known Trois Fr^rcs Provenccaux Avas in vogue, tmd frequented rauch by the French officers ; being celebrated chiefly for its Avines and its Provence dishes. It Avas in the Palais Royal that General Lannes, Junot, Murat, and other distinguished offi cers, used to meet Bonaparte just before and during the Consulate ; but the cafes, Avith the exception of the MUle Colonnes, were not nearly so smartly fitted up as they now are. The Cai6 Ture, on the Boule vard du Temple, latterly visited chiefly by shop keepers, Avas rauch frequented : smoking was not aUowed, and then, as now, ladies were seen here ; more especially when the theatres had closed. Review op the Allied Armies by the Allied SoAnEREiGNS IN Paris, — In July 1815, it was agreed by the sovereigns of Russia, Austria, Prussia, Ba varia, Wurtemberg, and a host of petty Gerraan powers, — who had become wonderfully courageous and enthusiasticaUy devoted to England, a few hours after the battle of Waterloo, — that a grand review should be held on the plains of St Denis, where the whole of the allied forces were to meet. Accordingly, at an early hour on a fine sumraer morning, there were seen issuing from the various roads which centre on the plains of St Denis, numerous EngUsh, Russian, Prussian, and Austrian regiments of horse and foot, in heavy marching order, Avith their bands playing ; and finally a raass of men, numbering not less than two hundred thou sand, took up their positions on the wide-spreading field. About twelve o'clock, the Duke of Wellington, commander-in-chief of the allied army, approached. 98 THE RUSSIAN AND PRUSSIAN SOLDIERS. mounted on a favourite charger ; and, strange as it may appear, on his right was observed a lady in a plain riding-habit, who was no other than Lady Shelley, the wife of the late Sir John Shelley, Im mediately behind the duke foUowed the emperors of Austria and Russia ; the kings of Prussia, Hol land, Bavaria, and Wurtemberg ; several German princes, and general officers — ^the whole forming one of the most iUustrious and numerous staffs ever brought together. The Duke of WeUington, thus accompanied, took up his position, and began ma noeuvring, with a facUity and confidence which elicited the admiration of all the experienced sol diers around him. Being on duty near his grace, I had an opportunity of hearing Prince Schwartzen- berg say to the duke, " You are the only man who can so weU play at this game." The reAdew lasted two hours ; then the men marched home to their quarters, through a crowd of spectators which in cluded the whole population of Paris, The most mournful sUence was observed throughout on the part of the French, Conduct op the Russian and Prussian Soldiers DURING THE OCCUPATION OF PaRIS BY THE AlLIES, — It is only just to say that the moderation sheAvn by the British army, from the Duke of Wellington down to the private soldier, during our occupation of Paris, contrasted most favoui-ably with that of the Russian and Prussian mUitary. WhUst we simply did our duty, and were ciAdl to all those with whom we came in contact, the Russians and Prussians were frequently most insubordinate, and never lost an opportunity of insulting a people THE BRITISH EMBASSY IN PARIS. 99 whose armies had almost always defeated them on the day of battle, I remember one particular oc casion, when the Emperor of Russia reviewed his Garde Imperiale, that the Cossacks actually charged the crowd, and infficted wounds on the unarmed and inoffensive spectators, I recollect, too, a Prus sian regiment displaying its bravery in the Rue St Honore on a number of hackney coachmen ; indeed, scarcely a day passed without outrages being com mitted by the Russian and Prussian soldiers on the helpless population of the lower orders. The British Embassy in Paris. — England was represented at this period by Sir Charles Stuart, who was one of the most popular ambassadors Great Britain ever sent to Paris, He made him self acceptable to his countrymen, and paid as rauch attention to individual interests as to the more weighty duties of State, His attaches, as is always the case, took their tone and manner from their chief, and were not only ciAdl and agreeable to aU those who went to the Embassy, but knew every thing and everybody, and were of great use to the arabassador, keeping hira weU supplied with infor- raation on whatever event might be taking place. The British Embassy, in those days, was a centre where you Avere sure to find all the Enghsh gentle men in Paris coUected, from time to time. Dinners, baUs, and receptions were given with profusion throughout the season : in fact. Sir Charles spent the whole of his private income in these noble hospitalities, England was then represented, as it always should be in France, by an ambassador who worthUy expressed the inteUigence, the araiabUity, 100 ESCAPE OF LAVALETTE FROM PRISON. and the wealth of the great country to which he belonged. At the present day, the British Embassy emulates the solitude of a monastic establishment ; with the exception, however, of that hospitality and courtesy which the traveller and stranger were wont to experience even in monasteries. Escape of Lav alette from Prison, — Few cir cumstances created a greater sensation than the escape of Lavalette from the Conciergerie, after he had been destined by the French Government to give employment to the guUlotine. The means by which the prisoner avoided his fate and disappointed his eneraies produced a deep respect for the English character, and led the French to believe that, how ever much the Governments of France and England might be disposed to foster feelings either of friend ship or of enmity, individuals could entertain the deepest sense of regard for each other, and that a chivalrous feeling of honour would urge them on to the exercise of the noblest feelings of our nature. This incident likewise had a salutary influence in preventing acts of cruelty and of bloodshed, which were doubtless conteraplated by those in power, Lavalette had been, under the Imperial Govern ment, head of the Post-Office, which place he filled on the return of the Bourbons ; and when the Em peror Napoleon arrived from Elba, he continued still to be thus employed. Doubtless, on every occasion when opportunity; presented itself, he did all in his power to serve his great master ; to whom, indeed, he was aUied by domestic ties, having mar ried into the Beauharnais family. When Louis the Eighteenth returned to Paris after the battle of ESCAPE OF LAVALETTE FROM PRISON. 101 Waterloo, Lavalette and the unfortunate Marshal Ney were singled out as traitors to the Bourbon cause, and tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. The 26th of December was the day fixed for the execution of Lavalette, a man of high respecta bility and of great connexions, whose only fault Avas fidelity to his chief. On the evening of the 21st, Madame Lavalette, accompanied by her daughter and her governess, Madame Dutoit, a lady of seventy years of age, presented herself at the Concierge rie, to take a last fareweU of her husband. She arrived at the prison in a sedan chair. On this very day the Procureur-G^n^ral had given an order that no one should be admitted without an order signed by hiraself ; the greffier having, however, on previous occasions been accustomed to receive Madame Lavalette with the two ladies who now sought also to enter the ceU, did not object to it ; so these three ladies proposed to take coffee with Lavalette. The under-gaoler was sent to a neigh bouring cafe to obtain it, and during his absence Lavalette exchanged dresses with his wife. He managed to pass undetected out of the prison, ac companied by his daughter, and entered the chair in which Madarne Lavalette had arrived ; which, owing to the inanageraent of a faithful valet, had been placed so that no observation could be raade of the person entering it. The bearers found the chair soraewhat heavier than usual, but were igno rant of the change that had taken place, and were glad to find, after proceeding a short distance, that the individual within preferred walking horae, and giving up the sedan to the young lady. On the greffier entering the cell, he quickly discovered the 102 ESCAPE OF LAVALETTE FROM PRISON, ruse, and gave the alarm ; the under-gaoler was despatched to stop the chair, but he was too late, Lavalette had formed a friendship with a young Englishman of the name of Bruce, to whom he im mediately had recourse, throwing himself upon his generosity and kind feeling for protection, which was unhesitatingly afforded. But as Bruce could do nothing alone, he consulted two English friends who had shcAvn considerable sympathy for the fate of Marshal Ney — raen of liberal principles and un doubted honour, and both of thera officers in the British service : these were Captain Hutchinson and General Sir Robert Wilson, To the latter w-as committed the most difficult task, that of convey ing out of France the condemned prisoner ; and for this achievement few men were better fitted than Sir Robert WUson, a man of fertile imagination, ready courage, great assurance, and singular power of comraand over others ; who spoke French weU, and was intiraately acquainted with the military habits of different nations. Sir Robert Wilson's career was a singular one: he had commenced life an ardent enemy of Bona parte, and it was upon his evidence, collected in Egypt and published to the world, that the great general was for a long time believed to have poisoned his, wounded soldiers at Jaffa, Afterwards he was attached to the allied sovereigns in their great campaign ; but upon his arrival in Paris, his views of public affairs became suddenly changed ; he threw off the yoke of preconceived opinions, became an ardent liberal, and so continued to the last hours of his life. The cause of this sudden change of opinion has never been thoroughly ESCAPE OF LAVALETTE FROM PRISON, 103 knoAvn, but certain it is that on every occasion he supported liberal opinions Avith a firmness and courage that astonished those who had known him in his earlier days. Sir Robert undertook, in the midst of great dangers and difficulties, to convey Lavalette out of France, HaA-ing dressed hira in the uniforra of an English officer, and obtained a passport under a feigned name, he took him in a cabriolet past the barriers as far as Compiegne, where a carriage was waiting for them. They passed through sundry examinations at the fortified towns, but fortunately escaped ; the great difficulty being that, owing to Lavalette's having been the director of the posts, his countenance was famUiar to almost aU the post masters who supplied relays of horses. At Cambray three hours were lost, frora the gates being shut, and at Valenciennes they underwent three exarainations ; but eventuaUy they got out of France. The police, however, becarae acquainted with the fact that Lavalette had been concealed in the Rue de Helder for three days, at the apartments of Mr Bruce ; and this enabled them to trace aU the cir cumstances, shewing that it was at the apartments of Hutchinson that Lavalette had changed his dress, and that he had remained there the night before he quitted Paris, The consequence was that Sir Robert Wilson, Bruce, and Hutchinson were tried for aiding the escape of a prisoner ; and each of them was condemned to three raonths' iraprison- raent : the under-gaoler, who had evidently been well paid for services rendered, had two years' con finement allotted to him. I went to see Sir Robert WUson during his stay 104 DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815. in the Conciergerie — a punishraent not very diffi cult to bear, but which raarked him as a popular hero for his life. A circumstance, I remeraber, made a strong impression on me, proving that, how ever great raay be the courage of a man in trying circumstances, a trifling incident might severely shake his nerves. I was accompanied by a favourite dog of the Countess of Oxford's, which, being un aware of the high character of Sir Robert, or dis satisfied with his physiognomy, or for sorae good canine reason, took a sudden antipathy to him, and inserted his teeth into a somewhat fleshy part, but without doing much injury. The effect, however, on the general was extraordinary : he was most earnest to have the dog killed, I, being certain that the animal was in no way diseased, avoided obeying his wishes, and fear that I thus lost the good graces of the worthy man. Duelling in France in 1815, — When the resto ration of the Bourbons took place, a variety of circumstances combined to render duelling so com mon, that scarcely a day passed without one at least of these hostile meetings. Amongst the French themselves there were two parties always ready to distribute to each other "des coups d'ipie" — the officers of Napoleon's army and the Bourbonist officers of the Garde du Corps. Then, again, there was the irritating presence of the English, Russian, Prussian, and Austrian officers in the French capital. In the duels between these soldiers and the French, the latter were always the aggressors. At Tortoni's, on the Boulevards, there was a DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815, 105 room set apart for such quarrelsome gentlemen, where, after these meetings, they indulged in riotous champagne breakfasts. At this cafe might be seen all the most notorious duellists, amongst Avhom I can call to mind an Irishman iu the Garde du Corps, W , Avho Avas a most formidable fire-eater. The nuraber of duels in which he had been engaged would seem incredible in the present day : he is said to have killed nine of his opponents in one year ! The ]\Iarquis de H , descended of an ancient famUy in Brittany, also in the Garde du Corps, likewise fought innuraerable duels, killing many of his antagonists. I have heard that on entering the array he was not of a quarrelsorae disposition, but being laughed at and buUied into fighting by his brother officers, he, from the day of his first duel, like a wUd beast that had once sraelt blood, took a delight in such fatal scenes, and was ever ready to rush at and quarrel with any one. The raarquis has now, I am glad to say, subsided into a very quiet, placable, and peace-making old gentleman ; but at the time I speak of he was much blamed for his duel ¦with F , a young raan of nineteen. While dining at a cafe he exclaimed, "J'ai envie de tuer quelqu'un," and rushed out into the street and to the theatres, trying to pick a quarrel ; but he was so well known that no one was found wilUng to encounter him. At last, at the Th64tre de la Porte St Martin, he grossly insulted ^this young man, who was, I think, an ileve of the Ecole Polytechnique, and a duel took place, under the lamp-post near the theatre, with swords. He ran F through the body, and left him dead upon the ground. 106 DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815, The late Marshal St A and General J were great duellists at this time, with a whole host of others whose names I forget. The meetings generally took place in the Bois de Boulogne, and the favourite weapon of the French was the sraall sword or the sabre ; but foreigners, in fighting with the French, who were generaUy capital swordsraen, availed theraselves of the use of pistols. The ground for a duel with pistols was raarked out by indicating two spots, which were twenty-five paces apart ; the seconds then generally proceeded to toss up who should have the first shot ; the principals were then placed, and the word was given to fire. The Cafe Foy, in the Palais Royal, was the prin cipal place of rendezvous for the Prussian officers, and to this cafe the French officers on half-pay frequently proceeded in order to pick quarrels Avith their foreign invaders ; swords were quickly drawn, and frequently the most bloody frays took place : these originated not in any personal hatred, but from national jealousy on the part of the French, who could not bear the sight of foreign soldiers in their capital; which, when ruled by the great captain of the age, had, like Rome, influenced the rest of the world. On one occasion, our Guards, who were on duty at the Palais Royal, were called out to put an end to one of these encounters, in which fourteen Prussians and ten Frenchmen were either killed or wounded. The French took every opportunity of insulting the English ; and very frequently, I ara sorry to say, those insults were not met in a raanner to do honour to our character. Our countrymen in general were very pacific ; but the most awkward customer the French ever came across was my fellow-countryman DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815, 107 the late gallant Colonel Sir Charles S , of the Engineers, Avho Avas ready for thera with anything : SAVord, pistol, sabre, or fists — he was good at all; and though never seeking a quarrel, he would not put up Avith the shghtest insult. He kiUed three Frenchraen in Paris, in quarrels forced upon him, I reraember, in October 1815, being asked by a friend to dine at BeauAiUier's, in the Rue Richeheu, when Sir Charles S , who was weU known to us, occupied a table at the farther end of the room. About the middle of the dinner we heard a most extraordinary noise, and, on looldng up, perceived that it arose from S 's table ; he was engaged in beating the head of a smartly-dressed gentleman with one of the long French loaves so weU known to all who have visited France, On being asked the reason of such rough treatment, he said he would serve all Frenchmen in the same raanner if they insulted hira. The offence, it seeras, proceeded from the person who had just been chastised in so summary a manner, and who had stared and laughed at S in a rude way, for having ordered three bottles of wine to be placed upon his table. The upshot of this was a duel, which took place next day at a place near Vincennes, and in which S shot the unfortunate jester. When Sir Charles returned to Valenciennes, where he comraanded the Engineers, he found on his arrival a French officer waiting to avenge the death of his relation, who had only been shot ten days before at Vincennes, They accordingly fought before S had time even to shave himself or eat his breakfast; he haAong only just arrived in his coupi from Paris, The meeting took place in the fosse of the fortress, and the first shot frora S 's pistol kUled the 108 DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815, French officer, who had actually travelled in the diligence frora Paris for the purpose, as he boasted to his fellow-travellers, of killing an Englishman, I recollect dining, in 1816, at Hervey Aston' s, at the Hotel Breteuil in the Rue de Rivoli, opposite the Tuileries, where I met Seymour Bathurst and Captain E , of the ArtUlery, a very good-looking man. After dinner, Mrs Aston took us as far as Tortoni's, on her way to the Opera. On entering the cafe. Captain E did not touch his hat according to the custom of the country, but behaved himself d la John Bull, in a noisy and swaggering manner ; upon which General, then Colonel J , went up to E^ and knocked off his hat, telling him that he hoped he would in future behave himself better, Aston, Bathurst, and I, waited for some time, expecting to see E knock J down, or, at aU events, give him his card as a preliminary to a hostile meeting, on receiving such an insult ; but he did nothing. We were very rauch disgusted and annoyed at a countryraan's behaving in such a manner, and, after a meeting at my lodgings, we recommended Captain E , in the strongest terms, to call out Colonel J ; but he positively refused to do so, as he said it was against his principles. This specimen of the white feather astonished us beyond measure. Cap tain E shortly after received orders to start for India, where I believe he died of cholera — in aU probability of funk, I do not think that Colonel J would altogether have escaped with impunity, after such a gratuitous insult to an English officer ; but he retired into the country alraost imraediately after the incident at Tortoni's, and could not be found. DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815. 109 There Avere many men in our army who did not thus disgrace the British uniform when insulted by the French, I camiot omit the naraes of my old friends, Captain Burges, Mike Fitzgerald, Charles Hesse, and Thoroton ; each of Avhora, by their will ingness to resent gratuitous offences, shewed that insults to Englishmen were not to be committed with impunity. The last-named officer having been grossly insulted by Marshal V , Avithout giving him the slightest proA'ocation, knocked hira down : this circurastance caused a great sensation in Paris, and brought about a court of inquiry, which ended in the acquittal of Captain Thoroton, My friend, B , though he had only one leg, was a good swords man, and contriA'ed to kiU a man at Lyons who had jeered him about the loss of his limb at Waterloo, My old and esteemed friend, Mike Fitzgerald, son of Lord Edward and the celebrated Pamela, was always ready to measure swords Avith the Frenchraen ; and, after a brawl at SUves's, the then fashionable Bona- partist cafe at the corner of the Rue Lafitte and the Boulevard, in which two of our Scotch countrymen sheAved the white feather, he and another officer placed their OAvn cards over the chimney-piece in the principal room of the caf6, offering to fight any man, or number of men, for the frequent public insults offered to Britons. This chaUenge, however, was never answered, A curious duel took place at Beauvais during the occupation of France by our army, A Captain B , of one of our cavalry regiments quartered in that town, was insulted by a French officer, B demanded satisfaction, which was accepted ; but the Frenchman would not fight with pistols, B would not fight Avith swords ; so at last it was no DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815, agreed that they should fight on horseback, with lances. The duel took place in the neighbourhood of Beauvais, and a crowd asserabled to Avitness it. B received three wounds; but, by a lucky prod, eventuaUy kUled his man. B was a fine-look ing man and a good horseman. My late friend the Baron de P , so weU known in Parisian circles, was second to the Frenchman on this occasion, A friend of mine — certainly not of a quarrelsome turn, but considered by his friends, on the contrary, as rather a good-natured man — ^had three duels forced upon hira in the course of a few weeks. He had forraed a liaison with a person whose extraordinary beauty got hira into several scrapes and disputes. In January 1817, a few days after this acquaintance had been forraed, Jack B , weU known at that tirae in the best society in London, became madly in love with the fair lady, and attempted one night to enter her private box at Drury Lane, T^is my friend endeavoured to prevent : violent language was used, and a duel was the consequence. The parties raet a few mUes from London, in a field close to the Uxbridge Road, where B , who was a hot- tempered man, did his best to kill my friend ; but, after the exchange of two shots, without injury to either party, they were separated by their seconds, B was the son of Lady Bridget B , and the seconds were Payne, uncle to George Payne, and Colonel JoddreU of the Guards, Soon after this incident, my friend accompanied the lady to Paris, where they took up their residence at Meurice's, in the Rue de I'Echiquier, The day after their arrival, they went out to take a walk in the Palais Royal, and were foUowed by a half-pay DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1S15. IU officer of Napoleon's army, Colonel D , a notorious duellist, Avho observed to the people about him that he was going to buUy " un Anglais." This man Avas exceedingly rude in his remarks, uttered in a loud voice ; and after every sort of insult expressed in words, he had the impudence .to put his arm round the lady's waist. My friend indignantly asked the colonel Avhat he meant ; upon which the ruffian spat iu my friend's face : but he did not get off Avith im punity, for my friend, who had a crab stick in his hand, caught him a blow on the side of the head, which dropped him. The Frenchman jumped up, and rushed at the Englishman ; but they were separated by the bystanders. Cards were exchanged, and a meeting was arranged to take place the next morning in the neighbourhood of Passy, When my friend, accompanied by his second. Captain H , of the 18th, came upon the ground, he found the colonel boasting of the number of officers of all nations whom he had kUled, and saying, "I'll now complete my list by killing an Englishman : Mon petit, tu auras bientbt ton compte, car je tire fort bien." My friend quietly said, " Je ne tire pas mat non plus," and took his place. The colonel, who seems to have been a horrible ruffian, after a good deal raore swaggering and bravado, placed hiraself opposite, and, on the signal being given, the colonel's baU went through my friend's whiskers, whilst his baU pierced his adversary's heart, who feU dead without a groan. This duel made much noise in Paris, and the survivor left immediately for Chantilly, where he passed some time. On his return to Paris, the second of the man who had been killed. Commander P , insulted and 112 DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815, chaUenged my friend, A meeting was accordingly agreed upon, and pistols were again the weapons used. Again ray friend won the toss, and told his second. Captain H , that he would not kill his antagonist, though he richly deserved death for wishing to take the life of a person who had never offended hira ; but that he would giv6 him a lesson which he should remember. My friend accordingly shot his antagonist in the knee ; and I remember to have seen him limping about the streets of Paris twenty years after this event. When the result of this second duel was knoAvn, not less than eleven challenges frora Bonapartists were received by the gentleman in question ; but any further encounters were put a stop to by the Minister of War, or the Due d'Angoul^me, (I forget which,) who threatened to place the officers under arrest if they foUowed up this quarrel any further. When the news reached England, the Duke of York said that my friend could not have acted otherwise than he had done in the first duel, con sidering the gross provocation that he had re- cei\-ed ; but he thought it would have been better if the second duel had been avoided. In the deeds I have narrated, the English seem to have had the advantage ; but many others took place, in which Englishmen were killed • or wounded. These I have not mentioned, as their details do not recur to my memory ; but I do not reraember an oc casion on which Frenchmen were not the aggressors. At a soraewhat later period than this, the present Marquis of H , then Lord B , had a 'duel with the son of the Bonapartist General L , General S— — was Lord B 's second, and the DUELLING IN FRANCE IN 1815. 113 principals exchanged several shots Avithout injury to either party. This duel, like the preceding, originated with the Frenchman, Avho insulted the Englishman at the Theatre Frangais in the most unprovoked manner. At the present day our fiery neighbours are much more amenable to reason, aud if you are but civU, they wiU be civil to you ; duels consequently are of rare occurrence. Let us hope that the frequency of these hostile meetings and the animus displayed in thera originated in na tional wounded vanity rather ¦ than in personal animosity. In the autumn of 1821 I was living in Paris, when ray old friend H , adjutant of the 1st Foot Guards, called upon rae, and requested that I would be his second in a duel with Mr N , an officer in the sarae regiment. After hearing what he had to say, and thinking I could serve him, I consented. It was agreed by Captain F , R.N., of Pitfour, Mr N 's second, that the duel should take place in the Bois de Boulogne, After an ex change of shots. Captain F and myself put au end to the duel. The cause of the quarrel was, that Mr N , now Lord G , proclaimed in the presence of Captain H and other officers, that a lady, the Avife of a brother officer, was " what she ought not to be," When the report reached the ear of the colonel, H,R.H, the Duke of York re quested Mr N- to leave the regiment, or be brought to a court-martial ; and then the duel took place, happily Avithout bloodshed. Both of the officers, it need scarcely be stated, behaved with courage and coolness. H 114 PISTOL-SHOOTING, Pistol-Shooting, — From 1820 to 1830 pistbl- shooting was not much practised, OnC' evening, in the Salon des Etrangers, I was introduced to General F , a very great duellist, and the terror of every regiment he commanded ; he was con sidered by Napoleon to be one of his best cavalry officers, but was never in favour in consequence of his duelling propensities. It was currently reported that F , in a duel Avith a very young officer, lost his toss, and his antagonist fired first at him ; when, finding he had not been touched, he deliberately walked close up to the young raan, saying, " Je plains ta m^re," and shot him dead. But there were sorae doubts of the truth of this story ; and I trust, for the honour of humanity, that it was •either an invention or a gross exaggeration. The night I was introduced to F , I Avas told to be on my guard, as he was a dangerous char acter. He was very fond of practising with pistols, and I frequently raet hira at Lapage's, the only place at that tirae Avhere gentleraen used to shoot. F , in the year 1822, was very corpulent, and wore an enorraous cravat, in order, it was said, to hide two scars received in battle. He was a very sloAv shot. The famous Junot, Governor-General of, Paris, AA'hora I never saw, was considered to be the best shot in France, My quick shooting surprised the habitues at Lapage's, where we fired at a spot chalked on the figure of a Cossack painted on a board, and by word of command, " One — two — three." .F -, upon my firing and hitting the mark forty times in succession, at the. distance of twenty paces, shrieked out, " Tonnerre de Dieu, THE FAUBOURG ST GERMAIN. 115 c'est magnifique ! " '^^'"e Avere ever afterAvards on good terms, and supped frequently together at the Salon, At Manton's, on one occasion, 1 hit the Avafer nineteen times out of tAventy, When my battalion was on duty at the Tower in 1819, it happened to be very cold, and much snow covered the parade and trees. For our amuseraent it was proposed to shoot at the sparroAVS in the trees from Lady Jane Grey's room ; and it fell to my lot to bag elcA'en, Avithout missing one. This, I may say, Avithout flattering myself, was considered the best pistol-shooting ever heard of, Manton assigned as the reason why pistols had become the usual arms for duels, the story (noAv universally laughed at) of Sheridan and Captain Matthews fighting with swords on the ground, and raangling each other in a frightful Avay. These combatants narrated their own story ; but its enor mous exaggeration has been proved CA'en on Sheri dan's own evidence, and the blood that poured from him seems merely to have been the excellent claret of the previous night's debauch. The nuraber of wounds said to have been inflicted on each other was something so incredible that nothing but the solemn asseverations of the parties could have gained belief ; and in those days Sheridan had not obtained that reputation for rodomontade which he afterwards enjoyed by universal consent. The Faubourg St Germain, — The distinguish ing characteristics of the residents of the "noble faubourg," as it Avas called at the time I am speak ing of, were indomitable pride and exclusiveness, with a narrow-minded ignorance of all beyond the 116 THE FAUBOURG ST GERMAIN, circle in which its members moved. In our day of comparative equality and general civility, no one Avho has not arrived at my age, and lived in Paris, can form any idea of the insolence and hauteur of the higher classes of society in 1815, The glance of unutterable disdain which the painted old duchesse of the Restoration cast upon the youthful belles of the Chausse d'Antin, or the handsome widows of Napoleon's army of heroes, defies descrip tion. Although often responded to by a sarcastic sneer at the antediluvian charms of the imigree, yet the look of contempt and disgust often sank deep into the victim's heart, leaving there germs which shewed themselves fifteen years later in the revolution of 1830, In those days, this privileged class was surrounded by a charmed circle, which no one could by any raeans break through. Neither per sonal attractions nor mental qualifications formed a passport into that exclusive society ; to enter which the small nobility of the provinces, or the nouveau riche, sighed in vain. It would have been easier for a young Guardsman to make his way into the Convent des Oiseaux — the fashionable convent in Paris — than for any of these parvenus to force an entrance into the Faubourg St Germain, One of the first acts which followed the Restora tion of the Bourbons was the grant of a pecuniary indemnity, amounting to a milliard, or forty millions sterling, to be distributed araongst the imigrSs who had lost fortunes or estates by their devotion to the royal family. They had now, therefore, the means of receiving their friends, political partisans, and foreigners, Avith more than usual splendour ; and it must be admitted that THE FAUBOURG ST GERMAIN, 117 those Avho were thought worthy to be received Avere treated like spoiled children, and petted and flattered to their hearts' content. In their oavu houses they were really des grands seigoieurs, and quite incapable of treating their invited guests Avith the insolence that became the fashion among the JeAvish parvenus during the reign of the " citizen king." It is one thing to disdain those Avhom one does not think worthy of our acquaintance, and another to insult those Avhom one has thought pro per to iuAdte. In their oavu houses, the inhabitants of the Fau bourg St Germain were scrupulously polite : even if some enterprising foreigner should have got in surreptitiously, as long as he was under his host's roof he was treated with perfect courtesy ; though ignominiously "cut" for the remainder of his days. All this was not A'ery araiable ; but the inhabitants of the '• noble faubourg " Avere never distinguished for their araiabUity. Their best characteristics were the undaunted courage Avith which they met death upon the scaffold, and the cheerfulness and resignation with which they ate the bitter bread of exile. In general, les grandes dames were not remark able for their personal attractions, nor for the elegance of their appearance or dress. The galaxy of handsome Avomen that formed the court of the eraperor had perhaps sent beauty somewhat out of fashion ; for the hiffh-born ladies who took their place were what we should call doAvdy, and had nothing distinguished in their appearance. Many of those who belonged to the raost ancient families were alraost vulgar in outward forra and feature : 118 THE FAUBOURG ST GERMAIN. their raanner had a peculiar off-hand, easy style ; and they particularly excelled in setting down any unlucky person who had happened to offend them. Their main object, at this time, was to stand well at court ; therefore they adapted themselves to cir cumstances, and could be devout with the Dauphine and sceptical with Louis the Eighteenth, The men of the aristocracy of the Revolution were less clever and satirical than the women ; but on the other hand, they had far more of the distinguished bearing and gracefiU urbanity of the grands seigneurs of the olden time. The emigre nobles would have gazed Avith unutterable horror at their degenerate descendants of the present day ; but these young, booted, bearded, cigar-smoking scions of la jeune France would haA'e run round their courteous, though perhaps rather slow ances tors, in all the details of daily life. The principal houses of reception in those days were those of the Montmorencies, the Richelieus, Birons, Rohans, Gontauts, Talleyrands, Beauffre- monts, Luxemburgs, Crillons, Choiseuls, Chabots, Fitzjameses, Gramraonts, Latour de Pins, Coislins, and Maillies, Most of these raansions are noAV occupied as public offices, or Jesuitical schools, or by foreign Ministers, Those who are now sup posed to be the great people of the Faubourg St Germain are nothing raore than actors, who put on a motley dress, and appear before the public with a vieAV of attracting that attention to which they are not entitled ; it is, therefore, an error to suppose that the modern faubourg is anything like what it Avas during the days of the Bourbons, At the present moment the only practical aid the in- THE FAUBOURG ST GERMAIN, 119 habitants of this locality cnn accord to the legiti mist cause in Europe, is by getting up subscrip tions for the Papacy, and such exiled sovereigns as Francis II. ; and, in order to do so, they generally address themselves to married women aud widows : in fact, it is from the purses of susceptible females, many of Avhora are English, that donations are ob tained for legitimacy and Popery in distress. It is to be regretted that the most renowned and ancient faraUies of France have, in society and politics, yielded their places to another class. That refinement of perception, sensitiveness, and gentle bearing, which take three or four generations to produce, are no longer the characteristics of Pa risian societ)'. The gUded saloons of the Tuileries, and those magnificent hotels Avhose architects have not been geniuses of art, but the children of mararaon, are occupied by the Jcav speculator, the pohtical parasite, the clever schemer, and those Avho — Avhilst foUowing the fortune of the great man Avho rules France — are nothing better than harpies. Most of these pretended devotees of imperialism have, speaking figuratively, their portmanteaus per- petuaUy packed, ready for flight. The emperor's good nature, as regards his entourage, has never allowed him to get rid of men who, perhaps, ought not to be seen so near the imperial throne of France, The Aveakest feature of Napoleon III.'s Governraent is the conspicuous presence of a few persons in high places, whose cupidity is so extra vagant that, in order to gratify their lust of Avealth, they would not hesitate, indirectly at least, to risk a slur on the reputation of their raaster and bene factor, in order to gain their own ends. 120 THE, SALON DES lETRANGERS IN PARIS, The Salon des Etrangers in Paris, — When the allies entered Paris, after the battle of Water loo, the English gentlemen sought, instinctively, something like a club. Paris, however, possessed nothing of the sort ; but there was a rauch raore dangerous establishment than the London clubs — namely, a rendezvous for confirmed gamblers. The Salon des Etrangers was raost gorgeously furnished, proAdded with an excellent kitchen and wines, and Avas conducted by the celebrated Marquis de Livry, who received the guests and did the honours with a courtesy which raade hira famous throughout Europe, The Marquis presented au extraordinary likeness to the Prince Regent of England, who actually sent Lord Fife OA'er to Paris to ascertain this moraentous fact. The play which took place in these saloons Avas frequently of the raost reckless character ; large fortunes were often lost, the losers disappear ing, ncA'er more to be heard of. Amongst the English habituis were the Hon, George T , tho late Henry Baring, Lord Thanet, Tom Sowerby, Cuth bert, Mr Steer, Henry Broadwood, and Bob Arnold, The Hon, George T , who used to arrive from London with a A'ery considerable letter of credit expressly to try his luck at the Salon des Etrangers, at length contrived to lose his last shilling at rouge et noir. When he had lost every thing he possessed in the world, he got up and exclaimed, in an excited manner, "If I had Canova's Venus and Adonis from Alton Towers, ray uncle's country seat, it should be placed on the rouge, for black has won fourteen times running ! " The late Henry Baring was more fortunate at hazard than his countryman, but his love of gambling THE SALON DES STRANGERS IN PARIS. 121 was the cause of his being excluded frora the bankiu"' establishment. Colonel Sowerby, of the Guards, was one of the most inveterate players in Paris ; and, as is frequently the case Avith a fair player, a con siderable loser. But perhaps the most incurable gamester amongst the English Avas Ijord Thanet, whose income was not less than £50,000 a year, every farthing of Avhich he lost at play, Cuthbert dissipated the whole of his fortune in like manner. In fact, I do not remember any instance Avhere those Avho spent their time in this den did not lose aU they possessed. The Marquis de L had a charming villa at Roraainville, near Paris, to Avhich, on Sundays, he invited not only those gentlemen who were the most prodigal patrons of his salon, but a number of ladies, who were dancers and singers conspicuous at the opera ; forming a society of the strangest character, the male portion of which were bent on losing their money, whUst the ladies were determined to get rid of whatever virtue they might still have left. The dinners on these occasions were supplied by the chef of the Salon des Etrangers, and were such as few o^enommes of the kitchens of France could place upon the table. Amongst the constant guests was Lord Fife, the intimate friend of George IV,, with Mdlle, Noblet, a clanseuse, who gave so much satisfaction to the habituis of the pit at the opera, both in Paris and London, His lordship spent a fortune upon her ; his presents in jewels, furniture, articles of dress, and raoney, exceeded £40,000, In return for all this generosity, Lord Fife asked nothing more than the lady's flattery and professions of affection. 122 THE SALON DES ETRANGERS IN PARIS, Hall Standish was always to be seen in this circle; and his own hotel in the Rue le PeUetier was often hghted up, and fetes given to the theatrical and demi-monde. Standish died in Spain, leaAdng his gaUery of pictures to Louis Philippe, Amongst others who Adsited the Salon des Etrangers were Sir Francis Vincent, Gooch, Green, Ball Hughes, and many others whose naraes I no longer remember. Of foreigners, the raost conspic uous were Blucher, General Ornano, father-in-law of Count Walewski, Pactot, and Clari, as well as most of the ambassadors at the court of the Tuileries, As at Crockford's, a magnificent supper was provided every night for all who thought proper to avail themselves of it. The games principally played were rouge et noir and hazard ; the forraer producing an immense profit, for not only Avere the whole of the expenses of this costly establishment defrayed by the winnings of the bank, but a very large sum was paid annually to the municipality of Paris, I recollect a young Irishman, Mr Gough, losing a large fortune at this tapis vert. After returning home about two a,m., he sat down and Avrote a letter, giving reasons as to why he was about to commit suicide : these, it is needless to say, Avere simply his gambling reverses. A pistol shot through the brain terminated his existence. Sir Francis Vincent — a raan of old family and considerable fortune — was another victim of this French heU, who contrived to get rid of his magnifi cent property, and then disappeared from society. In calling up my recollections of the Salon des ^fitrangers, some forty years since, I see before me the noble forra and face of the Hungarian Count Hunyady, the chief gambler of the day, who created THE DUCHESSE DE BERRI AT MASS. 123 considerable sensation in his time. He became tres il la mode : his horses, carriage, and house were con sidered perfect, Avhile his good looks were the theme of universal admiration ; there were ladies' cloaks d la Iluniacle ; and the illustrious Borel, of the Rocher de Cancalle, named new dishes after the famous Hungarian, Hunj'ady's luck for a long time Avas prodigious : no bank could resist his attacks ; and at one time he must have been a winner of nearly two millions of francs. His manners Avere particularly calm and gentlemanlike ; he sat appar ently unmoved, Avith his right hand in the breast of his coat, whilst thousands depended upon the turning of a card or the hazard of a die. His A'alet, however, confided to some indiscreet friend that his nerves Avere not of such iron temper as he would have made people believe, and that the count bore in the morning the bloody marks of his nails, which he had pressed into his chest in the agony of an unsuccess ful turn of fortune. The streets of Paris were at that time not very safe ; consequently, the count Avas usually attended to his residence by two gen darmes, in order to prevent his being attacked by robbers, Hunyady was not wise enough (what gamblers are V) to leave Paris with his large winnings, but continued as usual to play day and night, A run of bad luck set 'in against him, and he lost not only the whole of the money he had w-on, but a very large portion of his own fortune. He actually borrowed £50 of the well-known Tommy Garth — who was himself generally more in the borrowing than the lending line — to take him back to Hungary. The Duchesse de Berri at Mass at the Cha- 124 LORD WESTMORELAND, PELLE Roy ALE. — I had the honour of being inAdted to an evening party at the Tuileries in the Avinter of 1816, and was in conversation with the Countess de I'Espinasse, when the duchesse did me the honour to ask me if I intended going to St Gerraain to hunt. I replied in the negative, not having received an invitation ; upon Avhich the duchesse graciously observed that if I would attend raass the foUowing raorning in the royal chapel, she would manage it. Accordingly, I presented myself there dressed in a black coat and trousers and white neckcloth ; but at the entrance, a huge Swiss told me I could not enter the chapel without knee-buckles. At that moment Alexandre Gerardin, the grand veneur, came to my assistance ; he spoke to the duchesse, who immediately gave instructions that Mr Gronow was to be admitted " sans culottes." The card for the hunt came ; but the time to get the uniform was so short, that I was prevented going to St Germain. At that time the fascinating Duchesse de Berri was the theme of admiration of every one. All who could obtain admission to the chapelle were charmed with the grace Avith which, on passing through the happy group who had been fortunate enough to gain the privilege, she cast her glance of recognition upon those who were honoured with her notice. When again I had the honour of being in the presence of the duchesse, she inquired whether the hunt amused me ; and upon ray telling her that I had been un able to go, in consequence of the Avant of the required uniform, the duchesse archly remarked "Ah! M. le Capitaine, parceque vous n'avez jamais de culottes." Lord Westmoreland, — When I Avas presented THE OPERA. 125 at the Court of Louis XVIII., Lord Westmoreland, the grandfather of the present lord, accompanied Sir Charles Stewart to the Tuileries, On our arrival iu the room where the king Avas, we forraed ourselves into a circle, Avhen the king good-naturedly inquired after Lady Westmoreland, from Avhom his lordship Avas divorced, and whether she was in Paris, Upon this, the noble lord looked sullen, and refused to reply to the question put by the king. His majesty, however, repeated it, when Lord Westmoreland hallooed out, in bad French, " Je ne sais pas, je ne sais pas, je ne sais p«s." Louis, rising, said, " Assez, milord ; assez, milord." On one occasion. Lord Westmoreland, who was Lord PriA-y Seal, being asked what office he held, replied, " Le Chancelier est le grand sceau (sot) ; moije suis le petit sceau dAngleterre." On another occasion, he wished to say " I would if I could, but I can't," and rendered it, "Je voudrais si je coudrais, maisje ne cannais pas.'' Alderman Wood, — Among the many English who then Adsited Paris was Alderman Wood, Avho had previously fUled the office of Lord Mayor of London, He ordered a hundred Adsiting cards, inscribing upon them, "Alderman '^ood., feu Lord Maire de Londres," which he had largely distributed araongst people of rank — having translated the word " late " into "feu," which I need hardly state means " dead," The Opera. — A few years after the restoration of the Bourbons, the opera was the grand resort of all the fashionable world, Sostennes de la Rochefou cauld was Minister of the Household, and his office 126 FANNY ELSSLER, placed him at the head of all the theatres, M. de la Rochefoucauld was exceedingly polite to our country- raen, and gave perraission to most of our dandies to go behind the scenes, where Bigottini, Fanny Bias, Vestris, Anatole, Paul, Albert, and the other principal dancers congregated. One of our countrymen hav ing been introduced by M, de la Rochefoucauld to Mademoiselle Bigottini, the beautiful and graceful dancer, in the course of conversation with this gentleman, asked him in what part of the theatre he was placed ; upon which he replied, "Mademoiselle, dans une loge rdtie," instead of " grilUe." The lady could not understand what he meant, until his introducer explained the mistake, observing, " Ces diables d' Anglais pensent toujours d leur rosbif." Fanny Elssler, — In 1822 I saw this beautiful person for the first time. She was originally one of the figurantes at the opera at Vienna, and was at this time about fourteen years of age, and of delicate and graceful proportions. Her hair was auburn, her eyes blue and large, and her face wore an expression of great tenderness. Some years after the Duke of Reichstadt, the son of the great Napoleon, was captivated with her beauty ; in a word, he became her acknoAvledged admirer, while her marvellous act ing and dancing drew around her all the great men of the German court. The year following she went to Naples, where a brother of the king's feU desper ately in love with her. Mademoiselle Elssler went soon afterwards to Paris, where her wit electrified all the fashionable Avorld, and her dancing and acting in the "Diable Boiteux" raade the fortune of the entrepreneur. In London her success was not so CHARLES X. AND LOUIS PHILIPPE. 127 striking ; but her cachucha will long be remembered as one of the most exquisite exhibitions of feraale grace and power eA'er seen at her Majesty's Theatre, aud in expressiveness, her pantorairaic powers were unriA-alled. Charles X, and Louis Philippe, — When the father of the present ex-king of Naples came to Paris during the reign of Charles X., Louis Phi lippe, then Duke of Orleans, living at the Palais Royal, gave a very grand fete to his royal cousin, I had the honour to be one of the party invited, and witnessed an extraordinary scene, Avhich I think worth relating. About eleven o'clock, when the rooms were crowded, Charles X. arrived, with a numerous suite. On entering, he let fall his pocket- handkerchief — it was then supposed by accident ; upon this, Louis Philippe fell upon one knee and presented the handkerchief to his sovereign, who smiled and said, " Merci, mon cher ; merci." This incident Avas commented upon for many days, and several persons said that the handkerchief was pur posely thrown down to see whether Louis Philippe AvoiUd pick it up. At that period, the Orleans family were en mauvais odeur at the Tuileries, and consequently this little incident created considerable gossip araong the courtly quidnuncs, I remeraber that when Lord WiUiam Bentinck was asked what he thought of the circumstance, he good-naturedly- answered, "The king most probably wanted to know how the Avind blew," It was known that a large number of persons ho.stile to the court were invited ; and among these 128 MARSHAL BLUCHER, were Casimir Perier, the Dupins, Lafitte, Benjamin Constant, and a host of others who a few years afterwards drove out the eldest branch that occu pied the throne to make way for Louis PhUippe, Lord Thanet, — The late Lord Thanet, cele brated for having been imprisoned in the Tower for his supposed predilection for republicanism, passed much of his tirae in Paris, particularly at the Salon des Etrangers, His lordship's infatuation for play was such, that when the garabling-tables were closed, he invited those who reraained to play at chicken-hazard and ecarte; the consequence was, that one night he left off a loser of £120,000, When told of his folly and the probability of his haAdng been cheated, he exclairaed, "Then I con sider rayself lucky in not having lost twice that sura ! " Lord Granville, the British Ambassador. — Soon after Lord GranvUle's appointraent, a strange occurrence took place at one of the public gambUng- houses, A colonel, on half-pay, in the British service, having lost every farthing that he pos sessed, determined to destroy himself, together with all those who were instrumental in his ruin. Ac cordingly, he placed a canister full of fulminating powder under the table, and set it on fire : it blew up, but fortunately no one was hurt. The police arrested the colonel, and placed him in prison ; he was, hoAvever, through the huraane interposition of our arabassador, sent out of France as a madman. Marshal Blucher, — Marshal Blucher^ though a MARSHAL BLUCHER, 129 very fine felloAv, Avas a very rough diamond, with the raanners of a common soldier. On his arrival in Paris, he went every day to the salon, and played the highest stakes at rouge et noir. The salo7i, during the time that the marshal remained in Paris, was crowded by persons who came to see him play. His manner of playing was anything but gentlemanlike, and when he lost, he used to swear in German at everything that was French, looking daggers at the croupiers. He generally managed to lose aU he had about him, also all the money his ser vant, who Avas waiting in the ante-chamber, carried I recoUect looking attentively at the manner in Avhich he played ; he would put his right hand into his pocket, and bring out several rouleaus of Napoleons, throwing them on the red or the black. If he won the first coup, he would allow it to remain ; but when the croupier stated that the table was not responsible for more than ten thou sand francs, then Blucher would roar like a lion, and rap out oaths in his native language which would doubtless have met with great success at BUUngsgate, if duly translated : fortunately, they were not heeded, as they were not understood by the lookers-on. At that period there were rumours — and reliable ones, too — that Blucher and the Duke of Welling ton were at loggerheads. The Prussians wanted to blow up the Bridge of Jena ; but the duke sent a battaUon of our regiraent to prevent it, and the Prussian engineers who were raining the bridge were civUly sent away : this circurastance created sorae Ul-will between the chiefs, A sort of congress of the Emperors of Austria I 130 THE PRUSSIANS IN PARIS. and Russia and the King of Prussia, with Blucher and Wellington, met at the Hotel of Foreign Aft'airs, on the Boulevard, when, after much ado, the Duke of Wellington emphaticaUy declared that if any of the monuraents were destroyed he would take the British array frora Paris : this threat had the de sired effect. Nevertheless, Blucher levied contribu tions on the poor Parisians, and his array was newly clothed. The Bank of France was called upon to furnish him with several thousand pounds, which, it was said, were to reimburse him for the money lost at play. This, with many other instances of extortion and tyranny, was the cause of Blucher's removal, and he took his departure by order of the king. The Prussians in Paris, — The French had be haved so iU at BerUn, after the battle of Jena, in 1806, that the Prussians had sworn to be revenged, if ever they had the opportunity to visit upon France the cruelties, the extortion, insults, and hard usage their own capital had suffered ; and they kept their word, I once saw a regiment of Prussians march down the Rue St Honor6 when a line of half-a-dozen hackney-coachmen were quietly endeavouring to make their way in a contrary direction ; suddenly some of the Prussian soldiers left their ranks, and Avith the butt-end of their muskets knocked the poor coachmen off their seats, I naturally felt ashamed at what I had seen, and, being in uniform, some Frenchmen came up to me and requested me to re port what I had witnessed to the Duke of Welling ton, Upon my telling them it would be of no avail, they one and all said the English ought to JEW MONEY-LENDERS. 131 blush at having aUies and friends capable of such wanton brutality. One afternoon, when upwards of a hundred Prus sian officers entered the galleries of the Palais Royal, they visited all the shops in turn, insulting the wo men and striking the men, breaking the windows, and turning everything upside down : nothing, in deed, could ha\'e been more outrageous than their conduct. When information was brought to Lord James Hay of what was going on, he went out, and arrived just as a troop of French gendarmes were on the point of charging the Prussians, then in the garden. He lost no time in calling out his men, and, placing himself between the gendarmes and the officers, said he should fire upon the first who raoved. The Prussians then came to him and said, ¦" We had aU vowed to return upon the heads of the French in Paris the insults that they had heaped upon our countrymen in Berlin ; we have kept our A'ow, and we AviU now retire," Nothing could equal the bitter hatred which existed; and still exists, be tween the French and the Prussians. Jew Money-Lenders, — One of the features of hio^h society after the long war was a passion for gambling ; so universal was it, that there are few faraUies of distinction who do not even to the pre sent day retain unpleasant reminiscences of the period. When people become systematic players, they are often obliged to raise money at an exorbi tant interest, and usually under such circumstances fly to the Israelites, I have often heard players wish these people in almost every uncomfortable quarter of the known and unknown worlds. The 132 JEW MONEY-LENDERS, raildness and civility with which the Christian in difficulties always addresses the raoneyed Israelite, contrast forcibly with the opprobrious epithets la vished on him when the day for settlement comes. When a man requires raoney to pay his debts of honour, and borrows from the Jews, he knows per fectly well what he is doing ; though one of the last things which foolish people learn is how to trace their own errors to their proper source, Hebrew money-lenders could not thrive if there were no borrowers : the gambler brings about his own ruin. The characteristics of the Jew are never more perceptible than when he comes in contact with gentlemen to ruin them. On such occasions, the Jew is humble, supercilious, blunderingly flattering : and if he can become the agent of any dirty work, is only too happy to be so, in preference to a straightforward and honest transaction. No raan is more vulgarly insulting to those dependent upon him than the Jew, who invariably cringes to his superiors ; above aU, he is not a brave man. It wUl be seen frora these observations what is my opinion of a class of traders who in all parts of the world are sure to embrace what may be termed Ulicit and illegitimate coraraerce. At the same time, I suspect that the Jew simply avails hiraself of the weakness and vices of mankind, and AviU con tinue in this line of business so long as imprudent and extravagant humanity remains what it is. Two usurers, who obtained much notoriety from the high game which was brought to them, were men knoAvn by the names of Jew King and Solomon. These were of very different characters. King was a man of some talent, and had good taste in the fine JEW MONEY-LENDERS, 133 arts ; he had made the peerage a complete study, knew the exact position of CA'ery one who was con nected with a coronet, the value of their property, how deeply the estates Avere mortgaged, and what incumbrances weighed upon thera. Nor did his knowledge stop there : by dint of sundry kind at tentions to the clerks of the leading banking-houses, he Avas aware of the balances they kept, and the credit attached to their naraes ; so that, to the sur prise of the borrower, he let him into the secrets of his OAvn actual position. He gave excellent din ners, at which many of the highest personages of the realm were present ; and when they fancied that they were about to raeet individuals whom it would be upon their conscience to recognise else where, were not a little amused to find clients quite as highly placed as theraselves, and with purses quite as empty. King had a well-appointed house in Clarges Street ; but it was in a villa upon the banks of the Thames, which had been beautifully fitted up by Walsh Porter in the Oriental style, and which I be lieve is now the seat of one of the most favoured A'otaries of the Muses, Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, that his hospitalities were most lavishly and luxuri ously exercised. Here it was that Sheridan told his host that he liked his table better than his multipli cation table ; to which his host, who was not only witty, but often the cause of wit in others, replied, " I know, Mr Sheridan, your taste is more for Jo king than for Jew King : " alluding to King the actor's admirable perforraance in Sheridan's School for Scandal. King kept a princely establishment, and a splen- 134 JEW MONEY-LENDERS, did equipage, which he made to serve as an ad vertisement of his calling, A yellow carriage, with panels emblazoned with a well- executed shield and arraorial bearings, and drawn by two richly-capari soned steeds, the Jehu on the box wearing, accord ing to the fashion of those days, a coat of many capes, a powdered wig, and gloves d VHenri Quatre,. and two spruce footmen in striking but not gaudy livery, with long canes in their hands, daily made its appearance in the Park from four to seven in the height of the season. Mrs King was a fine- looking woraan, and being dressed in the height of fashion, she attracted innuraerable gazers, who pronounced the whole turn-out to be a Avork of refined taste, and Avorthy a man of " so much principal and interest," It happened that, during one of these drives. Lord WUliam L , a man of fashion, but, like other of the great raen of the day, an issuer of paper raoney discounted at high rates by the usurers, Avas thrown off his horse, Mr and Mrs King im mediately quitted the carriage, and placed the noble lord within. On this circumstance being mentioned in the clubs, Bruraraell observed it was only " a Bill Jewly (duly) taken up and honoured." Soloraon indulged in many aliases, being known by the names of Goldsched, SloAvman, as weU as by other noms de guerre ; and he was altogether of a different caste frora King, being avaricious, distrust ful, and difficult to deal with. He counted upon his gains with all the grasping feverishness of the raiser ; and owing to his great caution, he had an immense command of raoney, which the confidence of his brethren placed in his hands. To the jewel- JEW MONEY-LENDERS. 135 lers, the coachraakers, and the tailors, Avho Avere obliged to give exorbitant accommodation to their aristocratic customers, and were eventually paid in bUls of an incredibly long date, Solomon was of in estimable use, Hamlet, Houlditch, and other de pendants upon the nobility were often compelled to seek his assistance, Hamlet, the jeweller, was once looked up to as the richest tradesman at the West End. His shop at the corner of Cranbourne Alley exhibited a pro fuse display of gold and silver plate, whilst in the jcAvel room sparkled diamonds, amethysts, rubies, and other precious stones, in every variety of set ting. He was constantly caUed on to advance money upon such objects, which were left in paAvn, only to be taken out on the occasion of a great banquet, or when a court dress was to be worn. His gains were enorraous, though it was necessary to give long credit ; and his biUs for twenty or thirty thousand pounds were eagerly discounted. In fact, he was looked upon as a second Croesus, or a Crassus, who could have bought the Roraan em pire ; and his daughter's hand was sought in mar riage by peers. But aU at once the mighty bubble coUapsed, He had adA'anced money to the Duke of York, and had received as security property in Nova Scotia, consisting chiefly of mines, which, when he began to work them, turned out valueless, after entaUing enormous expense. Loss upon loss suc ceeded, and in the end bankruptcy, I have even heard that this man, once so envied for his wealth, died the inmate of an almshouse, Sorae persons of rank, tempted by the offers of these usurers, lent their money to them at a very 136 LORD ALVANLEY. high interest. A lady of some position lent a thou sand pounds to King, on the promise of receiving annuaUy 15 per cent, ; which he continued to pay Avith the utmost regularity. Her son being in want of money, applied for a loan of a thousand pounds, which King granted at the rate of 80 per cent, ; lending hira, of course, his mother's raoney. In a raoraent of tenderness the young man told his tale to her, when she imraediately went to King and up braided him for not raaking her a party to his gains, and demanded her money back. King refused to return it, saying that he had never engaged to re turn the principal ; and dared her to take any pro ceedings against hira, as, being a married woman, she had no power over the money. She, however, acknowledged it to her husband, obtained his for giveness ; and, after threats of legal interference. King was compelled to refund the money, besides losing rauch of his credit and popularity by the transaction. Lord Alvanley, — To Lord Alvanley was awarded the reputation, good or bad, of aU the witticisms in the clubs after the abdication of the throne of dandyism by Bruraraell ; who, before that time, was always quoted as the sayer of good things, as Sheridan had been some time before. Lord Al vanley had the talk of the day completely under his control, and was the arbiter of the school for scandal in St James's, A hon mot attributed to him gave rise to the belief that Solomon caused the downfall and disappearance of Brummell ; for on some friends of the prince of dandies observing that if he had re mained in London something might have been done lord alvanley, 137 for him by his old associates, Alvanley replied, " He has done quite right to be off: it Avas Solomon's judgment," AVhen Sir Luraley Skeffington, who had been a lion in his day — and whose spectacle, the Sleeping Beauty, produced at a great expense on the stage, had made him looked up to as deserAdng all the blandishments of fashionable life — reappeared some years after his complete doAvnfall and seclusion in the bench, he fancied that by a very gay external appearance he would recover his lost position ; but he found his old friends very shy of him, Alvanley being asked, on one occasion, who that smart-looking individual was, answered, " It is a second edition of the Sleeping Beauty, bound in calf, richly gilt, and iUustrated by many cuts.' One of the gay men of the day, named Judge, being incarcerated in the Bench, some one observed, he beHeved it was the first instance of a Judge reaching the bench without being previously called to the bar ; to which Alvanley replied, " Many a bad judge has been taken frora the bench and placed at the bar." He used to say that Bruraraell was the only Dandehon that flourished year after year in the hot-bed of the fashionable world : he had taken root. Lions were generally annual, but BrurameU was perennial, and he quoted a letter from Walter Scott : — " If you are celebrated for writing verses, or for slicing cucumbers, for being two feet taller, or two feet less, than any other biped, for acting plays when you should be whipped at school, or for attending schools and institutions when you should be preparing for your grave, your notoriety becomes a talisman, an ' open sesame,' 138 GENERAL PALMER, which gives way to everything, till you are voted a bore, and discarded for a new plaything," This passage appeared in a letter from Walter Scott to the Earl of Dalkeith, when he himself, Belzoni, Master Betty the Roscius, and old Joseph Lancaster the schoolmaster, were the lions of the season, and were one night brought together by my indefati gable old friend. Lady Cork, who was "the Lady of Lyons " of that day. General Palmer. — This excellent man had the last days of his life embittered by the money-lend ers. He had comraenced his career surrounded by every circumstance that could render existence agreeable ; fortune, in his early days, haAdng smUed raost benignantly on hira. His father was a man of considerable ability, and was to the past genera tion what Rowland HiU is in the present day — the great benefactor of correspondents. He first pro posed and carried out the mail-coach system ; and letters, instead of being at the mercy of postboys, and a private speculation in raany instances, became the care of Government, and were transmitted under its immediate direction. During the lifetime of Mr Palmer, the reward due to him for his suggestions and his practical knowledge was denied ; he accordingly went to Bath, and became the manager and proprietor of the theatre. He occasionally trod the boards him self, for which his elegant deportment and good taste eminently qualified him ; and he has often been mistaken for Gentleman Palmer, whose portrait is well drawn in the Memoir of Sheridan by Dr Sigmond, prefixed to Bohn's edition of Sheridan's GENERAL PALMER. 139 plays. Mr Palmer Avas successful in his under taking, and at his death his son found himself the inheritor of a handsome fortune, and became a uniA'ersal favourite in Bath, The corporation of that city, consisting of thirty apothecaries, were, in those borough-mougering days, the sole electors to the House of Coraraons, and finding young Palmer hospitable, and intiraate Avith the Marquis of Bath and Lord Camden, and likcAvise desiring for themselves and their families free access to the most agreeable theatre in Eng land, they returned him to Parliament, He entered the army, and became a conspicuous officer in the 10th Hussars, which regiment being commanded by the Prince Regent, Palmer was at once intro duced at Carlton House, the PavUion at Brighton, and consequently into the highest society of the country ; for which his agreeable manners, his araiable disposition, and his attainraents, admirably qualified him. His fortune was sufficiently large for aU his wants ; but, unfortunately, as it turned out, the House of Commons voted to him, as the representative of his father, £100,000, which he Avas desirous of laying out to advantage. A fine opportunity, as he imagined, had presented itself to him ; for, in travelling in the diligence from Lyons to Paris — a journey then requiring three days — he met a charming widow, who told a tale that had not only a wonderful effect upon his susceptible heart, but upon his araply-fiUed purse. She said her husband, who had been the proprietor of one of the finest estates in the neighbourhood of Bordeaux, was just dead, and that she was on her way to Paris to seU the property, that it might 140 GENERAL PALMER, be divided, according to the laws of France, amongst the family. Owing, ho w-e ver, to the ab solute necessity of forcing a sale, that which was worth an enormous sum would realise one quarter only of its value. She described the property as one admirably fitted for the production of wine ; that it was, in fact, the next estate to the Chateau Lafitte, and would prove a fortune to any capitalist. The fascinations of this lady, and the temptation of enormous gain to the speculator, impelled the gallant colonel to offer his services to relieve her frora her erabarrassment ; so by the time the dili gence arrived in Paris he had become the proprie tor of a fine domain, which was soon irrevocablj' fixed on him by the lady's notary, in return for a large sum of raoney : and, had the colonel proved a raan of business, he would no doubt have been araply repaid, and his investraent raight have be come the source of great wealth. Palmer, however, conscious of his inaptitude for business, looked around him for an active agent, and believed he had found one in a Mr Gray, a man of captivating manners and good connexions, but almost as useless a person as the general him self Fully confident in his own abUities, Gray had already been concerned in many speculations ; but not one of them had ever succeeded, and all had led to the deraolition of large fortunes. Plausible in his address, and possessing many of those super ficial qualities that please the multitude, he ap peared to be able to secure for the claret — which was the production of the estate — a large clientele. Palmer's claret, under his auspices, began to be talked of in the clubs ; and the bon vivant was GENEEAL PALMER, Ul anxious to secure a quantity of this highly-prized wine. The patronage of the Prince Regent being con sidered essential, Avas solicited, and the prince, with his egotistical good nature, and from a kindly feeUng for Palmer, gave a dinner at Carlton House, when a fair trial Avas to be given to his claret, A select circle of gastronomes Avas to be present, amongst v/hom was Lord Yarraouth, well known in those days by the appeUation of "Red-herrings," from his rubicund Avhiskers, hair, and face, and from the toAvn of Yarmouth deriving its principal support from the importation from Holland of that fish ; Sir Benjamiu Bloorafield, Sir William Knigh ton, and Sir Thoraas Tyrwhitt, were also of the party. The Avine was produced, and was found excellent, and the spirits of the party ran high ; the Ught wine aniraating them without intoxication. The Prince was delighted, and, as usual upon such occasions, told some of his best stories, quoted Shakspeare, and was particularly happy upon the bouquet of the wine as suited " to the holy Palmer's kiss," Lord Yarmouth alone sat in moody silence, and, on being questioned as to the cause, replied that whenever he dined at his Royal Highness's table, he drank a claret which he much preferred — that which was furnished by Carbonell, The prince immediately ordered a bottle of this wine ; and to give them an opportunity of testing the difference, he desired that some anchoA^ sandwiches should be served up. CarboneU's wine was placed upon the table : it was a claret raade expressly for the Lon don market, well-dashed with Hermitage, and infi- 142 GENERAL PALMER. nitely more to the taste of the Englishmen than the delicately-flavoured wine they had been drink ing. The banquet terminated in the prince declar ing his own wine superior to that of Palmer's, and suggesting that he should try some experiraents on his estate to obtain a better wine. Palmer came from Carlton House much mortified. On Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt atterapting to console him, and saying that it was the anchovies that had spoiled the taste of the connoisseurs, the general said, loudly enough to be heard by Lord Yarmouth, " No ; it was the confounded red herrings," A duel was very nearly the consequence. General Palmer, feeling it his duty to follow the advice of the prince, rooted out his old vines, planted new ones, and tried all sorts of experiments at an iraraense cost, but with little or no result. He and his agent, in consequence, got themselves into all sorts of difficulties, mortgaged the property, borrowed largely, and Avere at last obhged to have recourse to usurers, to life assurances, and every sort of expedient, to raise money. The theatre at Bath was sold, the Reform in Parliament robbed him of his seat, and at last he and his agent be came ruined raen. A subscription would have been raised to relieve hira, but he preferred ending his days in poverty to living upon the bounty of his friends. He sold his coraraission, and was plunged in the deepest distress ; AvhUe the accumu lation of debt to the usurers became so heavy, that he was compelled to pass through the In solvent Court, Thus ended the career of a raan who had been courted in society, idolised in the array, and figured "MONK" LEWIS, 143 as a legislator for many years. His friends, oi course, fell off, and he was to be seen a mendicant in the streets of London — shunned Avhere he once Avas courted. Gray, his agent, became equaUy involved ; but, marrying a Avidow Avith some money, he was enabled to raake a better fight, EventueJly, how ever, he became a prey to the money-lenders, and his life ended under circumstances distressing to those who had knoAvn him in early days, '¦ Monk " Lewis, — One of the most agreeable men of the day was " ]\lonk " Lewis, As the author of The Monk and Tales of Wonder, he not only found his way into the best circles, but gained a high re putation in the literary world. His poetic talent Avas undoubted, and he was intimately connected Avith Walter Scott in his ballad researches : his Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene was recited at the theatres. Wherever he went he found a wel come reception ; his West Indian fortune and con nexions, and his seat in Parliament, giving hira access to all the aristocratic circles. From these, however, he was banished upon the appearance of the fourth and last dialogue of the Pursuits of Literature. Had a thunderbolt fallen upon him, he could not have been more astonished than he was by the onslaught of Mr Matthias, which led to his ostracism frora fashionable society. It is not for me to appreciate the value of this satirical poem, which created such an extraordinary sensation, not only in the fashionable, but in the political world ; I, however, remember that whilst at Canning's, at the Bishop of London's, and at Gifford's, it was pronounced the most classical and 144 "MONK" LEWIS. spirited production that had ever issued from the press ; it was held up at Lord HoUand's, at the Marquis of Lansdowne's, and at Brookes's, as one of the most spiteful and Ul-natured satires that had CA-er disgraced the literary world, and one which no talent or classic lore could ever redeem. Certain it is that Matthias feU foul of poor "Monk" Lewis for his romance : obscenity and blasphemy were the charges laid at his door ; he was acknowledged to be a raan of genius and fancy, but this added only to his crirae, to which was superadded that of being a very young raan. The charges brought against hira cooled his friends and heated his ene raies ; the young ladies were forbidden to speak to hira, raatrons even feared hira, and from being one of the idols of the world, he became one of the ob jects of its disdain. Even his father was led to believe that his son had abandoned the paths of virtue, and was on the high road to ruin, " Monk" Lewis, unable to stand against the out cry thus raised against him, determined to try the effects of absence, and took his departure for the island in which his property was ;.but unfortunately for those who dissented from the ferocious judgment that was passed upon him, and for those who had discrimination enough to know that after all there was nothing very objectionable in his romance, and felt assured that posterity would do him jiLstice, this araiable and kind-hearted man died on his passage out ; leaving a blank in one variety of literature which has never been filled up. The denunciation was not foUowed by any other severe criticism ; but editors have, in comphance with the insinuations of Matthias, omitted the pas- SIR THOINIAS TURTON. M5 sages which he pointed out as objectionable, so that the original text is seldom met with, " Monk" LcAvis had a black servant, affectionately attached to his master ; but so ridiculously did this servant repeat his master's expressions, that he be came the laughing-stock of all his master's friends, Bruraraell used often to raise a hearty laugh at Carlton House by repeating Avitticisms which he pretended to have heard from Lewis's servant : some of these were very stale ; yet they were con sidered so good as to be repeated at the clubs, and greatly added to the reputation of the Beau as a teUer of good things, "On one occasion," said BrumraeU, "I caUed to inquire after a young lady who had sprained her ankle ; Lewis, on being asked how she was, had said, in the black's presence, ' The doctor has seen her, put her legs straight, and the poor chicken is doing well,' The servant, therefore, told me, Avith a mysterious and knowing look, ' Oh, sir, the doctor has been here ; she has laid eggs, and she and the chickens are doing well,' " Such extravagances in those days were received as the essence of wit, and to such stories did the pubUc give a AviUing ear, repeating them with un wearying zest. Even Sheridan's wit partook of this character, raaking him the delight of the prince, who ruled over the fashionable world, and whose approbation was sufficient to give currency to any thing, however ludicrous and absurd. Sir Thomas Turton. — There is a pleasure in re calling to memory even the schoolboy pranks of men who make a figure in the world. The career of Turton promised to be a brUliant one ; and had K 146 SIR THOMAS TURTON, he not offended against the moral feeling of the country, and lost his position, he would have mounted to the highest step in the ladder of for tune. At Eton he shewed hiraself a dashing and a daring boy, and was looked upon by Dr GoodaU, the then head raaster, as one of his best classical scholars ; by his schoolfeUows he was even more highly regarded, being the acknowledged " cock of the school," Amongst the qualities that endeared him to them, was a fearlessness which led him into dangers and difficulties, from which his pluck only could extricate him. He Avas a determined poacher : not one of the skulking class, but of a daring that led him to exert his abilities in Windsor Park itself ; where he contrived to bag game, in spite of the watchfulness of the keepers and the surveiUance of the well-paid watchers of the night. On one occa sion, however, by some unlucky chance, tidings of his successes reached the ears of the royal gamekeeper, who formed a plan by which to entrap him ; and so nearly were they pouncing upon Turton that he was obliged to take to his heels and fly, carrying with him a hare which he had caught. The keepers foUowed close upon his heels until they came to the Thames, into which Turton plunged, and, stUl hold ing his prize by his teeth, swam to the other side, to the astonishment and dismay of his pursuers, who had no inclination for a cold bath, and whose morti fication was great at seeing Turton safely landed on the other side. He reached the college in safety; and the hare served for the enjoyment of merry friends, Turton's history in afterlife I will not pur sue ; but raust express my regret that he threAV THE LATE LORD STRANGFORD. 147 aAvay golden opportunities of showing his love for classic lore, and his abUity to meet the difficulties of life, in the same bold way in which he swam the Tharaes and baffled the Windsor garaekeepers. George Smythe, the late Lord Strangford. — This is another friend to whora I am pleased to pay the tribute of a reminiscence, and who, if he was not as Avell knoAvn as most of those I have spoken of, was yet highly prized by many of the most distinguished persons, and formed one of a circle that had great influence in England. Being the son of the weU-known Lord Strangford, the translator of Canioens, he had a first place in aristocratic society, and had he not given himself up to indulgences and amuseraents, raight have reached the rank of statesman. The late Lord Strangford was distinguished by those external qualifications which are everywhere acceptable ; his manners were polished and easy, his conversation elegant and witty, and these, added to great per sonal attractions, gave hira a charra which was generaUy felt, DisraeU, Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, and the leading raen of the day, were his associates. When Lord Aberdeen became Minister for Foreign Affairs he selected George Smjrthe as under-secre- tary ; in which capacity he acquitted himself with great abiUty, He could not, however, act under Lord Palmerston, and rather than do so gave up his position. He did not long survive, but died very young ; just as he was beginning to learn the value of his rare abUities, and had ascertained how best they might have been of use to his country. 148 THE HONOURABLE GEORGE TALBOT. The Honourable George Talbot. — I have a very viAdd recollection of George Talbot, a brother of the late Earl of Shrewsbury, and who was a fashionable man about town, of whom there are many anecdotes in circulation. The only one that took my fancy was related to me in Paris, where he was as usual in the midst of the gayest of the gay, recklessly spending his raoney, and oftentimes re sorting for resources to the gambUng-table, where at last he was thoroughly pigeoned, Talbot had tried in vain all the usual means of recruiting his empty purse. Being a Roman Catho lic, like most of the raembers of one of the oldest families in Great Britain, he was a regular attendant upon the ceremonies of his Church, and acquainted with all the clergy in Paris ; so he took the resolu tion of going to his confessor, unburdening his con science, and at the sarae tirae seeking counsel from the holy father, as to the best way of raising the wind. After entering minutely into his condition, and asking the priest how he could find funds to pay his debts and take hira home, the confessor seemed touched by his tale of woe, and after much apparent consideration recommended him to trust in Providence, Talbot seeraed struck with such sensible advice, and proraised to caU again in a few days. This second visit was raade in due course ; he again raourned over his condition, and requested the priest's advice and assistance. His story was listened to as before, with rauch coramiseration, but he was again recoraraended to trust in Providence, Talbot came away quite crestfallen, and evidently with little hope of any imraediate reUef After the lapse of a few days, however, he appeared again A DINNER AT SIR JAMES BLAND BURGES'S. 149 before his confessor, apparently much elated, and invited the worthy abbe to dine with him at the Rocher du Cancalle, This invitation Avas gladly accepted, the holy father not doubting but that he should haA-e aU the delicacies in the land ; to Avhich, in common with the rest of the clergy, he had no objection : nor was he disappointed. The dinner Avas o~echercM ; the best the establishment could furnish was placed before thera, and most heartily and lovingly did the worthy abbe devote himself to Avhat was offered. At the end of the repast the carte d payer was duly furnished ; but what was the astonishment of the reverend guest when Talbot declared that his purse was completely au sec, and that it had been a long time empty, but that upon this occasion, as upon aU others, he trusted, as the abbe had advised hira, in Providence, The Abbe Pecheron, recovering frora his surprise, and being of a kind and generous disposition, laughed heartily at Talbot's irapudence, and feeling that he had deserved this rebuke, he pulled out his purse, paid for the dinner, and did what he should have done at first — wrote to the raembers of Talbot's family, and obtained for him such assistance as enabled him to quit Paris, and return home, where he afterwards led a more sober life, A Dinner at Sir James Bland Burges's, in Lower Brook Street, Autumn, 1815, — I was once invited to dinner by Sir James Burges, father of my friend. Captain Burges of the Guards : it was towards the end of the season 1815, I there raet, to ray great delight. Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott ; and araongst the rest of the com- 150 A DINNER AT SIR JAMES BLAND BURGES'S. pany were Lord Caledon, and Croker, the Secretary to the Admiralty, Sir James had been private secretary to Pitt at the time of the French Revolu tion, and had a fund of curious anecdotes about everything and everybody of note at the end of the last century, I reraember his telling us the now generally-received story of Pitt dictating a king's speech off-hand — then a more difficult task than at the present day — without the slightest hesitation ; this speech being adopted by his colleagues nearly word for word as it was written doAvn, Walter Scott was quite delightful ; he appeared full of fire and animation, and told sorae interesting anecdotes connected Avith his early life in Scotland, I reraeraber that he proved himself, what would have been called in the olden times he delighted to portray, "a stout trencher-man ;" nor were his at tentions confined by any means to the eatables ; on the contrary, he shewed hiraself worthy to have made a third in the faraous carousal in Ivanhoe, between the BlackKnight and the Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst, Byron, whom I had before seen at the shooting- galleries and elsewhere, was then a very handsome man, with reraarkably fine eyes and hair ; but was, as usual, aU show-off and affectation, I recoUect his saying that he disliked seeing women eat, or to have their company at dinner, from a Avish to be lieve, if possible, in their more ethereal nature ; but he was raUied into avowing that his chief dis like to their presence at the festive board arose from the fact of their being helped first, and consequently getting all the wings of the chickens, whilst men had to be content with the legs or other parts. LORD BYRON. 151 Byron, on this occasion, Avas in great good humour, and full of boyish and even boisterous mirth. Croker Avas also agreeable, notwithstanding his bitter and sarcastic remarks upon everything and everybody. The sneering, ill-natured expression of his face, struck rae as an irapressive contrast to the frank and bencA-olent countenance of Walter Scott, I never assisted at a more agreeable dinner. According to the custom of the day, we sat late ; the poets, statesmen, and soldiers all drank an im mense quantity of wine, and I for one felt the effects of it next day. Walter Scott gave one or two re citations, in a very animated raanner, frora the baUads that he had been collecting, which delighted his auditory ; and both Lord Byron and Croker added to the hilarity of the evening by quotations from, and criticisms on, the more prominent writers of the period. Lord Byron, — I knew very little of Lord Byron personally, but lived rauch Avith two of his intimate friends, Scrope Davies and Wedderburn Webster, from whom I frequently heard many anecdotes of him, I regret that I reraeraber so few ; and wish that I had written down those told me by poor Scrope Davies, one of the most agreeable raen I ever met. When Byron was at Cambridge, he was intro duced to Scrope Davies by their mutual friend, Matthews, who was afterwards drowned in the riA'er Cam, After Matthews's death, DaAdes be came Byron's particular friend, and was admitted to his rooms at aU hours. Upon one occasion he found the poet in bed Avith his hair en papillote. 152 LORD BYRON, upon which Scrope cried, " Ha, ha ! Byron, I have at last caught you acting the part of the Sleeping Beauty," Byron, in a rage, exclairaed, " No, Scrope ; the part of a d d fool, you should have said," " Well, then, anything you please ; but you have succeeded admirably in deceiving your friends, for it was my conviction that your hair curled natu rally." " Yes, naturaUy every night," returned the poet ; " but do not, ray dear Scrope, let the cat out of the bag, for I ara as vain of ray curls as a girl of sixteen," When in London, Byron used to go to Manton's shooting-gaUery, in Davies Street, to try his hand, as he said, at a wafer, Wedderburn Webster was present when the poet, intensely delighted Avith his own skUl, boasted to Joe Manton that he considered himself the best shot in London, " No, my lord," replied Manton, " not the best ; but your shooting to-day was respectable." Whereupon Byron waxed Avroth, and left the shop in a violent passion. Lords Byron, Yarmouth, PoUington, Mountjoy, Wallscourt, Blandford, Captain Burges, Jack Bou verie, and rayself, were in 1814, and for several years afterwards, amongst the chief and most con stant frequenters of this weU-known shooting- gallery, and frequently shot at the wafer for considerable sums of money, Manton was allowed to enter the betting list, and he generaUy backed me. On one occasion I hit the wafer nineteen times out of twenty, Byron lived a great deal at Brighton, his house being opposite the Pavilion, He was fond of boat- LORD BYRON, 153 ing, and Avas generally accompanied by a lad, who Avas said to be a girl in boy's clothes. This report Avas confirmed to rae by Webster, who Avas then living at Brighton. The vivid description of the page in Lara, no doubt, gave some plausibility to this often-told tale. I myself witnessed the dexter ous raanner in which Byron used to get into his boat ; for, Avhile standing on the beach, I once saw hira vault into it Avith the agility of a harlequin, in spite of his larae foot. On one occasion, whilst his lordship was dining with a few of his friends in Charles Street, Pall Mall, a letter was delivered to Scrope Davies, which required an iraraediate answer. Scrope, after read ing its contents, handed it to Lord Byron, It was thus worded : — "My dear Scrope, — Lend me 500?. for a few days ; the funds are shut for the dividends, or I would not have made this request, " G. Brummell." The reply was : — " My dear Brummell, — All my raoney is locked up in the funds, " Scrope Davies." This was just before BrumraeU's escape to the Continent, I have frequently asked Scrope Davies his private opinion of Lord Byron, and invariably received the sarae answer — that he considered Lord Byron very agreeable and clever, but vain, overbearing, con ceited, suspicious, and jealous, Byron hated Pal- raerston, but liked Peel, and thought that the whole 154 SHELLEY. world ought to be constantly eraployed in admiring his poetry and himself : he never could write a poera or a drama without raaking hiraself its hero, and he was always the subject of his own conver sation. During one of Hobhouse's visits to Byron, at his villa near Genoa, and whilst they were walking in the garden, his lordship suddenly turned upon his guest, and, apropos of nothing, exclairaed, "Now, I know, Hobhouse, you are looking at my foot," Upon which Hobhouse kindly replied, "My dear Byron, nobody thinks of or looks at anything but your head," Shelley. — Shelley, the poet, cut off at so early an age, just when his great poetical talents had been matured by study and reflection, and when he pro bably would have produced some great work, was my friend and associate at Eton, He was a boy of studious and raeditative habits, averse to all games and sports, and a great reader of novels and roman ces. He was a thin, slight lad, with remarkably lustrous eyes, fine hair, and a very peculiar shriU voice and laugh. His most intimate friend at Eton was a boy named Price, who was considered one of the best classical scholars araongst us. At his tutor, Bethell's, where he lodged, he attempted many me chanical and scientific experiments. By the aid of a common tinker, he contrived to raake something like a steam-engine, which, unfortunately, one day suddenly exploded, to the great consternation of the neighbourhood and to the irarainent danger of a severe flogging from Dr GoodaU, Soon after leaving school, and about the year SHELLEY, 155 1810, he came, in a state of great distress and diffi culty, to Swansea, when Ave had an opportunity of rendering him a service ; but Ave never could ascer tain what had brought him to AVales, though we had reason to suppose it was some mysterious affaire du cceur. The last time I saAv Shelley A\'as at Genoa, in 1822, sitting on the sea-shore, and, when I carae upon him, making a true poet's meal of bread and fruit. He at once recognised me, jumped up, and appearing greatly delighted, exclaimed, "Here you see me at my old Eton habits ; but instead of the green fields for a couch, I have here the shores of the Mediterranean, It is very grand, and very ro mantic, I only wish I had some of the excellent brown bread and butter we used to get at Spiers's : but I was never very fastidious in my diet," Then he continued, in a wUd and eccentric manner : "Gronow, do you reraeraber the beautiful Martha, the Hebe of Spiers's 1 She was the loveliest girl I ever saw, and I loved her to distraction," SheUey was looking careworn and ill ; and, as usual, was very carelessly dressed. He had on a large and wide straw hat, his long brown hair, already streaked with gray, flowing in large masses from under it, and presented a wild and strange appearance. During the time I sat by his side he asked raany questions about myself and many of our school fellows ; but on ray questioning hira in turn about hiraself, his way of life, and his future plans, he avoided entering into any explanation : indeed, he gave such short and evasive answers, that, thinking my inquisitiveness displeased him, I rose to take 156 EOBERT SOUTHEY. my leave, I observed that I had not been lucky enough to see Lord Byron in any of ray rarables, to which he replied, " Byron is living at his villa, sur rounded by his court of sycophants ; but I shall shortly see him at Leghorn." We then shook hands, I never saw hira again ; for he was drowned shortly afterwards, with his friend. Captain WiUiaras, and his body was washed ashore near Via Reggio, Every one is familiar Avith the romantic scene which took place on the sea-shore, when the re- raains of ray poor friend and Captain Williams were burnt, in the presence of Byron and Trelawny, in the Roraan fashion. His ashes were gathered into an urn, and buried in the Protestant cemetery at Rome, He was but twenty-nine years of age at his death. Robert Southey, the Poet. — In the year 1803 ray father received a letter of introduction from Mr Rees, of the weU-known firm of Longman, Pater noster Row, presenting Robert Southey, the poet, to him. He came into Wales Avith the hope of finding a cottage to reside in. Accordingly a cavalcade was forraed, consisting of Mr W, GAvynne, the two brothers Southey, ray father, and rayself, and we rode up the Valley of Neath to look at a cottage about eight raUes from the toAvn. The poet, de lighted with the scenery and situation, decided upon taking it ; but the owner, unfortunately for the honour of Welshmen, actuaUy declined to let it to Robert Southey, fearing that a poet could not find security for the sraall annual rent of twenty- five pounds. This circurastance led the man of let ters, who eventuaUy became one of the raost distin- CAPTAIN HESSE, 157 guished raen of his day, to seek a home elsewhere, and the Lakes were at length chosen as his resi dence. Probably the picturesque beauties of Cum berland compensated the Laureate for the indignity put upon him by the Welshman, An act of Vandalism perpetrated in the same Vale of Neath, and reflecting no honour on my countrymen, deserA'es here to be noted with repro bation, A natural cascade, called Dyllais, which was so beautiful as to excite the admiration of tra vellers, was destroyed by an agent to Lord Jersey, the proprietor of the estate, in order to buUd a few cottao-es and the lock of a canal. The rock down Avhich this beautiful cascade had flowed from the time of the Flood, and which had created a scene of beauty universaUy admired, was blown up with gun powder by this man, who could probably appreciate no more beautiful sight than that which presents itself from a AA'indow in Gray's or Lincoln's Inn, of which he was a member. Captain Hesse, formerly of the 1 8th Hussars, — One of my most intimate friends was the late Cap tain Hesse, generaUy believed to be a son of the Duke of York, by a Gerraan lady of rank. Though it is not my intention to disclose certain faraily secrets of which I am in possession, I may, nevertheless, record sorae circurastances connected with the life of my friend, which were familiar to a large circle with whom I mixed. Hesse, in early youth, lived with the Duke and Duchess of York ; he was treated in such a manner by them as to indicate an interest in him by their Royal Highnesses which could scarcely be attributed to ordinary regard, and 158 CAPTAIN HESSE. Avas gazetted a cornet in the 18th Hussars. at seven teen years of age. Shortly afterwards he went to Spain, and was present in all the battles in which his regiment was engaged ; receiving a seA'ere wound in the wrist at the battle of Vittoria, When this became known in England, a royal lady wrote to Lord Wellington, requesting that he might be care- fuUy attended to ; and, at the sarae tirae, a watch, Avith her portrait, was forwarded, which was deli vered to the wounded hussar by Lord Wellington himself When he had sufficiently recovered, Hesse returned to England, and passed rauch of his time at Oatlands, the residence of the Duchess of York ; he was also honoured with the confidence of the Princess Charlotte and her mother,' Queen Caro line. Many delicate and important transactions were conducted through the medium of Captain Hesse ; in fact, it was perfectly weU known that he played a striking part in many scenes of domestic life which I do not wish to reveal. I may, how ever, observe that the Prince Regent sent the late Admiral Lord Keith to Hesse's lodgings, who de manded, in his Royal Highness's name, the restitu tion of the watch and letters which had been sent him when in Spain, After a considerable amount of hesitation, the admiral obtained what he wanted the following day ; whereupon Lord Keith assured him that the Prince Regent would never forget so great a mark of confidence, and that the heir to the throne would ever afterwards be his friend, I regret to say, from personal knowledge, that upon this occasion the prince behaved most ungratefully and unfeelingly ; for, after having obtained all he VISITING IN THE COUNTRY. 169 AA'anted, he positively refused to receive Hesse at Carlton House. Hesse's life was full of singular incidents. He was a great friend of the Queen of Naples, grand- raother of the ex-Sovereign of the Two Sicilies ; in fact, so notorious Avas that liaison, that Hesse was eventually expelled from Naples under an escort of gendarmes. He was engaged in several affairs of honour, in which he always displayed the utmost courage ; and his romantic career terrainated by his being kUled in a duel by Count Leon, natural son of the first Napoleon. He died as he had lived, beloved by his friends, and leaving behind hira little but his name and the kind thoughts of those who survived hira. Visiting in the Country, — When I returned to London from Paris, in 1 8 1 5, upon promotion, I was ac companied by Colonel Brooke, who was good enough to invite me to pass some time at his brother's. Sir R, Brooke, in Cheshire, upon the occasion of the christening of his eldest son. The fete was truly mao-nificent, and worthy of our excellent host ; and all the great people of the neighbouring counties were present. Soon afterwards I went to the Hale, a country house near Liverpool, belonging to Mr Blackburn, one of the oldest raerabers of the House of Com raons, where raany persons, who had been at Sir Richard Brooke's, raet again. Mr Blackburn was extreraely absent and otherwise odd : upon one oc casion I gave hira a letter to frank, which he deli berately opened and read in my presence; and on my asking him if it amused him, he replied that he 160 COLONEL KELLY AND HIS BLACKING, did not understand what it meant. Upon another occasion, the Duke of Gloucester, accompanied by Mr Blackburn, went out to shoot pheasants in the preserves near the Hale ; when all of a sudden, Mr B., observing that the duke's gun was cocked, asked his Royal Highness whether he always carried his gun cocked, "Yes, Blackburn, always," was the reply, "Well then, good morning, your Royal Highness ; I will no longer accorapany you," At dinner Mr Blackburn was very eccentric : he would never surrender his place at table even to royalty ; so the duke was obliged to sit near him. Whenever the royal servant filled the duke's glass with wine-and-water, Mr B, invariably drank it off; until at length the duke asked his servant for raore wine-and-water, and anticipating a repetition of the farce that had so often been played, drank it off, and said, " Well, Blackburn, I have done you at last," After dinner the duke and the raen went to join the ladies in the drawing-room, where the servant in royal livery was waiting, holding a tray, upon which was a cup of tea for the duke. Mr Blackburn, observing the servant in waiting, and that nobody took the cup of tea, determined on drinking it ; but the domestic retired a httle, to endeavour to prevent it, Mr Blackburn, however, followed and persisted ; upon which the servant said, " Sir, it is for his Royal Highness," " D his Royal Highness ; I AviU have this tea," The duke exclaimed, " That's right, Blackburn," and ordered the servant to hand it to him. Colonel Kelly and his Blacking, — Among the odd characters I have met with, I do not re- lord ALLEN AND COUNT D'ORSAY. 161 coUect any one more eccentric than the late Lieu tenant-Colonel Kelly, of the First Foot Guards, Avho was the vainest raan I ever encountered. He was a thin, emaciated-looking dandy, but had all the bearing of the gentleman. He was haughty in the extreme, and very fond of dress ; his boots were so weU varnished that the polish now in use could not surpass KeUy's blacking in brilliancy ; his pan taloons Avere made of the finest leather, and his coats were inimitable : in short, his dress was con sidered perfect. His sister held the place of housekeeper to the Customhouse, and when it was burnt down, Kelly was burnt with it, in endeavouring to save his favourite boots. When the news of his horrible death became known, aU the dandies were anxious to secure the services of his valet, who possessed the mystery of the inimitable blacking, Brummell lost no time in discovering his place of residence, and asked what wages he required ; the servant answered, his late master gave him £150 a year, but it was not enough for his talents, and he should require £200 ; upon which BrumraeU said, " Well, if you wUl raake it guineas, I shaU be happy to attend upon you." The late Lord Plymouth event uaUy secured this phoenix of valets at £200 a year, and bore away the sovereignty of boots. Lord Allen and Count D'Orsay, — Lord AUen being rather the worse for drinking too much wine at dinner, teased Count d'Orsay, and said sorae very disagreeable things, which irritated him ; when suddenly John Bush entered the club and shook hands Avith the count, who exclaimed, " VoiR 162 THE LATE LORD BLOOMFIELD. la difference entre une bonne houche et une mau- vaise haleine." The following bon mot was also attributed to the count : General Ornano, observing a certain noble man — who, by some misfortune in his youth, lost the use of his legs — in a Bath chair, which he wheeled about, inquired the name of the English peer ; D'Orsay answered, " Pfere la Chaise," The count had raany disciples among our men of fashion, but none of thera succeeded in copying the ¦original. His death produced, both in London and in Paris, a deep and universal regret. The count's life has been so weU delineated in the public prints, that nothing I could say would add to the praise that has been bestowed upon hira. , Perfectly natu ral in raanners and language, highly accomplished, and never betraying the slightest affectation or pre tension, he had formed friendships with some of the noblest and raost accoraplished men in England, He was also a great favourite in Paris, where he had begun to exercise his talent as an artist, when death prematurely removed him from society, Mr Phelps, — Mr Phelps, a chorus singer, and an excellent musician, with good looks and address, contrived to ingratiate hiraself with the Marchioness of Antrira, and was fortunate enough to raarry her ladyship, by whose influence he was created a baronet, and, through his raarriage, he became allied to some of our most aristocratic famUies, The late Lord Bloompield, — The late Lord Bloorafield likewise owed his elevation to the Peer- aee to his musical talents. When the Prince of THE RIGHT HON. GEOEGE CANNING, 163 Wales was living at the Pavilion at Brighton, he wanted sorae one who could accompany him on the violoncello, and having ascertained that Captain Bloorafield, of the Royal Artillery, who was then at Brighton with his troop, was an accomplished violonceUo player, the captain was accordingly summoned to appear before the prince at the Pavilion. From that night coramenced an inti macy which for many years existed between the prince and Captain Bloorafield, who for a consider able length of time was Avell known in fashionable circles under the title of Sir Benjarain Bloorafield. A court intrigue, headed by a fascinating mar chioness, caused him to be sent into splendid exile : this lady attributing to Sir Benjamin Bloorafield her being compeUed to send back some jewels which had been presented to her by the Prince Regent, but which, it waa discovered, belonged to the Crown, and could not be alienated. Sir Ben jamin was created a peer, and sent to Stockholra as arabassador, where his affable manners and his unostentatious hospitality rendered him exceedingly popular ; and he became as great a favourite with Bernadotte as he had been with the Prince Regent, The name of Bloorafield is at this day respected in Sweden, The Right Hon, George Canning. — When Mr Canning retired from Portugal, he was received at Paris with a distinction and a deference perhaps never before bestowed on a foreign diplomatist ; he dined with Charles X, almost tete-d-tSte, and was scrambled for by the leading aristocracy of France, It happened that he also dined, on one 164 DOCTOR GOODALL, OF ETON. occasion, with the Bailli de Ferrete, who was the oldest foreign arabassador in Paris ; and it was generally understood that Canning, who had the reputation of being a gourmand, and was not in robust health at the tirae, never thoroughly re covered from these Parisian hospitalities, A short time after, this great orator, and the most brilliant statesman of the day, breathed his last at Chiswick, in the sarae roora in which ©harles James Fox died! Mrs Boehm, of St James's Square, — This lady used to give fashionable baUs and masquerades, to Avhich I look back with much pleasure, .The Prince Regent frequently honoured her fetes Avith his pre sence, Mrs Boehra, on one occasion, sent invita tions to one of her particular friends,' begging him to fill them up, and tickets were given by liim to Dick Butler (afterwards Lord Glengal) and to Mr Raikes, Whilst they were deliberating in what character they should go, Dick Butler — for by that name he was only then known — ^proposed that Raikes should take the part of ApoUo ;* which the latter agreed to, provided Dick would be his lyye. The noble lord's reputation for stretching the long bow rendered this repartee so applicable, that it Avas universally repeated at the clubs, Dr Goodall, of Eton, — This gentleman was pro verbially fond of punning. About the same time that he was raade Provost of Eton, he received, also, a stall at Windsor, A young lady of his acquaint ance, whUe congratulating him on his elevation, and * Raikes, being a city merchant as well as a dandy, was called " Apollo," because he rose in the East and set in the West, THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 1G5 requesting hira to give the young ladies of Eton and Windsor a ball during the vacation, happened to touch his Avig Avith her fan, and caused the pow der to fly about. Upon which the. doctor exclairaed, " My dear, you see you can get the powder out of the canon, but not the ball," Lord Melbourne, the Duke of Leinster, and Lord Normanby, — When Lord Melbourne offered the garter to the Duke of Leinster, his grace is re ported to have answered that he did not want it ; adding, " It wiU, no doubt, be eagerly accepted by one of your lordship's supporters in the Upper House," ¦ On another occasion, when Lord Nor- raanby was soliciting Lord Melbourne to be raade a raarquis, the noble Premier observed, in his jocular way, "Why, Normanby, you are hot such a d — d fool as to want that !" The favour, however, was eventuaUy granted. The Duke of Gloucester. — His Royal Highness, who was in the habit of saying very ludicrous things, at,ked one of his friends in the House of Lords, on the occasion when WUliam IV, assented to Lord Grey's proposition to pass the Reform BUl coAte que co4te, "Who is SUly Billy now V This was in allu sion to the general opinion that was prevalent of the royal duke's weakness, and which had obtained for him the sobriquet of " SUly Billy." The duke frequently visited Cheltenham during the season. Upon one occasion he called upon Colonel Higgins, brother to the equerry of his Royal Highness the Prince Regent, and, on inquiring of the servant if his master was at horae, received for 106 THE DUCHESS OF GORDON, answer, " My master is dyeing," " Dying !" re peated the duke ; " have you sent for a doctor 1 " "No, sir," His Royal Highness immediately ran back into the street, and, having the good fortune to find a medical man, he requested him to come at once to Colonel Higgins, as he was on the point of death. The duke and the doctor soon reached the colonel's house, and, after again asking the servant how his master was, that functionary replied, " I told you, sir, that he is dyeing," They mounted the staircase, and were rather amused to find the reported invalid busily occupied in dyeing his hair. Lady Cork, — In 1819 this venerable lady lived in Old Burlington Street, where she gave many parties, to persons of aU nations, and contrived to bring together foreigners frora the wilds of Araerica, the Cape of Good Hope, and even saA'ages from the isles of the Pacific ; in fact, she was the notorious lion-hunter of her age. It was supposed that she had a peculiar ignorance of the laws of meum and tuum, and that her monomania was such that she would try to get possession of whatever she could place her hands upon ; so that it was dangerous to leave in the ante-room anything of value. On ap plication being made, however, the articles were usually returned the following day, the fear of the law acting strongly upon her ladyship's bewUdered brain. The Duchess of Gordon, — This leader of fashion, who was Avont to be the admiration of aU circles, was looked upon as the most ambitious of women, and her vanity was fully gratified by the marriage THE LA-TE MRS BRADSHAW (MARIA TREE.) 167 of her daughters to the first people in the realm — ¦ the Dukes of Richraond, Manchester, and Bedford, and the Marquis of CornwaUis, The LATE Mrs Bradshaw (Maria Tree.) — The two ]\Iiss Trees, Maria and Ellen, (the latter now Mrs Kean,) were the great favourites of the Bath stage for raany seasons before they became leadino- stars in London. Miss Ellen Tree made her first appearance in a grand entertainment, called the Cataract of the Ganges, in a magnificent car drawn by six horses. Her beauty made a deep impression on the audience, which was nlturaUy increased by her subsequent exhibition of griat talents. Miss Maria Tree was rauch admired as a vocalist, and her Viola, in Twelfth Night, was one of the most popular performances of the day, Mr Bradshaw became desperately enaraoured of her during her engageraent in London, and having learnt that she was about to go by the raail coach to Birrainghara, where she was to perform her principal characters, thought it a favourable opportunity of enjoying her society ; so he sent his servant to secure him a place by the raail, under the name of Tomkins, At the appointed time for departure, Mr Bradshaw was at the office, and jumping into the coach was soon whirled away ; but great was his disappointment at finding that the fair object of his admiration was not a fellow-passenger : he was not consoled by dis covering that there were two mails, the one the Birmingham mail, the other the Birrainghara and Manchester, and that whilst he was journeying by the latter. Miss Tree was travelling in the other. On arriving at Birrainghara, eariy in the morning. 1G8 THE LATE MRS BRADSHAW (MARIA TREE.) he left the coach and stepped into the hotel, deter mined to reraain there and go to the theatre on the following evening. He went to bed, and slept late the following day ; but on waking he reraerabered that his trunk with all his raoney had gone on to Manchester, and that he was without the raeans of paying his way. Seeing the Bank of Birmingham opposite the hotel, he went over and explained his position to one of the partners, giving his own banker's address in London, and shewing letters ad dressed to hira as Mr Bradshaw, Upon this he was told that with such credentials he raight have a loan ; and the banker said he would Avrite the necessary letter and cheque, and send the raoney over to him at the hotel, Mr Bradshaw, pleased with this kind attention, sat himself down comfort ably to breakfast in the coffee-room. According to promise, the cashier made his appearance at the hotel, and asked the waiter for Mr Bradshaw, " No such gentleman here," was the reply, " Oh, yes, he came by the London mail," " No, sir ; no one came but Mr Tomkins, who was booked as inside passenger to Manchester," The cashier was dissatisfied ; but the waiter added, " Sir, you can look through the win dow of the coffee-room door, and see the gentleman yourself" On doing so, he beheld the supposed Mr Tomkins, alias Mr Bradshaw, and imraediately re turned to the bank, teUing what he himself had heard and seen. The banker went over to the hotel, had a consultation with the landlord, and it was de termined that a watch should be placed upon the suspicious person who had two names and no lug gage, and who was booked to Manchester but had stopped at Birmingham. THE LATE MRS BRADSHAW (MARIA TREE.) 1G9 The landlord then sumraoned "boots," — a little lame fellow, of most ludicrous appearance, — and pointing to the gentleman in the coffee-room, told him his duty for the day Avas to follow hira wherever he Avent, and never to lose sight of hira ; but above all to take care that he did not get away. Boots nodded assent, and immediately mounted guard. Mr Bradshaw having taken his breakfast and read the papers, looked at his watch, and sallied forth to see soraething of the goodly town of Birrainghara, He was much surprised at observing a little odd- looking man surveying him most attentively, and watching his every moveraent ; stopping whenever he stopped, and evidently taking a deep interest in all he did. At last, observing that he was the object of this incessant espionage, and finding that he had a shilling left in his pocket, he hailed one of the coaches that ran short distances in those days when orardbuses were not. This, however, did not suit little boots, who went up to him and insisted that he must not leave the town. Mr Bradshaw's indignation was naturally exces sive, and he imraediately returned to the hotel, where he found a constable ready to take hira before the raayor as an irapostor and swindler. He was compeUed to appear before his worship, and had the mortification of being told that unless he could give some explanation, he raust be content with a night's lodging in a house of detention, Mr Bradshaw had no alternative but to send to the fair charmer of his heart to identify him ; which she raost readily did, as soon as rehearsal was over. Explanations were then entered into ; but he was forced to give the reason of his being in Birmingham, which of course 170 LADIES' JEWELLERY AND LOVERS, made a due impression on the lady's heart, and led to that happy result of their interviews — a marriage which resulted in the enjoyraent of rautual happi ness for raany years. Ladies' Jewellery and Loaters. — Some of the most magnificent fortunes of England have, in the first instance, been undermined by an extravagant expenditure on jewellery, which has been given to ladies, married and unmarried, who have fascinated their wealthy admirers and made thera their slaves, Haralet, and RundeU, and Bridge were in ray day patronised by the great, and obtained large sums of money from their enaraoured clients, to whora they often becarae bankers. On the day after the coronation of George IV,, Haralet made his appearance at the house of Mr Coutts, in PiccadUly, the corner of Stratton Street, It was during dinner ; but, owing no doubt to a previous arrangement, he was at once adraitted, when he placed before the rich banker a raagnificent diaraond cross, which had been worn the prcAdous day by the Duke of York, It at once attracted the admiration of Mrs Coutts, who loudly exclaimed, "How happy I should be with such a splendid specimen of jewellery." " What is it worth 1 " im mediately exclaimed Mr Coutts, "I could not aUow it to pass out of my possession for less than £15,000," said the wary tradesman. "Bring me a pen and ink," was the only answer made by the doting husband ; and he at once drew a cheque for that amount upon the bank in the Strand, and with much delight the Avorthy old gentleman placed the jewel upon the fair bosom of the lady : — THE LATE LORD HENRY SEYMOUR. 171 " Upon her breast a sparkling cross she -ivoro, Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore." The Earl of C , whose reputation in the sport ing world Avas of the highest order, and who had obtained some notoriety by his amours, fell into the hands of Hamlet, Avho was known to the aristocracy by his mock title of " Prince of Denmark," Hamlet placed before him on one occasion jewels to the amount of thirty thousand pounds, and volunteered, as his client Avas not of age, to give hira credit for several raonths. The offer was accepted, and the briUiant present becarae the possession of a young lady, one of the Terpsichorean tribe, (MaderaoiseUe le G.,) Avhose charras had captivated the youthful nobleman : she had irrevocably fascinated him by the expression of her love, awakened by the prospect of a rich remuneration, and she accepted hira as the sole possessor of a heart which had been before at the disposal of any rich admirer whose purse was worthy her consideration. This lady, who is now somewhat advanced in years, but has stiU the remains of beauty, is living in France upon her estate ; the produce of the many charras which she once possessed, and which she turned to such advantage as to raake her society, even up to this day, courted by those who look upon wealth as the great source of distinction, and who are AvUling to disbelicA-e any stories that they may accidentaUy hear of her previous history. The LATE Lord Henry Seymour, — I knew Lord Henry perhaps better than any other EngUshman, having lived with hira on terras of great intimacy. 172 THE LATE LORD HENRY SEYMOUR He was faraous for his racing stud and good taste in his carriages and riding horses. It was said, by per sons who were little acquainted Avith hira, that he was fond of raasquerades, fighting, and was also the terror of pugilists, frora his great strength and science in boxing ; on the contrary, he was a gentle, retiring, and humane raan, and never was known to have been present at a raasquerade, or any place of the sort. But it unfortunately happened that a raan naraed "Franconi," of the Circus, — a low-born and vulgar fellow, — reserabled hira in looks and stature, and having been raistaken for ray noble friend, gave himself out as Lord Seymour, in those dens of in faray where the noble lord was unknown. Lord Henry Seymour was a man of fine taste, and fond of the arts, and, at his death, his paintings, library, and plate fetched a considerable sum at public auction. During his lifetime he patronised young artists : often advancing them money, and assisting them in every possible way. He was the founder of the French Jockey Club, and, in conjunc tion with the late Duke de Gramont, (better known in England as the Count de Guiche,) made racing in France what it now is : that is, they placed the turf upon a respectable footing. Lord Henry estab lished a school of arms and gymnasiura in his hotel on the Boulevard des Italiens, which becarae the most celebrated in Europe, He himself was an adept. in the art of fencing, and his skiU was con sidered by the professors to be incomparable. Lord Henry's kindness of heart and unostentatious generosity were his noblest qualities. One raorning, whilst we were breakfasting in his library, a friend entered, and, with a sad countenance, inforraed him THE LATE LORD HENRY SEYMOUR. 173 that he had that raorning been visiting an old friend of his, a raan of good birth, who, with his wife and children, Avere absolutely starving, and that they were reduced to sleep upon straw. Lord Henry, touched by this painful inforraation, asked Avhcre those poor people were to be found, and being told, he said not a word raore, but ordered his carriage and Avent out. The next raorning the sarae gentle man made his appearance, and said, " I call to teU you, Seymour, that I am just come from ray poor friend, who, I am happy to say, has received relief in the shape of furniture, bedding, linen, and food, from some kind person, who also left a considerable sum of money to purchase wearing apparel for the faraily," Seyraour never moved a muscle of his face, and we were Avondering frora whence the relief carae, when a fine-looking feUow entered, bowing in the raost respectful raanner, and addressed his lordship in the foUowing terras : — " My lord, I am obliged to confess that I have taken sorae trouble to discover the narae of our benefactor, and frora all I have been able to learn, it cannot be any other than your lordship ; I therefore deera it ray duty, on behalf of my wife, chUdren, and self, to return you ray heart felt thanks for this unexarapled act of charity to wards a perfect stranger," The poor feUow shed tears in thus addressing his lordship, who kindly gaA'e him his hand, and proraised to be his friend for the future ; which proraise he fulfilled, by pro curing hira a place under the Government, that en abled hira to live happily and bring up his famUy with honour and corafort. 174 FRANCE AND THE FRENCH. France and the French, — I A\dU not permit this little volume to make its appearance in English society, without a few words about a people with whom I have mingled for nearly forty years. When I first came to France, few of my countrypeople tra velled, save those belonging to the rich and aristo cratic classes ; it was not, therefore, surprising that those whose interest it raight have been, on both sides of the Channel, to create a bad feeling between England and France, found little difficulty in doing so. An Englishman was taught to hate the French as well as to observe the Ten Commandments ; and a Frenchman, on the other hand, was educated with the idea that his only eneray on the face of the earth was an Englishraan, I regard this stiraulated hostile feeling between two nations which raust ever influence the welfare of the huraan race raore than any others, as one of the greatest calaraities that could curse huraanity. We have only to read history from the days of Agincourt up to our later struggles with Napoleon I., to corae to the conclusion that the two bravest and the raost intelligent nations on the face of the earth have, from dynastic ambition, and a want of the people knowing each other, been ever engaged in inflicting rautual disasters, Avhich have irapeded for centuries the progress, civilisation, and prosperity of both ; whilst the want of a proper understanding between the two countries has raaterially aided in retarding other nations in obtaining that political emancipation necessary to the happiness of man kind, I have liA'ed through a period characterised by sanguinary wars and huge national debts, and have FRANCE AND THE FRENCH. 175 reraained in this world long enough to calculate their results. I am afraid we raust often be con tent with that erapty glory Avhich lives only in the pages of history, A battle fought fifty years ago appears very often of no raore utility than the splen did tomb of a necropolis. Events and objects for which men by thousands were brought together in deadly combat, assume, a few years afterwards, mighty sraaU proportions ; and those who have taken part iu deadly struggles, at a later period marvel at the enthusiasm which then animated them, I ara no behever in that era of happiness which some divines imagine to be so near at hand ; nor do I iraagine that the next two or three hundred years AviU witness the sword turned into the reaping-hook of peaceful industry ; but what I do believe in, and what I hope for, is that nations wUl know each other better than they did of old. It will be more difficult for sovereigns and governments to bring about wars between neighbouring nations noAV, than it was before the existence of that intercomraunica- tion which in our day has been created by the press, the railway, and the electric telegraph, I have lived long enough to find hundreds of ray countryraen participating in a real knowledge of the French, and beUeving Avith rae that they are a brave, inteUigent, and generous nation. Nearly half a cen tury of experience araongst thera has taught me that there is rauch to learn and much that is worthy of imitation in France, The social habits of the French, and their easy mode of communication, al ways gain the admiration, and often invite the at tachment of foreigners. They are less prejudiced than we islanders, and are rauch raore citizens of 176 FRANCE AND THE FRENCH. the world than ourselves, I have received an im mense amount of courtesy in France ; and if there be less of solid friendship — which, however, in Eng land is based too often on a similarity of birth, po sition, and wealth— in France, you have, at least, a greater chance than in England of making a friend of a man who neither looks to your ancestors nor your araount of riches before he proffers you the raost sincere intiraacy, and, if necessary, disinter ested aid, purely on the ground of your own raerit and character. Many of the better qualities of the French are not discoverable by the superficial traveller, any more than the sterling qualities of the Englishman are ap preciated by the foreigner who makes a brief sojourn in Great Britain, Slowly, but, I believe, surely, the agreeable knowledge that I possess of the French is becoraing raore universal ; and I cannot but ima gine that such a correct appreciation will be fraught with the raost valuable political as weU as social results. Intelligent Englishraen have lived long enough to appreciate the genius of Napoleon I., whose mode of governing France has been applied by Napoleon IIL, with a success which prejudice even has been compeUed to acknowledge. But I remember a period when probably not a dozen Englishmen could have been found to speak of the first em peror with the most ordinary common sense, I will, however, record one honourable exception to the rule. The late Lord Dudley and Ward, an ec centric, but able man, was at Vienna, in the midst of a large party, who were all raore or less abusing or depreciating the fallen hero, whose very name FRANCE AND THE FRENCH. 177 had so long created fear and hatred araongst them. It Avas naturally supposed that the Englishraan who Avas silently listeuing to this conversation must of course, as the natural eneray of France, approve of all that had been said. Prince Metternicli turned at last to his guest, and said, " Et vous, ray lord, que pensez-A'ous de Napoleon 1" "Je pense," re plied Lord Dudley, " qu'il a rendu la gloire passee douteuse, et la renoram^e future impossible." As an old soldier and an admirer of the Duke of WeUington, I cannot altogether admit the entire justice of the observation; yet, spoken by an Eng Ushman to the eneraies of the exiled eraperor, it Avas a gallant homage paid to fallen greatness. The great man Avho noAV wields the destinies of France possesses raany of the remarkable qualities of the founder of his dynasty : his energetic will, his extensive and varied knowledge, his aptitude for government, his undaunted bravery, and that pecu liar tact which leads him to say the right thing at the right tirae. To these rare gifts he joins the raost princely generosity, and a kind and gentle heart : he has never been known to forsake a friend, or leave unrcAvarded any proofs of devotion shewn to hira in his days of exile. He is adored by the A'ast raajority of the French nation, and even his political opponents, if accidentaUy brought under the influence of his particularly Avinning and gra cious raanner, are, in spite of theraselves, charraed and softened. There can be no doubt that Napoleon III, enjoys a well-raerited popularity, and that there is throughout all classes a deep and earnest confi dence that the honour and glory of .France are safe in his hands, M 173 THREE HEROIC BROTHERS, It is just this mighty power, founded on the love and trust of his people, which is the surest pledge that peace will be maintained between our country and France, Napoleon III, does not require to court popularity by pandering to the anti-English prejudices still retained by a small minority of his subjects ; and, unlike the representatives of less po pular dynasties, he can afford to shew that he is not only the beloved and mighty ruler of the French nation, but also the firm aUy and faithful friend of England, Three Heroic Brothers. — Among ray souvenirs of 1815 there is one that has always struck rae as particularly touching in the annals of French gal lantry and heroisra, and which shews what raen we had to contend Avith in Spain, Portugal, and Belgium, There were three brothers named Angelet, whose heroic deeds have not, to the best of my knowledge, been recorded in any of the Memoirs of that time, and who all died or were mortally wounded on the bloody field of Waterloo, , The eldest brother started for the army as a conscript ; he soon after rose to the rank of Ser jeant, and for raany acts of daring he was raised to the rank of an officer in a regiraent of the line. When in Spain he was made prisoner by the guerillas, and as he was on the point of being mas sacred, his life was saved by an English officer ; but he was iraprisoned on the Spanish pontoons, where he suffered great hardships. He contrived, however, with singular daring and dexterity, to make his escape, Angelet went through the Russian campaign as THREE HEROIC BROTHERS. 179 captain in the Imperial Guard, was named major in the 141st Regiment in 1813, and took a glorious part in the battle of Lutzen, where he was danger ously Avounded by a cannon-ball in the leg. After his recovery, he returned to the Imperial Guard Avith the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and was engaged in all the battles of 1814, On the return of the Bourbons, he was named colonel of the grenadiers of the Garde Royale ; but, on the escape of Napoleon from Elba, he imraediately joined his glorious chief After many heroic deeds at AVaterloo, he received five wounds, and died at Brussels, after lingering in great agony for two months. His last raoraents Avere soothed by the presence of a beautiful young girl, to whom he was engaged to be married Avhen he left Paris to conquer or to die. The second brother, St Araand Angelet, was edu cated at the Ecole MUitaire, was present at alraost every battle in Spain, and for his gaUant deeds obtained the cross of the Legion of Honour, (which was not then as easUy won as it is now-a-days,) and the rank of captain. He received a wound in the leg at Orthes, and returned to Paris in 1814 to have it cured ; though he was always obliged to go on crutches. St Araand was named to the regiment commanded by his brother, and had to endure aU the insolence that Napoleon's brave soldiers were forced at that time to undergo from the titled young blancbecs set over them by the Bourbons, St Araand had for his chef de bataillon a young imigre of eighteen, who had never seen a shot fired, was perfectly ignorant of all military science, and excelled only in the art of tormenting his inferiors in grade. On 180 FRENCH HISTORIANS OF WATERLOO, the return of the Emperor Napoleon in 1815, St Araand Angelet compelled this insolent aristocrat to eat his croix du lys, (the order of the Bour bons,) in order that it might raeet with the most ignominious destiny. Angelet, who was a very handsome and agreeable man, and very rauch the fashion, was one day in a salo7i of the Faubourg St Gerraain openly expressing his joy at the Emperor's return, when a great lady Avho Avas present jeered him on his inabUity, on account of his wounds, to do more than speak in faA'our of his hero, St Araand, stung to the quick; and devoured by martial ardour and that passionate' devotion for his chief which was the characteristic of every man in the French army, started immedi ately for the frontier, and made the campaign of 1815 on his crutches: he was kUled in the early part of the day at Waterloo, The third brother, who was mild and gentle as a woman in face and manner, also fell bravely fighting in the last charge of that bloody day. After the battle. Doctor D , an intimate friend of the Angelet family, went to announce to the bereaved mother, who was also a AvidoAA', the death of her two younger sons. The eldest AA'as still lingering at Brussels, " I do not wish him to recover," said the w-eeping woman, "for then I should be forced to live for his sake, whereas when he goes I may follow and join all those I have loved upon earth," She died in the course of the year of a broken heart — that malady Avhich slays more than are numbered in the lists of men, French Historians op Waterloo. — As I ad- FRENCH HISTORIANS OF WATERLOO. 181 Vance in years, I find myself often wandering back to the scenes of my youth, and living over again the stirring events of ray early days ; and I confess to feeling a patriotic pride when I call to reraerabrance the glorious field of Waterloo — that "battle of giants" which decided the fate of the world, ]\lany eloquent pages have been written on that stirring topic, and varied, have been the accounts of that treraendous conflict ; our present braA-e allies to this very day continue to assert that they were not beaten, but were victims of a mis taken order, an act of treachery, or an evil destiny, ¦ — in short, that they succumbed to anything but the genius of AVellington, the energy of Blucher, and the dauntless courage of the English and Prussian armies. I must say that I cannot under stand how French writers iraagine that they lessen the hurailiation of defeat by attempting to decry or diminish the fame and prowess of the victor ; or why M. Thiers and others, in their accounts of Waterloo, raake so many vain attempts to prove that .we ought to have lost the battle. The Napoleon of M. Thiers's romance of Waterloo, — it is certainly not a history, — his Napoleon, I say, is not Napoleon as he was, but an ideal hero, omni scient and unerring, Ney and the other French generals are represented as brave blunderers, who could neither give, obey, nor execute an order ; Wel lington as a genius of the second-rate order, slow, and unenterprising, and the English soldiers as fel lows stubborn enough, but incapable of any aggres sive raoA'eraent — heavy, beef-fed knaves, standing up like logs, to be sabred, shot, and stuck by the active and intelligent veterans of the Garde Iraperiale, 182 FRENCH HISTORIANS OF WATERLOO. M. Thiers has been liberal to us in one respect. He has endowed several of our regiments with a very strong development of the vital principle. Many of our battalions, which, according to this great historian, had been entirely cut to pieces by the charges of French cavalry, nevertheless corae to life again towards the end of M, Thiers's account of the engageraent, and join with the utmost ardour in the last charge against the retreating French, All this is quite unworthy of a great writer and statesman like M. Thiers, who has had every means of knowing the truth ; and I, for one, cannot refrain from entering ray protest against the innumerable errors, false assertions, and convenient suppressions contained in the twentieth volume of his history. The farae of Wellington, as one of the great captains of the age, is world-wide, and, written as it is on fifty fields of battle, needs no defence from me ; but, Avhen I hear the British soldier pooh-poohed and de cried by M, Thiers, " who never set a squadron in the field, nor the division of a battle knew," I am raoved to say a few words raore on this stirring subject. , In spite of " Les Victoires et Conquetes de I'Arraee Frangaise," I raaintain that the British infantry is the finest in the world. I never saw anything to equal our old Peninsular regiments, not only for stub born endurance, but for dash, pluck, intelligence, and skill in manoeuvring. Nothing could beat them ; aud if we had had the army of veterans with which Ave crossed the Bidassoa, on the field of Waterloo, we should haA'e attacked the French instead of waiting their onset. But we had only 12,000 of our old Peninsular infantry, the rest were raw troops ; and though raany did their best, they. NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO, 183 Avere hardly a match for the French army, which was a A'ery efficient one, and almost entirely com posed of veterans. When I call to mind hoAV ill rewarded our noble soldiers Avere f )r their heroic deeds, my heart bleeds for them, " Under the cold shade of aristocracy," men who in France would have been promoted for their A'alour to the highest grades of the array, lived and died, tAventy or thirty years after the battle, Avith the rank of lieutenant or captain. As to the private soldiers, their stubborn endurance, their desperate courage, their indoraitable pluck, were but ill-rewarded by a shilling or two a-day, and a re fuge in Chelsea or Kilraainham Hospital, Napoleon at Waterloo. — The recent works ot M, Thiers and Colonel Charras, Quinet's defence of Marshal Ney, and Victor Hugo's romance of "Les Miserables," have directed public attention with renewed interest to the battle of Waterloo, and the various episodes connected with it, I have therefore ventured, in addition to the slight re marks made in my forraer A'olurae, to add a few further reminiscences of that eventful day. Though I took but a humble part in this great contest, yet I had opportunities of seeing and hearing much, both during and after the battle, l\ly anec dotes are derived either frora personal experience and observation, frora the conversation of those to whom they refer, or frora the common talk of the array at the tirae; and raany of these anecdotes raay be new to ray readers. But before I begin to retrace those scenes and episodes (which I fear will be in a A'ery imperfect 184 NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO, and desultory manner) I raust state that, while my adrairation for the great Duke and ray gallant com rades is unbounded, yet I repudiate any share in the vnlgar John Bull exultation which glories in having "licked the confounded French," Though i cannot agree with their Avriters in attributing their defeat to ill-luck, yet I am willing to admit that the tide of success had turned against Napoleon ; that he was not altogether what he had been, when at Austerlitz and Wagi'am he carried all before him. Then, flushed with victory, he was animated with the certainty of success, which in itself Avas an earnest of triumph. But all was changed Avhen the mighty conqueror came to play his last stake on the field of Waterloo, He knew defeat was possible, for he had been vanquished ; and, though his prestige was immense, yet the Garde Imperiale, and the other veterans of his noble army, who in former days had only thought of victory when comraanded by hira, now whispered together of dying with hira. Even the bravest of soldiers, or the raost desperate of garablers, plays his last stake with some degree of emotion and hesitation, knowing that all depends on the throw ; and Napoleon, feeling that (humanly speaking) he held in his hand the fate of erapires, and his own, kncAv that if he lost the day, all was over with hira in this Avorld. He was then not quite his former self ; and he certainly committed several errors about the middle of the day, and shewed considerable hesitation as to the orders to be given. The chief raistake he made, in my humble opinion, was this: he did not support the brilliant charges of his cavalry, and the tremendous AFTER QUATRE BRAS, 185 fire of his numerous and AA'ell-served artillery, by the general advance of his infantry, uutil it Avas too late and his cavalry Avere annihilated. After Quatre Bras, — I mentioned in my forraer A-olume that on my arrival to join ray regiment, I Avas iraraediately sent to the village of Waterloo, AA'ith a detachment, under Captain Clements, brother of Lord Leitrim, to take charge of some hundreds of French prisoners. They had been taken at Quatre Bras, and Avere confined in a barn and the court yard of a large farm-house. As ill-luck would have it, Clements did not place sentinels on the other side of the wall, which overlooked the plain leading to the forest of Soignies ; the consequence was, that Avitli the aid of a large waggon, which had been left in the yard, several of the prisoners scaled the waU, and made their escape. As soon as it Avas night, some more poor fellows attempted to foUow- their example ; but this time the alarm was giA'en, and our men fired and kUled or wounded a dozen of them. This firing at so late an hour brought several officers of the staff frora the neighbouring houses to ascertain the cause, and among thera came my poor friend Chambers, who kindly invited me to Sir Thomas Picton's quarters to supper, I accompanied hira thither, and after groping our way into the house, for it was A'ery dark, we passed the door of a room in which Sir Thoraas himself was lying, I heard him groan, from the pain of the wound he had received at Quatre Bras, but did not of course venture to disturb hira, and we passed on into a smaU hall, where I got some cold meat and wine. 18(5 THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO, The Battle of Waterloo. — At da}'light, on the 1 8tli, we were agreeably surprised to see a detach ment of the 3d Guards, comraanded by Captain Wigston and Ensign George Anson, the lamented General who died in India, who had been sent to relieve us, I took the opportunity of giving Anson, then a fine lad of seventeen, a sUver watch, made by Barwise, which his raother. Lady Anson, had re quested me to take over to him. Bob Clements and I then proceeded to join our regiraent. The road was ankle-deep in raud and slough ; and we had not proceeded a quarter of a raile when Ave heard the trarapling of horses' feet, and on look ing round perceived a large cavalcade of officers coraing at full speed. In a raoraent we recognised the Duke himself at their head. He Avas accom panied by the Duke of Richmond, and his son. Lord Williara Lennox, The entire staff of the array was close at hand : the Prince of Orange, Count Pozzo di Borgo, Baron Vincent, the Spanish General Alava, Prince Castel Cicala, w-ith their several aides-de camp ; Felton Harvey, Fitzroy Somerset, and De laney w-ere the last that appeared. They all seemed as gay and unconcerned as if they were riding to meet the hounds in some quiet English county. In about half-an-hour Ave joined our comrades in camp, who Avere endeavouring to dry their accoutre ments by the morning sun, after a night of rain and discomfort in their bivouac. I was noAv greeted by many of my old friends (whom I had not had time to speak to the day before, Avhen I Avas sent off to the village of Waterloo) with loud cries of " How are you, old fellow 1 Take a glass of wine and a bit of bam 1 it Avill perhaps be your last breakfast," Then THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO, 187 Burges called out, " Corae here, Gronow, and tell us sorae London news." He had raade hiraself a sort of gipsy-tent, with the aid of some blankets, a Serjeant's halberd and a couple of muskets, ]\ly dear old friend Avas sitting upon a knapsack, Avith Colonel Stuart, (who after- A\-ards lost his arm,) eating cold pie and drinking champagne, Avhich his servant had just brought from Brussels. I Avas not sorry to partake of his hospitality, and, after talking together some time, we were aroused by the drums beating to arms. AVe fell in, and the muster-roll having been called, the piling of arms foUoAved ; but Ave were not allowed to leaA'e our places. The position taken up by the British army was an excellent one : it Avas a sort of ridge, very favourable for artillery, and from which all the moveraents of the French could be discerned. In case of any disaster, Wellington had several roads in his rear by which a masterly retreat could have been effected through the forest on Brussels ; but our glorious commander thought little about retreat ing : on the contrary, he set all his energies to work, and determined to win the day. Our brigade was under the orders of General Maitland, and our division Avas comraanded by Sir George Cooke, We occupied the right centre of the British line, and had the chateau of Hougou- mont at about a quarter of a mile's distance on our right, Picton was on the extreme left at La Haye Sainte, with his division of tAvo British and one Hanoverian brigades, Hougoumont was garrisoned by the 2d and 3d regiments of the Guards, a battalion of Germans, and two battalions of artillery. 188 THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. who occupied the chateau and gardens. Between each regiment was a battery of guns, and nearly the whole of the cavalry was to the left of Sir Thomas Picton's division. About half-past eleven the bands of scA-eral French regiments were distinctly heard, and soon after the French artillery opened fire. The rapid beating of the pas de charge, which I had often heard in Spain — and which few men, however brave they may be, can listen to without a somewhat unplea sant sensation — announced that the enemy's columns Avere fast approaching. On our side the raost pro found sUence prevailed, whilst the French, on the contrary, raised loud shouts, and we heard the cry of " Vive V Empereur ! " frora one end of their line to the other. The battle commenced by the French throwing out clouds of skirmishers from Hougoumont to La Haye Sainte, Jerorae Bonaparte's division, sup ported by those of Foy and Bachelu, attacked Hougoumont, the wood and garden of which were taken and retaken several times ; but, after prodigies of A'alour performed on both sides, reraained in the hands of the French : who, however, sustained ira raense loss, and the chateau stiU belonged to the invincible English Guards, Whilst the battle was raging in the wood and orchard, eighty French guns, mostly twelve-pounders, opened upon us, and caused a heavy loss in our ranks. At the same raoraent, we could perceive from our elevated position that the enemy were attacking La Haye Sainte in great force. At about two o'clock, Ney, with the first corps forraed in four colurans, advanced en echelon the left wing for- THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO, 189 ward. They completely defeated and put to flight a Dutch-Belgian brigade, and then attacked Picton's division. He, hoAvcA'er, made a desperate resistance, and charged them several times, though they were four tiraes his number. It was then that noble soldier was killed by a musket-ball. Things looked ill there ; Avhen the Duke ordered up Adam's brigade, which regained the ground, and pushed eagerly forward. At the same time Lord Uxbridge comraanded the cavalry to charge. This order Avas adrairably exe cuted by Somerset on one side, and by Ponsonby on the other, and was for a time completely success ful. The French infantry brigades of Quiot, Don- zelot, and Marcoguet Avere rolled up and almost annihilated; tAventy guns were dismantled or spiked, and raany hundred prisoners taken ; several squad rons of cuirassiers were also charged and put to tho rout. Unfortunately our cavalry went too far without proper supports, and were charged and driven back by Milhaud's heavy cavalry and Jac- quinot's lancers, and had to take refuge behind our own Unes, Ney now received orders to attack La Haye Sainte, which was taken about four o'clock. At the sarae hour BuIoav's first columns raade their appearance, and attacked D'Erlon and Lobau, The Guards had Avhat in raodern battues is caUed a hot corner of it, and the greatest "gluttons" (and we had many such) must have aUowed, when night came on, that they had had fighting enough, I confess that I am to this day astonished that any of us reraained alive, Frora eleven o'clock tUl seven Ave Avere pounded with shot and shell at long and short range, were incessantly potted at by 190 THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO, tirailleurs who kept up a most biting fire, con stantly charged by immense masses of cavalry who seemed determined to go in and win, preceded as their visits were by a terrific fire of artillery ; and, last of all, we were attacked by " la Vieille Garde" itself. But here Ave carae to the end of our lono- and fiery ordeal. The French A-eterans, conspicuous by their high bearskin caps and lofty stature, on breasting the ridge behind which we were at that time, were met by a fearful fire of artillery and musketry, which swept away whole masses of those valiant soldiers ; and, while in disorder, they were charged by us with complete success, and driven in utter rout and discomfiture down the ravine. The Prussians having now arrived in force on the French right, a general advance of the whole line was ordered, and the day was Avon. During the battle our squares presented a shock ing sight. Inside we w-ere nearly suffocated by the sraoke and sraell from burnt cartridges. It was impossible to move a yard without treading upon a wounded comrade, or upon the bodies of the' dead; and the loud groans of the wounded and dying were most appalling. At four o'clock our square was a perfect hospital, being full of dead, dying, and mutilated soldiers. The charges of cavalry were iu appearance very for midable, but in reality a great relief, as the artUlery could no longer fire on us : the very earth shook u.nder the enormous mass of men and horses, I never shall forget the strange noise our bullets made against the breastplates of Kellermann's and MU- haud's cuirassiers, six or seven thousand in number, \yho attacked us with great fury. 1 can only com^ COLONEL COLQUITT. 191 pare it, with a somewhat homely simile, to the noise of a violent hail-storm beating upon panes of glass. The artiUery did great execution, but our mus ketry did not at first seem to kill many men ; though it brought doAvn a large number of horses, and created indescribable confusion. The horses of the first rank of cuirassiers, in spite of all the efforts of their riders, came to a stand-still, shaking and covered AAdth foam, at about tAventy yards' dis tance from our squares, and generally resisted all attempts to force them to charge the line of serried steel. On one occasion, two gallant French officers forced their way into a gap moraentarily created by the discharge of artillery : one was kiUed by Staples, the other by Adair, Nothing could be more gaUant than the behaviour of those veterans, many of whom had distinguished themsel\-es on half the battle-fields of Europe, In the midst of our terrible fire, their officers were seen as if on parade, keeping order in their ranks, and encouraging them. Unable to reneAV the charge, but unwiUing to retreat, they brandished their swords with loud cries of " Vive lEmpereur ,'" and aUowed themselves to be moAved down by hun dreds rather than yield. Our men, who shot them down, could not help admiring the gaUant bearing and heroic resignation of their eneraies. Colonel Colquitt, — During the terrible fire of artiUery which preceded the repeated charges of the cuirassiers against our squares, many shells fell amongst us. We were lying down, when a sheU fell between Captain (afterAvards Colonel) Colquitt and another officer. In an instant Colquitt jumped 192 CAPTAIN ROBERT ADAIR. up, caught up the shell as if it had been a cricket' ball, and flung it OA'er the heads of both officers and men, thus saving the lives of raany. brave feUows. Captain Chambers, Picton's favourite Aide- de-camp, — In looking back to forraer days, I recol lect Avith pride the friendship Avhich existed between Charabers and myself, I OAve ray presence at the battle of Waterloo to him ; for by him I was intro duced to Sir Thomas Picton, and it was by his advice that I joined ray regiment the day before the battle. After Picton's death, poor Chambers, in carrying orders to Sir James Kempt to retake at all hazards the farm of La Haye Sainte, advanced at the head of the attacking column, and was . in the act of receiving the SAVord of a French officer who had surrendered to him, w-hen he received a musket ball through the lungs, Avhich killed him on the spot. When the Duke of York heard of his death, H,R.H. exclairaed, " In hira Ave have lost one of our raost proraising officers." Captain Px-obert Adair, of the 1st G uards. — No language can express the adrairation felt by all who witnessed the heroic exploits of poor Adair. During the charges of the French cavalry, which were always preceded by a treraendous fire of artillery at point-. blank distance, w-e lost many men. The cuirassiers and heavy dragoons approached so close, that it was feared they Avould enter by the gap which had been raade in our square. Adair rushed forward, placed hiraself in the open space, and with one blow of his sword killed a French officer who had actually got amongst our men. After many exploits, shewing a SOMERVILLE BURGES, 193 coolness and a courage rarely equaUed, and never surpassed, Adair was struck towards the end of the day by a cannon baU, which shattered his thigh near the hip. His sufferings during the amputation were dreadful ; the shot had torn away the flesh of the thigh, and the bones were sticking up near the hip in splinters. The surgeon, Mr Gilder, had rauch difficulty in using his knife, having blunted it, and aU his other instruraents, by araputations in the earUer part of the battle. Poor Adair during the operation had sufficient pluck to raake one last ghastly joke, saying, " Take your time, Mr Carver," He soon afterwards died from loss of blood. Ensign Somerville Purges, op the 1st Foot Guards, was a younger son of Sir Jaraes Bland Burges, (his elder brother was kiUed at Burgos.) He enjoyed soldiering in the real sense of the word, and sought glory on every field of battle. He en tered the Guards before he attained the age of seven teen, and his buoyant spirits and athletic frarae fitted hira for a railitary Hfe, I breakfasted with hira on the raorning of the battle. After raany acts of great personal courage he was wounded by a cannon baU which shattered his leg in a frightful raanner. Amputation was the consequence ; and after the surgeon had dressed the wounds, he haUed some soldiers to carry Burges to the cart, upon which the latter declined being carried, saying, "I wiU hop into it ;" and he succeeded in performing this ex traordinary feat without further injury to the wounded stump. This heroic soldier, OAving to the regulations then in force, was put on the shelf for the remainder of his life, N 194 CAPTAIN CURZON, Percival, of the 1st Guards. — ^The wound which Captain Percival received was one of the most painful it ever fell to a soldier's lot to bear. He re ceived a ball which carried away all his teeth and both his jaws, and left nothing on the raouth but the skin of the cheeks, Percival recovered sufficiently to join our regiment in the Tower, three years sub sequent to the battle of Waterloo, He had to be fed with porridge and a few spoonfuls of broth ; but notwithstanding all the care to preserve his life, he sunk from inanition, and died very shortly after, his body presenting the appearance of a skeleton. Sir Colin Halkett, — Sir C, Halkett's wound, which was also frora a musket baU through the jaws, was not so dangerous; for it was said by Forbes the surgeon, that the General must have been in the act of ordering his raen to charge, with his mouth open when he was struck. Captain Curzon, — ^Among the many episodes of a battle-field, there is none so touching as the last moments of a brave soldier. Captain Curzon, son of Lord Scarsdale, was on the staff, and received a mortal wound towards the end of the battle, and lay bleeding to death by the side of his favourite charger, one of whose legs had been shattered by a cannon baU, As Lord March was passing by, Cur zon had just strength to caU to him, " Get me help, my dear March, for I fear it is aU over with me," Lord March hastened to look for a surgeon, and found one belonging to the first battalion of our regiraent, who went to the poor feUow's assistance ; buti idas ! life was extinct before the doctor arrived. COLONEL KELLY, 195 The doctor, in relating this event to us afterAvards, said, " I found poor Curzon dead, leaning his head upon the neck of his favourite horse, which seemed to be aware of the death of his master, so quiet did it remain, as if afraid to disturb his last sleep. As I approached, it neighed feebly, and looked at me as if it Avanted relief from the pain of its shattered limb, so I told a soldier to shoot it through the head to put it out of its pain. The horse as well as its master were both old acquaintances of mine, and I was quite upset by the sight of thera lying dead together," This tribute of sympathy and feeling was the more remarkable as coraing frora the doctor, who was one of the hardest and roughest diaraonds I ever reraeraber to have known ; but on this occa sion soraething raoved hira, and he had tears in his eyes as he related the incident. Captain, afterwards Colonel Kelly, of the Life Guards, and our Cavalry Charges. — This chivalrous man, of undaunted courage and very powerful frarae, in the deadly encounter with the cuirassiers of the Iraperial Guard, perforraed pro digies of valour. In the gaUant and, for a time, successful charge of the Household Brigade, he greatly distinguished himself ; and when our gaUant feUows, after sustain ing a terrible fire of artiUery, were attacked by an overwhehning force of French cavalry, and were forced to retreat behind our squares, Kelly Avas seen cutting his way through a host of eneraies. Shaw, the famous prize-fighter, a priA'ate in his regiment, carae to his assistance, and these two heroes fought side by side, kiUing or disabUng raany 196 LIEUTENANT TATHWELL. of their antagonists, till poor Shaw, after receiving several wounds, was killed frora a thrust through the body by a French colonel of cuirassiers, who in his turn received a blow frora KeUy's sword, which cut through his helmet and stretched him lifeless upon the ground, I recollect questioning my friend Kelly about this celebrated charge, at our raess at Windsor in 1816, when he said that he owed his Ufe to the ex- ceUence of his charger, which was weU bred, very weU broke, and of iraraense power. He thought that with an ordinary horse he would have been kiUed a hundred tiraes in the nuraerous encounters which he had to sustain. Charge op the Heavy Brigade, — In the charge of the Royals, Scots Greys, and InniskUlings on the one side, and the 1st and 2d Life Guards, Blues, and 1st Dragoon Guards on the other, the Scots Greys and Blues were ordered to act as sup ports. This their excessive ardour prevented them from doing, and they charged Asdth the others. On their return the want of supports was grievously felt. Colonel Ferrier of the 1st Life Guards, Lieu tenant-Colonel Fitzgerald of the 2d Life Guards, and Colonel Fuller of the 1st Dragoon Guards were kUled ; Major Packe of the Blues was kUled by a sword-thrust frora a French serjeant ; and Clement HiU, who afterwards commanded that regiment, received a lance-thrust which nearly pinned him to his saddle. Lieutenant Tathwell : Ill-treatment of a Prisoner by the French, — Lieutenant TathAveU COLONELS DAMER AND ilUTEE. 197 of the Blues Avas taken prisoner, and as he was being conducted to the rear of the French army, a wounded French officer, who was being carried by four soldiers, ordered Tathwell to be brought up to him, and inflicted several kicks upon the unfor tunate prisoner. Tathwell's captors seeraed very rauch shocked at this infaraous treatment, so diffe rent to the usual behaviour of the French, but did not dare to remonstrate. Sir W. Ponsonby, Lord E, Somerset, Sir John Elley, and Sir Horace Seymour, — Sir WiUiam. Ponsonby, after heading several splendid charges, on the retreat and on refusing to surrender, was kiUed by a serjeant of a regiment of dragoons, of which I forget the nuraber. He had got into sorae deep boggy ground, and was riding a very inferior horse, which was corapletely blown, and whose sluggishness cost hira his life. Lord Edward Soraerset, who coraraanded the Household Brigade, had a very narrow escape. His horse was kiUed, and he had only just time to creep through a thick hedge and leap on another horse before the enemy were upon him. Sir John Elley, colonel of the Blues, and Horace Seyraour, who was on the staff, two of the raost powerful men in the array, perforraed deeds worthy of the Paladins of the olden tirae. Horse and man went down before them, as they swept onward in their headlong course, and neither helmet nor cuirass could stand against swords wielded by such strong arms. The Honourable George Damer and Colonel Muter. — I remeraber, when at Brighton, hearing 198 HOUGOUMONT. Colonel George Damer relate the following anecdote, Avhich Avill give an idea of the losses sustained by our cavalry at Waterloo, Damer was on the staff, and, towards the close of the day, was sent to order the Union Brigade to advance with the rest of the army. After a long search, he at last came upon all that reraained of the brave fellows that coraposed the brigade. They were reduced to about two hun dred and fifty raen ; raany of thera wounded, with heads and hands bandaged, were standing by then- horses, who were panting and bloAving, and looked completely done up. At their head stood the gallant Colonel Muter of the InniskiUings, upon whom the command of the brigade had fallen after Ponsonby's death. This grim veteran had his helmet beaten in, and his arm, which had been badly wounded, was in a sling. When Damer came up, and said, "Now, gentlemen, you are to advance Avith the rest of the army," he said he should never forget the look that Muter cast upon hira. The gaUant Scot, however, said nothing, but got his raen together, and they aU broke into a sort of canter, and, guided by Damer, carae upon sorae French infantry, who were stUl defending theraselves with a kind of desperation. As Muter gave the order to charge, the French fired a volley and hit Daraer in the knee, who heard Muter grumble out in his Scotch phraseology, as he dashed amongst the French, " I think you ha' it nu', sir." Hougoumont, — I could distinctly see, at the com mencement of the battle, the Young Guard advance to attack Hougoumont, when a tremendous fire of artillery was opened upon thera, which had the MEETING OF WELLINGTON AND BLUCHER. 199 appearance of creating some confusion and disorder in their ranks. On they Avent, hoAvever, and in a moment got into the orchard. Then such a fire opened on both sides, and such a sraoke ensued, that, like Horaer's heroes, they were hidden by a cloud, and I could see no more, I had, besides, plenty to occupy my own attention immediately afterwards. About four o'clock, Saltoun and Charley Ellis, who had coraraanded the light corapanies of the battaUons of Guards, joined us Avith the wreck of those detachraents, after their gaUant defence of Hougouraont, I weU reraember General Maitland saying to Saltoun, " Your defence saved the army : nothing could be more gaUant. Every man of you deserves proraotion," Saltoun replied that it was " touch and go — a raatter of Ufe and death — for all Avithin the waUs had sworn that they would never surrender;" and Gurthorpe the adjutant added, " Our officers were determined never to yield, and the men were resolved to stand by them to the last," Meeting of Wellington and Blucher, — ^After our final charge, and the retreat of the French array, we arrived and bivouacked about nine o'clock in the orchard of the farm of La BeUe Alliance, about a hundred yards from the farmhouse where Napoleon had reraained for some hours. We were presently disturbed by the sound of trumpets ; I immedi ately hurried off, in company with several other officers, and found that the sound proceeded from a Prussian cavalry regiment Avith Blucher at its head. The Duke of WeUington, who had given rendez- 200 SUFFERINGS OF THE WOUNDED, VOUS to Blucher at this spot, then rode up, and the two victorious Generals shook hands in the most cordial and hearty manner. After a short con versation, our chief rode off to Brussels, while Blucher and the Prussians joined their own army, which, under General Gneisenau, was already in hot pursuit of the French. After this I entered the farmhouse where Napoleon had passed part of the day. The furniture had to all appearance been destroyed, but I found an immense fire made of a wooden bedstead and the legs of chairs, which appeared by the embers to have been burning for a considerable length of time. Sufferings of the Wounded, — On the following morning, we had not advanced for many minutes before we met several of our gaUant companions in arras who had been wounded. They were lying in waggons of the country, and had been abandoned by the drivers, Sorae of these poor feUows belonged to our regiment, and, on passing close to one of the waggons, a man cried out, "For God's sake, Mr Gronow, give us sorae water or we shaU go mad," I did not hesitate for a moment, but jumped into the cart, and gave the poor feUow aU the water my flask contained. The other wounded soldiers then entreated rae to fill it with some muddy water which they had descried in a neighbouring ditch, half fiUed by the rain of the preceding day. As I thought a flask would be of little use among so raany, I took off my shako, and haAdng first stopped up with my belcher handkerchief a hole which a rausket ball had made in the top of it, filled it with water several times for these poor fellows, Avho were p:^ronne la pucelle, 201 all too scA'erely Avounded to have got it for thera selves, and Avho drank it off Avith tears of delight. Excesses of the Prussians. — We perceived, on entering France, that our aUies the Prussians had coraraitted fearful atrocities on the defenceless in habitants of the villages and farras which lay in their Une of march. Before we left La Belle Alliance, I had already seen the brutaUty of sorae of the Prussian infantry, who hacked and cut up, in a raost savage raanner, aU the cows and pigs which were in the farmyards ; placing upon their bayonets the stiU quivering flesh, and roasting it on the coals. On our line of march, whenever we arrived at towns or vUlages through which the Prussians had passed, we found that every article of furniture in the houses had been destroyed in the most wanton raanner : looking-glasses, raahogany bedsteads, pictures, beds and raattresses, had been hacked, cut, half-burned, and scattered about in every direction ; and, on the shghtest remonstrance of the Avretched inhabitants, they were beaten in a most sharaeful manner, and soraetiraes shot. It is true that the Prussians owed the French a long debt of vengeance for all the atrocities coraraitted by the French at Berlin ; particularly by Davoust's corps after the battle of Jena, Peronne la Pucelle, — The fourth or fifth day after Waterloo, we arrived before Peronne la Pucelle, (the Virgin town,) as the inhabitants delighted to call it ; for they boasted that it had never been taken by an enemy. The Duke of WeUington suddenly made his appearance in our bivouac, and gave orders 202 V^ VICTIS. that we should, at aU risks, take Peronne before night. We accordingly prepared for action, and commenced proceedings by battering the gates with a strong fire of artillery. The guns of the Virgin fortress returned the compliment, and the first shot from the town feU under the belly of the Duke's horse ; but, beyond knocking the gravel and stones about in aU directions, did no injury. The garrison consisted of fifteen hundred National Guards, who had sworn never to surrender to mortal man ; but when these ardent volunteers saw our red-coats coming in with a rush, and with a grim determination to take no denial, they wisely laid down their arms and capitulated. Our loss, on this occasion, amounted to nine kUled and thirty wounded. Lord Saltoun had a narrow escape ; a ball struck hira on his breeches-pocket, Avhere half-a-dozen five- franc pieces broke the force of the blow : Saltoun, though not very Buonapartist in his opinions, re tained the mark of the Emperor's effigy on his thigh for sorae tirae ; and though not returned as wounded, suffered great pain for several days after, Yje Victis, — On the Guards arriving at St Pont Maixans, a town situated at about forty miles from Paris, I was sent by the adjutant to look out for quarters for myself and servant. In the neighbour hood of a small wood, I perceived a miU, and near it a river, and on looking a little further, saw a large farrahouse ; this I entered, but could not discover any living being. My servant, who had gone up stairs, however, inforraed rae, that the farmer was lying in bed dreadfully wounded from numerous sabre cuts. I approached his bed, and he appeared napoleon on the English army. 203 more dead than aliA-e ; but on my questioning him, he said the Prussians had been there the night be fore, had violated and carried off his three daughters, had taken away his cart-horses and cattle, and because he had no raoney to give thera, they had tied him to his bed and cut him with their swords across the shin-bones, and left him fainting from pain and loss of blood. After further inquiries, he told rae that he thought some of the Prussians were StiU in the ceUar ; upon which, I ordered ray bat- raan to load his musket, struck a light, and Avith a lantern proceeded to the ceUar, where we found a Prussian soldier drunk, and lying in a pool of wine which had escaped from the casks he and his cora- rades had tapped. Upon seeing us, he, with an oath in Gerraan, raade a thrust at my batman with his sabre, which was parried ; in an instant we bound the ruffian, and brought him at the point of the bayonet into the presence of the poor farmer, who recognised him as one of the men who had outraged his unfortunate daughters, and who had afterwards wounded him. We carried our prisoner to the provost-sergeant, who, in his turn, took hira to the Prussian head-quarters, where he was instantly shot. Napoleon's Mistaken Opinion of the English Army, — ^When we were in Paris we heard that Napoleon, on making his first observation with his glass, surrounded by his Generals, on the morning of the 18th, had said, with an air of exultation on finding that we had not retreated as he expected, " Je les tiens done ces Anglais;" but was answered by General Foy, " Sire, I'infanterie anglaise en duel 204 SIR F. PONSONBY, c'est le diable." We also heard that Soult, on re monstrating upon the uselessness of charging our squares with cavalry, had been severely reprimanded, and had undergone the biting and sarcastic re mark from the Eraperor, " Vous croyez WeUington un grand horarae. General, parce qu'il vous a battu," Sir Frederick Ponsonby, — This gaUant and ex cellent cavalry officer, who greatly distinguished hiraself at Talavera, and raany other actions in Spain, was the son of Lord Besborough, and a dis tant cousin of Sir WUliam Ponsonby who was killed. He coraraanded the 12th Light Dragoons, which forraed part of Vandeleur's brigade, and made a briUiant charge right through a French brigade of Marcognet's division, and rolled up part of Jac- quinot's Lancers, who were in pursuit of the rem nant of the Union Brigade, In this most gaUant affair he was struck from his horse by several sabre cuts, run through the body by a lancer as he lay upon the ground, and trarapled on by large bodies of cavalry, Ponsonby always considered that he owed his life to a French field-officer who had brought up sorae troops to the spot where he lay, had given hira a draught of brandy from his flask, and directed one of his raen to wrap hira in a cloak, and place a knapsack under his head. It is pleasant to think that Ponsonby became acquainted, raany years afterwards, Avith his pre server. The Baron de Laussat, formerly deputy for his department, the Basses Pyrenees, and a gentle man universally respected and beloved by all who knew him, was at this time a major in the dragoons NARROW ESCAPES— RECEPTION IN LONDON. 205 of the Iraperial Guard. After he had quitted the array he traveUed in the East for sorae years, and on his return, when at ]\Ialta, Avas introduced to Sir F. Ponsonby, then a Major-General and Governor of the island. In the course of conversation, the battle of Waterloo was discussed ; and on Ponsonby re counting his raany narrow escapes, and the kind treatraent he had received frora the French officer, M. de Laussat said, " Was he not in such-and-such a uniforra 1" "He was," said Sir F, "And did he not say so-and-so to you, and was not the cloak of such- and-such a colour 1" "I reraeraber it perfectly," was the answer. Several other details were entered into, which I now forget, but which left no doubt upon Ponsonby's mind that he saw before hira the raan to whom he OAved his life, " I was with the famous Colonel Sourd," added Laussat, " and I only knew that I had rendered what assistance I could to an English officer of rank, who seemed in a very hope less state ; and I am delighted to think that my care was not bestowed in vain," Narrow Escapes — Reception in London, — When we were lying doAvn in square to present a rather less fair mark to the French artiUery, which had got very near us, and had caused iraraense loss in our ranks, a cannon baU struck the ground close to Algernon Greville and myself, without injuring either of us. At the end of the day, I found that a grape shot had gone through the top of my shako, and one of my coat-taUs had been shot off, I got leave to go to England to join my battalion after we had been in Paris about a fortnight ; and I never shall forget the reception I met Avith as I dashed 206 ENGLISH AND PRUSSIAN ARMIES IN PARIS. up in a chaise and four to the door of Fenton's Hotel in St Jaraes's Street, Very few raen from the array had yet arrived in London, and a mob of about a thousand people gathered round the door as I got out in my old, weather-beaten uniform, shaking hands with rae, and uttering loud cheers, I also recoUect the capital English dinner old James, the weU-knoAvn waiter, had provided to celebrate ray return, " Ce sont les beaux jours de la vie," few and far between in our chequered existence, and I confess that ray memory wanders back to them with pleasure, and some regret to think that they can never more return. Conduct of the English and Prussian Armies DURING THE OCCUPATION OF Paris, — The Duke of Wellington's conduct to the Parisians was kind and considerate. He contented hiraself with occupying the Bois de Boulogne, the two faubourgs of La Vil- lette and La ChapeUe St Denis, Blucher was not so moderate in his conduct towards the French, His troops were bUleted in every house ; he obliged the inhabitants to feed and clothe them ; and he issued an order (which I well recollect seeing) comraand- ing the authorities to supply each soldier with a bedstead containing a bolster, a woollen raattress, two new blankets, and a pair of linen sheets. The rations per day, for each raan, were two pounds of bread of good quality, one pound of butcher's meat, a bottle of wine, a quarter of a pound of butter, ditto rice, a glass of br9,ndy, and some tobacco. The Prussian cavalry were not forgotten: each horse required ten pounds of oats, six of hay, ditto of straw, to be furnished early each day, Blucher's DOCTOR KEATE IN PARIS, 207 Generals occupied all the best hotels in the Faubourg St Germain; General Thielman that of Marshal Ney, where he forcibly took possession of the plate, carriages, and horses. Other Prussian Generals acted in a similar raanner. The Russian and Austrian armies, with the two Emperors, entered Paris soon after our arrival. The Emperors imitated Blucher in sorae respects ; they refused to quarter their soldiers in the large and Avholesorae barracks which were in readiness to receive them : no ; they preferred bUleting thera Avith peaceable merchants and tradespeople, whom they plundered and buUied in the most outrageous raanner, Welhngton, all this whUe, shewed great raoderation ; and his array paid for everything they required, Blucher, on the other hand, threatened to take possession of the Bank of France and the GoA'ernraent offices : which threat was not carried into execution, OAving to the wise and tiraely inter position of the Duke, One day, I recollect, Paris was in a state of araazeraent and stupefaction. Muffling, the cora- raander-in-chief in Paris of the Prussians, installed at the Hotel de ViUe, deraanded frora the French prefect a very large sum of money, and sent an officer and a hundred soldiers to enforce his de mand. The prefect had not the raoney : the con sequence was, he was marched off to the H6tel de Ville, where General Muffling kept him prisoner, intending, the following raorning, to send hira to Berlin as a hostage untU the raoney was paid into the Prussian treasury, Dr Keate in Paris, — Every one has heard 208 DOCTOR KEATE IN PARIS, of the faraous Dr Busby, head-raaster of West minster, who, while shewing Charles II, over the school, apologised to that merry raonarch for keep ing his hat on in the presence of royalty ; " for," said he, " it would not do for ray boys to suppose that there existed in the world a greater raan than Dr Busby," He was notorious for his Spartan dis cipline, and constantly acted up to the old adage of not sparing the rod and spoiling the boy. He was once invited, during a residence at Deal, by an old Westminster — ^who, from being a very idle, well- flogged boy, had, after a course of distinguished service, been naraed to the coraraand of a fine frigate in the DoAvns — to visit him on board his ship. The Doctor accepted the invitation ; and, after he had got up the ship's side, the captain piped aU hands for punishment, and said to the astonished Doctor, " You d d old scoundrel, I am delighted to have the opportunity of paying you off at last. Here, boatswain, give him three dozen," The old pupUs of Dr Keate in Paris, soon after Waterloo, raany of whom had suffered at least as much at his hands as the rancorous sea-captain had at Dr Busby's, received their former peda gogue in a far different raanner. He had been seen, to our great astonishraent, eating an ice at Torloni's on the Boulevards, and we determined to give him a dinner at BeauviUiers', the best dining-place iu Paris, and far superior to anything of the kind in the present day. The inviters were, Lord Sunderland, (the late Duke of Marlborough,) Lord James Stuart, Crosbie, (the private secretary of the Ambassador,) CartAvright, Tierney, De Ros, Baring Wall, myself, and two or DOCTOR KEATE IN PARIS, 209 three whose names I forget. We had ordered a most excellent dinner, and I never witnessed a more jovial banquet. The Doctor evinced his ap preciation of the dinner and wines in a manner most gratifying to his hosts ; ate as if he had never eaten before, and paid his addresses, in large bumpers, to every description of wine ; and, toAvards the end of the dinner, expressed his delight at finding that his old friends and pupils had not forgotten hira ; concluding " a neat and appropriate speech" with " Floreat Etona," After drinking his health, as the bottle passed gaily round, we took the opportunity of giving hira a little innocent "chaff," rerainding hira of his heavy hand and arbitrary manner of pro ceeding. We told him how two of the masters, Drury and EJnapp, contrived, without his know ledge, to go up to London every Saturday to dine with Arnold and Kean at Drury Lane. We spoke of Sumner's flirtation with the fair Martha at Spiers's ; of Mike Fitzgerald tripping up Plumptree the master on his way to six-o'clock school ; of Cornwall's fight Avith the bargee ; of Lumley's poaching in Windsor Park ; of our constant suppers at the Christopher ; of our getting out at night ; of our tandera-driving ; and raany other little epi sodes, to shew that his Argus eyes were not always open. The Doctor took our jokes in good part, and in his turn told us that, if he had a regret, it was that he had not flogged ns a good deal more ; but he felt certain that the discipline had done us a great deal of good : he then concluded by paying us all compliments in a few well-turned phrases. We heartily cheered his address, and parted on 0 210 SHAVING IN A MINUTE, excellent terras, highly gratified with our evening's entertamment. Keate was a very short, thickset man, with a red face and a stentorian voice. The very sight of the cocked hat he always wore, placed, front ways on his head, like that of the Emperor Napo leon, struck terror into the hearts of aU offenders. However, in spite of his severity, he was generally liked by the boys at Eton, and was a thoroughly honourable aud upright man. He had been in his youth a capital fighter, was an exceUent scholar, and an admirable writer of Latin verse, A well- known copy of verses on the Greek drama, written by him, are considered the finest Alcaics since the days of Horace, Every old Etonian of his time must haA'e felt hurt that the Whig government should not have thought fit to name Keate provost of Eton, in the room of Dr Goodall ; and we aU thought it very hard that he should have left the school Avithout any recognition or acknowledgment of his long and arduous services. Shaving in a Minute, and Colonel Ellison, — About twelve o'clock, on the second day after the battle of Waterloo, when on our march to Paris, we were ordered to corae to a halt. Every officer and soldier iraraediately set to work to get rid of the superabundance of beard which had been suffered to grow for several days. During this not very agreeable duty, a shout was heard from Lord Saltoun, who called us to witness a bet he had made with Bob Ellison, that he, Ellison, could, not shave off his beard in one minute. Preparations were raade, Ellison taking care to SHAVING IN A MINUTE, 211 bathe his face for a considerable tirae in Avater. He then coraraenced operations, and in less than a rainute, and Avithout the aid of a looking-glass, actuaUy Avon his bet, (a considerable one,) to the astonishraent, and, I raust add, the satisfaction of his corarades. This feat appeared to us all perfectly irapossible to accoraplish, as his face was covered with the stubble of a week's groAvth of hair, so dark that it had procured for hira in the regiraent the sobriquet of Black Bob, EUison was one of our best officers. After join ing the brigade at Cadiz, he was present in every action in the Peninsula, and was with the light corapanies at Hougouraont, He greatly distin guished himself there ; and on one occasion, when he was forced to retreat frora the orchard to the chateau, he would have been bayoneted by the French, had not the raen, with whora he was a great favourite, charged back, and saved his life, Ellison led the storraing party at Peronne, and coraraanded the second battalion of his regiraent in Canada. He was colonel of his old battalion in 1843 ; when, at a brigade field-day in Hyde Park, on the occasion of a general salute, as he gave the word " Present arras," he dropped down dead frora his horse, while the old corps, in which he had passed nearly forty years, were presenting arras to him. All who knew hira AviU bear Avitness with me to his many amiable and exceUent qualities. In his younger days he was reraarkably good-looking, and he had stUl preserved his handsorae face and kindly, expressive eye. Though quick and clever, no one ever heard hira say a raalevolent or ill-natured thing. If there was a good turn to be done, or a 212 THE DUKE AND MR CEEEVEY, friendly word to be spoken, Black Bob Avas first and foremost ; and in looking back on the old friends and comrades of bygone days, I feel there is not one I could narae Avho was raore deservedly popular or raore generaUy regretted than Colonel Ellison, The Duke and Mr Creevey, — The late Mr Creevey, the well-known Whig M.P., stated in my presence, at a dinner at Lord Darnley 's, in Berkeley Square, in 1816, that he was at the Duke of Wel lington's quarters at Brussels the night of the battle of Waterloo, It was late when the Duke entered, and, perceiAdng Mr Creevey, shook him by the hand, and said, " I have won the greatest battle of raodern times, Avith twelve thousand of ray old Peninsular troops," Creevey reraarked that he was astonished at that, and asked, " What, sir, with twelve thousand only V " Yes, Creevey," replied the Duke ; " with twelve thousand of my old Spanish infantry, I kncAv I could depend upon thera. They fought the battle, without flinching, against iraraense odds ; but nearly all ray staff, and some of my best friends, are kUled. Good-night ! I Avant rest, and must go to bed," Creevey called at an early hour on the foUowing morning, in the hope of again seeing the Duke, but he had left Brussels before daylight, to join the array, I do not pretend to say what the Duke meant in his conversation with Mr Creevey, — who was truth itself, — and I am equally certain that I am correctly relating what he said, for the statement made a great irapression on rae. He must have meant that the victory was raainly owing to the twelve thou- THE DUKE'S EAZOES— MDLLE. MAES. 213 sand veterans ; for, as near as I could raake out, there were on our side at Waterloo about forty- five thousand English and Hanoverians, and twenty thousand Dutch, Belgian, and Nassau troops. The Duke's Razors. — My friend, George Sraythe, the late Lord Strangford, once told me that, staying at Walraer Castle with the Duke of Wellington, the Duke informed him, one raorning at breakfast, that he was obliged to go up to London imraediately, as aU his razors required setting, but he would be back to dinner. Lord Strangford very naturally offered to lend the Duke his razors, which, luckily for the Duke, he did not accept ; for Lord S., who was soraewhat careless about his personal appear ance, shaA'ed with razors soraething like rainiature saws, which raade one shudder to look at. Lord S. then offered to take the razors to Dover, but the Duke replied — "The man who always sharpens my razors has sharpened thera for raany years : I would not trust thera with any one else. He lives in Jerrayn Street, and there they raust go. So you see, Strangford, every raan has a weak point, and ray weak point is about the sharpening of ray razors. Perhaps you are not aware that I shave myself, and brush ray own clothes : I regret that I cannot clean ray own boots ; for raen-servants bore rae, and the presence of a crowd of idle fellows annoys rae raore than I can teU you," Mademoiselle Mars, — ^I did not see the cele brated MUe, Mars till she was already in the sere and yellow leaf, as far as her personal attractions werp 214 MADEMOISELLE MAES, concerned ; but I confess I have doubts as to her ever having been handsorae. Her features did not bear any trace of past beauty, and her figure had lost all the slightness of youth. The process of dressing her for the stage Avas a long and painful one, and was said to have been done by degrees, beginning at early dawn ; the tightening being gradually intensified until the stage hour, when it has been ruraoured that the finale was accoraplished by the maid's foot being placed in the small of the lady's back, and that thus the last vigorous haul was given to the refractory stay-lace. In spite of this suffering for form's sake, I confess that it re quired more powers of imagination than I possessed to fancy that the square-built, wrinkled woraan was a beautiful young girl of seventeen : for she almost always appeared in very youthful parts — what are called rdles de jeune premiere. MUe, Mars had preserved, when I first saw her, very fine black hair, white and even teeth, and a voice of surpassing sweetness. Her diction was perfect ; and she possessed, above aU other actresses, that knowledge of the stage, and that deUcacy of touch, which gave just the right inflexion to each point, and no raore. In her acting there was never the slightest straining after effect, — or rather, I should say, the effect was produced without any apparent effort, — and she spoke her part just as a lady raight raake a witty, or piquant, or pathetic remark in her drawing-room : every movement Avas intensely studied, but seemed perfectly natural. Her voice was mellow and A'aried in its tones, Anthout any of those sudden changes in vogue now-a-days, which seera more like A'entriloquism than acting. MADEMOISELLE EACHEL. 215 There was a certain chaste reserve even in the scenes of passionate love, and propriety observed even in the most risque passages. One Avas charmed, melted, touched, rather than powerfully raoved, MUe. Mars Avas a woraan of superior education and refined raanners. Many persons of aristocratic birth felt theraselves honoured in being received in her salon which Avas the rendezvous of the 6lite of the artistic world. There reigned that easy, cour teous bon-ton which has almost become a tradi tionary legend both in England and France, The drawing-roora was a school for good raanners and good French ; and the lady of the house, though affable and kind to aU, knew well how to keep her guests in order, MUe, Mars, though not altogether immaculate, had never run to the excess of riot so comraon to many persons of her profession in those days, and she had preserved a tolerably fair reputa tion. Amongst the A-ery few persons supposed to be on terms of great intimacy with this celebrated actress was the Count de M , a weU-known dandy of the Restoration, He divided his attentions between the Duchesse de R and MUe, Mars, who were both a long way on the shady side of forty, and was known by the sobriquet of I'homme du siecle : a narae which had been bestowed on Napo leon for very different reasons. To sum up, I should be disposed to say that MUe, Mars had more grace and charm than beauty, raore talent and savoir faire than bond-fide genius. Her raost touching personation was perhaps " Valerie," or the blind girl. Mademoiselle Rachel, — One cannot imagine a 216 MADEMOISELLE EACHEL, raore striking contrast than that between MUes, Mars and Rachel, each perfect and without a rival in her separate departraent, I confess that my own taste was far more gratified by wdtnessing the per forraance of La Grande Tragedienne in sorae of her parts, than it CA'er was by the more pohshed but colder talent of MUe, Mars ; which charraed, but did not carry you away on the wings of enthusiasm, Rachel, in her raoraents of passionate declamation, bore all before her, as in a whirlwind. The specta tors could not calmly criticise — they could only admire and weep, I cannot conceive anything raore splendid than Rachel's personification of "Phfedre," She looked the very woraan consumed by her guilty passion, pursued by an avenging deity, the prey of conflict ing powers struggling for mastery in that poor wasted bosora. The fire of unhallowed passion seeraed to burn in her dark, hollow eyes, — ^the anguish and hurailiation of rejected love to crush to the earth that frail , forra, — the gnaAving of reraorse to eat into her very heart. Those who have not seen Rachel in "Phfedre" can have no conception of what she was as an actress : the dignity and grace of her bearing in the first scenes, contrasted with her passionate despair in the latter part, which at last found vent, each syllable forcing itself through her clenched teeth, as if the very words scorched her Ups, In those parts which brought into play her powers of fascination, such as "Adrienne Lecouvreur," and others, nothing could be raore coquettishly attractive, raore irresistibly winning, than Rachel. Her deep rich voice had an inexpressible charm MADEMOISELLE EACHEL 217 when softened into tenderness, and she possessed such a peculiar talent for enveloping her raeagre figure in fleecy clouds of gauze and rauslin, and decking it Avith roAvs of gold ornaraents and pearls, that every raan at the end of the performance thought his AA-ife or mistress too much developed in figure, AvhUst every woraan for the raoraent Avished she were as devoid of all protuberances as the fair tragedian, I have had the pleasure of frequently meeting Rachel in society, and certainly it was impossible to have seen any one more high-bred in appearance, dress, and manner. There was nothing exagge rated in her style of dress, which was always of rich materials, but in perfect taste. She generaUy, in order to conceal the excessive spareness of her form, wore a high gown, fitting tight round the long, slight throat, and faUing in heavy folds ; the lace coUar being fastened by some costly ornament. Her head, which was beautifully shaped, was generaUy adorned only by her thick waving hair. Her eyes were very deeply set, and too jet black to be soft or pleasing ; her profile was regular in its outline, but her face was long and narrow, and bore evident traces of its JcAvish origin. She had very smaU, weU-forraed hands, Avith long, thin, tajDor fingers, and pink nails remarkably bien soignis. Her raanner in a drawing-roora was particularly quiet, pleasing, and ladyUke, She was neither forward nor servUe ; never forcing herself on any one's acquaintance, and jet never accepting a position of humiliation, I could corapletely understand how thoroughly English society had been taken in during her first 218 MADEMOISELLE RACHEL. visit to London, and how the most strait-laced dowagers had invited her, almost on a footing of intimacy, to their houses and select parties. It is true that she had not then completely thrown aU appearance of propriety to the winds, as in her later career, I think I may say, without subjecting myself to any accusation of scandal or exaggeration, that no woraan ever went beyond Rachel in immo rality. I have heard men say that it was just that con trast between her "company" manners, so distin guished, graceful, and dignified, and the coarse ribald tone which she assumed when at ease with her boon companions, that fascinated them. She raust have studied vice as another raight have studied virtue, and instead of feigning to appear better than she reaUy was, it seeraed to be her glory to show to her admirers the darkest shades of her character, and make them kneel doAvn and worship the idol of mud they had set up, Rachel exercised a wonderful power OA-er numer ous admirers, whom she took no pains to bUnd or to deceive. One day the Count D — — , one of the raost agreeable and gentlemanUke of the ilegants of that epoch, who had been for sorae tirae in her good graces, caUed to see MUe, Rachel by appoint raent. He was told that she was not visible ; but from what he overheard, he had reason to beUeve that a certain Ulustrious prince was at that very raoraent shut up in her boudoir. Forced to retreat. Count D raet Rachel's physician, who was coraing in, and poured forth such a voUey of invec tives as led Dr X to imagine that all was at an end, and that D 's eyes were opened at last. SIR JAjSIES KEMPT AND MR DAVIES, 219 He congratulated his friend, terminating with the truly French phrase, '• Que voulez-vous, mon cher ami 1 c'est une ignoble creature !" to which D echoed back AAdth a second torrent of abuse, touching especially on the lady's physical defects. He then shook hands with X , and quickly added in an under-tone, " Je reviendrai ce soir!" Rachel had some redeeming points. She Avas extreraely kind to her poor relations, and if a case of real distress was placed before her she would give generously and without ostentation. Sir James Kempt and Mr Davies, — General Sir Jaraes Kerapt, who died at a very advanced age about ten or twelve years since, refused at different tiraes the high posts of Coraraander-in-Chief in India, and Coraraander-in-Chief in England ; and, I have heard, even that of Governor-General. His great abiUties and bravery were only equalled by his raodesty and siraplicity of raanners. It is said that he began life as a clerk at Greenwood's, the array agent's, and for his good conduct was recommended for a commission in the army. The Duke of York took a great fancy to Kempt, and put hira into one of our crack fighting regi ments, where, if a man was not knocked on the head, he was sure to make his way, Kerapt greatly distinguished hiraself, and rose rapidly to the highest honours of the profession. When Kerapt was at Greenwood's, Mr Davies was the principal clerk of the establishment, and it happened that a brother of the latter was a tailor in Cork Street, Burlington Gardens, with a very large and lucrative trade. The tailor died suddenly, and Davies, who was his 220 THE CORN-LAW RIOTS. sole heir, abandoned his clerkship and succeeded his brother in the business, so that the junior clerk at Greenwood's house became a General, and the senior official sunk into the ninth part of a raan. The Corn-Law Riots and Lord Castlereagh, — When I call to mind the dangerous state of the country at that time, the very bad feeling of the people towards the upper classes, the want of em ployment in the raanufacturing districts, and the great misery all over England from the high price of bread, — when I recollect, at the sarae time, the total absence of any sort of police, and the small mUitary force we possessed, I ara astonished that some fatal catastrophe did not occur in the years immediately following the war. Those who reraeraber the Luddite riots, the Corn- Law riots, the Spitalfields meetings, and other public demonstrations of a people driven to raad- ness by every sort of oppression, AviU agree with me in thinking that those were days of great peril, I recoUect, during the Corn-Law riots in London, having walked from St James's Palace (where I was on guard) to St James's Square. I there beheld, coUected together, thousands of the loAvest of the London rabble. These ruffians, with loud shouts, and threats of sumraary vengeance on the Ministers, were at the tirae I arrived breaking the windows of raost of the houses in the square. The Life Guards Avere patrolling in the neighbouring streets, and, whenever they appeared, were received with volleys of stones mingled with raud, and cries of "Down with the Piccadilly butchers!" The raob was cA'i- dently bent on raore mischief, and I beheld one THEN AND NOW, 221 man exciting the crowd to force the doors of the Bishop of London's residence. As the feUow was raaking a rush against it, I told hira to desist, or I Avould immediately run my sword through his body. This threat had the effect of calming the gentleman's ardour ; he skulked aAvay, and was soon lost in the crowd. I was afterAvards returning toAvards King Street, when I was accosted by Lord Castlereagh, He thanked me for the energy I had displayed, but recommended a little raore discretion in future ; "for the mob," said he, " is not so dangerous as you think," This remarkable man was quietly looking on AvhUe his windows were being broken by these ruffians, I see him before me now, dressed in a blue coat buttoned up to the chin, a blue sponsor, kerseymere breeches, long gaiters, shoes covered by galoshes, and a white neckcloth. He was a par ticularly handsome man, possessed great pluck and energy, and on this occasion appeared perfectly calm and unconcerned, and not in the slightest de gree ruffled by the popular excesses and the abuse which was UberaUy heaped upon hiraself and his colleagues in the governraent. Then and Now, — Perhaps it is because I am growing old, and woman has less power to charm than heretofore ; but, whatever may be the reason, I cannot help thinking that, in " the merry days when I was young," or "in ray hot youth, when George the Third was king," the woraen of England were more beautiful, better bred, and raore distinguished in appearance, and, above all, in raanner, than they are now-a-clays. How grand they used to look, 222 THEN AND NOW, Avith their taU, stately forras, sraaU, thoroughbred heads, and long, flowing ringlets, drearalike fair, and queenly as Ossian's fabled daughters ! You could not help feeling somewhat elated and self- satisfied, if perchance one of those sidelong glances, half-proud, half-bashful, like a petted child's, fell upon you, leaving you sUent and pensive, fuU of hopes and meraories. Egad! it was worth being loved by such woraen as those ! And if there were then, as now, tales of sin and sharae, there were also the extenuating circurastances of strong tempta tion, o\-erwhelming passion, self-sacrffice, remorse : often the blighted heart and early grave^ — things alraost unknown in these days of flirtation and fri volity, I do not raean to say that there are not now, as there always have been in every state of society, beautiful and araiable woraen, corabining good sense and high principle ; but there are too raany who seem to have taken for their ideal a soraething between the dashing London horse-breaker and some Parisian artiste dramatique of a third-rate theatre; the object of whose ambition is to be mistaken for a femme du demi-monde, to be insulted when they walk out with their petticoats girt up to their knees, shewing (to do thera justice) reraarkably pretty feet and legs, and to wearing wide-awake hats over painted cheeks and brows, and walk with that indescribable, jaunty, " devil-may-care" look which is considered "the right thing" now-a-daj's, — to raake sporting bets, — to address men as Jack, Tom, or Harry, — to ride ahead in the Park, — to call the paterfamilias " governor," and the lady mother "the old party," — to talk of the young men who THEN AND NOW. 223 "spoon" thera, and discuss with them the merits of "Skittles" and her horses, or the last scandalous story fabricated in the bay Avindow at White's, the very faintest allusion to Avhich Avould have made their raothers' hair stand on end Avith disraay and horror: — this is to be pleasant, and "fast," and arausing. The young lady, Avho is weak enough to blush if addressed rather too famUiarly, and so unwise as to ignore the existence of les dames aux camelias is called " slow," and distanced alto gether : in the London steeplechase after husbands she is "noAA-here" — an outsider — a feraale muff. The girl of the year 1862 who is not "fast" is generally duU and hlasie pleased with nothing, and possesses neither the wisdom of age nor the naivete of youth, I have often heard discussions on the corapara- tive degrees of worldliness in London and Parisian society. It has been my lot in my day to raingle rauch in both, and I should be inclined to bestow the pahn for frivolity on our volatile neighbours the French, and adjudge to ray own countryworaen that of worldliness. In Paris, the atraosphere is hght, clear, and briUiant ; conversation free and easy ; and the people really love pleasure for plea sure's sake, Frora the dapper little grisette in her neat caUco gown and tidy cap, who accompanies her favourite Studiant Leon Lionceau to the Closerie des Lilas, and winds up with cold veal, salad, and beer, at six in the raorning, in her beloved's garret on the sixth story, to the high-bred Coratesse, who, after a round of balls, " coraes to charapagne and a chicken at last " at the Maison Doric Avith that raag nificent dandy, Athur de Crfevecoeur, it is aU the sarae 224 THEN AND NOW, raad, and, to a certain degree, successful hunt after arausement, Vive le plaiser ! is the cry of the Parisian population. They invoke it, and it does come ; they grasp the shadow of it as it flies rapidly along ; and they would sell the soul (of Avhose exist ence they doubt) for that day of pleasure in which they fully believe. As far as they can manage it, they strive to make life one joyous holiday. Now the good Londoners do not seem as if they expected to be amused. As Froissart said of them five hundred years ago, "they take their pleasure sadly," with long faces and lugubrious voices, set to a particular whining tone, Mrs Danby Tre- mayne comes up for the London season, hires a house in Lower Grosvenor Street, very dark, very dirty, very dear, and nurtures in her expansive bosom the stern determination "to go everywhere," — that is, within the range of the charraed circle yclept good society, Mrs Danby Tremayne would be unspeakably wretched if her narae and those of all her daughters who have been presented, did not figure in the colurans of the Morning Post. In spite of her antiquated notions concerning the propriety of deportraent and raodesty of speech becoraing youthful raaidens, she would force those shy, demure, straight-laced, red-elbowed damsels, to frisk about, talk slang, and wear Avide-awakes, and praise Anonyma, if by these raeans she could get an invitation to House, or see the faintest chance of capturing sorae fast young lord, Araelia, Countess of Crinoline, who is on the wrong side of fifty, is worn to a shadow in run ning after what is caUed pleasure. She considers herself in duty bound to shew her poor hollow THEN AND NOW. 225 cheeks and skinny shoulders everywhere, lest it should be said that she is voted an "old party," and only asked to "rococo" druras. That worn- out, painted old harridan. Lady Rattlesnake, whose daughters, ay, and grand-daughters too, are all married, and going their melancholy rounds on their own account, takes possession of sorae hand sorae, but friendless darasel, and uses her as a decoy to obtain invitations and an arra to lean upon and throw her cloak over her gaunt shoul ders. And woe betide the poor dependent girl if the expected civiUties are wanting, and the good- looking young guardsraan, who delights to gaze into Isabella's bright eyes and whisper soft non sense in her ear, should rebel at finding hiraself com peUed to make the agreeable and give his arra to the Avithered old rauraray, call her carriage, &c, &c. Should he take himself off, muttering, "This won't pay," the ancient dowager on her way horae snubs poor IsabeUa, accuses her of being slow, stupid, unattractive, and so on ; and the wretched girl, as she throws her beautiful head wearUy back on the cushions, murmurs to herself, echoing the deAdl's whisper, "I have not been fast enough to please him this evening ; but to-morrow he will hand out Lady Rattlesnake with all the ardour of a youthful lover," In London in bygone days a worldly man or woman woiUd, Avithout scruple, cut their father or mother did they not belong to the particular set which they considered good society, Mr S Avas once riding in the Park many years ago with the Marquis of C , then one of the kings of the p 226 THEN AND NOW, fashionable world, and some other dandies of that day, when they met a respectable-looking elderly man, who nodded soraewhat farailiarly to S . Who 's your friend 1 " drawled Lord C- "Thatl" replied S , "oh, a very good sort of a fellow, one of ray Cheshire farmers," It was his own father ; a most amiable and excellent man, and who' had better blood in his veins, and a larger fortune, than any of the lordlings by whom his unworthy son was surrounded, A celebrated leader of fashion. Lady X , never asked her own mother, a well-born and well-conducted, but somewhat eccentric person, to any of her parties : she ignored her very existence ; and yet she was by nature a kind, well-meaning, and good-natured woman. But the world's canker had eaten into her heart. In these days of railways and monster parties, the folly of exclusiveness has very rauch died away : cutting near relatives is out of fashion — it is un necessary in the whirl and bustle of life. There is little chance of race ting those we do not seek; and there is raore self-respect araong those who do not belong to the upper ten thousand, Jones does not care one straw whether young Lord Popinjay cuts hira or not. He has his own circle of admirers — his own particular sumraer and winter toady. He is a much better-looking fellow ; and while Popinjay is sending Perdita or Imogen Kettledrum enormous bouquets, and catching cold under her window, the handsome Jones is snugly ensconced in the lady's boudoir, eating pigeon-pie and mimicking the unlucky lord. Miss Jackson, if a pretty girl, a good dancer, and showy rider, will have more part- THEN AND NOW, 227 ners and invitations than Lady Araminta Drystick, with her ancient pedigree and aristocratic airs. How unspeakably odious — with a few brUliant exceptions, such as Alvanley and others — were the dandies of forty years ago. They were a motley crew, Avith nothing remarkable about thera but their insolence. They were generaUy not high-born, nor rich, nor very good-looking, nor clever, nor agreeable ; and why they arrogated to themselves the right of setting up their own fancied superiority on a self-raised pedestal, and despising their betters. Heaven only knows. They were generally middle- aged, sorae even elderly raen, had large appetites and weak digestions, garabled freely, and had no luck. They hated everybody, and abused every body, and would sit together in White's bay win dow, or the pit boxes at the Opera, weaving tremendous crammers. They swore a good deal, never laughed, had their own particular slang, looked hazy after dinner, and had most of them been patronised at one tirae or other by Brurarael and the Prince Regent, These gentlemen were very fond of haAdng a butt. Many years ago Tom Raikes fiUed this capacity ; though he did kick out soraetiraes, and to some purpose. They gloried in their shame, and believed in nothing good, or noble, or elevated. Thank Heaven, that miserable race of used-up dandies has long been extinct ! May England never look upon their hke again ! With regard to France, I should say that the general run of French dandies now-a-days is a sorry mixture of coxcombry and snobbishness. Young France thinks he has done wonders when he ha.=5 228 THEN AND NOW, ascended the giddy height of a hideous dog-cart. with a gigantic groom fastened on behind by some mysterious adhesive process, which does not seem altogether to reassure John, (aU Frenchraen's grooms rejoice in this appellation ; be their naraes Pierre or Paul, when once they put on leathers and boots they becorae John,) Another amuseraent of the Parisian elegants which surprises Englishmen, is to drive about in solitary glory in a brougham or barouche and pair. You see fifteen-stone men, Avith tremen dous whiskers and raoiistaches, who ought to be taking violent exercise on horseback or on foot, driven up and doAvn the fashionable proraenade by the lake in the Bois de Boulogne, lolling on weU- stuffed rose-coloured cushions, and ogUng through their eye-glasses the fair and frail damsels in gor geous equipages who frequent this drive. What used to be called, thirty or forty years ago, la jeunesse doree may now be terraed la jeunesse Ruoltz, a base imitation of the precious raetal : and this term weU explains the difference that exists between the dandies of the olden tirae and the wretched swells of the present day, Forraerly, if young men were guUty of foUies, those foUies were coraraitted with sorae energy, enjoyraent, and zest, and that ardour and entrain which accounts for, if it does not excuse thera ; but now they take their pleasure sadly, soberly, and stupidly, as if, when they ruin theraselves at their clubs, at baccarat or quinze, or in giving horses and India shawls and diamonds to some fashionable Phryne, they were performing some painful but necessary duty. They are hlasSs and ennuyts and, above all, ennuyeux. Forraerly, one used to hear, in the scandalous THEN AND NOW. 229 tittle-tattle of the day, that Monsieur X was desperately in love with MaderaoiseUe- but now, aU that is ever said is that " an intrigue is being carried on," or that "such and such a lady has captured her prey," "And is Monsieur X also very rauch enaraoured?" I once in quired. The answer was, " II subit courageusement son bonheur." I heard the other day a good story of a well- known Frenchman, M, de St , having fallen in love with the not very attractive wife of a great financier. The various phases of his courtship were of course related to the half-dozen intiraate rayr- midons who surround every Frenchman of note in the fashionable world, and who echo back his opinions Uke the chorus in a Greek tragedy. One day this select circle see M, de St arrive with a face expressive of the deepest disraay. He sinks into a chair apparently quite overAvhelmed, and hides his face in his handkerchief, "What has happened 1" asks the chorus, "Has she proved faithless 1 are you betrayed V What pen could render the look of despair, which formed a ludicrous contrast with M, de St 's somewhat bacchan alian features, as he shrieked out, "Mes amis, je suis perdu! eUe ra'a pris au serieux!" This rerainds rae of a triUy French story, of a raan who, after a long siege, had at last obtained the promise of a reward for his patience and per severance ; but there was one condition — ^he must take his solemn oath, sur Tdme de sa m^re, that he would never breathe the tale of his success to mortal ear. The Frenchman was honest, and frankly answered, " J'airae mieux m'en aller ;" in other 230 THEN AND NOW. words, " What would be the use of a bonne fortune if I ara to keep it to rayself?" I reraember an amusing adventure happening to my friend the Count de M , then an homme d bonnes fortunes with beautiful fair hair and a light active figure, but now an elderly gentleman, some what bald, and very stout. He was, I am sorry to say, paying an evening Adsit to a fair lady during her husband's absence, when that gentleman unex pectedly returned, and the room having only one door, which was to give ingress to the jealous hus-' band, the gaUant gay Lothario, after looking wildly round the room for a hiding-place, took refuge in a large old-fashioned clock-case which stood in a corner of the room. There he ensconced himself; and, as his entry stopped the pendulum, he tried with his tongue against his palate to imitate the ticking noise of the clock ; hoping that the hus band would raake a short stay, and that he would be soon released frora his uncorafortable situation. But that gentleman, who had been privately warned by an anonymous letter that all was not right at horae, shewed no syraptoras of moving from the large arm-chair, just in front of the clock, where he had taken up his position. My unfortunate friend could no longer keep on the clicking noise, — his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, — and he had to keep sUence, The husband arose, cry ing out to his wife, " Chere amie, the clock is stopped : I raust wind it up," Before the lady could arrest his progress, he had opened the door and found the young Lovelace tightly wedged in. "What are you doing there, you Adllain'?" shouted THEN AND NOW, 231 the enraged husband, "Je me prom^ne," replied the young raan. One raore anecdote of la jeunesse Ruoltz. A lady of certain virtue, and uncertain age, had been courted by a young "fashionable" in a moment of d&soRUvrement in a country house. The lady was flattered, and at last fell in love, but held out for a tirae, when one fine day, as the gentleraan was languidly pressing his suit, she exclairaed, throwing herself on his neck in an agony of tears, " Eh bien, Raoul, je rae darane pour toi!" "Et raoi, je rae sauve !" responded the terrified Lovelace ; and, seizing his hat, he rushed to the stable, mounted his horse, and was never seen or heard of again. Talking of Lovelaces, there was a rather amusing story of my old friend, Dan M'Kinnon of the Guards, to whom I have already alluded. He was very good-looking, and a great favourite with the fair sex ; and, at the time of which I speak, raany, raany years ago, he was beloved by Miss C ; and ill- natured people said that they " loved not wisely, but too weU," Unfortunately people don't faU simultaneously out of love as they do into it, and, as generally occurs, the lady proved the raost faith ful of the pau-. When Miss C could no longer doubt that she was forsaken, and that some more fortunate rival had taken her place, she wrote a letter full of despair and reproaches, with threats of suicide, comraanding M'Kinnon to send her back the lock of hair which she had given hira in happier days, &c. The barbarian gave no written answer to this passionate appeal, but sent his orderly to the lady, (who was a person of high birth and aristo cratic connexions,) with a large packet or portfolio 232 SUMNER, AND OTHER ETON MASTERS. containing innumerable locks of hair, frora gray to flaxen, frora raven to red, with a raessage that she was to choose from among thera her own property. Miss C 's answer was to dash the whole collec tion into the fire, Sumner, and other Eton Masters. — When I was a boy at Eton, now, alas ! raany, many years ago, by far the most popular tutor was Dr Sumner, whose loss as Archbishop of Canterbury we have lately had to deplore. This most able and exceUent man went by the name of "Crurapety Sumner," whether from some fancied resemblance in his fine open countenance to that farinaceous esculent, or from sorae episode of his raore youthful days, I waa never able to discover ; but I can safely say that no one was more universally beloved throughout the precincts of the venerable coUege of Henry VI, than he was. This respected Eton tutor, after passing through many intermediary posts of great utUity and im portance, became primate of England, with the applause of all who had at any time been brought Avithin the sphere of his beneficent influence. He was at once the raost learned, able, and at the same tirae the raost modest and unpretending of men. Though he lived to a great age, his mind was vigorous to the last, and he preserved all the fire and energy which distinguished him in youth, and which was always exercised for sorae useful and benevolent purpose. Peace to his ashes ! I feel proud to have knoAvn hira, memor actce non alio rege puertice, and regret to think that so much of SUMNER, AND OTHER ETON MASTERS. 233 his advice and example should not have brought better fruit in rae. But I had very different examples in other tutors Avho were contemporaries of Sumner. Two of them, Drury and Knapp, were good-natured men enough, but passionately devoted to theatricals. Instead of gratifying this taste by burning midnight oU in their chambers in the perusal of .ffischylus, Sophocles, and other great masters of the Greek drama, they used to start for London after school, to get in time for the theatre, and passed their nights in jovial suppers with that great but eccentric genius, Edmund Kean, They terminated these Uttle expeditions by driAdng back, with very bad headaches, (for Edmund always "forswore thin potations,") in a vehicle the very sight of which would have struck horror into "Henry's holy shade," could he or it have beheld two Eton tutors in a curricle. Nothing was ever seen like it since the faraous "patres conscripti took a boat and went to PhiUppi ;" and I can only account for their predUection in favour of this particular vehicle, by a classical remembrance of the third Une of the First Ode of Horace, " Sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olyrapicura." The pulverem Olympicum was on this occasion the Slough road. One fine day, these jovial pedagogues, unmindful of the adage of " Maxima sit puero reverentia," took Avith them two of my chums, John Scott, the son of Lord Eldon, and Lord Sunderland, the late Duke of Marlborough, The curricles were again brought into play, and they arrived in a few hours at the Hummums, a famous hotel in Covent Garden, where Kean had ordered dinner. 234 COUNT MONTROND, With such an exaraple as the great actor, it is no wonder that they drank pretty freely ; and as every one did in those joAdal days, they sallied out after dinner in search of adventures. They created such a disturbance, that, after several chivalrous encounters with the watchraen, they were taken to Bow Street, and had to be bailed out of durance Adle by the secretary of the aU-powerful Chancellor, who had been apprised of their raishap. This in cident created much scandal. The two tutors were threatened with the loss of their places, and clerical degradation ; but Lord Eldon, who was no enemy to a bottle of port, threw over them the mantle of his protection, and they got off without incurring the punishraent they so richly deserved. Count Montrond. — This well-known personage belonged to a good family, and had already taken his place in the best French society before the first Revolution, He Avas an inveterate gambler, rarely lost, and lived like a raan possessed of a large fortune. When very young, at the court of Marie- Antoinette, a certain Monsieur de Champagne, an officer of the Guards, who was playing at cards Avith him, said, "Monsieur, vous trichez." Montrond answered, with the sang-froid Avhich distinguished him through life under every circumstance, "C'est possible ; mais je n'airae pas qu'on rae le dise," and threw the cards in Charapagne's face. They fought next raorning with SAVords, and Montrond was run through the body. He was con fined to his bed for two months, but when he got well again, called out Monsieur de Charapagne, and, although he received another wound, succeeded in COUNT MONTROND. 235 killing his adversary. This duel set hira up in tho world as a dangerous raan to meddle with, and saved him from raany insults, to which his very suspicious luck at play would have exposed hira. TaUeyrand said, d propos of this, " II vit sur son raort," Montrond Avas thrown into prison during the reign of terror. For raany days he expected every raorning to be his last ; and he used to relate that he had observed that those who shewed themselves much at the Avindows, or talked to the sentry through the bars, were generaUy caUed for the next morning to be guUlotined, He in consequence kept hiraself very rauch in the background, and reraained at last with only one companion, an old lady, in his ceU, One raorning he heard so great a noise in the street, that he, Avith his usual caution, persuaded his corapanion to speak to the sentry, who said, "Robespierre is dead — you will soon be free !" He was released very shortly afterwards, and became intimate with Barras, and other leading raen of that tirae. He shortly afterwards forraed that intiraacy with Prince TaUeyrand which lasted through life. On one occasion the prince, who was at that tirae rainister for foreign affairs under Napo leon, gave Montrond some information which enabled hira to gain twenty thousand pounds on the Bourse, When this lucky coup had been achieved, TaUey rand said to him, "My dear Montrond, now you have got a large sum of money, you must think of iuA'esting it. Where wiU you place it V " Place it ! why, in my desk, to be sure," Montrond was always very iraprovident, and spent during his life enorraous suras of money. He was always much disliked by the Emperor Napo- 236 COUNT MONTROND. leon I., partly, it was said, frora his being supposed to be an adrairer of one of the iraperial princesses, and partly owing to sorae kind friend having re peated bon-mots raade upon raajesty itself: for his bitter and sarcastic wit spared no one. In spite of this dislike, strange to say, he was selected by FouchI, in 1815, during the Hundred Days, when all other negotiations had failed, to undertake a raission as confidential as it was difficult. He was to start for Vienna under an assumed name, giving hiraself out to be a learned botanist, and try to Avin over Prince Tallej'rand, pacify Prince Metter- nich, and, if possible, persuade the Erapress Marie Louise to return to Paris, After being honoured with a private interview by the Emperor Napoleon, he started, and, on his arrival at Vienna, saw TaUeyrand and Metternich, but soon found that there was no hope of bringing matters to a satisfactory solution. He afterwards obtained access to the gardens of Schoenbrunn, where Marie Louise was then residing. She was passionately fond of flowers, and Montrond, under his assumed character, was able to accost her during her walks, and deliver the message with which he had been charged. He soon found, as he told his friends on his return, " that a woman so devoted to tulips would not care much for her husband's laurels," and that she was, in fact, completely estranged from the eraperor, I knew Montrond well, but several years later; he had then no trace of having been the charmant garpon tradition represents him. He was rather above the middle height, and what the English novelists call embonpoint, and had the appearance COUNT MONTROND. 237 of a vieux bonhomme. He was perfectly bald, had blue eyes, very small features, and a florid com plexion. There was a peculiar twinkle in his eye, which boded no good to the victira he had selected for his prey. His countenance, as beheld by a casual observer, bore the stamp of an almost Pickwickian bene volence ; but, on a closer inspection, there lurked behind this mask of mild phUanthropy the stinging wit of Voltaire, mingled with the biting sarcasm of Rogers or Sir PhUip Francis, Montrond had none of the lively gestures or grimaces with which most foreigners adorn their conversation : his raanner was singularly quiet. He was not a great talker, nor did he swagger, speak about himself, or laugh at his own bon-mots. He was demure, sleek, sly, and dangerous. He would receive with a paternal air the sUly quizzing of some feeble jester, but then would come the twinkle of that little pale blue eye, and then the poor moth or butterfly was ground to pieces on the wheel of his sharp sarcastic wit. But to return to his history. On his first visit to Eng land, Byron is supposed to allude to hira as the '"Preux chevalier de la Ruse' Whom France and fortune lately deign'd to 'waft here, Whose chiefly harmless talent 'was to amuse ; But the clubs found it rather serious laughter. Because, such was his magic power to please. The cards seem'd charm'd, too, by his repartees." In the London clubs he went by the narae of Old French, and raanaged to win very large suras of raoney off Lord Sefton, (the only speciraen I ever saw of a gigantic hunchback,) who, with aU his wit and cleverness, lost very largely on all occasions, as 238 COUNT MONTROND. well as off the late Lord Foley, the Duke of York, and many others, "Who the deuce is this Montrond 1" said the Duke of York, one day to Arthur Upton, " They say, sir," replied Upton, " that he is the most agreeable scoundrel and the greatest reprobate in France," " Is he, by Jove !" said H,R.H, ; "then let us ask hira to dinner iraraediately." The invitation was sent and accepted, and Mon trond, as usual, raade himself very agreeable, and becarae a constant guest at the dinner-table of H.R.H, ; and, unfortunately, at his whist-table also, by which the duke was a loser of raany thousand pounds. Montrond lived in the best society both at Paris and in London, and was on terras, if not of intiraacy, at all events of farailiarity, with many of the greatest people in Europe, In the latter years of his life he resided in the Place Vend6me, in an apartraent now occupied by Mr Brooke Greville, and was in the receipt of a pension of two thousand pounds a year frora Louis Philippe ; with some of whose secrets he was acquainted, and with whom he had been mixed up in various political intrigues, before the citizen-king came to the throne. He was universally considered to be one of the wittiest men of the age : but all his bon-mots were in French, and the greater part of them lose by translation ; so I hope my readers will excuse me if I give them in the original. His death was a very wretched one. Left alone to the tender raercies of a well-known lorette of those days, Desir6e R , as he lay upon his bed, between fits of pain and drowsiness, he could see COUNT MONTROND. 239 his fair friend picking from his shelves the choicest specimens of his old Sevres china, or other articles of virtu. Turning to his doctor, he said, with a gleara of his old fun, " Qu'elle est attachante, cette ferame Ik ! " Shortly before his death he received the visit of Count Charles de M , a weU-known dandy of that tirae, Avhora he Uked to call one of his pupils, but who, fortunately, only reserabled hira in two points — natural wit, and rather extravagant habits. He turned on the boon corapanion of his happier days a glance of hopeless regret, and said, " My good friend, I have not got a shUling ; I have no appetite ; I can't drink ; Desir^e's only occupation is to carry off ray best china, ' Je vous deraande im pen si c'est la Montrond V " There is a moral in this tale, but perhaps this is not the book in which to note it down ; so I wiU let my readers find it out for theraselves. The foUoAving are sorae of Montrond's best say ings ; the two first have been falsely attributed to Talleyrand: — "La parole a 6te donn^e a I'horarae pour I'aider h. cacher sa pensee." " Defiez-vous des preraiers raouveraents ; Us sont presque toujours bons," " S'il vous arrive quelque chose d'heureux, ne raanquez pas d'aUer le dire a vos arais, afin de leur faire de la peine," EraUe de Girardin, the faraous political writer, a natural son of Alexandre de Girardin, becoraing celebrated, Montrond said to the father, " D6pechez- vous de le reconnaitre, ou bient6t il ne vous recon- naitra pas," A French general. Count F , well known in EngUsh circles, who had the raisfortune to be bald- 240 SIR PEPPER ARDEN, headed, said that he wished to raake a present to a lady, and to give her something rare, " Give her a lock of your hair," reraarked Montrond, The BaUU de Ferrette was always dressed in knee- breeches, with a cocked hat and a court sword, the slender proportions of which greatly reserabled those of his legs. " Do teU rae, my dear BaUU," said Mon trond, one day, "have you got three legs or three swords V In General Malet's conspiracy, the Duke de Rovigo, then minister of police, was seized by the con spirators and taken to prison. His Avife, very much alarmed at seeing her husband carried off, jumped out of bed in a very simple costume, Montrond said, " Le rainistre a et6 faible ; raais sa ferarae s'est bien montr^e," A friend, who was about to marry the natural daughter of the Duke de , was expatiating at great length on the virtues, good quaUties, and talents of his future wife, but without making any aUusion to her birth. "A t'entendre," observed Montrond, " on dirait que tu Spouses une fiUe sur- naturelle," A very thin lady, with whora he had a violent quarrel, saying, "Qu'eUe lui ferait voir du pays," Montrond, calmly surveying her from head to foot, rephed, " Madame, ce serait du plat pays," Sir Pepper Arden, father of Lord Alvanley, — This distinguished lawyer Avas of a violent and irascible temperament. Upon one occasion a Frenchman, accompanied by his interpreter, en tered one of our law courts, when Sir Pepper, with a stentorian voice, and in a great rage, was har- JOHN KEMBLE. 211 anguing the jury in a raost unbecoraing raanner. The Frenchman, not understanding English, in quired what the lavsyer's name Avas, saying he never saw or Avitnessed a more violent and iiascible advocate. The interpreter translated literally Sir Pepper's name frora English into French, and de signed hira as " Le Chevalier Poivre Ardent," " Par- bleu ! il est tres bien norarae," replied the French man, John Kemble. — In the autumn of 1821, I met Mr and Mrs Kerable at Lausanne, at a dinner given by Lady Caroline Capel, (raother of the present Earl of Essex ;) and a few weeks later I saw them again at Milan, where, as we lived at the same hotel, I had the pleasure of passing much time in their company. The first evening we went together to the "Scala," I remember the great tragedian exclaiming, as he surveyed the proportions of that raagnificent theatre, "How like old Drury!" The opera pleased hira well enough ; but with the ballet he was quite delighted, and highly araused ; for the dancers, by order of the police, were obliged to wear sky-blue pantaloons which reached down to their knees, but were so tight that the outline of the figure was raore apparent, and the effect pro duced raore indelicate, than if the usual gauze in expressibles had been used, Kerable, after a hearty laugh, inveighed, in no measured terms, against the iraperial governraent, saying — " What bullies and savages these Austrians are ! They interfere with the unfortunate Italians in everything, even in their arausements, and raake 242 JOHN KEMBLE. even the dancing-girls put on the breeches of their Hungarian infantry!" I Avish I could remeraber some of the numerous anecdotes of this remarkable man, who, without being actually witty, had a vein of rich dry humour ; which, contrasting with his grave classical face, deep sepulchral voice, and serious raanner, had a weiy ludicrous effect, John Kerable had the honour of giving the Prince of Wales sorae lessons in elocution. According to the vitiated pronunciation of the day, the' prince, instead of saying " oblige," would say " obleege," upon which Kerable, with rauch disgust depicted upon his countenance, said — " Sir, raay I beseech your Royal Highness to open your royal jaws, and say ' oblige 1 ' " Conway was a raediocre actor, but a very hand sorae raan, and a great favourite with the fair sex. On sorae one asking Kerable if Conway Avas a good actor, the only answer they could get frora Kemble was, " Mr Conway, sir, is a very tall young man," " But what do you think of hira V "I think Mr Conway is a very tall young raan," One day he was saying, 'before Lord Blessington, Avho was an amateur actor of no raean capacity, that the worst professional player was better than the best araateur performer. Lord Blessington, soraewhat nettled by this observation, asked John Kerable if he meant to say that Conway -acted better than he did, " Conway," replied Kerable, in his raost ^sepulchral A'oice, " is a very strong exception," Like the Sheridans, the Kerables were a most remarkable family — John and his sister, Mrs Sid- REVOLUTION OF 1848, 243 dons, taking the lead ; then carae Mrs TavIss, Fanny, (now Mrs Butler,) the tragedian and authoress, Adelaide, (now Mrs Sartoris,) Avith her splendid musical talent, and their father, Charles Kemble, who, had he not been John's brother, would have been reckoned the first of English actors ; and I believe that several young scions of the same stock, distinguished in their several professions, raight be added to the list. There is not only the stamp of genius and talent of a high order in this gifted family, but also a cer tain nobiUty of mind and feeling. We might say of one of thera, " He or she coraes of a good stock," and expect frora them a kind word, a generous im pulse, a self-denying action. No mean thought could take its birth in those broad, grand foreheads, expressive of the raajestic calraness of strength and power ; and those full, firra, kind lips could not give vent to petty, spiteful, or malicious words. They were of the men and women one meets sometimes in good old England ; not of the comraon clay, but cast in the Titanic mould. Would there were raore such in our days of raediocrity ! Revolution of 1848. — The character of the tAvo great outbreaks of popular feeUng in 1830 and 1848 was Avidely different. The first had a far grander aspect, frora the siraple fa'ct that, under the elder branch of the Bourbons, there were real grievances to redress. It was absolutely necessary to arrest the Avide-spreading encroachments of the priesthood, and to crush the infatuated pride of aristocracy, Avhich Avould have ignored the reforming Avork of 1789, The Revolution of 1830 Avas the expression 244 REVOLUTION OF 1848, of a strong genuine feeling, the death-struggle be tween blind superstition and that latent love for truth and liberty which cannot be trarapled out of the huraan breast. But that of 1848 was of a very different kind. There stiU hangs a kind of raystery over the ex act origin of the outbreak. Dark hints have been thrown out of treachery on the part of at least one of the leading Generals at that tirae. Many have supposed that there existed, in the bosom of the royal famUy of France itself, a plot to bring about the abdication of Louis Philippe, in favour of his grandson, the Count de Paris, under the regency of the Duchess of Orleans, It is thought that M. Thiers was the leading spirit of this plan, and that aU the princes, except the Duke de Neraours, agreed to, or secretly approved of, this corabination ; and it is supposed that, in their anxiety to bring about this scherae, they aUowed the rcA-olutionary move ment to gain ground, and wilfully ignored the re- pubUcan feeling — which really existed in France before the French knew wha't a republic was, I do not pretend to vouch for the truth of these sup positions, but undoubtedly some of the events that occurred gave a colouring to them. Various untoward circurastances, during 1847, had combined to excite the people and bring mat ters to a crisis. Among these raay be noted the disgraceful trials in which some of the ministers had been iraplicated, and the raurder of the poor Duchess de Praslin, It Avas very ranch to be regretted that the perpetrator of this fearful crirae did not expiate his guilt on the scaffold, and was allowed to cora rait suicide in his prison. Nay, more, to this day REVOLUTION OF 1848, 245 the people firmly believe that a convict who had died in prison was buried in the murderer's stead ; and that the aristocratic criminal was suffered to escape, and still lives, under an assumed name, in Scotland, Very exciting works had been published. That splendid fable, " L'Histoire des Girondins," by Lamartine, had electrified the raasses ; while the popular novels of Eugene Sue had demoralised them, aud inspired them with hatred against the raore fortunate classes of society. There had been a bad harvest ; and the French invariably render their governraent responsible for such disasters. The death of Madarae Adelaide, the king's rauch-loved sister, and wise counsellor, having put a stop to all official gaieties, had also produced a bad effect on the coraraercial interests of Paris, I cannot but think that royalty has no right to indulge in the outward expression of private grief, when the welfare of a large capital is at stake. A poor actor who has just heard of the death of his Avife or chUd, raust needs paint his cheeks, still wet with the tears of natural affection, and come before the public Avith a breaking heart, to smUe and jest for their arauseraent. Surely a monarch has also his obligations and duties ; and if he takes the pay, and other pleasant parts of the kingly office, he should also bear his burthen, and fulfil his duties. Thus, he would secure far more efficaciously the sympathy of his people than if he were trying to force them to suffer Avith him, Madarae Adelaide was a clever, hard-headed, some say hard-hearted, woman of the world, and there can be no doubt that she exercised consider able influence over her royal brother Her appear- 246 REVOLUTION OF 1848, ance was extremely boui^geois, and Avithout dignity. In speaking of their aunt, the princes used to say, "Notre tante est bonne femme au fond, mais un pen epici^re," But it was just perhaps her Avant of refinement and royal dignity which adapted Madame Adelaide to the tone and councUs of the citizen monarchy. However this raay be, it was generally remarked that the king's mental faculties had been much impaired since his sister's death, Avhich event took place in the early part of the Avinter preceding his fall ; that he was no longer the Avise, prudent, energetic raan of former days ; and that his whole conduct during the last months of his reign was marked by vaciUation of purpose, and a strange irritability of temper, as if he felt that he was going aU wrong, but was hurried on by that blind fatality which drags raonarchs down frora their tottering thrones. The extreme unpopularity of the ministers was another cause of Louis Philippe's doAvnfaU, M. Guizot, the austere intrigant, as he has been cleverly designated, was himself of Spartan probity, and proud of his coraparative poverty ; but at the sarae tirae he permitted, or at aU events did not prevent, the peculations and speculations on the Bourse, founded on official news, of those em ployed under hira. Neither was he likely, by his raanner, or his language, to concihate his nuraerous eneraies. I never can forget his attitude in the Charaber of Deputies during the period iraraediately preceding the faU of Louis PhUippe. He seeraed, with his fine head thrown proudly back, his eagle glance, his hard-flashing eye, his biting sarcasm, and disdainful REVOLUTION OF 1848. 247 eloquence, to hurl defiance at his adversaries, and to dare them to the combat ; just as a matador strives to irritate the bull he is going to fight by dashing a scarlet flag in his face : and. Heaven knows, the French require no stirring up, or egging on, to in crease their natural puguaciousness and irritability. Instead of answering the accusations of his political opponents, Guizot insulted thera ; and, firm in the consciousness of his own personal integrity, he covered the petty larcenies of his rayrmidons, or the Avholesale robberies of his colleagues, with the raantle of his stern raorality, I am hein Freund, as the Germans say, to any class of courtiers ; but I think the most hateful of aU this hateful class were the Doctrinaires in office. They seemed to glory in the antipathy they inspired. Cold, dry, grasping, stingy, insolent and raean, they cared only for their raaster, inasmuch as he could minister to their arabition. There can, I think, be no doubt that the morgue and maladresse of his supporters had rauch to do with the faU of Louis Philippe ; and though they talked a good deal of all they would have done to back hira up, had he been Avise enough to eraploy the raUitary raeans placed at his disposal, I firraly beUeve, that not one araong the whole set would have sacrificed a thousand franc-note to keep the constitutional king on his throne. They played high — a royal crown for their stake ; and when it was cast down into the raire by the triumphant mob, they vanished : to return when all was quiet, and raake de I'opposition in the gilded saloons of their suraptuous Parisian houses. To complete the series of unlucky circumstances. 248 REVOLUTION OF 1848. the two raost popular princes of the royal faraily were absent in Algeria. The favour with which they were regarded by the lower orders was greatly increased by the ruraour that they had fallen into disgrace with the king and his governraent on account of their liberal opinions. The Duke de Nemours, a brave and kind-hearted prince, did all he could to support his sister-in-law on her visit to the Chamber of Deputies ; but he was paralysed by the conviction of his own unpopularity. He ac complished a difficult and dangerous duty without the elan which turns the soldier into a hero. He supported the duchess, but was unable to utter one of those stirring appeals which electrify an audience, and, hke a whirlwind, carry all before them : the duke, pale, serious, collected, was too resigned to be able to obtain a victory over the passions of an enthusiastic multitude. If the Duchess of Orleans, who was a woman full of energy and eloquence, had been allowed to speak, she would have won the day ; but her voice was drowned in the cries of the infuriated mob. On the eve of the day which was to see Louis Philippe hurled from his throne, I remember walk ing down the Boulevards, which were crowded with people. It has been generally remarked, that revo lutionary movements in France never take place during very cold weather, and the last week of February 1848 was singularly mild and warm. It seemed to me during my promenade, that there was about the assembled masses that peculiar aspect of sullen defiance which characterises the Paris raobs before an outbreak. I had had some experience in these matters, owing REVOLUTION OF 1848, 249 to my long residence in France, and I felt quite certain that the persons assembled at various points, and in div-ers groups, were corabining their plans, and that we raight look out for squalls. The only soldiers one saw on that day, the 23d, were the municipal guards : for the troops of the line were confined to their barracks. Unfortunately, the municipal guards did not shcAv much forbearance in their treatraent of the people, invariably answer ing their vociferations by a charge. It would have been far wiser, in ray opinion, not to have irritated the mob by these half-measures, which could be productive of no beneficial result. When the troops were caUed out, instead of being made to act imrae diately, they were allowed to stand aU day and aU night in the streets, weary, unoccupied, and without proAdsions, to endure the jeering of the gamins and the cajoling of the workraen, or rather emeutiers disguised as workraen and carrying arms under their blouses. This long inaction, coupled with physical exhaustion, brought about their fraternis ing Avith the mob, which lost the Orleans dynasty one of the finest thrones in the world, I lived at this period in the Place de la Madeleine, and could observe frora ray windows the increasing numbers of the populace, and the insolence of their bearing. As I went to my club at the Cafe de Paris, I saw a battalion of the 14th Regiment of the line, stationed in the garden of the Foreign Office, which was then on the Boulevards, The king, at the time I mention, had at last con sented to dismiss his ministers, and to replace them by members of the liberal party. There was great joy at this news, and even a commencement of illu- 250 REVOLUTION OF 1848, rainations in consequence. At the club where I was dining, the friends of the raonarchy were rejoicing at the prospect of raatters being satisfactorily ar ranged; when, just as we were all congratulating ourselves on the peaceful terrain ation of the emeute, a terrific yell burst upon our ears. Its cause was soon explained. On rushing to the windows, we be held a large cart fuU of dead and dying persons, followed by an iraraense concourse of raen and Avoraen in the highest state of exciteraent, flinging their arras up towards heaven, and shouting out, " Aux armes ! " " Vengeons nos frferes ! " We soon learnt what had occurred, A large and peaceable crowd had collected before the Foreign Office, the garden of which looked upon the Boulevard des Capucines, and were gazing with Parisian delight at the illumination, when it is sup posed that the republican party, enraged at seeing peace restored by the announceraent of a change of ministry, determined to strike a murderous blow at the tottering raonarchy, and — with that utter disre gard of huraan life, which characterises Frenchmen when they have a political end in vicAv — put forward an agent, (Lagrange,) who fired a pistol-shot at the officer commanding the battalion. The soldiers imraediately responded by a volley of rausketry upon the unsuspecting people, and strewed the " Boulevard with dead and wounded. Many of the corpses were placed by the revolutionary party upon a cart to excite the passions of the people, and followed by vast crowds shouting vengeance. From my club window that evening, I witnessed another extraordinary sight. An infuriated mob broke into the shop of a gunraaker opposite, and REVOLUTION OF 1848. 251 robbed him of OA-eiy weapon he possessed : guns, pistols, SAVords, sabivs, carbines, were slung round the shoulders, or fastened round the waists of men and boys, who Avere all singing the forbidden "Marseillaise," and the "Chant de Depart," and shouting seditious cries. In a fcAV hours, barricades Avere raised, as if by magic, on every point of Paris, ready for the conflict that comraenced at break of day. I went out early on the following raorning, and Adsited the Place de la Concorde, where several regiraents of cavalry had bivouacked ; and owing to the blundering and raismangeraent of the raUitary authorities, — Avho all seemed to have taken leave of their senses, — the troops had remained all night, the men Avithout any food, and the horses with neither corn nor hay. From the Place de la Concorde, I directed my steps to the Boulevard Montmartre, by the Palais Royal, and the Rue Vivienne, I spoke to several persons, aU of whora appeared disgusted at the unaccountable apathy shewn by the Governraent, As I passed along the Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle, I witnessed a strange scene : a regi ment of the line, who, if they had been well led, Avould have put to fflght all the mob of Paris, were actually in the hands of the emeutiers who had persuaded the soldiers to give up their muskets, A General rode up and addressed the crowd, saying that the soldiers would never raore fire on their brethren. Upon which there was a treraendous shout of applause, I then endeaA'oured to raake ray way to the Chamber of Deputies, but could not reach it owing to the denseness of the crowd. I met a member of ray club, Eraraanuel Arago, son of the great as- 252 ROGERS AND LUTTRELL. tronoraer. Having always been a republican, and opposed to Louis Philippe's government, he was radiant with joy ; and after leaving me, he placed himself at the head of sixty or seventy of the armed mob, and forced his way into the Charaber, At the raoraent when the regency of the Duchess of Orleans would probably have been proclaimed, Emmanuel Arago's friends raade their way into the tribunes, and levelled their rauskets at the heads of Sauzet, the President, and other raerabers of the Charaber, who were about to speak in favour of the regency of the Duchess of Orleans. The President and the Deputies left their seats ; Arago and his friends raised an iraraense shout of " Vive la Republique ! " Laraartine, then Ledru RoUin, Creraieux, and other Deputies of extreme opinions, were listened to with attention ; and they undertook to establish a Pro visional Government, and to adjourn to the Hotel de ViUe. In this extraordinary manner, and almost I may say by chance, the Orleans dynasty ceased to reign over the French people; and Louis Philippe — long reputed the Nestor of raonarchs, the wisest sovereign in Europe — was driven frora the throne, as he con stantly exclairaed during his flight — "Absolument corarae Charles X, ! — Absoluraent comme Charles X, !" Rogers and Luttrell, — I saw a good deal of the poet Rogers during his frequent visits to Paris ; and often visited hira in his apartraents, which Avere always on the fourth or fifth story of the hotel or private house in which he lived. He was rich, and by no raeans avaricious, and chose those lofty chambers partly from a poetic wish to see the sun ROGERS AND LUTTRELL. 253 rise with greater brilliancy, and partly from a faucy that the exercise he Avas obliged to take in going up and down stairs, would prove beneficial to his liver, I could relate many unpublished anecdotes of Rogers, but they lose their piquancy Avhen one attempts to narrate thera. There was so rauch in his appearance, in that cadaverous, unchanging countenance, in the peculiar Ioav drawling voice, and rather treraulous accents in which he spoke. His intonations were very rauch those one fancies a ghost Avoidd use if forced by sorae magic speU to give utterance to sounds. The mild venom of every word was a reraarkable trait in his conver sation. One raight have compared the old poet to one of those velvety caterpiUars that crawl gently and quietly over the skin, but leave an irritating blister behind. To those, like rayself, who Avere sans consequence, and with whom he feared no rivalry, he was very good-natured and amiable, and a most pleasant companion, with a fund of curious anecdote about everything and everybody. But woe betide those in great prosperity and renown ; they had, Uke the Roraan eraperor, in Rogers the personification of the slave who bade them "re member they were mortal," At an evening party raany years since at Lady Jersey's, every one was praising the Duke of B , who had just come in, and who had lately attained his majority. There was a perfect chorus of admi ration, to this effect : " Everything is in his favour — he has good looks, considerable abilities, and a hundred thousand a year," Rogers, who had been carefully examining the "young ruler," listened to these encoraiums for sorae time in silence, and at 254 ROGERS AND LUTTRELL. last remarked, with an air of great exultation, and in his raost venoraous manner, "Thank God, he has got bad teeth ! " His weU-known epigram on Mr Ward, afterAvards Lord Dudley — " They say that Ward 's no heart, but I deny it ; He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it " — was provoked by a remark made at table by Mr 'Ward, On Rogers observing that his carriage had broken doAvn, and that he had been obliged to corae in a hackney-coach, Mr Ward grurabled out in a very audible whisper, " In a hearse, I should think ; " alluding to the poet's corpse-like appear ance. This reraark Rogers never forgave ; and I have no doubt pored for days OA'er his retaliatory improraptu, for he had no facility in coraposition : Sydney Sraith used to say that if Rogers was Avriting a dozen verses, the street was strewn with straw, the knocker tied up, and the answer to J:he tender inquiries of his anxious friends was, that Mr Rogers was as well as could be expected. It used to be very arausing in London to see Rogers Avith his fidus Achates, Luttrell, They were inseparable, though rival wits, and constantly saying bitter things of each other, LuttreU Avas the natural son of Lord Carhampton, Commander- in-Chief in Ireland, and in his youth known as the famous Colonel Luttrell of Junius. I consider him to have been the raost agreeable raan I ever met. He was far more brUliant in conversation than Rogers ; and his animated, bustling manner formed an agreeable contrast Avith the spiteful calmness of his corpse-like corapanion. He Avas extremely irrit able and even passionate ; and in his moments of THE PIG-FACED LADY, 255 anger he would splutter and stutter like a raaniac in his anxiety to give utterance to the flow of thoughts which crowded his raind, and, I raight alraost say, his raouth. On one occasion the late Lady HoUand took hira a drive in her carriage over a rough road, and as she was very nervous, she insisted on being driven at a foot's pace. This ordeal lasted some hours, and when he was at last released, poor Luttrell, perfectly exasperated, rushed into the nearest club-house, and exclairaed, clenching his teeth and hands, " The very funerals passed us !" The last time I saw him' -was at Paris, in June 1849, when I remeraber meeting him. at a very pleasant dinner at the Frferes Provengaux. Lord Pembroke, Lockwood, Auriol, Lord Hertford, and one or two others, were present, and though LuttreU was then above eighty years of age, we thought him quite delightful He had lost none of the fire and eagerness of youth, but took the greatest interest in everything that was going on in Paris at that most exciting period, and I had for several days the great pleasure of acting as his cicerone. Strange to say, on his return to England he mar ried a second time, but died shortly afterwards. He was the author of "Advice to Juha," and other poems ; but nothing that he ever wrote gave an idea of the amusing variety of his conversation, and his briUiant Avit and humour. He was the last of the " Conversationists," The Pig-faced Lady, — Araong the raany absurd reports and ridiculous stories current in former days. 256 THE PIG-FACED LADY, I know of none more absurd or more ridiculous than the general belief of everybody in London, during the winter of 1814, in the existence of a lady with a pig's face. This interesting specimen of porcine physiognomy was said to be the daughter of a great lady residing in Grosvenor Square, It was rumoured that during the illuminations which took place to celebrate the peace, when a great crowd had assembled in PiccadUly and St James's Street, and when carriages could not raove on very rapidly, horresco ref evens! an enormous pig's snout had been seen protruding from a fashionable-looking bonnet in one of the landaus which were passing. The mob cried out, " The pig-faced lady ! — the pig- faced lady ! Stop the carriage — stop the carriage !" The coachraan, wishing to save his bacon, whipped his horses, and drove through the crowd at a tre mendous pace ; but it was said that the coach had been seen to set down its monstrous load in Gros venor Square, Another report was also current. Sir WiUiam Elliot, a youthful baronet, calling one day to pay his respects to the great lady in Grosvenor Square, was ushered into a drawing-roora, where he found a person fashionably dressed, who, on turning towards him, displayed a hideous pig's face. Sir WiUiam, a timid young gentleman, could not refrain from utter ing a shout of horror, and rushed to the door in a manner the reverse of polite ; when the infuriated lady or aniraal, uttering a series of grunts, rushed at the unfortunate baronet as he was retreating, and inflicted a severe wound on the back of his neck. This highly probable story concluded by stating that Sir Williara's wound Avas a severe one, and had BALZAC AND EUGI^NE SUE, 257 been dressed by Hawkins, the surgeon, in St Audley Street. I am really alraost ashamed to repeat this absurd story ; but many persons now alive can remeraber the strong beUef in the existence of the pig-faced lady which prevaUed in the public raind at the time of Avhich I speak. The shops were full of caricatures of the pig-faced lady, in a poke bonnet and large veil, with "A pig in a poke" Avritten underneath the print. Another sketch represented Sir Williara Elliot's misadventure, and was entitled, " Beware the pig-sty!" Balzac and EugI^ne Sue, — It has been ray good fortune, during the raany years I have lived in Paris, to meet some remarkable characters, among whora I should Avish particularly to narae, the celebrated novehsts Balzac, Engine Sue, and Duraas, Balzac had nothing in his outward raan that could in any way respond to the ideal his readers were likely to form of the enthusiastic adrairer of beauty and elegance in aU its forms and phases : the Avon- derful master-raind, which had so vividly draAvn the pictures of his heroes and heroines, that one had ended by iraagining one had Uved in the charmed circle ; had borrowed money from Gob- seek, and the Pere Goriot ; flirted with Madame de Beauseant ; foUowed the " FUle aux Yeux d'Or " in the mazes of the Tuileries gardens ; been cheated by De TraiUes ; or patronised by De Marsay, The great enchanter was one of the oiliest and eomraonest looking raortals I ever beheld ; being short and corpulent, with a broad florid face, a R 258 BALZAC AND EUGENE SUE, cascade of double chins, and straight greasy hair The only striking feature in that Friar Tuck coun tenance was his eye; dark, flashing, wicked, fuU of sarcasm, and unholy fire, Balzac had that unwashed appearance which seeras generally to belong to French litterati, and dressed in the worst possible taste, wore spark ling jewels on a dirty shirt front, and diamond rings on unwashed fingers. He talked little, but it wa-s evident that nothing escaped him, and that bright eye seemed almost to read the secrets of the heart. No literary man, except perhaps Alexandre Dumas, ever ran through so ranch raoney as Balzac, The iraraense sums which he received for his writ ings were spent in the raost absurd atterapts at aristocratic luxury, which ended invariably in a steeple-chase between the great author and the bailiffs, Eugene Sue was the very reverse of Balzac, both in appearance and raanner. Nothing could have been raore correct and scrupulously neat than his dress, which was rather dandified, but in good taste, according to the notions of twenty or thirty years ago. He wore always a very broad-brimmed hat, of glossy newness, and remarkably tight, Ught-coloured trousers : which, by the by, were not particularly be coraing to a raan buUt in a stout mould ; but a Frenchman who cannot diminish the rotundity of his abdomen, generaUy revenges hiraself upon his legs, which he circurascribes in the smallest possible compass, giving himself very much the appearance of what Ave .Englishraen are taught to believe to be his national characteristic and proto type — a frog. BALZAC AND EUGENE SUE. 259 Eugene Sue was rather above the raiddle height, strongly-buUt, with soraewhat high shoulders. His hair and brows were very dark, his eyes blue, long, and rather closed, and his coraplexion of a livid paleness. In general society, he did not shew off, and preferred rather being 'treated as a raan of the world, than as a distinguished writer. But when he found hiraself among some kindred spirits, and felt he was appreciated, his conversation Avas particularly agreeable. He never had the sparkling Avit and versatility of Dumas, or the extraordinary descriptive powers of Balzac ; but he possessed the iraraense advantage over his great rivals in being veritably \m homme du monde, living in the very best Parisian society. He could, therefore, make the men and woraen in his novels act and speak as people reaUy do, and not like workmen in theii Sunday coats, or actors in the old melodraraas, Sue's imagination was wonderful ; but one can see that in his books he carried out his own principle, that the beginning of the novel was three parts of the battle. He always comraenced his tales in a manner certain to fix the attention of the reader ; but we generaUy find towards the close of the numberless voluraes syraptoras of weariness in the writer, which are apt to coramunicate them selves to the reader. He was remarkable for the beauty of his horses ; his cab was one of the best-appointed in Paris ; his house in the Rue de la P^pinifere (now an asylum) was a perfect bonbonniere, and his dinners Avere renowned for their excellence. He was supposed (and to my knowledge with considerable reason) to lead a very Sardanapalian life. Strange stories 260 BALZAC AND EUGENE SUK are told of his castle in Sologne, where he was waited on by a nuraber of beautiful woraen, of aU countries, and of all shades of colour. In manners, Eugene Sue was particularly gentle manlike and courteous, without servility. He held his own, but with good taste and good breeding. He had a wonderful passion for beautiful flowers, and was weU-skiUed in botany. He had been in early life a navy surgeon, and in his distant voyages had become thoroughly versed in the names and pro perties of rare tropical plants. He had in his house a beautiful conservatory, full of valuable exotics. His handkerchiefs were always steeped in essence of bouquet ; and he had generaUy a tuberose or a camellia in the button-hole of his coat. Though a man utterly devoid of moral principle. Sue was charitable and kind to the poor, and obliging to his friends. At the Revolution of 1848, he went aU lengths with the Red Republican party ; and, after being one of the merabers for Paris in the National Asserably, was obliged to leave France, and passed the few reraaining years of his life in Savoy, in coraplete seclusion, Eugene Sue had grown very uuAvieldy ; and, as he lived in a village at the foot of a mountain called, I think, the Sol^ve, he had set himself, in order to grow thinner, on a course of training, which con sisted in climbing to the top of this high hUl, The weather, which was very sultry, and the over-exer tion, brought on a fever, which carried him off in a fcAv days. His death was attributed, among the ignorant peasantry, to poison, given by the Jesuits, who had never fora;iven the violent attacks he had ALEXANDRE DUMAS, 261 made on their order in the ardent and eloquent pages of the " Juif Errant." Alexandre Dumas. — Of aU the distinguished writers of the nineteenth century that haA-e ap peared in France, Alexandre Dumas is perhaps the most remarkable, from the versatility of his talent and the brUliancy of his imagination, which carries the reader along with unflagging interest through dozens of voluraes. Who araong us has not in fancy shared the perUs of the " Trois Mous- quetairesl" or followed with unabated interest the avenging course of "Monte Christo"?" or believed firraly in the existence of a " Bifstek d'Ours," served up in a Swiss inn to an astonished traveller 1 The reader, however heavy he raay be in himself, is carried impetuously forward ; and, like the stout old lady placed on a " Montague Russe," " is forced to go the pace," whether he wUl or not. Bright or Cobden himself is forced to fight D'Artagnan's battles along with him ; and the most benevolent Pickwick finds hiraself burning with anger, and gloAving with raartial ardour, as he peruses those admirable descriptions. There is no great depth of thought in the "Pere Prodigue," as the younger Dumas AvittUy styled his juvenile and extravagant father. There are none of those wonderful touches of pathos, and profound study of human character, that we find in Balzac's tales, — ^passages any one would Avdsh to copy into his scrapbook, or raark with a pencil as he goes along. In Duraas the touches of real feeling are rare ; there are none of those aspira tions after better things which throw now and then 262 ALEXANDRE DUMAS, a golden light even on the sensual pages of George Sand or Alfred de Musset, All is action — ^bright, dazzling entrainant; a torrent of incident carry ing all before it, Alexandre Duraas is the son of General Alexandre Duraas, who served with sorae distinction in the republican arraies of France, and was a native of one of the French West India Islands, In appear ance, he is far above the raiddle height, and is alraost a mulatto, with wooUy curling hair, and copper complexion. This peculiarity of appearance has given rise to some arausing traits desprit, which, though well-known in France, may be new to some of ray English readers, " A, Duraas fils," (the son of the writer,) who has inherited all his father's wit, with a quiet and gentleraanlike demeanour, said the great novelist was so fond of " show-off," that he was always ex pecting him to get up behind his own carriage, in order to raake people think that he had got a negro footraan. Another story is told on the same subject. A, Duraas has a daughter who raade a very good raar riage. There were, report says, some difficiUties in the preliminary arrangemen'ts, but these were got over ; and the raother of the bridegroom, a pro vincial lady of great respectability, arrived in Paris to be present at the wedding. The church was fuU of spectators ; and it so happened that among them were several negroes. This circurastance excited the surprise of the bridpgroora's raother, who was seated beside the bride's father. Persons frora the provinces, les Provinciaux, ave rather disposed to wonder at everything they see in Paris, and Madame ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 203 X , in a weak treble, expressed her astonishraent to Alexandre Dumas at seeing so manj' men of colour, " Oh, I can explain that very easily," replied the incorrigible jester : " C'est raa famUle, qui voulait assister aux noces de ma fiUe," The old lady, who, hke most proAdncials, was a very raatter-of-fact person, looked unutterable things, and was perfectly horrified at the prospect of this enormous negro connexion, Dumas, who is the most generous and kind- hearted man in the world, had been away from his house in Paris on one of his many trips to foreign lands ; and, with his usual munificence, had aUowed his friends the run of his house and cellar during his absence. On his return home, he gave a great breakfast to celebrate the event. His nuraerous guests, towards the end of the repast, expressed a wish to drink his health in champagne, and the servant went doAvn stairs, as if to look for some, but soon returned with the dismal intelligence that it had been all drunk, Dumas slipped a few napo leons into the valet's hand, and ordered hira to buy sorae at the neighbouring restaurateurs ; but having sorae suspicion, he followed the servant, when, to his great surprise, he beheld the fellow emerging from his OAvn ceUar, frora whence he had brought up his OAvn charapagne. Dumas, though the soul of good -nature, Avas about to turn the rascal off on the spot, when the raan fell at his kind raaster's feet, rerainded hira that he had a wife and family, and implored his mercy, " WeU, I wiU forgive you this time," said the great writer ; " mais au raoins une autre fois faites moi credit." 264 CIVILITY REWARDED, Duraas raarried an actress, frora whom he sepa rated, making her a liberal allowance, which was sel dom or never paid. A friend of the lady went to expostulate on the distressed condition in which she found herself, " I avUI double her annuity," cried out the generous author. " You would do better," said the raore matter-of-fact friend, " to pay her the allowance you make her," The suras which the " P^re Prodigue " spent on his Monte-Christo villa near St Gerraain — so-caUed from haAdng been buUt at the tirae his novel of " Monte Christo " raet Avith so rauch success, — were fabulous. He was horribly cheated by architects, buUders, up holsterers, and in fact by everybody he employed ; yet he did not succeed in making it a pretty house. Nothing could be raore inconvenient, or in worse taste, than the way in which the rooras were laid out : the only thing that struck rae as being pretty was the little dressing-room in white marble. This " Folic Duraas " did not reraain long in his possession, but was sold about twelve years ago. Duraas is one of the raost arausing raen I ever raet, and a most wonderful talker. His Avit is prodigious, his fund of anecdote inexhaustible, the strength of his lungs overpowering. To give my English readers an idea of his Herculean powers of conversation, I may remark that I was present at a dinner sorae twelve or fifteen years ago, where Lord Broughara and Duraas were araong the corapany, and the loquacious and eloquent ex-chanceUor could not literally get in a single word, but had to sit, for the first and last tirae in his life, a perfect dummy. Civility Rewarded, — We have all heard the CIVILITY REWARDED. 205 story alluded to by Charles Larab, in the " Essays of Elia," of the bank clerk who was in the habit, as he proceeded daily to his office, of giving a penny to a crossing-sweeper, and how in process of time the sweeper died and left £5000, which sura had been half a century in accuraulating, to the cha ritable employi. The grandfather of the present Marquis of Hertford having been very civU to an old gentleraan in a stage-coach during a journey to York, the said old gentleraan very kindly died shortly after, and left his lordship a large for tune. But I know of no incident more curious than the following ; the moral of which would seera to be, that we ought all to go to church early and secure a good place. Like the novel of Waverley, "'tis sixty years since," when a young gentleraan naraed Green, the son of a clergyraan, wishing to hear a faraous preacher, went one Sunday morning unusu aUy early to church, and thereby secured a good place in a pew near the preacher. The church filled rapidly, and a venerable and rather infirm-looking old man, after walking up and down the various aisles, being unable to get a seat, was about to leave the church, when Green, who was a good-natm-ed young feUow, took pity on him, as he looked very weak and iU, and offered him his seat ; it was ac cepted with raany thanks, whUst Green stood with his back against the waU during the service and sermon. On leaving the church the old gentle raan again thanked hira, and asked his narae and address, which were given, A feAV days after, Mr Green received an invitation to dinner frora the stranger, who was living in Grosvenor Square, It 266 CIVILITY REWARDED. would appear that the acquaintance thus accidentaUy formed, became a fast friendship, for the old gentle man shortly afterwards died, and left the whole of his fortune, a very considerable one, to his young friend, Avith the condition that he should take the name of Wilkinson in addition to that of Green, I may add that the young gentleman raade the raost excellent use of the fortune which he owed to his good nature and civility, and became the head of a very ^popular and prosperous family, "A propos of pews and pew-openers, I remem ber, when I was staying at Deal some years back, hearing of an incident in which a lady, who had not the good breeding of Mr Green, played a soraewhat unenviable part. The Duke of WeUington, then residing at Walmer Castle, had walked one Sunday evening into Deal, and entered Trinity Church, After wandering about for some time in search of the sexton, (who, as a matter of course, was engaged elsewhere,) the Duke ensconced hiraself in a rooray-looking pew, in front of the pulpit. After a short time a lady of portly and pompous appearance, the owner of the pew entered. After muttering a prayer, she cast a scowl at the intruder, which was intended to drive him out of the place he had taken. She had not the least idea who he was, and would probably have given her eyes, had she knoAvn him, to have touched the hem of the great Duke's cloth cloak, or asked for his autograph. Seeing that the stranger bore the brunt of her indignant glance without moving, the lady bluntly told the Duke, as she did not know him, that she must request he would immediately leave her new. His Grace obeved, and chose another PARTY AT MANCHESTER HOUSE IN 1816. 267 seat. When he was leaving the church, at the end of the service, and had at last found the sexton, who received hira with many bows and salutations, he said — " Tell that lady she has turned the Duke of Wel hngton out of her pew this evening," Party at Manchester House in 1816, and the Regent's Etiquete, — In 1816, when I was residing in Paris, I used to have all my clothes raade by Staub, in the Rue Richelieu, He had raarried a very pretty dame de compagnie of the celebrated Lady MUdraay, and in consequence of this circura stance was patronised and made the fashion by Sir Henry MUdmay and his friends, the dandies. As I went out a great deal into the world, and was every night at some baU or party, I found that knee-breeches were only worn by a few old fogies ; trousers and shoes being the usual costume of e^^ the young raen of the day, I returned to London with, Hervey Aston, towards the end of the year, and we put up at Fenton's in St Jaraes's Street, I raention the foUowing soraewhat trivial circura stance to give some notion of the absurd severity in matters of dress and etiquette of BrumraeU's worthy pupil, the Prince Regent, A few days after ray arrival, I received an invitation to a party at Man chester House, frora Lady Hertford, "to have the honour of raeeting the Prince," I went there dressed d la Frangaise, and quite correctly, as I imagined, with white neckcloth and waistcoat, and black trousers, shoes, and silk stock ings. The Prince had dined there, and I found him in the octagon-room, surrounded by aU the great 268 LORD AND LADY GRANVILLE. ladies of the Court, After making my bow, and re tiring to the further part of the roora, I sat down by the beautiful Lady Heathcote, and had been engaged in conversation with her for sorae time, when Horace Seymour tapped me on the shoulder and said, " The 'great man,'" meaning the Prince, "is very much surprised that you should have ventured to appear in his presence without knee-breeches. He considers it as a want of proper respect for hira," This very disagreeable hint drove me away from Manchester House in a moment, in no very pleasant mood, as raay be iraagined ; and I much fear that I went to bed devoting my royal raaster to all the infernal gods. In the raorning, being on guard, I raentioned what had occurred, with sorae chagrin, to my colonel. Lord Frederick Bentinck, who good-naturedly told me not to take the matter to heart, as it was really of no consequence ; and he added — " Depend upon it, Gronow, the Prince, who is a lover of noA'elty, will wear trousers hiraself before the year is out, and then you raay laugh at hira," Lord Frederick proved a true prophet, for in less than a raonth I had the satisfaction of seeing " the finest gentleraan in Europe " at a ball at Lady Cholraondeley's, dressed exactly as I had been at Lady Hertford's, when I incurred his displeasure, in black trousers and shoes ; and Lord Fife, who was in attendance upon the Prince, congratulated rae upon the fact that his royal master had deigned to take exaraple by the young Welshraan, The British Embassy — Lord and Lady Gran ville, — The announceraent of the laraented death lord and lady GRANVILLE, 269 of Lady GranvUle in the papers the other day, brought to ray raind vivid recoUections of the palmy days of the British Embassy, and all the blooming happy faces that used to be constantly congregated there ; but who are now grown old and careworn, or are lying in the grave, forgotten by those who loved them best, whilst others, fair, young, and happy, reign in their stead, England was never represented more worthily, or Avith greater magnificence, than by Lord and Lady Gran vUle ; though the high post of ambassador to Paris has been occupied by sorae of the greatest and proudest of our countryraen. The royal porap of the proud Buckingham, the skUl and courage of Stair, the cunning and energy of old Horace Wal pole, the splendid prodigaUty of Lord Albemarle, the firm attitude and dignified bearing of Lord "Whitworth, and the master-raind of the Great Duke, have aU been displayed upon this raost ira- portant field of action. Lord GranvUle had been ambassador at St Peters burg in early life, and greatly distinguished him self as an able diplomatist on a most delicate and important mission. He was the beau-ideal of a high-bred EngUsh nobleman. He was considerably above the raiddle height, Avith a figure reraarkable for symraetry and grace, which he . preserved to an advanced age. His features were regular, and his countenance expressive of raildness and good-nature. He was one of those men who, once seen, leave an impression on the raeraory : he belonged to a race of gentleraen of the olden time, that seems almost extinct in our present free-and-easy days. Lady GranviUe, though she did not possess the 270 LORD AND LADY GRANVILLE, outward advantages of her husband, was considered his superior in conversational powers, and possessed, in a high degree, the charra of voice and manner which belongs to the Cavendish family. She rather affected a reraarkable siraphcity in her dress, was generaUy attired in black, and would receive her guests in the plainest of caps, and wrapped up in a shawl. But, in spite of the horaeliness of her cos- turae, figure, and features, there was soraething in the tout ensemble which spoke of noble blood and ancient lineage ; and her raanner of receiving was perfect. Unlike raost of our countrywomen, she was not subject to fits of caprice ; she was perfectly in dependent, and could afford to forra her own opinion, and act upon it ; and if there was a kind and generous action to be performed, she was sure not to miss the opportunity of doing it. Through good report and evil report, she would cleave to those who had once won her affectionate regard, and Avith out any appearance of patronising, she knew how to throw the mantle of her loving protection round those who needed it. At the same time, there was nothing banal in her manner or character. She had none of that excess of constrained politeness, which is, in reality, the height of incivility, but was courteous to all ; by her perfect breeding, she con strained the presuming British Gogs and Magogs to keep at a respectful distance, without ever saying an unkind word, or shewing any symptom of being ruffled or discomposed. It was rather arausing, when Lady Granville first carae to Paris, to see sorae of the grandes dames of the Faubourg St Gerraain feeling their way, and trying whether they could not dictate to HOBY, THE BOOTMAKER, 271 and doraineer over the quiet-looking English lady, who had raore Avit, and fun, and huraour, and clever ness than a dozen of them put together. These arbiters of fashion soon discovered that they had found more than their match in Lady Granville, and that she would have her own Ust of guests, choose her own cap and shawl, and settle her arm chairs and sofas in her own way, without taking the advice of a jury of noble matrons, who had hitherto considered theraselves infallible. The raagnificent hospitality of Lord and Lady GranvUle, aud the great Uberality Avith which the Erabassy was conducted in their time, were the con stant theme of conversation and remark. Large dinners of the most r^chercM kind were con stantly given, Sraall and intiraate receptions were held every Monday, and large ones every Friday; whUst dije'dners and baUs on a raost magnificent scale electrified the whole of Parisian society. When Lord and Lady Granville left Paris there was a general raourning in the gay world. Their place in Parisian society has never been fiUed up, and they theraseh-es, personaUy, have never been forgotten, Hoby, the Bootmaker, op St James's Street, — Hoby was not only the greatest and most fashion able bootmaker in London, but, in spite of the old adage, "ne sutor ultra crepidam," he employed his spare tirae with considerable success as a Methodist preacher at Islington, He was said to have in his employment three hundred workmen ; and he was so great a man in his own estimation that he was apt to take rather an insolent tone with his cus- 272 HOBY, THE BOOTMAKER toraers. He was, however, tolerated as a sort of privileged person, and his irapertinence was not only overlooked, but was considered as, rather a good joke. He was a porapous fellow, with a con siderable vein of sarcastic humour, I reraember Horace Churchill, (afterwards killed in India with the rank of major-general,) who was then an ensign in the Guards, entering Hoby's shop in a great passion, saying that his boots were so Ul made that he should never employ Hoby for the future, Hoby, putting on a pathetic cast of coun tenance, called to his shopraan, " John, close the shutters. It is all over with us, I must shut up shop ; Ensign ChurchUl Avithdraws his custom from me," Churchill's fury can be better imagined than described. On another occasion the late Sir John SheUey came into Hoby's shop to complain that his top- boots had split in several places, Hoby quietly said, "How did that happen. Sir John?" " Why, in walking to my stable." "Walking to your stable!" said Hoby, with a sneer, " I made the boots for riding, not walking." Hoby was bootmaker to the Duke of Kent ; and as he was calling on H,R.H, to try on some boots, the news arrived that Lord Wellington had gained a great victory over the French array at Vittoria. The duke was kind enough to raention the glorious news to Hoby, who coolly said, " If Lord Wellington had had any other bootmaker than rayself, he never would have had his great and constant successes ; for ray boots and prayers bring his lordship out of all his difficulties " HAIRDRESSING AND VAILS. 273 One may Avell say that there is nothing lilie leather ; for Hoby died Avorth a hundred and tAveuty thousand pounds. Hoby Avas bootmaker to George III., the Prince of Wales, the royal dukes, and many officers in the array and uaA'y. His shop was situated at the top of St Jaraes's Street, at the corner of Piccadilly, next to the old Guards Club, He was bootmaker to the Duke of Wellington from his boyhood, and received innumerable orders in the duke's handwriting, both from the Peninsula and France, which he always religiously preserved, Hoby was the first man who drove about London in a tilbury. It was painted black, and drawn by a beautiful black cob. This A-ehicle was built by the inventor, Mr Tilbury, whose manufactory was, fifty years back, in a street leading from South Audley Street into Park Street, Haiedressing Fifty Years Since, and Vails TO Servants. — Nobody in the present day can con ceive the inconvenience of our raihtary costume when I first entered the Guards in 1813, or the annoyance to which we were subjected at being constantly obUged to seek the assistance of a coiffeur to powder our hair. Our comraanding officers were very severe with respect to our dress and powdering ; and I reraeraber, Avhen on guard, incurring the heavy displeasure of the late Duke of Carabridge for not haAdng a sufficient quantity ol powder on ray head, and therefore presenting a soraewhat piebald appearance, I received a strong reprimand from H.R.H,, and he threatened even to place me under arrest should I ever appear again on guard in what he was pleased to call so slovenly 274 HAIRDRESSING AND VAILS, and disgraceful a condition. The hairdresser was not only required at early daw-n, before our field- days or parades, but again in the evening, if we dined out, or went to parties or balls. The most fashionable coiffeur was Rowland, or Rouland, a French emigre His charge for cut ting hair was five shillings ; and his shop was next door to the Thatched-House Tavern in St James's Street, He was the inventor of the faraous Macas sar oU, and raade a large fortune. He came to London with the Bourbons on the breaking out of the French Revolution, and followed them back to France in 1814. When he died, he left a daughter, Madarae Colorabin, the well-known pastry-cook in the Rue de Luxerabourg. There was another custora in ray young days which has luckily fallen into disuse. If one dined at any of the great houses in London, it was con sidered absolutely necessary to give a guinea to the butler on leaving the house. One hundred and thirty years ago this very bad habit (as I ahvays considered it) prevailed to an even greater extent ; for Pope the poet, whenever he dined with the Duke of Montagu, finding that he had to give five guineas to the nuraerous servants at Montagu House, told the duke that he could not dine with hira in future unless his grace sent him five guineas to distribute among his rayrraidons. The duke, an easy, good-natured raan, used ever after, on sending an invitation to the great poet, to enclose at the sarae time an order for the tribute-money : he pre ferred doing this to breaking through a custom which had groAvn to be looked upon by servants as BURIED ALIVE, 275 a right, and the abolition of Avhich they would have considered as a heavy grievance, Tavisleton Fiennes, the late Lord Save and Sele. — Twisleton Fiennes Avas a very eccentric man, and the greatest epicure of his day. His dinners Avere worthy of the days of Vitellius or Heliogabalus. Every country, every sea,' was searched and ran sacked to find sorae ncAv delicacy for our British Sybarite, I remember, at one of his breakfasts, an oraelette being served Avhich Avas composed entirely of golden pheasants' eggs ! He 'had a very strong constitution, and would drink absynthe and curaQoa in quantities which AA'ere perfectly awful to behold. These stimulants produced no effect upon his brain ; but his health gradually gave way under the excesses of all kinds in which he indulged. He was a kind, liberal, and good-natured man, but a very odd fellow. I never shall forget the astonishment of a servant I had recommended to hira. On entering his service, John raade his appearance as Fiennes Avas going out to dinner, and asked his new master if he had any orders. He received the foUoAving answer, — " Place two bottles of sherry by my bed-side, and call me the day after to-morrow." Buried Alive. — In the retreat of the French army frora Moscow, the brave General Ornano, a Corsican, second husband of the beautiful Coratesse Walewska, and a distant relation of the Buonaparte faraily, received a severe wound frora the bursting of a shell, which killed his horse and several soldiers who were near hira. The General's aide-de-carap. 276 BURIED ALIVE. on looking round, observed Ornano lying on his back, to all appearance dead, with the blood flowing from his mouth, A surgeon soon arrived, and de clared that life was extinct. The aide-de-camp and a feAV soldiers coraraenced digging a grave ; but the ground was so hard, owing to the terrible cold which prevailed, that they could not raake it deep enough to coA'er the body, and, being pressed for time, they collected snoAV instead of earth, arranged the supposed corpse in decent order, and covered it with snow. After this had been done, the aide-de camp reported to the Emperor Napoleon, who was not far off, the loss the army had sustained in the death of General Ornano, He was only twenty-six years of age, and the youngest officer of his rank in the army. The Emperor, who was very fond of the General, was deeply grieved, and exclaimed, " Poor fellow ! he Avas one of ray best cavalry officers ! " and, turning to one of his orderlies, de sired hira to go iraraediately and find out aU about the Avound which had caused his death. The officer, in order to satisfy hiraself on this point, had the supposed corpse taken out of the snow, and, on looking at the wound, observed that the body Avas still warm, and the General consequently could not be dead. Furs and flannels were, at the officer's suggestion, heaped upon the corpse, which Avas then placed upon a stretcher, and taken to head-quarters ; after much care and perseverance, he was restored to life, to the great joy of the Eraperor and the whole army. General Ornano is now a marshal of France, and governor of the Invalides, and related the above anecdote to one of ray friends last sumraer. COUNT D'ORSAY. 277 Count D'Orsay. — In speaking of this gifted and accoraplished raan, I shall strictly confine rayself, as I have done in other instances, to his public char acter, and not enter into the details of his private life ; which are, perhaps, better left in the shade, I first saw hira at an evening party given in 1816, by his grandraother, the well-knoAvn Madarae Crawford, in the Rue d'Anjou Saint Honore, He was then sixteen years old, and he appeared to be a general favourite, owing to his remarkable beauty and pleasing manners. His father and mother were both present, and did rae the honour to invite me to their house in the Rue Mont Blanc, now called the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin, They occu pied th'3 apartment in Avhich the celebrated com poser Rossini now liA'es. D'Orsay's father, justly surnaraed " Le Beau d'Orsay," was one of the hand somest men in the French army ; he was one of Napoleons generals, and distinguished hiraself in Spain, particularly at the battle of Salamanca. I believe, and I like to tiiink, that had Count d'Orsay fallen into good hands, he might have been a great many things that he was not. Unfortunate circumstances, which entangled him as with a fatal web frora his early youth, dragged him dowuAvards and led hira step by step to his ruin. On these peculiar circurastances, I shall not dweU, They are knoAvn to aU, and cannot be palliated. But he was a grand creature in spite of aU this ; beautiful as the Apollo Belvidere in his outwai'd forra, full of health, life, spirits, wit, and gaiety, radiant and joy ous, the admired of all admirers : — such Avas D'Orsay Avhen I first knew hira. If the Count had been born with a fortune of a hundred thousand pounds a year. 278 COUNT D'ORSAY, he would have been a great man. He loved raoney, not for raoney 's sake, but for what it could procure. He was generous even to ostentation, and he had a real pleasure in giving even what he hiraself had borrowed. He AA'as born Avith princely tastes and ideas, and would have heartily despised a raan who could haA'e sat down contented in a siraple dwelling- place, with a bad cook and a sraall corapetence. He possessed in a great degree the faculty of pleasing those whom he wished to attract. His smile Avas bright and genial, his manner full of charm, his conversation original and arausing, and his artistic taste undeniable. It raight have been ob jected that this taste was somewhat too gaudy ; but the brilliant tints with which he liked to surround himself suited his style of beauty, his dress, and manner. When I used to see him driving in his tilbury sorae thirty years ago, I fancied that he looked like sorae gorgeous dragon-fly skimraing through the air ; and though all was dazzling and showy, yet there was a kind of harraony which precluded any idea or accusation of bad taste. All his iraitators fell between the Scylla and Charybdis of tigerisra and charlatanisra ; but he escaped those quicksands, though, perhaps, soraewhat narrowly, and in spite of a gaudy and alraost eccentric style of dress. Many of his bon-mots and clever sayings have been cited by his nuraerous friends and admirers; but perhaps there Avas raore humour and d pro pos in the majority of thera than actual Avit. There was also rauch in his charraing manner, and the very successful mixture of French aud English Avhich he had adopted in couA'ersation, I call to COUNT D'ORSAY, 279 mind a story of him not generally known. When he first came to England as a very young raan, and Avas about twenty- tAVO years of age, he Avas invited to dine at Holland House, Avhere he was seated next to Lady Holland herself, who supposed that the hand some stranger was a shy young man, awe-struck by her majestic selfishness. Owing to a consider able abdorainal development, her ladyship was con tinually letting her napkin slip frora her lap to the ground, and as often as she did so, she srailed blandly, but authoritatively, on the French Count, and asked him to pick it up. He politely complied several times, but, at last, tired of this exercise, he said, to her great surprise, " Ne ferais-je pas mieux, Madarae, de ra'asseoir sous la table, afin de pouvoir vous passer la serviette plus rapidement ? " On another occasion, the well-known Tom Raikes, whose letters and meraoirs haA'e been lately pub lished, and Avho was a tall, large man, very much marked Avith the small-pox, having one day written an anonymous letter to D'Orsay, containing some piece of impertinence or other, had closed it Avith a wafer, and stamped it Avith something resembling the top of a thirable. The Count soon discovered who was the writer, and in a room full of company thus addressed hira — " Ha ! ha ! ray good Raikes, the next tirae you write an anonyraous letter, you must not seal it with your nose ! " I cannot conclude without giving sorae descrip tion of the personal appearance of one who reigned pre-eminent in the fashionable circles of London and Paris, He was rather above six feet in height, and Avhen I first kncAv him, he raight have served as a model for a statuary. His neck was long, his 280 COUNT D'ORSAY, shoulders broad, and his waist narrow, arid though he was, perhaps, somewhat underlirabed, nothing could surpass the beauty of his feet and ankles. His dark chestnut hair hung naturaUy in long waving curls ; his forehead was high and wide, his features regular, and his coraplexion glowed with radiant health. His eyes were large and of a light hazel colour, he had fuU lips and very white teeth, but a little apart ; which sometimes gave to the generally amiable expression of his countenance a rather cruel and sneering look, such as one sees in the heads of some of the old Roman emperors. He was wonderfuUy strong and active, and excelled in manly exercises. He was a fine horseman, a good swordsman, and a fair shot, I knew hira intiraately, and saw a great deal of hira. He had an amusing naivete in speaking of his own personal advan tages, I reraeraber on one occasion, when about to fight a duel, he said to his second. Monsieur D , who was making the preliminary arrangeraents, "You know, ray dear friend, I am not on a par with ray antagonist : he is a very ugly fellow, and if I wound hira in the face, he won't look much the Avorse for it ; but on my side it ought to be agreed that he should not aim higher than my chest, for if ray face should be spoiled, "' ce serait vrairaent dora- raage,'" He said this with such a bearaing smile, and looked so handsorae and happy, that his friend. Monsieur D , fully agreed with hira. Though his tastes, pursuits, and habits were thoroughly raanly, yet he took as much care of his beauty as a woraan raight have done. He was in the habit of taking perfuraed baths, and his friends THE SPAFIELDS RIOTS, 281 reraeraber the enormous gold dressing-case, which it required two men to carry, and which used to be the companion of all his excursions. Peace be to his ashes! it will be long before the world looks upon his like again. The Spafields Riots. — The years 1816 and 1817 were a most dangerous period. The spirit of the people of England, exasperated by heavy taxation, the high price of bread, and many iniquitous laws and restrictions now happily done away with by successive liberal administrations, was of the worst possible nature. In the riots and meetings of those troublous tiraes, the raob really raeant mischief ; and had they been accustomed to the use of arras, and well driUed, they raight have coraraitted as great excesses as the ruffians of 1793 in France. On the 15th Noveraber 1816, a monster meet ing was held in Spafields, to petition the Prince Regent, Early in the raorning of that day, I was sent Avith a company of the Guards to occupy the prison of Spafields, and to act, if necessary, in aid and support of the civil power. On our arrival, we found that a troop of horse artUlery, with their guns, had abeady taken up their position within the yard. We lost no time in making loopholes in the walls, in the event of an attack from Avithout, and made ready for action. The raob, which was not very nuraerous on our arrival, had by this tirae increased to an enorraous raultitude. Sixty or seventy thou sand persons must have been present. Their prin cipal leaders appeared to be Major Cartwright, Gale Jones, and the notorious Henry Hunt, the blacking-maker. The major was an old gray headed 282 THE SPAFIELDS RIOTS, vulgar-looking man. Hunt was a large, power fully, raade fellow, who raight have been taken for a butcher : he always wore a white hat ; which was, I never knew why, in those days supposed to be an erablera of very advanced liberal, or even republican opinions. These two demagogues, and two or three more of the leaders of the raob, got into a cart, that had been brought up as a sort of tribune or rostrura, frora which they harangued the people. More violent and treasonable discourses it was im possible to raake ; and the huge raultitude rent the air Avith their shouts of applause. After a tirae, a raagistrate and some constables appeared, and sumraoned the people to disperse ; and, at the sarae raoraent, a raessenger arrived from the prison, who whispered in Hunt's ear that if the mob comraitted any outrage, or raade any disturb ance, and did not quietly disperse, they would be dealt with by the soldiers; who had orders above all to pick off the ringleaders, should any attack be raade upon the prison. This inteUigence, conveyed to the gentleraen in the cart by one of their friends, produced a very marked effect. In a very short tirae they got down, as they seemed to consider themselves in rather an exposed position, declared the raeeting at an end, and hurried off, leaving the crowd to follow thera ; which they shortly after wards did. Several years after this CA'ent, at the time of the Reform Bill, Hunt was elected member of Parha- ment for Preston, beating Mr Stanley, the present Earl of Derby, and I was elected for the imraaculatc borough of Stafford, I Avell recoUect, but cannot describe, the araazeraent of the blacking-man when LOUIS NAPOLEON— "MAD AS A HATTER." 283 I told hira one evening, in the sraoking-room of the House of Coraraons, that if any attack had been raade upon the prison at Spafields, I had given my raen orders to pick off JMajor Cartwright, hira self, and one or two raore Avho Avere in the cart. Hunt Avas perfectly astonished. He became very red, and his eyes seemed to flash fire, " What, sir ! do you mean to say you Avould have been capable of such an act of barbarity V " Yes," said I ; " and I almost regret you did not give us the opportunity, for your aim that day was to create a revolution, and you would have richly deserved the fate which you so narrowly escaped by the cowardice or lukewarmness of your fol- loAvers," Mad as a Hatter. — Towards the close of the year 1848, it was ray good fortune, during a resi dence of sorae weeks at Brighton, to see a good deal of my old acquaintance, Lord Alvanley, Though he was then very Ul, and suffering great pain, 1 never knew him in better spirits, more fuU of bril hant flashes of wit and arausing anecdotes. On one occasion I happened to call at his house Avith ray old commanding-officer, Arthur Upton, Avhen, in the course of a conversation on France, he asked my opinion on the revolution, and of Prince Louis Napoleon's chance of being naraed President of the Republic, Alvanley inforraed us that he had not very long before passed sorae days with the Prince at Colonel Dawson Darner's country seat, and he observed that he had never raet with a more agreeable person ; that the Prince was very communicative, and Avould sit up smoking ciga- 284 HARRINGTON HOUSE AND LORD PETERSHAM. rettes tiU two or three o'clock in the morning ; and that upon one occasion, in a long political discus sion, he had said, araong other things — " It is fated that ere long I shall become eraperor of France, aA'enge the defeat of Waterloo, and drive the Austrians out of Italy ; and the tirae for this is not far distant," On the foUowing raorning. Lord Alvanley related what he had heard to Colonel Daraer, who observed — "Prince Louis is a charraing person — so gentle manlike and pleasing in manner, so accomplished and well-inforraed. He has a thousand good and agreeable qualities, but on the subject of politics, ray dear Alvanley, he is as mad as a hatter !" Harrington House and Lord Petersham, — When our array returned to England in IS 14, my young friend, Augustus Stanhope, took rae one after noon to Harrington House, in Stableyard, St Jaraes's, where I was introduced to Lord and Lady Harring ton, and all the Stanhopes, On entering a long gallery, I found the whole faraily engaged in their serapiternal occupation of tea-drinking. Neither in Nankin, Pekin, nor Canton was the teapot raore assiduously and constantly replenished than at this hospitable raansion, I was made free of the cor poration, if I may use the phrase, by a cup being handed to rae ; and I raust say that I never tasted any tea so good before or since. As an example of the undeviating tea-table habits of the house of Harrington, General Lincoln Stan hope once told rae, that after an absence of several years in India, he raade his reappearance at Har rington House, and found the family, as he had left HARRINGTON HOUSE AND LORD PETERSHAM. 285 them on his departure, drinking tea in the long gallery. On his presenting hiraself, his father's only observation and speech of welcome to him Avas, "' Hallo, Linky, my dear boy ! delighted to see you. Have a cup of tea 1 " I Avas then taken to Lord Petershara's apartraents, Avhere we found his lordship, one of the chief dandies of the day, employed in making a particular sort of blacking, which he said Avould eventually supersede CA'ery other. The room into which we were ushered was raore like a shop than a gentleraan's sitting- room : aU round the walls were shelves, upon which were placed tea-canisters, containing Congou, Pekoe, Souchong, Bohea, Gunpowder, Russian, and many other teas, all the best of the kind ; on the other side of the room were beautiful jars, with naraes, in gUt letters, of innuraerable kinds of snuff, and all the necessary apparatus for moistening and mixing. Lord Petershara's raixture is stUl well known to all tobacconists. Other shelves and raany of the tables were covered with a great number of raagnificent snuff-boxes ; for Lord Petershara had perhaps the finest coUection in England, and was supposed to have a fresh box for every day in the year, I heard him, on the occasion of a dehghtful old light-blue Sevres box he was using being admired, say, in his lisping way — "Yes, it is a nice summer box, but would not do for winter wear." In this museura there were also innuraerable canes of very great value. The Viscount was likewise a great Maecenas araong the tailors, and a particular kind of great-coat, when I was a young raan, waa caUed a Petersham, In person. Lord Petersham was tall and hand- 286 TOWNSHEND, THE BOW-STREET OFFICER. some, and possessed a particularly Avinning smile. He very rauch resembled the pictures of Henry IV, of France, and frequently Avore a dress not unlike that of the celebrated monarch. His carriages Avere unique of their kind : they were entirely brown, with brown horses and harness. The groom, a tall youth, was dressed in a long broAvn coat reaching to his heels, and a glazed hat with a large cockade. It is said that Lord Petershara's devotion to brown was caused by his having been desperately in love Avith a very beautiful widow bearing that narae. In addition to his other eccentricities. Lord Peter shara never ventured out of doors till six p,m. His raanners were decidely affected, and he spoke with a kind of lisp ; but in spite of his little foibles. Lord Petershara was a thorough gentleman, and was be loved by all who knew him, Townshend, the Bow-Street Officer, — Towns hend, the famous Bow-Street officer, when I knew him, was a little fat raan with a flaxen wig, kersey mere breeches, a blue straight-cut coat, and a broad- briraraed white hat. To the raost daring courage he added great dexterity and cunning ; and was said, in proprid persond, to have taken raore thieves than all the other Bow-Street officers put together. He frequently accorapanied raail-coaches when the Governraent required large suras of money to be conveyed to distant parts of the country. Upon one occasion, when Townshend Avas to act as escort to a carriage going to Reading, 'he took Avith hira the faraous Joe Manton, the gunraaker, Avho was always ready for a lark, and was as brave as steel. Soon after reaching Hounslow three foot- TOWNSHEND, THE BOW-STREET OFFICER. 287 pads stopped the coach, and Joe Manton was pre paring to try the effect of one of his deadly barrels upon thera, when Townshend cried out — "Stop, Joe, don't fire ! — let rae talk to the gentleraen." The raoraent the robbers heard ToAvnshend's voice they took to their heels ; but he had been able to identify thera, and a fcAv raonths afterwards they were taken, tried, and, upon Townshend's evidence, sent to Botany Bay, The short, corpulent police-officer was, for his daring exploits and general good conduct, selected by the Horae Office to attend at drawing-rooras, IcA'ees, and all state occasions ; and he becarae a kind of personage, and was rauch noticed by the Royal Faraily and the great people of the day : every one went up to speak to 'Townshend. He was eccentric and arausing, and somewhat inclined to take advantage of the familiarity with which he was treated ; but he was a sort of privileged person, and could say what he liked. On one occasion the Duke of Clarence recom mended Townshend to publish his memoirs, which he thought would be very interesting, ToAvnshend, who had become soraeAvhat deaf, seemed rather surprised, but said he would obey H.R.H.'s com mands. A few weeks afterwards, Townshend waa on duty at Carlton House, when the Duke asked him if he had fulfiUed his proraise. His ansAver was — " 0 sir, you 've got me into a devil of a scrape ! I had begun to write my amours, as you desired, when Mrs Townshend caught me in the act of writ ing them, and swore she 'd be revenged ; for you know, your Royal Highness, I was obliged to divulge 288 TOWNSHEND, THE BOW-STREET OFFICER, many secrets about women, for which she'U never forgive rae," When the Duke of Clarence becarae king, and was going down to prorogue Parliaraent, the Master of the Horse had not got the state carriage ready in tirae ; and the King, in a fit of anger against Lord Albemarle, swore he would order a hackney-coach and go to the House in that humble vehicle. Upon which Townshend, to the amazement of every one, cried out from behind a screen — " WeU said, sir ; I think your Majesty is d — ' — d right," The King, very much surprised and amused, called out — " Is that you, Townshend 1 " "Yes, sir; I ara here to see that your Majesty has fair play ! " At one of Queen Charlotte's drawing-rooras — I think the last before her death, which was held at old Buckinghara House — an iraraense crowd assem bled, and in going up the stairs rauch confusion arose araong the ladies ; for as no order was kept, and every one wished to get first into the presence of royalty, rauch rushing and squeezing took place, loud shrieks were heard, and several ladies fainted. I was on guard on that day, and doing what I could to preserve order, when ToAvnshend called out to rae to conduct a foreign lady, who had fallen and nearly fainted on the staircase, to the top of the landing-place, I did so, and brought her into the presence of the Queen ; when a gentleraan, in very good English, thanked me for the courtesy I had sheAvn to his wife, the Duchess of Orleans, (after wards Queen Marie Amelie,) MADEMOISELLE DUTHE. 289 Mademoiselle DdthjS, — This celebrated cour tezan, whose fame in the days of the grandfathers of the present generation equalled the renown of the Laises or Phrynes of ancient Greece, or that of the Imperias and Marozias of the Rorae of the Middle Ages, Uved with great splendour and magnificence in Paris before the first French Revolution, The old Lord Egremont, a man of iraraense wealth, who had then lately come of age, and the Count d'Artois, afterwards Charles X,, were rivals in her affections, and vied with each other in the most reckless pro digality. Her splendid mansion, and her carriages, which were covered with gold, and drawn by eight cream-coloured horses, were the admiration of all Paris, When the Revolution Droke out in France, this fair and fraU beauty took example frora her betters, and eraigrated to England, MaderaoiseUe Duthe was the idol of the young men of fashion ; and frora the pictures of her at this time, she must have been surpassingly beautiful. Her principal admirers in England were Bob Byng, brother of old Byng, for so many years meraber for Middlesex, Perregaux, the rich banker, who had emigrated, and Mr Lee, The younger brother of the latter gentleman acted the part of raaster of the ceremonies to the fair Frenchworaan, gave her his arm in all the public proraenades, and escorted her to the play and opera on all occasions. The elder Lee, her favoured inaraorato, though dotingly fond of her, would never appear Adth her in public. The Duke of Queensberry, so well known by the name of old Q, and who was a great friend of MaderaoiseUe Duth^, (as he was of aU persons eminent in that lady's profession,) asked her the 290 A STRANGE RENCONTRE, meaning of her conduct with respect to the two brothers. She replied, with unblushing effrontery, " The younger Lee is ' mon Lit de parade ;' the elder, ' raon Lit de repos,'" On the restoration of the Bourbons, MaderaoiseUe Duthe, in possession of a considerable fortune, but no longer beautiful and young, returned to Paris, and resided at a fine house in the Rue .Marbceuf, in the Champs Elysees, One of the famous gilt car riages given her by Lord Egremont again figured in the public promenades ; but, instead of being adraired, was rauch laughed at, as the style and shape were quite out of fashion. At her death it was sold to the elder Franconi, for theatrical per- forraances. MaderaoiseUe Duthe, in addition to a beautiful face, was supposed to have the finest figure in the world, A picture of her is extant, which I have seen. It was painted by one of the first artists in .France. She is represented in aU the glory of her youth and beauty, at full length, reclining on a couch, very much in the costume of our raother Eve, She is said to have been full of wit and cleverness, and possessed a fund of curious anec dotes about everything and everybody, Mr Lee, whose fortune was much injured by her extravagance, bade her fareweU in a single Latin line, which he told her her friend the Duke of Queensberry, of whom he was rather jealous, would translate ; it was, " Non possum te cum vivere, nee sine te," A Strange Rencontre, — In the spring of 1815 — I think it was in the month of March — when the ADMIRAL SIR RICHARD STRACHAN. 291 Duke of York was returning from the theatre. accompanied by Mrs Johnstone, the actress, his carriage broke down in the Strand, opposite to the Government engraver's, Mr Sylvester's; who, per ceiving a crowd asserabled, went out, and knowing the lady, offered her and the royal Duke refuge until the servant brought a coach for them, Mrs Sylvester, hearing the noise in the street, left her draAving-room, where there was a small CA'cning concert, to see what had happened, when, to her surprise, she recognised her friend Mrs Johnstone, After sorae whispering between them, and after sorae hesitation, the Duke of York said — " With the permission of Mrs Sylvester, we will go up-stairs." Accordingly they proceeded to the draAving-room, where, to the Duke's astonishment, he was received by his brother, the Duke of Sussex, who was listening to the singing of his friend, the faraous Mrs Billing- ton, The two royal brothers had not for some time before been on speaking terms ; but this sudden rencontre was the means of reconcUing thera, and they ever after had a raost affectionate and brotherly regard for one another, Mrs Sylvester, nie Price, was a lady of an an cient Welsh famUy, the niece of the celebrated Dr Price, the great calculator. She was handsome and accomplished, I had the honour to know her, and it was from her lips I received the above rather curious anecdote. Admiral Sir Richard Strachan, — This brave sailor was famous for many daring actions and 292 ADMIRAL SIR RICHARD STRACHAN, gallant feats of arms ; but wiU perhaps be best knoAvn to posterity by the celebrated verses on the Walcheren expedition : — " Sir Richard, longing to be at 'em, Was waiting for the Earl of Chatham ; The Earl of Chatham, all forlorn. Was waiting for Sir Richard Strachan !" In the piping times of peace, when there was no longer any hostile fleet to watch, or stray French squadron to capture, the veteran turned his whole attention to the worship and adrairation of the fair sex ; and displayed the sarae ardour in the pursuit of a pretty girl or handsorae raatron, as he had forraerly shcAvn in the chase of a fine frigate or tight little schooner. His field of action, which had once been the Channel, the North Sea, or the Mediterranean, was now confined to Bond Street, Piccadilly, or the squares and parks. He always rode a gray horse ; and the " Old Adrairal " was as well known to the Londoners of his day as the Iron Duke was to every one in town some twenty or thirty years ago. In his sixty-first year. Sir Richard fell desperately in love with a young girl, daughter of a man who kept a china shop in South Audley Street ; and, though married and the father of a large family, he persecuted this young beauty with his attentions from morning till night. He would pass and repass the house where her father lived at least a hundred times a day, and send her gigantic bouquets and presents Avithout number. These proceedings created much scandal in the neighbourhood, and the father of the girl was deter mined to put a stop to the adrairal's Avicked design to run off with his daughter. It had been pro- ADMIRAL SIR RICHARD STRACHAN, 293 posed by Sir Richard to the fair Sophy R that she was to meet him at nine p.m. opposite Fladong's Hotel, Avhere a carriage and four would be in readi ness. She appeared to agree to this proposal ; but the admiral, on arriving at the place of rendez vous, found, instead of the girl, her father and brother arraed with bludgeons, with which they belaboured hira to their hearts' content. The old Lovelace defended himself as best he could tUl the watchraen in the neighbourhood carae to the rescue, and took all parties to Marlborough Street, Avhere they remained in durance vUe during the night. The foUowing morning, they were brought be fore the raagistrate, who was proceeding to interro gate thera, when Adrairal Lord Gardner entered to swear an affidavit ; and perceiAdng Sir Richard in a raiserable pUght, and surrounded by a raotley crowd, exclaimed, in true raelodraraatic style — " What do I see ! Dicky Strachan a prisoner, and his colours struck ! irapossible — impossible ! " The raagistrate begged an explanation of what had occurred on the previous night, when Sir Richard stated that he had been attacked and severely beaten by two raen with bludgeons ; but he refused to swear that the persons present were the culprits, for the night was dark, and he could not identify thera. In short, though he had been so badly treated, the gaUant veteran would not say a word against the father and brother of his beloved Sophy. The father, however, carried his point, for the adrairal ceased cruising in the china seas, and the gaUant gray and his rider were never again seen in the neighbourhood of South Audley Street, 294 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY, The Bonaparte Family. — It was my good for tune, during a winter at Rome, to come into contact with several merabers of this iUustrious faraily, then in exile, I have had the honour of being introduced to Madarae Mfere, (as the mother of the great Na poleon was called ;) and have often met La Reine Hortense, mother of Napoleon III. (she was then styled Duchesse d6 St Leu,) in her promenades on the Monte Pincio, or the gardens of the various palaces open to the public, I have also seen at Rorae Jerome Bonaparte, ex- king of Westphalia, with his devoted wife, a daugh ter of the king of Wurtemberg : she remained faithful and true to her exiled husband, when no stone was left unturned in the political world to raake her withdraw her allegiance frora him, Le Roi Jerorae, as he was generaUy caUed, was at the time of which I write a very handsome man, bear ing a striking resemblance to his brother the Em peror Napoleon, He had the same deep-set eye, the square, massive jaw, the broad, thoughtful brow, the pallid coraplexion, the deUcately-formed white hand, but he was a good deal taUer and slighter. The ex-queen was a true Gerraan in appearance, fat, fair, and forty, with that good-natured min- agere look which is a characteristic of the Teutonic race. Under that calm housewife-like exterior, you would never have supposed her to be the enduring, heroic wife and mother. If report speaks true, her early raarried life with her handsorae but fickle spouse had not been a happy one ; and raany thought that the neglected wife and injured queen might not be sorry to revenge herself when the tables turned in 1815. But those who thus judged. THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 295 little knew that noble-hearted princess, who, in the days of adA'ersity, clung yet raore faithfully to the husband of her youth ; and if she failed to raake Le Roi Jerorae a constant husband, there can be no doubt that she won his esteera and affection. The palace occupied by the ex-king and queen was one of the finest in Rorae, Strangers Avere perraitted to Adsit it, and gazed with a raelancholy interest on the various relics of departed greatness which the splendid apartments contained. I re member being particularly struck by some exquisite hkenesses of the Princess Pauline Borghese, whose perfect beauty, both of face and figure, has gone down to posterity, thanks to Canova's iraraortal statue of her ! Sorae of her old admirers, who are stiU ahve, affirra that the only woraan whose beauty can be corapared to the Princess Pauline's is the Countess Castiglione, and that the one is as vain and capricious as was the other. Madarae Mfere was the very liAdng iraage of the statue Canova raade of her. Her features were classical, her eyes large and expressive, and her bearing fuU of imperial dignity and grace. There was no pride in her manner, but you saw the con sciousness of greatness — the stately calra as of the reflected light frora her son's glory. Whatever La Reine Hortense might have been in youth, when I saw her she was no longer hand some ; and, to say the honest truth, I must confess that I have ray doubts as to her ever having been remarkable for personal attractions. But the charra of her raanners, and the grace of every raoveraent, were indisputable facts ; and I think she has trans mitted to her son. Napoleon IIL, much of that 296 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY, peculiar fascination which has subjugated and gained over to hira so raany hostile spirits. The Duchesse de St Leu was universally allowed to be one of the raost accomplished and amiable woraen of her day. Her voice, though not very powerful, was extreraely sweet, and her rausical taste and science were reraarkable : she drew beautifuUy also, and possessed an albura filled with likenesses taken by herself. Her conversation was pleasant and piquant, without the slightest raixture of raale- volence or iU-nature ; her tact was exquisite ; and her generosity unequalled. During the whole time of her prosperity, it may be safely said that she never raade a single enemy ; and she bore her ad versity with a dignity and unrepining siraplicity beyond all praise. She weU deserved the alraost idolatrous devotion and reverence with which her son cherishes the memory of his most araiable and excellent mother, Louis, the ex-king of HoUand, 'I once saw at Florence, and he struck rae as being a heaAy and unintellectual-looking raan, Joseph, the ex-king of Spain, raust, in his youth, have been very handsorae ; but he had a listless and weak expression of coun tenance, which accorded weU with his character. As to the Eraperor himself, he was pointed out to me, at a distance, on the field of Waterloo ; but beyond a white horse and a dark coat, I could see nothing, and I never had another opportunity of beholding him. All anecdotes of this great man are interesting, and I heard a few details respecting him in 1820, frora an intiraate friend of mine, the late Count B , who was one of his household for many THE BONAPARTE FAJIILY, 297 years, and which I do not reraeraber to have seen published. The Eraperor, said the Count, though at tiraes very raagnificent, and knowing (as his nephew does) how to reward services done to the country, was a raan of rauch order in all his doraes- tic arrangements, and would not allow certain sums, which he had laid down and allotted for special pur poses, to be exceeded upon any account. He knew to a penny what was spent every day in his house hold. He gave one hundred francs for his own food, which was very simple, and allowed the Grand Marechal of the palace. General Bertrand, twenty francs a head for the persons who dined habitually at his table, and forty francs for those whom the Emperor invited to dinner. Napoleon generaUy dined alone, except on Sundays, when sorae of the most favoured raerabers of his family Avere adraitted to his table. A roast fowl was kept continually ready for his dinner, as the great man rarely dined at the same hour, and when he ordered dinner, expect ed it to be served immediately. His beverage was Chambertin and water. With his abstemious habits, and a raind and body in constant actiAdty, he did not raerit the infliction of groAving fat, which he suffered from during the last years of his life. The Eraperor allowed no one to approach hira too famUiarly, and ought, therefore, to have treated his inferiors Avith deference ; but good breeding was not the Emperor's forte, and he was accustomed to see his playful pinches received by his courtiers (and no prince ever had more servile ones) as the highest earthly favour. One day he so far forgot hiraself as to try the unpleasant caress of ear-pinching on 298 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. Dr Halle, one of the luminaries of medical science. The doctor, raore surprised than flattered at this pungent raark of imperial favour, observed, with dignity — " Sire, vous me faites bcaucoup de mal," This remark, raade respectfully but firraly, prevented a repetition of this unpleasant liberty. One of the great ladies of the Faubourg St Ger main, whose son held a place in the imperial house hold, was obliged once or twice a year to put in an appearance, and make her courtesy to the Emperor and Empress, Napoleon, on one of these occasions, after fixing his eagle glance upon the lady, said, in an irritated voice — " Je sais que vous ne ra'airaez pas," The lady, with rauch presence of raind, replied, " Sire, je ne suis encore qu'k I'adrairation," Napoleon I, had not the courtesy and perfect breeding of the present Eraperor, He took a spite ful pleasure in embarrassing women by disagreeable questions and remarks in public ; and the kind and gentle Josephine had often much to do in healing the wounds her husband had made. However, it sometimes happened that the rude question or re raark made in public was followed up by sorae private raessage of quite another nature. It has been supposed by raany that the hatred with which Napoleon hunted down the beautiful Madarae Rg- camier, took its first origin in the admiration her beauty had inspired, and his displeasure at seeing his addresses rejected. Just as the famous Madame de Stael's anger against hira, the " spretae injuria forraae," originated in the disdain with which he met her marked advances. THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON I ATTHE HEAD OF HIS STAFF PARIS AFTER THE PEACE, 299 But, in spite of these spots on the sun, one may say of Napoleon I. what Bolingbroke said of the Duke of Marlborough, " He Avas so great a man, that I have forgotten all his faults," Paris after the Peace, — In 1815 and the fol lowing years there were gathered together in Paris aU the flower of English society — men of fashion and distinction, beautiful raatrons and their still lovelier daughters, A history of aU that occurred in those days would afford arausing raaterials for the pen of the novelist, and tickle agreeably the ears of scandal-loAdng people, I shall, however, content myself with recording sorae of ray own souvenirs. Lord Castlereagh was the pre-eminent star of the autumn of 1815, — "the observed of all observers," He was here, there, and everywhere. Indeed, the mass of business he had to transact was so iraraense, and the fatigue he had to undergo so great, that he was corapeUed to spend several hours each day in a bath ; his nights being generaUy passed without sleep. His bath was always taken at the Bains Chinois, at the corner of the Rue de la Michodi^re, He was there sharapooed by the celebrated Fleury, and recruited his exhausted faculties by dozing for an hour or two. His favourite proraenade was the gallery of the Palais Royal, In his walks he was alraost always alone, and used to dress very siraply, never wearing any orders or decorations. On the other hand. Lady Castlereagh astonished the French by the raagnificence of her diaraonds. At the balls and parties she used to be followed about by envious women, affecting to admire, but looking daggers aU the whUe, On one occasion I heard a French lady 300 PARIS AFTER THE PEACE, exclaira, "England is renowned for beautiful woraen ; but when they are ugly, ' elles ne le sont pas k-demi,' " But this reraark was as false as it was Ul-natured, for Lady Castlereagh was rather handsome than otherwise. The raagnificent saloons of the noblesse in the Faubourg St Gerraain, and the gorgeous hdtels of the ambassadors and ministers of the Allied Powers, were thronged with fair ladies of aU nations, Ma darae Edraond de Perigord, who died lately as Duchesse de Sagan, was reraarkable for her wit and beauty. She was all-powerful with her uncle. Prince Talleyrand, and was a sort of queen in the diplo- raatic world. The Vicoratesse de Noailles was the Lady Jersey of the world of fashion, and though her face was not pretty, she, by her graceful tournure, skilful toilette, and clever conversation, drew after her a host of adrairers, I raight also narae the Princesse de Beauveau and her daughters, the Coratesse d'Audenarde, with her splendid figure, Madame de Vaudreuil, with her handsome face and beautiful hands, the handsorae Madarae de Gourieff, the two Countesses Potoska, and, though last, not least in my recoUection, the lovely Princess Bagra- tion, with her fair hair and delicately-formed figure. The Princess never wore anjrthing but white India muslin, clinging to her form and revealing it in all its perfection. Among the English beauties were Lady Conyng ham, and her daughter. Lady Elizabeth ; .Lady Oxford, and her three daughters ; Lady Sydney Smith, and her two beautiful relatives, the Misses Rurabold : one of whora, when aheady in the " sere and yeUow leaf" of old raaidisra, raarried Baron PARIS AFTER THE PEACE, 301 Delraar, a rich banker, and, puffed up with par venu pride, ruled over Parisian society with a rod of iron. The Duke of Devonshire, then young, graceful, and distinguished, was hunted down by raothers and daughters with an activity, zeal, and perse verance — and, I ara sorry to add, a vxdgarity — which those only can conceive who have beheld the British huntress in full cry after a duke. It was amusing to see how the ambitious raatrons watched every raoveraent, and how furious they becarae if any other girl Avas raore favoured than their own daughters by the attention of the raonarch of the Peak. The young ladies, on their side, would not engage theraselves with any one until aU hope of the Duke asking them to dance was at an end. But as soon as he had selected a partner, the same young ladies would go in search of those whom they had rejected, and endeavour to get opposite or somewhere near him, I reraeraber seeing a serious quarrel between two great ladies, who were only prevented frora coming to extremities by- the tiraely intervention of our ambassadress. Lady Elizabeth Stuart. There were at this tirae raany men of rank and fortune among our countrymen — Lords Surrey, Sunderland, Gros venor, Clare; Messrs Beaumont, Leigh, Montague, Standish, &c. Some of these were particular in their attentions to Lady Elizabeth Conyngham, but her mother, who was bent on securing a ducal coronet for her handsorae daughter, discouraged all attempts that were raade in less high quarters. Rumour had even then whispered that, owing to family secrets of a very peculiar nature, the Duke 302 PARIS AFTER, THE PEACE, of Devonshire had entered into a soleran engage raent never to raarry ; and though I haA-e reason to believe that this was entirely false, it is certain that he lived and died a bachelor. Besides this, he was always considered by those who knew him well to be very unlikely to fall in loA'e Avith any one. While the Duke was being made up to in this very marked manner. Lord Sunderland (the late Duke of Marlborough) fell desperately in love with Lady E. C, and proposed to her. Lady C, re fused hira, giAdng as a pretext her daughter's ex trerae youth; but in reality, hoping against hope, that the besieged Duke of Devonshire would sur render and propose. But whilst the worthy Mar chioness was indulging in these raatriraonial dreams, " the favourite bolted," and a few years after. Lady E. C, raarried Lord Strathaven, (now Marquis of Huntly,) a very handsorae man, and was till her laraented death universaUy beloved and esteeraed by all who knew her. About this tirae (but I raay soraetiraes raake a mistake in the exact date of my souvenirs) the Duke of Gloucester arrived in Paris. He raade him self conspicuous in aiding the elopement of Mr (afterwards Sir Charles) Shakerly Avith Mademoi selle d'Avaray, daughter of the Duke d'Avaray, an intiraate friend of Louis XVIII, The young lady was only seventeen years of age, and very hand sorae. It was the only case I reraeraber of a young French lady running away frora her father's house, and the sensation created by such an extraordinary occurrence was very great. The raarriage, as run away raarriages usually are, was a very unhappy one; and the quarrels of the ill-raatched couple were THE OPERA IN PARIS IN 1815, 303 SO violent that the police had to interfere. Unfor tunately the fair lady having once eloped, thought she raight try the same experiment a second time, and one cold Avinter's night she decaraped frora a ball at the Austrian arabassador's, with a black- haired Spanish Don, the Marquis d'Errara, The Opera in Paris in 1815, — The EngUsh flocked to the opera, and occupied sorae of the best boxes. The corps de ballet was at that tirae very efficient, and possessed sorae of the hand- soraest woraen and best dancers in Europe, This reminds me of an amusing incident. General D , a fine old veteran of the empire, and an habitue of the coulisses at the tirae I speak of, asked me a few years since to accompany hira to the opera, which, from a prolonged absence from Paris, he had not Adsited for raany years. When we arrived, after taking a good survey with his glass, he ob served, " I find they now call the young ladies we used to caU figurantes, des rats de V opera ; I am curious to see thera again," At this raoraent a whole army of young sylphides, more or less pretty, came fluttering across the stage. My friend looked at them attentively with his lorgnette, and at last exclaimed, with a sigh, "Mais je ne reconnais plus ces rats Ik." " Je crois bien, raon General," said I, "les votres n'auraient plus de dents pour grignoter leur prochain," Amongst the most reraarkable dancers, were the inimitable Bigottini, Legros, Fanny Bias, Lacroix, Brocard, Noblet, Martin, Baron, and the short trapue Madame Montessu, with her large head, thick legs, and powerful pointes. It was a curious 304 THE OPERA IN PARIS IN 1815, sight to behold ambassadors and great state func tionaries asserabled in the foyer de danse, paying court to the danseuses. The raost conspicuous of these gentleraen were the Dukes de la Rochefou cauld, de Graraont, Fitzjaraes, and MaiUe ; aU attired in knee-breeches and opera hats, and with buckles in their shoes, and frUls and ruffles of the costliest kind. After the opera, these same per sonages retired to the Salon des Etrangers, where they generally spent an hour or two collecting aU the gossip they could hear, in order to divert the king. There was not a scandalous story that was not retaUed by those gentlemen for their master's recreation. Among our countrymen who had the entrie to the foyer or green-room. Lord Fife made himself the raost conspicuous by his unreraitting attentions to MUe, Noblet, whom he ncA'er quitted for an instant. He would carry her shawl, hold her fan, run after her Avith her scent-bottle in his hand, admire the diaraond necklace some one else had given her, or gaze in ecstasy on her pirouettes. On his return to London, the old roui would amuse George IV, with a minute description of the lady's legs, and her skill in using them. Horses' legs are frequently the cause of the ruin of numbers of our aristocracy, but in the case of Lord Fife, the beauti ful shape of the supporters of MUe, Noblet had such an effect upon the perfervidum ingenium Scoti, that he frora first to last spent nearly £80,000 on this fair daughter of Terpsichore, Another original much talked of about this time was Sir John Burke, who raarried a Miss Ball Hughes. He was known by the name of " The THE COUNTESS OF ALDBOROUGH. 305 Delegate Dandy," from having been sent on a mission to the Pope frora the Irish Catholics, He was a great frequenter of the coulisses and the gaming-houses, where he Avould be seen nightly, rushing about from room to room, chattering the Adlest French Avith unblushing effrontery; or mak ing such a disturbance as to draAV down on his head curses both loud and deep frora the garablers, Avhich, however, he received with perfect equanimity and good humour. The Countess of Aldborough, — From the first years I remeraber Paris, I became acquainted with Lady Aldborough, who had already acquired a kind of rather unenviable celebrity in the beau monde, for her bon-mots and anecdotes of a peculiar kind. She spent raany years of her long life in Paris, where she kept open house, and gave agreeable dinners, raade up of pleasant raen and good-looking women, not remarkable for any false modesty or affected prudery. Her sayings were quoted all over Europe, and she enjoyed a considerable share of popularity among a certain set, who admitted that her death (which occurred about twenty years ago) left a blank in Parisian society. It behoves me in general to deal gently with the priA-ate characters of those who have gone to their last homes, but Lady Aldborough had no prejudices, and, far from being ashamed of the irregularities of her early life, continued in her old age to glory over them, and to speak of her past exploits with as much zest and ardour as some old veteran might recount his campaigns. Like the respectable old lady in Beranger's poera, she seemed to say — U 306 THE COUNTESS OF ALDBOROUGH, " Combien je regrette Ma jambe bien faite, Mon bra-9 si dodu, Et le temps perdu ! " Lady Aldborough's language was plain and un varnished, and raany hardened men of the world have been known to blush and look aghast when this free-spoken old lady has attacked thera at her dinner-table vidth sundry searching questions re specting their tastes and habits ; in the presence per haps of their wives and daughters, who could not easily avoid hearing the stage whisper in which her reraarks were conveyed to the ears of the unwilling listeners. With a kind of cynical naivetS, Lady Aldborough has often said she was perfectly aware that many persons objected to her style of conversation, but that, unfortunately, all the wit and humour for Avhich she was celebrated lay in that kind of jesting which the over-particular considered offensive. In appearance she did not give one (at least in her later years) the impression of having been as handsome as her full-length portrait by Cosway would have led one to suppose. She was rather under the raiddle height, but weU-forraed ; and to the last preserved a sUght figure and a neat foot and ankle. Her features were regular in outline, but soraewhat sharp ; and the expression of her coun tenance was stern, hard, and restless. Her voice had none of those meUifluous tones so appreciated by Byron ; it was harsh and loud, partly, perhaps, owing to her deafness ; her manner was abrupt and unequal ; and her wit, which was undeniable, fluc tuated between levity and sarcasm. THE COUNTESS OF ALDBOROUGH. 307 She did not possess the French art of Avrapping up a joke of doubtful propriety : her Avitticisms wore no mask, and left her hearer very little chance of appearing not to understand them. When an attempt has been raade by a luckless Avife to feign innocence in the presence of a jealous husband, the old lady would tap her victim sharply on the hand Avith her fan, saying, Avith a sardonic smile, and in her clear voice, audible frora one end of the roora to the other — "You understand very weU what I mean, my dear," Lady Aldborough had a very peculiar style of dress, which she continued to adopt till the latest period of her hfe. She wore habitually, when going out in the evening, a long white veil, which was fastened to her wig, and hung down to her feet ; white satin shoes with diamond buckles, very short sleeves and petticoats, and an extremely decollete gOAvn. Every one arrived at middle age has heard of innumerable bon-mots attributed to Lady Ald borough; but, in newspaper phrase, they are gener ally "unfit for publication." It raay, to a certain degree, be her excuse that the raode of speaking in the olden time was far plainer and coarser than anything which would be tolerated now-a-days ; and even ladies of very good reputation were guilty of using queer language, and, as Pope says, of " call ing a spade a spade," En rSsume, Lady Aldborough was a woraan of good sense, and capable, if called upon seriously, of giving her opinion on important raatters, and Avith great judgment and feeling, I have known of her 308 ELECTIONEERING IN 1832— GRIMSBY, doing raany kind things to old friends, who had got into awkward scrapes ; and if she spent a good deal of raoney on herself, she was A'ery charitable, and always ready to extend a helping hand to the poor and needy. Electioneering in 1832 — Grimsby, — In 1832, I was residing in Chesterfield Street, in a house that had once belonged to Bruraraell, when Parlia raent was dissolved, A few days after this great event, which threw aU England into a state of ex citement, I received a Adsit from the old Lord Yar- borough, to ask me if I would stand for Grimsby, After some hesitation, I consented to do so, and his lordship therefore promised me his utraost support and interest — but Avith one proviso, that I would give hira ray word not to bribe, I agreed to his conditions, and started the foUoAving raorning for Lincolnshire, On arriving at Grirasby, I found that Henry Hobhouse and rayself would have a very sharp contest, and that the Tory candidates, Captain Harris, of the navy, and Mr John Shelley, were already in the field, I iraraediately cora menced my canvass, which continued for several days, and was apparently very successful When the polling comraenced, I thought myself sure of being elected, when, on the second day, an ap parently respectable man, and one of my best sup porters, carae to me and said — There are four persons of great influence to whom you must give £100 a piece. If you don't corae in, I wiU engage to return the araount to you rayself ; and if you refuse to give the raoney. you are quite sure to be beaten. ELECTIONEERING IN 1832— STAFFORD, 309 I told this gentleman that I had proraised Lord Yarborough upon my honour not to use bribery, and therefore could not break ray word, " Then the consequences be upon your OAvn head," said my friend ; Avho was, no doubt, himself one of the four influential persons Avho Avished to see my money. HoAvever, what he said was perfectly true, for the numbers at the close of the poll were — Harris, ..... 200 SheUey, 1.92 Gronow, . . . • . 187 Hobhouse, . . . . 173 Mr SheUey, who was then a rather timid young gentleman, and who is now the radical M.P, for Westminster, had been told by sorae facetious friend, that if I got beat, I firraly intended to shoot him. He, in consequence, treated me, when on the hus tings, Avith such marked and studied politeness as delighted the wicked wag and aU his friends who had been let into the secret of this foolish hoax. The Tory party did not long enjoy their triumph, for a petition was presented, which cost Lord Yar borough many thousand pounds, but unseated Harris and SheUey, A new election took place, but I had had enough of Grirasby, and did not present ray self : two Liberals were, however, returned ; and the four influential gentleraen received, I have no doubt, their £100 a piece, Stafford in 1832. — HaAdng discovered, by ex perience at Grirasby, the ill success of purity of election principles, I went down to Stafford on the dissolution in 1832, deterrained to leave no means 310 ELECTIONEERING IN 1832— STAFFORD, untried to secure my return. On the morning after my arrival at the Star Inn, which becarae the head quarters of rayself and friends, several hundred electors asserabled, in railitary array, under my windows, and on my appearance received rae with three cheers. One of the leaders of this worthy band of brothers — who, to do them justice, were no hypocrites, but came immediately to business — then spoke out thus : "Now, Gronow, my old boy, we like what we have heard about you, your principles, and all that sort of thing ; we will therefore all vote for you if " Here every raan in the crowd struck his breeches-pocket several tiraes with his open hand. After this expressive pantomime, the speaker con tinued, " You know what we raean, old felloAv 1 If not — you understand—you won't do for Stafford," His comrades loudly cheered their leader ; and I then made them a speech of some length, setting forth the principles upon which I presented myself to their notice and solicited their suffrages ; con cluding by significantly assuring them that they should all have reason to be weU satisfied with rae, I had plenty of money in those days, and was determined that no one should outbid me for the support of these worthy and independent gentle men, so I set to Avork to bribe every raan, Avoraan, and child in the ancient borough of Stafford, I engaged numerous agents, opened all the public- houses which were not already taken by my oppo nents, gave suppers every night to my supporters, kissed all their wives and children, drank their health in every sort of abominable mixture, and COUNTESS GUICCIOLL 311 secured my return against great local interest ; for, at the close of the poU, the numbers were — Chetwynd, , . 392 GronoAV, , . 253 Blount, , , 230 I sat during the whole of the first Reform Parlia ment for Stafford, but was beaten at the next general election by the long purse of Mr Holyoake, now Sir Francis Goodricke, Bart. Mr Bonham, the whipper- in of the Tory party, told me, sorae years after this tirae, that Mr Holyoake obtained his baronetcy frora Sir Robert Peel for having succeeded in beating me on this occasion. Countess Guiccioli and Madame Dodwell. — I knew Madarae GuiccioU by sight in her youthful days, when she was a celebrity, owing to her ac quaintance with Lord Byron, I was rather disap pointed with her personal appearance, as, though handsorae, she gave one raore the idea of a healthy, rosy, jolly-looking raUkraaid, than a heroine of romance, Madame Guiccioli was short in stature, and some what square-buUt ; her hair was golden, her eyes were blue, her complexion and teeth beautiful in the extrerae, and her face would have been rauch adraired had she been taller. As it was, there was a great disproportion between her colossal head and her short figure. Her bust was also on a large scale, and very fine. She was, like most Italian women, unaffected, kind, and matter-of-fact, but had nothing in physical appearance or inteUectua] 312 COUNTESS GUICCIOLL gifts to account for her having inspired a romantic passion. She was " of the earth, earthy," At the sarae period I was introduced to a person who for raany years passed for being the hand- soraest woraan in Europe — a Roman lady, who had raarried a very ugly old antiquary naraed Dod well, The lovely Theresa had been offered the choice of a convent, or this ill- washed Briton, After much weeping and gnashing of her beautiful teeth, the lady, who was then only sixteen years of age, chose the latter. Madame Dodwell was what English novelists de scribe as rather petite than otherwise, but her face Avas acknowledged by CA-ery painter, sculptor, and poet to be the most perfect in creation ; she had crisp, black waving hair, the large, hazel, alraond-shaped eye, full of Italian fire or Eastern languor, the clas sical features, the full raouth, magnificent teeth, ana clear, pale, brunette complexion, so rarely raet with. Perfectly ' illiterate, but full of wit and fun, this beautiful woraan araused herself by chaining many victims to her triumphal car; while, like a true Italian, her heart was faithful all the time to the one reigning attachraent. She talked of her own beauty with as much simple composure as a man might have in dwelling on his horse or dog. With all this self-appreciation, she was perfectly unaffected, and had none of the grimaces of an acknowledged beauty, but reraained calm and col lected in the consciousness of her own undisputed superiority, I was amused at a ball at the French ambassador's at Rome, at seeing her suddenly brought into con tact with a new star that had risen in the firmament THE LIGHT COMPANY'S POODLE, 313 of fashion — the Duchesse d'l , who had just arrived frora Paris, The Duchesse Avas some years Madame Dodwell's junior, and a formidable riA-al in raany respects. She Avas very tall, and particularly brilliant in her general effect. She was dressed in the height of the then Parisian fashion, her hair d la giraffe, rolled in high bows, and decorated with artificial flowers. She looked magnificent ; and a group of men gathered round to admire the new comer, I Avatched Madarae Dodwell, as one of her disap pointed soupirants carae up, and rather raaliciously asked her what she thought of la belle Duchesse franpaise. The indifferent look the fair signora fixed upon the rival beauty was raost arausing, and the only reraark she raade was — " Corament ! cette grande femme qui nous a apport6 le Jardin des Plantes sur la tete ! " The Light Company's Poodle and Sir F, Ponsonby, — Every regiraent has a pet of sorae sort or another. One distinguished Highland regiraent possesses a deer ; the Welsh Fusiliers a goat, which is the object of their peculiar affection, and which generally raarches with the band. The light cora pany of ray battalion of the 1st Guards, in 1813, rejoiced in a very handsorae poodle, which had, if I mistake not, been raade prisoner at Vittoria, At the coraraencement of the battle of the 9 th of De ceraber 1813, near the raay or 's house, not far from Bidart, we observed the gallant Frederick Ponsonby weU in front Avith the skirmishers, and by the side of his horse the soldiers' poodle. The Colonel was encouraging our men to advance ; and the poodle. 314 EXTRAVAGANCE— LORD BLANDFORD, in great glee, was juraping and barking a,t the bul lets, as they flew round him like hail. On a sudden, Ave observed Ponsonby struggling with a French mounted offlcer, whom he had already disarmed, and was endeavouring to lead off to our Unes ; when the French skirmishers, whose numbers had in creased, fired several shots, and wounded Ponsonby, forcing him to relinquish his prisoner and to retire. At the same time, a bullet broke one of the poor dog's legs. For his gallant conduct in this affair, the poodle becarae, if possible, a still greater favour ite than he was before ; and his friends, the men of the light company, took him to England, Avhere I saw ray three-legged friend for several years afterwards, the raost prosperous of poodles, and the happiest of the canine race. Extravagance — The Duke op Marlborough, Grandfather op the present Dueie, — Lord Blandford, afterwards fifth Duke of Marlborough, with raany good and araiable qualities, was by far the raost extraA-agant raan I ever renaember to have seen. He lived in lodgings at Triphook's, the book seller, in St Jaraes's Street, whilst his father and raother resided in great state at Marlborough House. Although supporting hiraself upon money borrowed at an exorbitant interest. Lord Blandford would give Lee & Kennedy £500 for a curious plant or shrub ; and I Avell remeraber his paying £1800 for a fine edition of Boccaccio ; whilst his country-seat, Whiteknights, near Reading, was kept up with a splendour worthy of a royal residence. His raother, the Duchess of Marlborough, (of whora Queen Charlotte used to say, that she and EXTRAVAGANCE— LORD BLANDFORD. 316 Lady Carlisle, grandmother of Lord Carlisle, were the tAVO haughtiest and proudest Avomen in Eng land,) had quarrelled with Lord Blandford for seve ral years past. She persuaded the Duke to settle a large portion of the Blenheim estates, which were unentailed, upon his brother. Lord Francis Spencer, who Avas created Lord Churchill, Lord Blandford's alloAvance durins; his father's lifetime was insuffi- cient for a person in his position. He was, there fore, obliged to have recourse to the Jews, who eventually ruined him. He was always very kind to rae, and I lived a good deal with hira and his sons when I was a young man. I remeraber, in 1816, going down with him to Whiteknights ; which was afterwards sold, and has since been pulled down. During our journey. Lord Blandford opened a sort of cupboard, which was fixed on one side of the coach in which we travel led, and which contained a capital luncheon, with different kinds of wine and liqueurs. Another part of this roomy vehicle, on a spring being touched, dis played a sort of secretaire, Avith writing materials, and a large pocket-book ; the latter he opened, and shewed rae fifty Bank of England notes for £1000 each, which he told rae he had borrowed the day before from a weU-known raoney-lender in the city, named Levy. He stated that he had given in re turn a post-obit on his father's death for £150,000; and added, "You see, Gronow, how the iraraense fortune of ray family will be frittered away : but I can't help it ; I must Ua'c, My father inherited £500,000 in ready money, and .£70,000 a-year in land ; and, in aU probability, when it comes to my turn to live at Blenheira, I shall have nothing left 316 MALIBRAN AND GRISL but the annuity of £5000 a-year on the Post- Office." Lord Blandford's prediction was verified ; for when I went to see him at Blenheim some years later, and when he had become Duke of Marlborough, he told me that I should find a great difference between his magnificent way of living at White knights, and his very reduced establishment at Blenheim, He said that he had from the estate, fish, game, venison, mutton, and poultry in abun dance, and a good cellar of wine ; but that he was so involved that he could obtain credit neither in Oxford nor in London, and that his sole revenue (and rauch of that forestaUed) was the annuity on the Post-Office, which was inalienably secured to the great Duke, Fortunately for his successors, the vast estates of the Marlborough family were strictly entailed, and the present possessor has ample revenues, and is a most worthy representative of one of the greatest names in English history, Malibran and Grisi. — Maria Malibran was still in the zenith of her fame, when Giulia Grisi made her appearance on the stage in Paris, She was not at that period of her life the consummate actress she afterwards became, but trusted a good deal to the power of her personal attractions, as weU as to the singularly fine compass and sweet tones of her beautiful voice, to insure the applause of the public, Malibran was, on the contrary, the soul of music. She was a grand being ; that small, slight woman, Avtth flushed cheeks and ardent expressive eyes, con sumed by the love of her art, and that one passion- MALIBRAN AND GRISL 317 ate attachraent which seeraed avoa'bu into her soul, a part of her very being. I really believe that this blind idolatry for the raan Avho afterwards becarae her husband, was the cause of the kind of frenzy Avith which she clung to her farae as an artist. She felt instinctively that she had been sought because she was celebrated, and that the applause which she elicited was the fuel which fed the flickering flarae in De Beriot's heart. There can be no doubt that the dread that in losing the one, she raight fail to keep the other, fastened on her heart and killed her. Poor Malibran! Grisi's new-born fame was a cankerworm, eating into her very soul ; and I truly believe not from a mean feeling of envy, but for the reason that I have assigned. I remember hearing, some seven-and-twenty years ago, of a rather ludicrous scene which took place at L House, At one of the celebrated concerts at that noble raansion, Malibran and Grisi were to sing a duet. MaUbran did not raake her appearance, and, after waiting a considerable tirae, the noble and courteous host supplied her place by an inferior artist, and Grisi had aU the honours of the evening. In the midst of her triumph who should raarch in but the " Diva" herself, flushed with anger, her fine brow lowering, and her full lips corapressed with anger. Lord L , Avith that scrupulous urbanity which always distinguished him, advanced tow0.rds MaUbran and made her a thousand apologies for haAdng begun the concert Avithout her, on account of the lateness of the hour. Poor Maria, by no means softened, and having caught sight of the beautiful face of her rival Avreathed in triumphant smUes, saluted the astonished Marquis Avith a voUey 318 MALIBRAN AND GRISL of abuse ; to which he kept bowing politely till she had exhausted her vocabulary, (a pretty large one,) and had darted frantically out of the room, MaUbran was not regularly handsome, but I al- Avays thought her in her young days reraarkably attractive. As she grew older, her features becarae coarser, and a certain bold, hard look settled on her face. Her head was weU forraed; her raouth, though Avide,was prettily shaped, and adorned Avithvery good teeth, and her sraall figure was graceful. Her voice was splendid, fuU of passion and pathos. Who that ever heard her in Desderaona, could forget that cry of struggling agony, " Se il padre ra'abbandona," or the sorrowful w-aU of the blighted heart in the ro- raance " Assisa al pie d'un salice 1 " She identified herself so thoroughly with the part she acted that it required sorae courage to face her in the last scene. She died hard, and fought to the last ; and OtheUo had to raake a kind of steeplechase after her, and suffer raany kicks and cuffs before he could as an Irish friend of raine reraarked, " bring her to rason by taking her life," I was lucky enough to see the first representation of the " Puritani," with that grand galaxy of singers, Lablache, Rubini, Taraburini, and Grisi ; the like of whora, as a whole, will perhaps never be heard again. The bridal song, " Son vergine vezzoza," was one of Grisi's triuraphs, and it raust be allowed that it was irapossible to look on a fairer sight than Giulia, with her long white veU flowing to her feet, caroUing that sweet happy lay, Grisi's head and face, bust, arras, and hands, were alraost faultless ; her mouth and teeth were lovely beyond descrip tion ; her hair Avas black as jet, and luxuriant LORD ALVANLEY, 319 though not long, for which reason probably she never let it fall corapletely down. But owing to her rather thick waist, her large feet, and short legs, the spell Avas broken when she attempted to run across the stage in pursuit of Edgardo or Arturo, As Grisi's beauty waned, or her voice lost some of its rich, melloAv notes, her good sense taught her that she raust study more, and act better. She set herself conscientiously to work, and in the latter years of her stage career gained the reputation of being an admirable actress. She had not the pathos of Pasta, nor the genius of Malibran, but she had love for her art, and a desire to do the very best she possibly could. She was neither huffy, capricious, nor tricky ; she neither feigned Ulness when she was well, nor aUowed a passing whim or fancy to inter fere with her duty to the director or the public. A good warm heart beat in that ample bosom, and no one, I believe, ever heard of Giulia Grisi doing a mean or unkind action. Lord Alvanley, — From the time of good Queen Bess, when the English language first began to assume somewhat of its present form, idiom, and mode of expression, to the days of our most gracious sovereign Queen Victoria, every age has had its punsters, humorists, and eloquent conversationists ; but I much doubt whether the year 1789 did not produce the greatest wit of modern times, in the person of WUliam Lord Alvanley, After receiving a very excellent and careful edu cation, Alvanley entered the Coldstream Guards at an early age, and served Avith distinction at Copen hagen and in the Peninsula ; but being in posses- 320 LORD ALVANLEY. sion of a large fortune, he left the army, gave himself up entirely to the pursuit of pleasure, and becarae one of the principal dandies of the day. With the brUliant talents which he possessed, he raight haA'e attained to the highest eminence in any line of life he had embraced. Not only was Alvanley considered the wittiest raan of his day in England, but, during his residence in France, and tours through Russia and other coun tries, he was universaUy admitted to possess, not only great wit and humour, but I'esprit franpais in its highest perfection ; and no greater compliraent could be paid him by foreigners than this. He was one of the rare examples (particularly rare in the days of the dandies, who were generaUy sour and spiteful) of a raan corabining brilliant wit and re partee with the raost perfect good nature. His manner, above all, was irresistible ; and the slight lisp, which raight have been considered as a blemish, only added piquancy and zest to his sayings. In appearance, he was about the raiddle height, and well and strongly built, though he latterly became somewhat corpulent. He exceUed in all manly exercises, was a hard rider to hounds, and was what those who do not belong to the upper ten thousand call " a good plucked one." His face had somewhat of the rotund form and smUing expres sion which characterise the jolly friars one raeets Avith in Italy, His hair and eyes were dark, and he had a very sraaU nose, to which, after deep potations, his copious pinches of snuff had sorae difficulty in finding their way, and were in con sequence rather lavishly bestowed upon his florid cheek. He resided in Park Street, St James's, and LORD ALVANLEY. 321 his dinners there and at Melton were considered to be the best in England. He never invited more than eight people, and insisted upon having the soracAvhat expensive luxury of an apricot tarfc on the sideboard the Avhole year round. Ah-anley AA'as a good speaker; and having made sorae allusion to O'Connell in rather strong terras in the House of Lords, the latter very coarsely and unjustly denounced him, in a speech he made in the House of Commons, as a bloated buffoon. Alvanley thereupon called out the Liberator, who would not raeet hira, but excused hiraself by saying, '¦ There is blood already on this hand," — alluding to his fatal duel with D'Esterre, Alvanley then threatened O'Connell Avith personal chastiseraent. Upon this, Morgan O'Connell, a very agreeable, gentleraanlike raan, who had been in the Austrian service, and whom I knew well, said he would take his father's place, A raeeting was accordingly agreed upon at Wirabledon Coramon, Alvanley's second was Colonel George Dawson Damer, and our late consul at Haraburgh, Colonel Hodges, acted for Morgan O'ConneU, Several shots were fired Avithout effect, and the seconds then in terfered, and put a stop to any further hostilities. On their way home in a hackney-coach, Alvanley said — "What a clumsy fellow O'Connell must be, to miss such a fat fellow as I am ! He ought to practise at a haystack to get his hand in," When the carriage drove up to Alvanley's door, he gave the coachman a sovereign, Jarvey was profuse in his thanks, and said, "It's a great deal for only haAdng taken your lordship to Wimbledon," 322 LORD ALVANLEY, "No, my good raan," said Alvanley; I give it you, not for taking me, but for bringing me back." Everybody knows the story of Gunter the pastry cook. He was mounted on a runaway horse with the King's hounds, and excused himself for riding against Alvanley, by saying, " 0 ray lord, I can't hold hira, he 's so hot ! " " Ice hira, Gunter — ice hira ! " was the consoling rejoinder. In the hunting-field in a northern county. Sir Charles S , whose raarried life was not a very happy one, wore one raorning at the raeet a wonder ful greatcoat, with enorraous horn buttons. Alvanley, riding up to him, and apparently looking at the buttons with great adrairation, said, " A little atten tion of Lady S 's, I presurae. Sir Charles 1 " Alvanley had a delightful recklessness and laisser aller in everything. His raanner of putting out his light at night was not a very pleasant one for his host for the time being. He always read in bed, and when he wanted to go to sleep, he either ¦extinguished his candle by throwing it on the floor in the middle of the roora, and taking a shot at it with the pUlow, or else quietly placed it, when stiU lighted, under the bolster. At Badrainton, and other country houses, his habits in this respect were so well known, that a servant was ordered to sit up in the passage to keep watch over hira, Alvanley's recklessness in money matters was almost incredible. His creditors having become at last very claraorous, that able and astute raan of the Avorld, Mr Charles Greville, with the energetic and busthng kindness in mixing himself up in aU his friends' affairs which still distinguishes hira, had undertaken to settle those of Alvanley, After going SALLY LUNN CAKES. 323 through every item of the debts, matters looked more proraising than Mr Greville expected, and he took his leave. In the raorning he received a note frora Alvanley, to say that he had quite forgotten to take into account a debt of fifty-five thousand pounds. In his latter years Lord Alvanley was a raartyr to the gout, but preserved his wit and good huraour to the last. He died in 1849, Sally Lunn Cakes — The Etymology op the Word "Bun," — Sorae fifty years back or there abouts, Albinia, Countess of Buckingharashire, lived in her charraing viUa in Piralico, surrounded by a large and beautiful garden. It was here she used to entertain the ilite of London society with raagni ficent fites, bal champetres, and public breakfasts. After one of those fetes, I called one raorning to pay my respects ; and, on ringing the bell, the servant ushered rae into the conservatory, where I found Lady Harrington, the celebrated cantatrice Mrs BUlington, and the Duke of Sussex; who was said to be very rauch epris with the English " Catalani," as she was called, Mrs BilUngton was extreraely beautiful, though it was absurd to corapare her to Catalani as a singer ; but she was the favourite of the Duke of Sussex, which raade her raany friends. During ray Adsit, chocolate and tea-cakes were served to our party, when Lady Harrington related a curious anecdote about those cakes. She said her friend Madarae de Narbonne, during the eraigration, deterrained not to live upon the bounty of foreigners, found means to amass raoney enough to enable her to open a 324 PICTON'S OPINION OF OUR OFFICERS. shop in Chelsea, not far frora the then fashionable balls of Ranelagh. It had been the custom in France, before the Revolution, for young ladies in some noble famUies to learn the art of raaking preserves and pastry ; accordingly, Madarae de Narbonne coraraenced her operations under the auspices of sorae of her ac quaintances; and all those who went to Ranelagh made a point of stopping and buying some of her cakes. Their fame spread Uke lightning through out the West End, and orders were given to have thera sent for breakfast and tea in raany great houses in the neighbourhood of St James's, Madame de Narbonne eraployed a Scotch raaid-servant to execute her orders. The narae of this woraan was " Sally Lunn," and ever since a particular kind of tea-cake has gone by that narae, Madarae de Narbonne, not speaking English, re plied to her custoraers, (when they inquired the narae of her brioches,) "bon;" hence the etyraology of " bun," according to Lady Harrington : but I confess that I do not feel quite satisfied with her derivation, Picton's Opinion op our Officers, — During ray passage frora Rarasgate to Ostend, with Sir Thoraas Picton, en route to Waterloo, to which I alluded in my former volume, the general, whose deraeanour was stern and rather forbidding, and of whora we all stood very rauch in awe, was on this occasion in great good huraour and high spirits. He talked, with his usual oaths, (which the reader will pardon me if I transcribe,) a good deal about the Peninsular war, and the relative merits of the PICTON'S OPINION OF OUR OFFICEKS. 325 English and French armies. He greatly praised the soldier-like qualities and military talents of the French officers, and said — "If I had fifty thousand such men as I com manded in Spain, with French officers at their head, I'm d d if I wouldn't raarch frora one end of Europe to the other." We were aU astounded at this praise of the French ; and Charabers, very much piqued, ob served — " This is the first tirae we have heard. Sir Thoraas, that French officers Avere superior to ours," " What ! " said Picton, " never heard they were superior to ours 1 why, d n it, Avhere is our military education 1 where our railitary schools and colleges 1 We have none : absolutely none. Our greatest generals, Marlborough and Wellington, learnt the art of war in France. Nine French officers out of ten can coraraand an array, whilst our fellows, though as brave as lions, are totally and utterly ignorant of their profession. D^ n it, sir, they know nothing. We are saved by our non-commissioned officers, who are the best in the world," We aU felt very rauch disgusted and hurailiated at these reraarks, and considered them at the time very unjust ; but I ara now certain that the general was right, and that our officers at that tirae, beyond extraordinary dash and pluck, had none of the qualities required in those who were destined to comraand the finest troops in the world. That true soldier. General Foy, in his history of the Peninsular War, is of the sarae opinion as the gallant Picton respecting our coraraissioned and 326 ADMIRAL NAGLE. non-coraraissioned officers ; and he had raany good opportunities of judging, for he was opposed to us on raany a hard-fought field : but now, thank Heaven, our systera is much improved. Patronage can no longer do everything, and a strict exaraina- tion is necessary for all candidates for commissions in the army. Admiral Nagle, — ^Admiral Nagle was a great favourite of George the Fourth, and passed much of his time with his Majesty, He was a bold, weather- beaten tar, but nevertheless a perfect gentleman, with exceedingly pleasing raanners, and possessed of rauch good nature and agreeability. The late Duke of Cambridge on one occasion sent his brother a cream-coloured horse, frora the royal stud at Han over, and the king gave the aniraal to Colonel Peters, the riding-master. Admiral Nagle ventured to ex press a hope, that if his Majesty received a similar present from Hanover, he would graciously make him a present of it, upon which the king replied, " Certainly, Nagle, you shall have one," The admiral was shortly afterwards sent to Portsmouth, to superintend the buUding of the royal yacht, during which tirae Strohling, the fashionable painter of the day, was suraraoned, and ordered to paint over the adrairal's favourite hack, to raake it appear like one of the Hanoverian breed. The horse was accordingly placed in the riding-school, and, in an incredibly short period, the metaraorphosis was successfully corapleted. In due time the adrairal returned frora Portsmouth, and, as usual, went to the royal stables, and was charmed to see that his Majesty had fulfilled his POTAGE 1 LA POMPADOUR, 327 promise. He lost no time in going to Carlton House to return thanks, when the king said, "Well, Nagle, how do you like the horse I sent you 1 " " Very much," was the reply ; " but I should Uke to try his paces before I can give your Majesty a decided opinion about him," " Well, then, let him be saddled, though it does rain, and gallop him round the park and return here, and let me know what you think of him," It rained cats and dogs ; the paint was graduaUy washed off the horse, to the admiral's great astonishment, and he returned to Carlton House, where the king and his friends had watched his 'departure and arrival with the greatest dehght. The adrairal was welcoraed with roars of laughter, which he took with great good humour ; and, about a month afterwards, the king presented biTTi with a real Hanoverian horse of great value. The late Lord Scarborough, — Lord Luraley, the late Lord Scarborough, was Uving in Paris in the winter of 1816 ; and, notwithstanding his larae- ness, was one of the gayest of the gay, ever attend ing dinners, balls, and fetes. At a fete given by Lady Elizabeth Stuart, Luraley was flirting with one of the beautiful Lady Harleys, when Madarae de Stael inquired of Lady Oxford the narae of the person who was in conversation with her daughter. Her ladyship replied. Monsieur Lumley, " L'homrae laid ! queUe drole de nora ! raais c'est vrai, II n'est pas joli gar9on ! " Ever after, he was known in Paris by the appellation of " L'horarae Laid," Potage A la Pompadour, — We are apt to talk a good deal of the wisdom of our ancestors ; but in 328 POTAGE A LA POMPADOUR. the midst of a certain araount of civilisation, much rude raagnificence, and great display, those good people were corapletely ignorant of, and unac quainted with raany of the refineraents and even necessaries of life, as the foUoAving anecdote wUl prove. About a hundred years ago, in the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, when his raistress, the Marquise de Porapadour, governed France with absolute power, the Duke of Norfolk was rauch in favour with that lady. One morning, at her toilette, — to the close of which, consisting of powdering and hair-dressing, her friends were admitted, according to the custom of that tirae — when the usual corapliments had passed, his Grace's attention was riveted to a certain article of furniture in a distant part of the room, of a somewhat octagonal shape, which was entirely new to him. As a considerable crowd of courtiers sur rounded the royal favourite, he Avas able to approach something closer, and to discover that the object of his curiosity was of solid gold, Avith the Marquise's arms richly engraved, and that it was placed upon a wooden stand. The Duke of Norfolk took an opportunity of in quiring from one of the femmes de chambre for Avhat purpose this magnificent piece of plate was used ; and the reply, given Avithout any signs of bashfulness, struck him with utter araazeraent and sorae confusion. In the course of the day, the sou- brette coraraunicated this incident to her raistress, as rather a good joke ; and Madarae de Porapadour, who was anxious that the Duke should have sorae souvenir of his stay in France, and of her friendship for him, gave instructions to her silversmith to BEARDING THE LION IN HIS DEN. 329 raake another piece of plate exactly similar to that which had so much attracted his Grace's attention. It was very richly ornamented, and had the Duke's arms engraved on one side, and those of Madarae de Porapadour on the other. It Avas carefully packed up, and forwarded to the Duchess of Norfolk, by a messenger belonging to the French court. Upon receiving the present from the Marquise de Pompadour, the Duchess was delighted, and said — " HoAv A'ery kind of the Marquise ! I never saw so beautiful a soup tureen ; I suppose its shape is la grande mode of the day I " A few days after the present had been received, the Duke of Norfolk arrived frora Paris, and a great dinner was given at Norfolk House to celebrate his safe return. In those days les diners d la Russe were not invented, and the dishes, of raagnificent silver gilt, were placed upon the table, and served by those who sat opposite to thera. When dinner was announced, and the guests had sat down, the Duke w-as perfectly aghast with horror and amazement ; for there in front of him he beheld the mysterious piece of plate filled with excellent mutton broth. The present of the fair Marquise is said to be still in existence in one of the country residences of the chief of the noble family of Howard, but restored from its culinary duties to the original legitimate purpose for which it was intended. But it is only on rare occasions, such as the visits of royalty, that this heirloom is displayed ; when the taste of the fair Marquise is highly admired. Bearding the Lion in his Den. — In 1820, a 330 BEARDING THE LION IN HIS DEN, friend of mine, belonging to the same battalion of the Guards as rayself, was sent frora the Tower with a detachraent to the Bank of England, On his arrival, he inforraed the porter that a lady would present herself at the door about dinner tirae, and that he was to escort her to the officers' roora. The porter meanwhile coraraunicated with the Governor, who sent strict orders that no feraale was to be ad raitted within the walls of the Bank, The lady in due tirae arrived, but was refused adraission. The officer having been inforraed by one of the Serjeants that orders had been given by the Gover nor not to allow the lady to enter, ejected the porter frora his lodge, with raany oaths and threats, and gave it in charge to the sergeant. The porter ran to the Governor, stating that the officer would place the Governor and hiraself, if he caught him, in the black-hole ; for he swore that he commanded at the Bank, and no one should interfere with him or his ¦visitors. The Governor kept out of the way, but sent a clerk to the comraanding officer of the regiraent, stating what had occurred, who in his turn sent a report to the Horse Guards of the whole affair. The Duke of York desired my friend to appear be fore hira next day, when he was asked by his Royal Highness for an explanation. The officer adraitted all that had been reported of him, but declared that, as he had been entrusted Avith the custody and safe keeping of the Bank of England, he regretted not having put the Governor into the black-hole for his interference. The Duke of York was so amused and tickled by the coolness and sang froid, and I may say impu- A MAD FRIEND. 331 dence, of ray friend, that he could not help laugh ing ; and, after a slight reprimand, asked him to dinner. The Duke used frequently to mention this anecdote to his particular friends as a very good joke ; but he was the kindest of raen, and I ara not sure whether the young officer would not have found his escapade taken up in a very different raanner by most commanding officers. A Mad Friend. — Mr Adam G , a gentleman of large fortune, living in HiU Street, Berkeley Square, raet rae one afternoon in Hyde Park, and invited me to dine with him on the same day. He inforraed rae that he had only asked two friends to dine Avith him ; one of whom, he observed, I saw before rae. A. G was accorapanied by a gentle man, who appeared to be a quiet and inoffensive person ; but he held in his right hand a sort of life- preserver, which seeraed rather strange. But as I cUd not know who the raan was, I thought no raore about it. At seven, the hour of dinner, I raade ray appear ance, and found the unknown gentleraan waiting in the drawing-roora. Dinner was shortly afterwards announced. It was excellent, and everything passed off peaceably, until my suspicions were aroused by hearing the person whom I had seen with A. G. in the park, and who was seated at our amphytrion's left, say — " You had better not drink any more wine ! " Soon afterwards we aU left for the drawing-room, where coffee was served. Politics began to be dis cussed, and Lord Grey's narae accidentally raen tioned, when A, G. evinced considerable irrita- 332 LORD ALTHORPE, tion, burst out into veheraent abuse of that noble personage, and at last shewed evident symptoms of insanity. Not wishing to witness any more proofs of this poor fellow's malady, I was preparing to leave ; when he cried out — " Don't leave rae, Gronow ; for that fellow," point ing to his friend, " is going to put the strait-waist coat on rae. He has rung the bell for his assistant." I appeared to grant his request, but was determined to raake my escape ; and, in the act of opening the door, I found myself in the clutches of A. G , who held me with a grasp of iron ; but, luckily, the keeper carae to my assistance, and, after a struggle, released rae. The foUoAving night I called to inquire after my friend, and found that he had been removed to the neighbourhood of London for change of air. At the same time I was assured, that owing to the Reform BiU, which disfranchised a borough in CornwaU, where A. G had expended a fortune in pur chasing houses and building others, to secure his seat as M.P., this circurastance had the effect of driving hira raad ; and hence his aversion to the great originator of the Reforra Bill. Lord Althorpe, — Mr Morier, forraerly our minister in Switzerland, who had been Lord Al- thorpe's fag at Westminster, and always remained on terras of great intiraacy Avith him, was calling one morning in Downing Street, at the time the noble lord was Chancellor of the Exchequer, and found him at breakfast, Mr Morier, appearing to be struck by something he saw on the table. Lord Althorpe asked him what he was thinking of, when O'CONNELL, 333 Mr ]\lorier said, "I am looking at your teapots, Althorpe, for they appear to rae to be wonderfully like those I used to clean for you when I was your fag." "They are the very sarae teapots," replied the ChanceUor of the Exchequer. " They reraind me of my happy school-days, and I like to stick to my old acquaintances." Lord Althorpe was rather singular in his dress. Even in the dog-days, he was always buttoned up to the chin ; and I once heard O'Connell say, that no one had ever been able to discover whether his lordship wore a shirt or not, for there were no visible signs of one, either on the neck or wrists ; but that it was eA'ident he had made a shift to do without one. Lord Althorpe was a bad and tedious speaker : his financial statements, given out as they were with endless huraraing and hawing, and constant hesitation, raade his hearers feel quite nervous and uncorafortable ; but he was possessed of great good sense, and was so upright and honourable a man, and such a thorough gentleman, that the Reformed House of Comraons — a difficult one to raanage — had raore confidence in hira than they would have had in any one else, however eloquent and fluent he might have been, O'Connell. — During the time I was in the House of Comraons, I saw a good deal of O'ConneU, and frequently dined at his house in Great George Street. He was nowhere seen to raore advantage than pre siding at his own table, in all the pride of hospi tality, surrounded by a nuraerous body of friends 334 SNUFF-TARING. and relations. His dinners were plain but good ; there were always large joints and plenty of wine. His conversation was raost interesting : he had a fund of anecdote, and used to relate raost curious stories about the Union and the state of society in Ireland when he was a young man. Though a good hater, he could do justice to political opponents ; and I once heard him say, in speaking of Lord Castlereagh, the minister, "Castlereagh, with all his faults, was a fine fellow, and as brave as Achilles," In the House I very often sat next to him ; he was always gay and cheerful, and soraetiraes very amusing : like most Irishmen, he was at all tiraes ready for a joke. I reraember, on a division, when the narae of Charles Tynte did not appear on the Governraent side, I expressed ray astonishraent, and said there raust be a mistake, as I always under stood he was a Liberal. " No, no, my good friend," said O'Connell ; " you must henceforth set him down amongst the neutral Tyntes," (tints.) Snuff-taking. — Snuff-taking becarae generally the fashion in France in the early part of the reign of Louis XV. In the unfortunate reign of Louis XVI., the beautiful Marie-Antoinette preferred bon bons to snuff, and prided herself on her bonbonnieres ; while the old ladies of her court carried snuff-boxes of iraraense diraensions, Avith the miniatures of their lovers and children on the lid. In England, Queen Charlotte, the grandraother of our gracious Queen, was so fond of snuff, that she was the principal cause of making it fashionable. I recoUect having seen her Majesty on the terrace SNUFF-TAKING. 335 at Windsor walking with the King, George TIL, when, to the great delight of the Eton boys, she applied her finger and thurab to her gold box, out of which her Majesty appeared to have fished a con siderable quantity, for the royal nose was covered with snuft' both within and without, AU the old ladies in London took a prodigious quantity, I once called upon the old Duchess of Manchester in Berkeley Square, Avhen she did me the honour to offer me a pinch of her best snuff, I was then young, but nevertheless accepted the Duchess's offer, and snuffied up a decent quantity ; which made rae sneeze for at least an hour after wards, creating much mirth in the draAving-room, where many persons were asserabled. The Duchess observed how happy she would be if snuff could have the same effect upon her nose as it had upon mine. George IV, always carried a snuff-box ; but it appeared to me as if his Majesty took snuff for fashion's sake. He would take the box in his left hand, and, opening it with his right thumb and fore-finger, introduce them into this costly reservoir of snuff, and with a consequential air convey the sarae to the nose ; but never suffered any to enter : indeed, those who were well acquainted Avith his Majesty frequently told rae he took snuff for efi'ect, but never liked it, and aUowed all of it to escape from his finger and thumb before it reached the nose. I should say that the raajority of men of fashion at the period I am speaking of carried snuff-boxes. If you. knew a raan intiraately, he would offer you a pinch out of his own box ; but if others, not so 336 PETITION AGAINST MY RETURN. well acquainted, Avished for a pinch, it was actuaUy refused. In those days of snuff-taking, at the tables of great people, and the messes of regiments, snuff boxes of large proportions foUowed the bottle, and everybody was at liberty to help hiraself. It was reported that Bruraraell, who was cele brated for the beauty of his snuff-boxes and the quality of his snuff, was once dining at the PavUion with the Prince, and incurred his master's heaAy displeasure in the following manner. The then Bishop of Winchester perceiving Bruraraell's snuff box within his reach, very naturaUy took it up and supplied himself with a pinch ; upon which Brum raeU told his servant, who was standing behind his chair, to throw the rest of the snuff into the fire or on the floor. The Prince aU the whUe looked daggers : he gave Master BrumraeU a good Avigging the following day, and never forgot the insult offered to the Bishop. Bruraraell was then apparently in great faA'our, but the Prince frora that period began to shew his dislike for the Beau on several occa sions ; and shortly afterwards quarrelled with hira, and kept him at arm's length for the remainder of his life. Petition against my Return for Stafford, AND Lord Campbell. — On the assembling of the first Reformed Parliament, amongst the petitions presented was a very extraordinary one against ray return for Stafford. I forget the exact wording of this precious docuraent, but the purport of it was, that I ought to be unseated because I had not bribed the electors sufficiently. When Mr Lee, the clerk read ont this hurable petition, roars of laughter THE LATE LORD DUDLEY, 337 were heard from all sides of the House, and the Speaker, very rauch scandalised, ruled that it could not be received. On leaving the House, I raet the late Lord Camp bell, then Solicitor-General, who had been M.P for Stafford in the last Parliament, He imraediately caUed out, "Here coraes the iraraaculate Gronow, who did not bribe the electors of Stafford to their hearts' content," I replied that I supposed they expected me to give aU the wives of electors piano fortes, as he was reported to have done ; but that he had been quite right to bribe, as his election had made him SoUcitor-General, Sir John Campbell laughed, and said I must not talk of bribery to one of his Majesty's principal law-officers ; but added, " There is nothing like leather" — a cant expression which was, and I believe is still, used by the worthy and independent electors of Stafford, who are mostly shoemakers, and who take care to sell their leather at election time at a highly remunerative price. The late Lord Dudley, — The English have, as we aU know, the reputation among foreigners of being des originaux ; and I am inclined to believe that we are a queer race of people, and that there are more "characters" among us than are to be found abroad. One of the most conspicuous of the eccentric oddities who flourished forty years ago was Lord Dudley and Ward. I need not speak of his powers of conversation, which were most brilliant when he chuse to exert them, of his sarcastic wit, and culti vated intellect. These great gifts were obscured by a singular absence of raind, which he carried to Y 338 THE LATE LORD DUDLEY, such a pitch, that some persons maintained that rauch of this peculiarity was assumed. Rather an amusing anecdote is related of hira, in which the "biter was bit ;" that is, supposing it to have been true that his "distractions" were not altogether genuine. It happened one day that, coming out of the House of Lords, Lord Dudley's carriage was not to be found. It was late at night, and Lord Dudley, who was extremely nervous about catching cold, was in a frantic state of excitement. Lord H kindly offered to set him down at Dudley House, which proposal was thankfuUy accepted. During the drive. Lord Dudley began, according to his nsual custom, to talk to hiraself in an audible tone, and the burden of his song was as follows : — " A deuce of a bore ! This tiresome man has taken rae home, and AviU expect me to ask him to dinner, I suppose I must do so, but it is a horrid nuisance," Lord H closed his eyes, and, assuming the sarae sleepy raonotonous voice, muttered forth, " What a dreadful bore ! This good-natured feUow Dudley avUI think himself obliged to invite me to dinner, and I shaU be forced to go. I hope he won't ask me, for he gives d d bad dinners," Lord Dudley started, looked very rauch confused, but said nothing. He, however, never forgave his friend ; for he prided himself upon being a good hater. Another tirae, when dining with Lord W , who particularly piqued himself upon his dinners, he began apologising to the company for the bad ness of the entrees, and excused himself for their THE LATE LORD DUDLEY, 339 execrable quality on account of the illness of his cook. He was once paying a morning visit to the beautiful Lady M , He sat an unconscionably long time, and the lady, after giving him sorae friendly hints, took up her work and tried to raake conversation. Lord Dudley broke a long fit of sUence by rauttering, " A A'ery pretty woraan this Lady M ! She stays a devilish long tirae — I wish she'd go," He thought Lady M was paying hira a visit in his own house. At a dinner some thirty years ago at Sir George Warrender's, Lord Dudley took out a beautiful young married lady, who was extremely shy. Sir George was a singular raixture of extravagance and economy, and though (for he was a renowned epi cure, and comraonly knoAvn by the narae of Sir Gorge Provender) he fed his guests plentifully, the warraing departraent was neglected, and the atrao sphere of the dining-room reserabled that of Nova Zerabla, Lord Dudley asked the young lady where she would Uke to sit, and, out of pure shyness, she pointed to the nearest chair, which happened to be in the corner furthest from the fire. After they had sat down, she could hear Lord Dudley rautter ing angry sentences, in which she could alraost fancy she heard herself consigned to the depths of an unraentionable place. But what was her horror, when, after shivering and shaking for sorae tirae without speaking a word except to himself. Lord Dudley turned round, and in an angry voice asked for his cloak. It was one of that large sort of cloaks such as coachmen soraetiraes wore in Eng- 340 THE LATE LORD DUDLEY. land, with a gradation of capes ; and in this he wrapped himself, and remained during the whole of dinner Avithout speaking a word to his fair neigh bour. Lord Dudley was for a short time Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, but became more and more eccentric, and, not very long after his resignation, was obliged to be placed under restraint. He eventually, I beUeve, entirely lost his reason, and died in 1833, INDEX Abebdeen, the Earl of, 147, Aboyne, Earl ot (afterwards Mar quis of Huntly), 42, Adair, Captaiu Robert, killed at Waterloo, 191-19;. Adam's Brigade at Waterloo, 189. Adelaide, Madame (sister of Louis Pliilippe), 245, 246. Adour, Passage of the, 1813, 21-23. After Quabre Bras, 185, Alava, Spanish general, 3, 186. Albinia, Countess of Buckingham shire, 323. Aldborough, the Countess of, 305- 30S, Aldegonde, Count St., 33, Alleti, Lord ("King Allen"), 55, 161, 162. Alliance, La Belle, 199-201. Allied Armies, 7 ; in Paris, 1815, 80, 86, 97, 98, 104, 128-131 ; Allied Sovereigns in Paris, 1815, 97- Almack's, 31-34, Althorpe, Lord, 332, 333. Alvanley, Lord, 18, 33, 45, 136-138, 227, 240, 319-323 ; and Prince Louis Napoleon, 283, 284. Angelet, the three heroic brothers, 178-180, Anglaises, les, pour Rire ! 92-94. Anglesea, Marquis of, 53, 77. Angouleme, Due d', 24, 95, 1 12. Anson, George (afterwards General), 186. Antrim, Marchioness of, 162. Arago, Emmanuel, 251, 252. Arden, Sir Pepper, 240, 241. Argyle, tho Duke of, 33, 45; Dnchess of, 36, 53. Armstrong, Colonel, 61. Arnold, of the loth Hussars, 94. Arthur's Club, 55-57. Aston, Hervey, 33, 91, 108, 267. Austria, Emperor of, in Paris, 1815, 97, 129, 130. Austrian Army, Occupation of Paris, 207. "Aux Armes,'' 250. Av.aray, Duke d', 302. Baohelu, General, at Waterloo, 188. Bjicon, Captain, of the IOth Hussars, 94- Bagration, Princess, 300. Balzac, H. de, 257, 258. Bank of England, Of&oer of the Guards in charge of, 329-331. Baring, Henry, 91, 120, I2i ; Lady, 60. Barras, 235. Bathurst, Seymour, 108. Battle of the Nivelle, 1813,4, 18-21 ; of Waterloo, 67, 68-80, 178-206. Bayonne invested, 23. Bearding the lion in his den, 329- 331. Beau Brummel, 33, 43-46, 52, 56, 134, 136, 137, 145, 153, 161, 227, 336- Beau D'Orsay, le, 277. Beauvilliers, Restaurateur, Paris. 96. Bedford, Duchess of, 35, 53 ; the Duke of, 167. Belzoni, 138. 342 Index. Bentinck, Lord Frederick, 268 ; Lord AVilliam, 127, Beriot, De, husband of Marie Mali bran, 317, Berri, la Duchess de, 123, 124, Betrand, General, 297, Betty, Master, the " young Roscius," 138. •Bias, Fanny, MdUe,, danseuse, 126, 303. Bigottini, Mdlle., danseuse, 126, 303- Billiagton, Mrs,, the vocalist, 291, 323- Blackburn, Mr., M,P., of Hale, 159, 160. Blacking, Colonel Kelly's, 160-61. Blandford, the Marquis of (after wards Duke cf Marlborough), 314-316. Blayney, Lord, 34. Blessington, the Earl of, 242. Bloomfleld, Sir Benjamin (after wards Lord Bloomfleld), 40, 42, S3, 141, 162, 163. Blucher, Field-Marshal, in Paris, 1815, 85, 122, 129, 130, 199, 200, 206, 207 ; at the Paris Gambling Saloons, 129, 130. Boehm, Mrs., of St. James's Square, 164. Bonaparte family, the, 294-299 ; Jerome, at Waterloo, 188, 294, 295; Joseph (Ex- King of -Spain), 296 ; Louis (Ex-King of Holland, 296 ; Napoleon, Emperor of the French, 7, 67-69, 83, 85, 97, 114, 159. 174, 176. 179. 180, 183-191, 203, 204, 210, 215, 235, 236, 276, 294, 296. Boodle's Club, 55, Bordeaux, arrival of the Guards at, 23-25, Borel, Napoleon's cook, Keeper of the Rocher de Cancalle, 96, 123. Borgo, Count Pozzo di, 186, Bouverie, Jack, 58, Bowes, his brave defence of Hugue mont, 76, Bradshaw, Mrs. (Maria Tree), 167- 170 ; Mr., his eccentric courtship, 167-170. Bribery at Parliamentary elections in 1832, 308-311,336, 337. British Embassy iu Paris, 1815, 99, 100, 268-271. Brocard, Mdlle., opera dancer, 303. Brooke, Sir Richard, 1 59 ; Colonel, 159- Brookes's Club, 55-57, 144. Brougham, Lord, 264. Brummel, Beau, 33, 43-46, 52, 56, 134. 136, 137, 145. 153. 161, 227, 336. Brunswick, Duke, killed by the French, 71. Brunswickers, the, charged by the French cavalry at Waterloo, 70, 71. Buckingham, Marquis of, and Madame Catalini, 35. Buckley, his bravery at Waterloo, 76. Burges, Sir James Bland, 149-151 ; Captain of the Guards, 109, 149 ; Ensign Somerville, of the 7th Foot Guards, at Waterloo, 187 ; wounded, 193. Buried alive, 275, 276. Burke, Sir John, "The Dandy Delegate," 304, 305. Busby, Dr., headmaster of West minster (under Charles II.), 208. Butler, Dick (afterwards Lord Glengal), 164 ; Lady Harriet, 33- Byng, General Sir John, 68, 76, 77 ; with his brigade at Water loo, 76, 77. Byron, Lord, 62, 63, 149-154, 156, 237i 311 ; and Count Montrond, 237- Caf4 Anglais, Paris, in 1815, 83. Caf^ Foy, rendezvous for Prussian officers, 106. Caf^ Ture, Boulevard du Temple, 97- Caf&, Parisian, in 1815, 95-97. Cambridge, Duke of, 41, 273. Cambronne, General, taken pri soner, 74. Campbell, Sir John (afterward* Lord Campbell), 336, 337. Index. 343 Canning, Colonel, 66 ; Right Hon. George, 55, 91, 143, 163, 164. Capel, Lady Caroline, 241. Carbonell, wine merchant, 141. Cardigan, Countess of, 60 ; Earl of, and the Balaklava charge, 79. Carlisle, Countess of, 35 ; Earl of, 56, 57- Carlton House, 40-43, 141 ; Prin cess of Wales at a fSte at, 18 1 3, 40-43- Caroline, Princess of Brunswick, wife of the Prince Regent, 30, 39, 40, 158. Cartwright, Major, 281. Castlereagh, the Earl of, 84, 220, 221, 299, 300, 334 ; at the Tuileries, 1815, 84 ; and the Corn Law Riots, 220, 221 ; the Countess of, 31, 32, 299, 300. Catalini, Madame, 34, 35, 323. Cavalry, English, the unfortunate charge at Waterloo, 77, 78. Chambers, Colonel, aide-de-camp to Sir Thomas Picton, 64, 65, 67, 185, 192, 325 ; killed at Water loo, 192. Champagne, Monsieur de, and Count Montrond, 234, 235. Chapelle Royale, 123, 124. Charge, the unfortunate, of the Household Brigade at 'Waterloo, 77, 78- Charles X., 127, 163, 252, 289 ; and Louis Philippe, 127. Oharlotte, Princess of Wales, 30, 40-43, 158; Queen, 30, 41, 288, 334, 335 ; and her passion for taking snuflF, 334, 335. Charras, Colonel, writing on the battle of Waterloo, 183. Chateaubriand, 96. "Chevalier Poivre Ardent," 240, 241. Cholmondeley, Lady, 42, 268. Churchill, Lord Charles,2i; Horace, 272. Cicala, Prince Castel, 186. Civility rewarded, 264-267. Clarence, Duke of (afterwards Williara IV.), 41, 287, 288. Clarendon Hotel, 54. Clarke, Mrs. Mary Anne, 25-31. Clements, Captain R., and his prisoners, 185, 186. Clubs of London in 1814, 55-58. Coaching in 1815, 94-95' Coates, llomeo, 47-52. CoUingwood, Lord, 53- Colquitt, Colonel, his gallantry at Waterloo, 191, 192. Conduct of the Russian and Prus sian soldiers during the occupa tion of Paris by the Allies, 98, 99, 206, 207 ; of the English and Prussian ai mies during the occu pation of Paris, 206, 207. Constant, Benjamin, 128. Conway, the actor, 242. Conyngham, Lady Elizabeth, 300- 302 ; Marchioness of, mistress of George IV., 40, 163, 300-302 ; Marquis of, 40. Cooke, Geueral Sir George, 60 ; at Waterloo, 187 ; Colonel (" Kan garoo Cooke "), 60, 91. Cork, Countess of, "The Lady of Lyons," 138, 166. Cornish boroughs disenfranchised. 332- Corn Law Riots, and Lord Castle reagh, 220, 221. Cornwallis, the Marquis of, 167. Cossacks in Paris, 1 81 5, 99. Costume, French, \inder the first empire, 82; in 1815, 90, 91. Cotton,- Sir Stapylton, 24 ; Sir Willoughby, 12. Coutts, the banker, 170, 171. Cowper, Lady (afterwards Vis countess Palmerston), 31, 53. , Cox and Greenwood, army agents. 65, 219, 220. Cream-coloured horse, 326, 327. Creevey, Mr., M.P., and the Duke of Wellington, 212, 213. Cr^mieux and the Revolution of 1848, 252. Croker, John Wilson, secretary to the Admiralty, 150, 151. Culottes courtes, 124. Cumberland, Duke of, 41. Curzon, Capt. (son of Lord Scars- dale), killed at Waterloo, 194, 195. 344 Index, Damee, Colonel Hon. George Daw son, 33, 197, 198, 283, 321 ; at Waterloo, 197. Dances in fashion at Almack's in 1814, 32, 33. Dandies, characteristics of the, 225-228. Darling, Colonel, 64. Darnley, Lord, 54. Dawson, Hon. W., 9, 10. Davies, Scrope, 151-154. Delaney at AVaterloo, 186. Delmar, the banker, 301. DemidoflF, Prince, 94. Devonshire, Duchess of, 35 ; the Duke of, 42, 301, 302. Dining and cookery in England fifty years ago, 36-38. Dining with a madman, 331, 332. Discipline, St. Jean de Luz, 1813, 12-14. Disraeli, Benjamin, 147. Dodwell, Madame, 311-313. D'Orsay, Count, 161, 162, 277- 281. Dorset, Duke of, 45, 53. Downes, Lord, 10. Drummond, George Harley, banker, gambling at 'White's Club, 46, 56. Drury, a master at Eton, 209, 233. Dudley and.'Ward, the Earl of, 176, 177, 254, 337-340. Duels. — M. de Valabreque, 35 ; in France, in 1815, 104-113 ; R. B. Sheridan's duel with Captain Matthews, 115; Captain Hesse of the Guards and Count Leon (natural son of Napileon), 159 ; Count Montrond and M.de Cham pagne, 234, 235 ; Count D'Orsay's duel, 280 ; Lord Alvanley chal lenges O'Connell, 321 ; the Liber ator's fatal duel with D'Esterre, 321. Dufferin, Lord, 34. Dumas, Alexandre, pere, 261-264 > Alexandre, ^fe, 261, 262. Dunan, Madame, Hdtel d'Angle- terre, Paris, 96. Duth^, Mdlle., and her admirers, 289, 290 EOOENTBIOITIES of Lord Dudley, 337-340- Egremont, Earl of, 289, 290. Eldon, Lord Chancellor, 34, 234. Electioneering in 1832, Grimsby, 308, 309 ; Stafford, 309, 311,336, 337- EUey, Sir John, Colonel of the Blues, heroic valour at Waterloo, 197. Elliot, Sir William, and the reputed pig -faced lady of Grosvenor Square, 256, 257. Ellis, Charles, of the Guards, liis bravery at Waterloo, 75, 76 ; at Huguemont, 198, 199. EUiston, Colonel R., 210-212. Ellsler, Fanny, danseuse, 126, 127. Enghien, the Guards marching from, 15th June 1815, 64-66. England fifty years ago, dining and cookery in, 36-38. English army, conduct of, during the occupation of Paris, 206, 207 ; English cavalry, the Duke of Well ington's opinion of, 78 ; Marshal Excelmann's opinion of, 79, 80, English in Paris, after the restora tion of the Bourbons, 90-131, Errara, Marquis d', 303. Erskine, his bravery at Waterloo, 76. Escape of Lavalette from prison, 100-104. Espinasse, la Comptesse d', 124. Esterhazy, Princess, 31-33. Eton Masters. — Goodall, Dr., 146, 154, 164, 165, 210; Keate, Dr., 207-210; Sumner, Dr., 232-234 ; Drury, 209, 233, 234; Knapp, 209, 233, 234. Etymology of the word "Bunn," 323> 324- Excelmaun, Marshal, 79, 80. Excesses of the Prussian army in France, 98, 129-131, 206, 207. Extravagance of the Marquis of Blandford, 314-316. Faro, 56. Fashionable beauties, 36, 52, 53, 300-303. Index. 345 Fashion in Hyde Park, 1814, 52, 53. Faubourg St. Germain, the, 115-119. "Femme attachante," une, 238, 239. Ferrete, the Bailli de, 164, 240. Ferrier, Colonel, of the 1st Life Guards, killed at Waterloo, 196. Field of Waterloo, general appear ance of the, 68, 69. Fiennes, Twisleton (Lord Saye and Sele), 275. Fife, the Earl of, 40, I20, 121, 304. Fitzgerald, Lieutenant-Colonel, of the 2nd Life Guards, killed at Waterloo, 196 ; Mike (son of Lord Edward Fitzgerald), 109. Fitzherbert, Mrs., her marriage with George IV., 39. Fitzjames, Dukede, 96, 118, 304. Fitzpatrick, General, gambling at Brookes's Club, 56. Fladong's hotel, 54. Foley, Lady, 53 ; Lord, 33, 238. Foolhardiness, St. Jean de Luz', 1813, 10-12. Forbes, Mr., army surgeon, at AVaterloo, 194. Fouchd after the Restoration, 85, 236. Fox, Charles James, gambling at Brookes's Club, 56, 57, 164. Fox, secretary to the English Em bassy in Paris, 91, 92. Foy, General, at AVaterloo, 188, 203, 204 ; his history of the Peninsular War, 325, 326. Fracas at the Bank of England, 329-331- France and the French, 174—178. Franconi of the Circus, 172. Freemantle, Colonel, 3. French artillery at AVaterloo, 69-72, 188. French cavalry charging at Water loo, 69-73, French historians of Waterloo, 180-182. French Society at the Restoration of the Bourbons, 1 15-123. French soldiers, uniform and bear ing of, 5. Fuller, Colonel, of the 1st Dragoon Guards, killed at Waterloo, 196. Gallant admiral, a, 291-293. Gambling houses in Paris, 87-90, 120-123, 128, 129. 'Gardner, Admiral Lord, 293, Garth, Tliomas, 123. Green-Wilkinson's windfall, 265, 266. George III, at Windsor, 335. Gifford, of the Quarterly, 143. Gilder, Mr., army surgeon, at Waterloo, 193. Girardin, Emile de, 239. Glengal, Lord, 164. Glenlyon, Lord, 40. Gloucester, the Duke of, 160, 165, 166, 302. Gneisenau, General, at Waterloo, 200. Gooch, "the vigorous Gooch," dis tinguished services at Hugue mont, 77, 122. Goodall, Dr., headmaster of Eton College, 146, 154, 164, 165, 210. Goodricke, Sir Francis (formerly Mr, Holyoake), 311, Gordon, the Duchess of, 53, 166, 167. Gore, Lady Elizabeth (afterwards Duchess of Norfolk), 36. Gough, his suicide, 122, Graham's Club, 55-57. Grammont, Ducde, 95, 96, 1 1 8, 172, 304- Grant, his bravery at Waterloo, 76. Granville, Earl, British Ambassador in Paris, 128, 268-271 ; Lady, 268-271. Greenwood, the army agent, 65, 219, 220. Greville, Algernon, his bravery at Waterloo, 76, 205 ; Brooke, 23S ; Charles, 322, 323. Grey, Earl, 165, 331 ; and the Reform Bill, 332. Grillon's hotel, 54. Grimsby election, 1832, 308, 309. Grisi, Giulia, 3 16-3 19. Gronow, Captain E. H., his en trance into the army, 1813, 1, 2 ; departure 'for and arrival in Spain, 2-5; foolhardiness, 10-12; accompanies Sir Thomas Picton 346 Index. to Belgium, 1815, 64-66; at Quatre Bras, 66-68 ; at Waterloo, 6S-80, 186-201 ; in Paris after Waterloo, 80-S5, 104 ; as a marks- man,ii4,ii5; andtheDuchessde Berri, 123, 124 ; at a fgte given by the Duke of Orleans at the Palais Royal, 127, 128; witnesses a street conflict in Paris between the Prussians and French, 130, 131 ; a frequenter of Manton's shooting gallery, 152 ; recollec tions of Lord Byron, 151-154; meets the poet Shelley at Genoa, 155 ; at Waterloo, 186-201 ; nar row escape at Waterloo, 205, 206 ; arrival in London after AVater loo, 206 ; entertains Dr. Keate in Paris, 207-210 ; his society reminiscences — the fair sex — London and Paris, 221-232; recollections of Eton, 232-234 ; and Count Montrond, 236-240 ; witnesses the French revolution of 1848, 243-252 ; his acquaint. ance with Balzac, Eugene Sue, and Dumas, 'pire, 257-264 ; at Manchester House, his trousers, 267, 268 ; aud Orator Hunt, 281- 283 ; elected M.P. for St.afford, 282, 283 ; at Harrington House, 284-286 ; on duty at Court, 288 ; at the Paris Opera in 1815, 303 ; electioneering experiences in 1832 at Grimsby, 308, 309 ; at Stafford, 309-311 ; in Rome, 311- 3l3;_at Whiteknights, 315, 316; petition against his return for Stafford, 336, 337. Guards' Club, 55-58. Guards, the, arrival at Bordeaux, 23-25 ; their return to London in 1814, 31 ; marching from Enghien on the 15th June 1815, 64-66 ; the Duke of Wellington in their square at Waterloo, 69, 70; at Waterloo, 189-191; and hair-powder, 273, 274 ; defending Spafields prison, 281. Guiccioli, the Countess, 311, 312. Guiche, Count de (afterwards Due de Grammont), 95,96, 118, 172, 304. Guizot, M., French minister and historian, 246, 247. Gunter, the pastrycook, 322. Gurthorpe, adjutant of the Guards, at Waterloo, 199. Haibdeessinq fifty years ago, 273, 274. Halkett, Sir Colin, at Waterloo, his hand-to-hand flght with General Cambronne, 74 ; wounded by grape-shot, 74, 194. Hall4 Dr., and Napoleon I., 298. Hamlet, the jeweller of Cranbourne Alley, 135, 170, 171, Harrington, Countess of, 323, 324 ; Earl of, 284, Harrington House, and Lord Peters ham, 284-286, Harris, Captain, of thenavy, 308, 309. Harrowby, Countess of, 36 ; Karl of, 53- Hay, General Lord James, II, 131. Heathcote, Lady, 53, 268. Heavy Brigade, the, charge of, at Waterloo, 196. Hertford, Marchioness of, 42, 53, 267, 268. Hertford, Marquis of, 40, 141, 142, 255, 265. Hervey, Colonel Felton, 78, 186. Hesketli, brave defence of Hugue mont, 76, Hesse, Charles, captain of the Guards, 109, 1 57-159, Heytesbury, Lady, 58. Higgins, Colonel, 165, 166, Hill, Clement, of the Blues, wounded at Waterloo, 196. Hill, General Sir Rowland, 20, 21 ; Rowland, postmaster-general, 138- Hobhouse, Sir Johu Cam, 154. Hoby, the bootmaker of St. James's Street, 271-273. HoUand, Lady, 255, 279 ; Lord, 144. " Homme ^ bonnes fortunes," 230, 231. Hope, Sir John, 14, 21-23. Hortense, la Reine, Duchesse de St. Leu (Ex-Queen of Holland), 294- 296. Inde.i: 347 Hotel d'Angleterre, Paris, 96. Hotels in Loudon, 1S14, 53-55- Household Brigade, the unfortunate charge of, at ^Vaterloo, 77, 78, 189, 196. Howard and Gibba, Israelitish money-lenders, 57. Howe, Lady, 60. Hughes at Waterloo, 74; BaU, "The Golden Ball," 122. Hughes, Miss Ball, 122. Huguemont, 68, 74-77, 187. Hunt, Henry, " Orator Hunt," 281- 283. Hunyady, Count, 122, 123. Hutchinson, Captain, 102, 103. Hyde Park after the Peninsular War, 52, 53. Ibbetson's hotel, 54. Imperial Guard, the final charge of the, at Waterloo, 73, 74. Insults to English officers in Paris, 1815, 106-113. Italian Opera, the, 34-36. Jacquiers, proprietor of the Claren don Hotel, 54. Jacquinot's Lancers, at Waterloo, 189, 204. " Je me sauve,'' 231. Jena, bridge of, Paris, threatened to be blown up by the Prussians, 129. Jersey, Countess of, 31-33, 253 ; the Earl of, 157. "Jeunesse dor^e, et la Jeunesse Ruoltz," 228. Jew money-lenders, 131, 136. Johnstone, Mrs., the actress, 291. Jones, Gale, 281. Josephine, the Empress, 298. Junot, Marshal, Governor of Paris, 114. Kean, Edmund, 50, 209, 233. Keate, Dr. (master of Eton College), in Paris, 207-210. Keith, Admiral Lord, 158. Kellerman, General, at Quatre Bras, 67. Kellerman's Cuirassiers at Water loo, 19a Kelly, Colonel, of the Foot Guards, 160, 161 ; of the Life Guards, 195, 196. Kemble family, the, 241-243; Adelaide (Mrs. Sartoris), 243 ; Charles, 243 ; Fanny (Mrs. Butler), 243 ; Jobn, 241-243. Kempt, General Sir James, at Waterloo, 192, 2 1 9, 220. Kempt's Brigade, 67. Kent, Duke of, 272. Kinjj, Jewish moneylender, 132- 136. Knapp, master of Eton, 209, 233. Knighton, Sir William, 141. Lablache, 318. Labourie, cook to Wattier's Club, 58. Ladies' jewellery and lovers, 170, 171. Lafitte, the banker, 128. Lagrange, revolutionary agent, 250. Lake, Warrick, 53- Lamartine, A. de, his history of the Girondins, 245 ; his provisional government, 252. Lamb, Charles, "Essays of Elia," 265. Lampton, Lady Louisa, 53. Lancaster, Joseph, the schoolmaster, 138- Lansdowne, Marquis of, 144. Lapage's shooting saloon, Paris, 114. Lascelles, Colonel, "Bacchus," 9. Last charge of the French Guards at Waterloo, 73, 74. " Last of the Conversationists,'' 254. 255- Laussat, Baron de, eaves the life of Sir Frederick Ponsonby at Waterloo, 204, 205. Lavalette, his escape from prison, 100-104 ; Madame, loi. Lee, the two Mr. Lees, 289, 290. Legros, Mdlle., opera dancer, 303. Leinster, Duke of, 165. Lennox, Lord WiUiara, 134, 186. Leon, Count, natural son of Napo leon I., 159. 348 Index. Leopold, Prince of Coburg, husbaud of Charlotte, Princess of Wales, (afterwards King of the Belgians), 42. Lewis, "Monk," 143-145. " L'Homme du Sifecle," 215. " L'Homme Laid," 327. Lieven, Countess, 31-33. Light Company of the First Guards and their poodle, 313, 314. Limmer's Hotel, 54. Livry, the Marquis de, conductor of the Salon des Etrangers in Paris, 120, 121. Lloyd ("Rufus Lloyd"), 33. London Clubs in 1814, 55-58 ; hotels in 1814, 53-55 ; remark able characters, about, in 1814, 1815, 1816, 58-64 ; society in 1814, 31-34- Londonderry, Marquis of, 6, 7, 29. Louis XVIII. at the Tuileries, 1815, 83, 84 ; and Lord Westmoreland, 125. Louis Philippe, 122, 127, 128, 238, 244-252, 288. Lowther, Lord, 40. Lucan, Lady, 60. Lumley, Lord (afterwards Earl of Scarborough), 327. Luttrell, Colonel (natural son of Lord Carhampton), 252-255. Lytton, Sir Edward Bulwer, 133, 147, Macdonell, Colonel, his heroic services at Huguemont, 76. Mackinnon, Colonel ("Dan Mac kinnon "), of the Guards, 33, 61, 62, 231, 232. Macmahon, Sir William, 40. Madame Mfere (Napoleon's mother), 294, 295- Mad as a hatter, 283, 284. Mad friend, a, 331, 332. Madison, the Prince Regent's page, 58. Mad nobleman, a, 337-340. Maill^, Due de, 304. Maison Dor^, Cafd, Paris, 96. Maitland, General, at AVaterloo, 187, 199. Malet, General, his conspiracy, 24a Malibran, Maria, 316-319. Manchester, the Duchess of, 335 j the Duke of, 167. Manchester House, party at, in 1816, and the Regent's etiquette, 267, 268. Manton, Joe, gunmaker, 115, 286, 287; hisshootinggallerj-, 115, 152. March, Earl of (afterwards Duke of Richmond), 22, 66 ; wounded at Orthes, 22, 77 ; at Waterloo, 77. 194. Marie Antoinette's bonbonnieres, 334- Marie Louise, Empress, 236. Marlborough, Duchess of, 35 ; Duke of, 56, 208, 233, 302, 314-316. Mars, Mdlle., French actress, 213- 215. Mary, Princess, 41. Matthias, his attack on the writings of "Monk" Lewis, 143-145. Melbourne, Lord, 165. Metternich, Prince, 177, 236. Meurice's Hotel, Paris, 96. Mildmay, Sir Henry, 267. Milhaud's cavalry at Waterloo, 189. Military education, 324-326 Military murder of Marshal Ney, 85, 86. Milles Colonnes, Caf4 97. MiUs, John, 33. Mistaken opinion of the English army (Napoleon's), 203, 204. Molyneux, the Ladies, 53. Moneylenders, 131-136. "Monk" Lewis, 143-145. "Monsieur, vous-tricliez," 234, 235. Montagu, Duke of, aud Alexander Pope, 274 ; Edward, 33, 91, 301. Montague, his brigade at Hugue, mont, and gaUant defence, 77. Montessu, Madame, opera dancer 303- Montford, Lady, 42. Montgomery, Miss, 33 ; Mr., 33. Montrond, Count, 234-240. Moore, Sir John, 53. Morier, English minister to Switzer land, 332, 333. Morton, Earl of, 53. Index. 349 Mountjoy, Lady, 53. Mufliing, Commander-in-Chief of the Prussian Army in Paris, 207. Musset, Alfred de, 262. Muter, Colonel, of the Inniskil- lings, 197, 198. Nagle, Admiral, 326, 327. Naples, Queen of, 159. Napoleon I., Emperor of the French, 7 ; at Quatre Bras, 67 ; at Water loo, 68, 69, 83, 85,97, "4, 159, 174, 176-179, 180; at Waterloo, 183-191, 203, 204, 210, 215 ; and Count Montrond, 235, 236, 276, 294-299. Napoleon, Louis (afterwards Napo leon III.), Emperor of the French, 119, 176-178, 283, 284, 294- 296. Narbonne, Madame de, and Chelsea buns, 323, 324. Needham, his bravery at Waterloo, 76. Nelson, Earl of, 53. Nemours, Due de, 244, 248. Neumand, Baron de, 33, Ney, Marshal, at Quatre Bras, 67, 85, 86, 101, 102, 188, 189, 207 ; and the Duke of Wellington, 85, 86. Nivelle, battle of the, 1813, :8-2i. Noailles, Vicomtesse de, 300. Noblet, Mdlle., danseuse, 121, 303, 304- Norfolk, Duke of, 328, 329. Normanby, Lord (afterwards Mar quis of), 165. Oatlands Park, 158. O'Connell, Daniel, the Liberator, 321, 333, 334 ; Morgan, his duel with Lord Alvanley, 321. Opera, the Italian, 34-36; the Paris, 125, 126; in 1815, 303- 305- Orange, Prince of, at Waterloo, 65, 67, 186. Orleans, Due d', 244 ; Duchess of, 248, 252 (afterwards Queen Marie Amelie), 288. Ornano, General, and " Pere la Chaise," 162, 275, 276. Orthes, battle of, and the loth Hussar^, 22. Our officei-s, Picton's opinion of, 324-326. Oxford, Couutess of, gl, 104, 3C0. Pack's Brigade, 67. Packe, Major, of the Blues, killed at Waterloo, 196. Paekenham, Sir Edward, 10, Palais Royal, the, after the Restora tion, 86-90 ; conflict in the, be tween the Prussians and French, 106, 131. Palmer, General, 138-143. Palmerston, Viscount, 33, 147, 153. Panmure, Lord, 34. Paris, Count de, 244. Paris after Waterloo, 86-131, 299- 308 ; appearance of, when entered by the Allied Armies, 80-85 > fashions in 1815, at the occupa tion, 82, 83 ; gambling establish ments — the Salon des Etrangers, 120-123. Parisian cafds in 1815, 95-97. Pauline, Princess Borghese, 295. Peace's illuminations, 1814, 256. Pecheron, the Abb^, and George Talbot, 148, 149. Peel, Sir Robert, 153. Pembroke, Earl of, 255. Peninsular War, Hyde Park after the, 52, S3. Percival, Captain, of the Ist Life Guards at Waterloo, badly wounded, 76, 194. Perier, Casimir, 91, 128. Perigord, Madame Edmond de Duchesse de Sagan, 300. Peronne la Pucella, 201, 202. Peters, Colonel, riding - master, 326. Petersham, Viscount, 284-2S6. Petition against Gronow's return for Stafford, 336, 337. Phelps, vocalist (afterwards made a Baronet), 162. Picton, General Sir Thomas, 64-67, 185, 187-189, 192, 324-326. 350 Index. Pierrepoint, Henry, 33. Pig-faced lady of Grosvenor Square, the fabled, 255-257. Pistol shooting, 114, 115, 151-154. Pitt, William, premier, 59, 150. Play and drinking in fashion, 33, 34, 87-90. Plymouth, Earl of, 45, 161. Pole, Long Wellesley, 63 ; Miss Tylney, 64. Pompadour, la Marquise de, and the Duke of Norfolk, 327-329. Ponsonby, Sir Frederick, son of Lord Bessborough, commanding the 12th Light Dragoons at Waterloo, 204, 205, 313, 314; Sir William, at Waterloo, 77, 189, 197. Poodle of the 1st Guards, 313, 314. Portland, the Duke of, 55. Potage k la Pompadour, 327-329. Practical jokes — "Dan Mackinnon at St. Andero's," 61, 62. Praslin, Duchesse de, 244. Princes, Continental, in Paris after Waterloo, 87, 97, 99, 129. Prussia, King ot, in Paris, 1815,87, 97, 130- Prussiau army in Paris, 1815, 81, 130, 131, 206, 207 ; troops, the, at Waterloo, 190, 199-203 ; in Paris, 206, 207. "Puritani," II, 318. Quatre Bras, 66-68, 185. Queensberry, Duke of, 289, 290. Quinet's defence of Marshal Ney, 183. Quintin, Colonel, of the loth Hus sars, 22. Rachel, Mdlle., French tragedienne, 215-219. Racing in 1815, 94, 95. Raikes, Thomas, 58, 164, 227, 279. R&amier, Madame, 298. Regent, the Prince (afterwards George IV.), 30, 38-43, 44-46, 53. 57, 58, 78, 79. 120, 121, 139, 141, 142, 158, 163, 170, 243, 267, 268, 304, 326, 327, 335, 336. Eeiolistadt, Due de, and Fanny Elssler, 126. Remarkable characters of London about the years 1814, 1B15, 1816, 58-64. Restoration of the Bourbons, state of the Palais Royal at the, 86-90. Review of the Allied Armies by the Allied Sovereigns in Paris, 1815, 97, 98. Revolutions of 1830 and 1848, 243- 252. Richmond, Duke of (as Earl of March), 22, 66 ; wounded at Orthes, 22, 77 ; at Waterloo, 77, 167, 186. Robespierre, Maximilien, and the fall of the Tenor, 235. Rochefoucauld, Due de la, 96, 304 ; Sostennes, de la, 125, 126. Rocher de Cancalle, Paris, 96. Rogers, Samuel, the banker and poet, 237, 252-254. Roles, the brewer, 94. Rollin, Ledra, and the Revolution of 1848, 252. Romeo Coates, 47-52. Ros, Henry de (afterwards Lord de Ros), 33, 208. Rossini, the composer, 277. Rowland, the fashionable coiffeur, and his Macassar oil, 274. Rovigo, Due de, 240. Rubini, 318. Russia, Eraperor of, in Paris, 1815, 97.. 98, 130. Russian Army occupation of Paris, 207. Rutland, Duchess of, 53 ; Duke of, 45- Ryder, Lady Susan, 33 ; the Ladies Susan and Mary, 33, 36. St. Jean de Luz, 1813, 7-10. Salisbury, Lady, 9. Sally Lunn cakes, 'the origin of, 323. 324- Salon des Etrangers, Paris, 114, 120, 123,304. Saltoun, Lord, commanding the light battalions of the Guards, his Index. 351 bravery at Waterloo, 75-76 ; at Huguemont, 198, 199 ; at Pe ronne, 202, 210. Sand, George, 262. Sauzet, President of the Chamber of Deputies, 1848, 252. Saye and Sele, Lord, 275. Schwartzenberg, Prince, 98. Scotch regiments bivouacking in the Champs Elysdes, 81. Scots Greys at Waterloo, 196. Scott, Genera], 55, 56 ; John (son of Lord Eldon), 233, 234 ; Sir Walter, 137, 138, 149-151- Sefton, Lady, 31, 32 ; Earl of, 45, 53, 237. Selwyn, George, gambling at Brookes's Club, 56. Seymour,Lord Henry, 171-173 ; Sir Horace, heroic valour at Water loo, 197, 268 ; Hugh, his brave defence of Huguemont, 76. Shakerley, Sir Charles, 302, 303. Shaving in one minute, and Colonel EUiston, 210, 211. Shaw, the Lifeguardsman and ex- prize-fighter, his heroic valour and death at Waterloo, 195, ig6. Shelley, Mr., M.P., 308, 309; Sir John, 98, 272 ; Lady, 98 ; Percy B., the poet, 154-156. Sheridan, R. Brinsley, 115, 133, 145. Siddons, Mrs., 242. Silves's Cafe, a Bonapartist rendez vous, Paris, 109. Skeffiugton, Sir Lumley, 63, 137. Smith, Sir Charles, 94; Rev. Syd ney, canon and humorist, 254. Smythe, George (afterwards Lord Strangford), 147, 213. Snuff-taking, 334-336. Society in London in 1814, 31-34. Solomon, Jewish money-lender, 132-136. Somerset, Lord Edward, at Water loo, 77, 189, 197 ; Lord Fitzroy, 3, 66 ; at AVaterloo, 186. Sophia, Princess, 41. Soult, Marshal, 3, 12, 18-23 5 a* Waterloo, 204. Southey, Robert, poet laureate, 156, IS7- Sowerby, Tom, his brave defence of Huguemont, 76 ; Colonel, of the Guards, 121. Spafields riots, 1816-17, 281-283. Spencer, Lord Francis (created Lord Churchill), 315 ; Lord Rohert, 56. Stael, Madame de, 91, 298, 327. Stafford, borough of, 282 ; election, 1832, 282, 309-311, 336, 337 ; Marchioness of, 36. Standen, Jack, conspicuous bravery at Huguemont, 77. Standish, Charles, 33, 91, 301 ; Hall, 122. Stanhope, Augustus, 284 ; General Lincoln, 284, 285. Stanhope, Colonel, at Waterloo, 70. Staples, Colonel, bravery and death at Waterloo, 72, 191. Staub, fashionable tailor. Rue Richelieu, 267. Stephen's Hotel, 54, 55. Stephey, Sir 'i'homaa, 57. Stewart, Major-General Sir Charles, and Lord WeUiugton, 6, 7, 125 ; General Sir William, 21. Stopford, General, 11,22; Cajitain, 68. Stowell, Lord, 34. Strachan, Admiral Sir Richard, 291-293. Strange rencontre, a, 290, 291. Strangford, Lord, 147, 213. Strathaven, Lord (afterwards Mar quis of Huntly), 302. Street conflicts in Paris in 1815, 106, 130, 131. Strength of the Duke of Welling ton's forces at Waterloo, 212, 213. Stuart, Colonel, 187 ; Sir Charles, British Ambassador to Paris, 1815, 99, 100 ; Lady Elizabeth, 327 ; Lord James, 208. Sue, Eugene, 245, 257-61. Sumner and other Eton masters, 146, 154, 164, 165, 207-210, 232-234. Sussex, Duke of, 291, 323. Sylvester, Mrs., 291. 352 Index. Talbot, Hon. George, 148, 149. TaUeyrand, Prince de, 85, 235, 236, 239, 300. Talma, the actor, 83. Tamburini, 318. Tathwell, Lieutenant, of the Blues, taken prisoner at Waterloo, 196, 197- Taylor, Sir Herbert, 29 ; Michael Angelo, M.P., 58-60. Tenth Hussars at the battle of Orthes, 22. Thanet, Lord, 120, 121 ; his gamb ling proclivities, 128. "Then and Now," 221-232. Thevenat, Geueral, 22. Thielman, General, in Paris during the occupation, 207. Thiers and Waterloo, 181-183. Thornton, Captain, 109. Three heroic brothers, 178-180. Tilbury, Mr., carriage-builder, 273. Tortoni's caf^ frequented by noto rious duellists, 104, 105, 108, 208. Townshend, the Bow Street runner, 286-288 ; Hon. H., "Bull Towns- hend," II. Tree, Maria (Mrs, Bradshaw), 167- 170. Trois Fr^res Provengeaux, Re staurant, 97, Turton, Sir Thomas, 145-147. Tyler, Major, aide-de-camp to Sir Thomas Picton, 64, 65, Tynte, Charles, "a neutral tint,'" 334- Tyrwhitt, Sir Thomas, 141, 142. Upton, General Sir Arthur, 46 ; Arthur, 91, 238. Usury, 136. Uxbridge, Earl of, 77 ; at Water loo, 189. \m Victis, 202, 203. Vails to servants, 273-275. Valabreque, M. de (husband of Madame Catalini), 35. Vieille Guarde, la, at Waterloo, 190, Vincent, Baron, 186 ; Sir Francis, 122, Visiting in the country, 159, 160, Vittoria, battle of, fSte at Carlton House Palace, 41, Vyner, his bravery at Waterloo 76, Walcheren expedition, the Earl of Chatham, and Sir Richard Strachan, 292. Waldegrave, Lady, 8. Wales, Princess Charlotte of, at a fSte at Carlton House in 18 13, 40-43; Princess of, 30, 40-43, 158. Ward (afterwards Lord Dudley), 176, 177, 254, 337-40, Wardle, Colonel, and Mrs, Mary Anne Clarke, 28-31. Warrender, Sir George, 339. Waterloo, retreat on, from Quatre Bras, 67 ; battle of, 67-80, 178- 206. Waters, Sir John, 14-18 ; Mr,, of the Opera House, 36, Wattier, the Prince of Wales's steward, 40, 57, 58. Wattier's Club, 55. Webster, Wedderburn, 151-153. Wellington, Duke of, 2, 3, 6-10, 15-18, 20-23, 32, 53, 62-66 ; at Waterloo, 66-79, 84-86, 97, 98, 129, 130, 158, 182, 184, 186-191, 199-202, 204, 206, 207, 212, 213, 266, 267, 269, 272, 273, 325, Westmoreland, Lord, 59, 60, 124, 125, Weston, fashionable tailor, of Old Bond Street, 44. AVhite's Club, 55-57, Whiteknights, near Reading (resi dence of the Marquis of Bland ford), 314-316. "Who is your friend," 226. AVigston, Captain, of the 3d Guards 186. William IV., 41, 165, 287, 2S8. Willis, Mr., keeper of Almack's, 32. Willoughby, Lady, 31, 32. Wilson, General Sir Robert, 102- 104, Index. 3.53 winohester, the Bishop of, and Bean Brummell, 336, Wood, Alderman, iu Paris, 125. Worcester, the Marquis of, 33, Worcester, Marchioness of, 46, Wounded, sufferings of the, at Waterloo, 200, 201. Yarborough, Earl of, and Grimsby election, 308, 309. Yarmouth, Lord, afterwards Mar quis of Hertford, 40, 141, 142, 255- , York, Duke of, and Mrs. Clarko, 25-31- York, Duke of, 25-31 ; at Carlton House, 41, 42, 46, 53, 58, 60-62, 112, 113, 135, 157, 158, 170, 238, 273, 290, 291, 330, 331. York, Duchess of, 157, 158. Young Guard, the, at Huguemont, 198, 199. PKINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSCN AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON. VOL. L YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 03747 6869 fMy^mMMp- r."'--'.,v.r '•:::<•¦¦> 'ry^':::.:'