The Letter-Bag of Lady Elizabeth Spencer-Stanhope - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Letter-Bag of Lady Elizabeth Spencer-Stanhope Part 27 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
I hear nothing of the man taken up for shooting at the Duke, if it is true that one has been secured. Poor Bacon was taken up by 5 Gens d'Arms at nine in the morning and after a secret examination sent to the Conciergerie. It was conjectured he was concerned with a Banker who went off--but instead of that being true, the Banker absconded with all _his_ money! Sir C. Stuart means to make a fuss about it, for no one is safe if taken up and confined only on suspicion.
The King on one of the most stormy days we have had took three people out to prevent their voting for the Recruiting Bill. However, they contrived to get back in time, by which means it was carried by four.
He was angry--they said they did it as a point of duty to him.
Lady Mansfield's Ball was fine--but too many women in proportion to the men, and many of the latter old. A great many French. I only saw one Lady out of each family. Many, many young ladies sat out. All the _ton_ French ladies danced the whole night. Lady M. hoped she should see you, tho' she forgot to invite you.
Lord Alvanley came to Paris a few days ago with his mistress. They refused him admittance at the _Hotel de Londres_, saying they had English families there, among others "the great Mrs Beaumont." He coolly replied that they need not mind _her_, for her fortune had been made by keeping a house of bad character; and so he got in! Did you ever hear of such _scandalous impudence_!
On behalf of Lord Alvanley, however, it may be added that about this date another story got abroad respecting him which redounds more to his credit.
He and Lord Kinnaird were playing whist one evening, when, owing to some mistaken move in the game on the part of Lord Alvanley, Lord Kinnaird completely lost his self-control and abused his friend in the most violent manner. Lord Alvanley listened in silence to the torrent of denunciation, then, rising from the card table, observed very quietly, "Not being blessed with your Lords.h.i.+p's angelic temper, I shall retire for fear of losing mine!"
Moreover, Marianne Stanhope, about the same time, makes mention of an instance of Lord Alvanley's good-nature which came under her notice. It appears that one of his greatest friends was an Irish dandy who, for long, went by the nickname of "King Allen" on account of his having achieved a unique position in the world of fas.h.i.+on. This monarch of the _beau monde_ spent his days, as did others of his cla.s.s, exhibiting his faultless clothes in fas.h.i.+onable resorts; and so wedded was he to this existence that he could seldom be persuaded to quit London even for the benefit of his health.
Once, however, Lord Alvanley found his friend moping at the sea-side, a prey to profound depression, and spending sleepless nights tossing on his couch, unable to account to his own satisfaction either for his insomnia or his melancholia. With the intuition of a kindred soul Lord Alvanley at once probed the root of the dandy's complaint. He recognised that it was impossible for such a man to exist apart from the bustle and noise of the great city to which he was accustomed, and _faute de mieux_, Lord Alvanley invented a remedy. At his own expense, he engaged a hackney coachman who undertook to rattle his vehicle up and down past King Allen's lodgings till the early dawn, and another man who agreed to shout the hours throughout the night in the strident tones of a London watchman. The ruse was successful. Whether other persons living in the neighbourhood were equally pleased, history does not relate, but the melancholy dandy, deluded into a belief that he was back once more in his favourite haunts, slumbered peacefully, and was in time restored in perfect health to the scenes of his former triumph.
Indeed, "Lord Alvanley," wrote Lady Granville at a later date, "was quite charming. _Le meilleur enfant_, which does not mean _homme_, but I cannot persuade myself that he is much altered and that he will end by being a very good, as he is a most captivating, person. Such cleverness, _si fin, si simple_, without one grain of effort. What a receipt for being, as he is, quite charming!"
Moreover, if the tale be true of the affront which he is said to have offered to Mrs Beaumont, the great lady had manifold compensations. Mrs Stanhope relates:--
The Prince de Bauffremont [10] proposed _a la francaise_ to Mrs Beaumont for one of her daughters, but she, not understanding the style, took it to herself, and answered with great dignity that she was extremely sorry she was not in a situation to be able to accept it!
While in Paris, the Stanhopes had a sad encounter with a former friend, which was curiously typical of existence in the gay city at that date.
When Charles Stanhope was at Southampton he had there made the acquaintance of a charming old bachelor, Mr Hibbert. The latter showed him many kindnesses, and, in return, was invited to Cannon Hall for some shooting. John Stanhope records his subsequent history thus:--
"Poor Mr Hibbert! his was indeed a melancholy history. He lived near Southampton, an old bachelor, and then as happy a specimen of that race as I ever saw. He had been a very handsome man, but had unfortunately been bent almost double by a rheumatic fever; however, his face was still striking. He was full of taste and accomplishments, and apparently very well informed, clever and agreeable in society. He was not rich, but evidently possessed fortune enough to supply him with all the luxuries that in his single state he could require. When he visited Cannon Hall he was travelling in a very agreeable manner in his curricle with his own horses, the whole _bien monte_.
"Unfortunately he went to Paris when the Peace was signed, and he, who had never touched a card when in England, was persuaded to go to the Salon. He could not refrain from trying his luck, and from that moment he was never absent from the Salon when its dangerous doors were open. He was driven away from Paris by Napoleon's return; he went back there after the _cent jours_ and lost every farthing that he possessed, ending his life as a miserable pensioner in the establishment--I believe within its walls."
Mr Hibbert's fate was indeed all too common at that date amongst those who once entered the dangerous doors of the _Salon des etrangers_. This was an inst.i.tution established for confirmed gamblers, and was kept by the celebrated Marquis de Livry, whose resemblance to the Regent was so remarkable that the latter sent Lord Fife over to Paris to ascertain if it could be so striking as report a.s.serted. The Marquis did the honours of his club with a grace and courtesy for which he became renowned in Europe.
He provided his clients with the most perfect cuisine and every possible luxury, while, on Sunday, those who had been most regular in their attendance, were rewarded by an invitation to his Villa near Paris, where ladies from the opera were welcomed to meet them, and the society was of the most doubtful description.
None, indeed, who found their way to the Salon issued thence unscathed, and its existence coloured the whole of Parisian society of that day.
Fortunes were there staked and lost, many of the victims disappearing mysteriously, some having committed suicide, others, like Mr Hibbert, having become so deeply involved in debt that they could not leave the premises. Lord Thanet, for one, lost there a fortune of 50,000 a year, of which 120,000 was expended in a single night. When remonstrated with on his folly, and the probability pointed out to him that he had been cheated, he only exclaimed with the recklessness born of the fatal atmosphere of the place, "Well, I consider myself fortunate in not having lost twice that sum!"
Meanwhile Marianne and her sisters were observing the difference between the dandies of Almack's, whom they had deserted, and the beaux of French society with whom they were now to mingle. Later their conclusions were given to the world:--
Striking indeed is the difference between a true John Bull and a Continentalist in a ball-room. The first generally looks as if he could not help himself; he has adjourned to Almack's from the House of Lords, the House of Commons, or the Inns of Court; and business, with sad recollection, still pursues him at every step.... What excitation then will move his apathy? Why, that of vanity alone; a pretty woman must make love to him. And this is the best explanation that can be given why, in England, the women always make the first advances to the men; and if they did not, there would, I believe, be no love at all in the fas.h.i.+onable world.
But mark the Continentalist! how is he armed for conquest when he enters the ball-room?....
So accomplished a creature, so bewitching and bewitched must of course consider himself quite irresistible. Yet have all these Continentalists, and particularly the sons of France, the air of annihilating themselves before the fair; their obsequiousness and humility are unbounded: hence their rapid execution among the female s.e.x. To be herself admired by an all-conquering Adonis, is so much more pleasing to a gay young woman than the having only to admire him.
Such is the difference between a French and an English dandy: the first is an impertinent, affected c.o.xcomb, who makes love to every woman as a matter of course--it is his vocation. The second is a cold, contemptuous, conceited creature, intrenched in a double armour of selfishness, blase upon everything. [11]
Despite this scathing criticism, the Stanhopes do not appear to have lacked amus.e.m.e.nt in their new surroundings.
_Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope_.
35 RUE DE LA MADELEINE., _Sunday, April 5th, 1818._
Little has occurred since I wrote to you last week except the Duke of Wellington's delightful and superb ball. We may consider ourselves fortunate in being invited, as the list was his own and he would not allow the _aide-de-camps_ to interfere. Isabella, Frances, and myself arrived about eleven. The rooms were then full, and soon after arrived the Royal Family. The d.u.c.h.ess de Berri danced, but they all went away about twelve, as did numbers of the French. Everybody _sat_ at supper, several rooms were open--round tables in all. The Duke retired soon after supper, and left Col. Fremantle to do the honours, which he did, first by doubling the champagne, then by making the ball go with spirit. We stayed till the last and did not get home till five. He sent permission to as many of the Officers as liked to come from Cambrai, and they readily obeyed the Command. I believe there were 300 of the Guards, almost everybody in uniform. Markham looked very antique in a full dressed brown coat.
We were at a ball at Lady Mansfield's on Tuesday, a very fine ball, all the _ton_ French, but that did not make it gay. She had a fine sitting supper. I am sorry the English suppers are coming into fas.h.i.+on here.
Madame de Chabaunes had a French dance on Friday, plenty of dancing men, tho' we were at home before twelve.
Last night we heard Catalani, finer than ever; she goes soon, never to sing at the Opera again. [12] She was more superb in diamonds at the Duke's than anybody.
Mrs Beaumont goes on Sat.u.r.day. She will astonish the weak minds of the English by an account of her triumphs in Paris. She desires we will contradict the report of her daughters' marriages; she takes them back, instead of leaving them d.u.c.h.esses and Princesses!
_Marianne Spencer-Stanhope._ 35 RUE DE LA MADELEINE, _Sunday, April 5th._
I will not lose the opportunity, my dear John, of sending you a few lines by Mr Hunter, who called this morning to tell us of his departure.
For the last ten days we have had complete March weather, a hot sun and very cold wind. We are just returned from a dusting in the _Bois de Boulogne_, where all the _beau monde_ were a.s.sembled. Lord Burghersh escorting Lady Aldborough, who is going to England, Lady B.
in _the Duke's_ carriage. Mrs Beaumont and family, marvellous to relate, in a very shabby carriage. The girls are heart-broken at leaving Paris; "Madame" informed us she had had various offers, both for them and Wentworth, but so far neither Prince T. de B., nor E. de Beauvais. The former was engaged "to a fine French young lady," but as he was coming to London, and would of course be much with them, "the report would probably gain ground." She therefore hoped we would contradict it. She is _greater_ than ever; I think London will not hold her; she has been laying out mints of money.
Isabella and Frances enjoyed the Duke of Wellington's ball much. I finished their gowns with the red roses for the occasion, and they looked particularly well. They stayed till five in the morning. Many of the Guards came from Cambray, and they found many friends of Philip's.
Yesterday we went to take leave of Catalani in the _Nozze di Figaro_.
She sang delightfully. I think we missed you all more and more, and shall feel most happy when we have again a beau without walls. I think you will like the house at Versailles, but you have no idea how difficult we found it to meet with anything that would hold us.
My father's extreme anxiety to go to England has now a little abated; his general health and spirits are good, but he has a wonderful degree of irritation and restlessness about him. The alteration in his mind strikes me every day, his memory is so much altered, and his deafness is increased.
Towards the end of April Mrs Stanhope and her family moved to Versailles, and their account is not without interest of the appearance presented by that town after the strange transformations which it had witnessed.
VERSAILLES, _April 30th, 1818._
We are now beginning to feel settled, our House is comfortable and the situation pretty, and, though in the town, we see only trees from our windows. It is certainly the dullest looking large town I ever saw, for the gra.s.s grows in some of the streets; but a place which formerly was so splendid & contained 80,000 inhabitants, & has not now above 20,000, must look neglected.
We have delivered our letters and seen some of the People, but they are very shy of the English, or rather Irish, for there are nothing else here; friendly, good sort of People, but not very genteel. The Caldwells are here only for a week, and Lady Hoste is at a considerable distance. The other people you do not know.
There is _Mrs Beauman_ here, who is the "Beaumont" of the Place.
She gave a Ball, took off her doors, hung her rooms with red and gold, and had her supper from Paris, at which there was nothing so vulgar as a roast chicken. Her husband lives at Paris and is in the Navy. She was a Miss Webber & rich. I have not seen her, nor am I anxious to cultivate the English here.
VERSAILLES, _June 31st, 1818._
We have plenty of French society.... Philip wants Edward to take a _Grande Cha.s.se_ near Dresden, which he may have for thirty pounds a year, full of Boars, Staggs, Does, Black c.o.c.k, Capercailzie, Pheasants and Partridges innumerable. He writes an anecdote which I must give you:--An English merchant was hunting one day with the King of Saxony and, observing that the hounds were inferior, asked the Intendant if he thought the King would accept any English Dogs. "To be sure," replied the Intendant, and thought no more of it. About eight months after, the King received notice from a Merchant at Frankfort that a pack of hounds waited his orders there from England. The King was delighted and wrote to the Regent to pa.s.s a Service of Dresden China, duty free, to his generous friend; therefore the English Merchant was well rewarded for his attention.
We were last night at a ball at Lady Hales's [13] where we found them dancing at nine and left them dancing at two; such numbers of men I never saw anywhere, and yet one may walk about for hours and scarcely ever see one.