Fifty-One Years of Victorian Life

alth again obliged my father to take her to the South of France. This ti

spital at Ville Neuve, among other curious old paintings, one by King Réné d'Anjou. It represented the Holy Family, and my childish eyes carried away the impression of a lovely infant patting a soft woolly lamb. So completely was I fascinated that, being again at Lyons after my marriage, I begged my husband to drive out specially to see the picture of my dream. Alas! ten years had changed my eyesight, and instead of the ideal figures,

NT

e ex-Lord Chancellor Brougham, already King of Cannes. He was then eighty-five, and I have a vague recollection of his being very voluble; but I was most occupied with his great-nephew, a brother of the present Lord Brougham, who had a little house of his own in the garden which was enough to fascinate any child. From Cannes we drove to Nice, about which I record that "the only thing in Nice is the sea." We had considerable difficulty in our next stage from Nice to Mentone, as a rock had in one place fallen from the top of a mountain to the valley below and filled up part of the road with the débris of its fall. At Mentone we spent over three weeks, occup

he sea, or made up stories or poems, or invented imaginary kingdoms to be shared with my s

ere had not been contemplated, our library was rather restricted, but two little volumes which she had brought, one of Dryden, and Milton's "Paradise Regained," afforded me happy hours. Also I perpetrated an Epic in six Cantos on the subject of Rienzi! From Mentone we went to San Remo for a week, returning to Mentone Feb

tion that fish was not also consumed. Then there appeared great questions as to who would consent to sit down with whom. We were told that orange-pickers would not sit down with orange-carriers. As a matter of fact I believe that it was against etiquette for women to sit down with the men, and that in the end 300 workmen sat down in the garden of the H?tel Victoria (where we were staying) and I can still recollect seeing the women standing laughing behind t

e was told by my aunt Macclesfield-(appointed Lady-in-Waiting to the Pri

ith his mother, saying that they understood that he was to have worn the uniform of a Prussian officer. "I am very sorry," said his mother; "he had it on, but Beatrice and Leopold" (the Duke of A

E

eached March 16th, having stopped on the way at San Remo, Alassio, and Savona. At Genoa we joined my mother'

had seen some map in which the Italians had marked as their own territory, not only what they had lately acquired, but all to which they then aspired; I hardly imagine the Trentino, but certainly Venice. Uncle Archy scoffed at their folly-with precocio

ht a great deal of family, and precedence, and that one day he scandalised her by

erman-Jewish descent, was to make arrangements. The whole Grosvenor family and all its married connections were up in arms, and my father was dispatched to remonstrate with her. With much annoyance and reluctance she gave in-and soon after married Dr. Frank! The family were again astounded, but after

incidents in my journal, but they are much what occur in all such expeditions and I need not dilate on the beauties of mountain, sea, and sky which everyone knows so well. At Spezia we saw the scene of Shelley's shipwreck, and on one coast of the Gulf the prison where Garibaldi had been interned not very long before. I record that it was a large building, and that his rooms, shown us by a sailor, were "very nice." I trust that he found

GAR VE

or our homeward journey, but on one or the other we met at the Palace of the Popes at Avignon an old custodian who had fought at Trafalgar and been for some years prisoner in England. He showed with some prid

took part in that battle. Nelson's servant had a little room hung all round with pictures of the hero. My father asked him whether the Admiral said the prayer which one print represents him as reciting on his

in omnibuses? However, a year or two before her death the late Duke of Northumberland (grandson of her husband's cousin and successor) told me with great glee that they had succeeded in getting Duchess Eleanor into a taxi and that she had enjoyed it very much. I cannot think how they managed it. She lived during her widowhood at Stanwick Park, and my youngest sister Cordelia had a rather comical experience when staying with her there on one occasion. My aunt, among other tabooed innovations, altogether objected to motors and would not allow any through her Lodge gates. Previous to her visit to Stanwick, Cordelia had stay

TER AND GRE

d died without a will, and all the property, including the beautiful Muncaster Castle in Cumberland, went to the child though her uncle succeeded to the title. However, poor little Mimi died when she was eleven years old, so her uncle succeeded to the property after all. He was the Lord Muncaster who was captured by the brigands near Marathon in 1870 with his wife and her sister, Miss L'Estrange, Mr. Vyner, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd, and two other men. The brigands let the ladies go without injury-Lady Muncaster had hidden her rings in her mouth to protect them-but they would only let one man go to get ransom for the rest. The men drew lots and it fell to Vyner, but he absolutely refused to take the chance, saying that he was a bachelor a

OSVENO

called her Theodora-the gift of God. Certainly she was greatly attached to the child, and I fancy that the little Theodora was given much more spoiling and freedom than her elder sisters. She was very lively and amusing, and being the only daughter left unmarried when my grandfather died-in

I really believe that he was oppressed with his great wealth, and never sure that he was justified in spending much on himself and his family. When he became a thorough invalid before his death he wa

house. I have heard, from a neighbour who recollected the incident, that when it was being built the workmen employed would chisel rough representations of each other

r knew a man more anxious to do all he could for the people about him, whether in the country or on his London property. He had very much the feeling of a patriarch and loved nothing better than to have about him the generations of his family. It was a complicated family, as he married first his own f

en figs in consequence. The third sister was Caroline, twin with Augusta, but very different, for whereas Aunt Gussie was delicate and nervous, not to say irritable, Aunt Car was slow and substantial. She ended with marrying when no longer very young an old cousin of my father's, a clergyman, Lord Saye and Sele, who had actually baptized her early in life. She made him an excellent wife; she had numerous step-children, though none of her own. Looking back

S AND

ity. Then he went to India, where he remained eleven years, and returned to find the lady still faithful, and having accumulated a sufficient fortune married her. They had a nice little country house on the borders of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire, and, though they had no children, were one of the happiest old couples I ever knew. My great-aunt died in 1870, but Uncle East lived till over ninety and went out hunting almost to the end-so eleven years of India had not done him much h

he following one my parents took me to the Isle of Arran and left me there for a time with a maid-while they accompanied my brother Gilbert back to school. I loved the Isle of Arran, and was only disturbed by the

was born. My aunt welcomed us in the Princess of Wales's pretty sitting-room hung with a kind of brocade with a pattern of roses. The baby was then brought in to be

(Confederate) President, came to stay at Stoneleigh. He was over in Europe on parole. We were told that he had been in prison, and one of my younger brothers was anxious to know whether we "should see the marks of the chains." We had a favourite old housemaid who was preparing his room, and we imparted to her the

ressed my cousins and myself by the paternal way i

ournemouth respectively, but our experiences were too ordinary to be worthy of record. I think I was about seventeen when I went with my parents to Vichy

IRMA

. The clergyman seemed a good deal surprised, and I rather fancy that I was the only Candidate. He was an old man who had been there for a long time. He said that he would come and see me at my parents' house, and duly arrived at 37 Portman Square. I was sent in to my father's sitting-room for the interview, and I believe that he was more embarrassed than I was, for I had long been led to regard Confirmation as the proper sequence to learning my Catechism and a fitting step in religious life. The clergyman somewhat uneasily remarked that he had to ascertain that I knew my Catechism, and asked me to say it. This I could have done in my sleep, as it had for years formed part of my Sunday instruction. When I ended he asked after a slight p

the poor old clergyman. No doubt in those days Preparation for Confirmation was not regarded as seriously as at present, but I

ING

Thence my brother and I went to Hans Hall to the coming-of-age of my cousin Charles Adderley, now Lord Norton. The whole country-side swarmed to the festivities, and one party unable to obtain any other conveyance chartered a hearse. Miss

evotion to the Prince Consort and to his memory was unparalleled. No doubt the fact that she had practically never had anyone with whom she could associate on equal terms until her marriage had a good deal to do with it. I know of a lady whom she summoned to sit with her when the P

on. The "great houses" then existed-they had not been pulled down or turned into public galleries and offices. Stafford House, Grosvenor House, Northumberland House, and others

e went back to them between the dances. "Sitting-out" did not come in till some years later. In the country, however, there was plenty of freedom, and I never remember any restriction on parties of girls and young men walking or rowing together w

natured younger brothers and sisters accepted my rule-probably also because it was easier than that of a real grown-up person. My mother had bad health, and my father took it for granted that it was my business to keep the young ones as far as possible out of mischief. As for my sister Agnes, she was always a saint, and I am afraid that I was a tyrant as far as she was concerned. Cordelia was born when I was

EL

e crossed in the Leinster and duly lionised Dublin. I kept a journal during this tour in which the sights of the city are duly note

e when she would follow him. I remember that Brough was much embarrassed when I innocently asked why he did this. However, he discreetly replied: "If your honourable father and your honourable mother want you to marry a gentleman and you don't like him, don't push him into the water!" Excellent advice and not difficult to follow in a general way. When St. Kevin was alive the skylark used to sing early in the morning and waken the people who had been up late the night before at a wedding or merry

airies like weddings). There was present a young lady whom the fairies wanted to make sneeze three times, as if they could do so and no one said "God bless her" they could take her away. So they tickled her nose three times with hors

arly dead not far from his own door. Our guide enjoined us to be sure, if fairies passed us in the air, to pick some blades of grass and throw them after them, saying "Good luck to you good folk": as he sagely remarked, a civil word never does harm. As more prosaic recollections, Brough told us o

LAR

lands mirrored in purple shadows. But the whole drive to Killarney, and above all the Lakes as they break upon your sight, are beyond description. We saw it all in absolutely glorious weather-possibly rare in those regions, but certainly the Lakes of Killarney impressed me then as more beautiful than either the Scottish or the English Lakes because of their marvellous richness of colour. After fifty years, and travels in many lands, I still imagine that they are only excelled in colour by the coral islands of the Pacific; but of course the Irish Lakes may dwell in my memory as more beautiful than they really are, as I saw them first when I had far fewer standards of comparison. Anyhow, they were like a glorio

'DONO

married a long time, so the apparition did not help him. No O'Donoghue has ever been drowned since the hero's disappearance. We heard two different versions of the cause of the tragedy. Both attributed it to his wife's want of self-control. One related that the husband was in the habit of running about as a hare or a rabbit, and as long as she did not laugh all went well, but when he took this flying leap into the water she burst into a fit of laughter and thereby lost him permanently. Our boy guide's story was more circumstantial and more dramatic. According to him, the O'Donoghue once turned himself into an eel, and knotted himself three times round Ross Castle, where he lived (a super-eel or diminutive castle!). This frightened the lady dreadfully, and he told her that if she "fritted" three times on seeing any of his wonders she would see him no more. Some time after he turned himse

AND

south of Ireland, and I record it as it may have passed away during the past half-century. The driver who took us to the Gap of Dunloe told me that in his mother's time a woman working in the fields put down her baby. While she was out of the way the steward saw the fairies change it for a fairy-baby who would have been a plague to her all her life. So as the child was crying and shrieking he stood over it and declared that he would shoot the mother or anyone else who should come near it, and as no one came to comfort it the fairies could not leave their baby to cry like that, so they brought back the stolen child and took away their own. That steward was such a man of resource that one cannot help wishing that he were alive to deal with the Sinn Feiners of the present day. Another piece of good advice which we received was, if we saw a fairy (known by his red jacket) in a field to keep an eye fixed on him till we came up with him-then to take away his purse, and each time we opened it we should find a s

whose duty it is (or was) to keep clean one of the rooms in the ruin. The old man who showed us over declared that she did not always properly fulfil her task. She is supposed to be the spirit of a cook who fell over the rocks into the water and reappears as a tall woman with red hair. The place of cook must have been a rather trying on

ANT BE

Benadadda. Wishing to pass backwards and forwards, the two agreed that Fin should pave a way of columns and Benadadda should work it. Hence Fingal's Cave-gal or gael meaning "the stranger"-presumably the name was given in compliment to the future guest. But the two champions found the work harder than they had expec

in. "Good day, ma'am

percave you a

am. Is Fi

a few vegetables, but he'll be bac

kindly"-and

d we think he's taything, fer he won't give the fayther

craters," and walked off. Mrs. MacCoul ran after him with an oatcake, but having tasted it he said, "Very good outside, but give the rest to your goodman"; for she had baked the tin girdle inside the cake. This is how I recorded the tale, which I sup

hese tales rather than attempt description of the Caves and other beauties of the coast, as the physical features remain and the legends may be forgotten. The great rocks shaped like columns are called

1849, and I suppose had visited Killarney on the same occasion. Anyhow, memories of her stay still lingered there. I recollect even now the enthusiasm with which a boa