Fifty-One Years of Victorian Life

olent sides in the struggle. Naturally we were quite ignorant of the depths of cruelty latent in the German nature, or of the

ts for the sick and wounded on both sides-medical stores which I fancy would have been to a large extent condemned wholesale if submitted to the medical authorities during the late War, but which I am sure were very useful and acceptable in '70-71. As is well known, that winter was an exceptionally hard one-we had fine times

ic headlines: "Paris in Flames-Burning of the Tuileries," and so on. I passed the morning in floods of tears because they were "burning histo

as a great character. A fine, athletic man, successful in every walk of life which he entered, a good horseman, cricketer and actor, he did well at the Bar and seemed to know practically everybody and to be friends with them all. He was blessed with supreme se

ak to me in this way." Ups and downs followed, including a consultation with planchette, which quite properly wavered and shook and spoke with an uncertain voice. This was all in 1870. Some time in January we acted a small farce which I had perpetrated called The Detective. When it was over my uncle informed me that failing his marriage

Y KE

one thing the wife took up a violent anti-slavery attitude-a little awkward when (as she must have known when she married) the husband owned a cotton plantation worked by slave labour. However, the two daughters remained on friendly terms with both parents, and Mr. Butler died during-or shortly after-the war. One daughter married a Dr. Wister and became the mother of the well-known author, Owen Wister

ife in a dark cloud cast by the late War-in which he lost his only two s

ise, struck the fancy of a girl in her first two seasons. Politically the Irish Church Bill seems to have been the burning question. We went to part of the Debate on the Second Reading (June 17th, 1869) in the House, and I not only give a summary of Lord Salisbury's speech, but when t

ASHIONED

a window, separated from the rest of the room by doors so that it looked like a chapel. We had dinner between six and seven, a real Christmas dinner with nearly twenty people-great-uncle Charles, great-aunt Martha, great-aunt Sophy, George Willes, Willie Willes, Stany Waller, the clergyman Mr. Bruce, Aunt Polly herself beaming at the head of the table, turkey and beef stuck with holly, and the plum-pudding brought in, in flaming brandy.... Almost everyone seemed related to all the rest. A few more people came after dinner while we were in the drawing-room and the dining-room was being cleared for dancing. Two fiddlers and a blowing-man were then perched on a table in a corner and dancing began-quadrilles, lancers, jig, reel, and valse carried on with the utmost energy, by Aunt Polly in particular, till abou

yes and auburn hair and was exceedingly clever and amusing. Her family naturally expected her to make a marriage which would give all her qualities a wide sphere. However, at the mature age of eleven she won the affections of Lord Sefton's younger brother and he never fluctuated in his choice. I do not know at what exact moment he disclosed his admiration, but he contrived to make the young lady as mu

ATRIMON

and Lady Villiers, lived not far off at Upton House, which then belonged to Sarah, Lady Jersey. While my brother and I were playing outside, a boy with long fair hair looked out of the inn and smilingly lashed his whip at

adies left the dining-room I was laughed at for having monopolised his attention when he was intended to talk to his partner. He w

d were either engaged or married before twelve months were over, though none of them to the men present. The three girls were Gwendolen (then called Gwendaline) Howard, who married Lord Bute; Maria Fox-Strangways, marr

o get slight congestion of the lungs and soon after went to spend some time with my kind uncle and aunt Sir Michael and Lady Octavia Sh

HILL

ill. Another part was bought-I do not know when-by Mr. Alfred Morrison. When my grandfather Westminster died in the autumn of 1869 he left the reversion of Fonthill Abbey to Uncle Michael. Perhaps he thought that the Shaw-Stewarts should have an English as well as a Scottish home. However that might have been,

opened into another, as my grandfather objected to that arrangement-dressing-rooms, for ins

e hill to look at his tower, but one morning when he ascended as usual he saw it no longer-it had fallen down. It used to be implied that this was a judgment on the Sunday labour. Also we were told that he made the still-existing avenues and drove about them at night, which gave him an uncanny reputation. Prob

se which he had built on his part of the property. Many of the other treasures passed, as is well known, into the poss

rs. He was a distinctly literary man, and was reported to have married his wife because he found her reading a Greek grammar in the train. Whether or no that was the original attraction I cannot say, but she proved a delightful

life. Hughie and I shared a taste for drawing and painting of very amateur descrip

their marriage. We went via Harwich to Rotterdam and thence for a short tour in Holland and Belgium with which I was highly delighted. The quaint canals, the cows with table-cloths

elf. Ghent and Bruges were a revelation; and I was much entertained by the guide who took us up the Belfry of St. Nicholas (I think it was) at the f

nor mount

p, nor str

ere with us; nor

ves, risings, n

rests augh

ield flourishes

ights bl

st what he was doing with the children, but all the good man could say was that "St. Nicolas aimait beaucoup les enfants," quite ign

to each other. Later on, however, my father told my mother that he had met Lord Jersey and would like him asked to dinner. The families had been friends in years gone by, but had drifted apart. My mother agreed, sent the invitation, which was accepted. In arranging how the guests were

nce or twice in Portman Square. He did not dance at balls, but though "sitting-out" was not then the fashion we somehow found a pretext-such as looking at illuminations-for little walks. Then Lord Tollema

AGE

covering that we were about to leave London Jersey took his courage in tw

cheerfully answered, "Oh yes"-and she looked as if she were going to cry. My aunt said afterwards that any marriage reminded her of her own unfortunate venture. Aunt Fanny was much amused when I confided to her that finding immediate slumber difficult the first night of my engagement I secured it by attempting the longest sum which I could find in Colenso's arithmetic. My brothers and sisters accepted the news with mixed feelings-but poor little Cordelia, who had been left at Stoneleigh, was quite upset. I wrote her a letter in which I said that Lord J

most kindly. As for his sisters, Lady Julia Wombwell and Lady Caroline

TO LOR

ment and I shared with my brother addresses and presentations. As my mother said-it could never happen to her again to have a son come of age and a daughter married in the same month. She was to have launched the Lady Leigh lifeboat in the middle of September, but my sister was commissioned to do it instead-and we returned to Portman Square for final preparations. Like most girls under similar circumstances I lived in a whirl during those days, and my only clear recollections are signing Settlements (in happy ignorance of their contents) and weeping bitterly the night befo

my grandmother lent us. So ended a happy girlhood-so began a happy married life. I do not say that either was free from sha

not think that because you have seen things done in a particular way that is the only right one." I cannot resist endi

rling child, cling to the good that is in you. Never be false to yourself. I see your little boat starting out on the sea of life, anxiously and tremblingly-for I know full well however smooth the water may be now there must come rocks in ever