Miss Eden to Lady Campbell.
GROSVENOR STREET.
[1837.]
...I do not really care about my position in this short life, but I like to be actually posished, don’t you? I believe we shall end by remaining at Greenwich, influenced chiefly by the enormous price of villas.
I am sorry Lady Lansdowne writes in bad spirits, for barring the melancholy circumstances attending Kerry’s marriage, I should not have thought this a troublesome year to her. The Wilt himself seems full of attention to her, and if she hates London society, this is a charming year, as such an article does not exist. You have no idea how odd it is. Except herself, no person ever thinks of giving either ball or party. I own I think it quite delightful; no hot rooms, no trouble of any sort, and a great economy of gowns and bores.
We thought much of the Unions[401] for ten days, but they are going by. There never was such luck as the Tailors starting by such ridiculous demands. The middle classes, even down to servants, took against them, and there seems to be very little doubt that, in a very few weeks, they will be totally beat and the whole Union fund exhausted.
It is rather amusing to see them wandering about the Parks, quite astonished at the green leaves and blackbirds. There were about fifty of them playing at leap-frog the other morning. Only conceive the luxury of going home after that unusual exercise, and after beating their wives for making such good waistcoats, sitting down cross-legged to rest themselves. They cost the Union £10,000 the first week, and £8,000 the second, and as the whole amount of the Union fund is £60,000, it is easy to guess how long it may last. It will end in frightful distress. The great tailors are getting foreigners over, and employing women with great success.
I have been in a state of agitation with a touch of bother added to it, which would have made my letters very hummocky. That giving up Greenwich was nearly the death of me, and our glorious promotion[402] was inflicted on us on a particular Thursday, Epsom race day, which George and I had set apart for a holiday, and a tête-à-tête dinner, and a whole afternoon in that good little garden. We went all the same; but, as for gardening, what was the good of cultivating flowers for other people’s nosegays! So there I sat under the verandah crying. What else could be done, with the roses all out, and the sweetpeas, and our orange-trees, and the whole garden looking perfectly lovely; and George was nearly as low as I was.
And then we had two or three days of bother for our future lives, because, though I now never mean to talk politics, and to hear as little of them as may be, yet I suppose there is no harm in imagining just the bare possibility that the Government may not last for ever.[403] However, he is assured now of a retiring pension. If he chooses to play at the game of politics, he must take his chance of winning or losing; and moreover, this would not have been a time for separating from poor Lansdowne, who has behaved beautifully all through these troubles. So now we are fairly in for it, and after the first troubles are over, I daresay it will do very well. It is the kind of office he likes, and he is, of course, flattered with the offer of it, and Lord Grey has been uncommonly kind to him.
We went on Tuesday to see the Admiralty, and I believe we shall be moving into it the end of next week. It is a vast undertaking. The kitchen is about the size of Grosvenor Square, and takes a cook and three kitchen-maids to keep it going, but the rest of the establishment is in proportion, which is distressing, as I look on every additional servant as an added calamity. I will trouble you with the idea of this house—your old acquaintance—with a bill stuck in its window, “To be sold,”—rather shocking! Looks ungrateful after we have passed our best days in it; but still I cannot fancy being much attached to any London house, so I do not mind about this. Our idea is to get a villa sufficiently small to be adapted to our income, whenever the day of dignified retirement comes; to move our plants and books to it, and gradually to furnish it, and then to make it our only home for the rest of our lives. I should like that better than any other life. Ever your affectionate
E. E.