LADY LONDONDERRY
As a girl I was much at Lady Jersey’s house in Berkeley Square, having been a great friend of her daughter’s. The great lady of her day, she wielded considerable social influence, which she used, whenever possible, in favour of Lord Beaconsfield, then plain Benjamin Disraeli, and not particularly favoured by society in general. As a matter of fact, Mr. Disraeli had rendered Lady Jersey an important service, having taken great trouble to assist one of her relatives under peculiarly delicate circumstances. This she never forgot, and did everything she could to help him. Another great lady who also lent her aid to the young politician was Lady Londonderry, who used to hold a sort of court at Holdernesse House (now Londonderry House). Here she would receive her guests sitting on a daïs under a canopy. To me she was always most affable, but I could not with truth say that, as a general rule, she took much trouble to entertain those who came to her receptions; indeed, she exhibited great hauteur, and sometimes took little notice of them. Some great ladies in old days (but not the very clever ones) gave themselves great airs; small wonder, when they were brought up to think they were the very salt of the earth. One there was whose behaviour at her parties was so frigidly condescending that people used to ask one another, “Are you going to see Lady —— insult her guests to-night?”
Nevertheless, as I have said, Lady Londonderry joined with Lady Jersey in doing everything possible to assist and push on Benjamin Disraeli, with the result that their efforts were eventually crowned with success. I remember Lady Chesterfield (who, after Lady Beaconsfield’s death, was a devoted friend of the great statesman; indeed he wanted, and I think actually proposed, to marry her) saying to me how strange that she should not have known Dizzy in old days. But it was not so strange after all; for at the beginning of his career there were many who fought shy of him, and later on certain people disliked his wife. Lady Beaconsfield was, however, a dear friend of mine, and I was much grieved at her death. Her handwriting was, I think I may say, the worst I ever saw, so different from her husband’s, which was firm, clear, and easy to read. Nevertheless, she wrote bright little letters, which gave one excitement as well as pleasure, for to discover their meaning was much like deciphering a cuneiform inscription. The following is a specimen of her style:—
Grosvenor Gate,
May 9, 1859.
My Dear Dorothy—I have a portrait same as yours. Under mine is written in old English letters: “Forti nihil difficile”—nothing difficult to the brave—which I put because it is Dizzy’s motto, and I think he has earned it. At the back of the portrait—“Dizzy, 1859.” It stands on my table in one of the new sort of frames. He will write his name on the portrait if you prefer it. Town is going to be very gay, at least the Palace. Comte Persigny comes here as Ambassador very soon, to our party’s great dismay. Duc de Malakoff very sorry to go—kiss’d Lord Malmesbury on each cheek! When are you coming to town? Dizzy begs his love to you, and kind regards to Mr. Nevill.—Affectionately yours,
Mary Anne Disraeli.
She wrote to me frequently with regard to politics, in which she took great interest:
Grosvenor Gate,
February 15, 1860.