“Just before the French revolution broke out, the ambassador from Paris to the English Court was the Comte d’Adhémar. That nobleman had some influence on my fate as far as regarded my wish to go abroad, which, however, I was not able to gratify until many years afterwards. I was but seven or eight years old when I saw him; and when he came by invitation to pay a visit to my papa at Chevening, there was such a fuss with the fine footmen with feathers in their hats, and the count’s bows and French manners, and I know not what, that, a short time afterwards, when I was sent to Hastings with the governess and my sisters, nothing would satisfy me but I must go and see what sort of a place France was. So I got into a boat one day unobserved, that was floating close to the beach, let loose the rope myself, and off I went. Yes, doctor, I literally pushed a boat off, and meant to go, as I thought, to France. Did you ever hear of such a mad scheme?
“But I was tired of all those around me, who, to all my questions, invariably answered, ‘My dear, that is not proper for you to know,—or, you must not talk about such things until you get older; and the like. So I held my tongue, but I made up for it, by treasuring up everything I heard and saw. Isn’t it extraordinary that I should have such a memory? I can recall every circumstance that ever occurred to me during my life—everything worth retaining, that I wished to remember. I could tell what people said, how they sat, the colour of their hair, of their eyes, and all about them, at any time, for the last forty years and more. At Hastings, for example, I can tell the name of the two smugglers, Tate and Everett, who attended at the bathing-machine, and the name of the apothecary, Dr. Satterly, although I have never heard a word about those persons from that day to this.
“How well I recollect what I was made to suffer when I was young! and that’s the reason why I have sworn eternal warfare against Swiss and French governesses. Nature forms us in a certain manner, both inwardly and outwardly, and it is in vain to attempt to alter it. One governess at Chevening had our backs pinched in by boards, that were drawn tight with all the force the maid could use; and, as for me, they would have squeezed me to the size of a puny miss—a thing impossible! My instep, by nature so high, that a little kitten could walk under the sole of my foot, they used to bend down in order to flatten it, although that is one of the things that shows my high breeding.
“Nature, doctor, makes us one way, and man is always trying to fashion us another. Why, there was Mahon, when he was eight or nine years old, that never could be taught to understand how two and two make four. If he was asked, he would say, four and four make three, or ten, or something: he was shown with money, and with beans, and in every possible way, but all to no purpose. The fact was, that that particular faculty was not yet developed: but now, there is no better calculator anywhere. The most difficult sums he will do on his fingers; and he is besides a very great mathematician. There was a son of Lord Darnley’s, a little boy, who was only big enough to lie under the table, or play on the sofa, and yet he could make calculations with I don’t know how many figures—things that they have to do in the Treasury. Now, if that boy had gone on in the same way, he would by this time have been Chancellor of the Exchequer. But I hear nothing of him, and I don’t know what has become of him; so I suppose he has not turned out anything extraordinary.
“But nature was entirely out of the question with us: we were left to the governesses. Lady Stanhope got up at ten o’clock, went out, and then returned to be dressed, if in London, by the hair-dresser; and there were only two in London, both of them Frenchmen, who could dress her. Then she went out to dinner, and from dinner to the Opera, and from the Opera to parties, seldom returning until just before daylight. Lord Stanhope was engaged in his philosophical pursuits: and thus we children saw neither the one nor the other. Lucy used to say that, if she had met her step-mother in the streets, she should not have known her. Why, my father once followed to our own door in London a woman who happened to drop her glove, which he picked up. It was our governess; but, as he had never seen her in the house, he did not know her in the street.
“He slept with twelve blankets on his bed, with no nightcap, and his window open: how you would have laughed had you seen him! He used to get out of bed, and put on a thin dressing-gown, with a pair of silk breeches that he had worn overnight, with slippers, and no stockings: and then he would sit in a part of the room which had no carpet, and take his tea with a bit of brown bread.
“He married two wives; the first a Pitt, the second a Grenville; so that I am in two ways related to the Grenvilles.”
Lady Hester continued: “As I grew up, Lady Stanhope used to chuck me under the chin, and cry, ‘Why the kurl (girl) is like a soap ball; one can’t pinch her cheek:’ and I really used to think there was something very strange about me. Soon after Horne Tooke took notice of me, and pronounced flatteringly on my talents. And when Mr. Pitt followed, and kindly said, ‘Why I believe there is nothing to find fault with, either in her looks or her understanding,’ I began to know myself. Mr. Elliott, (who married Miss Pitt) used to say to me, dear man! in his bontonné manner, ‘You must not be surprised, my love, if you make a great noise in the world.’
“Sir Sydney Smith said of me, after he had known me fifteen years, and when my looks were much changed by illness, ‘When I see you now, I recall to my recollection what you were when you first came out. You entered the room in your pale shirt, exciting our admiration by your magnificent and majestic figure. The roses and lilies were blended in your face, and the ineffable smiles of your countenance diffused happiness around you.’
“The Duke of Cumberland used to say to me—‘You and Amelia (Princess Amelia) are two of the most spanking wenches I ever saw; but, if (alluding to my ill-health) you go on in this way, I do not know what the devil you will make of it.’”