When she had finished, she began to reason on the enormity of the Queen’s and her Minister’s conduct. “My grandfather and Mr. Pitt,” said she, “did something, I think, to keep the Brunswick family on the throne, and yet the grand-daughter of the old king, without hearing the circumstances of my getting into debt, or whether the story is true (for it might be false), sends to deprive me of my pension in a foreign country, where I may remain and starve. If it had not been for my brother Charles and General Barnard, the only two who knew what they were about when the mutiny took place against the Duke of Kent at Gibraltar, she would not be where she is now; for her father would have been killed to a certainty.”
She mused for some time, and then went on. “Perhaps it is better for me that this should have happened: it brings me at once before the world, and let them judge the matter. It would have looked too much like shucklabán” (the Arabic for charlatanism—and Lady Hester was accustomed now to interlard her conversation with many Arabic words) “if I had to go and tell everybody my own story, without a reason for it: but now, since they have chosen to make a bankrupt of me, I shall out with a few things that will make them ashamed. The old king[21] wrote down on the paper, ‘Let her have the greatest pension that can be granted to a woman:’—if he were to rise from his grave, and see me now!”
“Did I ever tell you what he said to Mr. Pitt one day, on Windsor Terrace? The king and all the princes and princesses were walking, and he turned round to him—‘Pitt,’ says he, ‘I have got a new minister in your room.’ Mr. Pitt immediately replied—‘At your majesty’s pleasure; and I shall be happy that your majesty has found one to relieve me from the burden of affairs: a little retirement and fresh air will do me good.’ The king went on, as if finishing his sentence, and without heeding what Mr. Pitt had said—‘a minister better than yourself.’ Mr. Pitt rejoined—‘your majesty’s choice cannot be but a wise one.’ The king resumed—‘I tell you, Pitt, I shall have a better minister than you, and, moreover, I shall have a good general.’ The raillery began to grow puzzling, and Mr. Pitt, with all his courtly manners, was at a loss to know what it meant. So he said, ‘Do, pray, condescend to tell me who this unknown and remarkable person is, that I may pay him the respect due to his great talents and your majesty’s choice.’ The king relieved him from his embarrassment: ‘There is my new minister,’ said he, pointing to me, whom Mr. Pitt had under his arm. ‘There is not a man in my kingdom who is a better politician than Lady Hester: and’ (assuming an air of seriousness, which his manner made quite touching) ‘I have great pleasure in saying, too, there is not a woman who adorns her sex more than she does. And, let me say, Mr. Pitt, you have not reason to be proud that you are a minister, for there have been many before you, and will be many after you; but you have reason to be proud of her, who unites everything that is great in man and woman.’ Doctor, the tears came in Mr. Pitt’s eyes, and how the court ladies did bite their lips!
“The what what what? certainly did the old king harm, in point of dignity, when no subject of conversation interested him; but he sometimes was more serious, and could assume a manner and a tone befitting a king. A peer, who had never known the Duke of Cambridge, told me that, on the return of the Duke from the continent, the king presented him to H.R.H. with this short but fine compliment—‘This is my son, my lord, who has his first fault to commit.’ How fond the king was of him and the Duke of York![22] He was a fine man, and with a person so strong, that I don’t think there was another like him in England.
“The king liked me personally. I recollect once, at court, when we were standing, as he passed round the circle, he stopped at Harriet E., my cousin, and said to her something about her dress; and then, coming to me, he remarked how well I dressed myself, and told me to teach H. E. a little. She was so vexed that she cried: but it was her own fault; for, with a good person, good fortune, and fine dresses, she never could get a husband.
“I suppose the Queen is a good-natured German girl. Did you ever see Lord M——? he has got fine eyes; and, if he is fattened out, with a sleek skin and good complexion, he may be a man like Sir Gilbert, and about his age: such men are sometimes still loveable. He used to be a prodigious favourite with some of the handsomest women in London: so that his friends used to say, when he married Lady M., though she was not a bad-looking woman—‘Poor fellow! what will he do? you know he can’t like her long?’ I recollect seeing her and Lady —— sitting at a party on the top of the stairs, like two figures in a pocket-book—both little creatures; those that you call delicate.
“Lord M. is a very handsome man. His eyes are beautiful, and he has spent forty years of his life in endeavouring to please the women. I recollect, the last time I saw him, he was behind Sir G. H., as they came into Lord Stafford’s. I had dined there, en famille, and there was a party in the evening. I was in the second room, and the Prince was standing by the fire, showing his behind, as usual, to everybody, and there was Lord M., always looking about after somebody whom he did not find perhaps for three or four hours. They say he is filled out: he was slim when I knew him. Doctor, he is a very handsome man; but he must be sixty, or more.”
Ever and anon, Lady Hester Stanhope would revert to Colonel Campbell’s letter. “Yes,” she said; “if he feels regret at being obliged to write it, I will say to him, ‘No doubt, he feels pain at having to do with one of the most blackguard transactions I ever knew;’ but I dare say he feels nothing of the sort.” Then, after a pause, she added, “I think I shall take the bull by the horns, and send a letter to the Queen. If getting into debt is such a crime, I should like to know how the Duchess of K—— got into debt.
“Doctor, would you believe it? a welly” (in Arabic, a sort of soothsayer) “foretold what has happened to me now so exactly, that I must relate the story to you. He was sitting in a coffee-house one day, with one of my people, and had taken from the waiter a cup of coffee; but, in carrying it to his mouth, to drink it, his hand stopped midway, and his eyes were fixed for some time on the surface of the liquor in silence. ‘Your coffee will get cold,’ said my servant:—the welly heaved a deep sigh. ‘Alas!’ said he, ‘I was reading on the surface of that cup of coffee the fate of your lady, the meleky. There will rise up evil tongues against her, and a sovereign will try to put her down; but the voice of the people will cry aloud, and nations will assemble to protect her.’ Now, doctor,” said Lady Hester, “does not that mean just what has happened? Is not the Queen trying to put me down, and going to deprive me of my pension?—and you will see, when I have written my letter, how many persons will turn on my side. But isn’t it very extraordinary how that man in a coffee-house knew what was going to happen?—yet so it is: they have secret communications with spirits. A glass, or something, is held before their eyes, which nobody else can see; and, whether they can read and write or not, they see future events painted on it.”
January 30, 1838.—Lady Hester was still very ill; the convulsive attacks returning now regularly every day. She began to be sensible that fits of passion, however slight, did her injury, and she was more calm for a continuation than I had ever known her to remain since I had been here. But a fresh occurrence, trifling in its nature, although she gave much importance to it, excited her anger considerably to-day, and did her mischief in proportion. She had reason to suspect that her secretary had been endeavouring to ascertain whether she was consumptive, and how long she was likely to live. To dispel such a suspicion, she made a great effort, got up, and went and sat in the garden. Before she left her room, her wailings were for some moments heart-rending. “Oh, God, have mercy! oh, God, have mercy!” she cried; “only keep those beasts away: who is to take care of me, surrounded as I am with those horrible servants?—only take care they don’t rob me.”