“No, doctor, Bouverie was right: I liked the country. At the back of the inn, on Sevenoaks common, stood a house, which, for a residence for myself, I should prefer to any one I have ever yet seen. It was a perfectly elegant, light, and commodious building, with an oval drawing-room, and two boudoirs in the corners, with a window to each on the conservatory. When I visited there, it was inhabited by three old maids, one of whom was my friend. What good ale and nice luncheons I have had there many a time! What good cheese, what excellent apples and pears, and what rounds of boiled beef?”
The next day these personal recollections were renewed.
“I remember, when Colonel Shadwell commanded the district, that, one day, in a pelting shower of rain, he was riding up Madamscourt Hill, as I was crossing at the bottom, going home towards Chevening with my handsome groom, Tom, a boy who was the natural son of a baronet. I saw Colonel Shadwell’s groom’s horse about a couple of hundred yards from me, and, struck with its beauty, I turned up the hill, resolving to pass them, and get a look at it. I accordingly quickened my pace, and, in going by, gave a good look at the horse, then at the groom, then at the master, who was on a sorry nag. The colonel eyed me as I passed; and I, taking advantage of a low part in the hedge, put my horse to it, leaped over, and disappeared in an instant. The colonel found out who I was, and afterwards made such a fuss at the mess about my equestrian powers, that nothing could be like it. I was the toast there every day.
“Nobody ever saw much of me until Lord Romney’s review. I was obliged to play a trick on my father to get there. I pretended, the day before, that I wanted to pay a visit to the Miss Crumps” (or some such name), “and then went from their house to Lord Romney’s. Though all the gentry of Kent were there, my father never knew, or was supposed not to have known, that I had been there. The king took great notice of me. I dined with him—that is, what was called dining with him, but at an adjoining table. Lord and Lady Romney served the king and queen, and gentlemen waited on us: Upton changed my plate, and he did it very well. Doctor, dining with royalty, as Lord Melbourne does now, was not so common formerly; I never dined with the king but twice—once at Lord Romney’s at an adjoining table, and once afterwards at his own table: oh! what wry faces there were among some of the courtiers! Mr. Pitt was very much pleased at the reception I met with: the king took great notice of me, and, I believe, always after liked me personally. Whenever I was talking to the dukes, he was sure to come towards us. ‘Where is she?’ he would cry; ‘where is she? I hear them laugh, and where they are laughing I must go too:’ then, as he came nearer, he would observe, ‘if you have anything to finish, I won’t come yet—I’ll come in a quarter of an hour.’ When he was going away from Lord Romney’s, he wanted to put me bodkin between himself and the queen; and when the queen had got into the carriage, he said to her, ‘My dear, Lady Hester is going to ride bodkin with us; I am going to take her away from Democracy Hall:’ but the old queen observed, in rather a prim manner, that I ‘had not got my maid with me, and that it would be inconvenient for me to go at such a short notice:’ so I remained.
“It was at that review that I was talking to some officers, and something led to my saying, ‘I can’t bear men who are governed by their wives, as Sir A. H*** is; a woman of sense, even if she did govern her husband, would not let it be seen: it is odious, in my opinion:’ and I went on in this strain, whilst poor Sir A. himself, whom I did not know, but had only heard spoken of, was standing by all the time. I saw a dreadful consternation in the bystanders, but I went on. At last some one—taking commiseration on him, I suppose—said, ‘Lady Hester, will you allow me to introduce Sir A. H*** to you, who is desirous of making your acquaintance.’ Sir A. very politely thanked me for the advice I had given him; and I answered something about the regard my brother had for him, and there the matter ended.
“When first I went to live with Mr. Pitt, one day he and I were taking a walk in the park, when we were met by Lord Guildford, having Lady —— and Lady ——, two old demireps, under his arm. Mr. Pitt and I passed them, and Mr. Pitt pulled off his hat: Lord G. turned his head away, without acknowledging his bow. The fact was, he thought Mr. Pitt was escorting some mistress he had got. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘there goes Falstaff with the merry wives of Windsor.’ ‘Yes,’ rejoined Mr. Pitt, ‘and I think, whatever he may take you to be, he need not be so prim, with those two painted and patched ladies under his arm.’
“The same thing happened with Lord A.; and, when Mr. Pitt soon after came into office, Lord A. called on Mr. Pitt, who, being busy, sent him to me. Lord A. began with a vast variety of compliments about ancient attachments, and his recollection, when a boy, of having played with me: so I cut him short by telling him his memory then must have sadly failed him the other day, when he passed me and Mr. Pitt in his curricle with Lady ——. After many, ‘Really, I supposed,’ and ‘Upon my honours,—Sense of propriety on account of Lady ——, and not knowing who I was’—I laughed heartily at him, and he went away. When he was gone, Mr. Pitt came to me, and said, ‘I don’t often ask questions about your visitors, but I should really like to know what excuse Lord A. could offer for his primosity[2] to us, when he was riding with such a Jezebel as Lady ——.’
“Yet it might have been very natural for Mr. Pitt to do so.[3] How many people used to come and ask me impertinent questions, in order to get out his state secrets: but I very soon set them down. ‘What, you are come to give me a lesson of impertinence,’ I used to say, laughing in their faces. One day, one of them, of rather a first-rate class, began with—‘Now, my dear Lady Hester, you know our long friendship, and the esteem I have for you—now do just tell me, who is to go out ambassador to Russia?’ So I was resolved to try him; and, with a very serious air, I said, ‘Why, if I had to choose, there are only three persons whom I think fit for the situation—Mr. Tom Grenville, Lord Malmesbury,’ and I forget who was the third: ‘but you know,’ I added, ‘Lord Malmesbury’s health will not allow him to go to so cold a climate, and Mr., the other, is something and something, so that he is out of the question.’ Next morning, doctor, there appeared in ‘The Oracle,’ a paper, observe, that Mr. Pitt never read—‘We understand that Lord M. and Mr. T. G. are selected as the two persons best qualified for the embassy to Russia: but, owing to his lordship’s ill health, the choice will most likely fall on Mr. T. G.’
“I was highly amused the following days, to hear the congratulations that were paid to Mr. Grenville: but, when the real choice came to be known, which was neither one nor the other, oh! how black the inquisitive friend of mine looked; and what reproaches he made me for having, as he called it, deceived him! But I did not deceive him: I only told him what was true, that, if I had the choice, I should choose such and such persons.
“There are, necessarily, hundreds of reasons for ministers’ actions, that people in general know nothing about. When the Marquis —— was sent to India it was on condition that he did not take —— —— with him: for Mr. Pitt said, ‘It is all very well if he chooses to go alone, but he shan’t take —— —— with him; for—who knows?—she may be, all the time, carrying on intrigues with the French government, and that would not suit my purpose.’