It chanced that evening that among the guests, both gentlemen and ladies, there were three or four more than commonly tall, and we therefore imagined the representation of a scene in the land of Brobdingnag, each performer wearing one of the pantomime heads. To me the smallest was allotted, wearing as it did a simpering expression of innocence, bordering on imbecility, as in a juvenile costume I assumed the character of the youthful Glumdalclitch.

The eldest hope of the house, then a lovely little boy, dressed in a sailor’s suit, was supposed (by a stretch of imagination) to have been washed on shore, as the diminutive Gulliver. He was presented to me by my gigantic parent as a plaything. Does His Excellency, the Governor-General of India,[[60]] remember that evening when he cast upon me the most captivating glances of anger and indignation, while I knelt down to caress and admire my newly-acquired flotsam? His anger has long passed away, but not my admiration, for in the little Gulliver of those days I honour the independent Politician, and the high-minded statesman of these.

[60]. Henry, present Marquess of Lansdowne, was Governor-General of India from 1888 to 1894.

CHAPTER XXVII
ALTHORP

In speaking of Althorp, the home of my dear cousin, Lord Spencer, I place no dates at head of the chapter, as my constant visits there embraced the period of many years, and I am grateful to say that, even at this present writing, I am still welcome in that resort of former happy days. It is a place of so much interest as to claim some description from my pen. Althorp has been the home of the Spencer family since the reign of Henry VIII. The Library consisted of seven rooms, the very walls composed of books, 50,000 in number, one room containing the rarest editions—Block books, the first book ever printed in movable type, the largest collection of Caxton and his pupils, and the early Venetian printers, the famous Boccaccio, which produced at the sale of the Duke of Roxburgh, in 1812, the largest sum which had ever been paid for a single book up to that date. The competitors for this prize were the Marquess of Blandford, and George John, second Earl Spencer; it was knocked down to the former for £2,260, but being in difficulties some time afterwards, he was fain to sell it to the owner of the Althorp Library for the comparative small sum of £750. The mention of this volume reminds me of an incident which occurred to me at Ferrara while travelling with my dear mother, when we paid a visit to the Public Library in that town. The custode showed me a rare edition of Ariosto’s “Orlando Furioso,” telling me at the same time that there was a duplicate in the possession of an English Count; and I can well recall the pride with which I informed him that that Count was my cousin. During the remainder of my visit, which lasted another ten minutes, I was treated with increased respect as the kinswoman of the Count in question.

But to return to Althorp. The staircase occupying the centre of the house, originally an open court, is supposed to have been enclosed by the first Countess of Sunderland (Sacharissa). The avenues were planted by Le Notre, who laid out Versailles for Louis XIV. The heronry was planted in the year of the Spanish Armada, as is shown by the date carved on the memorial stone. From the heronry Whyte Melville, in his charming novel of “Holmby House” (Holdenby), describes the hawking party galloping across the park, past the Hawking Tower, a small lodge with open galleries, in which the ladies sat to observe the sport. This lodge, now modernised in aspect and inhabited by the keeper, was built to commemorate the visit of Queen Anne of Denmark and her son on their road from Scotland, when Ben Jonson’s masque was played, the poet being an intimate friend of the Lord Spencer of the time.

ALTHORP.

SARAH, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH