LONDON, Thursday, February 4th, 1813.
Marianne and my Mother went to attend the Drawing Room, being the Queen's nominal Birthday. I then took a long walk, first to Tottenham Court Road to see the preparations for the Regent's Park, then to Bond St. and St James's St. to see the Equipages, etc. It seemed a very full Drawing Room and some magnificent Equipages, among which the Duchess of Montrose's was the finest. It consisted of 12 servants in most superb liveries, and three sedans, in one of which was the Duchess, and, in the two others, two of her daughters, Lady Charlotte and Lady Lucy, both very pretty. I returned home at a quarter to six, and my mother was not then come home. At last she arrived, complaining much of the intolerable squeeze which had never been surpassed but by the first Drawing Room after the King's recovery. Mrs Beaumont came to us in the evening.
Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope. February 20th, 1813.
Mrs Beaumont has just presented Diana, who is, as you may believe,
very happy. The sons have taken their Degrees.
Lord Kinnaird has contrived to get into such difficulties that his House, Pictures, and everything are to be sold. I went over the House yesterday and felt every step as if the ghost of his father could not fail to appear. There never was a fortune tumbled down in such a moment. The Pictures and Bronzes very fine. There is one of the best of Titian's Pictures; but though fine, I do not think it is a pleasing collection.
I heard an amusing story the other day against Douglas Kinnaird. [6] As you know, he is a wonderful linguist, but Werry, who is now secretary to Lord Cathcart, is yet finer. The latter boasts that he met Douglas at a dinner-party in London once, and, for a wager, entered the lists against him, and beat him in every language in Europe. But Werry admits that, in order to accomplish this, he never ceased talking from the moment he sat down till eleven o'clock at night! He says he felt—"Si je crache, je perds!"
I sent you a letter from Knox, he has dined here once, but he is now a very bad neighbour. The Ackloms are in Lower Grosvenor Street. Esther looks well, but is grown thin, the death of her father in a moment was a great shock to her. Everything was settled for her marriage, which is delayed till she is out of black gloves. I see a great deal of Mr Maddocks who has shown them great attention. It is said that she has £10,000 a year.
Esther Acklom had not been long in filling the place vacated by Mr Knox. In 1813 she again became engaged, this time to Mr J. Maddocks, who was said to possess an income of £4,000 per annum. The same year, however, her father died suddenly, leaving her £10,000 a year and all his goods, while to his wife he left an annual income of £16,000. Miss Acklom, therefore, not only found herself a substantial heiress, but with the prospect of inheriting a yet larger fortune from her mother. A friend, Mrs Calvert, writing at this date, shrewdly remarks—"It is now supposed that Esther will jilt Mr Maddocks," but Mrs Stanhope does not seem to have anticipated this result, when, on March 3rd, she wrote various items of news to her son:—
Walter Scott has published a new book called "Rokeby," dedicated to Mr Morritt. It is not so much admired as his others, though more than it was at first. His works are always the more admired the more they are read. Your old acquaintance, Mr Inglis, has balls frequently, ending at Twelve. All Lord Kinnaird's pictures, wines, and house, are selling. His youngest brother has been at the point of death at Edinburgh, but is recovering.
I went in Mr Maddocks Tilbury [7] yesterday; (you see my love for a gig still continues). Esther says she would not have trusted herself with him. They are not to be married till she is out of black gloves.