the gallery at Chesney Wold in Bleak House, I found Mrs. Meynell Ingram
and Freddie Wood[155] sitting. It was like arriving at a bivouac in the
desert; the light from the fire and the lamps gleamed on a little
tea-table and a few chairs round it, all beyond was lost in the dark
immensity.... Soon other guests arrived--Judge Denman, come for the
assizes at Leeds, and his marshal, young Ottaway, the cricketer; Admiral
Duncombe, the High Sheriff; Mr. Glyn, Vicar of Beverley, the chaplain;
and Sir Frederick Grey and his wife ‘Barberina.’ Some of the pictures
are very fine--a portrait by Titian, several Vandykes, Reynolds’
‘Shepherd Boy,” and some fine Reynolds portraits of Lord and Lady
Irvine, the former possessors of this place--the Templar’s Stow of
‘Ivanhoe.’ They left it to their five daughters in turn. The eldest was
Lady Hertford, and, if she had two sons, it was to go to the second,
but she had only one; the second daughter was Lady Alexander Gordon, who
was childless; the third was Mrs. Meynell, mother-in-law of the present
possessor.”
* * * * *
“_Dec, 7._--Deep snow all to-day and a furious wind. But yesterday we
reached Leeds for the assize sermon from the Sheriff’s chaplain, Mr.
Glyn,[156] a really magnificent sermon on ‘What is thy life?’ The music
also was very fine, and the great church filled with people.
“This house, where Lord Darnley was born, and whence Lord Strafford
issued his summons to the Cavaliers to meet in defence of the King, is
very curious. In point of amusement, the Judge is the principal feature
of the present party, and how he does trample on his High Sheriff! He
coolly said _to_ him yesterday that he considered a High Sheriff as
‘dust under his feet;’ and he narrated _before_ him a story of one of
his brother judges, who, when his High Sheriff had left his hat in
court, not only would not let him go to fetch it, but would not wait
while his servants fetched it, and ordered him instantly to take him
back to his lodgings without his hat! In court, Judge Denman was annoyed
by some stone-breakers outside the window, and was told it would cost a
matter of _£_40 to have them stopped. ‘Stop the noise instantly,’ he
said; and the Mayor had to pay for it out of his own pocket. Yesterday,
when the snow was so deep, the High Sheriff timidly suggested that they
might be snowed up. ‘That is impossible,’ said the Judge; ‘whatever the
difficulties, Mr. High Sheriff, you are bound to see me conveyed to
Leeds by the opening of the court, if the whole of Leeds is summoned out
to cut a way for me.’
“Lord Strafford was here because he borrowed the house of Sir Arthur
Ingram as the largest to which to summon the Cavaliers. Sir Arthur was
rewarded by Charles II. for his devotion to the Stuarts by being made
Viscount Irvine.”
* * * * *
“_Ripley Castle, Dec. 12._--In this pleasant hospitable house I greatly
miss the gentle presence of the beloved Lady Ingilby, who was so long a
kind and warm-hearted friend; but it is pleasant to find her cordial
welcome still living in that of her son, Sir Henry, and her pretty
graceful daughter-in-law, who is a daughter of Lord Marjoribanks of
Ladykirk.
“I found here Count and Countess Bathyany, people I was very glad to
see. They retain their old castle in Hungary, where they are magnates of
the first rank, but for some years they have lived chiefly in England,
at Eaglehurst on the Solent, and receive there during the yachting
season. The Countess has remains of great beauty and is wonderfully
agreeable. As I sat by her at dinner, she talked much of Lady William
Russell,[157] and told me the story of Lord Moira’s appearance, which
she had heard from her own lips.
“Lady William was at Brighton, where her friend Lady Betty ---- was also
staying. One day when Lady Betty went to her, she found her excessively
upset and discomposed, and she said it was on account of a dream that
she had had of her uncle, who, as Lord Moira, had brought her up, and
who was then Governor of Malta. She said that she had seen a very long
hall, and at the end of the hall a couch with a number of female figures
in different attitudes of grief and despair bending over it, as if they
were holding up or attending to some sick person. On the couch she saw
no one, but immediately afterwards she seemed to meet her Uncle Moira
and embraced him, but said, with a start, ‘Uncle, how terribly cold you
are!’ He replied, ‘Bessie, did you not know that I am dead?’ She
recollected herself instantly and said, ‘Oh, Uncle, how does it look on
the other side?’--‘Quite different from what we have imagined, and far,
far more beautiful,’ he replied with a radiant smile, and she awoke. Her
dream occurred just when Lord Hastings[158] (formerly Lord Moira) died
on a couch in a hall at Malta; but she told the circumstances to Lady
Betty long before the news came.[159]
“Another story which Countess Bathyany told from personal knowledge was
that of Sir Samuel Romilly.
“Lord Grey[160] and his son-in-law, Sir Charles Wood, were walking on
the ramparts of Carlisle. The rampart is there still. It is very narrow,
and there is only one exit; so if you walk there, you must return as
you came. While they were walking, a man passed them, returned, passed
them again, and then disappeared in front of them over the parapet,
where there was really no means of exit. There was a red scarf round his
throat. ‘How very extraordinary! and how exactly like Sir Samuel
Romilly!’ they both exclaimed. At that moment Sir Samuel Romilly had cut
his throat in a distant part of England.
“We have tea in the evening in the oak room in the tower, where Miss
Ingilby has often had much to say that is interesting, especially this
story.[161]
“A regiment was lately passing through Derbyshire on its way to fresh
quarters in the North. The Colonel, as they stayed for the night in one
of the country towns, was invited to dine at a country-house in the
neighbourhood, and to bring any one he liked with him. Consequently he
took with him a young ensign for whom he had taken a great fancy. They
arrived, and it was a large party, but the lady of the house did not
appear till just as they were going in to dinner, and, when she
appeared, was so strangely _distraite_ and preoccupied that she scarcely
attended to anything that was said to her. At dinner, the Colonel
observed that his young companion scarcely ever took his eyes off the
lady of the house, staring at her in a way which seemed at once rude and
unaccountable. It made him observe the lady herself, and he saw that she
scarcely seemed to attend to anything said by her neighbours on either
side of her, but rather seemed, in a manner quite unaccountable, to be
listening to some one or something behind her. As soon as dinner was
over, the young ensign came to the Colonel and said, ‘Oh, do take me
away: I entreat you to take me away from this place.’ The Colonel said,
‘Indeed your conduct is so very extraordinary and unpleasant, that I
quite agree with you that the best thing we can do is to go away;’ and
he made the excuse of his young friend being ill, and ordered their
carriage. When they had driven some distance the Colonel asked the
ensign for an explanation of his conduct. He said that he could not help
it: during the whole of dinner he had seen a terrible black shadowy
figure standing behind the chair of the lady of the house, and it had
seemed to whisper to her, and she to listen to it. He had scarcely told
this, when a man on horseback rode rapidly past the carriage, and the
Colonel, recognising one of the servants of the house they had just
left, called out to know if anything was the matter. ‘Oh, don’t stop me,
sir,’ he shouted; ‘I am going for the doctor: my lady has just cut her
throat.’
“I may mention here a very odd adventure which the other day befell my
cousin Eliot Yorke. He had been dining with the Duke of Edinburgh at
Buckingham Palace, in company with Captain Fane, commander of H.M.S.
_Bellerophon_ on the Australian Station, who had been well known to the
Duke and Eliot when the former was in the South Pacific in command of
the _Galatea_. At a late hour Eliot and Captain Fane left the Palace to
go to their club. The night was cold and wet, and, at a crossing in
Pall-Mall, their attention was attracted by a miserable-looking little
boy, ragged and shoeless, who, even in the middle of the night, was
still plying his broom and imploring a trifle from the passers-by.
Eliot, according to his usual custom, stopped to talk to the boy before
relieving him. The child told him he was a stranger in London, that he
had walked there to seek his fortune from some place on the south-west
coast, that he was friendless, homeless, and penniless. The proprietor
of the crossing had lent it to him, with his broom, for that day only:
he had earned very little, but Eliot’s gift would secure him a lodging
for that night, and then--he supposed there was nothing for him but
starvation or the workhouse. ‘And have you really no friends or
relations in the world?’ said Eliot. ‘Well, sir, it’s the same as if I
had none; I’ve one brother, but I shall never see him again: I don’t
even know if he is alive.’--‘What is your brother’s name?’--‘He is---- a
signalman on board the _Bellerophon_, and he’s been away so long, he
must have forgotten me.’--‘It’s perfectly true,’ said Captain Fane;
‘that is the name of my signalman, and a very smart fellow he is, and I
see a strong likeness between him and the boy.’ The end of the story
was, that the two gentlemen secured a lodging for the boy, bought him
some clothes, and, through Captain Fane’s influence, he has been placed
on board one of the training vessels, the _Dreadnought_, for the
merchant service, to become a good sailor like his brother. But the
combination of coincidences is most striking and providential. The boy
only had the crossing for that one night. Captain Fane, almost the only
person in the world who could testify to the truth of the story, was
only in London for two nights; and he chanced to be walking with Eliot,
probably the only person who would have thought of stopping to talk to a
crossing-sweeper.”
* * * * *
“_Hickledon, Dec. 12._--I came here yesterday, cordially welcomed by
Lord and Lady Halifax, and was glad to find the John Greys here. In the
evening my dear Charlie and Lady Agnes came, but our meeting was sadly
clouded by the terrible news of poor George Grey’s[162] death at
Sandringham. Charlie had brought back many stories from Bedgebury. Mr.
Beresford Hope told him that:--
“His uncle Lord Decies, who had lived very much in Paris, met, somewhere
abroad, young Lionel Ashley, a brother of Lord Shaftesbury, then about
twenty-two, and living abroad, as he was, very much out at elbows. Lord
Decies remarked upon a very curious iron ring which he wore, with a
death’s-head and cross-bones upon it. ‘Oh,” said young Ashley, ‘about
that ring there is a very curious story. It was given to me by a famous
conjuring woman, Madame le Norman, to whom I went with two friends of
mine. She prophesied that we should all three die before we were
twenty-three. My two friends are already dead, and next year I shall be
twenty-three: but if you like I will give you the ring;’ and he gave it
to Lord Decies. When Lord Decies returned to Paris, Lionel Ashley came
there too, and he frequently dined with him. A short time before the
expiration of the year, at the end of which Ashley was again engaged to
dine with him, Lord Decies was sitting in his room, when the door
opened, and Lionel Ashley came in. As to what was said, Mr. Hope was not
quite clear, but the circumstances were so singular, that when he was
gone, Lord Decies rang the bell, and asked the servant who had let Mr.
Ashley into the house. ‘Mais, Milord, M. Ashley est mort hier,’ said the
servant.’[163]
“Another curious story was that--
“Lord Waterford (the third Marquis) was one day standing talking to the
landlord of the little inn in the village close to his place of
Curraghmore, when some one rushed up looking very much agitated, and
said that there had been a most dreadful murder in the neighbouring
hills. ‘Then it must be the little one,’ exclaimed the landlord. ‘What
can you possibly mean?’ said Lord Waterford, feeling that the landlord’s
knowing anything about it was at the least very suspicious. ‘Well, my
lord,’ he said, ‘I am afraid you will never believe me, but I must tell
you that last night I dreamt that two men came to my inn, a tall man and
a little, and in my dream I saw the tall man murder the little man with
a very curious knife, the like of which I never saw before. I told my
wife when I woke, but she only laughed at me. To my horror, in the
course of the morning, those very two men came to my inn, and I was so
possessed by my dream, that I refused them admittance; but coming back
some time after, I found that my wife had let them in when my back was
turned. I could not turn them out of my house when they were once in it,
but going in, some time after, with some refreshments, my horror was
increased by seeing on the table between them the very knife I had seen
in my dream. Then they paid for their refreshments and went away.’
“The dream of the landlord and the coincidences were considered so
extraordinary, that as the bridge at Carrick-on-Suir was the only bridge
in that part, and so in a sort of sense divided the country, a watch was
put there, and in course of time a man exactly answering to the
landlord’s description crossed the bridge and was arrested. In prison,
he confessed that he had been in the cod-fishery trade with his
companion, who had boasted to him of his great earnings. He forthwith
attached himself to him, travelled with him, and watched for the
opportunity of murdering him. His weapon was a knife used in the
cod-fishery, quite unknown in those parts.”[164]
* * * * *
“_Hickledon, Dec. 15._--I have been indescribably happy here with
Charlie Wood, and every hour spent with him makes one more entirely feel
that there is no one like him--_no one_.
‘He is indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth may dress themselves.’
To be with him is like breathing a pure mountain air of which one cannot
imbibe enough, and which strengthens one for weary months of other
people. One cannot give greater praise to Lady Agnes than by saying that
she is quite worthy of him. Charlie’s relation to his parents is
perfect. They often cannot agree with his High Church opinions, but he
never obtrudes his views or annoys them, and while his whole life is
what it is, could they grudge or regret what is so much to him?”
* * * * *
“_Dec. 27._--I have been staying at Brighton with old Mrs. Aïdé, who
looks like Cinderella’s godmother or some other good old fairy. It
amused me exceedingly to see at Brighton an entirely new phase of
society--two pleasant old ladies, daughters of Horace Smith, being its
best and leading elements. Every one was full of the ‘Rink,’ where all
the young gentlemen and all the young ladies skate all morning on dry
land, come home to luncheon, and skate again all afternoon. No balls or
picnics can promote the same degree of intimacy which is thus
engendered, young men walking about (on wheels) all day long, holding up
and assisting their partners. I heard this curious story:--
“The Princess Dolgorouki had been a great heiress and was a person of
great wealth and importance. One day she was driving through a village
near S. Petersburg, when she heard the clear glorious voice of a young
girl ringing through the upper air from a high window of one of the poor
houses by the wayside. So exquisitely beautiful was the voice, that the
Princess stopped her carriage to listen to it. The voice rang on and on
for some time, and, when it ceased, the Princess sent into the house to
inquire who the singer had been. ‘Oh,’ they said, ‘it is one of your own
serfs: it is the girl Anita;’ and they brought the singer out, a sweet,
simple, modest-looking girl of sixteen, and at the bidding of the
Princess she sang again, quite simply, without any shyness, in the road
by the side of the carriage. The Princess was greatly captivated by her,
and finding that she was educated beyond most of those in her condition
of life, and being at that time in want of a reader in her palace at S.
Petersburg, she took her to live with her, and Anita occupied in her
house a sort of intermediate position, arranging the flowers, and
reading when she was wanted. Gradually the Princess became very fond of
her, and gave her masters, under whom she made such astonishing
progress, that she became quite a well-educated young lady, while her
glorious voice formed the great attraction to all parties at the
Dolgorouki Palace.
“The Princess Dolgorouki never foresaw, what actually happened, that
when her son returned from ‘the grand tour,’ which young men made then,
and found a very beautiful, interesting girl domesticated with his
mother, he would fall in love with her. When she saw that it was so, she
said to her son that she had a great regard for the girl and could not
have her affections tampered with, so that he had better go away again.
The young prince answered that he had no idea whatever of tampering with
the girl’s affections, that he loved her and believed that she loved
him, and that he meant to marry her.
“On hearing this the fury of the Princess knew no bounds. She tried to
reason with her son, and when she found him perfectly impracticable, she
expelled him from her house and got him sent to France. She also sent
for the parents of Anita, and told them that they must look out at once
for a suitable person for her to marry, for that she must be married
before Prince Dolgorouki returned. She said that she had no complaint to
make of the girl, and that she would help her to make a good marriage by
giving her a very handsome dowry; all that she required was that she
should be married at once. Before leaving, however, Prince Dolgorouki
had found means to be alone for a few minutes with Anita, and had said
to her, ‘I know my mother well, and I know that as soon as I am gone she
will try to insist upon your marriage. She will not consider you, and
will sacrifice you to the fulfilment of her own will. Have faith,
however, in me, hold out, and believe that, however impossible it may
seem, I shall be able at the last moment to save you.’
“The bridegroom whom Anita’s father found was a certain Alexis
Alexandrovitch, a farmer near their village and a person in a
considerably higher position than their own. He was rich, he was much
esteemed, he was greatly in love with Anita, but he was vulgar, he was
hideous, he was almost always drunk, and Anita hated him. He came to her
father’s house and proposed. She refused him, but he persisted in
persecuting her with his attentions, and her own family tried to force
her consent by ill-treatment, half-starved her, cut her off from all
communication with others and from all her usual employments, and shut
her up in a room at the top of the house.
“At last, when the girl’s position was becoming quite untenable and her
courage was beginning to give way, Prince Dolgorouki contrived to get a
note conveyed to her. He said, ‘I know all you are suffering; it is
impossible that you can go on like this. Pretend to accede to their
wishes. Accept Alexis Alexandrovitch, but believe that I will save you
at the last moment.’
“So Anita said to her father and mother that she gave in to their
wishes, that she would marry Alexis Alexandrovitch. And the wedding-day
was fixed and the wedding-feast was prepared. And the old Princess
Dolgorouki gave not only a very handsome dowry, but a very splendid set
of peasant’s jewellery to the bride. She did not intend to be present at
the ceremony herself, but she would send her major-domo to represent
her.
“The wedding-day arrived, and the bride went with her family to the
church, which was darkened, with candles burning everywhere. And Alexis
Alexandrovitch also arrived, rather more drunk than usual. The church
was thronged with people from end to end, for the place was within a
drive of S. Petersburg, and it was fine weather, and hundreds of persons
who remembered Anita and had admired her wonderful voice at the
Dolgorouki palace drove out to see her married. According to the custom
of the Greek Church, the register was brought to be signed before the
ceremony. He signed his name ‘Alexis Alexandrovitch,’ and she signed
her name ‘Anita.’ And the service began, and the crowd pressed thicker
and thicker round the altar, and there was a constant struggle to see.
And the service went on, and the crowd pressed more closely still, and
somehow in the press the person who stood next to Anita was not Alexis
Alexandrovitch, and the service went on, and Anita was married, and then
the crowd opened to let the bridal pair pass through, and Anita walked
rapidly down the church on the arm of her bridegroom, and it was not
Alexis Alexandrovitch, and it was Prince Dolgorouki. And a carriage and
four was waiting at the church door, and the bridal pair leapt into it
and were whirled rapidly away.
“The old Princess Dolgorouki sent at once to stop them at the frontier,
but the flight had been so well arranged, that she was too late. Then
she swore (having everything in her own power) that she would cut off
her son without a penny, and that she would never see him again. Happy
in each other’s love, however, the young Prince and Princess Dolgorouki
lived at Paris, where, though they were poor, Anita’s wonderful voice
could always keep them from want. There, their two children were born.
Four years elapsed, and they heard nothing from their Russian home. Then
the family lawyer in S. Petersburg wrote to say that the old Princess
Dolgorouki was dead. Whether she had repented of disinheriting her son
and had destroyed her will before her death, or whether she had put off
making her unjust will till it was too late, no one ever knew. The will
of disinheritance was never found, and her son was the heir of all his
mother’s vast estates.
“The young couple set out with their children for Russia to take
possession, but it was in the depth of winter, the Prince was very
delicate, and the change to the fierce cold of the north made him very
ill, and at some place on the frontier--Wilna, I think--he died. The
unhappy widow continued her journey with her children to S. Petersburg,
but when she arrived, the heir-at-law had taken possession of
everything. ‘But I am here; I am the Princess Dolgorouki,’ she said.
‘No,’ was the answer; ‘you have been residing for four years with Prince
Dolgorouki, but the person you married was Alexis Alexandrovitch, and
the register in which you both signed your names before your marriage
exists to prove it.’ A great lawsuit ensued, in which the young widow
lost almost all the money she had, and eventually she lost her lawsuit
too, and retired in great penury to Warsaw, where she maintained herself
and her children by singing and giving music lessons.
“But at Warsaw, as at Paris, her beauty and gentleness, and the patience
with which she bore her misfortunes, made her a general favourite.
Amongst those who became devoted to her was a young lawyer, who examined
into the evidence of the trial which had taken place, and then, going to
her, urged her to try again. She resisted, saying that the case was
hopelessly lost, and besides, that she was too poor to reopen it. The
lawyer said, ‘If you regain the vast Dolgorouki inheritance, you can pay
me something: it will be a drop in the ocean to you; but if the lawsuit
fails I shall expect no payment.’ So she let him try.
“Now the lawyer knew that there was no use in contending against the
register, but he also felt that as--according to his view--in the eyes
of God his client had been Princess Dolgorouki, there was no harm in
tampering with that register if it was possible. It was no use, however,
to alter it, as hundreds of witnesses existed who had seen the register
as it was, and who knew that it contained the name of Alexis
Alexandrovitch as the husband of Anita, for the trial had drawn
attention to it from all quarters. It was also most difficult to see the
register at all, because it was now most carefully guarded. But at last
there came a time when the young lawyer was not only able to see the
register, but when for three minutes he was left alone with it. And he
took advantage of those three minutes to do what?
“He scratched out the name, or part of the name of Alexis
Alexandrovitch, and he wrote the name of Alexis Alexandrovitch over
again.
“Then when people came and said, ‘But here is the register--here is the
name of Alexis Alexandrovitch,’ he said, ‘Yes, there is certainly the
name of Alexis Alexandrovitch, but if you examine, you will find that it
is written over something else which has been scratched out.’
“And the case was tried again, and the young widow was reinstated in the
Dolgorouki property, and she was the grandmother of the present Prince
Dolgorouki.”
* * * * *