Miss Eden's Letters Part 40

It may still go off, but the villain [illegible] who is almost a savage, has suddenly moved down to within 24 hours' distance of our territories with a horde of fifty thousand men, plenty of guns, boats, etc., and in short, he looks full of mischief, all the more that he is egged on by the Chinese. He may change his mind and take fright at the last minute, but in the meanwhile he gives just as much trouble as if he had declared war, and George has had a very busy week, ordering off regiments, taking up transports, buying stores, etc., and as usual, if a thing has to be done in a hurry, he has to _see to it_ all himself. He lives in a rage with the slowness of the people whose real work it is, but by dint of _aggravating_ them, he gets them through their work. I see the necessity of sending out a fresh English head of affairs, with the English const.i.tution and habits of business, every five or six years. He keeps all the poor languid Indians moving.

George was to have come up here yesterday, but he found the Captain of the man-of-war and the Colonel of the regiment that are to start first were making out that they could not possibly sail on Monday; so he sent for them in the morning and made a row, and then asked them to dinner in the evening to keep up the impression, and got some knowledgeable people to meet them, and I suppose he will get them off in time. The Chinese news is already better since Charles and Sir Gordon came away. Sir H.

Pottinger[511] began in the right way. The Chinese Commissioner wanted to see him at Canton; he said it was the Commissioner's place to come to him at Macao. Now there is an expedition gone to Amoy. The Chinese by their proclamations seem thoroughly frightened. The General and all the Navy people seem to be in ecstasies at having somebody who will not stop all their fighting, and I should not be the least surprised if Sir H.

Pottinger finished it all in six months, by merely making war in a common straightforward manner.

I suppose f.a.n.n.y has told you of all Mrs. Elliot's anger, and her expectations that Charles is to have t.i.tles and governments, etc., the instant he lands in England. She is quite right, poor thing! to take his part, though foolish to announce such expectations. But the change of Ministry may be of use to him. Otherwise, there never was a man, meaning well--which I really suppose he did--who has left such a fearful character behind him with everybody but the Chinese, who profess the greatest grat.i.tude to him, as well they may. Your most affectionate

E. E.

[In March 1842, Lord Auckland and his sisters left India. After their four months' voyage they settled down in a little whitewashed villa, Eden Lodge, Kensington Gore.

Lowther Lodge was built subsequently on this site, now occupied by the Geographical Society.]

CHAPTER XIII

1842-1849

_Miss Eden to Lady Theresa Lister._

KNIGHTSBRIDGE, _Tuesday[1845]._

MY DEAREST THERESA, I can write to no one in all the nervous flurry of these first meetings but yourself, my poor afflicted friend. Amongst all the happiness of others your hard trial[512] haunts me, and shocked me more, much more than I can say, when I heard it at Southampton.

I had dwelt so much on seeing you, as I was told you were unaltered, and then to hear of this! I will not write more now, but even the first moments of arrival cannot pa.s.s away without my telling you how heartily I feel for you and love you.

We are all well. Your most affectionate

E. EDEN.

_Miss Eden to Lady Francis Egerton._

MONTAGU HALL, _Tuesday [1846]._

MY DEAREST LADY F., I have been meaning to write to you constantly, but once caught again in the trammels of civilised life the thing was impossible.

We spent a great deal of time (very pleasantly, so there is nothing to repent of) at Penrhyn Castle. We went there for two days last Thursday week, and somehow stayed on till yesterday. Every time we talked of pursuing our Welsh researches, Colonel Pennant[513] declared that that particular sight was one of the drives from the Castle, and there came round a jaunting-car with four great black horses, and we went off to Conway.

There was no end to the sights, besides the Castle itself, which I think one of the finest things I ever saw. The arches over the staircase looked just like so much guipure lace carved in stone. Every table and cabinet is carved either in slate, marble, or oak, till it is a curiosity of itself. I slept in the State room, an enclosed field of blue damask and carved oak. The bed, which I should imagine did not cover more than an acre and a half, is said to have cost __1500. I never had an opportunity of judging whether there was work enough for the money, having slept generally near the edge.

Old Mr. Pennant spent __28,000 a year for twelve years in building this Castle, and died just as it was finished. Everything from the Keep to the inkstand on the table was made by his own Welsh people; and I never saw a more wealthy-looking peasantry, and I suppose he spent his money well according to Miss Martineau's principles of doing good; that of getting as much work done for one's self as one's money will pay for. I daresay that is all right, but it always sounds like a suspicious system, and against all the early ideas of self-denial and alms-giving that were so carefully dinned into one; but the result in the instance of Penrhyn Castle has been highly satisfactory, and I do not really mean that he did not do a great deal of good besides. There never was a more charitable man.

The present Col. Pennant, too, seems very anxious to do all that is right, but he is oppressed, I think, by his immense wealth, and is not quite used to it yet. He seems quite wretched still for the loss of his poor little heiress of a wife. I like him for that, and also for that, having like Malvolio had greatness thrust upon him, he has not set up any of the yellow-stocking men or cross-garters Malvolio thought necessary, but is just as simple and unpretending as he was in his poor days.

We had a very large party and a pleasant one, Edwin Lascelles amongst others. What a man! If there happens to be any one day in which he does not say or do anything absolutely rude, everybody takes a fit of candour, and says: "After all, _I_ like Edwin Lascelles. I think we are all wrong about him; he did not shut the drawing-room door in my face when I was coming across the hall, and if you observed, he said before he shut all the windows that he hoped n.o.body minded a hot room. I do not think him selfish."

We came here yesterday; rather a change from Penrhyn Castle. The house was built in the reign of Henry the Sixth, and furnished, I should suppose, by his own upholsterer, and has not been touched up since apparently. And there is a window from which Henry the Seventh escaped, and another at which Oliver Cromwell looked out, and in short, every window has its legend, but none of them have any shutters or curtains, and the doors are all _on the latch_ and never shut, and the weather has turned cold, and in short, it is a relief to my feelings to say that I am bored to death and wretchedly uncomfortable, and think seriously of following Henry the Seventh's example, and of escaping out of one of the windows, to which my interesting legend will henceforth be attached.

It is very wrong, I know, to say I am so bored, but it is only to you--and I might have an illness if I did not mention it--and though it is extremely kind of them to have us here, I wish they wouldn't, and we had never meant to come. But when we were on our way yesterday to Pengwern (Lord Mostyn's) this Mr. and Lady H. Mostyn[514] brought him over here, and then sent out letters and ordered post-horses to bring us too, and I always knew how it would be. However, it is so very dull it is almost amusing, particularly when I look at Lord Auckland, who has always declared he should like the Mostyns. Indeed, he was the only one of us who knew them, and I am happy to say that he sank into a sweet slumber after coffee, from which he was roused with difficulty at bed-time. One good of age and of hard practice in India is that one does not mind being bored so much as one did in youth, though then, to be sure, it hardly ever happened. The sediment at the bottom of the cup is decidedly thicker whenever I am reduced to swallow a spoonful; but still, I am more used to the taste of it, and as d.i.c.kens says of orange peel and water, if you make believe very much, it is not so very nasty.

I am in a strong course of mutiny between them. But there is the luncheon bell happily; that is always a cheerful incident. Ever your affectionate

E. E.

_Miss Eden to Lady Theresa Lewis._[515]

BONCHURCH, 1845.

Our post goes out now about half-past one, and we have had an immensely long sermon against the poor Babylonians, who have all been dead and gone so long that I for one have quite forgiven them their little errors; but the preacher here is always having a poke at the poor sinners in the Old Testament. It can do them no good, and it does none to us, and he preaches an hour extempore, and altogether I think he had better not be so spiteful.

Our Bonchurch has been a most successful experiment, and I have not enjoyed a summer so much for the last ten years. We have a beautiful little cottage in pretty grounds of its own. The country about you know well, and I must say it is a very kind dispensation that as the wear of life takes away or deadens the interests that seem so exciting in youth, and many of which are artificial, the love of nature becomes more intense. I am quite happy with shadows and clouds pa.s.sing over beautiful hills. I wish I could read Wordsworth, but the actual food itself I cannot swallow.

f.a.n.n.y has certainly been very much better since she came here. She is one of the people who cannot exist without constant excitement, and then, though it makes her quite well for the time, it affects her spirits still more afterwards. She never from a child was happy in a quiet home life, though with such high spirits in society, and of course that tells more in her present state of health. When the Bingham Barings and Lady Morley[516] were at Bonchurch for a week, she was in good spirits, and then seemed quite languid and thoroughly _cheerless_, and then all of a sudden went over to Ryde for two days, and George says walked and drove and paid visits, dined out both days, and seemed quite as well as ever, and she certainly looked all the better for it. Now again, she has sunk into a listless state, and I am afraid there will be no amus.e.m.e.nt she will care about for the rest of our stay. We have the R. Edens and 7 of their children perched on their little hill. Lady Buckinghamshire was nearly three weeks perched on hers, quite delighted with her life here. She had never before been on a railroad, nor on the sea since 1793 (when my father was Amba.s.sador in Holland), and she left her carriage in England and rumbled about in a fly. She delights in pretty country and astonished us by her activity.

Then Maurice Drummond[517] suddenly appeared, walking about the Island with a young Grenfell, and they took a cottage for a week at Shanklin; and it is certainly satisfactory, as Mary says, to see how innocently the young men of the present day can amuse themselves. These boys walked about 20 miles a day and were in such a fuss to keep their expenses down,--ordering 4 lb. of mutton, and cutting off wine at luncheon, and really happy in a good, joyous, young way. And they settled when they went away that they should have a pilgrimage next year to their dear Rose Cottage--such a little hole you never saw.

Maurice made no allusion to the state of his affection, but he does not seem to pine. With a little mellowing he will turn out very agreeable; he has so much natural fun. We wanted him to stay on with us, but he had not time. Your most affectionate

E. E.

_Miss Eden to Lady Theresa Lewis._

EDEN LODGE, _Tuesday [1850]._

MY DEAREST THERESA, Many thanks for your long amusing letter. I do not wonder you are pleased, both with the Election itself and the manner in which it went off; and I am not at all sorry you were spared the presence of F. O'Connor.[518] Even though he could have done no harm, I can't abide these Chartists, and hate to be convinced that they are real live people, and particularly wish that they never may come between the wind and my n.o.bility.

Of course you will drive about in London for a few months with your carriage as it appeared in the streets of Hereford, and by the courtesy of the real member, you will be favoured with the real bouquet used on that occasion. Great attraction, immense crowds, etc.

I know nothing more of Macaulay except that he unfeignedly rejoices at an opportunity for getting out of office,[519] an escape that he has unluckily wished to make for some time. There is of course a great struggle made to keep him, but I can imagine office must interfere materially with the pursuits and pleasures of his life.

I think Edinburgh,[520] which affects all sorts of cla.s.sical and pedantic tastes and enthusiasm, turning off one of the first orators and cleverest men of the age for a tradesman in the High Street (both men having the same politics), must feel slightly foolish now it is over.

They say the prejudice against Macaulay was entirely personal; he never would listen to a word any of his const.i.tuents had to say, which is hard, considering his demands on other people's ears; but still they may look a long time before they find a member so well worth listening to. I wonder whether Cowan is agreeable.

I am really better, thank you, and able to walk about the garden. But the quiet system has answered so well in bringing back my strength, that I am willing to go on with it a little longer. It is said about Elections that the Liberal cause has gained ground, that the Government has lost ditto, which is as much as to say that four Ministers have been defeated and we have a very rough Radical Parliament. If Sir George Grey[521] is beat, I think a fifth loss of that kind would lead to some decided change. Yesterday everybody said his success was quite certain, and as every Election has gone exactly against the a.s.sertions made in London, I presume he is beat by this time.

My Lord[522] is very busy at Portsmouth reviewing, sailing, firing guns, surveying, giving great dinners at bad Inns, and doing everything that is most unnatural to a quiet landsman; but he seems very happy, and it is more wholesome than that eternal writing. To-morrow, he is by way of sailing to Jersey and Guernsey. I never understand men in office, and cannot catch an _apercue_ of the motive which induces them to take office or keep it; but I presume if this stormy sort of weather continues, he will hardly persist in that little dutiful party of pleasure.

We have been reading Lamartine's _Girondins_--interesting, as that eternal French Revolution always is, but most painful reading, and I do not like Lamartine's style. It is too epigrammatic and picturesque, and his sentiments drive me mad. He tries to make out that Robespierre was humane, Petion _homme de bien_, Madame Roland virtuous, the Revolution itself glorious. It gives me a great deal of exercise in my weak health, for I throw the book away in a rage, and then have to go and fetch it again. Your ever affectionate

E. E.

_Miss Eden to Lady Theresa Lewis._