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had been discarded by the greater part of his contemporaries. He and the Duchess had spent many winters abroad, chiefly in Italy, and he frequently, not to say continually, conversed with the Duchess in French. For three years they took, and occupied, the Palazzo Rospiglioso at Rome, an adjunct to which was, and for aught that I know still is, the celebrated “Aurora" of Guido. I may here relate an incident which occurred at the Palazzo Rospiglioso many years after the occupation of it by my uncle and aunt. An English tourist, scantily versed in the Italian language, having, of course, heard of Guido’s “Aurora,” had finished his survey of the apartments, and went into the garden for the purpose of seeing the celebrated painting. He was met, however, by the gardener, who told him that he could not be admitted, the latter explaining, “ Perchè c'è il Gran Turco !” (maize). “Bless my sou) !” said Paterfamilias; “how strange! I had not heard of that. The gardener told me it was inhabited by the Great Turk."
(He was not aware that the maize which was stored in the building was called in Italian “gran turco.")
• Their two children spoke from early childhood English, French, and Italian with equal fluency. The boy, then Earl of Angus, afterwards Marquis of Douglas, before succeeding to the dukedom was of such remarkable beauty of feature and form that he used to be followed by a little crowd when he walked in the streets of Rome. I may add that after he had grown up I have often heard him spoken of as “the handsomest man in England,” which was quite true.
Of the Duchess I hardly trust myself to write, so gifted she was with talents of various kinds, but most of all in music. She had a magnificent voice of three perfect octaves, and her scientific knowledge of music wa as remarkable as was her intuitive feeling. I may add that many of her gifts above alluded to were inherited from her father, William Beckford, of Fonthill Abbey, one of the most extraordinary men in some respects that it has been my chance to meet in life. Before he was twenty he had written in French, and published the Oriental novel of “Vathek,” which was for many years to be found in almost every
every drawing-room in England or France. Some literary pirate having published, of course without authority, a translation of it, Beckford published his English version of it. In respect of music, I do not know whether he ever knew a
single note, but I have often seen him sit down at the piano play a succession of the wildest and most extravagant, uni meditated compositions.
* Another incident at the Hamilton dinner-table; and I m here premise that, in the earlier part of this century, the art which we call the “dessert-spoon ” was not known in Scotla The two houses in which it was first introduced were Hamil and Dalkeith. Before that there was no spoon known betwi the tablespoon and the teaspoon. Bearing this in mind, proceed to the following incident. A rough country squire, dini for the first time at Hamilton, had been served in the seco course with a sweet dish containing cream or jelly, and with the servant handed him a dessert-spoon. The laird turned round and round in his great fist, and said to the servant: “W do you gie me this for, ye d- -d fule ? Do think ma moc has got any smaller since a' lappit up my soup ?”
'At one of these dinners there was a Russian prince, who name I forget, and who sat on the right hand of the Duche At the close of the first course a servant brought round a pla on which were a dozen little square pieces of toast, with a delica morsel, apparently of meat, upon each, which he elicited from t Duchess to consist of the inside of a woodcock, and considered great delicacy. Unconscious that the plate was to go round, took it from the hands of the servant, placed it before him, an deliberately ate up the whole of it, saying that he found it exce lent; but he ascertained that the delicate meat upon the toa was not termed in polite circles the “stomach," but was called t “ trail.” Whether that particular dish or any other disagreed wit his digestion, I know not, but it happened that the same night, little before midnight, the Duke heard the footsteps of his gue walking up and down in the passage adjoining the rooms in whic they both slept. The Duke lit a candle, opened his door, an went up to his guest, and inquired whether he was suffering an pain ; and the latter replied, “Yes, I have got a very bad pain i
During the various periods of my stay at Hamilton we ha of course, a great number of interesting guests. Among other Walter Scott, Henry Brougham, and Denman. Walter Scott gav us a memento of his stay there in the little poem called “Cadzo Castle,” which must be familiar to those who are acquainted wit his works—one of the most ancient castles belonging to th
Douglas before and during the reign of Queen Mary. The woods adjoining the Castle enjoyed then, and probably do still, the honour of being the resort of a small herd of the ancient Caledonian cattle, a still more famous herd of wild cattle being preserved at Chillingham Castle, in Northumberland, and are known to everyone.'
Hence we fly south to London, where, as in Edinburgh or at Hamilton, Mr. Murray was sure to see much good company.
• I have before mentioned that, during my earlier years, my parents occupied during the season their house in Lower Berkeley Street, where my mother's small parties were frequently enlivened by some of the best conversations and music to be found in London. The famous 'cellist and composer, Viotti, was a frequent guest; and the poets, William Spencer and Tommy Moore, as well as Rogers, were often to the fore, and complimentary verses to my mother were to be found in their published vers de société. I may add that I enjoyed the friendship and affection of Rogers till the very end of his career. I had a general place allotted to me at his breakfast-table without invitation, where I heard many a bout of literary sparring between Sydney Smith and Macaulay. But of course these last remarks belong to a much later period. It has often been asserted, verbally and in print, that Rogers was in the habit of making puns and jeux de mots, and nothing can be further from the truth. But one or two of the bons mots are, I believe, justly attributed to him-as, for instance, the epigram on the well-known Ward, Lord Dudley, which was the distich:
• Ward has no heart, they say—but I deny it;
. And another incident:
Rogers was going to Cambridge by the coach, and he was sitting on the box by the driver, and was annoyed at seeing that their progress was slow and that other coaches passed them. He asked the driver : “What's the name of this coach that you're driving?"
• The man answered: “It's called the 'Regulator.'”
""Ah! I see," said Rogers; "it's very well named, for all the other coaches go by it."
So far I have quoted entirely from the recollections dictated to his niece in the last years of his life, and as I turned the pages there was so much that seemed impossible to omit that have left but scant space for extracts from the notebook; ye there is much here, too, that claims notice. Under th heading 'Most Remarkable Men I have known' I find the following:
“Of course, heading the list is Goethe, though I was no advanced enough to appreciate him. Then would come, I sup
I pose, Darwin. I never followed him sufficiently through all hi scientific career; I read his first book with great interest, as there was so much that was new-his views so novel and the science contained in them so unique.
'The man who impressed me most, and whom personally I look upon as about third in this class of men, was one I met in America, and comparatively little known in England, except by lawyers. I mean Judge or Chief Justice Marshall.
He was Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and therefore the highest legal authority in America. I met him in Washington, and he most kindly invited me to his house at Richmond, Virginia, when I should visit that part of the country. He was a remarkably fine-looking man-tall, handsome, a beautiful countenance, and the most delightful voice, low and sweet. His knowledge was exceptionally wide on all matters, and his manners and life as exceptionally simple. He had known Washington and all the other “makers of America," and would tell most interesting stories of them. I gladly remembered his invitation, and found his house was little more than a cottage, such as a well-to-do tradesman might live in over here. I knocked at the door, and it was presently opened by the Chief Justice himself. If he had a servant, I never saw him. His mode of life was simplicity itself. Yes, he was a most remarkable man.
‘Of course, the greatest man of another kind altogether that I ever knew was Wellington. It was not only his battles, but his despatches, that were so wonderful. The wisdom, foresight, sagacity, shown in them were quite marvellous. All through the Peninsular War, when he was pitted against two of Napoleon's greatest generals-Soult and Masséna—his genius showed itself. He would write, “Soult is in such a position ; he will probably do
1 such and such a thing,” and prepare accordingly; and he was almost invariably right. He never had a fair chance against Napoleon. The latter's resources were so inexhaustible, from the time of his Italian campaign, when he beat the old Austrian
generals, the youngest of whom was about seventy, and whose every movement had to be sanctioned by their Government; while he had a free hand, and defeated all their manæuvres while they were thinking about them. I say, after Italy, Napoleon was supreme in France. If he lost 20,000 men, he sent for 20,000 more, and they were accorded him immediately without a question ; whereas if Wellington lost 50 or 100 of his raw Spanish recruits, or, still worse, of his own Englishmen, he might send for more, but never a man did he get. So that one can never know what Wellington would have been had he been in a similar position to that of his great opponent. He had immense political knowledge, and what he did not know his wonderful good sense told him intuitively. At the time that Lord Palmerston left office, and Sir Robert Peel was made Prime Minister, the latter was abroad, Wellington being head of the War Office. Wellington undertook the triple charge of War Office, Foreign Office, and Premiership till Sir Robert Peel's return. All who worked under him said they had never seen such clear-headedness. And his men testify to his simplicity of life and utter abnegation and forgetfulness of self, while he was always full of thought for his men. He was rather blunt in society, but always to the point-a thorough soldier.'
À propos of the mention of Goethe as the greatest man Sir Charles ever met, I venture to insert here an account, already published by him in a letter to the Academy,' of his visit to the poet at Weimar.
'In the summer of 1830 I left England for Dresden for the purpose of prosecuting my studies in the German language, and, having arrived at Frankfort, I engaged a Lohnkutscher to convey me to Dresden, viâ Weimar. Having passed the night at the latter place, I ordered the horses to be ready to continue my journey; but, before starting, I told the landlord that I was most anxious to see the great poet of Germany, who was then Prime Minister at the Court of Weimar. He told me that a similar wish was frequently expressed by travellers from every country passing through Weimar, but that the Minister never acceded to it, excepting in the case of persons bringing him letters of introduction from great personages or intimate friends. Nevertheless, I would not give up my object without making an attempt to attain it, so I sat down and wrote a note to the great man, the contents of which I need not record here, even if I could remem