PART II

During the next ten or twelve years, we get but a few scanty glimpses of the white Queen of the Desert. After Dr. Meryon's departure, Lady Hester removed to a house in the village of Dar Jôon, or Djoun, a few miles from Mar Elias. To this house she added considerably, laid out some magnificent gardens, and enclosed the whole within high walls, after the manner of a mediaeval fortress. Here she seems to have passed her time in encouraging the Drûzes to rise against Ibrahim Pasha, intriguing against the British consuls, and attempting to bolster up the declining authority of the Sultan. In the intervals of political business she occupied herself with superintending her building and gardening operations, physicking the sick, and tyrannising over her numerous servants. At Mar Elias, which she still kept in her own hands, she maintained an eccentric old Frenchman, General Loustaunau,[Footnote: Dr. Meryon's spelling.] who had formerly been in the service of a Hindu rajah, but who, in his forlorn old age, had wandered to Syria, and there, by dint of applying scriptural texts to contemporary events, had earned the title of a prophet. Like Samuel Brothers, he prophesied marvellous things of Lady Hester's future, which she, rendered credulous by her solitary life in a mystic land, where her own power and importance were the chief facts in her mental horizon, came at length to believe.

In the _Memoirs of a Babylonian Princess_ by the Emira Asmar, daughter of the Emir Abdallah Asmar, the author tells us that as a girl she paid a long visit to the Emir Beshyr, prince of the Drûzes. During this visit, which apparently took place in the early 'twenties,' she was sent with a present of fruit to a neighbour's house, and there found a guest, a tall and splendid figure, arrayed in masculine costume, and engaged in smoking a narghila. The stranger, who talked Arabic with elegance and fluency, discoursed on the subject of astrology, and tried to dissuade the Emira from taking a projected journey to the west, where she declared the sun had set, and the hearts of the people retained not a spark of the virtues of their forefathers. 'Soon afterwards,' continues the author, 'she rose, and took her departure, attended by a large retinue. A spirited charger stood at the gate, champing the bit with fiery impatience. She put her foot in the stirrup, and vaulting nimbly into the saddle, which she bestrode like a man, started off at a rapid pace, galloping over rocks and mountains in advance of her suite, with a fearlessness and address that would have done honour to a Mameluke.' The stranger was, of course, none other than Lady Hester Stanhope, who, at that time, was on friendly terms with the Emir Beshyr, afterwards her bitterest enemy.

In 1826 Lady Hester wrote to invite Dr. Meryon to return to her service for a time, and he, who seems all his life to have 'heard the East a-calling,' could not resist the invitation, though his movements were now hampered by a wife and children. He began at once to make preparations for his departure, but was unable to start before September 1827. Meanwhile, Lady Hester had been gulled by an English traveller, designated as 'X.' in her letters, who had induced her to believe that he was empowered by the Duke of Sussex, the Duke of Bedford, and a committee of Freemasons, to offer her such sums as would extricate her out of her embarrassments, and to settle an income upon her for life. How a woman who professed to have an almost supernatural insight into the characters and thoughts of men, could have been deceived by this story, it is hard to understand; but apparently the difficulties of her situation, occasioned by her custom of making large presents to the pashas in order to keep up her authority, as well as by her benevolence to the poor in her neighbourhood, rendered her willing to catch at any straw for help. This 'X' had promised to send her a hundred purses for her current expenses, and to bring out from England masons and carpenters to enlarge her dwelling, in order that she might entertain the many distinguished people who desired to come and see her. In a letter to Dr. Meryon on this subject, Lady Hester writes:--

'If X.'s story is true, and my debts, amounting to nearly 10,000 pounds, are to be paid, then I shall go on making sublime and philosophical discoveries, and employing myself in deep, abstract studies. In that case I shall want a mason, carpenter, etc., income made out 4000 pounds a year, and 1000 pounds more for people like you, and 500 pounds ready money that I may stand clear. In the event that all that has been told me is a lie.... I shall give up everything for life to my creditors, and throw myself as a beggar on Asiatic charity, and wander far without one parra in my pocket, with the mare from the stable of Solomon in one hand, and a sheaf of the corn of Beni-Israel in the other. I shall meet death, or that which I believe to be written, which no mortal can efface. On September 7, Dr. Meryon and his family embarked at Leghorn for Cyprus, but on nearing Candia their merchant brig, which was taking out stores to the Turks, was attacked by a Greek vessel, whose officers took possession of the cargo, and also of all the passengers' property, except that belonging to the English party, which they left unmolested. The Italian captain was obliged to put back to Leghorn, and here Dr. Meryon heard the news of the battle of Navarino, and of the shelter afforded by Lady Hester Stanhope to two hundred refugee Europeans from Sayda. By this time she was at daggers-drawn with the Emir Beshyr, whose rival she had helped and protected. The Emir revenged himself by publishing in the village an order that all her native servants were to return to their homes, upon pain of losing their property and their lives. 'I gave them all their option,' she writes. 'And most of them remained firm. Since that, he has threatened to seize and murder them here, which he shall not do without taking my life too. Besides this, he has given orders in all the villages that men, women, and children who render me the smallest service shall be cut in a thousand pieces. My servants cannot go out, and the peasants cannot approach the house. Therefore, I am in no very pleasant situation, being deprived of the necessary supplies of food, and what is worse, of water; for all the water here is brought on mules' backs up a great steep.'

Dr. Meryon was unable to resume his voyage at this time, but in 1828, the news that a malignant fever had attacked the household at Jôon, and carried off Lady Hester's companion, Miss Williams, gave rise to fresh plans for a visit to Syria. The doctor had, however, so much difficulty in overcoming his wife's fears of the voyage, that it was not until November, 1830, that he could induce her to embark at Marseilles on a vessel bound for the East. The party arrived at Beyrout on December 8, and found that Lady Hester had sent camels and asses to bring them on their way, together with a characteristic note to the effect that it would give her much pleasure to see the doctor, but that, as for his family, they must not expect any other attentions than such as would make them comfortable in their new home. She hoped that Dr. Meryon would not take this ill, as she had warned him that she did not think English ladies could make themselves happy in Syria, and, therefore, he who had chosen to bring them must take the consequences. This letter was but the first of a long series of affronts put upon Mrs. Meryon, the result of Lady Hester's dislike of her own sex, and probably also of her objection to the presence of another Englishwoman in a spot where she had reigned so long as the only specimen of her race.

A cottage had been provided in the village of Jôon for the travellers, and the ladies were escorted thither by the French secretary, while the doctor hastened to report himself to Lady Hester, who received him with the greatest cordiality, kissing him on both cheeks, and placing him beside her on the sofa. Remembering her overweening pride of birth, he was astonished at his reception, more especially as, in the early part of her travels, she had never even condescended to take his arm, that honour being reserved exclusively for members of the aristocracy. He found her ladyship in good health and spirits, but barely provided with the necessaries of life, having been robbed of nearly all her articles of value by the native servants during her last illness. A rush-bottomed chair, a deal table, dishes of common yellow earthenware, bone-handled knives and forks, and two or three silver spoons, were all that remained of her former grandeur, and the dinner was on a par with the furniture.

The house, which had been hired at a rental of £20 from a Turkish merchant, had been greatly enlarged, and the gardens, with their summer-houses, covered alleys, and serpentine walks, were superior to most English gardens of the same size. Lady Hester's constant outlay in building arose from her idea that people would fly to her for succour and protection during the revolutions that she believed to be impending all over the world; her camels, asses, and mules were kept with the same view, and her servants were taught to look forward with awe to events of a supernatural nature, when their services and energies would be taxed to the utmost. In choosing a solitary life in the wilderness, far removed from all the comforts and pleasures of civilisation, Lady Hester seems to have been actuated by her craving for absolute power, which could not be gratified in any European community. It was her pleasure to dwell apart, surrounded by dependants and slaves, and out of reach of that influence and restraint which are necessarily endured by each member of a civilised society. She had become more violent in her temper than formerly, and treated her servants with great severity when they were negligent of their duties. Her maids and female slaves she punished summarily, and boasted that there was nobody who could give such a slap in the face, when required, as she could. At Mar Elias her servants, when tired of her tyranny, frequently absconded by night, and took refuge in Sayda, only two miles away; but at Dar Joon their retreat was cut off by mountain tracts, inhabited only by wolves and jackals, and they were consequently almost helpless in the hands of their stern mistress. The establishment at this time consisted of between thirty and forty servants, labourers, and slaves, most of whom are described as dirty, lazy, and dishonest. Between them they did badly the work that half-a-dozen Europeans would have done respectably, but then the Europeans would not have stood the slaps and scoldings that the natives took as a matter of course.

For the last fifteen years Lady Hester had seldom left her bed till between two and five o'clock in the afternoon, nor returned to it before the same hour next morning; while for four years she had never stirred beyond the precincts of her own domain, though she took some air and exercise in the garden. Except when she was asleep, her bell was incessantly ringing, her servants were running to and fro, and the whole house was kept in commotion. During the greater part of the day she sat up in bed, writing, talking, scolding, and interviewing her work-people. Few of her _employés_ escaped from her presence without reproof, and as no one was allowed to exercise his own discretion in his work, her directing spirit was always in the full flow of activity. 'On one and the same day,' says Dr. Meryon,' I have known her to dictate papers that concerned the political welfare of a pashalik, and descend to trivial details about the composition of a house-paint, the making of butter, drenching a sick horse, choosing lambs, or cutting out a maid's apron. The marked characteristic of her mind was the necessity that she laboured under of incessantly talking.' Her conversations, we are told, frequently lasted for seven or eight hours at a stretch, and at least one of her visitors was kept so long in discourse that he fainted away with fatigue. Dr. Meryon bears witness to her marvellous colloquial powers, her fund of anecdote, and her talent for mimicry, but observes that every one who conversed with her retired humbled from her presence, since her language was always calculated to bring men down to their proper level, to strip off affectation, and to expose conceit.

At this time her political influence was on the wane, but a few years previously, when her financial affairs were in a more flourishing condition, and when it was observed that the pashas valued her opinion and feared her censure, she had obtained an almost despotic power over the neighbouring tribes. A remarkable proof of her personal courage, and also of the supernatural awe with which she was regarded, was shown by her open defiance of the Emir Beshyr, in whose principality she lived, but who was unable to reduce her, either by threats or persecution, to even a nominal submission to his rule. Not only did she give public utterance to her contemptuous opinion of the Emir, but she openly assisted his relation and rival, the Sheikh Beshyr; yet no vengeance either of the bowstring or the poisoned cup rewarded her rebellion or her intrigues.

Her religious views, at this time, were decidedly complicated in character. She firmly believed in astrology, of which she had made a special study, and to some extent in demonology. But more remarkable was her faith in the early coming of a Messiah, or Mahedi, on which occasion she expected to play a glorious part. The prophecies of Samuel Brothers and of General Loustaunau had taken firm possession of her mind, more especially since their words had been corroborated by a native soothsayer, Metta by name, who brought her an Arabic book which, he said, contained allusions to herself. Finding a credulous listener, he read and expounded a passage relating to a European woman who was to come and live on Mount Lebanon at a certain epoch, and obtain power and influence greater than a sultan's. A boy without a father was to join her there, whose destiny was to be fulfilled under her wing; while the coming of the Mahedi, who was to ride into Jerusalem on a horse born saddled, would be preceded by famine, pestilence, and other calamities. For a long time Lady Hester was persuaded that the Due de Reichstadt was the boy in question, but after his death she fixed upon another youth. In expectation of the coming of the Mahedi she kept two thoroughbred mares, which no one was suffered to mount. One of these animals, named Laila, had a curious malformation of the back, not unlike a Turkish saddle in shape, and was destined by its mistress to bear the Mahedi into Jerusalem, while on the other, Lulu, Lady Hester expected to ride by his side on the great day. 'Hundreds and thousands of distressed persons,' she was accustomed to say, 'will come to me for assistance and shelter. I shall have to wade in blood, but it is the will of God, and I shall not be afraid.' Borne up by these glorious expectations, she never discussed her debts, her illnesses, and her other trials, without at the same time picturing to herself a brighter future, when the neglect with which she had been treated by her family would meet with its just punishment, and her star would rise again to gladden the world, and more especially those who had been faithful to her in the time of adversity.

As soon as Mrs. Meryon was settled in her new home, and had recovered from the fatigue of the journey, Lady Hester appointed a day for her reception. What happened at the momentous interview we are not told, except that at the close Lady Hester attired her visitor in a handsome Turkish spencer of gold brocade, and wound an embroidered muslin turban round her head. Unfortunately, Mrs. Meryon, not understanding the Eastern custom of robing honoured guests, took off the garments before she went away, and laid them on a table, a grievous breach of etiquette in her hostess's eyes. Still, matters went on fairly smoothly until, about the end of January, a messenger came from Damascus to ask that Dr. Meryon might be allowed to go thither to cure a friend of the pasha's, who had an affection of the mouth. Lady Hester was anxious that the doctor should obey the call, but, greatly to her annoyance, he entirely declined to leave his wife and children alone for three or four weeks in a strange land, where they could not make themselves understood by the people about them. In vain Lady Hester tried to frighten Mrs. Meryon into consenting to her husband's departure by assuring her that there were Dervishes who could inflict all sorts of evil on her by means of charms, if she persisted in her refusal. Mrs. Meryon quietly replied that her husband could go if he chose, but that it would not be with her goodwill. From that hour was begun a system of hostility towards the doctor's wife, which never ceased until her departure from the country.

Lady Hester was not above taking a leaf out of the book of her own enemy, the Emir Beshyr, for she used her influence to prevent the villagers from supplying the wants of the recalcitrant family, who now began to make preparations for their departure. They were obliged, however, to wait for remittances from England, and also for Lady Hester's consent to their leaving Jôon, since none of the natives would have dared lend their camels or mules for such a purpose, and even the consular agents at Sayda would have declined to mix themselves up in any business which might bring upon them the vengeance of the Queen of the Desert. Meanwhile, a truce seems to have been concluded between the principals, and Lady Hester again invited the doctor's visits, contenting herself with sarcastic remarks about henpecked husbands, and the caprices of foolish women. She graciously consented to dispense with his services about the beginning of April, and promised to engage a vessel at Sayda to convey him and his family to Cyprus. Before his departure she produced a list of her debts, which then amounted to £14,000. The greater part of this sum, which had been borrowed at a high rate of interest from native usurers, had been spent in assisting Abdallah Pasha, the family of the Sheikh Beshyr, and many other victims of political malignity.

The unwonted luxury of an admiring and submissive listener led the lonely woman to discourse of the glories of her youth, and the virtues of her hero-in-chief, William Pitt. She spoke of his passion for Miss Eden, daughter of Lord Auckland, who, she said, was the only woman she could have wished him to marry. 'Poor Mr. Pitt almost broke his heart, when he gave her up,' she declared. 'But he considered that she was not a woman to be left at will when business might require it, and he sacrificed his feelings to his sense of public duty.... "There were also other reasons," Mr. Pitt would say; "there is her mother, such a chatterer!--and then the family intrigues. I can't keep them out of my house; and, for my king and country's sake, I must remain a free man." Yet Mr. Pitt was a man just made for domestic life, who would have enjoyed retirement, digging his own garden, and doing it cleverly too.... He had so much urbanity too! I recollect returning late from a ball, when he was gone to bed fatigued; there were others besides myself, and we made a good deal of noise. I said to him next morning, "I am afraid we disturbed you last night." "Not at all," he replied; "I was dreaming of the masque of _Comus_, and when I heard you all so gay, it seemed a pleasant reality...." Nobody would have suspected how much feeling he had for people's comforts, who came to see him. Sometimes he would say to me, "Hester, you know we have got such a one coming down. I believe his wound is hardly well yet, and I heard him say that he felt much relieved by fomentations of such an herb; perhaps you will see that he finds in his chamber all that he wants." Of another he would say, "I think he drinks asses' milk; I should like him to have his morning draught." And I, who was born with such sensibility that I must fidget myself about everybody, was sure to exceed his wishes.'

After describing Mr. Pitt's kindness and consideration towards his household, Lady Hester related a pathetic history of a faithful servant, who, in the pecuniary distress of his master, had served him for several years with the purest disinterestedness. 'I was so touched by her eloquent and forcible manner of recounting the story,' writes the soft-hearted doctor, 'and with the application I made of it to my own tardiness in going to her in her distress, together with my present intention of leaving her, that I burst into tears, and wept bitterly. She soothed my feelings, endeavoured to calm my emotions, and disclaimed all intention of conveying any allusion to me. This led her to say how little malice she ever entertained towards any one, even those who had done her injury, much less towards me, who had always shown my attachment to her; and she added that, even now, although she was going to lose me, her thoughts did not run so much on her own situation as on what would become of me; and I firmly believed her.'

Dr. Meryon sailed from Sayda on April 7, 1831, and for the next six years we only hear of the strange household on Mount Lebanon through the reports of chance visitors. After the siege of Acre by Ibrahim Pasha in the winter of 1831-32, the remnant of the population fled to the mountains, and Lady Hester, whose hospitality was always open to the distressed, declares that for three years her house was like the Tower of Babel. In 1832 Lamartine paid a visit to Jôon, which he has described in his _Voyage en Orient_. He seems to have been graciously received, though his hostess candidly informed him that she had never heard his name before. He explained, rather to her amusement, that he had written verses which were in the mouths of thousands of his countrymen, and she having read his character and destiny, assured him that his Arabian descent was proved by the high arch of his instep, and that, like every Arab, he was a poet by nature. Lamartine, in return, represents himself as profoundly impressed by his interview with this 'Circe of the East,' denies that he perceived in her any traces of insanity, and declares that he should not be surprised if a part of the destiny she prophesied for herself were realised--at least to the extent of an empire in Arabia, or a throne in Jerusalem.

Lady Hester formed a less favourable opinion of M. Lamartine than she allowed him to perceive, and she was greatly annoyed at the passages referring to herself that appeared in his book. Speaking of him and his visit some years later, she observed: 'The people of Europe are all, or at least the greater part of them, fools, with their ridiculous grins, their affected ways, and their senseless habits.... Look at M. Lamartine getting off his horse half-a-dozen times to kiss his dog, and take him out of his bandbox to feed him, on the route from Beyrout; the very muleteers thought him a fool. And then that way of thrusting his hands into his pockets, and sticking out his legs as far as he could--what is that like? M. Lamartine is no poet, in my estimation, though he may be an elegant versifier; he has no sublime ideas. Compare his ideas with Shakespeare's--that was indeed a real poet.... M. Lamartine, with his straight body and straight fingers, pointed his toes in my face, and then turned to his dog, and held long conversations with him. He thought to make a great effect when he was here, but he was grievously mistaken.' It may be noted that all Lady Hester's male visitors 'pointed their toes in her face,' in the hope of being accredited with the arched instep that she held to be the most striking proof of long descent. Her own instep, she was accustomed to boast, was so high that a little kitten could run underneath it.

A far more lifelike and picturesque portrait of Lady Hester than that by Lamartine has been sketched for us by Kinglake in his _Eothen_. In a charming passage which will be familiar to most readers, he relates how the name of Lady Hester Stanhope was as delightful to his childish ears as that of Robinson Crusoe. Chief among the excitements of his early days were the letters and presents of the Queen of the Desert, who as a girl had been much with her grandmother, Lady Chatham, at Burton Pynsent, and there had made the acquaintance of Miss Woodforde of Taunton, afterwards Mrs. Kinglake. The tradition of her high spirit and fine horsemanship still lingered in Somersetshire memories, but Kinglake had heard nothing of her for many years, when, on arriving at Beyrout in 1835, he found that her name was in every mouth. Anxious to see this romantic vision of his childhood, he wrote to Lady Hester, and asked if she would receive his mother's son. A few days later, in response to a gracious letter of invitation, Kinglake made his pilgrimage to Jôon.

The house at this time, after the storm and stress of the Egyptian invasion, had the appearance of a deserted fortress, and fierce-looking Albanian soldiers were hanging about the gates. Kinglake was conducted to an inner apartment where, in the dim light, he perceived an Oriental figure, clad in masculine costume, which advanced to meet him with many and profound bows. The visitor began a polite speech which he had prepared for his hostess, but presently discovered that the stranger was only her Italian attendant, Lunardi, who had conferred on himself a medical title and degree. Lady Hester had given orders that her guest should rest and dine before being introduced to her, and he tells us that, in spite of the homeliness of her domestic arrangements, he found both the wine and the cuisine very good. After dinner he was ushered into the presence of his hostess, who welcomed him cordially, and had exactly the appearance of a prophetess, 'not the divine Sibyl of Domenichino, but a good, business-like, practical prophetess.' Her face was of astonishing whiteness, her dress a mass of white linen loosely folded round her like a surplice. As he gazed upon her, he recalled the stories that he had heard of her early days, of the capable manner in which she had arranged the political banquets and receptions of Pitt, and the awe with which the Tory country gentlemen had regarded her. That awe had been transferred to the sheikhs and pashas of the East, but now that, with age and poverty, her earthly power was fading away, she had created for herself a spiritual kingdom.

After a few inquiries about her Somersetshire friends, the prophetess soared into loftier spheres, and discoursed of astrology and other occult sciences. 'For hours and hours this wonderful white woman poured forth her speech, for the most part concerning sacred and profane mysteries.' From time to time she would swoop down to worldly topics, 'and then,' as her auditor frankly observes, 'I was interested.' She described her life in the Arab camps, and explained that her influence over the tribes was partly due to her long sight, a quality held in high esteem in the desert, and partly to a brusque, downright manner, which is always effective with Orientals. She professed to have fasted physically and mentally for years, living only on milk, and reading neither books nor newspapers. Her unholy claim to supremacy in the spiritual kingdom was based, in Kinglake's opinion, on her fierce, inordinate pride, perilously akin to madness, though her mind was too strong to be entirely overcome. As a proof of Lady Hester's high courage, he notes the fact that, after the fall of Acre, her house was the only spot in Syria and Palestine where the will of Mehemet Ali and his fierce lieutenant was not law. Ibrahim Pasha had demanded that the Albanian soldiers should be given up, and their protectress had challenged him to come and take them. This hillock of Dar Jôon always kept its freedom as long as Chatham's granddaughter lived, and Mehemet Ali confessed that the Englishwoman had given him more trouble than all the insurgents of Syria. Kinglake did not see the famous sacred mares, but before his departure he was shown the gardens by the Italian secretary, who was in great distress of mind because he could not bring himself to believe implicitly in his employer's divine attributes. He said that Lady Hester was regarded with mingled respect and dislike by the neighbours, whom she oppressed by her exactions. The few 'respected' inhabitants of Mount Lebanon apparently claimed the right to avail themselves of their neighbours' goods; and the White Queen's establishment was supported by contributions from the surrounding villages. This is quite a different account from that given by Dr. Meryon, who always represents Lady Hester as a generous benefactress, admired and adored in all the country-side.

In 1836 Lady Hester discovered another mare's nest in the shape of a legacy which she chose to believe was being kept from her by her enemies. In August of this year she wrote to Dr. Meryon, who was then living at Nice, and invited him to come and assist her in settling her debts, and getting possession of this supposititious property. 'A woman of high rank and good fortune,' she continues, 'who has built herself a _palais_ in a remote part of America, has announced her intention of passing the rest of her life with me, so much has she been struck with my situation and conduct. [Footnote: This was the Baroness de Feriat, who did not carry out her intention.] She is nearly of my age, and thirty-seven years ago--I being personally unknown to her--was so taken with my general appearance, that she never could divest herself of the thoughts of me, which have ever since pursued her. At last, informed by M. Lamartine's book where I was to be found, she took this extraordinary determination, and in the spring I expect her. She is now selling her large landed estate, preparatory to her coming. She, as well as Leila the mare, is in the prophecy. The beautiful boy has also written, and is wandering over the face of the globe till destiny marks the period of our meeting.... I am reckoned here the first politician in the world, and by some a sort of prophet. Even the Emir wonders, and is astonished, for he was not aware of this extraordinary gift; but yet all say--I mean enemies--that I am worse than a lion when in a passion, and that they cannot deny I have justice on my side.'

After his former experience of Lady Hester's hospitality it is surprising that the doctor should have been willing to accept this invitation, and still more surprising that his wife should have consented to accompany him to Syria. But the East was still 'a-calling,' and the almost hypnotic influence which her ladyship exercised over her dependants seems to have lost none of its efficacy. Accordingly, as soon as the Meryons could arrange their affairs, they embarked at Marseilles, landing at Beyrout on July 1, 1837. Here the doctor received a letter from Lady Hester, recommending him to leave his family at Beyrout till he could find a house for them at Sayda. 'For your sake,' she continued, 'I should ever wish to show civility to all who belong to you, but caprice I will never interfere with, for from my early youth I have been taught to despise it.' Here was signal proof that the past had not been forgotten, and that war was still to be waged against the unfortunate Mrs. Meryon. In defiance of Lady Hester's orders, the whole family proceeded to Sayda, whence Dr. Meryon rode over to Dar Jôon. He received a warm personal welcome, but his hostess persisted in her statement that there was no house in the village fit for the reception of his womenkind, as nearly all had been damaged by recent earthquakes. It was finally arranged that Mrs. Meryon and her children should go for the present to Mar Elias, which was then only occupied by the Prophet Loustaunau.

At this time Lady Hester's financial affairs were becoming desperate, and she had even been reduced to selling some of her handsome pelisses. Yet she still maintained between thirty and forty servants, and when it was suggested to her that she might reduce her establishment, she was accustomed to reply, 'But my rank!' Her live-stock included the two sacred mares, three 'amblers,' five asses, a flock of sheep, and a few cows. A herd of a hundred goats had recently been slaughtered in one day, because their owner fancied that she was being cheated by her goatherd. Now she decided to have the three 'amblers' shot, because the grooms treated them improperly. The under-bailiff received orders to whisper into the ear of each horse before his execution, 'You have worked enough upon the earth; your mistress fears you might fall, in your old age, into the hands of cruel men, and she therefore dismisses you from her service.' This order was carried out to the letter, with imperturbable gravity.

After a short experience of the inconvenience of riding to and fro between Jôon and Mar Elias, Dr. Meryon persuaded his employer to allow him to bring his family to a cottage in the village; but the nearer the time approached for their arrival, the more she seemed to regret having assented to the arrangement. Frequent and scathing were her lectures upon the exigent ways of women, who, she argued, should be simple automata, moved only by the will and guidance of their masters. She lost no opportunity of throwing ridicule on Dr. Meryon's desire to have his family near him, in order that he might pass his evenings with them, pointing out that 'all sensible men take their meals with their wives, and then retire to their own rooms to read, write, or do what best pleases them. Nobody is such a fool as to moider away his time in the slipslop conversation of a pack of women.' Petty jealousies, quite inconsistent with her boasted philosophy, were perpetually tormenting her. One of the many monopolies claimed by her was that of the privilege of bell-ringing. The Mahometans, as is well known, never use bells in private houses, the usual summons for servants being three claps of the hands. But Lady Hester was a constant and vehement bell-ringer, and as no one else in the country-side possessed house-bells, it was generally believed that the use of them was a special privilege granted her by the Porte. She was therefore secretly much annoyed when the Meryons presumed to hang up bells in their new home. She made no sign of displeasure, but one morning it was discovered that the ropes had been cut and the bells carried off. Cross-examination of the servants elicited the fact that one of Lady Hester's emissaries had arrived late at night, wrenched off the bells, and taken them away. Some weeks later the Lady of Jôon confessed that she had instigated the act, and declared that if the Meryons' bells had hung much longer her own would not have been attended to.

Soon after the doctor's arrival, Lady Hester had dictated a letter to Sir Francis Burdett, in whom she placed great confidence, informing him of the property that she believed was being withheld from her, and requesting him to make inquiries into the matter. When not engaged in correspondence, discussing her debts, and scolding her servants, she was pouring out floods of conversation, chiefly reminiscences of her youth and diatribes against the men and manners of the present day, into the ears of the long-suffering doctor. 'From her manner towards other people,' he observes, 'it would have seemed that she was the only person in creation privileged to abuse and to command; others had nothing to do but to obey. She was haughty and overbearing, born to rule, impatient of control, and more at her ease when she had a hundred persons to govern than when she had only ten. Had she been a man and a soldier, she would have been what the French call a _beau sabreur_, for never was any one so fond of wielding weapons, and boasting of her capacity for using them, as she was. In her bedroom she always had a mace, which was spiked round the head, a steel battle-axe, and a dagger, but her favourite weapon was the mace.' Absurd as it may sound, it was probably her military vanity that led her to belittle the Duke of Wellington, of whose reputation she seems to have felt some personal jealousy. Yet she bears testimony to the esteem in which 'Arthur Wellesley' was held by William Pitt.

'I recollect, one day,' she told the doctor, 'Mr. Pitt came into the drawing-room to me, and said, "Oh, how I have been bored by Sir Sydney Smith coming with his box full of papers, and keeping me for a couple of hours, when I had so much to do." I observed to him that heroes were generally vain, and that Lord Nelson was so. "So he is," replied Mr. Pitt, "but not like Sir Sydney. And how different is Arthur Wellesley, who has just quitted me! He has given me such clear details upon affairs in India; and he talked of them, too, as if he had been a surgeon of a regiment, and had nothing to do with them; so that I know not which to admire most, his modesty or his talents, and yet the fate of India depends upon them." Then, doctor, when I recollect the letter he wrote to Edward Bouverie, in which he said he could not come down to a ball because his only corbeau coat was so bad he was ashamed to appear in it, I reflect what a rise he has had in the world. He was at first nothing but what hundreds of others are in a country town--he danced hard and drank hard. His star has done everything for him, for he is not a great general. He is no tactician, nor has he any of those great qualities that make a Caesar, a Pompey, or even a Bonaparte. As for the battle of Waterloo, both French and English have told me that it was a lucky battle for him, but nothing more. I don't think he acted well at Paris, nor did the soldiers like him.'

About the end of October Lady Hester took to her bed, and did not leave it till the following March. She had suffered from pulmonary catarrh for several years, which disappeared in the summer, but returned every winter with increased violence. Her practice of frequent bleeding had brought on a state of complete emaciation, and left very little blood in her body. If she had lived like other people, and trusted to the balmy air of Syria, Dr. Meryon was of opinion that nothing serious need have been apprehended from her illness. But she seldom breathed the outer air, and took no exercise except an occasional turn in the garden. She was always complaining that she could get nothing to eat; yet, in spite of her profession (to Kinglake) that she lived entirely on milk, we are told that her diet consisted of forcemeat balls, meat-pies, and other heavy viands, and that she seldom remained half an hour without taking nourishment of some kind. 'I never knew a human being who took nourishment so frequently,' writes Dr. Meryon, 'and may not this in some measure account for her frequent ill-humour?'

During her illness the doctor read aloud Sir Nathaniel Wraxall's _Memoirs_ and the _Memoirs of a Peeress_, edited by Lady Charlotte Bury, both of which books dealt with persons whom Lady Hester had known in her youth. In return she regaled him with stories of her own glory, of Mr. Pitt's virtues, of the objectionable habits of the Princess of Wales, and of the meanness of the Regent in inviting himself to dinner with gentlemen who could not afford to entertain him, the whole pleasantly flavoured by animadversions on the social presumption of medical men, and descriptions of the methods by which formerly they were kept in their proper place by aristocratic patients. At this time, the beginning of 1838, Lady Hester was anxiously expecting an answer from Sir Francis Burdett about her property, and, hearing from the English consul at Sayda that a packet had arrived for her from Beyrout, which was to be delivered into her own hands, her sanguine mind was filled with the hope of coming prosperity. But when the packet was opened, instead of the long-expected missive from Sir Francis, it proved to be an official statement from Colonel Campbell, Consul-General for Egypt, that in consequence of an application made to the British Government by one of Lady Hester's chief creditors, an order had come from Lord Palmerston that her pension was to be stopped unless the debt was paid. When she read the letter Dr. Meryon feared an outburst of fury, but Lady Hester, who, for once, was beyond violence, began calmly to discuss the enormity of the conduct both of Queen and Minister.

'My grandfather and Mr. Pitt,' she said, 'did something to keep the Brunswick family on the throne, and yet the granddaughter of the old king, without hearing the circumstances of my getting into debt, or whether the story is true, sends to deprive me of my pension in a strange land, where I may remain and starve.... I should like to ask for a public inquiry into my debts, and for what I have contracted them. Let them compare the good I have done in the cause of humanity and science with the Duke of Kent's debts. I wonder if Lord Palmerston is the man I recollect--a young man from college, who was always hanging about waiting to be introduced to Mr. Pitt. Mr. Pitt used to say, "Ah, very well; we will ask him to dinner some day." Perhaps it is an old grudge that makes him vent his spite.' Colonel Campbell's letter had given the poor lady's heart, or rather her pride, a fatal stab, and the indignity with which she had been treated preyed upon her health and spirits. She now determined to send an ultimatum to the Queen, which was to be published in the newspapers if ministers refused to lay it before her Majesty. This document, which was dated February 12, 1838, ran as follows:--

'Your Majesty will allow me to say that few things are more disgraceful and inimical to royalty than giving commands without examining all their different bearings, and casting, without reason, an aspersion upon the integrity of any branch of a family that had faithfully served their country and the House of Hanover. As no inquiries have been made of me of what circumstances induced me to incur the debts alluded to, I deem it unnecessary to enter into any details on the subject. I shall not allow the pension given by your royal grandfather to be stopped by force; but I shall resign it for the payment of my debts, and with it the name of British subject, and the slavery that is at present annexed to it; and as your Majesty has given publicity to the business by your orders to your consular agents, I surely cannot be blamed for following your royal example.

'HESTER LUCY STANHOPE.'

This was accompanied by a long letter to the Duke of Wellington, in which Lady Hester detailed her services in the East, and expressed her indignation at the treatment she had received. She was now left with only a few pounds upon which to maintain her house-hold until March, when she could draw for £300, apparently the quarter's income from a legacy left her by her brother, but of this sum £200 was due to a Greek merchant at Beyrout. The faithful doctor collected all the money he had in his house, about eleven pounds, and brought it to her for her current expenses, but with her usual impracticability she gave most of it away in charity. Still no letter came from Sir Francis Burdett, and the unfortunate lady, old, sick, and wasted to a skeleton, lay on her sofa and lamented over her troubles in a fierce, inhuman fashion, like a wounded animal at bay. In the course of time a reply came from Lord Palmerston, in which he stated that he had laid Lady Hester's letter before the Queen, and explained to her Majesty the circumstances that might be supposed to have led to her writing it. The communications to which she referred were, he continued, suggested by nothing but a desire to save her from the embarrassments that might arise if her creditors were to call upon the Consul-General to act according to the strict line of his duty. This letter did nothing towards assuaging Lady Hester's wrath. In her reply she sarcastically observed:--

'If your diplomatic despatches are all as obscure as the one that now lies before me, it is no wonder that England should cease to have that proud preponderance in her foreign relations which she once could boast of.... It is but fair to make your lordship aware that, if by the next packet there is nothing definitely settled respecting my affairs, and I am not cleared in the eyes of the world of aspersions, intentionally or unintentionally thrown upon me, I shall break up my household, and build up the entrance-gate to my premises; there remaining as if I was in a tomb till my character has been done justice to, and a public acknowledgment put in the papers, signed and sealed by those who have aspersed me. There is no trifling with those who have Pitt blood in their veins upon the subject of integrity, nor expecting that their spirit would ever yield to the impertinent interference of consular authority, etc., etc.' It must be owned that there is a touch of unconscious humour in Lady Hester's terrible threat of walling herself up, a proceeding which would only make herself uncomfortable and leave her enemies at peace. For the present matters went on much as usual at Dar Jôon. No household expenses were curtailed, and thirty native servants continued to cheat their mistress and idle over their work. In March, that perambulating princeling, his Highness of Pückler-Muskau, arrived at Sayda, whence he wrote a letter to Lady Hester, begging to be allowed to pay his homage to the Queen of Palmyra and the niece of the great Pitt. 'I have the presumption to believe, madam,' he continued, 'that there must be some affinity of character between us. For, like you, my lady, I look for our future salvation from the East, where nations still nearer to God and to nature can alone, some day, purify the rotten civilisation of decrepid Europe, in which everything is artificial, and where we are menaced with a new kind of barbarism--not that with which states begin, but with which they end. Like you, madam, I believe that astrology is not an empty science, but a lost one. Like you, I am an aristocrat by birth and by principle; because I find a marked aristocracy in nature. In a word, madam, like you, I love to sleep by day and be stirring by night. There I stop; for in mind, energy of character, and in the mode of life, so singular and so dignified, which you lead, not every one who would can resemble Lady Hester Stanhope.'

Lady Hester was flattered by this letter, and told the doctor that he must ride into Sayda to see the prince, and tell him that she was too ill to receive him at present, but would endeavour to do so a few weeks later. The prince was established with his numerous suite in the house of a merchant of Sayda. Mehemet Ali had given him a special firman, requiring all official persons to treat him in a manner suitable to his rank, his whole expenditure being defrayed by cheques on the Viceroy's treasury. The prince, unlike most other distinguished travellers who were treated with the same honour, took the firman strictly according to the letter, and could boast of having traversed the whole of Egypt and Syria with all the pomp of royalty, and without having expended a single farthing. Dr. Meryon describes his Highness as a tall man of about fifty years of age, distinguished by an unmistakable air of birth and breeding. He wore a curious mixture of Eastern and Western costume, and had a tame chameleon crawling about his pipe, with which he was almost as much occupied as M. Lamartine with his lapdog. The prince stated that he had almost made up his mind to settle in the East, since Europe was no longer the land of liberty. 'I will build myself a house,' he said, 'get what I want from Europe, make arrangements for newspapers, books, etc., and choose some delightful situation; but I think it will be on Mount Lebanon.'

In his volume of travels in the East called _Die Rückkehr_, Prince Pückler-Muksau has given an amusing account of the negotiations that passed between himself and Lady Hester on the subject of his visit. For once the niece of Pitt had found her match in vanity and arrogance; and if the prince's book had appeared in her lifetime, it is certain that she would not long have survived it. His Highness describes how he bided his time, as though he were laying siege to a courted beauty, and almost daily bombarded the Lady of Jôon with letters calculated to pique her curiosity by their frank and original style. At last, 'in order to be rid of him,' as she jokingly said, Lady Hester consented to receive him on a certain day, which, from his star, she deemed propitious to their meeting. Thereupon the prince, who intended that his visit should be desired, not suffered, wrote to say that he was setting out for an expedition into the desert, but that on his return he would come to Jôon, not for one day, but for a week. This impertinence was rewarded by permission to come at his own time.

Great preparations were made for the entertainment of this distinguished visitor. The scanty contents of the store and china cupboards were spread out before the lady of the house, who infused

## activity into the most sluggish by smart strokes from her stick. The

epithets of beast, rascal, and the like, were dealt out with such freedom and readiness, as to make the European part of her audience sensible of the richness and variety of the Arabian language. On Easter Monday, April 15, the prince, followed by a part of his suite, and five mule-loads of baggage, rode into the courtyard. He wore an immense Leghorn hat lined with green taffetas, a Turkish scarf over his shoulders, and blue pantaloons of ample dimensions. From the excellent fit of his Parisian boots, it was evident that he felt his pretensions to a thoroughbred foot were now to be magisterially decided. The prince has given his own impression of his hostess, whom he describes as a thorough woman of the world, with manners of Oriental dignity and calm. With her pale, regular features, dark, fiery eyes, great height, and sonorous voice, she had the appearance of an ancient Sibyl; yet no one, he declares, could have been more natural and unaffected in manner. She told him that since she had lost her money, she had lived like a dervish, and assimilated herself to the ways of nature. 'My roses are my jewels,' she said, 'the sun and moon my clocks, fruit and water my food and drink. I see in your face that you are a thorough epicure; how will you endure to spend a week with me?' The prince, who had already dined, replied that he found she did not keep her guests on fruit and water, and assured her that English poverty was equivalent to German riches. He spent six or seven hours _tête-a-tête_ with his hostess each evening of his stay, and declares that he was astonished at the originality and variety of her conversation. He had the audacity to ask her if the Arab chief who accompanied her to Palmyra had been her lover, but she, not ill-pleased, assured him that there was no truth in the report, which at one time had been generally believed. She said that the Arabs regarded her neither as man or woman, but as a being apart.

Before leaving, the prince introduced his 'harem,' consisting of two Abyssinian slaves, to Lady Hester, and was presented, in his turn, to the sacred mares, which had lost their beauty, and grown gross and unwieldy under their _régime_ of gentle exercise and unlimited food. Leila licked the prince's hand when he caressed her, and Leila's mistress was thereby convinced that her guest was a 'chosen vessel.' She confided to him all her woes, the neglect of her relations and the ill-treatment of the Government, and gave him copies of the correspondence about her pension, which he promised to publish in a German newspaper. To Dr. Meryon she waxed quite enthusiastic over his Highness's personal attractions, the excellent cut of his coat, and the handiness with which he performed small services. 'I could observe,' writes the doctor, towards the end of the visit, 'that she had already begun to obtain an ascendency over the prince, such as she never failed to do over those who came within the sphere of her attraction; for he was less lofty in his manner than he had been at first, and she seemed to have gained in height, and to be more disposed to play the queen than ever.'

This, alas, was the last time that Lady Hester had the opportunity of playing the queen, or entertaining a distinguished guest at Dar Jôon. In June, when the packet brought no news of her imaginary property, and no apology from Queen or Premier, she began at last to despair. 'The die is cast,' she told Dr. Meryon, 'and the sooner you take yourself off the better. I have no money; you can be of no use to me--I shall write no more letters, and shall break up my establishment, wall up my gate, and, with a boy and girl to wait upon me, resign myself to my fate. Tell your family they may make their preparations, and be gone in a month's time.' Early in July Sir Francis Burdett's long-expected letter arrived, but brought with it no consolation. He could tell nothing of the legacy, but wrote in the soothing, evasive terms that might be supposed suitable to an elderly lady who was not quite accountable for her ideas or actions. As there was now no hope of any improvement in her affairs, Lady Hester decided to execute her threat of walling up her gateway, a proceeding which, she was unable to perceive, injured nobody but herself. She directed the doctor to pay and dismiss her servants, with the exception of two maids and two men, and then sent him to Beyrout to inform the French consul of her intention. On his return to Jôon he found that Lady Hester had already hired a vessel to take himself and his family from Sayda to Cyprus. He was reluctant to leave her in solitude and wretchedness, but knowing that when once her mind was made up, nothing could shake her resolution, he employed the time that remained to him in writing her letters, setting her house in order, and taking her instructions for commissions in Europe. He also begged to be allowed to lend her as much money as he could spare, and she consented to borrow a sum of 2000 piastres (about £80), which she afterwards repaid.

On July 30, 1838, the masons arrived, and the entrance-gate was walled up with a kind of stone screen, leaving, however, a side-opening just large enough for an ass or cow to enter, so that this much-talked-of act of self-immurement was more an appearance than a reality. On August 6, the faithful doctor took an affectionate leave of the employer, who, as Prince Pückler-Muskau bears witness, was accustomed to treat him with icy coldness, and sailed for western climes. To the last, he tells us, Lady Hester dwelt with apparent confidence on the approaching advent of the Mahedi, and still regarded her mare Leila as destined to bear him into Jerusalem, with herself upon Lulu at his side. It is to be hoped that the poor lady was able to buoy herself up with this belief during the last and most solitary year of her disappointed life. About once a month, up to the date of her death, she corresponded with Dr. Meryon, who was again settled at Nice. Her letters were chiefly taken up with commissions, and with shrewd comments upon the new books that were sent out to her.

'I should like to have Miss Pardoe's book on Constantinople,' she writes in October, 1838, 'if it is come out for strangers (_i.e._ in a French translation); for I fear I should never get through with it myself. This just puts me in mind that one of the books I should like to have would be Graham's _Domestic Medicine_; a good Red Book (_Peerage_, I mean); and the book about the Prince of Wales. I have found out a person who can occasionally read French to me; so if there was any very pleasing French book, you might send it--but no Bonapartes or "present times"--and a little _brochure_ or two upon baking, pastry, gardening, etc....

'_Feb._ 9, 1839.--The book you sent me (_Diary of the Times of George IV_., by Lady Charlotte Bury) is interesting only to those who were acquainted with the persons named: all mock taste, mock feeling, etc., but that is the fashion. "I am this, I am that"; who ever talked such empty stuff formerly? I was never named by a well-bred person.... Miss Pardoe is very excellent upon many subjects; only there is too much of what the English like--stars, winds, black shades, soft sounds, etc....

'_May_ 6.--Some one--I suppose you--sent me the _Life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald_. It is _I_ who could give a true and most extraordinary history of all those transactions. The book is all stuff. The duchess (Lord Edward's mother) was my particular friend, as was also his aunt; I was intimate with all the family, and knew that noted Pamela. All the books I see make me sick--only catchpenny nonsense. A thousand thanks for the promise of my grandfather's letters; but the book will be all spoilt by being edited by young men. First, they are totally ignorant of the politics of my grandfather's age; secondly, of the style of the language used at that period; and absolutely ignorant of his secret reasons and intentions, and the _real_ or apparent footing he was upon with many people, friends or foes. I know all that from my grandmother, who was his secretary, and, Coutts used to say, the cleverest _man_ of her time in politics and business.'

This was the last letter that Dr. Meryon received from his old friend and patroness. She slowly wasted away, and died in June 1839, no one being aware of her approaching end except the servants about her. The news of her death reached Beyrout in a few hours, and the English consul, Mr. Moore, and an American missionary (Mr. Thomson, author of _The Land and the Book_) rode over to Jôon to bury her. By her own desire she was interred in a grave in her garden, where a son of the Prophet Loustaunau had been buried some years before. Mr. Thomson has described how he performed the last rites at midnight by the light of lanterns and torches, and notes the curious resemblance between Lady Hester's funeral service and that of the man she loved, Sir John Moore. Together with the consul, he examined the contents of thirty-five rooms, but found nothing but old saddles, pipes, and empty oil-jars, everything of value having been long since plundered by the servants. The sacred mares, now grown old and almost useless, were sold for a small sum by public auction, and only survived for a short time their return to an active life.

In 1845 Dr. Meryon published his so-called _Memoirs of Lady Hester Stanhope_, which are merely an account of her later years, and a report of her table-talk at Dar Jôon. In 1846 he brought out her _Travels_, which were advertised as the supplement and completion of the _Memoirs_. From these works, and from passing notices of our heroine, we gain a general impression of wasted talents and a disappointed life. That she was more unhappy in her solitude than, in her unbending nature, she would avow, observes her faithful friend and chronicler, the record of the last years of her existence too plainly demonstrates. Although she derived consolation in retirement from the retrospect of the part she had played in her prosperity, still there were moments of poignant grief when her very soul groaned within her. She was ambitious, and her ambition had been foiled; she loved irresponsible command, but the time had come when those over whom she ruled defied her; she was dictatorial and exacting, but she had lost the influence which alone makes people tolerate control. She incurred debts, and was doomed to feel the degradation consequent upon them. She thought to defy her own nation, and they hurled the defiance back upon her. She entertained visionary projects of aggrandisement, and was met by the derision of the world. In a word, Lady Hester died as she had lived, alone and miserable in a strange land, bankrupt in affection and credit, because, in spite of her great gifts and innate benevolence, her overbearing temper had alienated friends and kinsfolk alike, and her pride could endure neither the society of equals, nor the restraints and conventions of civilised life.

PRINCE PÜCKLER-MUSKAU IN ENGLAND

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