CHAPTER XXVIII

I meet Byron Again—I endeavour to Exchange—Basil Montgomery—My Illness—Why I was not Placed on Half-pay

My Colonel appeared anything but pleased at my return. He had, it seems, been hopeful that my application for sick leave was but a preliminary step to my resigning my commission, when he had intended to replace me by a friend of his from the 4th Battalion; and was, therefore, naturally disappointed at my reappearance upon the scene.

_À propos_ of colonels and the way in which they treated officers to whom they happened to have taken a dislike, there was, just about this time, a great scandal in another battalion of my regiment.

Among the subalterns of this battalion was a certain Lieutenant Gilbert, who was very popular with his brother-officers; but his Colonel, who was a terrible martinet, persecuted him to a shameful degree and lost no opportunity of making his life a burden to him. One day, during a parade in which this officer was right guide of his company, the Colonel bullied him in a way which disgusted everyone. Suddenly, after being sworn at in the most disgraceful manner, the poor young fellow, his powers of self-control exhausted, threw down his sword. The Colonel at once ordered the Adjutant to place him under arrest, and he was subsequently tried by court-martial, found guilty of insubordination on parade and cashiered. At the same time, the Colonel was told that he must retire from the Service at once. It was said that, had Gilbert not thrown down his sword, matters would have turned out very differently, for the Colonel had behaved so outrageously that he would have been cashiered himself, that is to say, if anyone had had the courage to bring his conduct to the notice of his superiors; and, as the battalion was on the point of mutiny, this would probably have been done.

The 2nd Battalion, 10th Regiment, to the command of which my friend Byron had recently succeeded, had just arrived at Aldershot, and I was naturally delighted to see him again. He invited me to dine at the 10th’s mess, where I spent a most pleasant evening. During dinner, Byron said:—

“You were very foolish to leave us. If you had stayed, as you may remember I advised you to do, you would have had me for your C.O., and would have had a very easy time of it, and have been able to do as you pleased.”

He added that, in his opinion, there was no comparison between the two Rifle regiments, so far as the social position of officers serving in them was concerned, and that, from what he had heard, as his brother was a major in my regiment, but in a different battalion (He later commanded the 2nd Battalion), I was not only in the inferior regiment, but in its worst battalion, commanded by a chief about whom few people seemed to have a good word to say.

All this was only too true, and I could only reply that, had I been able to see a little into the future, I would certainly have remained with the 10th Regiment. It was unfortunate, too, my not being able to remain with the 2nd Battalion of the Rifles in India, as I liked them all very much.

In May, the German Crown Prince, who was on a visit to England, came down to Aldershot to inspect the troops. We could well have dispensed with the honour he did us, as it was a pouring wet day and bitterly cold, and by the time we got back to camp we were drenched to the skin. This experience, as may be supposed, did not do me any good, although I felt no ill effects at the time.

I was in town a good deal during the season, and went several times to the Opera, where I heard Patti in _Il Barbiere de Seviglia_, _Don Giovanni_, _Aïda_ and _Semiramide_, Albani in _Atala_, the Spanish tenor Gayarré in _Lucrezia Borgia_ and Jean de Reszke in _les Huguenots_. Early in July, my father came over to England, and I went with him to the Eton and Harrow match at Lord’s, where we lunched on Tom Hohler’s drag. Jim Doyne was in town, and I saw a good deal of him, and we often lunched and dined together. In fact, on my visits to London I generally contrived to have a very good time; but at Aldershot things were not so pleasant, and matters came to a head on the day my battalion was inspected by Brigadier-General Anderson.

The inspection passed off pretty satisfactorily. Each officer in succession was called up by the Brigadier and told to put his men through certain movements. The Brigadier found fault with two of the officers, and complained about them to the Colonel, who, however, assured him that on ordinary occasions their work was quite satisfactory. I was now in command of Allen’s company, and when my turn came, I had no difficulty in performing all the requisite movements, and was complimented by the Brigadier, who then turned to the Colonel and remarked:—

“I can find no fault with this officer; he knows his work better than some of the others.”

“I don’t know how it is, Sir,” replied the Chief, with difficulty concealing his annoyance, “but to-day he seems smarter than usual.”

The Colonel, it appeared, had made a very bad report on me to the General, which would have been sent to the War Office if the latter had confirmed it; but this the Brigadier told him he was quite unable to do. The Colonel then said that it was in looking after my company that I was deficient, to which his superior replied that he would see into the matter and send for us both in a day or two.

I had written to General Sir John Douglas, K.C.B., who commanded the Forces in Scotland, and had married a daughter of Earl Cathcart, complaining of my Chief’s treatment of me; and Sir John had written to Brigadier-General Anderson about me. It was owing to this that the latter watched me so carefully, in order to see if I were really so ignorant of my work as my Chief had represented, and, having satisfied himself to the contrary, he had decided to investigate my case further.

However, the Colonel, having got rid of Beauclerk and Allen, had now made up his mind to get rid of me also. Accordingly, he sent Major Northey to advise me to exchange into another battalion, as he was determined that I should not remain in his. The Major said that it was no good my trying to resist so obstinate a man as the Chief, and named an officer whom the Colonel was anxious to have in his battalion, who would probably be willing to exchange with me.

“You know what he is when he has once taken a dislike to anyone,” he added. “Remember Beauclerk’s case. If you will take my advice, you will communicate with the officer I have mentioned at once.”

I said that I would do as Major Northey advised, and wrote to the officer in question, who replied that, as he was short of money, he would only exchange in consideration of my paying him the sum of £300. He pointed out that his battalion was remaining in England, while mine would shortly be going on foreign service, and perhaps even on active service.

I may mention that some time before this I had been told by my cousin, Emily Cathcart, that I had a very good chance of being chosen as private secretary to the Duke of Argyll, who was then Governor of Canada; but eventually a relative of his was offered the post.

The Colonel, in the belief that I was about to exchange, now became quite amiable towards me. At times he would send Wilkinson, the Adjutant, to ascertain how matters were progressing, and I was not a little amused by the way in which Wilkinson, who did not wish me to suspect the object of his visit, would lead up to the subject.

The eccentricities of our Chief at this time caused the whole battalion great annoyance. It was an unusually hot summer, and he used to inspect us of a morning wearing mufti and holding a huge white umbrella over his head, a precaution which he explained by saying that he had had a touch of sun whilst serving in India. If this were really the case, it probably accounted for his constant outbursts of temper. At these inspections, he was accustomed to display the most exasperating solicitude about the men’s uniform, inspecting each man separately, and fingering every button to ascertain whether it were loose or not. This sort of thing, which could, of course, have been very well undertaken by the company commanders in barracks, instead of by the C.O. on parade, under a broiling sun, used sometimes to occupy hours, and was naturally very trying indeed to everyone.

One morning, towards the end of July, I was playing at single-stick with Holled-Smith, when I received rather a severe hit on the side, which made me feel so ill that I went to bed and sent for our surgeon, who told me that my liver, from which I had suffered so much in India, was affected. He made me remain in bed for several days, at the end of which I was well enough to return to duty.

A day or two later, I was told by the Adjutant that I had to go with him to Brigadier-General Anderson, and that the Colonel would be there. The General asked me several questions on military matters, all of which I answered correctly, and then requested the Colonel to tell him in what he found fault with me.

“I find that he does not pay sufficient attention to his duty,” answered my Chief.

“But,” observed the General, “you said first of all that he does not know his work, which I find not to be the case. Now you say that he does not pay sufficient attention to his duty; but I have inspected his company, and I do not find it in any way less well looked after than the other companies in your battalion. I really cannot agree with you in your opinion, and must make notes upon the report you have forwarded to me.”

The General then dismissed us, and I returned to my quarters, very relieved at the result of the interview.

The other officers were naturally very anxious to know what had happened, and, when I told them, all advised me to remain in the battalion, and not to exchange, saying that the Chief had shown himself to be in the wrong, and that the General, who was a first-rate officer, must have seen at once that it was nothing but spite on his part, for which he would no doubt severely reprimand him. Captain de Robeck, whose advice was nearly always worth following, said to me:—

“If you exchange, it will cost you £300, and I don’t think it is worth it. I should brave it out, were I in your place.”

The other officers told me the same, and declared that it would show great weakness on my part if I left the battalion.

As events turned out, I had no option in the matter, since my father, to whom I had written asking for the £300 I required to purchase my exchange, could not see his way just then to let me have the money, as he had been so robbed by a lawyer, a trustee. And so I had to “brave it out,” _bon gré, mal gré_, and to derive what consolation I might from the reflection that, after what had happened, I should probably have an easier time of it, and should no longer have to endure all the extra parades which the Chief had been in the habit of inflicting upon me.

Vain illusion! So far from being allowed a rest, I found that I had, if possible, more to do than ever, the Adjutant having apparently received orders from the Chief to give me all the extra work he could possibly find for me to do. And, even without these extra parades, the work in the hottest weeks of an exceptionally hot summer would have been quite heavy enough. Thorne, an old Etonian, an excellent young man, one of the nicest lieutenants in the regiment, advised me to ask for a Court of Inquiry, which he felt sure the General would approve of, and would very likely ask for himself, without my applying for one.

One night, Basil Montgomery, who had been in the 2nd Battalion with me in India, dined at our mess. He told me that he was on the point of going out to India again, as private secretary to his brother-in-law, the Duke of Buckingham, who was Governor of Madras. He added that he disliked India, and would prefer to be a crossing-sweeper in England than a prince out there, but that he was obliged to accept the post that had been offered him. However, he only remained about six months in India, as he did not hit it off with the Duke, who was a very difficult person indeed to get on with.

Towards the end of the season (through my cousin, Miss Anne Cathcart), I was asked by Herr Schultz, from whom the Princess of Wales was then taking lessons on the zither, to play at a concert which was to be given shortly at Marlborough House. I willingly consented and went up to town several times to practise for the concert, which, unhappily, I was to be prevented from taking part in.

For some time I had again been suffering from rheumatism, which affected my heart. I consulted Sir William Jenner, who warned me not to exert myself too much. But this advice I was unable to follow, as though the regimental surgeon made an application to the Chief for me to be excused some of the parades, it was at once refused.

One intensely hot day, we were kept on parade for a long while with nothing but our forage-caps to protect us from the scorching sun. Suddenly, I experienced the most excruciating pains in the head, and felt as if everything about me was turning round. This giddiness soon passed, but on coming off parade I felt very unwell. However, as I was orderly officer of the day, I performed everything that was required of me.

That evening at mess, where I was acting as vice-president, I suddenly turned to the officer on my left, one of the senior lieutenants, Thorne, and said:—

“I have lost the use of my right hand and foot!”

Thorne poured me out some brandy and told me to drink it off, but on trying afterwards to rise from my seat, I fell down. Thorne and another officer assisted me to my quarters, where, remembering that I had to turn out the guard, I tried to buckle on my sword, only to fall again. They then put me to bed, and sent for Surgeon Comerford, who at once declared that I was suffering from sunstroke. My father was telegraphed for, and, on his arrival, asked Surgeon-Major McCormack to visit me. The latter took so serious a view of the case, saying that I had but a few hours to live, that my father lost no time in calling in a London specialist, who said that my heart was in a bad way and that I must have had a sunstroke on parade. When I grew a little better, my father wished to take me to Paris, but the London doctor advised my not being moved for several weeks.

The Colonel, who was perhaps experiencing some twinges of remorse for the manner in which he had treated me, came to visit me and was very kind, sending me fruit and game. He had, however, previously dispatched Gunning to ascertain if I intended to resign my commission, as, in the event of my being placed on half-pay, the Colonel said the battalion might have a year or two to wait for my place to be filled up, and we were very short of officers. Besides this, Gunning was anxious himself to obtain my step in promotion, though he did not say so on this occasion.

I had several visitors while I was confined to my quarters, apart from my brother-officers. One day, Mrs. William Adair and her daughter came to see me, and were very surprised at finding me so ill, as only a few days before I had walked over from Aldershot to spend the day at their house at Whiteways End, a distance of six miles. Mrs. Adair, who was a grand-daughter of the Duke of Roxburghe, was considered one of the most beautiful women in England. Her daughter, who was then sixteen, was also extremely pretty, though of a very different type of beauty from her mother, being very fair. Mrs. Wellesley sent her little son “Cissy” to cheer me up several times, in which task he was very successful, as he was always most pleasant company.

It was some weeks before I was able to leave Aldershot, as I had almost entirely lost the use of my right arm and leg. The Colonel wanted me to be examined there by a Medical Board, consisting of Surgeon-Major McCormack and Surgeon Comerford, and, though several officers in my regiment advised me to have the Board held in London, he got his way in the matter. No one was supposed to know the result of the Board until it had been approved of by the War Office.

So soon as I was well enough to stand the journey, I went up to London, accompanied by my father and my soldier-servant, Spearing. On the advice of Dr. Russell-Reynolds, my father took me to Paris to consult Professor Charcot and Dr. Brown-Séquard, who at first held out some hopes of my recovery. The War Office had granted me three months’ leave, and, when it expired, as I had not recovered the use of my limbs, they refused to place me on half-pay, and on the 1st of January 1879, I was obliged to resign my commission. The reason they gave was that the Medical Board at Aldershot had stated that my illness was not caused in and by the Service.

The Earl of Berkeley, who wrote my letter of resignation from Paris for me, as I was unable to do so myself, said in this:—

“_In conformity with the instructions I received from the War Office, I have forwarded my resignation to the officer in command of my battalion. I had ventured to hope that a certificate I forwarded to the Colonel of the regiment from one of the most eminent consulting physicians in Paris, stating that my illness was the result of sunstroke, might have pleaded my cause with H.R.H. the Commander-in-Chief. I have another certificate which I have not under the circumstances taken the liberty of forwarding to you, but I would gladly do so, if I thought my case might be pleaded with H.R.H._”

A further letter, also written for me by Lord Berkeley, was sent to my Colonel:—

“_Although I have the opinion of the most eminent physicians that my unfortunate illness was the result of sunstroke sustained when on duty, I yield to the decision of the Field-Marshal Commander-in-Chief, and hereby tender my resignation of H.M. Service._”

General Sir John Douglas, then commanding the Forces in Scotland, wrote to me:

“_I have found out, through General Taylor (79th Highlanders), at the War Office, that it is through your Colonel’s influence that they have refused to place you on half-pay, and it is quite impossible to overcome this influence._”

A year or two afterwards, I happened to meet Surgeon Comerford in London, when I reproached him for not mentioning my sunstroke at the Medical Board at Aldershot. He assured me that he was prepared to swear on the Bible that he had done so, adding that my Colonel could not have forwarded his report correctly to the War Office, or else I should have been placed on half-pay. He had fully expected that I should have been, and was surprised that such was not the case.

I may here mention that there were only two medical officers on the Board: Surgeon-Major McCormack and Surgeon Comerford. The former had only seen me once before in his life, so I presume the report must have been written by Surgeon Comerford; but, as I have never seen the report, I cannot be quite certain.

Captain Howard Vyse, late of the “Blues,” said to me in Paris, when I showed him a letter which I had received from the War Office:—

“Thank God! such a thing could not happen with the Household troops. The officers would not allow it either. To lose one’s health in the Service, and then to receive no compensation whatever! I never heard of such a case; it is simply disgraceful!”

In recent years—in 1909—several officers who had served with me, including my Colonel, the late General Sir W. Leigh-Pemberton, forwarded letters to the War Office, stating that they remembered my sunstroke at Aldershot as being the cause of my paralysis,[26] and I forwarded medical certificates to prove that my paralysis was the result of sunstroke while on duty there. The reply received by General Sir H. Geary, K.C.B., was that the Army Council had made an inquiry, and that “no evidence can be traced to show that he sustained a sunstroke while on duty at Aldershot in August, 1878. In any case, it would seem practically impossible to prove that his present disability was the outcome of illness contracted in and by the Service more than thirty years ago. Not only the absence of confirmatory records, but the whole procedure at the time is out of keeping with the theory that his resignation was due to illness caused by military duty.”

Sir William Gull, under whose treatment I was for some years, in the early eighties, told me that my paralysis was caused by embolism, owing to the sunstroke at Aldershot in 1878, adding that he had a very bad opinion of Army doctors in general, who were constantly making dreadful mistakes, and indeed, were no better than the doctors mentioned by Lesage in _Gil Blas_.

In 1918, Field-Marshal Lord Grenfell, who was formerly in the 1st Battalion of my old regiment, had great hopes of obtaining a pension or retired pay for me from the War Office, but so far his most kind efforts on my behalf have been fruitless. It would appear that philosophy is not at all studied at the War Office, for they persist in maintaining that it is possible for the same thing to be and not to be, which is contrary to the ideas of the most abstruse philosophers. With regard to the Ministry of Pensions (whose Secretary is Sir Matthew Nathan), above its portals ought to be written “Lasciate ogni Speranza.” It is to be hoped that with Mr. Winston Churchill, the author of “Savrola,” as Secretary of State for War, some ideas of justice may be imparted to both of them. I hope so, not only for my own sake, but for that of the whole Army.

THE END

FOOTNOTES

[1] I heard from the late Lady Ritchie, Thackeray’s daughter, some little time before her death. She was kind enough to be interested in this book, but told me that she was a young girl when her father was at Homburg and had scarcely any recollection of those days. My father used often to observe that Thackeray was one of the most charming and amusing men he ever knew, and seemed surprised when I told him that I remembered so little of him at Homburg, saying that he was nearly always with us at the Kursaal or in the grounds of the Kurhaus and was exceedingly fond of me.

[2] Henry Greville writes in his diary, under date October 12th, 1846: “Came to Worsley with Slade, found here party assembled to meet the Duchess of Gloucester. Lady Caroline Murray was in attendance on the Duchess, who is the most amiable and least troublesome Princess it is possible to see.”

One day a very nervous lady called on the Duchess of Gloucester, a daughter of George III., and remained a long time, being under the impression that Her Royal Highness would give the signal when she wished her to withdraw, and fearing to commit a breach of etiquette if she rose before the duchess. However, after a very long time, Her Royal Highness rose and left the room, upon which the lady retired. The latter was in great distress when she was subsequently told of the mistake she had made. This incident was related to me by my mother, who was acquainted with the lady at the time.

I may perhaps mention here an incident about Queen Adelaide, wife of William IV., who had a very slight acquaintance with the English language. One of the first sentences she learned by heart was: “How are you off for soap?” Her Majesty was so pleased at being able to speak a little English that she asked this question of every lady whom she happened to address, smiling amiably the while. Some of them were rather astounded, but there was a certain fascination in this phrase which took Her Majesty’s fancy, and it may be that the look of surprise on the faces of some of the old dowagers added to her delight and made her repeat it all the more. This anecdote was told me by a lady who had known Queen Adelaide personally and was often with her.

[3] In after years, at Aldershot, I knew the late General Lord C——, son of the above mentioned Lady C——, very well. Once, at a concert, I played a piece of music on the zither, for which I received an encore, but a string of the instrument having broken, had to be replaced before I could take it. Lord C—— was kind enough to make a short speech for me and explain to the large audience what had happened, as I did not feel equal to doing so myself. He was a most kind and affable man and a good general, though the War Office, with their usual _manque de tact_, blamed him in the Zulu War for the faults of others as well, whose errors they wished to conceal. But, as General von Goeben, the celebrated Prussian general of division in the Franco-German War of 1870, said to me at Seville, where I lived in the same _casa de huespedes_ with him for some weeks, _à propos_ of an affair of another kind: “What can you expect from a Secretary of State for War, who is a civilian. You might just as well have an old washerwoman (_Wäscherin_) at the head of your War Office. She might perhaps even be more useful.”

[4] Count Perponcher always selected the ballet dancers for the Opera in Berlin. Many years ago I made the acquaintance at Milan of a lovely, fair Polish girl, Marie Urbanska by name, who was studying dancing there, and danced occasionally in the ballet at La Scala. She was then sixteen, and during her stay at Milan, all her expenses were paid by Count Perponcher. The Emperor William always called her “the little Countess” (_die Kleine Gräfin_), as her father was a Polish count, and she was still second _danseuse_ at the Berlin Opera twelve years ago. One night, as she was ascending the stairs at the Villa Manzoni, where I too was staying, she was seized and gagged and conveyed to the house of a gentleman, who told her that he was in love with her. But she insisted on leaving the house, which he allowed her to do. The man in question, who was a German, was obliged to leave Milan, in consequence of this affair, which, however, was hushed up, as he came of a well-known family in Germany.

[5] The late Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild told a young English girl of sixteen whom I knew that, if he could by some means regain his youth, like Faust in Goethe’s play, and be the same age as she was, he would willingly give up his entire fortune. He was then about fifty-four years of age. When the young lady in question repeated this to a late member of the Turf Club in my presence, the latter observed: “Ferdy must have set a high value on his youth, for I asked him to let me have £200 lately for a common friend who was at school with us and is now ruined, which he refused to do. Consequently, I have quarrelled with him for ever.”

[6] _À propos_ of Napoleon, it is strange how great was his fondness for music. A person whose voice flattered his ear rarely displeased him. But, if a name had a harsh sound, he muttered it between his teeth, and never uttered it aloud. Grillparzer says of Napoleon: “Er war zu gross, weil seine Zeit zu klein.” (“He was too great, because the age in which he lived was too little.”) Napoleon imagined that he would have made Corneille a prince if he had lived in his time, but it is more likely that he would have imprisoned him for life.

[7] The late Henry Labouchere’s grandfather was, as a young man, a clerk in a bank in Somersetshire, and in receipt of a salary of about £80 a year, when he fell in love with Sir Francis Baring’s daughter. As, in ordinary circumstances, he had not the smallest chance of obtaining the consent of the lady’s father, he conceived the following ingenious plan of overcoming the difficulty.

Presenting himself before the senior partner of the bank in which he was employed, he inquired whether it would be possible for him to become a partner forthwith. The banker burst out laughing. “What, you!” he exclaimed. “Why, you are only a junior clerk. How can you ever think of such a thing? The idea is simply ridiculous.” “But supposing,” rejoined Labouchere, with perfect aplomb, “that I had already received the consent of Sir Francis Baring to marry his daughter?” “Oh, that alters the case entirely. If what you say is true, then you could, of course, easily become a partner.” Labouchere then approached Sir Francis Baring and asked him for his daughter’s hand. That important personage was even more indignant at the young man’s presumption than the banker had been, and told him what he thought of it very plainly. “But supposing,” said Labouchere, not a whit disconcerted, “that I am not what you think I am, but a partner of the bank.” The baronet’s manner changed. “If,” he answered, “you are a partner of the bank, as you tell me, I will talk the matter over with my daughter.” In the result, Labouchere married Sir Francis Baring’s daughter and became, at the same time, a partner in the Somersetshire bank. His son was created Lord Taunton, and Henry Labouchere would have been heir to the title, but, as it was only a life peerage, it did not descend to him. This anecdote was related to me by an uncle of mine by marriage, who was Clerk of the Peace for the county of Somerset. I have heard it also related by others.

[8] Desseins Hôtel has been demolished in recent years. It was a most luxurious hôtel, and is mentioned in the works of Sterne, Thackeray and Dickens.

[9] Godfrey Astell told me a rather amusing story about himself when I was in the regiment with him. He had been invited to shoot over a large estate in Scotland, and one of the gamekeepers looked particularly well after him all day, pointing out where the best beats and coverts were, and exclaiming every time a pheasant rose: “Godfrey, now’s your chance!” It subsequently transpired that the man, on hearing Astell called Godfrey by his friends, was under the impression that this was some high title he possessed, having no idea that it was only his Christian name.

[10] I had a letter before the war from Mr. Winston Churchill, Lord Randolph’s son, in answer to one in which I had told him that, in certain respects, he reminded me of Mirabeau, and that I was convinced that he would become Prime Minister before very long.

[11] I heard from Lord Willoughby de Broke, the son of the one mentioned here, some years ago. He was then _en route_ for the Caucasus, and he told me that he had read my book on Paris and Vienna with pleasure and interest, though he was not aware at the time by whom it was written. He is one of the most energetic members of the House of Lords, and it is to be hoped that he will do everything in his power to recover for it its lost prestige.

[12] Grillparzer says that it has often struck him that Shakespeare took some of his ideas from Lope de Vega’s plays. Shakespeare’s Miranda, he says, could be compared with the character it resembles in _Los tres diamantes_, and the love-scenes in the latter are quite on a par with those in “Romeo and Juliet.” The plot of “The Merry Wives of Windsor” is similar to that of _Los ferias de Madrid_. As for _Los pleitos de Inglaterra_, he regards this play as incomparable, and the love-scenes in “Romeo and Juliet” appear almost to pale in comparison. “I wish,” he continues, “Lessing had known Calderon and Lope de Vega. He would perhaps have found that there was more connection with the German _esprit_ than in the far too gigantic Shakespeare. Perhaps “Macbeth” is Shakespeare’s greatest work; it is without doubt the most realistic.”

[13] During the four years I was at Eton, we won the “Ladies’” at Henley every time. The winning crews were composed as follows:—

1867: W. D. Benson (captain), A. G. P. Lewis (stroke), T. McClintock-Bunbury, W. G. Calvert, J. H. Ridley, R. W. Morehouse, G. H. Woodhouse, J. E. Edwards-Moss, F. H. Elliot (cox).

1868: T. McClintock-Bunbury (captain and stroke), W. C. Calvert, J. E. Edwards-Moss, F. A. Currey, J. Goldie (K.S.), F. Johnstone, J. W. McClintock-Bunbury, W. Farrer, F. E. Elliot (cox).

1869: J. E. Edwards-Moss (captain), F. A. Currey, F. Johnstone, J. W. McClintock-Bunbury (stroke), F. C. Ricardo, J. S. Follett, F. E. H. Elliot, M. G. Farrer, W. C. Cartwright (cox).

1870: F. A. Currey (captain), J. W. McClintock-Bunbury (stroke), F. C Ricardo, J. S. Follett, A. W. Mulholland, C. W. Benson, R. E. Naylor, A. C. Yarborough, W. C. Cartwright (cox).

[14] The Eton Eleven, during the four years I was there, was composed as follows:

1867: C. R. Alexander (captain), C. I. Thornton, W. H. Walrond, H. M. Walter, W. C. Higgins, C. J. Ottaway, W. F. Tritton, M. Horner, W. H. Hay, E. Wormald, P. Currey. Match drawn.

1868: C. I. Thornton (captain), H. M. Walter, W. C. Higgins, C. J. Ottaway, W. F. Tritton, W. H. Hay, P. Currey, Hon. G. Harris, J. Maude, S. E. Butler, G. H. Longman. Harrow beat Eton by seven wickets.

1869: W. C. Higgins (captain), G. H. Longman, A. S. Tabor, F. W. Rhodes, F. Pickering, J. P. Rodger, Lord Clifton, C. J. Ottaway, M. Maude, Hon. G. Harris, E. Butler. Eton won by an innings and nineteen runs.

1870: Hon. G. Harris (captain), G. H. Longman, A. S. Tabor, F. W. Rhodes, F. Pickering, J. P. Rodger, Lord Clifton, G. H. Cammell, M. A. Tollemache, A. F. Ridley, Hon. A. Lyttelton. Eton won by twenty-one runs.

[15] _À propos_ of Peterborough, I once heard a good story about a Bishop of Peterborough—Dr. Magee, I think—which was told me by my tutor at Eton. Some people, who had never seen him, were very anxious to hear him preach and therefore went early in the morning to the cathedral to secure good seats. A man showed them over the cathedral, where they retained the best seats they could find, and, on leaving, one of the party gave their cicerone, whom they took for the verger, five shillings. The latter put the money in his pocket, and then to their astonishment said: “I am not the verger, but the Bishop of Peterborough himself. However, I shall keep the five shillings all the same, for I have found you a good pew, and what I have received I shall give to the poor.”

[16] The Hon. Thomas Fitzwilliam, who was then in the 10th Hussars, married Elgiva Kinglake, whose brother was at Eton with me. She was very pretty and a remarkably good rider, but she died quite early in life, and her husband did not long survive her. She was a great friend of Mary, Duchess of Hamilton, and I remember once, at a meet of the Devon and Somerset Staghounds on the Exmoor hills, being much struck by the beauty of the Duchess, who was present with Elgiva Fitzwilliam, for they always hunted with these hounds in those days.

[17] Jim Doyne, in later years, bore some resemblance to the late King Edward VII., then Prince of Wales, and at Pratt’s, one evening, the late Duke of Beaufort walked up to him, and, holding out his hand, said: “I wish you good evening, sir.” Doyne felt very flattered at the mistake, which, however, the Duke at once discovered. Nevertheless, when meeting my friend afterwards, he would always address him as “Sir” for amusement, and Doyne, who had a gift for repartee, would give an appropriate reply.

[18] Voltaire believed sincerely in God, but no one nowadays even thinks of reading his correspondence, which shows us all his faults, his kindheartedness, his charity, and his other good qualities. One of the strongest features in Voltaire’s character was his sense of friendship. Génonville, who took away his mistress, Mlle. Livy, from him, remained his friend, and Voltaire laments his death in a poem of marvellous beauty, with all the warmth of truth. This poem and the one which follows it, _les Vous et le Tu_, in which also Mlle. Livy is referred to, are two of his most beautiful poems. Of Rousseau, Grillparzer says: “I read _les Confessions_ and am terrified to recognize myself in them.” How Rousseau would have been surprised if someone had called him the most perfect egoist. He lived with the woman who was so devoted to him and never married her, although it would have been a great happiness to her to bear his name. Corneille, according to Grillparzer, was an excellent poet, and his first works were admirable, but his later ones show a steady decline from his early standard, which is difficult to explain, except perhaps after reading his tragedy, _Feodora_. In Grillparzer’s opinion, Racine was as great a poet as ever lived.

[19] “My darling,—I am obliged to start immediately for Mexico; I have not even time to come to bid thee good-bye.”

[20] Mr. Howard Vyse, the father of these young men, came to see me in Paris after I had left Bonn. He dined with us, I recollect, and we afterwards went to a theatre, and from there to various places of amusement, so that it was nearly daybreak before we reached the Hôtel Bristol, in the Place Vendôme, where he was staying, and where he insisted on my passing what remained of the night. As he offered me an exceedingly comfortable bedroom, I did not refuse. I dined a few days later with him and his wife at the “Bristol,” where they had a suite of apartments usually reserved for royal personages, which the late King Edward VII. had occupied just previously. While we were at dinner a courier came into the room to inquire if everything were satisfactory. This man’s services, it appeared, had been exclusively engaged by Mr. Howard Vyse, and he was accustomed to order dinner and settle the accounts. Mr. Howard Vyse told me that he was obliged to remain three months at the Hôtel Bristol owing to his wife’s state of health, as the doctor would not allow her to travel to Nice, where he intended spending the winter. He was a very wealthy banker from New York, and the two sons who were at Bonn with me were his only children.

[21] The sister of Sir Howard Elphinstone, at one time Equerry to the late Duke of Edinburgh, related to me that, when she was in Germany with her brother, they went one day to secure places for some ceremony in which a good many royal persons were interested. When they entered the room, a man showed Sir Howard Elphinstone the places reserved for him and his family, and as this person wore a kind of dress coat with gold lace, Sir Howard took him for a man-servant, and, on going away, slipped a thaler into his hand, which he accepted without making any remark. Later in the evening, Sir Howard and his sister discovered that the man whom they had tipped was Bismarck, who at that time, of course, was not so celebrated as he subsequently became.

[22] Darwin’s theory has of recent years been disproved by men of science, such as Professor Dr. von Wettstein, Warning, Henslow, and others. Only in certain instances can Darwin’s theory be accepted; but it has been discovered recently that the new formation of species among plants and animals is possible in different ways, and not only in the manner Darwin implies. His theory of descent, which was firmly believed in by men of science in the sixties and seventies of the last century, is now pronounced to be a theory altogether out of date, and has been superseded by those of Moriz Wagner, Karl von Nägeli, Henslow, A. von Kerner and Professor A. Weissmann. “The Origin of Plant Structures by Self-Adaptation to the Environment,” by Henslow, published in 1895, and Warning’s “Geography of Plants,” published in the following year, are well-known English books on this subject which may be recommended to those interested in it.

[23] Baron von der Goltz is proud of his stupidity.

[24] Grillparzer says of Heine that his first verses in the _Reise Bilder_ and some of his last poems are of great merit, while those of the intermediate period must be considered decidedly bad.

[25] Another lady employed by the Russian Government to worm out State secrets was the Countess Stadnicka, whose acquaintance I made in recent years in Vienna, and she would often ask me the most difficult questions, which I never attempted to answer. She told me that for information of a certain nature she was often paid very large sums. The Countess Stadnicka had very lovely blue eyes, which were universally admired, and a fine figure, but she was no longer in her first youth. She was the mother of Graf von Metternich, who was the owner of vast estates and a minor, and the Countess had a lawsuit in Vienna to obtain control over her son’s property during his minority. She was a wonderful linguist, speaking English, French, German, Italian and Russian fluently, and could tell one more about the Austrian nobility than anyone else I ever met in Vienna, as she was a Viennese by birth, and her father, who was one of the old nobility himself, had occupied a high position. She seemed to know everyone, but though a woman of wonderful intelligence, she had a rather spiteful tongue, and was therefore feared by some people. She always spoke to me in French and often said: “_Vous êtes drôle, vous, car vous n’aimez que le fruit pas mûr, ce qui est d’abord très fade et n’a point de goût_.”

[26] The names of these officers were: The late Lieut.-General Sir W. Leigh-Pemberton, K.C.B.; Major-General Sir Charles Holled-Smith, K.C.M.G.; Colonel Ernest Hovell Thurlow; Major C. H. B. Thorne, J.P.; Lieut. Horace Neville; Colonel Alfred Clarke, M.D., and Major C. de Robeck.

INDEX

Aberdour, Lord, 108.

Adair, Mrs. William, 269.

Adelaide, Queen, 5 (_note_).

Adelsdorfer, Baroness, 146.

Adelsdorfer, Madame, 244.

Airey, Lord, 222.

Albani, 116, 244, 263.

Aldershot, 246.

Allfrey, Lieutenant, 223.

Algar, Major, 191.

Alhambra, The, Granada, 258.

Alexander, C. R., 66, 81.

Alison, General Sir A., 181.

Allen, Lieutenant, 223, 234, 247.

Anderson, Brigadier-General, 264, 266.

Andrä, Professor Dr., 124, 128.

Andrews, Mrs., 218.

Anglesey, Marquis of, 148.

Annesley, Lieutenant-Colonel, 176.

Armytage, Lieutenant, 205, 207.

Arnold, Dr., 242.

Arthy, Captain, 34.

Ashburnham, Major, 191.

Astor, Lord, 90.

Auerbach, Berthold, 129.

Aylmer, Percy, 93.

Babington, Sub-Lieutenant, 183.

Bagot, Colonel Sir Josceline, 101.

Bagot, Adjutant A. G., 227, 247.

Baird, George, 93.

Baldock, Colonel, 82.

Balfour, Charles, 81.

Balfour, Miss Hilda, 81.

Baring, Viscount, 182, 242.

Barnard, Lord, 98.

Batchelor, Veterinary-Surgeon, 205, 208, 213.

Bean, Capt. and Mrs., 133.

Beauclerk, Lieutenant, 186.

Beauclerk, Miss, 143.

Beaumont, Sub-Lieutenant, 206.

Beck, Lieutenant, 236.

Belgrave, Viscount, 76.

_Bell’s Life_ substitute for Bible, 47.

Bennett, Viscount, 235.

Bentheim, The Princes, 127.

Benyon, Captain, 206.

Berkeley, Earl of, 165.

Berkeley, Lord, 245.

Berkeley, Captain Lennox, 57, 59, 112, 113, 147, 157.

Bernhardt, Sarah, 229.

Bernstorff, Count, 126.

Bethell, Lieutenant, 169.

Bingham, Hon. Albert, 161, 260.

Binz, Professor Dr., 123.

Black Forest Adventures, 22.

Blane, M., 9.

Blewitt, Major, 176.

Blocqueville, Marquise de, 158.

Blount, Edward, 110.

Bois-Hébert, Marquis de, 161, 164.

Boland, Major, 110.

Bonn, 123.

Boulogne, 37.

Bozzo, Mademoiselle Checchi, 245.

Bromley, Capt., 33.

Brown-Séquard, Dr., 270.

Browning, Oscar, 74.

Brownrigg, Capt., 242.

Burgh, Capt. Hubert de, 161.

Byron, Capt. John, 172, 179, 263.

Cambridge, Duke of, 250.

Campden, Viscount, 215.

Campobello, Signor, 156.

Candle, The diminishing, 209.

Cantelupe, Lord, 143.

Caracciolo, Duchesse de, 143.

Card playing, 176.

Carpenter, Captain, 225.

Cartwright, General, 180.

Cathcart, Lady Georgina, 83.

Cathcart, Hon. Emily, 83, 84, 265.

Cavendish-Bentinck, Arthur, 93.

Cercle des Patineurs, 57.

Chantilly, 163.

Charcot, Professor, 270.

Charleville, Lord, 51.

Charltons, The, 173, 179, 236.

Chatham Barracks, 175.

Childe-Pemberton, Lieutenant, 241.

“Christopher Inn,” 86.

Christy Minstrels at Chatham, 227.

Churchill, Lady, 85.

Churchill, Lord Randolph, 46.

Clanmorris, Lord, 161.

Clarke, Sydenham, 191, 212.

Clarke, Surgeon-Major, 250.

Cockshot, Mr., 73.

Collins, Major, 225.

Combermere, Viscount, 235.

Comerford, Surgeon, 268.

Cotton, Lieutenant C. S., 222, 234, 249.

Cramer, Captain, 223.

Craven, Fulwar J. C., 68, 82, 93.

Crawford, Colonel, 148.

Crichton, Hon. Mrs., 249.

Crofton, Lieutenant, 235.

Crompton, Captain, 214, 215.

Czartoryski, Princess, 140.

Czerwinska, Countess, 137.

d’Abrantès, Duchesse, 157.

Dalton, Rev. W., 73.

Dannecker’s statue, 14.

Daram, Mademoiselle, 152.

Darwin’s theory disproved, 131.

d’Assailly, Vicomte Arthur, 146, 213, 246.

d’Attainville, M. de Lesquier, 137.

D’Aubigny, Comte, 37.

Daudet, Alphonse, 245.

d’Aumale, Duc, 163.

Deane, Lieutenant-Colonel, 250.

de Houghton, 178.

Delaunay, 182.

Delbrück, Hans, 135.

Desart, Countess of, 6.

Desclée, Aimée, 179.

Dickenson, Lieutenant Fiennes, 192.

Dillon, Lord, 116.

Dillon, Sub-Lieutenant A., 173, 179, 181, 225.

Disraeli, 55.

Dorrien, Captain Frederick, 4, 27, 113.

Douglas, General Sir John, 31, 264.

Douglas, Captain Niel, 86, 264.

Douglas, Charles, 88.

Doyne, Lady Frances, 105.

Doyne, James, 66, 74, 77, 79, 80, 81, 88, 93, 101, 103, 109, 136, 238, 241.

Doyne, Mrs., 104.

Doyne, Mr. Mervyn, 105.

Drexel Brothers, 17.

“Dry bobs,” 88.

Duff, Folliot, 150.

Dunn, Captain, 169.

Durnford, Rev., 73.

Dusauty, 147.

Earning a living, 233.

Edwards-Moss, 100.

Egerton, Hon. Alfred, 250.

Ehnn, Fräulein, 231.

Elwes, Captain, 37.

Erroll, Countess of, 84.

Eschenheimer Thor, The, 13.

Eton, Happy days at, 65 _et seq._

Etonian _cachet_, 63.

Eugene, 199, 208.

Falmouth, Lord, 250.

Faverney, Comtesse de, 157.

Featherstone, Lieutenant, 239.

Ferrières, Château de, 162.

Finch, Hon. Charles, 83.

Finch-Hatton, Rev. William, 47.

Finch-Hatton, Greville, 42, 48.

Finis, Miss, 225.

Fire burning for two hundred years, 98.

Firing the eighty-ton gun, 239.

FitzWilliam, Earl, 106.

FitzWilliam, Charles, 107.

FitzWilliam, Hon. John, 77.

FitzWilliam, Hon. Thomas, 107.

Foley, Lieutenant, 236.

Football “colours,” 88.

Four millionaires, 16.

Francisco-Martin, M. de, 151.

Franco-German War, 110.

Frankfurt-on-the-Main, 1, 12.

Frederick, Lady, 241.

French girls and English girls, 140.

Gambetta, 166.

Gayarré, 263.

Geary, General Sir H., 271

German Crown Prince, 263.

German girls, 133.

Gilbert, Lieutenant, 262.

Girard, Juliette, 246.

Glen, Archibald, 178.

Godfrey, Dan, 240.

Goeben, General von, 255.

Goethe, 15.

Goldschmid, 10, 15.

Goldsmid, Mrs., 143.

Goltz, von der, 132.

Gordon, Miss, 112.

Græme, Colonel, 236.

Grammont, Duchesse de, 143.

Grandmaison, Marquis de, 160.

Grant, General, 166.

Graves, Hon. Mrs., 143.

Greenock, Viscount, 42.

Grenfell, Lord, 272.

Greuze’s paintings, 60.

Gridley, Harry, 80, 87.

Gridley, Reginald, 93.

Griebel, Herr, 92.

Grosvenor, Earl, 76.

Guilbert, Marquise Brian de Bois, 156, 157.

Gull, Sir William, 272.

Gunning, Sub-Lieutenant Robert, 223, 237.

Hale, Mr., 73.

Harris, Lord, 82.

Hart, Lieutenant, 205.

Hartopp, Sir Charles E. C., 117.

Havre, Baron van, 165.

Hawtrey, Mr. Stephen, 73.

Headley, Lord, 117.

Healy, Mrs., 116.

Heaviside, Mr., 254.

Hélène de España, Señorita, 259.

Henley Regatta, 94.

Herbert, Hon. Sidney, 82.

Hobart, Captain, 205.

Hochberg, Dr. Ritter von, 218.

Hodgson, Charles Rice, 77.

Hohler, Tom, 38, 245.

Holled-Smith, Lieutenant, 223.

Homburg, 4.

Home-Purves, Colonel, 49.

Hope, Lieutenant, 210.

Hope-Johnstone, Lieutenant P., 233.

Hornby, Dr., 87, 100.

Horrocks, Capt., 126.

Horrocks, Miss Edith, 134.

Houghton, de, 178.

Howard, Lieut. F., 241.

Hozier, J. H. C., 99.

Hudson, Major, 177.

Hudson, Mrs., 11.

Hungerford, Mrs., 244.

Hunter, Captain, 236.

Hunter’s, Mr., school, 42 _et seq._

Hutchinson, Sir Edward, 7.

Hutchinson, General Coote, 7.

Ind, Mrs., 29.

Innes-Ker, Lord Mark, 86.

Isabella, ex-Queen of Spain, 244.

Isabelle, 141.

James, Rev. C. C., 63.

Jenner, Sir William, 269.

Joynes, Rev., 73.

Kennedy, Lord Alexander, 84.

Keogh, Mrs., 244.

Kernave, Madame Alice, 164.

Killarney, 104.

Kilmaine, Vicomte Frédéric de, 136.

Kineton School, 28, 42.

King (Leopold) of Belgians, 32.

King William I. of Prussia, 1, 3, 7.

Kinglake, William, 88.

Kinglake, Sophia, 112.

Kinloch, Captain A., 187-8.

Kinloch, Mrs., 187, 205.

Kirchhofer’s, Herr, School, 18.

Kisilieff, Madame, 11.

Klenck, Freiherr von, 218.

Knightley, Rev. Henry, 50.

Knox, Lieutenant-Colonel, 170.

Krauss, Madame, 245.

Labitzky, Auguste, 219.

Labouchere, Henry, 30.

Lamoury (violinist), 110.

Lane, General Ronald, 159.

Lassalle, Ferdinand, and German women, 63.

Laval, Mademoiselle de, 141.

Lavaile, Eugénie de, 246.

Lawn tennis, Origin of, 192.

Lawrence, George, 37.

Leigh, Austin, 72.

Leigh-Pemberton, Lieutenant-Colonel W., 222, 271.

Leinster, Duke of, 109.

Leleu, Madame, 143.

Leopold II. and his hairdresser, 32.

Lesseps, M. de, 184.

Lewinsky, 230.

Leyton’s at Windsor, 92.

Liegnitz, Princess, 7.

Linda, Bertha, 231.

Lister-Kaye, Cecil, 82, 98.

Lister-Kaye, John, 82, 95, 98.

Little, Lieutenant, 210.

Lloyd, Lieutenant, 178.

Lockwood, Sir Frank, 124.

Lonsdale, Earl of, 49.

“Lord’s,” 96.

Lovell, Lieutenant, 170-172.

Lovett, Hubert, 192, 194, 199, 203, 210, 212, 242.

Lowther, Captain Francis, 166.

Lumley, Savile, 250.

Luxmoore, Mr., 67.

Lyons, Lord, 60.

McCall, Colonel, 163.

McClintock-Bunbury, 100.

McCormack, Surgeon-Major, 268.

MacDonnell, Dr., 105.

Macnamara, Surgeon-Major, 194, 210, 242.

Magruder, Willing Lee, 12.

Makart, 231.

Malet, Sir Edward, 117.

Malortie, Baron de, 144.

Maltby, Lieutenant, 169.

Mandeville, Lord, 77, 98.

Manners, Henry F. B., 99.

Marsham, Sub-Lieutenant, 208.

Masini, Mademoiselle, 245.

Massey, Lieutenant-Colonel, 206.

Materna, Frau, 231.

Ménier, 138.

Metternich, Princess von, 117.

Meux, Lady Louisa, 156.

Milbanke, Frederick, 28.

Misa, Señor, 258.

Mitchell, R. A. H., 74.

Moltke, Count von, 131.

Montgomery, Colonel H. P., 190.

Montgomery, Basil, 183, 267.

Moore, Colonel Montgomery, 188, 202.

Morny, Duc de, 7.

Münchhausen, Baron von, 256.

Murray, Lady Caroline, 5, 40.

Murray, Lieutenant-General Hon. George, 55.

Murree and Ischl compared, 201.

Musard’s concerts, 58.

Nares, Sir George, 241.

Naylor-Leylands, 161.

Neii, Baron von, 12.

Neuss, Herr, 229, 230.

New hats for old, 158.

Newcastle, Duke of, 38.

Newcastle, Duchess of, 246.

Newenham, Mr. (“Sporting Parson”), 47, 49.

Newlands, Lord, 99.

Northey, Major, 224, 265.

Oden Wald, The, 18.

Olga, Grand Duchess, and Ludwig II., 30.

Onslow, Earl of, 82.

Oppenheim, Frau, 239.

Orloff, Princess, 31.

Orton, Surgeon-Major, 254.

Ostend, 28, 31.

Oyster, The, 193.

Paganini, 157.

Paget, Lord Henry, 37, 148, 252.

Paradhenia, Garden of, 185.

Paris, 116.

Parnell, Hon. V. A., 99.

Parnell, Miss Fanny, 153.

Parry, Sir Hubert, 82.

Paschinger, 232.

Patti, Adelina, 54, 58, 263.

Pauli, Captain, 191.

Peabody Georges, 134.

Pembroke and Montgomery, Earl of, 82.

Peñafiel, Marchioness de, 151.

“Penny Readings,” 172.

Perponcher, Count, 8.

Peterborough’s, Bishop of, “tip,” 107.

Phipps, Hon. Harriet, 84.

Phipps, Lieutenant Albert, 196, 210, 211.

Piétri, Madame, 140.

Piétris, The, 161.

Plater, Countess Broel, 138.

Plessen, Baron von, 135.

Portman, Hon. E. W. B., 79.

Prince Consort and Duchess of Sutherland, 56.

Prussia, King of, 1, 3, 7, 17.

Queñones de Léon, Doña, 250.

Radziwill, Prince Jean, 137.

Ralli, Augustus, 93.

Rampa, Marquis de, 256.

Rathdonnell, Lord, 100.

Ranyard, Mr. (astronomer), 123

Reeves, Sims, 116.

Reid, Lieutenant, 216.

Reszke, Jean de, 264.

Reuss, Prince, 126.

Rey, Marquis de, 158.

Reynardson, Aubrey Birch, 48

Ricardo, Horace, 100.

Riddell, Captain, 29.

Ridley, C. N., 96.

Ridley, H. M., 95.

Riggs, Mrs. Joe, 39.

Ritter, 231.

Robartes (11th Hussars), 237.

Robeck, Captain de, 226.

Robinson, Captain, 223, 243, 247.

Ronalds, Mrs., 3, 17.

Rossmore, Lord, 86.

Rothschild, Baron F. de, 14.

Rothschild, Baroness I. E. de, 217.

Rothschild, Alphonse de, 162.

Rueff, Mr., 258.

Ruspoli, Princess, 39.

Russell, Sub-Lieutenant, 206.

Russell-Reynolds, Dr., 270.

Russian Court secrets, 138.

Rutland, Duke of, 99.

Saba, Madame, 152.

St. James’s Palace, 240.

Saint Hilaire, Madame, 164.

Salis Schwabe, Miss, 123.

Salud, 255.

Salvini, 244.

San Carlos, Marquis de, 252.

Sanford, Sub-Lieutenant, 193.

Savile, Captain, 236.

Seville, Archbishop of, 256.

Saxe-Weimar, Prince Edward of, 250.

Schiller, 14.

Schneider, Hortense, 56.

Schultz, Herr, 268.

Schwender’s Dancing Hall, 231.

Shorncliffe, Quarters at, 168.

Sighicelli, 165.

Simon, Jules, 111.

Sivori, 245.

Slade, Cecil, 140.

Slade, Harry, 38.

Smythe, General, 248.

“Sock”-shops, 87, 88.

Somerset, Lord Edward, 73, 92, 250.

Southey, Lieutenant Richard, 168.

Spa, 33.

Stafford, Lady Grace, 103.

Stafford, Marquis of, 90.

Stormont, Viscountess, 40.

Strauss, Johann, 231.

Sully, Mounet, 229.

Sunstroke, 268.

Taaffe, Sub-Lieutenant, 183, 250.

Taffanel, 165.

Taille des Essarts, Comtesse de la, 158.

Taintegnies, Baron de, 28, 30.

Tarver, Mr. Henry, 76.

Taylor, Charles, 47.

Temple (“Mug”), 66.

Tercin, Gabrielle, 246.

Thackeray, 5.

Thackeray, St. John, 74.

The Alhambra, Granada, 258.

The diminishing candle, 209.

“The Oyster,” 193.

Thorne, Lieutenant, 267.

Thornton, C. I., 89.

Thurlow, Lieutenant E. Hovell, 240.

Torphichen, Lord, 256.

Trafalgar, Lord, 77.

Trianon, le Petit, 163.

Tufnell, Captain, 225.

Tufton, Captain, 240.

Tugwell, Mr., 162.

Vane, Henry de Vere, 98.

Vane-Tempest, Hon. Henry, 97.

Vaughan, Arthur Powys, 194.

Vay, Baron de, 165.

Versailles, 163.

Victoria, Queen, 83, 85.

Vyse, Howard, 129, 155, 261, 271.

Wagner, 231.

Walden, Lord Howard de, 27.

Walden, Lady Howard de, 27.

Waldteufel (composer), 159.

Walker, H. B., 90.

Warre, Rev. Edmund, 73.

Warre-Malet, Sir A., 51.

Warre-Malet, Miss Mabel, 51.

Warre-Malet, Mrs., 51, 53.

Warren, Miss Minnie, 153.

Waterlot, Mademoiselle, 154.

Wayte, Mr., 70, 71.

Wellesley, Colonel, 248.

Westminster, Duke of, 77.

Wilkinson, Lieutenant E. O. H., 223.

Williamson, C. D. Robertson, 78.

Willing, Misses Lee, 12.

Wilma, Tournay, 231.

Winchester, 241.

Windsor Fair, 86.

Winkelmann, 231.

Winsloe, Mrs., 35.

Wolter, Charlotte, 230.

Wombwell, Sir George, 249.

Wood, Sub-Lieutenant, 208.

Woodforde, Mrs. Charles, 112.

Würtemberg, King and Queen of, 30.

Wylie, Lieutenant, 226.

York, Duke of, 56.

Yorke, Hon. Mrs., 237.

Zauerthal, Ritter von, 238.

Zither, The, Lessons on, 165.

Zither performances, 172, 227.

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