Links with the past

Preface

The following pages do not profess to do more than offer to the reader some passing glimpses of. bygone days, and of the lives of those with whom I happened to be acquainted or connected who were serving their country in times of national peril, or leading the tranquil home life of a century now dead.

At the time of my marriage, my husband asked me to destroy the journals which I had kept during my earlier youth. He had known so much unhappiness and dissension caused by such writings that he entertained both dislike and distrust of them.

I obeyed his wishes ; and consequently, so far as my personal contributions to these pages are concerned, my memory is largely responsible for their contents. I have endeavoured carefully to avoid any allusions to those no longer living which could cause pain or offence to their descendants or representatives, and I trust that in this I may have succeeded.

My thanks are due to Miss Agnes Fraser for allowing me free access to the journals of her aunt, viii PREFACE

the late Miss Mary Bagot, and for her permission to extract therefrom such material as I considered might be of general interest.

I am likewise indebted to Messrs. Blackwood for allowing me to reprint certain passages which were embodied in an article of mine, entitled " Bygone Days," and published in Blackwood's Magazine for March 1899.

SOPHY LOUISA BAGOT,

Chapter I Pages

Departure of the Guards for Portugal — Life at Dublin Castle — A Banshee Tale — The first Railway — Teddesley — M. de Lavalette — Princess Victoria — Queen Victoria's Coronation— Reform Bill — Hugh Percy, Bishop of Carlisle — William IV. — Talleyrand — Lord and Lady Clarendon — Lord Wellesley, &c 1-15

Chapter II Early Years

Hatherton Hall— Mrs. Walhouse — The Portal Family— Sir Edward Littleton — Bishton — Alnwick Castle — Northumberland House — Sir Watkin "Wynn — Hertfordshire — Stafford House — Lady Ashburnham — Lord Huntly and Marie Antoinette — Almack's — Charles Bagot, &c. . . 16-33

Chapter III

Josceline Percy — The Sans Pare.il — The " House of Lords " — Lord Nelson — Queen of Naples — Lady Hamilton — H.M.S. Medusa — Lisbon — H.M.S. Hotspur — A treacherous Pilot — Two young Heroes — Portsmouth — Miss Agnes Weston — Junot — Lord Nelson — Captain Hardy .... 34-52 x CONTENTS

Chapter IV Pagss

H.M.S. Winchester — Rio Janeiro — Tropical Scenery — A black Ball — A big Gale — Mauritius — Monsieur Geneve — La chasse au cerf — Reduit — A kitchen Tragedy — The West Coast of Africa — Among the Natives — Benguela— The capture of a Slaver — Bourbon — Admiral Bazoche — A breach of Etiquette — Madagascar and French jealousy — St. Helena — An eccentric Governor — The troubles of an A.D.C. — Port Natal — Ascension — Sir James Ross — H.M.SS. Erebus and Terror — Life at Admiralty House — A tribe of Baboons — Harry Keppel — Boer Life — The Cloete Family — Farmer Peck — My brother's Death — Return to England 53-89

Chapter V Some Recollections Of Early Married Life

My Marriage — Country Visits — Nice — Paris — Lord and Lady Cowley — The Wellesleys — The Praslin Murder — Louis Philippe and Queen Amelie— Lady Mary Bagot — The Emperor — Sir Charles Bagot — The Duke of Wellington — — Tyninghame — Drumlanrig — The Buccleuchs — The Grevilles — Lord Alvanley —Lady Mornington — Admiral Byng — Brussels and Waterloo — Family Anecdotes— How the Waterloo Despatches reached London — Henry Percy — Sir William Ponsonby — The Duke of Wellington and Waterloo — Sir Peregrine Maitland — Louis XVIH. and Fouche — Letters of Lord Charles Percy — George III. and the Prince of Wales — Sir Charles Napier — Lady Ashburnham— The Duchess of Gloucester . . . 90-127

Chapter VI

Blithfield and the Bagots — Bagot's Park — John Sneyd — Lady Wilmot Horton — A Ghost Story — A Case of Second Sight —The Tracts for the Times— Mr. Bennett — St. Barnabas, Pimlico — Mrs. Greville Howard — Levens — A Description of Princess Charlotte's Marriage and Funeral — Lady Derby — Mr. Rogers' Breakfasts — The Chartist Riots . . 128-156

CONTENTS xi

Chapter VII Pages

Miss Mary Bagot — Characteristics and Dialect — Wednesbury — Cannock Wood — Tamworth — Needwood Forest — Tutbury — Lichfield — Doctor Johnson — Lichfield Cathedral— The Staffords — Chillington — The Giffords — Boscobel — Wychnor and the Flitch of Bacon— Tixall — Bellamour — Beaudesert — Ingestrie — Shugborough — Keele Hall — Blithfield — Bagots Bromley — Colonel Richard Bagot and Prince Rupert — Blithfield Church — Morris-dancers — The Beggar's Oak — The Bagots 157-196

Chapter VIII Extracts From Miss Mary Bagot's Journals

The Ladies of Llangollen — The " Wakes " — A Romance — Walter Scott — The Executioner of Charles I. — Dr. Tennison — Sir Charles Bagot — Lord Liverpool — Mrs. Bowdler — Lord St. Vincent's Ghost Story — Disappearance of Mr. Bathurst — Funeral of George IV.— Charles X.— Guy's Cliffe— Mrs. Siddons — North Court — Mrs. Bennett — Doctor Johnson 197-223

Chapter IX From Miss Mary Bagot's Journals (1823)

Dean Stanley — A Primitive Curate — Merton College — Bath — Lord North — Interview with Doctor Johnson— Somerford and the Moncktons — Chillington — Jack Mytton — Archery at Blithfield — Lichfield Races — Mrs. Somerville — Lady Augusta Murray's Birthmark — A White Dromedary and a Poor Monarch — Chenies and the Russells — Harriet Bagot's Death-warning — Captain Whitby — Death of Mr. Canning — Prince Charles Edward — Mr. Bowdler — Lord Edward Fitzgerald — A Dream — A True History — The Earthquake at Lisbon — Edmund Sabine — Lord Macaulay — Mr. Canning —A Ghost Story 224-284 xii CONTENTS

Chapter X Pages

London Society in 1 842-1 852 — Lady Jersey — Princess Nicholas Esterhazy — The Duchess of Bedford's parties — Landseer — Lady Cork — Count and Countess Woronzow — Royal Invitations— Lord Raglan — Crimean Anecdotes — Marshal Canrobert— Funeral of Lord Raglan — Colonel Charles Bagot's Letters — Death of the Prince Consort — Entry into London and Marriage of the Princess of Wales — Naval Review, 1867 — Northumberland House — Palmer the Murderer — My Husband sees King Henry IV, — Fatal Accident to Alexander Bagot — His Military Services— Power of Mind over Body — William Pitt — An Eton Story — "Little Jack Horner " — Family Tales — My Husband's Death — The Queen's Kindness — Cardinal Manning — Alan Bagot — The Diamond Jubilee — Messrs. Child — Conclusion 285-322

Chapter I

Departure of the Guards for Portugal — Life at Dublin Castle — A Bansh.ee Tale — The first Railway — Tecldesley — M. de Lavalette — Princess Victoria — Queen Victoria's Coronation — Reform Bill — Hugh Percy, Bishop of Carlisle — William IV. — Talleyrand — Lord and Lady Clarendon — Lord Wellesley, &c.

I was born on the 24th December 182 1, in Portman Square. At two months old I was lost for some hours, and found by Mr. Deans, my grandfather Lord Beverley's confidential servant, in some wretched buildings near Portman Square — long ago pulled down — where my Irish nurse, with her friends. was "waking" a child who had died of confluent smallpox.

My father and mother, soon after my birth, went to live at Beauchamp Cottage, near Niton, in the Isle of Wight, which had been lent to them by my father's aunt, Mrs. Bennett. She was a sister of Lady Beverley, the Duchess of Northumberland, and Lady Exeter — all daughters of Sir Peter Burrell, afterwards Lord Gwydyr. One of my earliest recollections is seeing the vessel taking the Guards out to Portugal for the expected war there, from a window of the pretty little church at St. Laurence. The ship had all her sails set, white and gleaming in the brilliant sunshine. My next childish impression is, when I was three years old, going up to London with my parents for my brother Alan's birth. I recollect the terror I felt at night, at the tin rushlight with its great holes of light glaring like eyes upon the carpet, and at the hoarse voice of the watchman calling out in the Square, " Three o'clock, and a cloudy morning." The horror of that first night in London is fresh in my mind now. In 1826 we left the Isle of Wight for a place bought by my father in Hertfordshire, called Scotsbridge.

In 1829, Hugh, Duke of Northumberland, was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. My father was given the command of the Royal yacht Charlotte at Kingstown, at the same time. We crossed from Liverpool to Kingstown in a packet, in a gale of wind ; the passengers were frightened and came to my father, as a captain of the Royal Navy, imploring him to persuade the captain of the steampacket to put back to Liverpool. My father spoke to the captain on deck. His only reply to the passengers' petition was to take off his hat, wave it to the forecastle, and shout at the top of his voice, " Now, my lads, Hell or Kingstown ! " I recollect thinking the captain a very fine fellow.

We children went below to our berths and awoke at Kingstown, where we landed in a dense crowd of people all anxious to see the captain of the Royal yacht. We stayed at Gresham's Hotel in Dublin until my father's rooms in the Castle were ready for him, and Corrig Castle was taken for our country house.

Our first excitement was seeing a mass meeting for Daniel O'Connell at Kingstown, and hearing him address the crowds in favour of the Repeal of the Union. Our next was going to stay at the Phcenix Park, and being extremely surprised to see that Duchess Charlotte of Northumberland, when the Lord Lieutenant came in to luncheon, got up, and with all the ladies present, made him a low curtsey. As we children (Isabel Percy and I) had been playing with him just before in his own rooms, we could not conceive why we were expected to curtsey to him. The Duchess explained to us that it was to the King's Majesty, of which he was the representative in Ireland.

No doubt it was a very old-fashioned Viceregal Court. The Duchess did not approve of waltzing at the balls, but at my aunt Mrs. Charles Percy's rooms in the Castle, the young officers used to come and practise waltzing in the evenings, and one of them, who had lately come from Paris, taught them and the ladies the new dance, the gallopade, which caused scandal to the objectors to round dances.

This Duchess of Northumberland, notwithstanding her old-fashioned prejudices, was one of the kindest of women. She was a daughter of Lord Powis, and became later the governess to Princess Victoria.

The Irish of the lower class were then extremely superstitious. My brother and I went on one occasion with our nurse to see an old widow, in a village near Corrig, called Sally Noggin. Whilst we were sitting talking to her, we heard three loud and distinct knocks at the closed door of the cottage. We got up and opened it, but nobody was to be seen. The old woman burst forth into loud lamentations and howls, and said that it was the Banshee come to announce three deaths. We could not comfort her. Next morning we went to see her again, and found that she had just been told of the death of her three sons, fishermen, who had been drowned that night by the capsizing of their boat in a storm and their bodies washed ashore.

It was a very odd coincidence, for we certainly heard the knocks most clearly. Of course after this we implicitly believed in the Banshee, and in all the ghosts and fairy-tales told to us. All the money we were given as children we used to bury, in order to propitiate an imaginary spirit which we called "the Hermit." We confided to the Irish gardener where we had buried our offering, and he gave us one of his old tobacco pipes to mark the precise spot. When we digged to see if the spirit had deigned to accept our money we of course found that he had, and no doubt the money had been " spirited " away — down the gardener's throat !

George the Fourth died, and the Duke of Northumberland left Ireland. Lord Anglesey succeeded him as Lord Lieutenant, and my father also left, to our great despair. We returned to England, and my brother and I parted regretfully with all our Irish friends, who were chiefly poor people, spirits and fairies.

The excitement caused by the opening of the first railways seem inconceivable in these days. I saw the first train start from Watford, on the London and North-Western line. Country gentlemen vowed it was the ruin of the country ; that not only would they themselves never travel by railroad, but that no parcels or goods should ever come to their houses by it, but only by coach or canal.

I well recollect Mr. Huskisson's death, as he and the Duke of Wellington were staying at Teddesley just before it occurred.

Teddesley, in Staffordshire, not far from Penkridge, belonged to my mother's brother, the first Lord Hatherton, who had inherited the property from his great uncle, Sir Edward Littleton.

People met to compare and discuss their sensations after their first railway journey, and would solemnly ask each other whether their hearts and breathing were not affected by the rapid motion through the air. The good old Tories, to whom I by birth belonged, deplored the levelling tendencies that, in their opinion, the contact with the lower classes at railway stations was sure to bring into society. The downfall of the country was predicted by old gentlemen at dessert, over their port wine, predictions to which I remember listening awestruck, but secretly longing intensely to travel by train, which I very soon did. Then came the shock of the projected Reform Bill, rejected in 1831, but passed the following year. A report spread abroad that Lord Grey and Lord Brougham were going to be taken to the Tower. My brother and I walked miles from Scotsbridge in order to see them leave Watford, whence for some reason we concluded they would start for the Tower, devoutly hoping that when once there they would be beheaded.

People of opposite opinions in politics could not meet at that time, however nearly they might happen to be related.

At Teddesley I heard Sir Robert Wilson give his account of Lavalette's escape. Mr. Croker, Sir Robert Wilmot Horton, Mr. Fazackerley, and many other famous wits and politicians of the day, frequently met at Teddesley, and their conversations, which I wish I had been old enough to put down at the time, were most interesting. Children and young people had few books then, and the conversation of their elders, and the public events, were absorbing to a degree to the ears of young people living a retired country life.

Antoine Marie Chamans, Comte cle Lavalette, was born in Paris in 1769. lie had a very adventurous life. He was originally destined for the priesthood, but disliked the idea and went into the office of a public ministry, where he became acquainted with the future General Bertrand. He was greatly excited by the taking of the Bastille, but wished for revolution only in a mild form. He became a National Guard and was full of enthusiasm for Marie Antoinette, and indignant at the inaction of the Garde Nationale during the days and nights of the 5th and 6th October. He remained faithful to the Royal Family to the last moment, but was so compromised that his only chance for life was to take refuge in the Army. At the battle of Arcole he was raised to the rank of captain, and taken by Napoleon as his aide-de-camp. Being pleased with his services in the field, Buonaparte gave him as a wife Emilie de Beauharnais, daughter of the Marquis de Beauharnais, the eldest brother of Josephine's first husband.

The events of 18 14 obliged Lavalette to return to private life. Napoleon, on his return from Elba, made him a peer. On the return of Louis XVIII. to Paris, La Valette was arrested and sent to the Conciergerie. Madame de Lavalette entrusted

M. Baudras to receive and hide her husband in the event of her being able to effect his escape from prison.

Louis XVIII. wished to show Lavalette favour, but the ultra-royalists would not allow him to do so.

Marmont communicated the countersign to her, and when the King was going to Mass, Madame de Lavalette managed to throw herself at his feet ; she presented her petition for her husband's freedom, and received an evasive reply. This was on the 20th December 1815. The next day was fixed for the execution of Lavalette. In the evening Madame de Lavalette had herself conveyed to the Conciergerie in a chaise d porteur, accompanied by her daughter, a girl of fourteen, and an old governess. The husband and wife dined together in a private room. Madame de Lavalette then put on her husband's clothes, leaving him her own. After heartrending adieux the three women left the prison, and on passing through the registry office of the prison one of them was overcome with grief, and leaned, her face hidden in her handkerchief, on the young girl's shoulder. The porter was touched at the sight of so much grief, and allowed the group to pass out without insisting on their veils being lifted.

On returning to the prisoner's room the warder only found Madame de Lavalette. Monsieur Baudras received Lavalette, and took him to the Foreign

Office. When Louis XVIII. heard of his escape he said, "Madame de Lavalette has only done her duty."

Lavalette remained hidden in Paris until the 10th January 18 16. On the evening of that day he went on foot to the house of an English friend, a Captain Hutchinson, and from there, wearing the uniform of an English colonel, and passing under the name of Losak, he was taken through Paris in an open carriage by the English general, Sir Robert Wilson. They both arrived safely at the frontier town of Mons, where they separated, and Sir Robert Wilson returned to Paris. He was arrested, as well as his two fellow-countrymen, Bruce and Hutchinson. They were ably defended in court by Monsieur Dussin, but were condemned to three months' imprisonment.

Lavalette retired to Bavaria, but was allowed to return to France in 1822. His wife was first imprisoned, but soon provisionally released. She went out of her mind, and never recovered her reason. Both she and her husband are buried in Pere la Chaise.

Sir Robert Wilson always gave himself full credit for Lavalette's escape, notwithstanding the fact that it was due to Madame de Lavalette's heroism and presence of mind that her husband succeeded in getting out of the Conciergerie.

Princess Victoria's visit to Shugborough, Lord io LINKS WITH THE PAST

Lichfield's place near Stafford, was intensely interesting to us at Teddesley near by. My parents went to Shugborough to meet the future Queen and her mother, and told us all the little events of the visit — among other things how Princess Victoria would eat asparagus in her own fashion, which was not a very pretty one, but at last gave way to the Duchess of Kent's remonstrances.

The next time I can recollect Princess Victoria was after she had taken leave of her uncle, the King of the Belgians, and her great grief and tears at the parting. Later on my cousins and I used sometimes to meet her and her governess in Kensington Gardens.

June 28, 1838. — My mother and I were present at the Queen's coronation in Westminster Abbey. We were staying at Lord Hatherton's house at 45 Grosvenor Place. We had to be in our places in the Abbey, in low dresses, &c, by four o'clock in the morning. We got up at two, and were advised to drink a mixture of brandy and yolks of eggs. The coronation was a beautiful sight, well worth all the fatigue. What impressed me, I think, the most, was the touching kindness and grace with which, when old Lord Rolle fell in the act of doing homage, the young Queen stepped forward and attempted to raise him up by putting out her hands to him. Her hands were beautiful and so was her voice. Lord Rolle

SOME CHILDISH MEMORIES n

really fell twice in his attempts to kneel before the throne.

In the evening my mother, her nephew Edward Littleton and I, and George Chetwode,1 left Grosvenor Place to see the illuminations. We crossed with difficulty into Hyde Park to see the great Failbeing held there. A ball was going on at Apsley House, which was beautifully illuminated. The windows were open and the dancing visible while the music was inaudible, which produced a strange effect on our young minds. For a whole week the booths from all parts of the country had been taking up their ground. It was a wonderful scene. George Chetwode and I followed, as we thought, my mother and her very handsome and tall nephew. We got into the thick of the Fair, and then it was not very pleasant. Suddenly the lady whom we had believed to be my mother turned round — a very different kind of person ! We had completely lost ourselves, and it was a long time before, rather frightened and very tired, we could get out of the crowd and find our way out of the Park and back to Grosvenor Place.

No one who did not live in the davs of the first Reform Bill can imagine the excitement in the country. Duke Hugh (Northumberland) wrote to my father asking him if he would come to Alnwick Castle with all his family. The Duke had made

1 The present Sir George Chetwode.

arrangements to arm and provision the Castle as if for a siege, if serious riots or revolution occurred. My father, however, did not take the situation so seriously as did the rest of the family, and declined the invitation. After the Bill was passed, Rickmansworth, the little village near Scotsbridge, was illuminated — only Scotsbridge and the Vicarage refused to join in the rejoicings. The mob forced their way into our backyard, saying that if Captain Percy would not illuminate they would break all the windows and force their way into the house through the servants' offices. We and all the servants were gathered by my father's orders in the front hall. My father loaded his pistols and sent the mob word that he would shoot the first man who crossed the threshold. No one ventured to do so, and, after hooting and yelling, the mob departed to the Vicar age, where they ordered the Vicar to illuminate and to give them up the keys of the church, in order that they might ring the bells. The poor Vicar was so frightened that he ran up to his bedroom and threw the keys of the church out of the window. I remember to this day the feeling of disgust with which we heard the merry peal of the really beautiful bells of Rickmansworth.

We passed an uncomfortable night with our broken windows, but we had not, like the Vicar, hauled down our colours !

My father's twin brother, the Bishop of Carlisle

1832), was burned in effigy in his cathedral city. A sick person, very poor, sent to Rose Castle, the episcopal residence, to ask my uncle to come to him. The Bishop was begged not to go into Carlisle alone without protection. However, he ordered his horse and rode there by himself, to minister to the sick man. The streets were full of angry roughs ; but, to my uncle's surprise, they made way for him, and, on hearing what he was there for, cheered him. There was a strong feeling at that time against the Bishops.

The east window in Carlisle Cathedral was erected to my uncle's memory after his death by his poor clergy. His thoughtfulness for them and for all under his charge was great, and he added to the incomes of many out of his own. His personal expenses were kept within the narrowest bounds ; but while life at Rose Castle was Spartan, the Bishop's charities were unbounded. He christened and married me, as he did all his nephews and nieces whenever possible.

I recollect William IV. and Queen Adelaide at Moor Park, which in those days belonged to Lord Westminster. He gave what was then called a "breakfast" to the King and Queen, and the Corps Diplomatique and the Court came down from London to it. We children were sent out into the garden while the party were in the dining-room in order to be out of the way, but we had the bad manners to flatten our noses against the window opposite which the King was sitting at breakfast. He had told my father, whom he had known in the Navy, to sit near him, and, seeing us, he asked him whose children we were. My father, to his annoyance, had to tell the King that we were his. The King sent for me and my brother Alan, and kept us beside him, giving us ices, fruit, &c. He was always kind to children, and very fond of them. I recollect thinking him a very insignificantlooking king, having expected to see him sitting at the table wearing his crown. Queen Adelaide was also present.

My father told me to look well at Monsieur de Talleyrand, who was one of the party, saying that when I was older I should read a great deal about him in French history. I can see Talleyrand's face in my mind's eye now ; deadly pale like a death's head, and a most remarkably shaped head. He had a very bad countenance, but it was full of intellect. I saw many remarkable people that day who had made and were making history, and my father told us all about them, or rather me, as Alan was too young to know or care.

I recollect Madame de Gontaut very well. She used to come and stay at the Grove, Lord Clarendon's place, near us. The Clarendons were dear friends as well as neighbours of my parents. Madame de Gontaut was a most agreeable lady, a chere amie, it was said, of Lord Clarendon, and a grande dame of the ancien regime.

Lady Clarendon, nee Miss Forbes, was twin-sister to Lady Maryborough, my husband's grandmother, who became Lady Mornington. We were all devoted to her.

My sister-in-law, Emily Winchilsea,1 often stayed at the Grove as quite a girl, and used to come over to Scotsbridge long before we ever thought we should become so nearly related to each other by my marriage. She was perfectly beautiful.

I never saw Long Wellesley, Lady Mornington's son. My father introduced him to the great heiress, Miss Tilney Long, whose heart he broke, and whose immense fortune he squandered. Lady Victoria Long Wellesley, whom I knew well, was their only child. She had the remnants of her mothers wasted fortune. In the latter years of Long Wellesley's life, after he became Lord Mornington, the great Duke of Wellington gave Mivart, the hotel-keeper, a weekly sum to dole out to him, and an allowance for his dinner. Long Wellesley could never keep a penny in his pocket.

1 Daughter of Sir Charles Bagot, and second wife of the late Lord Winchilsea and Nottingham. She and her sister, Lady Uxbridge, mother of the late Lord Anglesey and his brothers, and of Lady Hastings, were noted for their remarkable beauty. Both died comparatively young.

Chapter II

Hatherton Hall — Mrs. Walhouse — The Portal Family — Sir Edward Littleton — Bishton — Alnwick Castle — Northumberland House — Sir Watkin Wynn — Hertfordshire — Stafford House — Lady Ashburnham — Lord Huntly and Marie Antoinette — Almack's — Charles Bagot, &c.

Among the pleasantest recollections of my childhood and youth up to the year 1 840, when my father was appointed as Rear- Admiral to the command of the Cape of Good Hope Station, were our yearly autumn and winter visits to Hatherton, the abode of my grandmother, Mrs. Walhouse, the mother of the first Lord Hatherton. She was a very remarkable woman, far ahead of her day. She was nee Miss Portal. At that time the English Church was asleep. Its duties to the sick and the poor, and to the education of their children, were left to take care of themselves. My grandmother, unlike most of her class, built and endowed schools, and attended indefatigably not only to her own property but also to the parishes and the poor upon it. I wondered, as a child, why her bailiff and some of the poor people called her at times "Sir," but she

commanded them and the place with great ability.

The service in the church at Cannock, in which parish Hatherton was situated, was only conducive to sleep. The Cannock band accompanied the choir, and this was at times rather enlivening, and, in certain hymns, almost dramatic ! No one appeared to listen to the sermon, which was a dry essay divided into parts, and every one rejoiced when it came to "lastly," and sprang up with alacrity at the words, " and now, &c." The growth of Dissent in those days is not to be wondered at.

My grandmother was immensely respected throughout Staffordshire, and most hospitable at Hatherton, though I never recollect her paying a visit even for a night away from Hatherton, except to her son's house at Teddesley, and even there she usually only drove over to luncheon.