( It is spring 1761. Charles Huntingdon has had surprising experiences of his friend Lord Staines and the latter's father the Earl of Teesdale)
The more I was acquainted with Elizabeth
Newstead, the more attractive I found her. She might have been several years
older than me, but her skin was clear, her hair was pale gold, her white teeth
were all her own, and her eyes, when she looked me full in the face, were teasing.
My desire for this elegant lady increased day by day. However, the next time I
visited her she immediately sensed that I was impatient to ask her questions of
some kind, so she smiled and invited me to proceed without delay.
I told her of Lord Teesdale’s outburst of
hostility towards his son, and the strange incident of the picture of the boy
with the cricket bat. She said, did I not know that there had been another son?
That would have been the boy in the picture: the darling of his parents; a
delightful child with infinitely more talents than his brother, but who had had
died of a fever while at Eton. Lord Teesdale, and more particularly his
Countess, had never fully recovered from the tragedy.
“And as for Staines, I am only surprised
that you had not become aware earlier of his character. Why, the whole town
knows of it, and how his father despairs of him, and I verily believe might
disinherit him, but for the fact that he is the only son. His sister is a fool
and married to a fool. His worst depravities have so far been concealed from
the Countess: she still hopes that if they can find a good wife for him it
might effect his reformation; but as for myself, I have my doubts!”
She asked whether I had ever visited the
house that his father permitted him to keep. I replied that I had been invited,
but had never ventured there.
“You were wise!” she replied. “for I have
heard that he keeps a set of very disreputable servants; rascals of the most
degraded morals; and the scenes that take place there are best not described!”
I then recounted how Staines had greatly surprised me by kissing me after our encounter with the ruffians when returning from the Drury Lane theatre. Instead of being shocked, the tale caused her to laugh.
“With the greatest respect, Mr
Huntingdon, why else do you think he would have first befriended you; a penniless
young man with no prospects? Because you are so handsome, that is why! But I believe you are not of Staines’s persuasion, are you?”
She turned to me with a mischievous smile on
her face. Acting on a sudden impulse, I seized her in my arms and kissed her
full on the lips; and in that position we remained for some time, for she made
no attempt to break free. Finally, she gently pushed me away.
“Well, I discover I was right!” she
chuckled, “But now to other matters. The Countess of Teesdale wishes to meet
you again.
“I have
the honour to be accounted as one of her friends. She seldom appears in public
and speaks freely only with an intimate circle. She is no fool: her judgement
is sound, she knows much of poetry and painting, and for all her silence she
has much influence over her his lordship. She has heard the Earl speak of you
as a young man of good sense. I have told her that you wish to wait upon her.
You should do so. It is high time, Mr Huntingdon, that you ceased to waste your
days with Lord Staines and his disreputable friends, and instead begin to
cultivate the best society!”
Elizabeth now took me in hand to make me
acceptable to the finest ladies. She instructed me in the complex and precise
etiquette required when meeting ladies for the first time, or when attending a
lady’s salon There appeared to be an endless number of small details: how I
should enter the room, how to bow, how to hold my hat, and so forth. I treated
all this as no more than the foolish rules of a ridiculous game, but Elizabeth
sternly told me that I must treat such matters with great seriousness.
“Of course, only a fool thinks they are of
real importance; but none but a fool treats them as being of no importance.
When your position in the world is firmly established, why; then you may ignore
all these rules if you so choose. But not before then!”
Elizabeth also lent me the latest novels and
books of poetry to read, or at least glance at, in order to make polite
conversation about them. She produced folios of engravings of pictures by the
great artists, and taught me how to distinguish a Carravaggio or a Titian. Of
our British artists she particularly admired Allan Ramsay. She acknowledged
Holbein as a man of genius, but thought most of his works too brutal for those
of refined taste. Architecture too was studied, so that I might never confuse a
Doric column with an Ionic or Corinthian one.
I was nervous when she first accompanied me
to Teesdale House, where the Countess was holding a salon of friends after the
French fashion. Fortunately, all went well. We were served tea in exquisitely
decorated little porcelain cups from Saxony, and our talk was of painting and
poetry, not of politics. I endeavoured to contribute to the best of my ability,
with wit but with modesty, and not to talk too much. I hoped I had made a good
impression. I was invited to attend again next week, when I was honoured to be
introduced to the famous Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, the traveller and poetess.
I was too awed to say much to her, and hoped to meet her again on some future
occasion; but alas! the poor lady was soon very ill and died not long
afterwards. Also in the company with a young Scotchman, by name Boswell, who
flattered the Countess outrageously and never stopped talking. I was to meet
him again later.
It
was after this last event that I was summoned to another discussion with Lord
Teesdale. I had not spoken to him since the episode with the painting, which,
thanks to Elizabeth Newstead, I now understood. Neither of us referred to the
incident: instead, we talked of politics and the coming election.
He began by saying that, while Sir James
Wilbrahim’s hold on one of the two Bereton seats was absolute and
unchallengeable, the other could be considered more open, and he asked me for
my opinion on this. I replied that Sir James and his friends strongly disliked
Mr Bailey, the other Member, and had been angry with my aunt for supporting
him. They would all prefer some local gentleman to replace him, should any be
available.
Lord Teesdale smiled. “Mrs Andrew was a very
independent-minded lady. She and her late husband had, of course, maintained an
endless feud with Sir James Wilbrahim, and, I might add, she did not greatly
approve of me either; but since no Whig candidate was put forward, she
acquiesced in Mr Bailey’s candidature, though without enthusiasm.
“But now, a general election is imminent, and
Mr Bailey has reported that his health is such that he no longer wishes to
endure the burden of another campaign, so the second seat at Bereton may be
considered vacant. I believe this is a fine opportunity for a young gentleman to
come forward as a candidate. You are quite right that there would be support
for a local man. Why not yourself? You now reside there, your aunt was a highly
respected figure and her friends are certain to vote for you, and I am
confident that, with my support too, your efforts will meet with success.”
He wanted me to become a Member of
Parliament!
I could do no more than nod in assent to the
proposal; my head already full of dreams. Eventually I protested weakly that I
knew little of politics, but he brushed this aside, saying that I had shown
myself to be better informed than most young gentlemen of my age. He repeated
that my chances of success were strong, and added that I should not be
concerned about the expense involved in an election: he would be glad to
advance any money that might be needed. He added that his Countess spoke very
highly of me. “And”, he added, with a smile, “If you have the ladies on your
side, then you have a considerable advantage already!
“But time is short, for the poll will be
held in May. If you wish to enter Parliament, you must return to Bereton
without delay to prepare for the contest. My man Jarrett will come: he knows
all the details of every voter in the borough, and through him you may obtain
any funds you might need. Then, as soon as you are able, come down to see me at
Maybury. I will introduce you to certain gentlemen of importance.
“Should you prove successful in this
endeavour,” he added, “all I shall demand of you is that you would never
directly oppose my interests. In all other matters, you will be free to act as
you see fit”.
I considered
this this a very fair bargain, and agreed to his terms.
Elizabeth entirely approved of my desire to
become a Member of Parliament, and that she would certainly be happy to lend me
any money that might be needed for the project, for she was sure that her
husband and all his friends from India would also approve. As for Mr Bailey’s
withdrawal from the election, she said this might have been foreseen.
“For many months he has been immured in his
house at Hampstead with his new mistress, and all that untoward exertion with a
girl young enough to be his granddaughter must have taken its toll on his body,
no less than on his wallet!”
She
also advised me of the importance of maintaining my independence, especially
from Lord Teesdale.
“Perhaps he sees you as a kind of son,
whose character he hopes to mould”, she mused, “But otherwise his actions are
always guided by his own self-interest, and he may expect you to be no more
than his tool or follower in Bereton and in Parliament, to act always in
accordance with his wishes. You must be sure not to let this happen!”
I felt confident that I would be capable of
resisting an attempt by Teesdale or anyone else to reduce me to a puppet; so I answered
that the Earl had assured me a proper measure of freedom in my conduct, but that I
would bear her warning in mind. She
patted me on the cheek, and then we kissed. She laughingly repulsed my attempts
to take our intimacy further.
What time I now had to spare from discussing
politics with Lord Teesdale, or dealing with the many and detailed papers of
financial accounts that Clifford sent me from the Priory, I now spent with
Elizabeth, or with Lady Teesdale and her circle, and I no longer joined the night-time
expeditions of Lord Staines and his friends. Some of them commented with
pretended sadness that my absence from drunken cavorting on the streets made it only too obvious that a woman had got me in her clutches. John Robertson, however, approved.
“For a young man who, if you will pardon me
for so saying, has little knowledge of the world”, he told me in his most
sonorous tones, “could there ever be a better tutor than a lady who has moved
in the best society? And, as the famous Lord Chesterfield instructed his son: a
man who wins the good opinion of the ladies may indeed consider that he has the
world at his feet. Many savants have written of the advantage of having as a
mistress a lady of mature years. Should you indeed be fortunate enough to find such
a lady to help you in your endeavours, stay with her!”
I
wondered if he knew about Elizabeth. I protested that I had no mistress, which
was true enough at this time, though not for want of trying on my part. As my
passion for her increased, my desire and frustration did battle at every
meeting, which was no doubt her intention.
Now I was ready to return to my country home
to prepare for the election. On parting from Elizabeth, I took her in my arms
and kissed her with great passion. In view of her comments on her husband, I
hoped we might proceed yet further, but when I made the attempt, she laughingly
repulsed me, with the excuse that she feared I would endanger her favourite
dress (which was indeed a very fine one, of blue Spitalfields silk with a
pattern of orange flowers). She also resisted suggestions that we should take
ourselves to the bedroom and allow me to undress her, giggling coquettishly.
Far from being offended, my ardour appeared to amuse her. I retorted that when
I returned to London as a Member of Parliament, should my hopes be fulfilled, I
would then claim my rights as a conqueror. To this she laughed, but made no
objection.
I met Staines at Brown’s club soon after
this. I did not reveal that I knew of his father’s disgust, but told him how I
intended to stand for election to Parliament. He congratulated me heartily and
said he looked forward to sitting beside me on the famous benches.
“I shall be there too, for I shall be
returned for a borough somewhere in Wiltshire which, as far as I can tell, is
in the happy situation of containing no voters at all. And I shall not sit mute
like some booby squire: I intend to cut a figure in Parliament! I shall speak
frequently, hinting to ministers that my support could be obtained for a
suitable price. That is the route to a lucrative office! And in the meantime:
did you know that a Member of Parliament cannot be arrested for debt? We shall
be able to defer paying our tradesmen for as long as we wish!”
I wrote to Mrs Timmis, telling her to expect me soon, but only to stay for a few days, for I intended to stay in the Priory for no more than a week before passing on to Maybury; and I instructed Clifford to obtain for me a carriage and horses suitable to take me on my coming journey thither. I did not tell either of them of my intention to stand for election to Parliament; I thought it best to tell Sir James Wilbrahim personally, rather than that he should learn of my plans from gossip around the town.
Guided by Elizabeth, I purchased
new garments that were fitting for visiting a great lord on his estate, where
no doubt I would meet other gentlemen of refinement and importance. I did not
forget to buy presents for Louisa Wilbrahim. I also had a shoemaker fashion for
me several pairs of stout boots, suitable for country wear. I would explore the
lands around more fully, and I might even attempt some foxhunting! And on this visit I would diligently search out the true story of the Jacobite occupation of
the town.
The day before my departure, I walked
through the streets to look upon the palace of Westminster. I could now I regard
the scene in a new perspective, hoping that I would shortly be a denizen of that
celebrated building as of right. I was beginning to view myself not only as a
country gentleman but a person of significance in a wider world.
