All this must, of course, be taken with grains of salt, but it is certain that Lady Hester occupied a position of almost unparalleled supremacy for a woman, that she dispensed patronage, lectured ministers, and snubbed princes. On one occasion Lord Mulgrave, who had just been appointed Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, found a broken egg-spoon on the breakfast-table at Walmer, and asked, 'How can Mr. Pitt have such a spoon as this?' 'Don't you know,' retorted Lady Hester, 'that Mr. Pitt sometimes uses very slight and weak instruments wherewith to effect his ends?' Again, when Mr. Addington wished to take the title of Lord Raleigh, Lady Hester determined to prevent what she regarded as a desecration of a great name. She professed to have seen a caricature, which she minutely described, representing Mr. Addington as Sir Walter Raleigh, and the King as Queen Elizabeth. Mr. Pitt, believing the story, repeated it to Addington and others, with the result that messengers were despatched to all the print-shops to buy up the whole impression. Of course no such caricature was to be found, but the prospective peer had received a fright, and chose the inoffensive title of Lord Sidmouth. Lady Hester despised Lord Liverpool for a well-meaning blunderer, but she hated and distrusted Canning, whom she was accustomed to describe as a fiery, red-headed Irish politician, who was never staunch to any person or any party; and she declared that by her scoldings she had often made him blubber like a schoolboy. It cannot be supposed that her ladyship was popular with the numerous persons, high and low, who came under the ban of her displeasure, or suffered from her pride; but she was young, handsome, and witty, her position was unassailable, and as long as her uncle chose to laugh at her insolence and her eccentricities, no lesser power presumed to frown.

For her beauty in youth we must again take her own account on trust, since she never consented to sit for her portrait, and in old age her recollection of her vanished charms may have been coloured by some pardonable exaggeration. 'At twenty,' she told a chronicler, 'my complexion was like alabaster, and at five paces distant the sharpest eyes could not discover my pearl necklace from my skin. My lips were of such a beautiful carnation that, without vanity, I can assure you, very few women had the like. A dark-blue shade under the eyes, and the blue veins that were observable through the transparent skin, heightened the brilliancy of my features. Nor were the roses wanting in my cheeks; and to all this was added a permanency in my looks that no sort of fatigue could impair.' She was fond of relating an anecdote of a flattering impertinence on the part of Beau Brummell, who, meeting her at a ball, coolly took the earrings out of her ears, telling her that she should not wear such things, as they hid the fine turn of her cheek, and the set of head upon her neck. Lady Hester frankly admitted, however, that it was her brilliant colouring that made her beauty, and once observed, in reply to a compliment on her appearance: 'If you were to take every feature in my face, and lay them one by one on the table, there is not a single one that would bear examination. The only thing is that, put together and lighted up, they look well enough. It is homogeneous ugliness, and nothing more.'

With Pitt's death in January, 1806, as by the stroke of a magic wand, all the power, all the glory, and all the grandeur came to a sudden end, and the great minister's favourite niece fell to the level of a private lady, with a moderate income, no influence, and a host of enemies. On his deathbed, Pitt had asked that an annuity of L1500 might be granted to Lady Hester, but in the end only L1200 was awarded to her, a trifling income for one with such exalted ideas of her own importance. A house was taken in Montagu Square, where Lady Hester entertained her half-brothers, Charles and James Stanhope, when their military duties allowed of their being in town. Here she led but a melancholy life, for her means would not allow of her keeping a carriage, and she fancied that it was incompatible with her dignity to drive in a hackney-coach, or to walk out attended by a servant. In 1809 Charles Stanhope, like his chief, Sir John Moore, fell at Corunna. Charles was Lady Hester's favourite brother, and tradition says that Sir John Moore was her lover. Be that as it may, she broke up her establishment in town at this time, and retired to a lonely cottage in Wales, where she amused herself in superintending her dairy and physicking the poor. But she suffered in health and spirits, the contrast of the present with the past was too bitter to be endured in solitude, and in 1810 she decided to go abroad, and spend a year or two in the south. A young medical man, Dr. Meryon, [Footnote: Afterwards Lady Hester's chronicler.] was engaged to accompany her as her travelling physician, and the party further consisted of her brother, James Stanhope, and a friend, Mr. Nassau Sutton, together with two or three servants. Lady Hester was only thirty when her uncle died, but it does not seem to have been considered that she required any chaperonage, either at home or on her travels, nor does it appear that Lord Stanhope (who lived till 1816) took any further interest in her proceedings.

On February 10, 1810, the travellers sailed for the Mediterranean on board the frigate Jason. It is not necessary to follow them over the now familiar ground of the early part of their tour. Gibraltar (whence Captain Stanhope left to join his regiment at Cadiz), Malta, Athens, Constantinople, these were the first stopping-places, and in each Lady Hester was treated with great respect by the authorities, and went her own way in defiance of all native customs and prejudices. At Athens her party was joined by Lord Sligo, who was making some excavations in the neighbourhood, and by Lord Byron, who had just won fresh laurels by swimming the Hellespont. Lady Hester formed but a poor opinion of the poet, whose affectations she used to mimic with considerable effect. 'I think Lord Byron was a strange character,' she said, many years later. 'His generosity was for a motive, his avarice was for a motive; one time he was mopish, and nobody was to speak to him; another, he was for being jocular with everybody.... At Athens I saw nothing in him but a well-bred man, like many others: for as for poetry, it is easy enough to write verses; and as for the thoughts, who knows where he got them? Many a one picks up some old book that nobody knows anything about, and gets his ideas out of it. He had a great deal of vice in his looks—his eyes set close together, and a contracted brow. O Lord! I am sure he was not a liberal man, whatever else he might be. The only good thing about his looks was this part [drawing her hand under her cheek, and down the front of her neck], and the curl on his forehead.'

The winter of 1810 was passed at Constantinople, and the early part of 1811 at the Baths of Brusa. As Lady Hester had decided to spend the following winter in Egypt, a Greek vessel was hired for herself and her party, which now consisted of two gentlemen, Mr. Bruce and Mr. Pearce, besides her usual retinue, and on October 23 the travellers set sail for Alexandria. After experiencing contrary winds for two or three weeks, the ship sprang a leak, and the cry of 'All hands to the pumps' showed that danger was imminent. Lady Hester took the announcement of the misfortune with the greatest calmness, dressed herself, and ordered her maid to pack a small box with a few necessaries. It soon became evident that the ship could not keep afloat much longer, and that the passengers and crew must take to the long-boat if they wished to escape with their lives. They contrived, in spite of the high sea that was running, to steer their boat into a little creek on a rock off the island of Rhodes, and here, without either food or water, they remained for thirty hours before they were rescued, and taken ashore. Even then their state was hardly less pitiable, for they were wet through, had no change of clothes, and possessed hardly enough money for their immediate necessities. Lady Hester described her adventure in the following letter, dated Rhodes, December, 1811:—

'I write one line by a ship which came in here for a few hours, just to tell you we are safe and well. Starving thirty hours on a bare rock, without even fresh water, being half naked and drenched with wet, having traversed an almost trackless country over dreadful rocks and mountains, laid me up at a village for a few days, but I have since crossed the island on an ass, going for six hours a day, which proves I am pretty well, now, at least.... My locket, and the valuable snuff-box Lord Sligo gave me, and two pelisses, are all I have saved—all the travelling-equipage for Smyrna is gone; the servants naked and unarmed; but the great loss of all is the medicine-chest, which saved the lives of so many travellers in Greece.'

As they had lost nearly all their clothes, and knew that it would be impossible to procure a European refit in these regions, the travellers decided to adopt Turkish costumes. Dr. Meryon made a journey to Smyrna, where he raised money, and bought necessary articles for the shipwrecked party at Rhodes. On his return, laden with purchases, after an absence of five weeks, 'the packing-cases were opened [to quote his own description], and we assumed our new dresses. Ignorant at that time of the distinctions of dress which prevail in Turkey, every one flattered himself that he was habited becomingly. Lady Hester and Mr. Bruce little suspected, what proved to be the case, that their exterior was that of small gentry, and Mr. Pearce and myself thought we were far from looking like Chaooshes with our yatagans stuck in our girdles.' Lady Hester, it may be noted, had determined to adopt the dress of a Turkish gentleman, in order that she might travel unveiled, a proceeding that would have been impossible in female costume.

The offer of a passage on a British frigate from Rhodes to Alexandria was gladly accepted by Lady Hester and her friends, and on February 14, 1812, they got their first glimpse of the Egyptian coast. After a fortnight spent in Alexandria, they proceeded to Cairo, where the pasha, who had never seen an Englishwoman of rank before, desired the honour of a visit from Lady Hester. In order to dazzle the eyes of her host, she arrayed herself in a magnificent Tunisian costume of purple velvet, elaborately embroidered in gold. For her turban and girdle she bought two cashmere shawls that cost L50 each, her pantaloons cost L40, her pelisse and waistcoat L50, her sabre L20, and her saddle L35, while other articles necessary for the completion of the costume cost a hundred pounds more. The pasha sent five horses to convey herself and her friends to the palace, and much honour was shown her in the number of silver sticks that walked before her, and in the privilege accorded to her of dismounting at the inner gate. After the interview, the pasha reviewed his troops before his distinguished visitor, and presented her with a charger, magnificently caparisoned, which she sent to England as a present to the Duke of York, her favourite among all the royal princes.

The next move was to Jaffa, where preparations were made for the regulation pilgrimage to Jerusalem. In her youth Lady Hester had been told by Samuel Brothers, the Prophet, that she was to visit Jerusalem, to pass seven years in the desert, to become the Queen of the Jews, and to lead forth a chosen people. Now, as she journeyed towards the Holy City with her cavalcade of eleven camels and thirteen horses, she saw the first part of the prophecy fulfilled, and laughingly avowed that she expected to see its final accomplishment. Lady Hester had now replaced her gorgeous Tunisian dress by a travelling Mameluke's costume, consisting of a satin vest, a red cloth jacket shaped like a spencer, and trimmed with gold lace, and loose, full trousers of the same cloth. Over this she wore a flowing white burnous, whose folds formed a becoming drapery to her majestic figure. In this costume she was generally mistaken by the natives for a young Bey with his moustaches not yet grown, but we are told that her assumption of male dress was severely criticised by the English residents in the Levant.

From Jerusalem the party made a leisurely tour through Syria, visiting Caesarea, Acre, Nazareth, Sayda, where Lady Hester was entertained by her future enemy, the Emir Beshyr, prince of the Druzes, and on September 1, 1812, arrived at Damascus, where a lengthened stay was made. Lady Hester had been warned that it would be dangerous for a woman, unveiled and in man's dress, to enter Damascus, which was then one of the most fanatical towns in all the Turkish dominions. But the granddaughter of Pitt feared neither Turk nor Christian, and rode through the streets daily with uncovered face, and though crowds assembled to see her start, she received honours instead of the expected insults. 'A grave yet pleasing look,' writes her chronicler, 'an unembarrassed yet commanding demeanour, met the ideas of the Turks, whose manners are of this caste.... When it is considered how fanatical the people of Damascus were, and in what great abhorrence they held infidels; that native Christians could only inhabit a particular quarter of the town; and that no one of these could ride on horseback within the walls, or wear as part of his dress any coloured cloth or showy turban, it will be a matter for surprise how completely these prejudices were set aside in favour of Lady Hester, and of those persons who were with her. She rode out every day, and according to the custom of the country, coffee was poured on the ground before her horse to do her honour. It was said that, in going through a bazaar, all the people rose up as she passed, an honour never paid but to a pasha, or to the mufti.'

From the moment of her arrival at Damascus, Lady Hester had busied herself in arranging for a journey to the ruins of Palmyra. The expedition was considered not only difficult but dangerous, and she was assured that a large body of troops would be necessary to protect her from the robber tribes of the desert. While the practicability of the enterprise was still being anxiously discussed by her Turkish advisers, Lady Hester received a visit from a certain Nasar, son of Mahannah, Emir of the Anizys [Footnote: Dr. Meryon's somewhat erratic spelling of Oriental names is followed throughout this memoir.] (the collective name given to several of the Bedouin tribes ranging that part of the desert), who told her that he had heard of her proposed expedition, and that he came to warn her against attempting to cross the desert under military escort, since in that case she would be treated as an enemy by the tribes. But, he added, if she would place herself under the protection of the Arabs, and rely upon their honour, they would pledge themselves to conduct her from Hamah to Palmyra and back again in safety. The result of this interview was that Lady Hester declined the pasha's offer of troops, and leaving the doctor to wind up affairs at Damascus she departed alone, ostensibly for Hamah, a city on the highroad to Aleppo. But having secretly arranged a meeting with the Emir Mahannah in the desert, she rode straight to his camp, accompanied by Monsieur and Madame Lascaris, who were living in the neighbourhood, and by a Bedouin guide. In a letter to General Oakes, dated January 25, 1813, she gives the following account of her first experiment upon the good faith of the Arabs:—

'I went with the great chief, Mahannah el Fadel (who commands 40,000 men), into the desert for a week, and marched for three days with their camp. I was treated with the greatest respect and hospitality, and it was the most curious sight I ever saw; horses and mares fed upon camel's milk; Arabs living upon little else except rice; the space around me covered with living things; 1600 camels coming to water from one tribe only; the old poets from the banks of the Euphrates singing the praises of the ancient heroes; women with lips dyed bright blue, and nails red, and hands all over flowers and different designs; a chief who is obeyed like a great king; starvation and pride so mixed that really I could not have had an idea of it.... However, I have every reason to be perfectly contented with their conduct towards me, and I am the Queen with them all.'

The preparations for the journey occupied nearly two months, the cavalcade being on a magnificent scale. Twenty-two camels were to carry the baggage, twenty-five horsemen formed the retinue, in addition to the Bedouin escort, led by Nasar, the Emir's son. Still the risk was great, for Lady Hester carried with her many articles of value, and of course was wholly at the mercy of her conductors, who got their living by plunder. But she sought the remains of Zenobia as well as the ruins of Palmyra, and had set her heart upon seeing the city which had been governed by one of her own sex, and owed its chief magnificence to her genius. Mr. Bruce, writing to General Oakes just before the start, observes: 'If Lady Hester succeeds in this undertaking, she will at least have the merit of being the first European female who has ever visited this once celebrated city. Who knows but she may prove another Zenobia, and be destined to restore it to its ancient splendour?'

The cavalcade set out on March 20, a sum of about L50 being paid over to the Emir for his escort, with the promise of twice as much more on the safe return of the party. The journey seems to have been uneventful save for the occasional sulks of the Bedouin leader, and the petty thefts of his followers. The inhabitants of Palmyra had been warned of the approach of the 'great white queen,' who rode a mare worth forty purses, and had in her possession a book which instructed her where to find treasure, and a bag of herbs with which she could transmute stones into gold. By way of welcome a body of about two hundred men, armed with matchlocks, went out to meet her, and displayed for her amusement a mock attack on, and defence of, a caravan. The guides led the cavalcade up through the long colonnade, which is terminated by a triumphal arch, the shaft of each of the pillars having a projecting pedestal, or console, on which a statue once stood. 'What was our surprise,' writes Dr. Meryon, 'to see, as we rode up the avenue, that several beautiful girls had been placed on these pedestals in the most graceful postures, and with garlands in their hands.... On each side of the arch other girls stood by threes, while a row of six was arranged across the gate of the arch with thyrsi in their hands. While Lady Hester advanced, these living statues remained immovable on their pedestals; but when she had passed, they leaped to the ground, and joined in a dance by her side. On reaching the triumphal arch, the whole in groups, both men and girls, danced round her. Here some bearded elders chanted verses in her praise, and all the spectators joined in the chorus. Lady Hester herself seemed to partake of the emotions to which her presence in this remote spot had given rise. Nor was the wonder of the Palmyrenes less than our own. They beheld with amazement a woman who had ventured thousands of miles from her own country, and crossed a waste where hunger and thirst were the least of the perils to be dreaded.' It may be observed that the people of Syria, excited by the achievements of Sir Sydney Smith, had begun to imagine that their land might be occupied by the English, and perhaps regarded Lady Hester as an English princess who had come to prepare the way, if not to take possession.

The travellers were only allowed a week in which to examine the ruins of Palmyra, being hurried away by Prince Nasar on the plea that an attack was expected from a hostile tribe. After resting for a time at Hamah, and taking an affectionate farewell of their friendly Bedouins (Lady Hester was enrolled as an Anizy Arab of the tribe of Melken), they journeyed to Laodicea, which was believed to be free from the plague that was raging in other parts of Syria, and here the summer months were spent. In October Mr. Bruce received letters which obliged him to return at once to England, and, as Dr. Meryon observes, 'he therefore reluctantly prepared to quit a lady in whose society he had so long travelled, and from whose conversation and experience of the world so much useful knowledge was to be acquired.' Lady Hester had now renounced the idea of returning to Europe, at any rate for the present. She had some thoughts of taking a journey overland to Bussora, and had also entered into a correspondence with the chief of the Wahabys, with a view to travelling across the desert to visit him in his capital of Deraych; but she finally decided on remaining for some months longer in Syria. She had heard of a house, once a monastery, at Mar Elias, near Sayda (the ancient Sidon), which could be hired for a small rent. The house was taken, the luggage shipped to Sayda, and Lady Hester and her doctor were preparing to follow, when both fell ill of a malignant fever, which they believed to be a species of plague. For some time Lady Hester's life was despaired of, but thanks to her splendid constitution, she pulled through, though she was not strong enough to leave Laodicea until January, 1814.

Lady Hester had now become a sojourner instead of a traveller in the East, and, abandoning European customs altogether, she conformed entirely to the mode of life of the Orientals. Mar Elias, which was situated on a spur of Mount Lebanon, in a barren and rocky region, consisted of a one-storied stone building with flat roofs, enclosing a small paved court. 'Since her illness,' writes Dr. Meryon, 'Lady Hester's character seemed to have changed. She became simple in her habits, almost to cynicism. Scanning men and things with a wonderful intelligence, she commented upon them as if the motives of human action were laid open to her inspection.' The plague having again broken out in the neighbourhood, the party at Mar Elias were insulated upon their rock, and during the early days of their tenancy were in much the same position as the crew of a well-victualled ship at sea, having abundance of fresh provisions, but no books, no newspapers, and no intercourse with the outer world.

In the autumn an expedition to the ruins of Baalbec was undertaken, and at Beyrout, on the way home, a servant brought the news that a Zaym, or Capugi Bashi, [Footnote: Nominally a door-keeper, according to Dr. Meryon, but actually a Turkish official of high rank.] was at that town on his road to Sayda, and was reported to be going to capture Lady Hester, and carry her to Constantinople. Her ladyship received the announcement with her usual composure, and it turned out that she had long expected the Capugi Bashi, and knew the object of his visit. Scarcely had the travellers arrived at Mar Elias than a message came to Lady Hester, requesting her to meet the Zaym at the house of the governor of Sayda, since it was not customary for a Turkish official to go to a Christian's house. But in this case the haughty Moslem had reckoned without his host. Lady Hester returned so spirited an answer that the Zaym at once ordered his horses, and galloped over to Mar Elias. The doctor and the secretary, knowing nothing of the mission, felt considerable doubt of his intentions, and put loaded pistols in their girdles, determined that if he had a bowstring under his robes, no use should be made of it while they had a bullet at his disposal. In the Turkish dominions, it must be understood, a Capugi Bashi seldom comes into the provinces unless for some affair of strangling, beheading, confiscation, or imprisonment, and his presence is the more dreaded, as it is never known on whose head the blow will fall.

In this case, fortunately, the Capugi's visit had no sinister motive. The fact was now divulged that Lady Hester had been given a manuscript, said to have been copied by a monk from the records of a Frank monastery in Syria, which disclosed the hiding-places of immense hoards of money buried in certain specified spots in the cities of Ascalon and Sayda. Lady Hester, having convinced herself of the genuineness of the manuscript, had written to the Sultan through Mr., afterwards Sir Robert, Liston, for permission to make the necessary excavations, at the same time offering to forego all pecuniary benefit that might accrue from her labours. The custom of burying money in times of danger is so common in the East that credence was easily lent to the story, while the fact that treasure might lie for centuries untouched, even though the secret of its existence was known to several persons, was possible in a country where digging among ruins always excites dangerous suspicions in the minds of the authorities, and where the discovery of a jar of coins almost invariably leads to the ruin of the finder, who is supposed to keep back more than he reveals.

The Sultan evidently believed that the matter was worth examination, for he had sent the Capugi from Constantinople to invest Lady Hester with greater authority over the Turks than had ever been granted even to a European ambassador. It was arranged that the first excavations should be made at Ascalon, and though Lady Hester, having only just returned from Baalbec, felt disinclined to set out at once on another long journey, the Zaym urged her to lose no time, and himself went on to Acre to make the necessary preparations. As her income barely sufficed for her own expenditure, she resolved to ask the English Government to pay the cost of her search, holding that the honour which would thereby accrue to the English name was a sufficient justification for her demand.

'I shall beg of you,' she said to Dr. Meryon, 'to keep a regular account of every article, and will then send in my bill to Government by Mr. Liston; when, if they refuse to pay me, I shall put it in the newspapers, and expose them. And this I shall let them know very plainly, as I consider it my right, and not as a favour; for if Sir A. Paget put down the cost of his servants' liveries after his embassy to Vienna, and made Mr. Pitt pay him, L70,000 for four years, I cannot see why I should not do the same.'

On February 15, 1815, Lady Hester left Mar Elias on horseback, followed by her usual retinue, and on arriving at Acre spent about three weeks in preparing for the work at Ascalon. In compliance with the firmans sent by the Porte to all the governors of Syria, she was treated with distinctions usually paid to no one under princely rank. 'Whenever she went out,' writes Dr. Meryon, 'she was followed by a crowd of spectators; and the curiosity and admiration which she had very generally excited throughout Syria were now increased by her supposed influence in the affairs of Government, in having a Capugi Bashi at her command.... No Turk now paid her a visit without wearing his mantle of ceremony, and every circumstance showed the ascendency she had gained in public opinion.' In addition to her own six tents, twenty more were furnished for her suite, besides twenty-two tent-pitchers, twelve mules to carry the baggage, and twelve camels to carry the tents. To Lady Hester's use was appropriated a gorgeous tilted palanquin or litter, covered with crimson cloth, and ornamented with gilded balls. In case she preferred riding, her mare and her favourite black ass were led in front of the litter. A hundred men of the Hawary cavalry escorted the procession, which left Acre on March 18, and arrived at Jaffa ten days later. Here a short halt was made, and on the last day of March they set off for Ascalon, their animals laden with shovels, pickaxes, and baskets. On arriving at their destination the tents were pitched in the midst of the ruins, while a cottage was fitted up for Lady Hester without the walls. Orders were at once despatched to the neighbouring villages for relays of labourers to work at the excavations. These men received no pay, being requisitioned by Government, but they were well fed and humanely treated by their English employer. The excavations were carried on for about a fortnight on the site indicated in the mysterious paper. During the first three days nothing was found except bones, fragments of pillars, and a few vases and bottles; but on the fourth day a fine, though mutilated, colossal statue was discovered, which apparently represented a deified king. Dr. Meryon made a sketch of the marble, and pointed out to Lady Hester that her labours had at least brought to light a treasure that would be valuable in the eyes of lovers of art, and that the ruins would be memorable for the enterprise of a woman who had rescued the remains of antiquity from oblivion. To his astonishment and dismay she replied, 'It is my intention to break up the statue, and have it thrown into the sea, precisely in order that such a report may not get abroad, and I lose with the Porte all the merit of my disinterestedness.' In vain Dr. Meryon represented that such an act would be an unpardonable vandalism, and was the less excusable since the Turks had neither claimed the statue, nor protested against its preservation. Her only answer was: 'Malicious people may say I came to search for antiquities for my country, and not for treasures for the Porte. So, go this instant, take with you half-a-dozen stout fellows, and break it into a thousand pieces.' Michaud, in his account of the affair, says that the Turks clamoured for the destruction of the statue, believing that the trunk was full of gold, and that Lady Hester had it broken up in order to prove to them their error. Be this as it may, reports were afterwards circulated in Ascalon that the statue had actually contained treasure, half of which was handed over to the Porte, and half kept by Lady Hester.

On the sixth day two large stone troughs were discovered, upon which lay four granite pillars. This sight revived the hopes of the searchers, for it was thought that the mass of granite could not have fallen into such a position accidentally, but must have been placed there to conceal something of value. Great was the disappointment of all concerned when, on removing the pillars, the troughs were found to be empty. The excavations of the next four days having produced nothing of any value, the work was brought to an end, by Lady Hester's desire, on April 14. She had come to the conclusion that when Gezzar Pasha embellished the city of Acre by digging for marble among the ruins of Ascalon, he had been fortunate enough to discover the treasure, and she believed that his apparent mania for building was only a cloak to conceal his real motives for excavating. The officials and soldiers were handsomely rewarded for their trouble, and Lady Hester set out on her homeward journey, minus her tents, palanquin, military escort, and other emblems of grandeur, but with no loss of dignity or serenity.

On returning to Mar Elias, she caused some excavations to be made near Sayda, but with no better success, and after a few days the work was abandoned. Lady Hester had been obliged to borrow a sum of money for her expenses from Mr. Barker, the British consul at Aleppo, and now, observes Dr. Meryon, 'as she had throughout proposed to herself no advantage but the celebrity which success would bring on her own name and that of the English nation, and as she had acted with the cognisance of our minister at Constantinople, she fancied that she had a claim upon the English Government for her expenses. Accordingly, she sent our ambassador an account of her proceedings, and after showing that all she had done was for the credit of her country, she asserted her right to be reimbursed. She was unsuccessful, however, in her application, and the expenses weighed heavily upon her means. Yet hitherto she had never been in debt, and by great care and economy she still contrived to keep out of it.'

Lady Hester having apparently decided to spend the remainder of her days in Syria, Dr. Meryon informed her that he was anxious to return to his own country, but that he would not leave her until a substitute had been engaged. Accordingly, Giorgio, the Greek interpreter, was despatched to England to engage the doctor's successor, and to execute a number of commissions for his mistress. During the autumn Lady Hester was actively employed in stirring up the authorities to avenge the death of a French traveller, Colonel Boutin, who had been murdered by the Ansarys on the road between Hamah and Laodicea. As the pasha of the district had made no effort to trace or punish the murderers, she had taken the matter into her own hands, holding that the common cause of travellers demanded that such a crime should not go unpunished. Dr. Meryon vainly tried to dissuade her from this course of action, urging that the French consuls were bound to sift the affair, and that she, in taking so active a part, was exposing herself to the vengeance of the mountain tribes. As usual, the only effect of remonstrance was to make her more determined to persevere in the course she had marked out for herself. In the result, she succeeded in inducing the pasha to send a punitive expedition into the mountains, and herself directed the commandant, by information secretly obtained, where the criminals were to be found. Mustafa Aga Berber, governor of the district, led the expedition, and carried fire and sword into the Ansary country. It was reported that he burnt the villages of the assassins, and sent several heads to the pasha as tokens of his victories. Lady Hester received a vote of thanks from the French Chamber of Deputies, after a speech by Comte Delaborde, explaining the services she had rendered.

News of the great events that were taking place in France had now reached Sayda, and Lady Hester, whose foible it was to think that the successors of Pitt could do no right, was highly displeased at the action of the British Government. She gave vent to her sentiments in the following letter, dated April 1816, to her cousin the Marquis (afterwards Duke) of Buckingham:—

'You cannot doubt that a woman of my character and (I presume to say) understanding must have held in contempt and aversion all the statesmen of the present day, whose unbounded ignorance and duplicity have brought ruin on France, have spread their own shame through all Europe, and have exposed themselves not only to ridicule, but to the curses of present and future generations. One great mind, one single, enlightened statesman, whose virtues had equalled his talents, was all that was wanting to effect, at this unexampled period, the welfare of all Europe, by taking advantage of events the most extraordinary that have occurred in any era.... Cease therefore to torment me. I will not live in Europe, even were I, in flying from it, compelled to beg my bread. Once only will I go to France, to see you and James, but only that once. I will not be a martyr for nothing. The granddaughter of Chatham, the niece of the illustrious Pitt, feels herself blush that she was born in England—that England who has made her accursed gold the counterpoise to justice; that England who puts weeping humanity in irons, who has employed the valour of her troops, destined for the defence of her national honour, as the instrument to enslave a freeborn people; and who has exposed to ridicule and humiliation a monarch [Louis XVIII.] who might have gained the goodwill of his subjects if those intriguing English had left him to stand or fall upon his own merits.'

The announcement of the arrival of the Princess of Wales at Acre, and the possibility that she might extend her journey to Sayda, induced Lady Hester to embark for Antioch, where she professed to have business with the British consul. It was considered an act of great daring on her part to go into a district inhabited entirely by the Ansarys, on whom she had lately wrought so signal a vengeance. But the Ansarys had apparently no desire to bring upon themselves a second punitive expedition, and though Lady Hester spent most of her time in a retired cottage outside the town, in defiance of the warning that her life was in danger, the tribes forbore to molest her. In September she returned to Mar Elias; and, a few weeks later, Giorgio returned from England, bringing with him an English surgeon and twenty-seven packing-cases filled with presents, to be distributed among Lady Hester's Turkish friends and acquaintances. On January 18, 1817, Dr. Meryon, having initiated his successor into Eastern manners and customs, took leave of his employer, and sailed for Europe, little thinking that he would ever set foot in Syria again.



PART II

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

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

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

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

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

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

The house, which had been hired at a rental of L20 from a Turkish merchant, had been greatly enlarged, and the gardens, with their summer-houses, covered alleys, and serpentine walks, were superior to most English gardens of the same size. Lady Hester's constant outlay in building arose from her idea that people would fly to her for succour and protection during the revolutions that she believed to be impending all over the world; her camels, asses, and mules were kept with the same view, and her servants were taught to look forward with awe to events of a supernatural nature, when their services and energies would be taxed to the utmost. In choosing a solitary life in the wilderness, far removed from all the comforts and pleasures of civilisation, Lady Hester seems to have been actuated by her craving for absolute power, which could not be gratified in any European community. It was her pleasure to dwell apart, surrounded by dependants and slaves, and out of reach of that influence and restraint which are necessarily endured by each member of a civilised society. She had become more violent in her temper than formerly, and treated her servants with great severity when they were negligent of their duties. Her maids and female slaves she punished summarily, and boasted that there was nobody who could give such a slap in the face, when required, as she could. At Mar Elias her servants, when tired of her tyranny, frequently absconded by night, and took refuge in Sayda, only two miles away; but at Dar Joon their retreat was cut off by mountain tracts, inhabited only by wolves and jackals, and they were consequently almost helpless in the hands of their stern mistress. The establishment at this time consisted of between thirty and forty servants, labourers, and slaves, most of whom are described as dirty, lazy, and dishonest. Between them they did badly the work that half-a-dozen Europeans would have done respectably, but then the Europeans would not have stood the slaps and scoldings that the natives took as a matter of course.

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

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

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

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

Lady Hester was not above taking a leaf out of the book of her own enemy, the Emir Beshyr, for she used her influence to prevent the villagers from supplying the wants of the recalcitrant family, who now began to make preparations for their departure. They were obliged, however, to wait for remittances from England, and also for Lady Hester's consent to their leaving Joon, since none of the natives would have dared lend their camels or mules for such a purpose, and even the consular agents at Sayda would have declined to mix themselves up in any business which might bring upon them the vengeance of the Queen of the Desert. Meanwhile, a truce seems to have been concluded between the principals, and Lady Hester again invited the doctor's visits, contenting herself with sarcastic remarks about henpecked husbands, and the caprices of foolish women. She graciously consented to dispense with his services about the beginning of April, and promised to engage a vessel at Sayda to convey him and his family to Cyprus. Before his departure she produced a list of her debts, which then amounted to L14,000. The greater part of this sum, which had been borrowed at a high rate of interest from native usurers, had been spent in assisting Abdallah Pasha, the family of the Sheikh Beshyr, and many other victims of political malignity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'HESTER LUCY STANHOPE.'

This was accompanied by a long letter to the Duke of Wellington, in which Lady Hester detailed her services in the East, and expressed her indignation at the treatment she had received. She was now left with only a few pounds upon which to maintain her house-hold until March, when she could draw for L300, apparently the quarter's income from a legacy left her by her brother, but of this sum L200 was due to a Greek merchant at Beyrout. The faithful doctor collected all the money he had in his house, about eleven pounds, and brought it to her for her current expenses, but with her usual impracticability she gave most of it away in charity. Still no letter came from Sir Francis Burdett, and the unfortunate lady, old, sick, and wasted to a skeleton, lay on her sofa and lamented over her troubles in a fierce, inhuman fashion, like a wounded animal at bay. In the course of time a reply came from Lord Palmerston, in which he stated that he had laid Lady Hester's letter before the Queen, and explained to her Majesty the circumstances that might be supposed to have led to her writing it. The communications to which she referred were, he continued, suggested by nothing but a desire to save her from the embarrassments that might arise if her creditors were to call upon the Consul-General to act according to the strict line of his duty. This letter did nothing towards assuaging Lady Hester's wrath. In her reply she sarcastically observed:—

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

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

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

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

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

This, alas, was the last time that Lady Hester had the opportunity of playing the queen, or entertaining a distinguished guest at Dar Joon. In June, when the packet brought no news of her imaginary property, and no apology from Queen or Premier, she began at last to despair. 'The die is cast,' she told Dr. Meryon, 'and the sooner you take yourself off the better. I have no money; you can be of no use to me—I shall write no more letters, and shall break up my establishment, wall up my gate, and, with a boy and girl to wait upon me, resign myself to my fate. Tell your family they may make their preparations, and be gone in a month's time.' Early in July Sir Francis Burdett's long-expected letter arrived, but brought with it no consolation. He could tell nothing of the legacy, but wrote in the soothing, evasive terms that might be supposed suitable to an elderly lady who was not quite accountable for her ideas or actions. As there was now no hope of any improvement in her affairs, Lady Hester decided to execute her threat of walling up her gateway, a proceeding which, she was unable to perceive, injured nobody but herself. She directed the doctor to pay and dismiss her servants, with the exception of two maids and two men, and then sent him to Beyrout to inform the French consul of her intention. On his return to Joon he found that Lady Hester had already hired a vessel to take himself and his family from Sayda to Cyprus. He was reluctant to leave her in solitude and wretchedness, but knowing that when once her mind was made up, nothing could shake her resolution, he employed the time that remained to him in writing her letters, setting her house in order, and taking her instructions for commissions in Europe. He also begged to be allowed to lend her as much money as he could spare, and she consented to borrow a sum of 2000 piastres (about L80), which she afterwards repaid.

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

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

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

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

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

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



PRINCE PUeCKLER-MUSKAU IN ENGLAND

PART I



During the early and middle decades of the nineteenth century there was no more original and picturesque figure among the minor celebrities of Germany—one might almost say of Europe—than that of his Highness, Hermann Ludwig Heinrich, Prince Pueckler-Muskau. Throughout his long career we find this princeling playing many parts—at once an imitation Werter, a sentimental Don Juan, a dandy who out-dressed D'Orsay, a sportsman and traveller of Muenchhausen type, a fashionable author who wrote German with a French accent and a warrior who seems to have wandered out of the pages of mediaeval romance. Yet with all his mock-heroic notoriety, the toller Pueckler was by no means destitute of those practical qualities which tempered the Teutonic Romanticism, even in its earliest and most extravagant developments. He was skilled in all manly exercises, a brave soldier, an intelligent observer, and—his most substantial claim to remembrance—the father of landscape-gardening in Germany, a veritable magician who transformed level wastes into wooded landscapes and made the sandy wildernesses blossom like the rose.