and no fear of intruders. There was a freedom from gêne (one might say a comfort) which Miss Agnes said was her doing, from a talent she possessed of arranging chairs and sofas in the most extraordinary manner; in fact, there was a charm about these gatherings of friends, that hereafter we may say, 'There is no salon to compare to that of the Miss Berrys in Curzon Street.' Literary and artistic folk mingled with political and social big-wigs. Among the frequenters were Henry Luttrell, now almost forgotten, though his Advice to Julia still repays perusal; Thomas Lawrence, Maria Edgeworth, Samuel Rogers, the Abercorns, the Glenbervies, the Keiths, the Rosslyns, Sir William Gell, Lady Charlotte Campbell, Brougham, William Windham, John William Ward, Professor Playfair, Sir Philip Francis, Lady Charlotte Lamb, the Mintos, the Aberdeens, Lady Charlotte Lindsay, the Devonshires, the Carlisles, the Granvilles, Lord Colchester, Lord Dover, Lord Jeffrey, Richard Westmacott, the Duke of Sutherland, Sarah Austin, the Brookfields, the Carlyles, Sydney Smith, and Thackeray.

"Miss

At last Agnes Berry's health began to give way. Agnes seemed more failing day by day; those who loved them still assembled in the little drawing-room to try and maintain its cheerfulness of old, but it was in vain; a shadow had fallen over the bright salon, and we all felt these charming reunions were drawing to an end," Kate Perry wrote in 1849. "We knew Miss Agnes could not be long with us, and Miss Berry felt this also, and, when alone with Jane Brookfield and me, continually spoke about her, but more as she remembered her in her youth -the pretty, charming girl with whom Gustavus Adolphus danced at one of his Court balls, and was admired and envied by the other ladies present. She

not only dwelt on her prettiness, but her graciousness and simplicity of manner, her talent for drawing, and of her delightful disposition, but then (with a touch of that self-estimation which belonged to her character) added, 'But she had not my intellectual powers, she could not reason so well'; then, perhaps feeling that these qualified remarks were unkindly, continued, 'But then she had every charm a woman ought to possess.' 'I can never forget,' she said with emotion, ' her lovable expression when she threw her arms round my neck and said, "Oh, Mary, the only shadow to my happiness in marrying Robert Ferguson is leaving you." Then Miss Berry's voice faltered, recalling, no doubt, her own disappointment in love as well as her sister's. But it was destined that we should never be separated in life. Oh! now this parting is very terrible, after nearly ninety years of happy communion together; but it will not be for long, she has only gone one stage before me.' She ceased speaking, suddenly her eyes were full of tears, the first I had ever seen her shed, but the brave old lady tried to conceal them, and after a few minutes spoke on some indifferent subject."

Agnes Berry survived until January, 1852, and in these last years, though she could not be present at the reunions, she begged her friends to come as usual, as "it is less dull for poor Mary." Mary Berry followed her sister to the grave in the following November.

CHAPTER VII

LADIES-IN-WAITING LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL (1775–

1861). LADY ANNE

HAMILTON (1776-1846).

CHARLOTTE LINDSAY

LADY

Diary relative to the Times of George the Fourth-It is bitterly attacked by Thackeray-Attributed to Lady Charlotte Campbell-Lady Charlotte's beauty-Her first marriage-She becomes a Lady-inWaiting to the Princess of Wales-Her second marriage—Her taste for letters-Her several novels-Her friendship with Mary and Agnes Berry-Not responsible for the publication of the Diary-The indignation of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe-Lady Charlotte's liking for the Princess-Her loyalty-Lady Anne Hamilton-Another Lady-inWaiting of the Princess-She supports her Royal Highness at the trial-Not very popular with the Princess-A Secret History of the Court of England wrongfully attributed to her-Lady Charlotte Lindsay a third Lady-in-Waiting-She gives favourable evidence at the trial.

IN The Times of January 11, 1838, there is a review of Love, which novel is, according to the title-page, "By the authoress of Flirtation." The writer of the review, however, states that Love is the work of Lady Charlotte Bury. The same reviewer, in the same issue of The Times, deals with a Diary relative to the Times of George the Fourth, interspersed with Original Letters from the late Queen Caroline and from various other Distinguished Persons. This anonymous work, from internal evidence, was also attributed, and, as is now known, rightly attributed, to Lady Charlotte Bury (née Campbell).

"We may read this diary, and say, indeed, it is ridicule to bear a towering name, or to pretend to the old virtue which characterised it, or to the honour which formerly belonged to it. It is a ridicule indeed to come of a noble race, and uphold the well-known honour of

an ancient line. What matters it if you can read in your family record the history of a thousand years of loyalty and courage, of all that is noble in sentiment, honest and brave in action?—the pride of ancestors is a faded superstition-the emulation of them a needless folly. There is no need now to be loyal to your prince, or tender to his memory. Take his bounty while living, share his purse and his table, gain his confidence, and learn his secrets, flatter him, cringe to him, vow to him an unbounding fidelity-and, when he is dead, write a diary and betray him."

The Times reviewer, who was none other than William Makepeace Thackeray, then in his twenty-eighth year and at the beginning of his literary career, had another smack at this book in a letter from Charles Yellowplush, Esq., to Oliver Yorke, Esq., which, under the title of "Skimmings from the 'Diary of George IV"" appeared in Fraser's Magazine in March 1838:

And now, after this sublime passidge, as full of awfle reflections and pious sentyments as those of Mrs. Cole in the play, I shall only quot one little extrak more :

"All goes gloomily with the poor Princess Lady Charlotte Campbell told me she regrets not seeing all these curious personages; but she says, the more the Princess is forsaken, the more happy she is at having offered to attend her at this time. This is very amiable in her and cannot fail to be gratifying to the Princess.'

"So it is-wery amiable, wery kind and considerate in her, indeed. Poor Princess! how lucky you was to find a frend who loved you for your own sake, and when all the rest of the wuld turned its back kep steady to you. As for beleaving that Lady Sharlot

had any hand in this book, Heaven forbid ! she is all gratitude, pure gratitude, depend upon it. She would not

go

for to blacken her old frend and patron's carrickter, after having been so outragusly faithful to her? she wouldn't do it, at no price, depend upon it. How sorry she must be that others a'nt quite so squemish, and show up in this indesent way the follies of her kind, genrus, foolish bennyfactris."

This recalls the lines written about another indiscreet chronicler :

For fifty years he listened at the door,

And heard some secrets and invented more;

These he wrote down, and statesmen, queens, and kings

Were all degraded into common things.

Though most have passed away, some still remain

To whom such scandal gives a needless pain;
And though they smile and say, ""Tis only Greville,"
They wish him, Reeve and Longman at the devil.

Lady Charlotte Susan Maria Campbell, who was born in 1775, was the youngest child of John Campbell, fifth Duke of Argyll, by his wife, Elizabeth, the younger of the beautiful Gunning sisters, who had married, first, James Hamilton, sixth Duke of Hamilton. She inherited much of the beauty and charm of her mother, and kept her looks for many a long year. "Everybody admires the youngest daughter's person and understanding," Walpole wrote to the Misses Berry in 1791; and there is a note by Croker: "Thought by the bestjudging of her contemporaries the most beautiful creature ever seen. I saw her in 1801, still magnificent, whole theatres turning round to look at her ; but twenty years later she had grown coarse, and one of the most mortifying spectacles of dilapidated, but still pretentious beauty I could imagine."