Margot Asquith, an Autobiography Part 9
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The two kings that I have known have had in a high degree both physical and moral courage and have shown a sense of duty unparalleled in the Courts of Europe; it is this that has given them their stability; and added to this their simplicity of nature has won for them our lasting love.
They have been exceptionally fortunate in their private secretaries: Lord Knollys and Lord Stamfordham are liberal-minded men of the highest honour and discretion; and I am proud to call them my friends.
Before I knew the Prince and Princess of Wales, I did not go to fas.h.i.+onable b.a.l.l.s, but after that Ascot I was asked everywhere. I was quite unconscious of it at the time, but was told afterwards that people were beginning to criticise me; one or two incidents might have enlightened me had I been more aware of myself.
One night, when I was dining tete-a-tete with my beloved friend, G.o.dfrey Webb, in his flat in Victoria Street, my father sent the brougham for me with a message to ask if I would accompany him to supper at Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill's, where we had been invited to meet the Prince of Wales. I said I should be delighted if I could keep on the dress that I was wearing, but as it was late and I had to get up early next day I did not want to change my clothes; he said he supposed my dress would be quite smart enough, so we drove to the Randolph Churchills' house together.
I had often wanted to know Lord Randolph, but it was only a few days before the supper that I had had the good fortune to sit next to him at dinner. When he observed that he had been put next to a "miss," he placed his left elbow firmly on the table and turned his back upon me through several courses. I could not but admire the way he appeared to eat everything with one hand. I do not know whether it was the lady on his right or what it was that prompted him, but he ultimately turned round and asked me if I knew any politicians. I told him that, with the exception of himself, I knew them all intimately. This surprised him, and after discussing Lord Rosebery--to whom he was devoted--he said:
"Do you know Lord Salisbury?"
I told him that I had forgotten his name in my list, but that I would like above everything to meet him; at which he remarked that I was welcome to all his share of him, adding:
"What do you want to know him for?"
MARGOT: "Because I think he is amazingly amusing and a very fine writer."
LORD RANDOLPH (muttering something I could not catch about Salisbury lying dead at his feet): "I wish to G.o.d that I had NEVER known him!"
MARGOT: "I am afraid you resigned more out of temper than conviction, Lord Randolph." At this he turned completely round and, gazing at me, said:
"Confound your cheek! What do you know about me and my convictions? I hate Salisbury! He jumped at my resignation like a dog at a bone. The Tories are ungrateful, short-sighted beasts. I hope you are a Liberal?"
I informed him that I was and exactly what I thought of the Tory party; and we talked through the rest of dinner. Towards the end of our conversation he asked me who I was. I told him that, after his manners to me in the earlier part of the evening, it was perhaps better that we should remain strangers. However, after a little chaff, we made friends and he said that he would come and see me in Grosvenor Square.
On the night of the supper-party, I was wearing a white muslin dress with transparent chemise sleeves, a fichu and a long skirt with a Nattier blue taffeta sash. I had taken a bunch of rose carnations out of a gla.s.s and pinned them into my fichu with three diamond ducks given me by Lord Carmichael, our delightful Peebless.h.i.+re friend and neighbour.
On my arrival at the Churchills', I observed all the fine ladies wearing ball-dresses off the shoulder and their tiaras. This made me very conspicuous and I wished profoundly that I had changed into something smarter before going out.
The Prince of Wales had not arrived and, as our hostess was giving orders to the White Hungarian Band, my father and I had to walk into the room alone.
I saw several of the ladies eyeing my toilette, and having painfully sharp ears I heard some of their remarks:
"Do look at Miss Tennant! She is in her night-gown!"
"I suppose it is meant to be 'ye olde Englishe pictury!' I wonder she has not let her hair down like the Juliets at the Oakham b.a.l.l.s!"
Another, more charitable, said:
"I daresay no one told her that the Prince of Wales was coming.
... Poor child! What a shame!"
And finally a man said:
"There is nothing so odd as the pa.s.sion some people have for self- advertis.e.m.e.nt; it only shows what it is to be intellectual!"
At that moment our hostess came up to us with a charming accueil.
The first time I saw Lady Randolph was at Punchestown races, in 1887, where I went with my new friends, Mrs. Bunbury, Hatfield Harter and Peter Flower. I was standing at the double when I observed a woman next to me in a Black Watch tartan skirt, braided coat and astrachan hussar's cap. She had a forehead like a panther's and great wild eyes that looked through you; she was so arresting that I followed her about till I found some one who could tell me who she was.
Had Lady Randolph Churchill been like her face, she could have governed the world.
My father and I were much relieved at her greeting; and while we were talking the Prince of Wales arrived. The ladies fell into position, ceased chattering and made subterranean curtsies. He came straight up to me and told me I was to sit on the other side of him at supper. I said, hanging my head with becoming modesty and in a loud voice:
"Oh no, Sir, I am not dressed at all for the part! I had better slip away, I had no notion this was going to be such a smart party ... I expect some of the ladies here think I have insulted them by coming in my night-gown!"
I saw every one straining to hear what the Prince's answer would be, but I took good care that we should move out of earshot. At that moment Lord Hartington [Footnote: The late Duke of Devons.h.i.+re.] came up and told me I was to go in to supper with him. More than ever I wished I had changed my dress, for now every one was looking at me with even greater curiosity than hostility.
The supper was gay and I had remarkable talks which laid the foundation of my friends.h.i.+p both with King Edward and the Duke of Devons.h.i.+re. The Prince told me he had had a dull youth, as Queen Victoria could not get over the Prince Consort's death and kept up an exaggerated mourning. He said he hoped that when I met his mother I should not be afraid of her, adding, with a charming smile, that with the exception of John Brown everybody was. I a.s.sured him with perfect candour that I was afraid of no one. He was much amused when I told him that before he had arrived that evening some of the ladies had whispered that I was in my night- gown and I hope he did not think me lacking in courtesy because I had not put on a ball-dress. He a.s.sured me that on the contrary he admired my frock very much and thought I looked like an old picture. This remark made me see uncomfortable visions of the Oakham ball and he did not dispel them by adding:
"You are so original! You must dance the cotillion with me."
I told him that I could not possibly stay, it would bore my father stiff, as he hated sitting up late; also I was not dressed for dancing and had no idea there was going to be a ball. When supper was over, I made my best curtsy and, after presenting my father to the Prince, went home to bed.
Lord Hartington told me in the course of our conversation at supper that Lady Grosvenor [Footnote: The Countess of Grosvenor.]
was by far the most dangerous syren in London and that he would not answer for any man keeping his head or his heart when with her, to which I entirely agreed.
When the London season came to an end we all went up to Glen.
Here I must retrace my steps.
In the winter of 1880 I went to stay with my sister, Lucy Graham Smith, in Wilts.h.i.+re.
I was going out hunting for the first time, never having seen a fox, a hound or a fence in my life; my heart beat as my sisters superintending my toilette put the last hair-pin into a crinkly knot of hair; I pulled on my top-boots and, running down to the front door, found Ribblesdale, who was mounting me, waiting to drive me to the meet. Hounds met at Christian Malford station.
Not knowing that with the Duke of Beaufort's hounds every one wore blue and buff, I was disappointed at the appearance of the field.
No one has ever suggested that a touch of navy blue improves a landscape; and, although I had never been out hunting before, I had looked forward to seeing scarlet coats.
We moved off, jostling each other as thick as sardines, to draw the nearest cover. My mount was peac.o.c.king on the gra.s.s when suddenly we heard a "Halloa!" and the whole field went hammering like John Gilpin down the hard high road.
Plunging through a gap, I dashed into the open country. Storm flung herself up to the stars over the first fence and I found myself seated on the wettest of wet ground, angry but unhurt; all the stragglers--more especially the funkers--agreeably diverted from pursuing the hunt, galloped off to catch my horse. I walked to a cottage; and nearly an hour afterwards Storm was returned to me.
After this contretemps my mount was more amenable and I determined that nothing should unseat me again. Not being hurt by a fall gives one a sense of exhilaration and I felt ready to face an arm of the sea.
The scattered field were moving aimlessly about, some looking for their second horses, some eating an early sandwich, some in groups laughing and smoking and no one knowing anything about the hounds; I was a little away from the others and wondering--like all amateurs--why we were wasting so much time, when a fine old gentleman on a huge horse came up to me and said, with a sweet smile:
"Do you always whistle out hunting?"
MARGOT: "I didn't know I was whistling ... I've never hunted before."
STRANGER: "Is this really the first time you've ever been out with hounds?"
MARGOT: "Yes, it is."
STRANGER: "How wonderfully you ride! But I am sorry to see you have taken a toss."
MARGOT: "I fell off at the first fence, for though I've ridden all my life I've never jumped before."
STRANGER: "Were you frightened when you fell?"
Margot Asquith, an Autobiography Part 9
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Margot Asquith, an Autobiography Part 9 summary
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