Adeline Horsey Recollections. After mamma's death I kept house for papa at 8 Upper Grosvenor Street. My brothers were rarely at home. [his future brother-in-law] William (age 17) was educated at Eton [Map], and when he was sixteen years old the Duke of Wellington (age 73) gave him a commission in the Grenadier Guards. Later he went through the Crimean War, and he retired from the Army in 1883, on account of ill-health, with the rank of Lieutenant-General.

Algernon (age 16) entered the Navy in 1840 as a midshipman, and the same year took part in the operations on the coast of Syria. After the battle of Acre he received the Turkish medal and clasps: his promotion was rapid, and as Admiral, his flagship, the Shah, engaged the Huascar, which he forced to surrender to the Peruvian authorities.

Now that I was so much alone I occasionally found time hang heavy on my hands, and I welcomed any excitement as a break in the monotony, for of course our period of mourning prevented us entertaining or accepting invitations. One day my maid told me about a fortune-teller who had a wonderful gift for predicting the future. I was very much interested, and made up my mind to consult the oracle. My maid attempted to dissuade me, saying that the woman lived in Bridge Street, Westminster, which was not at all a nice neighbourhood. I have always had my own way and, disguised in a borrowed cloak, bonnet and thick veil, and accompanied by my protesting servant, I started off to Bridge Street late one November afternoon.

It was dusk when we reached Westminster and found Bridge Street, badly lighted and evil-smelling. We knocked at the door, stated whom we wished to see, and we were ushered through a dark passage into a dirty room reeking of tobacco.

The fortune-teller was a wrinkled old woman who was smoking a short clay pipe with evident enjoyment. When I told her what I had come for, she produced a greasy pack of cards, and after I had "crossed her pahn" she commenced to tell my future.

"Ah!" said she at last, and she looked curiously, "my pretty young lady, fate holds a great deal in store for you. You will not marry for several years, but when you do it will be to a widower - a man in a high position. You will suffer much unkindness before you experience real happiness, you will obtain much and lose much, you will marry again after your husband's death, and you will live to a great age".

I was quite impressed by my "fortune", but I was a little disappointed, for like most girls I had my day-dreams of a young husband, and the prospect of a widower was thus rather depressing.

Strangely enough, the prediction came true, for Lord Cardigan (age 45) was a widower, and nearly all the men who proposed to me were widowers ! I was asked in marriage by Lord Sherborne (age 38), a widower with ten children; by the Duke of Leeds (age 40), who was a widower with eleven children, and by Christopher Maunsell Talbot (age 39), once Father of the House of Commons, also a widower with four children. Prince Soltykoff, the Duke of St. Albans (age 41), Harry Howard, and Disraeli (age 38) were other widowers who proposed to me, so I suppose I must have had some unaccountable fascination for bereaved husbands.

Adeline Horsey Recollections. If Lord Cardigan (age 50) and I had met in 1909 instead of in 1857 no particular comment would have been made on our friendship, but in 1857 Society was scandalised because I had the courage to ride and drive with a married man who had an unfaithful wife.

There was another and a stronger reason for the wagging tongues of slander, for they were prompted by jealousy. [his wife] Lady Cardigan (age 50) was then very ill, and every one knew that her death was only a question of a year or two. Once free, Lord Cardigan (age 50) would be a prize well worth winning by match-making matrons with marriageable daughters, and his openly avowed affection for me had put an end to these hopes, I was not in the least disturbed by the incessant gossip, but my [his future father-in-law] father (age 58) and my brothers were much worried and annoyed at the reports which were circulated, and although Lady Georgina Codrington (age 31) wrote to my father and begged him not to make a fuss about things, he suddenly became very angry and declared he would leave London for good and take me with him.

A most distressing scene followed. I said that, as there was no evil in my friendship with Lord Cardigan (age 50), I refused to give up his acquaintance, or to be taken into the country against my will, and I steadily defied my father and brothers to make me alter my decision. Family quarrels are, perhaps, the most rankling of any, for they are generally retaliative, and much is said that is never forgotten or quite forgiven; ours was no exception, and the result of it was that I decided to leave home. With me, to think has always been to act, so I ordered my horse "Don Juan" to be brought round, and I rode away to liberty. My own income rendered me perfectly independent; I put up at a quiet hotel in Hyde Park Square, and looked about for a furnished house. I did not go into exile alone, for my father's valet, Mathews, came with me, and his fidelity was well rewarded when he entered Lord Cardigan's service after our marriage.

I was lucky enough to find a charming little furnished house in Norfolk Street Park Lane, and I installed myself there with Mathews and three other servants. It was a quiet household, and although at first things seemed strange to me, I was very happy. I rode with Cardigan (age 50) every day in the Park [Map], regardless of the averted glances of those who had once called themselves my friends. I often wonder why friendship is so apostrophised, for real friends in trouble are practically non-existent, especially at the moment they are most needed. The ideal friend, whose aim in life should be to forget "base self", as the poets say, is as extinct as the Dodo, and those who talk most about friendship are usually the first to forget what is the true meaning of the word.

Adeline Horsey Recollections. For twelve years Cardigan (age 50) remained a grass widower, consoled by many fair friends, and bills no doubt being as numerous then as they are now, certain ladies were always ready to stop at Deene [Map] without their husbands.

I knew [his wife] Lady Cardigan (age 50) quite well, and on my first visit to Deene with my mother in 1842 she was very kind, and gave me some beautiful Northamptonshire lace, which I still possess.

There is a not unamusing story told about her and a certain Mrs. Browne, well known in Society. Mrs. Browne had fallen desperately in love with Lord Cardigan (age 50), and although she did not know him she sent him quantities of billets doux begging for an interview. Lady Cardigan (age 50) accidentally got hold of one of these letters, and she determined to play a trick on the love-sick lady. Mr. Baldwin, a very handsome man, was Cardigan's (age 50) agent at the time, and Lady Cardigan (age 50) persuaded him to personate her husband, and keep a bogus appointment she had made with Mrs. Browne.

The unsuspecting lady received a note purporting to come from Cardigan, saying he would visit her on a certain evening. He further stipulated that as he was so well known he did not wish to see any of Mrs. Browne's servants, and that she must receive him in the dark ! Any one but an infatuated woman would have queried the genuineness of the letter, but Mrs. Browne did not, and when Mr. Baldwin arrived, he was duly received in darkness as black as Erebus. He and Mrs. Browne were mutually well pleased with the result of their meeting, and under cover of the darkness of the small hours of a winter's morning they said good-bye. It was not until long afterwards that Mrs. Browne found out that she had entertained an agent unawares, and no doubt she hated Lady Cardigan (age 50) for the unkind deception of which she had been the victim.

Adeline Horsey Recollections. On the morning of July 12, 1858, I was awakened by a loud knocking at the front door. I looked at my watch, and saw that it was not seven o'clock; I was, needless to say, very alarmed, as I wondered whether anything had happened to my father or my brothers. The knocking continued - I heard the bolts drawn, the door opened, and a voice I knew well called impatiently for me. It was Lord Cardigan (age 60) ! I had just time to slip on a dressing-gown before he came into my room, sans ceremonie, and taking me in his arms he said, "' My dearest, [his wife] she's (age 60) dead ... let's get married at once". Then I knew that the trying period of our probation was over, and that we were free to be happy together at last.

When Cardigan (age 60) grew calmer he told me he had just come from his wife's (age 60) death-bed. The poor lady (age 60) had urged him to marry me, saying she knew that I should make him happy. She had also warned him against Maria, Marchioness of Ailesbury (age 45), the extent of whose love affairs, it appears, was only known to Lady Cardigan (age 60), who told his Lordship (age 60) the unvarnished truth about them.

Note A. I did not wish to insult the memory of the dead woman (age 60), who had shown me so many kindnesses, I refused to marry Cardigan (age 60) until some time had elapsed. He went to Ireland in his official capacity of Inspector of Cavalry, and I lived on quietly at Norfolk Street till September, when I left London for Cowes. I then went on board Lord Cardigan's yacht the Airedale, where he and a party of friends were awaiting me, and we sailed for Gibraltar.

Nothing particular occurred en route; we were all in the best of spirits, and I felt as though I were the Princess in some delightful fairy-tale. The day after we arrived at Gibraltar there was a terrible storm, almost tropical in its violence. Roofs were torn off houses and whirled, light as dead leaves, through the air, great trees were uprooted, heavy masonry fell everywhere, and the ships tossed about like cockle-shells in the harbour. It was almost a scene from the Inferno, and our horror was intensified when we saw the signals from a French vessel in distress. Nobody seemed inclined to put out, so I begged Lord Cardigan (age 60) to send the Airedale to try and save the crew. He assented, and through this timely aid from our yacht fourteen men were rescued, and we also took a French poodle off a raft to which he was clinging, his owner doubtless having been drowned.

Adeline Horsey Recollections. On September 28, 1858, my marriage took place at the Military Chapel Gibraltar, and I was the first Countess of Cardigan to be married on foreign soil, I wore a white silk gown draped with a blue scarf, and a large hat adorned with many feathers; Lord Cardigan's (age 60) friends, Stuart Paget, Mrs, Paget and the Misses Paget, were present, and we gave a ball on the yacht in the evening. We spent a very gay week at Gibraltar, and then left for Cádiz, touching at Malacca and Alicante; then we took rail to Madrid, where we arrived on October 16 in time to witness a review of 30,000 troops on Queen Isabella's (age 27) birthday. After a short stay at Madrid we rejoined the Airedale at Barcelona, and went 500 miles by sea to Leghorn. We experienced bad weather and many storms, and every one on board was ill except myself. The cook was a great sufferer, and his absence was naturally felt by those who were able to look at food without aversion.

From Leghorn we went to Elba, when I saw the place Napoleon embarked from after the "hundred days". We left the Airedale at Civiti Vecchia and started for Rome, Italy in our travelling-carriage with six horses, escorted by some of the Papal Guard sent by the Pope to protect us. I met many of my friends in the Eternal City; I saw everything worth seeing during my delightful sojourn there, and before we left Lord Cardigan and I were blessed by the Pope at an audience we had with his Holiness. As I wished to go to Genoa by sea, we returned to Civita Vecchia and set out in the yacht for Genoa, where we landed; we went from there to Turin, and on by rail by the Mont Cenis route to Paris [Map].

Paris was then a city of delight, revelling in the palmy days of the Second Empire, and I greatly enjoyed my visit there. One night I went to the Opera with Cardigan and we saw Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Trelawney in a box. Mrs. Trelawney was the famous Miss Howard, once the English mistress of Louis Napoleon (age 50), who paid her £250,000 when he renounced her to marry Eugenie de Montijo (age 32). Mrs. Trelawney annoyed the Emperor (age 50) and Empress (age 32) as much as she dared by sitting opposite the Royal box at the Opera, and driving almost immediately behind the Empress's (age 32) carriage in the Bois de Boulogne. She was a very fat woman, and her embonpoint increased to such an extent that the doors of her carriage had to be enlarged to allow her to get in and out with comfort.

Clarence Trelawney was a friend of mine, and the poor fellow came to a sad end. After his wife's death he married an American lady, but unfortunately he got into debt. He appealed to his relations, who were very wealthy but apparently equally mean, for they refused to lend him the £400 he asked for, and driven desperate by worry he blew out his brains.

From Paris we came to London and stayed at Lord Cardigan's town-house in Portman Square Marylebone; then we went to Deene [Map] on December 14, where we met with a royal reception, six hundred tenants on horseback escorting our carriage from the station to the house.

Adeline Horsey Recollections. One of my most amusing experiences about this time originated in my wish to see a rather risque play at the Princess's Theatre.

"Papa", said I one morning at breakfast, "I wish you would take me to the Princess's Theatre: every one's talking about the play. Do let us go this evening".

"Quite impossible", answered papa, with great decision. "Quite impossible, Adeline - I am dining to-night with General Cavendish at the Club, a long-standing engagement, and", he continued, in a tone of conscious virtue, "even if I were disengaged, I should not think of taking my daughter to see such a play; nothing, my dear, is so degrading as a public display of lax morals, and it is the duty of every self-respecting person to discountenance such a performance. Let me hear no more about it "; and he opened the Times with an air of finality.

The evergreen fabrication of "going to the Club", the most obvious and clumsy of lies invented by man to deceive woman, was as flourishing then as it is to-day. Perhaps it was more successful, as the telephone was not invented. I quite believed papa's statement, but I was deceived, as subsequent events proved.

I was very much annoyed. All the morning I brooded over papa's refusal, and then I suddenly made up my mind that I would go to the play in spite of him.

I rang for my maid. "Parker", I said, "go at once to the Princess's Theatre and bespeak a box for me, and be ready to come with me to-night".

"Alone, miss?" ventured Parker.

"Yes, alone, now don't waste a moment "; and no sooner had she set off than I wrote and despatched a letter to Lord Cardigan, who was a friend of papa, and asked him to come to my box at the Princess's that evening.

Parker and I arrived early and I settled down to enjoy myself. The overture commenced, and I was just about to inspect the audience when Lord Cardigan came into the box; he was rather agitated. "Miss de Horsey", he said, without any preliminaries, "you must leave the theatre at once".

"I'll do no such thing", I cried angrily. "What on earth is the matter? ".

"Well", reluctantly answered Cardigan - "well, Miss de Horsey, your father and General Cavendish are in the box opposite - with" (he looked at me apologetically) - "with their mistresses ! It will never do for you to be seen. Do, I implore you, permit me to escort you home before the performance begins".

I was seized with an uncontrollable desire to laugh. So this was the long-standing engagement, this papa's parade of morality ! I peeped out from the curtains of the box - it was quite true; directly opposite to me there sat papa and the General, with two very pretty women I did not remember seeing before.

"I shall see the play", I said to Lord Cardigan, "and you'll put me into a cab before it is over; I shall be home before papa returns from - the ' Club ' "; and I laughed again at the idea.

I spent a most exciting evening hidden behind the curtains, and I divided my attention between papa and the performance. About the middle of the last act we left. Lord Cardigan hailed a hackney-carriage and gave the driver directions where to go; he then wished me good-night and a safe return. It was a foggy evening, and the drive seemed interminable. I became impatient. "Parker", I said, "lower the window and tell the man to make haste".

Parker obeyed, and I heard an angry argument in the fog. She sat down with a horrified face and announced: "we are nearly at Islington [Map] - and the driver's drunk!".

Here was a pretty state of things!" Parker, tell him to stop at once". She did so, and I got out to ascertain what was happening. The man was drunk, but I succeeded in frightening him into turning his horse's head in the direction of Upper Grosvenor Street, and we set off again.

Theatres were "out" much earlier then than now, but it must have taken a long time to reach Mayfair, for I heard midnight strike when the cab stopped at the end of the street. I sent Parker on to open the door while I paid the man, and I devoutly hoped the "Club" had proved attractive enough to prevent papa returning; home before me. As I stood in front of No. 8 the door was opened - not by Parker but by papa. I felt I was in for a mauvais quart d'heure, but I walked quietly into the hall. "Adeline", said papa in an awful voice, "explain yourself. Where have you been.-* Is this an hour for a young lady to be out of doors? How dare you conduct yourself in this manner? ". The courage of despair seized me - and, let me confess it, a spice of devilment also. I faced my angry parent quite calmly. "I've been to the Princess's Theatre, papa, I said demurely (he started); and I saw you and General Cavendish there; I thought you were dining at the Club ... and I saw .. ".. "Go to bed at once, Adeline", interrupted papa, looking very sheepish, "we'll talk about your behaviour later". But he never mentioned the subject to me again !