In giving to Mrs. Colonel Poyntz the appellation of Queen of the
Hill, let there be no mistake. She was not a constitutional sovereign;
her monarchy was absolute. All her proclamations had the force of laws.

Such ascendancy could not have been attained without considerable
talents for acquiring and keeping it. Amidst all her off-hand, brisk,
imperious frankness, she had the ineffable discrimination of tact.
Whether civil or rude, she was never civil or rude but what she carried
public opinion along with her. Her knowledge of general society must
have been limited, as must be that of all female sovereigns; but she
seemed gifted with an intuitive knowledge of human nature, which she
applied to her special ambition of ruling it. I have not a doubt that if
she had been suddenly transferred, a perfect stranger, to the world of
London, she would have soon forced her way to its selectest circles,
and, when once there, held her own against a duchess.

I have said that she was not affected: this might be one cause of
her sway over a set in which nearly every other woman was trying rather to
seem, than to be, a somebody.

Put if Mrs. Colonel Poyntz was not artificial, she was artful, or
perhaps I might more justly say artistic. In all she said and did there
were conduct, system, plan. She could be a most serviceable friend, a
most damaging enemy; yet I believe she seldom indulged in strong likings
or strong hatreds. All was policy,--a policy akin to that of a grand
party chief, determined to raise up those whom, for any reason of state,
it was prudent to favour, and to put down those whom, for any reason of
state, it was expedient to humble or to crush.

Ever since the controversy with Dr. Lloyd, this lady had honoured me