ON THE CONTINENT (1739-1744)
Lady Mary leaves England--She does not return for twenty years--Montagu
supposed to join her--The domestic relations of the Montagus--A
septennial act for marriage--Lady Mary corresponds with her
husband--Dijon--Turin--Venice--Bologna--Florence--The Monastery of La
Trappe--Horace Walpole at Florence--His comments on Lady Mary and her
friends--Reasons for his dislike of her--Rome--The Young Pretender and
Henry, Cardinal York--Wanderings--Cheapness of life in Italy--Lady
Mary's son, Edward--He is a great trouble to his parents--His absurd
marriage--His extravagance and folly--Account of his early years--He
visits Lady Mary at Valence--Her account of the interviews.
In July, 1739, Lady Mary went abroad. She did not return until the
beginning of 1762, a few months before her death.
She went abroad without her husband, and, indeed, they never met again.
At first, apparently, he had intended to join her--at least so she gave
Lady Pomfret to understand:
"You have put me to a very difficult choice, yet, when I consider we are
both in Italy, and yet do not see one another, I am astonished at the
capriciousness of my fortune" (she wrote from Venice late in 1739). "My
affairs are so uncertain, I can answer for nothing that is future. I
have taken some pains to put the inclination for travelling into Mr.
Wortley's head, and was so much afraid he would change his mind, that I
hastened before him in order (at least) to secure my journey. He
proposed following me in six weeks, his business requiring his presence
at Newcastle. Since that, the change of scene that has happened in
England has made his friends persuade him to attend parliament this
session: so that what his inclinations, which must govern mine, will be
next spring I cannot absolutely foresee. For my own part, I like my own
situation so well that it will be a displeasure to me to change it. To
postpone such a conversation as yours a whole twelvemonth is a terrible
appearance; on the other hand, I would not follow the example of the
first of our sex, and sacrifice for a present pleasure a more lasting
happiness. In short, I can determine nothing on this subject. When you
are at Florence, we may debate it over again."
So little is known of the domestic relations of the Montagus that it is
hazardous to advance a conjecture. One writer has suggested that there
was a quarrel over money, but there are no grounds to support this.
Another has it that Lady Mary's flirtations or intrigues did not meet
with her husband's approval. Yet another thinks that Montagu found his
wife with her sharp tongue, very ill to live with.
The Montagus had been married for seven-and-twenty years; their younger
child was now twenty-one. Since Montagu assisted Lady Mary as a girl
with her Latin studies, they do not seem to have had much in common.
Lady Mary cut a figure in the social world; Montagu was a nonentity in
political life and seemed content so to be. Perhaps they were tired of
each other, and welcomed a separation that at the outset was intended
only to be temporary. "It was from the customs of the Turks that I first
had the thought of a septennial bill for the benefit of married
persons," Lady Mary once said to Joseph Spence; and it is more than
likely that she would have taken advantage of such an Act of Parliament
had it been in existence.
That there was no definite breach is evident from the fact that husband
and wife corresponded, though it must be confessed that her letters to
her husband are almost uniformly dull, except when the topic is their
son. On the other hand, there was certainly no especial degree of
friendship between them, and in one of her letters Lady Mary said
pointedly: "You do not seem desirous to hear news, which makes me not
trouble you with any." For the rest there are descriptions of the places
which Lady Mary visited and an account of the people she met.
Lady Mary proceeded from Dover to Calais, and thence to Dijon, where she
arrived in the middle of August. Wherever she went she found herself
among friends. "There is not any town in France where there is not
English, Scotch or Irish families established; and I have met with
people who have seen me (though often such as I do not remember to have
seen) in every town I have passed through; and I think the farther I go,
the more acquaintance I meet," she told her husband. At Dijon there were
no less than sixteen families of fashion. Lord Mansel had lodgings in
the house with her at Dijon, and Mrs. Whitsted, a daughter of Lord
Bathurst, resided in the same street. She met Lady Peterborough, and
just missed the Duke of Rutland, at St. Omer. At Port Beauvoisin she ran
across Lord Carlisle.
From Turin, she travelled, on the advice of Lord Carlisle, to Vienna,
which he declared was the best place in Italy in which to stay. The fact
that it was the intention of Lady Pomfret to remove from Sienna to
Vienna was the deciding factor. She liked the latter city so well that
she remained there until August of the following year (1740). It had one
great merit in Lady Mary's eyes, that it was cheap. Next to that, she
derived pleasure from the consideration with which she was treated. "I
like this place extremely, and am of opinion you would do so too: as to
cheapness, I think 'tis impossible to find any part of Europe where both
the laws and customs are so contrived purposely to avoid expenses of all
sorts; and here is a universal liberty that is certainly one of the
greatest _agréments_ in life. We have foreign ambassadors from all parts
of the world, who have all visited me. I have received visits from many
of the noble Venetian ladies; and upon the whole I am very much at my
ease here. If I was writing to Lady Sophia, I would tell her of the
comedies and operas which are every night, at very low prices; but I
believe even you will agree with me that they are ordered to be as
convenient as possible, every mortal going in a mask, and consequently
no trouble in dressing, or forms of any kind." So Lady Mary wrote to
Lady Pomfret on October 10; and a few days later she supplemented the
information in a letter to her husband:
"I find myself very well here. I am visited by the most considerable
people of the town, and all the foreign ministers, who have most of them
made great entertainments for me. I dined yesterday at the Spanish
ambassador's, who even surpassed the French in magnificence. He met me
at the hall-door, and the lady at the stair-head, to conduct me through
the long apartment; in short, they could not have shown me more honours,
if I had been an ambassadress. She desired me to think myself patrona
del casa, and offered me all the services in her power, to wait on me
where I pleased, &c. They have the finest palace in Venice. What is very
convenient, I hear it is not at all expected I should make any dinners,
it not being the fashion for anybody to do it here but the foreign
ministers; and I find I can live here very genteelly on my allowance. I
have already a very agreeable general acquaintance; though when I came,
here was no one I had ever seen in my life, but the Cavaliere Grimani
and the Abbé Conti. I must do them [the] justice to say they have taken
pains to be obliging to me. The Procurator brought his niece (who is at
the head of his family) to wait on me; and they invited me to reside
with them at their palace on the Brent, but I did not think it proper to
accept of it. He also introduced me to the Signora Pisani Mocenigo, who
is the most considerable lady here. The Nuncio is particularly civil to
me; he has been several times to see me, and has offered me the use of
his box at the opera. I have many others at my service, and, in short
it, is impossible for a stranger to be better received than I am. Here
are no English, except a Mr. Bertie and his governor, who arrived two
days ago, and who intends but a short stay."
Lady Mary thoroughly enjoyed herself at Venice, where she found a
variety of occupations to occupy her time. In the mornings she was
"wrapt up among my books with antiquarians and virtuosi"; in the
afternoons there were visits to pay and receive; in the evenings dinners
(at other people's expense--which fact did not detract from her
pleasure), assemblies, and the theatre and the opera. In fact, she found
there every delight except scandal, but that she did not miss, because
she said, she "never found any pleasure in malice." So strange a thing
is human nature that perhaps she believed it!
"Upon my word, I have spoken my real thoughts in relation to Venice; but
I will be more particular in my description, lest you should find the
same reason of complaint you have hitherto experienced" (she wrote in
November to Lady Pomfret). "It is impossible to give any rule for the
agreeableness of conversation; but here is so great a variety, I think
'tis impossible not to find some to suit every taste. Here are foreign
ministers from all parts of the world, who, as they have no Court to
employ their hours, are overjoyed to enter into commerce with any
stranger of distinction. As I am the only lady here at present, I can
assure you I am courted, as if I was the only one in the world. As to
all the conveniences of life, they are to be had at very easy rates; and
for those that love public places, here are two playhouses and two
operas constantly performed every night, at exceeding low prices. But
you will have no reason to examine that article, no more than myself;
all the ambassadors having boxes appointed them; and I have every one of
their keys at my service, not only for my own person, but whoever I
please to carry or send. I do not make much use of this privilege, to
their great astonishment. It is the fashion for the greatest ladies to
walk the streets, which are admirably paved; and a mask, price sixpence,
with a little cloak, and the head of a domino, the genteel dress to
carry you everywhere. The greatest equipage is a gondola, that holds
eight persons, and is the price of an English chair. And it is so much
the established fashion for everybody to live their own way, that
nothing is more ridiculous than censuring the actions of another. This
would be terrible in London, where we have little other diversion; but
for me, who never found any pleasure in malice, I bless my destiny that
has conducted me to a part where people are better employed than in
talking of the affairs of their acquaintance. It is at present excessive
cold (which is the only thing I have to find fault with), but in
recompense we have a clear bright sun, and fogs and factions things
unheard of in this climate."
Certainly everybody did the utmost to make Venice agreeable to Lady
Mary. With all her good opinion of herself and of her position, she
found herself treated with more distinction than she "could possibly
expect." When, on Christmas Eve, she went to see the ceremony of High
Mass celebrated by the Doge, she was surprised to find that he had set
aside for her and the Prince of Wolfenbuttel a gallery, to which none
were admitted but their parties. "A greater compliment could not have
been paid me if I had been a sovereign Princess." To her husband she
wrote: "It is impossible to be better treated, I may even say more
courted, than I am here."
All the English who came to Venice, as a matter of course paid their
respects to Lady Mary.
"Lord Fitzwilliam arrived here three days ago; he came to see me the
next day, as all the English do, who are much surprised at the
civilities and familiarity which I am with the noble ladies. Everybody
tells me 'tis what never was done but to myself; and I own I have a
little vanity in it, because the French ambassador told me when I first
came, that though the Procurator Grimani might persuade them to visit
me, he defied me to enter into any sort of intimacy with them: instead
of which they call me out almost every day on some diversion or other,
and are desirous to have me in all their parties of pleasure. I am
invited to-morrow to the Foscarini to dinner, which is to be followed
by a concert and a ball, where I shall be the only stranger, though here
are at present a great number come to see the regatta, which is fixed
for the 29th of this month, N.S. I shall see it at the Procurator
Grimani's, where there will be a great entertainment that day. My own
house is very well situated to see it, being on the Grand Canal; but I
would not refuse him and his niece, since they seem desirous of my
company, and I shall oblige some other ladies with my windows. They are
hired at a great rate to see the show."
There was just one fly in the ointment. "I am impatient to hear good
sense pronounced in my native tongue; having only heard my language out
of the mouths of boys and governors for these five months" (she
complained to Lady Pomfret). "Here are inundations of them broke in upon
us this carnival, and my apartment must be their refuge; the greater
part of them having kept an inviolable fidelity to the languages their
nurses taught them; their whole business abroad (as far as I can
perceive) being to buy new clothes, in which they shine in some obscure
coffee-house, where they are sure of meeting only one another; and after
the important conquest of some waiting gentlewoman of an opera queen,
whom perhaps they remember as long as they live, return to England
excellent judges of men and manners. I find the spirit of patriotism so
strong in me every time I see them, that I look on them as the greatest
blockheads in nature; and, to say truth, the compound of booby and
_petit maître_ makes up a very odd sort of animal."
It was not until the middle of August (1740) that Lady Mary left Venice,
going first to Bologna, where she stayed a day or two "to prepare for
the dreadful passage of the Apennines." On her way to Florence, she
visited the monastery of La Trappe--her account of which may be given as
a companion portrait to that of the nunnery printed in an earlier
chapter.
"The monastery of La Trappe, is of French origin, and one of the most
austere and self-denying orders I have met with. In this gloomy retreat
it gave me pain to observe the infatuation of men, who have devoutly
reduced themselves to a much worse condition than that of the beasts.
Folly, you see, is the lot of humanity, whether it arises in the flowery
paths of pleasure, or the thorny ones of an ill-judged devotion. But of
the two sorts of fools, I shall always think that the merry one has the
most eligible fate; and I cannot well form a notion of that spiritual
and ecstatic joy, that is mixed with sighs, groans, hunger, and thirst,
and the other complicated miseries of monastic discipline. It is a
strange way of going to work for happiness to excite an enmity between
soul and body, which Nature and Providence have designed to live
together in union and friendship, and which we cannot separate like man
and wife when they happen to disagree. The profound silence that is
enjoined upon the monks of La Trappe is a singular circumstance of their
unsociable and unnatural discipline, and were this injunction never to
be dispensed with, it would be needless to visit them in any other
character than as a collection of statues; but the superior of the
convent suspended in our favour that rigorous law, and allowed one of
the mutes to converse with me, and answer a few discreet questions. He
told me that the monks of this order in France are still more austere
than those of Italy, as they never taste wine, flesh, fish, or eggs; but
live entirely upon vegetables. The story that is told of the institution
of this order is remarkable, and is well attested, if my information is
good. Its founder was a French nobleman whose name was Bouthillior de
Rancé, a man of pleasure and gallantry, which were converted into the
deepest gloom of devotion by the following incident. His affairs obliged
him to absent himself, for some time, from a lady with whom he had lived
in the most intimate and tender connexions of successful love. At his
return to Paris he proposed to surprise her agreeably, and, at the same
time, to satisfy his own impatient desire of seeing her, by going
directly and without ceremony to her apartment by a back stair, which he
was well acquainted with--but think of the spectacle that presented
itself to him at his entrance into the chamber that had so often been
the scene of love's highest raptures! his mistress dead--dead of the
small-pox--disfigured beyond expression--a loathsome mass of putrified
matter--and the surgeon separating the head from the body, because the
coffin had been made too short! He stood for a moment motionless in
amazement, and filled with horror--and then retired from the world, shut
himself up in the convent of La Trappe, where he passed the remainder of
his days in the most cruel and disconsolate devotion.--Let us quit this
sad subject."
The news that Lady Mary was coming to Florence came to the ears of
Horace Walpole, who was staying there. If he had not yet made her
acquaintance, he certainly knew much about her. "On Wednesday we expect
a third she-meteor," he wrote to Richard West, July 31, 1740. "Those
learned luminaries the Ladies Pomfret and Walpole[9] are to be joined by
the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. You have not been witness to the rhapsody
of mystic nonsense which these two fair ones debate incessantly, and
consequently cannot figure what must be the issue of this triple
alliance: we have some idea of it. Only figure the coalition of prudery,
debauchery, sentiment, history, Greek, Latin, French, Italian and
metaphysics; all, except the second, understood by halves, by quarters,
or not at all. You shall have the journals of this notable academy."
Walpole sent, some seven weeks later, an account of the lady to the Hon.
Henry Seymour Conway: "Did I tell you Lady Mary Wortley is here? She
laughs at my Lady Walpole, scolds my Lady Pomfret, and is laughed at by
the whole town. Her dress, her avarice, and her impudence must amaze any
one that never heard her name. She wears a foul mob, that does not cover
her greasy black locks, that hang loose, never combed or curled,
mazarine blue wrapper, that gapes open and discovers a canvas petticoat.
Her face swollen violently on one side is partly covered with a
plaister, and partly with white paint, which for cheapness she has
bought so coarse, that you would not use it to wash a chimney."
[Footnote 9: The wife of the eldest son of Sir Robert Walpole, who in
1723 was created Baron Walpole. He later succeeded as (second) Earl of
Orford.]
In another letter, to Richard West (October 2, 1740), Walpole gives an
account of the "Academy." "But for the Academy, I am not of it; but
frequently in company with it," he wrote. "Tis all disjointed. Madame
----,[10] who, though a learned lady, has not lost her modesty and
character, is extremely scandalised with the two other dames, especially
with Moll Worthless,[11] who knows no bounds. She is at rivalry with
Lady W---- [12] for a certain Mr.----, whom perhaps you knew at
Oxford.... He fell into sentiments with my Lady W., and was happy to
catch her at platonic love; but as she seldom stops there, the poor man
will be frightened out of his senses when she shall break the matter to
him, for he never dreamt that her purposes were so naught. Lady Mary is
so far gone that to get him from the mouth of her antagonist, she
literally took him out to dance country dances at a formal ball, where
there was no measure kept in laughing at her.... She played at Pharaoh
two or three times at Princess Craon's, where she cheats horse and foot.
She is really entertaining: I have been reading her works, which she
lends out in manuscript; but they are too womanish: I like few of her
performances."
[Footnote 10: Lady Pomfret.]
[Footnote 11: Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.]
[Footnote 12: Lady Walpole.]
Lady Mary was, of course, entirely ignorant of Horace Walpole's feelings
about her, of which naturally he showed no sign in social intercourse
with her. "I saw him often both at Florence and Genoa, and you may
believe I know him," she told her daughter. "I was well acquainted with
Mr. Walpole at Florence, and indeed he was particularly civil to me,"
she wrote on another occasion. "I have great encouragement to ask favour
of him, if I did not know that few people have so good memories to
remember so many years backwards as have passed since I have seen him.
If he has treated the character of Queen Elizabeth with disrespect [in
_A Catalogue of the Royal and Noble Authors of England_], all the women
should tear him to pieces, for abusing the glory of their sex. Neither
is it just to put her in the list of authors, having never published
anything, though we have Mr. Camden's authority that she wrote many
valuable pieces, chiefly Greek translations. I wish all monarchs would
bestow their leisure hours on such studies: perhaps they would not be
very useful to mankind; but it may be asserted, for a certain truth,
their own minds could be more improved than by the amusements of
quadrille or Cavagnole."
Lady Mary need not have feared that Walpole had forgotten her; he bore
her much in mind to his dying day, and found never a kind thing to say
about her. It may be presumed that his animosity arose from the fact
that Lady Mary had championed Molly Skerritt against his mother, when
Miss Skerritt was living openly as the mistress of Sir Robert Walpole.
Yet, though he wrote so abusively about her, he concerned himself with a
new edition of the _Court Poems_, though with what right has never
transpired. "I have lately had Lady Mary Wortley's Ecloques published;
but they don't please, though so excessively good," he wrote to Sir
Horace Mann, November 24, 1747. "I say so confidently, for Mr. Chute
agrees with me: he says, for the _Epistle from Arthur Grey_, scarce any
woman could have written it, and no man; for a man who had had
experience enough to paint such sentiments so well, would not have had
warmth enough left. Do you know anything of Lady Mary? Her adventurous
son is come in Parliament, but has not opened."
From Florence, Lady Mary repaired to Rome. There, she did not see the
Chevalier de St. George, but she did see his two sons, Charles Edward,
the Young Pretender, and Henry, Cardinal York. "The eldest seems
thoughtless enough, and is really not unlike Mr. Lyttelton in his shape
and air," she wrote to Montagu. "The youngest is very well made, dances
finely, and has an ingenuous countenance; he is but fourteen years of
age. The family live very splendidly, yet pay everybody, and (wherever
they get it) are certainly in no want of money."
Lady Mary seems to have had no prepared itinerary, but to have wandered
as the spirit moved her--Naples, Leghorn, Turin, Genoa. The cheapness of
Italy appealed to her frugal mind.
"The manners of Italy are so much altered since we were here last, the
alteration is scarce credible. They say it has been by the last war. The
French, being masters, introduced all their customs, which were eagerly
embraced by the ladies, and I believe will never be laid aside; yet the
different governments make different manners in every state. You know,
though the republic is not rich, here are many private families vastly
so, and live at a great superfluous expense: all the people of the first
quality keep coaches as fine as the Speaker's, and some of them two or
three, though the streets are too narrow to use them in the town; but
they take the air in them, and their chairs carry them to the gates. The
liveries are all plain: gold or silver being forbidden to be worn within
the walls, the habits are all obliged to be black, but they wear
exceeding fine lace and linen; and in their country-houses, which are
generally in the faubuurg, they dress very rich, and have extreme fine
jewels. Here is nothing cheap but houses. A palace fit for a prince may
be hired for fifty pounds per annum; I mean unfurnished. All games of
chance are strictly prohibited, and it seems to me the only law they do
not try to evade: they play at quadrille, piquet, &c., but not high.
Here are no regular public assemblies. I have been visited by all of the
first rank, and invited to several fine dinners, particularly to the
wedding of one of the house of Spinola, where there were ninety-six sat
down to table, and I think the entertainment one of the best I ever saw.
There was the night following a ball and supper for the same company,
with the same profusion. They tell me that all their great marriages are
kept in the same public manner. Nobody keeps more than two horses, all
their journeys being post; the expense of them, including the coachman,
is (I am told) fifty pounds per annum. A chair is very near as much; I
give eighteen francs a week for mine. The senators can converse with no
strangers during the time of their magistracy, which lasts two years.
The number of servants is regulated, and almost every lady has the same,
which is two footmen, a gentleman-usher, and a page, who follows her
chair.
Certainly the simple life appealed to Lady Mary, but much as she liked
Geneva the cost of living irked her. "Everything is as dear as it is at
London," she complained to her husband in November, 1741. "'Tis true, as
all equipages are forbidden, that expense is entirely retrenched.... The
way of living is absolutely the reverse of that in Italy. Here is no
show, and a great deal of eating; there is all the magnificence
imaginable, and no dinners but on particular occasions; yet the
difference of the prices renders the total expense very near equal....
The people here are very well to be liked, and this little republic has
an air of the simplicity of old Rome in its earliest age. The
magistrates toil with their own hands, and their wives literally dress
their dinners against their return from their little senate. Yet without
dress and equipage 'tis as dear living here for a stranger, as in places
where one is obliged to both, from the price of all sort of provision,
which they are forced to buy from their neighbours, having almost no
land of their own." How much more agreeable, from Lady Mary's point of
view, was Chambery: "Here is the most profound peace and unbounded
plenty that is to be found in any corner of the universe; but not one
rag of money. For my part, I think it amounts to the same thing, whether
one is obliged to give several pence for bread, or can have a great deal
of bread for a penny, since the Savoyard nobility here keep as good
tables, without money, as those in London, who spend in a week what
would be here a considerable yearly revenue. Wine, which is equal to the
best burgundy, is sold for a penny a quart, and I have a cook for very
small wages, that is capable of rivalling Chloé."
"My girl gives me great prospect of satisfaction, but my young rogue of
a son is the most ungovernable little rake that ever played truant,"
Lady Mary wrote to Lady Mar in July, 1727, when the boy was fourteen and
the girl nine years old.
It has already been mentioned that young Edward, who was placed at
Westminster School at the early age of five, ran away. In fact, he ran
away more than once. "My blessed offspring has already made a great
noise in the world," his mother told Lady Mar in July, 1726. "That young
rake, my son, took to his heels t'other day and transported his person
to Oxford; being in his own opinion thoroughly qualified for the
University. After a good deal of search we found and reduced him, much
against his will, to the humble condition of a schoolboy. It happens
very luckily that the sobriety and discretion is of my daughter's side;
I am sorry the ugliness is so too, for my son grows extremely handsome."
The lad was incorrigible. In the following year he disappeared for some
months, to be found selling fish at Blackwall.
"My cousin is going to Paris, and I will not let her go without a letter
for you, my dear sister, though I was never in a worse humour for
writing" (the anxious mother wrote to her sister). "I am vexed to the
blood by my young rogue of a son; who has contrived at his age to make
himself the talk of the whole nation. He is gone knight-erranting, God
knows where; and hitherto 'tis impossible to find him. You may judge of
my uneasiness by what your own would be if dear Lady Fanny was lost.
Nothing that ever happened to me has troubled me so much; I can hardly
speak or write of it with tolerable temper, and I own it has changed
mine to that degree I have a mind to cross the water, to try what effect
a new heaven and a new earth will have upon my spirit."
Later, Edward ran away again, joining the crew of a ship going to
Oporto, and was not discovered in that city until a considerable period
had elapsed since his flight.
He capped all his follies by marrying at the age of twenty a woman of no
social standing and much older than himself.
His parents were at their wits' end. It was hopeless to treat him as a
rational being. His wife was induced to accept a pension to leave him,
and he himself was put in charge of a keeper. Several times he had to be
kept in close confinement. He was, however, by no means devoid of
brains, and in the autumn of 1741 he had sufficiently recovered to be
entered as a student at the University of Leyden. His allowance was £300
a year, which he found so insufficient for the indulgence of his tastes
that he was soon considerably in debt.
In Lady Mary's correspondence there are many letters to her husband
about their son.
"Genoa, Aug. 15, 1741.
"I am sorry to trouble you on so disagreeable a subject as our son, but
I received a letter from him last post, in which he solicits your
dissolving his marriage, as if it was wholly in your power, and the
reason he gives for it, is so that he may marry more to your
satisfaction. It is very vexatious (though no more than I expected) that
time has no effect, and that it is impossible to convince him of his
true situation. He enclosed this letter in one to Mr. Birtles, and tells
me that he does not doubt that debt of £200 is paid. You may imagine
this silly proceeding occasioned me a dun from Mr. Birtles. I told him
the person that wrote the letter, was, to my knowledge, not worth a
groat, which was all I thought proper to say on the subject."
"Lyons, April 23, 1742.
"I am very glad you have been prevailed on to let our son take a
commission: if you had prevented it, he would have always said, and
perhaps thought, and persuaded other people, you had hindered his
rising in the world; though I am fully persuaded that he can never make
a tolerable figure in any station of life. When he was at Morins, on his
first leaving France, I then tried to prevail with him to serve the
Emperor as volunteer; and represented to him that a handsome behaviour
one campaign might go a great way in retrieving his character; and
offered to use my interest with you (which I said I did not doubt would
succeed) to furnish him with a handsome equipage. He then answered, he
supposed I wished him killed out of the way. I am afraid his pretended
reformation is not very sincere. I wish time may prove me in the wrong.
I here enclose the last letter I received from him; I answered it the
following post in these words:
"'I am very glad you resolve to continue obedient to your father, and
are sensible of his goodness towards you. Mr. Birtles showed me your
letter to him, in which you enclosed yours to me, where you speak to him
as your friend; subscribing yourself his faithful humble servant. He was
at Genoa in his uncle's house when you was there, and well acquainted
with you; though you seem ignorant of everything relating to him. I wish
you would make such sort of apologies for any errors you may commit. I
pray God your future behaviour may redeem the past, which will be a
great blessing to your affectionate mother.'
"I have not since heard from him; I suppose he knew not what to say to
so plain a detected falsehood. It is very disagreeable to me to converse
with one from whom I do not expect to hear a word of truth, and who, I
am very sure, will repeat many things that never passed in our
conversation. You see the most solemn assurances are not binding from
him, since he could come to London in opposition to your commands, after
having so frequently protested he would not move a step except by your
order. However, as you insist on my seeing him, I will do it, and think
Valence the properest town for that interview; it is but two days'
journey from this place; it is in Dauphiné.
"I shall stay here till I have an answer to this letter. If you order
your son to go to Valence, I desire you would give him a strict command
of going by a feigned name. I do not doubt your returning me whatever
money I may give him; but as I believe, if he receives money from me, he
will be making me frequent visits, it is clearly my opinion I should
give him none. Whatever you may think proper for his journey, you may
remit to him."
"Lyons, April 25 [1742].
"On recollection (however inconvenient it may be to me on many
accounts), I am not sorry to converse with my son. I shall at least have
the satisfaction of making a clear judgment of his behaviour and temper:
which I shall deliver to you in the most sincere and unprejudiced
manner. You need not apprehend that I shall speak to him in passion. I
do not know that I ever did in my life. I am not apt to be over-heated
in discourse, and am so far prepared, even for the worst on his side,
that I think nothing he can say can alter the resolution I have taken of
treating him with calmness. Both nature and interest (were I inclined to
follow blindly the dictates of either) would determine me to wish him
your heir rather than a stranger; but I think myself obliged both by
honour, conscience and my regard for you, no way to deceive you; and I
confess, hitherto I see nothing but falsehood and weakness through his
whole conduct. It is possible this person may be altered since I saw
him, but his figure then was very agreeable and his manner insinuating.
I very well remember the professions he made to me, and do not doubt he
is as lavish of them to other people. Perhaps Lord Carteret may think
him no ill match for an ugly girl that sticks upon his hands. The
project of breaking his marriage shows at least his devotion
counterfeit, since I am sensible it cannot be done but by false witness.
His wife is not young enough to get gallants, nor rich enough to buy
them.
"I make choice of Valence for our interview as a town where we are not
likely to find any English, and he may if he pleases be quite unknown;
which it is hardly possible to be in any capital town either of France
or Italy.
"Lyons, May 2 [1742].
"I received this morning yours of April 12, and at the same time the
enclosed which I send you. Tis the first I have received since the
detection of that falsehood in regard to Mr. Birtles. I always send my
letters open, that Mr. Clifford (who has the character of sense and
honesty) might be witness of what I said; and he not left at liberty to
forge orders he never received. I am very glad I have done so, and am
persuaded that had his reformation been what you suppose it, Mr.
Clifford would have wrote to me in his favour. I confess I see no
appearance of it. His last letter to you, and this to me, seems to be no
more in that submissive style he has used, but like one that thinks
himself well protected. I will see him, since you desire it, at Valence;
which is a by-town, where I am less likely to meet with English than any
town in France; but I insist on his going by a feigned name, and coming
without a servant. People of superior fortunes to him (to my knowledge)
have often travelled from Paris to Lyons in the _diligence_; the expense
is but one hundred livres, £5 sterling, all things paid. It would not be
easy to me, at this time, to send him any considerable sum; and whatever
it is, I am persuaded, coming from me, he would not be satisfied with
it, and make his complaints to his companions. As to the alteration of
his temper, I see the same folly throughout. He now supposes (which is
at best downright childish) that one hour's conversation will convince
me of his sincerity. I have not answered his letter, nor will not, till
I have your orders what to say to him."
[Avignon] May 6 [1742].
"I here send you enclosed the letter I mentioned of your son's; the
packet in which it was put was mislaid in the journey; it will serve to
show you how little he is to be depended on. I saw a Savoyard man of
quality at Chambery, who knew him at Venice, and afterwards at Genoa,
who asked me (not suspecting him for my son) if he was related to my
family. I made answer he was some relation. He told me several tricks of
his. He said, that at Genoa he had told him that an uncle of his was
dead and had left him £5,000 or £6,000 per annum, and that he was
returning to England to take possession of his estate; in the meantime
he wanted money; and would have borrowed some of him, which he refused.
I made answer that he did very well. I have heard of this sort of
conduct in other places; and by the Dutch letters you have sent me I am
persuaded he continues the same method of lying which convinces me that
his pretended enthusiasm is only to cheat those that can be imposed on
by it. However, I think he should not be hindered accepting a
commission. I do not doubt it will be pawned or sold in a twelvemonth;
which will prove to those that now protect him how little he deserves
it. I am now at Avignon, which is within one day's journey of Valence."
"Avignon, May 23 [1742].
"I received this morning yours of April 12 and 29th, and at the same
time one from my son at Paris, dated the 4th instant. I have wrote to
him this day, that on his answer I will immediately set out to Valence,
and shall be glad to see him there. I suppose you are now convinced I
have never been mistaken in his character; which remains unchanged, and
what is yet worse, I think is unchangeable. I never saw such a
complication of folly and falsity as in his letter to Mr. Gibson.
Nothing is cheaper than living in an inn in a country town in France;
they being obliged to ask no more than twenty-five sous for dinner, and
thirty for supper and lodging, of those that eat at the public table;
which all the young men of quality I have met have always done. It is
true I am forced to pay double, because I think the decency of my sex
confines me to eat in my chamber. I will not trouble you with detecting
a number of other falsehoods that are in his letters. My opinion on the
whole (since you give me leave to tell it) is, that if I was to speak
in your place, I would tell him, 'That since he is obstinate in going
into the army, I will not oppose it; but as I do not approve, I will
advance no equipage till I know his behaviour to be such as shall
deserve my future favour. Hitherto he has always been directed, either
by his own humour, or the advice of those he thought better friends to
him than myself. If he renounces the army, I will continue to him his
former allowance; notwithstanding his repeated disobedience, under the
most solemn professions of duty. When I see him act like a sincere
honest man, I shall believe well of him; the opinion of others, who
either do not know him or are imposed on by his pretences, weighs
nothing with me."
On May 30 Lady Mary went from Avignon to Valence, where about a week
later her son visited her. She at once sent a full account to Montagu.
"Avignon, June 10 [1742.]
"I am just returned from passing two days with our son, of whom I will
give you the most exact account I am capable of. He is so much altered
in his person, I should scarcely have known him. He has entirely lost
his beauty, and looks at least seven years older than he is; and the
wildness that he always had in his eyes is so much increased it is
downright shocking, and I am afraid will end fatally. He is grown fat,
but is still genteel, and has an air of politeness that is agreeable. He
speaks French like a Frenchman, and has got all the fashionable
expressions of that language, and a volubility of words which he always
had, and which I do not wonder should pass for wit with inconsiderate
people. His behaviour is perfectly civil, and I found him very
submissive; but in the main, no way really improved in his
understanding, which is exceedingly weak; and I am convinced he will
always be led by the person he converses with either right or wrong, not
being capable of forming any fixed judgment of his own. As to his
enthusiasm, if he had it, I suppose he has already lost it; since I
could perceive no turn of it in all his conversation. But with his head
I believe it is possible to make him a monk one day and a Turk three
days after. He has a flattering, insinuating manner, which naturally
prejudices strangers in his favour. He began to talk to me in the usual
silly cant I have so often heard from him, which I shortened by telling
him I desired not to be troubled with it; that professions were of no
use where actions were expected; and that the only thing could give me
hopes of a good conduct was regularity and truth. He very readily agreed
to all I said (as indeed he has always done when he has not been
hot-headed). I endeavoured to convince him how favourably he has been
dealt with, his allowance being much more than, had I been his father, I
would have given in the same case. The Prince of Hesse, who is now
married to the Princess of England, lived some years at Geneva on £300
per annum. Lord Hervey sent his son at sixteen thither, and to travel
afterwards, on no larger pension than £200; and, though without a
governor, he had reason enough, not only to live within the compass of
it, but carried home little presents for his father and mother, which he
showed me at Turin. In short, I know there is no place so expensive, but
a prudent single man may live in it on £100 per annum, and an
extravagant one may run out ten thousand in the cheapest. Had you (said
I to him) thought rightly, or would have regarded the advice I gave you
in all my letters, while in the little town of Islestein, you would have
laid up £150 per annum; you would now have had £750 in your pocket;
which would have almost paid your debts, and such a management would
have gained you the esteem of the reasonable part of mankind. I
perceived this reflection, which he had never made himself, had a very
great weight with him. He would have excused part of his follies, by
saying Mr. G. had told him it became Mr. W.'s son to live handsomely. I
made answer, that whether Mr. G. had said so or no, the good sense of
the thing was noway altered by it; that the true figure of a man was
the opinion the world had of his sense and probity, and not the idle
expenses, which were only respected by foolish or ignorant people; that
his case was particular, he had but too publicly shown his inclination
to vanities, and the most becoming part he could now act would be owning
the ill use he had made of his father's indulgence, and professing to
endeavour to be no further expense to him, instead of scandalous
complaints, and being always at his last shirt and last guinea, which
any man of spirit would be ashamed to own. I prevailed so far with him
that he seemed very willing to follow this advice; and I gave him a
paragraph to write to G., which I suppose you will easily distinguish
from the rest of his letter. He asked me if you had settled your estate.
I made answer, that I did not doubt (like all other wise men) you always
had a will by you; but that you had certainly not put anything out of
your power to change. On that, he began to insinuate, that if I could
prevail on you to settle the estate on him, I might expect anything from
his gratitude. I made him a very clear and positive answer in these
words: 'I hope your father will outlive me, and if I should be so
unfortunate to have it otherwise, I do not believe he will leave me in
your power, But was I sure of the contrary, no interest nor no necessity
shall ever make me act against my honour or conscience; and I plainly
tell you, that I will never persuade your father to do anything for you
till I think you deserve it.' He answered by great promises of future
good behaviour, and economy. He is highly delighted with the prospect of
going into the army; and mightily pleased with the good reception he had
from Lord Stair, though I find it amounts to no more than telling him he
was sorry he had already named his aides-de-camp, and otherwise should
have been glad of him in that post. He says Lord Carteret has confirmed
to him his promise of a commission.
"The rest of his conversation was extremely gay. The various things he
has seen has given him a superficial universal knowledge. He really
knows most of the modern languages, and if I could believe him, can read
Arabic, and has read the Bible in Hebrew. He said it was impossible for
him to avoid going back to Paris; but he promised me to lie but one
night there, and go to a town six posts from thence on the Flanders
road, where he would wait your orders, and go by the name of Mons. du
Durand, a Dutch officer; under which name I saw him. These are the most
material passages, and my eyes are so much tired I can write no more at
this time. I gave him 240 livres for his journey."
No amount of admonition had any effect upon Edward. At the age of thirty
he was as irresponsible as he was when he was thirteen years old. He
promised his mother at Avignon most solemnly to reform, and at once got
into mischief. "I am persuaded," Lady Mary said, "whoever protects him
will be very soon convinced of the impossibility of his behaving like a
rational creature."
Avignon, November 20, 1743.
"As to my son's behaviour at Montelimart, it is nothing more than a
proof of his weakness; and how little he is to be depended on in his
most solemn professions. He told me that he had made acquaintance with a
lady on the road, who has an assembly at her house at Montelimart, and
that she had invited him thither. I asked immediately if she knew his
name. He assured me no, and that he passed for a Dutch officer by the
name of Durand. I advised him not go thither, since it would raise a
curiosity concerning him, and I was very unwilling it should be known
that I had conversed with him, on many accounts. He gave me the most
solemn assurances that no mortal should know it; and agreed with me in
the reasons I gave him for keeping it an entire secret; yet rid straight
to Montelimart, where he told at the assembly that he came into this
country purely on my orders, and that I had stayed with him two days at
Orange; talking much of my kindness to him, and insinuating that he had
another name, much more considerable than that he appeared with. I knew
nothing of this, till several months after, that a lady of that country
came hither, and meeting her in company, she asked me if I was
acquainted with Monsieur Durand. I had really forgot he had ever taken
that name, and made answer no; and that if such a person mentioned me,
it was probably some _chevalier d'industrie_ who sought to introduce
himself into company by a supposed acquaintance with me. She made
answer, the whole town believed so, by the improbable tales he told
them; and informed me what he had said; by which I knew what I have
related to you.
"I expect your orders in relation to his letters."
Edward was still anxious to join the army, and his parents were not
averse to the scheme. Lady Mary, however, thought that certain
precautions should be taken in the event of his securing a commission.
"It is my opinion," she wrote to Montagu in January, 1744, "he should
have no distinction, in equipage, from any other cornet; everything of
that sort will only serve to blow his vanity and consequently heighten
his folly. Your indulgence has always been greater to him than any other
parent's would have been in the same circumstances. I have always said
so, and thought so. If anything can alter him, it will be thinking
firmly that he has no dependence but on his own conduct for a future
maintenance."
Edward obtained a commission, and was present at Fontenoy.
On his return to England, in 1747, he was elected to Parliament for the
family borough of Huntingdon. This he held until 1754, when he was
returned for the borough of Bossiney, in Cornwall, which he represented
for the next eight years.
Of his subsequent career it is not necessary to say anything here,
except that his father left him an annuity of £1,000 a year, to be
increased to £2,000 on his mother's death. Lady Mary in her will
bequeathed him one guinea.