1743–4--JOURNEY TO LONDON--LETTERS CHIEFLY FROM SANDLEFORD PRIORY,
FROM BATH, AND FROM LONDON--THE DEATH OF HER CHILD.
[Year: 1743]
At last the longed-for day arrived for Mrs. Montagu and her sister to
set out southwards. Mr. Carter, the faithful old steward, insisted on
travelling with them instead of his son Edward, and the description
of his excitement and anxiety shown by his expressions are very
characteristic. Arrived at Doncaster on January 8, Mrs. Montagu writes
to her husband and mother, stating that she could not do so before, as
this was the first south post she had met.
[Page heading: THE FLOODS]
The letter to her mother is dated--
“Doncaster, Saturday the 8,
“(January).
“DEAR MADAM,
“I arrived here this evening, without having suffer’d any
inconvenience or fatigue in my whole progress. We were met on
Thursday in Leeming Lane[267] by a Messenger from Capt. Twycross to
tell us the waters were out at Burroughbridge, and that we could
not pass them, so I apply’d to my guide, Mr. Carter, and a wise man
is certainly never out of his element. He told me I might go to
Kirby Hill and there get a warm lodging, though not an elegant one;
which he thought would be as well as turning back. For my part I
assured him I had rather have my bed stuffed with flocks than my
pillow with care and disappointment, and agreed to go on to the
place he mentioned, and then send a messenger to see if the waters
were fallen. The Dove returned with an olive branch, and we went on
to the Waterside[268] there to prevent fear (for danger there was
none), we got into a boat and navigated through Mr. Williamson’s
gardens, his melancholy yews just shew’d their formal heads above
the water. Himself a melancholy shade too, was almost in as bad
a way, for the water was quite to his door, so he could get no
amusement from the rest of the world, but what he saw from the
windows. We were safely landed at the door of the Inn. The coach
came through the water without getting any wet inside of it, and we
all rejoiced that we had been more afraid than hurt. Mr. Carter,
in his care, often bid me be of good courage; as there was not
occasion for any, I could not be disgraced for want of it: from our
first setting out I have not been less entertain’d than guarded by
him, he has really acted the part of Sir Roger de Coverley all the
way; his benevolent heart breaks into such honest and affectionate
expressions, you would think he was talking to his family wherever
he is; at the ‘Oak-tree’ he was, I saw, shaking hands with every
creature. I stopp’d to speak to a servant of Mrs. Yorke’s who met
us with her compliments, and could hear Mr. Carter praising the
strong beer, thanking the Landlord, wishing many good things to
a boy who was stuffing a luncheon of bread and butter, thanking
Heaven for good weather, and commending the road, all in a breath.
At Lord Castlecomer’s Inn he would stop for the horses to eat, he
said a sort of grace to it, praying it might strengthen them to the
end of their journey, then he extolled the Inn, the Landlord and
his wife, not forgetting a ‘lile lass’ that stood at the gate: all
the way we went in the boat he commended the boatmen more than an
envious person would have done Christopher Columbus, for exploring
leas and lands unknown; at Borough Bridge he made the funeral Elogy
of Mr. Mann, but not to wrong the living for the sake of the dead,
he said the handsomest things to mine Hostess, the civilest things
to her daughters, the most honourable things of her son, and the
most affable things to the chambermaid, that ever I heard in my
life. At Aberforth he was not less kind to every creature, nor less
indulgent to every thing, and he is the same still, and I doubt not
but will be Sir Roger de Coverley to the end of the journey. I am
really pleased by reflection, and though I don’t see everything in
his point of view, I am delighted at his happiness, like the bee he
gathers honey from every flower, nay, weed, which to common taste
have no perfection. I wish I could think as well of all mankind
as he does; but he deserves to think better of it. Benevolence is
built so much on faith, that those who think very ill of people in
general, will never do them much good, for service often arises
from trust, and we cannot trust those whom we dare not believe.”
[267] Leeming Lane, a stage 218 miles from London.
[268] Boroughbridge is on the river Ure.
[Page heading: A FAITHFUL STEWARD]
The end of this letter is lost. Mr. Montagu being unable, from the
Chancery cause coming on, to meet his wife, despatched a servant
named Griffith, but he, falling ill at an early stage of the road,
deputed another person to meet her. A most dutiful and affectionate
letter occurs here to Mr. Montagu, but too long for inclusion. Mr.
Carter having seen them safe to Leicester, left them there, where
Sarah Robinson had an attack of illness which delayed them a day. When
well enough, they proceeded by way of Harborough, Newport Pagnell,
Dunstable, etc., to Dover Street, London.
Mrs. Freind and Mrs. Botham (Mrs. Sterne’s sister, Lydia), both
expecting their confinements, entreated Mrs. Montagu to stand godmother
to their future babes, to which she consented. Mr. Botham was then
Rector of Yoxall, Staffordshire, and Chaplain to Lord Aylesford,[269]
whose daughter Mary, Lady Andover,[270] was Mrs. Botham’s most intimate
friend and patroness. She was also a friend of Mrs. Montagu’s, to whom
she constantly wrote tidings of Lydia Botham’s frequent illnesses and
pecuniary troubles.
[269] Heneage, 2nd Earl of Aylesford.
[270] Wife to William, Viscount Andover, son of 11th Earl of
Suffolk.
[Page heading: MR. ROGERS’ PEDIGREE]
The Chancery suit Mr. Montagu had been engaged in was occasioned by
his claiming the guardianship of his unfortunate first cousin, Mr.
John Rogers, who, owning large estates at Newcastle-on-Tyne, and East
and West Denton near there, besides much other property, had now been
a lunatic[271] for some years. It will be seen in the pedigree that
Mr. Montagu’s mother was a Sarah Rogers. This table will elucidate the
relationship--
John Rogers, = Margaret Cock,
of E. and W. Denton. | dau. of Henry Cock, Merchant,
| Newcastle-on-Tyne.
+--------------------------+----------+
| |
John Rogers, of Denton = Eliz. Ellison, Sarah = Hon. Charles
Hall and Newcastle-on-Tyne, | m. 1684, at Rogers.| Montagu, High
etc., Sheriff of | Lanchester; | Sheriff of
Northumberland, | d. April 16, | Durham,
1693–94; d. 1709. | 1733. | 1686–1709;
| | d. 1721.
+------------------+ |
| |
| |
John Rogers, = Anne Delaval, |
Sheriff of dau. |
Northumberland, 1715–16; Sir John Delaval; |
b. 1685, d. June 24, 1758. d. Jan. 3, 1723. |
|
|
+--------------------+
|
+----------------+--+--------+-+----+
| | | |
Edward = Eliz. Crewe, John, Jemima = Mr. Medows,
Montagu, Robinson, b. 1694. died afterwards
b. 1692, b. 1720, _s.p._ Sir Sydney
d. May d. 1800. Medows.
20, 1775.
[271] Evidently he was a lunatic forty years, and bed-ridden ten.
[Illustration:
_The Rev. M.W. Peters, R.A.Pinx._ _Emery Walker Ph. Sc._
_Morris Robinson_]
[Page heading: A CURIOUS LETTER]
Old Mr. Rogers had bought East Denton land and collieries for £10,900
from the Erringtons in 1689, who had long had the property. In
December, 1705, Mr. Rogers bought of Sir James Clavering his share of
the West Denton property. The history of Denton Hall will be given
further on. Young John Rogers appears to have had fits as early as
1718. He married in 1713, Anne Delaval, who died in 1723 at Seaton
Delaval, and he seems to have become deranged soon after her death. As
long as his mother lived he was well cared for, but she died in 1733,
and the last nine years he had been gradually getting worse, and a set
of designing people surrounded him. I have a letter of his written to
his parents, apparently on going to Oxford in 1705, which is so curious
that I insert it here. It is addressed--
“To
“John Rogers, Esqr., att
“The House in Newcastle upon Tyne,
“These--”
“DEAR FATHER,
“I hope since that I am fallen into the hands of a gentleman, who
is not only a stranger to you, but to all my relations, that you
will do me the favour to write to my tutor, which I am sure he
can’t but take exceeding well, having never heard from any of my
friends since I removed heather. I had notice by my Mother yt you
had ordered me £40, and wonder that as yett I have not heard from
John Nicholson, that, I fancy Mr. Atkinson’s letter has miscarried.
I see Mr. Fremantel here on Sunday night who sett forward for
Newcastle on Monday morning, that I fancy you will see him before
you receive this. We had one man executed here on Saturday morning
who was taken here just a little before our assizes by two Smiths,
he had been twice put in the Gazett for a highwayman, and those
fellows took him, hoped to receive the reward. The fellow knowing
himself to be a great rogue, and that if he escaped here, they
would have had a Habeas Corpus to remove him, sent for the man
whose horse it was he had stolen, to come to challenge his horse,
and was indited for it and pleaded guilty, hoping I suppose to be
transported. There was a great interest made at Court for to save
his life, but all would not doo, but by this he has baulked the
fellows yt took him of their £40.
“So with my duty to my Mother and yourself,
“I am, dear Father,
“Your dutiful Son,
“JOHN ROGERS.
“Oxon, August 18, 1705.”
[Page heading: MR. MONTAGU’S JOURNEY]
Mr. Montagu was made guardian and manager to Mr. Rogers and his estate.
Uneasy as he was at leaving his wife in her present situation, he was
obliged to go to Newcastle to see into affairs. Sarah Robinson, who
had gone home, was quickly summoned to return to her sister, to which
her parents rather unwillingly gave their consent. Mr. Montagu writes
each post, as often as he could, most affectionate letters to his wife;
as he rode all the way, disliking a carriage, we see by his letters
the time the journey took. March 19, he writes from Nottingham, having
been four days reaching there. He says, “If j was mounted as j ought to
be j could without much difficulty reach Allerthorpe on Monday night,
whereas j must now be content if j get there some time on Tuesday.” He
bids her divert herself with her friends and acquaintances, and to send
him good accounts of her health, “as there is nothing under Heaven that
is so dear to me.”
But no sooner had Mr. Montagu set out than the Duchess of Portland lost
her youngest daughter Frances, just two years old, from convulsions
after whooping cough. She forbade Mrs. Montagu coming to see her at
first, for fear of her grief affecting her in her present condition.
Mrs. Donnellan and Mrs. Pendarves were with the duchess, and did all
they could to solace her grief, which was intense. After a few days,
however, the two friends met, and had a sad meeting.
To return to Mr. Montagu’s travels, he got to Allerthorpe, where Mr.
Carter joined him, and they proceeded to Newcastle, to Mr. Rogers’
house, where
“three attorneys attended to take inventorys of the goods,
schedules of the writings and bonds, and whatsoever we found in
the Secretoires etc. of the unhappy gentleman, but more is owing
to the dexterity and unintermitting diligence of Mr. Carter in the
despatch we have made than to everything else put together. We have
found Bonds amounting to near £10,000 value.”
A general oversight was arranged to be taken by Mr. Carter of the
estates and tenants, many of the latter being heavily in arrears in
rents. It is characteristic of Mr. Montagu’s uprightness in business
that, though not obliged to do so, he rendered to Sir James Clavering,
Mr. Rogers’ uncle, a complete account of his estate, of which Sir James
greatly approved, and regretted these steps were not taken ten years
before. A Mr. Grey was put in charge of Mr. Rogers.
[Page heading: DARNTON FAIR]
Mr. Montagu and Mr. Carter commenced their journey home, the latter
going to Darnton Fair _en route_. People rose early for business then.
Mr. Montagu states Mr. Carter “sat up late last night and rose this
morning at 3, and set out at 6 for Bedale, where he will be occupied
all day.” He adds, “He is unwearied, j never knew his fellow. He has
lived three times as much as any other man no older than he, and has
done three times as much business and benefited many and hurt none. I
wish j could say as much of those who are in a rank of life infinitely
superior to him.” Truly this is a fine picture of a righteous steward.
[Page heading: THE BIRTH OF A SON]
By May 1, when Elizabeth writes to her mother, Mr. Montagu had returned
to her, she and her sister meeting him at Highgate. Mention is made in
this letter of Miss Brockman having become temporarily speechless from
inoculation. Sarah returns to Mount Morris, and the last letter before
Mrs. Montagu’s confinement tells of the purchase of a “magnifique
Berceau” just in time, as on May 11 Mrs. Montagu gave birth, at their
house in Dover Street, to a fine boy, to the infinite joy of Mr.
Montagu and his sister, Mrs. Medows. A young farmer’s wife, a Mrs.
Kennet, living near Mount Morris, had been engaged as a wet-nurse to
the child.
On May 30 the Rev. William Freind, to whom Mr. Montagu had written to
announce the birth of his child, writes to congratulate him, and to say
Mrs. Freind had presented him with a daughter that morning. Mr. Montagu
had promised to stand godfather if it was a boy,[272] but if a daughter
Mrs. Montagu was to be godmother. To this letter, on June 4, Mr.
Montagu replied that his wife and child are doing well, and he says--
“The latter end of next week we intend for the baptism of our
infant, and if you were here should be prouder to have the ceremony
performed by you than anybody else, for if j may judge from what
has happened to the Father, j imagine it would be auspicious to the
Son. I am sure j ought never to forget the share you had in putting
me in the possession of the Mother,[273] in whom j find my every
wish more than compleated. In less than a fortnight we intend going
to Sandleford,[274] and after that to go on the inoculation, which
j hope will have an happy event, which, if so, j cannot be too
thankful to Providence.”
[272] This child was christened Elizabeth. She died young.
[273] Mr. Freind had married them.
[274] Mr. Montagu’s seat near Newbury.
He adds his desire for Mr. Freind and his family to visit them at
Sandleford _en route_ home from Bath.
[Page heading: INOCULATION]
The reader will remember that Mrs. Montagu was peculiarly afraid
of smallpox, but she had determined, if once a mother, she would be
inoculated, so that she should be able to attend to her child if it
ever had the disease, and to prevent separation from or infection to it
if she herself took the disease in the natural manner. When her dread
of it is recollected, it will appear a heroic deed on her part. Her
mother, Mrs. Robinson, was far from easy at the idea of the inoculation
taking place in the summer heat.
Meanwhile the little boy was christened John, though he soon acquired
the nickname of “Punch,” their own familiar peep-show, as the fond
parents deemed him, and is only twice mentioned in the letters I have
as my little “Jack.”
In a letter of June 21, from the Duchess of Portland, who was at
Welbeck with Lady Oxford, she mentions--
“The Duke of Kingston[275] has been in the utmost danger, so great
Doctor Hickman has refrained sleeping part of a night, not without
the assistance of Barbecued Hog, Tokay, etc., etc., etc. to keep
up his spirits, to enable him to go through the immense fatigue
of waking a few hours with his patron.” She adds, “Thank God the
children are all well. I hope your little man is so, my best wishes
must ever attend the dear boy.”
[275] He died in 1773, when the title became extinct.
Mrs. Montagu went to recruit at Sandleford with Mr. Montagu,
preparatory to removing the child and establishment there, as she
writes to her sister Sarah, who, with Mrs. Medows, is left in Dover
Street in charge of the son and heir--
[Page heading: BABY CLOTHES]
“I really long to have you here. I think I may say you never saw
anything so pretty as the view these gardens command, for my part I
would not change the situation for any I ever saw; there is nothing
in Nature pretty that they have not. The prospect is allegro, and
as ‘Mirth with thee I chose to live,’ I am glad it is of that kind,
‘the loathed melancholy of Cerberus and blackest midnight, born in
Stygeian cave forlorn,’ dare not appear in this little paradise.
There is a charming grove where your reveries may wander at
pleasure, you may allegorize like Spenser, or pastoralize like the
lesser poets, there are roses and honeysuckles hourly dropping to
put you in mind ‘how small a part of time they share, that are so
wondrous sweet and fair,’ and this will whisper to you ‘de coglier
d’amor la rosa,’ indeed, my dear Sall, these pretty things are mere
toys, as are all things in this world, but a true friend. I am
thankful for the benefits of fortune, and pleased with them, but
really attached only to the person who bestows them. My benefactor
bestows favours with more pleasure and more complaisance too, than
most people receive them with, and this gives the relish to favour,
for as Ophelia says, ‘Gifts grow cheap when givers are unkind.’
“I hope the young plant thrives under your care. Pray write every
post, and say all you can about the boy, for as insignificant as
he seems in his swaddling cloaths, it is more interesting to his
parents to hear of where he went, than to hear of all the feats of
Hercules girded in his Lion’s skin.”
Then she orders a dozen bibs to be made for the babe, of “fine
damask, the pattern of Lady Betty Bentinck’s pinned to my
embroidered quilted petticoat.”
[Page heading: SANDLEFORD PRIORY]
Sandleford Priory is two miles south of Newbury, Berks. It was
originally founded by Geoffry, 4th Earl of La Perche, and his wife
Matilda of Saxony, between the years 1193 and 1202, dedicated to St.
Mary and St. John the Baptist, and placed under the Austin Canons;
but Mr. Money, in his “History of Newbury,” states “the recluses of
Sandleford” are mentioned in the Pipe Roll of the 26th of Henry II.,
1180, so that a body of religious had existed there or near before the
date of the building by the Earl de la Perche.[276] In the reign of
Edward IV., _circ._ 1480, a dispute arose between the Prior and the
Bishop of Salisbury, in whose diocese Sandleford lay; in consequence of
this dispute the monastery was forsaken, and the King, at the instance
of the Bishop (Richard Beauchamp), gave it to the Dean and Chapter
of Windsor. In the 26th of Henry VIII. it was stated to be in their
possession, valued at £10.
[276] His ancestor accompanied the Conqueror to England.
In the time of James I., 1615, Sandleford was declared to be a separate
parish, and unratable from Newbury, but the chapel being dismantled
and unfit for use, £8 a year was ordered to be paid to the Rector of
Newbury, which entitled the occupants of the Priory to a seat in the
Newbury parish church, which has been continued ever since.
The lessees from the Dean and Canons of Windsor appear, from a paper of
my uncle, Lord Rokeby’s, to have been, early in the eighteenth century,
the Pitt Rivers of Stratfieldsaye, by whom the lease was sold in 1717
to William Cradock, Esq., after an intermediate alienation. The lease
was purchased in 1730 by Mr. Edward Montagu, grandson of the 1st Earl
of Sandwich. A letter of April, 1733, of Mr. John Rogers to his aunt,
the Hon. Mrs. Sarah Montagu, at Sandleford, about the death of his
mother, Mrs. Rogers, and her leaving her sister £10, and each of her
three children a ring, is in my possession, and shows she was then
living or staying with her son Edward.
The chapel is erroneously stated in several works (_vide_ Tanner, etc.,
etc.) to be destroyed. It was disused, not destroyed, though the bells,
seats, and the tomb of the crusading knight[277] had disappeared. As
we proceed further into the manuscripts we shall see it was used as a
bedroom or rooms!
[277] Probably Count Thomas de la Perche, son of the founder, as
his father was buried at St. Denis Nogent. Thomas died in 1217. For
a description of the tomb, etc., see note at the end of this book.
The situation of the Priory is charming, the principal rooms fronting
south on a slight eminence, sloping to the river Alebourne, now called
Enborne, which crosses the high-road just below the lower lodge, and
skirts the south side of the park. On the east the ground slopes to a
wooded valley, down which are many ponds, dating from the monks’ time,
some of which were joined together by Mr. Montagu, afterwards more by
his widow, to form lakes. Many fine trees surround it in these days,
and at the time of Mr. Montagu’s first living there, seem to have been
exceedingly numerous; also walled gardens, which are now removed.
Beyond the valley to the east the ground rises in a wooded ridge. The
village here mentioned must have been a few cottages near the mill on
the west, which existed where Sandleford Lodge is now built: these have
all long ago disappeared.
[Illustration: SANDLEFORD PRIORY.]
[Page heading: A PARSON AND HIS WIFE]
To the duchess Mrs. Montagu wrote in raptures of the beauties of
Sandleford, but in the middle of her description states, “Here was I
interrupted by a Parson, his wife and daughter, and I shall not be
reconciled to ‘Prunello and grogram’ again a great while, they robbed
me of those hours I could have dedicated to your grace.” Prunello was
the woollen stuff then used for clerical gowns, grogram a coarse kind
of taffety, a mixture of silk and mohair, applicable to feminine attire.
Mrs. Botham writes on July 8, that as Mrs. Montagu was unable, when her
baby was born, to be applied to, she had given him his father’s name,
John. Lydia Botham had two, if not three, daughters, but this was her
first son.
[Page heading: THE COUNTESS OF GRANVILLE]
From Sandleford Mrs. Montagu returned to London, intending to be
inoculated, but in a letter of July 12 she informs the duchess that Dr.
Mead considered she had better defer the operation till the heat of the
summer was over--in September. In the same letter she states that Mrs.
Medows and herself had called on the old Countess of Granville,[278]
who appears to have been a most garrulous old lady, and Mrs. Montagu
says--
“She fell with all her violence on my complexion, and behold, she
certainly by her description takes my forehead to be tortoishell,
my cheeks to be gold, my eyes to be onyx, and my teeth amber: all
these are precious things, but Mr. Montagu not having so rich
a fancy as King Midas, I know not whether he would like such a
wife. Your Grace may believe I was extremely mortified. The good
woman says Mrs. Medows looks better and younger for being married;
but for me I am pale and green, and describes me as worse than
the apothecary that lives about the rendezvous of death in Caius
Marius. She is of opinion that lying in has spoiled my face; true
it is I have furnished a noble pair of chops to the little boy, and
if mine are a little the lanker for it, I scarce grudge it....”
[278] Grace, Viscountess Carteret, and Countess Granville in her
own right.
Further on she says, “Thank you for your kind inquiry after the young
‘Fidget,’ who loves laughing and dancing, and is worthy of the Mother
he sprang from. As for Mrs. Donnellan, she is well. Mrs. Delany is
better than well.”
Mrs. Pendarves had been married on June 9 this same year to the Rev.
Dr. Patrick Delany,[279] afterwards Dean of Down, and an intimate
friend of Swift’s.
[279] Dr. Delany, born 1686, died 1768; made Dean 1744.
[Page heading: MONKEY ISLAND]
The Montagus, accompanied by Sarah Robinson, now moved with the child
to Sandleford. A letter to the Duchess of Portland of July 26 says--
“Sandleford, near Newbury.
“MADAM,
“If I was as good a poet as Boileau[280] I would complain of
l’Embarras de Londres, and also of l’Embarras de la Campagne,
and of the still greater embarras of travelling from one place
to another. When I had the happiness of your letter, I was so
encompassed with boxes, trunks and portmanteaus, and even that
lesser plague of band-boxes, that I could not give myself the
pleasure of writing to your Grace. Bag and baggage we arrived here
on Thursday night: first marched the child crying, nurse singing,
and the Abigails talking; Mr. Montagu, my sister and myself brought
up the rear. We had fine weather and a pleasant journey. We took a
boat from the Inn of Maidenhead Bridge, and rowed round his Grace
of Marlborough’s Island.[281] I had the pleasure of reflecting on
the agreeable morning I had spent there with you.”
[280] Nicholas Despreaux Boileau, born 1636, died 1711. French poet
of note.
[281] Monkey Island. See _ante_.
Further in the letter she states the duke[282] had planted some cannon
on the borders.
“Mrs. Medows has promised to take the child while I am sick,[283]
and I am best satisfied that it will be with her, for I am sure she
will take care of it, and thank God! it is a very strong healthy
child; indeed were he otherwise I should not leave him, for I think
when they are sickly, no one can be tender enough for them but a
parent.”
[282] Then the 3rd Duke of Marlborough.
[283] Meaning when she was to be inoculated.
She says--
“Dr. Courayer dined with us the day before we left town: he was
more elated with having a letter from you, than he had been
dejected with the overthrow of the French;[284] he looks well, and
his mind is the seat of tranquillity. Donnellan promises to come
down here soon. I hope she will stay till I go to London to be
inoculated.”
[284] Alluding to the battle of Dettingen, fought in June, 1743.
[Page heading: WOMAN’S EDUCATION]
In alluding to a lady who had “excellent sense and wit, but a want of
softness in her manners,” she adds--
“This is of great consequence to a woman to keep off disagreeable
manners, for the world does not mind our intrinsic worth so much as
the fashion of us, and will not easily forgive our not pleasing.
The men suffer for their levity in this case, for in a woman’s
education little but outward accomplishment is regarded. Some of
our sex have an affectation of goodness, others a contempt of
it from their education; but the many good women there are in
the world are merely so from nature, and I think it is much to
the credit and honour of untaught human nature that women are so
valuable for their merit and sense. Sure the men are very imprudent
to endeavour to make fools of those to whom they so much trust
their honour and happiness and fortune, but it is in the nature of
mankind to hazard their peace to secure power, and they know fools
make the best slaves.”
A letter early in August to the duchess, who had now returned to
Bullstrode from Welbeck after visiting Matlock, says--
“I was in hopes to have heard when you would come to town. I wish
you may come up to us soon after the 24th (August) of this month,
which is the time I propose for going to London for inoculation.
I think there is no danger of hot weather after the middle of
September. Dr. Mead says it is the best time for me....
“Matlock must be well worth seeing, we have nothing here of the
wild and uncultivated sort. I intend to go and indulge Reveries
at an old Castle[285] where Chaucer made his fairies gambol,
with as much grace and prettiness as the Muses of old on the
hill of Parnassus. The Castle is on a rising just above Newbury,
and commands a pretty view of the country. The prospect is of
sufficient extent to let the poetick fancy soar at pleasure
among the beauties of Nature. Pray where is ‘Pen,’[286] will she
produce a sprig of bays? it must be a little Master Apollo or a
Miss Minerva from parents of such art and science. I have sent
your Grace a copy of a letter Lord Orford[287] sent to General
Churchill,[288] if ever he was to be envy’d it was when he wrote
that letter: it seems to come from a mind pleased with everything
about it, and easy in itself, amidst the refinement of luxury and
expense, without the madness of intemperance, or inconveniences of
prodigality.”
[285] Donnington Castle.
[286] Mrs. Delany’s old pet-name.
[287] _Alias_ the great Sir Robert Walpole.
[288] General Charles Churchill, commonly called “old Charles
Churchill,” to distinguish him from his son, who afterwards married
Mr. Edward Walpole’s daughter; he was the illegitimate son of James
II. and Arabella Churchill.
[Page heading: LORD ORFORD’S LETTER]
The end of this letter is missing. Lord Orford’s letter, written in an
unknown hand, is thus:--
“Houghton, June 24, 1743.
“DEAR CHARLES,
“(_Lord Orford’s letter to General Churchill._)
“This place affords no news, no subject of entertainment for fine
men. Men of Wit and Pleasure about Town understand not the charms
of the inanimate world: my Flatterers here are Mutes: the Oaks,
the Brookes, the Chestnuts seem to contend which shall best please
the Lord of the Mannour; they cannot deceive, they will not Lye.
I in sincerity admire them and have as many Beauties about me as
fill up all my hours of dangling, and no disgrace attends me from
67 years of age. Within doors we come a little nearer to real
Life, and admire upon the almost speaking canvass all the airs and
graces which the proudest of Town ladies can boast, with these I
am satisfied, because they gratifie me with all I wish, and all
I want, and expect nothing in return, which I cannot give. If
these, Dear Charles, are any Temptation, I heartily invite you to
come and partake of them. Shifting the scene sometimes has its
recommendation, and from Country Fare you may possibly return with
a keener appetite to the more delicate Entertainments of a refined
life.
“I am, dear Charles, etc.,
“ORFORD.
“P.S.--Since I wrote the above we have been surprised with good
news from abroad. Too much cannot be said about it, for it is truly
matter of infinite Joy, as it is of Infinite Consequence.”
Lord Orford is here alluding to the battle of Dettingen.
[Page heading: THE DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH]
The duchess, in a letter of August 26 from Bullstrode, says, “Thanks
for Sir Robert’s letter, I had never seen it.” In alluding to the
tiresome etiquette and interference she suffered from at Welbeck under
Lady Oxford’s despotic rule, she says--
“I please myself that my children will love me better, as my
covetousness will not be obliged ’em to pay me court, and as I
shall have no suspicion of their duty, but be convinced that their
motives proceed from disinterested love, and by that means we shall
each of us be happy. Was the Duchess of Marlborough[289] possessed
by one good quality? I should think she deserved pity more than
the poorest creature in the street, not to have one child, but
what wishes her dead, nor capable of knowing the enjoyments of
friendship.... We propose being in London Monday sennight.”
[289] Sarah, the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough.
On Thursday, August 25, Mrs. Montagu took a sad leave of her little
boy, and started on her journey to London, sleeping at Windsor, at the
house of her sister-in-law, Mrs. Medows. Mr. Montagu remained with the
child till the time his wife should be inoculated, when he was to join
her in London, and Mrs. Medows was to take charge of him. Sarah joined
her sister in London; it will be remembered she had had the disorder.
[Page heading: PREPARATION FOR INOCULATION]
As inoculation is now out of date, I shall extract from the various
letters the mode of procedure. Arrived in Dover Street, Mrs. Montagu
is told by Elias, the duchess’s porter (then a most important domestic
magnate), his mistress was coming to London on Monday. She therefore
writes to beg the duchess, the duke, and Mr. Achard to dine with
her that day “at 4 or 5 according to their convenience.” Business,
however, prevented the duchess leaving Bullstrode for a week, but she
is reinvited, as Dr. Mead says Mrs. Montagu will not be infectious
till the disease appears. Meanwhile, in preparation for the dreaded
operation, she was “dosed, then blooded, another dose or two of physick
is all I shall want, and then proceed to meet that distemper I have
been running from these four and twenty years: it is at present my
misfortune the smallpox is so little stirring they cannot find a
subject.” She writes to the duchess also in another letter, “Though
Dr. Mead, Dr. Cotes, Mr. Hawkins, and the subaltern of the Physical
faculty, the Apothecary, have been smallpox-hunting this week, they
have not procured a subject for me.” She urges the duchess to dine, “as
I shall be as well till 7 or 9 days after the operation as ever I was
in my life.”
The duchess had been out of order with hysterical fits, and states she
was ordered to drive in a chaise. Of this vehicle we gain a glimpse
from this allusion of Mrs. Montagu’s in answer to the duchess, “A
chaise is health, spirits and speed, a lady must lay aside her hoop,
her laziness and pride, before she is diminutive enough for a chaise.”
A portion of a very beautiful letter, written by Mrs. Montagu to her
husband before he joins her, I copy--
“Dover Street, Tuesday, August 30.
“MY DEAREST,
“The happiest moments I have spent since I parted from you, were
those I employed in reading your letter: accept the sincerest
thanks a grateful and tender heart can make to the most kind and
generous love. While Heaven shall lend me life, I will dedicate
it to your service, and I hope our tender engagements shall not
be broke by the cruel hand of fate. Notwithstanding the distemper
I am going into, I have great hopes of my life, and a certainty
of my love to you as long as that life shall last. Your kind
behaviour and conversation has made my Being of such value to me
that I am taking the best means to preserve and secure it from
hazards, but let not the experiment cost you an anxious thought.
It would be a reproach to the laws of Nature, if one as virtuous
as you are, should not be sure to be happy. I trust you shall ever
be so independent of a weak woman, who can serve you in nothing
but wishes: could I reflect back the happiness I receive from you,
I should tremble at my own importance to think of sinking from
happiness to insensibility, and nothing might overcome my little
courage, but to imagine I left you a portion of sorrow and regret
as a burthen on all your years to come, would not only afflict but
even distract me.”
[Page heading: THE REV. CHRISTOPHER DONNELLAN]
The same day that she wrote this letter to her husband, she writes
a note to Mrs. Donnellan, who had joined her brother, the Rev.
Christopher Donnellan, at Tunbridge Wells. He, having been ordered to
drink the waters, and having crossed from Ireland for that purpose,
Mrs. Montagu says, “Does not your brother think he is in Babel? How
does he like English women with French dresses and French manners? In
short, what does grave good sense think of Tunbridge?”
By Mr. Montagu’s desire, Dr. Sandys was added to the previous M.D.’s. A
day or two after this Mr. Montagu joined her, and she was inoculated on
September 3.
[Page heading: WHEATEARS]
[Page heading: ARMY DISCIPLINE]
On September 7 Mrs. Montagu writes to Mrs. Donnellan--
“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,
“As the time that passes between the expectation of a matter of
importance and its happening is not a time of the greatest pleasure
and tranquillity, you will be glad to hear it is four days since
I was inoculated. I am still well and in perfect good spirits:
it would be a sign of levity as I should be sorry and ashamed to
find in myself to be disturbed at the approach of a distemper I
have been seeking. The Duchess of Portland spent the day with me
on Monday, and was here again with Lady Wallingford yesterday, and
I expect her Grace this afternoon. In the meantime I hope to hear
from you, and my sister will give you intelligence of me. Dr. Mead
and Dr. Cotes attend me; I have given them on their prescribing two
guineas apiece, but I am told when Dr. Mead attends constantly,
one guinea a day will be enough, if he comes only once a day, but
I wish you would be so kind as to enquire and let me know when you
write to me; and I will beg you to order your maid to buy 2 Dozen
Wheatears[290] and send them by the Haye Coach. Mr. Montagu never
saw any, so if you please to tell your servant to send them with
the feathers on.
“I am extremely glad to hear Mr. Donnellan finds benefit by the
waters. Your family in Town flourishes much,[291] Mr. Percival is
a young beau, Mrs. Percival has grown almost a toast, and for Mrs.
Shuttleworth,[292] she is a perfect beauty, she has a bloom like
fifteen; I never saw anyone look so fresh and jolly.
“The town is full of reports of the discontent of the Army, it
is almost feared the English and H(anoverian)s should fall upon
each other. A gun going off while the Captain was at dinner, he
bade General Honeywood go and see what was the matter; the General
brought word it was nothing, upon which the great Captain sent
a H(anoveria)n officer, who brought word it was the musket of a
soldier upon guard; the Captain then cry’d he could have no truth
from the E(nglis)h and that the E(nglis)h had no discipline: the
D(uk)e of M(arlboroug)h said they had as much discipline as the
H(anoverian)s, for that coming by their quarters, a ball went under
his horse’s legs.
“Mr. Hawkins[293] comes every day to dress my arms, though the
wounds given for the inoculation are very trifling, he does not
think from the appearance of them I shall be ill yet. I shall be
glad when the proper period for it arrives, but must wait with
patience; it is said people do not know themselves, but by the
little anxiety I have about myself, one would imagine I knew myself
to be of as small consequence as I really am.... My dear little
Babe is perfectly well....”
[290] Wheatears are delicious eating. They are migratory, and only
frequent certain counties. They appear to have been more plentiful
formerly. Sussex and Surrey are favourite localities.
[291] These are Mrs. Donnellan’s stepfather and her mother.
[292] Mrs. Shuttleworth was evidently a relation.
[293] The surgeon.
[Illustration DENTON HALL.]
[Page heading: PHYSICIANS’ FEES]
To this I subjoin a portion of Mrs. Donnellan’s answer from Tunbridge
Wells--
“I received your comfortable letter, writ with the spirit of a
Christian, a Philosopher and a woman of true fortitude. Since you
don’t expect any appearance yet, I may venture to write, or if
you should not be quite well, my letter is of no consequence, and
may be thrown by. I will allow all your reasoning for yourself to
be very good, and will not dispute with you now, whether you are
of consequence to the world or not, I will only beg you to act as
if you were, and take care of yourself for the sake of the few,
and let the world come in for its share of you by an by. I am of
opinion one guinea a day is sufficient from a private gentle woman
to any Physician in England, if he makes but one visit. I know all
our family, and greater than us never gave more either to Hollins
or Willmot; indeed if they prescribe twice they must be paid
twice, but that I hope and believe will not be your case. I am not
acquainted with anyone who makes use of Dr. Mead, but I suppose he
is fee’d like other Physicians of note, and I think raising these
sort of things on one another when they are already high enough by
conscience is wrong....
“Our company quits us apace, but as there is not one body but Lady
Sunderland[294] and Miss Sutton and Lady Catherine Hanmer that I
care particularly for, and they stay, I am quite easy about the
matter. I generally take a rural walk with my maid and man, and
I am just returned from the Rocks, whose natural beauties strike
me more agreeably than the laboured work of a palace. My brother
rides every day, but walking does not agree with him.... No one
here cares for a walk that carries them further than Tod’s Room or
Chenevix’s Shop.[295] In the evening I conform with the world, and
play at Whisk, Roli Poli, or what they will, and make them wonder
that a person who has a guinea in their pockets and can perform at
such entertainments, should prefer wandering in fields and woods
with company little better than the creatures that inhabit them.”
[294] _Née_ Judith Tichborne, third wife of Charles, Earl of
Sunderland; remarried Right Hon. Sir Robert Sutton.
[295] A famous fancy-shop.
On September 12 Mrs. Montagu writes to the duchess, who had returned
to Bullstrode, to say Mr. Hawkins did not believe, from the appearance
of her arms, she would have the smallpox. Dr. Mead and Dr. Cotes had
attended the day before, expecting to find inflammation, but the wounds
appeared healed. From this it appears the surgeon attended the wounds
daily, and doctors occasionally. The very next day (September 13) Mr.
Hawkins pronounced there was no longer a chance of the smallpox.
Mrs. Montagu writes to the duchess, “As Anacreon who swallowed many a
hogshead of the juice of the grape was at last killed with a little
grape stone, I who have missed the dire disease, am grumbling with the
toothache.”
[Page heading: POPE’S GROTTO]
The duchess writes to Mrs. Montagu to beg her to think that though
the smallpox has _not_ appeared, she is as much secured as if it had.
On September 15, as a wind-up to the inoculation, Mrs. Montagu “was
blooded.”
“On Saturday we went to see Mr. Pope’s[296] garden and grotto, to
Hampton Court and Bushey Park,” she writes to the duchess; and on
Wednesday she was intending to pay a visit to her parents at Mount
Morris, Kent, before returning to her child, for whom, she says, “her
heart sickens.” On October 8 she proceeded to Sandleford, leaving Mr.
Montagu, who had business, to follow in a few days; and she writes
to the duchess from the inn at Maidenhead Bridge. In this letter she
says she has great difficulty in “squeezing the cotton in the ink
bottle which I am forced to do before each word, and as my pen is as
prodigal of ink, as the bottle is sparing of it, after I have been
half an hour replenishing my pen, one inconsiderate blot squanders it
away.” This alludes to the strange habit of having cotton placed in
the inn inkstand, under the delusion that it made it last longer. The
whole writing of the letter is thick and blotted. She also mentions,
“My sister set out for Bath this morning, with Mrs. Cotes. Poor madam
Sally’s stomach is greatly out of order, and her nerves are often
affected, but I hope the waters will do her good.”
[296] Pope’s villa and grotto at Twickenham.
[Page heading: A HIGHWAYMAN]
Mrs. Cotes was the doctor’s wife, and a sister of Lord Irwin, a great
friend of Sally’s, very small in stature and pretty, familiarly called
“the _little_ Madam.” The two ladies, accompanied by Mrs. Cotes’
footman, set out for Bath, diverging from Newbury for a night at
Sandleford to see “Punch.” A passage from a letter of Sarah’s will show
the perils of the road. They travelled in a post-chaise--
“A man set out with us from London, and kept us company about seven
miles. He often asked the footman who we were, and whether we were
going over Hounslow Heath; to the last he made no answer, but after
being tired with his curiosity told him we were only ladies’ maids,
upon which he forsook us, either being too proud to accompany
abigails, or supposing we had not money enough to make it worth his
while to go on to Hounslow Heath with us. We had one post-boy that
pleased us extremely, he sung all the way, our pleasure did not
arise from any music in his voice, but from seeing him so happy,
and admiring the power of a contented spirit, that could make a
person so joyful, that was at the caprice of any one, without any
greater advantage than a shilling’s reward, and who is always to be
jolted almost to death, by the only creatures that are beneath him.”
Almost shaken to pieces, they arrived at their lodgings at Mrs.
Elliot’s, in the Orange Grove, Bath. Sarah describes the rooms as
small, but comfortable, “looking down Wade’s Passage and into the
coffee-house, which is a guard to the windows, and very often prevents
their approach.” She grumbles at the expense of their journey, but says
provisions are cheap, fowls one shilling each.
Jenny, her maid, had travelled by coach, a post-chaise of that time
only holding two people. Here is a passage worthy of Fielding, “Jenny
travelled down unspotted and pure with the old parson, who gave her
no comfort, but one spiritual kiss upon getting to the end of their
journey.”
[Page heading: DANGERS OF A POST-CHAISE]
Both Mrs. Cotes and Sarah suffered from the hardness of the
post-chaise, and Sarah also hints that other _visible_ effects had been
incurred which would last for days; hence fleas, if not worse, must
have existed in it! Mrs. Montagu, in writing to condole with them,
says, “It is a daring mind that ventures in a post-chaise. I wonder
the partizans of these vehicles do not establish a broad bottom, and
a competent share of cushion.” The vehicle was, from what I make out,
a two-wheeled chaise. Mrs. Cotes’ footman had been directed to call,
on his way back to London, on Mrs. Montagu. The style of speech of a
servant of this period is shown in this passage--
“Mrs. Cotes’ man called very civilly, and brought me your last
letter. ‘Pray, Mr. Thomas,’ says I, ‘did you leave the ladies
well?’ ‘Yes, and very merry, Madam.’ ‘They had a good journey, I
hope?’ ‘Yes, a very merry, Madam.’ ‘They were not at all afraid?’
‘No, nothing but very merry, Madam.’ ‘Were they not tired when
they came to their inns?’ ‘No, always very merry, Madam!’ At last
Thomas’s account made me ‘so merry, Madam,’ I was forced to retire
to laugh.
“Your nephew gets his share of sunshine every day, his teeth tease
him and produce the dew of sorrow on his little cheeks sometimes,
but in a moment it is forgotten, and he is always lively, and in
continual health: he is thought to grow like his mother, so I think
I may cease to be handsome with a good grace, as I have transferred
it to my offspring.... Your nephew is in his birthday suit,
laughing so I can hear him through the doors; the usurpation and
authority of those bandages called garments he is too full of Whig
principles to approve of!”
[Page heading: “PUNCH’S” CHARIOT]
There were no babies’ carriages in those days, so little Punch drove
out daily in the _chariot_, not to be confounded with the _coach_, a
much larger vehicle.
In the same letter it appears that the good old Yorkshire steward, Mr.
Carter, had had a bad fall, and the house in Dover Street not being
large enough, Morris Robinson was trying to secure them one in Bruton
Street. Mrs. Montagu, having suffered from weakness and hysterical
fits, was recommended to ride daily--a pastime which was agreeably
varied by the cutting of new walks through the Sandleford woods,
and the continual amusement afforded to her and Mr. Montagu by the
contemplation of their child’s too precocious ways.
A few details of life at Bath may prove amusing. Sarah writes to her
sister that the waters agree very well with her, but that people are
amazed at her walking between each glass. She had found a companion in
Mrs. Wadman, Lord Windsor’s sister, whom she had met at the pump-room,
as they drank the waters about the same time, and both were fond of
walking.
The Rev. W. Freind and his wife were at Bath, and Sarah goes to hear
him preach a charity sermon,
“the best I ever heard. I am going to dress to the best of my
skill and power for the sake of his Majesty, this is kept as his
birthday, and there is to be a ball and supper to-night, the men
have subscribed on purpose. Mr. Simon Adolphus Sloper[297] is
to be my partner, and has sent me his tickets, which will carry
in Mrs. Freind also. Mrs. Cotes’ cold is too bad to go.... The
Archbishop[298] is much censured for going away so soon, he has not
tried the waters long enough to know whether they would be of any
use to such an extream case as his.... Mrs. Potter would let her
husband see nobody but herself, and took his duty of preaching upon
herself; she tempered it with a comfortable compliance, and when he
used to say ‘I am sure I shall dye, I wish it might be at home,’
‘To be sure, my dear,’ answers the good wife, ‘it is proper you
should dye where you like, if you chuse it you shall go and dye at
Lambeth.’ ...”
[297] Mr. Sloper lived at West Woodhay, near Newbury.
[298] John Potter, born 1674, died 1747. Archbishop of Canterbury.
[Page heading: A BATH BALL]
At one of the balls Sarah did not dance, but she said she did not
regret it, “having no inclination to dance with any man but Mr.
Pitt,[299] and that I have not acquaintance enough with him to expect,
I can only cherish my hopes of future good fortune.” At another
ball she dances with Mr. Vanburgh, “a very pretty sort of man, but
our affections to him are quite Platonic, as he is in love with the
youngest Miss Nash.” This must have been the sister or daughter of Mr.
Richard Nash[300] (“Beau Nash”), the despotic Master of the Ceremonies
at Bath. He was not well at this time, and Mrs. Montagu sends her kind
regards and condolences on his health. Amongst other people mentioned
at Bath by Sarah were the Duke of Hamilton, Lord Berkeley, Mr. Powlett,
and Mr. Bathurst, son of Lady Selina, the two Offleys, Mr. Greville,
and Lord Robert Carr, said to be very handsome.
“Last night in the middle of the dancing we drank tea with a
gentleman who had invited about twenty of us some days before. They
give tea now almost as much of common days as they used to do on
Sundays.”
[299] Afterwards Earl of Chatham.
[300] Richard Nash, for fifty years Master of the Ceremonies, Bath.
Sarah says she is going to play shuttlecock with a Mr. Amiens,[301] at
the end of this letter; and in the next she states--
“I played at Shuttlecock about half an hour, there were five couple
of us: in truth I played so much better than any in the room, I put
them all in amazement, but it was rather owing to their bad play,
and to my being matched with the two men that played the best,
than my superior skill.... In my last I mentioned I was going to
the ball: there was a table of sweetmeats, jellies, wine, Biskets,
cold Ham and Turkey set behind two Screens, which at 9 o’clock were
taken away, and the table discovered.... Above stairs there was a
hot supper for all that would take the trouble to go up.”
[301] I think this was Mr. Amyand?
[Page heading: “MATHEMATICAL INSTERATION!”]
The ignorance of some ladies of this period is shown by Sarah in the
following extract:--
“A lady told us last night that Miss Molyneux is so great a
_Mathematician_ that she can _inster_ Greek, and that often a dozen
of the most learned men of the Kingdom had puzzled their wise heads
about a piece of Greek, and could make nothing of it; they proposed
to send it to Miss Molyneux, and she _instered_ it (_alias_
construed it), and returned them her _insteration_!”
Whilst Sarah was at Bath, Mrs. Montagu wrote frequently to her mother
at Mount Morris, much, naturally enough, about her child, about whom
the fond grandmother was never tired of hearing. A little sentence
gives a clue to his looks, “If my Father has drawn a blue-eyed
simpering Cherubim, you may fancy him not unlike your grandchild; the
child’s eyelashes are black and long, and he has a laughing look in his
eyes, blue, like my Father.” He was still toothless, and suffered much
with his gums, which made his mother already uneasy. Mr. Montagu had
just taken some prodigious sized carp from a fish-pond at Sandleford,
and was throwing three of the old monks’ ponds, or fish stews, into one
large one.
Mrs. Donnellan writes from Bullstrode on October 21, and says her
brother is now going to Bath, where he will stay with their relations
the Mountraths,[302] and that Sarah Robinson, “if she meets him she
must make the advances, all the young ladies do, as he is a grave,
stiff Parson.” Dr. Young and Lady Peterborough[303] were at Bullstrode
when she wrote.
[302] 6th Earl of Mountrath and his wife.
[303] _Née_ Anastasia Robinson.
[Page heading: MIDGHAM]
In a letter to the duchess of October 25, Mrs. Montagu describes the
gardens at Midgham, the seat of Mr. Poyntz,[304] near Aldermaston,
“to which Mr. Montagu carried me last week, I had no small
expectations of them, both from report and the known sense and
genius of the owner.... Over the door of a little grotto he
declares for retirement in open fields, caves and dens, with living
waters and woods. Statues of the Muses adorn his walls, their
Arts adorn his mind and inspire him with the elegant ingenious
gratitude that gives this public demonstration of honour to them.
Every venerable oak has a seat under it from whence he takes the
sacred oracles of meditation.... The gardens are of uneven ground,
prettily diversified with hills and valleys. There is a fine bason
before the house, that is always well supplied with water, and
inhabited by fish.... I did not see Mr. Poyntz’s house, as it is
not anything extraordinary, it would have been an impertinent
curiosity to desire it, as they visit here when in the country.”
[304] Right Hon. Stephen Poyntz, Lord Treasurer.
Mrs. Donnellan writes for the duchess as well as herself in reply, Lady
Oxford being there, and all the usual writing-hours given up to playing
Pope Joan with her. In this letter, alluding to “Punch” watching with
pleasure the colour of his bed-curtains, she says, “Master Wesley,[305]
who is the most extraordinary child for sense I ever knew, at three
months old, used to be put in a good humour with a suit of tawdry
Tapestry hangings.”
[305] This was Garrett Wesley, afterwards Earl of Mornington. He
was Mrs. Donnellan’s godson, born 1735, died 1781.
The Duke of Portland had the misfortune to break his arm at the end of
November, just as the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Delany had arrived for their
first visit since their marriage on June 9.
[Page heading: A FOOTPAD]
In writing to condole with the duchess, a typical story of a footpad
is given by Mrs. Montagu. The duchess had just set up keeping bees at
Bullstrode, and Mrs. Montagu intended to do the same, but laments she
cannot
“have anything of a menagerie[306] here, there is no trusting
anything out of doors. The town of Newbury is a melancholy example
of the decay of trade, there is misery and poverty and lawless
necessity in an unhappy abundance. We have robbing upon the commons
here very frequently: a poor labourer who has been digging in our
garden last week was very oddly preserved from a wound by a Buckler
made of Cheese, like Sardella in ‘The Rehearsal.’ The poor man had
five shillings in his pocket, when he was stopped by a footpad.
He did not care to surrender his wealth, and so resisted; another
robber came to his comrade’s assistance, and stuck a knife several
inches deep into some cheese and bread he had over his bosom, in a
wallet betwixt his coat and waistcoat. We had a highwayman taken by
a French dancing master a little while ago. When the dancing master
carried him before the Justice of Peace, the Justice asked what day
of the month he was robbed? ‘Ah,’ says the dancing master, ‘me can
no tell dat,’ but turns to the highwayman, ‘but you do know, I pray
tell Monsieur, for you must know what day you did rob, and I pray
you now be so civil as tell de gentleman,’ which, as the highwayman
denied the fact of the robbery, was as good a blunder as one could
desire. The highwayman has since cut his throat, but is likely to
recover, only to try the hempen collar.”
[306] Menagerie was the name given to a collection of birds, from
rare fowl to pheasants, etc.
Mr. Montagu had started that morning (December 1) for the meeting of
Parliament, Mrs. Montagu accompanying him “halfway to Reading.”
[Page heading: THE MINISTRY]
A letter of December 3 of Mr. Montagu’s shows the state of politics in
the House--
“I have been making what enquiry j could about the state of public
affairs, and can learn nothing that is agreeable to one who loves
Great Britain, and is more concerned for his country than the
fatal E(lecto)r of H(anove)r. For though the ministry have been at
variance about some of the treaties mentioned in the Speech and in
the Privy Council, they came to Division, where Lord Carteret and
his friends were only four, and the opposers, j, amongst whom were
Mr. Pelham and Lord Chancellor and others, still matters have since
been so far made up amongst them that it is said they all agreed
(by the mediation of Lord Orford) in the speech and address, which
is reckoned to be Lord Carteret’s, and after a division in our
House, the address was carried by a considerable majority, the yeas
being 278 against 149 noes. Mr. Pitt exerted himself against the
address with his usual eloquence and with great acrimony against a
Minister whom j need not name, after j shall tell you that in his
invective he said what he meant was not against the Ministry, but
against one who was a Minister, and had renounced Great Britain,
who had eat of a certain tree that the Poet tells us makes People
forget everything, even their country, but he hoped the people
would never taste of the fruit of the same tree, nor after his
example forget their country.... Mr. Pelham is to be Chancellor
of the Exchequer, Sandys Pay Master of the Army. The Duke of
Marlborough[307] has resigned.”
[307] He resigned his commission in disgust.
[Page heading: POPE’S “DUNCIAD”]
A letter of December 4 of Mrs. Montagu to the duchess makes the
following comments on the new edition of Pope’s “Dunciad,”[308] to
which he had just added a fourth book:--
“We got Mr. Pope’s new Dunciad printed, but I think it differs
little from the old one: the new Hero[309] is certainly worthy to
have the precedency over all foolish Poets. I like the last Dunciad
for exposing more sorts of follies than the first did, which was
merely upon bad poets and bad criticks. I am always glad when I
see those fops who have translated their manners and language into
French foppery well ridiculed for the absurd metamorphosis, to
ridicule wrong placed pride is of great service, for if it was not
done this land would be over-run with conceit, for here people are
proud of their vices and follies and iniquity, and as long as Pride
arises from such Stocks, we shall never want an increase of it.
Milton says, ‘_Nought profits more than self-esteem right placed_,’
and surely it is true of that pride that makes us disdain vice, but
that which makes people glory in it is as pernicious. The British
vice of gluttony is openly professed so much, one can hardly dine
at a fashionable table where eating is not the discourse the whole
time, and treated of as an affair of the utmost consequence.”
[308] A satire by Alexander Pope.
[309] Colley Cibber.
[Page heading: MRS. POCOCK]
In a letter of December 8, after congratulating the duchess on the
duke’s recovery from his broken arm, Mrs. Montagu adds this description
of the learned Mrs. Pocock;[310] it is interesting, in contrast with
that of the lady who _insters_ Greek!--
“I have been petrifying my brain over a most solid and ponderous
performance of a woman in this neighbourhood; having always a
love to see Phœbus in petticoats, I borrowed a book written by
an ancient gentlewoman skilled in Latin, dipped in Greek and
absorbed in Hebrew, besides a modern gift of tongues. By this
learned person’s instruction was Dr. Pococke[311] (her son)
skilled in antique lore while other people are learning to spell
monosyllables, but Hebrew being the mother tongue, you know it
is no wonder he learnt it. His gingerbread was marked with Greek
characters, and his bread and butter instead of glass windows
was printed with Arabick, he had a mummy for his jointed baby,
and a little pyramid for his playhouse. Mrs. Pocock lives in a
village[312] very near us, but has not visited here, so I have
not had an opportunity to observe her conversation, but really I
believe she is a good woman, though but an indifferent Author. She
amuses herself in the country so as to be cheerful and sociable at
three score, is always employed either reading, working or walking,
and I don’t hear she is pedantic.... She always carries a Greek or
Hebrew Bible to Church.... I desire your Grace to make ten thousand
apologies for me to Mrs. Delany if it is true I have robbed her of
a good name, but I hope you only said this to put me in terrors. I
desire my best compliments to her, Dr. Delany, to whom I wish very
well, though I have offered the shadow of a great injury in seeming
to deprive them of each other.”
[310] Daughter of the Rev. Isaac Milles, Rector of Highclere, a
very learned man.
[311] Rev. Dr. Richard Pococke, eminent Orientalist, Bishop of
Meath, born 1704, died 1765. Dr. Pococke added the “e” to his name.
[312] Newtown.
This was caused by Mrs. Montagu, in a fit of absence, having addressed
a congratulatory letter to Mrs. Delany as Mrs. Pendarves, her former
name, which caused much mirth in the Bullstrode circle.
Mr. Montagu writes on December 8--
“We had yesterday a motion of consequence in the House, which was
to have an humble address presented to his Majesty to forthwith
dismiss the Hanoverians in the British pay, which occasioned a
fine debate, and was carried in the negative by a majority of 50,
the numbers being 181 against 131. The same is to come on tomorrow
before the House of Lords, and Lord Sandwich is to begin, which j
doubt not he will do in the best manner.”
Dr. Freind, who, with his wife, was invited to spend Christmas at
Sandleford, playfully bids Mrs. Montagu to write him a sermon to preach
before the King, as he will have to do in a few weeks.
The year ends with Sarah and Morris Robinson and the Freinds staying at
Sandleford.
[Year: 1744]
The first letter of interest in 1744 is one from Mr. Montagu to his
wife, written February 23, from London, whither he had returned for the
meeting of Parliament.
[Page heading: SUGAR TAX]
After alluding to parliamentary debates and elections, and to the
failure of the new tax proposed upon sugar, “which was carried in the
negative by a majority of 8 only, to the great joy of those concerned
in the Sugar Colonies, and the duty is to be raised on the surplusage
of the tax which was given upon spirituous liquors[313] last year,” he
says--
“The danger of the Pretender, if we may believe our wise and
vigilant ministers, is not yet blown over. It is said that a few
days ago several French men of war were seen off Rye and that
the Pretender’s Eldest Son has been seen walking about publickly
at Calais, and is styled Charles the 3rd, his Father having
relinquished his rights in his favour; but people seem to be little
affected with any apprehensions of danger, and what the designs of
the French were, a little time will discover; whatever they shall
prove to have been j am heartily sorry for the alarm, and whatever
ground or no ground there has been for the rumour of an invasion,
j am afraid it will be made use of as a pretence for a further
plundering of us, and invasion of our pockets, for j cannot forget
what j have heard before j sat in the House, that a member (I think
his name was Hungerford) should say the Pretender was the best
wooden leg a ministry ever had to beg with, and perhaps the present
may have as much inclination to make use of it as ever any of their
worthy predecessors had.”
[313] Tax on spirits, passed 1742–3.
[Page heading: THE PRETENDER]
[Page heading: SIR JOHN NORRIS]
On February 25 Mr. Montagu writes--
“Since my last the King has sent another message to the House
with some intelligencies concerning the invasion and the French
King’s[314] answer to Mr. Thompson,[315] our agent in Paris in
relation to the removal of the Pretender’s Son out of France,
in pursuance of treaties which in substance is as follows,
viz.:--‘That engagements entered into by treaties are not binding
any further than those treaties are religiously observed by the
contracting parties on all sides. That when the King of England
shall have caused satisfaction to be given on the repeated
complaints that have been made to him of the infractions of these
very treaties of which he now demands the performance, which
violations were committed by his orders, his Most Christian
Majesty will then explain himself upon the demands now made by Mr.
Thompson in the name of his Majesty.’ Besides this there was a long
affidavit of a Master of the packet boat read, letting us know that
he saw a young man who was called the Chevalier, and said to be the
Pretender’s Eldest Son, with another young man, his brother, that
there was arrived there Count Saxe,[316] who was to bring over here
in transports, 1500 men, together with several particulars too long
to be inserted here.... The House addressed his Majesty to augment
his forces both by sea and land as much as be necessary, and that
they would defray the expense.
“An express arrived yesterday that Sir John Norris[317] with
his squadron was in sight of the French fleet, that he stood
off Romney, and they were at Dengeness, that he weighed anchor
and would endeavour to come up with them, and bring them to an
engagement if possible. It was this morning reported he had
demolished them, but this wants confirmation, as well as the news
of Admiral Matthew’s[318] having beat the Toulon fleet,[319] with
which there has been an engagement.”
[314] Louis XV.
[315] The English Resident.
[316] Maurice, Comte de Saxe, born 1696, died 1750. Field-Marshal
of France.
[317] Admiral Sir John Norris, died 1749.
[318] Admiral Thomas Matthews, born 1681, died 1751.
[319] On February 9.
Mrs. Montagu and her sister now joined Mr. Montagu in Dover Street,
leaving little “Punch” at Sandleford with regret. On the way their
coachman, who had met them at Hounslow with their own chaise, ran a
race with a coach and four, and overturned them, but they were none the
worse; in fact, being upset in a carriage in those days seems to have
been little thought of!
A letter of March 4 of Mrs. Robinson from Mount Morris says--
“Sir John Norris is returned into the Downs, and all our fears are
over. I heard that the people of Romney and Lydd had their most
valuable goods packed up and put in carts ready to drive away,
if they saw any occasion: for my part I was very composed, never
thinking there would be any occasion to put myself in a stickle....
I am so good a subject to his Majesty that I can’t conceive any
people would be so foolish to assist France with setting up a
Popish Pretender.”
A letter from the duchess states that she has been reading Lord
Bolingbroke’s “Dissertations upon Partys,” and desires Mrs. Montagu’s
opinion on them. She laughs at the idea of the invasion, and says,
“Cecil, the Pretender’s agent, is taken up, and likewise Carle, and
some say Lord Weims,[320] others his second son Charles.”
[320] James, 5th Earl of Wemyss.
[Page heading: SIR SEPTIMUS ROBINSON]
In a letter to Mr. Freind, Mrs. Montagu mentions meeting at a drum of
Mrs. Mainwaring’s “My cousin Septimus Robinson, dressed as gay as a
lover, but whether that was the footing he was upon, I do not know.”
Septimus Robinson was a brother of Mrs. Freind, and, as his name
denotes, was the seventh child of William Robinson of Rokeby. He was
born in 1710, was educated at Oxford, then entered the army, and served
in the ’45, under General Wade. He left the army in 1754; became
Governor to the Dukes of Gloucester and Cumberland, brothers of George
III., and eventually was made Usher of the Black Rod. He died unmarried
in 1765.
In the same letter she states--
“Lestock and Matthews are now examined before the Parliament as to
their conduct in the Mediterranean. It is said by some who have
read it Thompson’s[321] new play is equal to Otway’s[322] _Orphan_
and Rowe’s[323] _Fair Penitent_.”
[321] James Thomson, born 1700, died 1748. Poet; author of “The
Seasons.”
[322] Thomas Otway, born 1651, died 1685.
[323] Nicholas Rowe, born 1673, died 1718. Poet Laureate.
She adds--
“In the morning all throng to the Senate House, and at night to
the playhouse;[324] those who bewail the poverty of the nation
in the morning, part with gold for two hours’ entertainment at
the Oratorio at night. Those who talk of taxation, did they but
see how full of powder, and how empty of thought the heads of
the Hydra appear to be, they would fear nothing from so spruce a
set of Senators. I think the town was never so gay or so fond of
amusements.”
[324] Garrick was acting “King Lear” then.
On March 31, 1744, the Duke of Portland wrote to announce the birth of
his second son, Lord Edward,[325] saying--
[325] Lord Edward Charles Bentinck, died 1819.
“I should be wanting in regard to the long friendship which has
existed between you and my wife, were I not to give you the
earliest notice of your friend: she was safely brought to bed of a
boy this morning, at three quarters after 3. She and the child are
as well as can be expected.”
[Page heading: “HIDE” PARK]
The Montagus now returned to Sandleford to visit their child, leaving
Sarah in Dover Street to await her father’s arrival from Kent to fetch
her. A passage in the following letter throws a light on the vehicles
in use at this period:--
“Passing through Hide Park,[326] we saw capering horses with
creatures on their backs more whimsical than themselves.... Between
London and Kensington were many pert folk in single Horse Chairs,
who seemed proud of the government of the humblest machine, saving
a wheelbarrow, that ever the art of man contrived: one of these
chaises had like to have suffered by contending with his Grace’s
coach and six. Towards Uxbridge we met a leathern vehicle called a
flying coach, a most intolerable counterfeit, for in fact it merely
crawls. We passed two or three travelling waggons laden with many a
ton of Humanity, the savour of which would have made the delicate
nostril a misanthrope.... Our dear little fellow is all alive and
merry, and more grown in length than breadth.”
[326] _Sic_. Query, was it originally _Hide Park_?
[Page heading: A DOMESTIC COMEDIAN!]
Dr. Freind, now made a Prebendary of Westminster, in addition to his
living at Witney, in this year sent a present of Witney blankets to
Mrs. Montagu and a Witney rug to Sarah Robinson. On April 8 Mrs.
Montagu writes to thank him, and says--
“Your kind present is significant of the warmth of a friend. I
think there is great analogy between friendship and a blanket. We
have been here (Sandleford) almost a fortnight, much diverted with
the humours of ‘Punch,’ who grows a merry fellow. I like my little
comedian so well, I shall be sorry to change him for the great
comedians; my little actor has no artifice but hide and seek, nor
plays any tricks but innocent Bopeep.
“I hope now Lord Carteret is going to take a young, handsome
Lady[327] his politicks will take a milder tone....
“Have you seen Dr. Gregory and his bride? When I saw the Doctor
at Mrs. Knight’s, I did not apprehend he designed to be our dear
cousin.”
[327] His second wife, Lady Sophie Fermor, daughter of 1st Earl
Pomfret; married April 14, 1744.
This is the first mention of Dr. John Gregory, afterwards such an
intimate friend of the Montagus. He was the son of Dr. James Gregory,
an eminent physician, by his second marriage with Anne Chalmers, and
grandson of James Gregory, who invented the Gregorian telescope. His
bride, who, judging from the above, must have been a cousin of the
Robinsons, was Elizabeth,[328] daughter of William, 13th Baron Forbes,
by his wife Dorothy Dale. Lady Forbes lost £20,000 in the South Sea
bubble. Dr. John Gregory[329] became a distinguished physician, and an
author of note. Frequent mention of him will be made later on.
[328] She had beauty, wit, and a large fortune.
[329] A daughter of his married A. Allison, and was mother of the
historian.
In the same letter Mrs. Montagu urges Dr. Freind to write and
congratulate the duchess on her second son’s birth. The Freinds had
just commenced a friendship with the Portlands.
[Page heading: GOWNS]
Mrs. Robinson asks her daughter, who had now returned to London, to buy
her a lutestring gown, “but as I have a tabby of a dark brown, I would
have my lutestring pretty light.” This gown, from a further letter,
appears to have cost 6_s._ 9_d._ a yard, and Mrs. Montagu suggests she
should buy a French trimming of Mademoiselle for the same, “a slight
pretty thing for a guinea.” A capucin Mrs. Robinson had ordered; she
says, “I like my capucin much better than that which was shorter, and
it is quite good enough for the use one makes of them.” Probably a hood
with a deep cape, as in a previous letter the garment is described as
“always ugly, but useful.”
Mrs. Robinson says, “I suppose you have had your promised visit from
Mrs. Middleton.[330] I believe the doctor would give something to be in
the state of widowhood once again; she is queer and ill-tempered, and
he heartily tired with it.”
[330] Mrs. Conyers Middleton No. 2.
Mrs. Botham, Mrs. Laurence Sterne’s sister, had been in London, and
Mrs. Montagu had written to her mother--
“Mrs. Botham is really quite well behaved, she has not anything of
the Hoyden now. I believe she is one of the best wives and best
Mothers, and an admirable housewife. I bought a very handsome
quarter lace cap for my godson, and presented her with it. Mr.
Botham wants to be a King’s Chaplain, and I have offered her my
interest with her Grace of Portland, who by means of Bishop Egerton
and others could easily get it for him.”
To this her mother[331] replies--
[331] Mrs. Botham was Mrs. Robinson’s niece.
“I am much pleased with the character you give of Mrs. Botham, I
always thought her one of good understanding and good temper, and
as to her giddiness, I hope it is partly wore off. I should have
been pleased to have seen her at Horton, if her time had admitted.
She always had a chearful, agreeable disposition. I much fear his
being chaplain to his Majesty, if he should succeed, will be no
advantage to him, for as I take it, must occasion London journeys,
and without good interest he may be no nearer preferment.... I
believe his income is but small, and his family increases very
fast. I wish they have not a spirit of generosity much superior to
it, they keep a good deal of company, and of the expensive kind.”
At a party at the Duchess of Portland’s the bride, Lady Carteret, is
thus described by Mrs. Montagu--
“She came in a sack and a night-cap for which she made an apology,
and said she had a cold. I suppose she designs to carry her dignity
high enough by this, particularity of dress. She is handsome
enough, has a good air, a genteel, easy address without any
_mauvaise honte_.”
[Page heading: FANS]
In a letter of Sarah’s, May 10, thanking her sister for a fan, she
reminds her she was then at “Mrs. May in Tooke’s Court, in Cursitor
Alley, Chancery Lane.” She also mentions buying a tabby gown, 7_s._
3_d._ a yard, at Wells and Hartley, at the “Naked Boy and Woolpack,” in
Ludgate Street. Mrs. Montagu replying, says--
“I am glad you like the fan; there are some worn at present that
exceed the flails of a mill. Cotes has one that makes an eclipse of
her little person whensoever she pleases to flirt it. I have been
buying finery for your nephew, a famous pink satin coat, and two
flowered lawn frocks, extremely fine.”
[Page heading: A PINK SATIN COAT]
“Punch,” being now turned a year old, was to be weaned, and many were
the anxieties and qualms of his mother on that occasion. Her mother
wrote wise advice to her on the subject, with her experience of a large
family. After this she adds--
“He must be most delightful now he runs and prattles, he will look
a little angel in his finery....
“I find you are still a house hunting: as to the house you mention
in Grosvenor Square, I think the fault of it cannot be in the
goodness of the house or situation, for, as I take it, they are all
calculated for large fortunes.
“It gave me great joy to hear my Robert got safe to Bengall. I hope
by the end of the summer, we shall have him safe here, and poor
‘Pigg’ with him.”
“Poor Pigg” was a pet-name for Charles Robinson, who suffered from weak
eyes, and had accompanied his brother on this voyage for health’s sake.
The weaning of “Punch” was successfully carried out, and we learn from
the letters from Mrs. Montagu to her husband, who was still detained in
London, that he was fed on “milk porridge, bread and rusks, and drinks
milk and water all day.”
A letter of Mr. Montagu’s of June 7 mentions meeting the Duke and
Duchess of Portland coming from church at the Banqueting Hall, White
Hall, and accompanying them home. Mr. Carter, the faithful steward, and
his son Willy, who had just returned from the war wounded, were in town.
“Yesterday I waited on the Duke of Montagu[332] about our young
Hero (Wm. Carter), who will get made a lieutenant, which does not
give us the same satisfaction as a Captain’s commission would do,
but the Duke said they would not do it for him. I am to consult
with his agent, Mr. Guerin, about it.”
[332] John, 2nd Duke of Montagu, born 1705, died 1749; married
Mary, fourth daughter of Duke of Marlborough.
The regiment was probably the 2nd Horse, which the duke then commanded.
The duke was a relation of Mr. Montagu’s, both being descended from a
common ancestor.
[Page heading: A WET-NURSE]
Writing to Sarah Robinson, Elizabeth says--
“Your nephew continues his manlike behaviour, and scorns to weep
over a trifle, he is quite well, and has been dancing in his shirt
on a blanket spread on the ground, he dances after a droll manner,
for not being very firm on his legs he reels about when he gets out
of his common pace, and he flourishes his hands and legs, and is
just a little merry drunken Bacchus.”
Mrs. Kennet, the wet-nurse, was about returning to her farmer husband
in Kent--
“Mrs. Kennet will soon be restored to her husband. We are to make
up her salary to £50. I have given her a good deal of cloaths too,
the brown silk night gown, a brown camblet, two short cotton gowns,
and I have dyed my purple Tabby blue, and added two yards of new to
it, which will make her fine.”
[Page heading: APRONS]
The first mention is made in this letter of Mrs. Dettemere, of whom
more anon. This poor woman appears to have been in a good position of
life, and well known to the Robinsons, but unhappy circumstances had
placed her in great distress. Mrs. Montagu says--
“I have collected 3 guineas for her, and put her on a scheme of
working blonde caps. I sold one for her for 7_s._ 6_d._ that cost
her only 18_d._... I am to lend her £5 to lay out in ribbons,
and get her customers, and she is to work muslin aprons which
I will find the materials for, and when she sells them I am to
be repaid.... I wish you would devise a pattern of sprigs for an
apron for Mrs. Dettemere to work, I dare not let her have the same
as Mrs. Medows’[333] apron, but I think to get one of monkeys and
squirrels.”
[333] Mr. Montagu’s sister.
Writing to Mrs. Donnellan on June 7, Mrs. Montagu says--
“The country is now extremely delightful, all nature is in bloom,
every being joyous and happy, it seems to me impossible that any
citizen of so fair a world should harbour any gloomy care in their
breast. It is a vain pretence we make to delicacy and taste, while
we prefer a dirty town to the country in the fine Season: all
the arts of luxury cannot invent any pleasures equal to what one
receives from soft air, moderate sunshine, a gay scene of prospect
and the musick of the feather’d songsters. Sir William Temple[334]
says his three wishes were, ‘health, peace and fair weather.’ I
have often thought that saying not the least wise of many of his
admired sentences.”
[334] Sir William Temple, born 1628, died 1699, at Moor Park,
Surrey. Patron of Swift and his “Stella.”
Mr. Carter, the faithful north-country agent, was now at Sandleford,
and on June 15 Mrs. Montagu writes to her sister, who was staying at
Chilston in Kent with the Thomas Bests. Mr. Best had married Caroline,
_alias_ “Cally,” Scott, of Scott’s Hall, the intimate friend of both
sisters. A most happy marriage it appears to have been--
“Your nephew is really a droll fellow. Mr. Carter is half bewitched
with him, at the first salutation ‘Old Trusty’[335] had tears of
joy, he cries out ‘Bonnie Bairn, ye are a fine one, weel worth it,
weel worth it, I warrant hee’s think of me when I be dead and
gone, I’se make all t’improvements I can for him. Thank God he’s
have a bonnie estate when all comes in; God send him to live to an
ould man: oh my lady he’s brave company. God’s blessing light on
him,’ thus he ran on for an hour. The child grew immediately fond
of him, cries after him, and will beat away even the nurse, if she
takes him away from Mr. Carter.”
[335] A nickname of Mr. Carter’s.
[Page heading: ORANGE TREES]
The Duchess of Portland had promised to give a dozen orange trees
from Bullstrode to Mrs. Montagu, which she was most anxious to have.
These trees were to be sent to the Red Lyon at Slough, where the
Newbury carrier was to take them up. They arrived, after the following
vicissitudes, safely:--
“The poor waggoner who was to have brought them was unhappily
killed some days ago by a loaded waggon falling on him; his servant
foolishly left the orange trees because he said he had no room for
them, and at 9 o’clock at night they brought us word the orange
trees were left at Slough. We immediately sent servants with a
cart who travelled almost all night, and brought the trees safe,
the next day. They have not received the least damage, they are
blooming, full of fragrance,” says Mrs. Montagu in her letter of
thanks. She also asks for Mr. Achard to instruct her as to their
culture, “whether they should be nailed to the wall, without
pruning their heads, and thirdly what size the tubs should be for
those that are to be kept in that manner.”
Mr. Achard’s instructions were sent, but alas! are lost.
Mr. Montagu being obliged to go to the North to attend to business of
his own, and as trustee to Mr. Rogers, Mrs. Montagu had determined on
accompanying him and taking “Punch” and her sister Sarah with them.
It was with some difficulty she obtained leave of her parents for her
sister’s company, as they considered she had been so much away from
them. Sarah was desired not to come in the stage-coach from Horton, but
by a post-chaise or chariot at Mrs. Montagu’s expense, and
“ask Matt to lend you his footman to ride by the chaise. You know
it will only cost you 3_d._ a mile more.
“Your nephew has just had his pink sattin coat tryed on, and he was
so fond of it, he scolded and fought every one who approached him,
lest they should deprive him of his new cloaths. He has just learnt
to make a bow with a good grace, and he is very lavish of it.”
[Page heading: ADMIRAL ANSON]
Mrs. Donnellan writes from Hampstead, where she has taken lodgings for
her health, on July 4, and she describes Admiral Anson’s[336] booty
being taken to the bank thus--
“I went yesterday morning to London, I found all my folks gone to
see the show of Anson’s wealth carried to the Bank, so I went to my
Lord Egmont’s[337] and saw two and thirty dirty waggons pass by,
guarded by a number of tanned sailors, but we had the pleasure of
knowing or thinking those dirty waggons contained what makes all
the pursuits of this world....
“The Duke and Duchess of Portland staid a day longer than they
designed to see this Show. The King and all the royal family were
spectators. The Tars were very happy and dressed themselves in the
Spanyards’ fine cloaths.”
[336] Admiral Lord Anson, born 1697, died 1762.
[337] 1st Earl Egmont, a relation of Mrs. Donnellan’s stepfather.
Commodore Anson had been absent from England three years and nine
months. He had intercepted a Spanish treasure ship, _Neustra Signora
de Cabodonga_, loaded with treasure, etc., to the value of £313,100
sterling![338]
[338] Altogether he obtained £500,000.
Mrs. Donnellan continues--
“I have not yet heard from Mrs. Delany from Ireland. They were
stopped at Chester by the Dean’s having a return of ague, so you
see though a fine preferment may cure, it cannot preserve from
future evils. The yacht was ready and they hoped to sail the next
morning.”
[Page heading: CLOTHES]
Lord Carteret had just made Dr. Delany, Dean of Down. Sarah Robinson
was to stay in Dover Street a few days to prepare for her northern
journey before joining the Montagus at Sandleford, and Mrs. Montagu
gives her many commissions--
“Mr. Montagu desires you would be so kind as to buy him a purple
tabby for a wastecoat, and a handsome gold lace to trim it; he
has got a pretty Coventry stuff coat making up here, and would
have a purple tabby wastecoat to wear with it; please to consult
Morris[339] both as to the quantity of silk and lace necessary,
and also what kind of buttons would be proper.... Get pink sattin
enough for a pair of shoes for your nephew, for he wants a pair of
shoes for his silk coat: get me coarse canvass for the two little
armchairs in the dining room in Dover Street, and buy me shades in
purple worsted to do them in Irish stitch in squares, there must be
some white Thrum for a stitch in each square. I should be glad if
you would buy me a pink French paste cross and earrings, the best
you can get at Chenevix.”[340]
After ordering some table linen to be brought,
“six table cloaths, three dozen napkins, two pair of sheets, 4 pair
of Pillibers,[341] my gold lutestring gown, and my white sack with
the flowers, and a gold handkerchief, my new hoop please pack up.
Pack up paper of all sorts and sizes enough for all our use, and
also wax, you will find a stationer’s shop in my cabinet of which I
sent you the key. Bring a stick of wax for your nephew.”
[339] Her brother, Morris Robinson.
[340] Mrs. Chenevix’s celebrated fancy-shop.
[341] Evidently means pillow-cases.
In a letter to Dr. Freind, Mrs. Montagu says--
“‘Punch’ is a fine fellow, he is greatly improved since you last
saw him, he is now an admirable tumbler, I lay him down on a
blanket on the ground every morning before he is dressed, and at
night when he is stripped, and there he rolls and tumbles about to
his great delight.”
Alas! the mother’s joy was turned to grief, for in a few days after,
Punch cut his first tooth with great difficulty and severe illness.
They set out on their journey to the North on July 31, when they
started _viâ_ Oxford, stopping at the Blue Boar there.
[Page heading: MR. JAMES MONTAGU]
[Page heading: CAMBRIDGE AND STOWE]
The following letter to the Duchess of Portland was written from
Newbold Verdon, Mr. James Montagu’s seat in Leicestershire. He was the
elder half-brother of Mr. Montagu by Mr. Charles Montagu’s first wife,
Elizabeth Forster, daughter of Sir James William Forster, of Bamborough
Castle, Northumberland. Newbold Verdon had been left to Mr. James
Montagu by his uncle by marriage, Nathaniel, Baron Crewe of Stene, who
married Dorothy Forster.
“Newbold Verdon, August 9, 1744.
“MADAM,
“I did not set out on my journey so soon as we proposed; the letter
we sent to my brother Montagu having made the tour of England
before it reached him, so we waited for an answer. The 31st of July
we set out for Oxford, where we spent an agreeable day in seeing
new objects and old friends. The good people from Witney[342] were
so kind as to come over to see us, and show us what was best worthy
our attention. The University, I think, is finer than Cambridge,
but does not excel so much as I had imagined. Alma Mater, however,
presides in great dignity there. I had hoped to have seen Mr.
Potts,[343] but was informed he was at Bullstrode, or I should have
sent to have begged the favour of seeing him.
“The mighty Shaw[344] had left the classic ground to take care
of his glebe in the country. The first of August we went to
Stowe,[345] which is beyond description, it gives the best idea
of Paradise that can be; even Milton’s images and descriptions
fall short of it, and indeed a Paradise it must be to every mind
in a state of innocence. Without the soul’s sunshine every object
is dark, but a contented mind must feel the most ‘sober certainty
of waking bliss.’ The buildings[346] are indeed in themselves
disagreeably crowded, but being dedicated to Patriots, Heroes,
Lawgivers and Poets, men of ingenuity and invention, they receive
a dignity from the persons to whom they are consecrated. Others
that are sacred to imaginary powers, raise pleasing enthusiasm
in the mind. What different ideas arise in a walk in Kensington
Gardens, or the Mall, where almost every face wears impertinence,
the greater part of them unknown, and those whom we are acquainted
with, only discover to us that they are idle, foolish, vain and
proud. At Stowe you walk amidst Heroes and Deities, powers and
persons whom we have been taught to honour, who have embellished
the world with arts, or instructed it in Science, defended their
country and improved it. The Temples that pleased me most for the
design to which they were consecrated, were those to ‘Ancient
Virtue,’[347] to ‘Friendship,’[348] and to ‘Liberty.’
“On Saturday last we arrived at my brother Montagu’s, who has made
this place one of the most charming and pleasant I ever saw: the
gardens are delightful, the park very beautiful, the house neat
and agreeable, and everything about it in an elegant taste. My
brother has made great improvements. It was a very bad place when
Lord Crewe left it to him, and had no ornament but fine wood; now
there is water in great beauty, grand avenues from every point,
fine young plantations, and in short, everything that can please
the eye. But nothing gives me so much pleasure as the obliging and
friendly reception of the Master, who has entertained us in a kind
and elegant and magnificent manner. The regularity and order of the
family, and the happiness that appears in the countenance of every
friend and servant, gives one pleasure to observe it....
“I am, Madam,
“Your Grace’s most obedient,
Humble servant,
“E. MONTAGU.”
[342] The Rev. Dr. Freind and wife.
[343] Frequent mention is made of Potts in the letter, but no clue
as to who he was.
[344] Dr. Thomas Shaw, divine and antiquary, also conchologist,
born 1692, died 1751.
[345] Stowe in Buckinghamshire, the magnificent seat of Viscount
Cobham.
[346] Alluding to numerous temples and monuments in the gardens.
[347] In this are the statues of Greek sages, by Scheemackers.
[348] Erected by Lord Cobham for busts of his political friends.
[Page heading: NEWBOLD VERDON]
After leaving Newbold Verdon, the Montagus went over Thoresby, the
seat of the Duke of Kingston.[349] In a letter to Mrs. Freind from
Allerthorpe, where the Montagus had arrived on August 16, Thoresby is
thus described--
“A fine place enough, but does not deserve what is said of it;
the cascade is not pretty, it is regular and formal. The lake
from which it is supplied is fine. The verdure of the park is not
good, nor are there fine trees. Our last stage was to York, where
we saw the Assembly Room[350] built by Lord Burlington, it is
prodigiously grand and beautiful.”
[349] The 2nd Duke of Kingston, called by Sir Horace Walpole
“a very weak man, of the greatest beauty, and finest person in
England.”
[350] Designed by Richard, 3rd Earl of Burlington, celebrated as an
amateur architect. He built Burlington House.
[Page heading: “PUNCH’S” DEATH]
In a letter to the Duchess of Portland of August 19, Mrs. Montagu said
her boy had borne the journey well, and was “quite well.” She intended
to leave him in Mrs. Carter’s care whilst she accompanied Mr. Montagu
to Newcastle, where the air was not healthy, and roads very bad. Alas!
a few days after, poor little “Punch,” in cutting another tooth, was
taken with convulsion fits and died. The exact date I am unaware of.
Lodge, in his “Peerage of Irish Peers,” states he died on August 17,
and was buried at Burneston.[351] The date of the day is wrong, as will
be perceived by her letter to the duchess. My grandfather simply states
he died of convulsion fits, occasioned by teething, no date; but as
Mrs. Freind wrote to condole with Mrs. Montagu on September 3, it must
have happened soon after her letter to the duchess. As no parents, from
their letters, could have adored an infant more than the Montagus, it
may be judged what a blow this was to them. Many sweet passages about
this child have I suppressed from want of space. He seems to have been
of a too precocious nature in mind and body. He was so large he wore
shoes big enough for a child of four. He ran alone and talked, and
mimicked people’s manners and ways, and was only one year and three
months old! “Our little cherub,” “our sweet angel,” as his father
constantly writes of him. The noble way in which both his parents
supported their anguish will be seen by future extracts from letters.
Dr. Freind’s fine letter of condolence to Mrs. Montagu is indorsed at
the back, “Letter from Dr. Freind on the unhappy loss of my son,”
and is much worn with constant reading. He had lost two children, and
was then threatened with the loss of his father,[352] whom he adored.
The poor Montagus, much as they desired children, never had any more.
I sometimes think that this poignant and irrevocable loss turned
Elizabeth Montagu’s thoughts more strongly to literature and knowledge
of all kind. She sought to occupy her mind as a solace for grief, but
she never forgot her loss, and every now and then the bitterness of it
is shown in passages in her letters.
[351] His body was moved to Winchester Cathedral eventually, and is
buried with his father and mother there, by her will in October,
1800.
[352] The Rev. Dr. Robert Freind, died August 9, 1751.
[Page heading: THE LOSS OF AN ONLY CHILD]
The Duchess of Portland writes on September 7, 1744--
“MY DEAREST AND MOST AMIABLE OF FRIENDS,
“Could I have thought I should have given you a moment’s relief or
abated the anguish of your affliction, I should before now have
written to you, but I found myself too much affected to be able
to say anything to lessen it. Thank God, my dear Friend, your
Health is good, my dependence is upon your good understanding and
submission to the Divine Will, for no one can have a higher idea
of the Deity than I know you have. Everything is in His disposal,
our blessings, and our afflictions, and He never chastises us
above what we are able to bear. This affliction would have been
still more grievous had you been out of the way.[353] You might
have thought some neglect had been the cause, which now you
are convinced was not in the power of Human Means. There is no
misfortune but what God Almighty discovers His mercy in some means
or other, even in our most bitter calamities. But why should I
tell you this, that know and think so much better than I can do?
It is a great comfort to me that you are well, and I hope you will
endeavour to keep so. Miss Robinson has been most excessively
kind in giving me such frequent accounts of you, for which I shall
ever esteem her, and be her most humble, grateful servant.... What
would I give to be with you, my dear Friend, that you might pour
out your whole heart, and utter all your grief, but it is never in
my power to be of any service to those I love. Adieu, God bless
and preserve you from any future ill, but that He may heap many
blessings on you is the ardent wish of one that entirely loves you
with the utmost fidelity and will ever be yours.”
[353] This shows Mrs. Montagu was not away at the time of her
child’s death.
[Illustration:
_Thomas Hudson Pinx._ _Emery Walker Ph. Sc._
_Margaret Cavendish Harley second Duchess of Portland._]
[Page heading: SUBMISSION TO GOD’S WILL]
To this letter Mrs. Montagu replied--
“Allerthorpe, September 16, 1744.
“I am much obliged to my dear Friend for her tender concern for
me; I would have wrote to you before, but I could not command my
thoughts so as to write what might be understood. I am well enough
as to health of Body, but God knows the sickness of the soul is far
worse. However, as so many good friends interest themselves for me,
I am glad I am not ill. I know it is my duty to be resigned and to
submit; many far more deserving than I am have been as unfortunate.
I hope time will bring me comfort. I will assist it with my best
endeavours; it is in affliction like mine that reason ought to
exert itself else one should fall beneath the stroke. I apply
myself to reading as much as I can, and I find it does me service.
Poor Mr. Montagu shows me an example of patience and fortitude,
and endeavours to comfort me, though undoubtedly he feels as much
sorrow as I can do, for he loved his child as much as ever parent
could do. My sister has been of great service to me; and on this,
as on all other occasions, a most tender friend. I am much obliged
to you for wishing yourself with so unhappy a companion: your
conversation would be a cordial to my spirits, but I should be
afraid of being otherwise to yours. Adieu, think of me as seldom as
you can, and when you do, remember I am patient, and hope that the
same Providence that snatched this sweetest blessing from me, may
give me others, if not I will endeavour to be content, if I may not
be happy. Heaven preserve you and your dear precious Babes; thank
God you are far removed from my misfortune, and can hardly fear to
be bereft of all.[354]
“I am, ever your Grace’s most affectionate
“E. M.”
[354] The duchess then had five children alive.
[Page heading: A BROTHER’S SYMPATHY]
Lady Andover wrote from Charlton, Wilts, “by Highworth Bag,” to condole
with her friend. In this letter she mentions that her friend, Lydia
Botham (Mrs. Laurence Sterne’s sister), had nearly died at the birth
of a daughter (Catherine), but was better. Matthew Robinson wrote and
implored his sister to accompany her husband to Newcastle. He says,
“Books and thought are the food of melancholy, and lovely places,
however beautiful, the dwellings of it, but a town entirely strange to
you, and new company, would bid fairest to dissipate your thoughts.” He
signs himself “Matthew Robinson Morris,” having adopted the latter, the
maiden name of his mother, as her heir to the Mount Morris and Monk’s
Horton estates. Mrs. Donnellan, writing from Bullstrode on September
24, mentions, “I have brought down a screen to work in snail for the
Duchess, and for my retired hours, Carte’s[355] History to read, for
Sir Paul Davis, who is a chief actor, was my great-grandfather.”
[355] The Rev. Thomas Carte, born 1686, died 1754. Chaplain to
Bishop Atterbury.
No further letters do I possess till October 23, when Mrs. Montagu
writes to the duchess and states Mr. Montagu had started riding to
London on particular business. He hated wheels, and always preferred
riding. Mrs. Montagu and Sarah had been prevailed on to visit Mrs.
Yorke at Richmond in his absence.
The great Duchess of Marlborough’s death, which had just occurred on
October 18, is commented on thus--
“How are the mighty fallen! Oh vanity of Human things! the Duchess
of Marlborough is now not worth a groat, nor does pride glow any
longer in old Granville’s heart. The old Countess[356] had reckoned
with pleasure the riches Mrs. Spencer[357] was to possess, and no
doubt pleased herself with the hopes of seeing it, little imagining
Clotho had twisted their line of life together.”
[356] The Countess of Granville, died October 27, 1744.
[357] Hon. John Spencer was grandson of the Duchess of Marlborough,
married to the daughter of the Countess of Granville.
[Page heading: A RAREE SHOW]
Whilst staying with Mrs. Yorke, Mrs. Montagu writes to the duchess--
“Your Grace may not think we have any publick diversions at
Richmond. I must assure you we went to a fine Raree Show.[358] An
orrery made up some part of it, and gave a dignity to the whole.
However it was an emblem of life, the first scene was all gay
figures and dogs and Ducks and Horses and Coaches, and every object
was new and striking: then came Mademoiselle Catherina with all the
airs of a celebrated toast, turned her head about with a measured
grace, smiled, curtseyed, and flirted her fan: when everyone had
enough of that, we went to study the world. We observed its motion,
saw the revolution of a few years, and while we rather admired
than understood its movements, were almost weary and yet loath to
retire, there was presented the figure of Time mowing us all down,
and so we made our Exit.”
[358] A show enclosed in a box.
Mrs. Montagu and Sarah set out on their journey to London, and a letter
to the duchess from Northampton, November 17, shows the state of the
roads then--
“I am here in a whole skin, thanks to the care of our coachman,
and the stuffing of our coach seats, but never was poor mortal so
jumbled, jolted and dragged through such roads. I never saw such
roads in my life as between Harborough and this place. We were
obliged to come a nameless pace that is slower than a walk. Mr.
Montagu is to meet us to-morrow, he expected our being at Newport
to-night, but we did not get to Northampton till after three
o’clock in the afternoon, though we got into the coach at seven in
the morning.”
In a letter of November 23 the duchess says, “I have read a sermon of
Swift’s upon the Trinity, which I like extremely, and wish you would
read it, and give me your opinion of it.”
[Page heading: DISEASE IN CATTLE]
At Bullstrode at this time were Lady Wallingford and Miss Granville. On
the same day Mrs. Robinson writes from Mount Morris and congratulates
her daughters on their safe arrival in Dover Street. She mentions the
cattle plague then beginning; thus--
“Our epidemical distemper is madness, which, thank God, has not yet
reached the human species, but reigns among horses, cows, hoggs,
shepp, and doggs; of the latter we have been one out of pocket, but
our new tenant has lost a cow, and has a ram uncommonly freakish,
which they suppose is going the same way, and J. Smith a hogg or
two, and the country people take so little care of their doggs when
they are bitt, as is very injurious to their neighbours. Ours was
a greyhound, which will prevent Mr. Robinson’s coursing till he
recruits his loss with another.”
Poor Mrs. Robinson, only three weeks after this letter, wrote to her
daughters to say she had a swelling in her breast, which had formed
some ten weeks back, and which she had hitherto concealed, and feared
was cancer. She wrote to Dr. Chesilden,[359] the famous surgeon, to
tell him, and he desired her to come to town.
[359] Dr. William Chesilden, born 1688, died 1752.
[Page heading: MRS. ROBINSON’S ILLNESS]
Mrs. Montagu writes on December 17 to the duchess in great distress--
“that it was a cancer, but that not sticking to the ribs, it may
be taken out without danger; he (Dr. Chesilden) has behaved to her
with great gentleness and care, and has made her very easy. She
bears her misfortune with great fortitude, she is neither afraid of
death or pain, but says she is contented to suffer what Providence
pleases to ordain.... She will not suffer us to be in the house
while the operation is performed. They assure us there is no danger
of her Life, but it is terrible to think of the pain she must
undergo.”
The operation was performed successfully, but must have been shocking
to bear, the use of anæsthetics not being then known. The two daughters
nursed their mother, and the affectionate Mrs. Donnellan assisted,
though herself in great trouble at the ill-health of her stepfather,
Mr. Perceval. On Christmas Day, Mrs. Montagu writes a good report to
the duchess, whose London porter, Elias, called daily to inquire. In
the letter mention is made of “Marshall Belleisle[360] being taken
prisoner, as he was going to the King of Prussia. His papers and
attendants all seized.”
[360] Duc de Belle-Isle, French Marshal; born 1684, died 1761.
Thus end the letters of 1744.