Fox's Debts--Lord Holland--News from London--Interview with Fox--The
Fire at Holland House--A Visit to Tunbridge--Provision for Mie Mie
--County business and electioneering at Gloucester--Lotteries--Fox
and Carlisle--Highway adventures--London Society--Newmarket
intelligence--An evening in town--Charles Fox and America--Carlisle
declines a Court post--Money from Fox--Selwyn and gambling--A
Private Bill Committee--Selwyn in bad spirits--The Royal Society
--Book-buying--Political affairs--London parks--Gainsborough--The
Duchess of Kingston--Selwyn's private affairs--"The Diaboliad"--A
dinner at the French Ambassador's--Politics and the Clubs--In Paris
--Electioneering again.
A distinguished man of letters of the present day has called Selwyn
the father confessor of the society of his time: it is a tribute to
his friendliness and good sense, as well as to his good nature and
patience. Without them he could never have been the trusted adviser
of Carlisle in those financial difficulties in which the young
peer's friendship for Charles Fox involved him. It was in 1773 that
the crash came in Fox's affairs. His gambling debts had been
accumulating. The birth of a son to his elder brother--closing, at
any rate for the time, Charles Fox's reversionary interests--caused
his creditors to press their claims. Lord Holland was obliged to
come to the assistance of his son. It is at this moment that the
correspondence which is gathered in the present chapter begins. Lord
Holland had raised a large sum with which to pay off his son's
debts. Selwyn was indignant because it seemed as if creditors less
indulgent than Carlisle would be the first to be paid. So in many
letters he presses upon Carlisle that he must not allow his
friendship for Charles Fox to outweigh the monetary claims which he
had upon him, and in no measured terms he condemns the carelessness
with which Fox regarded his financial obligations to his friend.
The correspondence contained in this chapter commences at the end of
the year 1773, after an apparent break of four years; there is no
doubt, however, that it continued and the letters from Selwyn have
not been preserved. The letters in 1773 begin by referring to the
financial matters to which brief allusion has just been made, and
which formed a subject so full of interest and anxiety for Selwyn.
He has time, however, to give his friend news of the political and
social events of London. The American question was becoming more and
more important, the Declaration of Independence had startled England
in 1776, and in 1774 Charles Fox had finally left the Administration
of Lord North, soon to become the leader of the Whig party and the
champion of the American Colonists.
(1773, Dec. 1)--This is the severest criticism which I have heard
passed upon you. In all other particulars be assured that you have
as much of the general esteem of the world as any man that ever came
into it, and will preserve the highest respect from it if you will
only from this time have such a consideration, and such a management
of your fortune, as common prudence requires. Charles has destroyed
his, and his reputation also, and I am very much afraid that, let
what will be done now, they will in a very few years be past all
kind of redemption. You will have been the innocent cause of much
censure upon him, because all the friendship in the world which you
can show him will never wipe off what he and his family at this
instant stands (sic) accused of, which is, setting at nought the
solemnest ties in the world and after the maddest dissipation of
money possible, the amassing for his sake 50,000 pounds to pay
everybody but those who deserved the first consideration, and
without which he could never [be] said to be free, and it would [be]
a constant reproach to be easy. When there was no idea but of his
having 20,000 advanced, which sum was otherwise to have been left
him, and I said that such and such persons would be paid first, you
did not seem to credit it. Was I right? or not? in my conjectures?
If I tell you now, that 16,000 pounds more than the present sum of
50,000 will come, I cannot pretend to say from what quarter, but I
mean from the Holland family; and, if I tell you also, that as much
more will be borrowed for purposes which do not now exist; I must
tell you that I think that these sums will be sent after the others,
if you do not strenuously oppose it, and if somebody does not watch
over the springs from whence these supplies are to flow.
As to Hare,(92) you will do me the justice to own that I have not
said a word to impeach his friendship to you. But I must set him
aside as a man capable of transacting this business. It is not de
son ressort, and I know that he has difficulties to combat with, if
he undertakes it, which are insuperable. Now, when I talk of men of
business, I will explain myself. I mean three for example: Mr.
Wallis, if ever you consult him, Mr. Gregg, and Lavie. I would also
seriously apply to my Lord Gower for his advice, and make him a
confidant in what relates to this business. He has very powerful
motives for interesting himself in it. All others I would silence at
once by saying that you had fixed upon particular persons to talk
with upon this subject, and that you would not listen an instant to
any other. After one or two attempts to discuss the point they would
give it up, and, knowing in what channel it was, would be more
afraid to trifle with you about it. Charles never opens his lips to
me upon the subject, and when Hare was last at my house he did not
say a single word relative to it. The bond was not so much as
mentioned. To speak the truth, I had rather that they would not, for
I should not be able to keep my temper if they did.
I have talked this matter over with persons of established
reputations in the world for good sense, knowledge, and experience,
and with as nice feelings in points of honour and friendship as
anybody ever had. It is their opinion which makes me so confident of
my own, exclusive of the arguments themselves, qui sautent aux yeux.
Now, as to the expedients. The capital sum,(93) let us call it,
15,000. Let Charles pay immediately 5,000 pounds from the 50,000
pounds. I will endeavour a year hence to raise you five more. Let
Charles and Lord Stavordale,(94) by their joint securities (and let
Lady Holland contribute hers), try to raise the other 5,000, and
then this debt is paid; and when the worst comes to the worst, you
will lose yourself only the 5,000, which we shall endeavour to get
from your own securities and resources. All this is very practicable
with people who are disposed to think of their honour more than of
the gratification of their own pleasure.
The Holland family went to Bath yesterday. I took my leave, and it
may be a final one, of them on Monday. Charles, it is said, will
follow them. What is become of Hare I know not. If you desire a
letter to be shown to Lord Holland,(95) Lady H. must shew it. I will
speak to you, as I promised, without reserve. I am apt to think that
he will comprehend what you say very well. It is not my judgment
only, but I have heard it said, that a great deal of his inattention
upon these occasions has been affected, and that if the same money
was to be received and not to be paid, our faculties would then
improve. I wish that if he has any left, he would exert them now for
the sake of the reputation of his family as well as of his own; or
he will add a load of obloquy to that which has been already
derived (?) upon him, on account of the means by which this
dissipated wealth has been acquired; and by this last act of
indifference to the honour of his son he will seem to justify all
that abuse with which he has been loaded, and they will be apt to
apply, what he does not certainly merit, but will nevertheless carry
an air of truth with it, and they will say that--
"Plundering both his country and his friends,
It's thus the Lord of useless thousands ends."
You see, my dear Lord, with how much confidence I treat you. I have
thought aloud, when I have been speaking to you, which perhaps I
ought not to have done, but I cannot help it. I hope that you will
burn my letters, for if they served as testimonies of the warmth of
my friendship to you, they might be ill interpreted by others. . . .
Charles you say has not wrote to you. There is no accounting for
that or for him but by one circumstance, and that is, that the
gratification of the present moment is the God of his Idolatry. You
mention his credit with Lord North.(96) I know for a certainty that
Lord North disavows that which I know he once gave him. "He will,"
they say, "manage this, and will settle that, with the Minister."
Stuff! The Minister, whoever he happens to be, will settle this
matter with Charles, and say, "Sir, I know you want me, and that I
do not want you, but in a certain degree. Speak, and be paid, as Sir
W. Young was." Alas, poor Charles! Aha promissa dederat. You say
that you have not had a line from Lady H(olland); have you then
wrote to her? I will add more to this if I see occasion, after I
have been to talk with Lavie, who really means, I believe, to serve
you with great fidelity, and reasons about this matter with great
nettete and percision.
(92) James Hare (1749-1804); son of Richard Hare, apothecary, of
Limestone; grandson of Bishop Francis Hare; at Eton with Fox and
Carlisle, and afterwards entered Balliol College, Oxford. As a young
man he was considered more brilliant than Fox, and more was expected
of his future. He sat for Stockbridge from 1772-1774, and for
Knaresborough from 1781 to his death. Like all of the fashionable
men of his day, he played heavily. In 1779 he had become deeply
involved in debt, but obtained the post of Minister Plenipotentiary
to Poland, which he held until 1782; in 1802 he was very ill at
Paris, where Fox made him frequent visits. He died at Bath. Lady
Ossory described his wit as "perhaps of a more lively kind than
Selwyn's." Storer left him a legacy of 1,000 pounds.
(93) Fox's debt to Carlisle.
(94) Henry Thomas, afterwards second Earl of Ilchester (1747-1802);
the cousin and companion of Fox, and as great a gambler. "Lord
Stavordale, not one-and-twenty, lost eleven thousand last Tuesday,
but recovered by one great hand at hazard."
(95) Lord Holland had amassed a large fortune when Paymaster-General,
and on this account his unpopularity was so great as to amount to
public detestation.
(96) Frederick North, second Earl of Guildford, known in history as
Lord North (1732-1792); Chancellor of the Exchequer, 1767; First
Lord of the Treasury, 1770 to 1782; Secretary of State, 1783 (March
to December); succeeded to Earldom of Guildford, 1790.
(1774,) January 18, Tuesday, Chesterfield Street.--I received
yesterday your extreme kind letter, while I was at Lord Gower's at
dinner; which dinner, by the way, or the supplement to it, lasted so
long, that I have increased my cough by it greatly, and am so unable
to go this morning to Court, that I think now of putting on my
clothes in the evening only, and so going, as I did last year, to
the King's side, to make her Majesty my bow as she passes from that
apartment to the ball-room. We had yesterday at dinner Dick Vernon
and Keith Stewart only, besides Lord Gower's family.
I was going home to dine by myself tres sagement et tres
tranquillement, dans le dessein de me menager, when Lord G. was so
good as to propose my going home with him; and thinking that to be
an opportunity of talking more with him upon you and your affairs,
as we did, I could not resist it. I do assure you, my dear Lord, it
is a great pleasure to me to see the zeal with which he speaks of
you, and your interests, which is not, to be sure, surprising,
considering your connection, but it makes me happy that my former
intimacy with him begins to revive, which it has gradually done,
from the time that you have belonged to him.
Miss Pelham(97) came to Lady Gower after dinner, and I think intends
to go to-day to the Birthday, but such a hag you have no conception
of; and a patch which she is obliged to wear upon the lower eyelid,
improves the horror of her appearance. She will kill herself, I make
no doubt.
The letter which you have been so good to enclose for my
satisfaction, from Lady Holl(an)d to you, does not much elate me, I
own; it is just that of one who is obliged to say a great deal, and
finds an inconvenience in doing anything; and as to Charles's
writing to you, you know best how these promises have been
fulfilled. If I could direct her Ladyship's good disposition, I
should make her show your letter to her to Lord Holl(an)d; I am
persuaded that his faculties are not so entirely lost as not to
discern with how much force of reason, propriety, and good nature it
is wrote. What he would do in consequence of it, I cannot be quite
so sure. Then he might, perhaps, relapse into a state of imbecility,
or affected anility, which might deprive you of the advantage which
you should expect from it.
Among other things which passed between Lord Gower and me upon the
subject of Charles, to which our conversation, by the way, was not
confined, I told him that your people of business had proposed that
you should sue Charles for the Annuities, and how that advice seemed
to shock you. He was not surprised at that, knowing your delicacy
and friendship. But sueing Charles, you will find in a short time,
has no horror but in the expression. If you are shocked, you will be
singly so; Charles will not be so, it is my firm belief. As soon as
Lavie comes to you, he will tell you how far Mr. Crewe has embraced
that idea, and what has been the consequence of it. If you will sue
Lord H(ollan)d and Mr. Powell, or (for?) them, in Charles's name,
you will do your business. But I do not say that it is time for
that.
What I proposed to Lord Gower was only this, and that cannot have
nothing (sic) rebutant in it, to either Charles or you. It is this.
To hear Charles's story patiently, but to answer or reason with him
as little as possible. To desire that he would be so good as to meet
you at your own house, with Mr. Wallis and Mr. Gregg; we will have
nothing to do with Lavie, pour le moment. Il ne respectera pas
celui-ci comme les deux autres. Discuss with them before Charles the
means of extricating yourself from these engagements. Let him hear
what they say, and what they would advise you to do, as guardian to
your children; for there is the point de vue, in which I am touched
the most sensibly; and whatever Charles has to offer by way of
expedient, by way of correcting their ideas, whatever hopes he can
give, which are rationally founded, let him lay them before these
people in your presence.
Why I wish this is, the [that] he must then have something to combat
with, and that is, truth and reason. Without that, and you two
together only, or Hare, what will follow? There will be flux de
bouche, which to me is totally incomprehensible, as Sir G.
M('Cartney) told me that it was to him. Il fondera en larmes, and
then you will be told afterwards, whenever a measure of any vigour
is proposed, that you had acquiesced, because you had been disarmed,
confounded. This happened no longer ago than last Saturday, with
Foley,(98) who related the whole conference to me, and the manner in
which it was carried on. "However," says Foley, "I carried two
points out of four, but I was obliged to leave him, not being able
[to] resist the force of sensibility."
I confess that, had it been my case, I should have been tempted to
have made use of Me de Maintenon's words to the Princesse de Conti--
"Pleurez, pleurez, Madame, car c'est un grand malheur que de n'avoir
pas le coeur bon." I do not think that of Charles so much as the
rest of the world does, and to which he has undoubtedly given some
reason by his behaviour to his father, and to his friends. I
attribute it all to a vanity that has, by the foolish admiration of
his acquaintance, been worked up into a kind of phrensy, I shall be
very unwilling to believe that he ever intended to distress a friend
whom he loved as much as I believe that he has done you.
But really this is being very candid to him, and yet I cannot help
it. For I have passed two evenings with him at supper at Almack's,
ou nous avons ete lie en conversation, and never was anybody more
agreeable and the more so for his having no pretensions to it, which
is what has offended more people than even what Lady H(ollan)d is so
good as to call his misconduct. I do assure you, my dear Lord, that
notwithstanding all that I have been obliged by my friendship and
confidence in you to say, I very sincerely love him, although I
blame him so much, that I dare not own it; and it will give me the
greatest pleasure in the world to see him take that turn which he
professes to take. But what hopes can we have of it?
Vernon said yesterday after dinner, that he and some others--Bully,
I think, among the rest--had been driven by the rain up into
Charles's room; and when they had lugged him out of his bed, they
attacked him so violently upon what he did at the Bath, that he was
obliged to have recourse, as he did last year, to an absolute denial
of the fact. The imagination of the blacklegs at the Billiard Table
that he was gone over to Long Leate to borrow the money of Lord
W(eymouth?) had in it something truly ridiculous, and serves only to
shew that his Lordship had been never trusted by them.
Gregg dines to-day at Lavie's; I shall go down to meet him there,
and perhaps order my chicken over from Almack's, that I may converse
more en detail with Gregg upon this business of the Annuities. I
like his conversation the best, I own, because I see less resentment
in it. He speaks to the matters of fact, and not to the characters
of the actors, which now is losing of time. God knows how well, and
how universally, all that is established.
The women in town have found this a good morsel for their invective
disposition, and the terms in which they express themselves tiennent
de la frenesie, et de l'entousiasme. Lady Albemarle, who is not a
wise woman, certainly, was at Lady Gower's the other evening, and
was regretting only that Charles had not been consumed in the Fire,
instead of the linnets. I am glad it was no worse. I think your
fears about the rebuilding of the House are not so well founded as
your satisfaction might be, that you had not been drawn in to insure
it. I think that you are more obliged to what he thinks upon that
subject (for he said that he did not believe in fire) than to your
own prudence. I am in daily expectation of the arrival of these late
sufferers at Holl[an]d H(ouse). I wish them all arrived there, I
own, and that they may stay there, and that there may be no real
sufferers by the fire, which there would be if any workmen had begun
to rebuild the House. That would be a case of true compassion.
You desire me to tell you something of Hare and Storer,(99) &c.
Storer, the Bon ton, is still at Lord Craven's. I supped with the
Mauvais ton at Harry St. John's last night. I do not dislike him: he
does not seem to be at all deficient in understanding, and has
besides de la bonne plaisanterie. Hare is in town, and, if I was to
credit his own insinuations, upon the point of bringing his affair
to a conclusion. But I think that he prepares the world too much for
some change in his condition, for he drives about in an old chariot
of Foley's,(100) as I am told, with a servant of his own in livery;
and this occasions so much speculation, that his great secret diu
celari non potest. I would advise him to conclude as soon as he can
this business; sans cela la machine sera d'erangee; elle ne peut
aller jusques au printemps, cela est sur.
The Duke of Buccleugh has said nothing to us as yet about our
anniversary dinner, but I hope that so good a custom will not be
laid aside. If it is, Richard must take it up, as it is his
birthday, and so I shall tell him. I have myself, by all which I
have said upon the history and fate of that unfortunate Prince,
excused myself from giving any sort of fete at my own house; but I
do not carry my rigour so far, as not to accept one on that day at
the house of another person. Voila le point ou ma devotion se prete
un feu. Your letter to Lord Grantham shall be sent to the
Secretary's Office this evening, and some compliments from me at the
same time. I wish that he was here, that I might talk with [him] for
half an hour upon your subject.
(97) Sister of Henry Pelham, niece of Duke of Newcastle (1728-1804).
died at her estate at Esher, in Surrey, leaving a large fortune.
(98) Thomas Foley, second baron (1742-1793). He was noted for his
sporting proclivities; Fox was his racing partner, and the money
they lost, which included a hundred thousand pounds for Lord Foley,
and its replenishing, was a never-ending source of gossip.
(99) Anthony Morris Storer (1746-1799), called the Bon ton, and Lord
Carlisle, were termed the Pylades and Orestes of Eton, and the
intimacy was continued in later life; M.P. for Carlisle
1774-80, and for Morpeth, together with Peter Delime, 1780-4. In
1781 he succeeded in obtaining the appointment as one of the
Commissioners for Trade, in which Selwyn and Carlisle had so deeply
interested themselves. He was with Carlisle on his mission to
America in 1778 and 1779. During their political connection he acted
as a medium between Fox and North, in whose family he was intimate.
Fox made him Secretary of Legation at Paris in 1783--Gibbon
competing for the office, and when the Duke of Manchester was called
home he was nominated as Minister Plenipotentiary; six days later,
however, his friends were no longer in power. It was in this year
that his long friendship with Carlisle was broken; he did not stand
for re-election for Morpeth and revoked the bequest of all his
property which he had made to him. Storer never married. He was
universally admired for his versatility and his proficiency in all
he undertook; he excelled in conversation, music, and literary
attainments; he was the best skater, the best dancer of his time. He
began his valuable and curious collection of books and prints in
1781. On these and card-playing he spent more money than he could
afford, but in 1793, at his father's death, he received an ample
fortune. He then occupied himself building and adorning a property,
Purley, near Reading. He left his library and prints to Eton
College, which also possesses his portrait.
(100) See note (98).
1774, July 23, Chesterfield Street.--I received yesterday a reprieve
from Gloucester, and Harris's sanction for my staying here a week
longer; so that the meeting, and the report of Mr. Guise and Mr.
Burrow's declaring themselves both as candidates upon separate
interests, but secretly assisting one another, were, as Richard the
3rd calls it, a weak device of the enemy. I found myself greatly
relieved, and sat down and wrote a letter to the Mayor and
Corporation, which I may cite as a modele de vrai persiflage. I
went and dined with Lord Ferrars and Lady Townshend;(101) she has
received all her arrears, so we have now the pleasure of continuing
our hostilities les pieds chauds.
Poor Lord Thomond died the evening before last of an apoplexy, with
which he was seized the night before. I thought, as well as himself,
that he was very near his end, and imagined that it would be this.
But the news struck me, for not an hour before he was taken ill he
passed by March's door as he was going to take an airing in Hyde
Park, with Clever in the chariot. I was sitting upon the steps, with
the little girl(103) on my lap, which diverted him, and he made me a
very pleasant bow, and that was my last view of him. I had had an
acquaintance with him of above thirty years, but for some time past
I had seen him only occasionally. He was a sensible honest man, and
when he was in spirits, and with his intimate friends, I think a
very agreeable companion, but had too much reserve to make a
friendship with, and not altogether the character that suits me.
White's begins to crumble away very fast, and would be a melancholy
scene to those who remained if they cared for any one person but
themselves. Williams gave a dinner to talk him over, which I suppose
was done with the voix larmoyante, et voila tout. Lord Monson a
creve aussi, and Tommy Alston, who has left a will in favour of his
bastards, which will occasion lawsuits.
I have made an agreement to meet Varcy to-morrow at Knowles; from
thence we go to Tunbridge; so I shall live on Monday on the
Pantiles, and on Tuesday return here. I dine to-day with the Essex's
at March's; we supped last night at Lady Harrington's, the
consequence of which is to eat a turtle on Tuesday at an alehouse on
the Ranelaugh Road, which she has seized from Lord Barrington. I
called at Lady Mary's first, and found her tres triste.
Lady Holland was thought to be dying yesterday, for Lord Beauchamp
was to have dined there, and at three o'clock a note came from
Ste(104) to desire him not to come. The late Lord Holland's
servants, preserving their friendship for my thief whom I dismissed,
were so good, when their Lord died, to send for him to sit up with
the corpse, as the only piece of preferment which was then vacant in
the family. But they afterwards promoted him to be outrider to the
hearse. Alice told me of it, and said that it was a comfort and
little relief to the poor man for the present; and Mr. More, the
attorney, to whom I mentioned it, said that they intended to throw
him into the same thing--that was the phrase--when Lady Holland
died. I beg you to reflect on these circumstances; they are dignes
de Moliere et Le Sage. How my poor old friend would have laughed, if
he could have known to what hands he was committed before his
interment!
The night before last Meynell lost between 2 and 3,000; what the
rest did I don't know. They abuse both you and me about the
tie,(105) and Hare says, it was the damned[e]st thing to do at this
time in the world. I told them, as Lord Cowper said in his speech to
the Condemned Lords in the year 16--, "Happy had it been for all
your Lordships had you lain under so indulgent a restraint." It is
difficult for me to say which was the kindest thing you ever did by
me, but I am sure that this was one of the wisest which I ever did
by myself; and so remember that I do by this renew the lease for one
month more, and it shall be as if it had been originally for two
months instead of one. To this I subscribe, and to the same forfeit
on my side. I received a consideration ample enough if the lease had
been for a year.
(102) Anne, daughter of Sir William Montgomery, and second wife of
George, first Viscount Townshend.
(103) Maria Fagniani, Selwyn's adopted daughter. This is the first
mention of her in this correspondence.
(104) Stephen Fox, second Baron Holland.
(105) A self-mposed restriction on gambling. The ingenious and
rather childish character of this pledge is described in a letter of
December 1775.
1774, July 26, Tuesday night? Almack's.--Lady Holland, as you
will see by the papers, died on Sunday morning between 7 and 8. I
saw Lady Louisa and Mrs. Meillor coming in Lady Louisa's chariot
between 10 and 11, which announced to me the close of that
melancholy history; I mean, as far as regards my two very old
friends. The loss of the latter, I must own, I feel much the more
sensibly of the two; serrer les files, comme Von dit a Varnee, n'est
pas assez; la perte ne laissera pas de reparoitre, in that I had
counted upon a resource in the one more than in the other.
I went for a minute to see Ste(106) and Lady Mary, and then I set
out for the Duke of Dorset's at Knowles (Knowle Park), where I met
Varcy, and where I dined; and after dinner Varcy and I went to
Tunbridge. We saw Penthurst (sic) yesterday morning, and dined with
his Honour Brudenell, who gave us, that is, Varcy, Mr. and Mrs.
Meynell, and Sir J. Seabright, an excellent dinner. We were at a
private ball at night, and this morning early I set out for London.
Tunbridge is, in my opinion, for a little time in the summer, with a
family, and for people who do not find a great deal of occupation at
their country houses, one of the prettiest places in the world. The
houses are so many bijouzs made up for the occasion, so near the
place, so agreste, and the whole an air of such simplicity, that I
am delighted with it, as much as when my amusements were, as they
were formerly, at the Rooms and upon the Pantiles, which are now to
me detestable.
I was pressed much to stay there to-day to dine with Meynell upon a
haunch of venison, but I had solemnly engaged myself to Lady
Harrington, and to her party at Spring Garden, on the road to
Ranelagh. We had a very good turtle. Our company were, Lord and Lady
Harrington, Lady Harriot,(107) Lady A., Maria Ord, Mrs. Boothby,
Richard(108) from his quarters at Hampton Court, Crags, Lord
Barrington, Barker, Langlois, and myself.
March went yesterday to Newmarket, and left a letter behind for me,
to excuse him to the party; he returns on Thursday. Here is not one
single soul in this house, but I came here to write to you plus a
mon aise. Lady Mary Howard was at Tunbridge, and asked much after
you; Lady Powis, the Duke of Leeds, hardly anybody besides that I
knew. Gen. Smith came there yesterday, and I believe was in hopes of
making up a hazard table; at last Lord Killy (Kelly?) said that I
might have one if I pleased.
Charles and Ste, &c., are gone for the present to Red Rice. I was in
hopes of seeing Storer to-day, but this damned turtle party has kept
me so late that I doubt if I shall see him to-night. I met him on
the road, as I was going to Knowles, on his return from Tunbridge,
and he then told me that he should set out for Castle Howard
to-morrow, and would have set out to-day, but that I begged that I
might see him first.
They can find no will of Lord Thomond's as yet; so his poor nephew
will by his procrastination be the loser of a considerable estate;
for he certainly intended to have made him his heir, and the
attorney had left with him a will to be filled up. But we are never
sure of doing anything but what we have but one minute for doing;
what we think we may do any day, we put off so many days that we do
not do it all.
This reflection, and the experience which I have had in other
families of the consequences of these delays, determined me to lose
no time in settling, for my dear Mie Mie, that which may be the only
thing done for her, and only because we-may do it any day in the
week. But I thank God I've secured, as much as anything of that
nature can be secured, what will be, I hope, a very comfortable
resource for her. I am egregiously deceived if it will not. As for
other things,' I must hope for the best. It makes me very serious
when I think of it, because my affection and anxiety about her are
beyond conception.
I shall not think of setting out for Gloucester, unless there is
some new occurrence, till next week. I have had no fresh alarm. The
lawyers are going on furiously and sanguinely against the Duchess of
Kingston,(109) who is, they say, at Calais. Feilding also complains
of her; so elle s'est bromllee avec la justice au pied de la lettre.
Nobody doubts of her felony; the only debate in conversation is,
whether she can have the benefit of her clergy. Some think she will
turn Papist. All expect some untimely death. C'est un execrable
personage que celui que (sic) fait mon voisin.
James has cut out work enough for himself in Hertfordshire; il s'en
repentira, ou je me trompe fort. Adieu; my best compliments to Lady
Carlisle and Lady Julia, and my love to the little ones. I long to
see the boy excessively. I hear of your returning to London in
September; pray let me hear your motions very particularly, and if
you bring up the children. I am ever most truly and affectionately
yours.
(106) Second Lord Holland.
(107) Lady Henrietta Stanhope, daughter of second Earl of
Harrington. She married Lord Foley in 1776, and died 1781.
(108) Fitzpatrick in this correspondence is usually spoken of as
Richard.
(109) Elizabeth Chudleigh, Duchess of Kingston (1720-1788). The celebrated
public trial of the Duchess of Kingston for bigamy took place in
Westminster Hall, April, 1776. It was proved that she had privately
married Augustus, second son of Lord Hervey, but the marriage was
not owned. She lived publicly with the Duke of Kingston and finally
married him during Mr. Hervey's life, but at the death of the Duke,
who left her all his disposable property, proceedings were
instituted against her and she was found guilty. She afterwards went
to St. Petersburg, where she gave an entertainment for the Empress
Catherine said to be more splendid than had ever been seen in
Russia. She bought an estate near St. Petersburg, calling it by her
maiden name of Chudleigh, where she intended to manufacture brandy,
but found herself so coldly treated by the English ambassador and
Russian nobility that she removed to France, where she became
involved in a lawsuit regarding the purchase of Another estate. The
chagrin at loss of the case caused her death.
[1774,] July 30, Saturday night, Almack's.--I write my letter from
hence, from the habitude of making this place my bureau, not that
there is anybody here, or that there was the least probability of my
finding anybody here. The last post night I was obliged to have an
amanuensis, as you will know to-morrow morning when the post comes
in. I had got a small particle of shining sand in my eye that during
the whole day, but particularly at night, gave me most exquisite
pain, and prevented me from writing to you, which, next to receiving
your letters, is one of my great pleasures. So this was un grand
evenement pour moi, par une petite cause. While the writer was
writing, Hare came in, and he said that he would finish the letter
for me, but what they both wrote God knows.
Storer I suppose set out yesterday for Castle H(oward), and I take
for granted will be with you before this letter. March has been out
of town ever since Monday till to-day. He has been at a Mr. Darell's
in Cambridgeshire, who has a wife I believe with a black eye and low
forward [forehead]. I guessed as much by his stay, and young Thomas
who came up with him to town told me it was so.
I supped last night at Lady Hertford's with the two Fitzroys, Miss
Floyd, and Lord F. Cavendish;(110) and to-day, Lady Hertford, Miss
Floyd, and Lord Frederick and I dined at Colonel Kane's, who is
settled in the Stable Yard, and in a damned good house, plate,
windows cut down to the floor, elbowing his Majesty with an enormous
bow window. The dog is monstrously well nipped; he obtrudes his
civilities upon me, malgre que j'en ai, and will in time force me
not to abuse him. He would help me to-day to some venison, and how
he contrived it, I don't know, but for want of the Graces he cut one
of my fingers to the bone, that I might as well have dined at a
cut-fingered ordinary.
I am diverted with your threats that I shall have short letters,
because you are plagued with Northumberland disputes. You say that
you have every post letters to write, and so you will have them to
write for some time, for the Devil take me if I believe that you
have wrote or will write one of them. A good ronfle for that, an't
please your Honour, with about twenty sheets of paper spread about
upon the table, and on each of them the beginning of a letter.
You know me very well also in thinking that my heart fails me as the
time of my going to Gloucester approaches. I made a very stout
resistance a fortnight ago, notwithstanding Harris's importunate
summons, and now he plainly confesses in a letter which I received
from him to-day, that my coming down upon that pretended meeting
would have been nugatory, as he calls it. The Devil take them; I
have wished him and his Corporation in Newgate a thousand times. But
there will be no trifling after the end of this next week. The
Assizes begin on Monday sevennight. Then the Judges will be met, a
terrible show, for I shall be obliged to dine with them, and be in
more danger from their infernal cooks than any of the criminals who
are to be tried, excepting those who will be so unfortunate as to
have our jurisconsult for their advocate.
I would not advise you to be unhappy about Caroline's(111) want of
erudition; a very little science will do at present, and much cannot
be poured into the neck of so small a vessel at once. I agree with
you that it is not to be wished that she should be a savante, and
she will know what others know. I have no doubt there is time enough
for her to read, and little Morpeth(112) to walk.
There is, I grant you, more reason to fear for Hare. Boothby(113)
assures me that as yet no prejudice has been done to his fortune. I
have my doubts of that, but am clear that he runs constant risk of
being very uneasy. But there is no talking to him; he has imbibed so
much of Charles's ton of qu'importe, que cela peut mener a
l'hopital.
Lady Holland(114) will be removed on Monday, and my thief one of her
outriders. All Lord Holland's servants, since he had that house at
Kingsgate, have been professed smugglers, and John, as I am
informed, was employed in vending for them some of their contraband
goods, for which he was to be allowed a profit. He sold the goods,
and never accounted with his principals for a farthing; and so now
they place him to sit up with the corps[e] of the family, and to act
as one of their undertakers, that they may be in part reimbursed.
This is the dessous des cartes, qui est veritablement comique, et
singulier. Ste, &c., will be here about the end of the week.
I hear that the night that Charles sat up at White's, which was that
preceding the night of Lady Holland's death, he planned out a kind
of itinerant trade, which was going from horse race to horse race,
and so, by knowing the value and speed of all the horses in England,
to acquire a certain fortune.
I learned from Bore to-day, that Sir G. M'Cartney is a debtor to the
family as well as myself, and his debt is to the amount of five
thousand pounds, which I am afraid he will find it difficult to
raise.
Blaquiere and George Howard are to have two Red Ribbands on
Wednesday. There is no end to the honours of your family. I have
entrusted Lady Carlisle's picture, I mean your grandmother's, to
Linnell, to be framed and cleaned, and then it will be sent to
Castle Howard. March I hear goes to Huntingdon next Tuesday.
I think that I shall set out on Thursday next, or if my heart fails
me, not till Saturday. I shall then be time enough to meet these
Judges, who do not begin to poison and hang till Monday. Lady Mary
has promised to make me a present of the little antique ring which
you gave to Lord Holland.
Did I tell you that I saw Lord Ilchester?(115) He shewed me a letter
which he had received from Ste on his mother's death, and some
trifling things which had belonged to Lord H(olland). Lord Ilchester
was extremely pleased with this mark of his affection, and indeed
the letter was a very kind and well-bred letter as any I ever read.
I find Lord Thomond most excessively blamed in having neglected to
make his will, so that he has died at last en mauvaise odeur with
his White's friends. I cannot but think, as he was so remarkably
methodical, that he intended, by making no will, that the estate
should go where the law directs, especially as the second son of his
brother has besides so ample a fortune.
Williams has been giving a different account of the public money
left in Lord Holland's hands from any which I ever before heard. He,
Walters, Offley, and March dined at White's. I called in there after
dinner. Williams said that a calculation is made of what the
interest of that money will amount to from this time to the
settlement of the account; and that it is to be made capital, and is
part of what is due to the public. I protest I don't understand him,
nor do I conceive what the residue of the personal estate will
amount to; but not to much, as the opinion of the family is. The
reports, and belief of those who are not in the secret, are out of
all credibility.
Lady Holland's second will, or codicil, will not be opened till the
family returns to town. Everybody is inquisitive to know if you and
Foley are safe. Il est merveilleux l'interet que tout le monde prend
a tout ceci, aussi bien qu'au manage de notre Prince, dont je ne
saurois pour dire des nouvelles. Meynell, Panton, and James are in
Hertfordshire, and the highty-tighty man at Port Hill in the damnest
(sic) fright in the world about the small-pox. I hope the poor devil
will get over it.
Adieu, my dear lord. If I was prevented from writing by last post,
cette fois-ci je m'en suis bein venge. . . .
I see your porter every morning in the grove, as he returns from
Islington, where he is drinking the waters; he looks a little
better, but not much. They have lent him a horse to ride there, and
he says that he finds the air where he is to agree better with him
than that of the country.
Pray tell Shepardson that I ask after her, and my compliments to Mr.
Willoughby, if you see him. I have demonstrated to Sir G. Metham
that I [am] originally a Yorkshire man, and that my name is
Salveyne; and he says that the best Yorkshire blood does at this
time run through my veins, and so I hope it will for some time
before the circulation of it is stopped.
(110) A distinguished soldier, afterwards Field-Marshal (1738-1803).
(111) Eldest daughter of the Earl of Carlisle; married, 1789, John
Campbell, who was created first Lord Cawdor; she died 1848.
(112) George, Lord Morpeth, afterwards sixth Earl of Carlisle
(1773-1848). In this correspondence Selwyn often refers to him as
George. Selwyn had a strong affection for him, and treated him with
sympathy and tact.
(113) Sir Brooke Boothby (1743-1824). One of the fashionable young
men of the period. He devoted himself particularly, however, to
literary society, and published verses, and political and classical
works. He lived for a time in France, and was a friend of Rousseau.
(114) Lady Holland died on July 24th.
(115) Stephen Fox, first Earl of Ilchester (1704-1776), the elder
brother of Henry, first Lord Holland.
The duties of a country gentleman and a Member of Parliament, the
boredom of a visit to a constituency could not always be avoided by
Selwyn. Thus the two following letters are written from
Gloucestershire.
(1774,) Aug. 9, Tuesday, Gloucester.--I set out from London on
Saturday last, as intended, and came to Matson the next day to
dinner. I found our learned Counsel in my garden; he dined with me,
and lay at my house, and the next morning he came with me in my
chaise to this place for the Assizes. I have seen little of him
since, being chiefly in the Grand Jury chamber, but I take it for
granted that till this morning that he set out for London his hands
were full of business, and the two men condemned were his clients,
who were condemned only par provision till he had drawn up the case.
This town has been very full of the neighbouring gentlemen, and I
suppose the approaching elections have been the cause of it. I am
not personally menaced with any opposition, but have a great dread
of one, because the contentions among those who live in the country
and have nothing else to do but to quarrel, are so great, that
without intending to hurt me, they will stir up trouble and
opposition, which will be both hazardous and expensive. I am
tormented to take a part in I know not what, and with I know not
whom, and my difficulty is to keep off the solicitation of my
friends, as they call themselves, who want a bustle, the expense of
which is not to be defrayed by themselves.
I do assure you that it is a monstrous oppression of spirits which I
feel, and which I would not feel for an hour if I had nobody's
happiness to think of but my own, which would be much more secured
by a total renunciation of Parliament, Ministers, and Boroughs than
by pursuing the emoluments attached to those connections. However,
as it is the last time that I shall ever have anything to do of this
kind, I will endeavour to keep up my spirits as well as I can; but I
must declare to you that it is an undertaking that is most grievous
to me, that I am ashamed of, and that neither the established
custom of the country [n]or the nature of our Government does by any
means reconcile to me.
I have dinners of one sort or other till Tuesday, and then I purpose
to set out for London, unless some unforeseen event prevents me.
Horry Walpole has a project of coming into this part of the world
the end of this week, and, if he does, of coming to me on Saturday.
I shall be glad to converse with anybody whose ideas are more
intelligible than those of the persons I am now with. But I do not
depend much upon seeing him.
The weather is very fine, and Matson in as great beauty as a place
can be in, but the beauties of it make very little impression upon
me. In short, there is nothing in this eccentric situation in which
I am now that can afford me the least pleasure, and everything I
love to see in the world is at a distance from me. All I do is so
par maniere d'acquit, et de si mauvaise grace, that I am surprised
at the civility with which I am treated.
I am in daily hopes of hearing from you. I am sorry that the
children are to be left behind; that is, that their health, which is
a valuable consideration, makes it prudential. I shall be happy when
I see them again, but it is not in my power to fix the time any more
than the means of my happiness. . . .
Storer has little to do than to sing, Se caro sei, and to write to
me, and therefore pray make him write. Richard the Third is to be
acted here to-night. I will go and see an act of it, pour me
desennuyer.
(1774,) Aug. 13, Saturday, Matson.--As you are one of the first
persons who occupies my thoughts when I awake, so it shall be a rule
with me hereafter, when I am to write to you, to make that my first
business, and not defer, as I have these two last posts, writing
till the evening, when it is more probable, at least in this place,
to suffer some interruption. This looks like an apology for what I
am sure needs none; it requires much more, that I seem to have
established it as a rule to trouble you so often. I have not here
the shallow pretence of telling you some little occurrence[s] which
can hardly be interesting in the Parish of St. James's, but when
they are confined to this spot. I can have no reason for pestering
you with them, but par un esprit de bavardise, ou pour me rappeler
plus souvent a votre souvenir; ce que votre amitie a rendu pour moi
tres inutile.
I have this whole week been immersed in all the provincial business
of a justice, a juryman, and a candidate; and yesterday was forced
to open my trenches before the town as one who intended to humbug
them for one seven years more.
J'ignore le destin qui le ciel me prepare,
Mais il est temps enfin qu' larbe se declare.
I entertained the whole Corporation (of the City of Gloucester)
yesterday at dinner, and afterwards made them a speech, which I am
glad that nobody heard but themselves. However i'ai reussi, I do not
mean in point of eloquence, but I carried my point; and if it was
possible to judge from the event of one meeting only, I should think
that there would be a peaceable election, and the expense not exceed
many hundred pounds, and those given chiefly to the service of the
city. But if [I] did not make my escape, and parry off all the
proposals made to me by the people whose whole employment is to
create disturbance, I should soon be drawn into a contest from which
I should not escape but at the expense of thousands.
At night I heard that Mr. Walpole is here; I was then at Gloucester;
so I hurried home, and have now some person to converse with who
speaks my own language. He came yesterday from Lady Ailesbury's, and
stays with me till Tuesday, and then I hope we shall return to
London together. I am to have the satisfaction of another festival
on Monday, on which day Mr. Walpole proposes to go and see Berkley
and Thornbury Castles.
I have had the advantage of very fine weather, and should have had
all the benefit of it if I was in any place but where my mind has so
many disagreeable occupations, and my stomach so many things which
it cannot digest. But it is chiefly their liquors, which are like so
much gin. The civility which they shew me, I may say indeed the
friendship which I have from some of these people, make me very
sorry that I cannot prevail on myself to stay a little longer with
them; but in regard to that, I can hardly save appearances, either
by staying, or by forbearing while I do stay to shew them what a
pain it is to me.
Your friend Mr. Howard, who is to be Duke of Norfolk, and who by his
wife is in possession of a great estate in my neighbourhood, takes
so much pains to recommend himself to my Corporation that we are at
a loss to know the source of his generosity. I have no personal
acquaintance with him, but as a member of the Corporation have a
permission to send for what venison we want. He has some charming
ruins of an abbey within a mile from hence, with which I intend to
entertain Mr. Walpole, and if that is not enough, I must throw in
the mazures of this old building, which, I believe, will not hold
out this century.
Horry tells me that a scheme has been formed, of replacing Charles,
but that Lord North will not hear of it. I should certainly myself
have the same repugnance. But as I love Charles more than I do the
other, I wish that, or anything which can put him once more in a way
of establishment. I shall however not have any hopes of that, till
he is less intoxicated than he is with the all sufficiency, as he
imagines, of his parts. I think that, and his infinite contempt of
the qu'en dira-t-on, upon every point which governs the rest of
mankind, are the two and (sic) chief sources of all his misfortunes.
Ste, they tell me, has come to a resolution of selling Holland
H(ouse) as soon as possible, and of rebuilding Winterslow. If Lady
Holland had not died just as she did, I believe that I should have
had him and Lady Mary here for some days, which I should have liked
very well.
I have got a prize in Barbot's Lottery, as it may be Conty has told
you. I left a man in London, when I came away, with a commission to
see that justice was done me, and to send my pye, if I should have
one, into Kent. Mine is a quatre perdrises (sic); so I have no
reason to complain of Conty's Lotteries, for I have had a prize in
both of them.
If you intend to buy a ticket in the State Lottery, I should be glad
to have a share of it with Lady C(arlisle), Lord Morpeth, and little
Caroline, that is, one ticket between us five. Three of my tenants
joined for one in the Lottery two or three years since, and they got
a 20,000 pound prize. I made a visit to one of them the other day,
whose farm is not far off, and he had made it the prettiest in the
world; and he has three children to share his 10,000, for one moiety
of this ticket was his.
Pray make my very best compliments to Lady C. and Lady J.,(116) and
give my hearty love to Caroline; and as for the little Marmot, tell
him that if he treats his sister with great attention I shall love
him excessively, but s'il fait le fier, because he is a Viscount and
a Howard, I shall give him several spanks upon his dernere. Make
Storer write to me, and make Ekins read Atterbury till he can say
him by heart.
(116) Lady Juliana Howard was Lord Carlisle's youngest sister. She
died unmarried.
By the end of August, Selwyn had escaped from Gloucester and was
again among his friends and in his favourite haunts in London.
[1774,] Aug. 25, Thursday night, Almack's.--Here are the Duke of
Roxb[urgh], Vernon, James, and Sir W. Draper at Whist; Boothby,
Richard, and R. Fletcher at Quinze. I dined to-day at the Duke of
Argyle's(117) at a quarter before four. He and the Duchess went to
Richmond at six. The maccaroni dinner was at Mannin's. My eyes are
still very painful to me at night, and I do not know what I shall do
for them. I hear of no news; that of the Duchess of Leinster's(118)
match is very equivoque; and extreme their drawing-room.
I (am) in constant expectation of being sent for again to
Gloucester, and begin (sic) a canvas. I think if I prevent it, and
an opposition, I shall be very vain of my conduct. There is nothing
so flattering as the shewing people who thought that they could dupe
you, that you know more of the matter than they do. I know too
little to be active, but have prudence enough to take no steps while
I am in the dark upon the suggestion of others who cannot possibly
interest themselves for me. But I really think it will be a miracle
if this is not a troublesome and expensive Election to me. However,
I will not anticipate the evil by groaning about it before it
happens. . . .
The Duke of Newcastle is to bring Will Hanger into Parliament, but
what is to pay for his chair to go down to the House the Lord knows;
they tell me that there is absolutely not a shilling left.
(117) John, fifth Duke of Argyll (1723-1806). He had married for his
second wife the Duchess of Hamilton, nee Gunning, the famous beauty.
(118) Lady Amelia Mary (1731-1814), daughter of Charles, second Duke
of Richmond, as celebrated for her beauty and charm as her sisters,
Lady Holland, Lady Louisa Connolly, and Lady Sarah Bunbury, The
reference is evidently to her approaching second marriage to Mr.
Ogilvy.
The correspondence of 1775 begins with the frequent story of Charles
Fox's debts. It has been well said of Carlisle, that each fresh
instance of prodigality in Fox "affected his generous heart with
anxiety for the character, the health, and the happiness of his
friend before he found time to compute and lament its calamitous
influence on his own fortunes."(119) Selwyn's solicitude for the
welfare of his friend urged him, as we see in the following letter,
to something like impatient expostulation on his forbearance and
good nature.
(1775?) (Beginning wanting.) . . . Gregg wants me to dun Charles. He
lost last night 800 pounds, as Brooks told me to-day. He receives
money from More the Attorney. He forestalls all he is to receive,
and unless the importunity begins with you, mine will avail nothing.
Besides, I fairly own that I cannot keep my temper. My ideas,
education, and former experience, or inexperience, of these things,
make me see some things in the most horrible light which you can
conceive, and I am far from being singular. Pray write a letter to
Charles, a tella fin que de raison; otherwise there will be no
ability left, and then it will be to no purpose.
What management you choose to have with him is more than I can
comprehend. I can conceive the intimacy between you. Your delicacy
of temper, ten thousand nuances de sentiments. But I can never
conceive that all feeling, all the principle, &c., should be of one
side only. If you don't press it, he will not think it pressing, and
will say so; that must depend upon what you choose to reveal. He may
not think you want it, or may think that all mire in which he
wallows is as indifferent to you as to him. Je me perds dans toutes
ces reflections. My God, if they did not concern you, I should not
care who were the objects of them.
(119) "The Early History of Charles James Fox," p. 460.
1775, Aug. 1, Tuesday afternoon, from your own house, below stairs.
--I came from Richmond this morning on purpose to meet Gregg here to
dinner, and we have had our leg of mutton together; a poor epitome
of Roman greatness. I believe, as Lord Grantham told me, few have
so little philosophy as I have. You have a great deal, having a much
more manly understanding. . . .
I have been misunderstood about Stavordale, because just what you
tell me you approve of is what I meant to propose, or if I had any
conception beyond it, it was from a sudden thought which I retract.
I have said a few words to Charles, but I do not find that he has
more intercourse with him than you have. He says that there can be
no doubt of the validity and payment of the debt, and there is no
anticipation of it. But it is not to be expected that Charles should
think more of Stavordale's debt than his own. He lost in three
nights last week 3,000, as he told me himself, and has lent Richard
God knows what; the account, and friendship, and want of it, between
them is as incomprehensible to me as all the rest of their history.
It is a mystery I shall never enquire into, when what concerns you
is out of the question. I never heard of the same thing in all the
first part of my life, and it shall be my own fault if I hear any
more of it.
I rode over yesterday to Lord Besborough's at Roehampton, on purpose
to see Lord Fitzwilliam,(120) and had a long discourse with him in
the garden. He was excessively pleased with the account which I gave
him of the present state of your affairs, together with your manner
of expressing yourself about them. Every word which dropped from him
discovered the real interest which he took in whatever concerned
you, and his affection for you. He is a very valuable young man.
Hare went away without being certain that he was to go to Castle H.
He will excuse me if I don't rely upon his resolutions in parties of
pleasure. But I should have been glad to have known for a certainty
that he was to have set out. I believe March's money and mine helped
to grease his wheels. March deserves to have lost his, because he
was the seducer. I could not have lost mine if he had kept me to my
obligation; but I will not resign my fetters any more. Welcome, my
chains; welcome, Mr. Lowman, the keeper. I am glad it went no
further.
(120) William Wentworth Fitzwilliam, second Earl Fitzwilliam (
1748-1863). He began at Eton his lifelong friendship with Fox and
Carlisle. In 1794 he was appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.
(1775, Aug.?.)--I am just come from Almack's. Many are gone to the
Thatched House,(121) to sup with the ladies, as they call it. These
ladies are Lady Essex and Miss Amyas(?). Richard won last night
1,300 ostensible, besides what he pocketed to keep a corps de
reserve unknown to Brooks. For Brooks lent him 2,300, and then
laments the state of the house. He duns me for three hundred, of
which I am determined to give him but two; as he knows so well where
to get the other hundred, which is that Richard owes me, but seems
determined that I shall not have. Charles is winning more, and the
quinze table is now at its height. I have set down Brooks to be the
completest composition of knave and fool that ever was, to which I
may add liar. You say very true, that I have been in a bank, that I
have lost my money, that I want to get it back; but it is as true
that I shall make no attempt to get it back till my affairs are
quite in another posture from what they are at present; so pray give
me no flings about it, for I lay all the blame upon March, who
should not have contributed to it.
(121) The Thatched House Tavern in St. James's Street stood on the
site of the present Conservative Club. Various well-known clubs were
in the habit of meeting here, notably the Society of Dilettanti
which was formed in 1734, of it Walpole wrote that "the nominal
qualification is having been in Italy and the real one being drunk."
(1775,) Sept. 1, Friday, Richmond.--I have omitted, contrary to my
usual custom, two posts, the writing to you, which being out of
course may perhaps make you at a loss to guess what is become of me.
I am here with Mie Mie, and shall be so for ten or twelve days
longer, and then the weather being cool and the days grown short, I
shall find the evenings too tedious to myself and not very
beneficial to her, which would undoubtedly be with me the first
consideration. My journey to Castle H(oward) I would not postpone,
if the postponing of it was the prevention of it.
But as I am determined to go there, and it is not as I apprehend
material whether it be the first week of this month or of the next,
I have submitted to those who desire to govern me in this matter,
and that is in regard to Luggershall. My lawyers and Mr. T.
Townshend,(122) who is the heir of entail to that estate, have
entreated me not to omit any longer the holding what they call a
Court Leet.
Mr. Grenville's Bill, as I apprehended that it would, has made it
very dangerous to omit any forms which the law prescribes, and the
failure of what I am enjoined as lord of the manor to do by the
charter would certainly be very prejudicial upon an enquiry, and
perhaps lay me open to an opposition, which could never be made to
my interests or property there without such negligence.
For this reason I must either postpone my journey to Castle H(oward)
till after that, or make my stay there if I go before too short.
This is my present arrangement, which, however important it may be
represented to be, should be altered if I could be essentially
useful to you or to your affairs by it. I beg that you will not omit
to acquaint Mr. Gregg with this, who will see immediately the
necessity of it.
I could indeed have set out as I originally intended so as to have
met you upon your return, and should have done it if I could have
prevailed upon M(arch?) to have allowed me to do what I am now
doing, by which I flatter myself to bring about what will be in many
respects of use to that little infant, who has very little thought
bestowed upon her but by my means. It is a sore grievance to me, but
it is my lot and I must endure it.
My excursions to town are not above once in six days. On Saturday
last on my return hither I was indeed very near demolished. My
coachman thought fit to run for the turnpike, as the phrase is, and
against a four-wheeled waggon with six horses. He seemed to me to
have very little chance of carrying his point, if it was not to
demolish me and my chaise, but almost sure of succeeding in that. I
called, roared, and scolded to no purpose, il ne daigna pas
m'ecouter un instant: so the consequence was, what might be
expected, he came with all the force imaginable against the turnpike
gate, (and) set my chaise upon its head. Mr. Craufurd was with me,
and on the left side, which was uppermost, and we were for a small
space of time lying under the horses, at their mercy, and the
waggoner's, who seemed very much inclined to whip them on, and from
one or other, that is, either from the going of the waggon over us,
or the kicking of the horses, we were both in the most imminent
danger. Lady Harrington was in her coach just behind us, and took me
into it, Mr. Craufurd got into Mr. Henry Stanhope's phaeton, and so
we went to Richmond, leaving the chaise, as we thought, all
shattered to pieces in the road. This happened just after I had
finished my last letter to you, and which I think had very near been
the last that I should ever have wrote to you, as those tell me who
saw the position in which we for some time were.