from C(astle) H(oward) of last Monday, the 28th August, and you may
be sure that it is no small pleasure to me to find by every letter
which I receive, that there is such an attention to your affairs, as
is really worthy your understanding and capacity. You will find your
account in it, by preventing ennui in yourself and roguery in
others, besides a thousand train (sic) of evils that are inseparable
from dissipation and negligence. I hope that you made my compliments
to Mr. Nicolson; il a l'air d'un personnage tres respectable, d'un
homme affide et sur. I cannot afford to wish any period of mine, at
ever so little distance, to be arrived, but I am tempted to wish
that I was two years older, for this reason, that I am confident
your affairs, and the state of your mind, will be pleasanter than it
has been in for a great while. So my wife(123) has made you another
agreeable visit for a fortnight, as she called it. I am sorry for
what you tell me of the visit which was not made. I don't love
excuses, but perhaps there may be some which need not give any
jealousy of want of true affection. I hope you will receive mine as
such, or I would set out for C(astle) H(oward) directly. I have
totally laid aside the thoughts of going this year to Matson, or
even to Gloucester. I have no engagement, but to be one day at
Luggershall, but that with difficulty can be dispensed with. Neither
Lord N(orth) or his Parliament, or anything else shall prevent me
from going to you when you desire it.
But the alteration in the little girl is so visibly for the better,
since she has been in this air, and Mrs. Craufurd acts so much like
a guardian to her, that I am in hopes by degrees to be the means of
placing her where my mind will for the present be easy about her,
and that she may be brought up with that education that, with the
help of other advantages, may in some measure recompense her for the
ill fortune of the first part of her life. This is, if my heart was
kid open, all that you could see in it at present, except the
anxiety which is now almost over in regard to you.
For I verily believe that what has happened, although it came upon
me like coup de tonnerre, and has given me a great deal of bile, and
my stomach I find weakened from that cause, more than from any
other,--for I'm more and more abstemious every day,--yet I now see
that all will end well, and that in the meantime neither you (n)or
Lady C(arlisle) will make yourselves uneasy by placing things before
you in a wrong light.
I will speak to Ridley when I go to town, but scolding increases my
bile, and so to avoid it I sent that coachman who had like to have
destroyed me this day sevennight out of my sight, and his horses,
without seeing him.
You say that C(harles) will receive four or five thousand from Lord
S(tavordale?) upon the same account. Je le crois, and others will
soon after receive it from him, but I am afraid not you. You may be
sure that he said nothing to me of that; he does not talk of his
resources to me, except that of his Administration, which you will
be so just to me as to recollect that I never gave any credit to,
because he knows how I desire that those resources may be applied.
On the contrary, when I spoke to him the other day about your
demand, I was answered only with an elevation de ses epaules et une
grimace dont je fus tant soit feu pique. But it is so. I shall say
no more to him upon that or any other subject than I can help. La
coupe de son esprit, quelque brillante quelle puisse etre, n'est pas
telle qui me charme et luisera par la suite pour le mains inutile.
I am now going in my chaise to dine at Mr. Digby's, ou cette branche
de la famille ne sera pas traitee avec beaucoup de management; and
first I am going to write a letter to my Lord Chancellor to thank
him for a living which he has given to a friend of mine at
Gloucester, accompanied with the most obliging letter to me in the
world. This and yours have put me to-day in very good humour. We had
an assembly last night at Mrs. Craufurd's for Lady Cowper, Lady
Harrington, Lady H. Vernon, &c., and Mie Mie was permitted to sit up
till nine. She wanted to see "an sembelly," as she calls it, and
was mightily pleased. . . .
(122) Thomas Townshend (1733-1800), afterward first Viscount Sydney,
was Selwyn's nephew. He was Secretary of War in 1782, and in 1783
Secretary of State, when he initiated the policy of sending convicts
beyond the seas as colonists. Sydney in Australia was named after
him. His second daughter married the second Earl of Chatham, and his
fourth daughter married the fourth Duke of Buccleugh--"the
beautiful, the kind, the affectionate, and generous Duchess" of Sir
Walter Scott.
(123) A joking allusion to one of his friends.
(1775,) Oct. 7, Saturday night.--I returned from Luggershall
yesterday, a day later than I was in hopes to have come, for I was
made to believe that the Court Leet, which was my object in going,
would have been held on Wednesday; however I passed a day
extraordinary better than I expected in that beggarly place. I made
an acquaintance with a neighbouring gentleman, who has a very good
estate, and a delightful old mansion, where I played at whist and
supped on Wednesday evening. He is a descendant of the Speaker
Smith, and son of that Mr. Ashton whom we saw at Trentham, or whom I
saw there the first'time I went, and who was an evidence against me
at Oxford 30 years ago--a sad rascal; but the son is un garcon fort
honnete, and he received me with extraordinary marks of civility and
good breeding.
We have the same relations, and his house was furnished with many of
their pictures. There was one of a great grandmother of mine, who
was the Speaker's sister, painted by Sir P. Lely, that was one of
the best portraits I ever saw. I wish Sir J. Reynolds had been there
to have told me why those colours were so fine and looked as if they
were not dry, while all his are as lamb (sic) black in comparison of
them. I am to have a copy of this picture next spring.
I shall appoint Gregg on Monday to meet me on business, and I will
therefore defer talking upon that subject till I have seen him.
Storer dined with me to-day. Hare and Charles I am told have lost
everything they had at Newmarket. General Smith has been the winner.
Richard also is stripped. No company in town as yet, or news. I have
been writing Gloucester letters to-night about this damned contest
till I am blind, so I must be short. Ridley has assured me that he
has sent the books.
Have you read the Anecdotes of Me du Barri? They are to me amusing.
The book is I think a true picture of the latter end of the life and
court of that weak wretch Louis XV., not overcharged, and so many of
the facts being incontestable, you may take the whole story for a
true one, no one part being more improbable than another. Will you
have it sent? It is dear, half-a-guinea; un recit trop graveleux
pour etre recommande aux dames. My most affectionate compliments,
and so adieu. My eyes grow too dim to write, but are infinitely
mended.
I dine to-morrow at the Ambassador's, and after dinner we go to make
our visits at Richmond to Lady Fawkener, and to Petersham. I thank
you for your idea of Emily(124): j'en profiterai; I can depend upon
no other's.
(124) Edward Emly, Dean of Derry. Selwyn always writes of him as
"Emily": in a letter of March 24, 1781, he calls him "Mr. Dean
Emily."
In the midst of the news of the gaieties of the town, of the begging
of political placemen for a higher rank in the peerage, we now come
upon the question of America. The English people had not yet
appreciated the momentous struggle into which the King and his
ministers had drawn their country. The flippancy with which Selwyn
alludes to the rebellion is indicative of the general state of
opinion even among those who were constantly at the centre of
political affairs. The battle of Bunker's Hill had been fought on
the 17th of the preceding June, and yet to Selwyn the struggle
beyond the Atlantic was merely a "little dispute."
(1775,) Oct. 11, Wednesday m(orning).--I went last night after I had
sent my letters to the post, which by the way was not till past ten,
to Lady Betty's. There were with her Lady Julia, Gregg, and a Mr.
Owen at whist. There were Hare, Delme,(125) and his odd-looking
parson, who came to town to christen the child. I went from thence
and supped at Lady Hertford's, with Lord Fr(ederick) Cavendish, Mrs.
Howe, and the Beau Richard, who is returned from Jamaica. His friend
Colonel Kane has got the start of him since he went dans la carriere
politique, mais le bon Colonel est un peu plus intriguant que son
camarade; celui-ci est certainement un charactere bien sauvage, un
melange d'irlandois et de Creol, et avec tout cela, un fort honnete
garcon. . . .
You pant after news from America; there are none pour le moment.
But you may depend upon it, if that little dispute interests you, I
will let you know, quand le monde sera rassemble, tout ce que
j'apprens, et de bon lieu.
Charles assures us that nothing is so easy as to put an end to all
this, but then there must be a change of Ministry, quelconque, no
matter what, as a preliminary assurance to the Insurgents; and then
for the inference, under any change he can't allow himself to take
an employment, and lay more money upon shark(s?). But there will be
no change yet, I am confident, and when there is, he will as much
want another.
They now doubt of Southwell's peerage,(126) after all the bustle in
our country. All the claimants for new peerages oppose it with their
clamours, as if this was a creation, and taking it for granted that
the King is to accept their interpretations instead of his own. I
suppose, if he fulfilled all his engagements upon that score, there
would be an addition to the House of Lords equal to the present
number.
Ergo, if I was King, I should expunge the whole debt, and begin sur
nouveaux fraix. I think that I should have answer ready to make to
my Minister against those promises. I should tell him, if my affairs
required a Sir G. Hawke or who(m) you please to be made a peer, it
should be down (done) sur le champ, but I would not be hampered by
engagements. Qu'en pensez-vous, Seigneur? I take it for granted that
Lord Gower will be here soon. I have desired Gregg to wait on him
with an account of all that has passed in your affairs during my
regency, because Gregg will be better able to state the matter to
him, and to explain the necessity I have been under, by an
unexpected increase of demands, of transcending the bounds of the
deed, as well as to satisfy him upon your own domestic economy,
which is certainly by all accounts irreprehensible.
(125) Peter Delme, married in 1769 to Lady Elizabeth Howard, Lord
Carlisle's sister; he was called Peter the Czar, in allusion to his
great wealth, which, however, he and Lady Betty very much reduced by
high play. He shot himself in Grosvenor Square, April 10, 1770.
(126) Thomas George, third Baron Southwell (1721-1780), was created
Viscount Southwell in July, 1776.
(1775,) Nov. 16, Thursday night, the Committee Room of the House of
Commons.--I received last night, but late, your much wished-for and
expected letter concerning the Bedchamber;(127) which, containing
what it did, and the style of it being what it was, I carried this
morning to Lord G(ower), who seemed perfectly satisfied with the
option you had made, and the manner in which you expressed yourself
in relation to himself. Lord North dines with him on Saturday, when
he intends to expatiate more at large upon your views, and to urge
further your pretensions to some more advantageous situation.
I must say for the Bedchamber, you could not have a more honourable
post or at the same time a more insignificant one. I ventured to
tell Lord G. that I believe (sic), notwithstanding the demur you
made upon it, if it had been a point with him that you should have
accepted it--I did believe that you would. I thought that I ran no
risk in making on your behalf that compl(imen)t, as he seemed to be
so perfectly agreed with me that it was better not to accept it.
He entered with me on the last account from the Colonies, which is
undoubtedly much more favourable than was expected by friends, or
enemies; and it agreed so perfectly with the private letters which I
have seen, that I could not but credit it. It is my real belief that
the Opposition will be disappointed, and those who have joined them
upon speculation and resentment, not a little vexed at being duped.
It is impossible to answer for events, but these must be such as are
very little expected or probable, before there can be any breach in
the present Ministry, or the King obliged to make a change in it.
Burke's speech(128) to-day was three hours and twenty minutes. Lord
Ossory has hoisted his flag, and spoke. It is now about 9 o'clock;
it will be midnight in all probability before we rise, for none of
the leading persons in Administration has spoke, or the principal
squibs of opinion. Charles is down, but has not yet spoke. I am more
desirous myself of hearing Lord G. G(ermaine) than anybody. He looks
very confident, and I take for granted is prepared for all kind of
abuse.
Rigby came to me in the House last night to know if I had heard from
you, adding, "I hope to God that he will accept the Bedch(amber)." I
was not more desirous that you should, because that was his opinion.
I thought that Lord G(ower) had been talking to him, but he assured
me that he had not; so from what quarter his intelligence came I
know not. Lord G. thought that it was most probable from Lord North.
If you had made that your option, I should have proposed that you
should at the same time have been sworn into the Privy Council, as
an earnest that more was intended, and in a Line of Business, and I
think that they would not have objected to it.
Adam Hay, Lord March's Member for Peebles, died yesterday, I am
afraid to say suddenly, because it is a suspicious word, and will be
more so in his case, as I believe Fortune has not been favourable to
him. But I do not believe anything of that sort; his general state
of health has been bad for some time, and I was told that his last
and fatal attack was in his bowels. The two Lascells and (sic) dined
at his house not a week ago. Sir R. Keith comes in, in his room.
Lord N(orth) and Lord Suffolk recommend him. March has demurred upon
it, but seems not determined for particular reasons. I have been
employed about this, this whole day at Court, and then with Lord
North, and going backwards and forwards. March will not do what he
should, at the time it ought to be done, and then things are in
confusion, when they should be adjusted, and carried into execution.
It is to no purpose endeavouring to persuade him; if you tell him
what may happen, he silences you with some adage, or a qu'importe,
and so drives everything off till he does (not) know what party
(parti?) to fix upon.
(127) Lord Carlisle declined the offer of a Lordship of the
Bedchamber, see Trevelyan's "Early Life of Fox," chap. iv.
(128) On November 16th Burke moved for leave to bring in a Bill for
composing the present troubles and for quieting the minds of his
Majesty's subjects in America. The motion was negatived, after an
important debate, a little before five o'clock in the morning, by
210 to 105 votes.
(1775,) Dec. 9, Saturday m(orming), at home.--By accident you will
receive no letter from me to-morrow, but by no accident facheux. For
the future, however I conclude my day, I will begin it by writing to
you, when the day comes that I am to write.
Yesterday I dined at Lord Gower's; there were the B(isho)p of
Worcester, Lord Stanley and Lady Betty, Lord March, Storer, K.
Stewart, and la famille; en verite votre beau-pere est bien servi;
le diner fut superbe. I was obliged, without staying for my coffee,
to go to the House, where we were till about ten. I hope that it is
the last day of business before the Recess.
I sent your letter last night to Lady Carlisle, and wrote to her
myself. But I will defer no more writing to anybody till the
evening, excepting to Ald. Harris, who is at present very clamorous
for a letter, for he has not heard from me in God knows how long a
time, and at this minute I have mislaid his last letters.
I have contrived to wrench out of Charles's black hands 50 pounds
for Spencer, by watching the opportunity of his play, and should
have got from anybody but himself one thousand of the 1,500, for he
had won that, and more, the other night, and it was to have been
paid to him the next morning. I sent immediately to Gregg, and it
was my design to have carried your bond to Brooks, who should have
intercepted the 1,000 for his own use, and then I should have
applied the same sum afterwards to the tradesmen; but he was too
quick for me, and set (sat) up and lost it and more to Lord
Stavordale. I know that he could have pleaded his debt to Lord
Cholmondly, and to Brooks himself, &c., neither of whom probably
would have received a groat; but that matter is over for the
present. However, Brooks has promised me that (sic), if any event of
this kind happens again, to avail himself of it, for your
convenience.
I have taken the liberty to talk a good deal to Lord Stavordale,
partly for his own sake and partly for yours, and pressed him much
to get out of town as soon as possible, and not quit Lord Ilchester
any more. His attention there cannot be of long duration, and his
absence may be fatal to us all. I painted it in very strong colours,
and he has promised me to go, as soon as this Sedgmoor Bill is
reported. I moved to have Tuesday fixed for it. We had a debate and
division upon my motion, and this Bill will at last not go down so
glibly as Bully hoped that it would. It will meet with more
opposition in the H(ouse) of Lords, and Lord North being adverse to
it, does us no good. Lord Ilchester gets, it is said, 5,000 pounds a
year by it, and amongst others Sir C. Tynte something, who, for what
reason I cannot yet comprehend, opposes it.
The comparison of me to Arlequin, I allow to be in a great measure
just. The events have frequently called his (sic) to my mind. But I
beseech you do not say that you do not desire to hinder me from a
favourite amusement. If it was an innocent one also, passe; but it
is not only dangerous, but in its consequences criminal, and there
is no dependence upon any one man breathing, who pursues it with the
chaleur which I have done. How can I expect another man to trust me,
if I cannot trust myself?
Therefore, although March has dissolved the tie,(129) I beg that you
will lay me under some sort of restriction about it. I do not speak
this from having now suffered, for I have not, as I told you before,
since March last; that is, by the event. But I have been susceptible
(since?) then more than once, and it has been my good fortune and
not my prudence which has kept me above water.
What I propose is, to receive a guinea, or two guineas, and to pay
twenty, for every ten which I shall lose in the same day, above 50,
at any game of chance. I reserve the 50 for an unexpected necessity
of playing in the country, or elsewhere, with women. All things
considered, it is the best tie, and the tax the easiest paid, and
restrictive enough, and twenty guineas you will take; and if you tie
me up, I beg my forfeitures may go to the children, and then perhaps
I may forfeit for their sake, you'll say. I really think it will be
a wise measure for me, and a safe one; and let this tie be for this
year only, and then, if it is demonstrable that my fortune is
impaired by not playing, the tie will be over, and not renewed the
next. In the mean time, and till I shall hear your sentiments upon
this, I must avoid going to Almack's, and so I will. . . .
I dine to-day at Harry St. John's, and to-morrow at Eden's(130); and
on Monday all the St. Johns in the world, old and young, dine here.
Lord Northington(131) brought me home two nights in his coach, and
in one of them the conversation turned upon you. He said there was
nobody had a better idea of what a gentleman should be than
Carlisle; that you was so throughout. There is a singularity and
frankness in some people's manner of delivering their sentiments, by
which they receive great advantage. You remember Sir R. Payne's way
of describing you, which was still more odd; he said if anybody
looked through the keyhole at any time to see how you behaved when
you was alone, that he was sure there would be no more impropriety
in it than if you had a hundred eyes upon you. I don't like
commending you myself, but I like to hear others do so, and
especially when they speak about what they think, and when what they
think has the air of verite in it.
I hope you make my compliments to Ekins, and that he has by this
time read Atterbury quite through. I do not propose the Bishop as a
pattern for anything but for eloquence; and for argument, on n'en
trouve pas, chez lui.
I think that Storer, John St. John,(132) and I, shall set out in
about ten days. My coach, cloak, and muff are ready. Adieu most
affectionately. My respects to Lady C(arlisle) and my love to the
children, and last of all do not despair of me about Hazard, for it
being what I love so much, is precisely the reason why I shall be
more upon guard in respect to it. I do not mean by this to limit,
but the ense recidendum; every other parti is delusive and childish.
(129) See ante, note 105.
(130) William Eden, Lord Auckland (1744-1814). He was educated at
Eton and Oxford; called to the Bar in 1769. In 1778 was one of the
peace commissioners to America with Lord Carlisle, accompanying him
later to Ireland as secretary. Between 1785 and 1789 he filled
appointments as ambassador successively to France, Spain, and the
United Provinces. In 1789 he was created Baron Auckland in Ireland,
and in 1793 raised to the English peerage. He married Eleanor,
daughter of Sir Gilbert Elliot and sister of the first Earl of
Minto.
(131) Robert Henley, second Earl of Northington (1747-1782), a
friend of Charles Fox. The main event of his political life was his
tenure of the office of Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland in the Coalition
Ministry in 1783.
(132) John St. John (1746-1793), third son of John, second Viscount
St. John, a typical specimen of the macaroni. He was an M.P. from
1773 to 1784, held a sinecure post as Surveyor-General of Land
Revenues. He wrote some political pamphlets, a play, and an opera.
The play was a tragedy--"Mary Queen of Scots"; it was acted at Drury
Lane with some success in 1789, Kemble and Mrs. Siddons taking the
leading parts.
(1775,) December 12, Tuesday night.--General Scott is dead; sic
Diis placuit. Bully(133) has lost his Bill. I reported it to-day,
and the Question was to withdraw it. There were 59 against us, and
we were 35. It was worse managed by the agents, supposing no
treachery, than ever business was. Lord North, Robinson, and Keene
divided against. Charles said all that could be said on our side.
But as the business was managed, it was the worst Question that I
ever voted for. We were a Committee absolutely of Almack's; so if
the Bill is not resumed, and better conducted and supported, this
phantom of 30,000 pounds clear in Bully's pocket to pay off his
annuities vanishes. It is surprising what a fatality attends some
people's proceedings. I begged last night as for alms, that they
would meet me to settle the Votes. I have, since I have been in
Parliament, been of twenty at least of these meetings, and always
brought numbers down by those means. But my advice was slighted, and
twenty people were walking about the streets who could have carried
this point.
December 14, 1775.(134)--I was much disappointed yesterday in not
receiving a letter from you. I dined here and alone and was in hopes
that a letter from you would have come or I should have dined out
for my spirits at present are not good, nor can I contrive that they
should be better, and yet je ne donnerai pas la mort though nothing
in the world has happened, but j'ai les dragons noirs et fort noirs;
l'avenir me donne des horreurs, but brisons la pour la present: I
have bought to-day at Lord Holland's sale of books, "Dart's
Antiquities of Westminster Abbey," a very complete copy on large
paper. But I paid 6 pounds for it, which is 2 pounds more than it
has been usually estimated at. Dr. Baker has promised to propose me
for the Royal Society, and I will be of as many societies as I can
which may serve for dissipation and to avoid what I have more reason
to dread than anything in the world. I am sure a grand coup de
malheur at play would oppress me beyond anything.
I hope that apprehension will keep me from it, and you must assist
me. Don't say, he knows it, it is to no purpose--speaking to
anybody. . . . Speaking does operate if you esteem the person who
speaks, and those who are silent have an indifference about what
happens to their friends which I know you have not. There is an old
translation of Plutarch two hundred years old by Amyot, in twelve or
fourteen volumes 12mo. bound in blue maroc. Gibbon tells me that it
is a very rare and valuable book, one of the first translations
which was in that language, and has infinite merit. The print is not
good enough for me, it will come high and I seldom read. I must buy
quartos now, large letter, and books of another kind which amuse me
more. Lady Holland has got well again. Scott has left 200,000 pounds
and two daughters who divide it. ... I hear some good news is come
to-day from America. I shall know more of it from this dinner I am
going to. I have no mind to go, but cannot recede. I hope that my
spirits will be the better for it, but it is the gloomiest day I
ever knew. The Duchess of Kingston is in a great fright for the
consequences of her trial. Where she is to be tried is not yet
decided. Most people I take it for granted wish it may be in
Westminster Hall. Lord Mansfield opposes it. It is near five so I
shall take my leave. I wrote this for fear this dinner and a nap,
etc., might prevent my writing. My respects to Lady C. and the dear
children.
(133) Lord Bolingbroke.
(134) This letter was not included in those printed by the
Historical MSS. Commission.
In this last letter Selwyn notes the arrival of news from America.
But he preferred to let his friend Storer forward the political
information of the moment to Carlisle, so that a letter of Storer is
sometimes supplementary to one of Selwyn. The following is a
continuation, so to say, of that which Selwyn wrote on the same
date.
Anthony Storer to Lord Carlisle.
1775, December 14, Portugal Street.--I did not give Selwyn my
promise concerning our expedition to Castle Howard, and therefore
should not have mentioned it to you; but if I am not able to come,
it will be some comfort to me to know that you will have him and St.
John; so that if you fail of getting any politics out of George, I
think you must be very unlucky if you have not, what you wish, a
boar (sic) of politics from the other.
I assure you, at least so it appears to me, that American politics
are very much altered. Taxation and the exercise of it are totally
renounced. You never hear the right mentioned, but in order to give
it up. The rigid politician of last year, such a man for instance as
Wellbore Ellis, stands now almost single in the House of Commons.
You ask me if the Intercourse Bill,(135) as it is called, cuts off
all commerce and communication with the Islands. You may guess why
it is called the Intercourse Bill; it is lucus a non lucendo. The
Americans are neither to trade with the West Indies or Great
Britain; they are not interdicted any commerce with us, but they are
to be treated, both themselves and their vessels, as enemies in open
time of war, and the captures are to become the property of the
commanders and the sailors.
This is the winding up of our catastrophe. If it lasts more than one
year, it seems even to moderate West Indians to be totally ruinous
to them. What seems to affect them most by the passing of this Bill
is not the fear of starving, which they have their apprehensions of,
but the danger there is of their being taken on false pretences by
the men of war that are to protect them, or by the Americans, on
whose coast they are always obliged to pass very near. In short,
every West Indian, except Jack Douglas, is in the utmost
consternation.
Parliament, that is, the House of Commons, have done their business;
we are now waiting for this Bill to pass the Lords, and then we
adjourn for the holidays. The day before yesterday, the Sedgmoor
Inclosure Bill, in which Lord Bolingbroke was very much interested
(G. Selwyn was Chairman for and in the Committee) was thrown out,
owing to some irregularities--some differences in the Assent Bill
and the House Bill. As you have had something to do with enclosures,
you understand those two words, so I need not explain them.
It is true I have spoke, and as you say, and as I meant, not
brilliantly. Le mieux est l'ennemi du bien, is a very favourite
maxim of mine. Perhaps, as this is one of my great undertakings, it
is more owing to you, than to any other motive. I know you will
laugh at me, for saying so, but I really believe it. I said a few
words, too, upon your Morpeth business, which encouraged me perhaps
to do afterwards, what I did with respect to Mr. Oliver's motion.
Lord G. Germaine's coming into office seems to have been a greater
acquisition on the side of Government, than on his. Office adds
dignity and respect to some men; others, who derive no dignity from
it, generally lose by it. This I think Lord G.'s case. He seemed to
speak with much more weight, before he was in office. The Ghost of
Mindon is for ever brought in neck and shoulders to frighten him
with. Willes (Wilkes) and Sawbridge have attacked him more than once
with the British Cavalry; and thus, he must either turn absolute
knight errant, or else put up quietly with constant affronts.
The news-papers must have given you the general features of this
year's politics. The complexion of them, I own, is somewhat altered;
and so much, that I dare say you will hardly know 'em again. You
will soon grow used to them, however, and upon very little
acquaintance, will be as intimate with them as ever. So much for the
affairs of the Nation. You, who hear no politics, will be astonished
at this boar (sic), but must excuse it from me, who hear nothing
else.
Indeed, there is another operation which breaks in upon this
subject, i e., the game of Commerce. Lady Betty has taken to this
game, and she makes all the world, bon gre, malgre, play at it till
five o'clock in the morning. I live there almost; what with Balls,
Bt (?), Tessier, Commerce, Supper, and Quinze, I am never out of the
house. They have invited me to go to the Oaks, this Christmas, but
if Castle Howard is too far, the Oaks, I assure you, will be much
farther. I rather think I shall go for a fortnight to Bath. You have
heard of Gen. Scott's death. George's motto for his achievement is
--sic Dice placuit; and for his sarcophagus--Dice Manibus, &c. . . .
(135) The American Prohibitory Bill, to prevent trade and
intercourse between the American Colonies and Great Britain and the
West Indies.
(1775?) Dec. 19, Tuesday.--I write to you before dinner, and before
I have all the opportunities which I might have before night of
sending you news, for fear that it should happen as it did last
Saturday, that I fall asleep, and so let pass the hour of the post.
The cold drives me to the fire, and the fire into a profound nap, in
which every earthly thing is forgot; but it shall happen no more,
that a post goes without something to indicate my existence.
Last night and the night before I supped at Lady Betty Stanley's.
Their suppers are magnificent, but their hours are abominably late;
however, they do not discourage my Lord of Worcester from staying
them out. We are very merry, all of us, and I think Mrs. North the
merriest of us all. At 2 this morning, the Bishop and I were almost
left alone; the rest of the company were in their domino's, and
going to the Masquerade. I have seen nobody to-day to tell me what
passed there.
I have been with Mie Mie at Gainsborough's,(136) to finish her
picture. I thank you for inquiring after her; it has been one of my
comforts that she has escaped any of these colds. She seems to grow
very strong; so far, so good.
Sir G(eorge) M'Cartney and Lady Holl(an)d dined here yesterday, and
we had the contrivance to keep our party a secret from Craufurd,
for, although he was engaged to two other places, he told March that
he should have been glad to have come, and certainly would, if he
had known it. I think verily he grows more tiresome every day, and
everybody's patience is a bout, except Smith's and Sir George's.
Sir G(eorge) has been telling me to-day, that Lord Stormont is
coming from France, and is to have Lord Marchmont's place, who is
satisfied by the peerage of his son, and that Lord Harcourt will
stay but a very little while longer in Ireland. This must produce in
all probability other removes.
I dine to-morrow with Lord Gower, Lady G(ower), Lord and Lady
Waldegrave, l'Ambassadeur, and Monsr. Tessier, at Bedford House. I
shall know, perhaps, something more of this then. Her Grace has
suppers for the class I dine with to-day, but I am not of them.
Monsieur Tessier is to read to the Queen, and till then, will read
no more; he goes down to pass his Xmas at Wilton. I wish, for Lady
Carlisle's entertainment, that you had him for two or three days, at
Castle H.
I should, with your approbation, have been glad to have carried him
with me. I shall be glad to bring anybody, but I have no prospect,
but of John St. John. Storer tells me that he goes to the Bath. Eden
would be excessively happy to go, if it was for a few days only, but
his attendance at this time seems scarcely to be dispensed with. Our
last news from America are certainly not good, but it does not alter
my expectations of what will be the issue of the next campaign. It
is a great cause of amusement to Charles, but I see no good to him
likely to come from it in the end.
I wish to know, if I could, precisely your time of leaving Castle
H(oward). I should be glad to contrive it, so as to return with you.
You will be here for the Trial,(137) I take for granted. It will be
altogether the most extraordinary one that ever happened in this or
I believe any other country. It is a cursed, foul pool, which they
are going to stir up, and-how many rats, cats, and dogs, with other
nuisances, will be seen floating at the top, nobody can tell. It
will be as much a trial of the E(arl) of B(ristol) as of her, and in
point of infamy, the issue of it will be the same, and the poor
defunct Duke stand upon record as the completest Coglione of his
time. The Attorney and Solicitor General have appointed Friday, as I
hear, for a hearing of what her Bar can say in favour of a Noli
prosequi, which is surely nothing.
(136) Gainsborough was at this time living at Schomberg House, Pall
Mall, and therefore was a near neighbour of Selwyn. This portrait is
not to be found among Gainsborough's existing works.
(137) See note (109)
Selwyn, as we see by the preceding letter, represented the
optimistic spirit of the English people in regard to the American
War. His friend Storer, though one of the Court party and a place
seeker, shows a much truer appreciation of the actual condition of
affairs. With a keener interest than Selwyn in political matters he
sometimes, as already mentioned, took his friend's place as Lord
Carlisle's correspondent when political interest was aroused. In the
letter which follows he perceives clearly the future course of the
struggle.
Anthony Storer to Lord Carlisle.
(1775,) Dec. 29, Bath.--I broke off very abruptly in my last, telling
you that Oliver's Motion came into Parliament in so strange a form,
that it met with very little encouragement; Wilkes counted twelve
who divided with him on the main Question, and he dignified them by
calling them his twelve Apostles.
Sawbridge had attacked the present Administration for their intended
folly of taking up four other persons besides Mr. Eyre upon
the news of that plot, that made so much noise for a day or
two at the opening of Parliament; and said that some person in
Administration had very wisely objected to it, because instead
of having the Wilkes, there would immediately be five.
To which Lord North answered by saying, though he might believe a
Buckingham House Junto might do a great deal, yet he had so much
respect for Mr. Wilkes, as not to imagine that they could easily
make another person at (all?) similar to him; that he had seen the
difficulty of such an undertaking by observing, that gentlemen who
made it the whole object and study of their lives to resemble him,
had failed in the attempt. He ended by quoting--Non cuivis homini
contingit, etc.; some of the Treasury prompted him--Ex quovis ligno
non fit Mercurius.
We divided twice that day, besides having a third Question. The
order of the day was first put, then the previous Question, and the
main one. So that Wilkes and his party divided with us upon the
previous Question. Lord North upon this desired, while the minority
was in the Lobby, that gentlemen would stay for the main Question,
as we should not have some of the present majority with us. Upon the
whole, I never saw a Question in Parliament treated with so little
respect.
Now I ought, according to the course of proceedings, give you some
account of Hartley's; but as he has printed his speech, I will not
take that out of his hands, which he has so much more right to. He
spoke for above two hours. Good God! I shudder even now at the
thoughts of it. No one can have a complete idea of a boar (sic) who
has not been in Parliament.
Thus you have seen an epitome of what we have been about; what we
are to do, you are more likely to know than I, having a direct
avenue to the Cabinet; but I believe it is scarcely in their power
to say what we are to do. Whether we are to send Russians, or
French, or what nation the troops are to be of, I cannot guess. They
say Russians cannot go on account of the ice in the Baltic; and then
if they could, they say the French and Spaniards would not let them.
We are playing tres gros jeu, and in every way a losing game.
As for conquering America, without foreign troops, it is entirely
impossible; and I think it pretty near a certainty that the Rebels
will be in possession of all America by the spring. By the news of
Fort St. John's and Chambley, and the investiture of Quebec, their
diligence and activity is wonderful, and it must end in the
possession of all N(orth) Am(erica). They have taken a store-ship,
and have several ships at sea. De peu a peu nous arrivons; if they
go on so another year--fuit Ilium et ingens gloria--we shall make
but a paltry figure in the eye of Europe. Come to town, and be
witness to the fall, or the re-establishment, of our puissant
Empire. . . .
Little of Selwyn's correspondence in 1776 and 1777 has been
preserved. Possibly he wrote less, and made a long stay at Castle
Howard. "I have more bon jours and bon soirs for her en poche,"
referring to his little child-friend, Caroline Howard, "than I shall
be able to give her during the whole time I shall stay at Castle H."
For the despatch of political news he trusted, as he often did, to
Storer. "I hope that Storer gives you a more particular account of
what is said in the House than I can do. What is he employing
himself about? Why won't he attempt to say something? What
signifies, knowing what Cicero said and how he said it, if a man
cannot open his mouth to deliver one sentence of his own?" But
Storer, like many able and cultivated men, was more critical of his
own powers than those who want both talent and knowledge. He was
not, however, altogether neglectful of Selwyn's wishes, and he
presently sent Carlisle some political news, but of no great
interest.
Selwyn himself was in somewhat low spirits, he was as we know
troubled by Mie Mie's parents, and he longed for the society of
Carlisle and his family.
(1777, Feb.) Tuesday night.--. . . As to my own situation I cannot
say it is a happy (one), although I have so much more than I could
have expected. I have, indeed, for the present all I ever wished,
but I have also the strongest assurances given me that at all events
things shall continue for some time in the state in which they now
are. But whoever upon that concludes that I must be easy is either
ignorant or indifferent to the feelings of mankind. The bare
possibility of be[ing] rendered so unhappy as I should be made upon
a change of their resolution, or from the operations of caprice and
travers, I say the mere apprehensions of that, even slightly
founded, prevent my mind from being in that equilibre which is
absolutely necessary to my tranquillity. We are, I say, at present
going on very well, in as good and regular a progress of education
as it is possible; both Mie Mie and I as tractable as it is
possible; et troubler ce menage seroit une cruaute sans example.
I have also to grieve at other times for a great deprivation of part
of my happiness; that, I mean, to which you contributed, Lady
C(arlisle) and your children. There is a hiatus valde deflendus;
indeed, a lacune which I do not know how to fill up, and I sigh over
the prospect of it perpetually, and without seeing my way out of it.
I have, at another part of my day, a scene, which time or use cannot
reconcile to me. I see my mother's strength grow less every day,
without any consolation, but that her mind does not decay with it.
In short, my dear Lord, as I have often told you, j'ai l'esprit et
le coeur trop fracasses for me to be happy at present, and all I can
say is that I might, by untoward accidents, be more miserable, and
these are removed from my view pour le moment; but I wait for a
period of time when I shall be relieved from uncertainty of what may
happen, and when I may live and breathe without restraint and
apprehension. That period will, as I imagine, arrive in about two
months, and till then les assurances les plus fortes sont trop
faibles pour mon repos.
It is some time since I have had a long letter from you. I hope to
have one of some sort or other to-morrow. I hope all goes quietly,
at least Gregg says that you write cheerfully. On s'accoutume a
tout, they say, but I know and feel very sensibly that there are
exceptions to that adage.
The author of a new Grub Street poem, I see, allows me a great share
of feeling, at the same time that he relates facts of me, which, if
they were true, would, besides making me ridiculous, call very much
into question what he asserts with any reasonable man. I do not know
if you have received this performance. If I thought you had not,
paltry as it is, I should send it to you. The work I mean is called
"The Diaboliad."(138) This hero is Lord Ernham. Lord Hertford and
Lord Beauchamp are the chief persons whom he loads with his
invectives. Lord Lyttleton (and) his cousin Mr. Ascough are also
treated with not much lenity; Lord Pembroke with great familiarity,
as well as C. Fox; and Fitzpatrick, although painted in colours bad
enough at present, is represented as one whom in time the
Devil will lose for his disciple. I am only attacked upon that trite
and very foolish opinion concerning le pene e le Delitte (ed i
delitted), acknowledging (it) to proceed from an odd and insatiable
curiosity, and not from a mauvais coeur. In some places I think
there is versification, and a few good lines, and the piece seems to
be wrote by one not void of parts, but who, with attention, might
write much better.(139)
I forgive him his mention of me, because I believe that he does it
without malice, but, if I had leisure to think of such things, I
must own the frequent repetition of the foolish stories would make
me peevish. Alas! I have no time to be peevish. Quand on a le coeur
gros, et serre, comme je l'ai souvent a cette heure, il est rare que
l'on a de l'humeur; l'ame est trop serieusement attaquee et touchee
pour preter attention a de petites choses; chez moi, je suis triste,
je soupire, mais je ne gronde plus, je ne m'emporte pas.
Richard, I hear, goes in about a fortnight. Fish Craufurd thinks, as
I am told, that Lord O(ssory?) should pay his debts; that is, give
him 40,000 pounds from his own children, pour le delivrer des Juifs.
He pays already to one of them out of his 300 pounds a year, which
he meant to have paid to his brother for a more comfortable
maintenance.
I dined on Sunday at the French Ambassador's; a splendid and
wretched dinner, but good wine; a quantity of dishes which differed
from one another only in appearance; they had all the same taste, or
equally wanted it. The middle piece, the demeurant, as it is called,
a fine Oriental arcade, which reached from one end of the table to
the other, fell in like a tremblement de terre. The wax, which
cemented the composing parts, melted like Icarus's wings, and down
it fell. Seventy bougies occasioned this, with the number of persons
all adding to the heat of the room. I had a more private and much
better dinner yesterday at Devonshire House.
(138) "The Diaboliad, a poem dedicated to the Worst Man in His
Majesty's Dominion," London, G. Kearsley, 1777.
(139) "The Diaboliad" was a social satire: in it the devil was
supposed to have grown old, and being anxious to find a successor
for his throne visits London. He appears to a gambling party:--
"With joy and wonder struck the parties rise!
'Hell is worth trying for' . . . cries;
Pigeons are left unpluck'd, the game unplay'd,
And F forgets the certain Bett he made;
E'en S-l-n feels Ambition fire his breast
And leaves half told, the fabricated Jest.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The murmurs hush'd--the Herald straight proclaim'd
S-l-n the witty next in order nam'd,
But he was gone to hear the dismal yells
Of tortur'd Ghosts and suffering Criminals,
Tho' summoned thrice, he chose not to return,
Charmed to behold the crackling Culprits burn
With George all know Ambition must give place
When there's an Execution in the case." (pp. 3 and 17.)
(1777, Aug.) . . .. I am convinced that I shall be free some time
hence from that agitation of mind with which I am now so tormented,
and from those almost constant sinkings of my spirits; but, my dear
Lord, you may be quite assured that des plaies comme les miennes ne
se referment fas bientot, and when they do they have altered the
whole constitution of the mind to such a degree as never to let it
feel as it did before. But brisons la.
Mr. D'Oyley tells me that no important news is likely to come from
America before the 20th of this month. Lady Cornwallis told me
yesterday she expected some much sooner. Mr. D'Oyley's picture of
affairs was not a joyous one, but he gave an infinitely better
account of them to me than I have had from anybody else.
The Opposition affects great spirits, and to be sanguine about a
change of men and of measures. Je n'en crois rien. Charles said last
night if I would give him five guineas he would give me 100 if I
lost my place. He must get one himself to justify my accepting the
proposal. The match of tennis stark naked was not played, which I am
sorry for. Another red Ribbon vacant, Sir C. Montagu. Clinton
anticipated that which Lord Inchiquin had.
I saw Horry W(alpole) yesterday for a few minutes; his distresses
are, Lord O(rford's) lunacy, and the Duchess of Gloucester's
situation if his R(oyal) H(ighness) dies, who will probably come and
die in his own country. I wish these were mine, and I had no other,
but we cannot choose our own misfortunes; if we could, there is
nobody who would not prefer being concerned for a mad nephew whom
they did not care for, or a simple Princess whom they would laugh
at, si l'orgueil ne s'en meloit pas.
The great rendezvous of the White's people has been at my Lord
Cadogan's, as that of the Macaroni's at Lord Egremont's. Adieu pour
aujourd'hui; I need not conclude, as this letter does not go till
Tuesday.
Monday morning.--At Almack's last night:
Duke of Grafton, Lord Egremont, Jack Townsh(en)d, W. Hanger, Lord
March, Varcy, Barker, Hare, 2 Craufurds, Thompson, Lord
North[ingto]n, Foley, Sir W Draper, Sir C. Davers, Self, Boothby.
There was no news last night, and but little play. Boothby loses
regularly his 300, and, if he had a run in his favour [has] nobody
to furnish him with materials to profit by it. Lady Harriot came
again to fetch her husband in their vis a vis, and I crammed myself
in too. I left Draper and Sir C. Davers travelling through the worst
roads of Canada, Triconderaga (sic), and the Lord knows what
country. But it was so tiresome that I was glad to leave them in the
mud in[to] which their conversation had carried them.
Lord North (ingto) n is very sour about Lord Cov(entry)'s treatment
of his sister, and talks of going to Crome to expostulate with him
about it. I hope that he will not. It will do the cause no good in
any respect. I am for leaving everything for the present, bad as it
is, where the ill stars of them all have placed them. Cov (entry)'s
mind will take another turn, and [he will] do of his own accord
perhaps more than he ought.
Mademoiselle D'Eon goes to France in a few days; she is now in her
habit de femme, in black silk and diamonds, which she received from
the Empress of Russia, when she was in the army and at her Court as
minister, A German of her acquaintance has promised Lady Townshend
to contrive that she and I shall have a sight of her before she
goes. She met her grandson coming to town in a chaise and four,
ventre a terre, from Brighthelmstone; he dined with us. Storer's
attachment at present, as he says, is to Lady Payne. O'Brien gets
9,000 pounds a year, and the title, by Lord Inchiquin's death.
The absence of Lord Carlisle as a Commissioner to America caused a
break in the correspondence. Selwyn was much abroad during his
friend's absence, and the distance between England and America was
prohibitive of letters frequent. Two, however, from Paris in 1779
give an insight into Selwyn's life abroad. He resumed the
correspondence in 1780. He was not well; he was being pressed to go
to "that abominable town" of Gloucester. He hated electioneering,
but it is from Matson that the next letter, in the midst of the
General Election of 1780, is dated. He lost his seat--perhaps not
without regret--for he returned to the less irksome representation,
if such it could be called, of Ludgershall.
(1779,) April 18, Sunday, Paris.--. . . I have managed in regard to
my lodging as I once did in regard to poor Mr. Pottinger, whom I
wanted to avoid and so asked him in my confusion to dine with me,
which you cannot forget that he accepted. I wished above all things
to be lodged as far from a certain Lady(140) as I could, and I have
so contrived it, that for the present I am next door. I intend for
the future to describe her by that name, that is, La Dame, as Lord
Clarendon does the Duchess of Cleveland. I will for the rest of my
life mention her as little as possible; but when I am forced to
speak upon her subject I will take care not to call her by her name,
and I am the more authorised so to do, as she has called me by every
name but that by which I should be described, and that is your
friend.
The Barone servante is gone to England, as you perhaps know, and
perhaps she is now on his (sic) road back. However I shall be quit I
hope for a distant bow; for although honest Iago had taken as much
care as possible that he should cut my throat, a much better friend
took care that he should not; which is the Marechal B(iron).(141)
I went yesterday to the Marechal for the first time; he was in his
levee room; it was the day that the officers of the Gardes
francoises always dine with him. We dropt upon him once (again?) the
same day; but this was at noon, and he was giving audience. He took
me out immediately into another room, and after some civil
reproaches for not having been there before--for some English, who
dine with him on a Friday, had told him that I was come--he entered
into a very particular conversation upon that very disagreeable
subject, upon which he spoke with all the reason and good nature and
propriety imaginable.
I said for you everything which I could conceive it would be
agreeable to you that I should say. I found it very acceptable, and
his respect for you so great, and so much real kindness mixed with
it, that having in my coach a picture of Caroline, which I had
intended for the Duchesse de la Valiere, I desired him to accept of
it, and I think he received it as well as I could for her sake have
wished him to do. I believe he will think that Lady Dunmore's
daughters will not be the only beauties that we shall be able to
produce. He was delighted with it. I gave him also another of
Admiral Keppell,(142) which is an extraordinary good one. Caroline's
was not a good impression, which I am sorry for. I gave my other
where I dined, to Me de la Vaupaliere, to be a pendant to your own,
and you must send me one of Lady C(arlisle), ill as she is
represented, that the collection may be complete.
What he said besides was inevitable. I am unwilling to repeat it. I
wish that there was not so much truth in it. I wish that it could be
remedied, but that is impossible, for the only step towards it,
which is returning to her family, and to yours, she is determined
not to take; she will return no more to England I believe, if she
can help it, unless [to] be totally abandoned and plundered
everywhere else becomes a necessary inducement.
I am at Galan's, at the Hotel de Bourbon, next door to where we used
to lodge, what is now called l'Hotel de Danmark. But I must remove,
for one apartment will not do; we must have three; one for Monsieur
le Marquis, another for the child and her people, and one for
myself. So I think I must go for the present to the Pare Royal.
Every kind of house has been offered to me, to induce . . .
(140) The Countess Dowager of Carlisle, whose proposed marriage to a
foreign baron met with opposition from her family and friends.
(141) Armand Louis de Gontaut, Duc de Biron (1753-1794). Though he
joined the Revolutionists he perished on the scaffold,
(142) Admiral Lord Keppel (1725-1786), second son of second Earl of
Albemarle. He was a Whig in politics, and was First Lord of the
Admiralty under the Rockingham Administration in 1782, and was soon
after created a peer. "I ever looked on Lord Keppell," Burke said,
"as one of the greatest and best men of his age."
(1779,) Avril 18, Sunday night, Paris.(143)--I wrote to you this
morning, as I hope that you will know. This afternoon I find tous
mes projets pour le present sont suspendus. I am obliged to set out
to-morrow for Lyons. It is so unexpected, that it is by much the
greatest embarras I ever felt, and a monstrous exercise of expense
to me. But Mie Mie will be there to-morrow. Les parens ont change
d'avis, and I must go to Lyons to fetch (her). God knows how much
further I would go to conduct her safely, but I was made to believe
there was no occasion for it. I expected her here on Friday next, or
on this day sevennight. Combien de termps faut-il que je sois le
jouet des caprices des autres?
Mrs. Webb also is not in a good state of health for travelling so
far or so fast. I have had a letter from Warner; he has seen the
Baron, who was charged, I find, with a commission to you. . . .
I shall write to you from Lyons; but when I shall hear from you the
Lord knows, and I want to hear how the children do.
Ma patience et ma perseverance sont inepuisables sur ce qui regarde
Mie Mie. Je me croyois tranquillement etabli ici. J'aurai des
entretiens avec la mere, qui ne sont pas toujours composes avec du
miel. "Helas! Rende mi figlia mia." Voila ou j'en reviens. Adieu.
Ayez un peu de pitie de tous mes embarras, qui ne finissent pas.
(143) See Chapter 1: "In the spring it was arranged that the
Marchesa Fragniani should bring Mie Mie to Paris . . ."
(1780,) Sept. 11, Monday morning, 7 o'clock, Matson.--You will
receive a long letter from me to-day; and this will come to you on
Wednesday; so by these repeated courtesies you will see that I have
no repugnance to writing, although you have, and that I am very well
pleased to go on in my old way of scribbling, as long as I am
convinced that it is agreeable to you. But a line now and then is
comfortable, for, as Lady Macbeth says, "the feast grows cold that
is not often cheered," or something of that sort; so a
correspondence is awkwardly maintained, and is a contradiction in
terms when it is on one side only.
At present I am afraid that I shall be particularly tiresome,
because, much against my will, they have filled my head with
Election matters, and will not allow me a moment's time for anything
else. I have no comfort, but that it will be concluded on Thursday,
or Friday, but till then, what I shall suffer from folly and
impertinence, and from everything that is disagreeable, cannot be
described.
There is a party here called the True Blues, who lead Sir A. H. and
I (me) about, as if they had purchased us, to show in a fair. They
cost me, some years ago, twice two thousand pounds, by opposing me,
and now are doing all they can to make me pay four for befriending
me; and these people have given Administration such an idea of their
own omnipotence that I should have never been forgiven, if I had not
yielded to this importunity. I am assured that it will succeed, and
that both Sir A. and myself shall be returned, but my credulity does
not extend to that point. It is very probable, indeed, that by this
effort I may retain my own seat, which I did not care for, but to
attempt the other does as yet appear to me a great piece of
extravagance, considering the party which we have to contend with,
who have had their secrets well kept, and been very industrious for
two years in bringing about this opposition, whereas this scheme of
the Tories has not been taken up with any support, but a fortnight
ago.
My best and ablest friends here are dead; their survivors supine and
superannuated; their connections new Whigs and Reformers, and
Associators; myself grown quite indifferent upon the point; and the
principal Tories, such as the Duke of Beaufort, &c., and those who
would have been active, if they had been desired to be so half a
year ago, never spoke to. Mr. Robinson,(144) in his letters to me,
has always spoke in the plural number, our friend and I; so it is a
scheme adopted by both, I am to suppose, and a hazardous one it is.
But one Member they will have, I believe, and I wish they had fixed
upon any one but me to be their choice.
Sir Andr. goes upon the surest grounds, because I believe that he
will be franked to a certain point, and is sure of a seat in another
place, if not here. He is really a very agreeable man, and seems to
penetrate into the characters of the people he has seen very well.
He entertained me much yesterday with his account of my old friend
the Duke of Newcastle. He speaks of you in terms of the highest
esteem.
We stole away the day before yesterday from our keepers, to dine
here, which was a great relief, but we were jobed (sic) for it at
our return. I get here time enough to go to bed, that is about 11
o'clock, and I do not leave this place till about nine, that is till
Mie Mie and I have breakfasted together.
We have a committee sitting at what is called the New(?) Inn, which
has been built, and never repaired, three hundred years since; and
here this swarm of old Jacobites, with no attachment to Government,
assembles, and for half an hour you would be diverted with their
different sentiments and proposals. There is one who has a knack at
squibbs, as they call it, and he has a table and chair with a pen
and ink before him, to write scurrilous papers, and these are sent
directly to Mr. Raikes. I wish to God that it was all at an end.
What sin, to me unknown,
Dipped me in this? My father's, or my own?
I am very glad that you have so quietly abandoned a contention for
Carlisle. When these things come to us without trouble it is very
well; but when they do not, I do not know one earthly thing that
makes us amends, and it is not once in a hundred times that you are
thanked for it. ...
I am old indeed, as the papers say, and if not trained up in
ministerial corruption, I am used to all other corruption whatever,
and of that of manners in particular; and the little attention that
is paid to what was in my earliest days called common honesty, is
now the most uncommon thing in the world. . . .
Let me have the pleasure of hearing that you are going on well in
Ireland,(145) for the loss of that I should have in being there with
you, which is impossible. Keep yourself, as you can very well do,
within your intrenchments, that no one may toss your hat over the
walls of the Castle. I dread to think what a wrongheaded people you
are to transact business with for the next three years of your life.
But I am less afraid of you from your character, than of another,
because I think that you will admit, at setting out, of no degree of
familiarity from those you are not well acquainted with. I hope that
Eden goes with you. I have a great opinion of his good sense and
scavoir faire.
(144) John Robinson (1727-1802), the son of an Appleby tradesman. He
grew wealthy by marriage and inheritance, and locally influential.
He became member for Westmoreland in 1764. In 1770 he was appointed
Secretary to the Treasury, which office he retained till Lord
North's fall in 1782. He was the business manager of the Ministry,
and had in his hands the distribution of the party funds and
patronage. He was an honest, able, and cool man of affairs, who
regarded politics wholly from a business point of view.
(145) Lord Carlisle had this year been appointed Lord-Lieutenant of
Ireland.