Hatton was his maternal aunt, sister of the last Viscount
Hatton.-C.
Letter 230 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 8, 1764. (page 352)
I am much disappointed, I own, dear Sir, at not seeing you: more
so, as I fear it will be long before I shall, for I think of
going to paris early in February. I ought indeed to go directly,
as the winter does not agree with me here. Without being
positively ill, I am positively not well: about this time of
year, I have little fevers every night, and pains in my breast
and stomach, which bid me repair to a more flannel climate.
These little complaints are already begun, and as soon as affairs
will permit me, I mean to transport them southward.
I am sorry it is out of my power to make the addition you wish to
Mr. Tuer's article: many of the following sheets are printed off,
and there is no inserting any thing now, without shoving the
whole text forward, which you see is impossible. You promised to
bring me a portrait of him: as I shall have four or five new
plates, I can get his head into one of them: will you send it as
soon as you can possibly to my house in Arlington-street; I will
take great care of it-, and return it to you safe.
Letter 231 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 9, 1764. (page 353)
I don't know whether this letter will not reach you, my dear
lord, before one that I sent to you last week by a private hand,
along with one from your brother. I write this by my Lord
Chamberlain's order--you may interpret it as you please, either
as by some new connexion of the Bedford squadron with the
opposition, or as a commission to you, my lord ambassador. As
yet, I believe you had better take it upon the latter foundation,
though the Duke of Bedford has crossed the country from Bath to
Woburn, without coming to town. Be that as it may, here is the
negotiation intrusted to you. You are desired by my Lord Gower
to apply to the gentilhomme de la chambre for leave for
Doberval(694) the dancer, who was here last year, to return and
dance at our Opera forthwith. If the court of France -will
comply with this request, we will send them a discharge in full,
for the Canada bills and the ransom of their prisoners, and we
will permit Monsieur D'Estain to command in the West Indies,
whether we will or not. The city of London must not know a word
of this treaty, for they hate any mortal should be diverted but
themselves, especially by any thing relative to harmony. It is,
I own, betraying my country and my patriotism to be concerned in
a job of this kind. I am sensible that there is not a weaver in
Spitalfields but can dance better than the first performer in the
French Opera; and yet, how could I refuse this commission? Mrs.
George Pitt delivered it to me just now, at Lord Holderness's at
Sion, and as my virtue has not yet been able to root out all my
good-breeding--though I trust it will in time--I could not help
promising that I would write to you--nay, and engaged that you
would undertake it. When I venture, sure you may, who are out of
the reach of a mob!
I believe this letter will go by Monsieur Beaumont. He
breakfasted here t'other morning, and pleased me exceedingly: he
has great spirit and good-humour. It is incredible what pains he
has taken to see. He has seen Oxford, Bath, Blenheim, Stowe,
Jews, Quakers, Mr. Pitt, the Royal Society, the Robinhood, Lord
Chief-Justice Pratt, the Arts-and-Sciences, has dined at
Wildman's, and, I think, with my Lord Mayor, or is to do.
Monsieur de Guerchy is full of your praises; I am to go to
Park-place with him next week, to make your brother a visit.
You know how I hate telling you false news: all I can do, is to
retract as fast as I can. I fear I was too hasty in an article I
sent you in my last, though I then mentioned it only as a report.
I doubt, what we wish in a private family(695) will not be
exactly the event.
The Duke of Cumberland has had a dangerous sore-throat, but is
recovered. In one of the bitterest days that could be felt, he
would go upon the course at Newmarket with the windows of his
landau down. Newmarket-heath, at no time of the year, is placed
under the torrid zone. I can conceive a hero welcoming death, or
at least despising it; but if I was covered with more laurels
than a boar's head at Christmas, I should hate pain, and Ranby,
and an operation. His nephew of York has been at Blenheim, where
they gave him a ball, but did not put themselves to much expense
in dancers; the figurantes were the maid-servants. You will not
doubt my authority, when I tell you my Lady Bute was my
intelligence. I heard to-day, at Sion, of some bitter verses
made at Bath, on both their graces of Bedford. I have not seen
them, nor, if I had them, would I send them to you before they
are in print, which I conclude they will be, for I am sorry to
say, scandalous abuse is not the commodity which either side is
sparing of. You can conceive nothing beyond the epigrams which
have been in the papers, on a pair of doves and a parrot that
Lord Bute has sent to the Princess.(696)
I hear-but this is another of my paragraphs that I am far from
giving you for sterling--that Lord Sandwich is to have the Duke
of Devonshire's garter; Lord Northumberland stands against Lord
Morton,(697) for president of the Royal Society, in the room of
Lord Macclesfield. As this latter article will have no bad
consequences if it should prove true, you may believe it. Earl
Poulet is dead, and Soame, who married Mrs. Naylor's sister.
You will wonder more at what I am going to tell you in the last
place: I am preparing, in earnest, to make you a visit-not next
week, but seriously in February. After postponing it for seven
idle months, you will stare at my thinking of it just after the
meeting Of the Parliament. Why, that is just one of my principal
reasons. I will stay and see the opening and one or two
divisions; the minority will be able to be the majority, or they
will not: if they can, they will not want me, who want nothing of
them: if they cannot, I am sure I can do them no good, and shall
take my leave of them;--I mean always, to be sure, if things do
not turn on a few votes: they shall not call me a deserter. In
every other case, I am so sick of politics, which I have long
detested, that I must bid adieu to them. I have acted the part
by your brother that I thought right. He approves what I have
done, and what I mean to do; so do the few I esteem, for I have
notified my intention; and for the rest of the world, they may
think what they please. In truth, I have a better reason, which
would prescribe my setting out directly, if it was consistent
with my honour. I have a return of those nightly fevers and
pains in my breast, which have come for the three last years -,it
this season: change of air and a better climate are certainly
necessary to me in winter. I shall thus indulge my inclinations
every way. I long to see you and my Lady Hertford, and am
wofully sick of the follies and distractions of this country, to
which I see no end, come what changes will! Now, do you wonder
any longer at my resolution? In the mean time adieu for the
present!
(694) D'Auberval was not only a celebrated dancer, but a composer
of ballets.@.
(695) The reconciliation of the Duke and Duchess of Grafton.-E.
(696) The Princess Dowager of Wales.
(697) Lord Morton was elected.
Letter 232 To The Right Hon. Lady Hervey.
November 10, 1764. (page 355)
Soh! madam, you expect to be thanked, because you have done a
very obliging thing.(698) But I won't thank you, and I won't be
obliged. It is very hard one can't come into your house and
commend any thing, but you must recollect it and send it after
one! I will never dine in your house again; and, when I do, I
will like nothing; and when I do, I will commend nothing; and
when I do, you shan't remember it. You are very grateful indeed
to Providence that give you so good a memory, to stuff it with
nothing but bills of fare of what every body likes to eat and
drink! I wonder you are not ashamed! Do you think there is no
such thing as gluttony of the memory?--You a Christian! A pretty
account you will be able to give of yourself!-Your fine folks in
France may call this friendship and attention, perhaps--but sure,
if I was to go to the devil, it should be for thinking of nothing
but myself, not of others, from morning to night. I would send
back your temptations; but, as I will not be obliged to you for
them, verily I shall retain them to punish you; ingratitude being
a proper chastisement for sinful friendliness. Thine in the
spirit, Pilchard Whitfield.
(698) Lady Hervey, it is supposed, had sent Mr. Walpole some
potted pilchards.
Letter 233 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 25, 1764. (page 356)
Could you be so kind, my dear lord, as to recollect Dr.
Blanchard, after so long an interval. It will make me still more
cautious of giving recommendations to you, instead of drawing
upon the credit you give me. I saw Mr. Stanley last night at the
Opera, who made his court extremely to me by what he said of you.
It was our first opera, and I went to town to hear Manzoli,(699)
who did not quite answer my expectation, though a very fine
singer, but his voice has been younger, and wants the touching
tones of Elisi.(700) However, the audience was not so nice, but
applauded him immoderately, and encored three of his songs. The
first woman was advertised for a perfect beauty, with no voice;
but her beauty and voice are by no means so unequally balanced:
she has a pretty little small pipe, and only a pretty little
small person, and share of beauty, and does not act ill. There
is Tenducci, a moderate tenor, and all the rest intolerable. If
you don't make haste and send us Doberval, I don't know what we
shall do. The dances were not only hissed, as truly they
deserved to be, but the gallery, `a la Drury-lane, cried out, ,
Off! off!" The boxes were empty, for so is the town, to a degree.
The person,(701) who ordered me to write to you for Dobeval, was
reduced to languish in the Duchess of Hamilton's box. My
Duchess(702) does not appear yet--I fear.
Shall I tell you any thing about D'Eon? it is sending coals to
Paris: you must know his story better than me; so in two words
Vergy, his antagonist, is become his convert:(703) has wrote for
him and sworn for him,--nay, has made an affidavit before Judge
Wilmot, that Monsieur de Guerchy had hired him to stab or poison
D'Eon. Did you ever see a man who had less of an assassin than
your pendant, as Nivernois calls it! In short, the story is as
clumsy, as abominable. The King's Bench cited D'Eon to receive
his sentence: he absconds: that court issued a warrant to search
for him and a house in Scotland-yard, where he lodged, was broken
open, but in vain. If there is any thing more, you know it
yourself. This law transaction is buried in another. The Master
of the Rolls, Sir Thomas Clarke, is dead, and Norton succeeds.
Who do you think succeeds him? his predecessor.(704) The house
of York is returned to the house of Lancaster: they could not
keep their white roses pure. I have not a little suspicion that
disappointment has contributed to this faux-pas. Sir Thomas made
a new will the day before he died, and gave his vast fortune, not
to Mr. Yorke, as was expected, but to Lord Macclesfield, to whom,
it is come out, he was natural brother. Norton, besides the
Rolls, which are for lite, and near 3,000 pounds a-year, has a
pension of 1,200 pounds. Mrs. Anne Pitt, too, has got a third
pension: so you see we are not quite such beggars as you
imagined!
Prince William, you know, is Duke of Gloucester, with the same
appanage as the Duke of York. Legrand(705) is his Cadogan;
Clinton(706) and Ligonier(707) his grooms.
Colonel Crawford is dead at Minorca, and Colonel Burton has his
regiment; the Primate (Stone) is better, but I suppose, from his
distemper, which is a dropsy in his breast, irrecoverable. Your
Irish queen(708) exceeds the English Queen, and follows her with
seven footmen before her chair--well! what trumperies I tell you!
but I cannot help it--Wilkes is outlawed, D'Eon run away, and
Churchill dead--till some new genius arises, you must take up
with the operas, and pensions, and seven footmen. But patience!
your country is seldom sterile long.
George Selwyn has written hither his lamentations about that
Cossack Princess. I am glad of it, for I did but hint it to my
Lady Rervey, (though I give you my word, without quoting you,
which I never do upon the most trifling occurrences,) and I was
cut very short, and told it was impossible. A la bonne heure!
Pray, who is Lord March(709) going to marry? We hear so, but
nobody named. I had not heard of your losses at whisk; but if I
had, should not have been terrified: you know whisk gives no
fatal ideas to any body that has been at Arthur's and seen
hazard, Quinze, and Trente-et-Quarante. I beg you will prevail
on the King of France to let Monsieur de Richelieu give as many
balls and f`etes as he pleases, if it is only for my diversion.
This journey to Paris is the last colt's tooth I intend ever to
cut, and I insist upon being prodigiously entertained, like a
Sposa Monacha, whom they cram with this world for a twelvemonth,
before she bids adieu to it for ever. I think, when I shut
myself up in my convent here, it will not be with the same
regret. I have for some time been glutted with the world, and
regret the friends that drop away every day; those, at least,
with whom I came into the world, already begin to make it appear
a great void. Lord Edgecumbe, Lord Waldegrave, and the Duke of
Devonshire leave a very perceptible chasm. At the Opera last
night, I felt almost ashamed to be there. Except Lady Townshend,
Lady Schaub, Lady Albemarle, and Lady Northumberland, I scarce
saw a creature whose debut there I could not remember: nay, the
greater part were maccaronies. You see I am not likely, like my
brother Cholmondeley (who, by the way, was there too), to totter
into a solitaire at threescore. The Duke de Richelieu(710) is
one of the persons I am curious to see--oh! am I to find Madame
de Boufflers, Princess of Conti? Your brother and Lady Aylesbury
are to be in town the day after to-morrow to hear Manzoli, and on
their way to Mrs. Cornwallis, who is acting l'agonisante; but
that would be treason to Lady Ailesbury. I was at Park-place
last week: the bridge is finished, and a noble object.
I shall come to you as soon as ever I have my cong`e, which I
trust will be early in February. I will let you know the moment
I can fix my time, because I shall beg you to order a small
lodging to be taken for me at no great distance from your palace,
and only for a short time, because, if I should like France
enough to stay some months I can afterwards accommodate myself to
my mind. I should like to be so near you that I could see you
whenever it would not be inconvenient to you, and without being
obliged to that intercourse with my countrymen, which I by no
means design to cultivate. If I leave the best company here, it
shall not be for the worst. I am getting out of the world, not
coming into it, and shall therefore be most indifferent about
their acquaintance, or what they think of my avoiding it. I come
to see you and my Lady Hertford, to escape from politics, and to
amuse myself with seeing, which I intend to do with all my eyes.
I abhor show, am not passionately fond of literati, don't want to
know people for a few months, and really think of nothing but
some comfortable hours with you, and indulging my curiosity.
Excuse almost a page about myself, but it was to tell you how
little trouble I hope to give you.
(699) "Manzoli's voice was the most powerful and voluminous
soprano that had been heard on our stage since the time of
Farinelli; and his manner of singing was grand and full of taste
and dignity. The lovers of music in London were more unanimous
in approving his voice and talents, than those of any other
singer within my memory." Burney.--E.
(700) Elisi, though a great singer, was a still greater actor:
his figure was large and majestic, and he had a great compass of
voice." Ibid.-E.
(701) Probably Mrs. George Pitt.-C.
(702) Of Grafton.
(703) This is altogether a very mysterious affair: M. de Vergy
was the cause of D'Eon's violent behaviour at Lord Halifax's (see
ant`e, p. 254, letter 181,); he afterwards took D'Eon's part, and
had the effrontery and the infamy to say, that he was suborned by
the French ministry to quarrel with and ruin D'Eon.-C.
(704) Mr. Charles Yorke; but we shall see, in the next letter,
that the fact on which all this imputation was built was
false.-C.
(705) Edward Legrand, Esq., treasurer to the Duke of Gloucester;
as the Hon. C. S. Cadogan was to the Duke of York.-E.
(706) Colonel Henry Clinton, afterwards commander-in-chief in
America, and K. B.-E.
(707) Colonel Edward Ligonier, aide-de-camp to the King.-E.
(708) The Countess of Northumberland.-E.
(709) James, third Earl of March, a lord of the bedchamber, who
subsequently, in 1778, succeeded to the dukedom of queensberry,
and was the last of that title.-E.
(710) The celebrated Mareschal Duc de Richelieu: he was born in
1696, and died in 1788. The whole of his long life was full of
adventures so extraordinary as to justify Mr. Walpole's
curiosity. The most remarkable, however, of all, had not at this
period occurred. In the year 1780, and at the age of
eighty-four, he married his third wife, and was severely
afflicted that a miscarriage of the Duchess destroyed his hopes
of another Cardinal de Richelieu; for to that eminence he
destined the child of his age. His biographer adds, that the
Duchess was an affectionate and attentive wife, notwithstanding
that her octogenarian husband tried her patience by reiterated
infidelities.-C.
Letter 234 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, Dec. 3, 1764. (page 358)
I love to contradict myself as fast as I can when I have told you
a lie, lest you should take me for a chambermaid, or Charles
Townshend. But how can I help it? Is this a consistent age?
How should I know people's minds, if they don't know them
themselves? In short, Charles Yorke is not attorney-general, nor
Norton master of the rolls. A qualm came across the first, and
my Lord lorn across the second, who would not have Norton in his
court. I cannot imagine why; it is so gentle, amiable, honest a
being! But I think the Chancellor says, Norton does not
understand equity, so he remains prosecutor-general. Yorke would
have taken the rolls, if they would have made it much more
considerable; but as they would not, he has recollected that it
will be clever for one Yorke to have the air of being
disinterested, so he only disgraces himself,(711) and takes a
patent of precedence over the Solicitor-General:--but do not
depend upon this--he was to have kissed hands on Friday, but has
put it off till Wednesday next--between this and that, his Virtue
may have another fit. The court ridicule him even more than the
opposition. What diverts me most, is, that the pious and dutiful
house of Yorke, who cried and roared over their father's memory,
now throw all the blame on him, and say, he forced them into
opposition--amorent nummi expellas furc`a, licet usque
recurret.(712) Sewell(713) is master of the rolls.
Well! I may grow a little more explicit to you; besides, this
letter goes to you by a private hand. I gave you little hints,
to prepare you for the separation of the house of Grafton. It is
so, and I am heartily sorry for it. Your brother is chosen by
the Duke, and General Ellison by the Duchess, to adjust the
terms, which are not yet settled. The Duke takes all on himself,
and assigns no reason but disagreement of tempers. He leaves
Lady Georgina' with her mother, who, he says, is the properest
person to educate her, and Lord Charles, till he is old enough to
be taken from the women. This behaviour is noble and generous--
still I wish they could have agreed!
This is not the only parting that makes a noise. His grace of
Kingston(714) has taken a pretty milliner from Cranborn-alley,
and carried her to Thoresby. Miss Chudleigh, at the Princess's
birthday on Friday, beat her side till she could not help having
a real pain in it, that people might inquire what was the matter;
on which she notified a pleurisy, and that she is going to the
baths of Carlsbad, in Bohemia. I hope she will not meet with the
Bulgares that demolished the Castle of Thundertentronck.(715
y) My Lady Harrington's robbery is at last come to light, and
was committed by the porter,(716) who is in Newgate.
Lady Northumberland (who, by the way, has added an eighth footman
since I wrote to you last) told Me this Morning that the Queen is
very impatient to receive an answer from Lady Hertford, about
Prince George's letters coming through your hands, as she desired
they might.
A correspondence between Legge and Lord Bute about the Hampshire
election is published to-day, by the express desire of the
former, When he was dying.(717) He showed the letters to me in
the spring, and I then did not-think them so strong or important
as he did. I am very clear it does no honour to his memory to
have them printed now. It implies want of resolution to publish
them in his lifetime, and that he died with more resentment than
I think one should care to own. I would Send them to you, but I
know Dr. Hunter takes care of such things. I hope he will send
you, too, the finest piece that I think has been written for
liberty since Lord Somers. It is called an Inquiry into the late
Doctrine on Libels, and is said to be written by one
Dunning,(718) a lawyer lately started up, who makes a great
noise. He is a sharp thorn in the sides of Lord Mansfield and
Norton, and, in truth, this book is no plaster to their pain. It
is bitter, has much unaffected wit, and is the Only tract that
ever made me understand law.(719) If Dr. Hunter does not send
you these things, I suppose he will convey them himself, as I
hear there will be a fourteenth occasion for him. Charles
Fitzroy says, Lord Halifax told Mrs. Crosby that you are to go to
Ireland. I said he l(nows you are not the most communicative
person in the world, and that you had not mentioned it--nor do I
now, by way of asking impertinent questions; but I thought you
would like to know what was said.
I return to Strawberry Hill to-morrow, but must return on
Thursday, as there is to be something at the Duke of York's that
evening, for which I have received a card. He and his brother
are most exceedingly civil and good-humoured--but I assure you
every place is like one of Shakspeare's plays:--Flourish, enter
the Duke of York, Gloucester, and attendants. Lady Irwin(720)
died yesterday.
Past eleven.
I have just come from a little impromptu ball at Mrs. Ann Pitt's.
I told you she had a new pension, but did I tell you it was five
hundred pounds a year? It was entertaining to see the Duchess of
Bedford and Lady Bute with their respective forces, drawn up on
different sides of the room; the latter's were most numerous. My
Lord Gower seemed very willing to promote a parley between the
two armies. It would have made you shrug up your shoulders at
dirty humanity, to see the two Miss Pelhams sit neglected,
without being asked to dance. You may imagine this could not
escape me, who have passed through the several grradations in
which Lady Jane Stuart and Miss Pelham are and have been; but I
fear poor Miss Pelham feels hers a little more than ever I
did.(721) The Duke of York's is to be a dinner and a ball for
Princess Amelia.
Lady Mary Bowlby(722) gave me a commission, a genealogical one,
from my Lady Hertford, which I will execute to the best of my
power. I am glad my part is not to prove eighteen generations Of
nobility for the Bruces. I fear they have made some
mes-alliances since the days of King Robert-at least, the present
Scotch nobility are not less apt to go into Lombard-street than
the English.
My Lady Suffolk was at the ball; I asked the Prince of Masserano
whom he thought the oldest woman in the room, as I concluded he
would not guess she was. He did not know my reason for asking,
and would not tell me. At last, he said very cleverly, his own
wife.
Mr. Sarjent has sent me this evening from Les Consid`erations sur
les Moeurs," and "Le Testament Politique,"(723) for which I give
you, my dear lord, a thousand thanks. Good night!
P.S. Manzoli(724) has come a little too late, or I think he would
have as many diamond watches and snuff-boxes as Farinelli.
(711) We can venture to state, that there never was any idea of
Mr. Yorke's accepting the rolls; and it is believed that they
never were offered to him; certainly, be himself never thought of
taking that office. The patent of precedence which he did
accept, was an arrangement, which, though convenient for the
conduct of the business in court, could give no addition of
either rank or profit to a person in Mr. Yorke's circumstances.
The facts were as follow: when Mr. Yorke, in 1756, was made
solicitor-general, he was not a King's counsel; he succeeded to
be attorney-general, but on his resignation in October 1763, he
lost the precedence which his offices had given him, and he
returned to the outer bar and a stuff gown. It was a novel and
anomalous sight to see a man who had led the Chancery bar so
long, and filled the greatest office of the law, retire to
comparatively, so humble a rank in the court in which he might be
every day expected to preside; and accordingly, on his first
appearance after his resignation, the Chancellor, with the
concurrence (indeed, it has been said on the suggestion) of the
bar, called to Mr. Yorke, out of his turn, next after the King's
counsel: this irregular pre-audience had lasted above a year,
when it was thought more proper and more convenient for the
business of the court to give Mr. Yorke that formal patent of
precedence, the value and circumstances of which Mr Walpole so
much misunderstands. We have heard from old lawyers, that Mr.
Yorke's business at this period was more extensive and less
lucrative than any other man ever possessed in Chancery, and we
find no less than four other barristers had at this time patents
of precedence.-C.
(712) The reader is requested to look back to p. 272, letter 188,
where he will find Mr. Walpole himself stating--long before Lord
Hardwickc's death, and even before his illness--that "the old
Chancellor was violent against the court, and that Mr. Charles
Yorke had resigned, contrary to his own; and Lord Royston's
inclination." The fact was in no way true; for it is well known
that there never was the slightest difference of opinion between
the old Lord Hardwicke and his son Charles upon their political
conduct.-C.
(713) Sir Thomas Sewell, Knight.-E.
(714) Evelyn, last Duke of Kingston: he soon after married Miss
Chudleigh, who was supposed to have been already married to Mr.
Augustus Hervey, afterwards Earl of Bristol.-C.
(715) An allusion to a loose incident in Voltaire's Candide.
(716) See ant`e, p. 260, letter 184.
(717) Mr. Legge had, in 1759, while chancellor of the exchequer
to George II. been requested by Lord Bute, in the name of the
Prince of Wales, to pledge himself to support a Mr. Stuart at the
next election for Hampshire: this Mr. Legge, for very sufficient
reasons, refused to do; and for this refusal (as he thought, and
wished to persuade the public) he was turned out of office at the
accession of the young King.-C.
(718) Mr. Dunning soon rose into great practice and eminence; in
1767 he was made solicitor-general, which office he held till
1770. He then made a considerable figure in the opposition, till
the accession to the ministry, in 1782, of his friend Lord
Shelburne, when he was created Lord Ashburton; he died next
year.-C.
(719) Mr. Dunning's pamphlet was intituled "Inquiry into the
Doctrine lately propagated concerning Juries, Libels, etc. upon
the principles of the Law and the Constitution." Gray, in a
letter to Walpole of the 30th, thus characterizes it:--"Your
canonical book I have been reading with great satisfaction. He
speaketh as one having authority. If Englishmen have any
feeling, methinks they must feel now; and if the ministry have
any feeling (Whom nobody will suspect of insensibility) they must
cut off the author's ears; for if is in all the forms a most
wicked libel. Is the old man and the lawyer put on, or is it
real? or has some real lawyer furnished a good part of the
materials, and another person employed them? This I guess."
Works, vol. iv. p. 40.-E.
(720) Anne Howard, daughter of the third Earl of Carlisle, and
widow of the third Viscount Irwin. She was lady of the
bedchamber to the Princess Dowager. Mr. Park has introduced her
into his edition of the Noble Authors.-C.
(721) Mr. Walpole means that he was courted during his father's
power, and neglected after his fall, as the daughters of a
succeeding prime minister, Mr. Henry Pelham, now were; but as
Lady Jane Stuart was but two-and-twenty years old, and Miss
Pelham was thirty-six, we may account for the preference given to
her ladyship at a ball, without any reference to the meanness and
political time-serving of mankind. Both the Misses Pelham died
unmarried.-C.
(722) Sister of the Duke of Montagu.
(723) A French forgery called "Le Testament Politique du
Chevalier Robert Walpole," of which Mr. Walpole drew up an
exposure, which is to be found in the second volume of his
works.-C.
(724) The enthusiasm, however, ran pretty high, as we learn from
the following passage, in one of the periodical papers of the
day:--"Signor Manzoli, the Italian singer at the Haymarket, got
no less, after paying all charges of every kind, by his benefit
last week (March, 1765), than 1000 guineas. This added to a sum
of 1,500 which he has already saved, and the remaining profits of
the season, is surely an undoubted proof of British generosity.
One particular lady complimented the singer with a 200 pound bill
for a ticket on that occasion."-C.''
Letter 235 To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, Dec. 16, 1764. (page 362)
As I have not read in the paper that you died lately at
Greatworth, in Northamptonshire, nor have met with any Montagu or
Trevor in mourning, I conclude you are living: I send this,
however, to inquire, and if you should happen to be departed,
hope your executor will be so kind as to burn it. Though you do
not seem to have the same curiosity about my existence, you may
gather from my handwriting that I am still in being; which being
perhaps full as much as you want to know of me, I will trouble
you with no farther particulars about myself--nay, nor about any
body else; your curiosity seeming to be pretty much the same
about all the world. News there are certainly none; nobody is
even dead, as the Bishop of Carlisle told me to-day, which I
repeat to you in general, though I apprehend in his own mind he
meant no possessor of a better bishopric.
If you like to know the state of the town, here it is. In the
first place, it is very empty; in the next, there are more
diversions than the week will hold. A charming Italian opera,
with no dances and no company, at least on Tuesdays; to supply
which defect, the subscribers are to have a ball and supper--a
plan that in my humble opinion will fill the Tuesdays and empty
the Saturdays. At both playhouses are woful English operas;
which, however, fill better than the Italian, patriotism being
entirely confined to our ears: how long the sages of the law may
leave us those I cannot say. Mrs Cornelis, apprehending the
future assembly at Almack's, has enlarged her vast room, and hung
it with blue satin, and another with yellow satin; but Almack's
room, which is to be ninety feet long, proposes to swallow up
both hers, as easy as Moses's rod gobbled down those Of the
magicians. Well, but there are more joys; a dinner and assembly
every Tuesday at the Austrian minister's; ditto on Thursdays at
the Spaniard's; ditto on Wednesdays and Sundays at the French
ambassador's; besides Madame de Welderen's on Wednesdays, Lady
Harrington's Sundays, and occasional private mobs at my lady
Northumberland's. Then for the mornings, there are lev`ees and
drawing-rooms without end. Not to mention the maccaroni-club,
which has quite absorbed Arthur's; for you know old fools will
hobble after young ones. Of all these pleasures, I prescribe
myself a very small pittance,--my dark corner in my own box at
the Opera, and now and then an ambassador, to keep my French
going till my journey to Paris. Politics are gone to sleep, like
a paroli at pharaoh, though there is the finest tract lately
published that ever was written, called an Inquiry into the
Doctrine of Libels. It would warm your old Algernon blood; but
for what any body cares, might as well have been written about
the wars of York and Lancaster. The thing most in fashion is my
edition of Lord Herbert's Life; people are mad after it, I
believe because only two hundred were printed; and, by the
numbers that admire it, I am convinced that if I had kept his
lordship's counsel, very few would have found out the absurdity
of it. The caution with which I hinted at its extravagance, has
passed with several for approbation, and drawn on theirs. This
is nothing new to me; it is when one laughs out at their idols
that one angers people. I do not wonder now that Sir Philip
Sydney was the darling hero, when Lord Herbert, who followed him
so close and trod in his steps, is at this time of day within an
ace of rivalling him. I wish I had let him; it was contradicting
one of my own maxims, which I hold to be very just; that it is
idle to endeavour to cure the world of any folly, unless We Could
cure it of being foolish.
Tell me whether I am likely to see you before I go to Paris,
which will be early in February. I hate you for being so
indifferent about me. I live in the world, and yet love nothing,
care a straw for nothing, but two or three old friends, that I
have loved these thirty years. You have buried yourself with
half a dozen parsons and isquires, and Yet never cast a thought
upon those you have always lived with. You come to town for two
Months, grow tired in six weeks, hurry away, and then one hears
no more of you till next winter. I don't want you to like the
world, I like it no more than you; but I stay awhile in it,
because while one sees it one laughs at it, but when one gives it
up one grows angry with it; and I hold it to be much wiser to
laugh than to be out of humour. You cannot imagine how much ill
blood this perseverance has cured me of; I used to say to myself,
"Lord! this person is so bad, that person is so bad, I hate
them." I have now found out that they are all pretty much alike,
and I hate nobody. Having never found you out, but for integrity
and sincerity, I am much disposed to persist in a friendship with
you; but if I am to be at all the pains of keeping it up, I shall
imitate my neighbours (I don't mean those at next door, but in
the Scripture sense of my neighbour, any body,) and say "That is
a very good man, but I don't care a farthing for him." Till I
have taken my final resolution on that head, I am yours most
cordially.
Letter 236 To George Montagu, Esq.
Christmas-eve, 1764. (page 364)
You are grown so good, and I delight so much in your letters when
you please to write them, that though it is past midnight, and I
am to go out of town tomorrow morning, I must thank you.
I shall put your letter to Rheims into the foreign post with a
proper penny, and it will go much safer and quicker than if I
sent it to Lord Hertford, for his letters lie very often till
enough are assembled to compose a jolly caravan. I love your
good brother John, as I always do, for keeping your birthday; I,
who hate ceremonious customs, approve of what I know comes so
much from the heart as all he and you do and say. The General
surely need not ask leave to enclose letters to me.
There is neither news, nor any body to make it, but the clergy,
who are all gaping after or about the Irish mitre,(725) which
your old antagonist has quitted. Keene has refused it; Newton
hesitates, and they think will not accept it; Ewer pants for it,
and many of the bench I believe do every thing but pray for it.
Goody Carlisle hopes for Worcester if it should be vacated, but I
believe would not dislike to be her Grace.
This comes with your muff, my Anecdotes of Painting, the fine
pamphlet on libels, and the Castle of Otranto, which came out
to-day. All this will make some food for your fireside. Since
you will not come and see me before I go, I hope not to be gone
before you come, though I am not quite in charity with you about
it. Oh! I had forgot; don't lend your Lord Herbert, it will grow
as dirty as the street; and as there are so few, and They have
been so lent about, and so dirtied, the few clean copies will be
very valuable. What signifies whether they read it or not?
there will be a new bishop, or a new separation, or a new
something or other, that will do just as well, before you can
convey your copy to them; and seriously, if you lose it, I have
not another to give you; and I would fain have you keep my
editions together, as you had the complete set. As I want to
make you an economist of my books, I will inform you that this
second' set of Anecdotes sells for three guineas. Adieu!
P. S. I send you a decent smallish muff, that you may put in your
pocket, and it costs but fourteen shillings.
(7250 Dr. John Stone, Archbishop of Armagh and primate of all
Ireland, died on the 19th of December 1764.-E.
Letter 237 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, Jan. 10, 1765. (page 364)
I should prove a miserable prophet or almanac maker, for my
predictions are seldom verified. I thought the present session
likely to be a very supine one, but unless the evening varies
extremely from the morning, it will be a tempestuous day--and yet
it was a very southerly and calm wind that began the hurricane.
The King's Speech was so tame, that, as George Montagu said of
the earthquake, you might have stroked it.(726) Beckford (whom I
certainly did not mean by the gentle gale) touched on
Draper'S(727) Letter about the Manilla money. George Grenville
took up the defence of the Spaniards, though he said he only
stated their arguments. This roused your brother, who told
Grenville he had adopted the reasoning of Spain; and showed the
fallacy of their pretensions. He exhorted every body to support
the King's government, "which I," said he, "ill-used as I have
been, wish and mean to support-not that of ministers, when I see
the laws and independence of Parliament struck at in the most
profligate manner." You may guess how deeply this wounded.
Grenville took it to himself, and asserted that his own life and
character were as pure, uniform, and little profligate as your
brother's. The silence of the House did not seem to ratify this
declaration. Your brother replied with infinite spirit, that he
certainly could not have meant Mr. Grenville, for he did not take
him for the minister-(I do not believe this was the least
mortifying part)--that he spoke of public acts that were in every
body's mouth, as the warrants, and the disgrace thrown on the
army by dismissions for parliamentary reasons; that for himself
he was an open enemy, and detested men who smiled in his face and
stabbed him I do not believe he meant this personally, but
unfortunately the whole House applied it to Mr. Grenville's
grimace); that for his own disgrace, he did not know where to
impute it, for every minister had disavowed it. It was to the
warrants, he said, he owed what had happened; he had fallen for
voting against them, but had he had ten regiments, he would have
parted with them all to obey his conscience; that he now could
fall no lower, and would speak as he did then, and would not be
hindered nor intimidated from speaking the language of
Parliament. Grenville answered, that he had never avowed nor
disavowed the measure of dismissing Mr. Conway--(he disavowed it
to Mr. Harris,)(728) that he himself had been turned out for
voting against German connexions; that he had never approved
inquiring into the King's prerogative on that head-(I can name a
person who can repeat volumes of what he has said on the
subject,) and that the King had as much right to dismiss military
as civil officers, and then drew a ridiculous parallel betwixt
the two, in which he seemed to give himself the rank of a civil
lieutenant-general. This warmth was stopped by Augustus Hervey,
who spoke to order, and called for the question; but young T.
Townshend confirmed, that the term profligacy was applied by all
mankind to the conduct on the warrants. It was not the most
agreeable circumstance to Grenville, that Lord Granby closed the
debate, by declaring how much he disapproved the dismission of
officers for civil reasons, and the more, as he was persuaded it
would not prevent officers from acting according to their
consciences; and he spoke of your brother with many encomiums.
Sir W. Meredith then notified his intention of taking up the
affair of the warrants on Monday se'nnight. Mr. Pitt was not
there, nor Lord Temple in the House of Lords; but the latter is
ill. I should have told you that Lord Warkworth(729) and Thomas
Pitt(730) moved our addresses; as Lord Townshend and Lord
Botetourt did those of the Lords. Lord Townshend said, though it
was grown unpopular to praise the King, yet he should, and he was
violent against libels; forgetting that the most ill-natured
branch of them, caricatures, his own invention, are left off.
Nobody thought it worth while to answer him, at which he was much
offended.
So much for the opening of Parliament, which does not promise
serenity. Your brother is likely to make a very great figure:
they have given him the warmth he wanted, and may thank
Themselves for it. Had Mr. Grenville taken my advice, @e had
avoided an opponent that he will find a tough one, and must
already repent having drawn upon him.
With regard to yourself, my dear lord, you may be sure I did not
intend to ask you any impertinent question. You requested me to
tell you whatever I heard said about you; you was talked of for
Ireland, and are still; and Lord Holland within this week told
me, that you had solicited it warmly. Don't think yourself under
any obligation to reply to me on these occasions. It is to
comply with your desires that I repeat any thing I hear of you,
not to make use of them to draw any explanation from you, to
which I have no title; nor have I, you know, any troublesome
curiosity. I mentioned Ireland with the same indifference that I
tell you that the town here has bestowed Lady Anne,(731) first on
Lord March, and now on Stephen Fox(732)--tattle not worth your
answering.
You have lost another of your Lords Justices, Lord Shannon, of
whose death an account came yesterday.
Lady Harrington's porter was executed yesterday, and went to
Tyburn with a white cockade in his hat, as an emblem of his
innocence.
All the rest Of My news I exhausted in my letter to Lady Hertford
three days ago. The King's Speech, as I told her it was to do,
announced the contract between Princess Caroline(733) and the
Prince Royal of Denmark. I don't think the tone the session has
taken will expedite my visit to you; however, I shall be able to
judge when a few of the great questions are over. The American
affairs are expected to occasion much discussion; but as I
understand them no more than Hebrew, they will throw no
impediment in my way. Adieu! my dear lord; you will probably
hear no more politics these ten days. Yours ever, Horace
Walpole.
Friday.
The debate on the warrants is put off to the Tuesday; therefore,
as it will probably be so long a day, I shall not be able to give
you an account of it till this day fortnight.
(726) Gray, in a letter to Dr. Wharton, written in July 1764, in
giving an account of an illness, says, "Towards the end of my
confinement, during which I lived on nothing, came, the gout in
one foot, but so tame you might have stroked it." To this
passage, the learned editor of the last edition of his works has
sub-joined this note:--"I have mentioned several coincidences of
thought and expression of this kind in the letters of Gray and
Walpole, which I conceived to be a kind of common property; the
reader, indeed, will recognise much of that species of humour
which distinguishes Gray's correspondence in the letters of
Walpole, inferior, I think, in its comic force; sometimes
deviating too far from propriety in search of subjects for the
display of its talent, and not altogether free from affectation."
Vol. iv. p. 33.-E.
(727) Sir William Draper, K.B. best known by his controversy with
Junius. The letter here alluded to was entitled, "An Answer to
the Spanish Arguments for Refusing the Payment of the Ransom
Bills."-E.
(728) General Conway's brother-in-law.-E.
(729) Afterwards Duke of Northumberland-E.
(730) Afterwards Lord Camelford.-E.
(731) ant`e, p. 299, letter 196.
(732) Second son of the first Earl of Ilchester-E.
(733) The unhappy Queen of Denmark, who was afterwards divorced
and exiled.-E.
Letter 238 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Sunday, Jan. 20, 1765. (page 367)
Do you forgive me, if I write to you two or three days sooner
than I said I would. Our important day on the warrants is put
off for a week, in compliment to Mr. Pitt's gout--can it resist
such attention I shall expect in it a prodigious quantity of
black ribands. You have heard, to be sure, of the great fortune
that is bequeathed to him by a Sir William Pynsent, an old man of
near ninety, who quitted the world on the peace of Utrecht; and,
luckily for Mr. Pitt, lived to be as angry with its pendant, the
treaty of Paris. I did not send you the first report, which
mounted it to an enormous sum: I think the medium account is two
thousand pounds a-year, and thirty thousand pounds in money.
This Sir William Pynsent, whose fame, like an aloe, did not blow
till near an hundred, was a singularity. The scandalous
chronicle of Somersetshire talks terribly of his morals(734)
*****. Lady North was nearly related to Lady Pynsent, which
encouraged Lord North to flatter himself that Sir William's
extreme propensity to him would recommend even his wife's
parentage for heirs; but the uncomeliness of Lady North, and a
vote my lord gave against the Cider-bill, offended the old
gentleman so much, that he burnt his would-be heir in effigy.
How will all these strange histories sound at Paris!
This post, I suppose, will rain letters to my Lady Hertford. on
her death and revival. I was dreadfully alarmed at it for a
moment; my servant was so absurd as to wake me, and bid me not be
frightened--an excellent precaution! Of all moments, that between
sleeping and waking is the most subject to terror. I started up,
and my first thought was to send for Dr. Hunter; but, in two
minutes, I recollected that it was impossible to be true, as your
porter had the very day before been with me to tell me a courier
was arrived from you, was to return that evening. Your poor son
Henry, whom you will doat upon for it, was not tranquillized so
soon. He instantly sent away a courier to your brother, who
arrived in the middle of the night. Lady Milton,(735) Lady
George SackVille,(736) and I, agreed this evening to tell my Lady
Hertford, that we ought to have believed the news, and to have
imputed it to the gaming rakehelly life my lady leads at Paris,
which scandalizes all us prudes, her old friends. In truth, I
have not much right to rail at any body to.- living in a
hurricane. I found myself with a violent cold on Wednesday, and
till then had not once reflected on all the hot and cold climates
I have passed through the day before: I had been at the Duke of
Cumberland's levee; then at the Princess Amelia's drawing-room;
from thence to a crowded House of Commons; to dinner at your
brother's; to the Opera; to Madame Seillern's; to Arthur's; and
to supper at Mrs. George Pitt's;--it is scandalous; but, who does
less? The Duke looked much better than I expected; is gone to
Windsor, and mends daily.
It was Lady Harcourt's(737) death that occasioned the confusion,
and our dismay. She died at a Colonel Oughton's; such a small
house, that Lord Harcourt has been forced to take their family
into his own house. Poor Lady Digby(738) is dead too, of a
fever, and was with child. They were extremely happy, and -her
own family adored her. My sister has begged me to ask a favour,
that will put you to a little trouble, though only for a moment.
It is, if you will be so good to order one of your servants when
you have done with the English newspapers, to put them in a
cover, and send them to Mr. Churchill, au Chateau de Nubecourt,
pr`es de Clermont, en Argone; they cannot get a gazette that does
not cost them six livres.
Monday evening.
We have had a sort of a day in the House of Commons. The
proposition for accepting the six hundred and seventy thousand
pounds for the French prisoners passed easily. Then came the
Navy: Dowdeswell, in a long and very sensible speech, proposed to
reduce the number of sailors to ten thousand. He was answered
by--Charles Townshend--oh! yes!--are you surprised? Nobody here
was: no, not even at his assertion, that he had always applauded
the peace, though the whole House and the whole town knew that,
on the Preliminaries, he came down prepared to speak against
them; but that on Mr. Pitt's retiring, he plucked up courage, and
spoke for them. Well, you want to know what place he is to have-
-so does he too. I don't want to know what place, but that he
has some one; for I am sure he will always do most hurt to the
side on which he professes to be; consequently, I wish him with
the administration, and I wish so well to both sides, that I
would have him more decried, if that be possible, than he is.
Colonel Barr`e spoke against Dowdeswell's proposal, though not
setting himself up at auction, like Charles, nor friendly to the
ministry, but temperately and sensibly. There was no division.
You know my opinion of Charles Townshend is neither new nor
singular. When Charles Yorke left us,(739) I hoped for this
event, and my wish then slid into this couplet:
To The Administration.
One Charles, who ne'er was ours, you've got-'tis true:
To make the grace complete, take t'other too.
The favours I ask of them, are not difficult to grant. Adieu! my
dear lord. Yours ever, H. W.
Tuesday, 4 o'clock.
I had sealed my letter and given it to my sister, who sets out
to-morrow, and will put it into the post at Calais; but having
received yours by the courier from Spain, I must add a few words.
You may be sure I shall not mention a tittle of what you say to
me. Indeed, if you think it necessary to explain to me, I shall
be more cautious Of telling you what I hear. If I had any
curiosity, I should have nothing to do but to pretend I had heard
some report, and so draw from you what you might not have a mind
to mention: I do tell you when I hear any, for your information,
but insist on your not replying. The vice-admiral of America is
a mere feather; but there is more substance in the notion of the
Viceroy's quitting Ireland. Lord Bute and George Grenville are
so ill together, that decency is scarce observed between their
adherents: and the moment the former has an opportunity or
resolution enough, he will remove the latter, and place his
son-in-law(740) in the treasury. This goes so far, that Charles
Townshend, who is openly dedicated to Grenville, may possibly
find himself disappointed, and get no place at last. However, I
rejoice that we have got rid of him. It will tear up all
connexion between him and your brother, root and branch: a
circumstance you will not be more sorry for than I am. In the
mean time, the opposition is so staunch that, I think, after the
three questions on Warrants, DismisSion of officers, and the
Manilla-money, I shall be at liberty to come to you, when I shall
have a great deal to tell you. If Charles Townshend gets a
place, Lord George Sackville expects another, by the same
channel, interest, and connexion; but if Charles may be
disappointed himself, what may a man be who trusts to him?
Adieu!
(734) The original contains an imputation against Sir W. Pynsent,
which, if true, would induce us to suspect him of a disordered
mind.-C.
(735) Lady Caroline Sackville, daughter of the Duke of Dorset,
married, in 1742, to the first Lord Milton.-E.
(736) Diana, second daughter of J. Sambrook, Esq.-E.
(737) Rebecca, daughter of Charles Le Bas, Esq., wife of the
first Earl of Harcourt.-E.
(738) Elizabeth Fielding, niece to the fourth Earl of Denbigh,
and wife of Henry, first Lord Digby.-E.
(739) It is remarkable enough, that the epigram which Mr. Walpole
thus introduces, admits that Charles Yorke had never joined them,
and therefore could not be said to have left them.-C.
(740) There is some obscurity here: Lord Warkworth (afterwards
Duke of Northumberland), who had lately married Lord Bute's third
daughter, was, at this period, a very young man, little known but
for his attachment to his profession--the army, and the idea of
his being placed at the head of the treasury must have been
absurd. His father, Lord Northumberland, indeed, had been spoken
of for that office: and, perhaps, Mr. Walpole, in his
epigrammatic way, has taken this mode of explaining the motive
which might have induced Lord Bute to advance his son-in-law's
father.-C.
Letter 239 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, Jan. 27, 1765. (page 370)
The brother of your brother's neighbour, Mr. Freeman, who is
going to Paris, and I believe will not be sorry to be introduced
to you, gives me an opportunity which I cannot resist, of sending
you a private line or two, though I wrote you a long letter,
which my sister was to put into the post at Calais two or three
days ago.
We had a very remarkable day on Wednesday in the House of
Commons--very glorious for us, and very mortifying to the
administration, especially to the principal performer, who was
severely galled by our troops, and abandoned by his own. The
business of the day was the Army, and, as nothing was expected,
the House was not full. The very circumstance of nothing being
expected, had encouraged Charles Townshend to soften a little
what had passed on Monday; he grew profuse of' his whispers and
promises to us, and offered your brother to move the question on
the Dismission of officers: the debate began; Beckford fell foul
on the dismissions, and dropped some words on America. Charles,
who had placed himself again under the wing of Grenville, replied
on American affairs; but totally forgot your brother. Beckford,
in his boisterous Indian style, told Charles, that on a single
idea he had poured forth a diarrhoea of words. He could not
stand it, and in two minutes fairly stole out of the House. This
battery being dismounted, the whole attack fell on Grenville, and
would have put you in mind of former days. You never heard any
minister worse treated than he was for two hours together, by
Tommy Townshend, Sir George Saville, and George Onslow--and what
was worse, no soul stepped forth in his defence, but Rigby and
Lord Strange, the latter of whom was almost as much abashed as
Charles Townshend; conscience flew in his black face, and almost
turned it red. T. Townshend was still more bitter on Lord
Sandwich, whom he called a profligate fellow--hoped he was
present,(741) and added, if he is not, I am ready to call him so
to his face in any private company: even Rigby, his accomplice,
said not a word in behalf of his brother culprit. You will
wonder how all this ended--what would be the most ridiculous
conclusion to such a scene'! as you cannot imagine, I will tell
you. Lord Harry Paulet(742) telling Grenville, that if Lord
Cobham was to rise from the dead, he would, if he could be
ashamed of any thing, be ashamed of him; by the way, every body
believes he meant the apostrophe stronger than he expressed it:
Grenville rose in a rage, like a basket-woman, and told Lord
harry that if he chose to use such language, he knew where to
find him. Did you ever hear of a prime minister, even soi-disant
tel, challenging an opponent, when he could not answer him? Poor
Lord Harry, too, was an unfortunate subject to exercise his
valour upon! The House interposed; Lord Harry declared he should
have expected Grenville to breakfast with him next morning;
Grenville explained off and on two or three times, the Scotch
laughed, the opposition roared, and the treasury-bench sat as
mute as fishes. Thus ended that wise Hudibrastic encounter.
Grenville however, attended by every bad omen, provoked your
brother, who had not intended to speak, by saying that some
people had a good opinion of the dismissed officers, others had
not. Your brother rose, and surpassed himself: he was very warm,
though less so than on the first day; very decent in terms, but
most severe in effect; he more than hinted at the threats that
had been used to him--said he would not reveal what was improper;
yet left no mortal in the dark on that head. He called on the
officers to assert their own freedom and independence. In short,
made such a speech as silenced all his adversaries, but has
filled the whole town with his praises: I believe, as soon as his
speech reaches Hayes, it will contribute extremely to expel the
gout, and bring Mr. Pitt to town, lest his presence should be no
longer missed. Princess Amelia told Me the next night, that if
she had heard nothing of Mr. Conway's speech, she should have
known how well he had done by my spirits. I was not sorry she
made this reflection, as I knew she would repeat it to Lady
(Betty) Waldegrave; and as I was willing that the Duchess of
Bedford, who, when your brother was dismissed, asked the Duchess
of Grafton if she was not sorry for poor Mr. Conway, who has lost
every thing, should recollect that it is they who have cause to
lament that dismission, not we.
There was a paragraph in Rigby's speech, and taken up, and
adopted by Goody Grenville, which makes much noise, and, I
suppose, has not given less offence; they talked of "arbitrary
Stuart principles," which are supposed to have been aimed at the
Stuart favourite: that breach is wider than ever: not one of Lord
Bute's adherents have opened their lips this session. I conclude
a few of them will be ordered to speak on Friday; but unless we
go on too triumphantly and reconcile them, I think this session
will terminate Mr. Grenville's reign, and that of the Bedfords
too, unless they make great submissions.
Do you know that Sir W. Pynsent had your brother in his eye! He
said to his lawyer, "I know Mr. Pitt is much younger than I but
he has very bad health: as you will hear it before me, if he dies
first, draw up another will with mr. Conway's name instead of Mr.
Pitt's, and bring it down to me directly." I beg Britannia's
pardon, but I fear I could have supported the loss on these
grounds.
A very unhappy affair happened last night at the Star and Garter;
Lord Byron(743) killed a Mr. Chaworth there in a duel. I know
none of the particulars, and never believe the first reports.
My Lady Townshend was arrested two days ago in the street, at the
suit of a house painter, who, having brought her a bill double
the estimate he had given in, she would not pay it. As this is a
breach of Privilege, I should think the man would hear of it.
There is no date set for our intended motion on the Dismission of
officers; but, I believe, Lord John Cavendish and Fitzroy will be
the movers and seconders. Charles Townshend, we conclude, Will
be very ill that day; if one could pity the poor toad, one
should: there is jealousy of your brother,--fear of your
brother,--fear of Mr. Pitt,--influence of his own brother,--
connexions entered into both with Lord Bute and Mr. Grenville,
and a trimming plan concerted with Lord George Sackville and
Charles Yorke, all tearing him or impelling him a thousand ways,
with the addition of his own vanity and irresolution, and the
contempt of every body else. I dined with him yesterday at Mr.
Mackinsy's, where his whole discourse was in ridicule of George
Grenville.
The enclosed novel(744) is much in vogue; the author is not
known, but if you should not happen to like it, I could give you
a reason why you need not say so. There is nothing else now, but
a play called the Matonic Wife, written by an Irish Mrs.
Griffiths, Which in charity to her was suffered to run three
nights.(745)
Since I wrote my letter, the following, is the account nearest
the truth that I can learn of the fatal duel last night: a club
of Nottinghamshire gentlemen had dined at the Star and Garter,
and there had been a dispute between the combatants, whether Lord
Byron, who took no care of his game, or Mr. Chaworth, who was
active in the association, had most game on their manor. The
company, however, had apprehended no consequences, and parted at
eight o'clock; but Lord Byron stepping into an empty chamber, and
sending the drawer for Mr. Chaworth, or calling him hither
himself, took the candle from the waiter, and bidding Mr.
Chaworth defend himself, drew his sword. Mr. Chaworth, who was
an excellent fencer, ran Lord Byron through the sleeve of his
coat, and then received a wound fourteen inches deep into his
body. He was carried to his house in Berkeley-street,--made his
will with the greatest composure, and dictated a paper, which
they say, allows it was a fair duel, and died at nine this
morning. Lord Byron is not gone off, but says he will take his
trial, which, if the Coroner brings in a verdict of manslaughter,
may, according to precedent, be in the House of Lords, and
without the ceremonial of Westminster Hall. George Selwyn is
much missed on this occasion, but we conclude it will bring him
over.(746) I feel for both families, though I know none of
either, but poor Lady Carlisle,(747) Whom I am sure you will
pity.
Our last three Saturdays at the Opera have been prodigious. and a
new opera by Bach(748) last night, was so crowded, that there
were ladies standing behind the scenes during the whole
performance. Adieu! my dear lord: as this goes by a private
hand, you may possibly receive its successor before it.
(741) It seems, from a subsequent letter, that Lord Sandwich was
present. See post, p. 375, letter 240.
(742) Lord Henry Paulet, member for Hampshire, vice-admiral of
the White, brother of the Duke of Bolton; to which dignity he
himself succeeded on the 5th July, 1764.-E.
(743) William, fifth Lord Byron, born in 1722, died in 1798. The
Star and Garter was a tavern in Pall Mall.-C.
(744) His own Castle of Otranto.-E.
(745) It came out at Drury-lane, and was acted six nights. The
hint of it was taken from Marmontel's "Heureux Divorce."
(746) Mr. Selwyn's morbid curiosity after trials and executions
is well known.-C.
(747) Isabella, only sister of Lord Byron, wife of the fourth
Earl of Carlisle.-E.
(748) Adriano in Siria." The expectations of the public the first
night this drama was performed occasioned such a crowd at the
King's theatre as has seldom been seen there before; but whether
from heat or inconvenience, the unreasonableness of expectation,
the composer being Out Of fancy, or too anxious to please, Dr.
Burney says the opera failed, and that every one came out of the
theatre disappointed.-E.
Letter 240 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, Feb. 12, 1765. (page 373)
A great many letters pass between us, my dear lord, but I think
they are almost all of my writing. I have not heard from you
this age. I sent you two packets together by Mr. Freeman, with
an account of our chief debates. Since the long day, I have been
much out of order with a cold and cough, that turned to a fever:
I am now taking James's powder, not without apprehensions of the
gout, which it gave me two or three years ago.
There has been nothing of note in Parliament but one slight day
on the American taxes,(749) which Charles Townshend supporting,
received a pretty heavy thump from Barr`e, who is the present
Pitt, and the dread of all the vociferous Norths and Rigbys, on
whose lungs depended so much of Mr. Grenville's power. Do you
never hear them to Paris?
The operations of the opposition are suspended in compliment to
Mr. Pitt, who has declared himself so warmly for the question on
the Dismission of officers, that that motion waits for his
recovery. A call of the house is appointed for next Wednesday,
but as he has had a relapse, the motion will probably be
deferred. I should be very glad if it was to be dropped entirely
for this session, but the young men are warm and not easily
bridled.
If it was not too long to transcribe, I would send you an
entertaining petition(750) of the periwig-makers to the King, in
which they complain that men will wear their own hair. Should
one almost wonder if carpenters were to remonstrate, that since
the peace their trade decays, and that there is no demand for
wooden legs Apropos, my Lady Hertford's friend, Lady Harriot
Vernon,(751) has quarrelled with me for smiling at the enormous
head-gear of her daughter, Lady Grosvenor. She came one night to
Northumberland-house with such a display of friz, that it
literally spread beyond her shoulders. I happened to say it
looked as if her parents had stinted her in hair before marriage,
and that she was determined to indulge her fancy now. This,
among ten thousand things said by all the world, was reported to
Lady Harriot, and has occasioned my disgrace. As she never found
fault with any body herself, I excuse her! You will be less
surprised to hear that the Duchess of Queensberry has not yet
done dressing herself marvellously: she was at court on Sunday in
a gown and petticoat of red flannel. The same day the Guerchys
made a dinner for her, and invited Lord and Lady Hyde,(752) the
Forbes's and her other particular friends: in the morning she
sent word she was to go out of town, but as soon as dinner was
over, arrived at Madame de Guerchy's, and said she had been at
court.
Poor Madame de Seillern, the imperial ambassadress, has lost her
only daughter and favourite child, a young widow of twenty-two,
whom she was expecting from Vienna. The news Came this day
se'nnight; and the ambassador, who is as brutal as she is gentle
and amiable, has insisted on her having company at dinner to-day,
and her assembly as usual. The town says that Lord and Lady
Abergavenny(753) are parted, and that he has not been much milder
than Monsieur de Seillern on the chapter of a mistress he has
taken. I don't know the truth of this; but his lordship's heart,
I believe, is more inflammable than tender.
Lady Sophia Thomas,(754) has begged me to trouble you with a
small commission. It is to send me for her twelve little bottles
of "le Baume de Vie, compos`e par le Sieur Lievre, apoticaire
distillateur du Roi." If George Selwyn or Lord March are not set
out, they would bring it with pleasure, especially as she lives
at the Duke of Queensberry's.
We have not a new book, play, intrigue, marriage, elopement, or
quarrel; in short, we are very dull. For politics, unless the
ministers wantonly thrust their hands into some fire, I think
there will not even be a smoke. I am glad of it, for my heart is
set on my journey to Paris, and I hate every thing that stops me.
Lord Byron's foolish trial is likely to protract the session a
little; but unless there is any particular business, I shall not
stay for a puppet-show. Indeed, I can defend my staying here by
nothing but my ties to your brother. My health, I am sure, would
be better in another climate in winter. Long days in the House
kill me, and weary me into the bargain. The individuals of each
party are alike indifferent to me; nor can I at this time of day
grow to love men whom I have laughed at all my lifetime--no, I
cannot alter;--Charles Yorke or Charles Townshend are alike to
me, whether ministers or patriots. Men do not change in my eyes,
because they quit a black livery for a white one. When one has
seen the whole scene shifted round and round so often, one only
smiles, whoever is the present Polonius or the grave digger,
whether they jeer the Prince, or flatter his frenzy.
Thursday night, 14th.
The new assembly-room at Almack's was opened the night before
last, and they say is very magnificent, but it was empty; half
the town is ill With colds, and many were afraid to go, as the
house is scarcely built yet. Almack advertised that it was built
with hot brick and boiling water--think what a rage there must be
for public places, If this notice, instead of terrifying, could
draw any body thither. They tell me the ceilings were dropping
with wet--but can you believe me, when I assure you the Duke of
Cumberland was there?--Nay, had had a levee in the morning, and
went to the Opera before the assembly! There is a vast flight of
steps, and he was forced to rest two or three times. If he dies
of it--and how should he not?--it will sound very silly when
Hercules or Theseus ask him what he died of, to reply, "I caught
my death on a damp staircase at a new club-room."
Williams, the reprinter of the North Briton, stood in the pillory
to-day in Palace-yard. He went in a hackney-coach, the number of
which was 45. The mob erected a gallows opposite to him, on
which they hung a boot(755) with a bonnet of straw. Then a
collection was made for Williams, which amounted to near 200
pounds.(756) In short, every event informs the administration
how thoroughly they are detested, and that they have not a friend
whom they do not buy. Who can wonder, when every man of virtue
is proscribed, and they have neither parts nor characters to
impose even upon the mob! think to what a government is sunk,
when a Secretary of State is called in Parliament to his face
"the most profligate sad dog in the kingdom,"(757) and not a man
can open his lips in his defence. Sure power must have some
strange unknown charm, when it can compensate for such contempt!
I see many who triumph in these bitter pills which the ministry
are so often forced to swallow; I own I do not; it is more
mortifying to me to reflect how great and respectable we were
three years ago, than satisfactory to see those insulted who have
brought such shame upon us. 'Tis moor amends to national honour
to know, that if a printer is set in the pillory, his country
wishes it was my Lord This, or Mr. That. They will be gathered
to the Oxfords, and Bolingbrokes, and ignominious(758) of former
days; but the wound they have inflicted is perhaps indelible.
That goes to my heart, who had felt all the Roman pride of being
one of the first nations upon earth!--Good night!--I will go to
bed, and dream of Kings drawn in triumph; and then I will go to
paris, and dream I am proconsul there; pray, take care not to let
me be wakened with an account of an invasion having taken place
from Dunkirk!(759) Yours ever, H. W.
(749) The resolutions which were the foundation of the famous
Stamp-act.-E.
(750) The substance of this petition, and the grave answer which
the King was advised to give to such a ludicrous appeal, are
preserved in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1765, p. 95; where also
we learn that Mr. Walpole's idea of the Carpenters' petition was
put in practice, and his Majesty was humbly entreated to wear a
wooden leg himself, and to enjoin all his servants to do the
same. It may, therefore, be presumed that this jeu d'esprit was
from the pen of Mr. Walpole.-C.
(751) Lady Hirriot Wentworth, sister of the last Lord Strafford,
wife of Henry Vernon, Esq., and mother of Lady Grosvenor, whose
intrigue with the Duke of Cumberland made so much noise.-C.
(752) Thomas Villers, second son of Lord Jersey, first Lord Hyde
of his family: his lady was Charlotte, daughter of Lady Jane
Hyde, wife of William Earl of Essex, daughter of Henry, second
Earl of clarendon, and sister of the Duchess of Queensberry.-C.
(753) George, fifteenth Lord Abergavenny; and his lady, Henrieta
Pelham, sister of the first Earl of Chichester: she died in
1768.-E.
(754) Lady Sophia Keppel, daughter of the first Earl of
Albemarle, and wife of Colonel Thomas.-E.
(755) A Jack-boot, in allusion to the Christian name and title of
Lord Bute.-C.
(756) In a blue purse trimmed with orange, the colour of the
revolution, in opposition to the Stuart.-C.
(757) ant`e, p. 370, letter 239.
(758) We might be surprised at finding a person of Mr. Walpole's
taste and judgment, describing Harley and St. John as
ignominious, if we did not recollect, that during their
administration his father had been sent to the Tower, and
expelled the House of commons for alleged official corruptions.
It were to be wished that Mr. Walpole's personal prejudices could
always be traced to so amiable a source.-C.
(759) The demolition of Dunkirk was one of the articles of the
late treaty of peace, on which discussions were still
depending.-C.
Letter 241 To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, Feb. 19, 1765. (page 376)
Your health and spirits and youth delight me; yet I think you
make but a bad use of them, when you destine them to a triste
house in a country solitude. If you were condemned to
retirement, It would be fortunate to have spirits to support it;
but great vivacity is not a cause for making it one's option.
Why waste your sweetness on the desert air! at least, why bestow
so little of your cheerfulness on your friends? I do not wish
you to parade your rubicundity and gray hairs through the mobs
and assemblies of London; I should think you bestowed them as ill
as on Greatworth; but you might find a few rational creatures
here, who are heartily tired of what are called our pleasures,
and who would be glad to have you in their chimney-corner. There
you might have found me any time this fortnight; I have been
dying of the worst and longest cold I ever had in my days, and
have been blooded, and taken James's powder to no purpose. I
look almost like the skeleton that Frederick found in the
oratory;(760) my only comfort was, that I should have owed my
death to the long day in the House of Commons, and have perished
with Our liberties; but I think I am getting the better of my
martyrdom, and shall live to See you; nay, I shall not be gone to
Paris. As I design that journey for the term of my figuring in
the world, I would fain wind up my politics too, and quit all
public ties together. As I am not old yet, and have an excellent
though delicate constitution, I may promise myself some agreeable
years, if I could detach myself from all connexions, but with a
very few persons that I value. Oh, with what joy I could bid
adieu to loving and hating; to crowds, public places, great
dinners, visits; and above all, to the House of Commons; but pray
mind when I retire, it shall only be to London and Strawberry
Hill--in London one can live as one will, and at Strawberry I
will live as I will. Apropos, my good old tenant Franklin is
dead, and I am in possession of his cottage, which will be a
delightfully additional plaything at Strawberry. I shall be
violently tempted to stick in a few cypresses and lilacs there
before I go to Paris. I don't know a jot of news: I have been a
perfect hermit this fortnight, and buried in Runic poetry and
Danish wars. In short, I have been deep in a late history of
Denmark, written by one Mallet, a Frenchman,(761) a sensible man,
but I cannot say he has the art of making a very tiresome subject
agreeable. There are six volumes, and I am stuck fast in the
fourth.
Lord Byron's trial I hear is to be in May. If you are curious
about it, I can secure you a ticket for Lord Lincoln's gallery.
The Antiquarian Society have got Goody Carlisle(762) for their
president, and I suppose she will sit upon a Saxon chalkstone
till the return of King Arthur. Adieu!
(760) An allusion to the scene in the last chapter of his Castle
of Otranto.- E.
(761) Paul Henry Mallet was born at Geneva in 1731, and was for
some time professor of history in his native city. He afterwards
became professor royal of the belles lettres at Copenhagen. The
introduction to his History of Denmark was afterwards translated
by Dr. Percy, under the title of Northern Antiquities, including
the Edda.-E.
(762) Dr. Charles Lyttelton, Bishop of Carlisle. See ant`e, p.
207, letter 149. On his death, in 1768, he made a very valuable
bequest of manuscripts and printed books to the Society.-E.
Letter 242 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Feb. 28, 1765. (page 377)
Dear sir,
As you do not deal with newspapers, nor trouble Yourselves with
occurrences of modern times, you may perhaps conclude from what I
have told you, and from my silence, that I am in France. This
will tell you that I am not; though I have been long thinking of
it, and still intend it, though not exactly yet. My silence I
must lay on this uncertainty, and from having been much out of
order above a month with a very bad cold and cough, for which I
am come hither to try change of air. Your brother Apthorpe, who
was so good as to call upon me about a fortnight ago in town,
found me too hoarse to speak to him. We both asked one another
the same question--news of you?
I have lately had an accession to my territory here, by the death
of good old Franklin, to whom I had given for his life the lease
of the cottage and garden cross the road. Besides a little
pleasure in planting, and in crowding it with flowers, I intend
to make, what I am sure you are antiquarian enough to approve, a
bower, though your friends the abbots did not indulge in such
retreats, at least not under that appellation: but though we love
the same ages, you must excuse worldly me for preferring the
romantic scenes of antiquity. If you will tell me how to send
it, and are partial enough to me to read a profane work in the
style of former centuries, I shall convey to you a little
story-book, which I published some time ago, though not boldly
with my own name: but it has succeeded so well, that I do not any
longer entirely keep the secret. Does the title, The Castle of
Otranto(763) tempt you? I shall be glad to hear you are well and
happy.
(763) In the first edition of this work, of which but very few
copies were printed, the title ran thus:--"The Castle of Otranto,
a Story, translated by William Marshal, Gent., from the original
Italian of onuphrio Muralto, Canon of the church of St. Nicholas
at Otranto. London: printed for Thomas Lownds, in Fleet Street,
1765."-E.
Letter 243 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, March 9, 1765. (page 378)
Dear sir,
I had time to write but a short note with the Castle of Otranto,
as your messenger called on me at four o'clock, as I was going to
go abroad. Your partiality to me and Strawberry have, I hope,
inclined you to excuse the wildness of the story. You will even
have found some traits to put you in mind of this
place.(764)--When you read of the Picture quitting its
panel,(765) did not you recollect the portrait of Lord Falkland,
all in white, in my gallery? Shall I even confess to you, what
was the origin of this romance! I waked one morning, in the
beginning of last June, from a dream, of which, all I could
recover was, that I had thought myself in an ancient castle, (a
very natural dream for a head filled like mine with Gothic
story,) and that on the uppermost bannister of a great staircase
I saw a gigantic hand in armour. In the evening I sat down, and
began to write, without knowing in the least what I intended to
say or relate. The work grew on my hands, and I grew fond of
it--add, that. I was very glad to think of any thing, rather
than politics. In short, I was so engrossed with my tale, which
I completed in less than two months, that one evening, I wrote
from the time I had drunk my tea, about six o'clock, till after
one in the morning when my hand and fingers were so weary, that
I- could not hold my pen to finish the sentence, but left Matilda
and Isabella talking, in the middle of a paragraph. You will
laugh at my earnestness; but if I have amused you by retracing
with any fidelity the manners of ancient days, I am content, and
give you leave to think me as idle as you please.
You are, as you have long been to me, exceedingly kind, and I
should, with great satisfaction, embrace your offer of visiting
the solitude of Bleckely, though my cold is in a manner gone, and
my cough quite, if I was at liberty: but as I am preparing for my
French journey, and have forty businesses upon my hands, and can
only now and then purloin a day, or half a day, to come hither.
You know I am not cordially disposed to your French journey,
which is much more serious, as it is to be much more lasting.
However, though I may suffer by your absence, I would not
dissuade what may suit your inclination and circumstances. One
thing, however, has struck me, which I must mention, though it
would depend on a circumstance, that would give me the most real
concern. It was suggested to me by that real fondness I have for
your MSS. for your kindness about which I feel the utmost
gratitude. You would not, I think, leave them behind you: and
are you aware of the danger you would run, If, you settled
entirely in France? Do You know that the King of France is heir
to all strangers who die in his dominions, by what they call the
Droit d'Aubaine. Sometimes by great interest and favour, persons
have obtained a remission of this right in their lifetime: and
yet that, even that, has not secured their effects from being
embezzled. Old Lady Sandwich(766) had obtained this remission,
and yet, though she left every thing to the present lord, her
grandson, a man for whose rank one should have thought they would
have had regard, the King's officers forced themselves into her
house, after her death, and plundered. You see, if you go, I
shall expect to have your MSS. deposited with me. Seriously, you
must leave them in safe custody behind you.
Lord Essex's trial is printed with the State Trials. In return
for your obliging offer, I can acquaint you with a delightful
publication of this winter, a Collection of Old Ballads and
Poetry, in three volumes, many from Pepys's Collection at
Cambridge.(767) There were three such published between thirty
and forty years ago, but very carelessly, and wanting many in
this set: indeed, there were others, a looser sort,(768) which
the present editor, who is a clergyman, thought it decent to
omit.
When you go into Cheshire, and upon your ramble, may I trouble
you with a commission? but about which you must promise me not to
go a Step Out of your way. Mr. Bateman has got a cloister at Old
Windsor, furnished with ancient wooden chairs, most of them
triangular, but all of various patterns, and carved and turned in
the most uncouth and whimsical forms. He picked them up one by
one, for two, three, five, or six shillings apiece from different
farmhouses in Herefordshire. I have long envied and coveted
them. There may be such in poor cottages, in so neighbouring a
county as Cheshire. I should not grudge any expense for purchase
or carriage; and should be glad even of a couple such for my
cloister here. When you are copying inscriptions in a churchyard
in any village, think of me, and step into the first cottage you
see--but don't take further trouble than that.
I long to know what your bundle of manuscripts from Cheshire
contains.
My bower is determined, but not at all what it is to be. Though
I write romances, I cannot tell how to build all that belongs to
them. Madame Danois, in the Fairy Tales, used to tapestry them
with jonquils; but as that furniture will not last above a
fortnight in the year, I shall prefer something more huckaback.
I have decided that the outside shall be of treillage, which,
however, I shall not commence, till I have again seen some of old
Louis's old-fashioned Galanteries at Versailles. Rosamond's
bower, you, and I, and Tom Hearne know, was a labyrinth:(769) but
as my territory will admit of a very short clew, I lay aside all
thoughts of a mazy habitation: though a bower is very different
from an arbour, and must have more chambers than one. In short,
I both know, and don't know, what it should be. I am almost
afraid I must go and read Spenser, and wade through his
allegories, and drawling stanzas, to get at a picture. But, good
night! you see how one gossips, when one is alone, and at quiet
on one's own dunghill!--Well! it may be trifling; yet it is such
trifling as Ambition never is happy enough to know! Ambition
orders palaces, but it is Content that chats for a page or two
over a bower. Yours ever.
(764) "As, in his model of a Gothic modern mansion, Mr. Walpole
had studiously endeavoured to fit to the purpose of modern
convenience or luxury the rich, varied, and complicated tracery
and carving of the ancient cathedral, so, in the Castle of
Otranto, it was his object to unite the marvellous turn of
incident and imposing tone of chivalry exhibited in the ancient
romance, with that accurate display of human character and
contrast of feelings and passions, which is, or ought to be,
delineated in the modern novel." Sir Walter Scott; Prose Works,
vol. iii. p. 307.-E.
(765) The forms of the grim knight and pictured saint
Look living in the moon; and as you turn
Backward and forward, to the echoes faint
Of your own footsteps--voices from the urn
Appear to wake, and shadows wild and quaint
Start from the frames which fence their aspects stern,
As if to ask how you can dare to keep
A vigil there, where all but death should sleep."
Don Juan, c. xvi. st. 18.-E.
(766) Elizabeth, second daughter of John Wilmot Earl of
Rochester, and sister and co-heiress of Charles third Earl, and
widow of Edward Montagu third Earl of Sandwich, who died 20th of
October, 1729.-E.
(767) Edited by the Rev. Thomas Percy, fellow of St. John's
College, Oxford, and afterwards Bishop of Dromore. "The reviver
of minstrel poetry in Scotland was the venerable Bishop of
Dromore, who, in 1765, published his elegant collection of heroic
ballads, songs, and pieces of early poetry under the title of
'Reliques Of Ancient English Poetry.' The plan of the work was
adjusted in concert with Mr. Shenstone, but we own we cannot
regret that the execution of it devolved upon Dr. Percy alone; of
whose labours, as an editor, it might be said, 'Nihil quod
tetigit non ornavit.'" Sir W. Scott. Prose Works, vol. xvii. P.
120.-E.
(768) The work was entitled "A Collection of Old Ballads,
corrected from the best and most ancient copies extant, with
Introductions, historical, critical, or humorous." Sir Walter
Scott observes, that the editor was an enthusiast in the cause of
old poetry, and selected his matter without much regard to
decency, as will appear from the following singular preface to
one or two indelicate pieces of humour:--"One of the greatest
complaints made by the ladies against the first volume of our
collection, and, indeed, the only one which has reached my ears,
is the want of merry songs. I believe I may give a pretty good
guess at what they call mirth in such pieces as These, and shall
endeavour to satisfy them." Prose Works, vol. xvii. p. 122.-E.
(769) The Bower of Rosamond is said, or rather fabled, to have
been a retreat built at Woodstock by Henry II. for the safe
residence of his mistress, Rosamond Clifford; the approaches of
which were so intricate, that it could not be entered without the
guidance of a thread, which the King always kept in his own
possession. His Queen, Eleanor, having, however, gained
possession of the thread, obtained access to, and speedily
destroyed her fair rival.-E.
Letter 244 To Monsieur Elie De Beaumont.(770)
Strawberry Hill, March 18, 1765. (page 381)
Sir,
When I had the honour of seeing you here, I believe I told you
that I had written a novel, in which I was flattered to find that
I had touched an effusion of the heart in a manner similar to a
passage in the charming letters of the Marquis de Roselle.(771) I
have since that time published my little story, but was so
diffident of its merit, that I gave it as a translation from the
Italian. Still I should not have ventured to offer it to so
great a mistress of the passions as Madame de Beaumont, if the
approbation of London, that is, of a country to which she and
you, Sir, are so good as to be partial, had not encouraged me to
send it to you. After I have talked of the passions, and the
natural effusion-, of the heart, how will you be surprised to
find a narrative of the most improbable and absurd adventures!
How will you be amazed to hear that a country of whose good sense
you have an opinion should have applauded so wild a tale! But
you must remember, Sir, that whatever good sense we have, we are
not yet in any light chained down to precepts and inviolable
laws. All that Aristotle or his superior commentators, your
authors, have taught us, has not yet subdued us to regularity: we
still prefer the extravagant beauties of Shakspeare and Milton to
the cold and well-disciplined merit of Addison, and even to the
sober and correct march of Pope. Nay, it was but t'other day
that we were transported to hear Churchill rave in numbers less
chastised than Dryden's, but still in numbers like Dryden's.(772)
You will not, I hope, think I apply these mighty names to my own
case with any vanity, when it is only their enormities that I
quote, and that in defence, not of myself' but of my countrymen,
who have good-humour enough to approve the visionary scenes and
actors in the Castle of Otranto.
To tell you the truth, it was not so much my intention to recall
the exploded marvels of ancient romance, as to blend the
wonderful of old stories with the natural of modern novels. The
world is apt to wear out any plan whatever; and if the Marquis de
Roselle had not appeared, I should have been inclined to say,
that that species had been exhausted. Madame de Beaumont must
forgive me if I add, that Richardson had, to me at least, made
that kind of writing insupportable. I thought the nodus was
become dignus vindice, and that a god, at least a ghost, was
absolutely necessary to frighten us out of too much senses. When
I had so wicked a design, no wonder if the execution was
answerable. If I make you laugh, for I cannot flatter myself
that I shall make you cry, I shall be content; at least I shall
be satisfied, till I have the pleasure of seeing you, with
putting you in mind of, Sir, your, etc.
P. S. The passage I alluded to in the beginning of my letter is
where Matilda owns her passion to Hippolita. I mention it, as I
fear so unequal a similitude would not strike Madame de Beaumont.
(770) M. Elie de Beaumont was
admitted an advocate at the French bar in 1762. The weakness of
his voice militated against his success as a pleader, but the
beauty and eloquence with which he drew up his M`emoires, and
especially the one in favour of the unfortunate Calas family,
gained him great reputation. He was born in 1732, and died in
1786.-E.
(771) A French epistolary novel written by Madame Elie de
Beaumont. She also wrote the third part of "Anecdotes de la Cour
et du R`egne de Edouard II." She was born at Caen in 1729, and
died in 1783.-E.
(772) "Churchill," observes Mr. Campbell, in his Specimens of the
British Poets, " may be ranked as a satirist immediately after
Pope and Dryden, with perhaps a greater share of humour than
either. He has the bitterness of Pope, with less wit to atone
for it; but no mean share of the free manner and energetic
plainness of Dryden," Vol. vi. P. 5.-E.
Letter 245 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, March 28, 1765. (page 382)
Three weeks are a great while, my dear lord, for me to have been
without writing to you; but besides that I have passed many days
at Strawberry, to cure my cold (which it has done), there has
nothing happened worth sending across the sea. Politics have
dozed, and common events been fast asleep. Of Guerchy's
affair,(773) you probably know more than I do; it is now
forgotten. I told him I had absolute proof of his innocence, for
I was sure, that if he had offered money for assassination, the
men who swear against him would have taken it.
The King has been very seriously ill,; and in great danger. I
would not alarm you, as there were hopes when he was at the
worst. I doubt he is not free yet from his complaint, as the
humour fallen on his breast still oppresses him. They talk of
his having a levee next week, but he has not appeared in public,
and the bills are passed by commission; but he rides out. The
Royal Family have suffered like us mortals; the Duke of
Gloucester has had a fever, but I believe his chief complaint is
of a youthful kind. Prince Frederick is thought to be in a deep
consumption; and for the Duke of Cumberland, next post will
probably certify you of his death, as he is relapsed, and there
are no hopes Of him. He fell into his lethargy again, and when
they waked him, he said he did not know whether he could call
himself obliged to them.
I dined two days ago at Monsieur de Guerchy's, with the Comte de
Caraman,(774) who brought me your letter. He seems a very
agreeable Man, and you may be sure, for Your sake, and Madame de
Mirepoix's, no civilities in my power shall be wanting. I have
not yet seen Schouvaloff,(775) about whom one has more
curiosity--it is an opportunity of gratifying that passion which
one can so seldom do in Personages of his historic nature,
especially remote foreigners. I wish M. de Caraman had brought
the "Siege of Calais,"(776) which he tells me is printed, though
your account has a little abated my impatience. They tell us the
French comedians are to act at Calais this summer--is it possible
they can be so absurd, or think us so absurd as to go thither, if
we would not go further? I remember, at Rheims, they believed
that English ladies went to Calais to drink champagne!--is this
the suite of that belief? I was mightily pleased with the Duc de
Choiseul's answer to the Clairon;(777) but when I hear of the
French admiration of Garrick, it takes off something of my wonder
at the prodigious admiration of him at home. I never could
conceive the marvellous merit of repeating the words of other's
in one's own language with propriety, however well delivered.
Shakspeare is not more admired for writing his plays, than
Garrick for acting them. I think him a very good and very
various player--but several have pleased me more, though I allow
not in so many parts. Quin in Falstaff, was as excellent as
Garrick in Lear. Old Johnson far more natural in every thing he
attempted. Mrs. Porter and your Dumesnil surpassed him in
passionate tragedy; Cibber and O'Brien were what Garrick could
never reach, coxcombs, and men of fashion.(778) Mrs. Clive is at
least as perfect in low comedy--and Yet to me, Ranger was the
part that suited Garrick the best of all he ever performed. He
was a poor Lothario, a ridiculous Othello, inferior to Quin(779)
in Sir John Brute and Macbeth, and to Cibber in Bayes, and a
woful Lord Hastings and Lord Townley. Indeed, his Bayes was
original, but not the true part: Cibber was the burlesque of a
great poet, as the part was designed, but Garrick made it a
Garretteer. The town did not like him in Hotspur, and yet I don't
know whether he did not succeed in it beyond all the rest. Sir
Charles Williams and Lord Holland thought so too, and they were
no bad judges. I am impatient to see the Clairon, and certainly
will, as I have promised, though I have not fixed my day. But do
you know you alarm me! There was a time when I was a match for
Madame de Mirepoix at pharaoh, to any hour of the night, and
believe did play, with her five nights in a week till three and
four in the morning--but till eleven o'clock to-morrow morning-
-Oh! that is a little too much even at loo. Besides, I shall not
go to Paris for pharaoh--if I play all night, how shall I see
every thing all day?
Lady Sophia Thomas has received the Baume de vie, for she gives
you a thousand thanks, and I ten thousand.
We are extremely amused with the wonderful histories of your
hyena(780) in the Gevaudan: but our fox-hunters despise you: it
is exactly the enchanted monster of old romances. If I had known
its history a few months ago, I believe it would have appeared in
the Castle of Otranto,--the success of which has, at last,
brought me to own it, though the wildness of it made me terribly
afraid: but it was comfortable to have it please so much, before
any mortal suspected the author: indeed, it met with too much
honour far, for at first it was universally believed to be Mr.
Gray's. As all the first impression is sold, I am hurrying out
another, with a new preface, which I will send you.
There is not so much delicacy of wit as in M. de Choiseul's
speech to the Clairon, but I think the story I am going to tell
you in return, will divert you as much: there was a vast assembly
at Marlborough-house, and a throng in the doorway. My Lady
Talbot said, "Bless me! I think this is like the Straits of
Thermopylae!" My Lady Northumberland replied, "I don't know what
Street that is, but I wish I could get my - through." I hope you
admire the contrast. Adieu! my dear lord! Yours ever.
(773) This alludes, it is presumed, to a bill of indictment which
was found in the beginning of March, at the sessions at Hick's
Hall, against the Count de Guerchy, for the absurd charge of a
conspiracy to murder D'Eon.-C.
(774) Probably fran`cois Joseph, Count de Caraman, who married a
Princess de Chimay, heiress of the house of Benin, niece of
Madame de Mirepoix.-C.
(775) He had been favourite to the Empress Catherine; and, as Mr.
Walpole elsewhere says, "a favourite without an enemy."-C.
(776) A tragedy by M. du Belloy, which, with little other merit
than its anti-Anglicism, (which, in all times, has passed in
France for patriotism,) "faisait fureur" at this time.-C.
(777) Mademoiselle Clairon was at this moment in such vogue on
the French stage, that her admirers struck a medal in honour of
her, and wore it as a kind of order. A critic of the name of
Fr`eron, however, did not partake these sentiments, and drew, in
his journal, an injurious character of Mademoiselle Clairon.
This insult so outraged the tragedy queen, that she and her
admirers moved heaven and earth to have Fr`ron sent to the
Bastile, and, failing in her solicitation to the inferior
departments, she at last had recourse to the prime-minister, the
Duke of Choiseul, himself. His answer, which Lord Hertford, no
doubt, had communicated to Mr. Walpole, was admired for its
polite persiflage of her theatric Majesty. "I am," said the Duke,
"like yourself, a public performer, with this difference in your
favour, that you choose the parts you please, and are sure to be
crowned with the applause of the public (for I reckon as nothing
the bad taste of one or two wretched individuals who have the
misfortune of not admiring you). I, on the other hand, am
obliged to act the parts imposed on me by necessity. I am sure to
please nobody; I am satirized, criticised, libelled, hissed,--yet
I continue to do my best. Let us both, then, sacrifice our
little resentments and enmities to the public service, and serve
our country each in our own station. Besides," he added, "the
Queen has condescended to forgive Fr`eron, and you may,
therefore, without compromising your dignity, imitate her
Majesty's clemency." M`emoires de Bachaumont, t. i. p. 61. Such
were the miserable intrigues and squabbles, and such the examples
of ministerial pleasantry and prudence which occupied and amused
the Parisian public!--this; is but a straw to show which way the
wind blew; but such instances moderate our surprise and our
sorrow at the storm which followed.-C.
(778) There was some little personal pique in Mr. Walpole's
opinion of Garrick; yet it would be difficult to imagine a more
forcible eulogium on that great actor than is here inadvertently
pronounced, when, in order to find an equivalent for him, Mr.
Walpole is obliged to bring together old Johnson and Colley
Cibber, Quin and Clive, Porter and Dumesnil--two nations, two
generations, and both sexes.-C.
(779) "In Brute he shone unequalled; all agree
Garrick's not half so great a brute as he." Rosciad.-E.
(780) A wolf of enormous size, and, in some respects, irregular
conformation, which for a long time ravaged the Gevaudan; it was,
soon after the date of this letter, killed, and Mr. Walpole saw
it in Paris.-C.
Letter 246 To George Montagu, Esq.