*By this time, I suppose you returned to the Elysian fields of
Sheffield. The Country (I do not mean any particular reflections on
Sussex) must be vastly pleasant at this time of the Year! For my
own part, the punishment of my sins has at length overtaken me. On
Thursday, the third of December, in the present year of our Lord, one
Thousand seven hundred and seventy-two, between the hours of one and
two in the Afternoon, as I was crossing St. James's Church Yard, I
stumbled, and _again sprained my foot_; but, alas! after two days'
pain and Confinement, a horrid monster, _ycleped the Gout_, made me
a short Visit; and though he has now taken his leave, I am full of
apprehensions that he may have liked my company well enough to call
again.
The Parliament, after a few soft murmurs, is gone to sleep, to wake
again after Christmas,[179] safely folded in Lord North's[180]
arms. The town is gone into the Country, and I propose _visiting
Sheffield_ about Sunday se'nnight, if by that time I can get my
household preparations (I have as good as taken Lady Rous's lease
in Bentinck-Street) in any forwardness. Shall I _angle for Batt_?
No news stirring, except the Dutchess of G[loucester]'s pregnancy
certainly declared.[181] Way called on me the other day, and has
taken my plan with him to consider it; he still wishes to defer to
Spring; talks of bad roads, &c. and is very absolute. I remonstrated,
_but want to know whether I am to submit_.* Before I go out of town
_I must call to settle with_ the Gosling. I am afraid of _some
peremptory_ declaration, though I flatter myself they would not
materially injure me by a precipitated sale. *Adieu. _Clarke_, who is
writing near me, begs to be remembered. The savage is going to hunt
Foxes in Northamptonshire, Oxfordshire, Gloucestershire, &c. Yours
sincerely.*
[179] Parliament adjourned from December 23, 1772, to January 22,
1773.
[180] An allusion to Lord North's habit of sleeping in the House
of Commons. He slumbered, as Gibbon says in his Autobiography,
between the Attorney-General (Thurlow) and the Solicitor-General
(Wedderburn), who roused him when it was necessary that he should
speak. On one occasion a member of the Opposition exclaimed,
in reproach of his somnolence, "Even now the noble lord is
slumbering over the ruin of his country!" "I wish to Heaven,"
muttered Lord North, slowly opening his eyes, "that I was!"
[181] Her daughter, Sophia Matilda (1773-1844), was born May 29,
1773.
157.
_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._
Tuesday Evening, 15th December, 1772.