neighbouring district whilst the French were in possession of it in ’98
under Humbert, is extremely interesting. It is written simply, with a
great appearance of truth and feeling. His palace was the headquarters
of the General and his officers. He speaks with highest admiration of
their humanity, civility, and incredible discipline. There is even
humour in his description of some of the scenes, particularly that
in which he describes the mixture of mirth and contempt with which
the French officer thrust indiscriminately upon the noddles of the
Irish the gaudy helmets. He yields the palm of superiority to the
English for their _dexterity_ in pillaging and in plunder; indeed
compared with every European army, save the Papal one, it is the only
_excellence_ in candour we can admit them to lay claim to.
Great embarkations are making at Plymouth of the Guards and other
troops. Their destination is not known, but rumour says they go to the
Mediterranean. Were I not satisfied how _harmless_ an English
military force is against an enemy in battle array, I should wish
contrary winds to waft them leagues out of their course, if they are
destined for Egypt; but they inspire as little alarm to their enemies
as they do confidence in their countrymen, for they are, as one of
their commanders in Ireland said publicly of them, ‘Formidable only to
their friends.’
* * * * *
[Sidenote: PICTURES BY VAN DYKE]
This house[79] has contained many remarkable and interesting persons;
there are curious stories about its origin. Some say it was a nunnery,
others, that it was built by a _Cope_ in the reign of Philip
and Mary. It came by marriage into the possession of Rich, Earl of
Holland.[80] He was a most accomplished and gallant cavalier, and so
amiable that Charles I. conceived a jealousy against him, probably not
totally without foundation. In consequence of this he was confined
by order to his house, but his Royal mistress refused to cohabit
with the King until her favourite chamberlain was at large. During
his residence here Van Dyke passed a year with him, and probably
painted some of those portraits which now decorate most of the best
collections in England.[81] There is a very fine portrait of ye Earl
of Holland, done by this celebrated artist, in the possession of Lord
Breadalbane, at Taymouth.[82] It represents him in the prime and beauty
of manhood, arrayed in the apparel of a bridegroom, such as he was when
he represented his Royal Master at the Court of France to the lovely
Henrietta Maria. His left leg is covered with white satin, it being the
one put into bed to the bride when Royal marriages are made by proxy.
He held employments of considerable trust, but was accounted wavering
in his politics and irritable in his temper. He retired here just when
the Civil war broke out, in disgust. Clarendon says, ‘He was visited by
all the disaffected Members of Parliament, who held frequent meetings
at Holland House.’ Some time after, when the Civil war was at its
height, he offered to join the King’s party at Oxford, but being coldly
received he returned to the Parliament forces. On 6th August, 1647,
‘The Members of Parliament who were driven from Westminster by tumult
met General Fairfax at Holland House and subscribed to the declaration
of the Army, etc.’[83] Some ascribe his desertion of the Royal cause
to his hatred of Ld. Strafford. He gave a proof of his wish to restore
it; in consequence of which he was taken prisoner, confined to his
house, and dragged to execution the 9th of March, 1648–9. His body
is buried in Kensington Church. In the July following, Lambert, then
General of the army, fixed his headquarters here. It was restored to
the family of Rich. When the Puritans shut up public theatres, the
actors used to act at the houses of the nobility, and this house is
mentioned as having frequently been the scene of much dramatic mirth
and festivity.
[Sidenote: ADDISON]
Addison was tutor to the Earl of Warwick.[84] He married the Countess,
his mother, a marriage which made no addition to his happiness; it
neither found them nor made them equal. She always remembered her own
rank, and thought herself entitled to treat with very little ceremony
the tutor of her son. Rowe’s ballad of despairing love is said to have
been written either before or after marriage upon this memorable pair,
and it is certain Addison has left behind him no encouragement for
ambitious love. There is a pretty little poem by Rowe upon the occasion
of his first visit to Holland House to see the Countess of Warwick.
It is said by some author, “Holland House is a large mansion, but
could not contain Mr. Addison, the Countess of Warwick, and one guest,
Peace.” During his residence here the house was frequented by the wits
and poets of the time, Pope, Tickell, Steele. Upon his deathbed he sent
for Gay, with whom he had had little previous intercourse. He told him
he had injured him, but would recompense him if he recovered: ‘What the
injury was, he did not explain.’ Lord Warwick was a disorderly young
man, and had received without heed the advice of Addison, who used his
utmost to reclaim his morals and mend his life; when he found himself
dying he sent for him, ‘That he might see how a Christian can die.’[85]
He expired under this roof in 1719.
Thou hill, whose brow the antique structures grace
Rear’d by bold chiefs of Warwick’s noble race,
Why, once so loved, whene’er thy bower appears,
O’er my dim eyeballs glance the sudden tears!
How sweet were once thy prospects fresh and fair,
Thy sloping walks and unpolluted air!
How sweet the glooms beneath thy aged trees,
Thy noontide shadows, and thy evening breeze!
His image thy forsaken bowers restore;
Thy walks and airy prospects charm no more;
No more the summer in thy glooms allay’d
Thy evening breezes, and thy noonday shade.
_Tickell, on the death of Addison._
And again in his _Kensington Garden_:--
Where now the skies high Holland House invades
And short-lived Warwick sadden’d all the shades.
Johnson repeats with great indignation Mandeville’s observation upon
Addison. It was that he appeared to him like a parson in a tye wig: a
laughable and, I daresay, a true remark.
In 1762, Henry Fox, Secretary of State (afterwards Lord Holland),
inhabited, and shortly after purchased this house.[86] During his life
it was frequently the resort of the great politicians. Sir Robert
Walpole, unless he died before, was certainly a frequent visitor, at
least he was a friend; Lds. Bute and Chatham, etc. Lady Sarah Lennox
resided with her sister Ly. H.[87] at the period of the present King’s
love, a love that might have elevated her to the throne, but for her
levity and total disregard for appearances. Both Ld. and Ly. Holland
died here. During his long illness he one day forbade admittance to
all his friends who might call, with the exception only of George
Selwyn, ‘For if I am alive I shall be very happy to see him, and if I
am dead he will be very glad to see me,’ alluding to George Selwyn’s
extraordinary passion for beholding death in any shape. He rarely
missed the sight of an execution. He was supposed to have incensed
George II. extremely by having indulged this curiosity about Queen
Caroline, to obtain a sight of whose corpse he concealed himself under
the bed, and during the absence at night of the attendants examined the
body. George II. had such an aversion to him that he always called him
‘_That rascal George_.’ Selwyn once overheard him and exclaimed,
‘What can that mean? Rascal! Oh! I forgot that it was a hereditary
title of the Georges.’ The King (George III.) the year after he had
been at G. Selwyn’s house at Matson (famous in history for the escape
of Charles I.) went mad. G. Selwyn upon this observed, ‘that it was odd
enough that the only two Kings that had visited Matson had _both
lost their heads_.’
[Sidenote: LORD ABERCORN’S MARRIAGE]
This singular marriage of Lady Ann’s is going on rapidly, nay, the
nuptials are to take place in the course of this week; but till the
holy knot is tied, I confess such mystery hangs upon the affair that I
shall continue withholding my full belief. He consults Ly. B. about the
equipages, fêtes that are to be given upon the occasion, etc., and yet
insists upon her keeping her promise of secrecy, and even goes so far
as to beg she will contradict the report if she hears it. He was always
supposed to be a little cracked, and his pride is beyond belief. When
travelling in Italy during the life of his uncle and he was only Mr.
Hamilton, to distinguish himself he left upon his cards, ‘D’Hamilton,
Comte Héréditaire d’Abercorn.’ His language is so _outré_ from
the manners of common life that it would appear caricatured and
_chargé’d_ even upon the stage. Should the union really take
place, the first step will be a rupture between Ly. Ann, his daughters,
and Miss Copley their aunt, as Ly. A. is both violent and peevish, and
little disposed to submit to the _gêne_ of _bienséance_ with
regard to them.
I hear from my dear Webby frequently. The others I know are well, but
poor Harriet is placed in a cheap school, and will be educated among
people and with ideas that certainly are not adapted to her way of life
I hope and trust in future.
_17th April, 1800._--Abbé de Lille to-day shone. He aimed not at
proving himself a political prophet: he contented himself with being
a pleasant companion and a poet unique. In conversation he was very
amusing; he told several stories about Voltaire, with whom he had been
intimate in the early part of his life. The Collège de Montaigne was
remarkable for its filthiness; the _régent_ of it, when the _écoliers_
were to act a play, was puzzled at their choice. It was _Mérope_. The
female name offended him, and he altered it to _Méropus_: upon which
Voltaire said it was in compliment of the place to call it _Mère au
puce_, it being the _foyer_ of dirt. Necker’s conduct in France, he
said, was exactly like that of a _Curé_, who at a jovial dinner heard
the bell ringing to Vespers, upon which he immediately chanted the
Psalm of _Deus in adjutorium meum intende_, etc.; the people made
the response _Gloria Patri et Filio et Spiritui sancto_; a man next
to the _Curé_ gave him a _soufflet_, saying if he had not begun the
people would not have sung. The application to Necker was that he first
sounded the alarm and roused the people of France. At the beginning of
the Revolution, when things that now seem insignificant were looked
upon as of great importance, two men were overheard talking of the
calamities of the country in the Thuileries. One said, ‘Ah! bon Dieu,
c’est la fin du monde.’ ‘Bah! bah!’ replied the other, ‘Comment donc,
Monsr., il y a des exemples?’
He recited his translation of the fourth book of the _Aeneid_; the
tender passages prove his ignorance of the sentiment he expresses. The
famous tirade is admirably rendered.
[Sidenote: LORD ABERCORN’S MARRIAGE]
Lord Abercorn’s singular union has at length taken place contrary to
every plausible speculation. A few days before it was declared he
confided to a friend his intended marriage, without naming the lady.
‘The world will be surprised, do not contradict the report, nor deny
it.’ As soon as the event was public the Queen sent Ly. Ely to Miss
Copley[88] to desire her to come to Buckingham House. ‘I hear that in
consequence of this business, that you intend quitting Ld. A.’s house;
remember, Miss Copley, that the worse the affair is, the stronger is
the necessity of continuing with your nieces, and remember you have my
advice and sanction.’ This maternal, majestic speech had its effect.
Sir Lionel Copley told me both of these anecdotes.
The day of the marriage Ly. A. was sitting with Ly. Bess. talking of
the event that was fixed for 8 o’clock in the ensuing eve., when their
conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the porter to inform
them, ‘That Lord Abercorn had just called and left word that Ly. Ann
must make haste, as she was to be married at 4.’ This intelligence
_so_ communicated surprised them, but compliance and punctuality
are indispensable qualities where Ld. A. is concerned, therefore they
obeyed. As soon as the ceremony was over, which was performed at Lord
Sudley’s,[89] Ld. A. made the Marchioness a low bow, handed his eldest
daughter out to his carriage, and went and dined with his own family,
whilst the Marchioness went and dined in Cavendish Square. He came with
a cavalcade of servants and _flambeaux_ to bear off his prize to
the Priory.
He is haughty and capricious, with enough of vanity to make him do a
generous action, and with a dash of madness to make him do a lively
one. Ly. Bess. went down for a few days; she described an evening
between the new married pair, which was an exact reproduction of a
scene in _The Taming of the Shrew_. To cure a headache he made her
play blindman’s buff, and the more she complained the more violent he
made the sport. A person remarked the livery, which is the same as the
younger branches of the Royal Family, and said, ‘I suppose your family
took it from them.’ ‘My family took it from them? No, it was the livery
of the Hamiltons before the House of Brunswick had a servant to put it
on.’ When he told the Dowager Lady Warwick that Sir Wm. Hamilton (her
brother) was to marry Mrs. Hart, and that _he_ should give her
away, she said it was a disgrace to the family, but if done by any of
them the deed was fitted to the one who had the blot in his escutcheon
and a crack in his skull.
The Duke of Somerset is to marry Ly. Charlotte Hamilton;[90] his mother
withholds her consent. She is much older than the Duke. Her superior
coquetry has obtained the palm, for his love began with her younger
sister, Lady Susan.
A circumstance, half ridiculous, half distressing, embarrassed me last
Saturday at Lansdown House. I met an old lover whom I had not set eyes
on for 14 years; the last time I beheld him was when he solicited an
interview to propose marriage. His mode of making the overture was
singular at least. He began by approaching his chair close to mine,
and followed this close-quartering with an endearing embrace round my
waist; he then complimented me upon my love of literature, and said,
‘I love books as much as you do, and we may fairly hope to have a very
literary little family.’ Tho’ barely fifteen years old, the ridicule of
the man’s proceeding struck me so much that I could scarcely contain
my laughter, and my mother did for me that which my own timidity
prevented, for he immediately received his final _congé_. He used
to write verses upon me, and sent me a copy, with a dog, the turn of
which was that as I was afraid of thieves this cur would protect me
until I ‘a bolder guardian took,’ meaning his precious self.
[Sidenote: A FORMER SUITOR]
_22nd April, 1800._--Ld. Thurlow yesterday in the House of Lords,
with every expression of contempt, animadverting upon the folly of
the Bills now brought before Parliament, the one for protecting bull
baiting, the marriage of a divorced woman with the culprit, etc.,
addressed himself sarcastically to Lord Auckland, and said, ‘And pray,
my Lord, why do you not bring in a Bill against ingratitude,’ alluding
to Ld. A.’s desertion of Ld. North.[91] The reproof was coarse and
uncalled for. The Union was debated last night in both Houses. Mr.
Grey, in spite of secession, attended and made a very able speech.
The above story of Ld. Thurlow’s sarcasm is murdered. The sting lies in
the absurdity of attempting to correct moral vices by law, which makes
the sneer wittier.
Ly. Ann’s change from poverty and dependence to stately grandeur
reminds me of the pretty _Epître des Vous et des Tu_, in which
Voltaire sketches the delights of his youthful mistress, contrasted
with the dull pomp she was surrounded by after a splendid alliance:--
Philis, qu’est devenu ce temps
Où dans un fiacre promenée
Sans laquais, sans ajustements,
De tes grâces seules ornée, etc.
I invited Mr. Lattin to dine here to-day, and as an inducement
mentioned that it was to meet Dr. Parr. He wrote a gallant reply,
accompanied by the following verses, which he says are the first he
ever wrote in French:--
L’Histoire nous apprend, que pour être écoutée
La Sagesse eut recours
Aux grâces, aux amours,
Et même de la Fable, à la voix empruntée.
Mais pour nous persuader, c’est la première fois
Que la beauté s’adresse
A la froide sagesse,
Où Vénus de Minerve ait employé la voix.
_27th April._--On Wednesday, ye 23rd, Dr. Parr dined and slept
here. He was pleasant enough and not too full of grammatical niceties.
I overheard him and Knight condemn various corrupt pronunciations and
agree in saying, ‘You and I can never pass them: we can never call
Xenophon otherwise than Xeno_pho_.’
[Sidenote: THE CZAR PAUL]
The French army under Kléber, by a convention between it, Sir Sidney,
and the Turks, is to quit Egypt; the Turks are to furnish transports.
The Governt. here are incensed against Sir Sidney; they complain of
the terms, and wish the French had been necessitated to remain and
perish from the plague, etc.[92] The plausible objection is, that the
Austrians have just come to be dissatisfied at the augmentation of
17,000 efficient, hardy troops to their enemy just at the beginning
of the campaign. The magnanimous Emperor of all the Russias is in
a passion; he has written to our Court to insist upon the recall
of Sir C. Whitworth,[93] who has committed the unpardonable offence
of visiting Count Cobenzel, the Austrian Minister; and his Imperial
Majesty has besides withdrawn his Russians in our pay. The high pay may
however tempt him to relent.[94] About a month ago he sent to Mr. Pitt,
Ld. Grenville, and Mr. Huskisson, 3 crosses of the Order of Malta, of
which order he has constituted himself the head, altho’ one of the
fundamental rules requires that every knight should be a Catholic and a
bachelor. He is of the Greek Church, and husband to a prolific Empress.
The great source of his wrath is about the island of Malta, which he
wants to possess, and which we will not agree to his having.
Mr. Grey made his annual motion for reform last Friday.[95] He made it
so moderate by softening down the rough edges that Wilberforce and Dr.
Laurence voted with him. Sheridan, Sir F. Burdett, Jones,[96] etc.,
were deterred from attending, as he was what they called _too_
moderate. After the debate he came and supped, and slept here. He
lamented his own precipitation and bad judgment in urging the measure
of secession, and very distinctly declared that whatever blame might
attach to it, _he_ was responsible for, as it was pressed upon
Mr. Fox against his opinion and inclination. I conveyed to him very
cautiously, that his attendance, unless he had an explicit and a
sort of public declaration from Mr. Fox that he wished himself to be
considered as null, would not be looked upon as fair; he assured me
that Fox had oftentimes urged him to attend.[97] I implied that such an
assurance was of course all his _conscience_ could require, yet
that public opinion demanded more publicity to be given to the wish
of Mr. F. than the report of a private conversation; to which he said
he never could ask Mr. Fox to declare himself for ever withdrawn from
public affairs.
I dined on Saturday, 26th, at L. H. In the morning Ld. Wycombe called
upon me; we were standing in the porch just as Ld. Lansdown drove into
the iron gate, upon which this dutiful son flew off in a tangent, and
exhibited a _scene_ before my servants and his father’s.
The following verses are written by Lewis, a pretty address from
Friendship to Youth:--
Turn, Wanderer, turn, and rest with me,
Let not yon glittering fane allure you:
My temple shall your shelter be,
My sacred fire from cold secure you.
Nor scorn it, though your dazzled sight
No burst of lustrous flame surprises
As with mild warmth and lambent light
It gently from the altar rises.
More vivid fires gild yonder shrine,
More heat and radiance round them casting,
But trust me, Youth, though bright they shine,
Their rage is fierce, their power is blasting.
Ah! pilgrim, shun the fatal blaze,
Thy forward steps forbear to number;
The blaze which on _my_ altar plays
Gives genial warmth and gentle slumber.
Here Reason as the priestess stands,
Here Tranquil Pleasure often lingers;
At Friendship’s fire then warm thy hands,
At Love’s thou’lt surely burn thy fingers!
‘Friendship,’
[Sidenote: A PARODY]
I showed them to Tierney, who parodied them almost offhand as an
address from a Warming-Pan to Old Age:--
Turn, dotard, turn, and rest with me,
Let not yon glittering fane allure you:
My presence shall your comfort be,
My sacred fire from cold secure you.
Nor scorn it, though your dazzled sight
No burst of lustrous splendour meets,
As with mild warmth each chilly night
It gently glides between the sheets.
More vivid fires gild yonder shrine,
Their blaze, ’tis true, more fiercely rages,
But, know, they give, unlike to mine,
More smoke than heat at certain ages.
Ah! shun then their delusive blaze,
Thy forward steps forbear to number,
The flame which on _my_ altar plays
Gives genial warmth and gentle slumber.
Turn, turn, from love and such repose,
Nurse what of life within thee lingers,
With me at least thou’lt warm thy toes,
With Love thou’lt only burn thy fingers.
‘Warmingpan.’
_5th May._--Last week Ld. H. made a motion in the H. of Lords in favour
of the Catholics, to obtain what they call their emancipation.[98]
Lord Lansdown, like a sly old politician, was glad of an opportunity
of saying something on behalf of the Catholics, mingled with a praise
of the Union, so that should the Union fail, he may say, ‘I foresaw
that ye measure, without granting the Catholics their demands, would
prove a mischievous one’; and if it should succeed he may say, ‘I
supported Ministers on it.’ In his speech he made several heartfelt
compliments to Ld. H. He said that whenever he differed in opinion from
him he doubted the rectitude of his own judgment; for of his excellent
abilities, he added, the House were competent to judge, but of the
goodness of his heart those only who had the happiness of knowing him
in private could estimate the value. He went on in this strain for
near ten minutes. The whole debate was flat, none were in spirits; Ld.
H. was unwell, and more than usually chilled by the deadness of his
audience. Tierney declares that accustomed as he is to act singly in
the H. of Commons, yet he could not bear up in the H. of Lords; there
is a palsied indifference in the hearers that checks all spirit.
[Sidenote: LORD LANSDOWN]
It was essential to Ld. Lansdown to preserve the attachment of ----
during his Administration. But ---- confided to Ld. L. that his health
was injured by an irregularity of life. One should have thought from
the austerity of Ld. L.’s manners and private character that he was
a singular person to select for such a confidence, but so it was.
‘Indeed, I am not surprised, the calamitous state of the country,
the imbecility of Ministers, the augmentation of the debt, and the
increased influence of the Crown is such that I own to you very
frankly for dissipation I plunge myself into the lowest debauchery.’
He then, after this prelude, administered friendly relief. This is
very characteristic of him; the sort of jumble of ideas, and the
overstrained civility of adapting his own conduct to that of the person
he wishes to please, however repugnant it might be to him in reality.
‘Comment, mon ami,’ cried a wife to her drunken husband. ‘Vous vous
perdez, vous laissez toujours votre esprit au cabaret.’ ‘Ne craignez
rien, ma chère, j’irais la chercher dimanche.’
People are very much occupied with this Divorce Bill.[99] Ld. H. has
felt a shyness in attending the progress of it in the H. of Lords.
A Bishop, full of the subject, last week began talking to him; he
expressed his approbation of its becoming a criminal proceeding, and
added, ‘And do you not think, my Lord, that it would diminish the
frequency of the vice, if parties were condemned to imprisonment for
five years?’ Ld. H. was, of course, puzzled how to answer. The Bishop
was B. of Chichester.