_December 20, 1778._ Mrs. Scott to Mrs. Robinson, Denton.—“... Miss
Coke is a most extraordinary character, and, in my opinion, a most
contemptible one, though I suppose she thinks herself a heroine. I have
great compassion on one who blushes at her frailties, or rather her
vices, for I hate those mincing names, designed only to palliate wrong
actions; but I detest a woman who glories in her shame, and sets the
world at defiance. Such desperate spirits should not be clad in feminine
bodies. They are fit only for Sixteen-string Jack and his brother
ruffians. Your daughter may in due time fall in love; nay, tho’ not very
probable, she may even fall, in a stronger sense of the word; ... but I
will venture to answer for her never being one of those intrepid damsels
who brazen out their vices, and, without any change of countenance, raise
blushes on the cheeks of all their sex. If she ever does ill, she will
do it sneakingly; will feel the censure of others, and, suffering for
her own, will rectify her errors. However, I am apt to believe she will
escape clear of any of this nature.
“... The new singer at the Pantheon is said to be the most extraordinary
that ever was heard; unlike every one that ever sang before; very much
like a bird, and the compass of her voice far above whatever was known.
She has one hundred guineas a night. When, in infancy, she was taken
out of a ditch, after a boar or a hog had devoured one fesse,—_car elle
est aussi mal partagée que la suivante de la Princesse Cunegonda_,—who
would have imagined she could ever be so great a lady? All her charms are
centred in her voice; for she is exceedingly ugly.”
_December 31, 1778._ Mrs. S. to Mrs. R.—“On my brother (William)
Robinson’s return from Burfield, he will be in better spirits, as a light
heart and a thin pair of breeches is a conjunction he has little notion
of. I fancy when he feels the gain of godliness in his pocket, he will be
mighty alert and joyous, and have a better idea of a merry Christmas than
he has ever yet formed.”
Mrs. Montagu’s letters now succeed.
To Mrs. Robinson. “_Tunbridge Wells, 1778._ ... I love London extremely,
where one has the choice of society, but I hate ye higgledy-piggledy of
the watering-places. One never sees an owl in a flock of wild geese,
nor a pigeon in the same company as hawks and kites. I leave it to the
naturalists to determine on ye merit of each species of fowl. All I
assert is, that nature has designed birds of a feather should flock
together. On the menagerie of the Pantiles there is not so just an
assortment. However, I have been fortunate now in finding Lady Spencer,
Lady Clermont, Mrs. Boughton, Mr. and Mrs. Wedderburne, and many of
my voluntary London society here. There was a pretty good ball last
Tuesday; and Lady Spencer and the Duchess of Devonshire were so good as
to chaperone Miss Gregory; so I did not think it necessary for me to sit
and see the graces of Messrs. L’Epy Valhouys and Mlle. Heinel exhibited
by the misses. I understand there are not above three dancing-men, and
the master of the ceremonies makes one of this number.
“Minouet dancing is just now out of fashion; and by the military air
and dress of many of the ladies, I should not be surprised if backsword
and cudgell playing should take place of it. I think our encampment
excellent for making men less effeminate; but if they make our women
more masculine, the male and female character, which should ever be kept
distinct, will now be more so than they have been.
“... We still have fine weather here, and I agree with you, that the dust
and other little inconveniences that attend a dry season are not to be
put in any account. I would have months of dust for one fine day.
“... I have not said anything yet to you of my poor father. The subject
is a very melancholy one. At present, all one can hope for him is an easy
exit. The great decay of his mental powers has for some time rendered
him an object of great pity; yet, to my unspeakable indignation, I was
told by a gentleman here, that one of ye whist-party at the coffee-house,
some months ago, had not only refus’d to pay a debt of eighteen guineas,
which he owed my father, but had triumphed over him in a shocking manner,
asserting his loss of memory and imbecillity. What a wretch must it be
that would insult an old man. Extream old age is little to be coveted.
In a long life one must outlive one’s friends, and, perhaps, oneself. I
imagine by the accounts of to-day, that the great deliverer from human
woes has before this time given him his release. My porter calls every
night, just before the last letter bell, to let me know how he does....
“It is much the fashion here to go and see the camp at Coxheath.... My
father’s illness would make it impossible for me to go; and I had much
rather have the honour of seeing their majesties at St. James’s. Of all
fields, the field of Mars is that I like least. The fields which sustain
manhood are pleasant objects; those in which they are destroyed, suggest
melancholly ideas.
“The fine condition in which I found my estates in Northumberland and
in Yorkshire, and the universal prosperity there, made me wish we might
enjoy our plenty in peace, run no new hazards, and incur no new taxes.
The labouring people in the north do not suffer the poverty we see in the
same rank in the south, and our parish rates are very low.
“... Lord Kames and Mrs. Drummond, his wife, came from Edinburgh, which
is an hundred miles from Denton, on purpose to spend a few days with me.
His lordship is a prodigy. At eighty-three he is as gay and as nimble
as he was at twenty-five. His sight, hearing, and memory perfect. He
has a great deal of knowledge and a lively imagination, and is a most
entertaining companion. I have promised to return his visit two years
hence. I think as he has not grown old in the space of eighty-three
years, two years more cannot have much effect. If it should abate a
little of his vivacity, he would still have enough left.”
“_Sandleford, February 10, 1779._ ... I am inform’d that our minister at
Lisbon sends an account that Admiral Rodney fell in with the Spanish
fleet in the Gulf of Gibraltar, has blown up the admiral’s ship of ninety
guns, taken four or five ships, and only one has got into Cadiz. This
news is but just arrived. Rule, Brittannia, rule the waves. There is an
admirable work of Mr. Anstey’s just published called ‘Speculation; or, a
Defence of Manhood,’ a poem.
“... Montagu is still at Harrow.... His master says more of him than
it becomes me to repeat; so I will, for once in my life, show more
discretion than vanity.”
To Mrs. Robinson. “_Sandleford, June ye 13th, 1779._ ... As I had not
been to Bath since the Circus was finished and the Crescent began, I
was much struck with the beauty of the town. In point of society and
amusement, it comes next (but after a long interval) to London. There
are many people established at Bath who were once of the polite and busy
world, so they retain a certain politeness of manner and vivacity of mind
which one cannot find in many country towns. All contracted societies,
where there are no great objects of pursuit, must in time grow a little
narrow and _un peu fade_; but then there is an addition of company by
people who come to the waters, from all the active parts of life, and
they throw a vivacity into conversation which we must not expect from
persons whose chief object was the odd trick or a _sans prendre_. Cards
is the great business of the inhabitants of Bath. The ladies, as is usual
in little societies, are some of them a little gossiping and apt to find
fault with the cap, the gown, the manner, or the understandings of their
neighbours. But that does not much concern the water-drinkers, who, not
being resident, are not the objects of their envy; and, I must say, they
are all very obliging to strangers. As the primate of Ireland was at Bath
almost all the time I was there, I had the daily pleasure of passing my
time in the most agreable society; for such is that of a person of his
noble mind, endeared still more by his friendship to our family.
“I did not go at all to the publick rooms, which are hot and noisy. As
much as I could, I excused myself from private assemblies. So, when the
primate, Lord Stormont, and some others of my acquaintance who happened
to be at Bath, had an idle hour, they bestowed it on me. The Bishop of
Peterborough, very unluckily for me, went away the day I came to Bath.
We just met at Marlbro’. Another agreable acquaintance of mine, the
Provost of Eton, arrived only just before I came away. Mr. Anstey was
often with me, and you will believe he is very droll and entertaining;
but what recommends him more, is his great attention to his family. He
has eight children. He instructs his boys in the Greek and Latin, so that
they are fitted for the upper forms of Eton School, where their education
is finished. He has a house in the Crescent, at which he resides the
greatest part of the year. Mrs. Anstey is a very sensible, amiable woman,
and does not deal in the gossip of the place. There is also Mr. Hamilton
in the Crescent. He is very polite, agreable, and has been much abroad
and lived much in the great world.
“I should dislike the Bath much less, if the houses were larger. I always
take the largest that can be got in the Circus or Crescent. On the
outside it appears a good stone edifice; in the inside, it is a nest of
boxes, in which I should be stifled, if the masonry were not so bad as to
admit winds at many places. The society and mode of life are infinitely
preferable to what one can find in any other country town, but much less
agreable than London. I believe if I was to act the part of Minos in this
World, I should use it as a kind of purgatory, to which I should send
those who had not the taste or qualifications which deserved to be put
into the capital city, nor were yet so disagreably unsociable as to merit
suffering the terrors and horrors of a long winter in the country.”
The devotion of Bath visitors to cards has been satirised in many an
epigram, more or less pointed. There were certain individuals among them
who were not likely to come under the eye of Mrs. Montagu, but who did
not escape the notice of Fielding. “I have known a stranger at Bath,”
he says, in the first volume of “Amelia,” “who has happened fortunately
(I might almost say unfortunately) to have four by honours in his hand
almost every time he dealt for a whole evening, shunned universally by
the whole company the next day!”
“Mr. Anstey, in a little excursion from home, called here on his way to
London, where he arrived just to behold the horrors of the conflagration.
On his return back, he made me another visit, and his countenance bore
the impression of horror, from the dreadful things he had beheld. He got
back to Bath just in time to be present at ye riots there.
“Tho’ I am not personally acquainted with the family of Sir E.
Knatchbull, I cannot help being glad the heir of it has made so proper
a match. I have heard a good character of the young lady. She has a
noble fortune, and, by her mother, must be allied to the best families
in Kent. Commerce has so enriched this kingdom, that in every county
there are some new gentry who eclypse those ancient families which once
had the superiority, and I must own I love to see it return to them.
The mellow dignity of a gentleman is infinitely preferable to the crude
pride of a nabob. I believe you are acquainted with Sir Archer and Lady
Croft. They are now come to live in their house in this neighbourhood.
It had been lett to a mad West Indian, who ruined his fortune, and then
shot himself; after that, to a nabob. I never visit the West Indians in
my neighbourhood, because they would teach my servants to drink rum; nor
the nabobs, lest they should teach them to want to eat turtle and rich
dainties. So I had not been at Dunstan till the other day, since the old
proprietor left it.
“I find the lower kind of neighbours are not pleased with Sir A. and Lady
Croft, because they are not so profuse as the West, nor magnificent as
the East, Indian; but they seem to me very well-bred people.
“My nephew Robinson, according to the primate’s advice, is studying
hard at Cambridge this vacation. He has very good sense and an uncommon
memory, so he will reap great advantage from application to study.
The generality of young people in these days spend all their time in
travelling from place to place. Such a life may fit them to be surveyors
of highroads, or, if very ingenious, to make maps of England, but for
nothing better. An uniformity of life goes far in forming a consistency
of character.
“It would have done no harm to Montagu to have practised lessons of
idleness rather than study; from the last, there is not anything to
divert him here.
“I am very sorry I have not a frank in Denton. However, that my double
letter may not put your pocket, as well as patience, to double expence, I
convey it to London in a frank, to save half the charges.”
To Mrs. Robinson. “_Sandleford, August 18, 1779._—Montagu’s master wrote
me a letter on my nephew’s leaving Harrow, giving him every praise I
could have wish’d, and desiring me to give him his portrait to hang up
with those of four of his distinguish’d scholars who had left his school
there. Those young men have since had a considerable reputation at the
university, and I hope my young friend will have the same. But one fears
for youth in every new stage it is to pass through. He was this summer
admitted of Trinity College. I should have preferr’d St. John’s, as
the discipline there is stricter; but his tutor, Mr. Gilbank, being of
Trinity, I could not continue my nephew under his daily inspection if he
was not at the same college; and tho’ the salary I give the tutor makes a
considerable difference in the expence, yet if parents are to be pardon’d
who spoil the child by sparing the rod, they are not so who spoil the
child to spare the guinea.”
Referring to the marriage of the daughter of her brother Charles, she
says: “... I imagine this week my neice at Canterbury is made a happy
bride, and what is better, in the probability of being a happy wife.
Mr. Hougham has a very good character, and I believe my neice is very
amiable. Discretion and good-humour are the great sources of domestick
happiness.... I dare say my dear neice (Mary) adorned the ball at
Canterbury with a charming minouet. I believe the present Miss Robinsons
excell by far in that respect the former Miss Robinsons. And I heartily
wish all the steps they take in life may be with more smoothness and more
graces.
“I am impatient to have my new house fit for habitation, as I think the
large and high rooms and its airy situation will be of great service to
my health; and I am sure such noble apartments will be a great addition
to my pleasures. In the winter of the year and the winter of our life,
our principal enjoyments must be in our own house.... I suppose I shall
be advised to take some Bath waters before the winter sets in.... I will
get the better of my passion for my new house, which is almost equal to
that of a lover to a mistress whom he thinks very handsome and very good,
and such as will make him enjoy the dignity of life with ease, yet I will
give as much of the autumn as I shall be advis’d to the Bath waters.... I
have found much more benefit from Bath waters than I have from Tunbridge
for some years past; and the accommodations at Bath are infinitely
preferable. There are not above two houses on Mount Ephraim and Mount
Pleasant that are not mere hovels; the bedchambers are so low and small
that one is stifled; and, if the weather is bad, one is confin’d all day
in a little parlour not much larger than a bird-cage; so that unless
one goes to Tunbridge at the beginning of the season, one is miserably
accommodated.
“The airings round Bath are delightful. From every window of my house
in the Crescent I had the most beautiful prospects imaginable; so that
I enjoyed the sweet face of the fair month of May in all her blooming
charms.
“... I am very far from laughing at you, as you suppose, for indulging
reveries about your son’s marrying. I often allow my fancy to dance at
Montagu’s wedding; and the times are such I can hardly restrain it from
attending his divorce bill through the Houses of Lords and Commons.
However, it is better to suppose the times will mend. We do more wisely,
when we sweeten present cares with the prospect of future pleasures, than
when we embitter present pleasures with future apprehensions.”
When Mrs. Montagu made the last reflection, she probably had in her mind
the lines in her favourite “Comus:”
“... Be not over exquisite
To cast the fashion of uncertain evils;
For grant they be so, while they rest unknown,
Why need a man forestall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would most avoid?”
“... I have two objects in a daily state of improvement—my nephew Montagu
and my new house. Many people would say my pleasure in both will be less
when they are arriv’d at their state of perfection, but I am not of that
opinion. The pleasures of expectation and of possession are different,
but the quiet serenity of the latter is, methinks, the best.”
To Mrs. Robinson. “_December ye 29th, 1779._ ... Our town amours present
us with every thing that is horrible. Women without religion or virtue,
and men void even of a sense of honour. Never till now did one hear of
three divorces going forward in one session, in which the ladies of the
most illustrious rank and families in Great Britain were concern’d. Lady
Percy was the wife of a nobleman of a most distinguished merit, who had
a mind too noble to be satisfied with the greatest hereditary wealth and
honours, has, merely to serve his king and country, exposed himself to
all the difficulties and dangers of military service. Lord Carmarthen
is the prettiest man in his person; the most polite and pleasing in his
manners, with a sweet temper and an excellent Understanding, happily
cultivated. As to Lord Derby, to be sure, he has nothing on his side
but the seventh commandment; but that should be sufficient, and was
sufficient, in former times. Her family, it is said, triumph that this
divorce is only an ugly step to an elevation of title. However, the name
of an adulteress will surely blot whatever shall be written over it,
even were it an imperial title. It is said, however, that Lord D. will
be only divorced in the Spiritual Court; and, in that case, he will have
the revenge of keeping her in her present awkward situation; but while he
is punishing the faithless Wife, he is doing the greatest service to her
gallant (the Duke of Dorset), whom he prevents from incurring infamy and
also getting a most extravagant wife.
“I approve much of your getting a dance once a week for the young folks,
and I am particularly glad my nephew is of the party. Grace of person
is more important for a woman than a man; but the capacity of dancing a
minouet is more serviceable to a young man, for, by so doing, he obliges
many young ladies, while the minouet miss seldom pleases any girl but
herself. Unless a girl is very beautiful, very well-shaped, and very
genteel, she gives little pleasure to the spectators of her minouet;
and, indeed, so unpolite are the setters-by in all assemblies, that they
express a most ungrateful joy when the minouets are over. For my part,
tho’ I feel as great ennui as my neighbours on those occasions, I never
allow myself to appear so; for I look upon a minouet to be generally an
act of filial piety, which gives real pleasure to fathers, mothers, and
aunts.... In France, good minouets are clapped; but I believe no nation
arrived at such a degree of civilization as to encore them.
“... I do not know whether I am more stupid than other people, but I
neither find any of the vexation some find in building, nor the great
amusement others tell me they experience in it. Indeed, if it were not
that a house must be building before it can be built, I should never
have been a builder.... I have not had a quarter of an hour’s pain or
pleasure from the operation. I have not met with the least disappointment
or mortification. It has gone on as fast and well as I expected, and,
when it is habitable, I shall take great pleasure in it; for it is an
excellent house, finely situated, and just such as I have always wish’d,
but never hoped, to have.
“... I know that in some little alterations we made at Sandleford, the
country workmen were so tedious, we were obliged to send for carpenters
from London; but here we have such a plenty of Hands, that everything
goes continually on.
[Illustration: The Minuet
_Photogravure from the painting by E. L. Garrido_]
“... I was grieved to see Scott’s Hall advertised to be sold. It is a
pity such an ancient family should be rooted up to plant some upstart
nabob in its place.
“... I suppose your consort was concerned at the indiscretion of his
Pallas, Mrs. Macaulay. Had she married a great-great-grandson of one
of the regicides, however youthful he had been, it might have been
pardonable; but the second mate of a surgeon to an Indian man-of-war, of
twenty-two, seems no way accountable. If ye Minerva she carried on the
outside of her coach had been consulted, no doubt but the sage goddess,
even in effigy, would have given signs of disapprobation. I have sent you
some verses of Mr. Anstey’s on the subject. The first copy he put into
the urn, at Mrs. Millar’s, at Batheaston; and being desired, when he drew
them, to read them a second time, instead of so doing, he read the other
copy.”
“_Bath, November ye 21, 1780._ ... It was time for Montagu to go to
Cambridge, where I had rather he had lectures and took degrees under
_alma mater_ than under the goddess of folly and dissipation here. In
these water-drinking places, every one is more idle and more silly than
at their respective homes, where all have some business, and many most
important pursuits. I consider, really, life here as a mere dream. Some
walk very gracefully, and talk very agreably in their sleep; but a young
man should not begin life by acting Le Sonambule. It is very well to
do so between the acts of a busy drama, or, alas! as a farce, when the
chief catastrophe is over, and the curtain is dropped between the busy
world and us.... The primate of Ireland is here. He very kindly sent
to my nephew Morris to come to him. Under such protection, I think Bath
as good a place as any he can be in. The advantage of domestick society
with the primate is the greatest imaginable; nor could any parent behave
with more real kindness to the young man, whose gratitude and deference
to his grace make the best return that can be to such goodness.... My
Nephew very wisely and laudably pursued, with the greatest application,
the course of classical studies the primate wish’d him to fall into; and
it is with great satisfaction I hear his grace speak of what he has done,
with the highest approbation.
“... My new house is almost ready.... I propose to move all my furniture
from Hill Street thither, and to let my house unfurnished till a good
purchaser offers. Then, should I get a bad tenant, I can seize his goods
for rent; and such security becomes necessary in these extravagant times.
“... Doctor Moisey being dead, I applied to Doctor de la Cour, your
friend, when I had my cold, to know if I might drink the waters. The poor
doctor is very sickly, and, perhaps, from that reason, he is the most
inattentive physician I ever knew or heard of. He is very agreable in
conversation, but does not remember for a whole day what he has ordered.
He suits me very well at present; for I want no medical help, and I
always love a lively companion. He took three guineas of me, for which I
had some saline draughts and a long direction as to food, the quantity of
water to be taken.... The saline draughts were very good and the food was
very wholesome; but as I knew before that those draughts were good for a
cold, and mutton and chicken easy of digestion, I rather regret my three
guineas. But this is between ourselves; for I never say what may hurt a
man in his profession; so that, when others complain of a loss of memory
and inattention, I am silent.”
The period has now arrived in which some notice is required of the
Bluestockings, of the date of whose origin Boswell has made an erroneous
statement.