of the Russian masquerade: he wrote to beg it, and I cannot
transcribe from myself. In a few words, there were all the
beauties, and all the diamonds, and not a few of the uglies of
London. The Duke,(551) like Osman the Third, seemed in the
centre of his new seraglio, and I believe my lady and I
thought that my Lord Anson was the chief eunuch. My Lady
Coventry was dressed in a great style, and looked better than
ever. Lady Betty Spencer, like Rubens's wife (not the common
one with the hat), had all the bloom and bashfulness and
wildness of youth, with all the countenance of all the former
Marlboroughs. Lord Delawar was an excellent mask, from a
picture at Kensington of Queen Elizabeth's porter. Lady
Caroline Petersham, powdered with diamonds and crescents for a
Turkish slave, was still extremely handsome. The hazard was
excessively deep, to the astonishment of some Frenchmen of
quality who are here, and who I believe, from what they saw
that night, will not write to their court to dissuade their
armaments, on its not being worth their while to attack so
beggarly a nation. Our fleet is as little despicable; but
though the preparations on both sides are so great, I believe
the storm will blow over. They insist on our immediately
sending an ambassador to Paris; and to my great satisfaction,
my cousin and friend Lord Hertford is to be the man. This is
still an entire secret here, but will be known before you
receive this. The weather is very bitter, and keeps me from
Strawberry. Adieu!
(549) Mr. Walpole having called his gold-fish pond Poyang,
calls the gold-fish Poyangers.
(550) Alluding to Mr. Bentley's dilatoriness in exercising his
pencil at the request of Mr. Walpole.
(551) William Duke of Cumberland.
239 Letter 124
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, Feb. 23, 1755.
My dear sir,
Your argosie is arrived safe; thank you for shells, trees,
cones; but above all, thank you for the landscape. As it is
your first attempt in oils, and has succeeded so much beyond
my expectation, (and being against my advice too, you may
believe the sincerity of my praises,) I must indulge my
Vasarihood, and write a dissertation upon it. You have united
and mellowed your colours, in a manner to make it look like an
old picture; yet there is something in the tone of it that is
not quite right. Mr. Chute thinks that you should have
exerted more of your force in tipping with light the edges on
which the sun breaks: my own opinion is, that the result of
the whole is not natural, by your having joined a Claude
Lorrain summer sky to a winter sea, which you have drawn from
the life. The water breaks fine] but the distant hills are
too strong, and the outlines much too hard ..The greatest
fault is the trees (not apt to be your stumbling-block): they
are not of a natural green, have no particular resemblance,
and are out of all proportion too large for the figures. Mend
these errors, and work away in oil. I am impatient to see
some Gothic ruins of your painting. This leads me naturally
to thank you for the sweet little cul-de-lampe to the entail
it is equal to any thing you have done in perspective and for
taste but the boy is too large.
For the block of granite I shall certainly think a louis well
bestowed--provided I do but get the block, and that you are
sure it will be equal to the sample you sent me. My room
remains in want of a table; and as it will take so much time
to polish it, I do wish you would be a little expeditious in
sending it.
I have but frippery news to tell you; no politics; for the
rudiments of a war, that is not to be a war, are not worth
detailing. In short, we have acted with spirit, have
got ready thirty ships of the line, and conclude that the
French will not care to examine whether they are well manned
or not. The House of Commons hears nothing but elections; the
Oxfordshire till seven at night three times a week: we have
passed ten evenings on the Colchester election, and last
Monday sat upon it till near two in the morning. Whoever
stands a contested election, and pays for his seat, and
attends the first session, surely buys the other six very
dear!
The great event is the catastrophe of Sir John Bland(552) who
has flirted away his whole fortune at hazard. He t'other
night exceeded what was lost by the late Duke of Bedford,
having at one period of the night (though he recovered the
greatest part of it) lost two-and-thirty thousand pounds. The
citizens put on their double-channeled pumps and trudge to St.
James's Street, in expectation of seeing judgments executed on
White's--angels with flaming swords, and devils flying away
with dice-boxes, like the prints in Sadeler's Hermits. Sir
John lost this immense sum to a Captain * @ * * *, who at
present has nothing but a few debts and his commission.
Garrick has produced a detestable English opera, which is
crowded by all true lovers of their country. To mark the
opposition to Italian operas, it is sung by some cast singers,
two Italians, and a French girl, and the chapel boys; and to
regale us with sense, it is Shakspeare's Midsummer Night's
Dream, which is forty times more nonsensical than the worst
translation of any Italian opera-books. But such sense and
such harmony are irresistible!
I am at present confined with a cold, which I caught by going
to a fire in the middle of the night, and in the middle of the
snow, two days ago. About five in the morning Harry waked me
with a candle in his hand, and cried, "Pray, your honour,
don't be frightened!"--"No, Harry, I am not: but what is it
that I am not to be frightened at?" --"There is a great fire
here in St. James's Street."--I rose, and indeed thought all
St. James's Street was on fire, but it proved in Bury Street.
However, you know I can't resist going to a fire; for it Is
certainly the only horrid sight that is fine. I slipped on my
slippers, and an embroidered suit that hung on the chair, and
ran to Bury Street, and stepped into a pipe that was broken up
for water.--It would have made a picture--the horror of the
flames, the snow, the day breaking with difficulty through so
foul a night, and my figure, party per pale, mud and gold. It
put me in mind of Lady Margaret Herbert's providence, who
asked somebody for a pretty pattern for a nightcap. "Lord!"
said they, "what signifies the pattern for a nightcap?" "Oh!
child," said she, "but you know, in case of fire." There were
two houses burnt, and a poor maid; an officer jumped out of
window, and is much hurt, and two young beauties were conveyed
out the same way in their shifts. there have been two more
great fires. Alderman Belchier's house at Epsom, that
belonged to the Prince, is burnt, and Beckford's fine
house(553) in the country, with pictures and furniture to a
great value. He says, "Oh! I have an odd fifty thousand
pounds in a drawer: I will build it up again: it won't be
above a thousand pounds apiece difference to my thirty
children." Adieu!
(552) Who shot himself at Kippax Park.-E.
(553) At Fonthill, in Wiltshire. The loss was computed at
thirty thousand pounds.-E.
241 letter 125
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, March 6, 1755.
My dear sir,
I have to thank you for two letters and a picture. I hope my
thanks will have a more prosperous journey than my own letters
have had of late. You say you have received none since
January 9th. I have written three since that. I take care,
in conjunction with the times, to make them harmless enough
for the post. Whatever secrets I may have (and you know I
have no propensity to mystery) will keep very well till I have
the happiness of seeing you, though that date should be
farther off than I hope. As I mean my letters should relieve
some of your anxious or dull minutes, I will tempt no
postmasters or secretaries to retard them. The state of
affairs is much altered since my last epistle that persuaded
you of the distance of a war. So haughty and so ravenous an
answer came from France, that my Lord Hertford does not go.
As a little islander, you may be very easy: Jersey is not prey
for such fleets as are likely to encounter in the channel in
April. You must tremble in your Bigendian capacity, if you
mean to figure as a good citizen. I sympathize with you
extremely in the interruption it will give to our
correspondence. You, in an inactive little spot, cannot wish
more impatiently for every post that has the probability of a
letter, than I, in all the turbulence of London, do
constantly, never-failingly, for letters from you. Yet by my
busy, hurried, amused, irregular way of life, you would not
imagine that I had much time to care for my friends@ You know
how late I used to rise: it is worse and worse: I stay late at
debates and committees; for, with all our tranquillity and my
indifference, I think I am never out of the House of Commons:
from thence, it is the fashion of the winter to go to vast
assemblies, which are followed by vast suppers, and those by
balls. Last week I was from two at noon till ten at night at
the House: I came home, dined, new-dressed myself entirely,
went to a ball at Lord Holderness's, and stayed till five in
the morning. What an abominable young creature! But why may
not I be so! Old Haslang(554) dances at sixty-five; my Lady
Rochford without stays, and her husband the new groom of the
stole, dance. In short, when secretaries of state, cabinet
councillors, foreign ministers, dance like the universal
ballet in the Rehearsal, why should not I--see them? In
short, the true definition of me is, that I am a dancing
senator--Not that I do dance, or do any thing by being a
senator: but I go to balls, and to the House of Commons-to
look on: and you will believe me when I tell you, that I
really think the former the more serious occupation of the
two; at least the performers are most in earnest. What men
say to women, is at least as sincere as what they say to their
country. If perjury can give the devil a right to the souls
of men, he has titles by as many ways as my Lord Huntingdon is
descended from Edward the Third.
(554) Count de Haslang, many years minister from Bavaria to
the British court.-E.
242 Letter 126
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, March 10, 1755.
having already wished you joy of your chivalry, I would not
send you a formal congratulation on the actual despatch of
your patent: I had nothing new to tell you: forms between you
and me would be new indeed.
You have heard of the nomination of my friend and relation,
Lord Hertford,(555) to the embassy of Paris: you will by this
time have learned or perceived, that he is not likely to go
thither. They have sent demands too haughty to be admitted,
and we are preparing a fleet to tell them we think so. In
short, the prospect is very warlike. The ministry are so
desirous of avoiding it, that they make no preparations on
land--will that prevent it?--Their partisans d-n the
plantations, and ask if we are to involve ourselves in a war
for them? Will that question weigh with planters and West
Indians? I do not love to put our trust in a fleet only:
however, we do not touch upon the Pretender; the late
rebellion suppressed is a comfortable ingredient, at least, in
a new war. You know I call this the age of abortions: who
knows but the egg of this war may be addled?
Elections, very warm in their progress, very insignificant in
their consequence, very tedious in their attendance, employ
the Parliament solely. The King wants to go abroad, and
consequently to have the Houses prorogued: the Oxfordshire
election says no to him: the war says no to him: the town say
we shall sit till June. Balls, masquerades, and diversions
don't trouble their heads about the Parliament or the war: the
righteous, who hate pleasures and love prophecies, (the most
unpleasant things in the world, except their completion,) are
finding out parallels between London and Nineveh, and other
goodly cities of old, who went to operas and ridottos when the
French were at their gates--yet, if Arlington Street were ten
times more like to the most fashionable street in Tyre or
Sidon, it should not alarm me: I took all my fears out in the
rebellion: I was frightened enough then; I will never have
another panic. I would not indeed be so pedantic as to sit in
St. James's market in an armed chair to receive the French,
because the Roman consuls received the Gauls in the forum.
They shall be in Southwark before I pack up a single
miniature.
The Duke of Dorset goes no more to Ireland: Lord Hartington is
to be sent thither with the olive branch. Lord Rochford is
groom of the stole; Lord Poulet has resigned the bedchamber on
that preference, and my nephew and Lord Essex are to be lords
of the bedchamber. It is supposed that the Duke of Rutland
will be master of the horse, and the Dorset again lord
steward. But all this will come to you as very antique news,
if a whisper that your brother has heard to-day be true, of
your having taken a trip to Rome. If you are there when you
receive this, pray make my Lady Pomfret's(556) compliments to
the statues in the Capitol, and inform them that she has
purchased her late lord's collection of statues, and presented
them to the University of Oxford. The present Earl, her son,
is grown a speaker in the House of Lords, and makes
comparisons between Julius Caesar and the watchmen of Bristol,
in the same style as he compared himself to Cerberus, who,
when he had one head cut off three others sprang up in its
room. I shall go to-morrow to Dr. Mead's sale, and ruin
myself in bronzes and vases--but I will not give them to the
University of Oxford. Adieu! my dear Sir Knight.
(555) Francis Seymour Conway, Earl of Hertford; his mother was
sister to Lady Walpole.
(556) Henrietta Louisa, Countess-dowager of pomfret, having
quarrelled with her eldest son, who was ruined and forced to
sell the furniture of his seat at Easton Neston, bought his
statues, which had been part of the Arundelian collection, and
had been purchased by his grandfather.
243 Letter 127
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, March 27, 1755.
Your chimney(557) is come, but not to honour: the caryatides
are fine and free, but the rest is heavy: Lord Strafford is
not at all struck with it, and thinks it old-fashioned: it
certainly tastes of Inigo Jones.
Your myrtles I have seen in their pots, and they are
magnificent, but I fear very sickly. In return, I send you a
library. You will receive, some time or other, or the French
for you, the following books: a fourth volume of Dodsley's
Collection Of Poems, the worst tome of the four; three volumes
of Worlds; Fielding's Travels, or rather an account how his
dropsy was treated and teased by an inn-keeper's wife in the
Isle of Wight; the new Letters of Madame de S`evign`e, and
Hume's History of Great Britain; a book which, though more
decried than ever book was, and certainly with faults, I
cannot help liking much. It is called Jacobite, but in my
opinion is only not George-abite: where others abuse the
Stuarts, he laughs at them: I am sure he does not spare their
ministers. Harding,(558) who has the History of England at
the ends of his parliament fingers, says, that the Journals
will contradict most of his facts. If it is so, I am sorry;
for his style, which is the best we have in history, and his
manner imitated from Voltaire, are very pleasing. He has
showed very clearly that we ought to quarrel originally with
Queen Elizabeth's tyranny for most of the errors of Charles
the First. As long as he is Willing to sacrifice some royal
head, I would not much dispute with him which it should be. I
incline every day to lenity, as I see more and more that it is
being very partial to think worse of some men than of others.
If I was a king myself, I dare say I should cease to love a
republic. My Lady Rochford desired me t'other day to give her
a motto for a ruby ring, which had been given by a handsome
woman of quality to a fine man; he gave it to his mistress,
she to Lord * * * * *, he to my lady: who, I think, does not
deny that it has not yet finished its travels. I excused
myself for some time, on the difficulty of reducing such a
history to a poesy--at last I proposed this:
"This was given by woman to man, and by man to woman."
Are you most impatient to hear of a French war, or the event
of the Mitchell election? If the former is uppermost in your
thoughts, I can tell you, you are very unfashionable.' The
Whigs and Tories at Rome, Athens, and Jerusalem never forgot
national points with more zeal, to attend to private faction,
than we have lately. After triumphs repeated in the
committee, Lord Sandwich and Mr. Fox were beaten largely on
the report. It was a most extraordinary day! The Tories, who
could not trust one another for two hours, had their last
consult at the Horn Tavern just before the report, and all but
nine or ten voted in a body (with the Duke of Newcastle)
against agreeing to it: then Sir John Philipps, one of them,
moved for a void election, but was deserted by most of his
clan. We now begin to turn our hands to foreign war. In the
rebellion, the ministry was so unsettled that nobody seemed to
care who was king. Power is now so established that I must do
the engrossers the justice to say, that they seem to be
determined that their own King shall continue so. Our fleet
is great and well manned; we are raising men and money, and
messages have been sent to both houses from St. James's, which
have been answered by very zealous cards. In the mean time,
sturdy mandates are arrived from France; however with a
codicil of moderation, and power to Mirepoix still to treat.
He was told briskly "Your terms must come speedily; the fleets
will sail very quickly; war cannot then be avoided."
I have passed five entire days lately at Dr. Mead's sale,
where, however, I bought very little: as extravagantly as he
paid for every thing, his name has even resold them with
interest. Lord Rockingham gave two hundred and thirty guineas
for the Antinous--the dearest bust that, I believe, was ever
sold; yet the nose and chin were repaired and very ill. Lord
Exeter bought the Homer for one hundred and thirty. I must
tell you a piece of fortune: I supped the first night of the
sale at Bedford-house, and found my Lord Gower dealing at
silver pharaoh to the women. "Oh!" said I laughing, "I laid
out six-and-twenty pounds this morning, I will try if I can
win it back," and threw a shilling upon a card: in five
minutes I won a five-hundred leva, which was twenty-five
pounds eleven shillings. I have formerly won a thousand leva,
and at another five hundred leva. With such luck, shall not I
be able to win you back again?
Last Wednesday I gave a feast in form to the Hertfords. There
was the Duke of Grafton, Lord and Lady Hertford, Mr. Conway,
and Lady Ailesbury; in short, all the Conways in the world, my
Lord Orford, and the Churchills. We dined in the drawing-room
below stairs, amidst the Eagle, Vespasian, etc. You never saw
so Roman a banquet; but withal my virt`u, the bridegroom
seemed the most venerable piece of antiquity. Good night! The
books go to Southampton on Monday. Yours ever.
(557) A design for a chimney-piece, which, at Mr. Walpole's
desire, Mr. Bentley had made for Lord Strafford.
(558) Nicholas Harding, Esq. clerk of the House of Commons.-E.
245 Letter 128
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, April 13, 1755.
If I did not think that you would expect to hear often from me
at so critical a season, I should certainly not write to you
to-night: I am here alone, out of spirits, and not well. In
short, I have depended too much upon my constitution being
like
"Grass, that escapes the scythe by being low"
and having nothing of the oak in the sturdiness of my stature,
I imagined that my mortality would remain pliant as long as I
pleased. But I have taken so little care of myself this
winter, and kept such bad hours, that I have brought a slow
fever upon my nights, and am worn to a skeleton: Bethel has
plump cheeks to mine. However, as it would be unpleasant to
die just at the beginning of a war, I am taking exercise and
air, and much sleep, and intend to see Troy taken. The
prospect thickens; there are certainly above twelve thousand
men at the Isle of Rh`e; some say twenty thousand. An express
was yesterday despatched to Ireland, where it is supposed the
storm will burst; but unless our fleet can disappoint the
embarkation, I don't see what service the notification can do:
we have quite disgarnished that kingdom of troops; and if they
once land, ten thousand men may walk from one end of the
island to the other. It begins to be thought that the King
will not go abroad; that he cannot, every body has long
thought. You will be entertained with a prophecy which my
Lord Chesterfield has found in the 35th chapter of Ezekiel,
which clearly promises us victory over the French, and
expressly relates to this war, as it mentions the two
countries (Nova Scotia and Acadia) which are the point in
dispute. You will have no difficulty in allowing that
mounseer, is typical enough of France: except Cyrus, who is
the only heathen prince mentioned by his right name, and that
before he had any name, I know no power so expressly
described.
"2. Son of man, set thy face against Mount Seir, and prophecy
against it. 3. And say unto it, Thus saith the Lord God: O
Mount Seir, I am against thee; and I will stretch out mine
hand against thee, and I will make thee most desolate. 4. I
will lay thy cities waste, and thou shalt be desolate, etc.
10. Because thou hast said, These two nations and these two
countries shall be mine, and we will possess it."
I am disposed to put great trust in this prediction; for I
know few things more in our favour. You will ask me
naturally, what is to become of you? Are you to be left to all
the chance of war, the uncertainty of packets, the difficulty
of remittance, the increase of prices?--My dear sir, do you
take me for a prime minister, who acquaints the states that
they are in damned danger, when it is about a day too late? Or
shall I order my chancellor to assure you, that this is
numerically the very day on which it is fit to give such
notification, and that a day sooner or a day later would be
improper?-- But not to trifle politically with you, your
redemption is nearer than you think for, though not complete:
the terms a little depend upon yourself. You must send me an
account, strictly and upon your honour, what your debts are:
as there is no possibility for the present but of compounding
them, I put my friendship upon it, that you answer me
sincerely. Should you, upon the hopes of facilitating your
return, not deal ingenuously with me, which I will not
suspect, it would occasion what I hope will never happen.
Some overtures are going to be made to Miss * * * *, to ward
off impediments from her. In short, though I cannot explain
any of the means, your fortune wears another face; and if you
send me immediately, upon your honour, a faithful account of
what I ask, no time will be lost to labour your return, which
I wish so much, and of which I have said so little lately, as
I have had better hopes of it. Don't joke with me upon this
head, as you sometimes do: be explicit, be open in the most
unbounded manner, and deal like a man of sense with a heart
that deserves that you should have no disguises to it. You
know me and my style: when I engage earnestly as I do in this
business, I can't bear not to be treated in my own way.
Sir Charles Williams is made ambassador to Russia; which
concludes all I know. But at such a period two days may
produce much, and I shall not send away my letter till I am in
town on Tuesday. Good night!
Thursday, 17th.
All the officers of the Irish establishment are ordered over
thither immediately: Lord Hartington has offered to go
directly,(559) and sets out with Mr. Conway this day
se'nnight. The journey to Hanover is positive: what if there
should be a crossing-over and figuring-in of kings? I know
who don't think all this very serious; so that, if you have a
mind to be in great spirits, you may quote Lord Hertford. He
went to visit the Duchess of Bedford t'other morning, just
after Lord Anson had been there and told her his opinion. She
asked Lord Hertford what news? He knew none. "Don't you hear
there will be certainly war?" "No, Madam: I saw Mr. Nugent
yesterday, and he did not tell me any thing of it." She
replied, "I have Just seen a man who must know, and who thinks
it unavoidable." "Nay, Madam, perhaps it may: I don't think a
little war would do us any harm." Just as if he had said,
losing a little blood in spring is very wholesome; or that a
little hissing would not do the Mingotti any harm!
I went t'other morning to see the sale of Mr. Pelham's plate,
with George Selwyn--"Lord!" says he, "how many toads have been
eaten off those plates!" Adieu! I flatter myself that this
will be a comfortable letter to you: but I must repeat, that I
expect a very serious answer, and very sober resolutions. If
I treat you like a child, consider you have been so. I know I
am in the right--more delicacy would appear kinder, without
being so kind. As I wish and intend to restore and establish
your happiness, I shall go thoroughly to work. You don't want
an apothecary, but a surgeon--but I shall give you over at
once, if you are either froward or relapse. Yours till then.
(559) As viceroy.
247 Letter 129
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, April 22, 1755.
My dear sir,
Your brother and Mr. Chute have just left me in the design of
writing to you; that is, I promised your brother I would, if I
could make out a letter. I have waited these ten days,
expecting to be able to send you a war at least, if not an
invasion. For so long, we have been persuaded that an attempt
would be made on Ireland; we have fetched almost all the
troops from thence; and therefore we have just now ordered all
the officers thither, and the new Lord Lieutenant is going to
see if he has any government left: the old Lord Lieutenant
goes on Sunday to see whether he has any Electorate left.
Your brother says, he hears to-day that the French fleet are
sailed for America: I doubt it; and that the New-Englanders
have been forming a secret expedition, and by this time have
taken Cape Breton again, or something very considerable. I
remember when the former account came of that conquest, I was
stopped in my chariot, and told, "Cape Breton is taken." I
thought the person said "Great Britain is taken." "Oh!" said
I, "I am not at all surprised at that; drive on, coachman."
If you should hear that the Pretender and the Pretend@e have
crossed over and figured in, shall you be much more surprised?
Mr. Chute and I have been motto-hunting(560) for you, but we
have had no sport. The sentence that puns the best upon your
name, and suits the best with your nature, is too old, too
common, and belongs already to the Talbots, Humani nihil
alienum. The motto that punning upon your name suits best
with your public character, is the most heterogeneous to your
private, Homo Homini Lupus--forgive my puns, I hate them; but
it shows how I have been puzzled, and how little I have
succeeded. If I could pity Stosch, it would be for the edict
by which Richcourt incorporates his collection-but when he is
too worthless to be pitied living, can one feel for a hardship
that is not to happen to him till he is dead? How ready 1
should be to quarrel with the Count for such a law, if I was
driving to Louis,(561) at the Palazzo Vecchio!
Adieu! my dear child; I am sensible that this is a very scrap
of a letter; but unless the Kings of England and France will
take more care to supply our correspondence, and not be so
dilatory, is it my fault that I am so concise? Sure, if they
knew how much postage they lost, by not supplying us with
materials for letters, they would not mind flinging away eight
or ten thousand men every fortnight.
(560) It was necessary for him to have a motto to his arms, as
a baronet.
(561) Louis Siriez, a French goldsmith at Florence, who sold
curiosities, and lodged in the old palace at Florence.
248 Letter 130
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, April 24, 1755.
I don't doubt but you will conclude that this letter, written
so soon after my last, comes to notify a great sea-victory, or
defeat; or that the French are landed in Ireland, and have
taken and fortified Cork; that they have been joined by all
the wild Irish, who have proclaimed the Pretender, and are
charmed with the prospect of being governed by a true
descendant of the Mac-na-O's; or that the King of Prussia,
like an unnatural nephew, has seized his uncle and Schutz in a
post-chaise, and obliged them to hear the rehearsal of a
French opera of his own composing--No such thing! If you will
be guessing, you will guess wrong--all I mean to tell you is,
that thirteen gold fish, caparisoned in coats of mail, as rich
as if Mademoiselle Scuderi had invented their armour, embarked
last Friday on a secret expedition; which, as Mr. Weekes(562)
and the wisest politicians of Twickenham concluded, was
designed against the island of Jersey-but to their consummate
mortification, Captain Chevalier is detained by a law-suit,
and the poor Chinese adventurers are
now frying under deck below bridge. In short, if your
governor is to have any gold fish, you must come and manage
their transport yourself. Did you receive my last letter? If
you did, you will not think it impossible that you should
preside at such an embarkation.
The war is quite gone out of fashion, and seems adjourned to
America: though I am disappointed, I am not surprised. You
know my despair about this eventless age! How pleasant to have
lived in times when one could have been sure every week of
being able to write such a paragraph as this!--"We hear that
the Christians who were on their voyage for the recovery of
the Holy Land, have been massacred in Cyprus by the natives,
who were provoked at a rape and murder committed in a church
by some young noblemen belonging to the Nuncio"--; or--
"Private letters from Rome attribute the death of his Holiness
to poison, which they pretend was given to him in the
sacrament, by the Cardinal of St. Cecilia, whose mistress he
had debauched. The same letters add, that this Cardinal
stands the fairest for succeeding to the Papal tiara; though a
natural son of the late Pope is supported by the whole
interest of Arragon and Naples." Well! since neither the Pope
nor the most Christian King, will play the devil, I must
condescend to tell you flippancies of less dignity. There is
a young Frenchman here, called Monsieur Herault. Lady
Harrington carried him and his governor to sup with her and
Miss Ashe at a tavern t'other night. I have long said that the
French were relapsed into barbarity, and quite ignorant of the
world. You shall judge: in the first place, the young man was
bashful: in the next, the governor, so ignorant as not to have
heard of women of fashion carrying men to a tavern, thought it
incumbent upon him to do the honours for his pupil, who was as
modest and as much in a state of nature as the ladies
themselves, and hazarded some familiarities with Lady
Harrington. The consequence was, that the next morning she
sent a card-to both, to desire they would not come to her ball
that evening, to which she had invited them, and to beg the
favour of them never to come into her house again. Adieu! I
am prodigal of my letters, as I hope not to write you many
more.
(562) A carpenter at Twickenham, employed by Mr. Walpole.
250 Letter 131
To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 4, as they call it, but the weather andthe
almanack of my feelings affirm it is December.
I will answer your questions as well as I can, though I must
do it shortly, for I write in a sort of hurry. Osborn could
not find Lord Cutts,(563) but I have discovered another, in an
auction, for which I shall bid for you. Mr. Muntz has been at
Strawberry these three weeks, tight at work, so your picture
is little advanced, but as soon as he returns it shall be
finished. I have chosen the marbles for your tomb; but you
told me you had agreed on the price, which your steward now
says I was to settle. Mr. Bentley still waits the conclusion
of the session, before he can come amongst us again. Every
thing has passed with great secrecy: one would think the devil
was afraid of being tried for his life, for he has not even
directed Madame Bentley to the Old Bailey. Mr. Mann does not
mend, but how should he in such weather?
We wait with impatience for news from Minorca. there is a
Prince of Nassau Welbourg, who wants to marry Princess
Caroline of Orange; he is well-looking enough, but a little
too tame to cope with such blood. He is established at the
Duke of Richmond's, with a large train, for two months. He
was last night at a great ball at my Lady Townshend's, whose
Audrey will certainly get Lord George Lenox.(564) George
Selwyn, t'other night, seeing Lady Euston with Lady Petersham,
said, "There's my Lady Euston, and my Lady us'd to't." Adieu!
(563) Sir John, created Lord Cutts of Gowran in 1690,
distinguished himself at the siege of Buda: he accompanied
King William to England, was made a lieutenant-general, and
died without issue in 1707. Sir Richard Steele dedicated to
him his "Christian Hero." Lord Cutts married Mr. Montagu's
grandmother; he was her third husband.-E.
(564) Lord George Lenox married Lady Louisa Ker, daughter of
the Marquis of Lothian. Audrey married Captain Orme.-E.
250 Letter 132
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 6, 1755.
My dear sir,
Do you get my letters'! or do I write only for the
entertainment of the clerks of the post-office? I have not
heard from you this month! It will be very unlucky if my last
to you has miscarried, as it required an answer, of importance
to you, and very necessary to my satisfaction.
I told you of Lord Poulet's intended motion. He then
repented, and wrote to my Lady Yarmouth and Mr. Fox to mediate
his pardon. Not contented with his reception, he determined
to renew his intention. Sir Cordell Firebrace(565) took it
up, and intended to move the same address in the Commons, but
was prevented by a sudden adjournment. However, the last day
but one of the session, Lord Poulet read his motion, which was
a speech. My Lord Chesterfield (who of all men living seemed
to have no business to defend the Duke of Newcastle after much
the same sort of ill usage) said the motion was improper, and
moved to adjourn.(566) T'other Earl said, "Then pray, my
Lords, what is to become of my motion?" The House burst out
a-laughing: he divided it, but was single. He then advertised
his papers as lost. Legge, in his punning style, said, "My
Lord Poulet has had a stroke of an apoplexy; he has lost both
his speech and motion." It is now printed; but not having
succeeded in prose, he is turned poet--you may guess how good!
The Duke(567) is at the head of the Regency-you may guess if
we are afraid! -Both fleets are sailed. The night the King
went, there was a magnificent ball and supper at Bedford
House. The Duke was there: he was playing at hazard with a
great heap of gold before him; somebody said, he looked like
the prodigal son and the fatted calf both. In the dessert was
a model of Walton Bridge in glass. Yesterday I gave a great
breakfast at Strawberry Hill to the Bedford court. There were
the Duke and Duchess, Lord Tavistock and Lady Caroline, my
Lord and Lady Gower, Lady Caroline Egerton, Lady Betty
Waldegrave, Lady Mary Coke, Mrs. Pitt,(568) Mr. Churchill and
Lady Mary, Mr. Bap. Leveson,(569) and Colonel Sebright. The
first thing I asked Harry was, "Does the sun shine?" It did;
and Strawberry was all gold, and all green. I am not apt to
think people really like it, that is, understand it--, but I
think the flattery of yesterday was sincere; I judge by the
notice the Duchess took of your drawings. Oh! how you will
think the shades of Strawberry extended! Do you observe the
tone of satisfaction with which I say this, as thinking it
near? Mrs. Pitt brought her French horns: we placed them in
the corner of the wood, and it was delightful. Poyang has
great custom: I have lately given Count Perron some gold fish,
which he has carried in his post-chaise to Turin: he has
already carried some before. The Russian minister has asked
me for some too, but I doubt their succeeding there; unless,
according to the universality of my system, every thing is to
be found out at last, and practised every where.
I have got a new book that will divert you, called Anecdotes
Litteraires: it is a collection of stories and bons-mots of
all the French writers; but so many of their bons-mots are
impertinences, follies, and vanities, that I have blotted out
the title, and written Mis`eres des S`cavants. It is a
triumph for the ignorant. Gray says, very justly, that
learning never should be encouraged, it only draws out fools
from their obscurity; and you know I have always thought a
running footman as meritorious a being as a learned man. Why
is there more merit in having travelled one's eyes over so
many reams of paper than in having carried one's legs over so
many acres of ground? Adieu, my dear Sir! Pray don't be taken
prisoner to France, just when you are expected at Strawberry!
(565) Member for the county of Suffolk. He died in 1759.-E.
(566) "It was," writes Lord Chesterfield to Mr. Dayrolles, on
the 2d of May, "an indecent, ungenerous, and malignant
question, which I had no mind should either be put or debated,
well knowing the absurd and improper things that would be said
both for and against it, and therefore I moved for the House
to adjourn. As you will imagine that this was agreeable to
the King, it is supposed that I did it to make my court, and
people are impatient to see what great employment I am to
have; for that I am to have one, they do not in the least
doubt, not having any notion that any man can take any step
without some view of dirty interest. I do not undeceive them.
I have nothing to fear; I have nothing to ask; and there is
nothing that I can or will have."-E.
(567) The Duke of Cumberland.
(568) Wife@, of George Pitt of Strathfieldsaye, and daughter
of Sir Henry Atkins.-E.
(569) The Honourable Baptist Leveson, youngest son of the
first Lord Gower.
252 Letter 133
To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 13, 1755.
It is very satisfactory to me, to hear that Miss Montagu was
pleased with the day she passed at Strawberry Hill; but does
not it silently reproach you, who will never see it but in
winter? Does she not assure you that there are leaves, and
flowers, and verdure? And why will you not believe that with
those additions it might look pretty, and might make you some
small amends for a day or two purloined from Greatworth? I
wish you would visit it when in its beauty, and while it is
mine! You will not, I flatter Myself, like it so well when it
belongs to the Intendant of Twickenham, when a cockle-shell
walk is made across the lawn, and every thing without doors is
made regular, and every thing riant and modern;--for this must
be its fate! Whether its next master is already on board the
Brest fleet, I do not pretend to say; but I scarce think it
worth my while to dispose of it' by my will, as I have some
apprehensions of living to see it granted away de par le Roy.
My lady Hervey dined there yesterday with the Rochfords. I
told her, that as she is just going to France, I was unwilling
to let her see it, for if she should like it, she would desire
Mademoiselle with whom she lives, to beg it for her. Adieu!
252 Letter 134
To George Montagu, Esq.
May 19.
It is on the stroke of eleven, and I have but time to tell
you, that the King of Prussia has gained the greatest
victory(570) that ever was, except the Archangel Michael's-
-King Frederick has only demolished the dragoness. He
attacked her army in a strong camp on the 6th; suffered in the
beginning of the action much, but took it, with all the tents,
baggage, etc. etc two hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, six
thousand prisoners, and they say, Prague since. The Austrians
have not stopped yet; if you see any man scamper by your house
you may venture to lay hold on him, though he should be a
Pandour. Marshal Schwerin was killed. Good night!
(570) On the banks of the Moldaw near Prague.
253 Letter 135
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, June 10, 1755.
Mr. Muntz(571) is arrived. I am sorry I can by no means give
any commendation to the hasty step you took about him. Ten
guineas were a great deal too much to advance to him, and must
raise expectations in him that will not at all answer. You
have entered into no written engagement with him, nor even
sent me his receipt for the money. My good Sir, is this the
sample you give me of the prudence and providence you have
learned? I don't love to enter into the particulars of my own
affairs; I will only tell you in one word, that they require
great management. My endeavours are all employed to serve
you; don't, I beg, give me reasons to apprehend that they will
be thrown away. It is much in obscurity, whether I shall be
able to accomplish your re-establishment; but I shall go on
with great discouragement, if I cannot promise myself that you
will be a very different person after your return. I shall
never have it in my power to do twice what I am now doing for
you; and I choose to say the worst beforehand, rather than to
reprove you for indolence and thoughtlessness hereafter, when
it may be too late. Excuse my being so serious, but I find it
is necessary.
You are not displeased with me, I know, even when I pout: you
see I am not quite in good-humour with you, and I don't
disguise it; but I have done scolding you for this time.
Indeed, I might as well continue it; for I have nothing else
to talk of but Strawberry, and of that subject you must be
well wearied. I believe she alluded to my disposition to
pout, rather than meant to compliment me, when my Lady
Townshend said to somebody t'other day, who told her how well
Mrs. Leneve was, and in spirits, "Oh! she must be in spirits:
why, she lives with Mr. Walpole, who is spirit of hartshorn!"
Princess Emily has been here:--Liked it?--Oh no!--I don't
wonder; I never liked St. James'-,. She was so inquisitive
and so curious in prying into the very offices and servants'
rooms, that her Captain Bateman was sensible of it, and begged
Catherine not to mention it. he addressed himself well, if he
hoped to meet with taciturnity! Catherine immediately ran
down to the pond, and whispered to all the reeds, "Lord! that
a princess should be such a gossip!" In short, Strawberry
Hill is the puppet-show of the times.
I have lately bought two more portraits of personages in
Grammont, Harry Jermyn(572) and Chiffinch:(573) my Arlington
Street is so full of portraits, that I shall scarce find room
for Mr. Muntz's works.
Wednesday, 11th.
I was prevented from finishing my letter yesterday, by what do
you think? By no less magnificent a circumstance than a
deluge. We have had an extraordinary drought, no grass, no
leaves. no flowers; not a white rose for the festival of
yesterday! About four arrived such a flood, that we could not
see out of the windows: the whole lawn was a lake, though
situated on so high an Ararat: presently it broke through the
leads, drowned the pretty blue bedchamber, passed through
ceilings and floors into the little parlour, terrified Harry,
and opened all Catherine's water-gates and speech-gates. I
had but just time to collect two dogs, a couple of sheep, a
pair of bantams, and a brace of gold fish; for, in the haste
of my zeal to imitate my ancestor Noah, I forgot that fish
would not easily be drowned. In short, if you chance to spy a
little ark with pinnacles sailing towards Jersey, open the
skylight, and you will find some of your acquaintance. You
never saw such desolation! A pigeon brings word that Mabland
has fared still worse: it never came into my head before, that
a rainbow-office for insuring against water might be very
necessary. This is a true account of the late deluge.
Witness our hands
Horace Noah.
Catherine Noah, her mark.
Harry Shem.
Louis Japhet.
Peter Ham, etc.
I was going to seal my letter, and thought I should scarce
have any thing more important to tell you than the history of
the flood, when a most extraordinary piece of news indeed
arrived--nothing less than a new gunpowder plot-last Monday
was to be the fatal day. There was a ball at Kew--Vanneschi
and his son, directors of the Opera, two English lords, and
two Scotch lords, are in confinement at Justice Fielding's.
This is exactly all I know of the matter; and this -weighty
intelligence is brought by the waterman from my housemaid in
Arlington Street, who sent Harry word that the town is in an
uproar; and to confirm it, the waterman says he heard the same
thing at Hungerford-stairs. I took the liberty to represent
to Harry, that the ball at Kew was this day se'nnight for the
Prince's birthday; that, as the Duke was at it, I imagined the
Scotch lords would rather have chosen that day for the
execution of their tragedy; that I believe Vanneschi's son was
a child; and that peers are generally confined at the Tower,
not at Justice Fielding's; besides, that we are much nearer to
Kew than Hungerford-stairs are but Harry, who has not at all
recovered the deluge, is extremely disposed to think Vanneschi
very like Guy Fawkes; and is so persuaded that so dreadful a
story could not be invented, that I have been forced to
believe it too: and in the course of our reasoning and
guessing, I told him, that though I could not fix upon all
four, I was persuaded that the late Lord Lovat who was
beheaded must be one of the Scotch peers, and Lord Anson's son
who is not begot, one of the English. I was afraid he would
think I treated so serious a business too ludicrously, if I
had hinted at the scene of distressed friendship that would be
occasioned by Lord Hardwicke's examining his intimate
Vanneschi. Adieu! my dear Sir. Mr. Fox and Lady Caroline,
and Lord and Lady Kildare, are to dine here to-day; and if
they tell Harry or me any more of the plot you shall know it.
Wednesday night.
Well, now for the plot: thus much is true. A laundry-maid of
the Duchess of Marlborough, passing by the Cocoa-tree, saw two
gentlemen go in there, one of whom dropped a letter; it was
directed to you. She opened it. It was very obscure, talked
of designs at Kew miscarried, of new methods to be taken; and
as this way of correspondence had been repeated too often,
another must be followed: and it told you that the next letter
to him should be in a band-box at such a house in the
Haymarket. The Duchess concluded it related to a gang of
street-robbers, and sent it to Fielding. He sent to the house
named, and did find a box and a letter, which, though obscure
had treason enough in it. It talked of a design at Kew
miscarried; that the Opera was now the only place, and
consequently the scheme must be deferred till next season,
especially as a Certain person is abroad. For the other great
person (the Duke), they are sure of him at any time. There
was some indirect mention, too, of gunpowder. Vanneschi and
others have been apprehended; but a conclusion was made, that
it was a malicious design against the lord high treasurer of
the Opera and his administration, and so they have been
dismissed. Macnamara,(575) I suppose you Jerseyans know, is
returned with his fleet to Brest, leaving the transports
sailing to America. Lord Thanet and Mr. Stanley are just gone
to Paris, I believe to inquire after the war.
The weather has been very bad for showing Strawberry to the
Kildares; we have not been able to stir out of doors; but, to
make me amends, I have discovered that Lady Kildare is a true
S`evignist. You know what pleasure I have in any increase of
our sect; I thought she grew handsomer than ever as she talked
with devotion of Notre Dame des Rochers. Adieu! my dear Sir.
P. S. Tell me if you receive this; for in these gunpowder
times, to be sure, the clerks of the post-office are
peculiarly alert.
(571) Mr. Walpole had invited Mr. muntz from Jersey, and he
lived for some time at Strawberry Hill.
(572) Youngest son of Thomas, elder brother of the Earl of St.
Albans. He was created Baron Dover in 1685, and died without
issue in 1708.-E.
(573) One of Charles the Second's confidential pages.-E.
(574) The Pretender's birthday.
(576) The French admiral.
256 Letter 136
To Sir Horace Mann.
Strawberry Hill, June 15, 1755.
My dear sir,
I have received your two letters relating to the
Countess,(577) and wish you joy, since she will establish
herself at Florence, that you are so well with her; but I
could not help smiling at the goodness of your heart and your
zeal for us: the moment she spared us, you gave t`ete baiss`ee
into all her histories against Mr. Shirley: his friends say,
that there was a little slight-of-hand in her securing the
absolute possession of her own fortune; it was very prudent,
at least, if not quite sentimental. You should be at least as
little the dupe of her affection for her son; the only proof
of fondness she has ever given for him, has been expressing
great concern at his wanting taste for Greek and Latin.
Indeed, he has not much encouraged maternal yearnings in her:
I should have thought him shocked at the chronicle of her life
if he ever felt any impressions. But to speak freely to you,
my dear Sir, he is the most particular young man I ever saw.
No man ever felt such a disposition to love another as I did
to love him: I flattered myself that he would restore some
lustre to our house; at least, not let it totally sink; but I
am forced to give him up, and all my Walpole-views. I will
describe him to you, if I can, but don't let it pass your
lips. His figure is charming; he has more of the easy,
genuine air of a man of quality than ever you saw: though he
has a little hesitation in his speech, his address and manner
are the most engaging imaginable: he has a good-breeding and
attention when he is with you that is even flattering; you
think he not only means to please, but designs to do every
thing that shall please you; he promises, offers every thing
one can wish--but this is all; the instant he leaves you, you,
all the world, are nothing to him--he would not give himself
the least trouble in the world to give any body the greatest
satisfaction; yet this is mere indolence of mind, not of
body-his whole pleasure is outrageous exercise. Every thing
he promises to please you, is to cheat the present moment and
hush any complaint-I mean of words; letters he never answers,
not of business, not of his own business: engagements Of no
sort he ever keeps. He is the most selfish man in the world,
without being the least interested: he loves nobody but
himself, yet neglects every view of fortune and ambition. He
has not Only always slighted his mother, but was scarce decent
to his rich old grandmother, when she had not a year to live,
and courted him to receive her favours. You will ask me what
passions he has--none but of parade; he drinks without
inclination-makes love without inclination--games without
attention; is immeasurably obstinate, yet, like obstinate
people, governed as a child. In short, it is impossible not
to love him when one sees him; impossible to esteem him when
one thinks on him!
Mr. Chute has found you a very pretty motto: it alludes to the
goats in your arms, and not a little to you; per ardua
stabiles. All your friends approve it, and it is actually
engraving. You are not all more in the dark about the war
than we are even here: Macnamara has been returned some time
to Brest with his fleet, having left the transports to be
swallowed up by Boscawen, as we do not doubt but they will be.
Great armaments continue to be making in all the ports of
England and France, and, as we expect next month accounts of
great attempts made by our colonies, we think war unavoidable,
notwithstanding both nations are averse to it. The French
have certainly overshot themselves; we took it upon a higher
style than they expected, or than has been our custom. The
spirit and expedition with which we have equipped so
magnificent a navy has surprised them, and does exceeding
honour to my Lord Anson, who has breathed new life into our
affairs. The minister himself has retained little or none of
his brother's and of his own pusillanimity; and as the
Duke(578) is got into the Regency, you may imagine our
land-spirit will not be unquickened neither. This is our
situation; actual news there is none. All we hear from France
is, that a new-madness reigns there, as strong as that of
Pantins was. This is la fureur des cabriolets; singlic`e,
one-horse chairs, a mode introduced by Mr. Child:(579) they
not only universally go in them, but wear them; that is, every
thing is to be en cabriolet; the men paint them on their
waistcoats, and have them embroidered for clocks to their
stockings; and the women, who have gone all the winter without
any thing on their heads, are now muffled up in great caps
with round sides, in the form of, and scarce less than the
wheels of chaises! Adieu! my dear Sir.
(577) The Countess of Orford.
(578) The Duke of Cumberland.
(579) Josiah Child, brother of the Earl of Tilney.
257 Letter 137
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 5, 1755.
You vex me exceedingly. I beg, if it is not too late, that
you would not send me these two new quarries of granite; I had
rather pay the original price and leave them where they are,
than be encumbered with them. My house is already a
stone-cutter's shop, nor do I know what to do with what I have
got. But this is not what vexes me, but your desiring me to
traffic with Carter, and showing me that you are still open to
any visionary project! Do you think I can turn broker and
factor, and- I don't know what? And at your time of life, do
you expect to make a fortune by becoming a granite-merchant?
There must be great demand for a commodity that costs a guinea
a foot, and a month an inch to polish! You send me no
drawings, for which you know I should thank you infinitely,
and are hunting for every thing that I would thank you for
letting alone. In short, my dear Sir, I am determined never
to be a projector, nor to deal with projects. If you still
pursue them, I must beg you will not only not employ me in
them, but not even let me know that you employ any body else.
If you will not be content with my plain, rational way of
serving you, I can do no better, nor can I joke upon it. I
can combat any difficulties for your service but those of your
own raising. Not to talk any more crossly, and to prevent, if
I can, for the future, any more of these expostulations, I
must tell you plainly, that with regard to my own
circumstances. I generally drive to a penny, and have no
money to spare for visions. I do and am doing all I can for
you; and let me desire you once for all, not to send me any
more persons or things without asking my consent, and stay
till you receive it. I cannot help adding to the chapter of
complaint* * * *
These, my dear Sir, are the imprudent difficulties you draw me
into, and which almost discourage me from proceeding in your
business. If you anticipate your revenue, even while in
Jersey, and build castles in the air before you have repassed
the sea, can I expect that you will be a better economist
either of your fortune or your prudence here? I beg you will
preserve this letter, ungracious as it is, because I hope it
will serve to prevent my writing any more such.
Now to Mr. Muntz;-Hitherto he answers all you promised and
vowed for him: he is very modest, humble, and reasonable; and
has seen so much and knows so much, of countries and languages
that I am not likely to be soon tired of him. His drawings
are very pretty: he has done two views of Strawberry that
please me extremely; his landscape and trees are much better
than I expected. His next work is to be a large picture from
your Mr. bland for Mr. Chute, who is much content with him: he
goes to the Vine in a fortnight or three weeks. We came from
thence the day before yesterday. I have drawn up an
inventionary of all I propose he should do there; the
computation goes a little beyond five thousand pounds; but he
does not go half so fast as my impatience demands: he is so
reasonable, and will think of dying, and of the gout, and of
twenty disagreeable things that one must do and have, that he
takes no joy in planting and future views, but distresses all
my rapidity of schemes. last week we were at my sister's at
Chaffont in Buckinghamshire, to see what we could make of it;
but it wants so much of every thing, and would require so much
more than an inventionary of five thousand pounds, that we
decided nothing, except that Mr. Chute has designed the
prettiest house in the world for them. We Went to See the
objects of the neighbourhood, Bolstrode and Latimers. The
former is a melancholy monument of Dutch magnificence: however
there is a brave gallery of old pictures, and a chapel with
two fine windows in modern painted glass. The ceiling was
formerly decorated with the assumption, or rather presumption,
of Chancellor Jeffries, to whom it belonged; but a very
judicious fire hurried him somewhere else; Latimers belongs to
Mrs. Cavendish. I have lived there formerly with Mr. Conway,
but it is much improved since; yet the river stops short at an
hundred yards just under your eye, and the house has undergone
Batty Langley discipline: half the ornaments are of his
bastard Gothic, and half of Hallet's mongrel Chinese. I want
to write over the doors of most modern edifices, "Repaired and
beautified; Langley and Hallet churchwardens." The great
dining-room is hung with the paper of my staircase, but not
shaded properly like mine. I was much more charmed lately at
a visit I made to the Cardigans at Blackheath. Would you
believe that I had never been in Greenwich Park? I never had,
and am transported! Even the glories of Richmond and
Twickenham hide their diminished rays. Yet nothing is equal
to the fashion of this village: Mr. Muntz says we have more
coaches than there are in half France. Mrs. Pritchard has
bought Ragman's Castle, for which my Lord Litchfield could not
agree. We shall be as celebrated as Baiae or Tivoli; and, if
we have not such sonorous names as they boast, we have very
famous people: Clive and Pritchard, actresses; Scott and
Hudson, painters; my Lady Suffolk, famous in her time; Mr. H *
* *, the impudent lawyer, that Tom Hervey wrote against;
Whitehead, the poet--and Cambridge, the every thing. Adieu!
my dear Sir--I know not one syllable of news.
259 Letter 138
To Sir Horace Mann.
Strawberry Hill, July 16, 1755.
Our correspondence will revive: the war is begun. I cannot
refer you to the Gazette, for it is so prudent and so afraid
that Europe should say we began first, (and unless the Gazette
tell, how should Europe know?) that it tells nothing at all.
The case was; Captain Howe and Captain Andrews lay in a great
fog that lasted near fifty hours within speech of three French
ships and within sight of nine more. The commandant asked if
it was war or peace? Howe replied he must wait for his
admiral's signal, but advised the Frenchman to prepare for
war. Immediately Boscawen gave the signal, and Howe attacked.
The French, who lost one hundred and thirty men to our
thirteen, soon struck; we took one large ship, one
inconsiderable, and seven thousand pounds: the third ship
escaped in the fog. Boscawen detained the express ten days in
hopes of more success; but the rest of our new enemies are all
got safe into the river of Louisbourg. This is a great
disappointment! We expect a declaration of war with the first
fair wind. Make the most of your friendship with Count
lorenzi,(580) while you may.
I have received the cargo of letters and give you many thanks;
but have not seen Mr. Brand; having been in the country while
he was in town.
Your brother has received and sent you a dozen double prints
of my eagle, which I have had engraved. I could not expect
that any drawing could give you a full idea of the noble
spirit of the head, or of the masterly tumble of the feathers:
but I think Upon the whole the plates are not ill done. Let
me beg Dr. Cocchi to accept one of each plate; the rest, my
dear Sir, you will give away as you please.
Mr. Chute is such an idle wretch, that you will not wonder I
am his secretary for a commission. At the Vine is the most
heavenly chapel(581) in the world; it only wants a few
pictures to give it a true Catholic air-we are so conscious of
the goodness of our Protestantism, that we do not care how
things look. If you can pick us up a tolerable Last Supper,
or can have one copied tolerably and very cheap, we will say
many a mass for the repose of your headaches. The dimensions
are, three feet eleven inches and three quarters by two feet
eight inches and a half high. Take notice of two essential
ingredients; it must be cheap, and the colouring must b very
light, for it will hang directly under the window.
I beg YOU Will nurse yourself up to great strength; consider w
what German generals and English commodores you are again
going to have to govern! On my side, not a Pretender
shall land, nor rebellion be committed, but you shall have
timely notice. Adieu!
(580) A Florentine, but minister of France to the Great Duke.
(581) At Mr. Chute's seat of the Vine, in Hampshire, is a
chapel built by Lord Sandys of the Vine, lord chamberlain to
Henry VIII. In the painted glass windows, which were taken at
Boulogne in that reign, are portraits of Francis 1. his Queen,
and sister.
260 Letter 139
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 17, 1755.
To be sure, war is a dreadful calamity, etc.! But then it is a
very comfortable commodity for writing letters and writing
history; and as one did not contribute to make it, why there
is no harm in being a little amused with looking on; and if
one can but keep the Pretender on t'other side Derby, and keep
Arlington Street and Strawberry Hill from being carried to
Paris, I know nobody that would do more to promote peace, or
that will bear the want of it, with a better grace than
myself. If I don't send you an actual declaration of war in
this letter, at least you perceive I am the harbinger of it.
An account arrived yesterday morning that Boscawen had missed
the French fleet, who are got into Cape Breton; but two of his
captains(582) attacked three of their squadron and have taken
two, with scarce any loss. This is the third time one of the
French captains has been taken by Boscawen.
Mr. Conway is arrived from Ireland, where the triumphant party
are what parties in that situation generally are, unreasonable
and presumptuous. They will come into no terms without a
stipulation that the Primate(583) shall not be in the Regency.
This is a bitter pill to digest, but must not it be swallowed?
Have we heads to manage a French war and an Irish civil war
too?
There are little domestic news. If you insist upon some, why,
I believe I could persuade somebody or other to hang
themselves; but that is scarce an article uncommon enough to
send cross the sea. For example, the rich * * * * whose
brother died of the smallpox a year ago, and left him four
hundred thousand Pounds, had a fit of the gout last week, and
shot himself. I only begin to be afraid that it should grow
as necessary to shoot one's self here, as it is to go into the
army in France. Sir Robert Browne has lost his last daughter,
to whom he could have given eight thousand pounds a-year.
When I tell these riches and n)adnesses to Mr. Muntz, he
stares so, that I sometimes fear he thinks I mean to impose on
him. It is cruel to a person who collects the follies of the
age for the information of posterity to have one's veracity
doubted; it is the truth of them that makes them worth notice.
Charles Townshend marries the great dowager Dalkeith;(583 his
parts and presumption are prodigious. He wanted nothing but
independence to let him loose: I propose great entertainment
from him; and now, perhaps, the times will admit it. There
may be such things again as parties--odd evolutions happen.
The ballad I am going to transcribe for you is a very good
comment on so commonplace a text. My Lord Bath, who was
brought hither by my Lady Hervey's and Billy Bristow's reports
of the charms of the place, has made the following stanzas, to
the old tune which you remember of Rowe's ballad on
Doddington's Mrs. Strawbridge:--
"Some talk of Gunnersbury,
For Sion some declare;
And some say that with Chiswick-house
No villa can compare;
But all the beaux of Middlesex,
Who know the country well,
Say, that Strawberry Hill, that Strawberry
Doth bear away the bell.
Though Surry boasts its Oatlands,
And Claremont kept so jim;
And though they talk of Southcote's,
'Tis but a dainty whim;
For ask the gallant Bristow,
Who does in taste excel,
If Strawberry Hill, if Strawberry
Don't bear away the bell."
Can there be an odder revolution of things, than that the
printer of the Craftsman(585) should live in a house of mine,
and that the author of the Craftsman should write a panegyric
on a house of mine?
I dined yesterday at Wanstead many years have passed since I
saw it. The disposition of the house and the prospect are
better than I expected, and very fine: the garden, which they
tell you cost as much as the house, that is, 100,000 pounds
(don't tell Mr. Muntz) is wretched; the furniture fine, but
totally without taste: such continences and incontinences of
Scipio and Alexander by I don't know whom! such flame-coloured
gods and goddesses, by Kent! such family-pieces, by--I believe
the late Earl himself, for they are as ugly as the children he
really begot! The whole great apartment is of oak, finally
carved, unpainted and has a charming effect(586) The present
Earl is the most generous creature in the world: in the first
chamber I entered he offered me four marble tables that lay in
cases about the room: I compounded, after forty refusals of
every thing I commended, to bring away only a haunch of
venison: I believe he has not had so cheap a visit a good
while. I commend myself, as I ought: for, to be sure, there
were twenty ebony chairs, and a couch, and a table, and a
glass, that would have tried the virtue of a philosopher of
double my size! After dinner we dragged a gold-fish pond(587)
for my lady Fitzroy and Lord S@ I could not help telling my
Lord Tilney, that they would certainly burn the poor fish for
the gold, like the old lace. There arrived a Marquis St.
Simon, from Paris, who understands English, and who has seen
your book of designs for Gray's Odes: he was much pleased at
meeting me, to whom the individual cat(588) belonged, and you
may judge whether I was pleased with him. Adieu! my dear Sir.
(582) The two captains were the Honourable Captain Richard
Howe of the Dunkirk, and Captain Andrews of the Defiance, who,
on the 10th of June, off Cape Race, the southernmost part of
Newfoundland, fell in with three men-of war, part of the
French fleet, Commanded by M. Bois de la Motte; and, after a
very severe engagement of five Hours, succeeded in capturing
the Alcide of sixty-four guns, and the Lys of sixty-four.- E.
(583) Dr. Stone.
(584) Eldest daughter and coheiress of the great Duke of
Argyle, and widow of the Earl of Dalkeith.-E.
(585) Franklin, who occupied the cottage in the enclosure
which Mr. Walpole afterwards called the Flower-garden at
Strawberry Hill. When he bought the ground on which this
tenement stood, he allowed Franklin to continue to occupy it
during his life.
(586) Arthur Young, in his "Six Weeks' Tour," gives the
following description of Wanstead: "It is one of the noblest
houses in England. The magnificence of having four state bed-
chambers, with complete apartments to them, and the ball-room,
are superior to any thing of the kind in Houghton, Holkham,
Blenheim and Wilton: but each of these houses is superior to
this in other particulars; and, to form a complete, palace,
something must be taken from all."-E.
(587) Evelyn, who visited Wanstead, March 16, 1682-3, says, "I
went to see Sir Josiah Child's prodigious cost in planting
walnut-trees about his seat, and making fish-ponds many miles
in circuit, in Epping Forest, in a barren spot, as oftentimes
these suddenly moneyed men for the most part. seat themselves.
He, from a merchant's apprentice, and management of the East
India Company's stock, being arrived to an estate ('tis said)
200,000 pounds, and lately married his daughter to the eldest
son of the Duke of Beaufort, late Marquis of Worcester, with
50,000 pounds portional present, and various expectations."
(588) Walpole's favourite cat Selima, on the death of which,
by falling into a china tub, with gold fishes in it, Gray
wrote an Ode. After the death of the poet, Walpole placed the
china vase on a pedestal at Strawberry Hill, with a few lines
of' the Ode written for its inscription.-E.
263 Letter 140
To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 17, 1755.
Having done with building and planting, I have taken to
farming; the first fruits of my proficience in that science I
offer to you, and have taken the liberty to send you a couple
of cheeses. If you will give yourself the trouble to inquire
at Brackley for the coach, which set out this morning you will
receive a box and a roll of paper. The latter does not
contain a cheese, only a receipt for making them. We have
taken so little of the French fleet, that I fear none of it
will come to my share, or I would have sent you part of the
spoils. I have nothing more to send you, but a new ballad,
which my Lord Bath has made on this place; you remember the
old burden of it, and the last lines allude to Billy Bristow's
having fallen in love with it.
I am a little pleased to send you this, to show you, that in
summer we are a little pretty, though you will never look at
us but in our ugliness. My best compliments to Miss Montagu,
and my service to whatever baronet breakfasts with you, on
negus. Have you heard that poor Lady Browne is so unfortunate
as to have lost her last daughter; and that Mrs. Barnett is so
lucky as to have lost her mother-in-law, and is Baroness Dacre
of the South? I met the great C`u t'other day, and he asked me
if I ever heard from you; that he never did: I told him that I
did not neither; did not I say true?
263 Letter 141
To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 26, 1755.
who would not turn farmer, when their very first essay turns
to so good account? Seriously, I am quite pleased with the
success of mystery, and infinitely obliged to you for the kind
things you say about my picture. You must thank Mrs.
Whetenhall, too, for her prepossession about my cheeses: I
fear a real manufacturer of milk at Strawberry Hill would not
have answered quite so well as our old commodities of paint
and copper-plates.
I am happy for the recovery of Miss Montagu, and the
tranquillity you must feel after so terrible a season of
apprehension. Make my compliments to her, and if you can be
honest on so tender a topic, tell her, that she will always be
in danger, while you shut her up in Northamptonshire, and that
with her delicate constitution she ought to live nearer
friends and help; and I know of no spot so healthy or
convenient for both, as the county of Twicks.
Charles Townshend is to be married next month: as the lady had
a very bad husband before, she has chosen prudently, and has
settled herself in a family of the best sort of people in the
world, who will think of nothing but making her happy. I
don't know whether the bridegroom won't be afraid of getting
her any more children, lest it should prejudice those she has
already! they are a wonderful set of people for good-natured
considerations!
You know, to be sure, that Mr. Humberston(589) is dead, and
your neighbouring Brackley likely to return under the dominion
of its old masters. Lady Dysart(590) is dead too.
Mr. Chute is at the Vine. Your poor Cliquetis is still a
banished man. I have a scheme for bringing him back, but can
get Mrs. Tisiphone into no kind of terms, and without tying
her up from running him into new debts, it is in vain to
recover him.
I believe the declaration of war has been stopped at the
Custom-house, for one hears nothing of it. You see I am very
paragraphical, and in reality have nothing to say; so good
night! Yours ever.
(589)Member for Brackley.-E.
(590) Daughter of the Earl of Granville.
264 Letter 142
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, August 4, 1755, between 11 and 12 at night.
I came from London to-day, and am just come from supping at
Mrs. Clive's, to write to you by the fireside. We have been
exceedingly troubled for some time with St. Swithin's
diabetes, and have not a dry thread in any walk about us. I
am not apt to complain of this malady, nor do I: it keeps us
green at present, and will make our shades very thick, against
we are fourscore, and fit to enjoy them. I brought with me
your two letters of July 30 and August 1st; a sight I have not
seen a long time! But, my dear Sir, you have been hurt at my
late letters. Do let me say thus much in excuse for myself.
You know how much I value, and what real and great
satisfaction I have in your drawings. Instead of pleasing me
with so little trouble to yourself, do you think it was no
mortification to receive every thing but your drawings? to
find you full of projects, and, I will not say, with some
imprudences? But I have done on this subject--my friendship
will always be the same for you; it will only act with more or
less cheerfulness, as you use your common sense, or your
disposition to chimerical schemes and carelessness. To give
you all the present satisfaction in my power, I will tell you
* * * * *
I think your good-nature means to reproach me with having
dropped any hint of finding amusement in contemplating a war.
When one would not do any thing to promote it, when one would
do any thing to put a period to it, when one is too
insignificant to contribute to either, I must own I see no
blame in thinking an active age more agreeable to live in,
than a soporific one. But, O my dear Sir, I must adopt your
patriotism-Is not it laudable to be revived with the revival
of British glory? Can I be an indifferent spectator of the
triumphs of my country'? Can I help feeling a tattoo at my
heart, when the Duke of Newcastle makes as great a figure in
history as Burleigh or Godolphin-nay, as Queen Bess herself!
She gained no battles in person; she was only the actuating
genius. You seem to have heard of a proclamation of war, of
which we have not heard; and not to have come to the knowledge
of taking of Beau S`ejour(591) by Colonel Monckton. In short,
the French and we seem to have crossed over and figured in, in
politics.(592) Mirepoix complained grievously that the Duke
of Newcastle had overreached him-but he is to be forgiven in
so good a cause! It is the first person he ever deceived! I
am preparing a new folio for heads of the heroes that are to
bloom in mezzo-tinto from this war. At present my chief study
is West Indian history. You would not think me very
ill-natured if you knew all I feel at the cruelty and villany
of European settlers: but this very morning I found that part
of the purchase of Maryland from the savage proprietors (for
we do not massacre, we are such good Christians as only to
cheat) was a quantity of vermilion and a parcel of Jews-harps!
Indeed, if I pleased, I might have another study; it is my
fault if I am not a commentator and a corrector of the press.
The Marquis de St. Simon, whom I mentioned to you, at a very
first visit proposed to me to look over a translation he had
made of The Tale of a Tub: the proposal was soon followed by a
folio, and a letter of three sides, to press me seriously to
revise it. You shall judge of my scholar's competence. He
translates L'Estrange, Dryden, and others, l'`etrange Dryden,
etc.(593) Then in the description of the tailor as an idol,
and his goose as the symbol; he says in a note, that the goose
means the dove, and is a concealed satire on the Holy Ghost.
It put me in mind of the Dane, who, talking of orders to a
Frenchman, said, "Notre St. Esprit, est un `el`ephant."
Don't think, because I prefer your drawings to every thing in
the world, that I am such a churl as to refuse Mrs. Bentley's
partridges: I shall thank her very much for them. You must
excuse me If I am vain enough to be so convinced of my own
taste, that all the neglect that has been thrown upon your
designs cannot make me think I have overvalued them. I must
think that the states of Jersey who execute your town-house,-
have much more judgment than all our connoisseurs. When I
every day see Greek, and Roman, and Italian, and Chinese, and
Gothic architecture embroidered and inlaid upon one another,
or called by each other's names, I can't help thinking that
the grace and simplicity and truth of your taste, in whichever
you undertake is real taste. I go farther: I wish you would
know in what you excel, and not be bunting after twenty things
unworthy your genius. If flattery is my turn, believe this to
be so.
Mr. Muntz is at the Vine, and has been some time. I want to
know more of this history of the German: I do assure you, that
I like both his painting and behaviour; but if any history of
any kind is to accompany him, I shall be most willing to part
with him. However I may divert myself as a spectator of
broils, believe me I am thoroughly sick of having any thing to
do in any. Those in a neighbouring island are likely to
subside-and, contrary to custom, the priest(594) himself is to
be the sacrifice.
I have contracted a sort of intimacy with Garrick, who is my
neighbour. He affects to study my taste: I lay it all upon
you--he admires you. He is building a grateful temple to
Shakspeare: I offered him this motto: "Quod spiro et placeo,
si placeo tuum est!" Don't be surprised if you should hear of
me as a gentleman come upon the stage next winter for my
diversion. The truth is, I make the most of this acquaintance
to protect my poor neighbour at Clivden--You understand the
conundrum, Clive's den.
Adieu, my dear Sir! Need I repeat assurances? If I need,
believe that nothing that can tend to your recovery has been
or shall be neglected by me. You may trust me to the utmost
of my power: beyond that, what can I do? Once more, adieu!
(591) In June, 1755, the French fort of Beau Sejour, in the
Bay of Fundy, surrendered to Colonel Monckton, and two small
forts, Gaspereau and Venango, also capitulated. These were
the first conquests of the British arms in America during that
war. He gave the name of Fort Cumberland to Beau S`ejour.-E.
(592) This alludes to England and France not being at open
war, though constantly committing aggressions against each
other. The capture of these forts formed the first article Of
complaint against England, in the French declaration of war,
in June, 1756.-E.
(593) The Marquis de St. Simon did publish, in 1771, a
translation of Pope's Essay on Man.-E.
(594) The Primate of ireland.
266 Letter 143
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, August 15, 1755.
My dear sir,
Though I wrote to you so lately, and have certainly nothing
new to tell you, I can't help scribbling a line to YOU
to-night, as I am going to Mr. Rigby's for a week or ten days,
and must thank you first for the three pictures. One of them
charms me, the Mount Orgueil, which is absolutely fine; the
sea, and shadow upon it, are masterly. The other two I don't,
at least won't, take for finished. If you please, Elizabeth
Castle shall be Mr. Muntz's performance: indeed I see nothing
of You in it. I do reconnoitre you in the Hercules and
Nessus; but in both your colours are dirty, carelessly dirty:
in your distant hills you are improved, and not hard. The
figures are too large--I don't mean in the Elizabeth Castle,
for there they are neat; but the centaur, though he dies as
well as Garrick can, is outrageous. Hercules and Deianira are
by no means so: he is sentimental, and she most improperly
sorrowful. However, I am pleased enough to beg you would
continue. As soon as Mr. Muntz returns from the Vine, you
shall have a supply of colours. In the mean time why give up
the good old trade of drawing? Have you no Indian ink, no
soot-water, no snuff, no Coat of onion, no juice of any thing?
If you love me, draw: you would if you knew the real pleasure
you can give me. I have been studying all your drawings; and
next to architecture and trees, I determine that you succeed
in nothing better than animals. Now (as the newspapers say)
the late ingenious Mr. Seymour is dead, I would recommend
horses and greyhounds to you. I should think you capable of a
landscape or two with delicious bits of architecture. I have
known you execute the light of a torch or lanthorn so well,
that if it was called Schalken, a housekeeper at Hampton-court
or Windsor, or a Catherine at Strawberry Hill, would show it,
and say it cost ten thousand pounds. Nay, if I could believe
that you would ever execute any more designs I proposed to
you, I would give you a hint for a picture that struck me
t'other day in P`er`efixe's Life of Henry IV.(595) He says,
the king was often seen lying upon a common straw-bed among
the soldiers, with a piece of brown bread in one hand, and a
bit of charcoal in t'other, to draw an encampment, or town
that he was besieging. If this is not a character and a
picture, I don't know what is.
I dined to-day at Garrick's: there were the Duke of Grafton,
Lord and Lady Rochford, Lady Holderness, the crooked Mostyn,
and Dabreu the Spanish minister; two regents, of which one is
lord chamberlain, the other groom of the stole; and the wife
of a secretary of state. This is the being sur un assez bon
ton for a player! Don't you want to ask me how I like him? Do
want, and I will tell you. I like her exceedingly; her
behaviour is all sense, and all sweetness too. I don't know
how, he does not improve so fast upon me: there is a great
deal of parts, and vivacity, and variety, but there is a great
deal too of mimicry and burlesque. I am very ungrateful, for
he flatters me abundantly; but unluckily I know it. I was
accustomed to it enough when my father was first minister: on
his fall I lost it all at once: and since that, I have lived
with Mr. Chute, who is all vehemence; with Mr. Fox, who is all
disputation; with Sir Charles Williams, who has no time from
flattering himself; with Gray, who does not hate to find fault
with me; with Mr. Conway, who is all sincerity; and with you
and Mr. Rigby, who have always laughed at me in a good-natured
way. I don't know how, but I think I like all this as well--I
beg his pardon, Mr. Raftor does flatter me; but I should be a
cormorant for praise, if I could swallow it whole as he gives
it me.
Sir William Yonge, who has been extinct so long is at last
dead and the war, which began with such a flirt of vivacity,
is I think gone to sleep. General Braddock has not yet sent
over to claim the surname of Americanus. But why should I
take pains to show You in how many ways I know nothing?--Why;
I can tell it you in one word--why, Mr. Cambridge knows
nothing!--I wish you good-night! Yours ever.
(595) Hardouin de P`er`efixe's Histoire du Roi Henri le Grand
appeared in 1661. He is stated, by the editor Of the Biog.
Univ. to be the best historian of that monarch, and the work
has been translated in many languages. He was appointed
preceptor to Louis XIV. in 1644, and Archbishop of Paris in
1622. He died in 1670.-E.
268 Letter 144
To Sir Horace Mann.
Mistley, August 21, 1755. '
I shall laugh at you for taking so seriously what I said to
you about my Lady Orford. Do you think, my dear Sir, that at
this time I can want to learn your zeal for us? or can you
imagine that I did not approve for your own sake your keeping
fair terms with the Countess? If I do not much forget, I even
recommended it to you--but let us talk no more of her; she has
engrossed more paragraphs in our letters than she deserves.
I promised you a brisk war: we have done our part, but can I
help it, if the French will not declare it?-if they are
backward, and cautious, and timorous; if they are afraid of
provoking too far SO great a power as England, who threatens
the liberties of Europe? I laugh, but how not to laugh at
such a world as this! Do you remember the language of the last
war? What were our apprehensions? Nay, at the conclusion of
the peace, nothing was laid down for a maxim but the
impossibility of our engaging in another war; that our
national debt was at its ne plus ultra; and that on the very
next discussion France must swallow us up! Now we are all
insolent, alert, and triumphant: nay the French talk of
nothing but guarding against our piracies, and travel Europe
to give the alarm against such an overbearing power as we are.
On their coasts they are alarmed--I mean the common people; I
scarce believe they who know any thing, are in real dread of
invasion from us! Whatever be the reason, they don't declare
war: some think they wait for the arrival of their Martinico
fleet. You will ask why we should not attack that too? They
tell one, that if we began hostilities in Europe, Spain would
join the French. Some believe that the latter are not ready:
certain it is, Mirepoix gave them no notice nor suspicion of
our flippancy; and he is rather under a cloud--indeed this has
much undeceived me in one point: I took him for the ostensible
mister; but little thought that they had not some secret agent
of better head, some priest, some Scotch or Irish Papist-or
perhaps some English Protestant, to give them better
intelligence. But don't you begin to be impatient for the
events of all our West Indian expeditions? The Duke,(596) who
is now the soul of the Regency, and who on all hands is
allowed to make a great figure there, is much dissatisfied at
the slowness of General Braddock, who does not march as if he
was at all impatient to be scalped. It is said for him, that
he has had bad guides, that the roads are exceedingly
difficult, and that it was necessary to drag as much artillery
as he does. This is not the first time, as witness in
Hawley,(597) that the Duke has found that brutality did not
necessarily consummate a general. I love to give you an idea
of our characters as they rise upon the stage of history.
Braddock is a very Iroquois in disposition. He had a sister,
who having gamed away all her little fortune at Bath, hanged
herself(598) with a truly English deliberation, leaving only a
note upon the table with those lines "To die is landing on
some silent shore," etc. When Braddock was told of it, he
only said, "Poor Fanny! I always thought she would play till
she would be forced to tuck herself up!"' But a more
ridiculous story of him, and which is recorded in heroics by
Fielding in his Covent-Garden tragedy, was an amorous
discussion he had formerly with a Mrs. Upton, who had kept
him. He had gone the greatest lengths with her pin-money, and
was still craving. One day that he was very pressing, she
pulled out her purse and showed him that she had but twelve or
fourteen shillings left; he twitched it from her, "Let me see
that." Tied up at the other end he found five guineas; he
took them, tossed the empty purse in her face, saying, "Did
you mean to cheat me?" and never went near her more:--now you
are acquainted with General Braddock.
We have some royal negotiations proceeding in Germany, which
are not likely to give quite so much satisfaction to the
Parliament of next winter, as our French triumphs give to the
City, where nothing is so popular as the Duke of Newcastle.
There is a certain Hessian treaty, said to be eighteen years
long, which is arrived at the Treasury, Legge refused
peremptorily to sign it--you did not expect patriotism from
thence? It will not make him popular: there is not a mob in
England now capable of being the dupe of patriotism; the late
body of that denomination have really so discredited it, that
a minister must go great lengths indeed before the people
would dread him half so much as a patriot! On the contrary, I
believe nothing would make any man so popular, or conciliate
so much affection to his ministry, as to assure the people
that he never had nor ever would pretend to love his country.
Legge has been frowned upon by the Duke of Newcastle ever
since he was made chancellor of the exchequer by him, and
would have been turned out long ago if Sir George Lee would
have accepted the post. I am sorry that just when Tuscany is
at war with Algiers, your countrymen should lie under the
odour of piracy too; it will give Richcourt opportunities of
saying very severe things to you!--Barbarossa our Dey is not
returned yet-we fear he is going to set his grandson(599) up
in a seraglio; and as we have not, among other Mahometan
customs, copied the use of the bowstring for repressing the
luxuriancy of the royal branches, we shall be quite overrun
with young Sultans! Adieu!
(596) The Duke of Cumberland.
(597) General Hawley, who behaved with great cruelty and
brutality in the Scotch rebellion, which did not however
Prevent his being beaten by the rebels,-D.
(598) The story of this unfortunate young lady is told by
Goldsmith, in his amusing Life of Beau Nash, introduced into
the new and @greatly enlarged edition of his "Miscellaneous
Works," published by Mr. Murray, in 1837, in four volumes
octavo. See vol. iii. p. 294. According to the poet, the
lines which were written on one of the panes of the window,
were these:-
"O Death! thou pleasing end of human wo!
Thou cure for life! thou greatest good below!
Still may'st thou fly the coward and the slave,
And thy soft slumbers only bless the brave."-E.
(599) The King had a mind to marry the Prince of Wales to a
Princess of Brunswick.
270 Letter 145
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, August 28, 1755.
My last letter to you could not be got out of England, before
I might have added a melancholy supplement. Accounts of a
total defeat of Braddock, and his forces are arrived from
America; the purport is, that the General having arrived
within a few miles of Fort du Quesne, (I hope you are perfect
in your American geography?) sent an advanced party, under
Lord Gage's brother: they were fired upon, invisibly, as they
entered a wood; Braddock heard guns, and sent another party to
support the former; but the first fell back in confusion on
the second, and the second on the main body. The whole was in
disorder, and it is said, the General himself', though
exceedingly brave, did not retain all the sang froid that was
necessary. The common soldiers in general, fled; the officers
stood heroically and were massacred: our Indians were not
surprised, and behaved gallantly. The General had five horses
shot under him, no bad symptoms of his spirit, and at last was
brought off by two Americans, no English daring, though
Captain Orme,(600) his aid-de-camp, who is wounded too, and
has made some noise here by an affair of gallantry, offered
Sixty guineas to have him conveyed away. We have lost
twenty-six officers, besides many wounded, and ten pieces of
artillery. Braddock lived four days, in great torment.(601)
What makes the rout more shameful is, that instead of a great
pursuit, and a barbarous massacre by the Indians, which is
always to be feared in these rencontres, not a black or white
soul followed our troops, but we had leisure two days
afterwards to fetch off our dead. In short, our American
laurels are strangely blighted! We intended to be in great
alarms for Carolina and Virginia, but the small number of our
enemies had reduced this affair to a panic. We pretend to be
comforted on the French deserting Fort St. John, and on the
hopes we have from two other expeditions which are on foot in
that part of the world-but it is a great drawback on English
heroism I pity you who represent the very flower of British
courage ingrafted on a Brunswick stock!
I have already given you some account of Braddock; I may
complete the poor man's history in a few more words: he once
had a duel with Colonel Gumley, Lady Bath's(602) brother, who
had been his great friend: as they were going to engage,
Gumley, who had good humour and wit, (Braddock had the
latter,) said "Braddock, you are a poor dog! here take my
purse; if you kill me you will be forced to run away, and then
you will not have a shilling to support you." Braddock refused
the purse, insisted on' the duel, was disarmed, and would not
even ask his life. However, with all his brutality, he has
lately been Governor of Gibraltar, where he made himself
adored, and where scarce any Governor was endured before.
Adieu! Pray don't let any detachment from Pannoni's(603) be
sent against us--we should run away!
(600) He married the sister of George Lord Townshend, without
the consent of her family.
(601) Walpole, in his Memoires, says, that "he dictated an
encomium on his officers, and expired."-D.
(602) Elizabeth Gumley, wife of William Pulteny, Earl of Bath.
(603) Pannoni's coffeehouse of the Florentine nobility, not
famous for their courage of late.
271 Letter 146
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, August 28, 1755.
Our piratic laurels, with which the French have so much
reproached us, have been exceedingly pruned! Braddock is
defeated and killed, by a handful of Indians and by the
baseness of his own troops, who sacrificed him and his gallant
officers. Indeed, there is some suspicion that cowardice was
not the motive, but resentment at having been draughted from
Irish regiments. Were such a desertion universal, could one
but commend@it'@ Could one blame men who should refuse to be
knocked on the head for sixpence a day, and for the advantage
and dignity of a few ambitious? But in this case one pities
the brave young @officers, who cannot so easily disfranchise
themselves from the prejudices of glory! Our disappointment
is greater than our loss; six-and-twenty officers are killed,
who, I suppose, have not left a vast many fatherless and
widowless, as an old woman told me to-day with great
tribulation. The ministry have a much more serious affair on
their hands-Lord Lincoln and Lord Anson have had a dreadful
quarrel! Coquus teterrima belli causa! When Lord Mountford
shot himself, Lord Lincoln said, "Well, I am very sorry for
poor Mountford! but it is the part of a wise man to make the
best of every misfortune-I shall now have the best cook in
England." This was uttered before Lord Anson. Joras,(604)--
who is a man of extreme punctilio, as cooks and officers ought
to be, would not be hired till he knew whether this Lord
Mountford would retain him. When it was decided that he would
not, Lord Lincoln proposed to hire Joras. Anson had already
engaged him. Such a breach of friendship was soon followed by
an expostulation (there was jealousy of the Duke of
Newcastle's favour already under the coals): in short the
nephew earl called the favourite earl such gross names, that
it was well they were ministers! otherwise, as Mincing says,
"I vow, I believe they must have fit." The public, that is
half-a-dozen toad-eaters, have great hopes that the present
unfavourable posture of affairs in America will tend to cement
this breach, and that we shall all unite hand and heart
against the common enemy.
I returned the night before last from my peregrination. It is
very unlucky for me that no crown of martyrdom is entailed on
zeal for antiquities; I should be a rubric martyr of the first
class. After visiting the new salt-water baths at Harwich,
(which, next to horse-racing, grows the most fashionable
resource for people who want to get out of town, and who love
the country and retirement!) I went to see Orford castle, and
Lord Hertford's at Sudborn. The one is a ruin, and the other
ought to be so. Returning in a one-horse chair over a wild
vast heath, I went out of the road to see the remains of
Buttley Abbey; which however I could not see; for, as the keys
of Orford castle were at Sudborn, so the keys of Buttley were
at Orford! By this time it was night; we lost our way, were in
excessive rain for above two hours, and only found our way to
be overturned into the mire the next morning going into
Ipswich. Since that I went to see an old house built by
Secretary Naunton.(605) His descendant, who is a strange
retired creature, was unwilling to let us see it; but we did,
and little in it worth seeing. The house never was fine, and
is now out of repair; has a bed with ivory pillars and loose
rings, presented to the secretary by some German prince or
German artist; and a small gallery of indifferent portraits,
among which there are scarce any worth notice but of the Earl
of Northumberland, Anna Bullen's lover, and of Sir Antony
Wingfield, who having his hand tucked into his girdle, the
housekeeper told us, had had his fingers cut off by Harry
VIII. But Harry VIII. was not a man pour s'arr`eter `a ces
minuties la!
While we waited for leave to see the house, I strolled into
the churchyard, and was struck with a little door open into
the chancel, through the arch of which I discovered
cross-legged knights and painted tombs! In short, there are
no less than eight considerable monuments, very perfect, of
Wingfields, Nauntons, and a Sir John Boynet and his wife, as
old as Richard the Second's time. But what charmed me still
more, were two figures of Secretary Naunton's father and
mother in the window in painted glass, near two feet high, and
by far the finest painting on glass I ever saw. His figure,
in a puffed doublet, breeches and bonnet, and cloak of scarlet
and yellow, is absolutely perfect: her shoulder is damaged.
This church, which is scarce bigger than a large chapel, is
very ruinous, though containing such treasures! Besides
these, there are brasses on the pavement, with a succession of
all the wonderful head-dresses which our plain virtuous
grandmothers invented to tempt our rude and simple ancestors.-
-I don't know what our nobles might be, but I am sure that
Milliners three or four hundred years ago must have been more
accomplished in the arts, as Prynne calls them, of crisping,
curling, frizzling, and frouncing, than all the tirewomen of
Babylon, modern Paris, or modern Pall-Mall. Dame Winifred
Boynet, whom I mentioned above, is accoutered with the
coiffure called piked horns, which, if there were any signs in
Lothbury and Eastcheap, must have brushed them about
strangely, as their ladyships rode behind their gentlemen
ushers! Adieu!
(604) The name of the cook in question.
(605) Sir Robert Naunton, master of the court of wards. He
wrote Anecdotes of Queen Elizabeth and her favourites.
273 Letter 147
To The Rev. Henry Etough.(606)
Woolterton, Sept. 10, 1755.
Dear Etough,
I cannot forbear any longer to acknowledge the many favours
from you lately; your last was the 8th of this month. His
Majesty's speedy arrival among his British subjects is very
desirable and necessary, whatever may be the chief motive for
his making haste. As to Spain, I have from the beginning told
my friends, when they asked, both in town and country, that I
was at all apprehensive that Spain would join with France
against us; for this plain reason, because it could not
possibly be the interest of the Spaniards to do it for should
the views of the French take place in making a line of forts
from the Mississippi to Canada, and of being masters of the
whole of that extent of country, Peru and Mexico, and Florida,
would be in more danger from them than the British settlements
in America.
Mr. Fowle has made me a visit for a few days, and communicated
to me your two pieces relating to my brother and Lord
Bolingbroke, and I think you do great justice to them both in
their very different and opposite characters; but you will
give me leave to add with respect to Lord Orford, there are
several mistakes and misinformations, of which I am persuaded
I could convince you by conversation, but my observations are
not proper for a letter. Of this more fully when I see you,
but when that will be I can't yet tell. I am ever most
affectionately yours, etc.
(606) The Rev. Henry Etough, of Pembroke-hall, Cambridge. He
received his education among the Dissenters, and Archbishop
Secker and Dr. 'Birch were among his schoolfellows. Through
the interest of Sir Robert Walpole, he was presented to the
rectory of Therfield, in Hertfordshire; where he died, in his
seventieth year, in August 1757.-E.
273 Letter 148
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, September 18, 1755.
My dear sir,
After an expectation of six weeks, I have received a letter
from you, dated August 23d. Indeed I did not impute any
neglect to you; I knew it arose from the war; but Mr. S. * * *
* tells me the packets will now be more regular.--Mr. S * * *
tells me!--What, has he been in town, or at Strawberry?--No;
but I have been at Southampton: I was at the Vine; and on the
arrival of a few fine days, the first we have had this summer,
after a deluge, Mr. Chute persuaded me to take a jaunt to
Winchester and Netley Abbey, with the latter of which he is
very justly enchanted. I was disappointed in Winchester: it
is a paltry town, and small: King Charles the Second's house
is the worst thing I ever saw of Sir Christopher Wren, a
mixture of a town-hall and an hospital; not to mention the bad
choice of the situation in such a country; it is all ups that
should be downs. I talk to you as supposing that you never
have been at Winchester, though I suspect you have, for the
entrance of the cathedral is the very idea of that of Mabland.
I like the smugness of the cathedral, and the profusion of the
most beautiful Gothic tombs. That of Cardinal Beaufort is in
a style more free and of more taste than any thing I have seen
of the kind. His figure confirms me in my opinion that I have
struck out the true history of the picture that I bought of
Robinson; and which I take for the marriage of Henry VI.
Besides the monuments of the Saxon Kings, of Lucius, William
Rufus, his brother, etc. there are those of six such great or
considerable men as Beaufort, William of Wickham, him of
Wainfleet, the Bishops Fox and Gardiner, and my Lord Treasurer
Portland.--How much power and ambition under half-a-dozen
stones! I own, I grow to look on tombs as lasting mansions,
instead of observing them for curious pieces of architecture!-
-Going into Southampton, I passed Bevismount, where my Lord
Peterborough
"Hung his trophies o'er his garden gate;"(607)
but General Mordaunt was there, and we could not see it. We
walked long by moonlight on the terrace along the beach-
-Guess, if we talked of and wished for you! The town is
crowded; sea-baths are established there too. But how shall I
describe Netley to you? I can only by telling YOU, that it is
the spot in the world for which Mr. Chute and I wish. The
ruins are vast, and retain fragments of beautiful fretted
roofs pendent in the air, With all variety of Gothic patterns
of windows wrapped round and round with ivy-many trees are
sprouted up amongst the walls, and Only want to be increased
with cypresses! A hill rises above the abbey encircled with
wood: the fort, in which we would build a tower for
habitation, remains with two small platforms. This little
castle is buried from the abbey in a wood, in the very centre,
on the edge of the hill: on each side breaks in the view of
the Southampton sea, deep blue, glistering with silver and
vessels; on one side terminated by Southampton, on the other
by Calshot castle; and the Isle of Wight rising above the
opposite hills. In short, they are not the ruins of Netley,
but of Paradise.--OH! the purple abbots, what a spot had they
chosen to slumber in! The scene is so beautifully tranquil,
that they seem only to have retired into the world.(608)
I know nothing of the war, but that we catch little French
ships like crawfish. They have taken one of ours with
Governor Lyttelton(609) going to South Carolina. He is a very
worthy young man, but so stiffened with Sir George's old
fustian, that I am persuaded he is at this minute in the
citadel of Nantes comparing himself to Regulus.
Gray has lately been here. He has begun an Ode,(610) which if
he finishes equally, will, I think, inspirit all your drawing
again. It is founded on an old tradition of Edward 1. putting
to death the Welsh bards. Nothing but you, or Salvator Rosa,
and Nicolo Poussin, can paint up to the expressive horror and
dignity of it. Don't think I mean to flatter you; all I would
say is, that now the two latter are dead, you must of
necessity be Gray's painter. In order to keep your talent
alive, I shall next week send you flake white, brushes, oil,
and the enclosed directions from Mr. Muntz, who is still at
the Vine, and whom, for want of you, we labour hard to form.
I shall put up in the parcel two or three prints of my eagle,
which, as you never would draw it, is very moderately
performed; and yet the drawing was much better than the
engraving. I shall send you too a trifling snuff-box, only as
a sample of the new manufacture at Battersea, which is done
with copper-plates. Mr. Chute is at the Vine, where I cannot
say any works go on in proportion to my impatience. I have
left him an inventionary of all I want to have done there; but
I believe it may be bound up with the century of projects of
that foolish Marquis of Worcester, who printed a catalogue of
titles of things which he gave no directions to execute, nor I
believe could.(611) Adieu!
(607) "Our Gen'rals now, retired to their estate,
Hang their old trophies o'er the garden gate."
Pope, in this couplet, is said to have alluded to the entrance
of Lord Peterborough's lawn at Bevismount.-E.
(608) Gray, who visited Netley Abbey in the preceding month,
calls it "a most beautiful ruin in as beautiful a
situation."-E.
(609) william Henry, brother of Sir George, afterwards Lord
Lyttelton. The man-of-war in which he was proceeding to South
Carolina was captured by the French squadron under Count Guay,
and sent into Nantes, but was shortly afterwards restored.-E.
(610) "The Bard" was commenced this year, but was for some
time left unfinished; but the accident of seeing a blind
Harper (Mr. Parry) perform on a Welsh harp, again put his Ode
in motion, and brought it at last to a conclusion, See Works,
vol. i. p. xxxiii.-E.
(611) Vol. i. letter 259 to H. S. Conway, Aug. 29, 1748.
275 Letter 149
To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 23, 1755.
Dear harry,
Never make me excuses for a letter that tells me so many
agreeable things -as your last; that you are got well to
Dublin;(612) that you are all well, and that you have
accommodated all your politics to your satisfaction--and I may
be allowed to say, greatly to your credit 'What could you tell
me that would please me so much When I have indulged a little
my joy for your success and honour, it is natural to consider
the circumstances you have told me; and you will easily excuse
me if I am not quite as much satisfied with the conduct of
your late antagonists, as I with yours. You have
tranquillized a nation, have repaired your master's honour,
and secured the peace of your administration;-but what shall
one say to the Speaker, Mr. Malone and the others? Don't they
confess that they have gone the greatest lengths, and risked
the safety of their country on a mere personal pique? If they
did not contend for profit, like our patriots (and you don't
tell me that they have made any lucrative stipulations), yet
it is plain that their ambition had been wounded, and that
they resented their power being crossed. But I, Who am Whig
to the backbone, indeed in the strictest sense of the word,
feel hurt in a tenderer point, and which you,. who are a
minister, must not allow me: I am offended at their agreeing
to an address that avows such deference for prerogative, and
that is to protest so deeply against having to attack it.
However rebel this may sound at your court, my Gothic spirit
is hurt; I do not love such loyal expressions from a
Parliament. I do not so much consider myself writing to
Dublin castle, as from Strawberry castle, where you know how I
love to enjoy my liberty. I give myself the airs, in my
nutshell, of an old baron, and am tempted almost to say with
an old Earl of Norfolk, who was a very free speaker at least,
if he was not an excellent poet,
"When I am in my castle of Bungey,
Situate upon the river Waveney,
I ne care for the King of cockney."
I have been roving about Hampshire, have been at Winchester
and Southampton and twenty places, and have been but one day
in London --consequently know as little news as if I had been
shut up in Bungey castle. Rumours there are of great
bickerings and uneasiness; but I don't believe there will be
any bloodshed of places, except Legge's, which nobody seems
willing to take-I mean as a sinecure. His Majesty of Cockney
is returned exceedingly well, but grown a little out of humour
at finding that we are not so much pleased with all the
Russians and Hessians that he has hired to recover the Ohio.
We are an ungrateful people! Make a great many compliments
for me to my Lady Ailesbury; I own I am in pain about Missy.
As my lady is a little coquette herself, and loves crowds and
admiration, and a court life, it will be very difficult for
her to keep a strict eye upon Missy. The Irish are very
forward and bold:--I say no more but it would hurt you both
extremely to have her marry herself idly and I think my Lord
Chancellor has not extended his matrimonial foresight to
Ireland. However, I have much confidence in Mrs. Elizabeth
Jones:(613) I am sure, when they were here, she would never
let Missy whisper with a boy that was old enough to speak.
Adieu! As the winter advances, and plots thicken, I will write
you letters that shall have a little more in them than this.
In the mean time I am going to Bath, not for my health, you
know I never am ill, but for my amusement. I never was there,
and at present there are several of my acquaintance. The
French academy have chosen my Lord Chesterfield, and he has
written them a letter of thanks. that is the finest
composition in the world - indeed, I was told so by those who
have not seen it; but they would have told me so if they had
seen it, whether it was the finest or the worst; suffices it
to be his! Yours ever.
(612) mr. Conway was now secretary of state to the Marquis of
Hartington, lord lieutenant of Ireland.
(613) Miss Conway's nurse.
277 Letter 150
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Sept. 29, 1755.
It is not that I am perjured for not writing to you oftener,
as I promised; the war is forsworn. We do all we can; we
take, from men-of-war and Domingo-men, down to colliers and
cock-boats, and from California into the very Bay of Calais.
The French have taken but one ship from us, the Blandford, and
that they have restored--but I don't like this drowsy civil
lion; it will put out a talon and give us a cursed scratch
before we are aware. Monsieur de seychelles, who grows into
power, is labouring at their finances and marine: they have
struck off their sous-fermiers, and by a reform in what they
call the King's pleasures, have already saved 1,200,000 pounds
sterling a year. Don't go and imagine that 1,200,000 pounds
was all stink in the gulf of Madame Pompadour, or even in
suppers and hunting; under the word the King's pleasures, they
really comprehended his civil list; and in that light I don't
know why our civil list might not be called another King's
pleasures(614) too, though it is not all entirely squandered.
In short, the single article of coffee for the Mesdames(615)
amounted to 3000 pounds sterling a year--to what must their
rouge have amounted?--but it is high time to tell you of other
wars, than the old story of France and England. You must
know, not in your ministerial capacity, for I suppose that is
directed by such old geographers as Sanson and De Lisle, who
imagined that Herenhausen was a town in Germany, but according
to the latest discoveries, there is such a county in England
as Hanover, which lying very much exposed to the incursions of
the French and Prussians (the latter are certain hussars in
the French army), it has been thought necessary to hire
Russians, and Hessians, and all the troops that lie nearest to
the aforesaid weak part of Great Britain called Hanover, in
order to cover this frontier from any invasion. The
expedience of this measure was obvious; yet many People who
could not get over the prejudice of education, or who having
got over these prejudices have for certain reasons returned to
them, these Ptolemaic geographers Will not be persuaded that
there is any such county in England as Hanover, and not
finding it in their old maps, or having burnt their new ones
in a passion--(Mr. Legge, indeed, tore his at the treasury
board the day that the warrant for the Hessian subsidy came
thither)--they determined that England had no occasion for
these mercenaries. Besides Legge, the Duke of Devonshire, the
Speaker, Sir George Lee, and one MR. William Pitt, a man
formerly remarkable for disputing the new geography, declared
strongly against the system of treaties.(616) Copernicus no
sooner returned from Germany, than the Duke of Newcastle, who
had taken the alarm, frightened him out of his wits. In
short, they found that they should have no Professor to defend
the new system in Parliament. Every body was tried--when
every body had refused, and the Duke of Newcastle was ready to
throw up the cards, he determined to try Fox,(617) who, by the
mediation of Lord Granville, has accepted the seals, is to be
secretary of state, is to have the conduct of the House of
Commons, and is, I think-very soon to be first minister-or
what one has known to happen to some who of very late years
have joined to support a tottering administration, is to be
ruined. Indeed, he seems sensible of the alternative,
professes no cordiality to Duke Trinculo, who is viceroy over
him, but is listing Bedford's, and whoever will list with him,
as fast as he can. One who has been his predecessor in
suffering by such an alliance, my Lord Chesterfield, told him,
"Well, the Duke of Newcastle has turned out every body else,
and now he has turned out himself." Sir Thomas Robinson is to
return to the great wardrobe, with an additional pension on
Ireland of 2000 pounds a year. This is turning a cipher into
figures indeed! Lord Barrington is to be secretary at war.
This change, however, is not to take place till after the
Parliament is met, which is not till the 13th of' next month,
because Mr. Fox is to preside at the Cockpit the night before
the House opens. How Mr. Legge will take his deposition is
not known. He has determined not to resign, but to be turned
out; I should think this would satisfy his scruples, even if
he had made a vow against resigning.
As England grows turbulent again, Ireland grows calm again.
Mr. Conway, who has gone thither secretary to Lord Hartington,
has with great prudence and skill pacified that kingdom: you
may imagine that I am not a little happy at his acquiring
renown. The Primate is to be the peace-offering.
If there were any private news, as there are none, I could not
possibly to-day step out of my high historical pantoufles to
tell it you. Adieu! You know I don't dislike to see the Kings
and queens and Knaves of this world shuffled backwards and
forwards; consequently I look on, very well amused, and very
indifferent whatever is trumps!
(614) Alluding to the King's love of money.
(615 The daughters of Louis the Fifteenth.-D.
(616) The following is from Dodington's Diary:-"Sept. 3. Mr.
Pitt told me, that he had painted to the Duke of Newcastle all
the ill Consequences of this system of subsidies in the
strongest light that his imagination could furnish him with:
he had deprecated his Grace not to complete the ruin which the
King had nearly brought upon himself by his journey to
Hanover, which all people should have prevented, even with
their bodies. A King abroad, at this time, without one man
about him that has one English sentiment, and to bring home a
whole set of subsidies! That he was willing to promote the
King's service; but if this was what he was sent for to
promote, few words were best--nothing in the world should
induce him to consent to these subsidies."-E.
(617) " Fox must again be treated with; for the session of
Parliament approached, and it was become a general maxim, that
the House of Commons had been so much accustomed to have a
minister of its own, they would not any longer be governed by
deputy. Fox insisted on being made secretary of state, much
against the King's inclination, as well as the Duke of
Newcastle's: for though his Majesty preferred Fox to Pitt, he
liked Sir Thomas Robinson better than either of them; for Sir
Thomas did -is he was directed, understood foreign affairs,
and pretended to nothing further. However, Fox carried his
point." Waldegrave's Memoirs, p. 51.-E.
279 Letter 151
To John Chute, Esq.(618)
Arlington Street, Sept. 29, 1755.
I should not answer your letter so soon, as you write so
often, if I had not something particular to tell you. Mr. Fox
is to be secretary of state. The history of this event, in
short, is this: George Elector of Hanover, and Thomas King of
England, have been exceedingly alarmed. By some
misapprehension, the Russian and Hessian treaties, the
greatest blessings that were ever calculated for this country,
have been totally, and almost universally disapproved. Mr.
Legge grew conscientious about them; the Speaker,
constitutional; Mr. Pitt, patriot; Sir George Lee. scrupulous;
Lord Egmont, uncertain; the Duke of Devonshire, something that
he meant for some of these; and my uncle, I suppose, frugal--
how you know. Let a Parliament be ever so ready to vote for
any thing, yet if every body in both Houses is against a
thing, why the Parliament itself can't carry a point against
both Houses. This made such a dilemma, that, after trying
every body else, and being ready to fling up themselves, King
Thomas and his Chancellor offered Mr. Fox the honour of
defending and saving them. He, who is all Christian charity,
and forgiving every body but himself and those who dissuaded
him, for not taking the seals before, consented to undertake
the cause of the treaties, and is to have the management of
the House Of Commons as long as he can keep it. In the mean
time, to give his new friends all the assistance he can, he is
endeavouring to bring the Bedfords to court; and if any other
person in the world hates King Thomas, why Mr. Fox is very
willing to bring them to court too. In the mean time, Mr.
Pitt is scouring his old Hanoverian trumpet and Mr. Legge is
to accompany him with his hurdy-gurdy.
Mr. Mann did not tell me a word of his intending you a visit.
The reason the Dacres have not been with you is, they have
been at court; and as at present there are as many royal hands
to kiss as a Japanese idol has, it takes some time to slobber
through the whole ceremony.
I have some thoughts of going to Bath for a week; though I
don't know whether my love for my country, while my country is
in a quandary, may not detain me hereabouts. When Mr. Muntz
has done, you will be so good as to pacquet him up, and send
him to Strawberry. I rather wish you would bring him
yourself; I am impatient for the drawing you announce to me.
A commission has passed the seals, I mean of' secrecy, (for I
don't know whether they must not be stole,) to get you some
swans; and as in this age one ought not to despair of any
thing where robbery is concerned, I have some hopes of
succeeding. If you should want any French ships for your
water, there are great numbers to be had cheap, and small
enough. Adieu!