Commissioner of Excise, or secretary to the British Legation at
Paris, where the Duke of Manchester was at this time ambassador.
The latter post was given to Anthony Morris Storer, M.P. for
Morpeth, one of the Admirable Crichtons of the day, celebrated as
a dancer, skater, gymnast, musician, and writer of Latin verse.
His magnificent library he left to Eton College at his death in
1799. Fox, no doubt, used his influence on this occasion against
Gibbon. His lines have been already quoted. Another illustration
of his impression that Gibbon was bought by a place is afforded
by the following extract from Walpole's _Journal of the Reign
of King George III. from the Year 1771 to 1783_, vol. ii. p.
464. "June 28, 1781: Last week was sold by auction the very
valuable library of an honourable representative" (C. J. Fox) "of
Westminster, and which had been taken, with all his effects, in
execution. Amongst the books there was Mr. Gibbon's first volume
of the _Roman History_, and which appeared by the title-page
to have been given by the author to his honourable friend, who
thought proper to subscribe the following anecdote:--'The author
at Brookes's said, there was no salvation for this country until
six heads of the principal persons in Administration were laid
on the table. Eleven days after, this same gentleman accepted
a place of Lord of Trade under those very Ministers, and has
acted with them ever since.' Such was the avidity of bidders for
the smallest production of so wonderful a genius, that by the
addition of this little record the book sold for three guineas."
477.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Thursday, September 11th, 1783.
*The scheme (which you may impart to My lady) is compleatly vanished,
and I support the disappointment with Heroic patience. Crauford
goes down to Chatsworth to-morrow, and Fox does not recommend my
waiting for the event; yet the appointment is not yet declared, and
I am ignorant of the name and merits of my successful competitor.
Is it not wonderful that I am still in suspense, without a letter
from Deyverdun? No, it is not wonderful, since no Flanders mail is
arrived: to-morrow three will be due. I am therefore in a miserable
state of doubt and anxiety; in a much better house indeed than my
own, but without books, or business, or society. I send or call
two or three times each day to Elmsley's, and can only say that I
shall fly the next day, Saturday, Sunday, &c. after I have got my
_quietus_.*
Aunt Kitty was delighted with Mylady's letter; at her age, and in
her situation, every kind attention is pleasant. I took my leave
this morning; and as I did not wish to repeat the scene, and thought
she would be better at Sheffield, I suffer her to go to-morrow. Your
discretion will communicate or withhold any tidings of my departure
or delay as you judge most expedient. Christie writes to you this
post; he talks, in his rhetorical way, of many purchasers. Do you
approve of his fixing a day for the Auction? To us he talked of an
indefinite advertisement.
*No news, except that we keep Negapatnam.[58] The other day the
French Ambassador mentioned that the Empress of Russia, a precious
B----, had proposed to ratify the principles of the armed neutrality,
by a definitive treaty, but that the French, obliging creatures! had
declared that they would neither propose nor accept an article so
disagreable to England. Grey Elliot was pleased with your attention,
and says you are a perfect master of the subject.[59] Adieu. If I
could be sure that no mail would arrive to-morrow, I would run down
with my aunt. My heart is not light. I embrace My lady with true
affection, but I need not repeat it.
E. G.
[58] By Article IV. of the Treaty with the United Provinces.
[59] The policy of Great Britain towards America in matters of
trade, on which Lord Sheffield had spoken in April, 1783, and,
later in the same year, published a pamphlet.
478.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Downing Street, Friday, September 12th, 1783.
[Sidenote: DEPARTURE DELAYED.]
*Since my departure is near, and inevitable, you and Lady S. will be
rather sorry than glad to hear that I am detained, day after day,
by the caprice of the winds. _Three_ Flanders mails are now due. I
know not how to move without the final letter from Deyverdun, which
I expected a fortnight ago, and my fancy (perfectly unreasonable)
begins to create strange fantoms. A state of suspense is painful,
but it will be alleviated by the short notes which I mean to write,
and hope to receive, every post. A separation has some advantages,
though they are purchased with bitter pangs; among them is the
pleasure of knowing how dear we are to our friends, and how dear they
are to us. It will be a kind office to soothe Aunt Kitty's sorrows,
and to "rock the cradle of declining age." She will be vexed to hear
that I am not yet gone; but she is reasonable and chearful.* I am
grateful for Maria's attention to me or my corpse. Adieu.
Most truly yours,
E. G.
479.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Downing Street, Saturday, September 13th, 1783.
*_Enfin la Bombe a crevé._--The three Flanders mails are arrived this
day, but without any letters from Deyverdun. Most incomprehensible!
After many adverse reflections, I have finally resolved to begin
my journey on Monday; a heavy journey, with much apprehension, and
much regret. Yet I consider, 1st, That if he is alive and well,
(an unpleasant _if_,) scarcely any event can have happened to
disappoint our mutual wishes; and, 2dly, That, supposing the very
worst, even that worst would not overthrow my general plan of living
abroad, though it would derange my hopes of a quiet and delightful
establishment with my friend.* Upon the whole, without giving way to
melancholy fears, my reason conjectures that his indolence thought
it superfluous to write any more, that it was my business to act and
move, and his duty to sit still and receive me with open arms. At
least he is well informed of my operations, as I wrote to him (since
his last) July 31st, from Sheffield-place; August 19th; and this
week, September 9th. The two first have already reached him.
As I shall not arrive at, or depart from, Dover till Tuesday night,
(alas! I may be confined there a week,) you will have an opportunity,
by dispatching a parcel _per_ post to Elmsly's, to catch the Monday's
post. Let us improve these last short moments: I want to hear how
poor Kitty behaves. I am really impatient to be gone. It is provoking
to be so near, yet so far from, certain persons. *London is a
desert.* I dine to-morrow with the Paynes, who pass through. Lord
Loughborough was not returned from Buxton yesterday.* Sir H[enry]
C[linton][60] found me out this morning; with very little trouble My
Lady might rival Betsy; he talks with rapture of visits to be made
at Sheffield, and returned at Brighton. I envy him those visits more
than the red ribbon* or the glory of his American campaigns.
Adieu.
[60] Sir Henry Clinton succeeded Sir William Howe as
commander-in-chief in America in 1778. He was severely blamed for
leaving Cornwallis unsupported in the Southern Colonies, and for
the disaster at York Town in 1781. He died in 1795, as governor
of Gibraltar. His son, General Sir William Clinton, who served
with distinction in the Peninsular War, married Lord Sheffield's
second daughter, Lady Louisa Holroyd.
480.
_To his Stepmother._
Downing Street, Saturday, Sept. 13th, 1783.
MY DEAR MADAM,
You will be surprized to receive another letter from this place,
but I have been detained this whole week unpleasantly enough by the
daily expectation of a Flanders mail, though considering the state
of the winds and weather it is better to be detained in a good house
in Downing Street, than at the Ship at Dover. My departure is now
finally determined for Monday morning, and I travel with my own
horses. I shall lye at Sittingbourne, and not reach Dover till the
afternoon of the next day; my farther progress must depend on the
caprice of Neptune and Æolus, but the moment I have escaped from
their power I will send a line by the return of the packet.
Lord Sheffield spent two or three days with me in his way from
Coventry races into Sussex.
[Sidenote: KINDNESS OF THE SHEFFIELDS.]
Nothing could exceed, both in word and deed, his kindness and that
of his consort on the present occasion, which has indeed shewn me
how dear I am to my real friends. They have taken poor Mrs. Porten
down to Sheffield, and I am sure will contrive every thing that can
support and dissipate her spirits. They both expressed to me in
the most obliging terms how glad they should have been of a visit
from you; but your mind is firmer, and your prospects are far more
chearful than those of my poor Aunt. Adieu, my Dear Madam; though
I go with pleasure from party and dependence to a Philosophical
retreat, I cannot measure without a sigh the difference (in some
degree imaginary) between one, and six, hundred miles.
Ever yours,
E. G.
481.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Dover, Wednesday, September 17th, 1783,
Ten o'clock in the morning.
*The best laws are useless without proper guardians. Your letter
_per_ Sunday's post is not arrived, (as its fate is uncertain, and
irrevocable, you must repeat any material article,) but that _per_
Monday's post reached me last night. Oliver[61] is more insolent
than his grandfather; but you will cope with one, and would not have
been much afraid of the other. Last night the wind was so high, that
the vessel could not stir from the harbour; this day it is brisk and
fair. We start about one o'clock, are flattered with the hope of
making Calais harbour by the same tide, in three hours and a half;
but any delay will leave the disagreable option of a tottering boat
or a tossing night. What a cursed thing to live in an island! this
step is more awkward than the whole journey. The Triumvirate of
this memorable embarkation will consist of the grand Gibbon, Henry
Laurens,[62] Esquire, President of Congress, and Mr. Secretary,
Colonel, Admiral, Philosopher Thompson,[63] attended by three horses,
who are not the most agreeable fellow-passengers. If we survive, I
will finish and seal my letter at Calais. Our salvation shall be
ascribed to the prayers of My lady and Aunt; for I do believe they
both pray.
Boulogne, Thursday morning, ten o'clock.
Instead of Calais, the wind has driven us to Boulogne, where we
landed in the evening, with much noise and difficulty. The night is
passed, the Customhouse is dispatched, the post-horses are ordered,
and I shall start about eleven o'clock. I had not the least symptom
of sea sickness, while my companions were spewing round me. Laurens
has read the pamphlet,[64] and thinks it has done much mischief--a
good sign! Adieu, the Captain is impatient. I shall reach Lausanne by
the end of next week, but may probably write on the road.*
[61] Mr. Oliver Cromwell, a solicitor with whom Gibbon and
Lord Sheffield had business transactions. The Protector's son,
Henry Cromwell, married Lady Elizabeth Russell, and had, among
other children, a son, Henry, who was born in 1658. This son,
afterwards Major Henry Cromwell, married Mary Hewling. Their
grandson was this Mr. Oliver Cromwell of Cheshunt (1742-1821),
the great-great-grandson of the Protector.
[62] Henry Laurens had been detained as a prisoner in the Tower
since his capture in 1779.
[63] Sir Benjamin Thompson, Count of Rumford (1753-1814), was
born in Massachusetts. He was Secretary to the Province of
Georgia, and afterwards Under Secretary of State under Lord G.
Germain. He fought on the Loyalist side as a Colonel of Dragoons,
and also served as a volunteer on board H.M.S. _Victory_,
under Sir C. Hardy. His _Essays, Political, Economical, and
Philosophical_, were published at London in 1796-1802. He was
knighted by George III. in 1784, and became a Count of the Holy
Roman Empire in 1791.
[64] _Observations on the Commerce of the American States._ The
pamphlet was written by Lord Sheffield, but published anonymously
(London, 1783, 8vo). It reached a sixth edition in 1784, and was
translated into both French and German. In it Lord Sheffield
opposed Pitt's plan of relaxing the navigation laws in favour of
America.
482.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Langres, September 23rd, 1783.
[Sidenote: HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE.]
*Let the Geographical Maria place before you the map of France, and
trace my progress as far as this place, through the following towns:
Boulogne, (where I was forced to land,) St. Omer, (where I recovered
my road,) Aire, Bethune, Douay, Cambray, St. Quentin, La Fère, Laon,
Rheims, Chalons, St. Dizier, and Langres, where I have just finished
my supper. The Inns, in general, more agreable to the palate, than
to the sight or smell. But, with some short exceptions of time and
place, I have enjoyed good weather and good roads, and at the end of
the ninth day, I feel so little fatigued, that the journey appears
no more than a pleasant airing. I have generally conversed with
Homer and Lord Clarendon, often with Caplin and Muff;[65] sometimes
with the French postillions--of the above-mentioned animals the
least rational. To-morrow I lye at Besançon, and, according to the
arrangement of post or hired horses, shall either sup at Lausanne on
Friday, or dine there Saturday. I feel some suspense and uneasiness
with regard to Deyverdun; but in the scale both of reason and
constitution, my hopes preponderate very much above my fears. From
Lausanne I will immediately write. I embrace my lady. If Aunt Kitty's
gratitude and good breeding have not driven her away upon the first
whisper of Brighton, she will share this intelligence; if she is
gone, a line from you would be humane and attentive. "_Monsieur, les
Chevaux seront prêts à cinq heures._"--Adieu. I am going into an
excellent bed, about six feet high from the ground.*
[65] Gibbon's dog.
483.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Lausanne, September 30th, 1783.
*I arrived safe in harbour last Saturday, the 27th instant, about ten
o'Clock in the morning; but as the post only goes out twice a week,
it was not in my power to write before this day. Except one day,
between Langres and Besançon, which was laborious enough, I finished
my easy and gentle airing without any fatigue, either of mind or
body. I found Deyverdun well and happy, but much more happy at the
sight of a friend, and the accomplishment of a scheme which he had so
long and impatiently desired. His garden, terrace, and _park_, have
even exceeded the most sanguine of my expectations and remembrances;
and you yourself cannot have forgotten the charming prospect of the
Lake, the mountains, and the declivity of the Pays de Vaud. But as
human life is perpetually checquered with good and evil, I have found
some disappointments on my arrival. The easy nature of Deyverdun,
his indolence, and his impatience, had prompted him to reckon too
positively that his house would be vacant at Michaelmas; some
unforeseen difficulties have arisen, or have been discovered when it
was already too late, and the consummation of our hopes is (I am much
afraid) postponed to next spring. At first I was knocked down by the
unexpected thunderbolt, but I have gradually been reconciled to my
fate, and have granted a free and gracious pardon to my friend. As
his own apartment, which afforded me a temporary shelter, is much too
narrow for a settled residence, we hired for the winter a convenient
ready furnished apartment in the nearest part of the Rue de Bourg,
whose back door leads in three steps to the terrace and garden, as
often as a tolerable day shall tempt us to enjoy their beauties;
and this arrangement has even its advantage, of giving us time to
deliberate and provide, before we enter on a larger and more regular
establishment.
[Sidenote: THE ABBÉ RAYNAL.]
But this is not the sum of my misfortunes; hear, and pity! The day
after my arrival (Sunday) we had just finished a very temperate
dinner, and intended to begin a round of visits on foot, _chapeau
sous le bras_, when, most unfortunately, Deyverdun proposed to show
me something in the Court; we boldly and successfully ascended a
flight of stone steps, but in the descent I missed my footing, and
strained, or sprained, my ancle in a painful manner. My old latent
Enemy, (I do not mean the Devil,) who is always on the watch, has
made an ungenerous use of his advantage, and I much fear that my
arrival at Lausanne will be marked with a fit of the Gout, though it
is quite unnecessary that the intelligence or suspicion should find
its way to Bath. Yesterday afternoon I lay, or at least sat, in state
to receive visits, and at the same moment my room was filled with
four different nations. The loudest of these nations was the single
voice of the Abbé Raynal,[66] who, like your friend, has chosen
this place for the azylum of freedom and history. His conversation,
which might be very agreable, is intolerably loud, peremptory, and
insolent; and you would imagine that he alone was the Monarch and
legislator of the World.
Adieu. I embrace My lady, and the infants.* Inform Maria that my
accident has prevented me from looking out for a proper spot for my
interment. *With regard to the important transactions for which you
are constituted Plenipotentiary, I expect with some impatience, but
with perfect confidence, the result of your labours. You may remember
what I mentioned of my conversation with Charles Fox about the place
of Minister at Bern: I have talked it over with Deyverdun, who does
not dislike the idea, provided this place was allowed to be my Villa,
during at least two-thirds of the Year; but for my part, I am sure
that* a thousand guineas *is worth more than Ministerial friendship
and gratitude; so I am inclined to think, that they are preferable
to an office which would be procured with difficulty, enjoyed with
constraint and expence, and lost, perhaps, next April, in the annual
Revolutions of our domestic Government. Again Adieu.*
[66] The Abbé Raynal (1713-1796) published in 1770 his _Histoire
philosophique des établissements et du commerce des Européens
dans les deux Indes_. The work was put on the Index for its
anti-religious tendency. His book, says Michelet, was for
twenty years the Bible of two worlds. Toussaint l'Ouverture
learned passages from it by heart; Bernardin de St. Pierre was
inspired by it; to its author Napoleon Bonaparte dedicated in
1787 his manuscript _Essai sur l'histoire de la Corse_. Dr.
Johnson, according to Hannah More, refused to shake hands with
the Abbé. "Sir," he said to a friend, "I will not shake hands
with an infidel!" Raynal published a new edition in 1780, which
was still more outspoken in its religious and political views.
In consequence he was obliged to leave France, and settled in
Switzerland. In 1788 he returned to France, and died in 1796.
484.
_To his Stepmother._
Lausanne, September 30th, 1783.
DEAR MADAM,
As I know you prefer a speedy to a long letter, I write by the
first post to inform you that after an easy and pleasant journey
of thirteen days, I arrived here on Saturday the 27th instant in
perfect health both of mind and body. You will not expect that I
should inform you how far my expectations are answered in any or in
every respect. The very novelty and beauty of the scene would give a
pleasing colour to every object, and the satisfaction of meeting and
conversing with an old friend like Deyverdun is alone worth a journey
of six hundred miles. He has not forgot his obligations to you, and
begs me in his name to say everything that is kind and grateful.
We have been so compleatly taken up and satisfied with each other
that as yet I have scarcely stirred from home, and as this is the
season of the vintage the town is remarkably empty. But the weather
is good, and our terrace now affords such a prospect of the lake
and mountains, as cannot perhaps be equalled in the World. I most
sincerely wish that you were walking there, and you would soon forget
the more humble beauties of your Belvidere. But I must content myself
with the hope, and not a distant hope, of seeing you again on the
hills, not of Switzerland but of Bath.
I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. G.
That we may never resume the indelicate subject, I shall say once for
all that every Christmas and Midsummer Day, without expecting any
draught from me, you need only send your commands to Messrs. Gosling,
Bankers in Fleet Street, as thus, Pay to Mr. ---- the sum of one
hundred and fifty pounds, and place to the account of E. G., Esq.,
for D. G. They are properly instructed.
485.
_To Lady Sheffield._
Lausanne, October 28th, 1783.
*The progress of my Gout is in general so regular, and there is
so much uniformity in the history of its decline and fall, that I
have hitherto indulged my laziness, without much shame or remorse,
without supposing that you would be very anxious for my safety, which
has been sufficiently provided for by the triple care of my friend
Deyverdun, my humbler friend Caplin, and a very conversable Physician
(not the famous Tissot[67]), whose ordinary fee is ten Batz, about
fifteen pence English. After the usual encrease and decrease of my
member (for it has been confined to the injured foot), the Gout has
retired in good order, and the remains of weakness, which obliged me
to move on the rugged pavement of Lausanne with a stick, or rather
small crutch, are to be ascribed to the sprain, which might have been
a much more serious business.
[Sidenote: THE CHARMS OF LAUSANNE.]
As I have now spent a month at Lausanne, you will inquire with much
curiosity, more kindness, and some mixture of spite and malignity,
how far the place has answered my expectations, and whether I do not
repent of a resolution which has appeared so rash and ridiculous
to my ambitious friends? To this question, however natural and
reasonable, I shall not return an immediate answer, for two reasons:
1. _I have not yet made a fair tryal._ The disappointment and delay
with regard to Deyverdun's house, will confine us this winter to
lodgings, rather convenient than spacious or pleasant. I am only
beginning to recover my strength and liberty, and to look about
on persons and things; the greatest part of those persons are in
the Country taken up with their Vintage: my books are not yet
arrived, and, in short, I cannot look upon myself as settled in
that comfortable way which you and I understand and relish. Yet the
weather has been heavenly, and till this time, the end of October,
we enjoy the brightness of the sun, and somewhat gently complain of
its immoderate heat. 2. If I should be too sanguine in expressing my
satisfaction in what I have done, you would ascribe that satisfaction
to the novelty of the scene, and the inconstancy of man; and I deem
it far more safe and prudent to postpone any positive declaration,
till I am placed by experience beyond the danger of repentance and
recantation.
Yet of one thing I am sure, that I possess in this Country, as
well as in England, the best cordial of life, a sincere, tender,
and sensible friend, adorned with the most valuable and pleasant
qualities both of the heart and head. The inferior enjoyments of
leisure and society are likewise in my power; and in the short
excursions which I have hitherto made, I have commenced or renewed
my acquaintance with a certain number of persons, more especially
women, (who, at least in France and this country, are undoubtedly
superior to our prouder sex,) of rational minds and elegant manners.
I breakfast alone, and have declared that I receive no visits in
the morning, which you will easily suppose is devoted to study. I
find it impossible, without inconvenience, to defer my dinner beyond
two o'Clock. We have got a very good Woman Cook. Deyverdun, who is
somewhat of an Epicurean Philosopher, understands the management
of a table, and we frequently invite a guest or two to share our
luxurious, but not extravagant repasts. The afternoons are (and will
be much more so hereafter) devoted to society, and I shall find it
necessary to play at cards much oftener than in London: but I do not
dislike that way of passing a couple of hours, and I shall not be
ruined at Shilling whist. As yet I have not supped, but in the Course
of the winter I must sometimes sacrifice an evening abroad, and in
exchange I hope sometimes to steal a day at home, without going into
Company.*
[Sidenote: A _PENSION_ FOR MISS HOLROYD.]