on February 13, 1788. Sheridan's speech on the Begums of Oudh
was delivered on June 3, 6, 10, and 13. The trial was adjourned
on June 14 till the following session. "Mr. Sheridan," writes
Horace Walpole, June 5, 1788, "I hear, did not quite satisfy
the passionate expectation that had been raised; but it was
impossible he could, when people had worked themselves into an
enthusiasm of offering fifty--ay, _fifty_ guineas for a ticket
to hear him." Macaulay's account of Sheridan's knowledge of
stage-effect, and of his sinking back, "as if exhausted, into the
arms of Burke," is based on this letter of Gibbon. Sir Gilbert
Elliot, however (_Life and Letters_, vol. i. pp. 206-219), gives
a different account. "Burke caught him in his arms as he sat
down, which was not the least affecting part of the day to my
feelings, and could not be the least grateful testimony of his
merit received by Sheridan. I have myself enjoyed that embrace
on such an occasion, and know its value." In his speech, as
reported in the _Morning Chronicle_ for June 14, 1788, Sheridan
said that "nothing equal in criminality was to be traced either
in ancient or modern history, in the correct periods of Tacitus
or the luminous page of Gibbon." The story, told by Moore in
his _Memoirs_ of Sheridan, that the orator really used the word
"voluminous," is repudiated by Mr. Fraser Rae (_Sheridan_, vol.
ii. p. 69).
529.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Downing-street, June 21st, 1788.
[Sidenote: DINNER WITH WARREN HASTINGS.]
*Instead of the historian, you receive a short letter; in your eyes
an indispensable tribute. This day, at length, after long delay and
frequent expostulation, I have received the writings, which I am
now in the act of signing, sealing, and delivering, according to
the lawyer's directions.* They return to-night by the Mail Coach
into Hugonin's hands, from which they will not depart till the money
is paid. I hope to receive it next Tuesday; next Wednesday must be
employed with the Darrels in proper investments, and the Thursday I
hope to be at Sheffield. *You see my departure is not postponed a
moment by idleness or pleasure, but the precise day still hangs on
contingencies, and we must all be patient, if our wishes should be
thwarted. I say our wishes, for I sincerely desire to be with you.
I have had many dinners, some splendid and memorable, with Hastings
last Thursday, with the Prince of Wales next Tuesday,* both by
special desire. *But the town empties, Texier is silent, and in an
evening, I _desiderate_ the resources of a family or a club. Caplen
has finished the Herculean labour, and seven Majestic boxes will
abdicate on Monday your hall. Severy has likewise dispatched his
affairs, and secured his Companion Clarke, who is arrived in town;
but his schemes are abridged by the inexorable rigour of Lord Howe,
who has assured our great and fair Intercessors, that by the king's
orders the dock-yards are shut against all strangers. We therefore
give up Portsmouth, and content ourselves with two short trips;
one to Stowe and Oxford, the other to Chatham; and if we can catch
a launch and review, _encore vit-on_. He (Severy, not Lord Howe)
salutes with me the Christians and Pagans of the family. Adieu.
Yours.*
530.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Downing street, Saturday, June 25th, 1788(?).
*According to your imperious law I write a line, to postpone my
arrival to Friday, or perhaps Saturday, but I hope Friday, and I
promise you that not a moment shall be wasted.
And now let me add a cool word as to my final departure, which is
irrevocably fixed between the 10th and 15th of July. After a full
and free enjoyment of each other's society, let us submit, without a
struggle, to reason and fate. It would be idle to pretend business
at Lausanne; but a compleat year will elapse before my return.
Severy and myself are now expected with some impatience.* I desire
to see _my own_ house; _my own_ library; _my own_ garden, whose
summer beauties are each day losing something. *I am thankful for
your hospitable entertainment; but I wish you to remember Homer's
admirable precept:
"Welcome the coming, _speed_ the parting guest."
Spare me, therefore, spare yourself, the trouble of a fruitless
contest, in which (according to a great author) I foresee a certain
loss of time, and a probable loss of temper. The Petersfield business
is terminated, and I have received the money; but Darrel will not
come to town from Richmond. I believe we shall have both Craufurd and
Hugonin at Sheffield-place. Adieu.*
531.
_To his Stepmother._
Sheffield place, June 29th, 1788.
MY DEAREST MADAM,
I must indeed be incorrigible, since I could delay an answer to your
last kind and generous letter: but you will again exercise that
kind indulgence, nor shall I aggravate my old offence by a formal
and foolish apology. I am now at Sheffield-place preparing for my
departure, which is only delayed by an excursion of my young friend
to Oxford and perhaps to Bath, in which case he will certainly
request of Mrs. Holroyd the favour of presenting him to you. The
Sheffields have not been so firm and reasonable as yourself, and
in the bitter mixture of our last interview I strongly feel the
propriety of your choice.--I propose setting out between the 10th
and 15th of next month, and, as long as the journey can inspire you
with the smallest doubt or apprehension, you may depend on hearing
punctually from me. After I subside in the calm of a Lausanne life,
my diligence will probably be relaxed: yet I hope more than I dare
promise.
[Sidenote: POSSIBLE SALE OF BERITON.]
With Lord Sheffield's advice I begin to entertain some thoughts of
disposing of Buriton. A landed Estate, to me an useless incumbrance,
is attended with many drawbacks and expences: and as several rich
neighbours, Lord Egremont, Lord Stawell, and Mr. Bonham are eager
for the purchase, it is probable that while I diminish my cares, I
may almost double my income. Before any serious steps are taken in
the business, your ease and interest will be first consulted, and
as I propose leaving a considerable part of the purchase money on
the Estate, your jointure may be secured on the same kinds as firmly
as before. Lord Sheffield, in whose honour and abilities you have
a perfect confidence, will correspond with you on the subject, and
you may be assured that nothing shall be done without your full and
chearful approbation. Lord and Lady Sheffield beg me to communicate
in their name all the wishes of regard and friendship.
I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. GIBBON.
532.
_To his Stepmother._
Sheffield-place, July the 18th, 1788.
MY DEAR MADAM,
A kind and generous behaviour is what I always expect from you; and
your obliging condescension with regard to Buriton, the sale of which
would place me in so desirable a situation, excites rather gratitude
than surprize in my breast. I agree with you in wishing to refer the
detail of this business to your correspondence with Lord Sheffield,
who will weigh every circumstance and every objection, who will
consider in the first place your satisfaction, and my interest in
the second. Let me only say that the idea of a Mortgage was partly
for your security and partly from an apprehension of trusting my
whole fortune to the public credit; that such an investment of money
unites, when it is carefully made, the solidity of land with the
clear ready payment of the funds, and that I am not less averse than
yourself to any connection, open or clandestine, with the member for
Petersfield.
To-morrow I shall leave this place, where I have been detained much
longer than I intended by an indisposition of poor Severy which
prevented him from waiting on you at Bath. I dine to-morrow at
Tunbridge-Wells with Lord North, reach Dover Sunday, pass the water,
if possible, Monday, and repose myself at Lausanne about Wednesday
sevennight the 30th instant. You are too well acquainted with the
World and with me not to smile at the report of my approaching
marriage, of which you might be sure of having the earliest and
most direct information. Cadell is too discreet to have opened his
mouth on a subject, on which for particular reasons we had mutually
promised secrecy. The public, where it costs them nothing, are
extravagantly liberal; yet I will allow with Dr. Johnson "that
booksellers in this age are not the worst patrons of litterature."
I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. G.
533.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Lausanne, July 30, 1788.--Wednesday, 3 o'clock.
*I have but a moment to say, before the departure of the post, that,
after a very pleasant journey, I arrived here about half an hour
ago; that I am as well arranged, as if I had never stirred from this
place; and that dinner on the table is just announced. Severy I
dropt at his country-house about two leagues off. I just saluted the
family, who dine with me the day after to-morrow, and return to town
for some days, I hope weeks, on my account. The son is an amiable and
grateful Youth; and even this journey has taught me to know and to
love him still better. My satisfaction would be compleat, had I not
found a sad and serious alteration in poor Deyverdun; but thus our
joys are checkered! I embrace all; and at this moment feel the last
pang of our parting at Tunbridge. Convey this letter or information,
without delay, from Sheffield-place to Bath. In a few days I shall
write more amply to both places.*
534.
_To his Stepmother._
Lausanne, August the 16th, 1788.
DEAR MADAM,
[Sidenote: RETURN TO LAUSANNE.]
The day and indeed the moment of my arrival in this place I announced
the event by a short missive to Sheffield-place, and desired that the
intelligence might be forwarded without delay to the Belvidere. The
perils of the ocean and the road, imaginary perils, are now over, and
I am again seated in the elegant repose of my library and garden:
free to enjoy all the pleasures of study, my first pleasures, but no
longer chained to the regular performance of a laborious task. At
this time of the year small as well as great cities are emptied of
their most dignified inhabitants: yet if I were not rather disposed
to a sedentary life, I could find in the town and adjacent country
what Mr. Christie (?) calls a very respectable vicinage. But their
names and characters would be uninteresting to you, and with the best
intentions a correspondence with a distant friend must degenerate
into mutual questions and answers concerning each other. The only
person here with whom you are acquainted, poor Deyverdun, is, I much
fear, in a state of decline, though I hope not of actual danger: that
would indeed be a loss.
Present my kindest remembrance to Mrs. Holroyd, and if they are with
you, to the Goulds. I lament that I never saw them during my stay in
England.
I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. GIBBON.
535.
_To Lord Sheffield._
October 1, 1788.
*After such an act of vigour as my first letter, composed, finished,
and dispatched within half an hour after my landing, while the dinner
was smoaking on the table, your knowledge of the animal must have
taught you to expect a proportionable degree of relaxation; and you
will be satisfied to hear, that, for many Wednesdays and Saturdays,
I have consumed more time than would have sufficed for the Epistle,
in devising reasons for procrastinating it to the next post. At this
very moment I begin so very late, as I am just going to dress, and
dine in the Country, that I can take only the benefit of the date,
October the first, and must be content to seal and send my letter
next Saturday.
October the 4th.
Saturday is now arrived, and I much doubt whether I shall have time
to finish. I rose, as usual, about seven; but as I knew I should have
so much time, you know it would have been ridiculous to begin any
thing before Breakfast. When I returned from my breakfast-room to
the library, unluckily I found on the table some new and interesting
books, which instantly caught my attention; and without injuring my
correspondent, I could safely bestow a single hour to gratify my
curiosity. Some things I found in them insensibly led me to other
books, and other enquiries; the morning has stolen away, and I shall
be soon summoned to dress and dine with the two Severys, father and
son, who are returned from the Country on a disagreeable errand, an
illness of Madame, from which she is, however, recovering. Such is
the faithful picture of my mind and manners, and from a single day
_disce omnes_.
[Sidenote: ILLNESS OF DEYVERDUN.]
After having been so long chained to the oar, in a splendid galley
indeed, I freely and fairly enjoy my liberty as I promised in my
preface; range without controul over the wide expanse of my library;
converse, as my fancy prompts me, with poets and historians,
philosophers and Orators, of every age and language; and often
indulge my meditations in the invention and arrangement of mighty
works, which I shall probably never find time or application to
execute. My garden, _berceau_, and pavillion often varied the
scene of my studies; the beautiful weather which we have enjoyed
exhilarated my spirits, and I again tasted the wisdom and happiness
of my retirement, till that happiness was interrupted by a very
serious calamity, which took from me, for above a fortnight, all
thoughts of study, of amusement, and even of correspondence.
I mentioned in my first letter the uneasiness I felt at poor
Deyverdun's declining health, how much the pleasure of my life was
embittered by the sight of a suffering and languid friend. The joy
of our meeting appeared at first to revive him; and, though not
satisfied, I began to think, at least to hope, that he was every
day gaining ground; when, alas! one morning I was suddenly recalled
from my berceau to the house, with the dreadful intelligence of an
Apoplectic stroke; I found him senseless: the best assistance was
instantly collected; and he had the aid of the genius and experience
of Mr. Tissot, and of the assiduous care of an ordinary Physician,
who for some time scarcely quitted his bedside either night or day.*
You will understand his danger when I recapitulate the operations of
a few hours--leeches, six bleeding vomits, purges, clysters, blisters
to his thighs, warm baths, and mustard to his feet. *While I was in
momentary dread of a relapse, with a confession from his physicians
that such a relapse must be fatal, you will feel that I was much more
to be pitied than my friend. At length, Art or Nature triumphed over
the enemy of life. I was soon assured that all immediate danger was
past: and now for many days I have had the satisfaction of seeing
him recover, though by slow degrees, his health and strength, his
sleep and appetite. He now walks about the garden, and receives his
particular friends, but has not yet gone abroad. His future health
will depend very much upon his own prudence: but, at all events, this
has been a very serious warning; and the slightest indisposition will
hereafter assume a very formidable aspect.
But let us turn from this melancholy subject.--The man of the
people[124] escaped from the tumult, the bloody tumult of the
Westminster Election,[125] to the lakes and mountains of Switzerland,
and I was informed that he was arrived at the Lyon d'Or. I sent a
compliment; he answered it in person;* we returned together to the
Inn, brought away the fair Mrs. Armstead,[126] *and settled at
my house for the remainder of the day. I have eat and drank, and
conversed and sat up all night with Fox in England; but it never has
happened, perhaps it never can happen again, that I should enjoy him
as I did that day, alone,* for his fair Companion was a cypher,* from
ten in the morning till ten at night. Poor Deyverdun, before his
accident, wanted spirits to appear, and has regretted it since. Our
conversation never flagged a moment; and he seemed thoroughly pleased
with the place and with his Company. We had little politicks; though
he gave me, in a few words, such a character of Pitt, as one great
man should give of another his rival: much of books, from my own,
on which he flattered me very pleasantly, to Homer and the Arabian
nights; much about the country, my garden (which he understands far
better than I do), and, upon the whole, I think he envies me, and
would do so were he Minister. The next morning I gave him a guide to
walk him about the town and country, and invited some company to meet
him at dinner. The following day he continued his journey to Berne
and Zurich, and I have heard of him by various means. The people gaze
on him as a prodigy, but he shows little inclination to converse with
them.* The wit and beauty of his Companion are not sufficient to
excuse the scandalous impropriety of shewing her to all Europe, and
you will not easily conceive how he has lost himself in the public
opinion, which was already more favourable to his Rival. Will Fox
never know the importance of character?
Far different has been the conduct and success of *our friend
Douglas;[127] he has been curious, attentive, agreeable; and in
every place where he has resided some days, he has left acquaintance
who esteem and regret him: I never knew so clear and general an
impression.
After this long letter I have yet many things to say, though none of
any pressing consequence. I hope you are not idle in the deliverance
of Buriton, though the late events and edicts in France begin to
reconcile me to the possession of dirty acres. What think you of
Necker[128] and the States generals? Are not the public expectations
sanguine? Adieu. I will write soon to My Lady separately, though I
have not any particular subject for her ear.
Ever yours,*
E. GIBBON.
[124] C. J. Fox.
[125] In 1788, on a by-election caused by Lord Hood's acceptance
of office as one of the Commissioners of the Admiralty, Lord John
Townshend won the seat against Hood. In Bond Street there was a
battle between Lord Hood's sailors and the Irish chairmen and
butcher-boys. Several were killed and wounded.
[126] Charles James Fox married Elizabeth Bridget Cane, otherwise
Mrs. Armitstead, at Wyton, Huntingdonshire, on September 28,
1795. She survived her husband. In 1799, on his fiftieth birthday
(January 24), Fox addressed to her the following lines:--
"Of years I have now half a century past,
And none of the fifty so blessed as the last.
How it happens my troubles thus daily should cease,
And my happiness thus with my years should increase,
This defiance of nature's more general laws
You alone can explain, who alone are the cause."
[127] Sylvester Douglas, afterwards Lord Glenbervie (1743-1823),
who married, in September, 1789, Catherine, eldest daughter of
Lord North. He was educated at Leyden as a doctor, a circumstance
to which Sheridan alludes in the lines--
"Glenbervie, Glenbervie,
What's good for the scurvey?
For ne'er be your old trade forgot."
He became a barrister, reported in the King's Bench, and was made
a K.C. After his marriage he left the Bar for a political career,
and held several minor appointments.
[128] Brienne retired to Italy in August, 1788, and Necker was
recalled in the same month. He at once took steps for summoning
the States-General which met at Versailles, May 4, 1789.
536.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Lausanne, Nov. 29, 1788.
[Sidenote: INSANITY OF GEORGE III.]
*As I have no Correspondents but yourself, I should have been reduced
to the stale and stupid communications of the papers, if you had not
most gloriously dispatched me a sketch of the* strange revolution
that three Kingdoms should depend on the brain of one man![129] *In
so new a case the _Salus populi_ must be the first law; and any
extraordinary acts of the two remaining branches of the Legislature
must be excused by necessity, and ratified by general consent.* Yet I
cannot any more than yourself understand this speedy and peremptory
sentence of the Medical tribe. The apprehension or rather hope of his
death may admonish the reigning ministers not to irritate the heir
apparent: otherwise, since they have a Majority, what should prevent
them from shackling him with a Counsel, or from tacking to the
address of support a request that he would not change his servants?
They have the confidence (aye growl) of the Country and of Europe:
by _them_, I mean Pitt. *Till things are settled, I expect a regular
Journal.
From kingdoms I descend to farms,* and the latter in a selfish
consideration are not the least important and interesting. You seem
to have made a considerable progress in the Buriton affair, since you
would not have fixed the price without a careful survey and valuation
of each particular founded on your own judgement and that of some
able professor. You do not however mention that you have employed
any such person. I submit to your science, but I cannot say that I
am fond of this mode of auctions: besides the publicity, which on
this occasion may be dangerous, you expose yourself either to let
the estate go for an inadequate price or to an improper purchaser;
or else by purchasing it in, you incur the expences, tax, &c., to
a large amount. Since we know the persons whom Buriton best suits,
suppose Bonham, Lords Stawell, and Egremont, might not the same end
be answered with less inconvenience by writing at the same time a
public circular letter to each, and desiring that by a certain day
they would send in sealed proposals? Would they not have the same
inducement to bid against one another? Upon the whole the 18,000
pounds would make me happy for life. Yet I would not proceed hastily
in this momentous business. What is the motive of Hugonin's sudden
migration, is it health, distress, fancy? Where does he settle? Who
will take care of my affairs? A year's rent is now due, besides some
arrears.
I have written to my two old Ladies without receiving answers. What
are your accounts from Bath? I hope you have satisfied _her_ about
the sale of Buriton, which I would much sooner delay than give her
any uneasiness. I wish we had a correspondent at Stamford (that
Attorney whose name I have forgot, who called upon me in Downing
Street) to give you notice in case it should please Almighty God,
&c.--Deyverdun is not worse. Yet I much doubt whether you will see
him next year. Do you still persist? Thinking as you do, I feel the
force of a certain objection, and must own that a small circle is
often more dangerous than a large one. I likewise fear for yourself
the want of occupation in winter, and am now apprehensive of the
views of Parliament, office, &c., that may open themselves under a
new and friendly reign. As soon as you are _absolutely_ determined
let me know; as the arrangement of a proper house would not be easy.
The Severys are well and _all_ impatient to see you. I have passed
three weeks with them at Rolle, as comfortably as at S.P.: we made
a tour to Geneva. The youth is perfectly reconciled to his little
Country. If My Lady, in the paradise of Brighton, could find leisure
for a line, it would be gracious. Adieu.
[129] In the summer of 1788 George III. showed symptoms of
mental derangement; but he had signed a warrant for the further
prorogation of Parliament from September 25 to November 20.
In that interval he grew rapidly worse, and was placed under
restraint. The evidence of the king's physicians was laid
before the Privy Council and Parliament, and a motion was made
in the Lower House for a committee to search for precedents
of proceedings in the case of the interruption or suspension
of the royal authority. Pitt, on December 16, 1788, moved
three resolutions: (1) that the personal exercise of the royal
authority was interrupted; (2) that the two Houses have the right
to supply this defect of the royal authority; (3) that it was
necessary to determine the means by which, during the continuance
of the king's incapacity, the royal assent should be given to
bills passed by the two Houses. The resolutions were carried
in both Houses. The plan of a regency was then submitted to
the Prince of Wales, and five resolutions embodying the scheme
were proposed and carried in January, 1789. On February 5,
1789, the Regency Bill was introduced in the House of Commons,
carried, and sent up to the Lords. It was still under discussion
when, on February 19, the Lord Chancellor announced the king's
convalescence, and further proceedings were suspended.