tumultuous meetings and seditious writings. Both Houses concurred
in an address of thanks to the king for the proclamation (June
1). The question divided the Whig party, the majority of which
from this time supported Pitt. Fox for the next few years
scarcely mustered fifty followers.
[232] Lord Sheffield expressed an opinion which at the time was
common. The sympathy which was avowed by leading Nonconformists
with some of the objects of the Revolution was not unnaturally
misinterpreted at a period of public excitement. Dr. Price was
chairman of the Revolution Society, which corresponded with
various societies in France. Their correspondence with French
clubs was published in 1792; but it is significant that the
letters on the king's escape and subsequent arrest, sent to the
Jacobin Club in 1791, the existence of which was revealed by
the answer of the Jacobins, were omitted from the publication.
Dr. Priestley, subsequently elected to the National Convention,
presided at the meeting of the Unitarian Society at the King's
Head Tavern, in February, 1791, when, among other toasts, "Thomas
Paine and the Rights of Man," and "The National Assembly of
France, and may every tyrannical government undergo a similar
revolution," were drunk with enthusiasm. Such distinguished
Nonconformists as Dr. Kippis, Dr. Rees, and Dr. Towers were also
prominent members of these or similar societies. The Society of
Constitutional Whigs, who addressed the National Assembly in
the autumn of 1792, declaring that, if any attempt were made to
enslave the French people, they would die in their defence, also
appealed to Dissenters. In _A Few Queries to the Methodists in
General_ occurs the following:--"_Query_: Does not both reason
and revelation teach us, that in order to lay the axe at the root
of the tree of wickedness, we must begin with kings and princes,
and bishops and priests?"
[233] Lord Chancellor Thurlow, whose influence with the king was
immense, and whose intrigues with Fox at the time of the Regency
Bill were well known, opposed Pitt's Sinking Fund and the Bill
for the encouragement of the growth of timber in the New Forest,
and denounced his colleagues as traitors to the interest of their
sovereign. He was dismissed from the Lord Chancellorship in June,
1792.
[234] The actual fusion of parties did not take place till July,
1794, when Lord Camden had died and Lord Stafford retired, and
Dundas, retaining the Colonies, resigned the Secretaryship at
War to Windham. It was delayed by the indecision of the Duke of
Portland, of whom Lady Malmesbury said, "The Duke of Portland is
our Duke of Brunswick--no party will be led to victory by either"
(_Life and Letters of Sir G. Elliot_, vol. ii. p. 72).
[235] Lord Loughborough, Lord Malmesbury, the Duke of Portland,
and Dundas attempted to effect a coalition between Pitt and Fox
in the summer and autumn of 1792. The negotiations failed. "Fox,"
says Lord Malmesbury (July 30, 1792), "made Pitt's quitting the
Treasury a _sine quâ non_, and was so opinionative and fixed
about it, that it was impossible even to reason with him on the
subject." "You see how it is," said Burke; "Mr. Fox's coach stops
the way."
592.
_To his Stepmother._
Lausanne, August 1st, 1792.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
Notwithstanding all the arts of our great Enemy, the Demon of
procrastination, I should not have postponed for so many months a
pleasing duty, which may at any time be performed in a single hour,
had I not for some time past entertained a lively and probable
hope of visiting you this autumn in person; had I not flattered
myself, that the very next post I might be able to fix the day of my
departure from Lausanne, and almost of my arrival at the Belvidere.
That hope is now vanished, and my journey to England is unavoidably
delayed till the spring or summer of next year. *The extraordinary
state of public affairs in France opposes an insuperable bar to my
passage; and every prudent stranger will avoid that inhospitable
land, in which a people of slaves is suddenly become a nation
of tyrants and cannibals. The German road is indeed safe, but,
independent of a great addition of fatigue and expence, the armies of
Austria and Prussia now cover that frontier; and though the Generals
are polite, and the troops well disciplined, I am not desirous of
passing through the Clouds of Hussars and Pandours that attend their
motions. These public reasons are fortified by some private motives,
and to this delay I resign myself with a sigh for the present, and a
hope for the future.
[Sidenote: TAINT OF DEMOCRATICAL INFECTION.]
What a strange wild World do we live in! You will allow me to be a
tolerable historian, yet, on a fair review of ancient and modern
times, I can find none that bear any affinity with the present.
My knowledge of your discerning mind, and my recollection of your
political principles, assure me, that you are no more a _Democrat_
than myself. Had the French improved their glorious opportunity to
erect a free constitutional Monarchy on the ruins of arbitrary
power and the Bastile, I should applaud their generous effort; but
this total subversion of all rank, order, and government, could be
productive only of a popular monster, which after devouring every
thing else, must finally devour itself. I was once apprehensive that
this monster would propagate some imps in our happy island, but they
seem to have been crushed in the cradle; and I acknowledge with
pleasure and pride the good sense of the English nation, who seem
truly conscious of the blessings which they enjoy: and I am happy
to find that the most respectable part of opposition has cordially
joyned in the support of "things as they are." Even this country has
been somewhat tainted with the Democratical infection: the vigilance
of Government has been exerted, the malecontents have been awed, the
misguided have been undeceived, the feaver in the blood has gradually
subsided, and I flatter myself that we have secured the tranquil
enjoyment of obscure felicity, which we had been almost tempted to
despise.
You have heard, most probably, from Mrs. Holroyd, of the
long-expected though transient satisfaction which I received from
the visit of the Sheffield family. He appeared highly satisfied
with my arrangements here, my house, garden, and situation, at once
in town and country, which are indeed singular in their kind, and
which have often made me regret the impossibility of showing them
to my dearest friend of the Belvidere. Lord S. is still, and will
ever continue, the same active being, always employed for himself,
his friends, and the public, and always persuading himself that
he wishes for leisure and repose.* He has now a new care on his
hands, the management and disposal of his eldest daughter, who is
indeed a most extraordinary young woman. *There are various roads
to happiness; but when I compare his situation with mine, I do not,
upon the whole, repent that I have given the preference to a life
of celibacy and retirement. Although I have been long a spectator
of the great World, my unambitious temper has been content with the
occupations and rewards of study; and although my library be still
my favourite room, I am now no longer stimulated by the prosecution
of any litterary work. The society of Lausanne is adapted to my
taste; my house is open to many agreeable acquaintance, and some real
friends; the uniformity of the natives is enlivened by travellers of
all nations; and this summer I am happy in a familiar intercourse
with Lady Spencer, the Dutchess of Devonshire, Lady Elizabeth
Foster, and Lady Duncannon, who seems to be gradually recovering
from her dreadful complaints. My health is remarkably good. I have
now enjoyed a long interval from the gout; and I endeavour to use
with moderation Dr. Cadogan's best remedies, temperance, exercise,
and cheerfulness. Adieu, Dear Madam; may every blessing that Nature
can allow be attendant on your latter season! Your age and my habits
will not permit a very close correspondence; but I wish to hear, and
I _presume_ to ask, a speedy _direct_ account of your own situation.
May it be such as I shall hear with pleasure! Once more Adieu; I live
in hopes of embracing you next summer at the Belvidere, but you may
be assured that I bring over nothing for the press.*
593.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Lausanne, August 23rd, 1792.
*When I inform you that the design of my English expedition is at
last postponed to another year, you will not be much surprized. The
public obstacles, the danger of one road, and the difficulties of
another, would alone be sufficient to arrest so unwieldy and inactive
a Being; and these obstacles on the side of France, are growing every
day more insuperable. On the other hand, the terrors, which might
have driven me from hence, have in a great measure, subsided; our
state prisoners are forgot; the country begins to recover its old
good humour and unsuspecting confidence, and the last revolution
of Paris appears to have convinced almost every body of the fatal
consequences of Democratical principles, which lead by a path of
flowers into the Abyss of Hell. I may therefore wait with patience
and tranquillity till the Duke of Brunswick shall have opened the
French road. But if I am not driven from Lausanne, you will ask, I
hope with some indignation, whether I am not drawn to England, and
more especially to Sheffield-place? The desire of embracing you and
yours is now the strongest, and must gradually become the sole,
inducement that can force me from my library and garden, over seas
and mountains. The English World will forget and be forgotten, and
every year will deprive me of some acquaintance, who by courtesy
are styled friends: Lord Guilford[236] and Sir Joshua Reynolds![237]
two of the men, and two of the houses in London, on whom I the most
relied for the comforts of society.*
Even the satisfaction which I promised myself at Sheffield would at
present be----
September 12th, 1792.
[Sidenote: BRUNSWICK MARCHES ON PARIS.]
*Thus far had I written in the full confidence of finishing and
sending my letter the next post; but six post-days have unaccountably
slipped away, and were you not accustomed to my silence, you would
almost begin to think me on the road. How dreadfully, since my last
date, has the French road been polluted with blood! and what horrid
scenes may be acting at this moment, and may still be aggravated,
till the Duke of Brunswick[238] is master of Paris! On every rational
principle of calculation he must succeed; yet sometimes, when my
spirits are low, I dread the blind efforts of mad and desperate
multitudes fighting on their own ground. A few days or weeks must
decide the military operations of this year, and perhaps for ever;
but on the fairest supposition, I cannot look forwards to any firm
settlement, either of a legal or an absolute government. I cannot
pretend to give you any Paris news. Should I inform you, as we
believe, that _Lally[239] is still among the cannibals_, you would
possibly answer, that he is now sitting in the library at Sheffield.
Madame de Stael,[240] after miraculously escaping through pikes
and poniards, has reached the castle of Copet, where I shall see
her before the end of the week. If any thing can provoke the King
of Sardinia and the Swiss, it must be the foul destruction of _his_
cousin Madame de Lamballe, and of _their_ regiment of guards.[241] An
extraordinary council is summoned at Berne, _but resentment may be
checked by prudence_. In spite of Maria's laughter, I applaud your
moderation, and sigh for a hearty union of all the sense and property
of the country. The times require it; but your last political letter
was a cordial to my spirits. The Duchess of D. rather dislikes a
coalition: amiable creature! The Eliza (we call her Bess) is furious
against you for not writing. We shall lose them in a few days;
but the motions of Bess and the Duchess for Italy or England, are
doubtful. Ladies Spencer and Duncannon certainly pass the Alps. I
live with them.*
The interesting subjects of our late correspondence seem to have
obliterated all memory of my private concerns, which have suffered
as usual a rub when we thought them finally terminated. Although
my ideas about money matters are grown somewhat confused, I do
not believe there is much _caput mortuum_ left, and have no doubt
that the different channels of interest will be properly filled at
Michaelmas, but I should be glad to see the greatest part of my
decreasing short annuities well secured in a mortgage, and I flatter
myself that yourself and agents are alive to that pursuit. But I
must again put you in mind of two interesting queries to which I
have not yet received any answer. 1. What is the nature of the three
thousand pounds debentures which you purchased last Winter? Who is
my debtor? and what and where is my security? Surely this is no
idle curiosity on my side. 2. I wished to know in what hands the
different deeds of my property are vested, and to possess something
like a written attestation. The Buriton Mortgage and the aforesaid
debentures are very properly, as I suppose, in Lord Sheffield's iron
chest. _Fort bien._ My short annuities in their own books and in
Mr. E. Darrel's--_pas mal_; my Sussex Navigation and India Bonds
with Gosling, _passe encore_: but my claims on you, the Newhaven
Mortgage and the Annuity are delivered--are they not, to Mr. Batt, an
honourable but a sickly man? Should he fail, have we any to exhibit
to his unknown heir? If delicacy, false delicacy, forbids your asking
for a receipt, or taking them, which I should like better, into your
own custody, I must seriously desire they may be sent over to me. Did
I not express some anxiety on this head, you would have a right to
call me a very careless fellow.
There are some minor matters which you may find in my long
letter;[242] such as a request to settle a shameful obsolete bill,
my only one, at Wedgwood's, and to enquire whether Mr. John Nichols,
bookseller in Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, did not receive a
letter from me last March which he has never answered. But I must
insist on a hogshead of Madeira announced, shipped, and, I believe,
paid six months ago, but which has never reached my lips or my
cellar. This must be explored. *Adieu. Since I do not appear in
person, I feel the absolute propriety of writing to my lady and
Maria; but there is far from the knowledge to the performance of a
duty.*
Ever yours,
E. G.
[236] Lord Guilford, better known as Lord North, died August 5,
1792.
[237] Sir Joshua Reynolds died February 23, 1792.
[238] The Duke of Brunswick, as commander-in-chief of the
combined armies of Austria and Prussia, issued his manifesto on
July 25, 1792, before crossing the French frontier and directing
his march on Paris.
[239] Lally left France for Switzerland after October, 1789, and
thence passed to England. Realizing the dangerous position of
the king and royal family, he returned to Paris in May, 1792,
and with Bertrand-Molleville, Malouet, La Fayette, and others,
endeavoured to effect the escape of the king and queen. On August
10, 1792, he was arrested and imprisoned in the Abbaye. On August
22, 1792, ten days before the September massacres, the French
Minister of Foreign Affairs informed the National Assembly that
Lally Tollendal demanded a passport for England, of which country
he had become a naturalized subject. He also produced a letter
from Lord Gower claiming Lally as a British subject. According to
Madame de Staël he owed his escape to Condorcet.
[240] Madame de Staël, in her _Considérations sur la Révolution
Française_ (ed. 1818, tom. ii. ch. x.), describes her appearance
before Robespierre at the Hôtel de Ville in the Place de Grève,
and attributes her escape, on September 2-3, 1792, to Manuel.
[241] Marie Thérèse de Savoie-Carignan married, in 1767, Louis de
Bourbon-Penthièvre, Prince de Lamballe. She was murdered at La
Force in the September massacres of 1792, and her head, raised
on a pike, was paraded before the windows of the Temple where
the queen was confined. The Swiss Guard, nearly eight hundred in
number, were massacred in the attack upon the Tuileries on August
10, 1792. Of the few who escaped, fifty-four were murdered in the
Abbaye at the September massacres. Their death is commemorated by
Thorwaldsen's lion at Lucerne.
[242] See letter of May 30, 1792.
594.
_To Mr. Cadell._
Lausanne, Sept. 28th, 1792.
DEAR SIR,
[Sidenote: EVERY DAY MORE SEDENTARY.]
As you must have been informed by Lord Sheffield of my approaching
arrival, I trust that you will feel some disappointment when you
are told by myself that my journey to England is delayed to another
year. The cause of this delay proceeds solely from the troubles of
the continent. It would be madness to venture my life in the land
of Cannibals, and the circuitous route by Germany would be attended
with a large increase of trouble and expense. I grow every day more
sedentary, and could I have the pleasure of shewing you my house, my
library, and my garden, you would not be surprised that I should quit
them with some reluctance. You may perhaps be likewise disappointed
at hearing that I shall probably come empty-handed. A variety of
untoward circumstances have contributed to encrease my indolence.
I cannot please myself with the choice of a subject, and it may be
prudent to enjoy rather than expose my historical fame.
Several months ago I wrote a very civil letter to _Mr. John. Nichols,
Bookseller at Cicero's head, Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street_, which
(had he received it) I can scarcely persuade myself he would have
left without an answer. It related to a very curious paper about the
Gibbon family inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine, August, 1788, p.
698, which had just fallen into my hands. I wished to know the author
and by what means I could correspond with him on the subject. Perhaps
you may be able, and I am sure you are willing, to clear up that
point and put me in a proper channel by a personal application either
to the aforesaid John Nichols or to some other person concerned in
the Gentleman's Magazine.
Be so kind as to inform Elmsley of what he will hardly believe,
that I am preparing materials for a letter to him, with a long list
of commissions. Among these I wish you boldly to introduce the
works of merit, history, travels, literature, philosophy, and even
extraordinary novels which bear your authentic stamp.
My best compliments to Mr. Strahan.
595.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Lausanne, October 5th, 1792.
[Sidenote: FRENCH INVASION OF SAVOY.]
*As our English newspapers must have informed you of the invasion of
Savoy[243] by the French, and as it is possible that you may have
some trifling apprehensions of my being killed and eaten by those
Cannibals, it has appeared to me that a short extraordinary dispatch
might not be unacceptable on this occasion. It is indeed true, that
about ten days ago the French army of the south, under the command of
Mr. de Montesquiou, (if any French army can be said to be under any
command,) has entered Savoy, and possessed themselves of Chamberry,
Montmelian, & several other places. It has always been the practise
of the King of Sardinia to abandon his transalpine dominions; but on
this occasion the Court of Turin appears to have been surprized by
the strange eccentric motions of a Democracy, which always acts from
the passion of the moment; and their inferior troops have retreated,
with some loss and disgrace, into the passes of the Alps. Mount Cenis
is now impervious, and our English travellers who are bound for
Italy, the Dutchesses of Devonshire, Ancaster, &c., will be forced to
explore a long circuitous road through the Tirol. But the Chablais is
yet intact, nor can our telescopes discover the tricolor banners on
the other side of the lake. Our accounts of the French numbers seem
to vary from fifteen to thirty thousand men; the regulars are few,
but they are followed by a rabble rout, which must soon, however,
melt away, as they will find no plunder, and scanty subsistence, in
the poverty and barrenness of Savoy. N.B. I have just seen a letter
from M. de M., who boasts that at his first entrance into Savoy he
had only twelve battalions. Our intelligence is far from correct.
The Magistrates of Geneva were alarmed by this dangerous
neighbourhood, and more especially by the well known animosity of
an exiled citizen, Claviere,[244] who is one of the six ministers
of the French Republic. It was carried by a small Majority in the
general council, to call in the succour of three thousand Swiss,
which is stipulated by ancient treaty. The strongest reason or
pretence of the minority, was founded on the danger of provoking the
French, and they seem to have been justified by the event; since the
complaint of the French resident amounts to a declaration of War.
The fortifications of Geneva are not contemptible, especially on
the side of Savoy; and it is much doubted whether M. de Montesquiou
is prepared for a regular siege; but the malcontents are numerous
within the walls, and I question whether the spirit of the citizens
would hold out against a bombardment. In the meanwhile the diet
has declared, that the first canon fired against Geneva will be
considered as an act of hostility against the whole Helvetic
body. Berne, as the nearest and most powerful Canton, has taken
the lead with great vigour and vigilance; the road is filled with
the perpetual succession of troops and artillery; and, if some
disaffection lurks in the towns, the peasants, especially the
Germans, are inflamed with a strong desire of encountering the
murderers of their Countrymen. Mr. de Watteville, with whom you dined
at my house last year, refused to accept the command of the Swiss
succour of Geneva, till it was made his first instruction that he
should never, in any case, surrender himself prisoner of War.
In this situation, you may suppose that we have some fears. I have
great dependence, however, on the many chances in our favour, the
valour of the Swiss, the return of the Piedmontese with their
Austrian allies, 8 or 10 thousand men from the Milanese, a diversion
from Spain, the great events (how slowly they proceed) on the side of
Paris, the inconstancy and want of discipline of the French, and the
near approach of the winter season. I am not nervous, but I will not
be rash. It will be painful to abandon my house and library; but if
the danger should approach, I will retreat before it, first to Bern,
and gradually to the North. Should I even be forced to take refuge
in England (a violent measure so late in the year) you would perhaps
receive me as kindly as you do the French priests--a noble act of
hospitality! Could I have foreseen this storm, I would have been
there six months ago; but who can foresee the wild measures of the
Savages of Gaul? We thought ourselves perfectly out of the Hurricane
latitudes. Adieu. I am going to bed, and must rise early to visit
the Neckers at Rolle, whither they have retired, from the frontier
situation of Copet. Severy is on horseback, with his dragoons: his
poor father is dangerously ill. It will be shocking if it should be
found necessary to remove him. While we are in this very awkward
crisis, I will write at least every week.
Ever yours,
E. G.
Write instantly, and remember all my commissions.
I will keep my promise of sending you a weekly journal of our
troubles, that, when the piping times of peace are restored, I may
sleep in long and irreproachable silence; but I shall use a smaller
paper, as our military exploits will seldom be sufficient to fill the
ample size of an English quarto.*
[243] On September 21, 1792, without any declaration of war,
Montesquieu entered Savoy, seized Montmélian and Chambéry, and in
a few days overran the whole duchy. In Piedmont the French troops
under General Anselme, supported by Admiral Truguet and the
Toulon fleet, captured Nice and Villa Franca. The Duchy of Savoy
was incorporated with France in November, 1792, as the Department
of Mont-Blanc, and the Comté of Nice as the Department of the
Maritime Alps.