yesterday morning (such is now the irregular slowness of the English
post) I was suddenly struck, indeed struck to the heart, by the fatal
intelligence[313] from Sir Henry Clinton and M. de Lally. Alas!
what is life, and what are our hopes and projects! When I embraced
her at your departure from Lausanne, could I imagine that it was
for the last time? When I postponed to another summer my journey
to England, could I apprehend that I never, never should see her
again? I have often deplored the nervous complaints which so deeply
affected her happiness and spirits, but I always hoped that she would
spin her feeble thread to a long duration, and that her delicate
frame would survive (as is often the case) many constitutions of a
stouter appearance. In four days! in your absence, in that of her
children! But she is now at rest; and if there be a future state,
her mild virtues have surely entitled her to the reward of pure and
perfect felicity. It is for you that I feel; and I can judge of your
sentiments by comparing them with my own. I have lost, it is true,
an amiable and affectionate friend, whom I had known and loved above
three and twenty years, and whom I often styled by the endearing name
of sister. But you are deprived of the companion of your life, the
wife of your choice, and the mother of your children--poor children!
The energy of Maria, and the softness of Louisa, render them almost
equally the objects of my tenderest compassion. I do not wish to
aggravate your grief; but, in the sincerity of friendship, I cannot
hold a different language. I know the impotence of reason, and I much
fear that the strength of your character will serve to make a sharper
and more lasting impression.
The only consolation in these melancholy tryals to which human life
is exposed, the only one at least in which I have any confidence, is
the presence of a real friend; and of that, as far as it depends on
myself, you shall not be destitute. I regret the few days that must
be lost in some necessary preparations; but I trust that to-morrow
se'nnight (May the fifth) I shall be able to set forwards on my
journey to England; and when this letter reaches you, I shall be
considerably advanced on my way. As it is yet prudent to keep at
a respectful distance from the banks of the French Rhine, I shall
incline a little to the right, and proceed by Schaffhausen and
Stutgard to Frankfort and Cologne: the Austrian Netherlands are now
open and safe, and I am sure of being able at least to pass from
Ostend to Dover; from whence, without passing through London, I shall
pursue the direct road to Sheffield-place. Unless I should meet with
some unforeseen accidents and delays, I hope, before the end of the
month, to share your solitude, and sympathise with your grief. All
the difficulties of the journey, which my indolence had probably
magnified, have now disappeared before a stronger passion; and you
will not be sorry to hear, that, as far as Frankfort to Cologne,
I shall enjoy the advantage of the society, the conversation, the
German language, and the active assistance of Severy. His attachment
to me is the sole motive which prompts him to undertake this
troublesome journey: and as soon as he has seen me over the roughest
ground, he will immediately return to Lausanne. The poor young man
loved Lady S. as a mother, and the whole family is deeply affected
by an event which reminds them too painfully of their own. Adieu. I
could write Volumes, and shall therefore break off abruptly. I shall
write on the road, and hope to find a few lines à poste restante at
Frankfort and Brussells. Adieu; ever yours.*
[313] Lady Sheffield died April 3, 1793. Her death is said to
have been occasioned by her attendance upon the sick _émigrés_ at
Guy's hospital (_Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1793, part i. p. 379).
621.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Lausanne, May, 1793.
*MY DEAR FRIEND,
[Sidenote: ADVICE FOR FRIENDS IN GRIEF.]
I must write a few lines before my departure, though indeed I
scarcely know what to say. Nearly a fortnight has now elapsed
since the first melancholy tidings, without my having received the
slightest subsequent accounts of your health and situation. Your
own silence announces too forcibly how much you are involved in
your own feelings; and I can but too easily conceive that a letter
to me would be more painful than to an indifferent person. But that
amiable man, Count Lally, might surely have written a second time;
but your sister, who is probably with you; but Maria, alas! poor
Maria! I am left in a state of darkness to the workings of my own
fancy, which imagines every thing that is sad and shocking. What can
I think of for your relief and comfort? I will not expatiate on those
common-place topics, which have never dryed a single tear; but let me
advise, let me urge, you to force yourself into business, as I would
try to force myself into study. The mind must not be idle; if it be
not exercised on external objects, it will prey on its own vitals.
A thousand little arrangements, which must precede a long Journey,
have postponed my departure three or four days beyond the term
which I had first appointed; but all is now in order, and I set off
to-morrow, the ninth instant, with my Valet de Chambre, a courier
on horseback, and Severy, with his servant, as far as Frankfort.
I calculate my arrival at Sheffield-place (how I dread and desire
to see that mansion!) for the first week in June, soon after this
letter; but I will try to send you some later intelligence. I never
found myself stronger, or in better health. The German road is
now cleared, both of enemies and allies, and though I must expect
fatigue, I have not any apprehensions of danger. It is scarcely
possible that you should meet me at Frankfort, but I shall be much
disappointed at not finding a line at Brussels or Ostend. Adieu. If
there be any invisible guardians, may they watch over you and yours!
Adieu.*
621*.
_To Lady Elisabeth Foster._
Lausanne, May the 4th, 1793.
I know not whether you are already informed of the sudden death of
poor Lady Sheffield after four days' illness; but I am sure that your
feeling affectionate mind will not be surprized to hear that I set
out for England next week, and that in a journey undertaken at the
call of friendship all the dragons of the way have already vanished.
I go by Basle, Frankfort, Cologne, Brussels, and Ostend, and I
flatter myself that the success of our allied arms will contribute
every week to open my passage; it is even possible, though scarcely
probable, that I may embark from the English town of Calais. Your
answer to my last letter is doubtless on the road and will follow me:
but you must write immediately to Sheffield place, and I promise you
a speedy and sincere account of our afflicted friend. I wish to hear
of your motions and projects; I now sigh for your return to England,
and shall be most bitterly disappointed if I have not the pleasure
of seeing you in that happy island, yourself and the most amiable
of Dutchesses before the end of the autumn: I cannot look with
confidence beyond that period.
My friend and your Chevalier[314] will guard me as far as Cologne
or Frankfort; his tender attachment to his mother who is still very
melancholy will recall him from thence to Lausanne; but in the course
of next winter he has thoughts of visiting England. The circumstances
of the times which impoverish every one, have persuaded him to
listen to my advice of conducting on his travels some English pupill
of fashion and fortune. Such a pupill will be fortunate in finding a
real Gentleman, and I trust that the Dutchess and yourself will exert
your omnipotence in providing some connection equally honourable and
advantageous for my friend, and your sincere Votary. Adieu. Excuse
brevity and address a Classic prayer in my behalf before some statue
of Mercury the God of travellers.
[314] Wilhelm de Severy.
622.
_To his Stepmother._
Lausanne, May the 8th (my fifty-seventh birthday), 1793.
DEAR MADAM,
[Sidenote: JOURNEY TO ENGLAND.]
I have the pleasure of acquainting you that to-morrow, the 9th
instant, I set forwards for England, but the pleasure of revisiting
my friends and my native country is deeply embittered by the
melancholy tidings from Downing Street, which have fixed and hastened
my Journey. I travel by the way of Frankfort and Brussells, and
your tenderness should not feel the slightest apprehension for my
safety. Every enquiry is made, every convenience is provided, every
precaution is taken, and though there will undoubtedly be some
fatigue, I can assure you with truth, that there does not remain
the shadow of a danger. I may expect to reach Sheffield-place the
first week in June, from whence I will immediately give you a line.
My first cares must be devoted to poor Lord S., whose grief I feel
and even fear, but I shall be impatient to see the Belvidere and the
maternal countenance of my most faithful friend. May the progress of
fine weather confirm your health and spirits. My own are perfectly
good, and I never, in my whole life, found myself better qualified
for a long Journey.
I am, Dear Madam,
Ever most affectionately yours,
E. GIBBON.
623.
_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._
Mercer's Hall, 14th May, 1793.
We shall ever acknowledge that you are a right good friend. I was
hardly able to read your letter. This is the first foreign post
since its arrival. I had hopes you would come forthwith, but hardly
expected such an effort as your speedy departure required. Maria &
Louisa rejoice at your approach, Sarah is with us. Your apartment
will be prepared; your letter arrived too late for me to write to
you at Francfort. I shall address this to Brussels. All Friends wish
me to involve myself as much as possible in business; I am so with a
vengeance in a commission[315] (at the Head of which I am) for the
Issue of 5 millions of Exchequer Bills for the relief of Commercial
Credit--a matter very interesting indeed, & which I flatter myself
will be of great service. I pass the day at Mercer's Hall with my
fellow Commissioners--16 of the chief men of the City, excellent men,
and four others.
Yours ever,
S.
[315] A select committee appointed (April 25, 1793) to consider
the state of commercial credit reported (April 29), recommending,
_inter alia_, that five millions should be issued in Exchequer
Bills for the relief of credit. The report was considered on
April 30; a resolution, and subsequently a Bill, were carried
for the issue of the Bills. A commission was appointed (May 3),
with Lord Sheffield at the head of it, to effect the necessary
arrangements.
624.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Frankfort, May 19th, 1793.
[Sidenote: FRENCH COURAGE DESERVES BETTER CAUSE.]
*And here I am, in good health and spirits, after one of the
easiest, safest, and pleasantest journies which I ever performed
in my whole life; not the appearance of an enemy, and hardly the
appearance of a War. Yet I hear, as I am writing, the canon of the
siege of Mayence,[316] at the distance of twenty miles; and long,
very long, will it be heard. It is confessed on all sides, that
the French fight with a courage worthy of a better cause: the town
of Mayence is strong, their artillery admirable; they are already
reduced to horse-flesh, but they have still the resource of eating
the inhabitants, and at last of eating one another; and, if that
repast could be extended to Paris and the whole country, it might
essentially contribute to the relief of mankind. Our operations are
carried on with more than German slowness, and when the besieged are
quiet, the besiegers are perfectly satisfied with their progress.
A spirit of division undoubtedly prevails; and the character of
the Prussians for courage and discipline is sunk lower then you
can possibly imagine. Their glory has expired with Frederic. I am
sorry to have missed Lord Elgin,[317] who is beyond the Rhine with
the King of Prussia. As I am impatient, I propose setting forwards
to-morrow afternoon, and shall reach Ostend in less than eight
days. The passage must depend on winds and packets; and I hope to
find at Brussels or Dover a letter which will direct me to S. P. or
Downing-street. Severy goes back from hence. Adieu: I embrace the
dear Girls.
Ever yours,
E. G.*
[316] Mayence was invested by the Prussian and Austrian forces
early in April, 1793. It was surrendered July 22, 1793.
[317] Thomas, Lord Elgin, was appointed in August, 1792, Envoy
Extraordinary at Brussels. Subsequently appointed Ambassador at
Constantinople in 1799, he collected the Elgin marbles.
625.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Brussels, May 27, 1793.
*This day, between two and three o'Clock in the afternoon, I am
arrived at this place in excellent preservation. My expedition, which
is now drawing to a close, has been a journey of perseverance rather
than speed, of some labour since Frankfort, but without the smallest
degree of difficulty or danger. As I have every morning been seated
in the Chaise soon after sun-rise, I propose indulging to-morrow
till eleven o'Clock, and going that day no farther than Ghent: on
Wednesday the 29th instant I shall reach Ostend in good time, just
eight days, according to my former reckoning, from Frankfort. Beyond
that I can say nothing positive; but should the winds be propitious,
it is possible that I may appear next Saturday, June 1st, in Downing
Street. After that _earliest_ date, you will expect me day by day
till I arrive. Adieu. I embrace the dear Girls, and salute Mrs.
Holroyd. I rejoyce that you have anticipated my advice of plunging
into business; but I should now be sorry if that business, however
important, detained us long in town. I do not wish to make a public
exhibition, and only sigh to enjoy you and the precious remnant in
the solitude of Sheffield-place.
Ever yours,
E. G.
If I am successful I may outstrip or accompany this letter. Yours and
Maria's waited for me here, and overpaid the Journey.*
626.
_To his Stepmother._
Downing Street, June 13th, 1793.
DEAR MADAM,
As you know that I am now safe, well and happy at my friend Lord
Sheffield, you will easily excuse a delay of some days in my promised
letter.
As long as I was on the road, and it was a long time, your
apprehensions, I am much afraid, were awakened not so much in
proportion to the real magnitude of the danger, as to the exquisite
sensibility of your own feelings. For my own part, though the scene
was nearer and more familiar to me, I must fairly own, that I saw
through a magnifyer, and that my resolution to visit Lord Sheffield
in his state of affliction was an effort of some courage. But I
was most agreably surprized to find the Lyons whom I had seen at
a distance become little gentle lap-dogs on a nearer approach. I
wheeled round behind the armies by the way of Basel, Frankfort,
Cologne, Brussells, and Ostend, without meeting with any hostile
impediment, and indeed without seeing the face of a Soldier. My
passage from Ostend was short and prosperous, and I reached Downing
Street not in the least affected by the fatigue of a rough and
tedious journey. I found Lord S. much better and even more chearful
than I could have expected: he feels his loss, but the new scenes of
public business in which he verily wisely engaged have alleviated
his grief by occupying his mind. The Ladies are gone into the
Country, and he proposes to follow them next week. I could much have
wished to visit Bath without delay: but Lord S. will not hear of so
early a separation, and as he is the immediate object of my journey,
I must submit, unless you particularly desire to see me very soon.
Adieu.
Dear Madam,
I am ever yours,
E. GIBBON.
627.
_Mrs. Gibbon to Edward Gibbon._
Thursday Noon.
MY DEAREST SIR,
[Sidenote: MRS. GIBBON'S JOY.]
I truely rejoice, & congratulate you on your being once more safely
arrived in your native Country; may health & happiness attend you
in it. I am so happy that you have escaped all the evils I foresaw
& dreaded, that I find myself better then I have been this year,
& this letter is a proof of it; my last but one was to you, as a
complaint in my head frighted me from attempting to use a pen, & I
hope the forbearance has cured it. I wish'd to tell you so yesterday,
but the joy your letter gave would not suffer my hand to be steady
enough to write. I thank you most sincerely for writing so soon, &
shall impatiently expect the letter you promise me. I am glad you
are with Lord Sheffield. When you write tell me how he does; & the
young ladies are. I shall soon acknowledge Mrs. Holroyd's kindness in
writing to me; make best & kindest Compliments for me, & believe me,
My Dear Sir,
Most affectionately yours,
D. GIBBON.
628.
_Mrs. Gibbon to Edward Gibbon._
Belvedere, Bath, August 29, '93.
MY DEAR SIR,
I have but one excuse for not answering your last letter, to wit, not
being able, as I could not hold a pen steady enough to write; yet
I never felt myself happier, because I never was so miserable, as
from the time those vile miscreants the french Democrats was within
forty miles of Lausanne, till you arrived safe in England. Many has
been the disappointments I have borne with fortitude, but the fear of
having my last & only friend torn from me, was very near overseting
my reason: my aggitation prevented my feeling my excessive weakness,
till after I had answered your letter, which gave me a joy I shall
never again experience, at least I hope not, as I trust you will not
be any more expos'd to such eminent danger.
If I have the satisfaction of seeing you next month, I shall be
more able to enjoy your Conversation, as my health & strength are
wonderfully improv'd within this fortnight; but as much as I long
to see you, I would not be the cause of bringing you from agreeable
partys & places you like, till it is convenient to you to come. I
have not been out this twelve month, dare not encounter the heat, &
have little company at home. Your friend Mrs. Gould is as agreeable
as ever, Mrs. R. grows old, Mrs. Shelly just as usual. Madame Ely &
Mrs. Bonfoy are here. Mrs. Holroyd has probably told you that Miss
Gould is now Mrs. Horneck. I wish she had been Mrs. Gibbon.
I am very sorry to hear Miss Louisa Holroyd's health is so
indifferent, she is a charming girle, & her sister a very fine one,
pray say every thing that is kind to both the Ladies for me; make my
best compliments to Lord Sheffield, I make my own to Mrs. Holroyd;
let me know when I may hope to see you, and believe me to be,
My Dear Sir,
Your most affectionate
D. GIBBON.
629.
_To his Stepmother._
Sheffield Place, Sept. 3, 1793.
DEAR MADAM,
Many days have passed away, since I have received any letter so
truly, so dearly acceptable as your last. I had no occasion indeed
for any fresh assurances of that regard and tenderness which I have
invariably known and felt during the space of thirty-five years: but
I was delighted at seeing under your own hand, and again confirmed by
your letter of the same date to Mrs. Holroyd, the clearest evidence
of your health, spirits, and strength, and I am still more persuaded
that some minds will rise superior to the infirmities which Nature
has attached to the advanced period of human life.
[Sidenote: ANXIETY TO SEE MRS. GIBBON.]
My own inclinations would immediately have carried me to the
Belvidere from Dover or London; but reason compelled me to
acknowledge that, as Lord Sheffield's unexpected misfortune had
prompted me to undertake a Journey more hazardous in appearance
than in reality, my first attention was due to him, and that it
was incumbent on me to try how far the society of a friend might
contribute to his relief and amusement. In the three months which we
have now spent together I have had the satisfaction of finding that
my labours have not been unsuccessful. Our domestic society, which is
much improved by the presence of Mrs. Holroyd, some chosen company
in the house, the seasonable diversion of Camps and visits, and
above all, the very important business of the Exchequer bills which
frequently calls him to Mercer's hall, have seconded my endeavours,
and I shall leave him in a placid and even chearful temper of mind.
As I now find myself of less use, I had fixed my departure about
the 15th or 20th instant, but he absolutely insists on keeping me
here till the end of the month; and as we expect a very agreable
friend, Mr. Douglas, who married Lady Catherine North, I am almost
inclined to yield to his importunity. At all events, as I shall only
pass three or four days in town, you may depend on seeing me at Bath
in the first week of October. I remember that your elegant little
mansion will not admit of an additional inhabitant, though I may be
perfectly accommodated as heretofore either in your court or over
the way. But I am likewise ignorant whether our dining together, at
my Lausanne hours of two or three o'Clock, may not be too great an
exertion for your returning strength. Should you content yourself
with receiving my morning and afternoon visits (and perhaps such an
arrangement would be the most prudent), I might be tempted to prefer
the Hotel, from whence a chair would convey me in a few minutes to
the Belvidere. I shall expect on that subject a line from yourself or
our old friend Mrs. Gould. Lord S., who is gone to town this morning,
and the young Ladies beg to be kindly remembered to you. Mrs. H.
will soon answer your obliging letter. I have a thousand things
to say, but they will be best deferred for our interview, which I
impatiently desire.
I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. GIBBON.
630.
_To Lord Sheffield._
October 2nd, 1793.
*The Cork Street hotel has answered its recommendation; it is clean,
convenient, and quiet,* but the expence for a Winter residence,
five guineas per week for two small rooms and closet, would much
surpass that of a similar lodging without affording any superior
advantages. *My first evening was passed at home in a very agreeable
_tête-à-tête_ with my friend Elmsley. Yesterday I dined at Craufurd's
with an excellent set, in which were Pelham and Lord Egremont. I dine
to-day with my Portuguese woman[318] at Grenier's, most probably
with the well-washed feet of Lady W[ebster], whom I met last night
at Devonshire-house; a constant, though late, resort of society. The
Duchess is as good, and Lady Elizabeth as seducing, as ever. No news
whatsoever. You will see in the papers Lord Hervey's Memorial.[319]
I love vigour, but it is surely a strong measure to tell a gentleman
you have _resolved_ to pass the winter in his house. London is not
disagreeable; yet I shall probably leave it Saturday. If any thing
should occur, I will write.* Douglas with the Doctor, &c., called on
me this morning. *Adieu; I embrace dear little Aunt and la Marmaille.
Ever yours.*
P.S.--I have not had your letter, and if you could impart
particulars, they should be entrusted only to Vulcan.
[318] Madame de Sylva.
[319] John Augustus, Lord Hervey, a captain in the Royal Navy,
second son of the Bishop of Derry, and brother to Lady Elisabeth
Foster, was ambassador at Florence from 1787 to 1794. In 1793
he insisted in a violent note on the dismissal of the French
Minister, La Flotte, from the court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany.
"It was generally supposed," writes Lord Holland, (_Memoirs of
the Whig Party_, p. 56), "in the _maldicente_ city of Florence,
that resentment at the French Minister for having supplanted
him in the good graces of a lady quickened his hatred of the
French Republick, or at least gave it the turn of insisting on
the dismissal of his rival." Lord Hervey, in consequence of the
affair, was recalled from Florence in 1794.
631.
_To his Stepmother._
Cork Street Hotel, Friday, October 4th, 1793.
DEAR MADAM,
[Sidenote: FROM LONDON TO BATH.]
I propose to reach Bath next Monday for a _very_ late dinner at
York-house, where my old friend Will Budd will be so good as to
secure me a bed-chamber and dining-room on the same floor with
accommodations for two servants. I am very impatient to embrace you,
but must postpone that pleasure till the _usual_ time of your rising
next day: for not the minutest circumstance of your life must be
disarranged on my account, as I mean to leave you in every point of
health and spirits at least as well as I find you.
I am
Ever yours,
E. G.
632.
_To Lord Sheffield._
York-house, Bath, October 9th, 1793.