=Source.=--_Letters of Horace Walpole._
_To Rev. William Cole, Strawberry Hill, June 15, 1780._
You may like to know one is alive, dear sir, after a massacre and the
conflagration of a capital. I was in it, both on the Friday, and on the
Black Wednesday; the most horrible sight I ever beheld, and which, for
six hours together, I expected to end in half the town being reduced to
ashes. I can give you little account of the original of this shocking
affair; negligence was certainly its nurse, and religion only its
godmother. The ostensible author is in the Tower. Twelve or fourteen
thousand men have quelled all tumults; and as no bad account is come
from the country, except for a moment at Bath, and as eight days have
passed--nay, more, since the commencement--I flatter myself the whole
nation is shocked at the scene; and that, if plan there was, it was
laid only in and for the metropolis. The lowest and most villainous
people, and to no great amount, were almost the sole actors.
I hope your electioneering riotry has not, nor will mix in these
tumults. It would be most absurd; for lord Rockingham, the duke of
Richmond, Sir George Saville, and Mr. Burke, the patrons of toleration,
were devoted to destruction as much as the ministers. The rails torn
from Sir George’s house were the chief weapons and instruments of the
mob. For the honour of the nation I should be glad to have it proved
that the French were the engineers. You and I have lived too long for
comfort--shall we close our eyes in peace? I will not trouble you more
about the arms I sent you: I should like that they were those of the
family of Boleyn; and since I cannot be sure they were not, why should
not I fancy them so? I revert to the prayer for peace. You and I, that
can amuse ourselves with our books and papers, feel as much indignation
at the turbulent as they have scorn for us. It is hard at least that
they who disturb nobody can have no asylum in which to pursue their
innoxious indolence! Who is secure against Jack Straw and a whirlwind?
How I abominate Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander, who routed the poor
Otaheitans out of the centre of the ocean, and carried our abominable
passions amongst them! not even that poor little speck could escape
European restlessness. Well, I have seen many tempestuous scenes, and
outlived them! the present prospect is too thick to see through--it is
well hope never forsakes us. Adieu!
Yours most sincerely.