Class 
 Book 
 
 
 
I 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 

MRS. DELANY 
 
 (MARY GRANVILLE) 
 A MEMOIR 
 
 1700-1788 
 
 COMPILED BY f 
 
 GEORGE PASTON 
 
 With Seve?i Portraits in Photogravure 
 
 LONDON 
 
 GRANT RICHARDS 
 
 1900 
 
HA 
 
 
 
 First printed March 1900 
 Reprinted May 1900 
 
 ^-^rbS 
 
 o* 
 
 Edinburgh : T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In 1861-62 Mrs. Delanys Autobiography and Correspond- 
 ence, edited by the late Lady Llanover, was published by 
 Mr. Bentley in six volumes, the price being five pounds 
 the set. This edition, the size and cost of which placed 
 it beyond the reach of the general public, has long been 
 out of print. In 1898 I received permission from the 
 representatives of Mrs. Delany\s family to prepare an 
 abridged or popular version of the book. In this work 
 I have had the kind help and encouragement of the 
 late editor's daughter, the Honourable Mrs. Herbert of 
 Llanover, who was so good as to give me the opportunity 
 of examining the manuscripts, pictures, embroideries, and 
 other relics of Mrs. Delany which are now preserved at 
 Llanover. Among the papers I found several interesting 
 unpublished letters as well as some curious records of 
 the social life of the period. Those that are in Mrs. 
 Delany's own hand are inserted, in their proper order, in 
 the body of the work, while the remainder will be found 
 in a supplemental chapter. Mr. Ram, Q.C., another 
 
PREFACE 
 
 descendant of the Granville family, was kind enough to 
 lend me a packet of Mrs. Delany's unpublished letters, 
 from which some characteristic passages are quoted. 
 
 I have to thank Messrs. Macmillan & Co., to whom 
 Mr. Bentley's publishing rights have passed, for per- 
 mission to print extracts from the Autobiography and 
 Correspondence. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. I700-I7I7, 
 
 PAGE 
 1 
 
 II. I7I7-I724, 
 
 18 
 
 III. 1724-1729, 
 
 36 
 
 iv. 1729-1732, 
 
 50 
 
 v. 1 732-1734, 
 
 71 
 
 vi. 1 734-1 736, 
 
 87 
 
 vii. 1736-1740, 
 
 101 
 
 viii. 1741-1744, 
 
 . 116 
 
 ix. 1 744-1 748, 
 
 . 134 
 
 x. 1749-1752, 
 
 150 
 
 xi. 1752-1756, 
 
 164 
 
 xii. 1756-1766, 
 
 179 
 
 xiii. 1767-1772, 
 
 . 191 
 
 xiv. 1772-1776, 
 
 . 207 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 xv. 1 7 76-1 779, 
 
 PAGE 
 . 220 
 
 xvi. 1 779-1 783, 
 
 . 232 
 
 xvii. 1 783-1 785, 
 
 . 245 
 
 xviii. 1 786- 1 788, 
 
 . 259 
 
 xix. 1788, . 
 
 . 272 
 
 XX. "j 
 
 J- SUPPLEMENTAL, 
 
 277-9,0.*} 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Mrs. Delany, .... 
 Catherine Hyde, Duchess of Queensberry, 
 Mrs. Delany, .... 
 Anne Granville, .... 
 Mrs. Granville, Mother op Mrs. Delany, 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 
 
 46 
 
 78 
 
 108 
 
 148 
 
 Margaret Cavendish Hari.ey, afterwards Duchess of 
 
 Portland, . . . . . .192 
 
 Georoina Mary Ann Port, Mrs, Delany's Great-Niece, 2£4 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 (MARY GRANVILLE) 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 (1700-1717) 
 
 Mrs. Delany, born Mary Granville, was a daughter of the 
 famous house which claims descent through the Earls of 
 Corbeil from Rollo, first Duke of Normandy, and whose 
 ancient lineage and territorial influence, together with the 
 brilliant achievements of several of its members, placed it 
 at one time in the foremost ranks of the celebrated historical 
 families of this nation. From their kinsman William 
 Rufus the Granvilles (or Grenvilles, as they were also 
 spelt) receired broad lands in the west country, and 
 kept up such princely state at their seat at Stowe, near 
 Bideford, that one Sir Roger, who flourished about the 
 end of the fifteenth century, earned the name of the 
 ' Great Housekeeper. 1 The most distinguished of Mary 
 Granville's more immediate ancestors were Sir Richard 
 Granville, the Elizabethan admiral, who, as the com- 
 mander of the gallant Revenge, and the hero of 'England's 
 naval Thermopylae,' has been celebrated in song and 
 story ; and his grandsons, Sir Bevil, the Royalist general, 
 who fell at the battle of Lansdown in 1643, and Sir 
 Richard, who was known as 'the King's General in the 
 a 1 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 West. 1 Clarendon gives enthusiastic testimony to the 
 character of Sir Bevil in the following passage : 
 
 'That which would have clouded any victory, and 
 made the loss of others less spoken of, was the death of 
 Sir Bevil Granville. He was indeed an excellent person, 
 whose activity, interest, and reputation were the foundation 
 of what had been done in Cornwall ; and his temper and 
 affection so public that no accident which happened could 
 make any impression on him, and his example kept others 
 from taking anything ill, or at least seeming to do so. 
 In a word, a brighter courage and a gentler disposition 
 were never married together to make the most cheerful 
 and innocent conversation.' 
 
 At the time of his death Sir Bevil had in his pocket a 
 letter from Charles i. acknowledging his services, and a 
 patent for the earldom of Bath, a title that was taken up 
 by his eldest son, John, after the Restoration. His 
 youngest son, Bernard, who was the messenger chosen to 
 convey to Charles n. the news that he was invited to 
 return to his kingdom, left three sons and two daughters : 
 Sir Bevil, Governor of Barbadoes ; George, Secretary 
 of State for War under Queen Anne, created Baron 
 Lansdowne in 1711 ; Bernard, the father of Mrs. Delany ; 
 Anne, Maid of Honour to Queen Mary, and afterwards 
 married to Sir John Stanley ; and Elizabeth, who died 
 unmarried. 
 
 Colonel Bernard Granville, who, as the younger son of 
 a younger son, occupied the position of a poor gentleman 
 with a famous name, does not appear to have mended his 
 fortune by his marriage with the beautiful daughter of 
 Sir Martin Westcombe, Consul at Cadiz. Mary, the 
 eldest daughter, afterwards Mrs. Delany, was born at 
 Coulston, in Wiltshire, on May 14, 1700. It was in 
 2 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 consequence probably of her parents' 1 narrow means that 
 the little girl, at the age of eight, was adopted by her 
 childless aunt, Lady Stanley, who was then living in 
 apartments at Whitehall, Sir John being secretary 
 to the Lord Chamberlain. At first Mary, who had 
 already spent two years at a school kept by a French 
 refugee, found the lonely grandeur of Whitehall but a 
 poor exchange for the fun and frolic of her school life. 
 ' My uncle and aunt," 1 she observes in a fragment of auto- 
 biography written late in life, ' though very kind to me, 
 were too grave and serious to supply the place of the 
 companions I had left. But I soon found new com- 
 panions to cheer me for those I had lost. The fine 
 Gothic gate which divided Whitehall, commonly called 
 the cock-pit, from King Street was inhabited by Hyde, 
 Earl of Rochester. Lord Hyde, the Earl of Rochester's 
 eldest son, married Miss Lewson, daughter of Lord 
 Gower, and grand-daughter of Sir Bevil Granville, and 
 they and their large family at this time all lived with 
 Lord Rochester, and I soon grew into great intimacy 
 with my young cousins. But chiefly my acquaintance 
 was with Miss Catherine, afterwards the celebrated 
 Duchess of Queensberry, who was exactly my own age, 
 and whose wit, beauty, and oddities made her from her 
 early years, when she was " Kitty, beautiful and young," 
 to the end of a long life a general object of animad- 
 version, censure, and admiration. . . . 
 
 'In the year 1710 I first saw Mr. Handel, who was 
 introduced to my uncle by Mr. Heidegger, the famous 
 manager of the opera, and the most ugly man that ever 
 was formed. We had no better instrument in the house 
 than a little spinet of mine, on which that great professor 
 performed wonders. I was much struck by his playing, 
 
 3 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 but struck as a child not as a judge, for the moment he 
 was gone I seated myself to my instrument and played 
 the best lesson I had then learnt. My uncle archly 
 asked me whether I thought I should ever play as well 
 as Mr. Handel. " If I did not think I should," cried I, 
 " I would burn my instrument. 1 ' Such was the innocent 
 presumption of childish ignorance."' 
 
 The autobiographical fragment ends with this anecdote, 
 but in a series of letters, written at the request of her 
 friend the Duchess of Portland, in 1740, Mrs. Delany 
 gives many interesting reminiscences of her eventful youth. 
 The persons mentioned are designated by fictitious names, 
 the key to which was given by Mrs. Delany on a separate 
 sheet of paper, each name having a letter of the alphabet 
 which corresponded with those on the key. These recol- 
 lections begin with the year 1714, when the death of 
 Queen Anne made a great difference to the fortunes of 
 the Granville family. 
 
 'The task you have set me, my dearest Maria, 1 writes Mrs. 
 Delany, ' is a very hard one, and nothing but the comply- 
 ing with the earnest request from so tender a friend could 
 persuade me to undertake it. You are so well acquainted 
 with my family that it is unnecessary for me to inform you of 
 the ebbs and flows that have attended it for many years : in 
 the most prosperous time of our fortune you were not born. 
 The death of Queen Anne made a considerable alteration in 
 our affairs : we were of the discontented party, and not 
 without reason ; not only my father, but all my relations 
 that were in public employments, suffered greatly by this 
 change. My father being a younger brother, his chief 
 dependence was on the favour of the Court and his 
 brother's friendship ; the first being withdrawn, he had 
 recourse to the latter ; he was offered by him a retreat 
 4 
 
MRS>DELANY 
 
 in the country and an addition to the small remains of 
 his fortune ; he retired with my mother, my sister, and 
 myself. Anna (my sister's name), who was then a little 
 girl, too young to consider how such a retirement might 
 prove to her disadvantage, was delighted with a new 
 scene. 
 
 ' I was then fifteen years of age, had been brought up 
 under the care of my aunt Valeria [Lady Stanley], a 
 woman of extraordinary sense, remarkably well-bred and 
 agreeable, who had been Maid of Honour to Queen Mary, 
 was particularly favoured and distinguished by her, and 
 early attained all the advantages of such an education 
 under so great and excellent a princess, without the least 
 taint or blemish incident to that state of life so dangerous 
 to young minds. Her penetration made her betimes 
 observe an impetuosity in my temper, which made her 
 judge it necessary to mortify it by mortifying my spirit, 
 lest it should grow too lively and unruly for my reason. 
 I own I often found it rebellious, and could ill bear the 
 frequent checks I met with, which I too easily inter- 
 preted into indignities, and have not been able wholly to 
 reconcile to any other character from that day to this. 
 Nevertheless, the train of mortifications that I have met 
 with since convince me that it was happy for me to be 
 early inured to disappointments and vexations. Valeria 
 was very fond of me, but too generous to deprive my 
 father and mother of what they might think a comfort in 
 their retirement, so upon their going into the country I 
 quitted her and went with them. -1 
 
 In an explanation appended to the above letter by 
 Mrs. Delany, she relates that 'Alcander [Lord Lans- 
 downe], the year after the accession of George i., was 
 sent to the Tower at the same time with Lord Oxford. 
 
 5 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 My father, who then resided in Poland Street, upon this 
 change in the affairs of his family, determined upon 
 retiring into the country. He ordered two carriages to 
 be at his door at six o'clock, and gave a charge to all his 
 people not to mention his design, as he did not wish to 
 take a solemn leave of his friends upon an absence of 
 such uncertain duration. The man from whom the horses 
 were hired, and who proved to be a spy, immediately, in 
 hopes of a reward, gave information at the Secretary of 
 State's office of these private orders, affirming that it was 
 his belief the colonel and his family were going secretly 
 out of the kingdom. I was sleeping in the same bed with 
 my sister, when I was suddenly awakened by a disturb- 
 ance in my room. My first idea was of being called to 
 rise early in order to sit for my picture, which was then 
 painting for my father, but the moment I looked round 
 I saw two soldiers standing by the bedside with guns in 
 their hands. I shrieked with terror, and started up in 
 my bed. " Come, misses," cried one of the men, " make 
 haste and get up, for you are going to Lord Townshend's " 
 (then Secretary of State). I cried violently, and they 
 desired me not to be frightened. My mother's maid was 
 with difficulty admitted into the room to dress us. My 
 little sister, then but nine years old, had conceived no 
 terror from this intrusion, but when the maid was going 
 to put on her frock, called out, "No, no, I won't wear 
 that frock. I must wear my bib and apron ; I am going 
 to Lord Townshend's." 
 
 'When we were dressed we were carried to my father 
 and mother, whom we found surrounded by officers and 
 messengers, two of each and sixteen soldiers being em- 
 ployed about the house. My father was extremely 
 shocked by this scene, but supported himself with the 
 £ 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 utmost composure and magnanimity, his chief care being 
 to calm and comfort my mother, who was greatly terrified, 
 and fell into hysteric fits, one after the other. Here, before 
 any removal could take place, whilst we were in the midst 
 of our distress and alarm, my aunt Valeria forced her way 
 into the room. Intelligence having reached her of the 
 situation we were in, she instantly came, but was refused 
 admittance. She was not, however, to be denied ; she 
 told the officers that she would be answerable for every- 
 thing to Lord Townshend, and insisted on passing with 
 a courage and firmness that conquered their opposition. 
 I can never forget her meeting with my father ; she loved 
 him with the extremest affection, and could never part 
 from him, even for a short absence, without tears. They 
 embraced each other with the most tender sadness, and 
 she was extremely good in consoling my poor mother. 
 She entreated that the messengers would at least suffer 
 her to convey them to their confinement herself in her 
 own coach, but this they peremptorily refused. She then 
 protested she would be responsible for carrying her two 
 young nieces to her own house, instead of seeing them 
 conveyed to the messenger's, and in this point she con- 
 quered, and being forced to separate from my father, she 
 had us both put into her coach and carried to White- 
 hall . . ; 
 
 How Colonel Granville and his wife obtained their 
 liberty we are not told, but it appears that in November 
 of the same year they were allowed to leave town with 
 their two daughters, and travelled for five days through 
 miserable weather to their new home at Buckland, near 
 Campden, in Gloucestershire. 'At the age that I left 
 the fine world,' continues the narrator, ' I may own, with- 
 out fear of much reproach, that I left it with regret. I 
 
 7 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 had been brought up with the expectation of being Maid 
 of Honour, Queen Anne having put down my name for 
 the office with her own hand. I had been at one play 
 and one opera, and thought the poets 1 description of the 
 Elysian fields nothing to the delights of these entertain- 
 ments ; I lamented the loss of my young companions, and 
 the universal gaiety I parted with when I left London. 
 I often repeated Mr. Pope's verses to a young lady on 
 her leaving the town after the coronation. And to make 
 the change appear still more gloomy, all this I quitted 
 in November, travelled through miserable roads, and in a 
 few days after our arrival at the farm, was blocked up 
 from all intercourse with our neighbours by as severe a 
 frost as was ever known in England, which prevented 
 company coming to us, or our going abroad. At that 
 time I thought it a loss, though my father's excellent 
 temper, great cheerfulness, and uncommon good-humour 
 made him exert himself for our entertainment at home ; 
 and as I loved him excessively, and admired everything 
 he said and did, I should soon have found consolation 
 from his engaging manners, but the dejectedness of my 
 mother's spirits, occasioned by the disappointments my 
 father had met with in his fortune, and the not being 
 able to give her children all the advantages in their 
 situation she wished to do, made her unable to support 
 herself, and often affected her to so great a degree as to 
 prejudice her health. This hurt my father, and I felt it 
 on a double account. 
 
 ' Three months passed in this place without any variety. 
 I was kept to my stated hours for practising, reading, 
 writing, music, and French, and after that I was expected 
 to sit down to work. My father generally read to us. 
 In the evening I was called upon to make up a party at 
 8 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 whist with my father and mother and the minister of 
 the parish . . . This was our chief entertainment till 
 Roberto [Mr. Twyford] came into the neighbourhood, 
 a young gentleman who was driven to shelter there by 
 some hot-headed, misguided zealots [Sir William Wynd- 
 ham and others]. Their chief betrayed them, and Roberto 
 was obliged to seek for refuge at Tranio's [Mr. Tooker] 
 who had been a great friend of his father's. He was 
 twenty-two, tall, handsome, lively, and good-humoured. 
 The first Sunday after he came he met us all at church, 
 and my father asked him to eat beef and pudding with 
 his landlord. He came, and the next day he came again. 
 He pleased my father extremely : they grew so fond of 
 each other that by degrees the farm was his home, and 
 my mother was glad to encourage his visits. 
 
 'The spring passed on tolerably well, the days 
 brightened and lengthened, and we had compliments and 
 visits from all our neighbours. In March Roberto left us 
 to return home, all things being quiet in the country at 
 that time ; but he promised my father he would come 
 and make him a visit the latter end of the year. About 
 this time I contracted a friendship for Sappho [Sarah 
 Kirkham, afterwards Mrs. Chapone], a clergyman's 
 daughter in the neighbourhood. She had an uncommon 
 genius and intrepid spirit, which, though really innocent, 
 alarmed my father. He loved gentleness and reserve in 
 the behaviour of women, and could not bear anything 
 that seemed free or masculine. I was convinced of her 
 innocence, and saw no fault in her. She entertained and 
 flattered me, but by the improvement she has since made, 
 I see she was not then the perfect creature I thought her. 
 We wrote to each other every day, and met in the fields 
 between our fathers 1 houses as often as we had an oppor- 
 
 9 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 tunity. Her extraordinary understanding, lively imagina- 
 tion, and humane disposition, which soon became con- 
 spicuous, at last reconciled my father to her, and he never 
 after debarred me the pleasure of seeing her . . . 
 
 ' At the end of the year Roberto returned according to 
 his promise. I found his behaviour not at all what it 
 used to be ; he was often silent and thoughtful. When I 
 came down in a morning to practise my harpsichord, he 
 was always in the room, and he would place himself beside 
 me while I played. Whenever I went to my favourite 
 bench he followed me immediately. One day he took 
 me by the hand as I was coming downstairs, and said, 
 " He almost wished he had never known the family." After 
 he had been a month with us my mother took notice of 
 his being more particular in his behaviour towards me ; 
 even my little sister Anna made several observations that 
 made Roberto blush, and me angry at her pertness. My 
 mother cautioned me not to leave my room in a morning 
 till she sent for me, and never permitted me to walk 
 without a servant when she or my father could not go 
 with me. Roberto, I believe, designed speaking to me 
 first, in which being disappointed he applied to my father, 
 and made proposals of marriage. He told him I had no 
 fortune, and it was very probable, for this reason, his 
 friends would not approve of his desire ; if they did, he 
 had so high an opinion of him that he should be well 
 pleased with his alliance. Upon which Roberto returned 
 home to try what he could do with his friends, but after 
 some months 1 trial to get his parents to consent he wrote 
 my father that they were inexorable. This he appre- 
 hended before he went, and pressed me very much to 
 marry him privately, but I was offended at the proposal, 
 and desired him, if he could not gain the consent he 
 10 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 wished to have, to think no more of me. I little thought 
 then how fatal this disappointment would prove to him. 
 I was very easy when the affair was over, and rather glad 
 of it. 1 
 
 The following autumn Mary received an invitation to 
 stay with her uncle Lord Lansdowne (called Alcander in 
 the Autobiography) at Longleat. Lord Lansdowne had 
 been confined in the Tower, on account of his Jacobite 
 sympathies, during the past two years, and had only 
 recently been set at liberty. The intimate friend of Pope 
 and Swift, he was himself a poet as well as a politician, 
 and a man of singular charm of manner. 'The invitation, 1 
 writes Mary, ' was very agreeable to me, and thought too 
 advantageous by my father and mother to be refused. 
 My father accompanied me himself, and delivered me 
 into Lord Lansdowne's hand, who received me with that 
 grace and fondness so peculiar to his politeness and good- 
 nature. Laura [Lady Lansdowne] x was at that time 
 about twenty-seven years of age, very handsome, and 
 had behaved herself very well. I soon grew fond of her, 
 and was delighted with every mark of her favour, tho 1 
 the pleasure I received from my uncle's distinction of me 
 far exceeded it. There was at that time a great deal of 
 company in the house, and the design of going to Bath 
 was put off till the spring. We danced every night, and 
 had a good band of music in the house. Lord Lans- 
 downe was magnificent in his nature, and valued no 
 expense that would gratify it, which in the end hurt him 
 and his family extremely. 
 
 ' I now thought my present state and future prospects 
 as happy as this world could make them. My father 
 
 1 Widow of Thomas Thynne, and daughter of the first Earl Jersey. 
 Her son, Lord Weymouth, inherited Longleat. 
 
 11 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 had thoughts of returning home, well pleased at my 
 being in such favour, but discontented with my uncle's 
 treatment of himself, which was not what he expected. 
 He told him that now he should lessen his income, 
 supposing that by this time he had fallen into a method 
 of living in the country, and did not want so large 
 an income as at first setting out. Alcander reminded 
 him at the same time how kind he was to his children. 
 These were truths, but harsh to a generous and grateful 
 mind, such as my father's was. The day before he left 
 Lord Lansdowne's house my father opened his mind to 
 me, and I afterwards wished I had returned with him 
 that I might, by tender duty and affection, show him 
 that I preferred his house and company to all flattering 
 views that were laid before me — but it was his pleasure 
 that I should stay. My two aunts soon grew jealous of 
 the great favour shown to me by my uncle, and would 
 never suffer me to spend an hour with him alone, which 
 mortified me extremely ; for tho 1 I did not pretend to 
 much penetration or judgment, I soon found their 
 conversation much less instructive, as well as much less 
 entertaining, than his. I had been brought up to love 
 reading, they never read at all. Alcander delighted in 
 making me read to him, which I did every day, till 
 the ladies grew angry at my being so much with my 
 uncle. 
 
 ' About this time there came on a visit to Alcander 
 an old friend and countryman of his, Gromio [Mr. 
 Pendarves of Roscrow, Cornwall]. When he arrived we 
 were at dinner; he sent in his name, upon which 
 Alcander rose from table overjoyed, and insisted on 
 his coming in to dinner. I expected to have seen some- 
 body with the appearance of a gentleman, when the 
 12 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 poor old dripping, almost drowned Gromio was brought 
 into the room, like Hob out of the well. His wig, his 
 coat, his dirty boots, his large unwieldy person, and his 
 crimson countenance were all subjects of great mirth 
 and observation to me. I diverted myself at his ex- 
 pense for several days, and was well assisted by a young 
 gentleman, brother to Laura, who had wit and malice. 
 Gromio soon changed his first design of going away 
 next day. The occasion of his coming was, it was stated, 
 a quarrel he had had with a gentleman who had married 
 his niece. Gromio offered to settle upon him his whole 
 estate, provided he would, after his (Gromio's) death, 
 take his name. Bassanio [Francis Bassett], proud of 
 his family, refused to comply, upon which Gromio deter- 
 mined to dispose of his estate, and settle quietly for the 
 rest of his life in the country. In order to execute this 
 design he was going to London, and passing near 
 Alcander's house, heard that the family were in the 
 country, which determined him to make his journey 
 one day longer by calling there. 
 
 ' He talked of going every day, but still stayed on, 
 and I, to my great sorrow, was after some time convinced 
 that I was the cause of this delay ; his behaviour was 
 too remarkable for me not to observe it, and I could 
 easily perceive that I was the only person in the family 
 that did not approve of it. Gromio was then nearly 
 sixty, and I seventeen years of age. You may readily 
 believe I was not pleased with what I suspected. I 
 formed an invincible aversion to him, and everything he 
 said or did by way of obliging me increased that aversion. 
 I thought him ugly and disagreeable. He was fat, much 
 afflicted with gout, and often sat in a sullen mood, which 
 I conclude was from the gloominess of his temper. I 
 
 13 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 knew that of all men living my uncle had the greatest 
 opinion of and esteem for him, and I dreaded his making 
 a proposal of marriage, as I knew it would be accepted. 
 In order to prevent it I did not in the least disguise my 
 great dislike to him. I behaved myself not only with 
 indifference, but with rudeness ; when I dressed I con- 
 sidered what would become me least ; if he came into the 
 room when I was alone I instantly left it, and took care 
 to let him see I quitted it because he came there. I was 
 often chid by my aunts for this behaviour. I told them 
 plainly he was odious to me, in hopes they would have 
 had good nature enough to have prevented what I saw ; 
 but Laura called me childish, ignorant, and silly, and 
 said that if I did not know what was for my own interest 
 my friends must judge for me. 
 
 'Gromio was some time debating with himself whether he 
 should declare his sentiments for me or not, conscious of 
 the great disparity of years, and often staggered, as he 
 told me afterwards, by my behaviour, but at last a violent 
 fit of jealousy, raised by Vilarios' [Mr. Villiers] gallantry 
 towards me, which I only took for very undesigning 
 merriment, made him resolve to address himself to 
 Alcander, and make such proposals as he thought 
 might gain his consent. Lord Lansdowne, rejoiced at the 
 opportunity of securing to his interest by such an alliance 
 one of some consequence in his country, whose services 
 he at that time wanted, readily embraced the offer, and 
 engaged for my compliance ; he might have said obedience, 
 for I was not entreated but commanded. One night, at 
 one of our concerts, all the company (I suppose by agree- 
 ment) went into the room where the music was performed. 
 I got up to follow them, but my uncle called me back, 
 and desired I would bear him company, for he was lame, 
 14 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and could not walk into the next room. My spirits fore- 
 bode what he was about to say, and when he bade me 
 shut the door, I turned as pale as death. He took me 
 by the hand, and after a very pathetic speech of his love 
 and care of me, of my father's unhappy circumstances, my 
 own want of fortune, and the little prospect I had of 
 being happy if I disobliged those friends who were 
 desirous of serving me, he told me of Gromio 1 s passion 
 for me, and his offer of settling his whole estate upon me. 
 He then, with great art and eloquence, told me all his 
 good qualities and vast merit, and how despicable I should 
 be if I could refuse him because he was not young and 
 handsome ; and that if I did refuse him, he should con- 
 clude that my inclinations were engaged to Roberto, a 
 name that I had not .heard nor thought of for above half 
 a year — a name that had never before given me much 
 disturbance, though now it added to my distress. 
 
 ' How can I describe to you, dear friend, the cruel agita- 
 tion of my mind ! Whilst my uncle talked to me, I did 
 not once interrupt him : surprise, tender concern for my 
 father, a consciousness of my own little merit, and the 
 great abhorrence I had to Gromio, raised such a confu- 
 sion of thoughts in my mind that it deprived me of 
 the power of utterance, and after some moments 1 silence I 
 burst into tears. Alcander grew warm upon this mark 
 of my distress, and said, " I see, madam, you are not to 
 be gained by merit ; and if Roberto is the obstacle to my 
 friend's happiness, and he ever dares to come to this 
 house, I will have him dragged through the horse-pond. 11 
 Such an expression from a man of my uncle's politeness 
 made me tremble, for it plainly showed me how resolute 
 and determined he was, and how vain it would be for me 
 to urge any reason against his resolution. With great 
 
 15 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 difficulty I said I was so sensible of his goodness to me, 
 and of the gratitude I owed him, that I would submit to 
 his demands, but must beg leave at that time to retire, 
 and that he would excuse my appearing any more that 
 evening. He gave me my liberty, and by a back way I 
 avoided the company, and went to my own apartment, 
 locked myself up in my closet, where I wept bitterly for 
 two hours. Several messengers came to the door to call 
 me, and at last my uncle sent me word he absolutely 
 insisted on my coming to supper. Nothing could be at 
 that time more vexatious to me, but I proposed one con- 
 solation, which was that Gromio and the rest of the 
 family should see how unacceptable the proposal that had 
 been made to me that afternoon was. 
 
 ' I shall not disguise my thoughts, or soften any part of 
 my behaviour, which, I fear, was not altogether j ustifiable, 
 and which, though your judgment will condemn, your 
 indulgence and partiality will find some excuse for. I 
 thought that if I could convince Gromio of the great 
 dislike I had to him, that he would not persist, but I was 
 disappointed in that view. I had nobody to advise with ; 
 every one of the family had persuaded themselves that this 
 would be an advantageous match for me, no one con- 
 sidered the sentiments of my heart. To be settled in the 
 world, and ease my friends of my expense and care, they 
 urged that it was my duty to submit, and that I ought to 
 sacrifice everything to that one point. I acted as they 
 wished me to do, and for fear of their reproaches made 
 myself miserable : my chief motive, I may say, was the 
 fear of my father and mother suffering if I disobliged 
 Alcander. I then recollected the conversation I had 
 with my father the day before he left us. I considered 
 that my being provided for would be a great satisfaction 
 16 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to him, and might be the means of establishing a good 
 understanding between the brothers ; that if I showed 
 the least reluctance my father and mother would never 
 consent to the match, and that would inevitably expose 
 them as well as myself to Alcander's resentment. These 
 considerations gave me courage, and kept up my 
 resolution.' 
 
 17 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 (1717-1724) 
 
 As soon as Mary's consent had been wrung from her, her 
 uncle sent to invite her parents to the wedding, and 
 directly they arrived the ceremony took place. ' I was 
 married with great pomp? she writes. ' Never was one 
 dressed out in gayer colours, and when I was led to 
 the altar, I wished from my soul I had been led, as 
 Iphigenia was, to be sacrificed. I was sacrificed. I lost 
 not life, indeed, but all that makes life desirable — joy and 
 peace of mind ; but although it was plain to all the 
 witnesses of this sad scene how much I suffered in it, no 
 one showed any sensibility of it, except my father and 
 mother, the only persons from whom I wished to hide my 
 distress. They persuaded themselves, however, that my 
 great trouble arose from the thought of leaving so many 
 friends, and not from the dislike I had to Gromio, which 
 gave me a happy opportunity of relieving my oppressed 
 heart. I stayed about two months at Alcander's after I 
 was married, and Gromio showed me all the respect and 
 tenderness he was capable of, and I returned it with all 
 the complacency I was mistress of, and had he known 
 how much it cost me he must have thought himself 
 obliged by my behaviour. 
 
 'An incident occurred one day at dinner that discon- 
 certed me a good deal. A gentleman who came to 
 dinner said he had heard a very melancholy story of a 
 18 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 neighbour of his, for whom he had a great regard, and 
 after giving him a very extraordinary character, he said, 
 "Poor Roberto, he is struck with a dead palsy." I 
 blushed excessively, and felt a grateful compassion for a 
 man who had always expressed a very particular regard 
 for me. I could not help thinking I might perhaps have 
 been the unfortunate cause of his misfortune, as in truth 
 I was, though I did not know that till some years after 
 his death. I was then told by a lady, a great friend of his, 
 to whom he used to open his mind, that his mother's cruel 
 treatment of him, and absolute refusal of her consent for 
 his marrying me, affected him so deeply as to throw him 
 into the palsy. He lost the use of his speech, though 
 not of his senses, and when he strove to speak, he could 
 not utter above a word or two, but he used to write 
 perpetually, and I was the only subject of his pen. He 
 lived in this wretched state about a year after I was 
 married. When he was dead they found under his 
 pillow a piece of cut paper which he had stolen out of 
 my closet at the farm. 1 
 
 The day came at last when the young wife was to leave 
 all that she loved and valued, and go to a remote part of 
 the country with the husband whom she could only look 
 upon as her tyrant and her gaoler. Her one consolation 
 was that her eldest brother, Bernard, was allowed to 
 accompany her. 
 
 ' We were about a fortnight on the road, 1 she writes, 
 ' for Gromio being desirous of introducing me to all his 
 friends, we went to all that were in our way, instead of 
 going to an inn, which was very disagreeable to me, 
 who would much rather have hid myself in a cave than 
 have been exposed to the observation of anybody. I 
 met with great civility and flattery from all, but 
 
 19 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 received no satisfaction from anything but a few stolen 
 retired moments, to vent my grieved heart by my tears, 
 which I took great care should not be seen by Gromio, 
 for I wished to deceive him in that particular, and believe 
 I succeeded. . . . 
 
 ' You say I have omitted giving you his character ; 'tis 
 true I have not been very particular in it. I fear I am 
 not good at drawing characters, and that my prejudice is 
 too strong to admit of my doing him justice. His age 
 I have already told you ; as to his person, he was exces- 
 sively fat, of a brown complexion, negligent in his dress, 
 and took a vast quantity of snuff, which gave him a dirty 
 look. His eyes were small, black, lively, and sensible ; 
 he had an honest countenance, but altogether a person 
 rather disgusting than engaging. He was good-natured 
 and friendly, but so strong a party man [i.e. a Jacobite], 
 that he made himself many enemies, and was at one time 
 involved in such difficulties that it was great good luck that 
 he escaped being discovered. He was very sober for two 
 years after we married, but then he fell in with a set of 
 old acquaintances, a society famed for excess in wine, 
 and to his ruin and my misery was hardly ever sober. 
 This course of life soured his temper, which was naturally 
 good, and the days he did not drink were spent in a 
 gloomy, sullen way, which was infinitely worse to me 
 than his drinking, for I did not know how to please or 
 entertain him, and yet no one ever heard him say a cross 
 or snappish thing to me. . . . 
 
 ' When we arrived at Averno [Roscrow Castle] I was 
 indeed shocked. The castle is guarded with high walls 
 that entirely hide it from your view. When the gate of 
 the court was opened, and we walked in, the front of the 
 castle terrified me. It is built of ugly, coarse stone, old 
 20 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and mossy, and propt with two great stone buttresses, and 
 so it had been for threescore years. I was led into an old 
 hall that had scarcely any light belonging to it ; on the 
 left hand was a parlour, the floor of which was rotten in 
 places, and part of the ceiling broken down, and the 
 windows were placed so high that my hand did not come 
 near the bottom of them. Here my courage forsook me 
 at once, and I fell into a violent passion of crying, and 
 was forced to sit down some minutes to recover myself. 
 My behaviour, to be sure, shocked Gromio, and I was 
 sorry that I had not a greater command of myself; but 
 my prison appeared so dismal I could not bear the surprise, 
 not expecting to see so ruinous a place. -1 
 
 It may appear strange to modern eyes that the friends 
 and relations of Mary Granville, who really desired her 
 welfare, should have forced her into this most unnatural 
 marriage. But it must be remembered that in the early 
 part of the eighteenth century mariages de convenance 
 were as much the rule in England as they are in France 
 at the present day. Moreover, the fate of the poor 
 gentlewoman who failed to secure a husband was a melan- 
 choly one. The only profession open to her was that of 
 teaching, for which the chances were that her education 
 did not qualify her. Failing that, she was doomed to act 
 as waiting-woman to some great lady, or else to drag out 
 her days in a state of genteel pauperism, an undesired 
 burden upon her more prosperous relations. Lord Lans- 
 downe probably believed that he was doing the best thing 
 possible for his niece's future when he obtained for her a 
 well-to-do husband and a comfortable home. It was any- 
 thing but a sentimental age, and emotions were regarded 
 as luxuries that only the rich could afford to cultivate. 
 If Mary Granville had lived in the present day she would 
 
 21 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 probably have aired her woes in a problem novel, would 
 certainly have posed as a fcmmc incom prise, and might 
 even have consoled herself with the attentions of a younger 
 lover. As it was, the little eighteenth-century heroine, 
 realising that her marriage was an accomplished fact 
 which no amount of repining could alter, determined to 
 make the best of a bad business, devote herself to the 
 comfort of her gouty old lord, and get what little bright- 
 ness and pleasure she could out of her new surroundings. 
 
 The first few months of Mrs. Pendarves's married life 
 were spent in exploring the country on horseback with 
 her brother, in fitting up the old castle according to her 
 own fancy, and in receiving the neighbours, who flocked 
 to pay their compliments to the bride. Unfortunately, 
 any pleasure that Mary might have taken in her new 
 acquaintances was quickly checked by the discovery that 
 her husband was of a furiously jealous temperament. So 
 unreasoning were his suspicions that Mary declared she 
 would rather have seen a lion walk into the house than 
 any one whose person or address could alarm her husband. 
 
 Mr. Feudal-yes's jealousy was first aroused by the 
 attentions paid to Mary by his nephew, Mr. Basset ; but 
 in spite of his perturbation, he freely acknowledged that 
 he had nothing to charge her with, her behaviour being 
 all that he could desire. A more alarming incident was 
 a declaration of love from a young married man, who, in 
 consequence of having lost his fortune, was invited to 
 make a long stay at Roscrow. Mary, who could not 
 accuse herself of having given the slightest encouragement 
 to the guest, found herself placed in a cruel dilemma. 
 She dared not give her husband a hint of the young man's 
 conduct, and yet she knew that there could be no safety 
 for her as long as he remained in the house. The repulsed 
 22 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 lover seems to have contemplated suicide, for he asked 
 one of the servants for a pistol, and when told there was 
 none in the house looked very gloomy and discontented. 
 The servant warned his master, and Mr. Pendarves, who 
 fancied that the guest's despair was caused by his money 
 troubles, informed him that they were ' obliged to leave 
 home for some time,'' the accepted formula for politely 
 putting an end to the interminable visits of the period. 
 
 ' Gromio seemed very happy and well satisfied with my 
 behaviour,"' continues Mai'y, ' and if I showed no delight 
 in being in his company, I took care he should have no 
 reason to accuse me of preferring any other to it. I never 
 made any visits without him, and as he was often confined 
 with the gout, I always worked and read in his chamber. 
 My greatest pleasure was riding, but I never indulged 
 myself in that exercise unless he proposed it, and I must 
 do him the justice to say he was very obliging in his 
 behaviour to me. . . . 
 
 ' In this manner two years passed. I was happier in 
 the third ; business obliged Gromio to go to London, and 
 my father and mother and sister came to stay with me 
 in his absence. O happy year ! that made me some 
 amends for all I had suffered. My sister, though very 
 young, had now grown very conversable and entertaining, 
 and I took great delight in her company. We went to 
 every place in the country that was worth seeing; and 
 my father, whose family had been so long distinguished 
 and respected in that country, was much caressed by all 
 the neighbourhood, and had extraordinary civilities paid 
 him. . . . 
 
 'Gromio wrote to me by every post, and his affairs 
 obliging him to spend another year in London, he desired 
 me to come to him when my friends returned home. I 
 
 23 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 was I own, very well pleased at the thought of seeing 
 once more a place where I had been bred up, and those 
 friends who had had the care of me ; but those joys were 
 damped to so great a degree by one thought, that I should 
 have preferred banishment from all I loved to the enjoy- 
 ment of their company, since by doing that I could not 
 avoid the person who made my life miserable. 1 
 
 On arriving in town Mary found that her husband had 
 taken a house in what was even then a very unpleasant 
 part of Soho, and that he had invited his sister, an ill- 
 tempered, meddling woman, to make his house her home. 
 Worst of all, during his solitary life, Mr. Pendarves had 
 fallen into bad company, and had taken to drowning his 
 business worries in drink. ' Hitherto, 1 writes his wife, 
 ' I had lived in affluence, and had never known the want 
 of money. I was as prudent in the management of our 
 domestic affairs as I thought our circumstances required ; 
 in the country I had not the demands for money that 
 attended the life I was now engaged in, and I was so 
 well furnished with clothes and pocket-money by Lord 
 Lansdowne on my marriage that I had no notion of ever 
 wanting. I will not trouble you with my distresses on 
 that score ; Gromio's excuse to me was, " Bad tenants and 
 a cheating steward, 11 which I truly believe was the case, 
 though I had many hints given me by his old friends that 
 he had some very near relations to maintain. This was 
 the last misfortune I could have expected; I thought 
 myself at least secure of an easy fortune. Gromio, to 
 drown his cares, which were then very heavy on him, had 
 recourse to the society I have already mentioned ; he 
 never was at home but when the gout confined him, and 
 then I never left him. When he had the gout he could 
 never bear (even in the midst of winter) the least fire in 
 24 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 his room, and I have read three hours together to him, 
 trembling with cold all the time. He has often been 
 confined six weeks together ; as soon as he was able to 
 go abroad, he returned to his society, never came home 
 sober, and has frequently been led by two servants to bed 
 between six and seven o'clock in the morning. Unhappy 
 cruel state ! How many tears I have shed, and what 
 sorrow of heart I have felt ! ' 
 
 However, life in town was not altogether without its 
 compensations. Mary was warmly welcomed by her aunt, 
 Lady Stanley, and other relations, and soon found that 
 the doors of a very gay and brilliant society stood open 
 before her. In her letters to her sister she dwells only 
 on the brighter side of life, and we read of a visit to the 
 opera to hear the Astarte of Buononcini, upon whom the 
 young Duchess of Marlborough had lately settled five 
 hundred a year for life on condition that he would 
 compose no more for the ungrateful Academy ; of a 
 water-party to Richmond with Lady Harriet Harley, at 
 which they were entertained with excellent music, but 
 disappointed of the company of Mrs. Anastasia Robinson, 
 the beautiful singer, who was secretly married to Lord 
 Peterborough ; and of Mary's first masquerade, of which 
 she writes : ' I was very much pleased, and like it so well 
 that I hope one day to have the pleasure of going with 
 you to one. I met with no smart people, and it was 
 thin of company to what they used to be, but as it was 
 the first I was ever at I did not find any faults, but a great 
 deal of diversion.'' 
 
 Lord Lansdowne, for political reasons, had gone with 
 his family to France the year before the Pendarves came 
 to town. 'I was much disappointed at not finding 
 him, 1 writes Mary, ' for I loved him notwithstanding the 
 
 25 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 unhappy settlement he had made for me, and I hoped for 
 some redress from him. I at first lamented the absence 
 of Laura, from whose friendship I expected much consola- 
 tion, but I found her conduct since my leaving her had 
 been very indiscreet. I told you she was very handsome 
 and gay ; she loved admiration — a most dangerous dis- 
 position in an agreeable woman, and proved a most 
 ruinous one to Lady Lansdowne. The libertine manners 
 of France accomplished what her own nature was prone 
 to. No woman could less justify herself than she could. 
 Alcander, whom she married for love, had every agreeable 
 quality that could make a husband amiable, and was 
 worthy of the most constant affection. He was fond of 
 her to excess, generous to extravagance, allowing her the 
 command of all his fortune. He had learning and sense 
 far beyond her capacity, with the greatest politeness and 
 good-humour imaginable ; in a word, he was as fine and 
 finished a gentleman as in his own, or any other age, 
 ever adorned his country. Alcander, had he married a 
 woman of prudence, sense, and virtue, might have made a 
 shining figure in the world ; and Laura, had she married 
 a man of a resolute, arbitrary disposition, might have 
 made a decent wife ; but she was extravagant, and given 
 up to dissipation, and my uncle's open, unsuspecting 
 temper gave her full liberty to indulge the vanity of her 
 heart. I have been very particular in her character that 
 you may the more plainly see in the progress of this little 
 history the dangers I escaped from her example and 
 attempts upon me ; and when I considered the risks 
 I must have run under the conduct of such a woman, 
 I was thankful to Providence for my present situation, 
 and that reflection reconciled me more to it than all my 
 reasoning before could possibly do. 1 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves, as a new beauty, with an elderly 
 husband who neglected her for the bottle, soon found 
 herself exposed to the admiration and warm attentions of 
 the young men of fashion of the day. ' It was not my 
 turn, 1 she observes, ' to be pleased with such votaries, and 
 the apprehension of Gromio's jealousy kept me on my 
 guard, and by a dull, cold behaviour I soon gave them to 
 understand that they were to receive no encouragement 
 from me.' With all her prudence and caution, how- 
 ever, Mary found it a difficult task to avoid being com- 
 promised by her numerous admirers. The details of 
 these one-sided love affairs are not without interest, if 
 only because they are illustrative of the manners and 
 morals of society under George i. They prove, for one 
 thing, that the many passages in the novels of the period, 
 where the virtuous heroines find themselves involved in 
 delicate and dangerous situations through the treachery 
 of their admirers, are more true to life than has been 
 generally supposed. 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves's most determined lover was the 
 Hanoverian Ambassador, M. Fabrici, who figures in 
 the autobiography under the name of Germanico. 
 ' His figure,'' she writes, * was by no means agreeable, 
 his manner forward and assured, and his age placed 
 him among those that I could not imagine had any 
 gallantry in their head — but I was mistaken. He was 
 often in my company. The first time was at a ball 
 given by one of the Foreign Ministers (the Danish 
 Ambassador), where, unfortunately for me, he engaged 
 me to dance with him. That gave him a pretence for 
 talking to me whenever we afterwards met ; but as I did 
 not observe anything in his behaviour to me that could 
 give me offence, I behaved towards him with the same 
 
 27 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 indifference I did to my general acquaintance. He was 
 to give an entertainment of music and supper to some 
 relations and friends of mine, and he engaged them to 
 bring me with them. I consented, and at nine o'clock 
 we went. We were twelve in company, and nothing 
 could have been more gay and magnificent than the 
 music and supper. When we sat down to table it was 
 proposed we should sit a man and a woman ; it was my 
 place to sit at the lower end of the table, and Germanico 
 sat next me, but I soon wished for another neighbour. 
 He stared at me the whole night, and put me so much 
 out of countenance that I was ready to cry. He soon 
 checked all my pleasure in the entertainment. I showed 
 all the signs of discontent I could, inquired if my chair 
 was come, looked at my watch twenty times ; at last, 
 to my relief, the company broke up. I took a hood out 
 of my pocket to put on, and Germanico gave me a paper 
 which he said I had dropped. He led me to my chair, 
 squeezed my hand, and offered to kiss it, but I snatched 
 it from him with the highest resentment. I was greatly 
 offended with his impertinence, and heartily repented 
 of my supping there. I abhorred the wretch, and could 
 not forgive his presumption, but how was my detestation 
 increased a day or two after this odious supper, when, 
 sorting some papers I had in my pocket, I found a letter 
 from Germanico, with a passionate declaration of love ! 
 I threw it into the fire with the utmost indignation. 
 This was the paper he pretended I had dropped from my 
 pocket, which I took without the least suspicion." 
 
 In spite of the lady's systematic avoidance of him, the 
 
 ambassador was not discouraged. During a few weeks' 
 
 stay at Windsor Mrs. Pendarves was invited by Lady 
 
 Walsingham, the King's favourite, to tea in her apart- 
 
 28 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ments at the castle. Greatly to her distress she found 
 M. Fabrici among the guests, but she endeavoured to 
 show him by her cool behaviour that she had a thorough 
 contempt for him. The hostess invited Mrs. Pendarves 
 to meet her the next evening in the Little Park, to which 
 our heroine gladly agreed, having often wished for the 
 privilege of walking in the enclosure which the windows 
 of her lodgings overlooked. 
 
 The following evening at six o'clock Mrs. Pendarves 
 was informed by a servant that Lady Walsingham awaited 
 her in the Little Park. ' As soon as I got within the 
 gate, 1 she relates, ' the servant locked me in. I walked 
 up and down before the castle, expecting to find Lady 
 Walsingham in Queen Elizabeth's Walk, when, to my 
 surprise, I saw only Germanico ! I started back, with the 
 intent to return, but, recollecting that the gate was 
 locked, I stopped for some minutes. I soon apprehended 
 this was a plot of the audacious wretch's contrivance, and 
 a thousand fears crowded into my mind. However, I 
 thought it best to walk towards him with some confidence, 
 though I trembled so much that I could hardly keep my 
 feet. He came up to me, and threw himself upon his 
 knees, holding my petticoat, and begged I would forgive 
 the stratagem he had made use of for an opportunity of 
 declaring how miserable he was upon my account. I 
 grew so frightened and angry that I hardly heard what 
 he said, nor can I exactly recollect what I said to him. 
 He found it was vain for him to expect any favour from 
 me, but still he would not let me go. At last I was so 
 provoked that I assured him the king should be made 
 acquainted with his presumption ; that, if Lady Walsing- 
 ham would not do me that justice, I had friends that 
 would not have me insulted and persecuted in such a 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 manner; and that if he did not go instantly and 
 acquaint Lady Walsinghani of inv being there. I would 
 
 go up to the windows of the apartment where I knew the 
 king sat after dinner, and should not scruple oi making 
 my complaint to him aloud." 
 
 Mrs. Pendarvess distress and terror wore greatly in- 
 creased by the fact that the walk in which this cor. 
 tion took place was overlooked by the chamber window 
 at which her husband usually sat It was only by a happy 
 chance that Gromio did not see Fabriei on his k 
 holding Mary by her skirt. Fortunately the lover, 
 alarmed at her threats, asked her pardon for his bold- 
 ness, and entreated that she would not ruin him by com- 
 plaining of his conduct to the king. Mary replied that 
 if he would bring Lady Walsingham to her at once, and 
 never speak nor even bow to her again, she would refrain 
 from exposing him. Fabriei kept his word, ami they 
 never met but once after that dramatic interview in the 
 Little Park. 
 
 Shortly before this time Alary had suffer e d the g 
 sorrow ot' losing her father, to whom she had always Wen 
 devoted. Mrs. Granville and her daughter Anne left 
 Dockland after Colonel Granville's death, and settled at 
 Gloucester. Anne was now grown, writes her sister, *a 
 very reasonable and entertaining companion. She had a 
 lively genius, loved reading, and had an excellent memory. 
 I was surprised at her understanding, and the del 
 ot' her sentiments delighted me still more. From that 
 time I had perfect confidence in her. told her some of my 
 distresses, and found great consolation and relief by this 
 opening o\' my heart, and from her great tenderness and 
 friendship for me." 
 
 The return ol Lady Lsnsdowne from a long residence 
 30 
 
Mils. DELANY 
 
 in Paris brought a new danger ini<> ber niece's life. The 
 .•mill's beauty was uom do tin- decline, bui ber love of 
 admiration was as strong as ever, and ber Btay in Paris 
 had increased her taste lor e\i ia\ agance and dissipation. 
 'The company I met at ber house, 1 writes Mrs. Pendarves, 
 'were free, libertine people, and I was often shocked. I 
 once look courage, told ber my opinion, and what the 
 world said of her conduct, she carried H off with a 
 laugh, bui never forgave it, and from thai day made 
 
 use of all her ails lo draw me into a share in her 
 
 mi conduct. 1 
 
 The insl iiiineiil she chose for her purpose was Lord 
 ('Lire, who had lor s e lime heen her limnhle servant, 
 
 liui of whom she was now weary. An open profession of 
 his passion for her niece was treated b) Lad) Lansdowne 
 as an ezcellenl joke, but Mary expressed greal resent- 
 
 inenl at Urns being insulted in her aimfs house, and I'm 
 everal weeks avoided e\er\ pi ice u hell' she might be 
 
 likely to meel her admirer. One day, as she was sitting 
 lis her husband's bed ide, reading aloud i<> bim, a servanl 
 brought in a letter. It was from Lord Clare, and in it 
 •he deplored mj unhappy situation in being nurse to 
 an old man, and declared most passionately his admiration 
 
 for me, and Ihal he could I <;n 1 1 me heller lessons than 
 
 I found in the romances which I w.is so fond of reading, 
 
 and which made me so sh\ .mil reserved, so eruel and 
 
 baught) .' 
 
 By a lucky chance Mr. Pendarves had fallen asleep, 
 so thai Mary was able, unquestioned, i«> destroj the letter 
 which, to \irv intense indignation, she learnl had been 
 brought by one of Lad) Lansdowne's servants. TTiis 
 
 resolved her lo go no re to her aunt's house, hut. as 
 
 her avoidance of so near a relative had aroused her 
 
 SI 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 husband's suspicions, she thought it prudent to go one 
 day when she heard that Lady Lansdowne was indis- 
 posed. 'I found her alone,'' she relates, 'and took the 
 opportunity to reproach her for allowing Clario [Lord 
 Clare] to behave himself towards me' as he had done. 
 She laughed at my prudery, as she called it, and said 
 I was a fool. Immediately, Clario came in, and I rose to 
 be gone, upon which she ordered him to lock the doors, 
 which he did, and then pretended to be very humble and 
 respectful. I entreated Laura to let me go — all to no 
 purpose. She vowed I should not go till after supper, 
 sent away my coach, and kept me by violence. When I 
 found that there was to be a great deal of company I grew 
 more composed, but did not open my lips to speak one 
 word. Clario kept me in continual confusion all the 
 evening with his particular attention to me, though the 
 rest of the company were so much engaged with each 
 other they attended to nothing else, but had they ob- 
 served Clario it would not have offended them as it did 
 me ; their wonder would have been at my uneasiness, for 
 he was thought an Adonis by that set of ladies, but in 
 my eyes he was most despicable, and excessively vain of 
 his person. 
 
 'When supper was over the gaiety of the company 
 increased, and with it my uneasiness. They sung French 
 catches, which gave me unspeakable offence, and when 
 this was over, one of the ladies proposed that the same 
 party should meet at her house, and desired a day might 
 be fixed ; which was accordingly done, and agreed to by 
 everybody but me. I said I was engaged ; another day 
 was named, and I was still engaged; a third day was 
 named, and then I resolutely said I was engaged for as 
 many days as she could name, glad of the opportunity of 
 32 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 showing my detestation of so dangerous a society. Upon 
 this they immediately broke up, and we all wijftit to our 
 different homes. Clario, by the treachery of Laura, stole 
 a slight ring from me which I put off when I washed my 
 hands after supper. It gave me some vexation, not 
 knowing what boast or ill use he might make of it, but 
 from that time I saw no more of him, as he left England 
 in a few days. 1 
 
 At this period one of Mrs. Pendarves's chief pleasures 
 was to write long letters to her sister, in which she gives 
 minute details of the fashions and follies of town life. 
 ' When I am writing to you, 1 she says, ' I am so intent 
 upon the subject that I forget all things but yourself, 
 and by that means you can never fail of a long letter 
 from me, for I never grow weary; and when I have 
 finished my letter I am sorry to think the conversation is 
 broke off, for, imperfect as it is, it gives me more satis- 
 faction than any personal one that I meet with here. 
 Though so many hills and vales separate our bodies, 
 thought makes up in some measure for that misfortune, 
 and though my eyes are shut I can see my dearest sister 
 in my dreams.'' 
 
 In these confidential epistles we hear of the grand 
 doings at the wedding of my Lady Walpole (1724), 
 * Where the bride wore the handsomest and richest gold 
 and white stuff that ever I saw, a fine point head, and 
 brilliant earrings and cross. Everybody had favours that 
 went. They are silver gauze six bows, and eight of 
 narrow gold ribbon ; they cost a guinea apiece, and 
 eight hundred have already been disposed of. 1 Then 
 there is an account of the fine clothes that were worn 
 at the birthday, and of the marriage of the young widow, 
 Lady Sunderland, to Sir Richard Sutton, at which Mary 
 c 33 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 was present as one of the bride's most intimate friends. 
 'I hope she will be very happy, 1 she writes. 'I think 
 there is every appearance of her being so ; her house is 
 charmingly furnished with pictures, glass, tapestry, and 
 damask, all superfine of their kind.'' This sentence 
 comes rather oddly from the pen of the young wife 
 who had proved in her own person the fallacy of 
 the eighteenth-century doctrine that luxury necessarily 
 spells happiness for a woman. 
 
 In 1724 all the gaieties were put a stop to by the 
 sudden death of Mr. Pendarves. Mary could not honestly 
 affirm that she regretted her husband, but the manner of 
 his death gave her a violent shock. On returning from 
 a party one night she found that her husband, contrary 
 to his usual custom, had reached home before her. ' He 
 said many kind things, 1 she writes, ' on my having made 
 him a good wife, and wished he might live to reward me. 
 I never heard him say so much on that subject. 1 He also 
 expressed a desire to sign his will, saying that he should 
 feel happier when he had done so, but Mary, thinking 
 he was low, begged him to defer it until the morrow. 
 He slept very uneasily, drawing his breath with great 
 difficulty. At seven o'clock, as his wife put back the 
 curtain to get up, she was terrified to see that he was 
 quite black in the face. At first she thought him in 
 a fit, but presently it struck her that he was dead. 
 
 * I ran screaming out of my room, 1 she tells us, ' and 
 almost out of my senses. My servant sent for an old 
 lady, a friend of mine, Avho lived in the same street ; she 
 came immediately. Physicians and surgeons were sent 
 for, but too late — they judged he had been dead about 
 two hours. My friends were all sent to. Valeria insisted 
 on my going home with her, which I did, and which so 
 34 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 offended Laura that I think she never forgave it, but I 
 did not dare to trust her. I knew the wisdom and good- 
 ness of Sebastian [Sir John Stanley], and Valeria would be 
 the surest refuge I could fly to at a time when I might 
 be exposed to the insidious temptations and wicked arts 
 of the world. I was now to enter it again on a new 
 footino;.'' 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 (1724-1729) 
 
 After Mr. Pendarves's death it was discovered that so far 
 from having settled his whole estate upon his wife, as he 
 had promised, he had only left her a modest income of a 
 few hundreds a year. This alteration in her prospects 
 seems to have been regarded with absolute unconcern by 
 Mrs. Pendarves, who, except for a righteous horror of 
 debt, showed throughout her whole life a sublime in- 
 difference to the state of her exchequer. She contrived 
 always to adapt her needs to her income, and yet to hold 
 her own in the most brilliant society of her day. 
 
 The first months of widowhood were spent with Sir 
 John and Lady Stanley, either in town or at their country 
 villa at Northend. The period of mourning was scarcely 
 half over before more lovers appeared upon the scene. 
 The first of these was Mr. Henry Monk, a nephew of 
 Sir John's, who is described as a lively, good-humoured 
 young man, but uncultivated, with a moderate under- 
 standing, and no knowledge of the world. Sir John 
 supported his suit, much to the surprise and mortifica- 
 tion of his niece, for she was unable to understand how 
 suitability of fortune could make her uncle desire to see 
 her mated to so unsuitable a person. The declared suitor 
 was soon dismissed, but there was another, undeclared, 
 who was far more dangerous to the young widow's peace 
 36 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 of mind. This was Lord Baltimore, who, with his sister, 
 Mrs. Hyde, had been introduced to Mrs. Pendarves some 
 years before her husband's death, and had been numbered 
 among her most intimate friends. In the autobiography 
 Lord Baltimore, under the name of Herminius, is described 
 as ' a young man in great fashion at that time, very hand- 
 some, genteel, polite, and unaffected. . . . He behaved 
 with the greatest respect imaginable, and with so much 
 reserve that I had not the least suspicion of his having 
 any particular attachment to me, but I feared his grow- 
 ing particular, though from a different motive to what I 
 had feared it in others. I thought him more agreeable 
 than any one I had ever known, and consequently more 
 dangerous. ' 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves's widowhood had lasted only six months 
 when Lord Baltimore sent to know if she would allow 
 him to wait upon her. She could not refuse his request, 
 and ' Herminius ' continued very assiduous in his visits. 
 ' His manner, 1 she writes, ' gave me reason to believe that 
 he had a particular regard for me, and I confess I wished 
 it might be so ; and it gave me resolution absolutely to 
 refuse Henricus [Mr. Monk].' While this pseudo-court- 
 ship drifted on, Mary, whose heart was more engaged than 
 she cared to avow, writes to her sister in the best of 
 spirits, and gives an animated account of her thoughts, 
 occupations, and amusements. In November 1726 she 
 writes from Northend : 
 
 'To-morrow we shall go to London. We dine with 
 Sir John at Somerset House : at four o'clock in the after- 
 noon comes my lawyer and my tailor, two necessary 
 animals. Next morning I send for Mr. Woodfields to 
 alter my white tabby and my new clothes, and to take 
 my black velvet to make ; then comes Mr. Boreau to clip 
 
 37 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 my locks, then I dress to visit Lady Carteret, 1 then I come 
 home to dinner, then I drink coffee after dinner, then I 
 go to see my niece Bassett and Mrs. Livingstone, then 
 they reproach me, then I give them as good as thev bring, 
 then we are good friends again, then I come back, then 
 if it is a possible thing I will write to mamma, and then 
 sup and go to bed . . . Last Saturday I was at Camilla 
 with Lady Carteret. That morning I was entertained 
 with Cuzzoni. Oh, how charming ! How did I wish for 
 all I love to be with me at that instant ! My senses were 
 ravished with harmony. They say we shall have operas 
 in a fortnight, but I think Madame Sandoni and Faustina 
 are not agreed about their parts. . . .' 
 
 'Jan. 20, 1727. 
 
 4 This day dines here Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam and 
 the charming Faustina, who is the most agreeable creature 
 in the world, and we are to have our senses ravished by 
 her melodious voice. Oh, that you had wings ! Mrs. 
 Legh is transported with joy at living once more in 
 "dear London," and hearing Mr. Handel's operas per- 
 formed by Faustina, Cuzzoni, and Senesino. To add to 
 her joys some one has presented her with a pelican, crane, 
 and a little St. Anthony in wood. I design to get her a 
 pig, and send it by the porter, for a St. Anthony is 
 nothing without his pig ! , 
 
 The fascinating Herminius still continued his wooing 
 after rather an erratic fashion. We learn from the 
 autobiography that on one occasion he invited Mrs. 
 Pendarves to a party on the river. ' He said his 
 sister was ready to wait on me, and desired me to take 
 what company I pleased ; he had bespoke a barge 
 
 1 Lord Carteret was related to Mrs. Pendarves through his mother, 
 Lady Grace Granville, daughter of the first Earl of Bath. 
 
 38 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 of musick to attend us. The temptation was almost 
 irresistible, but I thought it not prudent, and refused all 
 his entreaties, at which he left me, disappointed and 
 chagrined, and instead of going on the water he went to 
 the tennis-court, where a ball struck him between the 
 eyes and knocked him down. All the company thought 
 him killed, and he was earned to his sister s house welter- 
 ing in his blood, but with some signs of life. His sister 
 sent me a letter to inform me of this, and to beg to see 
 me as soon as possible. The next day I went to town. 
 When I came to Charlotte's house, I found her drowned 
 in tears, and under the greatest apprehension for her 
 brother's life. He had lost so great a quantity of blood 
 that he was reduced to the lowest weakness. He said he 
 wished extremely to see me, and begged of me to go to 
 his bedside. I could not bring myself to do it, and was 
 resolute in my refusal, and poor Charlotte thought me 
 inhuman ; but I left her with a promise that if he 
 continued as ill the next day, and desired to see me, I 
 would not refuse him. At length his youth prevailed, 
 and he grew better. I avoided going to town, thinking 
 it sufficient to send and inquire after him. 
 
 i Soon after Herminius going out of town, I received a 
 letter from him to return me thanks for the concern I 
 had expressed in him, and to assure me that his recovery 
 was more owing to that than to the skill of his physicians, 
 and concluding with some warm expressions of his great 
 regard. I went to Tunbridge at the end of that season, 
 but heard nothing of him. At my return to town he 
 came to see me, and told me he was going to make a tour 
 abroad for three months, and had fitted up a little vessel 
 for that purpose ; that he had great lowness of spirits, 
 partly occasioned by his late accident at tennis, and some 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 vexation he had met with ; that before he left he had 
 a request to make to me, which, if I knew how great his 
 regard was for me, and how much his happiness depended 
 on it, I would not refuse him. He paused, and I was 
 in such confusion I could not say a word, nor could I 
 guess what this earnest request was to be. At last he 
 begged me to give him my picture in miniature to take 
 with him. I told him it could not be, I did not think it 
 right, and I hoped he would not be offended at my 
 refusing it. He looked vexed and disappointed, but 
 made me a thousand expressions of love and esteem. 
 
 ' So we parted, neither of us pleased with the other ; I 
 looked upon him as a flatterer, and was at a loss to know 
 what his intentions were.' 
 
 While this unsatisfactory romance lingered on, Mrs. 
 Pendarves kept up her sisterly correspondence in her usual 
 sprightly vein. From her journal-letters we learn that 
 Mary, always an enthusiast for good music, is a frequent 
 visitor to the opera, and that she divides her affections 
 between Cuzzoni and the Faustina, the latter being 
 described as 'the most delightful person in the world 
 except the Lord Mayor ! , In a letter written on 
 October 5, 1727, she writes, ' I was at Court last 
 Thursday morning, and the king asked me if I had been 
 in Cornwall, for he had not seen me for a great while. 
 The queen has on her petticoat for the Coronation 
 twenty-four thousand pounds' 1 worth of jewels. 1 
 
 In a letter dated ' the day after the Coronation, 1 a full 
 and particular description is given of that imposing cere- 
 mony. By dint of setting out at half-past four in the 
 morning, being squeezed nearly flat, and losing her cloak, 
 Mrs. Pendarves obtained a. good seat in Westminster 
 Hall, whence the procession started, and whither their 
 40 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 majesties returned to dine. 'The dresses of the ladies 
 were becoming, 1 she writes, * and most of them immensely 
 rich. Lady Delawar was one of the best figures ; the 
 Duchess of Queensberry depended so much upon her 
 native beauty that she despised all adornment, nor had 
 not one jewel, riband, or puff to set her off, but every- 
 body thought she did not appear to advantage. The 
 Duchess of Richmond pleased everybody : she looked easy 
 and genteel, with the utmost sweetness in her countenance. 
 In short, all the ladies, young and middle-aged, though 
 not handsome, looked agreeable and well. . . . 
 
 ' The queen never was so well liked : her clothes were 
 extravagantly fine, though they did not make show 
 enough for the occasion, but she walked gracefully, and 
 smiled on all as she passed by. . . . Princess Anne and 
 her two sisters held up the tip of the train ; they were 
 dressed in stiff bodices of silver tissue with diadems on 
 their heads, and purple mantles edged with ermine. 
 After those walked the Duchess of Dorset and Lady 
 Sussex, two ladies of the bedchamber in waiting ; then 
 the two finest figures of all the procession, Mrs. Herbert 
 and Mrs. Howard, the bedchamber women in waiting, in 
 gowns also, but so rich, so genteel, ! so perfectly well- 
 dressed, that any description must do them an injury. 
 
 ' I could hardly see the king, for he walked much under 
 his canopy. The room was finely illuminated ; there 
 were eighteen hundred candles besides those on the tables, 
 and all were lighted in three minutes by an invention of 
 Mr. Heidegger's. It was not disagreeable to be taken 
 note of by one's acquaintance when they appeared to so 
 much advantage, for everybody I knew came under the 
 place where I sat to offer me meat and drink, which was 
 drawn up from below into the galleries by baskets at the 
 
 41 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 end of a long string, which they filled with cold meat and 
 bread, sweetmeats, and wine. 1 
 
 The next grand piece of gaiety was the Lord Mayor's 
 feast to which the king and queen went in state. Mrs. 
 Pendarves and her party were bidden to dine at the Lady 
 Mayoress' own table, ' an honour not to be refused, and 
 indeed it was a very particular favour.'' ' Masquerades, 1 she 
 continues, 'are gone out of fashion, but there is to be a 
 barefaced entertainment in the shape of subscription 
 balls. 1 In spite of all her frivolities, Mary found time 
 to keep up her reading. At one period she is engaged 
 upon a long-forgotten tragedy of Lord Orrery's, at 
 another she is enjoying one of the interminable French 
 romances that formed the favourite reading of fine 
 ladies in the reign of George n. She, who through- 
 out her life showed a positive genius for friendship, is 
 charmed with a passage in St. Evremond to the effect 
 that friendship 'softens and mitigates old afflictions, 
 and raises good fortune to a double pitch of felicity. 
 Without the communication of a real friend, sorrow 
 would sink one to the lowest ebb, and pleasures lose half 
 their advantage. 1 Again she quotes with enthusiasm : 
 ' Epicurus declares it his opinion that wisdom among 
 all the ingredients of happiness has not a nobler, a richer, 
 or a more delightful one than friendship. I could hug 
 the old philosophers whenever I meet with a passage 
 that speaks my own sentiments. The book that has 
 obliged me with this sentence has no meaner person for its 
 author than Cicero, and the title is Tully of Moral Ends. 
 I have read but half yet, and though I quote Epicurus, I 
 at present have no vast opinion of him, but Cicero charms 
 me with his eloquence, and I am delighted to have that 
 sensual philosopher confuted in his false opinions. 1 
 42 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Pendarves regarded friendship and 
 philosophy as consolations which might in some degree 
 recompense her for the strange behaviour of her lover, 
 though judging from her letters her spirits were not as 
 yet much affected by his vacillation. She writes from 
 Northend in May 1728 : 
 
 ' Oh, the charming month of May — charming, charming 
 May. June succeeds May, and, please God, I will be with 
 you before the 1st of July. . . . Last week as we were 
 sauntering in the King's Road to take a little air, we met 
 Princess Amelia on her way to the Bath. She is carried 
 in a chair, not being able to bear the motion of a coach ; 
 our coach was very close to her, and she looked very 
 smiling and pretty, bowed to us all, and asked who we 
 were. I wish the Bath may do her good, for she has 
 lived a life of misery, and everybody commends her 
 temper. . . . Pray what cavaliers have you now at Glou- 
 cester ? My Lord Essex has lost his only son, but a new 
 match at Newmarket will dispel his grief. I doubt my 
 aunt is very bad, but she will not own it, nor do any one 
 thing she is ordered . . . London is so full of entertain- 
 ment that if I lived a polite life I should not have one 
 moment my own. There is to be four opera nights more, 
 and then adieu to harmony of that kind for ever and 
 ever. Next Wednesday the Duke of Norfolk gives a 
 masquerade ; everybody is to be extravagantly fine, and 
 to pull off their masks before they leave the house. . . . 
 
 ' I hope your waxworks will not leave Glos'ter till I 
 come, for I have had no opportunity of seeing it in 
 London, for you must know in London it is as bad as 
 incontinence to go out privately in a hackney-coach 
 betimes in the morning, and we are such sanctified souls 
 in this part of the world that 'tis insurmountable scandal 
 
 43 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to see a nudity. I find country innocence is not so soon 
 shocked. Perhaps Gloucester air may give me courage to 
 view the wonderful works of Nature ; but without banter- 
 ing, it is a sight I have long wanted to see, and am told 
 by everybody 'tis worth my curiosity.'' 
 
 The opera played a great part in Mrs. Pendarves's life, 
 and Mr. Handel was her idol. ' Yesterday I was at the 
 rehearsal of the new opera composed by Mr. Handel, 1 she 
 had written a few months earlier. ' I liked it extremely, 
 but the taste of the town is so depraved that nothing will 
 be approved of but burlesque. The Beggars' Opera 
 entirely triumphs over the Italian one. I have not yet 
 seen it, but everybody says it is very comical, and full of 
 humour ; the songs will soon be published, and I will send 
 them to you. . . . The opera will not survive after this 
 winter ; I wish I was a poet worthy the honour of writing 
 its elegy. I am certain, except some few, the English 
 have no real taste for musick ; for if they had, they could 
 not neglect an entertainment so perfect in its kind for a 
 parcel of ballad-singers. I am so peevish about it, that 
 I have no patience. M. Voltaire's Henriade is not yet 
 come out ; 'tis writ in French, which for your sake I am 
 sorry for. You may remember in his criticism on 
 Milton a passage he takes notice of, and finds great fault 
 with — of the allegory of Sin and Death — upon which my 
 Lord Hervey said of Voltaire, who has not the reputation 
 of being the best man in the world : 
 
 ' " So much confusion, so wicked, and so thin, 
 He seems at once a Chaos, Death and Sin." 
 
 ' He spoke it extempore.'' 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves was always a loyal subject, in spite of 
 the former Jacobite leanings of her family, and she 
 44 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 seldom failed to pay her duty at Court on the occasion of 
 a Royal birthday or other state ceremony. In March 
 1729 she writes : ' On Saturday, the 1st day of March, 
 it being the queen's birthday, I dressed myself in all 
 my best array, borrowed my Lady Sunderland's jewels, 
 and made a tearing show. I went with my Lady 
 Carteret and her two daughters. There was a vast 
 Court, and Lady Carteret got with some difficulty 
 to the circle, and after she had made her curtsey, 
 made me stand before her. The queen came up to her, 
 and thanked her for bringing me forward, and told 
 me she was obliged to me for my pretty clothes, and 
 admired my Lady Carteret's extremely. She told the 
 queen they were my fancy, and that I drew the pattern. 
 Her Majesty said she had heard that I could draw very 
 well (I can't think who could tell her such a story). She 
 took notice of my jewels; I told her they were my Lady 
 Sunderland's. " Oh," says she, " you were afraid I should 
 think Lord Selkirk gave them to you, but I believe he 
 only admires, for he will not be so free of his presents." 
 I think it is a great condescension after this to correspond 
 with a country girl ! 
 
 'At night sure nothing but the Coronation could 
 exceed the squeezing and the crowding that was there. 
 However, a little to compensate the fatigues I had under- 
 gone, it was my fortune to be thrown in the way of Lord 
 Baltimore, who very gallantly got me a seat, and sate down 
 beside me. His aunt, Lady Betty Lee, was opposite to 
 us. I asked him why he would not go and pay his duty 
 to her. " He hated to look at her," he said, " she was so 
 confoundedly ugly," and that he should be a happy man 
 were I as ugly. . . . 
 
 ' The Duchess of Queensberry, to the great amazement 
 
 45 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 of the admiring world, is forbid the Court only for being 
 solicitous in getting a subscription for Mr. Gay's sequel of 
 the Beggars' Opera, which the Court forbid being acted, 
 on account that it reflected on the Government. The 
 Duchess is a great friend of Gay's, and has thought him 
 much injured ; upon which, to make him some amends, 
 for he is poor, she promised to get a subscription for his 
 play if he would print it. She indiscreetly has urged the 
 king and queen in his behalf, and asked subscriptions in 
 the drawing-room, upon which she is forbid the Court, a 
 thing never heard of before to one of her rank ; one 
 might have imagined her beauty would have secured her 
 from such treatment. The Vice-Chamberlain went with 
 the message, and she returned the answer which I 
 have enclosed : 
 
 ' The Duchess of Queensberry is surprised and well 
 pleased that the king hath given her so agreeable a 
 command as to stay from Court, where she never came for 
 diversion, but to bestow a civility upon the king and 
 queen ; she hopes by so unprecedented an order as this 
 that the king will see so few as he wishes at his Court, 
 particularly such as dare to think or speak truth. I dare 
 not do otherwise, and would not have imagined that it 
 would not have been the very highest compliment I could 
 possibly pay the king to endeavour to support truth and 
 innocence in his house, particularly when the King and 
 queen both told me they had not read Mr. Gay's play. 
 I have certainly done right, then, to stand by my own 
 words rather than his grace of Grafton's, who hath neither 
 made use of truth, judgment, nor honour through this 
 whole affair, either for himself or his friends. 
 
 ' C. Queensberry.' 
 46 
 

MRS. DELANY 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves kept up a correspondence with her old 
 friend Sally Chapone, ne'e Kirkham, but Mrs. Chapone's 
 epistolary style was sometimes too pedantic to please the 
 simpler taste of her correspondent. Writing to Anne 
 Granville in March 1728, Mary observes : 
 
 ' Sally's letters are what I prize next to yours, but her 
 last was too crabbed to please me. She confounds me 
 with her ideas. I would much rather that she would 
 descend to the style that I am acquainted with, for I 
 cannot deny my ignorance, which is so great that I 
 do not comprehend her logic, and I really think she has 
 cramped her way of writing extremely. The beauty of 
 writing (in my opinion) consists in telling our sentiments 
 in an easy, natural way ; whatever expressions seem 
 laboured must disgust, unless they discourse on an 
 abstruse subject, and then it must be treated accord- 
 ingly. Without partiality to you, you have attained 
 that art in writing which alone makes it delightful ; 
 your sense is so intelligible that it is known at first 
 sight, whereas Sally's is in masquerade, and I must 
 examine the sentence more than once to find her out ; 
 but she has fallen into this way since her being the half 
 of a parson, for her letters used to please as well as 
 interest. . . . 
 
 'The Duchess of Queensberry is still the talk of the 
 town. She has great reason to regret her usage, but she 
 was provoking first, and her answer, though it shows 
 spirit, was not worded as her friends could have wished : 
 good manners ought to be observed to our equals, and 
 our superiors certainly have a right to it. My Lady 
 Hervey told her the other day that now she was banished 
 the Court had lost its chief ornament. The Duchess 
 replied, "I am entirely of your mind." It is thought 
 
 47 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 my Lady Hervey spoke to her with a sneer ; if so, her 
 grace's answer was a very good one. 1 
 
 'April 1st, 1729. 
 'Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam, after five-and-twenty 
 years of tolerable agreement, are going to be divorced. I 
 think if I could live five-and-twenty years with a man I 
 could live five hundred. Nobody knows why they part, 
 but they are peevish zoith one another ; 'tis monstrous to 
 think, with so many children all grown up to be men and 
 women, that they should expose themselves and their 
 children to the calumny of the world. As for the men, 
 the world is apt to forget their misconduct, but young 
 ladies, whose fate depends a good deal upon the conduct 
 of their parents, must suffer. It is injustice, but it is the 
 common way of speaking; who will venture on the 
 daughter when the mother has proved such a wife ? . . . 
 Fine encouragement this to wedlock. Shall I devote my 
 life, my heart, to a man, that after all my painful 
 services will be glad of an opportunity to quarrel with 
 me ? What security have I more than my neighbours to 
 defend me from such a fate ? I am frail, my temper is 
 apt to be provoked, and liberty of speech all womankind 
 has thought their privilege, and hard it is to be denied 
 what so long has been allowed our prerogative. The 
 greatest chance for avoiding such a misfortune will be 
 choosing a man of sense and judgment. But there's 
 the difficulty ; moneyed men are most of them covetous, 
 disagreeable wretches ; fine men, with titles and estates, 
 are coxcombs ; those of real merit are seldom to be 
 found.' 
 
 The young widow's thoughts were evidently running a 
 good deal on men and matrimony, for in a later letter she 
 48 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 says, after recommending her sister to read Madame de 
 Sevigne : ' You may take all my lovers amongst you, and 
 try what you can make out of them. Let me see, there 
 is first Don Diego, solemn and stately, and, if you will 
 take his own word, well read in all arts and sciences. 
 Passive obedience and non-resistance is his text, and the 
 doctrine that he will teach with vengeance. The next 
 is a deserter ; he can be of no use, he was a pretty 
 plaything enough, could sing and dance, but as he has 
 listed under another banner, I strike him out of my list. 
 Now, as to those others laid to my charge, I declare 
 myself not guilty. The first in quality is an Adonis 
 in person, but his mind, alas ! how idle, how vain ! 
 However, he would make a pretty show by a fair lady's 
 side in a fine berline, with six prancing Flanders mares ; 
 and as for his domestic behaviour, he would acquit 
 himself as well as most of his neighbours, but as that 
 won't satisfy me, I deliver him over to society ; perhaps 
 they will accept of him on his own terms. An alderman, 
 a councillor, and two or three more such odd animals, I 
 will send down in a bag together, and you may cast lots 
 for them ; they are not worth my wearing. They may 
 do well enough in the country, but they are as awkward 
 here as if I was to wear a commode.'' A commode was a 
 large head-dress, even then regarded as old-fashioned, 
 which raised the hair and the front part of the cap to a 
 great height. The line, 
 
 ' From under high commodes, with looks erect ' 
 
 appears in a poem of Lord Lansdowne's. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 (1729-1732) 
 
 It was in Christmas week of the year 1729 that the long 
 spun-out love affair with Lord Baltimore was brought to 
 an abrupt conclusion. It will be remembered that in the 
 last instalment of the autobiographical letters, it was 
 related how the lover, after an unsatisfactory interview 
 with his lady, had gone to sea in his yacht. He remained 
 away the greater part of the winter, and it was reported that 
 his boat had been wrecked, and all hands lost. ' He was 
 much lamented by everybody," 1 writes Mrs. Pendarves, with 
 her usual restraint, 'and I own I was not insensible on 
 the occasion. One night as I was at the drawing-room, 
 who should I see in the crowd but Herminius making his 
 way up to the circle. As soon as he had been noticed by 
 the king he came up to me : he looked dejected and ill, 
 which I attributed to the great fatigues he had undergone. 
 As soon as I could get a seat he came and sat down by 
 me, and expressed great satisfaction at seeing me again. 
 I felt in some confusion, and to disguise it rallied him on 
 his stratagem of giving out that he was cast away to try 
 how his friends would lament him. He answered it was 
 very indifferent to him what effect the report had on the 
 generality of the world : he wished he could know how 
 I had been affected on the occasion, for that was of more 
 consequence to him. I told him very honestly and artlessly 
 50 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 that I was much concerned, and felt great satisfaction at 
 seeing him safe returned. I had no sooner said the words 
 than I accused myself of having said too much, and was 
 in such confusion that I was glad to leave my place and 
 follow the lady with whom I came to Court, and who 
 proposed our going away. 
 
 ' As I did not frequent public places much, and my aunt, 
 I thought, would not approve of my seeing Herminius 
 often at home, we seldom met that year, and I was out 
 of town the greatest part of the summer and the winter 
 following. Towards the next spring I came to town 
 and settled in a house by myself. I found Valeria 
 in a very declining way, and my whole attention was 
 given up to her and my unfortunate younger brother, on 
 whose account I had been in distress some years. One 
 night Valeria thought herself better, and insisted on my 
 going to the opera. Herminius was there, and placed 
 himself behind me. He told me he wondered where I had 
 buried myself; he could neither see me at home nor 
 abroad, and that he had been miserable to see me ; that 
 since his opportunities were so few he could no longer 
 help declaring that he had been in love with me for five 
 years, during which I had kept him in such awe that he 
 had not courage to declare his love for me. I was in such 
 confusion I knew not what I saw or heard for some time, 
 but finding he was going on with the same subject I softly 
 begged that he would not interrupt my attention to the 
 opera, as if he had anything to say to me that was not 
 the proper place. He then asked if I should be at home 
 next day. I said I should. 
 
 ' I cannot say I listened much to the music, and I had 
 a secret satisfaction in thinking this affair would be 
 explained some way or other, and free me from the anxiety 
 
 51 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 of uncertainty. The next day he came punctually, very 
 much dressed, and in good spirits. I cannot recollect 
 minutely our conversation. It began with common talk 
 of news. Some marriage was named, and we both observed 
 how little probability of happiness there Avas in most of 
 the fashionable marriages where interest and not inclina- 
 tion was consulted. At last he said he was determined 
 never to marry unless he was well assured of the affection 
 of the person he married. My reply was, Can you have 
 a stronger proof, if a person is at her own disposal, than 
 her consenting to marry you ? He replied that was not 
 sufficient. I said he was unreasonable, upon which he 
 started up, and said, " I find, madam, this is a point on 
 which we shall never agree. 11 He looked piqued and 
 angry, made a low bow, and went away immediately, and 
 left me in such confusion that I could hardly recollect 
 what had past, nor can I to this hour — but from that 
 time till he was married zee never met.' 1 
 
 This account was written some ten years after the event, 
 but in a letter to Anne, dated Christmas Day 1729, Mary 
 gives a slight outline of the unfortunate ending of this 
 romance. She begins in an unusually sober vein with the 
 announcement that she has just returned from early 
 service at St. James's Chapel, and continues, ' As friend- 
 ship is next in degree to divine love, I don't know any 
 way I can employ an hour or two so well as in dedicating 
 of it to yourself who always inspire me with a reasonable 
 transport, and improve all my sentiments. There is great 
 satisfaction in endeavouring to do one's duty ; it gives 
 cheerfulness to the heart that nothing can equal, and 
 there is something so superior in that pleasure that when 
 anybody has once tasted the delights of a conscience void 
 of offence, 'tis surprising they should ever neglect so great 
 52 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 an advantage. I am frequently led to this reflection by 
 the disregard I too often meet with in conversation of 
 religion. It is treated entirely as priestcraft, and people 
 are so bewitched to their own loose way of thinking that 
 they avoid all occasions of being convinced of the error. 
 It grieves me to see the encouragement so frequently 
 given to vice, and no opportunity is lost of ridiculing 
 virtue. I am convinced a sincere and honest friendship 
 cultivated betimes would secure people from those sad 
 mistakes. How should I be laughed to scorn should this 
 letter fall into the hands of the fashionable ! I should be 
 called "canter," and you would be despised for having 
 such a correspondent. . . . 
 
 'Bas [Lord Baltimore] made me a visit on Monday. 
 Saturday last I went to the opera. He was there, and sat 
 behind me the first act, came again as soon as the opera 
 was done, and led me to my chair; talked in the old strain 
 of being unhappy, and that I was to answer for all his 
 flights and extravagance. I told him that was so large 
 a charge that I should be sorry to have it laid to my 
 account. I nettled him, and he me. However, on Monday 
 he came. When he came into the room I could not help 
 wishing his mind answerable to his person, for I never saw 
 him look so well. He sat down, and immediately asked 
 me if I did not think they were miserable people that 
 were strangers to love, but added, You are so great a 
 philosopher that I dread your answer. I told him as for 
 philosophy I did not pretend to it, but I endeavoured to 
 make my life easy by living according to reason, and that 
 my opinion of love was either that it made people very 
 miserable or very happy. He said it made him miserable. 
 "That, I suppose, my lord," said I, "proceeds from 
 yourself. Perhaps you place it on a wrong foundation. 11 
 
 53 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 He looked confounded, I thought, turned the discourse, 
 and went away immediately after. I must confess I could 
 not behave myself with indifference, and I am sure he 
 must perceive that what I had said affected me| I have 
 been in no public place since, as I shall not care to meet 
 him." 1 
 
 To return to the autobiographical narrative. ' The 
 vexation of mind I had laboured under for some time,"' 
 continues the writer, ' affected me to so great a degree that 
 I fell ill of a fever the very day that Herminius made me 
 that extraordinary visit. I was for some days in a great 
 deal of danger. During my long confinement, he never 
 once inquired after me. Before I was well my aunt died, 
 whose death was a most sensible affliction to me. Sir 
 John Stanley, whose tender friendship I must always 
 acknowledge, seemed to double his regard for me on our 
 mutual loss, and I endeavoured to pay him that respect 
 and gratitude so justly his due. As soon as I was able to 
 go abroad I went with him to his villa, Northend ; but 
 that so severely renewed my trouble, or rather added to 
 it, that I was not able to bear it. I then proposed to 
 a dear friend of mine, Silvia [Mrs. Donnellan], to take a 
 lodging at Richmond, the pleasantest village within ten 
 miles of London. 
 
 'She readily consented: we joined at the expense, and 
 our situation at Richmond was as pleasant as it could be. 
 Her good sense, her peculiar agreeable talent for con- 
 versation, our variety of works — reading, going on the 
 water, seeing all the fine places in the neighbourhood — 
 gave me a new turn of thinking, shook off the gloom, and 
 restored me to health. But as my spirits had not quite 
 recovered their usual vivacity, I readily complied with a 
 proposal she made in her turn of going with her to Ireland 
 54 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to see her friends — her sister being settled there in a very 
 splendid and agreeable way. I had heard of Herminius 1 s 
 engagement, and almost as soon of his marriage. As his 
 behaviour had given me some disquiet, I thought it best 
 to avoid meeting him for some time; but a too great 
 retirement from public places would have looked remark- 
 able, which determined me to go to Ireland with my 
 friend as soon as it was convenient for her to go, but the 
 real reason of my going was entirely locked within my 
 breast? 
 
 The letters to Anne quickly recover their former cheer- 
 ful and lively tone. Deeply affected as she had been by 
 the cruel and heartless manner in which she had been 
 treated, Mary determined to overcome her attachment to 
 the man who had trifled with her feelings as soon as she 
 was convinced that he was unworthy. In July of the 
 same year, 1730, Lord Baltimore, whose affairs were said 
 to be much involved, married Mary, the daughter of Sir 
 Theodore Janssen, a rich merchant. Perhaps, after all, 
 Mrs. Pendarves was fortunate in escaping from a man 
 whom George u. described as * my Lord Baltimore, who 
 thinks he understands everything, and understands nothing, 
 who wants to be well with both courts, and is well at 
 neither ; and, entre nous, is a little mad. 1 
 
 In the letters written between the final parting with 
 Lord Baltimore and the start for Ireland in September 
 1730, we hear much less than usual of operas, dances, and 
 other festivities ; but there are one or two interesting 
 allusions to John Wesley, to Hogarth the painter, 
 and to the literature with which Mrs. Pendarves was 
 endeavouring to distract her mind. In one letter she 
 explains her use of ' hard terms , by the fact that she has 
 latelv conversed, by the help of the inimitable Fontenelle, 
 
 55 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 with the planets. ' Nothing, 1 she declares, * ever was so 
 delightfully entertaining, as well as instructive, as the 
 Plurality of Worlds. What a charming place is the 
 moon ! But although I have formed a very advantageous 
 idea of that planet, I shall not envy its inhabitants when 
 I am with my own star — that presides over all my actions 
 and influences me to virtue. - ' 
 
 A letter, or rather a sermon in letter form, from John 
 Wesley to Mrs. Granville is included in the collection. 
 Wesley at this time was only eight-and-twenty, and was 
 not to begin his field-preaching until about seven years 
 later; but he had already adopted the peculiar phraseology 
 of Methodism, and certainly was not averse from preaching 
 on paper. For a period of four years he had corresponded 
 with Mrs. Pendarves and Anne Granville under the name 
 of Cyrus, Mary's pseudonym being Aspasia and Anne's 
 Selina. The letters seem to be merely the medium for 
 a mild kind of religious flirtation, and it is hard indeed 
 to believe that those signed Aspasia really were written by 
 the sprightly Mrs. Pendarves, though no doubt she was 
 versatile enough to be able to suit her own style to that 
 of her correspondent. On one occasion she asks Cyrus 
 whether he considers she would be wrong to go to a 
 concert of music on a Sunday evening. He replies, like 
 an augur of old, ' To judge Avhether any action be lawful 
 on the Sabbath or no, we are to consider whether it 
 advances the end for which the Sabbath was ordained. 
 What therefore tends to advance this end is lawful on 
 this day. What does not tend to advance this end is 
 not lawful on this day. 1 
 
 Later, he complains that he has been accused of being 
 too strict, and of laying burdens on himself and others 
 that are too heavy to be borne. Aspasia replies : ' The 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 imputation thrown on you is a most extraordinary 
 one. But such is the temper of the world, when you 
 have no vice to feed their spleen with, they will condemn 
 the highest virtue. O Cyrus, how noble a defence you 
 make ! and how you are adorned with the beauty of 
 holiness ! How ardently do I wish to be as resigned and 
 humble as yourself ! ' After this it is small wonder that 
 there was more of sentiment than of religion in some 
 of Cyrus's effusions, as, for instance, when he exclaims : 
 ' Should one who was as my own soul be torn from me, 
 it would be best for me. Surely if you were called first, 
 mine eyes ought not to overflow because all tears were 
 wiped away from yours ! But I much doubt whether 
 self-love would not be found too strong for a friendship 
 which even now I find to be less disinterested than I 
 hitherto imagined. . . . Tell me, Aspasia — tell me, Selina 
 — if it be a fault that my heart burns within me when I 
 reflect on the many marks of favour you have already 
 shown ? ' 
 
 John Wesley's biographer, Mr. Tyerman, evidently 
 thinks that if Mrs. Pendarves had not gone to Ireland 
 just at this time she might have married the leader of 
 Methodism instead of becoming the wife of the Dean of 
 Down. But the bustle of the journey and the complete 
 change of scene put poor Cyrus out of her head. She 
 tells ' Selina ' that she has really no time to write to him, 
 and only after all intercourse has ceased reproaches herself 
 somewhat perfunctorily for having neglected 'so extra- 
 ordinary a correspondent.'' 
 
 Another Mr. Wesley often alluded to at this time was 
 Richard Colley, who, having succeeded in 1728 to the 
 family estates, assumed the surname and arms of Wesley. 
 He was created Baron Mornington in 1746, and his 
 
 57 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 eldest son, Garrett, Mrs. Delany's godson, who was created 
 Viscount Wellesley of Dangan, and Earl of Mornington, 
 was the father of the great Duke of Wellington. 
 
 ' Last Friday, 1 writes Mrs. Pendarves, in the summer of 
 1731, 'I dined at Mr. Wesley's. After dinner I came 
 home to settle accounts and order the packing of my box ; 
 when that was done I returned to the company. The 
 young men, upon my going away, thought the company 
 was dispersed, and walked off, but we were very merry 
 without them. Mr. Percival, you know, can be very 
 entertaining, and so can Mr. Wesley. We romped and 
 played at little plays with the children till supper-time. 
 I never met with so delightful a man as my hero Mr. 
 Wesley — so much goodness, friendliness, and cheerfulness 
 joined. Miss Wesley is the finest girl I ever saw ; you 
 would have been charmed had you seen her mimic the 
 dancing of twenty people, I believe.' 
 
 In the same letter she writes : ' I am grown passionately 
 fond of Hogarth's painting, there is more sense in it than any 
 I have seen. I believe I wrote you word that Mr. Wesley's 
 family are drawn by him, and Mrs. Donnellan with them. 
 I have had the pleasure of seeing him paint the greater 
 part of it. He has altered his manner of painting since 
 you saw his pictures ; he finishes more a good deal. 
 I have released Lady Sunderland from her promise of 
 giving me her picture by Zincke, to have it done by 
 Hogarth. I think he takes a much greater likeness, 
 and that is what I shall value my friend's picture for, 
 more than the excellence of the painting. Hogarth has 
 promised to give me some instructions about drawing 
 that will be of great use — some rules of his own that he 
 says will improve me more in a day than a year's learning 
 in the common way. 1 
 58 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Although one lover had proved faithless, we hear of 
 others no less eligible who are more in earnest. In May 
 1731, Mary writes to her sister : ' Your account of Puzzle 
 [the nickname of a rejected lover] savours of madness. 
 I am glad his fortune is so good; 'tis a very handsome 
 maintenance for a single man. I think he has a good 
 deal of merit, and I protest solemnly I am extremely 
 sorry to give him any pain ; and had I any inclination to 
 marry, and a fortune double what I have, I would prefer 
 him to any man I know ; but to let you know seriously 
 that money without worth cannot tempt me, I have 
 refused my Lord Tyrconnel. Lady Carteret asked me 
 the other day if I would give her leave to proceed in it, 
 that she thought I should be very blameworthy to refuse 
 so vast a fortune, a title, and a good-natured man. All 
 that, I told her, was no temptation to me; he had the 
 character, very justly, of being silly, and I would not tie 
 myself to such a companion for an empire. She said 
 I was in the wrong. . . . 
 
 ' You have reason to dread the condition of an old 
 maiden. Don't run the hazard of it; depend upon it 
 all your resolutions will fail you when you come to that 
 peevish condition ; therefore, secure yourself. I will give 
 you a helping hand if in my power. 1 
 
 A few weeks later Mrs. Pendarves had rather a curious 
 encounter with her would-be suitor. 'I mentioned my 
 dining on Monday last at Mrs. Percivars,' she writes. 
 ' There was Capel Moore and Lady Mary, his wife. She 
 seems to be a good sort of woman, without any airs or 
 liveliness ; he was a little cogitabund or grave (for to tell 
 you the truth I do not well understand the meaning of 
 that hard word) till after dinner. He asked after you. 
 I reproached him with not meeting you, and making you 
 
 59 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 laugh, as you appointed him to do at the ridotto. After 
 drinking tea Capel proposed going on the water. We 
 accepted the offer, took up Mr. Wesley in our way, drove 
 to Whitehall Stairs, took the boat we liked best, and rowed 
 away very pleasantly — the water smooth, the sky serene, 
 the company good-humoured. Philomel [another name 
 for Mrs. Donnellan] was soon called upon to make use of 
 her sweet pipe, which she did. A boat with two ladies 
 and one gentleman was immediately attracted, and pursued 
 us. As soon as they were near enough for us to see 
 their faces, who should be beheld but the Duchess of 
 Ancaster, an old woman with her, and my Lord Tyrconncl. 
 I was not a little diverted at this interview, but much 
 more so when he opened his wise mouth, and told Mrs. 
 Donnellan hers was the finest water lammao-e he ever 
 heard, nay, the finest language he had ever heard by 
 land or water, and many more polite speeches. They 
 were in an open boat, ours was covered. It would have 
 diverted you to see how the wretch peeped to look at 
 us, which was no easy matter. My companion's voice 
 charmed them so much that they did not quit us till 
 she had sung several songs. Capel asked the duchess 
 to sing, which she, in a droll way, did very readily. At 
 last they agreed to sing a duetto out of the Beggars 
 Opera, but such caterwauling was never heard, and we 
 all laughed. 
 
 ' As we were returning home, and had parted with our 
 gallant company, they discovered water in the bottom of 
 the boat ; my feet were soaked quite through up to my 
 ankles, and my petticoats above half a yard sopped in 
 water. We began to think it was no joke, and ordered 
 the boatman to put in at the first stair. We landed at 
 a little island, where was one solitary house ; we knocked 
 60 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 at the door, and a clever-shaped young woman, dressed in 
 a white calico nightgown, with some difficulty admitted 
 us. We endeavoured to get another boat, none could be 
 had, so they mended up our crazy vessel and we ventured. 
 We arrived safe and sound at Whitehall Stairs at eleven 
 o 1 the clock.'' 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves's project of a visit to Dublin, where she 
 and Mrs. Donnellan were invited to stay with the latter's 
 sister, Mrs. Clayton, wife of the Bishop of Killala, was a 
 great undertaking in those days, and met with some 
 opposition from her family, but she held to her intention, 
 and in July 1731 we find her writing : ' I pick up by 
 degrees the things I shall want for my Irish expedition. 
 I have bought a gown and petticoat ; "'tis a very fine blue 
 satin, sprigged all over with white, and the petticoat 
 facings and endings broidered in the manner of a 
 trimming wove in the silk. This suit of clothes cost 
 me sixteen pounds ; and yesterday I bought a pink 
 damask for seven shillings a yard, the prettiest colour 
 I have ever seen for a nightgown. 1 
 
 In September the party set out, and on the 10th Mary 
 writes from Chester : ' Here we are weatherbound ; what 
 can I do so agreeable as write to my dearest sister. 
 The weather hitherto has been contrary to us, and we 
 are so cautious that we will not venture till it is more 
 settled. We have several of our acquaintance here 
 waiting for a passage also. Mr. Dubourg and his 
 wife, with our charming Philomel, Avhose conversa- 
 tion, you know, is not inferior to her voice. Our 
 spiritual guide takes abundance of care of us, and by 
 way of variety we have a pretty butterfly man now and 
 then. . . . We amuse ourselves with working, reading, 
 and walking, and in the evening play pool or picket. 
 
 61 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 We have secured places in the Pretty Betty. The best 
 cabin Mrs. Donnellan and I have taken, and are to pay 
 five guineas.' 
 
 The letter describing the voyage has apparently been 
 lost, but on September 22nd, Mrs. Pendarves writes 
 from Dublin : ' I hope by this time my dearest sister 
 has no more fears for me. My mama has received my 
 letter with an account of my voyage. I must do justice 
 to the good people I am living with, and give you a 
 notion of our ways. The Bishop of Killala and his lady, 
 you know, are agreeable, and never so much so as in their 
 own house, which is indeed magnifique, and they have 
 a heart answerable to their fortune. They received me 
 with real joy, which does not seem to allay by our being 
 longer together. The first day we came we were denied to 
 all but particular friends. You were much inquired after, 
 and heartily wished for. Alas! did I not join in that wish? 
 Sunday we went to church, and saw all company that 
 came, which was numerous, for Mrs. Clayton is extremely 
 liked, and visited by everybody. Yesterday we were at 
 the same sport, and this morning we are to go to the 
 Duchess of Dorset's to pay our court. So much for our 
 company, now for our habitation. Stephen's Green is 
 the name of the square where this house stands; the 
 front of it is like Devonshire House. The apartments 
 are handsome, and furnished with gold-coloured damask, 
 virtues, busts and pictures that the bishop brought 
 with him from Italy. A universal cheerfulness reigns in 
 the house. They keep a very handsome table, six dishes 
 of meat at dinner, and six plates at supper.' 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves went to Ireland, intending to stay six 
 months, and ended by staying eighteen. She seems 
 thoroughly to have appreciated the easy hospitality and 
 62 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 informal gaiety of Dublin society, and she made many 
 new friends, among them Dean Swift, with whom she 
 kept up a correspondence. It was on this visit that she 
 first learnt to know and respect Dr. Delany, whom she 
 afterwards married. ' The character he bore in the world, 1 
 she says in her autobiography, ' made me wish to be 
 acquainted with him. He was then married, lived in a 
 very agreeable manner, and reserved one day in the week 
 for his particular friends, among whom were those of the 
 best learning and genius in the kingdom. I thought 
 myself honoured by being admitted to such a set, and 
 Silvia and I never failed of making use of a privilege so 
 agreeable to both of us. By this means I grew intimate 
 with Dessario [Dr. Delany], and had an opportunity of 
 observing his many excellent qualities. His wit and 
 learning were to me his meanest praise ; the excellence of 
 his heart, his humanity, benevolence, charity, and gener- 
 osity, his tenderness, affection, and friendly zeal gave me 
 a higher opinion of him than any other man I had ever 
 conversed with, and made me take every opportunity 
 of conversing and corresponding with one from whom 
 I expected so much improvement.' 
 
 A few extracts from the letters written from Ireland 
 will give some idea of the social life in Dublin and the 
 provinces at that period : 
 
 ' Dublin, Sept. 26, 1731. 
 
 'Last Tuesday morning I was at the Castle, and we 
 went again in the evening. The apartment consists of 
 three rooms, not altogether so large as those at St. 
 James's, but of a very tolerable size. In the furthest 
 room there is placed a basset table, at which the Duchess 
 of Dorset sits down when she has received and made her 
 compliments to the company. It is very seldom any 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ladies sit down to basset, but quadrille parties are made 
 in the other rooms, and such idle ones as I saunter up 
 and down, or pick up some acquaintance to chat with, 
 just the same as at St. James's. There were several very 
 pretty women : the top beauty is Lady Ross, a sweet, 
 agreeable creature. ... As for the generality of people 
 that I meet here, they are much the same as in England 
 — a mixture of good and bad. There is a heartiness 
 among them that is more like Cornwall than any I have 
 known, and great sociableness. 1 
 
 'Oct. 4th. 
 
 ' The chief entertainment of this week was the review 
 on Friday. The park, justly called the Phoenix Park, 
 was the place of show. One regiment of horse and three 
 of foot, who all performed their parts well. The Duchess 
 of Dorset was there in great state, and all the beau monde 
 of Dublin. But I must not pass over in silence the 
 beauties of the park, which is a very large piece of 
 ground, very fine turf, agreeable prospects, and a delight- 
 ful wood ; indeed, I never saw a spot of ground more to 
 my taste — it is far beyond St. James's or Hyde Park. 
 Nobody's equipage outlooked ours except my Lord 
 Lieutenant's, but in every respect I must say Mrs. Clayton 
 outshines her neighbours, not that that is easily done 
 here, for people understand not only living well but 
 easily.' 
 
 ' October 9th. 
 
 ' I must say the environs of Dublin are delightful. 
 The town is bad enough, narrow streets and dirty-looking 
 houses, but some good ones scattered about; and, as for 
 St. Stephen's Green, I think it may be preferred justly to 
 any square in London, and it is a great deal larger than 
 Lincoln's Inn Fields. Yesterday, being the anniversary 
 64 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 of the king's coronation, we, like loyal subjects, went to 
 the Castle. There was a ball, very decently ordered, and 
 French dances in abundance. I danced three country 
 dances with Mr. Usher in a vast crowd ; after that we 
 were summoned to supper, where everything was prepared 
 with great magnificence. I have just begun an acquaint- 
 ance among the wits — Mrs. Grierson, Mrs. Sycon, and 
 Mrs. Pilkington; the latter is a friend of Dean Swift's, 
 and I hope among them I shall be able to pick up some 
 entertainment for you.'' 
 
 Of the three ladies here mentioned, the first, Mrs. 
 Grierson, was allowed to be an excellent scholar, not only 
 in Greek and Roman literature, but also in history, 
 divinity, philosophy, and mathematics. She edited 
 editions of Tacitus and Terence, and wrote several 
 English poems that were much admired in their day. 
 Mrs. Pilkington seems to have been a wit rather than 
 a scholar. She was a protegee of Swift's, who gave her 
 husband letters of introduction to Pope, Bolingbroke, and 
 others of his most distinguished London friends. But the 
 Pilkington pair turned out ill, and brought little credit 
 upon their patron. Mrs. Sycon was the original of the 
 * Psyche,' to whom Swift wrote the verses beginning : 
 
 ' At two afternoon, for our Psyche inquire, 
 Her tea-kettle 's on, and her smock 's at the fire : 
 So loitering, so active, so busy, so idle, 
 Which has she most need of, a spur or a bridle ? ' 
 
 Perhaps this acquaintance with the learned ladies is 
 responsible for the somewhat acrid tone of the following 
 extract: 'Would it were so, that I went ravaging and 
 slaying all odious men, as that would go near to clear 
 the world of that sort of animal ; you know I never had 
 e 65 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 a good opinion of them, and every day my dislike 
 strengthens ; some few I will except, but very Jew, they 
 have so despicable an opinion of women, and treat them 
 by their words and acts so ungenerously and inhumanly. 
 By my manner of inveighing, anybody less acquainted 
 with me than yourself would imagine I had very lately 
 received some very ill usage. No ! 'tis my general 
 observation on conversing with them : the minutest 
 indiscretion in a woman (though occasioned by them- 
 selves) never fails of being enlarged into a notorious 
 crime ; but men are to sin on without limitation or 
 blame ; a hard case, — not the restraint we are under, for 
 that I extremely approve of, but the unreasonable licence 
 tolerated in the men.' 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves gives an amusing description of one of 
 her partners at a ball, a gentleman who would certainly 
 have delighted the heart of Thackeray. After mentioning 
 three or four of the company, she proceeds : ' The rest of 
 the men are not worth naming, poor, dull wretches, very 
 ill-chosen, I am sure. I wanted my good partner, Mr. 
 Usher ; in his stead I had Captain Folliot, a man six foot 
 odd inches high, black, awkward, romping, and roaring. 
 I thought he would have shook my arms off and crushed 
 my toes to atoms ; every moment he did something 
 awkward, and as often asked " my ladyship's pardon." In 
 the midst of his furious dancing, when he was throwing 
 his arms about him outrageously, snap went something 
 that we all thought had been the main bone of his leg, 
 but it proved only a bone of his toe. Notwithstanding 
 which he fought upon his stumps, and would not spare me 
 one dance ; we began pegging it at eight, and continued 
 our sport till one without ceasing. 1 
 
 66 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 'March 7th, 1732. 
 
 ' ""lis fit in return for the account you give me of your 
 amusements that I let you know what we do here. Why, 
 on the first of March we went to Court in the morning, 
 heard a song of Dubourg's, and after that compliment 
 was over refreshed ourselves by dinner, and went again at 
 seven. The ball was in the old beef-eaters' 1 hall, a room 
 that holds seven hundred people seated; it was well it 
 did, for never did I behold a greater crowd. At eleven 
 the minuets were finished, and the duchess went to the 
 basset table. After an hour's playing the duke, duchess, 
 and nobility marched into the supper room, which was 
 the council chamber. In the midst of the room was 
 placed a holly-tree, illuminated by an hundred wax 
 tapers ; round it was placed all sorts of meats, fruit, and 
 sweetmeats. Servants waited next, and were encompassed 
 round by a table, to which the company came by turns to 
 take what they wanted. When the doors were first 
 opened, the hurly-burly is not to be described ; squealing, 
 shrieking, all sorts of noises, some ladies lost their lappets, 
 others were trod upon. Poor Lady San try almost lost 
 her breath in the struggle, and fanned herself for two 
 hours before she could recover herself enough to know if 
 she were alive or dead. I and my company were more 
 discreet than to go with the torrent : we staid till people 
 had satisfied their curiosity and hunger, and then took a 
 quiet view of \heJamous tree, which occasioned more rout 
 than it was worth.'' 
 
 In May the bishop's household removed to Killala 
 for the summer, and the letters describe the journey 
 thither, and the mode of life in rural Ireland. The first 
 stopping-place was Dangan, distant twenty miles from 
 
 67 
 
MRS. DEL ANY 
 
 Dublin, the house of Mr. Wesley, and from thence Mrs. 
 Pendarves writes : — 
 
 'May 27th, 1732. 
 ' We got to our journey's end about eight o'clock, and 
 were received with a hearty welcome. The house is very 
 large, handsome, and convenient ; the situation is not 
 pleasant, the country being flat. Mr. Wesley is making 
 great improvements of planting trees and making canals. 
 You know the good people so well that belong to this 
 place that there is no occasion to say how agreeable they 
 make their house. The sweet little girls remember you 
 and all your pretty ways. We live magnificently, and at 
 the same time without ceremony. There is a charming 
 large hall with an organ and harpsichord, where all the 
 company meet when they have a mind to be together, 
 and where music, draughts, dancing, shuttlecock, and 
 prayers take their turn. Our hours for eating are ten, 
 three, and ten again. I hope my dear sister will endeavour 
 to make herself and my mama easy at my staying so 
 much longer in Ireland, for I never had my health better 
 in my life. Sir John Stanley has been told I am going 
 to be married : I easily guessed the party though he did 
 not name him. It is very likely the same report may 
 meet your ears, therefore I give you notice that it is 
 altogether groundless.'' 
 
 The next stopping-place seems to have been Newton Gore, 
 where the whole party went fishing, and had a picnic meal 
 under the trees. ' We staid on the water till eight,"' writes 
 Mary, ' then went to a cabin, which is such a thing as this 
 thatched [a sketch is inserted]. It belongs to a gentleman 
 of fifteen hundred pounds a year, who spends most of his 
 time and fortune in this place. The situation is pretty, 
 68 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 but the house is worse than I have represented. He 
 keeps a man-cook, and has given entertainments of twenty 
 dishes of meat ! The people of this country don't seem 
 solicitous of having good dwellings, or more furniture 
 than is absolutely necessary — hardly so much — but they 
 make it up in eating and drinking. I have not seen less 
 than fourteen dishes of meat for dinner, and seven for 
 supper during my peregrinations ; and they not only treat 
 us at their houses magnificently, but, if we are to go to 
 an inn, they provide us with a basket crammed with good 
 things. No people can be more hospitable and obliging, 
 and there is not only great abundance, but great order 
 and neatness. . . . The country of Ireland has no fault 
 but want of inhabitants to cultivate it. The mountains 
 and noble lochs make a fine variety, but they cut down 
 all their avoocIs instead of preserving them. The roads 
 are much better in Ireland than in England, mostly 
 causeways, a little jumbling, but very safe. . . . The 
 poverty of the people as I have passed through the 
 country has made my heart ache. I never : aw greater 
 appearance of misery : they live in great extremes, either 
 profusely or wretchedly.' 
 
 By June 21st the party has arrived at Killala, ' a very 
 pretty spot of ground; the house old and indifferent 
 enough : the sea so near us that we can see it out of our 
 windows ; the garden, which is laid out entirely for our 
 use, is pretty, with a great many shady walks and forest 
 trees. . . . Last Sunday the bishop gave us a very good 
 sermon. Perhaps you think our cathedral a vulgar one, 
 and that we have an organ and choir; no, we have no 
 such popish doings — a good parish minister and bawling 
 of psalms is our method of proceeding. The church is 
 neat, but you would not dream it was a cathedral. . . . 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 We rise at eight, meet together at breakfast at ten, after 
 that sit down to work. Phil holds forth. " Zaide " enter- 
 tains us at present in French {Histoire Espagnole by M. 
 de Segrais), "'tis a pretty romance. How I love Belasine, 
 Alphonzo's mistress, and pity him, though his folly 
 wrought his destruction. We dine at three, set to work 
 again between five and six, walk out at eight, and come 
 home time enough to sit down to supper by ten. Very 
 pretty chat goes round till eleven, then prayers, and so 
 to bed. 1 
 
 ' Killala, August ISth. 
 1 The fair of Killala has added largely to our library — 
 Paresmus and Parismenos (by Thomas Creed), the Seven 
 Champions, Valentine and Orson, and various other delect- 
 able histories. . . . We had excellent sport at the fair. 
 About eleven o'clock Mrs. Clayton, well attended, in her 
 coach drawn by six flouncing Flanders mares, went on the 
 strand. Six heats the first race ; the second gave us 
 much more sport ; five horses put in, the last horse to 
 win, and every man rode his neighbour's horse, without 
 saddle, whip, or spur. Such holloing, kicking of legs, 
 sprawling of arms could not be seen without laughing 
 immoderately. In the afternoon chairs were placed before 
 the house, where we all took our places in great state, all 
 attired in our best apparel ; then dancing, singing, 
 grinning, accompanied with an excellent bagpipe, the 
 whole concluded with a ball, bonfire, and illumination. 
 Pray does your bishop promote such entertainments at 
 Gloster as ours does at Killala ? , 
 
 70 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 (1732-1734) 
 
 Killala was quitted in October, and a leisurely tour was 
 made back to Dublin. There is a gap of two months in 
 the correspondence, but in an unpublished letter, dated 
 January 13th, 1733, occurs an allusion to Dr. Delany which 
 is curious when considered by the light of after-events. 
 ' What do you mean by Mr. Clapton and false fire ? ' 
 demands Mrs. Pendarves. ' You never mentioned him 
 before to me. What was he, a lover of yours ? I fancy not, 
 for you seem to mention his being departed in a very cool 
 
 manner. Mr. Y has more sense than to expect more 
 
 favour from me than he has already found ; I have no 
 objection to his acquaintance or friendship, but I never 
 can or will go further, and if he does not think it worth 
 his while to converse with me on that footing he may go 
 hang himself. . . . Upon my word I think the spirit of 
 gallantry has taken its residence in and about Gloster. 
 The order of the stocking or hose, though, I think does 
 not sound so polite as the order of the garter. Think of 
 some prettier name to give it. . . . Last Sunday I went 
 to hear Doctor Delany preach, and was extremely pleased 
 with him. His sermon was on the duties of wives to 
 husbands, a subject of no great use to me at present. 
 He has an easy, pathetical manner of preaching that 
 pleases me mightily. 1 
 
 71 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 About the same time occur the first personal allusions 
 to Swift, with whom Mrs. Pendarves had struck up a 
 friendship, or more accurately, perhaps, an intellectual 
 flirtation such as the great man loved. On January 24th, 
 she writes : ' On Tuesday Phill and I dined at Dr. 
 Delany's ; there we met Miss Kelly, Lord Orrery, the 
 Dean of St. Patrick's, etc. Swift is a very odd companion 
 (if that expression is not too familiar for so great a 
 genius); he talks a great deal, and does not require 
 many answers ; he has infinite spirits, and says abundance 
 of good things in his common way of discourse. Miss 
 Kelly's beauty and good humour have gained an entire con- 
 quest over time, and I come in only a little by the by. 1 
 
 On February 6th, in another unpublished letter she 
 continues : ' I have done some very pretty things since I 
 last spoke my mind to you. On Wednesday last expired 
 the handsomest, agreeablest, best ordered assembly that 
 ever delighted the heart of beau or belle. It made its 
 exit with great honour, and was attended by persons of 
 the first rank, men of wit, and ladies of beauty. Sighs 
 and lamentations were not omitted, and I believe some 
 tears it cost. Like other things of value its worth was 
 not known till it breathed its last, and then its very 
 enemies confessed it was the most perfect thing of the 
 kind, and Mrs. Clayton has gained great honour by her 
 behaviour in her drawing-room, which was as proper as 
 could be. We were engaged on Thursday to go to Mrs. 
 Palliser's, a lady much in request in Dublin, sister to the 
 beauty, Miss Pennyfeather. We went at seven o'clock. 
 The design was to have one table at whist and another of 
 commerce, but the young people (among whom, though 
 unworthy, was placed your humble servant) thought 
 dancing a more lively entertainment. . . . We were eight 
 72 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 couple. Sir Thomas Pendergast and I began the ball. 
 We began at eight o'clock, and danced briskly till eleven, 
 then went to supper, began again at one, and ended at 
 three. . . . 
 
 ' I forgot to tell you that we dined last Thursday at 
 Doctor Delany's, where we met the Dean of St. Patrick's. 
 Miss Kelly was there, who is a great favourite of his; 
 and I am aiming a little at his favour, without great 
 hopes of success, for his smiles are not common. We are 
 to dine again at Dr. Delany's on Thursday next, which 
 is the day the Dean of St. Patrick's always spends there ; 
 my Lord Orrery is to be of the party. . . . On Sunday 
 we had a violent storm of wind, but were obliged to go 
 abroad to a christening, where we were pretty merry. 
 The Wesleys were there. Have you not read the poem 
 on Riches, and do you not think that the Man of Ross 
 suits Mr. Wesley, my hero ? I believe that you that do 
 not know him as well as I do will find some resemblance, 
 but I that have been in the way of hearing of all his 
 generous actions think the character points him out. 
 I have made acquaintance with men in Ireland that I 
 should be heartily glad to improve and cultivate a friend- 
 ship with had I an opportunity, but in all likelihood we 
 may never meet again. The Dean of St. Patrick's, whose 
 wit you are well read in, and whose conversation is enter- 
 taining and delightful. Doctor Delany is as agreeable a 
 companion as ever I met with, and one who condescends 
 to converse with women, and treat them like reasonable 
 creatures. Mr. Wesley you know, and my opinion of 
 him. These are the sort of men I find myself inclined to 
 like, and wish I had such a set in England. 
 
 ' Last night Miss Kelly, Donnellan, and I went to a 
 play-house, the first night of their acting. They opened 
 
 73 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 with Love for Love. I cannot say much in commenda- 
 tion of their performance. They made no blunders, and 
 their clothes were clean. 1 
 
 On February 20th she writes, a propos of her friendship 
 with Swift: ' I have given up the trial of skill with Kelly ; 
 her beauty and assiduity have distanced me, and I will 
 not attempt a second heat. At present she is disabled, 
 poor thing, for she is confined to her bed with a pleuratic 
 disorder, but the Dean attends at her bedside ; his heart 
 must be old and tough indeed if that does not conquer. 
 But Dr. Delany will make a more desirable friend, for he 
 has all the qualities requisite for friendship — zeal, tender- 
 ness, and application ; I believe you would like him be- 
 cause he is worthy. . . . The Dean of St. Patrick's is 
 writing a poem on poetry. Dr. Delany has seen what is 
 done of it ; he says 'tis like himself, but he gives us no 
 hopes of seeing it yet awhile. Mr. Pope, I find, has 
 undertaken to lash the age ; I believe he will be tired 
 before they are reformed. He says he will spare neither 
 friend nor foe, so declaring oneself for him will not save 
 us from a stroke.' 
 
 ' Dangan, April 5th. 
 
 'The day before we came out of town we dined at 
 Dr. Delany's, and met the usual company. The Dean of 
 St. Patrick's was there in very good humour; he calls 
 himself " my master" and corrects me when I speak bad 
 English, or do not pronounce my words distinctly. I 
 wish he lived in England ; I should not only have a great 
 deal of entertainment from him, but improvement.' 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves returned to London in May 1733. 
 
 Before proceeding with her own personal history we must 
 
 give some account of a little romance in which she was 
 
 mixed up, having played the dangerous part of match- 
 
 74 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 maker. In the autobiography she relates how, ' A little 
 before I made my visit to Ireland, young Tomasio [Lord 
 Weymouth] returned from his travels, being just of age. 
 He was son to Laura by her first husband, and heir to 
 great honours and a vast estate. I had been so used to 
 him from his infancy in Alcander's family that I looked 
 upon him as my younger brother. He was always very 
 fond of me, and being ten years younger than myself, I 
 used to give him advice upon all occasions, and he had an 
 entire confidence in me. We corresponded when he was 
 in France, and I often told him he must let me choose 
 him a wife, which he said I should. He had been married 
 in his minority to Lady Elizabeth Sackville, daughter of 
 the Duke of Dorset, but she died before his return from 
 his travels, so they never lived together. 
 
 'Laura's indiscretion and Alcander's indolence made 
 me fear they would not have a proper attention to him, 
 and if they had I know they had no power over him. He 
 was easily led by those he was fond of, but jealous and 
 obstinate when he thought any authority was usurped. 
 His behaviour towards me was very obliging, and I was 
 so far from losing his favour by any advice I took the 
 liberty of giving him, that at last I began to fear I had 
 gained it too far. I was not only related to the Baron 
 [Lord Carteret], but I had a particular intimacy with the 
 family, and with the Baron's daughters, who, though 
 much younger than me, were very fond of me, and I 
 loved them all very well, especially the second daughter 
 [Louisa Carteret]. As soon as I could judge of her 
 disposition, I wished that Tomasio might like her as well 
 as I did. She was very sensible, discreet, of a complying 
 temper, gentle, mild, and withal very lively. Tomasio 
 was good-natured and affectionate, liberal without distinc- 
 
 75 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 tion, warm in his temper, could not bear contradiction, 
 and had not discernment enough to be reasoned with. 
 This sort of disposition was hard to deal with, and 
 required all those qualities Louisa possessed in a high 
 degree. Her fortune was small, but she had been bred 
 up in magnificence, and knew how to spend a large one 
 gracefully, and manage it prudently. His fortune was very 
 large, but his good nature and want of resolution turned 
 his natural generosity into profuseness. 
 
 'This encouraged me to lay a train towards making 
 him propose to her, by commending her on all occasions, 
 and telling him everything I thought might prejudice 
 him in her favour; and he would often say, "Why do 
 you commend her so much ? " and he did not know if he 
 did marry why he should not choose me, for that he liked 
 me better than anybody. He said this in so blunt a 
 manner that it passed with me for a joke, till he repeated 
 it so often that I thought it time to let him see that I 
 had no view of engaging him for myself, and then without 
 disguise mentioned Louisa as the person in the world I 
 thought best fitted to make him happy. He did not 
 relish this proposal, and gave me no other answer but 
 that he must return to France before he settled, but that 
 he liked Louisa the best of the sisters. 
 
 ' While I was in Ireland it was reported and put in the 
 news that Tomasio had returned to England, and was 
 going to marry Louisa. I wrote to him immediately to 
 express my great joy at an alliance I had so much wished 
 for, and at the same time to the Baroness to know the 
 truth of the report, and she informed me there was 
 nothing in it. This was just before I left Ireland. I 
 found, on my coming to England, Tomasio was living 
 like a fine gentleman of the times. I was much grieved 
 76 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 about it, because if it continued he must be ruined in 
 every way. He was very glad to see me, as obliging as 
 usual, and pressed me extremely to make him a visit in the 
 country. I told him I was very ready to do it when he 
 had company there that was fit for me to keep. He 
 looked confused, and asked me what I meant ; upon which 
 I told him what I heard, and freely blamed his conduct, 
 and told him he could not be a happy man, nor make a 
 figure suitable to his birth and fortune till he married 
 some one equal to him in rank and condition ; that he 
 had a great deal of choice before him, and could not fail 
 if he would consult his reason and judgment. He looked 
 grave and thoughtful for some time, and then said, " I 
 know what you wish ; I received your letter from Ireland, 11 
 and left me abruptly. 
 
 ' A few days after he came to see me again, and said, 
 " I can tell you a piece of news that will surprise you : 
 Louisa is absolutely engaged — her father told me so this 
 morning. 11 I was extremely surprised, having had the 
 night before a great deal of conversation with the 
 Baroness, who engaged me as much as possible to pro- 
 mote this match with Tomasio, and I thought it strange 
 the Baron should not have acquainted her with this 
 engagement. He laughed at my surprise, and told me 
 she was engaged, it was true, but it was to him. I was 
 much pleased with the step he had taken, and congratu- 
 lated him on his prudent choice. The Baron and Baroness 
 were in the highest joy on this occasion. Laura's indis- 
 cretion made it absolutely necessary it should be kept a 
 secret. Laura liked Louisa very well, though she had an 
 inveterate dislike to the rest of the family, but Alcander 
 often wished it might be a match. So I was sworn to 
 silence till writings and clothes were ready, and then 
 
 77 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Tomasio went to his mother, and declared his intentions 
 in form, and she seemingly approved of it, so all prepara- 
 tions, magnificent on both sides, went on. 
 
 ' At my house the young people often met, and nothing 
 could be more gentle, amiable, and engaging than Louisa's 
 behaviour. She liked Tomasio very much, who was hand- 
 some, and, when he softened his manner, agreeable, though 
 she was not quite satisfied with his behaviour, which I 
 can't say had much of a lover in it, and often made me 
 very uneasy ; and, when I told him of it, he would turn it 
 into some compliment to me, which vexed me, and pre- 
 vented me saying as much as I should otherwise have 
 done, and I was willing to think it an awkward bashful- 
 ness which he always had when not quite at his ease. 
 But I knew his disposition so well, and Louisa's great 
 merit, that when once she was his wife I was sure he 
 would love and admire her.' 1 
 
 The majority of the letters for the year 1733 are 
 addressed to Dean Swift. They are, it will be noted, 
 more stilted and self-conscious in style than those that 
 were only intended for the eye of sister Anne. Moreover, 
 they are couched in the language of extravagant compli- 
 ment which seems to have been considered the correct 
 style for an intellectual correspondence between ladies 
 and gentlemen during the first half of the eighteenth 
 century. The following is the first letter addressed to 
 Swift, and is dated 
 
 'London, May 29th, 1733. 
 
 6 Sir, — You will find to your cost that a woman's pen, 
 when encouraged, is as bad as a woman's tongue ; blame 
 yourself, not me ; had I never known the pleasure of 
 receiving a letter from you I should not have persecuted 
 you now. I think (a little to justify this bold attack) 
 78 
 
- 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 that I am obliged by all the rules of civility to give you 
 an account of the letter you charged me with. I delivered 
 it into my Lord Bathursfs hands, and he read it before me. 
 . . . We talked of your vineyard : he seemed pleased with 
 every subject that related to you, and I was very ready to 
 indulge him that way. I did not forget to brag of your 
 favours to me : if you intended I should keep the secret, 
 I have spoiled all, for I have not an acquaintance of any 
 worth that I have not told how happy I have been in 
 your company. Everybody loves to be envied, and this is 
 the only way I have of raising people's envy ; I hope, sir, 
 you will forgive me, and let me know if I have behaved 
 myself right. . . . , 
 
 The next letters to the Dean are from Gloucester, 
 where Mary was spending the summer with her mother 
 and sister. 
 
 ' May I say without offending you,' she writes on July 
 21st, ' that I was overjoyed at the honour you did me in 
 answering my letter ? And do not call me formal when I 
 assure you that I think myself made happy by such a 
 distinction. It was stupidity in me not to let you know 
 where to address to me, but I do not repent of it ; I have 
 by that means tried your zeal, but I am afraid your good- 
 breeding more than your inclination procured me that 
 favour. I am resolved to be even with you for what you 
 say about my writing, and will henceforward write to you 
 as carelessly as I can ; and, if it is not legible, thank your- 
 self. I do not wonder at the envy of the ladies, when you 
 are pleased to speak of me with some regard : I give them 
 leave to exercise their malice on an occasion that does me 
 so much honour. I protest I am not afraid of you, and 
 would appear quite natural to you, in the hopes of your 
 
 79 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 rewarding my openness and sincerity by correcting what 
 you disapprove of; and, since I have not now an oppor- 
 tunity of receiving your favours of pinching and beating, 
 make me amends by chiding me for every word that is 
 -false-spelt and for my bad English. You see what you 
 are like to suffer. If this promises you too much trouble 
 do not give me so much encouragement in your next 
 letter, for upon something in your last I have almost per- 
 suaded myself that, by your assistance and my own most 
 earnest desire, I may in time become worthy of your care. 
 Vanity stands at my elbow all this while, and animates me 
 by a thousand agreeable promises : without her encourage- 
 ment I should never have presumed to correspond with the 
 Dean of St. Patrick's. You must not be angry with me 
 for keeping her company, for I had very little acquaintance 
 with her till I had received some marks of your favour. 
 ... I wish you could make your words good, and that I 
 xoas a sorceress ; I should then set all my charms to work 
 to bring you to England, and should expect a general 
 thanksgiving for employing my spells to so good a 
 purpose. . . . My Lord Lansdowne is much at your 
 service, laments the days that are past, and constantly 
 drinks your health in champagne as clear as your thoughts 
 and as sparkling as your wit. . . . 
 
 * I attended Lord and Lady Weymouth [the Tomasio 
 and Louisa of the autobiography] down to Longleat, and 
 left them with as much prospect of happiness as matri- 
 mony can give : they are pleased with one another at 
 present, and I hope that will continue. My Lord and 
 Lord Carteret are both satisfied with the disposal of their 
 daughter in so advantageous a station. Common report 
 wrongs my Lord Weymouth, for which reason, as I am 
 his friend, I must tell you his good qualities. He has 
 80 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 honour and good-nature, and does not want for sense ; he 
 loves the country, and inclines a little too much to his 
 stable and dog-kennel ; he keeps a very hospitable, good 
 house, and is always ready to relieve those in distress ; his 
 lady, Dr. Delany can give you a character of, and is what 
 I believe you will approve. . . . , 
 
 'Gloucester, Oct. 24th, 1733. 
 
 ' I cannot imagine how my Lord Orrery came by my 
 last letter to you. I believe my good genius conveyed it 
 into his hand to make it of more consequence to you. If 
 it had that effect, I wish this may meet with the same 
 fortune. If I were writing to a common correspondent I 
 should now make a fine flourish to excuse myself for not 
 sooner answering the favour of your letter ; but I must 
 deal plainly with you, sir, and tell you (now, do not be 
 angry) that the fear of tiring you stopped my hand. I 
 value your correspondence so highly that I think of every 
 way that may preserve it ; and one is not to be too 
 troublesome. Now, I cannot guess how you will take this 
 last paragraph, but if it makes me appear affected or 
 silly, I will endeavour not to offend in the same manner 
 again. Some mortification of that kind is wanting to 
 bring me to myself. Your ways of making compliments 
 are dangerous snares, and I do not know how to guard 
 against the pleasures they bring. To be remembered and 
 regretted by you are pleasures of a very delicate kind ; I 
 have been told that unexpected good fortune is harder to 
 bear than adversity. 
 
 'The cold weather, I suppose, has gathered together 
 Dr. Delany \s set. The next time you meet, may I beg the 
 favour to make my compliments acceptable ? I recollect 
 no entertainment with so much pleasure as what I received 
 from that company ; it has made me lament very sincerely 
 f 81 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 the many hours in my life that I have lost in insignificant 
 conversation. 
 
 ' A few days before I had your last letter my sister 
 and I made a visit to my Lord and Lady Bathurst at 
 Cirencester. Oakley Wood joins to his park, and the 
 grand avenue that goes from his house through the park 
 and wood is live miles long, and the whole contains five 
 thousand acres. Lord Bathurst 1 talks with great delight 
 of the pleasure you once gave him by surprising him in 
 his wood, and showed me the house where you lodged. It 
 has been rebuilt, for the day you left it it fell to the 
 ground ; conscious of the honour it had received by enter- 
 taining so illustrious a stranger, it burst with pride ! . . . 
 All the beau mondc flock to London to see her Royal High- 
 ness (the Princess Royal) disposed of ; but I prefer my duty 
 to my mother, and the conversation of a country girl (my 
 sister) to all the pomp and splendour of a court. Is this 
 virtue or is it stupidity ? It is a little unreasonable of 
 me to begin a fourth page, but it is a hard task to retire 
 from the company one likes best. — I am, sir, your most 
 obliged and faithful, humble servant, 
 
 'M. Pendarves. 1 
 
 Mary and her sister probably spent the greater part of 
 this year together, for the long, regular letters to Anne at 
 Gloucester do not begin again until December 1733. 
 In this month Mary is staying at Longleat with 
 the newly-married Lord and Lady Weymouth. In a 
 letter dated February 16th, 1734, there is an account of 
 the marriage of another daughter of Lady Carteret to 
 John Spencer, brother of the Duke of Marlborough. 
 
 ' They were married,' 1 writes Mrs. Pendarves, ' between 
 
 1 The first Earl, who was distinguished for his wit and learning. 
 
 82 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 eight and nine o 1 the clock at night. After they were 
 married they played a pool of commerce, supped at ten, 
 went to bed between twelve and one, and went to Windsor 
 Lodge the next day at noon. . . . Everybody at the wedding 
 was magnificent. Their clothes are now laid by for the 
 royal wedding, which will be about three weeks hence. 
 I have got my wedding garment ready ; 'tis a brocaded 
 lutestring, white ground, with great ramping flowers 
 in shades of purples, reds, and greens. I gave thirteen 
 shillings a yard ; it looks better than it describes, and 
 will make a show. I shall wear it with dark purple and 
 gold ribbon, and a black hood for decency's sake/ 
 
 In a letter dated March 16th, 1734, there is a description 
 of the royal wedding, or rather of the dresses that were 
 worn. ' The Princess of Orange's dress was the prettiest 
 thing that ever was seen — a corps de robe, that is, in plain 
 English, a stiff-bodied gown. The eight peers' daughters 
 that held up her train were in the same sort of dress — all 
 white and silver — with great quantities of jewels in their 
 hair, and long locks ; some of them were very pretty and 
 well-shaped — it is a most becoming dress. The princess 
 wore a mantua and petticoat, white damask with the 
 finest embroidery of rich embossed gold. On one side of 
 her head she had a green diamond of vast size, the shape 
 of a pear, and two pearls prodigiously large that were 
 fastened to wires, and hung loose in her hair; on the 
 other side small diamonds prettily disposed ; her earrings, 
 necklace, and bars to her stays all extravagantly fine, 
 presents of the Prince of Orange to her. . . . We went 
 at one to the drawing-room — such crowding, such finery 
 I never saw ; with great difficulty I made my curtsey, and 
 the queen commended my clothes. We got home to dinner 
 about five, and went to the ball at eight, were so squeezed 
 
 83 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 for half an hour that 'twas insupportable, but Lord 
 Baltimore permitted us to go up into the gallery; he 
 made way for us, and we were happily placed where we 
 could see everything.' 
 
 In April Mrs. Pendarves confides to her sister a pro- 
 posal of marriage that she had received, not it must be 
 confessed of a very romantic kind. The gentleman, a 
 middle-aged widower, named Prideaux, had paid her 
 some attention the summer before, and on meeting him 
 at tea at the house of a common friend, ' my mind,"' she 
 says, ' misgave me plaguely. I stayed about two hours ; 
 the man talked sensibly enough, described some part of 
 his house, particularly his library, which is a very large 
 one (I suppose what belonged to his father, Dr. Prideaux, 
 who wrote the Connection between the Old and New 
 Testament), talked of his pictures, his love of music, 
 and is a sort of performer (upon the fiddle) I believe. 1 
 The result of this meeting was that the accommodating 
 friend, a Mrs. Harris, called upon Mrs. Pendarves, and 
 explained that she * was desired by Mr. Prideaux to make 
 known his circumstances to me, and to beg leave he might 
 wait upon me. He is a widower, aged between forty and 
 fifty ; he has four sons that are at school, and are always 
 to be kept abroad, and one daughter nine years old. His 
 estate is between two and three thousand a year, twenty 
 thousand pounds of which is unsettled, and to be at my 
 disposal if I please. He lives for a constancy in the 
 country; his character is that of an honest gentleman 
 and a man of sense. Thus have I given you a true state 
 of the case, with what advantages it may appear to you 
 I know not, but it did not tempt me ! The five children, 
 without considering any other circumstance, determined 
 me to say " No. 1 ' I am afraid mama will think I was too 
 84 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 rash, but to tell you the truth, matrimony is so little to 
 my disposition, that I was glad to lay hold of a reasonable 
 excuse for not accepting the proposal, and I was as glad 
 to find he had five children as some people would have 
 been at hearing he had five thousand a year.'' 
 
 In the same letter is an allusion to a little musical 
 entertainment that Mrs. Pendarves had recently given 
 to some dozen of her music-loving friends. Among the 
 guests was the great Mr. Handel. ' I was never so well 
 entertained at an opera,'' she writes. ' Mr. Handel was in 
 the best humour in the world, and played lessons and 
 accompanied Strada and all the ladies that sung from 
 seven o'clock until eleven. I gave them tea and coffee, 
 and about half an hour after nine had a salver brought in 
 of chocolate, mulled white wine, and biscuits. Everybody 
 was easy and seemed pleased. 1 
 
 It is about this time that we find the first mention in 
 the letters of the Duchess of Portland, whose friendship 
 with Mrs. Pendarves was just beginning, a friendship that 
 was to remain close and unbroken for nearly half a cen- 
 tury. Lady Margaret Cavendish Harley, the daughter 
 and heiress of the second Lord Oxford, was married to 
 the second Duke of Portland in 1734. As a child she had 
 received the homage of Matthew Prior in the charming 
 lines beginning : 
 
 1 My noble, lovely, little Peggy, 
 Let this, my First Epistle, beg ye, 
 At dawn of morn and close of even, 
 To lift your heart and hands to heaven.' 
 
 The young duchess was a woman of unusual culture, 
 with a strong taste for art and natural science, and it was 
 perhaps owing to the stimulus of her friendship that we 
 find Mary working steadily at crayon-drawing, and, as 
 
 85 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 she herself phrased it, ' running wild after shells. 1 ' This 
 morning, 1 she writes on June 7th, 1734, ' I have set my 
 little collection of shells in nice order in my cabinet, and 
 they look so beautiful that I must by some means enlarge 
 my stock ; the beauties of shells are as infinite as of flowers, 
 and to consider how they are inhabited enlarges a field of 
 wonder that leads one insensibly to the great Director and 
 Author of these wonders. How surprising is it to observe 
 the indifference, nay (more properly) stupidity of mankind, 
 that seem to make no reflection as they live, are pleased 
 with what they meet with because it has beautiful colours 
 or an agreeable sound; there they stop and receive but 
 little more pleasure from them than a horse or a dog. . . . 
 I am delighted with your bee-flower, and have told my 
 Lady Sunderland of it, who will search her garden library 
 to find it out, and if it thrives with you, shall be very 
 thankful for some of the seed. You think, madam, that 
 I have no garden, perhaps, but thafs a mistake. I 
 have one as big as your parlour at Gloucester, and in it 
 groweth damask roses, stocks, variegated and plain, pinks, 
 phalaria, some dead and some alive, and honeysuckles 
 that never blow. ... I have sent you some books of 
 music, a dormouse pattern, and a little musk and lavender 
 water for mama.' 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 (1734-1736) 
 
 In September 1734 Mrs. Pendarves writes a reproachful 
 letter to Dean Swift, after a twelvemonth gap in their 
 correspondence. 
 
 'I find, 1 she says, 'your correspondence is like the 
 singing of the nightingale — no bird sings so sweetly, 
 but the pleasure is quickly past; a month or two of 
 harmony, and then we lose it till next spring. I wish 
 your favours may as certainly return. I am at this 
 moment not only deprived of your letters, but of all other 
 means of inquiring after your health, your friends and 
 my correspondents being dispersed to their summer 
 quarters. The last letter I writ to you was from Glou- 
 cester, about a twelvemonth ago ; after that I went to 
 Longleat to my Lady Weymouth; came to town in 
 January, where I have remained ever since, except a few 
 weeks at Sir John Stanley's at Northend. . . . Mrs. 
 Donnellan sometimes talks of making a winter's visit to 
 Dublin, and has vanity enough to think you are one of 
 those that will treat her kindly. Her loss will to me 
 be irreparable, besides the mortification it will be to me 
 to have her go to a place where I should so gladly accom- 
 pany her. . . . After having forced myself into your 
 company, it will be impertinent to make you a longer 
 visit, and to destroy the intention of it, which was to 
 assure you of my being, sir, your most faithful and 
 obliged servant, M. Pendarves."' 
 
 87 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 This gentle reminder brought, a month later, the follow- 
 ing long and interesting epistle from the repentant dean : 
 
 ' When I received the honour and happiness of your 
 last letter I was afflicted with a pair of disorders that usually 
 seize me once a year — these are giddiness and deafness, 
 which usually last a month ; the first tormenting my 
 body, and the other making me incapable of conversing. 
 In this juncture your letter found me ; but I was able to 
 read, though not to hear ; neither did I value my deafness 
 for three days, because your letter was my constant enter- 
 tainment during that time; after which I grew sensibly 
 better, and I find myself well enough to acknowledge the 
 great favour you have done me, but cannot guess your 
 motive for so much goodness. I guess that your good 
 genius accidentally meeting mine was prevailed on to 
 solicit your pity. Or would you appear a constant 
 nymph, when all my goddesses of much longer acquaint- 
 ance have forsaken me, as it is reasonable they should. 
 But the men are almost as bad as the ladies, and I cannot 
 but think them in the right ; for I cannot make shifts, lie 
 rough, and be undone by starving in scanty lodgings, 
 without horses, servants, and conveniences, as I used to do 
 in London, with port wine, or perhaps porter ale, to save 
 charges ! 
 
 ' You dare not pretend to say that your town equals 
 ours in hospitable evenings, with your deep play, and no 
 entertainment but a cup of chocolate, unless you have 
 mended your manners. I will not declare your reasons 
 for not taking a trip over hither, because you have offered 
 none but your royal will and pleasure ; but if I were in 
 the case of your friends here, with more life before me, 
 and better health, I would solicit an Act of Parliament to 
 88 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 prevent your coming among us ; or, at least, to make it 
 high treason if you ever leave us. In the meantime, I 
 wish you were forced over here by debts or want, because 
 we would gladly agree to a contribution for life, dinners 
 and suppers excluded, that are to go for nothing. I speak 
 for the public good of this country, because a pernicious 
 heresy prevails here among the men that it is the duty of 
 your sex to be fools in every article except what is merely 
 domestic, and to do the ladies justice there are very few 
 of them without a good share of that heresy, except upon 
 one article, that they have as little regard Jor family 
 business as for the improvement of their minds. 
 
 1 1 have had for some time a design to write against 
 this heresy, but have now laid these thoughts aside, for 
 fear of making both sexes my enemies ; however, if you 
 will come over to my assistance, I will carry you about 
 among our adversaries, and dare them to produce one 
 instance where your want of ignorance makes you affected, 
 pretending, conceited, disdainful, endeavouring to speak 
 like a scholar, with twenty more faults objected by them- 
 selves, their lovers, or their husbands. But I fear your 
 case is desperate, for I know you never laugh at a jest 
 before you understand it ; and I much question whether 
 you understand a fan, or have so good a fancy at silks as 
 others ; and your way of spelling would not be intelligible. 
 Therefore, upon your arrival hither, I will give you 
 licence to be as silly as you can possible afford, one half 
 hour every week, to the heretics of each sex, to atone for 
 which you are to keep one fasting day at Dr. Delany's, 
 and one at the Deanery. . . . 
 
 ' Nothing vexes me so much with relation to you as 
 that with all my disposition to find faults, I was never 
 once able to fix upon anything that I could find amiss 
 
 89 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 although I watched you narrowly ; for when I found we 
 were to lose you soon, I kept my eyes and ears always 
 upon you, in the hopes that you would make some boutade. 
 That is, you know, a French word, and signifies a sudden 
 jerk from a horse's hinder feet which you did not expect, 
 because you thought him for some months a sober animal, 
 and this hath been my case with several ladies I chose for 
 friends ; in a week, a month, or a year, hardly one of 
 them failed to give me a boutade ; therefore, I command 
 you will obey my orders in coming over hither for one 
 whole year ; after which, upon the first boutade you make 
 I will give you my pass to be gone. 
 
 ' Are you acquainted with the Duke of Chandos ? I 
 know your cozen Lansdowne and he were intimate friends. 
 I have known the duke long and well, and thought I had 
 a share in his common favour, but he hath lately given 
 me great cause of complaint. I was pressed by many 
 persons of learning here to write to his Grace, that 
 having some old records relating to this kingdom, which 
 were taken from hence by the Earl of Clarendon, who was 
 Lieutenant here, and purchased them from private owners, 
 and are now in the duke's possession, that his grace would 
 please to bestow them to the universities here, because 
 Irish antiquities are of little value or curiosity to any 
 other nation. I writ with all the civility in my power, 
 and with compliments on the fame of his generosity, but 
 he hath pleased to be silent above six weeks, which is the 
 first treatment of that kind I ever met with from an 
 English person of quality, and would better become a 
 little Irish baron than a great English duke. 
 
 ' If I have tired you, it is the effect of the great esteem 
 I have for you ; do but lessen your own merits, and I will 
 shorten my letters in proportion. If you will come among 
 90' 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 us, I engage that dreadful, old beggarly, western parson 
 to residence ; otherwise, we all resolve to send him over, 
 which is, in our opinion, the surest way to drive you 
 hither, for you will be in more haste to fly from him than 
 to follow, even Mrs. Donnellan. . . .' 
 
 At this period Mrs. Pendarves was so much with her 
 sister, who was out of health, that the family letters are 
 few, and of no special interest, but the correspondence with 
 Swift continues at intervals of a few months. In November 
 1734 she acknowledges the foregoing letter, and excuses 
 herself for not having answered sooner on account of 
 a disorder in one of her eyes. * I wonder, 1 she continues, 
 ' you should be at a loss for a reason for my writing to 
 you ; we all love honour and pleasure, and, were your 
 letters dull, do you imagine my vanity would not be fond 
 of corresponding with the Dean of St. Patrick^ ? But, 
 the last reason you give I like best, and will stick by, 
 which is that I am a more constant nymph than all your 
 goddesses of much longer acquaintance, and, furthermore, 
 I venture to promise, you are in no danger of receiving a 
 boutade, if that depends on my will. As for those fast- 
 ing days you talk of, they are, I confess, alluring baits, and 
 I should certainly have been with you in three packets 
 according to your commands, could I either ^3/ or swim, but 
 I am a heavy lump, destined for a few years to this earthly 
 element; I cannot move about without the concurrent 
 assistance of several animals that are very expensive. 
 
 ' Now for business : as soon as I received your letter I 
 wrote to my uncle Lansdowne, and spoke to him about the 
 Duke of Chandos. He desired me to make his compli- 
 ments to you, and to tell you he was very sorry he could 
 be of no service to you in that affair, but he has had no 
 manner of correspondence with the duke these fifteen 
 
 91 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 years. I have put it, however, into hands that will 
 pursue it diligently, and, I hope, obtain for you what 
 you desire ; if they do not succeed, you must not call me 
 negligent, for whatever lies in my power to serve you is 
 of too much consequence for me to neglect. I have left 
 my good friend and your humble servant Mrs. Donnellan 
 behind me in London, where she meets with little enter- 
 tainment suitable to her understanding; and she is a 
 much fitter companion for the Dublin Thursday society 
 than for the trifling company she is now engaged in. I 
 wish you had her with you, as I cannot have her, because 
 I know she would be happier than where she is, and my 
 wish I think no bad one for you. . . .' 
 
 In February, 1735, the deaths of Lord and Lady Lans- 
 downe occurred within a few days of each other. None of 
 Mrs. Pendarves's letters concerning the loss of her favourite 
 uncle appears to have been preserved, but the event made 
 a considerable difference in the family fortunes, Mary's 
 eldest brother, Bernard Granville, succeeding to Lord 
 Lansdowne's property, though not to his title. An allusion 
 to Lord Lansdowne's death occurs in the following letter 
 from Swift, dated February 22nd, 1735 :— 
 
 'Madam, — I have observed among my own sex, and 
 particularly in myself, that those of us who grow most 
 insignificant expect most civility, and give less than they 
 did when they were possibly good for something. I am 
 grown sickly, weak, lean, forgetful, peevish, spiritless, and 
 for those very reasons expect that you, who have nothing 
 to do but to be happy, should be entertaining me with 
 your letters and civilities, although I never return either. 
 Your last is dated above two months ago, since which 
 time I never had one hour of health or spirit to acknow- 
 ledge it. It is your fault ; why did you not come sooner 
 92 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 into the world, or let me come later ? It is your fault for 
 coming into Ireland at all ; it is your fault for leaving it. 
 I confess your case is hard, for if you return you are a 
 great fool to come among beggars and slaves, if you do 
 not return you are a great knave in forsaking those you 
 have seduced to admire you. 
 
 ' The complaint you make of a disorder in your eyes 
 will admit of no raillery ; it is what I was heartily afflicted 
 to hear, but since you were able to write, I hope it hath 
 entirely left you. I am often told that I am an ill judge 
 of ladies' eyes, so I shall make you an ill compliment in 
 confessing that I read in yours all the accomplishments 
 I found in your mind and conversation, and happened to 
 agree in my thoughts with better judges. I only wish 
 they would never shine out of Dublin, for then you would 
 recover the only temporal blessings this town affords — 
 I mean sociable dinners and cheerful evenings, which, 
 without your assistance, we shall certainly lose. For Dr. 
 Delany lives entirely at Delville — the town air will not 
 agree with his lady — and in winter there is no seeing him 
 or dining with him but by those who keep coaches, and 
 they must return the moment after dinner. Your false 
 reasons for not coming hither are the same in one article 
 for my not going among you, I mean the business of 
 expense ; but I can remove yours easily. It is but to stay 
 with us always, and then you can live at least three times 
 better than at home, where everything is thrice as dear, 
 and your money twelve in the hundred better, whereas 
 my sickness and years make it impossible for me to live 
 at London. I must have three horses, as many servants, 
 and a large house, neither can I live without constant 
 wine, while my poor revenues are sinking every day. 
 
 ' I am very sorry for the death of your cousin Lans- 
 
 93 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 downe ; his son [i.e. son-in-law] Graham is ruining himself 
 as fast as possible, but I hope the young lady has an 
 untouchable settlement. I am very much obliged to your 
 care about that business with the Duke of Chandos. I 
 hear he told a person he would grant my request, but 
 " that he had no acquaintance with me." 
 
 ' Well, madam, pray God bless you wherever you go or 
 reside. May you ever be as you are, agreeable to Killala 
 curate and Dublin dean, for I disdain to mention tem- 
 poral folk without gowns or cassocks. I will wish for 
 your happiness, though I shall never see you, as Horace 
 did for Galatea, when she was going a long voyage from 
 home. Pray read the verses in the original : 
 
 c " Sis licet felix ubicunque malis 
 
 Et memor nostri Galatea vivas," etc. 
 
 A year or two ago I would have put the whole into 
 English verse and applied it to you, but my rhyming is 
 fled with my health, and what is more to be pitied, even 
 my vein of satire on ladies is lost. 1 
 
 In March, Anne Granville appears to be staying with her 
 sister in town, and Mrs. Pendarves writes to her mother : 
 
 ' My sister is very much mended by Dr. Hollins's pre- 
 scriptions ; she looks abundantly better, and is as lively 
 as she used to be. . . . There is to be a magnificent 
 masquerade at the Spanish Ambassador's after Lent; 
 happy are those who can get tickets. I hope to get one 
 for my sister, for it will be a show worth going to. To- 
 night is Farinelli's benefit ; all the polite world will flock 
 there. I don't love mobbing, so I shall leave them to 
 themselves. My sister gave you an account of Mr. 
 Handel's playing here for three hours together ; I did wish 
 for you, for no entertainment in music could exceed it.' 
 94 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 There seems to have been some little difficulty about 
 the settlement of Lord Lansdowne's affairs, for in May, 
 1735, Lady Granville * writes to Mrs. Pendarves, ' My sou, 
 my Lord Gower, and I have not the least intention to 
 wrong your brother, but, on the contrary, to make him 
 master of his estate without vexatious delays. I give 
 you free leave to read this to Sir John Stanley and your 
 brother, and afterwards, if I can't prevail, if we are not to 
 go on in an amicable way, I shall think both the Knight 
 and the Esq re are of the family of the Wrongheads. 
 When I am indifferent to people, I let them go their ways, 
 but your brother I have had so much at heart to see happy 
 that I would not have him take the contrary way to it. 1 
 
 A few more extracts from the letters which passed 
 between Mrs. Pendarves and Dr. Swift before the great 
 man's brilliant intellect suffered a final eclipse may bring 
 this chapter to a conclusion. 
 
 MRS. PENDARVES TO DR. SWIFT. 
 
 'May 16, 1735. 
 ' You have never yet put it in my power to accuse you 
 of want of civility, for since my acquaintance with you 
 you have always paid me more than I expected ; but I 
 may sometimes tax you with want of kindness, which, to 
 tell you the truth, I did for a month at least. At last 
 I was informed your not writing to me was occasioned 
 by your ill state of health ; that changed my discontent, 
 but did not lessen it, and I have not yet quite deter- 
 mined it in my mind, whether I would have you sick or 
 
 1 Countess Granville was a daughter of the first Earl of Bath, mother 
 of Lord Carteret, and great-aunt of Mrs. Delany. She and her sister, 
 Lady Jane Leveson Gower, were co-heiresses of their nephew, the third 
 Earl of Bath. 
 
 95 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 negligent of me ; they are both great evils and hard to 
 choose out of — I heartily wish neither may happen. 
 You call yourself by a great many ill names, which I take 
 ill, for I never could bear to hear a person I value abused ; 
 I much easier forgive your calling me knave and fool. . . . 
 ' I believe you have had a quiet winter in Dublin ; not 
 so has it been with us in London ; hurry, wrangling, 
 extravagance, and matrimony have reigned with great 
 impetuosity. Our operas have given much cause of dis- 
 sension ; men and women have been deeply engaged, and 
 no debate in the House of Commons has been urged with 
 more warmth. The dispute of the merits of the com- 
 posers and singers is carried to so great a height that it 
 is much feared by all true lovers of music that operas 
 will be quite overturned. I own I think we make a very 
 silly figure about it. I am much obliged to you for the 
 two Latin lines in your last letter; it gave me a fair 
 pretence of showing the letter to have them explained, 
 and I have gained no small honour by that. . . .' 
 
 ' Bath, Jan. 7, 1736. 
 ' I am told you have some thoughts of coming here in 
 the spring. I do not think it proper to tell you how well 
 pleased I am with that faint prospect. I write in all 
 haste to know if you really have any such design, for if 
 you have, I shall order my affairs accordingly, that I may 
 be able to meet you here. The good old custom of wish- 
 ing a happy new year to one^s friends is now exploded 
 among our refined people of the present age, but I hope 
 you will give me leave to tell you without being offended 
 that I wish you many years of happiness. . . . The 
 physicians have at last advised my sister to the Bath 
 waters. We have been here a fortnight. They do not 
 96 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 disagree with her, that is all that can be said for the 
 present. I think I have used you to a bad custom of 
 late,- that of writing two letters for one of yours. I am 
 often told I have great assurance in writing to you at all, 
 but I know you to be as much above criticising a letter 
 of mine as I should be below your notice if I gave myself 
 any affected airs. You have encouraged my correspond- 
 ence, and I should be a brute if I did not make the best 
 of such an opportunity. . . .' 
 
 DR. SWIFT TO MRS. PENDARVES. 
 
 ' Dublin, Jan. 29, 1736. 
 
 ' I had indeed some intention to go to Bath, but I had 
 neither health or leisure for such a journey; those times 
 are past with me, and I am older by fourscore since the 
 first time I had the honour to see you. I got a giddiness 
 of raw fruit when I was a lad in England, which I never 
 could be wholly rid of, and it is now too late, so that I 
 confine myself entirely to a domestic life. I am visited 
 seldom, but visit much seldomer. I dine alone like a king, 
 having few acquaintances, and those lessening daily. This 
 town is not what you left it, and I impute the cause 
 altogether to your absence. . . . 
 
 ' It was impossible to answer your letter from Paradise 
 [Mrs. Pendarves's name for Sir John Stanley's villa at 
 Northend] — the old Grecians of Asia called every fine 
 garden by that name ; and besides, when I consulted some 
 friends, they conceived that wherever you resided must 
 needs be paradise. Yet this was too general a direction 
 if you had a humour of rambling. With great submission, 
 I am sorry to find a lady make use of the word paradise, 
 from which you turned us out as well as yourselves ; and 
 pray tell me freely, how many of your sex bring it along 
 G 97 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 with them to their husband's houses ? I was still at a 
 loss where this paradise of yours might be, when Mrs. 
 Donnellan discovered the secret. She said it was a place 
 where K. Charles 1st in his troubles used to ride, because 
 he found good watering for his horse ! If that be all, we 
 have ten thousand such paradises in this kingdom, of which 
 you may have your choice, as my bay mare is ready to depose. 
 ' It is either a very low way of thinking, or as great a 
 failure of education in either sex, to imagine that any 
 man increases in his critical faculty in proportion to his 
 wit and learning ; it falls out always directly contrary. 
 A common carpenter will work more cheerfully for a 
 gentleman skilled in his trade than for a conceited fool 
 who knows nothing of it. I must despise a lady who takes 
 me for a pedant, and you have made me half angry with 
 so many lines in your letter which look like a kind of 
 apology for writing to me. Besides, to say the truth, the 
 ladies in general are extremely mended both in writing 
 and reading since I was young, only it is to be hoped that 
 in proper time gaming and dressing may reduce them to 
 their native ignorance. A woman of quality, who had 
 excellent good sense, was formerly my correspondent, but 
 she scrawled and spelt like a Wapping wench, having 
 been brought up in a Court at a time before reading was 
 thought of any use to a female ; and I know several others 
 of very high quality with the same defect. . . . 1 
 
 MRS. PENDARVES TO DR. SWIFT. 
 
 ( London, April 22, 1736. 
 
 ' I am sorry you make use of so many good arguments 
 
 for not coming to the Bath ; I was in hopes you might be 
 
 prevailed with. I left the Bath last Sunday se'night, 
 
 very full and gay. I think Bath a more conifortable place 
 
 98 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to live in than London : all the entertainments of the place 
 lie in a small compass, and you are at liberty to partake 
 of them or let them alone, j ust as it suits your humour. 
 This town is grown to such an enormous size, that above 
 half the day must be spent in the streets, going from one 
 place to another. I like it every year less and less. . . . 
 
 * When I went out of town last autumn, the reigning 
 madness was Farinelli ; I find it now turned on Pasquin, 
 a dramatic satire on the times. It has had almost as 
 long a run as the Beggars' Opera ; but in my opinion not 
 with equal merit, though it has humour. Monstrous pre- 
 parations are making for the Royal wedding [of Frederic, 
 Prince of Wales]. I am too poor and too dull to make 
 one among the fine multitude. The newspapers say my 
 Lord Carteret's youngest daughter is to have the Duke of 
 Bedford ; I hear nothing of it from the family, but think 
 it not unlikely. The Duke of Marlborough and his grand- 
 mother [widow of the famous duke] are upon bad terms ; 
 the Duke of Bedford, who has also been ill-treated by her, 
 has offered the Duke of Marlborough to supply him with ten 
 thousand pounds a year if he will go to law and torment 
 the old Dowager ! The Duke of Chandos's marriage 1 
 has made a great noise, and the poor Duchess is often re- 
 proached with being bred up in Burr Street, Wapping. . . .' 
 
 'Sept. 2, 1736. 
 
 ' I never will accept of the writ of ease you threaten 
 me with ; do not flatter yourself with any such hopes ; I 
 receive too many advantages from your letters to drop a 
 correspondence of such consequence to me. I am really 
 grieved that you are so much persecuted with a giddiness 
 in your head ; the Bath and travelling would certainly be 
 of use to you. ... I am uneasy to know how you do, 
 
 1 The Duke's third wife was the widow of Sir Thomas Davall, knight. 
 
 99 
 
 L.oFC. 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and have no other means for that satisfaction but from 
 your own hand. I should have made this inquiry sooner, 
 but that I have this summer undertaken a work that has 
 given me full employment, which is making a grotto in 
 Sir John Stanley's garden at Northend, and it is chiefly 
 composed of shells I had from Ireland. My life, for two 
 months past, has been very like a hermit's ; I have had 
 all the comforts of life but society, and have found living 
 quite alone a pleasanter thing than I imagined. The 
 hours I could spend in reading have been entertained by 
 Rollins History of the Ancients in French. I am very 
 well pleased with it, and think your Hannibals, Scipios, 
 and Cyruses prettier fellows than are to be met with 
 nowadays. Painting and music have had their share in 
 my amusements. . . . 
 
 'I suppose you have heard of Mr. Pope's accident, 
 which had liked to have proved a fatal one. He was 
 leading a young lady into a boat from his own stairs, 
 when her foot missed the side of the boat, she fell into 
 the water and pulled Mr. Pope after her : the boat slipped 
 away and they were immediately out of their depth, and 
 it was with some difficulty they were saved. The young 
 lady's name was Talbot ; she is as remarkable for being 
 a handsome young woman as Mr. Pope is for wit. I think 
 I cannot give you a higher notion of her beauty, unless 
 I had named you instead of him. . . .' 
 
 This seems to be the last letter that has been preserved 
 of the correspondence with Swift. In this year, 1736, 
 the brain trouble, with which he had long been threatened, 
 entered upon an acuter phase, and it soon became necessary 
 to place his affairs in the hands of trustees. Swift died 
 in 1745, and his old friend, Dr. Delany, was one of his 
 eight executors. 
 100 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 (1736-1740) 
 
 The letters to Anne Granville continue to give an 
 account of all the amusements and occupations of her 
 sister's life. In May 1736, Anne, who had been staying 
 in town, returned to Gloucester, and on the very evening 
 of her departure, Mary writes to describe how she has 
 passed that ' dismal day ' : — 
 
 ' I curled, powdered, dressed, and went to Mrs. Montagu 
 at one, from thence to Court, where we were touzled and 
 pushed about to make room for citizens in their fur gowns 
 who came to make their compliments to the royal pair. 
 With great difficulty we made our curtsey to the Princess 
 of Wales, but as for the Prince, you might as well have 
 made your compliments to him at Henley ! It was 
 actually more crowded than the day we went to be pre- 
 sented. From the Princess's Court we went to the Queen's, 
 and made our reverence. I dined with our agreeable 
 friends, who like you too much not to feel for me to-day. 
 It is now just eight; my Lady Colladon has made me 
 promise to go with her in the morning to Vanderbank's, 
 the painter's. ... I have taken my walk with Lady 
 Colladon. From Vanderbank's we went to Marylebone, 
 and walked in the gardens, but sun and dust destroyed 
 the pleasure of the walk.' 
 
 It is in this year that we first find Mrs. Pendarves 
 staying with her friend, the Duchess of Portland, at 
 Bulstrode, a place that, in later life, became to her as a 
 
 101 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 second home. In October 1736, she writes from Bulstrode 
 to Mrs. Catherine Collingwood : 
 
 'It is not fair to enjoy all the pleasures of this place 
 without communicating them to you, but I think it will 
 be best to be silent on that head for two reasons : one is, 
 that I am at a loss to tell you how well pleased I am with 
 my entertainment ; the other is, not to tantalise you. . . . 
 The Duchess received your letter this morning, and gave 
 it a kind welcome. Don't imagine she would have wrote 
 to you to-day if I had not, for that will make you wish 
 my pen, ink, and paper in the fire. She could not possibly 
 have wrote to you, for what with praying, entertaining 
 agreeable company, kissing Lady Betty, and writing four 
 long letters of great importance, she had not an inch to 
 spare. We make use of the fine weather, and walk all 
 over the park and gardens : they are very fine, and so is 
 the house ; and though we live as magnificently as the 
 Prince of Wales, I am as easy as if I was at home, which 
 is charming and very uncommon. 
 
 ' Dear Colly, send me a little news privately, for I have 
 exposed my ignorance strangely since my being here. 
 Nobody by my conversation could think that I was just 
 come from London, but rather imagine that I had spent my 
 life on the mountains ! We have variety of amusements, 
 as reading, working, and drawing in the morning ; in the 
 afternoon the scene changes, there are billiards, looking 
 over prints, coffee, tea, and by way of interlude, pretty 
 Lady Betty comes upon the stage, and I can play as well 
 at bo-peep as if I had a nursery of my own. She is the 
 best-humoured little dear that ever I met with. . . . 1 
 
 At Bulstrode Mrs. Pendarves's literary and artistic tastes 
 met with sympathy and encouragement, and we even find her 
 working at astronomy, a study which, knowing the light 
 102 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 in which a learned lady was regarded by her contem- 
 poraries, she was especially anxious to pursue in private. 
 But her secret was discovered by a member of that sex which 
 was then so desperately jealous of any mental cultivation in 
 a ' female,"' whose sphere in life, it held, should be bounded 
 by the nursery and the store-room. ' This morning,'' writes 
 Mary, ' as my master and I were drawing and examining 
 circles, who should come in but Mr. Robert Harley. I 
 blushed and looked excessive silly to be caught in the 
 fact; but the affair, which I have endeavoured to keep 
 secret, is discovered, and I must bear the reflection of 
 those who think me very presuming in attempting to be 
 wise. I shall never aim at talking upon subjects of that 
 kind, but the little I gain by these lectures will make me 
 take far more pleasure in hearing others talk.'' 
 
 In December, Mrs. Pendarves was in great distress for 
 her young friend, Lady Weymouth, whose marriage she 
 had been instrumental in bringing about. 'My Lady 
 Weymouth continues extremely ill, 1 she writes to her 
 sister. ' She has not had since this day se'night three 
 hours' sleep, and she has been the greater part of that 
 time delirious. So melancholy a house I never saw, and 
 poor Lady Carteret is to be pitied. I go to them every 
 day, and think I am some comfort to them. Last night 
 I was in hopes I might have burned this letter, Lady 
 Weymouth mended so much, but her fever returned at 
 twelve last night. I prayed for her most heartily this 
 morning at early church, but God Almighty designs her 
 for a happier place. She has discharged all her social 
 duties with great honour, and I believe her to be an 
 innocent well-disposed creature. I own I did not know 
 I loved her so well as I do. . . . Poor Lady Weymouth is 
 gone; she died at half an hour after five. I can add no more/ 
 
 103 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ' Jan. 4, 1737. 
 
 i I received your letter just as I was stepping into my 
 chair to go to Lord Weymouth's dismal house, to the 
 christening of Master James Thynne. I personated Mrs. 
 How. The office I own was terrible to me, but I could 
 not refuse it. I endeavoured to think of the poor woman 
 who was once brilliant there as placed in more glory and 
 eternal happiness, but my thoughts would turn on her 
 poor children and servants, and the agonies I saw her in 
 the last time I was in that house. 1 
 
 Early in the new year, Anne Granville came to town 
 to stay with her sister, and the two were probably 
 together for several months. The difficulties of winter 
 travelling in those days is illustrated by the following 
 passage in a letter of Mrs. Pendarves, suggesting arrange- 
 ments for the journey: 'The frost that gave me such 
 spirits is gone, and but little hopes of any that can mend 
 the roads. What shall I do to get you safely thro 1 the 
 mud and dirt that is between us ? Have you examined 
 the coachmen ? Sure the roads are not worse than usual, 
 and I believe the stage-coach is safer than any other con- 
 veyance at this time of the year, because they know every 
 hole in the road, and there are no waters on the Oxford 
 Road. But then.be careful of cold, and wrap up warm. 
 I have wound myself up with the expectation of having 
 you (upon my mama's indulgence in saying she would 
 spare you to me), and my disappointment will be very 
 great if you should not come, and yet I would not have 
 you run any hazards. 1 
 
 In a letter (undated) to Miss Collingwood, Mrs. Pen- 
 darves gives some account of her doings during the summer: 
 * Let me tell you, you exult too soon ; I cannot yet own 
 my wager lost [a wager that instead of going into a 
 104 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 convent, she would be married before the strawberry 
 season was over]. Designing and acting are two things, 
 but if I do lose it I will pay honestly, and contrive a way 
 for you to receive it on the spot it was lost. I have done 
 a thousand things since I saw you, and well I may, modestly 
 speaking. I was in London for twenty minutes, but it 
 being devotion time, I would not attempt calling on you. 
 I have had some company with me, been at Isleworth, 
 Twickenham, and Whitton Hounslow ; seen Mr. Wing- 
 field, his lady, and Mr. Pope's gardens; almost finished 
 a history and a portrait ; worked hard at my grotto ; am 
 to dine to-day at Osterley, Sir Francis Child's, and will do 
 my utmost to smite the old knight. 1 
 
 In the winter Mrs. Pendarves was again at Bulstrode, 
 and in a letter to her sister gives a lively little sketch of 
 the mode of life in a great country-house a century and a 
 half ago. She begins with a fear that she will never be 
 able to discharge her epistolary debts, for ' my Lord 
 Oxford has lent me some curious drawings of Stonehenge 
 to copy. They have employed me two mornings, and will 
 two mornings more, so my writing-hour is drove down to 
 the evening. Well, I must drink coffee at five, and play 
 with the little jewels — it is the ceremony of the house. 
 Then says the Duchess, " Don't go, Penny, till I have net 
 one more row in my cherry-net, 11 which proves a hundred 
 meshes; then comes some prater and asks her Grace a 
 question ; the arm suspended in the air forgets its occupa- 
 tion ; she answers, and asks some other question in return 
 — ten to one but a laugh is hatched, and once in a quarter 
 of an hour the netting-work is remembered ! With 
 patience I await her solemn motions, and by half an 
 hour after six we are in the dressing-room, armed with 
 pen and ink, the fair field prepared to receive the attack. 
 
 105 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Then comes Lady Elizabeth, Lady Harriet, and the noble 
 Marquis ; after half an hour's jumping they are dismissed, 
 and we soberly say, " Now, we will write our letters." In 
 comes the Duke, " The tea stays for the ladies " ; well, we 
 must go, for there's no living at Bulstrode withoutfour meals 
 a day. Then when the beaux esprits are met, the fumes of 
 inspiring tea begin to operate till eight of the clock strikes ; 
 then I start up, run away, and here I am brimful of a thou- 
 sand things to say to you, but have no time to write them.'' 
 
 From time to time curious and minute particulars are 
 given about the finery and fashions of the period. For 
 example, we read that in January 1739 hoops are made 
 of the richest damask, trimmed with gold and silver, and 
 cost fourteen guineas a hoop. At the Court ball held in 
 honour of the Prince of Wales 1 birthday, Lady Hunting- 
 don's 1 costume was the most remarkable, as may readily be 
 believed from the following description : — 
 
 'Her petticoat was of black velvet embroidered with 
 chenille, the pattern a large stone vase filled with ramping 
 flowers that spread almost over a breadth of the petticoat 
 from the bottom to the top ; between each vase of flowers 
 was a pattern of gold shells and foliage embossed and 
 most heavily rich. The gown was white satin embroidered 
 also with chenille mixed with gold, no vase on the sleeve, 
 but two or three on the tail; it was a most laboured 
 piece of finery, the pattern much properer for a stucco 
 staircase than the apparel of a lady.' 
 
 At another Court entertainment we hear that Mary's 
 former lover, Lord Baltimore, was in light brown and 
 silver, his coat lined quite throughout with ermine. Also, 
 that 'his lady looked like a frightened ozvl, her locks 
 strutted out, and most furiously greased, or rather gummed 
 1 Selina, afterwards celebrated as the foundress of a Methodist sect. 
 
 106 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and powdered. 1 There is a touch of malice in the last 
 sentence, which is natural enough in the circumstances, 
 and shows that though the writer's heart may have 
 recovered from Lord Baltimore's defection, there was 
 still a little wound left in her vanity. 
 
 In August the illness of the Duchess of Portland after 
 the birth of a child caused all her friends great anxiety 
 and alarm. The details given of her medical treatment 
 make it seem almost miraculous that she recovered. On 
 August 15 Anne Granville, who was staying with her 
 sister, writes to Lady Throckmorton (nee Collingwood) : 
 ' For fear my dear Colly should see in the newspapers an 
 account of the Duchess of Portland, and be alarmed, I 
 write to let her know really how she is. Doctor Sands 
 says there is no danger, but she has fever, is reduced 
 
 extremely low and weak, and had a blister put on to-day 
 
 ' Aug. 18, 1739. 
 
 s1 Tis the will of heaven, my dearest Colly, that we 
 must resign our most amiable Duchess ! My sister 
 and I were at Whitehall yesterday morning. The 
 Duchess's fever was then as high as ever, nor has there 
 been any intermission for thirty days. Dr. Sands insisted 
 on a consultation ; Mead came, and only confirmed Sands 1 
 prescription, which was a blister on each arm, and a 
 vomit ! Last night we heard she was worse; this morning 
 Sands gives her over, and poor Richard sent us the message 
 that they "only expected the great change. 11 My poor 
 Penny is inconsolate. The poor Duke is truly sensible of 
 his irreparable loss. 
 
 ' Saturday Night. 
 
 ' I am this moment come from Whitehall. The Duchess 
 is better, and they have great hopes of her being able to 
 truggle through it. 1 
 
 107 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 'Aug. 22nd. 
 
 6 With the greatest joy imaginable, I can assure my dear 
 Lady Throck, that our dear Duchess is out of danger. 
 You may guess the happiness this recovery gives to Lord 
 and Lady Oxford, who were in the deepest affliction, and 
 the Duke has shown himself very sensible of the blessing 
 he enjoys in so excellent a creature. . . . , 
 
 The winter seems to have been spent in the usual 
 fashion, including a visit to Bulstrode, and attendances 
 at Court, and recreations in the shape of plays and 
 oratorios. In November Mary writes to Lady Throck- 
 morton : ' Our dear charming Duchess is as well as you 
 can wish to have her — good looks, good spirits, and 
 every good belonging to her that mortal woman can be 
 possessed of. . . . As for news, I know of none : war is 
 talked of in all companies, but my disposition always in- 
 clines me to wish for peace. I tremble at the thought 
 of a battle, and for the many lives hazarded for our ill- 
 conduct and ambition — but this is being a mere stupid 
 woman ! The concerts begin next Saturday at the Hay- 
 market. Caristini sings, Peschetti composes ; the house 
 is made up into little boxes, like the playhouses abroad.' 
 
 The great event of the year 1740 was the marriage of 
 Anne Granville to John Devves, the younger son of Court 
 Dewes of Maplebury. The way in which the affair was 
 brought about is a curious example of the unromantic 
 nature of matrimonial arrangements in the eighteenth 
 century. Anne, warned perhaps by her sister's sufferings, had 
 always regarded worth of character as the first essential in 
 a husband, and in her youthful days had rejected numerous 
 suitors because their principles were not equal to their 
 fortunes. At thirty-five, however, she seems to have 
 come to the conclusion that marriage, and a house of her 
 108 
 

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MRS DELANY 
 
 own, would be more for her advantage and happiness than 
 a single life. Mr. Dewes, with whom she had no ac- 
 quaintance, was recommended to her by a third person 
 as a worthy man of good family though moderate fortune. 
 A letter has been preserved from Anne to Lady Throck- 
 morton begging to know her real opinion of Mr. Dewes. 
 
 ' There is a person he is recommended to,' she proceeds, 
 ' but she is quite a stranger to him, and is my friend, and 
 therefore I make an inquiry about him, but I must en- 
 treat that not a word of it be mentioned to anybody, 
 because the thing is an entire secret. The person I speak 
 of has no notion of happiness in a married life but what 
 must proceed from an equality of sentiments and mutual 
 good opinion ; and therefore she would be glad to know 
 if Mr. D has agreeable conversation, generous prin- 
 ciples, and is not a lawyer in his manners.'' 
 
 Lady Throckmorton appears to have seen through the 
 transparent fiction of the 'friend, 1 for in her next letter Anne 
 admits that her guess was right, and adds that ' the parties 
 are to meet in about a fortnight to see if they like well 
 enough on each side to permit any procedure in the affair, 
 and their friends will be consulted, and they will consider 
 all particulars. 1 In a postscript she begs that Lady Throck- 
 morton will not mention to Mrs. Pendarves the subject of 
 their correspondence. It was evident that Mary was to 
 be kept in the dark till matters were finally settled, partly 
 perhaps on account of her anti-matrimonial prejudices, 
 partly because she might not consider Mr. Dewes a 
 sufficiently good match for her sister. The negotiations 
 proved successful, and towards the end of April Mrs. 
 Pendarves was let into the secret. She writes to Anne 
 on April 22, 1740, in sober and uneffusive style : — 
 
 'Your letter to my brother has cheered my spirits a 
 
 ]09 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 good deal. I think Mr. Dewes behaves himself like a 
 man of sense, and with a regard for you which must 
 recommend him to all your friends. My brother and 
 myself will receive him with a great deal of pleasure 
 as soon as his business permits him to come to us. As 
 soon as we have met, and he has settled with my brother, 
 then we may proceed to particulars, buying wedding- 
 clothes, and determining where the ceremony is to be. 
 . . . Last Saturday I went a most notable expedition. 
 We set out, two hackney-coaches full, from Whitehall at 
 ten. Our first show was the wild beasts in Covent 
 Garden; from thence to St. Bartholomew's Hospital — 
 the staircase painted by Hogarth ; from there to 
 Faulkner's, the famous lapidary, where we saw abundance 
 of fine things, and the manner of cutting and polishing 
 pebbles, etc. ; then to Surgeon's Hall to see the famous 
 picture by Holbein of Harry the Eighth, with above a 
 dozen figures in it, all portraits ; then to the Tower and 
 Mint — the assaying of the gold and silver is very curious ; 
 saw lions, porcupines, armour and arms in abundance; 
 from thence to Pontach's to a very good dinner, and then 
 proceeded to the round church in Stocks Market, a most 
 beautiful building.' 
 
 The marriage took place in August 1740, and the pair 
 established themselves in a small country-house at Bradley 
 in Gloucestershire. Mr. Dewes is described in the various 
 family letters that relate to this period as a man of good 
 sense, good nature, and general worth of character. 
 Although for some years his means were narrow, the 
 marriage seems to have been a happy one, in a calm 
 unromantic sort of fashion. Anne, writing to Lady 
 Throckmorton shortly after the wedding, expresses herself 
 with all the philosophical common-sense of her period : — 
 110 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ' I have got nothing in that state you seem so glad to 
 see me come into, but what gives me a fair prospect of 
 happiness, and though our cot between two oaks yields 
 nothing fine, it affords content, and will always do so as 
 long as affection remains in the inhabitants, and supplies 
 the place of great apartments, equipages, and state, 
 though when they are all joined together, as at Weston, 
 it is very charming indeed. But alas ! how rare ! and I 
 can't help thinking that there is for the generality more 
 happiness in a middling than in a great fortune, and it is 
 very proper for me to be of that opinion now, as Mr. 
 Dewes's fortune is moderate, but his qualities are ex- 
 tremely good, which are to be preferred to riches, and 
 I had no pretence to expect both. 1 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves seems to have divided her time this year 
 between her mother, her sister, and her friend at Bulstrode. 
 
 It was in November 1740 that the Duchess of Port- 
 land's little daughter, Lady Elizabeth Cavendish Bentinck 
 (then about five years old), wrote the following note to 
 Mrs. Dewes, which is worth transcribing, because thereby 
 hangs a tale : — 
 
 * Dear Pip, — I love you with all my heart. Mrs. 
 Elstob [the governess] gives her service to you. I thank 
 you for the pretty letter you sent me by Penny. I learn 
 very well the Common Prayer Book and Bible, and have 
 almost got by heart the "Turtle and Sparrow. 11 Papa and 
 mama's best compliments to you. I have learnt " Molly 
 Mog of the Rose, 11 and am learning now the English 
 Grammar. I should be very glad to see you, and am, 
 my dear Pip, your affectionate friend, 
 
 'Elizabeth Cavendish Bentinck.' 
 
 Among Lady Llanovers papers is a letter from Sir 
 
 111 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 William Watkins Wynn enclosing a cutting of a 
 paragraph which he had contributed to the Cambrian 
 Nezos on January 14, 1880. After quoting the above 
 note to ' dear Pip ' from the Delany correspondence, Sir 
 William proceeds : ' About the year 1823, I went to 
 breakfast at the house of the above lady [Lady Elizabeth]. 
 She was then Marchioness-Dowager of Bath, and lived in 
 Charles Street or Hill Street — I think the former. Of the 
 party were two of Lady Bath's nieces, the Misses Cotes, and 
 a Miss Arbuthnot. After breakfast we went to a review in 
 Hyde Park, where in the crowd Miss Arbuthnot lost her 
 shoe, for which we had a difficult search. We afterwards 
 adjourned to Lady Stamford's, Lady Bath's sister, for 
 luncheon. So I, who am alive and in health on Jan. 2, 
 1880, visited at the house of a lady who wrote a letter on 
 the 23rd of November, 1740. W.' 
 
 One of Mrs. Pendarves's fellow-guests at Bulstrode was 
 Miss Robinson, afterwards the celebrated wit and blue- 
 stocking, Mrs. Edward Montagu. This lady, writing to Mrs. 
 Donnellan in December, says : ' Madame Pen. [Pendarves] 
 is copying Sacharissa's portrait from Vandyck, and does 
 it with that felicity of genius that attends her in all her 
 performances. I believe, could Waller see it, he would 
 begin to make new verses on her, and ask of the picture, 
 as he does of the image of his dream — 
 
 "Where could'st thou find 
 Shades to counterfeit that face?" 
 
 In the same month Mrs. Pendarves writes to Lady 
 Throckmorton that she cannot attempt to describe the 
 variety of scenes she has passed through during a year of 
 extraordinary hurry, and adds, 'But to crown all my 
 toils, / hope I may venture to say I do think my sister 
 112 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 happily settled. You that have a tender heart can easily 
 guess what agitation of spirits I have been under, for 
 marriage is serious and hazardous, and you know what 
 my fondness is for my sister. You say very right, I am 
 extremely happy at Bulstrode, and 'tis Bulstrode alone 
 that could make me cheerful and easy when I am parted 
 from my sister. But as our joys circulate very fast, mine 
 will ebb as well as flow, and London, odious London, 
 will rob me of the delight I now enjoy. That little 
 exclamation against the metropolis is entre nous, for I 
 would not openly declare my thoughts on that subject 
 for fear of being hissed off the stage as soon as I made 
 my appearance again. I hear what would be whispered 
 about me with a shrug of the shoulders : " Ten years ago 
 she was of another mind — you may see the reason plainly 
 in her face." , 
 
 In Mary's letters to her sister at this time there are 
 one or two amusing literary allusions, of which the 
 following examples may be given : — 
 
 ' I am just come from the tea-table, where we have had 
 a warm dispute, occasioned by Madame de Sevigne's letters, 
 which one of the company said were very fulsome, and 
 wanted variety of expression to make them agreeable, 
 and that a very sincere, affectionate person could never 
 be at a loss for a new thought on such a subject as friend- 
 ship. If they were, it was a mark that their friendship 
 was not very warm. The lady that started the dispute 
 would not yield the point, but maintained the heart 
 might be very warm though the imagination was not 
 very bright. Another lady said that was her opinion 
 too, and that words may be wanting where love is not ; 
 upon which says a wise philosopher in company, " What 
 need you to be in a fuss about sweet words? Cannot 
 h 113 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 you say ' my syrup of violets, 1 or ' my syrup of cowslips , ? " 
 This turned the disputant spirit into a loud laugh, dis- 
 persed the company, and gives me an opportunity of 
 flying to her for whom no expressions can be too kind to 
 do justice to her merit and my love. . . . 
 
 ' We have begun Pamela, but I will not say anything of 
 it till you give me your opinion. By the time it comes to 
 you, I suppose you and my good brother-in-law may have 
 chatted over all the transactions that have passed during 
 your separation, and may be glad to read a new book 
 for variety. ... I hear a monument is now putting up 
 for Shakespeare in Westminster Abbey. Many Latin 
 inscriptions have been offered to adorn the same, and set 
 forth his worth, and one was sent to Pope for his appro- 
 bation ; the sense of it meant, that after many years' 
 neglect Shakespeare appeared with general acclamation. 
 Mr. Pope could not very well make out the meaning, and 
 enclosed it to Dr. Mead with the following translation : 
 
 ' " After an hundred and thirty years' nap, 
 Enter Shakespeare with a loud clap." 
 
 I will, if I have time to copy it out, enclose you a copy 
 of verses of his that I believe have not come into your 
 hands, but there is a line or two I think had better have 
 been omitted. I wish poets would be more delicate, or 
 at least have some respect for those that are so." 
 
 With the new year Mrs. Pendarves was back in town, 
 and disporting herself at Norfolk House, which was then 
 inhabited by the Prince and Princess of Wales. As usual, 
 she gives her sister an account of the fine toilets she 
 sees, and her description of the Duchess of Queensberry's 
 clothes is worth transcribing as a veritable curiosity in 
 millinery. 'They were white satin embroidered, the 
 114 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 bottom of the petticoat brozvn hills covered with all sorts 
 of weeds, and every breadth had an old stump of a tree, 
 that ran up almost to the top of the petticoat, broken 
 and ragged, and worked with brown chenille, round which 
 twined nasturtiums, ivy, honeysuckles, periwinkles, and all 
 sorts of twining flowers, which spread and covered the 
 petticoat; vines with the leaves variegated as you have 
 seen them by the sun, all rather smaller than nature, 
 which made them look very light ; the robings and 
 facings were little green banks covered with all sorts of 
 weeds, and the sleeves and the rest of the gown loose 
 twining branches of the same sort as those on the petti- 
 coat. Many of the leaves were finished with gold, and 
 part of the stumps of the trees looked like the gilding of 
 the sun. I never saw a piece of work so prettily fancied, 
 and am quite angry with myself for not having the same 
 thought, for it is infinitely handsomer than mine, and 
 could not have cost much more.'' 
 
 115 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 (1741-1744) 
 
 The chief event of the summer of 1741 was the birth of 
 a son to Mr. and Mrs. Dewes. Mary naturally felt the 
 deepest interest in the new arrival, and took an active 
 part in the preparations for his advent. In April she 
 writes to her sister, 'I have had no trouble about any 
 of your affairs, but much pleasure ; I shall send the box 
 this week, but cannot get the Cicero for you. The band- 
 box, basket, and pincushion you must be so good as to 
 accept from me. I will keep myself perfectly informed 
 of the new dress for the bantling, that I may instruct you 
 when I come to Gloucester. I suppose you will have the 
 cradle lined with dimity or white satin quilted ; I think 
 you must pay the compliment to Gloucester of buying 
 your pins there . . . , 
 
 Anne writes a pretty letter of thanks in which she 
 congratulates her sister upon her arrival at Northend, 
 ' the seat of delight, 1 and goes on, ' But you carry delight 
 with you, and then fancy you find it there. 
 
 ' " Dame of the ruddy cheek and laughing eye. 
 
 From whose bright presence crowds of sorrows fly." 
 
 Health, content, and every blessing attend you, for you 
 were certainly born to cheer as well as charm all your 
 friends. ... I should have begun by answering your 
 116 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 kind packet of the 23rd, where you give so exact an 
 account of all the trouble you have had about my affairs, 
 which I am sure are all done to perfection. There is but 
 one thing I can complain of, and that is the bandbox and 
 the basket. How, my dearest sister, can I want any new 
 proofs of your love when I have so many already grafted 
 into my heart ? . . . No mortal could describe the pleasures 
 of the country as you do, did they not feel them ex- 
 quisitely ; but in your bower you have art joined to 
 nature to make it beyond compare. Here we are all 
 wildness, though not without our beauties ; and though 
 no nightingales reach our peaceful groves, they want not 
 harmony, such as larks, blackbirds, and goldfinches. Our 
 hedges and fields are verdant, and the apple and pear- 
 trees make a very gaudy appearance. I want to send you 
 some of our jocund lambs — they raise our spirits by their 
 innocent liveliness. The cow is grown an absolute beauty, 
 and is more worthy now of the honour of your pencil 
 than when you drew her picture. Our grounds are 
 covered with cowslips, and, in short, we have more spring 
 and freshness than could be expected from so dry a 
 season. But I cannot enjoy our solitude so much as if 
 I were as nimble as usual, and when Mr. Dewes leaves 
 me, who is so kind as to lead me through all the pleasant 
 easy walks, and who enjoys every field and every tree as 
 I do, I shall be obliged to sit still. 1 
 
 It certainly was no more than true that Mrs. Pendarves 
 was a comfort as well as a charm to her friends, since she 
 always seems to have been sent for in sickness or affliction. 
 Writing to Mrs. Dewes on June 18, 1742, she says : ' I 
 was transported with pleasure at receiving so lively an 
 account of yourself as your last letter gave me ; I wanted 
 such a cordial last night, for I had spent four hours in a 
 
 117 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 melancholy way with our amiable duchess, who is under 
 great affliction for my Lord Oxford [her father]. He 
 was taken ill on Saturday night : one of his legs has 
 mortified. He is in no pain at present, and will soon be 
 quite at rest. His daughter, who has, joined to the most 
 lively sensibility, great gratitude and affection for him 
 and my Lady Oxford, suffers a great deal now, and you 
 may think I shall not leave her till her spirits are com- 
 posed. My Lord Oxford has of late been so entirely 
 given up to drinking, that his life has been no pleasure 
 to him nor satisfaction to his friends ; my Lady Oxford 
 never leaves his bedside, and is in great trouble. The 
 scene is painful to all his friends, but he has sense and 
 goodness of heart, and I hope proper reflections on this 
 great occasion, and when the first shock is over, there 
 are circumstances that must be an alleviation to his woes. 
 He has had no enjoyment of the world since his mis- 
 management of his affairs : it has hurt his body and mind, 
 and hastened death. Pray God preserve us from too 
 great anxiety for worldly affairs.'' 
 
 To the year 1742 belongs a composition called 
 A spas-id's Portrait, drawn by ' Philomel. 1 This is a 
 description of Mrs. Pendarves by Mrs. Donnellan, written 
 for the Duchess of Portland. Partial as the portrait 
 probably is, a few extracts from it will give some idea of 
 the original as she appeared in the eyes of her most inti- 
 mate friends. 'You know, madam,' begins this quaint 
 
 composition, ' that Mrs. P is of a most agreeable 
 
 figure, and you may believe that (as it is above twenty 
 years since she was married) the bloom she still enjoys, 
 the shining delicacy of her hair, the sweetness of her 
 smile, the pleasing air of her whole countenance, must 
 have made her the desire of all who saw her, and her 
 118 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 situation (as a widow) must have given hopes to all. She 
 was married extremely young to a man who, neither by 
 his years, behaviour, nor any other quality, was fitted to 
 gain her affection ; she had naturally a great deal of 
 vivacity and liveliness of temper, with the greatest sensi- 
 bility and tenderness of heart. Some of her nearest 
 relations were ever ready to have encouraged her in any 
 tendency towards gaiety. What could have guarded her 
 in these dangerous circumstances ? An innate modesty, 
 an early prudence, and a disarming judgment to know 
 what was right, with virtue, and only to follow what her 
 judgment approved — these were the qualities that have 
 carried her through the gayest companies, the most 
 dangerous scenes, with an unsullied fame, and have made 
 even those who would have undermined her virtue pay 
 homage to it. . . . 
 
 ' I am at a loss what terms to find strong enough to 
 express her general benevolence or her particular tender- 
 ness. ... As her generosity to her friends flows from 
 her benevolence, so does her charity both to the wants 
 and character of her fellow-creatures : the first she relieves 
 with a bounty above her circumstances, and the latter she 
 defends (when decency will permit) with a zeal equal to 
 the amiable principle whence it proceeds. She does not 
 think that being perfect herself gives her a title to 
 animadvert on the faults or laugh at the follies of those 
 less worthy, but would rather choose to seem to want pene- 
 tration to find out the first, or wit to ridicule the latter, 
 than to hurt those who can make no reprisals on her. . . . 
 
 ' To this imperfect sketch of her mind I must add 
 something on her many accomplishments and her great 
 ingenuity ; and here we should wonder how she has found 
 time to make herself mistress of so many ingenious arts, 
 
 119 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 if we did not consider that dress and the adorning of the 
 person, that takes up so great a part of that of most of 
 her sex, only employs so much of hers as the exactest 
 neatness requires, and that she has an activity of mind 
 that never lets her be idle, so all her hours are spent 
 either in something useful or amusing. She reads to 
 improve her mind, not to make an appearance of being 
 learned ; she writes with all the delicacy and ease of a 
 woman, and the strength and exactness of a man ; she 
 paints, and takes views of what is either beautiful or 
 whimsical in nature, with a surprising genius and art. 
 She is mistress of the harpsichord, and has a brilliancy in 
 her playing peculiar to herself; she does a number of 
 works, and of many of them is the inventor, and all her 
 acquaintance are her copyers — happy for them if they 
 would equally endeavour to imitate her virtues. . . . 
 
 ' I could enlarge on all these particulars much more, 
 but I consider I detain you too long from the pleasing 
 entertainment of observing the actions of one whose whole 
 life will better show you that charity and benevolence 
 have been the gales that have filled the sails, and judg- 
 ment and prudence the pilots that have shaped her course.'' 
 
 The long-standing acquaintance between Mrs. Pen- 
 darves and the ' Queen of the Blue-stockings, -1 Mrs. Edward 
 Montagu, seems to have ripened into a more intimate 
 friendship about this time. In September 1742 Mrs. 
 Montagu writes a rather extravagant epistle, which is 
 apparently in answer to a more formal one of Mrs. 
 Pendarves. ' Madam, 1 observes the learned lady, ' cer- 
 tainly makes a magnificent figure at the beginning of 
 a letter, and " Devoted humble servant " brings matters 
 to a polite conclusion; but " Friend " and " Fidget 1 ' sound 
 more affectionatelv and much better from my dear Mrs. 
 120 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Pendarves, though with some people I would be "Madam," 
 " Honoured Madam," 11 " Your Reverence,"" or anything that 
 assured me they would treat me with the most distant 
 respect they could ; but ceremony is the tribute of 
 civility, not of friendship. . . . We are reading Sir 
 Philip Sidney's famous romance, which is far exceeding 
 the exceedingness of the most exceeding imagination ; 
 . . . Seriously, it is a pity that two such excellent 
 geniuses of Queen Elizabeth's day as Spenser and Sir 
 Philip should write of only such feigned and imaginary 
 beings as fairies and lovers; now that the world is not 
 superstitious and credulous, such personages are not so 
 well received as they used to be. 1 
 
 It appears from the correspondence, that in the autumn 
 of this year Mrs. Pendarves had determined to apply for a 
 place at Court, and that interest was being made for her 
 through her powerful friends. The Duchess of Portland is 
 annoyed that Lord Carteret does not show more energy 
 in taking up his cousin's cause, and recommends that 
 Mary should ask help and counsel of Lord Baltimore, 
 who had considerable influence at Court. The affair 
 dragged on, however, and by April of the following year 
 nothing had been settled. In this month an unexpected 
 incident occurred which altered all the lady's plans, and 
 marked the beginning of a new period in her history. 
 On April 23, 1743, Mary writes to her sister in rather 
 a desponding strain because her friends have taken no 
 steps to help her to obtain the much-desired place at 
 Court. On the very same day a letter containing an offer 
 of marriage was being written to her by her old friend 
 Dr. Delany, who had lost his first wife about eighteen 
 months before. The letter is interesting as a specimen of 
 the method in which a sensible, straightforward man who 
 
 121 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 had already passed middle age, made an offer of his hand 
 and heart a century and a half ago. The document, which 
 was written at Dunstable, begins : — 
 
 'Madam, — I am thus far on my way to visit my friends 
 in London. You, madam, are not a stranger to my 
 present unhappy situation, and that it pleased God to 
 desolate my dwelling. I flatter myself that I have still 
 a heart turned to social delights, and not estranged either 
 from the tenderness of true affection or the refinement 
 of friendship. I feel a sad void in my breast, and am 
 reduced to the necessity of wishing to fill it. I have lost 
 a friend that was as my own soul, and nothing is more 
 natural than to desire to supply that loss by the person 
 in the world that friend most esteemed and honoured ; 
 and as I have long been persuaded that perfect friendship 
 is nowhere to be found but in marriage, I wish to perfect 
 mine in that state. I know it is late in life to think of 
 engaging anew in that state, in the beginning of my fifty- 
 ninth year. I am old, and I appear older than I am ; 
 but, thank God, I am still in health, though not bettered 
 by years ; and however the vigour of my years may be 
 over, and with that the vigour of vanity and the flutter of 
 passion, I find myself not less fitted for all that is solid 
 happiness in the wedded state — the tenderness of affection 
 and the faith of friendship. 
 
 ' I have a good clear income for my life, a trifle to 
 settle, which I am ashamed to offer, a good house (as 
 houses go in our part of the world) moderately furnished, 
 a good many books, a pleasant garden (better, I believe, 
 than when you saw it), etc. Would to God I might have 
 leave to lay them all at your feet. 
 
 ' You will, I hope, pardon me the presumption of this 
 122 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 wish, when I assure you it is no way blemished by the 
 vanity of thinking them worthy of your acceptance ; but 
 as you have seen the vanities of the world to satiety, 
 I allowed myself to indulge a hope that a retirement 
 at this time of life with a man whose turn of mind is not 
 wholly foreign to your own, and for that only reason not 
 wholly unworthy of you — a man who knows your worth, 
 and honours you as much as he is capable of honouring 
 anything that is mortal — might not be altogether ab- 
 horrent from the views of your humble and unearthly 
 wisdom. This I am sure of, that if you reject my un- 
 worthy offering, your humility will not let you do it with 
 disdain ; and if you condescend to accept it, the goodness 
 of your nature and generosity of your heart will prompt 
 you to do it in a way most becoming your own dignity, 
 and the security of my eternal esteem and inexpressible 
 gratitude : at all events, let me not be impaired in the 
 honour of your friendship, since it is impossible I can cease 
 to be, with the truest veneration and esteem, madam, 
 your most humble and most obedient servant, 
 
 ' Pat. Delany.'' 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves's reply to this proposal has not been 
 handed down ; but it is evident, from Dr. Delany's subse- 
 quent letters, that she was inclined to accept it, though 
 she made her consent conditional upon the approval of 
 her mother and brother. Mr. Granville was strongly 
 opposed to the match on account of the suitor's lack of 
 family and fortune, while Mrs. Granville appears at first 
 to have taken an equally unfavourable view. Nearly a 
 fortnight later Dr. Delany writes again : — 
 
 'Madam, — Though I can scarcely hold a pen in my 
 hand, I cannot help attempting to inform you that I 
 
 123 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 apprehended from a moment's conversation with your 
 brother this morning in the street that his visit to 
 Northend has made some change in his sentiments in 
 relation to me. I beseech you, madam, leave me not to 
 the caprice of any of your friends, and much less to the 
 mercy of every humour of every friend. Where you owe 
 duty, pay it, and let me rise or fall by the determination 
 of duty ; but let not the decision depend upon the fickle, 
 the uncertain, and the selfish. God has blessed you with 
 noble sentiments, a good understanding, and a generous 
 heart ; are not these, under God, your best governors ? 
 I might venture to pronounce that even a parent has 
 no right to control you at this time of life and under 
 your circumstances, in opposition to these, and a brother 
 has no shadow of right. 
 
 ' Bless me with one minute's conversation before you go, 
 and fix my fate — thus far indeed it is already fixed, that 
 I am, and must for ever be, unalterably yours. 1 
 
 The negotiations dragged on for some weeks longer. 
 On May 12th Dr. Delany writes : ' I have the honour of 
 a letter from Mrs. Granville ; it is not unfriendly, and 
 leaves my happiness where I wish it may rest for ever on 
 this side heaven — at your feet. Might I hope to have 
 one ray of hope conveyed to me in half a line by the 
 bearer ? 
 
 ''May 14. — I have sent the message agreed on to Lady 
 G. by my friend, who undertook it with a zeal and frank- 
 ness that doubles his merit. He delighted me beyond 
 measure by letting me see he honoured you highly, that 
 is almost half as much as I do. It is too much pre- 
 sumption to ask, are you alone ? It is much more so to be 
 happv with you one moment. Adieu ! ' 
 124 * 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Mrs. Pendarves seems to have had considerable difficulty 
 in making up her mind, not so much from want of inclina- 
 tion to accept her elderly lover, as from reluctance to 
 offend her relations. On May 12th, in an unpublished 
 letter to her sister from Merryworth, where she was 
 staying with Lady Westmoreland, she writes : ' If my mind 
 was at full liberty I might give you a description of this 
 place that would amuse you, but at present I cannot 
 collect my thoughts enough to give you any great enter- 
 tainment. I go to town to-day, and I suppose I shall 
 find a letter from my dear mama or from you to the same 
 purpose. My answer to D. D. [Dr. Delany] depends upon 
 that, for it will be doing wrong both by him and myself 
 to keep him any longer in suspense. I shall leave this 
 place at eleven and propose being at home at eight in the 
 evening, and now I will think no more of the grand affair, 
 but scribble on at any rate to tell you a little of this 
 place, and how I have passed my time. I went to St. 
 George's Church on Sunday morning, from thence to 
 breakfast at my Lady Westmoreland's, and at ten my 
 Lord and my Lady, your humble servant, and my Lady's 
 woman, and the little dog set out. The] day hot and 
 dusty till we had left London about ten miles behind us, 
 and then we grew sensible of the sweet country air. I 
 can't say I am charmed with the county of Kent; the 
 road was dull eno\ The approach to Merryworth is very 
 handsome, and the house is the prettiest building I ever 
 saw. . . . 
 
 6 My Lord Westmoreland is a very good sort of a plain 
 man, easy and civil. She is polite, sensible, and ingenious, 
 but too reserved. She is perfect mistress of several lan- 
 guages, particularly Latin ; but has no ostentation of her 
 learning, and rather takes pains to hide it. I could have 
 
 125 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 had great enjoyment of this place had I not had so great 
 an anxiety on my spirits, but I believe Lady Westmoreland 
 has thought me very insensible to all the pleasures here, 
 for I have showed but little relish to them. I shall be 
 better when I am determined, let the determination be 
 what it will.' 
 
 Sir John Stanley undertook to act as mediator with Mr. 
 Granville, and by May 29th the whole affair seems to have 
 been settled, for an unpublished letter from Mrs. Dewes 
 to her sister, with that date, runs as follows : — 
 
 ' My head and heart are so entirely occupied about you, 
 my dearest sister, that I could spend every moment in 
 writing, since I am denied the more perfect way of telling 
 you my present crowd of thoughts and wishes, and I would 
 gratifie the vast desire I have of being with you at this 
 time (and I may say / xoould, having no tyrant to control 
 me, but a kind director to advise, which I hope will be 
 your case), did I not fear the journey would tire me so 
 much that I should give you more pain than pleasure. 
 . . . Mr. Dewes sets out to-morrow and will be in town 
 on Thursday ; he will have the pleasure of speaking for 
 himself to all our friends ; therefore I shall partly leave it 
 to him. Also, to enforce my request of seeing you, my 
 dearest sister, as soon as you have settled all your affairs, 
 and surely I need not say how welcome every friend of 
 yours must be to me, but especially those [sic] whom you 
 have taken to be your first and most particular friend ; 
 and they will come doubly recommended by their own 
 merit, and your distinction of it, and indeed Doctor 
 Delany must make me amends by letting me have a 
 great deal of your company hereafter for retarding my 
 happiness now. The high notion he has of justice as well 
 as tender affections will induce him to it, for you can 
 126 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 inform him how much of the softness and bifirmity of 
 friendship I have, while he will find in you all the strength, 
 ardour, and sentiments that can make the most perfect 
 friend and agreeable companion. Happy, happy man to 
 possess such a treasure ! Surely Providence has given 
 him the great blessing as a reward in this world for the 
 zeal he has show'd in the cause of religion and good of 
 mankind. . . . Alas, my dear Penny, it makes me tremble 
 when you say 'tis three weeks before an answer can return 
 from Ireland ! What an age to an impatient heart 
 anxious for the health and circumstances of a belov'd 
 friend ! But that 's a thought I must not, dare not, trust 
 myself to encourage. . . . 
 
 'How does the eagerness of my thoughts hurry me 
 away from what I ought first to mention, the commands 
 of our dear mama? She sends you her tenderest bless- 
 ing, and desires you will act in every respect as is most 
 suitable to your own affairs, inclination, and the opinion 
 of the friends you are with. I believe I told you so last 
 post, but as I find by your letter last night you are 
 very much pressed to conclude everything before you 
 leave London, she desires you won't perplex yourself 
 about receiving her assent to every particular, when in 
 general she shall be pleased with what you do ; and as 
 long as you have my brother to consult and advise you, 
 I hope you will be easy ; but I wish you would let me 
 lay your scheme. Let all writings be finished as soon as 
 possible, that the Bishop of Gloster may not have left 
 London, for I like his prayers and blessing, which, as soon 
 as you have received, set out for Bradley ; tho 1 our cottage 
 and entertainment is of the most rural kind, the affection 
 it contains, and quiet it admits, will be more agreeable 
 upon such an occasion than a splendid palace with the 
 
 127 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 interruptions of company and equipage. And if my 
 brother Granville will be so good to come with you, I 
 can really make room. Now, I know he will laugh, and 
 think it impossible, but I assure you 'tis not, and I wish 
 he would try ; for Love is a fairy art that can enlarge 
 all things. . . .' 
 
 Mrs. Dewes, when once she had reconciled herself to the 
 match, was evidently determined not to do things by 
 halves, for on June 3rd we find her writing to her future 
 brother-in-law : — 
 
 6 Though it is very natural to like those persons who 
 are valued and distinguished by a favourite friend, yet 
 I must assure you that my respect and admiration you 
 have had long before I could imagine that there would be 
 any other attachment than what is due to uncommon 
 merit ; but I now with great willingness and pleasure 
 will add sisterly affection and esteem, which I dare say 
 must increase upon acquaintance, and as you make her 
 happy who is endeared to me by the strongest ties of 
 love and obligation. If you find she has not entirely 
 misplaced her friendship, and will add yours to it, I shall 
 be vastly glad, and if the most ardent prayers and wishes 
 for your mutual happiness is any degree of merit, then 
 I own I have a great deal, and fear I can claim no 
 other. 
 
 'The just sense you have of my sister's extreme worth 
 gives me infinite delight ; I never thought she could meet 
 with any one sensible enough of those delicacies in her 
 disposition that complete the most amiable part of a 
 woman's character, but now I believe she has ; which will 
 greatly alleviate what I shall suffer from her absence. 
 Her absence is a subject I will not mention, for as I now 
 sincerely desire to promote your happiness, I trust in your 
 128 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 generosity to deprive me of as little of mine as is in your 
 power to avoid ; and shall put Mrs. Pendarves in mind 
 how much joy and satisfaction she retards by staying in 
 London longer than is absolutely necessary. 1 
 
 Although her mother and sister were reconciled to the 
 match, Mary was never completely forgiven by her brother 
 for what he regarded as a mesalliance ; and it is evident 
 that her Granville relations and many of her old friends 
 were disappointed in her, and inclined to look coldly 
 upon her husband. In the days when a woman was 
 regarded as a fool to refuse a good settlement because it 
 was accompanied by a dull and vicious husband, it is 
 obvious that she would not be thought very wise who 
 accepted a man of obscure family and moderate means 
 merely because he happened to be possessed of high 
 moral and intellectual gifts. In her younger days Mary 
 had several times run the risk of offending her family 
 by rejecting the offers of rich and titled suitors. Like 
 her sister, she had shrunk from the idea of marriage with 
 one of the foolish or dissipated young men of fashion who 
 hovered round her ; but, unlike Anne, she had demanded 
 exceptional intellect as well as worth of character in a 
 husband. 
 
 We have seen how strongly she had been attracted by 
 the social charms of Dr. Delany's circle thirteen years 
 before, and how eagerly she had grasped at the friendship 
 of a literary giant like Swift. Now that she had reached 
 middle life, she was beginning to feel the drawbacks of a 
 lonely and objectless existence. That she had been in an 
 unsettled state of mind for some months before she received 
 Dr. Delany's proposal is evident from the fact of her 
 having applied for a place at Court. The permanent 
 friendship and companionship of a good and sensible man 
 i 129 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 held out a prospect of reasonable happiness and usefulness 
 which she found it impossible to resist, and it seems 
 certain that she never repented her marriage with 
 Dr. Delany. 
 
 When once Mrs. Pendarves had made up her mind to 
 the weighty step there was no further delay, and the 
 wedding took place quietly on June 9, 1743. The newly- 
 married couple spent the summer and autumn in paying 
 visits to the bride's mother and sister, and to various 
 friends. It was not until the winter that they returned 
 to Mrs. Delany's house in Clarges Street. Their 
 departure for Dublin was deferred until the spring in 
 order that interest might be made with Mrs. Delany 's 
 powerful relations to obtain an Irish bishopric or deanery 
 for her husband. Writing to her sister from Clarges 
 Street on November 10, Mary says : — 
 
 ' It was a most delightful welcome to my own house to 
 hear so soon from my dear friends at Gloucester. I thank 
 God we have had as good and pleasant a journey as we 
 could possibly have wished for. Mr. Dewes has informed 
 you, I suppose, of his safe arrival in town and adventures 
 on the road. He left Burford about half an hour before 
 us. After a good breakfast of caudle we set forward for 
 Cornbury, and sent a messenger forward to ask leave to 
 go through the park, and to say if my Lord C. was alone 
 we would breakfast with him ; he sent back an invitation 
 to us to dine as well as breakfast, and entertained us with 
 showing us his house, pictures, and park, which indeed 
 are all as well worth seeing as anything in England, 
 especially when he is there to do the honours. . . . The 
 pictures are excessively fine, most of them Vandycks. As 
 Lord Cornbury led me to the carriage, he said that "he 
 was obliged to me that he now belonged to Dr. Delany, 
 130 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and that he had a right to claim his friendship and 
 acquaintance. 11 1 
 
 A long visit was paid to Bulstrode in the course of the 
 winter, and while there Mary received a friendly letter 
 from Mrs. Montagu, in which that lady observes : ' None 
 but the present Mrs. Delany can be so good as the late 
 Mrs. Pendarves. ... I ought to make some apology for 
 not having wrote to you on your marriage, which, though 
 custom seems to ordain, I think when a person chooses 
 such a companion as you have done, it is almost an injury 
 to interrupt their conversation. I am sure my good 
 wishes and regard, and I must say my love for you, have 
 had no intermission. I hope you will receive me into 
 grace again, and allow me to write to you. Dr. Delany 
 is happy in a companion like you, who takes a philo- 
 sopher's and an artist's part in the natural world ; to a 
 mind that comprehends you have a hand that records and 
 represents its beauties. Your drawing-room boasts of 
 eternal spring — nature blooms there when it languishes 
 in gardens; and not only prospects and landscapes are 
 represented by your art, but even human passions and 
 fugitive thoughts are expressed and fixed by the strokes 
 of your pencil. . . . 
 
 * The fine weather we have had lately will have shown 
 Bulstrode to Dr. Delany to better advantage than places 
 usually appear at this time of year ; and I observed in Dr. 
 Delany a greater gout for the country, and a letter taste 
 for rural beauty than I almost ever met with. In his 
 imagination I could perceive the poet, in his reflections 
 the philosopher, and in both the divine.' 1 
 
 While staying at Bulstrode Mrs. Delany suffered from 
 some indisposition, touching which Dr. Delany writes to 
 Mrs. Dewes on January 11, 1744: 'I am set down, my 
 
 131 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 dear sister, with the worst pen and ink in the world, but 
 the best goodwill to write to you, and to inform you that 
 the Pearl is, I thank God, as fair and much more precious 
 than ever. She is at this moment in high mirth with the 
 Duchess ; she eat her dinner with a good relish, and I 
 think she is well disposed for her supper. She is mightily 
 bent on going to town on Friday or Saturday next, and 
 I am at least satisfied she may do it in safety. You who 
 know me, and the treasure under my care, will not be 
 surprised at my solicitude ; indeed, my whole soul is, and 
 has for some time been, divided between prayers and 
 thanksgivings to Almighty God — thanksgivings for the 
 blessing of such a wife, and earnest prayers for its con- 
 tinuance. I am got into a spirit of praying, and cannot 
 indulge it more agreeably than in lifting up my heart to 
 heaven for its choicest blessings on you all.' 
 
 Thanks to the sympathy and encouragement of her 
 husband, Mary now devoted herself more industriously 
 than ever to artistic pursuits. In March she writes to 
 her sister: ' How do you think I have lately been employed? 
 Why, I have made a drama for an oratorio out of Milton's 
 Paradise Lost, to give Mr. Handel to compose to ; it has 
 cost me a deal of thought and contrivance. D. D. [Dr. 
 Delany] approves of my performance, and that gives me 
 some reason to think it not bad, though all I have had to 
 do has been collecting and making the connection between 
 the fine parts. ... I would not have a word of Milton's 
 altered; and I hope to prevail with Handel to set it 
 without having any of the lines put into verse, for that 
 will take from it its dignity. This, and painting three 
 pictures, have been my chief morning occupation since I 
 came to town.' 
 
 Mrs. Dewes 1 little boy was suffering from the ague, and 
 132 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Mrs. Delany sends two infallible recipes — one consisting of 
 a plaster made of ginger and brandy, the other of a spider 
 put into a goose-quill, well sealed and secured, and hung 
 about the child's neck. Either of these, she is convinced, 
 will ease the ague ! In the same month, March 1744, she 
 mentions that the King had sent a message to the two 
 houses to let them know that the Pretender's son was in 
 France, and that they had undoubted intelligence that 
 the French designed an invasion with the Brest fleet. It 
 was expected that a good many disaffected persons in 
 England would join them. A more cheerful piece of news 
 was to the effect that ' Admiral Matthews has beaten the 
 Spaniards, and the French have run away. The storm 
 we had on Friday se'night stranded twelve of the French 
 transports at Dunkirk, and lost them six hundred men. 1 
 
 133 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 (1744-1748) 
 
 A century and a half ago family interest was, of course, a 
 far stronger weapon wherewith to fight the battle of life 
 than it is at the present day, and it was the custom to 
 ask frankly and openly for preferment. Mrs. Delany was 
 the child of her age, and she was particularly anxious 
 that her ' D. D." 1 should be promoted, partly, no doubt, 
 because she felt that as a dignitary of the Church he 
 would be raised in the estimation of her family. In 
 a letter, dated January 19, 1744, she tells her sister that 
 she has written a 'comical letter 1 to their kinsman, 
 Lord Gower, in which she said that she was so reasonable 
 as to have only three petitions to prefer at one time. 
 
 'I then mentioned Miss Granville,'* she continues, 
 ' recommended Mr. Dewes, and desired his interest with 
 Lord Chesterfield to get the Bishopric of Kildare for 
 D. D. My letter was a long one, and I have not time to 
 transcribe it. Sometimes a letter of that kind is better 
 remembered and listened to than a more serious one. 
 You shall know the answer as soon as I get one. I am 
 very eager about the Bishopric of Kildare ; there is no 
 preferment in Ireland so desirable for us, though many 
 much greater in income, but this will give us the liberty 
 of spending all the time we are in Ireland at Delville, 
 and we may visit England more frequently than other- 
 wise we should be able to do. I have written on this 
 134 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 subject to Lady Chesterfield, Lady Westmoreland, and 
 Lord Cornbury. I think I have a pretty good chance of 
 succeeding, if I don't speak too late. 1 
 
 The coveted bishopric was not obtained, but early in 
 May 1744 Dr. Delany was preferred to the Deanery of 
 Down. On May 8, Mrs. Delany writes to Mrs. Dewes : — 
 
 * I told you that I should not write to you by this post, 
 and I should have been as good as my word, but that the 
 Dean of Dozon desires me to make his compliments to 
 you ! and to present his duty to my mother. . . . Yester- 
 day, just as dinner came on the table, Lord Carteret came 
 in. He desired I would send the servants away, and 
 when they were gone, he told D. D. he was come from the 
 Duke of Devonshire to offer him the Deanery of Down, 
 and that the first small bishopric that fell in he might 
 have if he afterwards cared to leave Down ; but the 
 Deanery is much better than any small bishopric, and we 
 are well pleased with the possession of it.'' 
 
 The following month, after a farewell family gathering 
 at Calwich, Mr. Granville's place, the couple started for 
 Ireland, and established themselves at Delville, Doctor 
 Delany's villa near Dublin. On June 18, Mrs. Delany 
 writes : ' How impatient I have been to let you know how 
 happily we have performed our journey; and to crown 
 all, I was welcomed to Delville by your dear letter of the 
 14th, a happy omen. On Sunday evening we removed 
 from Chester to Park Gate, in hopes of sailing next morn- 
 ing early, but the wind was contrary, and we were 
 obliged to remain there all Monday. On Tuesday we 
 went on board the yacht. Though the wind was not very 
 fair, the weather was so good that the captain said we 
 might make our passage very well, which I thank God we 
 did, and landed yesterday between eight and nine. We 
 
 135 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 did not come directly to Delville, it being so late, but 
 packed away, bag and baggage, and went to Mrs. Fordel's, 
 who expected us to lie at her house ; she is a very well- 
 bred, friendly, agreeable woman, and I was perfectly easy 
 with her. On Tuesday the day was so fine that I sat on 
 deck the whole day, and eat a very good dinner, and an 
 egg for my supper, and worked and drew two or three 
 sketches ; nothing could be more pleasant, but we went 
 slowly, not having wind enough. In the evening the 
 weather grew more favourable for our sailing, but made 
 the ship roll, and we were very ill all night, and the next 
 day till about five, that they came to the cabin, and 
 said we were just entering the bay of Dublin; upon 
 which we got up, and were soon cured by the good 
 weather and the fair prospect of landing. 
 
 * Every word of my dearest sister's letter touches my 
 heart, and is most faithfully returned with sincerest love. 
 Do not say I am " lost to you " ; I cannot bear that expres- 
 sion, for I am everywhere yours. As soon as I examined 
 my house to-day, I laid out an apartment for you, and I 
 hope you will provide the same for me at Welsbourne. 
 My love and blessing to the dear happy boy that flourishes 
 under your charge."' 
 
 Mrs. Delany was evidently highly pleased with her new 
 possessions, for in another letter she gives a minute 
 account of the house, and paints the glories of her own 
 apartments, the drawing-room hung with tapestry, the 
 crimson mohair curtains and chairs, the large glasses with 
 gilt frames, the marble tables and japan chests. ' I wish 
 you just such a chariot as ours," 1 she writes on July 12, 
 ' because I never went in so easy a one." 1 Then follows a 
 more particular description of the house, with the sizes of 
 all the principal rooms. The newly married couple were 
 136 
 
MRS.1DELANY 
 
 chiefly occupied in receiving and paying calls, entertaining 
 and being entertained, until the end of August, when 
 they set out to take possession of their Deanery of Down. 
 There was then no Deanery house, so they stayed at 
 Mount Panther, a place about five miles from Down. 
 On September 10, Mrs. Delany writes : ' Yesterday the 
 Dean preached at Down, and we women went to the 
 church of our poet, Dr. Matthews, two miles off. . . . 
 D. D. is very busy in making a plan for the Deanery 
 house. He is very much shocked at the present jail at 
 Down, and is determined to have it altered, and to have 
 one built with separate apartments for the men and 
 women, and a chapel ; he gives a hundred pounds towards 
 it, and endows the chapel with twenty pounds a year for 
 a clergyman to give them a service.*' 
 
 On her return to Delville for the winter, Mrs. Delany 
 found plenty to occupy her time, what with her social 
 and domestic duties in addition to her artistic pursuits. 
 Dublin has always been noted for its hospitality, and in 
 the last century this seems to have taken the form of heavy 
 dinners and suppers. The menu for one of the Delville 
 dinners is a curiosity in its way, and may be transcribed 
 for the benefit of modern housewives. It consisted of — 
 
 Turkeys endove. Partridge. 
 
 Boyled leg of mutton. Sweetbreads. 
 
 Greens, etc. Collared pig. 
 
 Soup. Creamed apple tart. 
 
 Plum pudding. Crabs. 
 
 Roast loin of veal. Fricassee of eggs. 
 
 Venison pasty. Pigeons. 
 
 No dessert to be had. 
 
 The letters of this winter are chiefly of domestic 
 interest, and treat of Dublin personages who are quite 
 
 137 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 unknown to fame. Sir John Stanley's death about 
 Christmas time must have been a great shock to the 
 niece who had spent so much of her time with him. 
 Writing on January 3, Mrs. Delany says : * What you 
 say of Sir John Stanley is very just. I have the satisfac- 
 tory consciousness of having acted a right part towards 
 him ; I have from my childhood received many favours, 
 and. to the day of my death I shall gratefully remember 
 him ; but my brother has had it more in his power to 
 show his regard, and for many years we know he gave 
 up the world for his sake, and I know he deserved to be 
 more distinguished. Mr. Monck had not the manners to 
 give my brother or me notice of Sir John's illness or death. 
 He will be obliged to sell Northend ; I wish it may be 
 bought by somebody I love, but I would rather have it in 
 possession of anybody than Mr. M. 1 
 
 About the end of March the Delanys set out again for 
 Down, remaining at Mount Panther until June, when 
 they moved into Holly Mount, a house within easier reach 
 of the town. On June 8, 1745, Mary writes to her 
 mother : — 
 
 ' Dearest Madam, — Though I did not expect it, the 
 sight of your hand gave me a great deal of pleasure, and 
 my sister must wait till next post, for I can no longer 
 defer from making my best acknowledgments to you, 
 madam, for the favour of yours ; but you overwhelm me 
 with shame when you make any acknowledgment of 
 thanks to me ; you make me feel how much more I owe 
 you than I can ever pay ; and all I can do is to take 
 every opportunity of showing you I gratefully remember 
 your goodness, though I am unable to make a sufficient 
 return. ... I don't at all doubt my sister's notableness ; 
 138 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 I think she has blended in her composition, beyond any- 
 body I know, the excellencies of a good economist and 
 the elegance of a fine lady, without any of her foibles. . . . 
 ' I gave my sister an account of our journey to Mount 
 Panther, which is six miles from hence. We came here last 
 Tuesday, and brought all the family with us, and found 
 the house in very good order, and a good dinner ready. 
 The house is very indifferent, but the situation pleasant. 
 The Dean has agreed for the building of his new church, 
 and is very busy visiting all the families in his Deanery, 
 which will be a laborious work. It is very strange, but 
 the poor here have been so neglected ; they say they never 
 saw a clergyman in their lives but when they went to 
 church. . . .' 
 
 Writing to her sister a few days later, she observes : 
 ' Never did any flock want more the presence and assist- 
 ance of a shepherd than this Deanery, where there has 
 been a most shameful neglect ; and I trust in God it will 
 be a very happy thing for the poor people that D. D. is 
 come among them. The church of Down is very large, but 
 it is not a quarter filled with people ; the curate has been so 
 negligent as never to visit any of the poor of the parish ; 
 and a very diligent and watchful dissenting minister has 
 visited them on all occasions of sickness and distress, and 
 by that means gained great numbers to the meeting. 
 D. D. has already visited a great number ; when he has 
 been with all the Protestants, he designs to go to the 
 Presbyterians, and then to the Papists; they bless him 
 and pray for him wherever he goes, and say he has done 
 more good already than all his predecessors. The last 
 Dean was here but two days in six years ! . . . 
 
 ' As Down is three miles from hence, and we cannot go 
 
 139 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to prayers in the afternoon if we dine at home, the Dean 
 designs to dine every Sunday in Down. There is a 
 public-house kept by a clever man who was butler to one 
 of the deans ; he has a very good room in his house, and 
 is to provide a good dinner, and the Dean will fill his table 
 every Sunday with all the townsmen and their wives by 
 turns, which will oblige the people, and give us an oppor- 
 tunity of going to church in the afternoon without fatigue. 
 
 ' We rise about seven, have prayers and breakfast over 
 by nine. In the mornings D. D. makes his visits, and I 
 draw ; when it is fair, and he walks out, I go with him ; 
 we dine at two ; in the afternoon when we can't walk out, 
 reading and talking amuse us till supper, and after supper 
 I make shifts and shirts for the poor naked wretches in 
 the neighbourhood. . . . 
 
 'I am very sorry to find here and everywhere people 
 out of character, and that wine and tea enter where 
 they have no pretence to be, and usurp the rural food of 
 syllabub, etc. But the dairymaids wear large hoops and 
 velvet hoods instead of the round tight petticoat and 
 straw hat, and there is as much foppery introduced in 
 the food as in the dress, — the pure simplicity of the 
 country is quite lost."' 
 
 In August the Delanys returned to Delville, and Mary 
 writes : ' This place is now in perfect beauty, and the 
 weather has been so fine that every hour of the day I could 
 spare from business and meals has been spent in the 
 garden, chiefly in Eearly Dewes 1 bower, where one of our 
 tame robins welcomed us home, and flew to the Dean's 
 hand for the bounty he used to bestow. I am very glad 
 you do not expect me till spring ; for as it is impossible 
 for me to leave this place before October, I think it would 
 be safer and better not to go till April. I am come home 
 140 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to a hurry, and have found many things to settle in my 
 household that all housekeepers are sometimes troubled 
 with — servants, accusations that must be cleared and are 
 very teasing, though I don't torment myself with those 
 affairs ; but as our family is large, and consequently 
 expensive, it requires both my care and attention. . . . 
 
 i The yachts are to go this day for my Lord Lieutenant, 
 so in a few days I suppose we shall have them. I design 
 to make my first visit in an Irish stuff manteau and petti- 
 coat, and a head the Dean has given me of Irish work, the 
 prettiest I ever saw of the kind. He has made me also a 
 present of a repeating watch and a diamond ring; the 
 diamond is a brilliant, but such gems are only valuable 
 when they are testimonials of a kind and affectionate 
 heart."' 
 
 At the time of their marriage Dr. Delany had promised 
 his wife that she should pay a visit to her relatives in 
 England every year if practicable. There had been some 
 talk of a journey to England in the autumn of this 
 year 1745, but the insurrection in Scotland made it 
 unsafe to cross the seas. The ' ugly rebels, 1 as Mrs. 
 Delany calls them, having apparently quite forgotten the 
 former Jacobite sympathies of her own family, continue 
 to cause her a good deal of anxiety, partly lest they 
 should penetrate as far as Gloucester, partly lest they 
 should interfere with her journey to England in the 
 spring. In the course of October she writes to assure 
 Mrs. Dewes that Ireland remains unaffected, and that 
 though it had formerly been a place of great confusion 
 and disturbance, people in general were very well disposed 
 towards the present Government. 
 
 ' My mind is now much better satisfied,' 1 she observes, 
 'for we are now very well prepared for the rebels, the 
 
 141 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Dutch troops and our own being landed, and the Duke 
 by this, I suppose, being returned home. We have 
 reason to fear a chastisement, as I believe there never was 
 more impiety in the world than at this time ; but I hope 
 there may be ten righteous men found to save the city, 
 and that our next accounts from England may bring us 
 more comfortable news of all danger being past. ... I 
 own I am under no apprehension that a ragged, ill- 
 disciplined, and irregular body of men, though pretty 
 numerous, should stand long against our forces when 
 they have once met, unless Providence design to chastise 
 us for our impiety, which, indeed, is to be feared.' 
 
 On October 22, Mrs. Delany describes a visit with 
 which Delville was honoured by the Lord Lieutenant 
 and Lady Chesterfield : ' Yesterday they sent over early 
 in the morning to know if we were disengaged, as they 
 would breakfast. To work went all my maids, stripping 
 covers off the chairs, sweeping, dusting, etc., and by eleven 
 o'clock my house was as spruce as a cabinet of curiosities, 
 and well disposed on their Excellencies, who commended 
 and admired, and were as polite as possible. They came 
 soon after eleven in their travelling coach. When break- 
 fast was over, they made me play on the harpsichord, 
 which I did with an ill grace. When that was done, we 
 went into the garden, and walked over every inch of it ; 
 they seemed much surprised with the variety they found 
 there, and could not have said more civil things had it 
 been my Lord Cobham's Stowe. They staid till near two, 
 and my Lord Lieutenant and the Dean had a great deal 
 of conversation which I believe was mutually agreeable. 
 
 ' Pray have you ever seen the four sermons that were 
 published by Swift last year ? They were very fine, and 
 worth the reading. Have you read Bishop Sherlock's 
 142 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 sermon on the Rebellion ? It is charming. There is just 
 published a humorous pamphlet by Swift, I think it is 
 called " Advice to Servants " ; it is said to be below his 
 genius, but comical. I wrote you word of his death. It 
 was a happy release to him, for he was reduced to such a 
 miserable state of idiotism that he was a shocking object, 
 though in his person a very venerable figure, with long 
 silver hair and a comely countenance ; for being grown fat, 
 the hard lines which gave him a harsh look before were 
 filled up. . . . 
 
 ' November 23. 
 
 'Never were people so earnest after news as we, 
 and yet no news can we hear that may be depended 
 on. The taking of Carlisle by the rebels is the last 
 we have had ; some lament it, others more polite say 
 it will prove a trap to them. Pray God send us peace ; 
 but it seems removed far from us. I have not heard from 
 my brother Granville a great while. Is it not a shame 
 to say I hope he is not engaged in my Lord Gower's 
 regiment ? Should I not have a more martial and public 
 spirit ? If giving up my own life would save my country 
 from ruin, I think I could do it, but to hazard a dear 
 friend's at an uncertainty, I cannot bear, so I hope in God 
 he is safe from any dark hazard. . . . 
 
 ' On the Princess of Wales' birthday there appeared at 
 Court a great number of Irish stuffs. Lady Chesterfield 
 was dressed in one, and I had the secret satisfaction of 
 knowing myself to be the cause, but dare not say so here ;" 
 but I say, "I am glad to find my Lady Chesterfield's 
 example has had so good an influence." The poor weavers 
 are starving — all trade has met with a great check this 
 year.'' 
 
 In spite of the continued anxiety about the rebels, the 
 
 143 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 winter passed quietly and busily away for the good couple 
 at Delville. Mrs. Delany occupied herself in making 
 shell-work ornaments for her house and garden, reading 
 the Lives of the Admirals and Sir Thomas Hanmer's 
 edition of Shakespeare, copying a portrait of the Duchess 
 of Mazarin, and attending a course of lectures on philo- 
 sophy. A propos of the latter she writes : ' I am ex- 
 tremely pleased with the philosophy lectures, but am also 
 cruelly disappointed. I hoped to have been made a wise 
 woman by them, but, alas ! they only serve to show my 
 own ignorance. I am surprised that knowledge should 
 make anybody vain ; I think it rather serves to humble 
 the mind, since to those who have drunk deepest of the 
 draught of knowledge there must remain so many things 
 unaccountable." 1 
 
 In the early spring a daughter was born to Mrs. Dewes, 
 who was named Mary, after her aunt. ' I would have her 
 like me, 1 writes that lady, ' in everything that is worthy 
 of your regard, but to endear her equally to me I wish 
 most heartily that she may resemble my own dearest 
 sister. You remember Madame de Sevigne : Mary must 
 be my Pauline.' 
 
 The eagerness to see her niece, whom from the first 
 she regarded as her ' own little girl, 1 naturally increased 
 Mrs. Delany "s anxiety to revisit England. Towards the 
 end of May the couple set sail in the government yacht, 
 and for the next five months the sisters had the happiness 
 of being together at Wellesbourne, the country house to 
 which the Dewes had lately removed from their first home 
 at Bradley. The sisters seem to have been together 
 until October, when the Delanys made a round of visits 
 before going to town. The first was to Lord Cornbury, 
 where Mary met again her old playfellow the Duchess of 
 144 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Queensberry, who, she says, is most gracious and enter- 
 taining. After a long visit to ' the amiable Duchess ' at 
 Bulstrode, the Delanys settled down for the rest of the 
 winter in a lodging in Pall Mall, where Mary soon found 
 herself surrounded by her old friends, with the doors of 
 the fashionable world open before her. On January 15, 
 1747, she writes : ' To-day I dine with the Claytons, and 
 in the afternoon go to Lady Sunderland's. To-morrow 
 I go to St. James's to pay my devoirs to the Duchess of 
 Portland; dine at home; in the afternoon go to the 
 Duchess of Norfolk, who is ill; to the Countess of 
 Kildare ; and finish at the Duchess of Queensberry "s, who 
 is to have a hurricane. On Sunday I go to Carlton 
 House to pay my salutations to their Royal Highnesses, 
 and in the afternoon to Mrs. Montagu. I go to-morrow 
 in my Irish green damask and worked head ; on the 
 Birthday in a flowered silk on a pale deer-coloured 
 ground — the flowers, mostly purple, are mixed with 
 white feathers. I think it extremely pretty, and very 
 modest. . . . 
 
 'I was, as I proposed, at Court yesterday, and was 
 most graciously received. The King asked me how I 
 liked Ireland, the Duke did the same. I dined at home, 
 and in the afternoon my brother came ; he looks grave, 
 and lives much at home, though he is much courted for 
 his company abroad. 
 
 'January 21. 
 
 ' Yesterday we made our appearance at Leicester House. 
 The Duchess of Portland was in white satin. She had 
 all her fine jewels on, and looked handsomer than ever I 
 saw her in my life, and in my eyes outshone in every 
 respect all the blazing stars of the Court. There was not 
 much finery, new clothes not being required on this Birth- 
 k 145 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 day. They curl, and wear a great many tawdry things, 
 but there is such a variety in the manner of dress that I 
 don't know what to tell you is the fashion ; the only 
 thing that seems general are hoops of an enormous size, 
 and most people wear vast winkers to their heads. They 
 are now come to such an extravagance in these two 
 particulars, that I expect soon to see the other extreme 
 of thread-paper heads, and no hoops. The reigning 
 beauty, I think, among the very young things, is Lord 
 Carpenter's daughter ; and since Lady Dysart was fifteen, 
 I have not seen anything so handsome ; but the prize of 
 beauty is disputed with her by Lady Emily Lenox. She 
 is indeed like " some tall, stately tower, 11 while the other 
 is "some virgin queen's delicious bower. 11 In the after- 
 noon I made a visit to the Percivals and Lady Westmore- 
 land. Coming out from her house, as soon as I got into 
 my chair, the chairman fairly overturned it — fairly, I may 
 say, for not a glass was broken, nor was I the least hurt. 
 I own I was a little terrified, and Lord Westmoreland, 
 hearing a bustle at the door, found me topsy-turvy. He 
 insisted on my getting out of the chair, which I did, 
 drank a glass of water, sat half an hour in his library, 
 and went on to Lady Frances Carteret. 
 
 'January 29. 
 'As to what you propose of my coming to Welles- 
 bourne, I will compromise the matter as well as I can. 
 D. D. intends going to the Bath, but he is so good as to 
 say that I can spend that time among my friends ; so what 
 I propose is to go directly to Gloucester, make a visit of 
 a fortnight or three weeks there, and bring my mamma 
 and your little boy to Wellesbourne. I cannot think of 
 your hurrying yourself about, and I am sure Gloucester 
 is not a place you will wish to visit when you have not an 
 146 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 indispensable call ; but I must go there, for it would not 
 be right towards my mother not to do it. God knows 
 how long I may be permitted to pay her that duty ; pray, 
 was she not seventy-five the last birthday ? . . . I think 
 you are quite right to make a sack ; they are easier and 
 handsomer than any other dress for a lady in your circum- 
 stances; you may wear a sack with a mob under your 
 chin if you please. Scotch caps are all the mode, and 
 are worn by all ages ; they are put on with a couple of 
 pins, and that is a great recommendation for any dress. 
 
 'The Duchess of Portland was saying the other day 
 that nobody had invited her to a drum, upon which I 
 sent her ten cards in feigned hands — from Mrs. Guzzle in 
 Swallow St., Mrs. May of Bloomsbury, Mrs. Spratt of 
 Billingsgate, Mrs. Swift of Fleet St., Mrs. Alestub of 
 Brewer St., Mrs. Plummer of Leadenhall St., and Mrs. 
 Selwine of Sackville St. At first she could not tell what 
 to make of such a rigmarole, but at last fixed it on 
 Greene and the Duke.' 
 
 In May the Delanys, after a farewell visit to Welles- 
 bourne, returned to their Irish home. The one drawback 
 to Mary's happiness in her second marriage was the sepa- 
 ration that it involved from her sister; and the letters 
 from Chester, where some days had to be spent in await- 
 ing the Government yacht, are written in a melancholy 
 mood. ' Had our wheels been as heavy as my heart when 
 I left Wellesbourne, 1 she writes, ' we should have made a 
 tedious journey. To leave a friend one loves must at all 
 times be painful ; if anything can render it less so, it is 
 the consolation of such a friend as bears me company, 
 who not only thinks it reasonable for me to grieve, but 
 himself sincerely grieves too. -> 
 
 But Mary was not the woman to waste overmuch time 
 
 147 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 in vain regrets, and the first letters from Delville are 
 pitched in a much more cheerful key. The house and 
 gardens are described as being in perfect beauty, three 
 beautiful young deer have been added to her stock, Tiger 
 the cat knew her at once, and she has a very thriving 
 cow and calf. Altogether, life was not without its 
 compensations. 
 
 The chief event of the summer of 1747 was the death 
 of old Mrs. Granville, who, tradition says, died on her 
 knees in the act of saying her prayers. Her loss was very 
 deeply felt by both her daughters, who were devotedly 
 attached to her. It is not necessary to give any detailed 
 account of the Delany menage during the following year. 
 The quiet life at Delville was alternated with visits to 
 Down or to friends in the country. In August 1748 they 
 stayed with their old acquaintances Bishop Clayton and his 
 wife at the palace, Clogher, and explored the surrounding 
 country ; while in October they paid a more interesting visit 
 to Dangan, Lord Mornington's place. Lord Moraington's 
 only son, Garrett Wesley was, it will be remembered, the 
 father of the great Duke of Wellington, and Mrs. Delany "s 
 godson. She writes from Dangan on October 15 : ' This place 
 is really magnificent ; the old house that was burnt down 
 is rebuilding. The gardens and park consist of six 
 hundred Irish acres. There is a gravel walk from the 
 house to the great lake, which contains twenty-six acres, 
 and is of an irregular shape, with islands for wild-fowl. 
 There are several ships, one a complete man-of-war. My 
 godson is governor of the fort and Lord High Admiral ; 
 he hoisted all his colours for my reception, and was not 
 a little mortified that I declined the honour of being 
 saluted. ... He [Master Wesley] is a most extraordinary 
 boy ; he was thirteen last month, he is a very good scholar, 
 148 
 

MRS. DELANY 
 
 and whatever study he undertakes he masters it most 
 surprisingly. He began with the fiddle last year, he now 
 plays everything at sight; he understands fortifications, 
 building of ships, and has more knowledge than I ever 
 met with in one so young. He is a child among children, 
 and as tractable and complying to his sisters, and all who 
 should have any authority over him, as the little children 
 can be to you.'' 
 
 149 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 (1749-1752) 
 
 In the spring of 1749 the Delanys paid their periodical 
 visit to England, and during their stay the letters arc 
 naturally infrequent. The summer was spent at different 
 country houses, and the winter in town, where Mrs. 
 Dewes came to stay with her sister in February. 
 There are no specially interesting allusions in the letters 
 this winter, and in May the Delanys returned to Dublin. 
 Mary writes on May 18 : 'A year's absence makes it 
 necessary to have a thorough inspection into every- 
 thing, and I am settling my family in a different way 
 from what it was formerly, which obliges me to be 
 Mrs. Notable, and to do much more than I ever did in 
 my life, and I hope it will agree with me. 1 In July they 
 went as usual to Down for the summer months, returning 
 to Delville in September. 
 
 Mrs. Delany's letters often contain accounts of the 
 books she is reading, and her opinion of them. During 
 this year she' read The Man of Honour, Guadentio di 
 Lucca, which was attributed to Bishop Berkeley, and 
 Roderick Random ; but the book which seems to have 
 impressed her most, and to which she makes most frequent 
 allusion, is Clarissa Harloive. She was the more interested 
 in this work, probably, because Richardson was an ac- 
 quaintance and occasional correspondent of Anne Dewes. 
 150 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 In the last century people found time, apparently, not 
 only to read, but to re-read novels in eight volumes. In 
 a letter dated October 1750, Mrs. Delany writes : — 
 
 'I am now as deeply engaged with Clarissa as when 
 I first was acquainted with her, and admire her more and 
 more. I am astonished at the author ; his invention, his 
 fine sentiments, strong sense, lively wit, and, above all, his 
 exalted piety and excellent design in the whole. I find 
 many beauties escaped me in my first reading ; I was so 
 much interested and run away with by the story that I 
 did not give due attention to many delightful passages. I 
 am just got to her triumph after his villainy; how poor 
 and despicable a figure does he make upon their first 
 meeting, and how noble and angelic is her appearance 
 and behaviour ! The contrast between flagrant guilt 
 and injured, though unconquerable, innocence is most 
 judiciously and beautifully drawn. My heart was almost 
 broke with her frenzy, but that scene afterwards com- 
 posed and revived my spirits, and made me almost rejoice 
 in her distress. 1 
 
 In this year Mrs. Delany received a petition from Mr. 
 Ballard, a litterateur of some repute in his day, that she 
 would allow him to dedicate to her the second part of 
 his work, Memoirs of Learned Ladies. This consisted of 
 short biographical sketches of literary ladies who flourished 
 from the fourteenth to the eighteenth century, and was 
 published by subscription. Mrs. Delany was most anxious 
 to refuse the honour, but her husband persuaded her to 
 consent, on the ground that the author would be deeply 
 mortified by her refusal. ' I hate the sort of compliments 
 an author thinks himself obliged to pay the person he 
 dedicates to, 1 she writes to Mrs. Dewes, 'and the poor 
 man will be distressed, for he will think himself under a 
 
 151 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 necessity to say fine things; so to ease him of further 
 trouble, and myself some confusion, I insist on your 
 sending the enclosed dedication to him, for I shall abso- 
 lutely take it ill of him if he says anything in a higher 
 strain. 1 
 
 The following was the dedication composed by Mrs. 
 Delany herself : — 
 
 'Madam, — I am very much obliged to you for your 
 indulgence in giving me leave to dedicate part of this 
 work to you ; and, as I am informed you were resolved 
 against addresses of this nature, I will not tire you with 
 encomiums on your family, your person, or your qualifica- 
 tions, as my intention in publishing the book is to raise 
 the mind above the common concerns of this world ; and 
 I hope the examples here set before you will animate you 
 to good and great actions, and then your obligation to me 
 will be at least equal to mine to you. -1 
 
 Mr. Ballard did not adopt this very sensible dedication, 
 but published his work with the following much more 
 commonplace inscription : — 
 
 ' To Mrs. Delany, the truest j udge and brightest pattern 
 of all the accomplishments which adorn her sex, these 
 Memoirs of Learned Ladies in the seventeenth and 
 eighteenth centuries are most humbly inscribed by her 
 obedient servant, George Ballard. 1 
 
 A propos of an allusion to some 'sugar- plum knotting ' 
 which Mrs. Delany promises to send her sister, Lady 
 Llanover gives the following interesting account of 
 some of the needlework which was executed in such vast 
 quantities and such artistic fashion by the two sisters : — 
 ' The editor has in her possession a set of covers for chairs, 
 152 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 made of linen of the most brilliant dark blue, which she 
 has never been able to match. They are bordered with a 
 beautiful pattern by Mrs. Delany of oak leaves, cut out 
 in white linen, and tacked down with different sorts of 
 knotting, which also forms the veining and the stalks. 
 There are constant allusions in these letters to sending 
 thread for knotting and to " sugar-plum knotting, 11 which 
 was used for the ornamental parts, being highly embossed- 
 Mrs. Delany and her sister were in the habit of using 
 their knotting-shuttles (as was the custom of the time) 
 at those periods of relaxation when the German ladies use 
 their knitting-needles, and the English ladies do nothing ; 
 and it is almost incredible the quantity of knotting, in 
 various patterns and colours, which was left by Mrs. 
 Delany, and which still exists, being the remains of the 
 produce of tea-table leisure hours, although such a large 
 supply was required for the works which she completed in 
 this peculiar style. 1 
 
 But Mrs. Delany found time in those elastic days for 
 many other occupations besides needlework. ' I am going 
 to make a very comfortable closet, 1 she writes in October 
 1750, ' to have a dresser, and all manner of working tools, 
 to keep all my stores for painting, carving, gilding, etc., 
 for my own room is now so clean and pretty that I cannot 
 suffer it to be strewed with litter, only books and work, 
 and the closet belonging to it to be given up to prints, 
 drawings, and my collection of fossils and minerals. My 
 storeroom fits only an idle mind that wants amusement ; 
 yours serves either to supply your hospitable table, or 
 gives cordial and healing medicines to the poor and sick. 
 Your mind is ever turned to help, relieve, and bless your 
 neighbours, while mine, I fear, is too much filled with 
 amusements of no real estimation ; and when people 
 
 153 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 commend any of my performances, I feel a consciousness 
 that my time might have been better employed. . . . 
 
 ' November 17. 
 ' I have begun a Madonna and Child for the chapel, 
 which is a great undertaking. I have dead-coloured the two 
 faces. ... I am angry with you that you sent my letters 
 to Mr. Richardson. Indeed, such careless and incorrect 
 letters as mine are to you should not be exposed ; were 
 they put in the best I could put them into, they have 
 nothing to recommend them but the overflowing of a 
 most affectionate heart, which can only give pleasure to 
 the partial friend they are addressed to. . . .' 
 
 The great interest that Mrs. Delany took in her sister's 
 children, and more especially in little Mary, led her to 
 bestow much thought upon the question of education, and 
 there are several passages in the letters of this period that 
 contain the results of her reflections upon this subject. 
 In such matters she was no mild sentimentalist, but shared 
 the opinions of the age in regard to a firm, though tem- 
 perate system of discipline. In November 1750, when 
 Mary was not quite five years old, she writes : ' I don't 
 fear your prudence in the management of your children. 
 Love, coupled with fear, are the bands that most confine 
 them to what is right. A wrong and over-indulgent 
 conduct of parents to their children is the greatest cruelty 
 to them; for if they never meet with contradiction till 
 they are of age to engage in the great concerns of life, 
 how will they be able to sustain the contradictions, dis- 
 appointments, and mortifications they must encounter in 
 this world? But a perverse, injurious manner of contra- 
 dicting and thwarting them, and very severe corrections 
 for trifles, does them, I believe, as much harm as a uni- 
 154 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 versal indulgence. Happy are my dear children, who I 
 hope are born to prove the golden mean : it is, I am 
 persuaded, to a very tender mother the most self-denying 
 principle to refuse that indulgence, but great is the virtue 
 and strong the obligation laid on her to correct her child 
 steadily and properly.' 
 
 In a later letter she continues : ' About Mary ; it is 
 of much consequence to men and women to receive all 
 instructions early; I am sure as many years after they 
 are sixteen is not so advantageous to them as so many 
 months before that age. Very young minds are susceptible 
 of very strong impressions ; they have nothing of conse- 
 quence to draw off their attention. As they grow older, 
 and mix with company, the whole crowd of youthful 
 vanities breaks in upon their minds, and leaves but little 
 room for instruction. If Pauline prove handsome, which 
 indeed I think she bids fair for, it is in vain to hope that 
 she can be kept ignorant of it ; all that the wisest friend 
 can do for her is to teach her of how little value beauty 
 is — how few years it lasts, how liable to be tarnished, and 
 if it has its advantages, what a train of inconveniences 
 also attend it ; that it requires a double portion of dis- 
 cretion to guard it, and much more caution and restraint 
 than in one that is not handsome.' 
 
 Mrs. Delany was probably thinking of her own agitating 
 youthful experiences when she penned the above, as well 
 as a subsequent passage on the subject of marriage. 
 'Why,' she demands, 'must a woman be driven to the 
 necessity of marrying? — a state that should always be a 
 matter of choice ! And if a young woman has not 
 fortune sufficient to maintain her in the station she has 
 been bred to, what can she do but marry? And to 
 avoid living either very obscurely or running into debt, 
 
 155 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 she accepts of a match with no other view but that of 
 interest. Has not this made matrimony an irksome prison 
 to many, and prevented its being that happy union of 
 hearts where mutual choice and mutual obligation make 
 it the most perfect state of friendship. 1 
 
 During the winter of 1750-51 Mrs. Delany was employed 
 in painting her Madonna, and also in making shell-flowers 
 for the ceiling of the chapel. Her chief reading con- 
 sisted of Carte's Life of the Duke of Ormonde, and The 
 Economy of Human Life, which she thinks a very pretty 
 book, all but the chapter on Love. On November 24, 
 she is hoping to go to the rehearsal and the performance 
 of Handel's Messiah, and adds : ' A new, and therefore 
 favourite performer, Morella, is to play the first fiddle 
 and conduct the whole. I am afraid his French taste 
 will prevail ; I shall not be able to endure his introducing 
 froth and nonsense in that sublime and awful piece of 
 music. What makes me fear this will be the case is that 
 in the closing of the eighth Concerto of Corelli, instead of 
 playing it clear and distinct, he filled it up with frippery 
 and graces that quite destroyed the effect of the sweet 
 notes and solemn pauses that conclude it. 1 
 
 This fear proved to be unfounded, for in a letter to her 
 brother a few weeks later, she says : ' I was at the rehearsal 
 and performance of the Messiah ; and though voices and 
 hands were wanting to do it justice, it was very tolerably 
 performed, and gave me great pleasure — 'tis heavenly. 
 Morella conducted it, and I expected would have spoiled 
 it, but I was agreeably surprised to find the contrary ; 
 he came out with great applause. I thought it would 
 be impossible for his wild fancy and fingers to have kept 
 within bounds ; but Handel's music inspired and awed 
 him. He is young, modest, and well behaved, I am told ; 
 156 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and were he to play under Mr. Handel's direction two or 
 three years, would make a surprising player. We are so 
 fond of him here that were it known I gave this hint I 
 should be expelled all musical society, as they so much 
 fear he should be tempted to leave us.' 
 
 At Christmas she writes to her sister : ' D. D. employs 
 me every hour in the day for his chapel. I make the 
 flowers and other ornaments by candle-light, and by 
 daylight, when I don't paint, put together the festoons 
 that are for the ceiling, and after supper we play one 
 pool at commerce. Our everyday reading is still Carte's 
 History of the Duke of Ormonde. He is one of the 
 greatest heroes I ever read of, such courage, prudence, 
 loyalty, humanity, and virtues of every kind make up his 
 character; but the sufferings of King Charles the First, 
 though here but in part related, break one's heart. I 
 think the periods too long ; there is a repetition of facts 
 that might have been avoided ; and it is upon the whole 
 rather tedious, but the subject is so interesting that it 
 carries one along. Our Sunday reading is the Minute 
 Philosopher. What a work of genius is that ! How 
 beautiful the style, and for sense and wit surely nothing 
 can exceed it ! I thought it at first reading more abstruse 
 than I do now, though there are very few pages but what 
 you will perfectly understand with close attention.' 
 
 In the letters for January 1751 there are allusions to the 
 illness or deaths of two of Mrs. Delany's former lovers. 
 'I saw in the newspapers that Lord Baltimore is ill,' she 
 writes. ' Is he dead ? He had some good qualities ; I 
 wonder where his poor sister Hyde is ; I wish he may 
 have done something for her. I fear his poor children 
 at Epsom have been sadly neglected. . . . Last Thursday 
 satisfied all my desires, and brought me one of your 
 
 157 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 charming letters, and one from my brother, with an 
 account of Lord Weymouth having left his sisters cP^OOO 
 a piece. You should, and I suppose you did, wear mourn- 
 ing a fortnight for Lord Weymouth. 
 
 'March 16. 
 
 ' On Monday, madam, I give a sumptuous ball ! Seven 
 couple of young things ! Oh that my little dewdrops were 
 here to hop with them ! The ball begins at eleven in the 
 morning, and is to last till half after two ; then dinner, and if 
 not tired an hour's dancing afterwards. I had the joy of 
 your letter last Monday, as I was going to the town to buy 
 mourning for the Prince of Wales. I sincerely lament his 
 death. He had amiable qualities, and I pity the Princess 
 of Wales excessively. She can have no friend to make up 
 such a loss, and royalty is denied many comforts which sub- 
 jects enjoy. The dignity of her station requires her to 
 appear in, and receive crowds, when her mind is oppressed 
 with sorrow which would rather seek the darkest shade. 1 
 
 The summer passed in the usual quiet fashion, and 
 winter and its gaieties came round again. It is very 
 seldom that there is even a spark of malice or un- 
 charitableness in Mrs. Delany's letters ; but in one, dated 
 November 2, 1751, she indulges in a little sarcasm at 
 the expense of a neighbour, probably her old acquaint- 
 ance, Mrs. Clayton. ' I suppose I must give you an 
 account of the Birthday,'' she writes. ' I went to Madam 
 in my coach at twelve o'clock ; she was in her sedan with 
 her three footmen in Saxon green, with orange-coloured 
 cockades, marched in state — I humbly followed. A stop 
 kept me about half an hour on the way ; she got to the 
 castle without interruption, and went on to the drawing- 
 room directly. Can you tell why she desired me to go 
 158 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 with her ? I can. She was superb in brown and gold 
 and diamonds ; I was clad in the purple and white silk I 
 bought last year in England, and' my littleness set off her 
 greatness ! These odd fancies make me laugh and not a 
 bit angry ; only rather self-satisfied that I feel above doing 
 the things that make others so despicable. 1 
 
 Perhaps this same lady was in Mrs. Delany's mind 
 when, in a letter written during the same month to the 
 Duchess of Portland, she says : ' I am now a very old 
 woman, though not yet threescore ; but as to my knowledge 
 of the little world that has come under my observation, 
 I am convinced that the greatest happiness we can enjoy 
 is to be able to command our temper — it is better to us 
 than riches or honour, or even health ; without it we 
 suffer more pain and anxiety by our fretfulness than many 
 distempers give us, and torment and vex everybody about 
 us. Is not this true, my dearest Lady Duchess? It is 
 conjecture in me, but in you certainty." 1 
 
 About this time Mrs. Delany's favourite novelist, Mr. 
 Richardson, was engaged upon Sir Charles Grandison, the 
 book wherein he purposed to portray a man who should hold 
 up as shining an example to his sex as Clarissa was supposed 
 to have done to hers. ' I fear it will be a long time,' she 
 writes, 'before Mr. Richardson's good man is produced, 
 and I am afraid his health will suffer from his too close 
 attention to it. He has undertaken a very hard task, 
 which is to please the gay and the good, but Mrs. 
 Donnellan says as far as he has gone he has succeeded 
 wonderfully. . . . Donnellan commends Miss Mulso's 
 letters, but does not so well like the young woman ; 
 that is, she admires her sense and ingenuity, but thinks 
 her only second-rate as to politeness of manner ; and that 
 Richardson's high admiration for her has made him take 
 
 159 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 her as a model for his greatest characters, and that is the 
 reason they are not really so polished as he takes them to 
 be.' Miss Hester Mulso,a noted blue-stocking, married a 
 son of Mrs. Delany's old friend, Sally Chapone, and pro- 
 duced in her Letters to a Young Lady on the Improvement 
 of the Mind what was regarded as the standard work on 
 female education of her time. 
 
 In the same year the publication by Lord Orrery of a 
 Life of Swift filled the hearts of both the Delanys with 
 indignation. Mary especially was, as she observes, made 
 ' so angry at the unfriendly, ungenerous manner of Swift's 
 being treated by one who calls him his friend that it quite 
 prejudices me against the book, and casts a cloud over all 
 its merit ; every failing is exposed, every fault is magni- 
 fied, every virtue almost either tarnished or concealed ! 
 I have not time to tell you my particular objections, 
 which are indeed very numerous. But one thing I must 
 observe, that Lord Orrery makes no mention of Swift's 
 singular, wise, and extensive charities, yet calls himself 
 his jriend ! He tells of his resentment, with the strongest 
 reflection on his pride, at his sister's marrying a tradesman, 
 but does not tell you he allowed her £25 a year to his 
 death, yet calls himself his friend ! He calls his being 
 void of all envy " pride of his own superior talents," yet 
 calls himself his friend. Such a friend that, Brutus-like, 
 gives the deepest and surest wound. ... I must write 
 and provoke or entreat Sally [Mrs. Chapone] to take him 
 in hand, and expose this coxcomb of a jriend, as he 
 presumes to call himself. ... I am serious in what 
 I say about Sally's answering this book, but she must 
 be for ever concealed, and not discover the author to 
 be a woman.'' 
 
 In the end it was Dr. Delany himself who took Lord 
 160 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Orrery in hand, and wrote an able answer to the Life, and 
 a warm defence of his dead friend. 
 
 The year 1752, which should have been made happy 
 by a visit to England, opened rather gloomily for the 
 couple at Delville. Mary writes to her sister on January 3 : 
 'I have often thought of late my lot most singularly 
 happy, more so than is generally met with in this world 
 of woe ; a husband of infinite merit, and deservedly most 
 dear to me ; a sister whose delicate and uncommon friend- 
 ship makes me the envy of all other sisters ; a brother of 
 worth and honour; and a friend in the Duchess of Portland, 
 not to be equalled, besides so many other friends, that 
 make up together the sum of my happiness. But what 
 a debt have I to pay ! I am truly sensible of my own 
 unworthiness, and that all these advantages are not to be 
 enjoyed without a considerable alloy ; and as my inmost 
 thoughts have ever been laid open to the sister of my 
 heart, I must now unburden my mind. D. D.'s love to 
 me, I think, is as unquestionable as any mortal love can 
 be, and the generosity of his sentiments as well known ; 
 but he is most extremely harassed with his lawsuits, and 
 another is commenced against him by a mistake committed 
 on his side of a form at law by the Presbyteries — those 
 querulous people ! Thank God, his fortune is too good to 
 suffer very considerably by these attacks, but suffer in 
 some degree we must, and it is absolutely necessary we 
 should act with caution and prudence till we are so happy 
 as to get out of the jaws of the law — that beast of prey ! 
 There is murmuring at his not living more at his Deanery, 
 and being absent so long from it when we go to England. 
 This, you may believe, is very vexatious to me, as it is on 
 my account he goes. 1 
 
 The conclusion of the whole matter was that Mary 
 L 161 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 had made up her mind that it was her duty to give up 
 the longed-for visit to England that year. It was a 
 tremendous sacrifice; and her husband, knowing how much 
 it meant to her, had not found the heart to suggest it to 
 her, though it seemed almost impossible that he could 
 leave home for so long a time while his affairs were in 
 such a troubled state. This time of trial brought out 
 the best qualities of both husband and wife. Dr. Delany 
 suggested that his wife should go to England for a few 
 months while he went alone to his Deanery at Down, but 
 this unselfish proposal she resolutely rejected. Then, 
 unknown to her, he wrote to Mrs. Dewes, urging in the 
 kindest and most generous terms that she and her husband 
 should come and spend the summer at Delville, bringing 
 with them their little girl. 
 
 * These are the terms, 1 he explains, ' upon which I desire 
 and expect you : I will send Mr. Gavan's coach and six 
 from Chester for you, which shall set you down safe at 
 Park Gate, where I will appoint the best vessel on the 
 coast, the Minerva, with the civillest and soberest master, 
 to meet you at your own day, and convey you hither 
 before the 14th of May next (I trust in God) in safety, 
 and in that season with little or no sickness. 
 
 'You must come at my expense — I will receive you 
 upon no other terms — and then you shall go home at your 
 own ! I won't be at the expense of one penny to get rid 
 of you ! I insist on your staying with us at least three 
 months, and shall be most heartily rejoiced and highly 
 obliged for your staying as much longer as you can. . . . 
 I have no more to add, but that if I live till to-morrow 
 I shall be sixty-seven years old ; and as I can't go to 
 England this year, I leave you to make the inference and 
 application; and shall only add for myself that if my 
 162 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 dear brother Dewes and you will grant me this request, 
 I shall be to the last day of my life to both your most 
 affectionate, faithful, and obliged brother, friend, and 
 servant. 1 
 
 But, alas ! the journey to Ireland was looked upon as 
 a tremendous undertaking in 1752, and the Dewes had 
 four young children, as well as an estate to superintend, 
 so that they felt obliged to decline Dr. Delany's invitation. 
 When once the matter was finally settled, Mary seems to 
 have borne the disappointment with her usual philosophy, 
 and the letters soon regain their wonted cheerfulness, in 
 spite of the lawsuits that were dragging their slow 
 length along. 
 
 163 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 (1752-1756) 
 
 The theatre was always a popular institution in Dublin, 
 and patronised by sober dignitaries of the Church as well 
 as by the laity. 'Mrs. Woffington is much improved, 1 
 writes Mrs. Delany towards the end of January, ' and did 
 the part of Lady Townley last Saturday better than I 
 have seen it done since Mrs. Oldfield's time. Her person 
 is fine, her arms a little ungainly, her voice disagreeable, 
 but she pronounces her words perfectly well, and she 
 speaks sensibly. Mr. Sheridan 1 is a just actor, but rather 
 a dull one ; he is going to give a play gratis to raise a 
 sum of money to erect a monument to Swift. . . . We 
 are reading Mr. Fielding's Amelia. Mrs. Donnellan and I 
 don't like it at all; D. D. won't listen to it. It has a 
 more moral design than appears in Joseph Andrews or 
 Tom Jones, but has not so much humour ; it neither 
 makes one laugh or cry, though there are some very 
 dismal scenes described, but there is something wanting 
 to make them touching. Our next important reading 
 will be Betsy Thoughtless [by Mrs. Hey wood]; I wish 
 Richardson would publish his good man, and put all 
 these frivolous authors out of countenance. . . . 
 
 ' February 15. 
 * Last Tuesday we dined at the Bishop of Elphin's ; he 
 1 Thomas Sheridan. 
 
 164 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 is the son of an Archbishop of Tuam who has published 
 some very good works, one I believe you have read — The 
 Gentleman \s Religion. The Bishop of Elphin is one of 
 our most considerable men, and has only one daughter, 
 who will be a vast fortune, and is brought up like a 
 princess ; she is a fine young woman about nineteen ; all 
 the young men of consequence, they say, have already 
 proposed, but her father declares he will listen to no 
 proposal till she is twenty-one. We had a magnificent 
 dinner, extremely well dressed and well attended, and a 
 dessert the finest I ever saw in Ireland. The Bishop lives 
 constantly very well, and it becomes his station and 
 fortune, but high living is too much the fashion here. 
 You are not invited to dinner to any private gentleman 
 of a thousand a year or less that does not give you seven 
 dishes at one course, and Burgundy and Champagne ; and 
 these dinners they give once or twice a week. I own I 
 am surprised how they manage, for we cannot afford any- 
 thing like it with a much better income than they. 1 
 
 The lawsuit, which concerned some paper relating to 
 the property of his first wife, that Dr. Delany, in the 
 innocence or ignorance of his heart had destroyed, still 
 occupied the Courts, and in July 1752 a decision adverse 
 to the Dean was given ; but the Lord Chancellor's decree 
 settling the amount to be refunded was put off until the 
 winter term, and meanwhile there were offers from the 
 other side of a compromise. Later, the Dean appealed 
 against the decision of the Dublin Court, and the judgment 
 was reversed ; but it is needless to follow this unfortunate 
 affair in detail. Suffice it to say that it cost the Delanys 
 much, not only in money, but in many years of anxiety 
 and suspense. The necessity for retrenchment was the 
 most trivial of its consequences in the eyes of Mrs. 
 
 ' 165 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Delany, but it was intolerable to her that the least 
 shadow of a slur should be cast upon the fair name of 
 her husband. 
 
 The summer passed uneventfully at Down ; and after 
 the return to Delville, Mrs. Delany writes : ' We are 
 now in daily expectation of our sentence ; I wish I could 
 prevent D. D.\s anxiety on my account. I am perfectly 
 well, and one consolation we have, which no malice of our 
 enemies can destroy — a conscience perfectly clear of charge. 
 Till our affairs are determined we keep quiet, and see only 
 our particular friends. ... I am much obliged to little 
 Jacky for the first efforts of his genius as a painter, and 
 have put his pretty sketch safely by. I am sorry you are 
 not so pleased with riding double as single ; it is warmer 
 and safer, and I hope you will pursue it, as it certainly 
 has always agreed with you. . . . 
 
 ' Poor Handel ! how feelingly must he recall the total 
 eclipse. 
 
 ' " Total eclipse ! no sun, no moon ! 
 All dark amidst the blazing noon ! 
 O glorious light ! no charming ray 
 To glad my eyes with welcome day ; 
 Why thus deprived thy prime decree? 
 Sun, moon, and stars are dark to me." 
 
 You know, Handel became blind in 1 751 ; I hear he has 
 now been couched, and found some benefit from it. 
 
 ' December 30. 
 ' Now that we have had time to think over what passed 
 on Saturday, it does not appear so bad as at first. [The 
 Chancellor, previous to his final decree, ordered that an 
 account should be taken of all the effects in the con- 
 troversy, and this settling of accounts was expected to 
 last over three or four years.] The necessary delay may 
 166 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 give time for some happy turn in our affairs ; and though 
 in appearance we are hardly dealt with, God of His infinite 
 mercy may intend it for a blessing. As to loss of fortune, 
 I trust we can very well bear that ; and should they take 
 all that came from Mrs. Tennison, we shall still have 
 more left than a reasonable competency.* 1 
 
 The next year the long-deferred visit to England took 
 place. Writing in May 1753, Mrs. Delany says : 'I had 
 yesterday a letter from my brother. He proposed setting 
 out from Calwich the next day, in order to be in London to 
 meet me the latter end of June. I hope to be able to answer 
 his challenge. Mrs. Donnellan has a spare room in her 
 house for D. D. and me, and we shall accept her offer 
 when we have rested and revived ourselves at dear Welles- 
 bourne. My dearest sister, how fair and sunshiny every- 
 thing looks when that is in prospect. . . . 
 
 * I must speak of my poor Lord Hyde, whose death has 
 indeed shocked me extremely, though I hope and believe 
 he was so good that it makes the sudden stroke less dread- 
 ful. I most heartily pity the Duchess of Queensberry ; but 
 if it gives her a serious and right way of thinking, the event, 
 melancholy as it is, may prove a happiness to her ; and as 
 she has good sense and many good qualities, I hope she 
 will make a proper use of this great chastisement. If I 
 could write an eulogium as elegantly as Madame de Sevigne, 
 I should not quit this subject till I had done justice to 
 the excellencies of Lord Hyde ; I can only admire and 
 love his memory. . . . 
 
 'There is nothing I wish so much for Mary, next to 
 right religious principles, as a proper knowledge of the 
 polite world. It is the only means of keeping her safe 
 from an immoderate love of its vanities and follies, and 
 of giving her that sensible kind of reserve which great 
 
 167 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 retirement converts either into awkward sheepishness or 
 forward pertness.' 
 
 In July the Delanys are in town for a short time to 
 consult Lord Granville 1 and other influential friends about 
 the appeal in their lawsuit, and then the sisters spent 
 four happy months together at Wellesbourne and Chelten- 
 ham. In November Mrs. Delany writes from Bulstrode, 
 where she found the Duchess of Portland and her daughters 
 engaged on a variety of ingenious works. 'Her daughters, 1 
 writes Mary, 'are as sweet and engaging as possible; Lady 
 Elizabeth and Lady Henrietta are very lively and easy in 
 manner, and under no further restraint before the Duchess 
 than to Avatch her looks and motions, and instantly to 
 obey them. Lady Margaret is more silent and reserved, 
 but there is something very gentle and sensible in her look, 
 and I hope she will grow ; Lord Titchfield has a great 
 reputation at school, and he behaves himself very well in 
 every respect ; Lord Edward is a lovely child, but shows 
 not the same genius to learning his brother does. . . .' 
 
 There is a good deal in the letters about the Duchess's 
 improvements in house and grounds, about her wonderful 
 menagerie, and most of all about Richardson's latest 
 masterpiece, which had lately appeared. 'I am all im- 
 patience for you to read Sir Charles GrandisonJ writes 
 Mrs. Delany on November 20. ' Oh, how you will admire 
 him ! but I dare not particularise anything for fear of 
 forestalling ; I have only read two volumes ; don't tell 
 me your opinion further than that till I have read more.' 
 
 The sisters were evidently enjoying the book at the 
 same time, and they must have read quickly, for on 
 December 3 Mary writes again — 
 
 ' And now for Sir Charles ; we have talked about the 
 1 Lord Carteret became Earl Granville in 1744. 
 
 168 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 beginning, and agree in our opinion. From the time that 
 Sir Charles rescues Harriet, the story and characters rise, 
 his hero is as faultless as mortal hero can be : I wish, 
 indeed, we could match him ; there is grace and dignity 
 in everything he says and does. No wonder, with the 
 addition of so high an obligation as that of saving her 
 from the vile Sir Hargreave, Harriet's heart should be 
 so deeply engaged ; how natural are all her doubts and 
 apprehensions ! . . . Emily's innocence and childishness 
 make an agreeable variety, but she ought not to have 
 been in love ! She was too young to be won by the 
 shining virtues of her guardian ; they should rather have 
 given her an awe for him as a parent, unless he had not 
 been the man he was, and had courted her love, for he 
 treats her as a favourite child. ... As to the Italian 
 story, it is one of the finest things I ever read in my life ; 
 was ever such a superb family described ? What a divine 
 creature Clementina ! What a madness hers ! Was ever 
 Christian fortitude put to a greater trial considering her 
 religion ? And great as Sir Charles is, Clementina has a 
 superiority over him ; his distress is touching to the last 
 degree, but everywhere he keeps up his character nobly. 
 . . . The style is better in most places than that of 
 Clarissa, but nothing can ever equal that work.' 
 
 The only blot upon Sir Charles's character, in Mrs. 
 Delany's opinion, was the fact of his consenting to have his 
 daughters brought up Catholics. ' Had a woman written 
 the story,'' she observes, ' she would have thought the 
 daughters of as much consequence as the sons, and when 
 I see Mr. Richardson, I shall call him to account for that 
 faux pas ; but, on the whole, it is a most excellent book, 
 calculated to please and inform all ages.' 
 
 In January 1754 the Delanys took lodgings in Suffolk 
 
 169 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Street, and on the 29th Mrs. Delany writes: 'On Saturday 
 the Dean was perfectly well, only complained of a weakness 
 and watering in his left eye. We dined at home, and in 
 the afternoon I went to see Mrs. Donnellan. On my return 
 the Dean w r as just as I left him ; when I met him at 
 breakfast his left eye was much fallen, and his mouth 
 drawn a little awry. I immediately apprehended what 
 it was ; but as he did not perceive it himself, I was loath 
 to take notice of it ; and as he had promised to read 
 prayers to Mrs. Donnellan, I sent to Dr. Heberden, her 
 physician, to meet us there. The Dean read prayers very 
 well, but his voice was not quite clear, which he took notice 
 of himself; and in looking in the glass saw what indeed 
 had terrified me to such a degree that I hardly knew what I 
 did. I thank God no bad symptom has increased ; he was 
 cupped on Sunday night, and had a perpetual blister laid 
 on, and takes valerian and other mixtures. It is un- 
 doubtedly an attack of the palsy, but everybody assures 
 me it was as slight as such an attack could be, and that 
 by such early care I need not doubt his recovery. The 
 law matters are now as nothing to me ! My whole mind 
 is set on the care of his health. 1 
 
 Fortunately, the disease soon yielded to treatment, and 
 Mary had the comfort of her sister's presence during this 
 period of anxiety. In May Mrs. Dewes returned to Welles- 
 bourne, and Mrs. Delany writes : ' Though I hope to follow 
 my dearest friends soon, I could not part with them without 
 the utmost reluctance. My dear and most amiable sister 
 came to me when my heart was full of woe and gave me 
 consolation. Many things happened when you were here 
 to alarm and distress you, and is it not true that the 
 obligation is all on our side ? I thank God the scene has 
 now changed for a more hopeful and cheering one. 1 
 170 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 There was a probability of an appeal against the 
 decision in the lawsuit ; and as Dr. Delany's presence was 
 required in England, it was decided that he and his wife 
 should go to Ireland for the summer months, and return 
 to London in the autumn. They set out in June, taking 
 with them Sally Chapone the younger, Mrs. Delany's 
 god-daughter, as well as the Rambler and the Adven- 
 ture?- to entertain them on their journey. In October 
 they were back at Bulstrode, and from thence went to 
 Whitehall, where they stayed until they could take 
 possession of a house in Spring Gardens, which Dr. Delany 
 had bought and presented to his wife. On November 10 
 Mrs. Delany writes : ' Mrs. Donnellan has been so full of 
 our Brunette's [Sally Chapone] ungrateful behaviour to 
 Mr. Richardson and his family that she talks of nothing 
 else. How well my dear sister observes on her want of 
 true humility. God grant it to her, for the best medicine 
 in the apothecary's shop cannot be of so much use to her 
 as that would be to her mind and body. Mr. Richardson 
 was with me yesterday, and I expostulated with him on 
 Sally's account ; he is really very angry, but kindly so ; 
 and if she writes a kind letter of excuse to Mr. Richard- 
 son, and soon after to Miss Patty, all will be well. It is 
 only a kind of jealous fit; how that little fiend, jealousy, 
 torments the best minds sometimes ; but perfect generous 
 love surely casteth out jealousy as well as fear. . . . 
 
 'Yesterday, after chapel, the Duchess brought Lady 
 Coventry [one of the beautiful Gunnings] to feast me, 
 and a feast she was. She is a fine figure, and vastly hand- 
 some, notwithstanding a silly look sometimes about her 
 mouth ; she has a thousand airs, but with a sort of 
 innocence that diverts one. Her dress was a black silk 
 sack, made for a large hoop, which she wore without one, 
 
 171 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and it trailed a yard on the ground ; she had on a cob- 
 webbed lace handkerchief, a pink satin long cloak, lined 
 with ermine mixed with squirrel skins; on her head a 
 French cap that just covered the top of her head, of 
 blond, that stood in the form of a butterfly, with its wings 
 not quite extended, frilled sort of lappets crossing under 
 her chin, and tied with pink and green ribbon — a head- 
 dress that would have charmed a shepherd ! She has a 
 thousand dimples and prettinesses in her cheeks, her eyes 
 a little drooping at the corners, but fine for all that. . . . 
 Lord Dartmouth has just been to see me, and engaged 
 me to visit his lady. I said I thought myself too old to 
 visit young ladies ; he laughed at me, and said, " Try, and 
 if she don't like you, I hope I may keep up my acquaint- 
 ance with an old friend I like so much." He is Sir Charles 
 Grandison ! How charming is politeness ! His ways are 
 just his mother s. 1 
 
 The new house was a great source of interest and 
 pleasure, and Mrs. Delany was eagerly looking forward to 
 the time when she might receive her sister and brother-in- 
 law within her own walls. ' The house is small,"' she 
 writes, ' but very pretty and convenient, and in a delight- 
 ful situation. If I don't fill my letter with " my house," 
 you may be obliged to me. ... It is pleasant to be 
 possessed with things that please one ; it is like viewing a 
 fine picture through a magnifying glass — one enjoys every 
 part of it. I was not born to be a philosopher ; Nature 
 has not thrown in enough indifference in my composition, 
 nor has art attained it ; in short, I like, love, and dislike 
 with all my might, and the pain it sometimes costs me is 
 recompensed by the pleasure. - ' 
 
 At Christmas the whole party were at Bulstrode, when 
 smallpox broke out, Lord Edward Bentinck, the second 
 172 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 son of the house, being the first victim. Ideas on the 
 subject of infection and quarantine were primitive enough, 
 the more so because smallpox was regarded very much as 
 measles are in our own day, that is, as a disease which 
 few can hope to escape, and which it is as well to get over 
 in early youth. The three young daughters were given 
 their choice, to stay where they were, or go to Whitehall, 
 and they all begged to stay, declaring that they should be 
 miserable at leaving their mother. No attempt was 
 made to prevent the spread of infection, and the three 
 girls took the disease, one after the other. All recovered 
 in time, though their complexions suffered, in spite of the 
 application of a decoction of rotten apples recommended 
 by Mrs. Dewes. At this time inoculation was occasionally 
 practised, but it was regarded as a risky operation, and 
 was frequently attended with fatal results. 
 
 By the beginning of February all were well again, and 
 Mrs. Delany is able to send other news than that of the 
 sickroom. 'The prettiest story I heard of the mas- 
 querade at Somerset House," 1 she writes, ' was of Miss 
 Allen, Lady Carysforfs sister, who is a lively sort of a 
 fairy, not very conversant with the gay world, and never 
 goes to Court ; she was at the masquerade, and had never 
 seen Lady Coventry ; it was at the time that many were 
 unmasked, but she had her mask on. She went to Lady 
 Coventry, and looking at her very earnestly, said, " I have 
 heard a great deal of this lady's beauty, but it far sur- 
 passes all I have heard. 1 '' " What," said Lady C, "did 
 you never see me before ? " A young man that stood by 
 said to the mask, " Are you not an Englishwoman ? " — " I 
 don't know whether I may not be called an English- 
 woman, but I am just come from New York upon the 
 fame of this lady, whose beauty is talked of far and near, 
 
 173 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and I think I came for a very good purpose.'' 1 Many 
 lively entertaining things Miss Allen said on the occasion. 
 Lady Coventry walked off, but the young man would not 
 part with Miss Allen, and said, "Come, pull off your 
 mask ; I must see who has entertained us so well, 11 and 
 made her sit down. " Hands off, 11 said she, for he offered 
 to take her mask ; " you know that *s impertinent. 11 Lady 
 Carysfort beckoned to her, and said, " Do you know it is 
 Prince Edward 1 you are talking to ? " Miss Allen, in great 
 confusion, thought it was best not to seem to know, and 
 by degrees disengaged herself ; but when she had pulled 
 off her mask he had watched her, and came up and took 
 her by the hand, and asked her if she knew the supper- 
 room. She said she did not, upon which he led her 
 through three rooms, everybody making way ; and when 
 they came to the supper-room, he addressed himself to 
 the chief of the company, and desired " that young lady 
 might be particularly taken care of, and that he was 
 extremely sorry he was obliged to sup in another party, 1 ' 
 and retired, without making discovery of himself to her. 
 Was not that pretty and polite ? 1 
 
 In March 1755 Mrs. Delany was at last established in 
 her own house in Spring Gardens, where she had the 
 pleasure of a visit from her sister. The return to 
 Ireland was again postponed, and in the summer the 
 two sisters were together at Bath. In November Mrs. 
 Delany writes from Longleat : ' Lord Weymouth 2 met us 
 at the door, and said immediately, "Where is Mrs. 
 Dewes? 11 He is perfectly polite and easy in his own 
 house, very conversable and cheerful ; you would think he 
 had been master of the house for years instead of for 
 
 1 Second son of Frederick, Prince of Wales. 
 
 2 The son of her old admirer. 
 
 174 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 weeks. Whoever is to be the happy mistress of Long- 
 leat will have a very fair lot. I was quite overcome on 
 seeing Lady Weymouth's picture in her Spanish dress ; I 
 could not help calling to mind what mirth, what happi- 
 ness seemed to surround her the last time I was in this 
 house. She was good and innocent, and no doubt is now 
 in a happy state. I hope her son will soon recover the 
 splendour of his house in every respect. 1 
 
 In December the letters contain many details of the 
 terrible earthquake at Lisbon, which was generally looked 
 upon as a Divine judgment. 'Is it possible, 1 writes Mrs. 
 Delany, ' such terrible distresses can be read without some 
 awful thoughts ? Can those wretches at White's read 
 them like common paragraphs of news? Surely no, at 
 least it is to be hoped they cannot ; and yet I fear those 
 who stand least in need of such warnings are most 
 touched by them.'' From a friend, whose business partner 
 was among the survivors, she learns that ' the dreadful 
 shrieks and agony of the people were most heartrending ; 
 thousands were crushed to death in the churches, and 
 those who had often taken refuge there as murderers were 
 crushed in the ruins. . . . The earth did not open, but 
 the houses were thrown down by the trembling of the 
 earth ; and the conflagration which lasted till the whole 
 city was destroyed was occasioned by violent lightning, 
 and not fires in the houses, as they have all stucco floors/ 
 
 The month of December was spent at Bath, where 
 Mrs. Delany was ordered to drink the waters. Among 
 the visitors was the great Lord Chesterfield, who had 
 lately had an attack of apoplexy, owing, it was supposed, 
 to the anxious life he had led among gamesters. ' What- 
 ever effect it (gaming) may have had upon his constitu- 
 tion,'' observes Mrs. Delany, 'it is a severe reproach and 
 
 175 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 blemish to his character as a man possessed of superior 
 talents to most of his sex, so good an understanding, such 
 brilliancy of wit, so much discernment in seeing the 
 foibles of others, and when he thought his example of 
 consequence (as when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland), so 
 great a command of himself for nearly a whole year. 
 Is it not strange that he should fall a sacrifice to that 
 desperate vice gaming ? ' 
 
 In January 1756 we hear a great deal about the 
 splendours of the Granvilles 1 cousin, Mr. — , afterwards 
 
 Lord Spencer, and his bride. After a detailed 
 
 account of the glories of the young wife's finery and 
 jewels, Mrs. Delany continues : ' All these things I have 
 just seen at Mrs. Spencer's, who looked at them with the 
 greatest unconcern, though not insensible to their merit 
 as fine of their kind, and pretty things, but as the least 
 part of her happiness. A begging letter was given to her 
 at the same time which brought tears into her eyes, and 
 made her appear with much more lustre than the 
 diamonds. Her jointure, I hear, is four thousand a year. 
 I don't know what her pin-money is, I suppose in propor- 
 tion to everything Mr. Spencer has done, which has shown 
 his nature to be good and generous. Lady Cowper says 
 he may spend thirty thousand a year without hurting 
 himself. There were magnificent things at Althorpe and 
 nobody could have acquitted himself with more dignity, 
 or given more universal content than Mr. Spencer did. 
 When his birthday came he told Mrs. Pointz it was his 
 firm resolution to make Miss Pointz his wife as soon as 
 he was master of himself; that now he was, he entreated 
 her leave to be married next day. You may imagine the 
 request was granted ; and it was so managed that nobody 
 in the house, though near five hundred people, knew any- 
 176 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 thing of the matter but Lord and Lady Cowper, Mrs. 
 Pointz, and her eldest son, and it was not declared till the 
 Saturday after. On the 20th of December, after tea, the 
 parties necessary for the wedding stole by degrees from 
 the company into Lady Cowpers dressing-room, where 
 the ceremony was performed, and they returned different 
 ways to the company again, who had begun dancing, and 
 they joined with them. Afterwards they retired to their 
 different apartments. Miss Pointz and her sister lay from 
 their first going to Althorpe in the best apartment, and 
 Miss Louisa resigned her place on this occasion. The 
 French waiting-woman, an old prude, who was not let into 
 the secret (and was, I suppose, sent to bed, the girls saying 
 they would attend upon themselves), was so shocked the 
 next morning when she went in to open the windows on 
 seeing Mr. Spencer put his head out of the curtains, and 
 ask what o'clock it was, that she ran roaring and crying 
 to Mrs. Pointz, and told her, " You see what you have got 
 by delaying this marriage; my young lady is undone." 
 Mrs. Pointz teased her a little while, then told her the 
 truth, and the marriage was not known till the Saturday 
 following. They have been most graciously received at 
 Court, so there is as much happiness in that family as 
 mortal heart can contain. 1 
 
 Mrs. Delany also relates how the young couple came 
 up to town from Althorpe in three coaches and six, 
 accompanied by two hundred horsemen. The villages 
 through which they passed were thrown into the greatest 
 alarm by this cavalcade, some of the people shutting 
 themselves in their houses, and others coming out armed 
 with pitchforks, spits, and spades, crying that 'the in- 
 vasion was come,' believing that the Pretender and the 
 King of France were both come together. 
 
 m 177 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 That Mrs. Delany still took a keen interest in the 
 fashions is evident from the earnestness with which she 
 explains that 'ruffles are much the same — long at the 
 elbow, and pretty narrow at the top. I think they pin 
 their gowns rather closer than before ; hoops are as flat 
 as if made of pasteboard, and as stiff, the shape sloping 
 from the hips and spreading at the bottom, enormous, 
 but not so ugly as the square hoops. There are hopes 
 that they will soon be reduced to a very small size. 
 Heads are variously adorned, pompons with some accom- 
 paniment of feathers, ribbons, or flowers; lappets in all 
 sorts of curli-murlis ; long hoods are worn close under the 
 chin, the earrings go round the neck [!], and tie with 
 bows and ends behind. Night-gowns are worn without 
 hoops."' 
 
 178 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 (1756-1766) 
 
 The whole of 1756 was spent in England. In 
 September the Delanys went to Welbeck for the first 
 time, and Mrs. Delany describes the place as 'really 
 magnificent, though the outward appearance of the house 
 is by no means answerable to its goodness within. There 
 is a lawn before the house, encompassed with woods of 
 the finest oak I ever saw. A valley of many acres runs 
 through that part of the park that is visible from the 
 house ; it is to be floated, and will make a noble piece of 
 water. I have undertaken to set the Duchess of Port- 
 land's miniatures in order, as she does not like to trust 
 them to anybody else. Such Petitots ! such Olivers ! 
 such Coopers ! You may believe the employment is not 
 unpleasant.' 
 
 The early part of the winter was passed at Bath and 
 Bristol, and the sisters were together in town between 
 January and May. In March 1757 the following quaint 
 advertisement appeared, announcing the publication of 
 The Humanist, a paper on the same lines as the Spectator, 
 which Dr. Delany proposed to edit : — 
 
 ' This is to give notice 
 To all those few frugal and temperate ladies and gentle- 
 men who can afford to sequester ten minutes in a week 
 from pleasurable pursuits and important amusements, 
 
 179 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ' That on Saturday the 26th (and on every succeeding 
 Saturday) will be published a new paper called 
 The Humanist, 
 Which means not only amusement, like the rest of its 
 contemporaries, but likewise something more than mere 
 amusement ; and is calculated to convey some little useful 
 and entertaining knowledge of various kinds, historical, 
 classical, natural, moral, and now and then a little 
 religious, into the reader's mind. The author is much 
 concerned that this cannot be done under the great 
 expense of twopence a week, for reasons that shall be 
 known hereafter. Whether the advantages of such a 
 paper will countervail the expense, the readers will judge 
 for themselves. 1 
 
 Apparently the judgment of the reader was unfavour- 
 able to the paper, which, perhaps, was overweighted by 
 its religious matter, for it only survived fifteen numbers. 
 Among its contents were a series of edifying female char- 
 acter-studies, which were intended to serve as a good 
 example to women readers. A sketch of a faultless 
 being called ' Maria ' was a portrait of Mrs. Delany, but 
 when she discovered it she forbade its publication. It 
 was not destroyed, however, and serves to show the 
 light in which her husband regarded her. 
 
 'Maria,'' we are told, in the quaint language of the 
 period, * was early initiated into every art, with elegance 
 and condition, that could form her into a fine lady, a 
 good woman, and a good Christian. She read and wrote 
 two languages correctly and judiciously. She soon be- 
 came a mistress of her pen in every art to which a pen 
 could be applied. She wrote a fine hand in the most 
 masterly manner, she drew, and she designed with amaz- 
 180 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ing correctness and skill. . . . With a person finely 
 proportioned, she had a lovely face of great sweetness 
 set off with a head of fair hair, shining, and naturally 
 curled, with a complexion which nothing could equal, in 
 which the lilies and roses contended for the mastery. Her 
 eyes were bright — indeed, I could never tell the colour 
 they were of, but to the best of my belief they were what 
 Solomon calls "dove's eyes," and she is almost the only 
 woman I ever saw whose lips were scarlet and her bloom 
 beyond expression . , 
 
 In March 1758 the hearing of the appeal in Dr. 
 Delany's long-protracted lawsuit took place in the House 
 of Lords. The Attorney-General had been retained by 
 the Dean, and opened the case in a speech of two hours 1 
 length. The hearing lasted over several days, during 
 which the worthy couple suffered torments of anxiety and 
 suspense ; but on March 6 Mrs. Delany was able to write : 
 ' My dearest sister's most kind and prophetic letter came 
 just as we had received the happy news of the complete 
 success of our cause. . . . The Dean's character is cleared, 
 and set in the fair light it deserves. I am just come 
 from early chapel, where I have every morning implored 
 the blessing now received, but with a heavy heart, fearing 
 my own demerits, and not daring to hope for success ; but 
 this morning I have attended with very different sensations, 
 and may I ever be most humbly thankful. A cause never 
 was so well attended, nor a more universal joy seen than 
 when Lord Mansfield, 1 after an hour and a half's speaking 
 with angelic oratory, pronounced the decree in our favour."' 
 
 The suit had lasted nearly ten years in all, and had 
 cost the Delanys more than the disputed sum in law 
 expenses, to say nothing of the wear and tear of suspense 
 1 The 'silver-tongued Murray.' 
 
 181 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and anxiety. A compromise might have been arrived at 
 long before had it not been for Mrs. Delany's desire that 
 her husband's character should be fully cleared, no matter 
 what the cost. 
 
 After their long absence the Delanys returned to 
 Ireland in July 1758, and Mrs. Delany's first letter from 
 Delville is full of the delights of her garden, which, she 
 says, she has not yet been able to visit in every part, 
 although ' a snail can creep round it in a minute,"' allud- 
 ing to the satirical description of Delville attributed at 
 first to Swift, but afterwards believed to have been 
 written by Sheridan — 
 
 ' Would you that Delville I describe ? 
 Believe me, sir, I will not gibe ; 
 For who would be satirical 
 Upon a thing so very small ; 
 You scarce upon the borders enter 
 Before you 're at the very centre. 
 A single crow can make it night, 
 When o'er your farm she takes her flight. 
 Yet in this narrow compass we 
 Observe a vast variety ; 
 Both walks, walls, meadows, and parterres, 
 Windows, and doors, and rooms, and stairs, 
 And hills, and dales, and woods, and fields, 
 And hay, and grass, and corn it yields. 
 All to your haggard brought so cheap in, 
 Without the mowing or the reaping ; 
 A razor, tho' to say't I'm loth, 
 Would shave you and your meadows both. 
 Tho' small's the farm, yet here's a house 
 Full large to entertain a mouse ; 
 But where a rat is dreaded more 
 Than savage Caledonian boar ; 
 For if it's entered by a rat, 
 There is not room to swing a cat. 
 182 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 A little rivulet seems to steal 
 
 Down through a thing- you call a vale, 
 
 Like tears adown a wrinkled cheek, 
 
 Like rain along a blade of leek ; 
 
 And this you call your sweet meander, 
 
 Which might be sucked up by a gander, 
 
 Could he but force his nether bill 
 
 To scoop the channel of the rill. 
 
 For sure you 'd make a mighty clutter 
 
 Were it as big as city gutter. 
 
 Next come I to your kitchen garden, 
 
 Where our poor mouse would fare but hard in ; 
 
 And round this garden is a walk, 
 
 No longer than a tailor's chalk ; 
 
 Must I compare what space is in it, 
 
 A snail creeps round it in a minute. 
 
 One lettuce makes a shift to squeeze 
 
 Up thro' a tuft you call the trees ; 
 
 And once a year a single rose 
 
 Peeps from the bud, but never blows, 
 
 In vain, then, you expect its bloom, 
 
 It cannot blow from want of room ! 
 
 In short, in all your boasted seat, 
 
 There's nothing but yourself that's great.' 
 
 There is not much of importance to record during the 
 next year or two, but a few characteristic extracts from 
 the letters may be given. 'I am quite of your mind 
 about marrying,"' writes Mrs. Delany in March 1759. 
 1 I should be very sorry to have Mary married before she 
 was twenty ; and yet if a very desirable match offers 
 sooner, I don't see how it can be refused, if she must 
 marry at all? A propos, we dined last night at Mrs. 
 Clayton's; she was very lively. After dinner the dis- 
 course ran upon women being single ; she said it was a 
 foolish scheme, for after forty it was awkward because 
 they were insignificant, and she spoke with great con- 
 
 183 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 tempt of them. I was angry at the indignity, and said, 
 but with great calmness, " I wonder you should say so ; for 
 who makes a better figure than your sister Donnellan, 
 whose drawing-room is constantly filled with the best 
 company, and whose conversation is much sought after ? " 
 It would have diverted you to see how blank she looked. 
 " Oh, but," she added, " they grow jealous and suspicious. 11 
 " Not at all, 11 said I, " unless they were inclined to it when 
 young. 11 1 
 
 Mrs. Delany^ mind was evidently rather exercised on 
 the ' woman question 1 just then, for in the next letter she 
 writes of her godson, Lord Mornington 1 s fiancee, Miss 
 Hill : ' She is pretty, excessively good-natured, and happy 
 in her present situation ; but I own I think my godson 
 required a wife that knew more of the punctilios of good 
 breeding, as he is much wanting in them himself, and 
 those things should not be wanting in a man of rank 
 and fortune. Indeed, I carry it further, and think that 
 nobody can do so much good in the world who is not 
 well bred as those that are ; in truth, it is only a modern 
 phrase for that " charity 11 emphatically expressed by St. 
 Paul. Yet refining is of little use where the wife is only 
 considered as a head-servant in the family, and honoured 
 with the head of the table that she may have all the 
 trouble of carving, as well as the care of supplying that 
 table, so that her lord may not descend to any domestic 
 drudgery. Our Maker created us "helpmeets, 11 which 
 surely implies we are worthy of being their companions, 
 their friends, their advisers, as well as they ours. 1 
 
 In April 1759 Handel, whom Mrs. Delany had never 
 
 ceased to regard as her friend and most revered master, 
 
 died at the age of seventy-five. ' I could not help feeling 
 
 a damp on my spirits, 1 she writes, ' when I heard that 
 
 184 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 great master of music was no more, and I shall be less able 
 to hear any music than I used to be. I hear he has showed 
 his gratitude and regard to my brother by leaving him 
 some of his pictures. ... I am sure you were pleased by 
 the honours done him by the chapter at Westminster.'' 
 
 There was always a solid book of some kind for the 
 evening readings at Delville. At one time it is Robert- 
 son's History of Scotland, and at another Mrs. Carter's 
 Epictetus, and a translation of the Tragedies of Sophocles. 
 Of the latter Mrs. Delany observes naively : ' They are in 
 good, unaffected language. There is something of a noble 
 simplicity in them, not so ranting, but more natural than 
 our modern tragedies, and it is very agreeable to see how 
 poets wrote above a thousand years ago ; though there is 
 vanity wanting to make them agreeable to our stage, 
 where we have been used to more complicated plots and 
 surprises, but I believe these are in truer taste. 1 
 
 In April 1760 she writes of a certain book that was 
 making a great noise in the world j ust then : ' The Dean 
 is indeed very angry with the author of Tristram Shandy, 
 and those who do not condemn the work as it deserves ; it 
 has not and will not enter this house, especially now your 
 account is added to a very bad one we had heard before.' 
 Again, in a subsequent letter she alludes to the obnoxious 
 book: 'D.D. is not a little offended with Mr. Sterne; his book 
 is read here as in London, and diverts more than it offends. 
 As neither I nor any of my particular set have read it, I 
 know no more of it than what you have said about it. 1 
 
 In September 1760 the Delany s went to England again, 
 
 and in October, the month in which George n. died, settled 
 
 down in Bath for the winter. From thence a short visit was 
 
 paid to Lord and Lady Weymouth l at Longleat, where, to 
 
 1 Lord Weymouth married Lady Elizabeth Cavendish-Ben tinck in 1759. 
 
 185 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 quote Mrs. Delany, ' the gardens are no more ! , They are 
 succeeded by a fine lawn, a serpentine river, wooded hills, 
 gravel paths meandering round a shrubbery, all modern- 
 ised by the ingenious and much-sought-after Mr. Brown. 
 It was at Bath that Mrs. Delany had her first sight of 
 Mr. Gainsborough's pictures. ' This morning,'' she writes 
 in October, ' I went with Lady Westmoreland to see Mr. 
 Gainsborough's pictures, and they may well be called what 
 Mr. Webb unjustly says of Rubens — they are " splendid 
 impositions.'''' There I saw Miss Ford's picture — a whole- 
 length, with her guitar, a most extraordinary picture, 
 handsome and bold; but I should be very sorry to see 
 any one I loved painted in such a manner."' 
 
 It was about this time, the close of the year 1760, that 
 Mrs. Delany began to suffer anxiety on account of the 
 health of her sister, who had become subject to alarming 
 fits of giddiness. In January 1761 the Delanys joined Mrs. 
 Dewes at Bristol, where she had been ordered to take the 
 waters, and remained with her until her rapidly -increasing 
 weakness ended in her death on July 6, 1761. No letters 
 of Mrs. Delany's relating to this period of overwhelming 
 grief and desolation have been found ; but among the 
 family papers is a little note from Mr. Dewes to his young 
 daughter Mary, which is curious as a specimen of the formal 
 and purposely unemotional composition of an eighteenth 
 century parent in time of affliction. There is no reason to 
 doubt Mr. Dewes's affection for his wife, or his grief at her 
 loss, but the power, and perhaps the will, to express deep, 
 unaffected feeling was not over common at this period : 
 
 ' My dear Mary, 1 begins this letter of condolence, ' I 
 am but poorly qualified at present to console you upon the 
 great loss you have sustained in the death of the best of 
 186 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 mothers ; and though, upon the whole, I think my loss the 
 greatest, and am but too sensibly affected with it, yet, as a 
 parent, something may be expected from me upon so great a 
 catastrophe. Let me therefore advise you not to dwell too 
 much upon the melancholy subject, but rather be thankful 
 that a life so worthy of imitation has been so long con- 
 tinued to you, and endeavour to follow her bright example. 
 This will be a comfort to yourself and friends here, and a 
 means of promoting your eternal happiness hereafter. . . . , 
 
 With the death of Anne Dewes, the intimate sisterly 
 correspondence comes perforce to an end ; but as soon as the 
 first violence of her grief is over, Mrs. Delany begins to 
 write regularly to her niece Mary, and to relations or old 
 friends, such as the Duchess of Portland, Lady Cowper, 
 Lady Gower, and Mrs. Boscawen, the latter being one of 
 the shining lights of the blue-stocking circle. After a 
 visit to Mr. Granville at Calwich, the Delanys returned 
 to Delville in the winter of 1761-62, and here Mrs. Delany 
 had the companionship of her goddaughter Sally Chapone, 
 who was married in 1764 to the Dean's chaplain, Mr. 
 Sand ford. Mary Dewes was just entering society under 
 the wing of Lady Cowper, and Mrs. Delany 's letters 
 contain much excellent advice to the niece, whom now 
 more than ever she regarded as her own child. In 1762 
 she writes to Mary : — 
 
 ' Our governor leaves us on Monday. Mrs. Osborne 
 rejoices, the young ladies mourn, for they are so very 
 young as to think a round of hurrying pleasures is happi- 
 ness ; not considering what a loss of time it is to devote 
 all their hours to amusements that can leave no solid 
 pleasure behind, wear their constitutions out by bad hours, 
 and prevent all occupations that enlarge the mind and lay 
 in a store of good and entertaining reflections for the 
 
 187 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 autumn and winter of life. A moderate participation in 
 rational entertainments is necessary, I may say, to relieve 
 the mind, but they should be no more the principal atten- 
 tion of our minds than sweetmeats should be our sole food. 
 I don't mean any reflection on the Lady Montagues, for 
 their station here has required them to lead the life they 
 have done, and they have acquitted themselves with a 
 great deal of civility and good-humour ; but I only con- 
 demn the choice of spending every day in a public place, 
 though I don't fear this disposition in you, my dear child, 
 because you have early had great advantages, and the 
 good seed that has been sown will spring up, and you will 
 reap the advantage of it. Has my brother read Fingal, 
 the Erse poetry? and how do you both like it? It is 
 melancholy, but I think very pretty. We have lately 
 read again Pliny's Letters^ translated by Melmouth ; they 
 are very pleasing letters.' 
 
 Mrs. Delany writes her niece a long and cheerful 
 account of the Chapone-Sandford wedding, the festivities 
 at which lasted from eleven in the morning till ten at 
 night, and included breakfast after the ceremony ; dinner, 
 with a Gargantuan menu, at four ; tea and coffee at seven, 
 then dancing and cribbage, prayers, a salver with bride- 
 cake in the parlour, and a quiet supper after the company 
 had departed. Such a day would be the death of almost 
 any modern hostess, but Mrs. Delany writes as though 
 the duties of housekeeping and hospitality were a pleasure 
 rather than a burden. 
 
 Except for a short visit to England in 1763, the 
 Delany s remained quietly at Delville till 1767, when a 
 threatened renewal of the lawsuit filled them with 
 anxiety, and decided them, in spite of the Dean's fast- 
 failing health, to risk the journey to England, and estab- 
 188 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 lish themselves at Bath. During the year previous to 
 their final departure from Ireland, there are several 
 allusions in the letters to J. J. Rousseau, who was then 
 living at Woolton, where he had Mr. Granville of 
 Calwich as one of his nearest neighbours. ' I hope your 
 neighbour Rousseau entertains you,' writes Mrs. Delany 
 to her brother in July 1766. ' Is he pleased with his own 
 Hermitage ? It is romantic enough to satisfy a genius, but 
 not so well suited to a sentimental philosopher as to a 
 cynic. It is rather too rude, and I should imagine Calwich 
 much better fitted for that purpose.' Again, writing in 
 September to her old friend Lady Andover, she observes : 
 ' I am glad you have seen the Rousseau ; he is a genius 
 and a curiosity, and his works extremely ingenious, as I 
 am told, but to young and unstable minds I believe 
 dangerous, as under the guise and pomp of virtue he 
 does advance very erroneous and unorthodox sentiments. 
 It is not the bon tons who say this, but I am too near the 
 day of trial to disturb my mind with fashionable whims, 
 Lady Kildare said she would offer Rousseau an elegant 
 retreat if he would educate her children ! I own I differ 
 widely from her ladyship, and would rather commit that 
 charge to a downright honest parson, I mean as to 
 religious principles, but perhaps that was a part that 
 did not fall into her scheme at all.' 
 
 Mrs. Delany thought it necessary to warn her young 
 niece, who frequently stayed at Calwich, against the wiles 
 of the philosopher. 'Now for a word of advice about 
 Monsieur Rousseau,' she writes, ' who has gained so much 
 of your admiration. His writings are ingenious, no doubt, 
 and were they weeded from the false and erroneous senti- 
 ments that are blended throughout his works (as I have 
 been told) they would be as valuable as they are enter- 
 
 189 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 taining. I own I am not a fair disputant on this subject 
 from my own knowledge of his works, as I avoid engaging 
 in books from whose subtlety I might perhaps receive 
 some prejudice, and I always take an alarm when virtue 
 in general terms is the idol, without the support of religion, 
 the only foundation that can be our security to build 
 upon ; that great plausibility and pomp of expression 
 is deluding, and requires great accuracy of judgment not 
 to be imposed upon by it. I therefore think it the wisest 
 and safest way to avoid those snares that I may not have 
 strength enough to break when once entangled in them. 
 I remember a wise maxim of my Aunt Stanley's when I 
 first came into the great world : " Avoid putting yourself 
 in danger, fly from temptations, for it is always odds on 
 the tempter's side. 1 *' 1 
 
 The warning does not seem to have had the effect of 
 lessening Mary's admiration for the philosopher, or the 
 pleasure she took in his company. After his return to 
 France, Rousseau inquires, in a letter to the Duchess of 
 Portland, for his good friend Mr. Granville, and also for 
 that gentleman's amiable niece Miss Dewes. Alluding to 
 a little flock of sheep that her uncle had given to Mary, 
 he continues: 'Elle avait des brebis si jeune qu'elle doit 
 avoir trouve bientot un berger qui fit son bonheur. 
 C'est une recompense qui meritait la charite chretienne 
 avec laquelle elle supportait les radotages de son vieux 
 berger, dont le titre n'etait pas moins inutile pour elle 
 que c'est pour vous celui que vous m'avez permis de 
 porter.' In the last sentence Rousseau alludes to the title 
 of ' L'Herboriste de Madame la Duchesse de Portland,' 
 which he had bestowed upon himself. 
 
 190 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 (1767-1772) 
 
 In 1767 the Delanys returned to England after an absence 
 of four years. The Dean was now over eighty, and had 
 become very infirm, so that the long journey was a serious 
 undertaking, but he was anxious not only to be at hand 
 should his affairs necessitate another appeal to the House 
 of Lords, but also to feel that when the end came he 
 should leave his wife in her own country and among her 
 own friends. The pair went first to Calwich and then 
 to Bath, where it was hoped that the Dean might again 
 be benefited by the waters, and there he lingered for 
 several months. During this time Mrs. Delany went to 
 London, and sold the house in Spring Gardens that had 
 been bought for her thirteen years before. It seems 
 probable that the renewal of heavy law expenses had a 
 great deal to do with this determination, and that, being 
 hopeless of her husband's recovery, she considered that her 
 wisest course would be to relieve him from anxiety as to 
 any further claims after his decease, by having a large 
 sum of ready money in the banker's hands, more than 
 sufficient for any possible legal demands. She also felt that 
 she would never have spirit or energy to settle in London 
 alone, and that after her husband's death she would remain 
 at Bath for the remainder of her life. 
 
 Dr. Delany died on May 6, 1768, in the eighty-fourth 
 
 191 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 year of his age, and was buried at Delville in a piece of 
 ground which had once been part of his garden, but which 
 was thrown into the churchyard for this purpose. On 
 his memorial tablet is engraved the following inscrip- 
 tion, said to have been composed by himself : ' Here lieth 
 the body of an orthodox Christian believer, an early and 
 earnest defender of Revelation to the utmost of the 
 abilities with which it pleased God to endow a constant 
 and zealous preacher of the Divine laws, and an humble, 
 unmeriting penitent." 1 Mary Dewes was with her aunt 
 at the time of the Dean's death, and almost immediately 
 afterwards the Duchess of Portland came to Bath and 
 carried off her old friend for a long quiet visit to Bulstrode, 
 and eventually persuaded her to settle in London, where 
 she would be among her own friends. 
 
 Mrs. Delany, who was now sixty-eight years of age, and 
 who had suffered many sorrows and anxieties during the 
 last seven years, instead of yielding to the natural depres- 
 sion that assailed her, made a courageous and successful 
 effort to keep up her spirits and her interest in life, in 
 order that she might be of use and comfort to those who 
 were still left to her. She writes long letters to Mary Dewes, 
 telling her all the news that she thinks likely to interest 
 her young correspondent, and shows a ready sympathy 
 with her niece's occupations and pursuits. The summer 
 was now regularly spent at Bulstrode, and the winter in 
 a house that Mrs. Delany had taken in St. James's Street, 
 where her now inseparable friend, the Duchess, spent 
 nearly every evening with her. 
 
 In the letters for 1768 we hear of the death of Lady 
 
 Hervey, once the toasted beauty, Molly Lepel, and of a 
 
 Court ball given in honour of the King of Denmark, at 
 
 which George in., with Lady Mary Lowther for a partner, 
 
 192 
 

 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 danced the ' Hemp-dresser,' a fashionable country dance 
 which lasted two hours. 
 
 The King of Denmark's visit made a great sensation in 
 town, and his departure was much lamented by the mob. 
 ' He threw out of window the day before he left an hundred 
 and fifty guineas among them, and he gave a thousand 
 pounds among the King's servants. His travelling, they 
 say, is to conquer a fancy he has for a young lady in 
 Denmark, and that he dislikes his wife extremely.'' In 
 September 1768, Mrs. Delany writes to her niece from 
 Bulstrode : ' We returned here on Saturday. At Uxbridge 
 we were obliged to get out of our chaise, the waters were 
 so high, and the bridge that is now building not yet 
 finished. I suppose the newspapers have informed you 
 of the extraordinary inundations occasioned by only one 
 night's rain. The Virginia water broke head, and is 
 entirely gone, fish and all, and a house in the way carried 
 off as clear as if no house had ever been built there ! It 
 was surprising to see the water on parade at St. James's 
 like a great lake, and all the way between London and 
 this, the people labouring to throw up the water in 
 pailsfull that overflowed the lower part of the houses 
 and cellars.' A month later she writes from Whitehall : 
 * We had a fine day for our journey here, and it was lucky, 
 for the chief postillion and his horse tumbled down, and 
 we were obliged to get out of the chaise in the middle of 
 the road. At first the shock was great, as we had reason 
 to think the man was very much hurt, if not killed ; but 
 providentially he was neither, only his leg a little bruised. 
 . . . No words can express the Duchess's goodness to me, 
 pressing me to remain with her as long as convenient, but 
 I am myself unequal to the way of life unavoidable here 
 — of late hours and company, which makes me think it 
 n 193 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 prudent to seek after a house in good earnest. I was told 
 of one yesterday, and went to see it ; the place is called 
 Catherine Wheel Lane ; it is very small, but both prettily 
 and conveniently situated. The front faces a cross street 
 now called Little St. James's Street, and the back looks 
 into the Duke of Bridgewaters garden very pleasantly. 
 A coach drives very well to the door, and people of fashion 
 live in the row.'' 
 
 The house was taken, but in January 1769 Mrs. Delany 
 was still at Whitehall. She writes to Lady Andover : 
 ' It is an age since I wrote to dear Lady Andover, and I 
 suffer (as all naughty people do) for my faults. The truth, 
 which I know is always the best solicitor with your lady- 
 ship, is that on coming to town I was struck with my 
 Irish goods that had arrived, and so sunk by it that I was 
 not able to write ; and now being uncertain where this 
 may kiss your hands, and not without hope that you 
 may be preparing for London, I make it short. Surely 
 London is the place that December to April is the 
 wholesomest for man, woman, and child ! . . . My hut in 
 St. James's Street is not very forward, but does not at all 
 grieve my spirit. I am too sensible of my present happy 
 situation to be in haste to quit it." 1 
 
 Lady Gower and Mrs. Boscawen are still among Mrs. 
 Delany's most regular correspondents. The first-named 
 lady was a character in her way, strong in mind and body, 
 a grande dame of the old school. One summer, when she 
 was between seventy and eighty years of age, she gave up 
 riding on horseback, ' on account of the flies,'' the avowed 
 reason causing a good deal of amusement to her friends- 
 An extract from one of her letters may be given as a 
 specimen of her style. It is dated from her country house, 
 Bill Hill, Berkshire, August 1769 :— 
 194 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 1 Fortune has bless'd y s fforest w th y e genius's of y e age. 
 Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Dunbar, and L d Littleton 
 are at Sufling Wells, and sport sentim ts from morn till 
 noon, from noon till dewy eve. I molest 'em not, content- 
 ing myself in my rustick simplicity ; 'tis a stupidity y* 
 may be felt, I don't doubt, but not by me. Mrs. Montagu 
 has conienced author in vindication of Shakespeare, who 
 wants none, therefore her work must be deemed a work of 
 supererogation ; some comend it. I '11 have y*, because I 
 can throw it aside w n I 'm tired.' 
 
 In a letter from Mrs. Boscawen there is an account of 
 the foundation of the fashionable club, afterwards known 
 as Almack's. ' The female club I told you of is removed 
 from their quarters, Lady Pembroke objecting to a tavern; 
 it meets, therefore, for the present at certain rooms of 
 Almack's, who for another year is to provide a private 
 house. The first fourteen who imagined and planned it 
 settled its rules and constitution ; these were framed upon 
 the model of one of the clubs at Almack's. There are 
 seventy-five chosen (the whole number is to be 200). 
 The ladies nominate and choose the gentlemen, and vice 
 versa ; so that no lady can exclude a lady, or gentleman 
 a gentleman ! The Duchess of Bedford was at first black- 
 balled, but is since admitted. . . . Lady Rochford and 
 Lady Harrington are blackballed, as are Lord March, 
 Mr. Boothby, and one or two more who think themselves 
 pretty gentlemen du premier ordre, but it is plain the 
 ladies are not of their opinion. When any of the ladies 
 dine with the society, they are to send word before, but 
 supper comes of course, and is to be served always at 
 eleven. Play is to be deep and constant probably.' 
 
 On January 15, 1770, Mrs. Delany writes a cheerful 
 letter in answer to her niece's request for a 'journal': 
 
 195 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ' What can it be to you who comes in or goes out either of 
 St. James's or the Little Thatch? [Mrs. Delany's new house]. 
 You live in the pure air, by the gliding Thames, the sun 
 glistening in its fair face in the morning, and your favourite 
 Luna at night ; and for intellectual pleasures have you not 
 your amiable friends to gladden you every moment ? Well, 
 now for a sketch of a journal. The pleasantest moment 
 I spent on Saturday was when I scribbled a few words 
 to you. I eat half a roast onion for my supper, and I 
 dreamed of hobgoblins ! Sunday morning tasted my new 
 tea, and was almost poisoned with it, made my complaint 
 immediately, and hope for redress. Had a short but good 
 sermon at St. James's Chapel, and a very full Court. I 
 was much embarrassed by the multitude of fine ladies' 
 chairs joggling against me between Chapel and Hanover 
 Square, where I found my little friend pretty, and had a 
 little sparring of politics with her son. Came home at 
 three, dressed, and went to dinner at Whitehall — no 
 refusal would be taken. After dinner we adjourned to 
 the Little Thatch to meet Mrs. Boscawen. Went to bed 
 exceedingly tired. Got up at nine, and read a lecture 
 to my family on the advantages of early rising ! For 
 want of the usual bell to call them up they get later and 
 later.' 
 
 In June of this year Mary Dewes became engaged to 
 Mr. Port of Ham, a man of good character, familv, and 
 fortune. For some unexplained reason, her uncle, Mr. 
 Granville, disapproved of the match ; and as his influence 
 was paramount in the family, owing probably to the fact 
 that he intended to make one of the young Dewes his heir, 
 the course of true love did not at first run smooth. An 
 extract or two from a note written by Mary to Mr. 
 Port shortly after their engagement gives some idea of a 
 196 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 well-brought-up girl's love-letter in the year 1770. Mary 
 was then twenty-four, at that period rather a late age 
 for a girl to be still unmarried, but it is probable that the 
 training she had received from both her mother and her 
 aunt had rendered her more fastidious than her fellows. 
 She writes from Richmond, where she was staying with 
 Lady Cowper : — 
 
 ' My dear Mr. Port, — I sent you such a strange, and 
 I fear almost unintelligible, scrawl last Thursday that I 
 fear you could scarce make it out. ... It is most charming 
 weather, and the moon as bright as possible every night 
 but the last. I was true to my appointment last night, 
 and was happy in thinking we were beholding the same 
 object at the same hour; that reflection will be a still 
 greater comfort to me as you are removed farther off', for 
 our engagement shall still hold good for every full moon 
 till we meet, and then she will shine forth with double 
 lustre, and every charm be heightened by our beholding 
 it together. Till that time arrives we must console our- 
 selves in thinking of each other's sincerity, and that 
 everything will turn out as we wish it if it is for the 
 best it should. 
 
 " Let no fond love for earth exact a sigh, 
 No doubt divert our steady steps aside ; 
 Nor let us long to live, nor dread to die, 
 Heaven is our hope, and Providence our guide." 
 
 'I yesterday received a very polite note from Mr. Walpole 
 to invite me to Strawberry Hill on Monday next to meet 
 the Duchess of Portland and Mrs. Delany, but I am 
 engaged, so have sent an excuse. ... As we were to be 
 out the whole day, I rose earlier than usual in order to 
 have a little time for reading, as food for the mind is 
 
 197 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 fully as necessary as food for the body, and I was always 
 delighted with what Dr. Young says in one of his Night 
 Thoughts : — 
 
 "A soul without reflection, 
 Like a pile without inhabitant, 
 Soon to ruin falls." 
 
 ' It is rather hard upon our sex that we have in general 
 our own education to seek after we are grown up, I mean 
 as to mental qualifications. In our childhood writing, 
 dancing, and music is what is most attended to ; and 
 without being a pedant, such a knowledge of grammar as is 
 requisite to make us speak and write correctly is certainly 
 necessary, and also a knowledge of history that one may 
 compare past times with the present, and be able to enter 
 into conversation when those subjects are started, is very 
 agreeable, and I am convinced one is never too old for 
 improvement. The great Mrs. Macaulay 1 hardly knew 
 the meaning of the word grammar until she was thirty 
 years old, and now all her productions go to the press 
 uncorrected." 1 
 
 Mr. Granville withheld his consent to the marriage for 
 some months longer. In a letter to her niece, dated July 
 15, 1770, Mrs. Delany says : ' I don't know what to say 
 on a subject that occupies my thoughts as much as yours ; 
 but all information must come from your side, as I am 
 entirely out of the way of hearing anything. I have 
 nothing to recommend to my dearest Mary during the 
 present state of affairs, but what her excellent principles 
 and good sense suggest, hoping all will end well, but I 
 own it is a severe state of trial. 1 In another letter written 
 1 Catherine Macaulay, author of A History of England. 
 
 198 
 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 about the same time Mrs. Delany gives a pleasant account 
 of a visit paid by herself and the Duchess to the Garricks 
 at their house on the river : ' Mr. Gamely she says, ' did 
 the honours of his house very respectfully ', and though in 
 high spirits, seemed sensible of the honour done them. 
 Nobody else there but Lady Weymouth and Mrs. Bateman. 
 As to Mrs. Garrick, the more one sees her the better one 
 must like her ; she seems never to depart from a perfect 
 propriety of behaviour, accompanied with good taste and 
 gentleness of manners, and I cannot help looking upon 
 her as a wonderful creature, considering all circumstances 
 relating to her. The house is singular (which you know 
 I like), and seems to owe its prettiness and elegance to her 
 good taste ; on the whole, it has the air of belonging to 
 a genius. We had an excellent dinner nicely served, and 
 when over went directly into the garden — a piece of 
 irregular ground sloping down to the Thames, very well 
 laid out, and planted for shade and shelter ; and an 
 opening to the river which appears beautiful from that 
 spot, and from Shakespeare's Temple at the end of the 
 improvements, where we drank tea, and where there is a 
 very fine statue of Shakespeare in white marble, and a great 
 chair with a large carved frame, that was Shakespeare 's own 
 chair, made for him on some particular occasion, with a 
 medallion of him fixed in the back. Many were the relics 
 we saw of the favourite poet. At six o'clock Lady Wey- 
 mouth's fine group of children walked into the garden, 
 which added to the agreeableness of the scene, and Mr. 
 Garrick made himself as suitable a companion to the 
 children as to the rest of the company . , 
 
 Mary Dewes's love-affairs were at last set straight by the 
 all-powerful Duchess of Portland, who invited aunt and 
 niece to Bulstrode, and insisted that Mary should be 
 
 199 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 united to her lover before she left the house. Accord- 
 ingly, the couple were married at Bulstrode on December 
 4, 1770, the consent of Mr. Granville having been previ- 
 ously obtained. On December 7, Mrs. Delany writes to 
 her nephew, the Reverend John Dewes, to congratulate 
 him on his sister's marriage, ' with a prospect of as much 
 happiness as must satisfy all her friends, and I thank God 
 her health is so well established as to give the best hopes 
 that the want of it will not interrupt the felicity of two 
 worthy people, who seem deserving of each other; this 
 must assure you of the good opinion I have of Mr. Port, 
 whose whole behaviour has been most amiable." 1 In a 
 letter to Lady Andover, written early in the New Year, 
 Mrs. Delany observes that she has been quite in a whirl, 
 for her nephew and niece Port have been with her, and 
 would not bespeak a table or a pair of shoes, but she 
 must give her opinion. The same letter contains some 
 strictures upon the rage for pleasure, or rather for vanity 
 and folly, by which the fashionable world was then 
 animated. ' Ladies lose vast sums, 1 she writes. ' It 
 answers their purpose by killing that which will kill 
 them (time), little thinking of that bar where they must 
 inevitably appear, and be arraigned for that murder. It 
 mortifies my sex's pride to see women expose themselves 
 so much to the contempt of men, over whom, I think, 
 from nature and education, if they were just to their own 
 dignity, they have so many advantages. 1 
 
 The bride and bridegroom left town the middle of 
 January, for on the 15th Mrs. Delany writes to Mrs. 
 Port : ' Yesterday morning you had not been gone half 
 an hour when in came little Lord Warwick to invite you 
 and me to a concert to hear the fiddling woman, etc., and 
 promised me I should have some Handel ; but I was coy 
 200 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 till he promised you should be of a musical party some 
 other time, and I am to be presented to Mrs. Pattoon ! 
 To his little Lordship succeeded the great Mr. West, who 
 would have raised my vanity excessively did his heart and 
 tongue ever go together. But this morning I have had 
 a visitor who always puts me into good humour without 
 flattery; his angelic looks and sweetness of manner always 
 drive away every peevish and unreasonable thought. I 
 won't affront your discernment, and write a name under 
 this picture.' The great Mr. West was probably 
 Benjamin West, for we find that Mrs. Delany paid 
 a visit to his studio in February, and to that of Angelica 
 Kaufmann. 'My partiality leans to my sister painter, 1 
 she writes ; ' she certainly has a great deal of merit, but 
 I like her history still better than her portraits. 1 
 Another interesting visit was to Christie's to see the new 
 Wedgwood ware, with the neatness and elegance of 
 which Mrs. Delany declares herself much pleased, but 
 adds : ' It bears a price only for those who have super- 
 fluous money, though I had rather game there than at 
 Almack's, and it would be more rational; one would 
 have a pretty thing for one's money, and be saved the 
 dreadful anxiety that attends other gaming, a vice of 
 such deep dye at present, that nothing within my memory 
 comes up to it ! The bite is more malignant than that of 
 a mad dog, and has all the effects of it.' 
 
 There are several unpublished letters to Mrs. Port 
 during the spring of 1771, from which the following 
 extracts may be quoted : — 
 
 f T. H. Court, 19 March 1771. 
 
 ' I don't wonder such a pleasant home with so dear and 
 valuable a partner should delight you, let the season be 
 what it will, but you are an unconscionable tantaliser to 
 
 201 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 tell me of sunshine, beautiful scenes, and singing- birds, 
 whilst we are choked with fogs, see nothing but through 
 a mist, and the best musick I have heard since you went 
 has been the Yorkshire Bun-man's song, who is again 
 returned to his usual rounds. . . . When I come to Ham 
 I shall most certainly commence a friendship with your 
 treasure of a carpenter, as I have a particular regard for 
 a clever mechanick. 1 
 
 ' April 18. 
 'For fear you should imagine I am grunting by my 
 chimney corner, this is to testify that I am toute au 
 contraire engaged with masquerades up to the eyes ; am 
 going as an important judge to give my opinion on Mrs. 
 Shelley's dress, and at seven Mrs. R. and I go to Lady 
 Weymouth's to see masques. ... I very much doubt 
 whether you will get a servant that has been used to 
 London that will sit down quietly in the country ; there 
 seems to be an universal dissipation of manners from the 
 highest to the lowest, and the cook I gave an account of, 
 who was a most desirable servant, said she could not live 
 in the country — it was so melancholy. 1 
 
 ' April 27th. 
 ' I am full of busyness, scratching plans, and giving 
 manifold directions ; as much is to be done to make my 
 new dwelling habitable [Mrs. Delany had bought a house 
 in St. James's Place]. The best part is finished, which is 
 paying for it, and that I did on Thursday. I have had 
 all this morning bricklayers and carpenters, and have 
 made use of all my spurs to get it done time eno 1 to 
 settle all my goods and chattels in it before I go to Ham, 
 that at my return I should have nothing to do but sit 
 down quietly in it. 1 
 202 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 In September 1771, Mrs. Port's first child was born, a 
 girl named Georgina Mary Ann, after Lady Cowper, her 
 great-aunt and her grandmother. Mrs. Boscawen writes 
 to her old friend, Mrs. Delany, to congratulate her on the 
 safe and happy arrival of a great-niece, who, she adds, 
 ' has nothing to do but to grow up as like her great and 
 good aunt as ever she can. I have always thought, 1 
 continues the writer naively, < that it is better to begin 
 with a girl. The first is generally tant soit pen enfant 
 gate ; now it is of much less consequence to spoil a girl 
 than a boy ; for he being armed with power, will make his 
 caprices felt, whereas she, being born to obey, will be 
 reduced to submission sooner or later. 1 
 
 Mrs. Delany paid a visit to the Ports at Ham after the 
 birth of the child, and there is a note written by her at 
 Sudbury on her homeward journey, in which she says : 
 ' Could I have attended to the beauties, en passant, 
 between dear sweet Ham and this place, I should present 
 my Mary with such a mixture of pastoral delights as 
 would have served a Claud or a Shenstone for their 
 whole lives ; but I felt a tender string pulling all the 
 way, and my mind could dwell on nothing but what I had 
 enjoyed. However, great as my regret was, I over- 
 flowed with thankfulness to that good Providence who 
 had changed the apprehensions that for some time clouded 
 the fair scenes at Ham, and turned our heaviness into 
 
 The chief sensation of the early part of the year 
 1772 was the opening of the Pantheon in Oxford 
 Street, a place of entertainment which was to cause 
 Almack's and Carlisle House to hide their diminished 
 heads. The Pantheon started with a brilliant mas- 
 querade, and Mrs. Delany writes : ' The lighting, and 
 
 203 
 
MRS. DEL A NY 
 
 brilliant eclat on going in, they say, was beyond all 
 description, and the going in and out made so easy by 
 lanes of constables that there was not the least confusion. 
 To balance these delights, the High Street robbers give 
 many panics, but pleasure will conquer all fears; and 
 the men on horseback with a pistol at their breast will at 
 last grow so familiar as not to be regarded more than a 
 common turnpike that makes you pay for your passage. 
 Feminine fears as well as bashfulness are no more a 
 check upon the female than upon the male maccaronies ; 
 pleasure is the prize they run for, and then nothing stops 
 their course."' 
 
 The deterioration of manners and morals in the younger 
 generation is a subject upon which elderly ladies love to 
 dwell, and Mrs. Delany is no exception to this rule. ' The 
 strange behaviour of the young ladies of the present age,"' 
 she observes, ' makes one tremble for those that are to 
 come upon the stage ; and I think much is owing to the 
 want of that humble respectful deference to parents and 
 elders that we were taught in our childhood. It seems 
 odd in one of seventy-one years of age to link herself with 
 twenty-five ; but you had the blessing of a pattern and 
 instructor who was exempt from the vanity and careless- 
 ness of these modern mothers. 1 
 
 In the letters of this year there are several allusions to 
 the famous naturalists, Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solander, 
 both of whom had accompanied Captain Cook on his 
 voyage round the world. Mrs. Delany met them both at 
 Bulstrode during the summer when they were engaged in 
 preparing an account of their travels, as well as the great 
 work on Natural History which was published at Sir 
 Joseph's sole expense. Among the other visitors to 
 Bulstrode this autumn was the Princess Amelia, whose 
 204 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 coming, says Mrs. Delany, ' made some little disturbance 
 even in this palace. All the comfortable sofas and great 
 chairs, all the pyramids of books, all the tables, and even 
 the spinning-wheel, were banished for the day, and the 
 blew [sic] damask chairs set in prim order round the room, 
 only one arm'd chair placed in the middle of the room for 
 Her Royal Highness. The Duchess met her at the hall 
 door, and I stood in the hall ; when the Princess had paid 
 her compliments to her Grace, she came up to me, and 
 said many civil things, which I hope I answered properly. 
 She was so easy, good-humoured, and entertaining that I 
 was glad I had not absented myself. She was delighted 
 with the place and her entertainment. The Princess went 
 all over the house and garden, but insisted on the Duchess 
 and myself not accompanying her there, only her ladies. 
 We dined at three, and she had a polite attention to every 
 ornament on the table. After dinner she would see my 
 own apartments, and made me display all my frippery 
 work, which she graciously commended. We then 
 adjourned to the library, and at seven the Princess 
 returned to Gunnersbury by moonlight. 1 
 
 For the 16th of September 1772, there is a letter 
 headed : ' To Miss Port of Ham, aged one year, from her 
 Aunt Delany, aged seventy-two,"' which runs as follows : — 
 
 ' My dearest little Child, — This is your birthday, and 
 I wish you joy of its return ; perhaps if you knew what a 
 world you are entered into, so abounding with evil, you 
 would not say " Ta " to me for my congratulations ; but 
 the precept and example of your excellent parents will teach 
 you to make so good a use of the tryals you will necessarily 
 meet with, that they will not only be supportable, but 
 lead to a state of happiness that will have no alloy. This 
 
 205 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 is above your understanding at present, and a rattle or a 
 little squeaking cuckoo will suit you better, so for the 
 present I leave you to your infantine amusements, which I 
 shall be as ready to contribute to when I can, as I am to 
 testify how dearly you are beloved by your great-aunt 
 Delany.' 
 
 206 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 (1772-1776) 
 
 Mrs. Delany does not often indulge in gossip, except of 
 the most harmless kind ; but in the autumn of 1772 the 
 Duchess of Kingston, alias Mrs. Hervey, nee Miss Chud- 
 leigh, was scandalising all London, and an occasional 
 allusion to her and her eccentricities must have been quite 
 irresistible. We read, for example, that her Grace 'has 
 her state coach following her wherever she bestows her 
 presence, with three or four ladies (or rather misses) 
 called her maids of honour. She wears a sash trimmed 
 with roses of ribbon, in each a large diamond, no cap, and 
 diamonds in her hair ; a tucker edged with diamonds, and 
 no more of a tippet than makes her fair bosom con- 
 spicuous rather than hides it.' 
 
 Another lady who had provided the town with a topic 
 of conversation, though of quite a different kind, was the 
 witty Mrs. Montagu. She had lately built herself a fine 
 new house in Hill Street, one room in which had afforded 
 much amusement of a malicious kind to her large circle of 
 acquaintance. This was the room of Cupidons, which was 
 opened with an assembly for all the foreigners, literati, 
 and maccaronies of the day. ' How such a genius,' 
 exclaims Mrs. Delany, ' at her age, and so circumstanced, 
 could think of painting the walls of her dressing-room 
 with bowers of roses and jessamine, entirely inhabited by 
 
 207 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 little cupids in all their wanton ways, is astonishing ! 
 Unless she looks upon herself as the wife of old Vulcan, 
 and mother of all these little loves."' 
 
 In spite of the occasional absurdity of Mrs. Montagu's 
 taste, Mrs. Delany seems to have felt a genuine regard 
 for her, and highly approved her patronage of deserving 
 men of letters, such as Dr. Beattie, author of The Minstrel 
 and the Essay on Truth, an answer to Hume's sceptical 
 essays. Mrs. Delany describes the Christian Philosopher, 
 as he was commonly called, as being plain in appearance, 
 with a sensible, honest countenance, and very modest, 
 civil manners. ' I feel the deepest gratitude to Dr. Beattie,' 
 she writes, 'for his successful endeavours to rescue this 
 nation from that gloomy scepticism which a few false 
 philosophers of dangerously shining talents have so fatally 
 spread among us ; miserable philosophy is that which robs 
 us of every hope in the hour of affliction, and of the sweet 
 sensations of religious gratitude in the enjoyments of 
 prosperity. Do not you honour Mrs. Montagu for the 
 part she has taken to introduce this excellent champion 
 of Christianity into the notice of the great world, and to 
 obtain for him some other reward than that of barren fame ? 1 
 
 There are two or three unpublished letters of this year. 
 In one, dated April 11, Mrs. Delany writes : ' Here is 
 Miss Foley come to carry me off to Lestart's, 1 where she 
 is to sit for her picture. Just returned, not quite satis- 
 fied. The picture is like, but not favourably so ; another 
 sitting I hope will improve it. Lestart is a great artist 
 in his way, but not as a portrait painter, in my poor 
 opinion. 
 
 * On Wednesday I dined at Lord Dartmouth's. Beside 
 his own lovely family (eight in number), there was Lord 
 1 Listard, the miniaturist, born at Geneva 1702. 
 
 208 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Guildford, and Mrs. and Mr. Montagu, etc. (a table of 
 ten, two removes, second course 14, dessert 16 — that's for 
 P.) ... I believe I did not tell you I had been at the 
 painter's Tuesday morning with les amans [Miss Foley 
 and Lord Clanbrazil]. I saw a picture of Lestarfs doing 
 of himself in miniature, admired it, and next day Lord 
 Clanbrazil made me a present of it — his whole behaviour 
 is delicate and generous. . . . The present prattle of the 
 town is Lord Folkestone's match being broken off with 
 Miss Duncombe — various reasons. The true one, I be- 
 lieve, that the girl did not know her own mind, not 
 seventeen years of age — no mother to conduct her. Some 
 say she likes somebody else who has persuaded her that 
 Lord Folkestone only married her for her fortune ; it is 
 not clear that it may not still prove a match, and that 
 the article of fortune may palliate the affront.' 
 
 'Dec. 6. 
 ' At last Lord Caermarthen is married, and must be the 
 most ungrateful of all men if he does not make an excellent 
 husband to a lady who has shown so extraordinary a 
 partiality to him. Her finery was excessive — eight full- 
 dressed gowns and petticoats, twelve dressed sacks, twelve 
 negligees, with laces and all suitable. But she hates dress 
 as much as her mother loves it ; at their age they should 
 exchange dispositions. I wish you joy of your new cousin 
 Talmache, 1 the sea-man whose income is ,£500 a year. He 
 has spent his fortune, but by some means has found the 
 way to Lady Bridget Lane's heart, and if not already 
 married, is to be soon. She has been cunning eno' to 
 secure everything for herself, and is so gracious as to allow 
 
 1 Mrs. Delany alludes to John Tollemache, Captain, R.N., fourth son 
 of Lord Dysart, who married Lady Grace Carteret. John Tollemache 
 married Lady Bridget Lane Fox, and was killed in a duel in New York 
 in the twenty-fifth year of his age. 
 
 o 209 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 him his annuity for his pocket-money. The courtship 
 was singular and laconish. Mr. Talmache admired a 
 fine ring upon Lady B/s finger. She made him a present 
 of it, and desired in return a small plain gold hoop-ring. 
 The proposal accepted, she said to him, " Are you not a 
 lucky man to be preferred to all my numerous admirers ? w 
 He replied, " I suppose you like me better than any of 
 them."" There 's gallantry and delicacy for you ! . . . 
 
 ' As to your new friend whom you have introduced in 
 such a manner to my esteem, I am afraid she will have a 
 good deal to answer for, unless she proves as merciful as 
 powerful. It is a subject I can't joke upon, nor be in- 
 different to. My opinion and knowledge of your brothers 1 
 virtue, so uncommon in this degenerate age, their in- 
 genuity as well as good sense, their steady adherence to 
 their several duties and engagements in life, and the 
 preference they give to a reasonable enjoyment of the 
 blessings they possess, to the empty show and vanity of 
 the world (which their education and connections might 
 easily have led them into), will, I trust, make them worthy 
 
 even of a Miss I ' 
 
 Early in the year 1773, Mrs. John Chapone (nee 
 Hester Mulso) brought out her Letters to a Young Lady 
 on the Improvement of the Mind, a little work which at 
 one bound leaped into fame. Mrs. Delany was perhaps 
 a little prejudiced in favour of the book by the fact 
 that its author was the daughter-in-law of her old friend 
 Sally Chapone. ' It appears,' she says, ' to be upon the 
 best plan I have ever met with on the subject. It is plain 
 truth in an easy elegant style, and the sentiments natural 
 and delicate. ... It sells prodigiously. One should hope 
 from that, though there are many corrupted minds, there 
 are also many ready to listen to the voice of the charmer.'' 
 210 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Another work of a very different type was making a great 
 sensation about the same time. This was Lord Chester- 
 field's Letters, which in Mrs. Delany's opinion were 'a 
 medley of sense, knowledge of the world, attention to the 
 minutest articles of good breeding, entertainment, satire, 
 and immorality, and not a few inconsistencies ; for at the 
 same time he recommends decency of behaviour and avoid- 
 ing all low vices, he recommends everything that can shake 
 the foundation of virtue and religion, though at times he 
 mentions both as necessary. In short, " all wickedness is 
 folly, and all folly is inconsistency ," says a wise man that 
 I suppose Lord Chesterfield was never acquainted with, or 
 at least was not wise enough to be instructed by him. 1 
 Later, when Bernard Granville lay ill at Calwich, his 
 sister sent him Chester field's Letters in the hope that they 
 would amuse him, and gave a further criticism of the book, 
 a criticism which is interesting as the contemporary opinion 
 of an intelligent woman. ' I am not at all surprised," 1 
 she writes, ' that you should be entertained with Lord 
 Chesterfields Letters, and approve of many of them, but 
 I am afraid as you go on his duplicity and immorality 
 will give you as much offence as his indiscriminating 
 accusation does the ladies. Those who do not deserve his 
 lash despise it, and conclude he kept very bad company. 
 Those who are conscious they deserve his censure will 
 be piqued, but silent. The general opinion of these 
 letters among the better sort of men is that they are 
 ingenious, useful as to polish of manners, but very hurtful 
 in a moral sense. He mentions a decent regard to religion, 
 at the same time recommends falsehood even to your most 
 intimate acquaintance — and adultery as an accomplish- 
 ment. Les graces are the sum-total of his religion. 
 The conclusion of his life showed how inferior his heart 
 
 211 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 was to his head ; unkind and ungrateful to an excellent 
 wife, who had laid great obligations upon him, and the 
 same to all his dependants. 1 
 
 In the early ' seventies,' the blue-stockings, male and 
 female, were causing a good deal of amusement to their 
 more frivolous acquaintance. Mrs. Delany, though she 
 had many friends among them, never herself belonged to 
 any of their coteries, and had but small sympathy with 
 the pedantic absurdities practised by the more advanced 
 members of the society. Although she afterwards became 
 much attached to Miss Burney, she refused to know either 
 Mrs. Thrale or Doctor Johnson, in spite of the high ad- 
 miration in which she held the moral and intellectual 
 qualities of the latter. Doctor Johnson, however, was 
 acquainted with the Ports, and paid a visit to Ham in 
 July 1774, though curiously enough there is no mention 
 of the visit in any of the letters for that year. It is 
 recorded that in speaking of Mrs. Delany, Doctor Johnson 
 said he had heard Edmund Burke observe that she was 
 ' a truly great woman of fashion, that she was not only 
 the woman of fashion of the present age, but the highest 
 bred woman in the world, and the woman of fashion of 
 all ages." 1 
 
 In a letter dated May 10, 1774, there is an account of 
 the assembly of blue-stockings which was in the habit of 
 meeting at Mrs. Miller's house at Bath Easton. ' Once 
 a week the wits produce their works, judgment passes, 
 and a prize is given to the best. Lady Spencer and 
 Lady Georgina Spencer were invited to a breakfast and 
 to partake of the poetical entertainment. Amongst other 
 offerings of the Muses, Mr. Miller read one addressed to 
 Lady Georgina, which perhaps you have seen in the 
 Public Advertiser, without wishing to know the author — 
 212 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 too gross a flattery not to distress the person chiefly con- 
 cerned, who blushed and looked down in the utmost 
 confusion. Said Mr. Miller, " Sure, the author of the 
 verses deserves the prize for having chosen so fine a 
 subject.'" It would have been a poor compliment to have 
 disputed that judgment in the presence of the person, and 
 accordingly it was agreed to, and the author to be de- 
 clared. " It was I," says Mr. Miller. " And now I will 
 read them over again,"" which he was preparing to do 
 when Lady Spencer relieved poor Lady Georgina by 
 making her curtsey an excuse, and withdrew. 1 
 
 A month later the young beauty, who had been put so 
 much out of countenance by Mr. Miller's effusion, was 
 married to the Duke of Devonshire. ' The great wedding 
 is over,' writes Mrs. Delany on June 7, 'and at last a 
 surprise, for this was the expected day ; but they managed 
 very cleverly, as they were all at the Birthday, and the 
 Duke and Duchess danced at the ball. It was as great a 
 secret to Lady Georgina as to the world. Sunday morning 
 she was told her doom ; she went out of town (to Wimble- 
 don) early on Sunday, and they were married at Wimble- 
 don Church, as quietly and uncrowded as if John and Joan 
 had tied the Gordian knot. Don't think that because I 
 have made use of the word ' doom ' that it was a melan- 
 choly sentence (though a surprise) to the young lady ; for 
 she is so peculiarly happy as to think him very agreeable, 
 and had not the least regret — a bliss which I most sin- 
 cerely hope will prove a lasting one. The Duke's intimate 
 friends say he has sense, and does not want for merit — to 
 be sure the jewel has not been well polished ; had he 
 fallen under the tuition of Lord Chesterfield, he might 
 have possessed les graces, but at present only that of his 
 dukedom belongs to him. 1 
 
 213 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 The great social event of this season was the splendid 
 Fete Champetre, given in honour of the approaching mar- 
 riage of Lord Stanley x and Lady Betty Hamilton. Mrs. 
 Delany sends Mrs. Port the following description of the 
 entertainment, which came from one of the company : — 
 
 ' I think it a fairy scene that may equal any in Madame 
 Danois. Lord Stanley, the master of the entertainment, 
 was dressed like Reubens, Lady Betty Hamilton like 
 Reubens' wife. The company were received upon the 
 lawn before the house, which is scattered with trees, 
 and opens to the downs. The company arriving made 
 the scene most enchanting, and it was greatly enlivened 
 by a most beautiful setting sun breaking from a black 
 cloud in its greatest glory. After half an hour's saunter- 
 ing, the company were called to the other side, to a more 
 confined spot, where benches were placed in a semicircle, 
 and a fortunate clump of trees in the centre of a small 
 lawn had a band of music ; a stage was formed by a part 
 being divided from the other part of the garden with 
 sticks entwined with natural flowers in wreaths and 
 festoons. A little dialogue between a shepherd and a 
 shepherdess, with a welcome to the company, was sung 
 and said, and then dancing by sixteen men and sixteen 
 women, Jigurant'is from the opera, lasted about half 
 an hour, after which the party was employed in swinging, 
 shooting with bows and arrows, and various country 
 sports. The gentlemen and ladies danced on the green 
 till it was dark, and then preceded the music to the other 
 side of the garden, where a magnificent saloon had been 
 built, illuminated, and decorated with the utmost elegance ; 
 here they danced till supper, when curtains were drawn 
 
 1 Afterwards Earl of Derby. His second wife was Miss Farren, the 
 actress. 
 
 214 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 up, which showed the supper in a most convenient and 
 elegant apartment which was built quite round the 
 saloon. After the supper, which was exceedingly good 
 there was an interlude, in which a Druid entered as an 
 inhabitant of the Oaks, welcomed Lady Betty, described 
 the happiness of Lord Stanley, and in a prophetic strain 
 foretold the happiness that must follow so happy a union, 
 which, with choruses and singing and dancing by the 
 dryads, Cupid and Hymen attending, concluded with 
 a transparent painting with the crest of Hamilton and 
 Stanley surrounded by emblems of Cupid and Hymen 
 crowning it with a wreath of flowers. People in general 
 were very elegantly dressed ; the very young as peasants, 
 the next as Polonaise, the matrons in dominos, and the 
 men in dominos, and many gardiniers, as in the opera 
 dances. 1 
 
 During this summer Mrs. Delany was much distressed 
 on account of her brother's painful and lingering illness. 
 The journey to Calwich was too long and too tiring to 
 admit of her undertaking it ; the most that she could do 
 was to write frequent gossiping letters, in the hope that 
 they might amuse and distract the invalid. In July she 
 writes from Bulstrode on a subject which, a little later, was 
 to create an extraordinary sensation in society — the trial 
 for bigamy of the Duchess of Kingston. This notorious lady 
 had made a short visit to England, and then set off for 
 Russia, ' her sudden flight occasioned by Mr. Evelyn 
 Meadows having gone to law with her to prove her marriage 
 with Mr. Hervey, which it is thought he will certainly do, 
 having gained a certain evidence of it — a man whom the 
 Duchess of Kingston gave ten thousand pounds as hush- 
 money, and who for the same sum from Mr. Meadows is 
 gained against her. So rogues betray rogues ; it is happy 
 
 215 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 when the innocent escape their snares. ... I don't wonder 
 that our young men are entertained with Lord ChesterfieWs 
 Letters, and I trust their principles are too well grounded 
 to be hurt by their immorality. The present Lord Chester- 
 field is gone to finish his travels. He came over on the 
 death of the late Lord, and is not yet of age. I don't 
 hear him commended, and his behaviour to Lady Chester- 
 field was very unhandsome. He was a distant relation to 
 the late Lord, but the nearest to the title. Lord Chester- 
 field educated this boy, and had an attention to him, not 
 out of kindness, but because he was to keep up the name 
 and title, and left him near twenty thousand pounds a 
 year. Lady Chesterfield's income is i?4000 a year, but 
 chiefly her own money. It was hard, considering how 
 good a wife she had been, and what a good fortune she 
 was to him, not to leave her in very affluent circumstances 
 for her own life. He even left away her jewels, which 
 were chiefly purchased with her own money, and presents 
 of the Duchess of Kendal's, but the law restored them to 
 her as her own paraphernalia.' 
 
 Mrs. Delany never ceased to take an interest in the 
 career of her young cousin, the Duchess of Devonshire, 
 and there is an obvious allusion to the fashionable beauty 
 in a letter dated March 1775 : ' I really can say with 
 Cato, " I am sick of this bad world," when I suffer my 
 imagination to wander among the multitude ; it would be 
 more supportable could one select a number of any magni- 
 tude not affected by the great whirlpool of dissipation 
 and (indeed, I fear I may add) vice. This bitter reflec- 
 tion rises from what I hear everybody say of a great and 
 handsome relation of ours j ust beginning her part ; but 
 I do hope she will be like the other young actors and 
 actresses who begin by over-acting when they first come 
 216 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 upon the stage, and abate of her superabundant spirits 
 (that now mislead her), and settle into a character worthy 
 of applause and of the station she possesses, but I tremble 
 for her ! ' 
 
 Mrs. Delany certainly would not have approved of the 
 Duchess's enthusiasm for politics, or her canvassing tactics 
 at the Westminster election ; for in a letter to Mr. Gran- 
 ville, written early in 1775, she observes : ' The world is 
 in a bother about the American affairs, but I am no 
 politician, and don't enter into those matters. Women 
 lose all dignity when they enter into subjects that don't 
 belong to them ; their own sphere affords them oppor- 
 tunities eno' to show their real consequence. A pretend- 
 ing woman and a trifling, ignorant man are equally 
 despicable.' 
 
 On July 2, 1775, Mr. Bernard Granville died at 
 Calwich. His death was a sensible shock to his sister, 
 though he had not been a particularly kind or affectionate 
 brother, never having quite forgiven her for her second 
 marriage with a man of obscure family. His nephew, the 
 Reverend John Dewes, inherited Calwich, and, some years 
 later, took the name of Granville. 
 
 In the letters for 1775 are several allusions to Mason's 
 Life of Gray, which was evidently the book of the day, 
 and to the trial of the Duchess of Kingston, which enter- 
 tainment seems to have been patronised by the whole 
 fashionable world. 'The solicitude for tickets,' writes 
 Mrs. Delany, 'the distress of rising early to be time 
 enough for a place, the anxiety about hairdressers, morti- 
 fication that feathers and flying lappets should be laid 
 aside for that day, as they would obstruct the view, — all 
 these important matters were discussed in my little circle 
 last night. ... I bravely refused a ticket for the Queen's 
 
 217 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 box, and going with our dear Duchess, for I feared the 
 bustle my spirits would be in, now unused to such splendid 
 appearances, and doubted whether my eyesight and hear- 
 ing would have been at all gratified. 1 Later she adds : 
 ' Greatly to the general satisfaction, the shameless Duchess 
 is degraded into as shameless a countess. Sure there never 
 was so thorough an actress. Garrick says she has so much 
 outacted him, it is time for him to leave the stage ; but 
 that does her too much honour. One should search the 
 jails for the perjured, notorious offenders for a parallel to 
 such an infamous character. She has, however, escaped 
 the searing of her hand, and is turned over for condign 
 punishment to her conscience. It was astonishing how she 
 was able to speak for three-quarters of an hour, which 
 she did yesterday, but it was labour in vain. Bernard 
 was there four days, and so much fatigued with sitting 
 ten or twelve hours that he gave up the last day, but he 
 was at the most entertaining part of it. 1 
 
 It is in the letters for 1776 that we find the first 
 allusion to Mrs. Delany's famous paper mosaic Flora, now 
 in the Print-room at the British Museum. 1 This extra- 
 ordinary work was the wonder and admiration of her 
 contemporaries, and the subject of praise from Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, Horace Walpole, Dr. Darwin, and many other 
 distinguished men. The following account is given of 
 the manner in which the idea of a paper Flora first 
 occurred to the inventor : ' Having a piece of Chinese 
 paper on the table of bright scarlet, a scarlet geranium 
 of the same colour caught Mrs. Delany's eye ; and taking 
 out her scissors, she amused herself with cutting out each 
 flower in the paper which resembled its hue ; she laid the 
 paper petals on a black ground, and was so pleased with 
 1 Bequeathed by Lady Llanover. 
 
 218 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 the effect that she proceeded to cut out the calyx, stalks, 
 and leaves in different shades of green, and pasted them 
 down. After she had completed a sprig of geranium in 
 this way, the Duchess of Portland came in, and exclaimed, 
 " What are you doing with that geranium ?" having taken 
 the paper imitation for the real flower. Mrs. Delany 
 replied that if the Duchess really thought it so like the 
 original, a new work was begun from that moment ' [1773]. 
 The work thus casually begun was continued for more 
 than ten years ; and when failing eyesight compelled the 
 artist to give up the undertaking, her Flora contained 
 close upon a thousand delineations of flowers and plants. 
 There is an allusion to the new occupation in a gossiping 
 letter to Mrs. Port, dated April 1776. ' I don't think,' 
 writes Mrs. Delany, ' I have heard this winter of so many 
 pranks as the last ; indeed, everybody has been so taken 
 up with the modern Moll Flanders [the Duchess of 
 Kingston] that nothing else has been talked of. She is 
 now gone to the Pope for absolution, but the Meadows 
 have not done with her yet. . . . Since I last wrote I 
 had a visit from the Duchess of Gordon ; she is beautiful 
 indeed. Lady Bute brought her here under the pretence 
 of showing her my herbal, on purpose to treat me with 
 her beauty. She is very natural and good-humoured, but 
 her very broad Scotch accent does not seem to belong to 
 the very great delicacy of her appearance. The spring 
 flowers supply me with work, for I have already done 
 since the beginning of March twenty plants." 1 
 
 219 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 (1776-1779) 
 
 In the summer of 1776 occurred the first informal meet- 
 ing between Mrs. Delany and the couple who were to 
 prove her truest and most devoted friends during the 
 remainder of her days — George the Third and Queen 
 Charlotte. On August 16th Mrs. Delany writes to Mrs. 
 Port from Bulstrode : ' Though the King and Queen drink 
 tea here this evening, and the Duchess threatens to pro- 
 duce me among the antiquities, I am composed enough 
 to thank my darling Mary for her letter, and hope the 
 agreeable party succeeded according to your wishes. It is 
 very pleasant to see the improvement of our manufactures, 
 and to consider how many poor people are supported by 
 them that otherwise would be starving, or following 
 desperate courses for their maintenance ; but I fear it is 
 a great sign of the depravity of our nation that though 
 there is all manner of encouragements and employments 
 to engage them besides defending their country from re- 
 bellious oppression, that there should at this time be so 
 much robbing, but I am very apt to think those dis- 
 honourable collectors are more among the middling than 
 the poorer sort ; everybody in all ranks and degrees live 
 above their fortunes — avarice, vanity, and pride make 
 spendthrifts. Only an hours reflection on their conduct, 
 had they any principles, would show them how much 
 more disgraceful it is to run in debt than to retrench in 
 220 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 order to do justice, or to live within bounds in order to 
 prevent what in time must bring ruin or disgrace to their 
 families. I am led to these reflections from having heard so 
 much lately of our cousins [the Foleys], but it seems I must 
 have thrown away some compassion, for it is now thought 
 a good joke that Lady Harriet Foley was handed out 
 of her own house into her coach by two bailiffs. Ah ! poor 
 bashfulness ! Ah ! gentle modesty ! where are you flown ? 
 Extravagance and effrontery have taken your places. 1 
 
 In a letter to Lady Andover, Mrs. Delany gives the 
 following account of the royal visit : ' Great have been 
 our visiting exploits, numerous have been the visitors 
 of all sorts and sizes, from the King and Lord Mansfield 
 down to Edmund Burke, from the Queen and Lady 
 Weymouth down to Miss Wheat. On Monday evening, 
 between six and seven, came their serene Majesties, 
 in a chaise with a pair of horses and grooms attend- 
 ing. Lady Weymouth came with them. All things 
 were prepared for their reception, and the drawing-room 
 divested of every comfortable circumstance. I pleaded 
 hard with her Grace for permission to go that day to 
 London ; she was inexorable ; but I still had hopes that 
 so insignificant a person would be overlooked, and that I 
 should be fully gratified with seeing their royalties from 
 the window, or through a keyhole ! But I was mistaken, 
 and Lady Weymouth was sent by the Queen to desire I 
 would bring the hortus siccus. I obeyed, and what does 
 your Ladyship think ? — that I was miserable or wished 
 myself at York ? No, truly ; I was charmed, and I was 
 pleased, and I even wished they had staid half an hour 
 longer. They did great justice to dear Lady Weymouth's 
 merit, and spoke not only with approbation, but with 
 kindness, of everybody they knew our most dear friend had 
 
 221 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 a regard for; nor was Lord Suffolk and Lady Andover 
 forgot ! In short, had I been told that the King and Queen 
 had made the Duchess of Portland a visit, and that she was 
 neither weary nor hurt by it, I could hardly have believed it 
 — but, indeed, they seemed to receive great pleasure from it 
 themselves, took notice, and admired everything ; and, 
 above all, I am sure, the possessor of what gave them so 
 much entertainment. I had my panics that she would 
 stand till she grew faint, but the King and Queen insisted 
 on her sitting down the greatest part of the time. 1 
 
 In November of this year, Court Dewes, Mrs. Delany's 
 eldest nephew, paid a visit to Paris, carrying with him a 
 letter of introduction to Rousseau. From thence he 
 wrote a long and interesting letter to his aunt, with the 
 following curious account of his endeavour to find the 
 sentimental philosopher : ' I am not without hopes of 
 seeing Rousseau, though I have not done so as yet. As 
 soon as I arrived I called at his lodgings, up three pair of 
 stairs, in an unfashionable part of the town, and a mean- 
 looking house, making a striking contrast to the ostenta- 
 tion with which his rival Voltaire lives at his chateau, as 
 he calls it, at Ferney. I was admitted into a little kind 
 of ante-chamber, filled with bird-cages; there I saw 
 Madame Rousseau {ne'e Vasseur). She told me her hus- 
 band (she repeated " bon man M ten times, I believe, in the 
 course of five minutes'' conversation) had had a fall, had 
 hurt himself, and could not see anybody ; but if I would 
 call in a week's time, I might see him. I left my letter, 
 and in about a week sent to know how he did, and if he 
 was well enough to admit me ; but he still continued too 
 ill to receive visits. I fancy he is really so, for I do not 
 find that when he is well he is uncommonly difficult of 
 access. He now has resumed his first occupation, and 
 222 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 copies music for hire, esteeming it his duty to evince by 
 his practice the truth of what he has somewhere said, 
 that every one in society ought to have some occupation. 
 I shall call upon him again to-morrow, and then, if I do 
 not succeed, give the matter up.* > 
 
 There is an occasional allusion to the war with America 
 during the winter ; and in a letter dated May 1778 is the 
 announcement of the death of Lord Chatham. ' He never 
 recovered his fall in the House of Lords, but I dare say it 
 was a consolation to him, under all sufferings, to think 
 that he died in his calling. Many panegyrics, many 
 aspersions, will be bandied backwards and forwards, as no 
 man ever was higher or lower in his sentiments and in the 
 estimation of the world ; but he had undoubtedly great 
 abilities, and he had served his country. He would have 
 been a truly great character had not an unbounded am- 
 bition, and a vanity hardly to be equalled, tarnished his 
 good qualities. What havoc do those two great under- 
 miners of virtue make in the human heart! and how 
 much safer and more eligible is that state of life that 
 saves us from such destructive temptations ! ' 
 
 The name of Hannah More first makes its appearance 
 in the correspondence about this time. Mrs. Boscawen, 
 writing to Mrs. Delany in June 1778, remarks: ' I am very 
 glad you approve of Miss More's Essays; such an im- 
 primatur does her honour. I believe her to be a worthy 
 and religious woman of exceedingly good principles, and 
 then one may hope that whatever she writes may do some 
 good ; at least, we are sure it can do no harm. She wrote 
 that she had the honour of a very polite card from Mrs. 
 Delany, and was much flattered with her notice.' 
 
 In Hannah More's poem, ' Sensibility, 1 which appeared in 
 1778, many of the great (and little) people of the day 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 were described in terms of rather fulsome laudation. The 
 Duchess of Portland, Mrs. Boscawen, and Mrs. Delany 
 were all immortalised (!) in this effusion, the latter being 
 the subject of the following lines : — 
 
 ' Delany shines, in worth serenely bright, 
 Wisdom's strong ray, and virtue's milder light. 
 And she who blessed the friend and graced the page 
 Of Swift, still lends her lustre to our age : 
 Long, long protract thy light, O star benign ! 
 Whose setting beams with added brightness shine !' 
 
 In the summer of 1778 the social intercourse between 
 Bulstrode and Windsor grew more intimate, and visits to 
 and from the royal neighbours were of frequent occurrence. 
 On August 12 (the Prince of Wales' birthday) the King 
 and Queen, with eight of their children and numerous 
 attendants, fifty persons in all, drove over to breakfast at 
 Bulstrode. The letters to Mrs. Port and Lady Andover 
 contain full accounts of all that passed on this occasion, 
 and also during the return visit to Windsor, which 
 took place a day later. 'Before twelve o'clock, 1 writes 
 Mrs. Delany, ' the cavalcade drove into the court, the 
 Dowager-Duchess of Portland ready on the steps at the 
 hall-door to receive her royal guests. I was below stairs 
 in my own apartment, not dressed, and uncertain if I 
 should be thought of. But down came Lady Weymouth 
 (with her pretty eyes sparkling) with the Queen's com- 
 mands that I should attend her, which I did. The Queen 
 most graciously came up to me and the three princesses. 
 The King and the two eldest princes were in the dining-room 
 looking at the pictures, but soon came in, and they all went 
 in a train through the great apartment to the Duchess's 
 china closet, and, with wondering and inquiring eyes, 
 admired all her magnificent curiosities. They staid above 
 224 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 half an hour, and I took that time to take breath, 
 and sit down quietly in the drawing-room. When they 
 returned, the Queen sat down and called me to her to 
 talk about the chenille work, praising it much more 
 than it deserved, but with a politeness that could not fail 
 of giving pleasure; and, indeed, her manners are most 
 engaging, there is so much dignity and affability blended 
 that it is hard to say whether one's respect or love pre- 
 dominates. 
 
 'The Duchess brought her Majesty a dish of tea, rolls 
 and cakes, which she accepted, but would carry it back 
 herself when she had drunk the tea into the gallery, 
 where everything proper for the time of day was prepared. 
 The King drank chocolate; the younger part of the company 
 seemed to take a good share of all the good things. The 
 King was all spirits and good humour, extremely pleased, 
 as well as the Queen, with the place and the entertainment. 
 The King asked me if I had added to my book of flowers, 
 and desired he might see it. It was placed on a table 
 before the Queen, who was attended by the Princess Royal 
 and the rest of the ladies, the King standing and looking 
 over them. I kept my distance till the Queen called to 
 me to answer some question about a flower, when I came, 
 and the King brought a chair and set it at the table, and 
 graciously took my hand and seated me in it, an honour 
 I could not receive without some confusion and hesitation. 
 " Sit down, sit down," said her Majesty ; " it is not every 
 one has a chair brought them by a king."''' 
 
 ' It would take a quire of paper to tell you all that 
 passed at Bulstrode that morning ; and I must carry you 
 on to new scenes and honours at Windsor. I had an 
 opportunity of saying to the Queen that it had long been 
 my wish to see all the royal family. Upon which she said, 
 r 225 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 " You have not seen them all yet, but if you will come 
 to Windsor Castle with the Duchess you shall see them 
 altogether." The King came up to us ; and on her telling 
 him what had passed, he confirmed the same, and the 
 next day was named, but that I must defer to another 
 opportunity. 1 
 
 The story of the return visit is told in a letter dated 
 August 21 : 'I was commanded to attend the Duchess of 
 Portland to Windsor Castle, Avhich I did. We got there 
 by six, the hour appointed, and was received in the lower 
 apartment at the castle. In the first large room were the 
 three eldest princesses and the ladies that attend them. 
 We passed through to the Queen's bed-chamber, where she 
 was with Lady Weymouth and Lady Charlotte Finch. 
 She received the Duchess with gracious smiles, and was so 
 easy and condescending in her manner to me, that I felt 
 no perturbation, though it is so long a time since I was 
 conversant with kings and courts. The Queen sate down, 
 and not only made the ladies do the same, but had a 
 chair placed for me opposite to her, asking me at the same 
 time " if it was too much in the air from the door and the 
 window.'" What dignity such strokes of humanity and 
 delicate good breeding add to the highest rank ! In that 
 room were the two youngest princesses, one not three, the 
 other not a year old, both lovely children. Princess 
 Mary, a delightful little creature, curtseying and prattling 
 to everybody. She calls the Duchess " Lady Weymouth's 
 mama.' 1 She asked me if I was " another mama of Lady 
 Weymouth's." A little before seven the King and his 
 seven sons came into the room ; and after a great deal of 
 gracious conversation, the Queen told the Duchess she 
 hoped she would excuse her taking her usual walk with 
 the King and all the princes and princesses on the terrace, 
 226 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 "as the people constantly expected to see them." The 
 Queen said she would leave Lady Weymouth, that the 
 Duchess might not lose any of her company, and the Queen 
 went and fetched the Bishop of Lichfield to be of our 
 party until they came in from their walk, which lasted 
 half an hour. When they returned, the King, Queen, etc., 
 went into the next room, where the musick was playing and 
 the tea ready. I kept back, as you may imagine, not 
 advancing but as I was called. Princess Mary was sitting 
 in the first window, looking at the crowd gathered under 
 it. I stopped, and she asked me several questions, in 
 which time I was separated from the rest of my train, and 
 liked my corner so well that I remained there. 
 
 ' The princes and princesses had a mind to dance. They 
 were permitted to do so, and were a pretty show indeed. 
 I was so pleased with seeing them dance that I forgot I 
 was standing all the time, when the Duke of Montague 
 came up to me and drew a chair for me, saying the King 
 had sent him to desire me to sit down, which I then found 
 I was glad to do. The princes, between their dances, 
 came up and talked to me with the greatest politeness and 
 good humour. The King came to the Prince of Wales, 
 who was standing near me, and said he thought they had 
 better dance no more to that musick, being composed of 
 hautbois and other wind musick, as he thought it must 
 be painful to them to play any longer, and his Majesty 
 was sure the princes would be unwilling to hurt them, but 
 at the Queens house they should have properer musick, 
 and dance as long as they liked. The word was given, 
 and their Majesties walked to the Queen's house, which is 
 across the great court and part of Windsor town. The 
 Queen said that she had ordered a chaise for the Duchess 
 and me, as she thought that walking might not be agree- 
 
 227 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 able. We followed, and were ushered into the house by 
 the gentlemen that were ready at the door. Indeed, the 
 entrance into the first room was eblouissante after coming 
 out of the sombre apartment in Windsor, all furnished 
 with beautiful Indian paper, chairs covered with em- 
 broideries of the liveliest colours, glasses, tables, sconces, 
 in the best taste, the whole calculated to give the greatest 
 cheerfulness to the place. The second room we passed 
 through was the musick room, where the concert began as 
 soon as we entered. As I was the last in the train, and 
 timid of being too forward, I stopped in this room, where 
 the King soon came, took me by the hand, and led me into 
 the drawing-room. After looking about and admiring 
 the encouragement given to our own manufactures, we 
 went back into the first room, and were all seated. The 
 Prince of Wales and the Bishop of Osnaburg [Prince 
 Frederick] began the ball, and danced a minuet better 
 than I ever saw it danced. Then the Prince of Wales 
 danced with the Princess Royal, who has a very graceful, 
 agreeable air, but not a good ear. The delightful little 
 Princess Mary, who had been a spectator all this time, 
 then danced with Prince Adolphus a dance of their own 
 composing, and soon after all were dispersed. We got 
 into the chaise about ten, and got home very much pleased 
 with our entertainment, and less fatigued than I could 
 have imagined. 1 
 
 Towards the end of 1778 Mrs. Port brought up her 
 little daughter Georgina, then seven years old, to stay 
 with her great-aunt Delany, and take lessons from London 
 masters. Mrs. Delany had begged that she might have 
 the charge of her niece, and the arrangement seems to 
 have proved in every way a happy one ; the small Georgina 
 being, as her aunt frequently affirms, as good as gold, and 
 228 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 no trouble. The child's first letter home does great credit 
 to her seven years, and proves that the relations between 
 parents and children at that date were not so universally 
 distant and formal as is generally supposed. 
 
 < I was so happy with your letter, dear mama, 1 begins 
 Georgina, « that I longed to write to you, but Mr. Bolton 
 [the writing-master] was cruel, though A. D. [Aunt Delany] 
 is not. I am very happy here. I often think of you, and 
 wish you could now and then step over here just to see how 
 well A. D. and I agree, and that I might kiss my dear mama 
 and ask her blessing. I have seen a number of fine people, 
 and Lady Cowper in all her jewels, with a rose in the 
 middle of her bows. My A. D. insists on my wearing 
 gloves, and tells me I am to take rhubarb— I don't like it, 
 but I will do it because you desire it. Mr. French [the 
 dancing-master] is very tall, makes fine bows, takes a great 
 deal of pains, and says " Bravo ! " when I do well. The 
 Duchess of Portland has brought me from Bulstrode all 
 the flowers you can think of, and she asks me every day 
 how my A. D. does.' 
 
 Mrs. Delany continued to work at her paper Flora as 
 diligently as she had formerly worked at her painting. 
 The latter pursuit she had not the heart to take up again 
 after her husband's death, and the consequent loss of his 
 approval and encouragement. In July 1779 she wrote 
 down the following short account of the motives which 
 had led to the undertaking of this work : — 
 
 ' The paper mosaic work was begun in the seventy-fourth 
 year of my age (which I at first only meant as an imitation 
 of a hortus siccus) and as an employment and amusement 
 to supply the loss of those which had formerly been a 
 delight to me, but had lost their power of pleasing, being 
 deprived of that friend whose partial approbation was my 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 pride, and had stampt a value on them. Though the effect 
 of this work was more than I expected, I thought that a 
 whim of my own fancy might fondly beguile my judgment 
 to think better of it than it deserved ; and I should have 
 dropped the attempt as vain had not the Duchess Dowager 
 of Portland looked on it with favourable eyes. Her 
 approbation was such a sanction to my undertaking as 
 made it appear of consequence, and gave me courage to 
 go on with confidence. To her I owe the spirit of pursuing 
 it with diligence and pleasure. To her I owe more than 
 I dare express, but my heart will ever feel with the utmost 
 gratitude and tenderest affection the honour I have enjoyed 
 in her most generous, steady, and delicate friendship for 
 above forty years. Mary Delany. 
 
 'The same desire, the same ingenious arts 
 Delighted both, we owned and blessed that power 
 That joined at once our studies and our hearts.' 
 
 Mrs. Delany's remarkable success in her newly-invented 
 art attracted, as has been said, a great deal of attention 
 from her contemporaries. Sir Joseph Banks, the famous 
 naturalist, used to say that her paper representations of 
 flowers were the only imitations of Nature he had ever 
 seen from which he could venture to describe hotankally 
 any plant without the least fear of making a mistake. 
 Dr. Erasmus Darwin in his Botanical Garden alludes to 
 the Flora with about as much accuracy as poetical in- 
 spiration in the following lines : — 
 
 1 So now Delany forms her mimic bowers, 
 Her paper foliage and her silken flowers ; 
 Her virgin train the tender scissors ply, 
 Vein the green leaf, the purple petals dye ; 
 Round wiry stems the flaxen tendril bends, 
 Moss creeps below, and waxen fruit impends. 
 230 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Cold winter views amid his realms of snow 
 Delany's vegetable statues blow ; 
 Smoothes his stern brow, delays his hoary wing, 
 And eyes with wonder all the blooms of spring. ' 
 
 Prosaic as this tribute sounds, it yet contains a highly 
 imaginative description of the Flora, which was composed 
 entirely of coloured paper. Lady Llanover gives the 
 following minute account of the inventor's methods : — 
 ' Mrs. Delany placed the growing plant before her. 
 Behind it she put a sheet of black paper, doubled in 
 the form of a folding screen, which, forming a dark 
 background, threw out distinctly the outlines of the 
 leaves and flowers. She did not draw the plant, but by 
 her eye cut out each flower, or rather each petal, as it 
 appeared ; the lights and shades were afterwards cut 
 out, and laid on, being pasted one over the other. The 
 stamina and leaves were done in the same manner, in 
 various coloured papers, which she used to procure from 
 captains of vessels coining from China, and from paper- 
 stainers, from whom she used to buy pieces of paper in 
 which the colours had run, producing unusual tints. In 
 this manner she procured her materials, but that part of 
 the work which appears likely ever to remain a mystery is 
 the way in which by the eye alone scissors could be 
 directed to cut out the innumerable parts necessary to 
 complete the outline and shading of every leaf, flower, 
 and stem so that they all hung together and fitted each 
 other as if they had been produced instantaneously by the 
 stroke of a magic wand.'' 
 
 231 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 (1779-1783) 
 
 During the summer and autumn of this year (1779) there 
 was the usual exchange of neighbourly civilities between 
 Windsor and Bulstrode. In a letter to her little niece, 
 Mrs. Delany describes a visit to the Queen's Lodge on the 
 occasion of the Princess Royal's birthday, when only twelve 
 of the royal family were present, Prince William being 
 with the fleet : ' Princess Mary, a most sweet child, was in 
 cherry-coloured tabby, with silver leading-strings ; she is 
 about four years old. She could not remember my name ; 
 but, making a low curtsey, said, "How do you do, Duchess 
 of Portland's friend ? and how does your little niece do ? 
 I wish you had brought her." The King carried about in 
 his arms by turns the Princess Sophia and the last prince, 
 Octavius. I never saw more lovely children, nor a more 
 pleasing sight than the King's fondness for them, nor the 
 Queen's, for they seem to have but one mind, and that is to 
 make everything easy and happy about them. The King 
 brought the little Octavius in his arms to me, who held out 
 his hand to play with me, which, on my taking the liberty 
 to kiss, his Majesty made him kiss my cheek.' 
 
 A quaint letter from Mrs. Rea, Mrs. Delany's waiting- 
 woman, to little Miss Port describes another royal visit 
 to Bulstrode. ' A Saturday morning,' she writes, * the 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Queen, the Princess Royal, Princess Augusta, and Princess 
 Sophia came here to make a visit to the Duchess ; they 
 came in at one and staid till three ; and when they whent 
 away, the Queen came up to Mrs. Delany and put a packet 
 into her hand, and said in a most gracious manner she 
 hoped Mrs. Delany would look at that sometimes, and 
 remember her. When your aunt opened it, it was a most 
 beautiful pocket-case, the outside white sattin, worked 
 
 with gold, the inside but it is impossible for me to 
 
 describe it, it is so elegant ; it is lined with pink sattin, 
 and contains a knife, scizzars, pencil, rule, compass, bodkin, 
 and more than I can say, but it is all gold and mother-o' > - 
 pearl. At one end there was a little letter-case, that 
 contained a letter directed to Mrs. Delany, written by 
 the Queen's own hand, which she will send a copy of to 
 your mama. Sunday morning the Duchess received a 
 letter from Miss Hambleton to let her know the King and 
 Queen intended her a visit in the evening. They came 
 with the Prince of Wales and three of the princesses. I 
 wish you had been here to see the sight ; their attendants 
 carried flambeaux before them, and they made a fine show 
 in the park. Her Grace had the house lighted up in the 
 most magnificent manner ; the chandelier in the grate hall 
 had not been lighted for twenty years. Their entertain- 
 ment was tea, coffee, ices, and fruite. They were all 
 dressed in blue tabby, with white sattin petticotes. The 
 Queen sat on the sofa in the drawing-room, and the 
 Duchess by her ; the King took Mrs. Delany by the hand, 
 and seated himself by her, and placed a screen before her, 
 so that the fire might not hurt her eyes. The Princess 
 Augusta plaid on the harpsichord, and the Prince of 
 Wales sung to her. They all seemed very happy, and 
 well pleased with their entertainment. They looked over 
 
 233 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Mrs. Delany's nine volumes of flowers, and whent away 
 about half-past ten. My mistress was not in the least 
 fatigued, but highly delighted with the gracious manners 
 of the King and Queen. 1 
 
 Mrs. Delany returned to her house in St. James's Place 
 for the winter, where she again had the company of her 
 little niece, Georgina Port. A curious old piece of scandal 
 is related in a letter to Mrs. Port, dated December 1779, 
 announcing the death of the second Lord Lyttelton : ' I 
 would fain give you some account of Lord Littleton's sad 
 end ; so wicked a wretch hardly breathed, heightened by 
 his having had extraordinary parts, which he basely 
 abused — a good figure, rank, and a great fortune, what 
 an honour he might have been to his family and to his 
 country ! Hagley is within a few miles of Mrs. Amphlefs, 
 a widow with a son and two daughters. She was aunt, or 
 cousin-german, to the good Lord Littleton, this wretch's 
 father. The late Lord visited there often as a neighbour and 
 relation. One day, in the course of the summer, he dined 
 there, and feigned himself so ill that he must lye there all 
 night. Unfortunately, Mrs. Amphlet was taken very ill 
 in the night, and was confined to her bed for some days, 
 during which time the diabolical scheme was laid. Lord 
 L. returned to Hagley in two or three days, and the day 
 after the elder Miss Amphlet told her mother she must go 
 and inquire after my lord's health. She went, whether 
 with the mother's consent I cannot tell, but at that time 
 she had no suspicion about them. 
 
 'A message was sent back that her daughter was so 
 happy where she was that she would not return. Every 
 means was made use of by the poor mother to bring her 
 back, but to no purpose ; and, after a series of more 
 circumstances than I can relate, the younger daughter was 
 234 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 inveigled to join their wicked society, and left her mother 
 dying of a broken heart. She is now happily released, 
 and, I believe, died before Lord Littleton, who certainly 
 had a remarkable dream of seeing a bird turned into a 
 woman, who gave him warning of his approaching end. 
 He told his dream to several people, and that he was 
 limited to three days. On the morning of the third day 
 he told several of his acquaintance, being then in town, 
 that the time was nearly expired, and seemed unapprehen- 
 sive of any further consequence. He carried the two 
 miserable girls and another woman of his society to spend 
 some days at a villa near London, eat a hearty dinner and 
 a supper in a flow of spirits ; complained of a pain in his 
 stomach, which lasted but a little while before he died. 
 What a sense of horror if his sad associates had any 
 conscience ! He has died rich, and left £500 a piece to 
 those undone girls, the chief of his fortune to his sister, 
 Lady Valencia. 1 
 
 In June 1780 all London was distracted by the doings 
 of Lord George Gordon, which culminated in the 'No 
 Popery ' riots. In a letter to Mrs. Fort, dated June 8, 
 Mrs. Delany says : ' On Tuesday last the tumult was so 
 desperate, of which you will be informed in the papers, 
 that nobody knew how it might end. Lady Weymouth 
 was so terrified for the Duchess of Portland, as a disturbance 
 was expected in Priory Gardens, that she entreated her to 
 lie that night at Lady Stamford's, which she did, after 
 spending the evening with me ; and yesterday she dined 
 with me, and being assured that all things were quiet in 
 Whitehall, she resolved to return home last night. Poor 
 Lady Weymouth sent all her children yesterday to Ealing, 
 and had the goodness to desire me to go with them, and 
 carry Georgina with me, but I could not do that, as the 
 
 235 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Duchess was determined to go that day to Bulstrode, and 
 she insisted on my coming home with her, and bringing 
 the child with me, as some houses in St. James's Place 
 were threatened. . . . Lady Bute is gone out of town, 
 but I fear there will be as little mercy shown to his 
 house as to Lord Mansfield's 1 in Bloomsbury Square. 
 Thank God, he and his family are safe and well, but his 
 house with everything in it is burnt to the ground! And 
 Kenwood would have met the same fate had not the 
 militia saved it yesterday . , 
 
 In November the King sent Mrs. Delany, who was then 
 at Bulstrode, a special message to the effect that he hoped 
 she would be at Gerrard's Cross the following Wednesday 
 to see the stag turned out. Such a royal invitation was not 
 lightly to be disregarded, and so at the age of eighty-one 
 Mrs. Delany went out hunting for the last time. For her 
 little niece's amusement she dictated the following account 
 of her adventures to her waiting- woman, Mrs. Rea : — 
 
 ' On Wednesday morning, a quarter before ten, the 
 Duchess of Portland stepped into her chaise, and we 
 went to Gerard Cross, about the middle of the Common, 
 by the appointment and command of the King, who came 
 about a quarter of an hour afterwards, with the Prince 
 of Wales and a large retinue. His Majesty came up 
 directly to the Duchess's carriage, most gracious and 
 delighted to see the Duchess out so early. . . . The 
 King himself ordered the spot where the Duchess's chaise 
 should stand to see the stag turned out. At the King's 
 command the stag was set at liberty, and the poor 
 trembling creature bounded over the plain in hopes of 
 escaping from his pursuers, but the dogs and hunters 
 were soon after him, and all out of sight. The Duchess 
 1 Lord Chief Justice. 
 
 236 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 returned home in order to be able to receive the Queen, 
 who immediately followed, before we could pull off our 
 cloaks ! We received Her Majesty on the doorstep, 
 but she is so gracious that she makes everything per- 
 fectly easy. . . . The Princess Royal did me the honour 
 to ask after you in a very obliging way, if you came 
 to town this winter, what books you read. I said you 
 loved reading better than work, but that you worked 
 when your other lessons were over. Her Royal High- 
 ness asked what books you liked. I said you seemed to 
 like history and travels as far as you could understand 
 them, and the Spectator and French stories adapted to 
 your age ; that your mama was very attentive to you, but 
 her indulgence to me made her spare you to me, though 
 I was afraid I should not be able to attend to you as 
 much as she did. The Princess, who is extremely polite, 
 made me some obliging compliments; and added, she 
 hoped I should be able to attend to you for twenty 
 years to come. Princess Elizabeth, who stood near me, 
 said, " I hope so too, and am sure so does the King and 
 Queen.'" I would not have you think (though I am very 
 sensible of the honours done me) I tell you this out of 
 vanity, for I feel my own small consequence, but I tell 
 you to show you how such manners become the highest 
 rank, and though so far above us, they are not in those 
 particulars unsuited to our imitation ; for civility, kindness, 
 and benevolence (suitable to the different ranks of life) 
 are in everybody's power, from the palace to the cottage.' 
 Apropos of this last day's hunting, Mrs. Delany related 
 an anecdote of her first run with the hounds, more than 
 sixty years before, which greatly delighted George in. 
 When a young girl, living with her parents in Gloucester- 
 shire, she received an invitation to dinner at a house in 
 
 237 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 the neighbourhood which her mother allowed her to 
 accept. As there was to be company, she was very smartly 
 dressed; and the road being too bad for a carriage, she 
 was mounted on a pillion, behind a steady old servant. 
 On the way they met a pack of hounds ; Miss Granville 
 was enchanted, the mettle of the horse was roused, and 
 old John was prevailed upon to join in the chase. The 
 end of the escapade was that the young lady's pink lute- 
 string slip was rent in many places, the smart shoes were 
 lost, and the hat and streamers blown away. She kept 
 her host's dinner waiting ; and on her return home in 
 tattered garments, received a severe scolding from Mrs. 
 Granville, insomuch that her first day's hunting cost her 
 many penitential tears. 
 
 Among other favours bestowed upon Mrs. Delany by 
 the Queen at this time were a lock of her hair, a nomina- 
 tion of one of Mrs. Port's boys to the Charterhouse, and 
 a pocket-book containing the following note : — 
 
 ' Without appearing imprudent towards Mrs. Delany, 
 and indiscreet towards her friends (who wish to preserve 
 her, as her excellent qualities so well deserve), I cannot 
 have the pleasure of enjoying her company this winter, 
 which our amiable friend the Duchess of Portland has so 
 frequently and politely indulged me with during the 
 summer. I must therefore desire that Mrs. Delany will 
 wear this little pocket-book in order to remember, at times 
 when no dearer persons are present, a very sincere well- 
 wisher, friend, and affectionate Queen, 
 
 ' Charlotte.' 
 
 The Queen having expressed a wish to learn to spin, 
 Mrs. Delany presented her with a spinning-wheel as a 
 238 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 birthday offering, and accompanied it with the subjoined 
 verses of her own composition : — 
 
 ' Go, happy wheel ! Amuse her leisure hour, 
 
 Whose grace and affability refined 
 Add lustre to her dignity and power, 
 
 And fill with love and awe the grateful mind.' 
 
 In 1782 Mrs. Delany was obliged, by reason of her 
 failing sight, to give up her work upon the Flora, which 
 now contained nearly a thousand specimens, many of 
 which were copies of rare flowers and plants that had 
 been sent her from Kew. That she had not lost her 
 former keen interest in art, however, is proved by her 
 kindness to Opie, the portrait-painter, then quite a young 
 man, whom she brought into the notice of the King and 
 Queen, and for whom she obtained many commissions. 
 It was Opie who, at the command of their Majesties, 
 painted the portrait of Mrs. Delany, which hung in 
 their bedroom at Windsor, and is now at Hampton 
 Court. 1 Mrs. Boscawen, writing in September 1782, says : 
 ' Your favoured Opie is still in raptures at the thought 
 of Bulstrode. His portrait of Lady Jerningham did not 
 quite satisfy me, for I concluded it would be perfect, and her 
 person, hands, posture, spinning-wheel, all are so, but the 
 face (or rather, the countenance) does not quite please me. 1 
 
 Miss Burney's Cecilia was published in 1782, and Mrs. 
 Chapone writes a warm commendation of the book to her 
 ancient friend. It was not until January 1783, however, 
 that Miss Burney was introduced to Mrs. Delany, and we 
 read in her diary an account, probably more picturesque 
 than accurate, of what took place on the occasion of their 
 first meeting. Miss Burney went to St. James's Place with 
 
 1 A replica of this portrait was bequeathed by Lady Llanover to the 
 National Portrait Gallery. 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Mrs. Chapone. ' Mrs. Delany, 1 she says, ' was alone in her 
 drawing-room, which is entirely hung round with pictures 
 of her own painting, and ornaments of her own designing. 
 She is still tall, though some of her height may be lost ; 
 not much, however, for she is remarkably upright. She 
 has no remains of beauty in feature, but in countenance I 
 never but once saw more, and that was in my own sweet 
 maternal grandmother. Benevolence, softness, piety, are 
 all resident in her face.' 
 
 The guest was shown the pictures and the famous Flora, 
 and gratified by allusions to some of the characters in her 
 books. At seven o'clock the Duchess of Portland arrived. 
 ' She is not near so old as Mrs. Delany, 1 continues Miss 
 Burney, ' nor to me is her face by any means so pleasing ; 
 but yet there is sweetness and dignity and intelligence in 
 it. Mrs. Delany received her with the same respectful 
 ceremony as if it was her first visit, though she regularly 
 goes to her every evening. In the course of conversation 
 the Duchess asked Miss Burney's opinion of Mrs. Siddons ; 
 and on her expressing her admiration of the actress, 
 observed, " If Miss Burney approves her, no approbation 
 can do her so much credit; for no one can so perfectly 
 judge of character, or of human nature. 11 
 
 '"Ah, ma'am, 11 cried Mrs. Delany archly, "and does 
 your Grace remember protesting that you would never 
 read Cecilia ? " 
 
 ' " Yes,"" said she, laughing, " I declared that five volumes 
 could never be attacked, but since I began I have read it 
 three times. 1 ' 
 
 ' " Oh, terrible ! 11 cried I, " to make them out fifteen.'" 
 
 ' " The reason," continued she, " I held out so long against 
 reading them was remembering the cry there was in 
 favour of Clarissa and Sir Charles Grandison when they 
 240 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 came out, and those I never could read. I was teased 
 into trying both of them, but I was disgusted with their 
 tediousness, and could not read eleven letters with all 
 the effort I could make. 11 
 
 ' " But if your grace had gone on with Clarissa" said 
 Mrs. Chapone, "the latter part must have affected you 
 and charmed you. 11 
 
 ' " Oh, I hate anything so dismal ! Everybody that did 
 read it had melancholy faces for a week. Cecilia is as 
 pathetic as I can bear, and more sometimes ; yet in the 
 midst of the sorrow there is a spirit in the writing, a fire 
 in the Avhole composition that keep off that heavy depres- 
 sion given by Richardson. Cry, to be sure we did. Oh, 
 Mrs. Delany, shall you ever forget how we cried? But 
 then we had so much laughter to make us amends, we* 
 were never left to sink under our concern. 11 
 
 ' " For my part, 11 said Mrs. Chapone, " when I first read 
 it I did not cry at all ; I was in an agitation that half 
 killed me, that shook all my nerves, and made me unable 
 to sleep at nights from the suspense I was in. 11 
 
 ' " I only wish, 11 said the duchess, " Miss" Burney could 
 have been in some corner when Lord Weymouth, the 
 Bishop of Exeter, Mr. Lightfoot, Mrs. Delany, and I 
 were all discussing the point of the name. Nothing 
 could have been debated more warmly, but what cooled us 
 a little at last was Mr. Lightfoot 's thinking we were going 
 to quarrel, and while Mrs. Delany and I were disputing 
 about Mrs. Delville, he very gravely said, ' Why, ladies, this 
 is only a matter of imagination. Don't be so earnest. 1 11 
 
 ' " Ah, ma'am, 11 said Mrs. Delany, " how hard your grace 
 was upon Mrs. Delville, so elegant, so sensible, so judicious, 
 so charming a woman. 11 
 
 ' " Oh, I hate her," cried the duchess, " resisting that 
 a 241 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 sweet Cecilia; coaxing her, too, all the time with such 
 hypocritical flattery. 1 ' 
 
 ' " I shall never forget,"" said Mrs. Delany, " your grace's 
 earnestness when we came to that part where Mrs. Delville 
 bursts a blood-vessel. Down dropped the book, and just 
 with the same energy as if your grace had heard some 
 real and important news you called out, ' 1 7 m glad of it 
 with all my heart.' " 
 
 ' " What disputes, too,'" said Mrs. Chapone, " there are 
 about Briggs. I was in a room some time ago where 
 somebody said there could be no such character, and a 
 poor little city man who was there started up and said, 
 ' But there is, though, for I 'se one myself.'' " 
 
 * " The Harrels — oh, then the Harrels ! " cried Mrs. 
 Delany. 
 
 ' " If you speak of the Harrels, and of the morality of 
 the book,"" said the duchess, with a solemn sort of voice, 
 " we shall, indeed, never give Miss Burney her due — so 
 striking, so pure, so genuine, so instructive.'" 
 
 '"Yes," cried Mrs. Chapone, "let us complain how we 
 will of the torture she has given our nerves, we must all 
 join in saying she has bettered us by every line."" 
 
 ' " No book," said Mrs. Delany, " ever was so useful as 
 this, because none other that is so good was ever so much 
 read." 
 
 'I think I need now write no more,' continues Miss 
 Burney — 'I could, indeed, hear no more — for this last 
 so serious praise from characters so respectable, so moral, 
 and so aged quite affected me ; and though I had wished 
 a thousand times during this discourse to run out of the 
 room, when they finally gave this solemn sanction to the 
 meaning and intention of my writing, I found it not with- 
 out difficulty that I could keep the tears out of my eyes.' 
 242 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 In September 1783, Mrs. Boscawen describes some of 
 her summer wanderings in a letter to Mrs. Delany. ' I 
 have seen Lady Weymouth and her three eldest daughters. 
 I could not leave Longleat without wishing to pay my 
 respects to its noble mistress ; she was extremely obliging. 
 We talked of Bulstrode, you may be sure, and she told 
 me all your expeditions. I did not tell Lady Weymouth 
 all I thought of Longleat, lest it should sound like flattery, 
 but to me it appeared the very finest place I ever saw in 
 my life. The sun shone perfectly bright, the water was 
 all silver, the lights and shades of the fine trees were 
 beautiful — in short, the whole so entirely excited my 
 admiration, the superb, majestic structure being unique, 
 that I dare say I shall never see anything again that I 
 like so well. We spent all yesterday at Mr. Hoare's, and 
 were lucky in a fine day to sit and tarry at the different 
 stations. There is an immense high tower built at the 
 extremity of his plantation, called Alfred's Tower, which 
 overlooked the whole country. There is a convent in the 
 woods that you would like very well ; it has fine painted 
 glass in the windows, and a picture which belonged to 
 one of the altars of Glastonbury Abbey, which shuts up 
 with doors ; but perhaps after all it is only an imitation, 
 for I am easily taken in on these occasions, and believe 
 implicitly the tales of my cicerones. To-day we have been 
 to see Mr. BeckfoixTs Fonthill, where you would have 
 been provoked to see fine Titians pell-mell with daubings 
 of Capali : the mixture of good and bad pictures was 
 hideous. Thank God we go home to-morrow, for my 
 eyes are soon satisfied with seeing, and I require more 
 tranquillity than can be had in a wayfaring life, besides 
 that seeing Longleat first I was satisfied, and persuaded 
 that nothing I saw afterwards would please me so well.' 
 
 243 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Mrs. Delany usually kept her old Dublin friend, Mrs. 
 Frances Hamilton, well posted up in her doings, and 
 more especially in all matters connected with her inter- 
 course with royalty. In a letter written from Bulstrode 
 on October 10th, she says, ' A few days after our arrival 
 here the duchess and I were sitting in the long gallery 
 busy with our different employments, when, without any 
 ceremony, his Majesty walked up to our table unperceived 
 and unknown till he came close to us. You may believe 
 we were at first a little fluttered, but his courteous manner 
 soon made him a welcome guest. He came to inform the 
 duchess of the queen's perfect recovery from her lying-in, 
 which made him doubly welcome. . . . Last Thursday, a 
 little before twelve o'clock, word was brought that the 
 royal family were coming up the park, and immediately 
 afterwards two coaches and six, with the king on horse- 
 back, and a large retinue came up to the hall door. . . . 
 They were in the drawing-room before I was sent for, 
 where I found the queen very busy showing a very elegant 
 machine to the duchess, a frame for weaving fringe of a 
 new and most delicate structure ; it would take up as 
 much paper as has already been written upon to describe 
 it minutely, yet it is of such simplicity as to be very use- 
 ful. You will easily imagine the grateful feeling I had 
 when the queen presented it to me to make up some 
 knotted fringe which she saw me about. The king at the 
 same time said that he must contribute something to my 
 work, and presented me with a gold knotting shuttle of 
 most exquisite workmanship and taste ; and I am at this 
 time, while dictating, knotting white silk to fringe the 
 bag which is to contain it." 1 
 
 244 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 (1783-1785) 
 
 In the winter of 1783, Miss Hamilton, one of the ladies- 
 in-waiting to the queen, and niece of the Sir William 
 Hamilton who married Emma Hart, paid a long visit to 
 Bulstrode, and gives in her diary an interesting account 
 of the conversation and occupations of the two venerable 
 ladies, the duchess and Mrs. Delany. On December 5th 
 she writes : ' Went to dear Mrs. Delany at half-past nine. 
 She told me how extremely happy I had made her and the 
 duchess by my consent to stay till they went to town. How 
 truly flattering the praise of this most venerable and amiable 
 woman ! At two oV-lock Mrs. Delany and I went to her 
 room to eat oysters. We went to dinner about half-past 
 four, and when we came out of the dining-room we had a 
 hearty laugh, and ran a race ! After tea I read Evelina, 
 which I finished, and at ten the duchess went to her room to 
 finish a letter to Mrs. Boscawen, and tell her we had gone 
 through Evelina, the book that she had desired us to read.'' 
 This entry is certainly rather mysterious when taken in 
 connection with the enthusiasm displayed by the duchess 
 and her friends for Miss Burney 1 s work during the interview 
 that had taken place the year before. Miss Burney had a 
 vivid imagination, but it is difficult to believe that she 
 could have invented the whole of the conversation on the 
 subject that is recorded in her diary. 
 
 245 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Miss Hamilton continues : ' Mrs. Delany said how 
 cautious young women should be what society they 
 entered into, and particularly with whom they appeared 
 in public. Told me an anecdote of herself when she was 
 young and first married to Mr. Pendarves ; gave me an 
 account of the Hell Fire Club, which consisted of about a 
 dozen persons of fashion of both sexes, some of the females 
 unmarried, and the horrid impieties these were guilty of: 
 they used to read and ridicule the Scriptures ; and their 
 conversation was blasphemous to the last degree; the 
 character of one of the members of this club, a Mr. Howe, 
 and an account of his death, which Dr. Friend gave Mrs. 
 Delany the day he died. Mrs. D. was dining at Somerset 
 House when Dr. Friend came in, quite overcome with the 
 horrid scene he had just quitted; said he left this miser- 
 able wretch expiring, uttering the most horrid impreca- 
 tions, and, though denying his belief in anything sacred, 
 said he knew he should burn in hell for ever ! . . . 
 
 'The conversation turned on the famous Duchess of 
 Marlborough ; among other things, that, although she 
 appeared affected in the highest degree at the death of 
 her grand-daughter, the Duchess of Bedford, she sent the 
 day after she died for the jewels she had given her, saying 
 she had only lent them. The answer was that she had said 
 she would never demand those jewels again, except she 
 
 danced at Court. Her reply was, " then she would be 
 
 if she would not dance at Court. 1 ' She behaved in the 
 most extravagant manner, her grief, notwithstanding, most 
 violent in its appearance. She was found one day lying 
 prostrate on the ground, and a lady who went to see 
 her had like to have fallen over her, the room being 
 dark. The duchess said she was praying, and that she 
 lay thus upon the ground, being too wicked to kneel. 
 246 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 When her son died, who was a fine promising youth, her 
 grief was unbounded ; her vanity was wounded, the future 
 hope of an ambitious mind was destroyed. She used, by 
 way of mortification, to dress herself like a beggar, and sit 
 with some miserable wretches in the cloisters at West- 
 minster Abbey. She used to say she was very certain she 
 should go to heaven, and, as her ambition went even 
 beyond the grave, that she knew she should have one of 
 the highest seats. 
 
 ' Many other anecdotes were told, and the duchess 
 showed us some original letters written to her grand- 
 father, Mr. Harley, by the famous Lord Bolingbroke, and 
 the Duchess of Marlborough. Those of Lord Boling- 
 broke were witty and impious, and full of the most flatter- 
 ing encomiums. Mrs. Delany said she remembered Lord 
 Bolingbroke's person, that he was handsome, had a fine 
 address, but was a great drinker, and swore horribly. She 
 remembered his going once to her uncle, Sir John 
 Stanley's, at Northend, his being very drunk, and going 
 to the greenhouse, where he threw himself on a couch. 
 A message arrived to say he was waited for at the council : 
 he roused himself, snatched up his green bag of papers, 
 and flew to business. People used to say that no man 
 was ever so early or so active as Lord B. when he was in 
 place. The truth being that he used to sit up drinking all 
 night, and not having been in bed, he would put a wet 
 napkin on his forehead and eyes to cool the heat and 
 headache occasioned by his intemperance, and then he 
 appeared and attended to business with as much ease as if 
 he had lived the most temperate life. . . .' 
 
 ' December 14. 
 6 Went to Mrs. Delany's room at half-past nine. We 
 talked upon religious topics. She told me she had known 
 
 247 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 the two Mr. Wesleys (the Methodist preachers) ; she knew 
 them when they were young men, they lived near her 
 sister when they were students at Oxford. They were of 
 a serious turn, and associated with such as were so. These 
 brothers joined some other young men at Oxford, and 
 used to meet of a Sunday evening and read the Scriptures, 
 and find out objects of charity to relieve. This was a 
 happy beginning, but the vanity of being singular, and 
 growing enthusiasts, made them endeavour to gain 
 proselytes, and adopt that system of religious doctrine 
 that many reasonable persons thought pernicious. . . . 
 
 ' After tea the duchess read many interesting anecdotes 
 out of her ms. book. The Duchess of Marlborough (the 
 famous) said she never had a present of a jewel from Queen 
 Anne; and 'tis notorious that when news came of the victory 
 of Blenheim the queen gave her a picture of the Duke of 
 Marlborough, covered with a flat diamond with brilliant 
 edges, which cost eight thousand pounds : it is now in the 
 possession of the Duke of Montagu's daughter, the present 
 Duchess of Buccleuch. When the Duchess of Marlborough 
 was in disgrace she went to Holland ; before she left she 
 made presents to her friends, and, among other things, she 
 gave a Mrs. Higgin a picture of Queen Anne which the 
 queen had given her. It had been set round with jewels ; 
 those she took care to take from it. Mrs. Higgin, knowing 
 the duchess gave her this because she had no value for it, 
 and not out of any mark of regard, and sensibly conscious 
 she was not worthy of the honour of having it in her 
 possession, offered it to Lord Oxford, who (in a genteel 
 way) gave her a hundred guineas for it, and it is now at 
 Welbeck. The Duke and Duchess of Marlborough had 
 upwards of 90,000 per annum in places, besides Blenheim 
 and all their family and children in places. They would 
 248 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 not even pay the taxes of the house granted them at 
 Whitehall, and when the duke made a campaign he was 
 always furnished with every material of linen, etc., at 
 the queen's expense. The Prince Eugene once, when he 
 received a letter from the duke, gave it to another to read 
 to him, as it was a difficult hand to read ; and the person 
 said: "The duke puts no tittles upon the 'iV' "Oh, ri 
 said the prince, " it saves his grace's ink. 1 ' 1 
 
 There are several tantalising entries in the diary to the 
 effect that ' Mrs. Delany told me many particulars relating 
 to Swift, Mrs. Johnstone, Vanessa, etc., 1 or ' the duchess told 
 me some remarkable anecdotes of Pope, Young, Voltaire, 
 etc.,' and one wishes that the diarist had been imbued with 
 more of the spirit of a Boswell. After her return to town 
 Miss Hamilton became a frequent visitor at Mrs. Delany "s 
 house, and on one occasion met Miss Burney and Mrs. 
 Carter, when, she relates, those learned ladies discussed 
 Rousseau's Eloise, and Mrs. Carter declared that Rousseau 
 was a far more dangerous writer than Voltaire. It was 
 through the negotiations of Miss Hamilton that the 
 Duchess of Portland bought the famous Barberini vase 
 from Sir William Hamilton. 
 
 In May 1784 began the first series of performances in 
 commemoration of Handel, held in Westminster Abbey, 
 and Mrs. Delany was able to be present at four of the 
 concerts. She still seems to have kept up her interest in 
 the art and literature of the day, for we find her writing 
 to Miss Hamilton: 'I hear that the School for Scandal 
 is to be got in Ireland ; I beg you will procure me two 
 copies. It has not yet been published in England."* In 
 the same letter she gives the following account of a visit 
 to the queen's house to hear Mrs. Siddons read The 
 Provoked Husband : ' I obeyed the royal summons, and 
 
 249 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 was much entertained. She (Mrs. Siddons) fully answered 
 my expectations, and her person and manners are per- 
 fectly agreeable. . . . Mrs. Siddons read standing, and had 
 a desk with candles before her; she behaved with great 
 propriety, and read two acts of The Provoked Husband, 
 which was abridged by leaving out Sir Francis and Lady 
 Wronghead's parts. But she introduced John Moody's 
 account of the journey, and read it admirably. The 
 part of Lord and Lady Townley's reconciliation she 
 worked up finely, and made it very affecting. She also read 
 Queen Katherine's last speech in King Henry VIII. She 
 was allowed three pauses to go into the next room to 
 refresh herself for half an hour each time. After she was 
 dismissed their Majesties detained the company for some 
 time to talk over what had passed, which was not the least 
 agreeable part of the entertainment.'' 
 
 In July Mrs. Delany appears to have been in town and 
 indisposed, for the Duchess of Portland writes to her 
 from Margate, ' I am truly grieved to hear you have been 
 ill, but depend on you assuring me you are much better. 
 I think you were in the right to go to town, but is not 
 the smell of paint disagreeable to you ? And why would 
 you not go to Whitehall, which you know, my dearest 
 friend, is at your disposal ? . . . Mr. Swanison is a good 
 acquisition ; he shot three or four birds for me yesterday, 
 and is gone out to-day trawling, or I should have gone to 
 see his collection. And he has introduced a friseur, not 
 for the purpose of curling my hair, but of stuffing birds. 
 I have a charming horned owl sitting by me that I have 
 purchased of him.' 
 
 In the autumn Mrs. Delany procured, at the king's 
 request, a catalogue of Mr. Granville's valuable collection 
 of Handel's music. The catalogue was returned with a 
 250 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 note from George m. in his own handwriting: 'The king 
 is much pleased with the very correct manner in which 
 Mrs. Delany has obligingly executed the commission of 
 obtaining an exact catalogue of Mr. Granville's collection 
 of Mr. Handel's music, and desires she will forward it to 
 Dr. Burney ; at the same time, as Mrs. Delany has com- 
 municated Mr. Granville's willingness of letting the king 
 see those volumes that are not in the list of his original 
 collection, he is desired at any convenient opportunity to 
 let the following ones be sent to town, and great care 
 shall be taken that they shall be without damage re- 
 turned.'' Here follows a list of half-a-dozen volumes. 
 
 In February the king returned some of the volumes 
 that had been lent, and in another autograph letter 
 desires that Mrs. Delany will express everything that is 
 proper to her nephew for communications that have been 
 so agreeable. 'The king hopes when the spring is far 
 enough advanced that he may have the pleasure of having 
 that song performed at the queen's house to the satisfac- 
 tion of Mrs. Delany, not forgetting to have it introduced 
 by the overture to " Radamistus." — George R.' 
 
 In July 1785, the Dowager-Duchess of Portland died 
 at Bulstrode after only a few days' illness. Horace Wal- 
 pole, writing to Mrs. Dickenson, nee Hamilton, on July 
 19th, says, ' By a postscript in a letter I have just received 
 from Mr. Keate, he tells me that the Duchess of Portland 
 is dead ! I did hear at Ditton on Sunday that she had 
 been thought dead, but was much better — still, as it 
 comes from Mr. Keate, and you was so much alarmed 
 when I saw you (and, indeed, as I thought her so much 
 altered), I fear it is but too true. You will forgive me, 
 therefore, for troubling you with inquiring about poor Mrs. 
 Delany ! It would be to no purpose to send to her house.' 
 
 251 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 On July 24th Mrs. Sandford, formerly Sally Chapone, 
 wrote to Mrs. Hamilton, ' Mrs. Delany had been with the 
 Duchess of Portland about twelve days at Bulstrode when 
 the sad event of her grace's death happened. The next 
 day Mrs. Delany came to town, and though in great 
 affliction, I am happy to add is in good health, which not 
 failing her, and her having so many kind friends about 
 her, we flatter ourselves is not likely to do so. As her 
 affliction is so perfectly calm and rational as to allow her 
 to accept the unwearied attentions they offer her, Mrs. 
 Delany has much consolation from the cordial civilities 
 and kindnesses she has received from the Duke and 
 Duchess of Portland. The duke's own expression has 
 been that " he should ever see his mother in Mrs. Delany," 
 and should always think himself fulfilling his late mother's 
 wishes when he obeys her commands, or contributes to 
 her satisfaction. The king and queen have been as con- 
 stant and regular in their solicitous inquiries after Mrs. 
 Delany since the duchess's death as they were after the 
 excellent friends during her grace's late illness, which was 
 of a complicated kind. But the immediate cause of her 
 death was a bilious complaint which culminated in a 
 mortification. . . . We understand the duchess's remains 
 are to be interred on Friday or Saturday next at West- 
 minster Abbey, where the late duke is buried, as well as 
 all the Harley family.' 
 
 The duchess's will, in which she left her old friend 
 nothing more substantial than two or three pictures and 
 snuff-boxes, seems to have caused some surprise to out- 
 siders, though none to Mrs. Delany herself, who had 
 repeatedly urged the duchess, when the question of a 
 legacy was discussed between them, not to think of leav- 
 ing her any money, more especially as Lord Edward 
 252 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Bentinck and Lord Weymouth were terribly in debt, and 
 had even reminded her that, however great her wealth, 
 she had in her own family legitimate claims for its entire 
 and exclusive appropriation. The only change in Mrs. 
 Delany's circumstances that was caused by her friend's 
 death was the loss of the summer retreat at Bulstrode, 
 which she had enjoyed for so many years. This, however, 
 was speedily made good by the king, who presented her 
 with a house at Windsor, and desired that she would 
 always move thither when the Court moved from town. 
 At the same time, he bestowed upon her an allowance 
 of three hundred a year, which good Queen Charlotte 
 used to bring half-yearly in a pocket-book, in order that 
 it might not be docked by the tax-collector. 
 
 Mrs. Walsingham, writing to Mrs. Delany about this 
 time, says, ' I think myself extremely obliged to you for 
 desiring Mrs. Boscawen to communicate to me the very 
 delicate, noble, and friendly manner in which their 
 Majesties have expressed the sense they entertain of your 
 merits, and the feelings they have for the very great loss 
 you have sustained. I honour and admire them beyond 
 what words can speak ; and really I could not read the 
 account without a sort of shivering and tears coming into 
 my eyes, that prove how we are penetrated, even to our 
 mental parts, by acts of generosity and kindness. I felt 
 much anxiety, till I came to the conclusion, and found 
 you had determined to take the house, and, in return for 
 her Majesty's attention, to give her one of the greatest 
 and rarest of all pleasures, the having a friend for a 
 neighbour. Such instances of friendship are rare in their 
 Majesties' 1 exalted rank ; and I congratulate them on 
 having felt a pleasure so few of royal race have ever 
 known. To you it cannot but have given pleasure, 
 
 253 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 though you were so deeply plunged in sorrow, and these 
 unexpected pleasing circumstances that sometimes break 
 out like rays of sunshine on our most clouded, unhappy 
 days, put me in mind of an admirable saying of Lord 
 Bacon's, that " man's necessity is God's opportunity.'" ' 
 
 Evidently no time had been lost in presenting the 
 gracious gift, for the duchess only died on July 17th, and 
 on August 19th Miss Port, who now lived almost entirely 
 with her great-aunt, writes to her mother, ' Though the 
 king is overseer (which of course must hurry the work- 
 men), we find it will be three weeks before the house at 
 Windsor will be ready, and three weeks longer in London 
 at this time of year would be bad for A. D.'s health. This 
 the queen has considered, for which reason her Majesty 
 kindly sent Miss Planta to say that till the house was fit 
 for our reception, she hoped my aunt would be in an 
 apartment at "Windsor; and on my A. D.'s introducing 
 me to Miss Planta, she said that the queen named that 
 voung lady particularly, and her Majesty expects me too." 1 
 
 During the month of August, Mrs. Delany had a sharp 
 attack of illness, and it was just after her recovery that 
 Fanny Burney, who, as we have seen, had been introduced 
 by Mrs. Chapone about two years before, was invited to 
 stay in St. James's Place, and made a very favourable im- 
 pression. Writing to Mrs. Hamilton, Mrs. Delany says. 
 ' I have had with me, ever since my nephews were obliged 
 to leave me, Miss Burney, the author of Evelina and 
 Cecilia, which, excellent as they are, are her meanest 
 praise. Her admirable understanding, tender affection, 
 and sweetness of manners, make her invaluable to those 
 who have the happiness to know her. . . . 
 
 ' I employ my secretary just now to add some new proofs 
 I have received of their Majesties' goodness towards me. 
 254 
 
J 
 
 
 
 ■^.^WtezfruSlv/i-st 
 
 C?>t<s??is a *yyi<^io&y&£'te- ^jT_//i 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Astley (my servant) I sent to Windsor last Thursday, to 
 see what conveniences there might be wanting in the 
 house that their Majesties have been so gracious as to 
 give me ; when there, she received the king's command 
 that I was only to bring myself and niece, clothes and 
 attendants, as stores of every kind would be laid in for 
 me. 1 
 
 On September 3rd, Queen Charlotte wrote : ' My dear 
 Mrs. Delany will be glad to hear that I am charged by 
 the king to summon her to her new abode at Windsor for 
 Tuesday next, when she will find all the most essential 
 parts of the house ready, excepting some little trifles that 
 it will be better for Mrs. Delany to direct herself in 
 person or by her little deputy, Miss Port. I need not, 
 I hope, add that I shall be extremely glad and happy to 
 see so amiable an inhabitant in this our sweet retreat, and 
 wish very sincerely that our dear Mrs. Delany may enjoy 
 every blessing among us that her merits deserve, and that 
 we may long enjoy her amiable company. Amen. These 
 are the true sentiments of my dear Mrs. Delany "a very 
 affectionate queen, Charlotte. 1 
 
 Mrs. Delany wrote the following account of her arrival 
 at Windsor to her friend Mrs. Hamilton : ' I arrived here 
 about eight o'clock in the evening and found his Majesty 
 in the house ready to receive me. I threw myself at his 
 feet, indeed unable to utter a word ; he raised and saluted 
 me, and said he meant not to stay longer than to desire 
 I would order everything that could make the house com- 
 fortable and agreeable to me, and then retired. Truly, 
 I found nothing wanting, as it is as pleasant and com- 
 modious as I could wish it to be, with a very pretty 
 garden, which joins that of the Queen's Lodge. The 
 next morning her Majesty sent one of her ladies to know 
 
 255 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 how I had rested, and how I was in health, and whether 
 her coming would not be troublesome. I was lame, and 
 therefore could not go down to the door as I ought to 
 have done, but her Majesty came upstairs. Our meeting 
 was mutually affecting ; she well knew the value of what 
 I had lost, and it was some time after we were seated 
 before either of us could speak. She repeated in the 
 strongest terms her wish and the king's, that I should be 
 as easy and happy as they could possibly make me ; that 
 they waived all ceremony, and desired to come to me as 
 friends ! The queen also delivered me a paper from the 
 king : it contained the first quarter of i?300 per annum, 
 which his majesty allows me out of his privy purse. Their 
 majesties have drunk tea with me five times, and the 
 princesses three. They generally stay two hours or longer. 
 In short, I have either seen them or heard of them every 
 day, but I have not yet been at the Queen's Lodge, though 
 they have expressed impatience for me to come, as I have 
 still so sad a drawback on my spirits that I must decline 
 that honour till I am better able to enjoy it, and they 
 have the goodness not to press me. Their visits here are 
 paid in the most quiet, private manner, like those of the 
 most consoling, disinterested friends ; so that I may truly 
 say they are a royal cordial, and I see very few people 
 besides. I have been three times in the king's private 
 chapel at early prayers, where the royal family constantly 
 attend, and they walk home to breakfast afterwards, 
 whilst I am conveyed in a very elegant chair which the 
 king has made me a present of for that purpose." 1 
 
 Lady Llanover, in a private note, observes that ' the 
 
 letters to Mrs. Hamilton from Mrs. Delany were chiefly 
 
 dictated to her maid as a journal of Court news to amuse 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton, which must be taken into consideration 
 
 256 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to account for the stiffness of style and absence of all but 
 praise in the accounts given. But when this is considered, 
 together with Mrs. Delany 's true and just feelings of 
 affection for the treatment she experienced from the royal 
 family, together also with the phraseology of the 
 times of those about Court, these letters will not be 
 considered as overstrained panegyrics, as they otherwise 
 might. - ' 
 
 Mr. Frederick Montagu, writing to Mrs. Delany about 
 the same time, says, ' Your royal friends have combined 
 private regard and affection with princely munificence — 
 and I will say, though you are the grand-daughter of Sir 
 Bevil Granville, that none of the Stuarts, male or female, 
 would have done so well ! ' 
 
 In October of this year it was decided that John 
 Dewes of Calwich should take the name of Granville. 
 Mrs. Delany writes to her nephew, ' I have always 
 thought it was laudable and proper that the names of 
 respectable families should be kept up, and not allowed 
 to sink into oblivion ; especially by a descendant of so 
 worthy and great a man as Sir Bevil Granville, who died 
 for his king and country. I some time ago mentioned 
 this ; you apprehended it was not particularly my brother's 
 desire you should take his name, but such reasons have 
 started since as I am sure would have convinced my 
 brother Granville that it ought to be done. These urgent 
 reasons, which I cannot explain in a letter, and must be 
 quite between ourselves, are relating to Earl Temple's 
 family, and though it may be a matter of indifference to 
 yourself it may prove of consequence to your descendants. 
 Upon the birth of your son I thought it more incumbent 
 on you to take it into consideration. . . . 1 
 
 Mrs. Delany's reasons evidently had weight with her 
 e 257 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 nephew, for on October 29th Court Dewes writes from 
 Windsor to his brother John : 
 
 * Dear Brother Granville, — For, after having received 
 his majesty's commands to call you so for the future, I 
 don't know whether it would not be a misdemeanour in 
 me to do otherwise ! To be serious, I think from the time 
 you receive this letter you may assume the name. The 
 king was here last night ; he called me to him, and said 
 he heard that Mrs. Delany and your family wished you 
 should take the name of Granville, and that you desired 
 it yourself. The king said he thought it very proper, and 
 bid me for the future call you Granville ; and the queen 
 in a conversation afterwards with Mrs. Delany about your 
 family called your wife " Mrs. Granville " ; so I will, if you 
 think proper, write to Pardon to prepare the instrument 
 and get it registered.*' 
 
 258 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 (1786-1788) 
 
 The account given by Madame D'Arblay in her Diary 
 of the intimate relations that existed between herself 
 and her venerable friend during her period of service 
 at Windsor seems to have given some offence to Mrs. 
 Delany "s family, and also to her old servant, Mrs. Astley, 
 who lived till 1832. The head and front of the ' little 
 Burney's , offending consisted of her statement that Mrs. 
 Delany had been partly supported by the Duchess of 
 Portland, and also that she (Fanny Burney) had helped 
 Mrs. Delany to sort her letters and papers with a view 
 to putting them into shape for an autobiography. Mrs. 
 Astley writes with considerable severity of authors who 
 allow their imagination overmuch licence, and make 
 mountains out of mole-hills. 
 
 'Except a small basket of vegetables once a week, 1 
 declares Mrs. Astley, 'not anything once in a month 
 was sent by the Duchess of Portland, who never had 
 company at her own house. She drank tea in St. James's 
 Place all the winter, when Mrs. Delany invited those 
 whom the duchess liked to meet. I had to make tea at 
 many different times (and a pound of fine tea at sixteen 
 shillings a pound was gone in no time), with cakes and etcs. 
 As to money, I am certain not even the present of the least 
 trifle did the duchess ever give Mrs. Delany ; but her 
 
 '259 
 

 MRS. DELANY 
 
 spending the summer at Bulstrode, and giving her 
 delightful society so entirely to herself, so offended Mr. 
 Granville, when he asked her to meet some particular 
 friends, that upon her refusal he altered his will, and 
 after awarding her ^300 a year for life, he left her 
 nothing. ... As to Madame Arblay's looking over Mrs. 
 Delany's letters and papers, I doubt the truth of it with 
 good reason, for, more than a fortnight before we left 
 St. James's Place, I was employed upon them every 
 morning, in examining and burning a large box of 
 letters, which it grieved me to destroy, as some of them 
 were written by the first people in the world ; but I 
 was obliged to obey, and observed at the time that the 
 box of letters would have been worth a fortune to any 
 one were they published. "That is what I want to 
 prevent," was the answer. But if Madame D'Arblay 
 happened to look over one letter or ms., that was enough 
 for an authoress to build upon. ... I think Madame 
 D'Arblay has mentioned very few of Mrs. Delany's friends. 
 She had the first interest in the kingdom. During Lord 
 Shelburne's time in office she obtained several good situa- 
 tions for different people. She often wrote to Lord Thurlow 
 in favour of clergymen, and never thought anything of 
 her own trouble when there was a chance of doing good, 
 and was never more happy than when she could bring 
 into notice young artists who promised to excel. Opie 
 and Lawrence owed her much.' Mrs. Astley concludes 
 her strictures with the expression of her belief that 
 Madame D'Arblay had a great regard for Mrs. Delany, 
 but that she was so much in the habit of composing 
 fictions in her novels that she was not to be depended 
 upon when she desired to work up an effect or to produce 
 an impression. 
 260 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 It was in the year 1786 that the king and queen, wishing 
 to make Dr. Burney some amends for his disappointment 
 in not having been appointed master of the king's band, 
 consulted Mrs. Delany as to the advisability of offering 
 Miss Bnrney the post of dresser, with which that of reader 
 might be combined. Mrs. Delany having formed, as has 
 been seen, a strong attachment to Miss Burney, warmly 
 recommended her to their Majesties. As we know, from 
 Madame D'Arblay's Diary, the appointment was not 
 altogether a success. Miss Burney suffered much at 
 being separated from her friends, her health was not 
 strong enough for the arduous life, she had little manual 
 dexterity, and her shyness prevented her from reading 
 aloud in an audible voice. Her presence at Windsor, 
 however, was a great pleasure to Mrs. Delany, who, in 
 a letter to Mrs. Hamilton, says: 'An event has taken 
 place which gives me great satisfaction. I am sure you 
 are acquainted with the novel entitled Cecilia, much 
 admired for its good sense, variety of character, and 
 delicacy of sentiment. There is nothing good, amiable, 
 or agreeable in the book that is not possessed by the 
 author of it, Miss Burney. I have now been acquainted 
 with her two or three years. Her extreme diffidence of 
 herself, notwithstanding her great genius and the applause 
 she has met with, adds lustre to her excellencies, and all 
 improve on acquaintance. In the course of the last year 
 she has been so good as to spend a few weeks with me at 
 Windsor, which gave the queen an opportunity of seeing 
 and speaking to her. One of the principal ladies that 
 attends the queen's person as dresser is going to retire 
 into her own country, being in too bad a state of health 
 to continue her honourable and delightful employment 
 (for such it must be near such a queen). Miss Burney 
 
 261 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 is to be the happy successor, chosen without any par- 
 ticular recommendation from any one.' > 
 
 * Miss Burney," 1 says Lady Llanover, ' was so elated by this 
 appointment that she gradually lost all consciousness of 
 her actual or relative position. She lived in an ideal 
 world, of which she imagined herself the centre. She 
 fancied that all the equerries were in love with her, 
 although she was really the constant object of their 
 ridicule. Queen Charlotte used to complain to Mrs. 
 Delany that Miss Burney could not learn to tie the bow 
 of her necklace on court days without giving her pain 
 by tying the hair at the back of her neck in with it. 
 Certainly, Miss Burney's situation was anomalous. As 
 a dresser she had a fixed subordinate position, as a 
 successful novel-writer she had an undefined celebrity, 
 and though, as the daughter of a music-master, she had 
 previously no individual position, yet the great respect 
 felt for Dr. Burney reflected upon her. She had a large 
 share of vanity and imagination, and made many mis- 
 takes in her various representations of her leading 
 characters. , 
 
 In a letter to Mrs. Hamilton, dated July 3rd, 1786, 
 Mrs. Delany gives the following sketch of her circum- 
 stances and mode of life at this time : ' My health holds 
 out wonderfully in the midst of many trying circum- 
 stances, but I endeavour to look forward with hope and 
 comfort to that place where the weary are at rest, and 
 enjoy the many undeserved blessings still held out to me. 
 During my short stay in London in the winter, many 
 alterations were made in my house here which my royal 
 benefactors thought would make it more commodious to 
 me; and it is now a most complete, elegant, and com- 
 fortable dwelling, and I am hourly receiving marks of 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 attention and kindness that cannot be expressed. The 
 constant course of my life at present, from which I vary 
 very little, is as follows : I seldom miss going to early 
 prayers at the king's chapel at eight o'clock, where I 
 never fail to see their Majesties and all the royal 
 family. . . . When chapel is over all the congregation 
 make a line in the great portico till their Majesties have 
 passed ; for they always walk to chapel and back again, 
 and speak to everybody of consequence as they pass ; 
 and it is a delightful sight to see so much beauty, 
 dignity, and condescension united as they are in this 
 royal family. I come home for breakfast generally 
 about nine o'clock, and then take the air for two hours. 
 The rest of the morning is devoted to business and the 
 company of my particular friends ; but I admit no formal 
 visitors, as I really have not time or spirits for it. My 
 afternoons I keep entirely to myself, that I may have no 
 interruption whenever my royal neighbours condescend 
 to visit me : their usual time of coming is between six 
 and seven, and they generally stay till between eight and 
 nine. They always drink tea here, and my niece has the 
 honour of giving it to all the royal family, as they will 
 not suffer me to do it. The queen always places me on 
 the sofa by her, and the king, when he sits down, sits 
 next the sofa. Indeed, their visits are not limited to the 
 afternoons, for they often call on me in the morning, and 
 take me as I am. 1 
 
 Of one of these informal visits Miss Port, who was then 
 about fifteen, gives a description in a letter to her father : 
 ' We had the three youngest princesses to breakfast with 
 us during their majesties 1 absence last week, and I entreated 
 Princess Mary to play a lesson of Handel's that mamma 
 does — I gave her that as my reason for asking for it ; and 
 
 263 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 then she, with all the sweetness in the world, played it 
 twice. When Princess Mary had finished, Princess Sophia 
 said, " Now I will play to you if you like, 11 and immediately 
 played the Hallelujah Chorus in the Messiah, and she and 
 Princess Mary sang it. P. Mary has really a fine voice, 
 and P. Sophia a sweet but weak one. So between them 
 both I was highly gratified, and I wished for mamma to 
 hear and see them, for they looked like little angels. 
 They are very, very fair, with fine blue eyes, and hair exactly 
 like Fanny's, which they have a vast deal of, and which 
 curls all down their backs. They go without caps, and are 
 so engaging in their behaviour that everybody must love 
 them, and admire those who made them what they are. 1 
 
 In September an attempt was made by a lunatic to 
 assassinate George in. Of this occurrence Mrs. Delany 
 writes to Mrs. Hamilton, * I am sure you must be sensible 
 how thankful I am to Providence for the late wonderful 
 escape of his Majesty from the stroke of assassination. 
 The king would not suffer anybody to inform the queen 
 of that event till he could show himself in person to her. 
 He returned to Windsor as soon as the Council was over. 
 When his Majesty entered the queen's dressing-room he 
 found her with the two eldest princesses ; and entering in 
 an animated manner, he said, " Here I am, safe and well ! " 
 The queen suspected from this saying that some accident 
 had happened, on which he informed her of the whole 
 affair. The queen stood struck and motionless for some 
 time, till the princesses burst into tears, on which she 
 immediately found relief. Joy soon succeeded this agita- 
 tion of mind, on the assurance that the person was insane, 
 which took off all aggravating suspicion ; and it has been 
 the means of showing the whole kingdom that the king 
 has the hearts of his subjects. Their Majesties sent im- 
 264 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 mediately to my house to give orders that I should not 
 be told of it till next morning, for fear that the agitation 
 should give me a bad night. The Dowager Lady Spencer 
 was in the house with me, and went with me to early 
 prayers next morning at eight o'clock, and after chapel 
 she separated herself from me, and had a long conference 
 with the king and queen. I was commanded in the evening 
 to attend them at the lodge, Lady Spencer having, at the 
 Majesties' desire, told me all the affair. My happiness 
 in being with them was much increased by seeing the 
 fulness of their joy. 1 
 
 In November Horace Walpole sent Mrs. Delany a new 
 edition of his Anecdotes of Painting, with the following 
 note : ' Mr. Walpole having been called upon for a new 
 edition of the Anecdotes of Painting, could not, in a history 
 of English Arts, resist the agreeable occasion of doing 
 iustice to one who has founded a new branch. He hopes, 
 therefore, that Mrs. Delany will forgive the liberty he has 
 taken of recording her name in vol. ii. page 242, and that 
 she will please to consider how cruel it would have been 
 for him to be denied the satisfaction of mentioning her 
 only because he has the honour and happiness of her 
 acquaintance.'' 
 
 The notice appears in connection with the allusion to 
 Petitofs picture of himself, which was bequeathed by the 
 Duchess of Portland to Mrs. Delany : ' a lady of excellent 
 taste, who, at the age of seventy-four, invented the art of 
 paper mosaic, with which material (coloured) she executed 
 in eight years, within twenty of one thousand various 
 flowers and flowering shrubs with a precision and truth 
 unparalleled." 1 
 
 So close was the attachment of the royal family to their 
 friend and neighbour that they could not bear to be 
 
 265 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 parted from her even during their fortnightly visits to 
 Kew. In a letter to Mrs. Hamilton, dated December 25th, 
 1786, Mrs. Delany says : ' I believe you know nothing of 
 my flights to Kew, which is about ten miles from this 
 place. The royal family once a fortnight take Kew in 
 their way to London. Their Majesties were so gracious 
 as to hint their wish for my spending some days at Kew 
 when they were there, and to make it completely agreeable 
 and commodious, engaged Mr. and Mrs. Smelt, who live 
 there, to invite me to their house, a pleasure of itself that 
 would have given me wings for the undertaking. I availed 
 myself of the command of the one and the invitation of 
 the other, and spent part of two weeks there. I think 
 you can hardly be a stranger to the character of Mr. 
 Smelt, 1 a man that has the honour of being Jr'iend to the 
 Icing, and who has testified to the world by his disinterested 
 and steady behaviour how Avorthy he is of such a dis- 
 tinction. His character is of the most noble and delicate 
 kind, and deserves the pen of a Clarendon to do justice 
 to it. Mrs. Smelt is a very friendly, sensible, agreeable 
 woman. Their house is convenient and elegant, situated 
 on the banks of the Thames, open to all its beauties, and 
 guarded from all its inconveniences, and within a short 
 walk from the Royal Lodge. They were visited more 
 than once a day by their Majesties, which pleasure I had 
 the honour of partaking. We were appointed to dine 
 every day at Miss Burney's table at the lodge. It is very 
 magnificent, and the society very agreeable, of about eight 
 or ten persons belonging to their Majesties. About nine 
 the king generally walked into the room, addressing 
 everybody, and after that commanded me and Mrs. Smelt 
 
 1 Deputy-tutor to the Prince of Wales, 1771 
 
 266 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 to follow him to the queers apartment, where we drank 
 tea and stayed till near ten o'clock. 1 
 
 The following amusing little incident, which occurred 
 during one of those flights to Kew, is related in a letter 
 from Mrs. Delany's housekeeper to her mistress's old 
 friend, Mrs. Anne Viney : 'Their Majesties stayed at 
 Kew during the Commemoration performances in June 
 1787, and brought Mrs. Delany with them. On one of 
 the days when there was no music the king went to 
 Windsor. As he was walking on the terrace, he thought 
 he would go into Mrs. Delany's, and he knocked at a 
 room door. A young lady (I suppose Miss Port) was 
 sitting in the room, and said, " Who is there ? " The 
 voice answered, " It is me." Then said she, " Me may 
 stay where he is." He knocked again, and she again said, 
 " Who is there ? M The voice answered, " It is me." 
 Then said she, " Me is impertinent, and may go about his 
 business. 1 ' Upon the knocking being repeated a third 
 time, some person who was with her advised her to open 
 the door, and see who it could be. When, to her great 
 astonishment, who should it be but the king himself! 
 All she could utter was, " What shall I say ? " " Nothing 
 at all, 11 said his Majesty. "You was very right to be 
 cautious whom you admitted. 11 And no doubt it gave 
 him more pleasure than if he had been received in any 
 other way. 1 
 
 In January 1787 Mrs. Delany had gone to her town- 
 house, where she was laid up for some weeks with a sharp 
 attack of fever and malignant sore throat. Her wonderful 
 constitution enabled her to rally from her indisposition in 
 spite of the heroic remedies of bleeding and fasting pre- 
 scribed by the doctors. In May she returned to Windsor, 
 where she now thought of settling for good. Writing 
 
 267 
 
MRS. DELANV 
 
 to a friend in August she says, ' My powers are not equal 
 to my will, though upon the whole I find myself tolerably 
 well. . . . The queen has had the goodness to command 
 me to come whenever it is quite easy for me to do it, 
 without sending for me, lest it should embarrass me to 
 refuse : so that most evenings at half-past seven I go to 
 Miss Bumey's apartment, and when the royal family return 
 from the terrace, the king, or one of the princesses, generally 
 the Princess Amelia, aged four, comes into the room, takes 
 me by the hand and leads me to the drawing-room, where 
 there is a chair for me by the queers left hand ; the 
 three eldest princesses sit round the table, and the ladies- 
 in-waiting. A vacant chair is left for the king, when- 
 ever he pleases to sit down. Every one is employed with 
 pencil, needle, or knitting. Between the pieces of music 
 the conversation is easy and pleasant ; and for an hour 
 before the conclusion of the whole the king plays back- 
 gammon with one of his equerries, and I am generally 
 dismissed. 1 
 
 In the course of the summer Mrs. Preston, an old 
 Dublin friend, paid a visit to Mrs. Delany, whom she had 
 not seen for more than twenty years, and she writes the 
 following account of their interview to Mrs. Hamilton : 
 ' I will not delay giving you the pleasure I know you 
 must receive from having such an account of Mrs. Delany 
 as I can truly give you, from having spent two hours with 
 her this morning. I was with her at nine, and heard 
 (with no small agitation) her well-known foot hastening 
 down to meet me. For a few minutes our meeting was 
 silent, as many circumstances rushed into our minds very 
 affecting to us both. I dreaded seeing the alteration in 
 her that was naturally to be expected from twenty years 1 
 absence, from the period in her life from sixty-seven to 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 eighty-seven. But I was soon set at ease by seeing the 
 same apprehension, attention, benevolence, and comfort- 
 able enjoyment of every pleasant circumstance in her 
 situation that you remember in her. Her inquiries, her 
 remarks, her whole conversation, full of life and ingenuity ; 
 and that kind heart and manner of expressing its feelings, 
 as warm as ever ! She is as upright, and walks as alertly, 
 as when you saw her. In short, I could have had no idea 
 of her being as I saw her in every way. . . . Miss Port is 
 a most pleasing girl, with the manners you may suppose 
 Mrs. Delany's eleve would have. The king and queen 
 and all the younger branches increase in affection and 
 respect to Mrs. Delany. She breakfasted with them 
 yesterday, and the king always makes her lean upon his 
 arm. Her house is cheerful, and filled with her own 
 charming works : no pictures have held their colours so 
 well. 1 
 
 Mrs. Preston also relates a little anecdote of Queen 
 Charlotte's kindness and consideration, another version of 
 which appears in Madame DWrblay's Diary : ' As soon 
 as the Duchess of Portland died Mrs. Delany got into the 
 chaise to go to her own home. The duke followed her, 
 begging to know what she would accept that had belonged 
 to his mother. Mrs. Delany recollected a bird that the 
 duchess always fed and kept in her own room, and 
 desired to have it, and felt towards it as you may suppose. 
 In a few days Mrs. Delany got a bad fever, and the bird 
 died ; but for some hours she was too ill to recollect her 
 bird. The queen had one of the same sort, which she 
 valued extremely (a weaver bird) ; she took it with her 
 own hands, and while Mrs. Delany slept, she had the cage 
 brought, and put her own bird into it, charging every one 
 not to let it go so near Mrs. Delany that she could per- 
 
 269 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 ceive the change, till she was enough recovered to bear 
 the loss of her first favourite.'' 
 
 In November of this year Henry Bunbury, the famous 
 caricaturist, paid a visit to Windsor. After his departure 
 he wrote, or rather drew, an ingenious hieroglyphic letter 
 to Miss Port, of which the following is the interpretation : 
 ' Ass carrying on a correspondence with a young lady is 
 a ten dead with danger in these Times, wood eye could 
 Apollo g'ize toe ewer ant for a dress Inn you without her 
 permission. Ass entertaining ass rid Us a Peer let-ter 
 own nought is Moor puzzling than high rogue leaf x. 
 Teller toe x plain this ass fast as possible. — H. B." 1 
 
 On January 18th, 1788, Mrs. Delany Avrites from St. 
 James's Place : 'I came to town the beginning of this week. 
 My illustrious neighbours have also removed to their 
 winter quarters, which makes me less regret leaving 
 Windsor. This is now a melancholy home to me, as 
 recollection brings back the happy hours that made this 
 situation so dear. My niece is now of an age to be 
 indulged with those amusements which are reasonable at 
 her time of life, and indeed she is worthy of all my care. 
 The most extraordinary account I can give of myself is 
 my having made a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Locke at Norbury, 
 about thirty miles from Windsor, in the month of October. 
 Mr. Locke is esteemed one of the most perfect characters 
 living. His lady's outward form and amiable disposition 
 are truly angelic. They have two sons and three 
 daughters. The eldest son is the first genius of the day 
 for drawing. My niece spent four days there very agree- 
 ably. 1 
 
 270 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 (1788) 
 
 Early in April, after a visit to Kew, Mrs. Delany was 
 taken ill with a feverish chill and oppression of breathing. 
 On April 7th, Miss Port writes to Mrs. Dickenson, ' My 
 aunt has passed a very bad day, the fever and oppression 
 on her breath increasing every moment. Indeed, to so 
 violent a degree that, without waiting for Dr. Turton, 
 Mr. Young bled her. She appears somewhat relieved, 
 but not so much as they expected, upon which Dr. Turton 
 has ordered a blister which, if she is not speedily and 
 greatly relieved, is to be put on . . . 
 
 ' April 8th. 
 
 'As I feared, the blister was obliged to be applied. 
 She has been up to have her bed made, and Mr. Young 
 says that, thank God, she is really better ; that is, the 
 fever is very much conquered, but she is weaker than can 
 be imagined.'* 
 
 On April 13th, Bernard Dewes writes to Mrs. Dickenson : 
 ' Miss Port is gone to church. I shall therefore take upon 
 me to answer your kind note, which I have the satisfaction 
 of being able to do as well as time will permit. Mrs. 
 Delany certainly continues gradually mending, and Dr. 
 Turton's expression this morning was, " I have the greatest 
 reason to believe that we shall now have our old friend 
 restored to us.'" But for that purpose it is absolutely 
 
 271 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 necessary to keep her as quiet as possible, and this sage 
 advice we most carefully observe, so I hope and trust her 
 most valuable life will still be spared to her family and 
 friends."' 
 
 On the same day Horace Walpole wrote to the same 
 lady, ' How very kind, my dear madam, in the midst 
 of your anxiety, to think of mine ! I am as much obliged 
 to you as if you had cured Mrs. Delany. " Certainly 
 recovering, 11 I trust she is, and that you will be rewarded 
 by enjoying her again. But I fear you will dread London, 
 after being received by such alarms about her and your 
 daughter, who, I hope, remains quite well ; and that she 
 and you may live to Mrs. D/s age, and be as much 
 beloved. 1 
 
 But even Mrs. Delany "s vigorous constitution, which 
 might have thrown off the sickness, was not able to hold 
 out against the medical treatment of that period ; and on 
 April 15, 1788, she ended her long, happy, and blameless 
 existence, and went down to the grave full of years, full 
 of honours, and mourned by troops of friends. Her 
 waiting-woman, Mrs. Astley, gives the following account 
 of her mistress's last days on earth : ' An inflammation of 
 the lungs was certainly the cause of Mrs. Delany's death, 
 caught in going to meet the Royal family at Kew. After 
 three days 1 illness, the fever began to intermit, and she was 
 thought better ; then it was that the doctors ordered bark 
 to be administered. When I told Mrs. Delany, she 
 looked so distressed, and said, " I have always had a 
 presentiment that if bark were given, it would be my 
 death. You know I have at times a great defluxion 
 on my lungs ; it will stop that, and my breath with it. 11 
 This I mentioned to the doctors, but they said there was 
 no alternative, and it was the only medicine they could 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 depend on to remove the fever ; but seeing the dear lady 
 so averse to taking it, I offered to keep her secret, and put 
 it away. " Oh, no, 11 she said, " I never was reckoned 
 obstinate, and I will not die so." The effect was what 
 she had foretold. Many hours — a great many — did she lie 
 after she had lost the use of speech, labouring for breath." 1 
 
 From the favourable opinion expressed by her doctors 
 so late as April 13, Mrs. Delany 's death caused her friends 
 almost as painful a shock as though she had been in the 
 first vigour of her youth ; and upon her great-niece, then 
 in her seventeenth year, the effect was overwhelming. 
 ' Oh, madam,'' writes the poor girl to Mrs. Dickenson, 
 ' she is no more ! On Tuesday she expired at eleven 
 o'clock at night. Were it not for the assurance I have 
 of her felicity, I think it would not be possible for me 
 to exist.' 
 
 In accordance with Mrs. Delany's oft-expressed desire 
 that she should be buried, 'no matter where,"' and at 
 as small an expense as decency would permit, she was 
 laid to rest in a vault of her parish church of St. James's. 
 On one of the columns of this church there is a tablet to 
 her memory, bearing an inscription by Dr. Hurd, Bishop 
 of Worcester, to the effect that Mary Delany, nee Gran- 
 ville, was 'a lady of singular ingenuity and politeness, 
 and of unaffected piety. These qualities endeared her 
 through life to many noble and excellent persons, and 
 made the close of it illustrious by procuring for her 
 many signal marks of grace and favour from their 
 Majesties. 1 
 
 Two portraits of Mrs. Delany were painted by Opie — 
 
 one for the King, and the other for Lady Bute. Of the 
 
 former Horace Walpole said that it was 'pronounced'' 
 
 like a Rembrandt, and told Mrs. Delany that it did not 
 
 s 273 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 make her look older than she was, but older than she did. 
 For Lady Bute^ portrait, an elaborately-carved frame was 
 designed by Horace Walpole, the principal ornaments being 
 emblematic of Mrs. Delany's particular accomplishments, 
 such as easel, palette, pencil, and musical instruments. On 
 the palette was the following inscription, also the work of 
 Horace Walpole : ' Mary Granville, niece of Lord Lans- 
 down, correspondent of Swift, widow of Mr. Pendarves 
 and of Dr. Delany, Dean of Down. Her piety and 
 virtues, her excellent understanding, and her talents and 
 taste in music and painting were not only the merits, 
 ornaments, and comfort of an uniform life, but the bless- 
 ings that crowned and closed the termination of her 
 existence at the uncommon age of eighty-eight.'' 
 
 Stilted epitaphs, however, render but inadequate testi- 
 mony to the worth of this 'honourable woman'' com- 
 pared with that which may be read between the lines 
 of her letters and recollections. The fact that she 
 attained so great a celebrity in her own day, and that 
 her name is still revered, must be regarded as one of the 
 rare triumphs of personal character over the more dazz- 
 ling attributes of genius. She was no professional wit, 
 no publicly toasted beauty ; she never published a book, 
 exhibited a picture, nor even made herself the heroine 
 of a scandal. Her artistic productions, though admirable 
 of their kind, were avowedly the work of an amateur, 
 and were only known among her own circle of friends. 
 Why, then, was she famous ? For it seems to be still 
 regarded as a slight achievement for a woman to be 
 virtuous, cultivated, and charming, though there may 
 come a time when genius in the art of living may be 
 held deserving of greener and more glorious laurels than 
 genius in the arts of music, painting, or poetry. 
 274 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 In an interesting and sympathetic article on Mrs. 
 Delany in BlackiooocTs Magazine for April 1862, the writer 
 seeks to solve the problem why Mrs. Delany, who never 
 achieved nor even attempted any public success, should 
 shine serenely over the heads of the Carters, Rowes, and 
 Montagus in tender individual celebrity. ' Is it, 1 he inquires, 
 ' that some natural instinct of humanity points out as the 
 perfection of her sex the appreciative, sympathetic woman, 
 whose business it is to perceive, to comprehend, to quicken 
 the ear and eye of society with that bright and sweet intelli- 
 ence which, in the most subtle, imperceptible way, leads, 
 forms, and refines public opinion, and brings genius and 
 excellence into fashion ? , The reviewer is of opinion that 
 Mrs. Delany 1 s reputation was the spontaneous tribute of one 
 generation's love, admiration, and homage, handed down 
 to posterity with a certain indescribable independence of 
 any actual foundation — differing in some ineffable fashion 
 from the hard-earned renown of heroes and great men, 
 yet warm with a tender personal sentiment beyond the 
 reach of loftier laurels, the quintessence of feminine fame. 
 
 'On her and such as her the world bestows spon- 
 taneously and of grace such tender myrtle crowns as 
 neither toil nor talent can obtain.'' 
 
 275 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 (supplemental) 
 
 At the conclusion of old-fashioned romances it used to be 
 customary for the author to gather up the loose ends of 
 his story, and give some indication, at least, of the fate 
 that befell the subordinate characters. In the romances 
 of real life it is not always easy to gratify the reader's 
 supposed desire to know what happened to the various 
 personages whose fortunes have been interwoven with 
 those of the hero or heroine. Lady Hanover's edition 
 of the Autobiography and Correspondence breaks off 
 Avith the death of Mrs. Delany ; even Miss Port, the 
 ' G. M. A., 1 whom we have come to know quite inti- 
 mately during the first sixteen years of her life, disappears 
 from our sight under the cloud of grief that overwhelmed 
 her for the loss of her kind protector and friend. But 
 doubtless the Editor felt that the family history became 
 from that time too personal and too intimate for her to 
 be able to record it with an impartial pen. Others, how- 
 ever, have in some measure lifted the veil ; and with the 
 help of the privately -printed History of the Granville 
 Family, by the Rev. Roger Granville ; and the Memoirs 
 of the Baroness de Bunsen, by Mr. Augustus Hare, it is 
 possible to sketch a brief sequel to the story of Mary 
 Granville. 
 
 Of Mrs. Dewes' three sons, Court, Mrs. Delany 's favourite 
 276 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 nephew, died unmarried in 1793, when his brother Bernard 
 succeeded him at Wellesbourne. John, the youngest, 
 who, it will be remembered, had taken the name of Gran- 
 ville, lived at Calwich, where his Port nephews and nieces 
 were frequent visitors. Unhappily, Mr. Granville's only 
 son died of consumption at the age of nineteen ; and con- 
 sequently Court, the eldest son of Bernard, succeeded 
 eventually to both Calwich and Wellesbourne, assuming in 
 his turn the name and arms of Granville. Owing to unfor- 
 tunate speculations, Court the younger was obliged to sell 
 Calwich, a proceeding that would certainly have afflicted 
 his Aunt Delany could she have lived to see it. The 
 present owner of Wellesbourne and representative of this 
 branch of the Granville family is Court's grandson, Major 
 Bevil Granville. 
 
 To turn to the Port family. Before Mrs. Delany's death 
 Mr. Port had been compelled to let Ham, and remove 
 with his large family to a house at Derby. It was 
 probably in consequence of Mr. Port's financial difficulties 
 that Mrs. Delany left her adopted child, Georgina Port, 
 in the charge of her uncle, Court Dewes. But this arrange- 
 ment did not prove a happy one. Court, although he had 
 always shown himself an affectionate and dutiful nephew, 
 was naturally (according to our chroniclers) of a cold, 
 ungenial nature; moreover, he is said to have disliked 
 young people, and to have treated his niece with coldness, 
 as well as with neglect of her worldly interests. Young as 
 she was at the time of her aunt's death, Miss Port is 
 believed to have already formed an attachment for a 
 gentleman about the Court, probably one of the equerries 
 to the King. According to family tradition, this engage- 
 ment was broken off through the mischief-making of Fanny 
 Burney, who considered that she had an exclusive claim 
 
 277 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 upon the attentions of the equerries. Be that as it may, 
 it is certain that Miss Port was far from happy during 
 the years that immediately followed her aunt's death. 
 
 Court Dewes, being obliged to live a good deal abroad 
 for the sake of his health, Georgina was taken charge of 
 by Mr. and Mrs. John Granville, who, by all accounts, 
 were a most cheerful and kind-hearted couple. But the 
 young girl, who had not yet recovered from the double 
 grief caused by the loss of her aunt and her lover, fancied 
 that no one cared for her, and that she was not wanted by 
 any member of her family. She imagined that she could 
 never know happiness again, and that it mattered little 
 what became of her. During a season at Bath her remark- 
 able beauty brought her many admirers, among them Mr. 
 Waddington, a gentleman of good family and large fortune. 
 Mr. Waddington's suit being encouraged by her uncle and 
 aunt, Miss Port allowed herself to be guided by their 
 wishes, and accepted his offer, although she was but just 
 eighteen, while he Avas more than twenty years her senior. 
 
 The marriage took place in 1789, and for the first two 
 years the couple lived at Dunston Park in Berkshire, where 
 Frances, afterward the Baroness de Bunsen, was born 
 in 1791. Shortly after her birth, Mr. Waddington bought 
 the picturesque White House at Llanover, in the lovely 
 valley of the Usk, formerly the property of a branch of 
 the Cecil family. Here, in almost complete seclusion, the 
 young wife was content to remain for the next eleven 
 years, occupying herself with her books, her drawing, and 
 the education of her little daughters. From the childish 
 recollections of the Baroness Bunsen some idea may be 
 formed of the occupations and amusements of those quiet 
 years. The children were brought up in habits of hardy 
 independence, and were never overburdened with lessons, 
 278 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 though what was learned had to be learned thoroughly. 
 They led a healthy out-of-door existence — riding the 
 horses barebacked, paddling in the little brook that 
 rushes through the grounds, and climbing the hills that 
 surround their home. Occasionally we get a glimpse of 
 the Dewes and Port relations. Frances goes to stay with 
 her grandfather, Mr. Port, at Derby, where she is dazzled 
 by the beauty of her Aunt Louisa, and charmed by the 
 gentle unselfishness of her Aunt Harriet, who, as the only 
 plain member of a handsome family, was not as highly 
 appreciated as she deserved. There were visits, too, to 
 Wellesbourne and Calwich, and after 1805 a yearly expedi- 
 tion to London, when the Queen and the princesses used 
 to talk over old times with Mrs. Waddington, and admire 
 her pretty children. Dr. Burney occasionally dined with 
 the Waddingtons in town ; and it appears that Madame 
 D'Arblay's pension had been restored to her after her 
 marriage, on the representation of Mrs. Waddington, 
 who had made known her reduced circumstances to Queen 
 Charlotte. If the story of Fanny Burney 's mischief-making 
 rests on good foundations, this was certainly a case of 
 heaping coals of fire on an enemy's head. 
 
 In the winter of 1816-17 Mr. and Mrs. Waddington, 
 with their three surviving daughters, Frances, Emily, and 
 Augusta, went to Rome, a journey which was to mark 
 the beginning of a new epoch in the lives of two at least 
 of the party. Bunsen, then a young unknown student, 
 was admitted to intimacy with the Waddington family, 
 and allowed to read German with Frances. A love 
 affair was the not unnatural consequence, but the declara- 
 tion of this attachment was received with some con- 
 sternation by the young lady's parents. In being poor, 
 obscure, and a foreigner, Bunsen had committed three 
 
 279 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 crimes against the usual English standard of eligibility. 
 However, Niebuhr, who was consulted in the matter, 
 expressed his earnest conviction that the talents and 
 character of Bunsen constituted a capital far more re- 
 munerative than any money investment. Mrs. Wadding- 
 ton, remembering possibly that by the feminine traditions 
 of her own family character had almost invariably been 
 placed above rank or fortune, allowed herself to be guided 
 by Niebuhrs advice, and the marriage took place in July 
 1817. Little more than twenty years later, that ineligible 
 son-in-law came to London as Prussian Minister at the 
 Court of St. James. 
 
 Within two or three days of her sister's wedding, Emily, 
 whose health had always been delicate, was married to 
 Colonel Manby, a union that was cut short by death only 
 two years later. Mr. and Mrs. Waddington, accompanied 
 only by their youngest daughter, returned to their quiet 
 home at Llanover. Augusta, a brilliant, high-spirited girl 
 of fifteen, had already given proofs of a strong individu- 
 ality and considerable natural gifts. The studies that 
 failed to appeal to her she absolutely rebelled against; 
 but when her interest was once roused, her energy and per- 
 severance were inexhaustible. Her drawings had won praise 
 from Thorwaldsen, she was already a fine linguist, and now 
 the history, literature, and music of her Welsh fatherland 
 were to become the chief objects of her enthusiasm. But 
 her sympathies were wide. The eighteenth century and 
 its traditions also possessed a strong fascination for her ; 
 and it is certain that she proved an eager and attentive 
 listener to her mother's stories of ' Aunt Delany,' her life 
 and times. No doubt the old family letters were read 
 and re-read during the long winter evenings at Llanover, 
 the fairy-like embroideries examined and copied, and the 
 280 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 leaves of the famous Flora turned over with reverent 
 hands. 
 
 In 1823 Augusta Waddington, then twenty-one, was 
 married to Mr., afterwards Sir Benjamin, Hall of Aber- 
 carne, who was created Lord Llanover in 1859. After 
 his marriage Mr. Hall bought a portion of the old 
 Llanover estate, and built upon it the large mansion, now 
 known as the Lower House. Mr. Waddington died in 
 1828 ; and the following year Mrs. Waddington, accom- 
 panied by Mr. and Mrs. Hall, paid another visit to Rome, 
 and saw her eldest daughter again, after a separation that 
 had lasted eleven years. The Bunsens" 1 large family and 
 straitened means kept them for the most part stationary ; 
 but in 1838 they came with their children to Llanover, 
 when the church-bells were rung and the avenues decorated 
 to do them honour. In 1841 Bunsen was appointed to 
 represent his country at the Court of St. James. 
 
 Down to the end of her long life Mrs. Waddington, we 
 are told, retained her warm sympathies and her wonderful 
 intellect. The last years of her existence passed peacefully 
 in her country home, among her peasant neighbours, and 
 it is pleasant to know that her enjoyment of simple natural 
 pleasures — her birds, her flowers, and her books — remained 
 as fresh as in the days of her girlhood. At a dinner given 
 to the villagers during the last Christmas season of her 
 life, one of the old men, instead of drinking her health, 
 said, ' I drink, Madam, to your happy passage to the 
 realms of bliss ; we can neither of us be very long in this 
 world.'' — ' That is the very best toast I ever heard in my 
 life, 1 was her reply. Barely six months later, on June 15, 
 1850, when she had been occupied as usual in arranging 
 her flowers and reading her letters, Mrs. Waddington 
 received what she felt to be her death-stroke. With the 
 
 281 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 fine fortitude that was one of the traditions of her 
 eighteenth-century training, she walked unassisted to her 
 room, lay down upon her bed, and never spoke again, 
 thus mercifully escaping long lingering months of feeble- 
 ness and uselessness that would have been intolerable to 
 one of her strong mind and active habits. She had left 
 directions that she was to be buried in the earth, * like the 
 poor ' ; and when her coffin was borne to the little church- 
 yard across the park, the ancient Welsh dirge called 
 ' Gorphenwyd , was chanted by the people among whom 
 she had passed her life. 
 
 It was fortunate that the White House — now known as 
 the Upper House (or Ty Uchaf ) — and its treasures, many 
 of which had belonged to Mrs. Delany, passed into the 
 reverent keeping of Lady Llanover. The old house, though 
 rarely inhabited, was kept up in its accustomed state, and 
 the decorations, when renewed, were chosen to harmonise 
 with the eighteenth-century furniture. It seems probable 
 that Lady Llanover had long in contemplation the publi- 
 cation of Mrs. Delany 's Correspondence, and had collected 
 materials from other members of the family ; but it is not 
 until the late ' fifties , that we find her regularly at work 
 upon the book, selecting, arranging, and annotating the 
 vast mass of material. In 1857 she spent three months in 
 London, going daily to the British Museum, accompanied 
 by her assistants, for purposes of research and verification. 
 In 1861 the first series appeared in three substantial volumes, 
 ornamented with numerous engravings from family portraits, 
 and enriched by voluminous notes. This was followed, in 
 1862, by the second series, also consisting of three volumes, 
 with an index covering nearly a hundred pages. 
 
 A brief account of the reception that was accorded to 
 this remarkable book forty years ago may not be without 
 282 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 interest to the modern reader. The sale is said to have 
 been larger than was expected, considering the high price 
 of the work, and its value was soon recognised by the 
 genuine lover of chronicles of old days and by the earnest 
 student of eighteenth-century history, a public fit though 
 few; few, that is, in comparison with the novel-reading 
 multitudes. Curiously enough, the book was ignored by 
 both the Edinburgh and the Quarterly Reviews, though 
 the Diaries of a Lady of Quality and Mrs. Trench's Letters 
 were noticed in the pages of one or both about the same 
 time. Two long and exhaustive reviews appeared in the 
 Athenaeum (among other journals), and one, to which 
 allusion has already been made, in Blackwood '* Magazine. 
 The former were sufficiently appreciative, though written 
 in the rather patronising and flippant style affected by 
 the reviewers of the early 'sixties. -1 The first Athenaeum 
 notice, which appeared on January 5, 1861, begins with 
 the quoted declaration of ' a certain sagacious man of the 
 world, 1 to the effect that if he were permitted to hold 
 converse with a departed spirit he would summon up that 
 of Guy Faux. The reviewer, on the other hand, held that 
 a long passed-away lady, willing to return and tell her 
 little secrets, would be something more delicious still, and 
 remarked that one of the ladies whose spirits he had most 
 desired to see was Mrs. Delany. 
 
 ' No matter whether she came as the well-memoried 
 chatty widow, or as her earlier and blooming self, the 
 tender, irresistible Mary Granville, or as the sad child-wife, 
 the staid young Mrs. Pendarves. In either character she 
 would have received the warmest welcome, and here [in 
 the Correspondence] we have the dear delicious creature 
 in all three. 1 After pointing out that Lord Brougham or 
 Lord Lyndhurst in early boyhood might have seen her 
 
 283 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 whose first husband was born in the reign of Charles n., 
 who herself sat in the lap of Bolingbroke at Powell's 
 Puppet Show, who played with Kitty of Queensberry, who 
 was petted by the ex-maids of honour of Queen Mary, 
 admired by Swift, complimented on her dress by Queen 
 Caroline, and loved as a friend by Queen Charlotte — he 
 concludes : ' Is not this a woman to listen to ? Is not this 
 woman one at whose story we are warranted in drawing 
 the curtains, wheeling round the sofa, brightening the 
 fire ? ' 
 
 The Blackwood reviewer brackets Mrs. Delany with 
 Mrs. Thrale, a conjunction that in her lifetime the former 
 lady had always been careful to avoid. However, his 
 comments are for the most part discriminating, more 
 especially when he deals with the curious side-lights that 
 gleam from every page of the book upon questions in 
 which women have the strongest interest. Love, as he 
 remarks with perfect justice, has scarcely any recognised 
 place in these records. ' Those fair, virtuous, cultivated 
 women have little to say to the doubtful divinity. When 
 they are suitably married, it is with a mild equanimity and 
 friendship that they regard the partner of their life. He 
 is mon ami to his calm consort. . . . Kindness, affection, 
 equality of sentiments, and mutual good opinion reigned 
 between the placid pairs, Avhile the wife found in a circle 
 of enthusiastic female friends that passionate and tender 
 love which had nothing to do with commonplace, matri- 
 monial bonds.' 
 
 Beyond a doubt Mrs. Delany might have said, like John 
 Donne, that friendship was her second religion. In the 
 course of her long life, her numerous friendships, tender, 
 loyal, and all-enduring, were handed down, like precious 
 heirlooms, from one generation to another. 
 284 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 It is only natural, perhaps, that the reviewer should 
 allude somewhat slightingly to Mrs. Delany's works as 
 ' pretty efforts of female ingenuity. , Her Flora, her pastels, 
 and her embroideries had been only seen during the 
 past seventy years by members of the family at Llanover 
 and their friends. But an inspection of the two volumes 
 of the Flora — now in the Print Room at the British 
 Museum — will be sufficient to prove that its merit was 
 not overrated by the artists and naturalists of her own 
 day. At the time of the Diamond Jubilee the Hon. Mrs. 
 Herbert of Llanover was anxious to have some of the 
 specimens copied to present to the Queen. The only 
 person found capable of successfully copying these ' efforts 
 of female ingenuity,' executed in advanced old age, was 
 a Japanese artist, who happened to be in London. A 
 glance at the finest of the pastels preserved at Llanover 
 is sufficient to convince the beholder that if Mary 
 Granville had enjoyed the advantage of a professional 
 training, we might have had an English woman pastellist 
 who would have rivalled Rosalba on her own ground. 
 The embroideries, again, are really needle-paintings in 
 the truest sense of the word, and when framed and glazed 
 have all the effect of old illuminations. Mrs. Delany 
 certainly carried out her theory that the ornamental 
 work of gentlewomen ought to be superior to bought 
 work in design and execution, and that their plain work 
 should be the model for their maids. 
 
 As might perhaps have been expected, the reviewers 
 allude with something like dismay to the 'six vast 
 volumes 1 in which the book appeared, and attribute its 
 bulk to the veneration with which the Editor regarded 
 her distinguished relation, whose lightest word she thought 
 worthy of preservation. In 1861 the theory of 'recon- 
 
 285 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 struction, 1 as applied to historical work, was comparatively 
 new, and had not to any great extent been put into 
 practice. Hence, the documentary value of even the most 
 trifling details of domestic life in bygone days was not yet 
 fully understood. History, to the great majority still 
 meant little more than a report (whose accuracy was often 
 affected by party spirit or prejudice) of battles, diplomatic 
 treaties, and political intrigues, while its dramatis per sonce 
 consisted of princes, statesmen, and military leaders. The 
 'atmosphere 1 of a period, the daily life of a people — 
 these were petty matters, beneath the notice of an historian 
 of the classic school. Macaulay, it is true, in the final 
 volumes of his history, published in 1855, had made a 
 successful attempt to reconstitute for his readers the 
 actual life of the closing years of the seventeenth century ; 
 but in the eyes of many of his contemporaries the fact 
 that his book was as interesting as any novel, was merely 
 an additional proof of the inaccuracy of his facts and the 
 unsoundness of his opinions. 
 
 In France, Taine and the De Goncourts, in their histori- 
 cal essays, were doing brilliant work on the lines of recon- 
 struction. The latter, more especially in their vivid 
 pictures of society in France under the Republic and the 
 First Empire, had forsaken the dry-as-dust records be- 
 loved of their colleagues, and had relied for their material 
 upon 'living documents 1 in the shape of newspapers, 
 letters, diaries, squibs, almanacs, and other contemporary 
 ephemerides. They had indeed gone so far as to assert 
 that ' un temps dont on n'a pas un echantillon de robe et 
 un menu de diner, Thistoire ne le voit pas vivre. 1 It 
 is easy to imagine the avidity with which the brothers 
 would have fallen upon the correspondence of Mrs. Delany 
 had she been their compatriot, more especially when 
 286 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 we remember their theory that the old lady's tub-chair 
 (tonneau) was the social pillar of the eighteenth century ; 
 and their testimony to the historical value of these ' living 
 memories 1 in mob cap and spectacles, who held the 
 traditions of the past in their wrinkled hands, and 
 exercised so gentle yet potent an influence on those who 
 came after them. 
 
 The Blackwood reviewer observes that the Delany 
 Correspondence is essentially ' a female book, 1 an * ill 
 phrase, 1 but it will pass. We know he meant that the 
 book presented the woman's point of view ; that it was, in 
 short, a feminine commentary upon the people and events 
 of the period, written frankly, freely, carelessly, and 
 intended only for the eyes of relations or intimate friends. 
 But the fact that it is so completely a ' female book 1 
 will hardly lessen its value in the eyes of reflecting 
 persons. Since the first dawn of civilisation we have 
 been made familiar with the man's point of view ; but, 
 Avith few exceptions, the woman's thoughts, feelings, 
 opinions, have been buried with her, and the half of 
 human history is left a blank. What would we not give 
 nowadays for the Travels of a Lady Mandeville, the 
 Familiar Letters of a Mrs. Howell, the Diary of a Mrs. 
 Evelyn, or a Mrs. Pepys ? 
 
 By the critics and public of 1861 a biographical work 
 appears to have been judged upon its merits as a 'story 1 
 rather than as a document for the elucidation of history. 
 There was a decided impatience of gossiping records 
 and of the repetition of trivial incidents which had 
 no direct bearing upon the life-drama of hero or 
 heroine. It was not yet generally realised that the 
 chronicles of small beer improve, like many other 
 things, with keeping, and that even ' female gossip ' which 
 
 287 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 is upwards of a century old acquires the same kind of 
 pathetic interest as a woman's work-bag or a child's play- 
 thing that has come down to us out of a remote past. We 
 could better spare better things than, for instance, the 
 gossip of a Dame Margaret Paston, or of certain ladies 
 of the Verney family. Splendidly as the eighteenth 
 century has been illustrated for us by the literary and 
 political correspondence of a Pope or a Swift, a Burke or 
 a Bolingbroke, by the vivid character- portraits of a 
 Hervey, and the witty chronicles of a Walpole or Wortley 
 Montagu, the picture would still be incomplete without 
 those details of the vie intime of the period which are 
 painted with Dutch fidelity by Mrs. Delany. From her 
 we know exactly how life appeared to a well-bred, well- 
 educated woman in the reigns of the first three Georges. 
 Nothing is hid from us. We are the confidantes of her 
 love-affairs, we assist at her toilettes, we accompany her 
 to weddings and christenings, to operas and masquerades, 
 we look over her shoulder Avhen she reads or works, we 
 help her to carry out her shopping commissions for 
 country correspondents, we are privy to her little acts 
 of charity, we share her tender anxiety for sick or absent 
 friends. It is these familiar trifles of everyday life that 
 put marrow into the dry bones of history, and blood into 
 its flaccid veins. 
 
 The great work off her hands, Lady Llanover still found 
 plenty to occupy her energies. The cause of Welsh 
 literature, Welsh education, and Welsh music appealed 
 as strongly as ever to her sympathies. Her library con- 
 tains a fine collection of the national chronicles and 
 national airs of the Principality, while she was the 
 originator of the Welsh Collegiate Institution at Llan- 
 dovery. For thirty years it was her custom on St. David's 
 288 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Day to send an offering of ornamental leeks to the Prince 
 and Princess of Wales. These leeks, which were intended 
 to be worn as badges, consisted of a mother-o'-pearl bulb, 
 strings of seed pearls, and green ribbon. Like Mrs. 
 Delany, Lady Llanover was not afraid of undertaking 
 a new art late in life, for she began to study oil-painting 
 when she was more than sixty years of age. As a draughts- 
 woman and embroideress she had always excelled, besides 
 inheriting the family talent for cutting out portraits in 
 paper. 
 
 After Lord Llanover's death in 1867, his widow reigned 
 in solitary state for close upon thirty years, her only 
 surviving child, the Honourable Augusta Hall, being 
 already married to Mr. Herbert of Llanarth. Lady 
 Llanover's mode of life was governed in great measure 
 by the traditions of the eighteenth century, and her tastes 
 were modelled upon those of Mrs. Delany. She inherited, 
 no doubt, the family tendency to length of life, yet the 
 fact that she lived to enter her ninety-fourth year was 
 probably partly due to her abstemious habits. She 
 believed, possibly with justice, that most people ate and 
 drank too much, and she regarded the younger generation 
 as a somewhat degenerate race. A rigid abstainer her- 
 self, she proved the sincerity of her convictions by closing 
 every public-house on her estate, thereby cutting off a 
 substantial source of income. Five o'clock tea and late 
 dinner she entirely disdained, taking her own dinner at 
 two o'clock, and tea at eight. This regime, combined 
 with plenty of fresh air and exercise, proved eminently 
 successful in her own case, for she scarcely knew a day's 
 illness down to the time of her death, from the natural 
 weakness of old age, in January 1896. 
 
 In an obituary notice that appeared in the Athenceum 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 the writer observes that Lady Llanover's 'remarkable 
 energy, her untiring powers of work, and her tenacity of 
 purpose, ensured the success of most of the projects which, 
 during a long life, she undertook with an enthusiasm 
 rarely equalled ; and when asked how it was that she 
 almost invariably attained the ends for which she strove, 
 " By remembering my mother's advice," was her reply, 
 "never to lose sight of your object, or any opportunity 
 of furthering it. . . ."" Lady Llanover possessed remark- 
 able quickness of perception and insight into business, 
 and a genuine gift for narration, so that it is to be 
 regretted that she has left no personal record of the 
 varied experiences of her life. She retained to the last 
 the charm of manner and appearance that had belonged to 
 her earlier life. Failing sight and bodily feebleness alone 
 showed her advanced years."' 
 
 With the death of Lady Llanover a link was snapped 
 that had almost joined the eighteenth Avith the twentieth 
 century, but it is pleasant to know that the family tradi- 
 tions and the family treasures are still in safe keeping. 
 The Upper House stands where it did, surrounded by its 
 bodyguard of veteran trees, and to enter it is to discover 
 what seems to be an enchanted dwelling wherein the clock 
 has stood still for more than a hundred years. There is a 
 dignified, almost an austere, simplicity of furniture and deco- 
 ration which is rest and refreshment to the eye wearied with 
 the fripperies and draperies of the modern drawing-room. 
 Here we see Mrs. Delany's little spinnet on which Mr. 
 Handel played, and there her portrait of the Duchess of 
 Queensberry, and the beautiful pastel of Sigismunda with 
 the heart of Guiscard that Sir Joshua Reynolds mistook 
 for an oil-painting. Mrs. Delany would assuredly have 
 felt herself at home in the ' parlour ' that was Mrs. Wad- 
 290 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 dingtons favourite sitting-room. On the walls are a 
 couple of specimens of her famous cut paper flowers, 
 and a few family portraits. The shelves are filled with 
 books, most of which she might have read, old novels 
 in numerous volumes, bound in grey-blue boards with 
 white backs ; a long array of the Critical and Monthly 
 Reviews, to the mercy of whose contributors Fanny 
 Burney appealed in the preface to Evelina ; letters, 
 memoirs, and journals of last-century celebrities, all in 
 early editions. Even the wall-paper is of Mrs. Delany\s 
 favourite colour, a deep, yet brilliant, shade of blue. At 
 the solid, serviceable table we can imagine her occupied 
 with one of her ingenious works, while ' G.M.A. -1 practised 
 her minuet steps on the polished boards, and the ' amiable 
 Duchess, 1 in her many wrappings, sat beside a huge fire. 
 It is to be hoped that this unique interior, which is so 
 admirable a memorial both of Mrs. Delany and of that 
 fast-receding period which we must soon learn to regard 
 as ' the century before last, 1 may long be preserved in all 
 its picturesque completeness. 
 
 291 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Among the manuscripts relating to Mrs. Delany are several 
 unpublished letters written to or from friends of hers, and 
 also one or two papers containing contemporary accounts 
 of curious matrimonial arrangements. Three letters of 
 Miss Seward's, the Lichfield 'poetess, 1 the first to Mrs. 
 Port, and the others to Court Dewes, are characteristic 
 specimens of her flamboyant style. The first of these is 
 dated May 11, 1787, Miss Seward being then just forty 
 years old, and at the zenith of her poetical fame. The 
 following is an extract from this remarkable production, 
 which reads less like a serious effort than a parody upon 
 what Miss Seward herself would have called the ' epistolary 
 effusions ' of the time : — 
 
 'My dear Madam, — I had great pleasure in reading 
 your letter. Amiable are those effusions of maternal 
 tenderness which flowed from your pen. What a pity it 
 is that Disease should ever cloud the energies of such a 
 brain ! I have myself of late been very unwell — pain and 
 weariness in my limbs ; and after reading or writing for 
 half-an-hour an unconquerable torpor seems to cloud my 
 brain. Beneath the retarding power of this indisposition ., 
 my epistolary debts accumulate to a terrifying magnitude. 
 When last we had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Port I 
 thought of going instantly to Buxton, but as I go to Ludlow 
 292 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 in June I cannot think of so long an absence from my 
 father. And thus, which is a very strong inducement to 
 neglect for once the call of Hygeia, I shall be at home to 
 receive you upon the 22nd, on your road to Ham. Ah ! 
 now, if Miss Port should be with you, the pleasure of 
 seeing her would recompense my disappointment that 
 Mr. Dewes cannot accompany you. I long to see and 
 converse with the dear girl whose fine sense and ingenuous 
 manners the imperial smile has not had power to dazzle 
 or seduce ; and who preserves the village simplicity while 
 she acquires the polish of courts. The desire I have long 
 felt that my Calwich friends and Mr. Dewes might hear 
 our choral minstrels in the Church Service is thrown out 
 of present probability. They are pulling down the carved 
 work with axes and hammers, and the voice of harmony 
 is silent amidst their dissonance. . . .' 
 
 With Mr. Court Dewes Miss Seward evidently carried 
 on a sort of literary flirtation, consulting him about 
 her work, and exchanging criticisms on poets old and 
 new. In an undated letter addressed to Mr. Dewes she 
 writes : — 
 
 ' If leisure should always come to me in such limited 
 portions as it has lately done, and if such a dispropor- 
 tional number of employments should be pressed upon 
 those intervals by Prudence, and by my friendships (all 
 which appear to me extremely probable), the projected mis- 
 cellany can never appear. Transcribing the two epistles 
 from my correspondence with her to whom the letters 
 I read at Calwich were addressed, is all the progress in that 
 intended publication which I have been able to make 
 since we parted ; tho 1 I have scribbled at every possible 
 recess from business, company and exercise, but it has 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 been in wading thro 1 the depths of my epistolary obliga- 
 tions to living- friends. On my return home eleven letters 
 were, with unbroken seals, put into my hands ; and seven 
 of them were very long, nor have I received less than four 
 or five a week ever since. Mr. Hardinge sends me per- 
 petual paquets, containing many sheets, each full of wit, 
 humour, and genius, both in and out of measure, com- 
 bined with the most provokingly stimulative opinions of 
 the want of genius in our modern poets, with whose works 
 I can perceive he is almost wholly unacquainted, tho 1 he 
 has possessed himself with a conviction of their incom- 
 petence. Thus discovering himself a Child of Prejudice, 
 he robs the flattering encomiums he lavishes upon my 
 writings of all their sweetness. It is impossible I can 
 be gratified with praise which is denied to authors 
 to whose works mine bear the same comparison that the 
 figure of an opera-dancer in plaister-of-Paris upon a 
 mantelpiece bears to the Apollo Belvidere in purest 
 marble. 
 
 ' From want of time it is utterly out of my power to 
 answer these letters with a fifth part of the speed and 
 profusion with which I receive them ; yet the returns, 
 poor as they are, that politeness and gratitude on my own 
 account, and indignation on that of others, extort from 
 my pen, make still further and very large inroads upon 
 the claims of the muses, who could before so seldom find 
 my writing-desk unoccupied by preparations for the post- 
 office. 
 
 'I have also been unable to decline making another 
 addition to the number of my correspondents — a Doctor 
 of Divinity of middle age, who has Learning, Wit, and a 
 very glowing Enthusiasm. His name is Warner. He is 
 the masterspring, and was the original mover of the scheme 
 294 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 for raising a statue to Howard. About a month since he 
 passed four days in Lichfield, honouring me with much of 
 his time and attention, and offering me every literary 
 service in his power, with the most affectionate and 
 engaging frankness. 
 
 ' Our town talks loudly, I wish it may be falsely, of 
 Mr. Broke Boothby's 1 ruin — affirms that continual arrests 
 are driving him into France, in probably perpetual exile 
 from his country — an exile embittered, how dreadfully 
 should I think it embittered ! by the consciousness that a 
 number of people in my native land were execrating an 
 unprincipled extravagance, by which they stood deprived 
 of the just dues of their labours. A young gentleman of 
 Lichfield, on a late visit to this infatuated man, saw him 
 receive his perfumery account for the year, which amounted 
 to two hundred pounds.'' 
 
 Another immense letter to Mr. Dewes, containing three 
 original sonnets and an essay on the sonnet-form, is printed 
 in Miss Seward's Correspondence. The following extract 
 is quaint enough in its Miltonic criticism to be repeated 
 here : — ' It does not appear to me that studied exactness 
 or high and brilliant polish are necessary to this order of 
 composition [i.e. the sonnet], or are at all characteristic 
 of the grave, impressive, energetic sonnet of which, in our 
 language, Milton is the Father. To those last refine- 
 ments, or indeed to anvthing like refinement, not one of 
 Milton's lays claim. They often use the plainness of 
 conversational phrase with very fine effect, and without 
 pretension to neatness and high polish, they give us better 
 things. Vigor, compression, and dignity, which results 
 from the power of the thought and imagery, rather 
 than from the exquisite sweetness of the number, are 
 1 A writer of verses, and one of the Lichfield literary set. 
 
 295 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 their characteristics ; yet where the subject is gay or 
 tender a sonnet may be sometimes improved by studious 
 finish.'' 
 
 The letters of Mrs. Delany's friend, Mrs. Elizabeth 
 Carter, the translator of Epictetus, are in pleasant contrast 
 to those of Miss Seward's. Two or three of these are 
 among the unpublished Delany mss., though they are 
 addressed to no member of the family, but possibly to 
 common friends or acquaintances. Mrs. Carter was born 
 in 1717 and died in 1806. Besides her translations, she 
 published a volume of original poems, and contributed a 
 couple of papers to the Rambler. She seems to have been 
 one of the most worthy and dignified members of the 
 blue-stocking set that was presided over by Mrs. Montagu. 
 A specimen or two of her style will suffice to prove that 
 even the most learned lady of the eighteenth century 
 could write simply and naturally when she chose. In a 
 letter dated Deal Lane, June 4, 1750, and addressed to 
 Miss Highmore, 1 she observes : — 
 
 ' And so you think that we queer uniform people who 
 live in the country have not an excuse in the world to 
 help ourselves if we happen to follow the example of our 
 correspondents in town, and not answer a letter as soon 
 as might be expected. But however strange you imagine 
 it to be that folks at threescore miles' distance from London 
 should have any one earthly thing to interrupt their 
 leisure, we have often as much business upon our hands 
 as ever was contained upon a message card. For my own 
 part I have lately so racketed up and down the face of 
 the earth that I have as good a title to the epithet of 
 gossiping as you can boast of, and therefore claim all the 
 privileges to excuse my not thanking you sooner for your 
 1 Samuel Richardson's friend and correspondent. 
 
 296 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 very obliging letter. I congratulate you that there is so 
 soon to appear another volume of your favourite Mrs. 
 Leapor's 1 poetry. It is with much concern that I find 
 myself unable to comply with a request from you and 
 Mr. Browne, but indeed you pay me too great a compli- 
 ment in supposing me capable of writing upon any subject 
 that is proposed to me. Tho 1 I highly respect Mrs. 
 Leapor's character from the account you give of it, yet 
 as she was absolutely unknown to myself, and I am but 
 little acquainted even with her writings, I am upon this 
 account as well as many others, entirely unfit for such an 
 undertaking as you propose. 
 
 ' No doubt you have seen the Ramblers, and I hope you 
 are pleased with them. Something of this kind seems 
 greatly wanted, and I heartily wish these papers may 
 meet with the encouragement they deserve. . . 
 
 ' I have begun my morning rambles, and that I may 
 not oversleep myself, have furnished my room with a 
 Larum, which serves besides as a mighty good exercise of 
 Philosophy for cure to such sleepy-headed mortals as I 
 am. One of the most notable trials of human patience 
 is the impertinence of a Larum. However, its trouble- 
 some admonitions are well compensated when one is revel- 
 ling in hedges, woodbines, and honeysuckles, and all that 
 variety of delight which the fair creation bestows on a 
 morning walk.' 
 
 Mrs. Carter, as has been seen, outlived Mrs. Delany 
 by about twenty years, and the other letters of hers 
 preserved in the Llanover collection are dated 1801, 
 and therefore written when she was over seventy 
 years of age. In the first of these, addressed to Mrs. 
 
 1 Mary Leapor, daughter of a gardener. She published a couple of 
 volumes of poetry, and died in 1744, in the twenty-fourth year of her age. 
 
 297 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Duncombe, Miss Highmore's married name, she says : 
 ' You must have seen in the papers what clouds have 
 involved the political horizon. The illness of our be- 
 loved sovereign, with which he was attacked before the 
 new arrangement had taken effect, threatened sad con- 
 fusion. The delirium was of no consequence, as it was a 
 common effect of the Fevers of this winter ; but this Fever 
 in the King was once so strong as to give apprehensions 
 for his life. That Terror is, in a good degree, removed, so 
 that there is reason to hope he may soon be enabled to 
 resume the cares of Royalty, and settle the floating state 
 of the nation. On Wednesday there was a very affecting 
 scene at the Ancient Music by an additional stanza being- 
 added to " God Save the King,"" containing a prayer for 
 his health. Mr. Sheridan has done himself honour by 
 opposing a very absurd and unfeeling motion for bringing 
 on a very important business when the King was in so an 
 alarming a situation. Mr. Pitt, who came in while Mr. 
 Sheridan was speaking, was more affected than he was 
 ever known to be. . . .' 
 
 ' May 24, 1801. — We have again subject for great 
 thankfulness for our successes, and again for regret in the 
 loss of so many of our gallant countrymen, and their brave 
 commanders at their head. Victory is indeed a very awful 
 blessing, and I heartily join in your supplication for peace. 
 ... I have not seen many new publications, and some that 
 I have seen I have forgot. I remember in general that I 
 liked Percival. The newest that I have heard of or 
 seen are Tableaux de Famttle. This is a translation from 
 German by the translator of Caroline de Lichtfield. It is 
 a work of genius. The characters are well drawn, and 
 with great humour. The moral and religious principles 
 are often very good, but like other German productions, 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 some parts I think exceptionable. The Father and 
 Daughter, by Mrs. Opie, is, I think, original in the story, 
 and the principles unexceptionable. A little volume of 
 Poems by Mr. William Boscawen,the translator of Horace, 
 I have not yet read. I beg your acceptance of the last 
 two volumes, and will bring them with me. 1 
 
 It does not appear from the letters that Mrs. Delany 
 was brought much into contact with Lady Mary Wortley 
 Montagu, but it is evident that there were few of her 
 feminine contemporaries whom she regarded with a more 
 genuine respect and affection than Lady Mary's daughter, 
 Lady Bute. This friendship was continued, as Mrs. 
 Delany's friendships were so apt to be, by the succeeding 
 generation on each side. Lady Bute's brilliantly clever 
 daughter, Lady Louisa Stuart, who was born in 1757, 
 and died in 1851, kept up the family friendship with Miss 
 Port, after the latter became Mrs. Waddington. Among 
 the papers at Llanover are two interesting letters from 
 Lady Louisa, who, as her recently published recollec- 
 tions prove, had inherited much of the wit and vivacity 
 of her celebrated grandmother. The first of these letters, 
 which is undated, was evidently written in answer to one 
 from Mrs. Waddington, inquiring into some point of 
 precedence, and runs as follows : — 
 
 ' Although the grandsons of peers have no legal rank, 
 I believe it is now very commonly given them in society, 
 and therefore according to its present customs you were 
 right in putting Lord Rupert above Lord Hood. It is 
 odd enough that the present Duke of Bedford and his 
 brothers, sons of Lord Tavistock, were Master Russells 
 as long as their old grandfather lived : he would not let 
 them be called Lords ; but it was held one of his whims. 
 However, the late Duke of Rutland's brother (in the 
 
 299 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 same predicament) was called Mr. Manners till presented 
 at Court, when the king [George in.] corrected the Lord 
 of the Bed-chamber with " No, no, Lord Robert Manners." 
 The Duke of Buccleugh of my time, whose father also 
 died before his grandfather, had a brother, Mr. Scott. 
 If I durst say so, the love of mere title has most marvel- 
 lously increased in these last twenty or thirty years, and, 
 I own, appears to me a great increase of vulgarity. Be- 
 tween ourselves, my father's blood would have boiled at 
 the thoughts of one of his descendants suing to be made 
 a paper Lord — paper Ladies there were, and that was 
 thought belonging to female weakness and vanity. The 
 late Lord Derby's sisters remained Miss Stanleys ; Lord 
 Mansfield refused titles for his nieces as below Lord 
 Stormont's daughters to accept — tho' afterwards they 
 became Ladies at their own request. As for men, the 
 thing never was heard of till within these twenty-five 
 years, and the first instance of it happened in the case of 
 no very creditable person. Certainly our old-fashioned 
 pride was in birth and name, and we were too proud to 
 think that heightened by title. However, all pride is 
 perhaps equally foolish."' 
 
 Another letter of Lady Louisa's, whose date can be ap- 
 proximately guessed, is headed ' Article Seven of No. 136, 
 page 450, 1 and is evidently intended to draw Mrs. 
 Waddington's attention to an article in the Edinburgh 
 Review for July 1838, on ' The Character of Chatham.'' 
 In order to make the letter clear, we must first refer to a 
 passage in the article in which the reviewer states that 
 in 1777 Pitt made a brilliant speech on the American 
 War, and replying to Lord Suffolk, who had said, in 
 reference to employing the Indians against our enemies, 
 that 'we were justified in using all the means that God 
 300 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 and nature had put into our hands, 1 exclaimed indignantly, 
 ' I am astonished — shocked — to hear such principles con- 
 fessed, to hear them avowed in this House or in this 
 country — principles equally unconstitutional, unhuman, 
 and unchristian. My Lords, I did not intend to have 
 trespassed again on your attention, but I cannot repress 
 my indignation. I feel myself impelled by every duty. 
 We are called upon by members of this House, as men, 
 as Christian men, to protest against such notions, stand- 
 ing near the throne, polluting the ear of Majesty. That 
 God and nature put into our hands! I know not what 
 idea that Lord may entertain of God and nature, but 
 I know that such abominable principles are equally 
 abhorrent to religion and humanity. What ! Attribute 
 the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacres of 
 the Indian scalping- knife, to the cannibal savage, tortur- 
 ing, murdering, roasting, eating the mangled victims of 
 his barbarous battles. Such horrible notions shock every 
 sentiment of honour ; they shock me as a lover of honour- 
 able war, and a detester of murderous barbarity.'' Pitt 
 further went on to protest that ' From the tapestry that 
 adorns these walls, the ancestor of this noble Lord frowns 
 with indignation at the disgrace of his country r1 ; and 
 concluded, ' I could not have slept this night in my bed, 
 or have reposed my head on my pillow, without giving 
 thus vent to my eternal abhorrence of such preposterous 
 and enormous principles."' 
 
 Lady Louisa, referring to the reviewer's admiration for 
 the passage quoted, observes, 'This is undoubtedly the 
 highest strain of eloquence, a speech that must have 
 convulsed every hearer ; but there was a circumstance in 
 the debate that produced it that the reviewer probably 
 does not know, nor the editor either. Some of those who 
 
 301 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 opposed Lord Chatham hinted that the practice he so 
 forcibly condemned had a precedent, and had begun 
 under his own administration, the Indians having been 
 employed by us in that very war, his pride and boast, 
 that terminated in the conquest of Canada. The French, 
 indeed, were not like the Americans, in some sort our 
 countrymen, and they perhaps commenced this savage 
 warfare, making it on our side only retaliation. Still, 
 the cruelty of it was the same. Lord Chatham gave the 
 charge a flat denial, but in the House of Lords he did 
 not exercise the despotic empire he had once professed 
 over the House of Commons. Some ventured to main- 
 tain their assertion, and appealed for proof to that 
 person who must know most of the matter. This was 
 Sir Jeffrey — lately created Lord Amherst — the general 
 who commanded our troops during the Canadian war. 
 He remained silent till an almost general cry forced him 
 to rise ; then unused to speaking, and much attached to 
 Lord Chatham, he said reluctantly as little on the subject 
 as he could. But that little sufficed to show that our 
 Indian allies were employed, and that no reprehension 
 from home had followed. 
 
 ' Of course I can only speak from hearsay and recollec- 
 tion of the newspapers of what passed in the House of 
 Lords sixty-one years ago. It made much noise, however, 
 and was next day the whole subject of discussion every- 
 where. "And did Pitt really deny it? 11 said my father, 
 lifting his hands and eyes. " Is it possible ? Why, I 
 have by me at this hour letters of his singing Io Pecans 
 upon the successful employment of the Indians in that 
 war." The remarkable expression fixed itself in my 
 memory. I would not quote any opinion of my father's 
 about Lord Chatham, no more than I would trust Lord 
 302 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 Chatham's about him. They had been friends, and 
 became enemies. Which was in the wrong I cannot 
 judge, but reason tells me that they could scarcely 
 estimate each other candidly. Here, however, was no 
 opinion given. My father stated a fact, thinking as it 
 were aloud, and addressing it solely to my mother, who 
 joined him in wondering at Lord Chatham, but seemed 
 not at all surprised at the point itself, which, I presume, 
 was notorious ; since fewer years had elapsed than may 
 now have blotted out the Peninsular contest from people's 
 remembrance. I will add one trifling anecdote. We 
 went that night to a party, where we chanced to meet 
 the late Lord Edgecombe, an habitual joker, and rather a 
 coarse one. " Well, 11 cried he, " had not we a pretty scene 
 in the House yesterday, and a fine opportunity of seeing 
 how a great man looks when he is fairly caught in a 
 lie ? I assure you, he stood it with most magnanimous 
 indifference, not the least discomposed. 11 1 1 
 
 It was the custom with Mary Granville and her con- 
 temporaries to write down curious stories of real life, or 
 accounts of remarkable people which they might happen 
 to hear. Some of those are printed in the Autobiography 
 and Correspondence, but among Mrs. Delany's papers are 
 two, which, to the best of my belief, have never been 
 published. Both deal with marriage arrangements of an 
 unusual kind, the one in high life, the other in low life. 
 The first is entitled ' Account of Phipps 1 Marriage, 1 and 
 relates the circumstances that led to the marriage of 
 Mr. Phipps, afterwards Lord Mulgrave, the grandson of 
 
 1 This letter is particularly interesting at the present time (January, 1900) 
 when scarcely a day passes without our hearing that the natives are with 
 difficulty prevented from throwing themselves into the struggle now raging 
 in South Africa. 
 
 303 
 
MRS. DELANV 
 
 the Duchess of Buckingham, with a daughter of Lord 
 Hervey. 
 
 'The Duchess of Buckingham [nee Darnley, the 
 illegitimate daughter of James n. by Catherine Sedley], 
 by the premature death of her son, the young duke, 
 became possessed of all his fortune. Her daughter by 
 the Earl of Anglesea (her first husband) married Sir 
 Constantine Phipps, a lawyer, and Chancellor of Ireland. 
 The son of this marriage the Duchess resolved to make 
 her heir, and being aware that he was not likely to have 
 had very polished training, consulted Lord Hervey how 
 he might be brought forward in the world with advantage. 
 Lord Hervey said, " Marry him into some well-established 
 family. 11 " Well, 11 said the Duchess, " but to whom or 
 how? 11 " Why, you shall have my daughter. 11 Agreed. 
 Lord Hervey then told the young lady he could give her 
 very little fortune, and she must consider whether she would 
 take this probably unlicked Irish cub or stand the chances 
 of a worse match or none. She assented, and Mr. Phipps 
 was sent for to town. He came on Thursday night to 
 Buckingham House, was carried into the apartment ap- 
 propriated for him, where supper was served with great 
 magnificence. The next morning they told him the mercer, 
 tailor, etc., waited for his commands, and soon after came 
 my Lord Hervey to wait on him, who told him that he 
 came to make him an offer of his daughter, that the Duchess 
 of Buckingham had chosen to be his wife. His answer was 
 he really had no acquaintance with the young lady, and 
 could not tell what to say to it. But that was nothing 
 — married he was to be, and the young lady was brought 
 in the evening. She is very handsome, and a fine figure. 
 Mr. Phipps, they say, was struck with astonishment at 
 her beauty. The Duchess of Buckingham received her 
 304 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 lying on a white satin couch, under a white satin canopy. 
 This was on Friday; on Saturday they were married. 
 The Duchess is dying, if not dead. She sent for the 
 Herald at Arms, and desired she might be buried like 
 King James's daughter, and laid near the Queen. There 
 is no repeating the extravagance of her pride. I wish the 
 young people may be happy, but never was made so 
 strange a match in so strange a fashion, and I fear their 
 circumstances will be nothing extraordinary. She says 
 she has settled four thousand a year on them, but I 
 doubt it will prove like Don Diego's will in the Spanish 
 Curate.'' 
 
 In Burke we merely read the prosaic announcement 
 that Constantine Phipps married Lepell, eldest daughter 
 of Lord Hervey of Ickworth, in 1743. His father, by the 
 way, was not Sir Constantine Phipps, but William Phipps, 
 the Chancellor's son. 
 
 The account is continued in another hand, and ob- 
 viously at a much later date. « The lady always treated 
 her husband with extreme disdain. He was made an 
 Irish peer, Lord Mulgrave. The English peerage and 
 earldom were all bestowed by Mr. Pitt on his second son, 
 Lord Normanby's father. They have taken all the titles, 
 and put themselves in the place of the Sheffields, Earls of 
 Mulgrave and Dukes of Buckingham, with whose family 
 they have no more connection than Lord Rokeby with the 
 real Montagus. The mode of marriage was strange, but 
 not unusual in those days. The Duke of Kent, when 
 dying in 1740, sent for Lord Hardwicke (the Chancellor) 
 and told him that he had made his grand-daughter, Lady 
 Jemima Campbell, his heiress, an only daughter of the 
 third Earl Breadalbane. If by his interest with the 
 Crown he could obtain for her some of the honours of 
 
 305 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 the family, he would give her for a wife to his (Lord 
 Hardwicke's) son, born in 1720. The Chancellor laid 
 the matter before the king, who readily agreed to create 
 her Marchioness Grey and Baroness Lucas of Cradwell. 
 Lord Hardwicke then sent for his son from Cambridge, 
 and the couple were married at the Duke of Kent's bed- 
 side. He was a well-disposed youth, wholly devoted to 
 classical studies ; she was a quiet, orderly girl, and both 
 were good-tempered. They lived together to old age in 
 perfect harmony and union, and were thought a pattern 
 couple. He drew a very lover-like picture of her in the 
 Athenian Letters, written by him and his brother, Charles 
 Yorke/ 
 
 A quaint contrast to the foregoing account of alliances 
 in high life is a letter from one Rachel Crafton, a widow, 
 to her guardian, a copy of which was probably procured 
 by Mrs. Delany in her Irish days, and kept because it 
 gave so remarkable a glimpse into the bourgeois manners 
 of the times. The letter, which is marked ' very curious,' 
 is undated, and there is nothing to explain who Rachel 
 Crafton was. 
 
 ' Before I proceed further ' (it begins), ' I must humbly 
 beg this the favour of you not to put any false construc- 
 tion upon these lines, that it is out of wantonness or 
 folly that I presume to give you this trouble, for it is 
 only to let you see that I do not designe to dispose of 
 myself, or anything of value belonging to me, without 
 your consent or approbation ; for I know you were 
 placed in my unkle's stead, which makes me appeal to 
 you, for you are all one as a Father to me, in not letting 
 me be cast away, nor yet to Tye me up so sore against 
 my will, which makes me bold to acquaint you with 
 what I am informed, and what I am inclined unto, 
 306 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 provided you are content. But if soe be that my 
 judgment may fail, I will be willing to submit to you 
 In hopes you may propose perhaps better for me than I 
 can for myself. And now I propose to begin as followeth, 
 which is that I have been told that you was pleased several 
 times to encourage Mr. Tracey to court me for his wife, 
 and that you proferred to give an hundred pounds with 
 me, on my unkle\s account, which is as I understand 
 allowed you by my unkle's orders in case I marry, which 
 I presume I will be driven to at last, for I am very 
 desolate, having no near friend to take care of me, as 
 a loving Husband would doe, especially when I am sick ; 
 nor am I able to keep a servant as I am, but if I was a 
 helpmeet perhaps between us we might be able to live in 
 a house of our own, and not be tost from one place to 
 another as I have been, like a tennis-ball ; nor can I 
 promise to myselfe to be kept out of the lash of Tongues, 
 let me carry as I can, nor does any regard a lonesome 
 woman, but strives to put their foot on their necks, as 
 I too well have found this many a day, which makes me 
 Court a married Life once more. But as for Mr. Tracey, 
 I hope, dear Sir, you will not impose on me to marry 
 him, not that I find any fault with the man's person or 
 his age, but I am informed if I marry him I shall live but 
 a slaverish life, for he lives much after the Irish way, and 
 has a great house of Irishes about him, and I doe not 
 covet being a step-mother. Besides, the man is, as I am 
 informed by my friend Mr. Lawson, full of infirmities, 
 and he says he would not have me concern myself with 
 him. And besides, I have a reason best known to God 
 and myself, that I am sure if my unkle knew of it, he 
 would not let me have him, as I hope you will not, having 
 been the cause of his pretending to me, for I am sure he 
 
 307 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 intends to come if he be not stoped, and to marry me, 
 and take me away before May, for he and all his friends 
 sayd as much before my face on the day graney Dalmar 
 was buryed, but I held my tongue, and neither sayd for 
 it or against it. 
 
 ' And now I have done, and I hope you will put him off 
 his designe by sending him word not to Trouble himselfe 
 to come on any such account. For you cannot persuade 
 me to like him, nor can you force me, nor can you tell 
 what is the reason you may, for I never will be his wife 
 unless you compel me to it, which I hope you never will, 
 for fear it should prove a cross to me as my first marriage 
 did. But if you would be pleased to make the like pro- 
 posal to Dr. Fairservice or Mr. Wheelwright as you did 
 to Samson Tracey, which you think would prove the best 
 husband, I could be content (I will not lye) to lead my 
 life with either of them which is my lot, for I presume to 
 think one of them will fall to my lot. As for the Doctor, 
 if he be not too young, and if you and he could agree 
 upon the matter, I presume we might do well enough, 
 for I would, I think, be a means to bring him out of the 
 idle way of spending and drinking, as he does for want of 
 one to take motherly care of him, and he might follow 
 his calling, and settle in the place, and keep an apothe- 
 cary's shop. But I would have you make the bargain so 
 that I might have liberty to have about forty pounds of 
 my portion at my own disposal, and he the other sixty to 
 manage as he sees fitt. And I with my share would buy 
 some grocery goods and put them in a shop, and turn my 
 hand and bring in some gain to us both ; and I would 
 buy two or three milch cows, and keep a good servant, 
 and follow some housewifery ; and so I propose, with his 
 practice, we might live comfortably enough together. 
 308 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 I do not know but if you please to give him encourage- 
 ment but it may do; but if this do not please you, I 
 hope Mr. Wheelwright may, and he may follow his trade, 
 and you may divide my portion the same way with him, 
 and I follow the same course as with the other. But if 
 you know of a better match than one of them two, I hope 
 you will help me to it. I hope you will consider of what 
 I have said before the month of May be out, for I pre- 
 sume it will be a fitt time for us to go together, for then 
 is the time to take servants and buy milch cows ; and if 
 you please in the meantime to speak to either of them I 
 have named, what bargain you make I will stand to with 
 any but Tracey ; I cannot here of that with satisfaction. 
 I pray goodness you may not expose my designe to any 
 but yourselfe; and the Lord put it into your mind to 
 doe for me as if I was your own child. So hoping you 
 will not be offended, but when you see your own time 
 will wright to me two or three times to let me know your 
 pleasure, and how you like my proposall, for I would not 
 have you speake to me before any one, is the humble 
 request of, Sir, your most obedient servant at your com- 
 mand. Pray pardon my boldness, and do not be offended 
 at me for what I have written. 
 
 ' Dear Sir, I will never hide the truth from you, if it 
 were God's will, as perhaps it may, and your pleasure, I 
 would rather lead my life with the Doctor than with any 
 man liveing, and have been of that mind ever since Mr. 
 K. when alive made a proposall with him, because he has 
 a genteel calling, and may be useful to the town and 
 county, and I am sure carefull of me in time of sickness, 
 and he may become a good man and a credit to my 
 Family ; and I hope you will be the same to him as your 
 Father-in-law promised to be, if it be our luck to goe 
 
 309 
 
MRS. DELANY 
 
 together. And Mr. Lawson and Mr. Aston has good 
 hopes of him, and I hope you will have the same ; in all 
 from R. C. 
 
 ' Dear Sir, if it should be your pleasure to speak to the 
 Doctor about me, pray do not let him know that I spoke 
 to you, but that you spoke of your own accord, and that 
 you believe it may do well, and that you will persuade 
 me to it, for you may say that you are sure I will be 
 directed by you sooner to take him than Tracey, is the 
 desire of your once more humble servant, 
 
 'Rachel Crafton. 1 
 
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