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MEMOIRS OP THE
COURT AND TIMES
OP
KING GEORGE THE SECOND,
AND
HIS CONSOET QUEEN CAROLINE,
INCLUDING
NUMEROUS PRIVATE LETTERS OF THE MOST CELEBRATED
PERSONS OF THE TIME ADDRESSED TO THE
VISCOUNTESS SUNDON,
MISTEESS OE THE EOBBS TO THE QUEEN, AND
HEE CONEIDENTIAI, ADVISEE,
EXHIBITING MUCH OF THB
SECRET, POLITICAL, RELIGIOUS, AND LITERARY HISTORY,
AND A TAEIETY 01? PAETICULAES NOT MENTIONED
BT OTTB HISTOEIANS.
fiolD tixst puiliilft'O from ti)e ffitrigtnalsi

MRS. THOMSON,
JlUTHOB OF "THE LIFE OF THE DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH,"
"memoirs of the court of henry viii." EIC.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. IL
LONDON :
HENEY COLBUEN, PUBLISHEE,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1850,

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CONTENTS OP
THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAPTER I.
Kobert Clayton, Bishop of Clogher — His generosity — Obtains
the notice of the Queen — Is preferred to the Bishopric of
Killala — His works — ^Essay on Spirit said to be not writ
ten by hira — His reply to Lord Bolingbroke — Endeavours
to omit the Athanasian and Nicene Creeds from the Church
Service — 'Wortley Montagu undertakes, at his suggestion,
a mission to the coast of Arabia — The Bishop's notions of
ecclesiastical preferment in a letter to Mrs. Clayton — Ee-
commends to her a son of the Marquis of Abercorn —
Honour paid to the Bishop on his approach to his diocese —
He employs the people in planting and making improve
ments — He is considered by Mrs. Clayton too favourabl6
to Charles the First in one of his sermons — ^Abolition of
the Sacramental Test opposed by the Bishops of Iceland —
Mr. Carey, the Irish Secretary — Parties in Ireland — A
Bishop's sermon improved by Mrs. Clayton — The Duke of
Dorset — Lord Carteret  p. 1
CHAPTER n.
The Queen's chairman accused of having an understanding
vrith highwaymen — Interest made with the Queen for
him — His discharge insisted on by Lord Pomfret — Lady
Pomfret's Private interview vrith the Queen — ^A Manoeuvre
— A Court lady in a dangerous path — ^Vertue, the Engraver
— The Court stationary — A nonjuring Dean — His opinion
of the Princess of Wales — Decoration of her apartments at

IV CONTENTS.
Hampton Court— Sir James ThornhiU— Subjects for paint
ing — Letter from Henrietta, Duchess of Marlborough —
Her attachment to Congreve — His bequest to her —
Voltaire's opinion of his works — Svrift's lines upon him —
Grief of the Duchess, on his death — Reports to Mrs.
Clayton's prejudice confuted — Swift's discreditable conduct
—His letter to Lady Suifolk— Mrs. Barber and her poems
— Lady Russell's opinion of the Bath waters and doctors
— Swift and Booby Bettes worth— Dr. Delany — His recom
mendation of Mrs. Barber — Account of Dr. Delany . 37
CHAPTER in.
State of parties in Ireland — The Bishop of Killala exercises
his influence in Dublin in favour of the Court — His descrip
tion of the Duke and Duchess of Dorset — Obsequiousness
of the Bishop — Baron Wainwright, and the vacancy in the
Common Pleas — Mrs. Clayton's criticism invited by the
Bishop of Killala — Baron Wainwright, and his verses —
Lord William Beauclero — Observations on a recent
pamphlet — Three letters to the Bishop of Lichfield —
Ramsay's plan of education — The Excise — The people of
Bristol and the Administration  79
CHAPTER IV.
Dr. Friend — Manufactures in metals — A reverend Consul —
Standing forces — Dr. Clarke's new house at Winchester
— Lord Lymington — Lord Drumlanrig — Mask from the
face of Henry the Seventh — Dr. Friend's dedication — ^A
new poem by Stephen Duck — Controversy of Drs. Water-
land and Pearse — Dr. Middleton — Manderille's Book of
Honour— Hogarth — Dr. Clarke's verses on the Queen's
Hermitage — ^Bacon on Gardens — ^Alarming illness of Dr.
Clarke — Lord and Lady Lymington's considerate conduct
towards him — Lord John Russell's duel — ^Dr. Clarke's
opinion of duelling — Extraordinary case of murder and
suicide — Book on the genuineness of St. Matthew's Gos
pel — Discovery of a medicinal spring  99

CONTENTS. V
CHAPTER V.
Mrs. Clayton consulted on every subject — Dr. Bentley, Master
of Trinity College, Cambridge — His controversies with Dr.
Clarke before the Queen — His character in the Dunciad —
His cause — St. Matthew's Gospel — Character of William
the Third — Mavrocordatus, Prince of Wallachia — The
famous drop — ^Dr. Clarke summoned to a Chapter of West
minster — Excuses his attendance — Dr. Waterland's Charge
— Modem Deists, and advocates for Deism — ^Passage in the
London Journal complimentary to Queen Caroline — Dr.
Clarice's "EgTfepinron"bf Mfs. Clayton's" friendship — Good
sentiments in great people — Dr. Friend at Sundon — Will of
the late Duke of Wharton — ^An uncommon Sermon 125
CHAPTER VI.
Mr. Hamilton's acknowledgments — Doings in Dublin Uni
versity — ^A College fight-^Conflict of the watch with the
students — One of the scholars taken up for murder — Mrs.
Clayton solicited to use her influence to save him from
being hanged—Swift on the state of Ireland — Influential
men in Ireland — The Bishop of Killala thanks Mrs. Clayton
for mentioning his name to the Queen — His obsequious
ness — ^Different conduct of Bishop Atterbury — The Bishop
of Killala's description of the Duke of Dorset as Viceroy
of Ireland — His Duchess — ^Members of the Irish House of
Commons — Mr. Carey, the Irish Secretary — Lord Percival
and his son — ^Irish parties and politics — The Opposition
resolve to address the King — The Bisho^'s^jpUtical ser
vices at this period  145
CHAPTER vn.
Judge Wainwright an advocate for Dean Berkeley — ^Berke
ley's work onlmmaterialism — His philosophical opinions —
Proceeds to Italy, as Chaplain to the Earl of Peterborough—
His alarm at Leghorn — ^Visits PSre Malebranche — Re
turns to Ireland with the Duke of Grafton — Vanessa's .fee-

VI CONTENTS.
quest to him — Proceeds to Bermuda on a mission to con
vert the heathen — Its failure — Returns to England— His
work, " The Minute Philosopher"— Attracts the notice of
Queen Caroline— Is promoted to the Bishopric of Cloyne
His conscientious scruples — His last days — His amiable
character — Baron Wainwright's verses— Berkeley's Ser
mon before the Society for Propagating the Gospel
Berkeley represented to be insane — Impartiality of Baron
Wainwright— Death of the Dean of Christ Church, Ox
ford — Baron Wainwright's suggestion to fill up the va
cancy — Marriage of the Prince of Orange — Dr. Robert
Friend— Repeal of the Test Act— Factions in Ireland 163
CHAPTER VIII.
Bishop Hoadley's opinion of Mrs. Clayton — His remarks on
political controversies — Pope's Essay on Man — The Bishop
of Gloucester— Dr. Alured Clarke's opinion of the Essay on
Man — The Emperor Vespasian, a patron of men of letters
— The people of England and the Excise — The Bishop of
Killala and the Irish Secretary — An useful piece of advice
— A courtier ill rewarded — His desire to be promoted to
the Bishopric of Meath — Another specimen of the Bishop's
subserviency  189
CHAPTER IX.
Somerville's complimentary letter to Mrs. Clayton, with acopy
of " The Chase" — His opinion of hunting — Desires the
patronage ofthe Prince of Wales — Somerville's birth-place
— The Poet a specimen of the country gentleman — Lord
Somerville — The Chase — The Queen's letter to the Duchess
of Orleans — Royal gardens in France compared with those
in England — Popularity of Dr. Friend — Mrs. Montague's
description of PSre Courayer — His speech to the Assembly
of Protestant Divines — Dr. Seeker's Sermon — Dr. Winter,
of Bath, attempts self-destruction — Baron Wainvnright and
his friends in Ireland — Lord Hervey, a favourite at Court
— The Duke of Grafton his rival — His literary talent — His

CONTENTS. VII
t
son marries Miss Chudleigh — Hervey, Bishop of Derry —
The Koyal Circle at Hampton Court — Lord Hervey's new
view of locomotion-proceedings at Hampton Court- A
martyr to a Court— Anight in a Palace— Stanislaus chosen
King of Poland — ^Lady Chesterfield's match . . . 205
CHAPTER X.
Savage, the poet — A natural son of the Countess of Maccles
field— His early life — His story told by Dr. Johnson — He
kills a man in a tavern brawl — Lord Tyrconnel begs the
intercession of the Queen in his favour — Letter from Lord
Tyrconnel to Mrs. Clayton, soliciting for him the ofiice of
Poet-Laureate — His poem, "The Bastard" — His excesses
— His death — Mrs. E. Carter's opinion of him — Smollett's
character of Sir William Yonge — The Lord Chancellor's
preferments  235
CHAPTER XI.
Honourable Thomas Townshend — His prospects of success
described by him to Mrs. Clayton — ^The University of
Dublin — Return of the Princess Royal to Kensington
— The Indians in London — Their reception by the King
and Queen, the Prince of Wales, and the Princesses
— The Bishop of Salisbury — The King's generosity to
Lord Hervey — ^An important omission — Mr. Carey's extra
ordinary escape — Excessive bigotry — Dr. Clarke's Remarks
on Thomson's Poem on Liberty — A quotation from it —
Mrs. Clayton's taste appealed to by Somerville — Bubb
Doddington in Ireland — Heads of our Kings . . . 253
CHAPTER XIL
Frederick, Prince of Wales — ^William, Duke of Cumberland
— The Princess Anne — Married to the Prince of Orange —
The Princesses Amelia and Louisa — Mrs. Clayton's hus
band created Viscount Sundon — Bishop Hoadley congra
tulates Lady Sundon on her title — Character of Lord
Sundon — Bon-mot of Bubb Doddington respecting him —

Vlll CONTENTS.
Queen Caroline's respect for Sir Isaac Newton — Patronizes
his daughter, Mrs. Conduit — She solicits the place of
Dresser to the Princess Royal for Sir Isaac's niece, Mrs.
Burr — The Court at Kensington — Court gossip — Bishop
Clayton' on green usquebaugh — Entertains the Lord
Lieutenant — State of the South of Ireland in 1736 —
Further preferment of Dr. Clayton — His works . . 283
CHAPTER XIIL
Mrs. Clayton's family connected with the nobility — This
acknowledged by Viscountess Windsor and the Earl of
Sussex — The Court ladies at Tunbridge Wells — Duk
and Duchess of Marlborough — Court news — Mr. Che-
nevix's proposal — Marriage of the Princess Anne to
the Prince of Orange — Public entry of the Prince and
Princess into Harlingen — Court ceremonies in Holland —
The Princess's ladies — Arrangements of the household —
A little dissatisfaction — An adventure in Holland —
Mrs. Clayton reconciled to Mr. Chenevix — Mean figure
made by the Court of Spain  307
CHAPTER XIV.
A Lord Lieutenant of Ireland negotiating a marriage — Mrs.
Strangways Horner's travels to the German Spa — Dr.Boer-
haave's opinion of a fine lady's malady — Singular matri
monial negotiations on the part of the Duke of Dorset 
The characteristic letters of Mrs. Strangways Horner 
Marriage of Miss Horner to the Earl of Ilchester 
The Countess of Oxford, on behalf of the Countess of Kin-
noul— Lady Kinnoul stating her own case — The Countess
of Pomfret-Lady Oxford and Sir Robert Walpole— The
Duchess of Bolton's opinion of Lady Sundon— Retirement
of Lady Suifolk from Court— Death of the Queen— Re
tirement of Lady Sundon— The apparent neglect of her
correspondents— Deaths of Lord and Lady Sundon . 341

MEMOIRS AND COREESPONDENCE

LADY SUNDON.

CHAPTER I.
Robert Clayton, Bishop of Clogher — His generosity — Obtains
the notice of the Queen — Is preferred to the Bishopric of
Killala — His works — Essay on Spirit said to be not writ
ten by him — His reply to Lord Bolingbroke — ^Endeavours
to omit the Athanasian and Nicene Creeds from the Church
Service — Wortley Montagu undertakes, at his suggestion,
a mission to the coast of Arabia — The Bishop's notions of
ecclesiastical preferment in a letter to Mrs. Clayton — Re
commends to her a son of the Marquis of Abercorn —
Honour paid to the Bishop on his approach to his diocese —
He employs the people in planting and making improve
ments — He is considered by Mrs. Clayton too favourable
to Charles the First in one of his sermons — Abolition of
the Sacramental Test opposed by the Bishops of Ireland —
Mr. Carey, the Irish Secretary — Parties in Ireland — A
Bishop's sermon improved by Mrs. Clayton — The Duke of
Dorset — Lord Carteret.

VOL. II.

CHAPTER I.
A SINGULAR contrast to some of Mrs. Clayton's
correspondents is presented by another of her
warmest votaries. This was the celebrated Robert
Clayton, Bishop of Clogher, a relative of Mr.
Clayton's, and a friend of Bishop Hoadley's.
Descended from the Claytons of Fulwood, in
Lancashire, Dr. Clayton was, nevertheless, a native
of Ireland, his father being Dean of Kildare.
His character was remarkable for liberality in
money matters ; having married the daughter of
Chief Justice DonneUan, he gave that lady's por
tion to her sister ; and settled on his own three
sisters double the sum which was bequeathed to
them by theu" father's will. Such was his gene
rosity, that upon a person in distressed cu'cum
stances applying to him for relief, he gave him
300Z., which was all the object of his bounty
required to make him comfortable for life.
This act came to the knowledge of Queen
Caroline, through the intervention of Dr. Samuel
b2

4 MEMOIRS OF
Clarke. It also produced an acquaintance with
Dr. Clarke, and the consequence was, the conver
sion of Dr. Clayton to the Arian principles enter
tained by that divine. These were no obstruc
tions to the favom- either of Caroline, or of her
favourite, and he was immediately introduced to
Lord Carteret, then Lord Lieutenant in Ireland,
and his name specified for the very first vacant
bishopric. He was therefore preferred in 1729-30,
to the bishopric of Killala, contrary to the vdshes
of Archbishop Boulter, then Primate of Ireland,
who would have preferred having so young a man
placed in a less important diocese; but female
influence, urged on by the all-powerful Dr. Samuel
Clarke, was unconquerable.
From the letters of Bishop Clayton he was, it
appears, by no means as indifferent to his worldly
interests, as his early life seemed to promise ; and
it is with a feeling of something like disgust that
we view his endeavours to obtain preferment by
the crooked arts of political subserviency, and
read his fulsome compliments to his patroness,
Mrs. Clayton, or con over his recommendations
that the patronage of the church should be ex
tended to persons of birth and fortune, in order to
strengthen the Court party. But, whilst we thus
condemn Dr. Clayton, upon his own showing, it

LADY SUNDON. 5
is but just to give the portraiture of him which
has been drawn by contemporary wiiters.
In person he was well adapted to charm in
society, and to win his way at Court. Coramand
ing in his deportment, although not tall, with
dark piercing eyes, a clear complexion, and
symmetrical features, he united the dignity of
the ecclesiastic to the ease of the fine gentle
man. He was polite and cheerful, and his
address was at once frank and conciliating. Such
were his merits as a companion ; of his great
erudition, he gave proofs to the world, on which
we shall hereafter enlarge. As a preacher he was
plain, practical, and forcible. Throughout his
household a peculiar elegance prevailed ; and his
table was maintained with a munificence due to
his rank ; yet he was himself singularly tempe
rate. His favourite diversion was that of angling,
so suitable to a contemplative man ; yet in all the
busiest season of his life. Dr. Clayton found time
for study, ¦ rising at five o'clock every moming.
To the accomplishments and virtues of a private
individual, the Bishop added the charities of a
saint. His beneficence was largely extended, and
exercised without ostentation.
During many years after his preferment, the
character of this prelate as a scholar was lost in

6 MEMOIRS OF
that of a fine gentleman ; and so mean an opinion
was entertained of his learning that when his
first work was published it was not believed to be
his own. He is said to have been one of the few
instances of a man becoming better for his ex
altation. His first work was, an " Introduction to
the History of the Jews ; " his second, " The
Chronology of the Hebrew Bible Vindicated,"
published in 1 749, nearly twenty years after his
preferment to the see of Killala. " The Disserta
tion on Prophecy," and the " Impartial Inquiry
into the Time of the Coming of the MessiaJi"
succeeded these, and were written with much
candoui- and learning. But the work which ex
cited the most extraordinary attention was, an
"Essay on Spirit, wherein the Doctrine of the
Trinity is considered in the light of Reason and
Nature, as well as in the light in which it was
held by the ancient Hebrews, compared with the
Doctiine of the Old and New Testament ; with an
Inquiiy into the Sentiments of the Primitive
Fathers of the Church, and the Doctrine of the
Trinity, as maintained by the Egyptians, Pytha
goreans, and Platonists ; together with some re
marks on the Athanasian and Nicene Creeds,
&c." In this work, singularly audacious in its specu-

LADY SUNDON. 7
lations, the author, after beginning with a series
of metaphysical observations, (" Tlie Moral Will
o' the Wisp to the Theological Inquirer") pro
ceeds to assert the Inferiority of the Son of God,
and of the Spirit, to the Father. The work was
dedicated to the Lord Primate of Ireland, Dr.
George Stone, and the subject of Subscription
was considered in the dedication; treating the
Articles of Religion merely as Articles of Peace.
It is a curious fact,* that Dr. Clayton was only
the adopted father of the " Essay on Spirit." It
was, in truth, written by a young clergyman in
his diocese, who dared not to give it to the world
except under the sanction of the Bishop's dedica
tion and the indirect protection afforded by its
passing through the hands of Dr. Clayton to the
press ; it was, however, never distinctly acknow
ledged by the Bishop, but was always considered
as his work. And a controversy, fruitful beyond
all recent precedent, in works, was the result of
the publication.
The labours of Dr. Clayton were afterwards
more worthily directed ; first, in replying to the
errors and misstatements of Lord Bolingbroke, in
a work entitled " Vindication of the Histories of
* Stated distinctly in the Biographia Britannica, Art.
Clayton.

8 MEMOIRS OF
the Old and New Testament," in answer to the
objections of the late Lord Bolingbroke; and,
secondly, in a laudable but vain attempt to recover
the ancient Hebrew character, by sending a per
son to reside among the Arabs at Tor, on the
coast of the Red Sea, so as to have intercourse
with the Arabs who were living near the Written
Mountains, situated in the Wilderness of Sinai,
on which the ancient character was said to have
been inscribed. Being unable to find any person
willing, or competent to undertake this mission.
Dr.: Clayton was contented to draw the attention
of travellers to the Written Mountains ; and the
eccentric Edward Wortley Montague made a
journey from Cairo to the Desert of Sinai for the
purpose . of discovering the character. He found
it, however, interspersed with figures of men and
beasts, which convinced him that they were not
written by the Israelites.* Nor have the investi
gations of recent travellers proved more suc
cessful. The first letter from Dr. Clayton is explanatory
of his notions of the right direction of church
preferment. * Biographia, Art. Clayton ; from Monthly Review, vol.
xxxvii. p. 380.

LADY SUNDON. 9
THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, March 19, 1730.
Madam,
Though I have nothing particular to write to
you about at present, yet I cannot help laying
hold of this opportunity of sending you a letter
by the hands of the Rev. Mr. Hamilton, a son of
the Earl of Abercorn's, who is going over to pay
his last duty to his father, who it is thought can
not live long ; I find both my understanding and
my pride affected with too forcible a pleasure, to
be very retentive of my pen, whenever I can find
the least pretence for troubling Mrs. Clayton with
a letter, and hope you will excuse me, whenever
anything offers that I think may be of ser\ice to
their Majesties, in giving you my sentiments upon
it. What occurs to me at present, is, the con
sidering of ecclesiastical preferments, in a political
view. It has not been customary for persons
either of birth or fortune, to breed up their chil
dren to the church, by which means, when pre
ferment in the church is given by their Majesties,
there is seldom any one obliged but the very
person to whom it is given, having no near rela
tions either in the House of Lords or Commons
that are gratified or kept in dependence thereby.
The only way to remedy which is, by giving ex
traordinary encouragements to persons of bii"th
and interest whenever they seek for ecclesiastical

10 MEMOIRS OF
preferment, which will encourage others of the
same quality to come into the church, and may
thereby render ecclesiastical preferments of the
same use to their Majesties with civil employ
ments. I know it will be natural for Mrs. Clayton upon
the reading of this, and recollecting that I have
mentioned my sending this letter by the hands of
a nobleman's son, to conclude, that I have been
solicited to write to you in his favour, whereas
give me leave to assm'e you, that I have not been
so much as asked either by him or his friends, to
write to you about him. And I will add, that no
solicitations whatsoever, shall prevail with me to
recommend anybody to you ; whatever I do of
that nature, shall be entirely voluntary, and pro
ceed from the sole conviction of my own mind, as
I assure you this does at present, having no other
motive for what I say but the real merit of the
young gentleman who carries this letter, and the
opinion that I have, that the taking notice of him
and others of his condition, may be of real service
to their Majesties. As to himself, he knows no
thmg of the purport of this letter, not even that I
intend to write to you, and I design to give it to
him, only to leave it at your door as a common
letter of compliment, and to desire him to call
there in two or three days afterwards to know if
you have any commands to send for Ireland, that
you may be entirely at liberty whether you will
take any notice of him at all. I appeal to that

LADY SUNDON. 11
zealous warmth which you have always exerted
for your fiiends, not to plead my excuse, but to
stand in my defence for the trouble which I have
given you of this letter, who am always proud of
subscribing myself. Madam,
Your most obliged, and
Obedient humble servant,
Rt. Killala.
It was one of the evils of the Irish govenmient,
in the reign of George the Second, that the heads
of the church were the leaders of party. The
primate, B oulter, held the following maxim : " The
bishops," he observes, in one of his letters, " are
the persons on whom the govemment must depend
for doing the public business."* It was another
of his errors, to place the Iiish mitres on none
but English heads, to strengthen the English
interest. THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
DubUn, April 30, 1730.
Madam,
I can defer no longer giving myself the plea
sure of writing to you, this being the only way
now left of supplying the want of that entertain
ing and instructive conversation with which I
* Lord Mahon's History of England, vol. iv., p. 190.

12 MEMOIRS OF
have been so often delighted when in company
with Mrs; Clayton. The concern which you have
so warmly showed for my welfare and success in
the world, makes me vain enough to think that
an accoimt of my safe arrival in this kingdom
would not be entirely disagreeable. In my passage
through Lancashire, I was received in all the
towns through which I passed, with the ringing of
bells, I suppose on account of the honours which
his Majesty has been pleased to bestow upon me,
and the public marks of favour which Mrs. Clay
ton has been pleased to show me.
When I came to the water-side, I was obliged
to wait there a few days for the arrival of Lord
Carteret,* having obtained an order for the King's
yacht that brought his Lordship over, to carry me
back again. On his coming on shore, I returned
him thanks for his recommendation from Ireland ;
he seemed in high spirits, and was pleased with
his success in that kingdom, and inquired instantly
for your health. On my arrival here on Monday
morning last, I searched for the remainder of those
drawings which you was pleased to present to her
Majesty, and find that I have six more which I
had not put into frames, but were lying in a
drawer that could not be opened in my absence ;
I shall take care to send them to you by the first
safe hand: not that I think they are presents
worth being made either to her Majesty or you,
* Afterwards Earl Granville.

LADY SUNDON. 13
but send them as the pepper-corns of my grati
tude, the memorials of my thankfulness, the marks
or tokens of my remembrance, or whatever else
may serve to denote the small representatives of
a large and grateful heart.
I beg, when you have an opportunity of men
tioning my name to her Majesty, that you will be
so kind as to assm'e her of my duty, which is a
commission that I am the readier to trouble you
with, because that I know that my performance
thereof is the only retm-n that will be accept
able to Mrs. Clayton for the many favom-s con
ferred on Your most obliged.
And obedient humble servant,
Rt. Killala.
My wife desires that I would likewise assure
you of her most grateftil acknowledgments.
The next letter breathes more of the pastoral
and less of the worldly spiiit, than its prede
cessor. THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, Dec. 2, 1730.
Madam,
It is a long time since I have done myself
the pleasure of writing to you, for though I would
by no means be thought capable of forgetting the
many obligations that I lie under to Mrs, Clayton,

14 memoirs OF
yet I am afraid at the same time of proving
oflSciously impertinent. I have been for four
months past at Killala, which is a very delightful
spot, and where I have laid out large improve
ments, in order to employ the poor of that place
both young and old, in hedging or ditching,, or
planting or gardening, according to their differ
ent ages or abiUties ; which I can't help think
ing is the properest and best way of laying out
money in charity. It \vill be my fault if it be not
made a most delightftil place, nature having suffi
ciently done her part ; and I beg, that whenever
you have an opportunity of mentioning my name
to her Majesty, that you will let her know how
happy she has made me, and that ingratitude in
me would be double ingratitude.
I have begun an enclosm'c of two hundred
acres of ground, which is now dividing into walks,
one of which is to go entirely round the whole
improvement, and goes for near half a mile toge
ther by the side of a fine lake ; the rest are to
divide the gi-ound into separate parks, as they
will lie most beautifully or most conveniently. I
mention this to show you how much I am pleased
with that lot which I owe to Mrs. Clayton's inter
cession, and that if ever it lies in my power to be
of service to their Majesties, that it may be thought
the effort of that gratitude which I owe for favours
already received, and not to the expectation of
future ones. I am very sensible that I have no
other method of obtaining the obligations which

LADY SUNDON. 15
I have received fi-om you, but by studying their
Majesties' service, I should look upon it therefore
as a particular happiness to receive your orders,
and you may depend upon their being obeyed to
the utmost of my abilities. I should be glad to
know if there is anything that I can inform you
of on this side the water. If their Majesties'
affairs should require an additional loan of 50,000/.
it will be no difficult matter to obtain it next
sessions. I am afraid of tiring you, and yet I know not
how to leave off, the many delightful hours that I
have spent in Mrs. Clayton's improving conver
sation, makes me willing to indulge my imagina
tion with the honour of writing to you. My wife
desires that whenever I write to you, I may always
present her most grateful acknowledgments along
with those of Madam,
Your most obliged,
And obedient humble servant,
Rt. Killala.
How great a stumbling block to divines has the
martyrdom of King Charles the First ever been.
Dr. Clayton does not seem to have risen superior
to the difficulty. It would be amusing, if it were
not so discreditable, to find a learned Prelate ob
liged to apologize to a Woman of the Bedchamber
for sundry passages in his sermon.

16 memoirs of

bishop of killala to mrs. clayton.
Madam, Though you have conferred many and gi'eat
obligations upon me, yet there are none of them
that have given me greater pleasure than the
receipt of your last letter, as it contains, not only
expressions of great kindness, but as it is filled
with continued proofs of that sincerity of heart
which alone renders friendship valuable. As to
that part of yom* letter which related to the
bishopric, I am much obliged to you for it, and
am very sensible of the truth of it. But give me
leave, at the same time, to assure you, that the
reason of my sending you this letter was, because
I thought there could be no inconveniency in in
forming you of that affair, being convinced that
your good understanding would not permit you
to do anything that was improper. I am apt to
write to jNIrs. Clayton, as she has heai-d me speak,
with imprudence perhaps, but without disguise,
trusting to the soundness of my heart, which
means only to be governed by your advice, as a
man perfectly happy and contented, and thankful
for his present lot, yet that would not omit a
proper opportunity of pursuing reasonable means
for raising himself in the world.
Mrs. Clayton, however, kept her satellites in
some awe. She had not, it appears, approved

LADY SUNDON. 17
of the worthy divine's too lenient expressions
towards the martyr. A sort of apology ensues :
As to my sermon, I am infinitely obliged to you
for your kind reception of it, and the just remarks
which you were so good as to make upon it, in
which the only fault I find is, that you have
looked it over with too benevolent an eye. What
you say in yom* letter about my being too favour
able to King Charles the First, is certainly true ;
but my reasons for doing so were these — First,
the subject of the day, which obliged me rather to
vindicate than criminate, so that I thought it my
duty to say nothing but the truth, though I was
not under an obligation to say the whole truth.
However, I have added a sentence that will mend
this matter a little. Secondly, because there are
a great many things which would become one
who was always a Whig that would not become
the mouth of one who was bred a Tory ; and
whatever my thoughts are, I apprehend it to be
more prudent to restrain them for some time,
than to declare myself too violently on a sudden,
where such declaration would not be of any ser
vice to their Majesties.
The world, and the fear of Mrs. Clayton, re
turn upon him. Parties were, at this time, greatly
agitated concerning the abolition of the Sacra
mental Test.
VOL. II. c

18 memoirs of
Madam,
Since I wrote the foregoing part of this letter,
I had the honour of receiving yours of the 20th
instant, and am exceedingly concerned that it did
not come sooner. The taking off the Sacra
mental Test has been a subject of discourse here
for some time, and there has been a pampUet
published on that subject, which has given gi-eat
offence, and occasioned a meeting of some of the
bishops and clergy to know one another's opi
nions upon that head. The words in the pamphlet,
which were mostly taken notice of, were these: —
"But if the ecclesiastical hierarchy, the supe
riority of bishops and presbyters, the jurisdiction
of the spiritual courts, the vestments and holi
days, the forms of prayer contained in the
Liturgy, the sign of the Cross in baptism, and
kneeling at receiving the Sacrament of the
Lord's Supper, — if these, and such as these, are
the points which the Sacramental Test can only
be supposed to secure, the question is, of what
moment they are in the Christian religion, or to
the designs of the gospel."
This was so public a declaration of war against
the bench of bishops in particular, and the whole
ecclesiastical constitution in general, that you will
not wonder if they were alarmed, and unani
mously declared it necessary to preserve their
outworks, when the enemy had so openly pro
fessed that they only wanted to remove the out
work, in order to make a stroke at the capital. As

LADY SUNDON. 19
I was one of the number then present, and de
clared my opinion fully at that time, you see
the difficulties which I am under; you see the
battle betwixt honour and gratitude. I could
easily reconcile them both, in some small degree,
by making an excuse to stay away fr-om the
House, if it should come there to a debate, could
I as easily reconcile myself to myself for obeying
Mrs. Clayton's commands by halves ! You see
the state of the affair, and I leave it to you to
determine for me. If you think it of moment
enough, that under these circumstances, I should
yet appear for it, let me but receive your com
mands, and depend upon being punctually
obeyed. It will not come on speedily, so that
I shall have time to hear from you ; for we do not
meet till the 3rd of February, then we shall have
a week's adjournment at the least.
Was my natiure capable of prevarication, I
might in this letter have promised you, at once,
to have complied with your commands, since the
odds are infinitely great that it never will come to
a division in the House of Lords. It is an affair
that has been talked of here for some time, and
has made a great deal of noise ; and if it should
be tacked in England to one of the Popery Bills,
it will certainly be flung out in the House of
Commons, or dropped in the House of Lords,
without a division. Every Lord that I have yet
heard speak of it, except the Bishop of Dublin,
having openly declared against it ; and the Lord
c 2

20

memoirs of

Primate declared to several of the bishops, in my
hearing, that the Duke of Dorset* has wrote earn
estly to England to prevent its coming over.
It has hitherto been very imprudently con
ducted, and I cannot help being surprised that
those in England, who seem mostly concerned in
this affair, did not consult you sooner about it ;
because you may believe me, by the sincerity
which I use in this letter, that had I known it
time enough to have been an affair which Mrs.
Clayton had at heart, I should readily have gone
in with it ; and I must beg for the future, that
when you have any commands for me, that you
will give me as early notice as possible. I hope
you have no reason to doubt my secrecy; and
whoever expects any fi-uit from his labours must
prepare his ground before he sows his seed. I
was not at all consulted in this affair, nor knew
anything of it, till the pamphlet above mentioned
occasioned it to be a general town talk, and had
no reason to imagine that the Court intended to
interest themselves in it at all. I hope that the
sincerity with which this letter is wrote will not
displease you, or make you think less favourably
of him who is, with the utmost gratitude.
Madam,
Your most obliged, and
Obedient humble servant,
Rt. Killala.
* The Duke was then Lord-Lieutenant.

LADY SUNDON. 21
One cannot help reading this contemptible letter
with feelings of disgust. That a bishop should
prostrate his reason and his secret sentiments
before the favourite of the Queen — that an able
and learned man should offer to forego his own
views and opinions at the mandate of a Woman of
the Bedchamber — is revolting to that deep re
verence with which one would fain regard the
minister of the gospel, whether in the plain
sm-plice of a parish priest, or in the cassock and
lawn sleeves.
In relation to the Test Act, Swift's " Reasons
for Repealing the Test Act" occur to remem-'
brance. It begins thus : —
REASONS FOR REPEALING THE TEST ACT.
1. Because the Presbyterians are people of
such great interest in this kingdom, that there
are not above ten of their persuasion in the
House of Commons, and but one in the House of
Lords, though they are not obliged to take the
Sacrament in the Established Church, to qualify
them to be members of either House.
2. Because those of the Established Church of
this kingdom are so disaffected to the King, that
not one of them worth mentioning (except the
late Duke of Ormond) who has been concerned
in the late rebellion; and that our Parliament,

22 MEMOIRS OF
though there be so few Presbyterians, has, upon
all occasions, proved its loyalty to King George,
and has readily agreed to and enacted what might
support his government.
3. Because very few of the Presbyterians have
lost an employment worth 20Z. per annum, for
not qualifying themselves according to the Test
Act ; nor vriU they accept of a militia commission,
though they do of one in the army.
4. Because, if they are not in the militia and
other places of trust, the Pretender and his ad
herents will be destroyed, when he has no one
to support him but the King of Spain, when
King George is at a good understanding with
Sweden, Prussia, and Denmark, and when he
has made the best alliances in Christendom ;
when the Emperor, King of Great Britain, the
French King, the King of Sardinia, are all in
quadruple alliance against the Spaniard, his up
start Cardinal, and the Pretender ; when bloody
designs against Great Britain and France are
blown up; when the Spanish fleet is quite dis
persed; when the French army is over-running
Spain, and when the rebels in Scotland are cut
off, &c. &c.
The parliamentary history of Ireland could
scarcely yet be said to commence. The Irish
Parliament was of little importance until 1753,
and ceased with the Union in 1800. Up to 1753,
it had never been able to muster more than

LADY SUNDON. 23
twenty-eight votes in opposition to any govern
ment; but so rapid was its rise, that, in 1754,
a borough sold for three times as much as in
1750. In Bishop Clayton's time, it seems to
have declined to a mere shadow.*
BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, Jan. 2, 1731.
Madam,
I am afraid I shall prove troublesome to you
by the number of letters which I write ; but this
being a particular season, which occasions more
transactions than usual, I hope that will make my
excuse, especially when you consider that you
are likely to have three years' respite before there
is a return of Parliament in this kingdom.
Things continue as in my last. The Duke [of
Dorset] very civil, but much more agreeable in his
private conversation than his public. The Duchess
is also of the same turn of mind, very civil and polite,
but very silent in public ; in private, she seems to
be more at ease within herself, but not much
given to unnecessary discourse. I speak not this
with any reference to myself or to my wife, to
whom both of them have showed pai-ticular marks
of distinction, but with regard to the rest of the
world ; and I think myself obliged to inform you
of everything. As to Mr. Carey, for some time
after his arrival, he was pleased to take some
* See Lord Mahon, from Lord Orford's Mem.

24 MEMOIRS OF
notice of me ; but he began soon to put on high
airs, and though he spoke to me one day, the
next day he would uot know. The creatm-e, I
suppose, is intoxicated with the name of a Secre
tary,* and was imprudent enough one day, when
he was talking to me, to call it Ms administration.
I have never spoke my mind of him to any
body, only gave a hint of his imprudent usage of
Mr. Percival to one of his fiiends ; and whether
this was the reason of his coolness to me, I can
not tell ; but sure I am, I intended it both for his
and the Duke's service. The last time I saw
him, he would hardly bow to me, though I stood
close to him, and bowed to him first. The reason
of which I suspect to be this : When the affair
of the representation was on foot, which I men
tioned to you in my long letter to you, Mr. Percival
was deeply engaged in it. However, I found means
to prevail with him and another of my friends,
who is much confided in by the country party, to
promise me to drop it, and to disconcert the
whole. Here is something like seeing behind the scenes
* " It was," says Lord Mahon, " one peculiarity of the
Irish govemment for the Lord-Lieutenant to absent himself
from his post during the second year of his vice-royalty, so
as to pocket its salary without incurring its expenses. The
choice of Secretary depended solely on the Lord-Lieutenant.
It may easily be conceived how important a post, under such
circumstances, it became." — Lord Mahon's History of Eng
land, iv. 190.

LADY SUNDON. 25
in the following description of the state of parties
and alliances.
Madam,
I did myself the honour of writing to you last
week, which letter I hope you have received, but
did not then expect to have met so soon with a
favourable opportunity of sending the drawings ;
but hearing of Mr. Meredith's going to England,
who is a gentleman both of fortune and interest in
this kingdom, I took the occasion of troubling you
with this letter. The knowledge which I have of
your indefatigable zeal for serving of your friends,
is the only apology which I shall make at present,
being fully convinced that you have more pleasure
in doing acts of generosity, than in receiving the
acknowledg-ments of them.
Since my arrival, my time has been entirely
taken up in receiving and paying of visits. I went
to pay my compliments to the Lords Justices, and
they sent the next day to know how I did. The
rest of the nobility of this city have been all to see
me. They are not ignorant of the favours which
Mrs. Clayton was pleased to show me at London.
The Lords Justices are the Lord Primate, Lord
Chancellor, and Sir Ralph Gore, Speaker of the
House of Commons. They, have all separate in
terests. The Lord Primate stands alone, having
little interest feither in this kingdom or in England,
b ut the Bishop of London. The Lord Chancel
lor's intimates are the Bishop of Dublin and Lord

26 MEMOIRS OF
Chief Justice Reynolds, but all three together have
no interest at all on this side the water; you know
where their interest lies in England. Sir Ralph
Gore is united vrith Dr. Coghill, whom I have often
mentioned to you ; the interest of this kingdom hes
in the hands of these two men ; it is they that can
either give assistance or opposition to a Lord
Lieutenant. I take the liberty of informing you
of these pai-ticulars, because I find I shaU be
courted to enter into their intimacies, on account
of the interest which they imagine I may have with
Mrs. Clayton, but intend to keep aloof and do no
thing but by your direction.
The Lord Primate and I are upon easy terms,
he has sent this day to invite me to dinner. I am
very well with the Lord Chancellor, having entered
into a kind of intimacy with him before I left this
kingdom; on my arrival I went immediately to
wait on the Archbishop of Dublin, who received
me, in his way I believe, very graciously. But
my greatest intimacy is with Dr. Coghill, which,
as he is united vrith the Speaker of the House of
Commons, I think it will be my interest to culti
vate, and that for these reasons, because the Lord
Chancellor and Bishop of Dublin have no interest
on this side of the water, and as for an English
interest, they have a very good one, yet I shall
never seek for any other than the favour and coun
tenance of Mrs. Clayton. Whereas Sir Ralph
Gore and Dr. CoghiU have an exceeding good in-

LADY SUNDON. 27
terest in this place, but little or no interest in
England, fiirther than what their influence on this
side the water necessarily gives them. I do not
mean by this as if I would break with the Lord
Chancellor, but, on the contrary, to keep well with
him and the Archbishop, and yet at the same time to
cidtivate principaUy an intimacy with the Speaker
of the House of Commons, as I shall thereby be
best enabled to be of serrice to their majesties in
this kingdom, and as he has little or no interest in
England, he will be the readier to join with me in
hopes of having the favom- of your countenance ;
if it be not too great a trouble, I should desire your
opinion of this scheme. I declined mentioning
anything to you of this nature in the letter
wliich I sent by the post ; and if you are pleased
to honour me with any letter that you are desirous
should come unopened to my hands, you may
either write by Mr. Meredith, when he returns, or
else enclose your letter to me in a cover directed
to WiUiam Lingen, Esq., in the Castle of Dubhn,
who being one of the secretaries to the Govem
ment, will deliver it safe to my hands, who am
with the utmost gratitude and sincerity,
Madam,
Your most obUged, and
Obedient humble servant,
Robert Killala.
And again, relating to the old affair of the ser
mon on the Martyrdom.

28 MEMOIRS OF
BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, Feb. 11,1731.
Madam,
Since I had the honour of writing last to
you, I preached my sermon on the 30th of January;
the Duke went to church and was pleased to take
a very pai-ticular notice of it, and order me to print
it, in a very obliging manner. Mr. Carey met me
when I went to wait upon the Duke with one of
the printed copies, and was exceeding gracious.
He made me a great many compliments, and de
sired that I would give him one of the copies to
send it to you, that he might have an opportunity
of writing at the same time, &c. I went accord
ingly the next day to wait upon him, and earned
him one for himself and another to send to you,
which he received, and at the same time spoke to
one of the secretaries who was by, to put him in mind
of sending it. You will see when you receive it,
how much I am obliged to you for the kind remarks
you was so good as to make, and how many alte
rations I have made, the copy which I sent you
being wrote in a hurry, that I might have time to
receive your commands before I preached it. I
have much shortened King James's character, in
order to take off some of the weight of that just
objection which you made of its not looking like
a part of a continued discourse. And in the fol
lowing paragraph in the character of King Charles,
I have added in these words — " Bred up with

LADY SUNDON. 29
notions of despotic government under the pernicious
influence of Ms father T
This, it was to be hoped, would satisfy the
patroness of the Low Church party.
I intend to do myself the honour of sending you
a couple of the copies of my sermon by the first
private hand I can meet with, as also two more to
Mr. Clayton at the same time.
I hope you have received my last letter, which I
sent you by post in answer to yours of the 20th of
January, as also one which I sent you by a pri
vate hand, which, though I wrote it on the 2nd of
January, the person by whom I intended to send
it did not sail from home in a good while after
wards. The Duke, I think, has daily increased in
his cirilities to me. The more I know of him, the
more reason I have to think and speak well of
him. I must beg the favour of you to make my com
pliments to Mr. Clayton, and to assure him that it
is not for want of respect that I do not wi-ite often
to him, but that I am unwilling to give unnecessary
trouble to one whose time is so much taken up
already ; I should at the same time make an apo
logy to Mrs. Clayton, for giving her such frequent
trouble with my correspondence ; but. Madam, I
am like a spoUed child — I presume upon the least
encouragement; if I am too forward, you must
blame yourself, who have given me so much rea-

30 MEMOIRS OF
son to be pleased with, and proud of, subscribing
myself. Your most obliged, and
Obedient humble servant,
Robert Killala.
The new Viceroy of Iceland, at this period,
was Lionel Cranfield, first Duke of Dorset, of a
famUy " eminent," as CoUius remarks, " for their
undoubted antiquity, but also, during ages, for
their genius and intellectual accomplishments."
The fixst Duke of Dorset was, however, far less
distinguished in these respects than his prede
cessor, Charles, Earl of Dorset, better known as
Lord Buckhurst, one of the best bred men of his
time — one of the most generous, brave, and wit
tiest of the Peers of his day. Of this ornament
to his age and station, it was fairly said that, with
regard to the public, he acted through the course
of his life like an able pilot in a long voyage, con
tented to sit quiet in the cabin when the winds
were aUayed, and waters smooth, but rigilant and
ready to resume the helm when the storm arose,
and the sea grew tumultuous. "He was the finest
gentleman of the voluptuous Court of Charles
the Second, and in the gloomy one of King
WiUiam," writes Walpole ; " he had as much wit
as his first master, or his contemporaries, Buck-

LADY SUNDON. 31
ingham and Rochester, without the royal want of
feeling, the Duke's want of principles, or the
Earl's want of thought." The son of this accom
plished father was a thorough courtier and man
of business ; and the appointment of Viceroy in
Ireland was only the climax of a long series of
offices and honours too tedious to be here enume
rated. His Duchess had also been distinguished
by royal favour — a Maid of Honour to Queen
Anne, and First Lady of the Bedchamber to
Caroline, when Princess of Wales, and subse
quently Mistress of the Robes. His Duchess was
EUzabeth CoUyear, niece to the first Earl of Port-
more, and mother, -with many other children, of
the famous Lord George Germaine. She was
married in 1709, and died in 1768.
The letters from the Bishop of KiUala to Mrs.
Clayton, present a lively picture of the Vice
regal Court at this period, and ai-e valuable,
as affording the observations of a shrewd and
deeply-interested looker-on. The Duke of Dorset,
it wUl be remembered, succeeded as Lord-Lieu
tenant the distinguished orator and statesman,
John, second Lord Carteret and first Earl of
GranvUle. Of this celebrated Minister, whom
the Bishop describes as so liberal in words and
promises, some traits will not be inappropriate,

32 memoirs OF
especially as his name occurs fi-equently in the
course of this coiTCspondence.
Lord Carteret owed to Westminster School,
and to Christ Church, Oxford, those attainments
which show with such signal lustre in the Senate.
He was an instance of early proficiency ripening
into a brUliant maturity, and is said by Dean
Swift, with a singularity scarcely to be justified,
to have carried away from Oxford more Greek,
Latin, and Philosophy, than became a person of
his rank. It was soon found, however, that the
ambition to excel at the University, had origi
nated in the force of a commanding intellect, and
in the greatness of a mind wholly above sordid
motives ; and that his learning was coupled with
quickness and precision in the affairs of life ; that
he was bold, enterprising, and jjowerful as a
speaker, and excelled both in the declamatory
and argumentative style. He was well acquainted
with all modern languages, and acquired a con
siderable knowledge of the law, whilst in his
political views he was profound, and his notions
were just and great. " His character," observes
Lord Chesterfield, " may be summed up in nice
precision, quick decision, and unbounded pre-
.sumption." To these attainments and endow-

LADY SUNDON. 3'9
ments there was united a great share of personal
attraction. " Commanding beauty, smoothed by cheerful grace,
Sat on the open features of his face.
Bold was his language, rapid, glowing, strong,
And science flowed spontaneous from his tongue :
A genius seizing systems, slighting rules.
And, void of gall, with boundless scorn of fools."*
After a long and brilliant political career, he
was, in 1724, constituted Lord-Lieutenant of Ire.-
land. One of his first acts there, was to offer a
reward of 300Z. for the discovery of the author of
the " Drapier's Letters ;" this was a singular step,
considering that Lord Carteret lived at that time
in terms of great intimacy with Dean Swift. l"he
Viceroy and the Dean were one day arguing upon
Irish affairs, when Lord Carteret defended the
measures of Government with so much force, and
sti-ength of reason, that Swift cried out in a pas
sion — " What brought you among us ? Get you
gone — get you gone. Let us have our boobies
back again." The Dean, having one day in
scribed two lines on the window of the Castle,
asserting his independence. Lord Carteret rebuked
him, by writing underneath the following couplet —
" My very good Dean, none ever comes here
But who hath something to hope, or something to fear."
* These lines are attributed to Horace Walpole's pen.
VOL. II. D

34 MEMOIRS GF
Lord Carteret, during his Vice-royalty, was iu
the zenith of his fame ; his conduct was irre
proachable, and the vice of drinking, by which his
fine qualities were eventually obscured, had not
then been indulged to excess. He was greatly
beloved by the Irish, and the people were happy
under his wise and lenient rule. His govemment
lasted six years, during which many salutary
laws were passed, and foi-m the best monument
to his fame. S^vift defended him against the
attacks of the violent Whigs, who suspected Lord
CarteiTt of favouring Jacobites and High Tories;
jmd in return, some years afterwards, when writing
to Dean Swift, his Lordship said — " When people
ask me how I governed Ireland, I say, that I
pleased Dean Swift." In 1730, Lord Carteret
was succeeded by the Duke of Dorset; and the
details which Bishop Clayton's letters afford,
relate to the administration of that nobleman.
Lord Carteret was first married, in '1710, to
Frances, only daughter of Sir Robert Worsley,
Bart., a lady of gi-eat beauty and merit, who died
at Hanover, on the 9th of June, 1743. His
second wife, us we have seen, was the Lady
Sophia Fei-mor.
The close of Lord Carteret's life was overcast
by his one fatal vice — drinking, which, according

LADY SUNDON. 35
to Lord Chesterfield, he brought away with him,
with his Greek and Latin, from Oxford.
" Ambition dealt her flambeau to his hand,
And Bacchus sprinkled fuel on the brand."
He lived, however, until the age of seventy-
three, and died on the 2nd of January, 1763, im
mediately before the Treaty of Paris ; the articles
of which were read to him whilst he was fast
sinking to the grave. To this treaty he declared
his approbation : — as, to use his own words,
*' the approval of a dying statesman"— to the
most honourable peace that the world ever saw.
Singular was the judgment, which, as in the
case of the Bishop of Killala, covdd prefer the
Duke of Dorset, as a ruler, to the wise, noble, and
experienced Earl of Granville.

D 2

CHAPTER IL

The Queen's chairman accused of having an understanding
with highwaymen — Interest made with the Queen for
him — His discharge insisted on by Lord Pomfret — Lady
Pomfret's Private interview with the Queen — A Manceuvre
— A Court lady in a dangerous path — ^Vertue, the Engraver
— The Court stationary — A nonjuring Dean — His opinion
of the Princess of Wales — Decoration of her apartments at
Hampton Court — Sir James ThornhiU — Subjects for paint
ing — Letter from Henrietta, Duchess of Marlborough —
Her attachment to Congreve — His bequest to her —
Voltaire's opinion of his works — Swift's lines upon him —
Grief of the Duchess, on his death — Reports to Mrs.
Clayton's prejudice confuted — Swift's discreditable conduct
— His letter to Lady Suffolk — Mrs. Barber and her poems
— Lady Russell's opinion of the Bath waters and doctors —
Swift and Booby Bettesworth — Dr. Delany — His recom
mendation of Mrs. Barber — Account of Dr. Delany.

CHAPTER II.
The following letter fr-om the Earl of Pomfret is
characteristic of the lofty nobleman — gentlemanly
and respectfrU, yet resolved.
the EARL OF POMFRET TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Easton, Aug. 5th, 1729.
Madam, I have had so many and repeated instances
of your goodness, that though it must be no small
concern whenever I seem to encroach too much
upon it, yet it is with more confidence that I pre
sume to trouble you, than if I was not so well
acquainted with your good nature. So it is natural
for me to fly to you for advice and assistance,
whenever anything arises, in which of myself I
should be deficient.
The cause of my taking this liberty, is a letter
I received from Mr. Hervey by order of the Queen,
and which indeed a good deal sui-piised me. You
may remember, Madam, some time since, my tell
ing you I had discharged one of the Queen's chair
men, upon his being sti-ongly suspected of having

40 MEMOIRS OF
too good an understanding with some highway
men, one of which has been condemned, and I
believe is since executed. Now, since my absence,
I find somebody has prevaUed upon the Queen to
receive a petition fi-om this chairman, complaining
of my rigour and injustice. If you remember.
Madam, I had the honour to apprise you of this
affair, as I should have done her Majesty, but
that I believed it a thing below her notice, and if
I recollect right, you were of the same opinion.
I take the liberty to inclose Mr. Hervey's letter, by
which you will see how great an interest he takes
in that affair ; which, though I have answered, by
teUing him the man was removed upon three affi
davits, upon oath, taken before a Justice of Peace,
and now in my possession, besides the verbal evi
dence of a gentleman, a member of Parliament,
having read them all to Steward ; yet it is only
you I depend upon, for a true representation of
this matter to the Queen.
Upon these reasons I thought it my duty not to
let such a person wear her Majesty's livery, which
if I had done, I am sm-e, whenever it had come to
her ears, she must have thought me very negligent
for permitting. But I must beg leave to obsei-ve,
that there wiU never want petitions of this sort if
they are encouraged, and if a Master of the Horse
has not the power of removing a chairman or foot
man, he vrill soon be upon too low a foot to keep
them in any order.

L.VDY SUNDON. 41
Madam, I humbly ask pardon for the trouble I
have given you, if it was only for the reading so
long a letter ; I ought to ask a thousand, but I
know your great goodness, though I can no more
express it than I can the vast obligations I am
under to you, and for which I beg leave to sub
scribe myself, with the utmost gratitude, and sin-
cerest respect. Madam, Your most obliged,
obedient humble servant,
Pomfret.
My wife desires her most humble service to you,
as we both do to Mr. Clayton.

Meantime, the Court of Queen Caroline was
going on much in the same way as usual.
Lady Pomfret has already furnished several
specimens of her epistolary talent to this col
lection, but her correspondence with Mrs. Clayton
was so frequent, — the letters preserved being up
wards of forty in number, and many of them are
so full of Court gossip, that it has been found
desirable to make a selection from the rest, and
introduce them here. The following account of
a private interview with the Queen, is a curious
picture of Court etiquette and manners : —

42 memoirs of
countess of pomfret to mrs. clayton.
Saturday, June 24.
Dear Madam,
I was to wait on you this afternoon, tiiough
with very little hopes of finding you ; yet if I had
been so happy, it would have saved you the
trouble of this ; which comes to acquaint you with
what accidentally happened this afternoon. When
the Queen had dismissed us all, I being the last,
she called me back, and bid me send Mr. Walpole,
and dien Mrs. Howard ; while she was doing this,
the others went on, and I was left alone with her
Majesty ; when she had done speaking, and no
body being near, I thought it was not improper
to follow the directions you were so kind to give
me, and I began with saying, my Lord and I
feared to be quite teasing in troubling either of
their Majesties at this time, but — and then she
took me by the hand, and with a look pecuUar to
herself, bid me trust her, upon which I said, (as
you ordered) that I begged her pardon for that
trouble, and, as I was sensible how good she had
ever been to me, hoped she would excuse it. I
take the liberty to tell you all that passed,
beUeving by what you have said, you may not
think it proper to do any more ; but I am sure
what was said for my own sake, had been much
better said by you ; and, I am sure, also, by her
kind behariour, as Avell as by former experience,
I owe all the pleasure the Court can give me to

LADY SUNDON. 4$
your kinder influence. I might well fear I have
tired your patience, but I have a more than
ordinai-y satisfaction in receiving obligations from
one, who confers them with a better grace than
any other ; and to whom I shaU account it as the
greatest happiness I can enjoy, to be a
Most faithfiil and
devoted humble servant,
J. Pomfret.
There appears in the next note to be a
manoeuvre attempted, to get the obnoxious Mrs.
Titchboume out of the way.
COUNTESS OF POMFRET TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bath, June 8, 1728.
To receive a letter from you and to be pleased,
is so joined together, that it would be difficult to
separate them ; but when it brings news like that
of to-day, they must have more eloquence than I
am mistress of, that can describe half the joy I
feel ; to know you are well, to hear you think of
me with affection, to know what you tell me of my
own family ; of the Queen ; and to know I shall
be some time longer with the Princess, is all my
heart can desire, or your kindness produce ;
though I could wish to owe that last, rather to
your friendship, than Lady Sussex's condition.
I have just had Mrs. Titchboume with me, having
sent to beg the favour of speaking a word to her.

44 memoirs of
not being able to go out. I told her, that you
had desired to know, if she talked of coming
away ; for if her health did not require a longer
stay, I believed yours would hardly let you wait
above a fortnight at a time, though you were un
willing to bring her up before she had of herself
extended it. She answered, that she had already
wiitten to Sirs. Howard, that she would come
when required ; and that she rather chose to
come now, than to stay any longer; and desired
I would tell you, she was very well pleased to
Avait, after your fortnight was out ; so that I am
sure you maj' very safely send to her, or I will
tell her what you would have me. Now, for the
Princess ; she heard me read what you said for
yourself, and from Dr. Friend, and received both,
as both deserved ; and I am persuaded it is not
in Dr. Friend's power to have things in more
order and ease than last time, the Princess being
perfectly satisfied with what he did then. I shaU
see you so soon, and have so much to say to you,
that I wiU detain you now no longer, than to
repeat, how truly
I am, dearest Madam,
your affectionate and most
constant humble servant,
J. Pomfret.
I beg my compliments to Dr. Friend in return
for his to me.
The following letter having been the last of the

LADY SUNDON. 45
writer's communications while in attendance on
the Princess Caroline, accounts for the tone of
mingled mortification and humility which per
vades it.
countess of pomfret to MRS. CLAYTON.
Bath, July 1, 1728.
Dear Madam,
Dr. Friend brought me this moi-ning the
agreeable news of your being well, which I assure
you nothing can hinder my feeling sincere joy at.
He brought me, too, your kind letter, which he
gave me upon the walks, so that the Princess saw
it. I put it in my pocket till we came home, and
then she said, " Go and read your letters till prayer
time ; " as soon as I was alone, I did so, and assm-e
you, it is impossible for any one to be more
sensible of another's kindness than I am of yours,
and will undoubtedly follow your advice as I
would an angel from heaven from this moment
forward, if it is not too late. When I returned
to the Princess, she asked what you said ; I told
her, you were as usual very kind, and gave me
good advice, in repeating to me how happy I
should be in returning to the Queen, whose good
ness I so well knew, and that you said it was
right to value her merit, but that I must consider
how improper it was to desire more fi-eedom than
was convenient. I said this, because you had
said I must be easy with her, and she is quick

46 MEMOIRS OF
enough not to believe you had said nothing to me
conceming an affair in which she knows there is
so much to be said. I read your letter over three
times, and then burned it as you ordered, before
I went up to her. I must say what you tell me,
and in that manner, makes me very much in the
dark, and if I could tell you some things, I believe
I should sui-prise you, if what you hint at is true ;
yet I would fain account for the demonstration
you speak of a thousand ways, rather than at
the expense of those, I tiiink, have honour and
that I love ; not that I doubt your penetration or
judgment, and vrill act as you direct, though it can
be no secret to her that the Queen is displeased,
since she has said it to me. But I will appear in
different, and I wish I could be reaUy so. You
remember you gave me leave to say, when I left
Richmond, that you found it was better for
Princesses not to be too much attached, or some
thing to that effect, in which light I have always
.spoke of you, when I spoke at all, and hope you
do not believe I ever will mention a single word,
or seem to think one thing you have forbid me.
I find myscK in a very dangerous path, and will
get out as soon and gently as I can, though till
I see you, forgive me if I say I stUl esteem and
value her, and cannot but hope it is possible that
she (loves me too much to hurt me designedly
and) may be wronged. Excuse this failing, if it
is one, and think if I can love another so well,
nov,7 much, how very much, I love yourseU, to

lady sundon. 47
whom I am more devoted than words can explain,
being. Entirely yours,
J. Pomfret.
Mr. Vertue, who is mentioned in the foUovring
letter, is Vertue, the engraver, whose manuscript
CoUections were of such service to the literary
reputation of Horace Walpole; and Dr. Friend,
for whose picture he is to wait on Mrs. Clayton,
was a fashionable physician, figuring much in the
letters of her Ladyship, and of her fail- contempo
raries : to whom we shall have occasion to refer,
presently, more at length.
countess of pomfret to MBS. CLAYTON.
Easton, September 7, 1729.
The numberless thanks I owe you, dear Madam,
for all your late goodness, had attended on you
last post, but that an accident prevented me. I
please myself with the imagination that this letter
will find you much more increased in strength,
and still established in your health ; for which a
nation ought to pray, and all good people do. I
hope before this time, Mr. Vertue has waited on
you, concerning Dr. Friend's picture, as I €poke
to him to do, the moming I left London. I know-
not if I shall be so happy as to see you again a
»n:eat while ; but I am sm-e it is impossible for me
to be quite so vrithout it. The King's approach
makes me fear wtiiting at Windsor, and your
going to Sundon leaves me little hopes of our

48 MEMOIRS OF
meeting in town, which I would certainly take in
my way, for so great a satisfaction. l,ou see,
dear Madam, I am for contriving all the innocent
pleasures life wUl admit of; so far, your good
adrice has prevaUed, for my happiness and my
health, (one great ingredient of happiness) I owe
quite to you, being considerably better since I
saw you ; but I should soon swell my letter to a
volume, if I go about to recount the benefits I
have received from you. My Lord Pomfret de
sires his humble respects to you ; and we both
beg our compliments to Mr. Clayton, who, I hope,
has had no more of his ague. Dear Madam, may
you long enjoy an uninten-upted health, and be
the fountain of happiness to all your sincere
friends, amongst which number, give me leave to
place her that is, with equal respect and love.
Dearest Mrs. Clayton's
most faithful and obliged humble servant,
J. Pomfret.
Sophy has desired me so earnestly to say she
is rejoiced to hear you are well, and give her
humble service to you, that I cannot refuse
troubling you with it.
FROM THE COUNTESS OF POMFRET.
August 7th, 1731.
Thus long have I stayed, dear Madam, in hopes
of meeting with some news or other that might
accompany my sincere thanks for all your late
favours, when I enjoyed the pleasure of seeing

LADY SUNDON. 49
you at London, but whether the Court is too per
fect to admit of improvement, or more fixed than
to suffer any change, I do not know. All things
appear to move in the same manner as usual,
and all our actions are as mechanical as the clock
which directs 'em ; to repeat our diary would but
be to spoil the agreeable description I heard of it,
one night at supper.
The new Bedchamber Woman was here on Sun
day last, and comes into waiting when I go out.
My Lady Deloraine is often in tears for the loss
of my Lord, which sometimes leaves marks of
gi-ief in her eyes, at the hours she is obliged to
appear ; but as for the story you heard about her,
I find nothing of it. Your friend. Lady Anne, is
still happy, in that favour she can never lose;
and (if I may ventiu-e to answer for her) your
other fi-iend is grown as contented to be without
that favour she can never gain.
My late hours of a night (it being often two
o'clock before I get to bed) oblige me to rise so
late of a morning, that I have hardly more time
than to be dressed, &c. before the Queen calls ;
which forces me, much sooner than I could wish,
to come to a conclusion. I am, dear Madam,
With the greatest truth and affection.
Your most faithful, humble servant,
J. PoMFRET.
My Lord P. sends his most humble service
and a thousand thanks.
VOL. II, E

50 MEMOIRS OF
We now proceed with several amusing letters
from one whom Mrs. Clayton describes, on the
back of this letter, as " an Irish non-juring Dean,
vei-y vritty, and very good for nothing." His
merits and demerits, whatever their extent, have
not otherwise descended to posterity.
MR. JONES TO MRS. CLAYTON. Bath, June 21.
My dearest Mrs. Clayton,
I do profess, in the integrity of my honest
heai-t, that I do very much love, honom-, and
esteem you. You may please to understand, that,
for many years, I have kept a very little dog ; he
is much inclined to be saucy, very often extremely
merry, and alwa}s good for nothing ; but I cannot
help loving the poor creature, because I am satis
fied the creature loves me much ; for when I am
sick and lock myself in, the poor creature will
groan incessantly at my chamber-door ; and no
eril treatment can divert him from giring me very
disagreeable testimonies of his faithfiilness and
affection to me.
You may please to understand farther, that some
time since, I did presume to trouble Mr. Clayton,
so far, as to beg a small favour of Mr. Clayton,
but he has not thought fit to take any the
least notice of my request to him. If this proceeds
from his resolved, deliberate contempt of me, I

lady sundon. 51
shall possess my soul in patience, but I do most
humbly beg your thoughts of the matter, and I
shall acknowledge your favour with the most sen
sible gratitude. I am with the greatest respect
and truth. Madam,
Your most obedient,
humble servant. Bar. Jones.
Another letter which begins, " My honoured
dearest Mrs. Clayton," is only an apology for
having troubled his correspondent with " a very
unadrised letter," as the writer was then, in truth,
" labouring under a weight and variety of heavy
afflictions." Like most very merry and thoughtless
men, the Dean complains of " dejection of spirits,
and melancholy apprehensions," most likely of
debt or disreputable inconvenience.
The next account was more cheering:
My Dearest Mrs. Clayton,
I was much disordered with long standing,
when I saw you, so that it was with difficulty that
I got into the open air, which soon recovered me,
and since that I have eat and drank, and smoked
my pipe, so that I am at present in a situation of
great tranquillity and complacency to myself.
I cannot look upon myself as a vei-y entire sub-
e 2

52 MEMOIRS OF
ject, &c., but I do with the most solemn truth pro
fess unto you that my soul is an arrant captive to
her Royal Highness, for indeed she treated mc
with a vei-y particular condescension, and that
rendered the more charming, and irresistible by
the most agreeable sweetness ; besides I discerned
in some things she was pleased to say, such a
quickness of apprehension, seconded by a great
judiciousness of observation, that I am neither
afraid nor ashamed (as a great author has it) to
own, or rather proclaim, that my devotion, or rather
affection, (if that would not be too famUiar,) shall
always follow my esteem.
It is to your goodness entirely that I owe this
great honour, which I acknowledge with all the
gratitude that so just a sense of a very valuable
kindness can inspire me with. I do really at this
present, vei-y luxuriously regale myself with re
flection, and my imagination will always retain a
very voluptuous loathness ever to forget a favour
of so considerable an importance. If some peo
ple knew that I made a new coat on purpose to
wait upon her Royal Highness, my history would
be said and sung much to a very scurvy ditty ; but
this will never affect me. I am with the most
inviolable sincerity and thankfulness,
Madam,
Your most obedient
Humble servant,
Bar. Jones.

lady sundon. 53
The work to which the succeeding letter refers,
was, probably, the decoration of Queen Caroline's
room, when Princess of Wales, at Hampton Court.
This, the Duke of Shrewsbury, then Lord Cham
berlain, had intended should be done by Sebas
tian Ricci, but through the interest of the Earl
of Halifax, ThornhUl was preferred. Sir James,
as is well known, painted the cupola of St Paul's,
for which he received only forty shillings the
square yard — and even that poor payment he
obtained with difficulty, whilst large sums were
lavished on La Fosse, and other foreign artists.
For the Hall at Blenheim he received only
twenty-five shillings the square yard, yet he con
trived with his earnings to buy back his paternal
estate, ThornhiU, in Dorsetshire — a happiness of
which few men can boast, though many may desire
it. ThornhiU occasionally painted portraits —
he even dabbled in architecture. He had the
merit of suggesting the Academy of Arts to the
Earl of Halifax. His daughter married the real
genius of his time, Hogarth.
The following letters afford an instance of the
great variety of Lady Sundon's correspondence,
and the various subjects of the extraordinary
confidence with which she was favoured by the
Queen : —

54 MEMOIRS OF

MR. BENSON, SURVEYOR-GENERAL OF THE WORKS,
TO MRS. CLjVYTON.
Madam, Not having the good fortune to meet with
Mr. Clayton in town, I intended to have had the
honour of waiting upon you from this place, to
have given you an account of the business of
yom- staircase, but being to return to town this
evening, I take the liberty to do it in this
manner. If there was as much difficulty in executing
your commands, as there is pleasure, they might
deserve the appellation you are pleased to give
them ; but one finds so gi-eat a desire in every
one that is applied to you, on your account, to
do anything to deserve your favour, that there is
no manner of trouble in executing your com
missions. Ml-. ThornhiU agrees to paint some figures on
every side, and, against you come to town next
week, he will have made three or four sketches
for your approbation. We shall pitch upon some
little Ovidian story for each piece. I have chose
an ApoUo for the ceiling, which in my poor
opinion, does better in that situation, because of
the glory, which looks best over head. We in
tend to have the birth of Pallas for the long side,
one of the Herculean Labours for the right hand,
and a Daphne or a Pan on the left. But you
begin already to perceive that I am very much at

LADY SUNDON. 55
leisure, and am willing to employ my time agree
ably, though too much at the expense of yours.
I am, Madam,
Your most obedient.
Most humble servant,
W. Benson.
The next letter is no less worthy of attention.
HENRIETTA, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH, TO
MRS. CLAYTON.
I am sure you think. Madam, that I am not a
common solicitor, and I am very sure that you
are of as imcommon an inclination in doing good,
only for the sake of that which makes me venture
to beg you wUl show the enclosed to the Queen.
The King is already apprised of it, and if the
Queen would speak for it, it would be of great
use. The case is a very hard one, as every one,
was it their case, would think.
My Lady DUlon, the present vridow, I know
very well. She is a mighty good woman, and a
very agreeable one, and very miserable now to
leave her child she doats ol^ in these unhappy
circumstances. I have been mighty seldom out, since I was to
wait of you, and am, vrith esteem.
Madam, Your humble servant,
Marlborough.

56 MEMOIRS OF
The haughty beginning of this letter, might
prepare the initiated reader for the signature,
' Marlborough.' The resemblance of the original
hand-writing to tliat of Sai-ah, Duchess of Marl
borough, the fii-m, clear text, and the peremptory,
straight-fonvard style, might lead one to suppose,
that the epistle came fi-om that celebrated
woman ; but it is the production of her daughter,
Henrietta, Duchess of Marlborough, in her own
right. To her mother, the Duke of Marlborough
once addressed these cutting words : — " I do not
wonder that you and your daughter do not agree,
you are so alike!" Alluding to the temper of
both these high-spirited ladies.
Henrietta, junior Duchess, as she was called
after her father's death, differed, however, in one
respect from her mother. She had passions, if
not affections. To Congreve, who wrote the
funeral eulogy upon her young brother, the Mar
quis of Blandford, she was madly attached ; and
he, whose heart was corrupted by a life of singular
good fortune, and by the caresses of coroneted
dames, forgot the claims of the frail and fair Mrs.
Bracegirdle upon his honom- and justice, to flatter
the avarice of one of the richest peeresses in Eng
land. He left the Duchess the bulk of his for
tune. How little that ill-bestowed money has

LADY SUNDON. 57
prospered with the descendants of the gi-eat Duke
of Marlborough, the history even of the first two
generations after his daughter might show. Hen
rietta, Duchess of Marlborough, died childless ;
and her nephew, the third Duke, pawned the
sword with which his grandfather had fought at
Ramilies. His brother, Jack Spencer, was equally
impoverished by low excesses.
The junior Duchess had the beauty of her
parents ; was proud and passionate like her
mother ; and loved money as did her great and,.
otherwise, almost faultless father. I suppose a
marriage with Congreve would have been a dan
gerous experiment to both parties ; the fond.
enthusiasm of the lofty Henrietta might for ever
have been annihilated, and ¦ the story of the
Countess of Wai-wick and Addison re-enacted..
Congreve, who began his literary career with a
novel, had never known disappointment in that
or any other undertaking in his brilliant, but,.
perhaps, not felicitous course. Strange to say,
he shrank from the result of his genius; of a
good old Staffordshire family still extant, yet,.
in his fortunes an adventurer, he could not
bear to be regarded as a mere man of letters..
¦"He wrote," says Voltaire, in his "Letter on
the English Nation," " only a few plays, but

58 MEMOIRS OF
they are excellent in their way. The laws of
the drama are strictly observed in tliem. They
abound in characters, all which are shadowed
with the utmost delicacy, and we do not meet
with so much as one low or coarse jest. The
language is everywhere that of men of fashion,
but their actions are those of knaves. He was
infirm, and come to the verge of life when I knew
him. Mr. Congieve had one defect, which was
his entertaining too mean an idea of his first pro
fession, that of a writer, though it was to this he
owed his fame and fortune. He spoke of his
works as of trifles that were beneath him, and
hinted to me in our first conversation, that I
should risit him upon no other foot than that of
a gentleman who led a life of plainness and sim
pUcity. I answered, that had he been so imfor-
tunate as to be a mere gentleman, I should never
have come to see him, and I was very much dis
gusted at so unseasonable a piece of vanity."
As Dr. Johnson justly observes, he treated the
Muses vrith ingratitude. The same low, and little
feelings led him to bequeath to the opulent
Duchess that which would have secured from
destitution the hardworking actress. If Swift's
pungent lines were founded in truth, in his early
career he had himself known the inconvenience

LADY SUNDON. 59
of nan-ow circumstances ; but these insinuations
are discountenanced by the fact that Congreve
was at an early period placed in very advantageous
public offices.
" Thus Congreve spent in writing plays,
And one poor office, half his days ;
While Montagu, who claimed the station
To be MeccEnas of the nation,
For poets open table kept.
But ne'er considered where they slept.
Himself as rich as fifty Jews,
Was easy though they wanted shoes.
And crazy Congreve scarce could spare
A shilling to discharge his chair,
Till prudence taught him to appeal
From psean's fire to party zeal ;
Not owing to his happy vein
The fortunes of his latter scene,
Took proper principles to thrive,
And so may every dunce alive."
After Congreve's death, the Duchess of Marlbo
rough indulged her grief tUl it assumed the foi-m
of insanity. It was reported that she had a model
in wax made of her fascinating and witty fr-iend ;
that to this she talked — that it was placed at table,
where a cover for Mr. Congreve was set, as usual ;
that she gave this figui-e food, and had an
imaginai-y wound on the leg dressed reg-ularly,
and even consulted physicians on the health of
this supposed representative of the defunct.

60 MEMOIRS OF
This, however, is only a traditional account of a
distressing mania, a theme for pity rather than
for ridicule.
However, she took his fortune, for she was a
Churchill ; the amount, after a poor 200/. to Mrs.
Bracegirdle and some other legacies were paid,
was 10,000?. She put up a monument to his
memory in Westminster Abbey, and placed upon
it a fine inscription — whilst her husband, then Earl
Godolphin, was one of the pall-bearers at the
funeral performance. Her characteristic letter to
another of the pall-bearers, Mr. George Berkeley,
given in the Suffolk Letters, must not here be
omitted : *
Sir, The last letter I writ to you, was upon
always having thought that you had a respect,
and a kind one, for Mr. Congreve. I dare say
you believe I could sooner think of doing the
most monstrous thing in the world, than sending
anything that was his, where I was not persuaded
it would be valued. The number of them I think
so of, are a mighty few, indeed ; therefore, I must
always be in a particular manner. Yours, &c.,
Marlborough.
But all was not compliment; nor was the elder
• Suffolk Letters, i., p. 331.

LADY SUNDON. 61
Duchess of Marlborough the only person who
thought that " where wine was to be sold, a bush
should be hung out." It seems that reports of
Mrs. Clayton's disposing of her influence for
money, were prevalent. She, however, evidently
courted inquiry on this subject, and confronted
her calumniators.
" I have heard. with the greatest concern ima
ginable," writes a certain Mrs. Cole, (described by
an endorsement on the back of the letter as a
great friend of the Right Honourable Lady
Barnard,) " that some ill-designing people raised a
report, as if I had said that the (for ever blessed)
Lady Bamard had given your Ladyship some
thousand pounds to place her children at court.
I hereby declare, in the presence of Almighty
God, that I never said any such thing, nor ever
thought it. Such a vile invention was intended
to ruin my reputation with all those who truly
know you. But I hope. Madam, that I am so
happy as to be justified in your opinion. I know
too well your generous friendship to the deceased
and her just gratitude to your Ladyship, to have
made so vile a return, which is so injurious to the
living and to the dead."
A much more seiious attack soon afterwards
disturbed her repose. This was conveyed in a

62 MEMOIRS OF
letter written by a Mrs. Baiber, who was intro
duced by the Reverend Dr. Delany to Dean
Swift, and who became, perhaps, from her un
scrupulous adoption of any suggestion offered by
the Dean, a creatm-e of that unscrupulous man.
Swift was at this time, in 1731-2, in very bad
odoiu- at court. The luihappy SteUa had breathed
her last in 1727, and he had recovered from grief
and remorse, only the more bitterly to attack
Walpole, and the more shamelessly to satiiize,
in private society, the Queen.
Mrs. Barber, according to the accounts given of
her by her friends, assumed to be a woman of
piety, and a poetical genius. In 1731, she was
in London, soliciting subscriptions to her poems.
She wrote, according to Dean Swift's statement,
two or three letters to the Queen — one of them,
anonymously, abusing Mrs. Clayton; the other,
praising herself: these she signed, " Jonathan
Swift." The reputation which Swift then bore
for malignity and party hatred was such, that the
letters were generally imputed to him ; and his
editors have even found a mystery in them, which
is, however, solved by a communication from Dr.
Delany, conveying Mrs. Barber's confession of
the whole affair.
Upon this subject Swift had the effrontery to

LADY SUNDON. 63
write to his friend. Lady Suffolk, in the following
terms.* Dublin, July 27, 1731.
I find, from several instances, that I am under
the Queen's displeasure ; and, as it is usual among
princes, without any manner of reason. I am told
there were three letters sent to her Majesty in re
lation to one Mrs. Barber, who is now in London,
and soliciting to a subscription to her poems. It
seems the Queen thinks that those letters were
written by me ; and I scorn to defend myself even
to her Majesty, gTounding my scorn upon the
opinion I had of her justice, her taste, and good
sense, especially when the last of those letters,
whereof I have just received the original from
Mr. Pope, was signed with my name ; and why
I should disguise my hand and yet sign my name,
is both ridiculous and unaccountable. Last post,
I wrote my whole sentiment on the matter to Mr.
Pope, who tells me that you and he rindicated me
on all the three letters, which, indeed, was but
bare justice in you both ; for he is my old fiiend,
and you are in my debt on account of the esteem
I had for you.
I desire you would ask the Queen whether,
since I had the honour to be known to her, I ever
did one single action, or said one single word to
disoblige her. I never asked her for anything ;
and you well know, that when I had an intention
* Lady Suffolk's Letters, vol. ii., pp. 12, 13, 14, 16.

64 MEMOIRS OF
to go to France, about the time that the King
died, I desired your opinion (not as you were a
courtier) whetiier I should go or no, and you
absolutely forbid me, as a thing that would look
disaffected, and for other reasons, wherein I con
fess I was your dupe, as well as somebody's else,
and for want of that journey I fell sick, and was
forced to retm-n hither to my unenvied home. I
hear the Queen hath blamed me for putting a
stone with a Latin inscription over the Duke of
Schomberg's burying-place in my cathedral, and
that the King said publicly I had done it in
malice to create a quarrel between him and the
King of Prussia. The public prints, as well as
the thing itself will vindicate me, and the hand
the Duke had in the Revolution, made him
deserve the best monument. Neither could the
King of Prussia justly take it ill, who must have
heard that the Duke was in the service of Prussia,
and Stadtholder of it, as I have seen in his titles.
The first time I saw the Queen, I talked to her
largely upon the subject of Princes and great
ministers, (it was on a particular occasion,) that
when they receive an ill account of any person,
although they afterwards prove the greatest de
monstration of the falsehood, yet they wUl never
be reconciled ; and although the Queen fell in
with me upon the hardship of such a proceeding,
yet now she treats me directly in the same man
ner. I have faults enough, but never was guilty
of any either to her Majesty or to j-ou ; and as

LADY SUNDON. 65
little to the King, whom I never saw but when I
had the honour to kiss his hand. I am sensible I
owe a great deal of this usage to Sir Robert
Walpole, whom yet I never offended, although he
was pleased to quarrel with me very unjustly, for
which I showed not the least resentment, (what
ever I might have in my breast,) nor was ever a
partaker with those who have been battling him
for some years past.
I am contented that the Queen should see this
letter, and would please to consider how severe a
censure it is to believe I should write thrice to
her, and recommend Mrs. Barber, whom I never
knew till she was recommended to me by a
worthy friend, to help her to subscribe, which, by
her wi-itings, I thought she deserved. Her Ma
jesty gave me leave, and even commanded me,
above five years ago, if I lived till she was Queen,
to write to her on behalf of Ireland, for the
miseries of which kingdom she appeared then to
be much concerned. I desired the friend who
introduced me to be witness of her Majesty's
promise ; yet that liberty of writing to her I
never took, although I had too many occasions ;
and is it not wonderful that I should be sus
pected of writing to her in such a style, in a
counterfeit hand, and my name subscribed upon
a perfect trifle, at the same time that I well knew
myself to be very much out of her Majesty's
good graces ? I am, perhaps, not so very much
awed with Majesty as others, having known
VOL. II. F

66 MEMOIRS OF
Courts more or less fr-om my early youth ; and I
have more than once told the Queen, that I did
not regard her station half so much as the good
understanding I heaid and found to be in her. I
am a good Whig, by thinking it sufficient to be
a good subject, with little personal esteem for
princes fiirther than as thefr virtues deserve ; and,
upon that score, had a most particular respect for
the Queen, your misti-ess. One who asks nothing
may talk with freedom, and that is my case. I
have not said half that was in my heai-t, but I will
have done ; and remembering you are a Countess,
will boiTow so much ceremony as to remain, with
great respect, Your Ladyship's, &c.,
JoNATH. Swift.
And again Swift writes :
1 must desire leave to tell your Lordship, that
1 have not known a more bashful, modest person
than Mrs. Barber, nor one who is less Ukely to
ply her fiiends, patrons, or protectors, for any
favour, or is more thankful for the smallest
Therefore, I hope you will continue to do her
any good office that lies in your way without
trouble to yourself. And among other things, I
desire that you will advise her to be more thrifty;
for she carries her liberality as much too high as
our fiiend Sir- Gilbert did his avarice. I thought
I did a fine thing to subscribe for ten copies of
her poems ; and she contrived to send me pre-

LADY SUNDON. 67
sents that, in my conscience, are worth more than
the money I subscribed.
That the general opinion was not, however, in
favour of this pious lady, Mrs. Barber, is shown
in the account of her by Lady Russell :
LADY RUSSELL TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bath, October 18th, 1731.
Dear Madam,
I cannot omit the first opportunity of re
turning my thanks for the favour of yours, which
was a pleasure I could never have expected, as I
know so well how little time you have to spare ;
but it only confirms me in what I always found,
that you have more ways of obliging and making
your fiiends happy than anybody can think of or
imagine. To be remembered by you in so obliging
a manner, has given me more spirits than I have
had since I had the pleasure of seeing you; for,
indeed, I had been very unhappy at haring heard
nothing since I left London. Your not saying
anything of your health, makes me hope you are
quite well.
I beg, dear Madam, you will not give yourself
the trouble of writing. If Mrs. Stacia would write
sometimes to her sister, to let me know how you
are it would be a great satisfaction to me. As to
myself, I cannot say I have found any benefit by
the waters ; this last week have been rather worse.
I believe it is to very little purpose to caU in any-
F 2

68 MEMOIRS OF
body else, as I am sure everything has been tried ;
but as you so obligingly press it in your letter, I
immediately sent for Dr. Winter; your having
once named him was sufficient to prejudice me in
his favour. Dr. Bave is the man in fashion here ;
but from seeing him in black velvet, strangely
powdered, and terribly peifumcd, I never could
have any opinion of his judgment ; and indeed,
Madam, everybody agrees that Dr. Winter is a
very ingenious man ; he has not ordered me any
thing new as yet. Dr. Wigan goes away fi-om
home next Monday, and will wait on you as soon
as he gets to town. Indeed, he has been very
civil, and offered to stay longer here if I desired
it. If I don't soon find benefit by the waters,
tiiink it will be to no purpose to stay longer here.
There is a great number of my acquaintance
come down lately. Mrs. Page lodges in the
house, and is very obliging to me. Mrs. Barber is
just come. I saw her last night ; she seems to be
a strange, bold, disagi-eeable woman. Am afraid
she wUl fall often in my way ; for I find she is to
be vei-y much at Mrs. Page's and Lady Conway's.
And now, dear Madam, I cannot help observing
your great goodness to me, in not taking any
notice of the misfortune that happened to the
book. You know me enough to believe it has
vexed me heartily; how he could put it up so
carelessly, I cannot imagiue. I sent a man with
a horse, with a close bag, on purpose, because I
would not trust it in the coach. When I took it

L.IDY SUNDON. 69
out, and saw what had happened, it grieved me
very much ; for I am sorry you should have the
least reason to think I can possibly be careless
about anything that relates to you. I am ashamed
to send this scroll; but I take sixty drops of
laudanum every night, which makes my hand shake
so much, that it is impossible to write. Will not
trouble you any longer, but to beg leave to assure
you that I am. Dear Madam,
Your most obliged and
very humble servant,
M. Russell.
The epistle of Dr. Delany sets the affair in its
true light, and certainly exonerates Swift fi-om
being the actual writer of these letters ; but still
leaves on the mind the impression that they may
have been prompted by him. Mrs. Clayton, the
friend of Hoadly and of Clarke, was a certain mark
for the venom of that fury, partly political and
partly bigoted, which the Dean chose to consider
as zeal for the estabUshment. One cannot hear,
without a certain satisfaction, that he was not
always permitted to be scurrilous, and even
libellous, with impunity. Two years after Mrs.
Barber's affair — which brought a great deal of
odium upon him — Swift having, in a satire
upon Dissenters, directed a few lines against

70 MEMOIRS OF
a member of the Irish bar, whom he called
"Booby Bettesworth," that person swore he
would cut off Swift's ears. He proceeded to the
Deanery, ai-med with a knife for that purpose.
Swift was at Mr. Won-all's. Bettesworth pre
sented himself and introduced himself: " Dr.
Jonathan Swift, Dean of St. Patrick's, I am
Sergeant Bettesworth." " Of what regiment .?" re-
tm-ned the Dean. A violent altercation ensued,
and Bettesworth was turned out into the streets
b) the servants ; but it was deemed necessary to
form a body-guard of neighbours and fiiends, for
this man at once so hated and so beloved, so
admired and so despised.
DR. DELANY TO MRS. CLAYTON. February 27.
Madam,
I take up my pen with some reluctance, yet
under an irresistible impulse, to write to you,
though upon a subject where persons of more
consequence have failed ; yet no way discouraged,
but rather excited, by their ill success.
You have, Madam, in a way very honourable,
and very exemplary, eased one good mind of
misery, relieved one good genius from the load of
life, and placed improvement and happiness of
every kind vrithin his reach. But can one instance
of this kind fUl up the measure of your bene-

LADY SUNDON. 71
ficence ? Does the doing honour to one good
genius do justice to your own .'' No, Madam, you
think too justly and too largely to imagine it
can. You know that every human creature that
equally deserves, has an equal claim to your
beneficence, and that nothing but want of merit
in them, or abUity in you, can acquit you of the
claim. Nor need you be told that distress is
merit, and distress undeserved the greatest.
It is upon these principles that I now beseech
your protection for one who hath labom-ed more
years than Duck* hath lived, in a course of up
right, obliging, well-guided, and unwearied, though
unsuccessful industry; in an exemplary education
of a numerous issue ; in one continued series of
good advice, and good offices of every kind, to
the whole world round her ; who never turned
away her face from any poor man in misery ; and
was always ready in the very letter of the com
mand, if it were possible, to draw out her very
soul to the hungry ; this woman, on the verge of
fifty, vrith an hereditary gout, cough, and asthma,
with a load of four children, excellently educated,
perfectly well disposed, and utterly unprovided
for, sues for your protection, and is refused ; and
refused, too, with apparent justice ; she has injured
you, you say, and appearances are for you.
She hath wrote, it is said, two letters to the
Queen, one in abuse of you without a name, and
another in praise of herself, with the name of
* Stephen Duck.

72 MEMOIRS OF
Dr. Swift ; by the last, she hath to my knowledge,
entirely lost his friendship, and by the former, all
hope of yours. As to Dr. Swift, I shall content
myself to tell you I know her innocent ; but as to
you, I shall not attempt to acquit her, let the
imputation rest upon her with all its weight. It
is for that reason, and under that very circum
stance, I claim your protection for her. And I
claim it as the noblest occasion your virtue ever
did, or ever will find to exert itself to advantage ;
it is perhaps the severest trial to which a Christian
spirit can be exposed, but you must own it is at
the same time the noblest opportunity of triumph
it can ever hope for. Your injury is public, and
your good offices Arill, for that very reason, be
illustrious tenfold. Your character wanted this
occasion to complete it, and Providence hath been
signally indulgent in throwing it in your way. I
speak lowly of it, when I venture to pronounce,
that it wUl not be the least honour with the pre
sent age, nor your least praise with posterity.
Could I think less highly of you than I do, I
had taken a quite contrary method ; I had vindi
cated Mrs. Barber's innocence, and treated her
supposed calumny as monstrous and incredible,
and laid before you, in the ftdlest light, the merit
of supporting a woman of so much worth, whose
least praise was writing (in the intervals of busi
ness) a volume of exceUent poems, with more
good sense, true taste, and a righter turn of think
ing, than any woman of her own, or perhaps of

LADY SUNDON. 73
any age. But then in acting thus, you must own
I had treated you upon the foot of a common, at
least no very uncommon character. Whereas, at
present I have treated you up to my own idea of
your dignity, and to all the height of my esteem ;
and in doing this, I have given you so fair an
occasion of unexampled beneficence, as will be a
sure source of solid satisfaction to you, when all
the vanities of this world shall forsake you, or you
them. It is true. Madam, in doing this I have risked
the honour of your acquaintance, and give me
leave to say, I know the value of what I risk.
Yet I would not enjoy the greatest honour I ever
had or hoped for, upon the terms of a less open
or less upright freedom, upon every just occasion.
And if ever there was a just, an upright, and an
honourable occasion, this is, and is in the place
of ten thousand proofs how much I am.
Madam, Your faithful servant,
Delany.
P.S. Give me leave to add this short postscript,
to assure you, that no mortal knows of this letter,
or ever shall from me, treat it as you will.
This method of addressing Mrs. Clayton, proves
how highly Dr. Delany thought of her good sense,
and how much he trusted to her kind and for-
giring temper. She appears to have inspfred in

74 MEMOIRS OF
her correspondence no ordinary degree of regard,
and even enthusiasm, witness the effusions of Dean
Jones. The mediator on this occasion was the well-
known Patrick Delany, a divine of the Esta
blished Church in L-eland, and husband of Mrs.
Delany, who was no common character — the
admired fabricator of the Flora. Dr. Delany,
was the son of a servant, and rose from the con
dition of a sizer at Trinity College, Dublin, to
the rank of an Irish Dean. He was the favourite
associate of Swift and Sheridan, into whose pas
times, that of making riddles especially, he entered
with zest. Through the influence of Lord Car
teret, Delany obtained several preferments — so
small, however, in value, that he wrote the fol
lowing humorous lines on them :
" Would my good Lord but cast up the account,
And see to what my revenues amount.
My titles ample ! but my gain so small.
That one good vicarage is worth them all.
And very vn-etched sure is he, that double
In nothing but his titles and his trouble."
He soon afterwards added to his means by a
marriage with Mrs. Margaret Lennison, a rich
widow lady.
Dr. Delany distinguished himself in the Theo
logical world, by a pamphlet entitled "Reflec-

LADY SUNDON. 75
tions on Polygamy, and the encouragement given
it by the Scriptures of the Old Testament."
His next work was the " Life of King David," a
work which obtained its writer considerable credit
and fame. His first wife haring died in 1741,
Dr. Delany married a second time, a vridow, Mrs.
Pendarves, better known as Mrs. Delany, the in
timate friend of the Duchess of Portland, and the
approved subject and favourite of Queen Caroline
and George the Third. Dr. Delany, after Dean
Swift's death, answered Lord Orrery's Life of that
most unamiable man, who left, it seems, some
fiiends anxious to redeem his memory from a too
just opprobrium. Delany was, on the other hand,
attacked for not doing justice to the character
of Swift, by Mr. Deane Swift, who vented upon him
a toiTcnt of abuse, which was answered with
the politeness of a gentleman, and the forbear
ance of a Christian.
On this point, however, the latter may here be
allowed to speak for himself. He writes to the
late Mr. John Nichols, April 25th, 1778.— "Pray
did you ever see a forged letter to the Queen,
signed Jonathan Svrift, in favour of one Mrs. Bai
ber, a woollen-draper's wife, and a poetess ? Or
did you ever read Swift's Letters to Pope and the
Countess of Suffolk upon that occasion .? If you

76 MEMOIRS OF
never did, let me beseech you to read them over
with attention ; they are extremely cmious ; you
may find them in one of the volumes which I pub
lished about twelve or fourteen years ago. I
could wi-ite some mighty pretty notes and obser
vations upon that forged letter, if I were inclined
to such an amusement. The original letter which
was given by the Queen to the Countess of Suffolk,
who ga-\c it to Mr. Pope to inclose to the Doctor,
is still in my possession, and very carefully J shall
preserve it, I do assure you. In one word, Delany's
life and character, if it was wiitten by a man of
humour and genius, would make as droll, as
pretty, as comic, and as pleasant a figure as any
romantic story in Cervantes, in Rabelais, or in
¦the whole legend of Saints. Delany was certainly
an excellent scholar, as well as a man of taste and
imagination, and wrote in a good style ; and with
all those advantages he was a horrid bad rea
soner, and but an indifferent poet. His chief
talent, (always excepting hypocrisy, and the most
refined arts of dissimulation and flattery, wherein
perhaps he excelled all the human race,) was that
of writing an epigram, wherein I think he outshone
most of his contemporaries." *
Dr. Delany was a truly Irish character — kind,
' Nichols' Illustrations of Literature in the Eighteenth
Century, vol. v. p. 378.

LADY SUNDON. 77
humorous, liberal, but hot-headed and variable.
In literature, he was more diligent than judicious.
He was afflicted, and he afflicted others by an
inconvenient absence of mind — a characteristic
certainly not so common as it used to be. One
day, being appointed to preach at St. James,
before King George the Second, he entered Chapel
after prayers were begun, and not knowing where
to sit, planted himself by the side of the Reader,
in his desk. The Vesturer looked about, per
plexed, for the Preacher ; and, seeing a clergy
man in the desk, concluded that he must be the
man. Accordingly, he went to him, and piUled
him by the sleeve. The Doctor, angry at being
interrupted in his devotions, kicked the man, and
resisted the attack ; in vain was he entreated to
come out, as there was no text. Dr. Delany an
swered, that " he had a text;" — nor could he un
derstand the meaning of all this, until the
Reader told him he must go into the vestrj^, and
write out the text for the Royal closets. When
the Doctor came into the vestry, his hand
trembled, so that he could not write. Mrs.
Delany was sent for, but there was no paper at
hand; at last, the coVcr of a letter was found, and
Mrs. Delany wrote the text upon it, and sent it
up to the Royal family.

CHAPTER III.

State of parties in Ireland — The Bishop of Killala exercises
his influence in Dublin in favour of the Court — His descrip
tion of the Duke and Duchess of Dorset — Obsequiousness
ofthe Bishop — Baron Wainwright, and the vacancy in the
Common Pleas — Mrs. Clayton's criticism invited by the
Bishop of Killala — Baron Wainwright, and his verses —
Lord William Beauclerc — Observations on a recent
pamphlet — Three letters to the Bishop of Lichfield —
Ramsay's plan of education — The Excise — The people of
Bristol and the Administration.

CHAPTER III.
The letters of Dr. Clayton are cmious, as
giving a clear insight into the state of political
parties in Ireland, during a period in which
we have few other documents. Lord Carteret
had been exti-emely popular in Ireland; never
theless, the opinion of the Bishop of Killala
seems to have been much more favourable
towards the successor of that nobleman — wit
ness the following letter. The courtesy and good
nature of Lord Carteret were proverbial ; but,
perhaps, such qualities in a minister are hardly
compatible, at all times, with perfect sincerity.
The very detailed accounts of parties in Ire
land, which the letters in this correspondence
convey, were highly essential to the Government
at home. Ireland had but recently been ti-an-
quillized after the long struggle which succeeded
the Revolution of 1688. The Reformed Church,
established in that agitated country in 1535, had
VOL. II. G

82 MEMOIRS OF
never greatly flourished, and the great mass of
native Irish remained Roman Catholics. Tlie
three years' war, after the abdication of Jaines tlic
Second, had been a gaUant but hopeless struggle,
on the part of the Roman Catholics, to restore tlic
estates, formed by Elizabeth and James the First
into shire gi-ounds, to their old proprietors, and
was, in fact, only a revival of a similar attem])t
in 1641. The contest of 1688 was closed by the
battles of Aughrim and of the Boyne, and ex
tensive confiscations had ensued. The flower
of the Roman-Catholic party left the country, and
entered into foreign service, where they were dis
tinguished by their bravery. Those who remained
were ti-eated with the utmost severity ; yet, during
nearly a century, a period of ti-anquillity foUowed,
and in these favourable circumstances Lord Car
teret and the Duke of Dorset presided.
That the latent flame which has ever burned
in secret was not extinct, the Rebellion of 1798
mournfuUy proved. Meantime, a watchful eye
was directed to all that related to that country,
and the excitement of small factions seems to
have been substituted for the turbulence of insur
rections. This will be fully shown in the course
of Dr. Clayton's correspondence.

LADY SUNDON. 83
THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, September 28, 1731.
Madam,
I did intend to have done myself the honour
of writing to you before I left KiUala, but was
afraid of being troublesome with unnecessary
letters, when I had not variety to think I could be
entertaining. I came to town about four days after the arrival
of his Grace of Dorset, and, in obedience to your
commands, went the next morning to wait upon
Mr. Carew. I met him at the Lord Primate's,
who I got to introduce me to him, and the next
day I went again to see him, where he did me the
honour of mentioning yom- name. He is so taken
up at present, that I have not had many oppor
tunities of seeing him. However, I assured him,
that I would do all that lay in my power to make
the business he has undertaken as easy to him as
possible. I have a pretty numerous acquaintance
in. the House of Commons, and have spoke to
several of them already, and think everything will
go well. I was presented to the Duke of Dorset,
who received me very graciously, and inquired
after your health; I dined with him last Sunday.
Everything hitherto has been so much upon form,
that I have not had an opportunity of speaking to
him, but find that he has a good deal of humour
in his conversation. He lives very magnificently,
g2

84 MEMOIRS OF
and seems hitherto to be very acceptable to the
people. His tongue is not so lavish of promises,
nor his hand so full of squeezes, as the late Lord
Lieutenant ;* but I think, in tiie end, it wUl answer
better. I went to wait upon the Duchess, who re
ceived me vei-j' kindly, and inquired likewise after
your health. I hear fi-om the ladies, that she is
much more acceptable to them than Lady Car
teret. Her behaviour is with less hauteur ; it is
more polite, and less proud. The Parliament is
to meet next Tuesday; and when anything of
moment occurs, you may be sure of hearing from
me. In the meantime, I beg that you will believe
that I am, with the utmost gratitude.
Madam, Your most obedient,
humble seivant,
Rt. Killala.
My wife desires to join with me in presenting
our best services to you and Mr. Clayton.
The Bishop was certainly a model for suitors.
THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, May 18, 1731.
Madam, Having received an account from KUlala,
that the Dean of Killala has been taken very
suddenly ill of the gout in his stomach, and that
jt is uncertain whether he will recover or not, I
* Lord Carteret.

LADY SUNDON. 85
thought it my duty to inform you of it, that, as all
Deaneries are in the disposal of his Majesty-, you
might have the first notice, if there is any one that
you would have a mind to recommend to it. The
lirings which are at present in the Dean of Kil
lala's possession are worth about two hundred
pounds a year, of which eighty^ pounds belong to
the Deanery, and the remainder is in my dona
tion ; but as I hold my Bishopric from their
Majesties' benevolence to me, so I think it my
duty to let you know, that if either their Majesties
or Mrs. Clayton interfere in the nomination of
the person who is to succeed, I shall readily give
up my share of the patronage to the person
whomsoever it is that is appointed by their Ma
jesties. As this is a distemper which people either
soon die of or are as speedily recovered, I thought
it might not be improper to give you this infor
mation, because, that in case of his death, you
will have timely notice ; and in case of his re
covery, there will be no harm done, but the
trouble of your reading this letter. If I have a
certain account of his death, I shall write to you
immediately ; but if he should recover, I think I
need not give you an unnecessary trouble.
I propose setting out on Monday next for Kil
lala, and shall be a fortnight in my journey;
when I get half way", I am forced to lie at gentle
men's houses, there being no inns in that country
fit for one's reception. This makes the latter
part of the journey somewhat tedious ; but the

86 MEMOIRS OF
road tiU I get within sixteen miles of my own
house is incomparably good. My wife joins with
me in presenting our best services to you and Mr.
Clayton, who am Yom- most obliged
humble servant,
Rt. Killala.
.\mong the many singular correspondents and
confidants of Mrs. Clayton, was Judge Wain
wright ; and one of the first letters which we find
from him, related to the promotion which he
afterwards obtained, when he became one of the
Barons of the Exchequer in Ireland, chiefly, no
doubt, from her influence.
BARON WAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Lincoln's Inn, July 14, 1731.
Madam,
The vrill which 1 saw duly executed, and
which, in my opinion, is full to all intents and
purposes, and not liable to dispute, remains in
my custody, till I can deliver it into your Lady
ship's hands.
In your absence, a matter happened, which I
should have entirely submitted to your judgment
before any step was taken, had there been oppor
tunity ; as it is over, I now lay it before you, for
your approbation or reproof On Monday last,
upon the news of a vacancy in the Court of Com
mon Pleas in Ireland, Dr. Sayer offered me to

LADY SUNDON. 87
sound Mr. Carey, whether the Duke of Dorset was
engaged, and if not, to use his interest there for
me, and directed me to try whether my brother
Parsons would help me vrith Sir Robert. I went
to my brother, and he readily undertook to set
out for Norfolk, and made it his request. After I
had fixed him to set out next day. Dr. Sayer
sent me word that Mr. Carey had frankly owned
to him a scheme which the Duke had, inconsis
tent with the view he had for me. I immediately
sent a messenger to my brother, to stop his
journey; and though it should not be disposed
of according to the Duke's scheme, it wUl be
a satisfaction to me, that I did not think of
proceeding when his approbation was not to be
had. I hope, Madam, the momentary thought of a
cushion in Ireland was not so bad as the thought
of Bermuda; if I have en-ed, the Bishop of Killala
was in this the tempter, and his is the original
sin. He has often described to me how agreeable
such a situation might be, — that there was neither
too much leisure nor too much business ; that
both my profession and other studies, to which I
had been used, might be pursued ; that it was a
retfrement without idleness, and a recess with
some but not an envied dignity. These were his
speeches, and this accident of the vacancy hap
pening when your Ladyship, whom I shall always
look upon in the place of a guardian angel, was
away, I gave so far into the temptation as I have

88 MEMOIRS OF
mentioned. If I have been misled, pardon me,
and for the future, when I can have your direc
tion, I will not again go so fiir by myself I am,
with humble respect to Mr. Clayton,
Madam, Your most obliged,
humble servant,
J. Wainwright.
My Lord Chancellor was much out of order
yesterdays : some say it is a fever ; others, a para
lytic stroke. They say he is better.
A very amusing difficulty is started in the fol
lowing inquiry : —
THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, Dec. 29, 1731.
Madam,
I cannot omit this opportunity of writing to
you, by the hands of my Lord Duke's Private
Secretary, who goes over with some bUls from
this kingdom, that I may take occasion of assuring
you of my most sincere respects, and at the same
time send you a copy of my Sermon, which I
intend to preach on the 30th of January, being
appointed by the House of Lords to preach before
them that day. I send it to you thus early, that
I may have time enough to receive your com-
nlands whether you would have anything either
altered or added. I beg pardon for this trouble, but
J have that reason to depend upon the soundness

LADY SUNDON. 89-
of your judgment, and have had so many proofs
of your integrity and good will towards me on all
occasions, that I hold myself obliged to consult
you in everything that I apprehend may be of
the least consequence. Among the rest of your
observations, I must desire the favour of you to
let me know whether the word reign, at the latter
end of the sermon in part of the Queen's cha
racter, where I say we have reason to thank God
for having sent a Princess to reign over us, whether
that is a proper word or not ? As to King James,
the First, I have said nothing of him but what I
strictly collected out of the best histories ; and I
own that I am not unwilling to load him as much
as I can, not only because the truth demands it,
but also on account of his inhuman usage of that
branch of his family, from whence his present
Majesty is descended.*
I must likewise take this opportunity of retui-n-
ing you my thanks for all the favours which his
Grace of Dorset has been pleased to show me,
who has always taken particular notice of me ;
and was pleased this week to ask my wife and mc
to dine with him in private, which favours I can
place to no account but yours.
I must desire that you would make my excuse
to Mr. Clayton, for not writing oftener to him;
since it is not for want of respect, but out of fear
of being troublesome to him that I deny myself
* The family of Elizabeth of Bohemia.

90 MEMOIRS OF
that pleasure. My vrife joins in presenting her
service, along with, Madam, Your most obUged
and most obedient, humble servant,
Rt. Killala.
Tbe Baron, among his other attributes, was
ambitious to shine as a poet ; but in mercy to the
public, it has been deemed wiser to suppress most
of those effiisions which were inflicted on the
patient Mrs. Clayton.
BARON WAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, February 29, 1732.
Madam,
Nothing can be of too great value for me to
give, that you will accept, who have always made
friendship and generosity the only motives of
your kindness to me. But you have another title
to the head I send you — it came out of Bishop
Smallridge's family; therefore look upon it as
sent you by the Prebend of Worcester, as much
as by an Irish Judge. The Bishop of Killala's
lady's sister goes over in the spring ; I vriU send
it by her, and give you timely notice. I heard
the Bishop preach to-day, and was so much
pleased, that I wished you had been one of the
audience. Yesterday our business in the Exche
quer ended ; on Monday night, I go the circuit.
No business, no place, can keep me from thinking

lady sundon. 91
ofthe debts I owe you, and I shall hardly be silent
for a whole month.
I understand both the Dukes are very good to
me. I excused myself to the Duke of Dorset in
a letter from hence, for not going to Knowle, by
saying, I thought the greatest respect I could pay
his Grace was by a speedy and diligent attend
ance in my post, and I have endeavoured to make
it good. The fear of disparaging the recommen
dations I had, is a spur to my industry. I heartily
rejoice that (as Dr. Friend* says, and I agree)
the only person you could have thought of,
pleased ; I own I have a pride and a deUght in
it. What we wished, and could not be, is a con
cern to me, not for his sake but theirs, to whom I
am bound by ties that are often sti-onger, at least
warmer, than those of duty. It would have been
an acquisition of hearts worth having, and would
have carried higher and further in life, what was
happily begun lower, and in more tender years.
You will think me a little wild, when I say,
that if it had been begun by him, and I had been
thought worthy, I, rather than it should have
dropped, would have changed the course of my
life, and have quitted a better post to have carried
it on. Do not look upon me to be too extravagant;
call this by no worse a name than a bishop did
the exercises at Westminster school — a good verse
loyalty. I defy any man to write verse who does
not write from his heart. That he may write
* Dr. Friend, an eminent physician and philosopher.

92 MEMOIRS OF
prose well, when his words are not from his heart,
he himself has shown, or else his heart is double.
I see by the prints. Dr. Friend's works are pub
Ushed. \^Tietiier the world will have the same
sentiments of the dedication I have, is a doubt ;
but I again say to you, I think it is as good to
the fidl as the finest piece of the best oiator in
the world upon the greatest subject — I mean,
Cicero's oration for Marcellus, which is a pane
gyric upon Julius Coesar, and these two are the
only truly good panegyrics that ever were made
in the world ; the rest that we have are puerUe in
comparison. I am.
Ever honoured Madam,
your true and humble servant,
J. Wainwright.
I will find a time to bind up my sheafs ; I am
sure Mr. C. will think himself happy if he can
serve Mr. D. The picture will make Ireland all
fast. England at least a copy of it.
The following epistle contains an opinion which
is singularly candid, in a Divine ofthe Established
Church : —
DR. alured CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bath, February 19, 1732.
Honoured Madam,
I am very much obliged to you for taking
the tiouble of my money, which I wUl order into
your hands as soon as it is ready; and I leave it

LADY SUNDON. 93
entirely to you to put it out, when, and in what
manner, you may think best. I had talked with
the Archbishop several times about the Bishop,
before I received your directions, and can assure
you he had a favourable impression of the Bishop
made upon him, for he speaks well of him, and
I can easily perceive that the Bishop has been
adroit enough in his inanner of behaviour to his
Grace. Yesterday there were some hopes of Lord
William Beauclerc, fi-om an interval of under
standing which they had seen nothing of for some
days before ; but to day he is relapsed, and we
expect to hear of his death every hour.
I have been in great hopes of seeing Dr. Friend
here for a week past, and am now afraid I shall
hardly see him before I return to Bristol, for I
have been here almost a fortnight, and want much
to get rid of the next four or five weeks, which I
hope will give me breath enough to carry me to
Winchester, and so on to London, in April.
I have read a pamphlet, called The Main Argu
ment of a Late Book, entitled, " Christianity as old
as the Creation, fairly stated and examined ; or a
Short View of that whole Conti'oversy\'' It has
given me a great deal of satisfaction, and done
me good. I have not read anything so unexcep
tionable upon this subject, and I am persuaded
you will be of the same mind, if you have leisure
to read it. It is wiitten by a young Dissenting
Teacher in this country, who has not name enough

94 memoirs of
to promote a sale of the book, or to raise a sub
stantial cry amongst the divines of any sort. If
the Dissenters improve, and we — in proportion to
what we have experienced of late— they wiU soon
be masters of the field in controversy, and will
be a much more considerable body of men, with
out money, and without dignities, than an army
of men that derive their credit from preferments
and not from themselves, and so bring all the dis
honour they can upon the Royal patronage.
I am very glad to hear by my fiiend Stephen,
that Mr. Clayton and you are so well recovered
from the new colds. I was seized with it very
lightly about a fortnight ago, but have almost
got rid of it, and I think I have little to com
plain of, except weakness and shortness of breath,
which a warm spring will probably mend.
In a sixpenny pamphlet, called " Three Letters
to the Bishop of Liclifield and Coventry," Sec, con
cerning quakeries, there is a letter prefixed to
her Majesty, which you will be entertained with,
though it is not wiitten in a masterly way.
I have nothing more to add, but that I am, with
true zeal. Most honoured Madara,
your ever obliged
and devoted humble seivant,
Alured Clarke.
It is surprising to see so few letters addressed
to Mrs. Clayton of a political character ; but the

LADY SUNDON. 95
history of England, at this period, is peculiarly
uninteresting. Debates recurred year after year
on the same subjects, and the same arguments
were annually repeated ; ti-ade, as well as in
tellect, languished, and no sort of traffic throve,
says SmoUett, but that of Change-alley, where the
most abominable frauds were practised, and every
session of Parliament opened a new scene of
villany and oppression.
Something like a sirailar spirit pervaded Church
affairs — a laraentable insincerity and trimming is
disclosed by many of these letters ; and though
we admire the benevolence and disinterestedness
of Dr. Alured Clarke, he was, by no means, we
cannot but obsei-ve, what we should deem an
orthodox divine. To profess publicly a certain
set of opinions, and to cherish privately another,
may be the effect of circurastances, but must be
considered as a demoralization.
The foUovring epistle refers more peculiarly to
Ramsay's plan of education : —
DR. ALURED CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bristol, Jan. 21, 1732.
Most Honoured Madam,
Though I take a sincere delight in writing to
you, the way of life I am in makes me at a loss to
know how to make a letter worth your looking

96 memoirs of
into. If you have not read the enclosed, they will
not come amiss, because I think the sennon has
something peculiai- and artful, and something also
that looks like inti-oducing the old unintelligible
jargon of the schools. I have sent a saraple of
all three. The author has certainly no settled
notions of the subject he thinks fit, without any
call, to publish his thoughts upon ; and I think it
is enough to send you two or three of his sen
tences as a proof. I am afraid his new station
wUl not mend him in these matters, and am more
afi-aid, for the honour of my superiors, that he
will not answer any one of their purposes ; for
though I believe he is a very good scholar, he has
not that sort of learning which a Westminster
society ought to have at the head of them, and I
have no doubt that a very little time will show
that he was neither made for the place, nor the
place for hira.
I should have taken some notice of Ramsay's
plan of education, but he has been so much about
the Court, that it must have been long ago in
your hands. The performance is very fine and
shadowy; but as no Prince ever had such an
education, our comfort is, there is no danger of it
for the time to come. For a Prince that expects
to be fiUed with pure and intellectual influency
from above, would make sad havoc among his
people in some of his hotter fits of enthusiasm.
The author tells us what we are to expect, in the
first sentence or two, by saying, that our spiritual

LADY SUNDON. 97
nature ought to perform the different functions of
the philosopher, the painter, and the lover.
But the most free and easy sentence is, that
the principles of Sir Isaac Newton may he reduced to
a few Propositions ; all the rest are hut fine silk loehs,
spun from the prolific hrain of that surprising genius,
or perhaps DEFECTS OF METHOD, perspicuity, and
elegance, which the most part ofprofound men seldom
or never apply themselves to.
The business of religion and the Test Act is
quite dropped amongst us, and the Excise is now
the private and public care. We have had daily^
meetings among our citizens ; and though this is
one of the best affected places in England, yet
they begin to be almost united in this affair, and
the Jacobites and Tories work day and night in
warning the people's minds, and are now try ing
to make it odious for any citizen, though no way
concerned, to refuse to set his name to the peti
tions that are framed for the pm-pose. I wish
this petitioning, remonstrating spfrit, which can
be so easily raised upon surmises, &c., may not
be attended with bad consequences, for it never
y-et produced any good ones.
As to the people of Bristol, their fiiendship for
the administration depends upon the profit they
draw from it, which they afterwards weigh in
scales of their own making ; and the prayer they"
teach their children is the same the heathen sung
to Jupiter: —
" Great Father ! grant us virtue, grant us wealth ;
VOL. II. H

98 MEMOIRS OF LADY SUNDON.
for virtue without wealth exerts less power, and
less diffuses itself. Then grant us, gracious !
vu-tue, and wealth, for both are of thy hand."
I beg my humble services to Mr. Clayton, and
am, with my sincerest wishes for your health.
Honoured Madam,
Your ever obliged and
devoted humble servant,
Alured Clarke.
The famous Excise Bill, which had succeeded
the Test Act as the fashionable topic of the day,
was devised by Sir Robert Walpole for the se
curity and improvement of the revenue charged
on tobacco and wines. It excited the most
violent indignation, and was regarded by the
Opposition as an invasion of the liberties of the
country. Sir Robert's plan was, in effect, to join
the laws of excise to those of the customs ; thus
to simplify the system, and to prevent frauds
and inconveniences. The House was completely
sun-ounded during the debate, and a crowd of
those whom Sir Robert Walpole called sturdy
beggars— 2. e., merchants interested in obstructing
the scheme, thronged all the passages. The Bill
was lost, and the Minister burned in effigy.
Dr. Clarke continued, with unabated zeal, to
favour Mrs. Clayton with his correspondence, full
evidence of which will be found in the following
chapters.

CHAPTER IV.

Dr. Friend — Manufactures in metals — A reverend Consul —
Standing forces — Dr. Clarke's new house at Winchester —
Lord Lymington — Lord Drumlanrig — Mask from the
face of Henry the Seventh — Dr. Friend's dedication — A
new poem by Stephen Duck — Controversy of Drs. Water-
land and Pearse — Dr. Middleton — Mandeville's Book of
Honour — Hogarth — Dr. Clarke's verses on the Queen's
Hermitage — ^Bacon on Gardens — Alarming illness of Dr.
Clarke — Lord and Lady Lymington's considerate conduct
towards him — Lord John Kussell's duel — Dr. Clarke's
opinion of duelling — Extraordinary case of murder and
suicide — Book on the genuineness of St. Matthew's Gos
pel — Discovery of a medicinal spring.

H

CHAPTER IY.
DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bristol, January 6, 1732.
Honoured Madam,
I received a letter frora Dr. Friend this
morning, and should have been in great pain to
have heard of your illness, if I had not had the
good news, at the same time, of your being in a
good measure recovered from it. It would be the
highest pleasure to your friends to see you in a
more certain and settled state of health than you
generally enjoy ; but everything here is puzzled
with mazes and perplexed with errors.
I am sorry poor Dr. Friend has so much reason
to coraplain, and am told, from two hands at
Westminster, that he has thoughts of resigning
his charge. I hope, for his own sake, it is true ;
for if it be not always the wisest thing a man can
do to consult his own ease, I am sure it is so
when age or infirmities has brought us near the
end of our scuffle. As soon as I hear of his being
come to Bath, I will certainly raake hira a visit, if
I mend in any proportion as I have done for
some tirae past. I find the moon has a very
sensible influence upon me, in comraon with mad

102 memoirs of
folks, and therefore am forced to bleed at the
change, for fear the vein should open again,
which would probably be fatal ; but as my consti
tution of mind does not incline me to feel Uls
before they come, I do not suffer by any apprehen
sions of what may be.
A very considerable merchant of this city-
having made rae an obliging tender of his ac
quaintance, I have been pretty much employed of
late in examining the whole process of making
copper, brass, lead, which ai-e the main branches
of the trade of this city to Afiica, &c. And if I
cannot recover breath enough to live in my native
counti-y, and it should be necessary for me to go
into a warmer climate, it is possible I may get
so much insight into the African trade as may
qualify me for his Majesty's Consul at Algiers,*
unless the commotions thereabouts shall have
made the country too hot to hold anybody that
can keep out of it.
Our Dissenters here are not yet let into the
secret of their brethren's giving up the cause of
the Test above. They are a good deal out of
humour, but say little. The Quakers are gene
rally pleased that the scheme is laid aside, either
because they expect no advantage at any time
from it, or, as I rather think, because they were
* The notion of a Reverend Doctor being made a Consul at
Algiers, sounds to us strange ; but is not more strange than
that, after the death of Sir Isaac Newton, the Mastership of
the Mint should be offered to the Reverend Dr. Samuel
Clarke, who refused it.

LADY SUNDON. 103
afraid they should have been left to themselves
if the Test was taken off. But we are so well
affected here, that alraost everybody is exaspe
rated with the last Craftsman about standing
forces ;* and we have so little notion of the
danger of the present number, that we never
think oui-selves safe in tliis city without the con
stant guard of a whole regiment; for being in
the neighbourhood of several thousand colliers,
they are (and have often showed themselves to
be) our masters the moraent we are left without
our standing defence.
I suppose Lord Lymington left London to-day,
and wish his journey may be attended -with suc
cess, which I think is much to be feared fr-om
many circumstances that have concurred to sink
an interest that has been a match for the other
side, supported by a Tory administration.
I beg my humble service to Mr. Clayton, and,
with my wishes and prayers for your perfect re
covery, remain, Ever honoured Madam,
Your most obliged,
most devoted humble servant,
A. Clarke.
* During the previous year, 1731, a debate had taken
place in the House of Commons concerning the number of
the land forces. The Whigs were in favour of continuing a
large standing army, the Tories against it. Lord Morpeth,
Sir Watkin Williams Wynne, Sir William Wyndham, and
others, opposed Sir Robert Walpole and Lord Hervey, who
was the invariable creature of the Minister, who gained his
point. — SmoUett.

104 memoirs of
dr. clarke to mrs. clayton.
Winchester, April 4, 1732.
Honoured Madam,
You put me in full enjoyment last night by
your obliging letter, and the good account of your
health, which I pray God continue. And I per
suade myself you know me too well to think I
mean, by troubling you with my letters, to lay
a tax upon your tirae, which would not serve your
own private concerns, if your friends were allowed
to have the management of it. And therefore I
will hope all is well when I hear nothing, and
that I shall have a line from Mrs. Ravenshaw if it
should be otherwise.
I continue to be very busy in fitting up my new
house, and hope I shall have some pleasure in it,
though you must allow me to say that my, Hamp
shire enjoyments are very much lessened since
the good fortune of my acquaintance in Cleveland
Court ; and as soon as I am settled enough to leave
my house without inconvenience, I shall want to
hear of the instalment at Westminster.
Another thing that gives me sorae ti-ouble is,
that I am afraid I am more out in my reckoning
this year than ordinary, and that I shall not be
able to put any money into your hands this twelve
months, for I have found so many new articles of
expense in this fine house, to fit it up in a toler
able uniform manner, that I durst not stretch my
credit so far as to touch my best apartment this
year, so that if I have the honour of seeing Lady

LADY SUNDON. 105
Russel here, we raust make shift without a di-ess-
ing room. And I design in a fortnight to write
ray Lord word that I ara in as much order to
receive him as I can afford to be this year.
Lord Lymington dare not come hither, because
of the small-pox, but as I must be at my parish
next Friday and Sunday, I shall see him in a day
or two. He has sent to me two or three times,
and I hear from aU hands that he is mighty well,
and thought his London journey had done him a
deal of good. Lord Drumlanrig was taken ill of
the small-pox Sunday morning, on which an ex
press was sent to London to the Duke of Queens-
bury, and they came hither yesterday. The child
is like to do very well.
It is a very fine season with us in this country,
and it has rained now a day and a night almost
incessantly, which will raise our springs that were
exceeding low. I am glad Mr. Conduit and his
lady are in such high honour, and hope they have
some great entertainment in view for thefr country
neighbours, for they are buUding the feUow to
thefr fine room in town, at their house near this
place, and are raising their works so fast that we
little folks can get no bricks till they are sup
plied. I desire my humble service to good Mr. Clay
ton, and am. Ever honoured Madam,
Your most obliged,
and devoted humble servant,
A. Clarke.

106 memoirs of
The egregious flattery of the following letter
must elicit a smile :
BARON wainwright TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, October 13, 1732.
Madam, Upon opening my goods I found among the
rest the mask that was taken frora the face of
Henry the Seventh, and immediately considered
it could nowhere be more properly placed than
in the Hall at London, among the great and wise.
I think it an admirable piece of work, and if you
give leave will send it by the first safe convey
ance. Could I have my vrish, that Hall should
not be forgot whUst the Hermitage is remembered,
but the recess should be known in which you de
Ughted. It wUl be great pleasure to hear that
Dr. Friend's works are near being published. I
long to have the dedication appear in the world ;
it must fill all who have a taste of style and ora
tory with the highest admiration of the man who
coidd \mte it. I wiU venture to say that if TuUy
had wrote such a dedication of Hippocrates to
Julius Csesar, the performance and the panegyric
would have been as like as the subject and the
authors, and he whom Shakespeare styles the
greatest man that ever flourished in the tide of
time, would have been pleased with that praise
which is justly given to thefr Majesties; as it is,
I insist upon it none can understand or test the
dedication fully, without reading the famed oration

LADY SUNDON. 107
for MarceUus, and weighing the dedication with
it, an experiment that no other panegyrist that
ever I read could bear ; this I shall say to the
Duke of Newcastle, who laid his coraraands upon
me to -write to him, but not before the book is
published. If you approve of the letter I send
with this, you wUl be pleased to forward it to
J. F., by haring it put into the post ; it flows from
a source of gratitude that will last while I Uve,
and ara. Madam, Your obliged, humble servant,
J. Wainwright.
My hurable respects to Mr. Clayton; and if
you please to let the Duke of Dorset know I ara
sensible he has done better for rae than I pro
posed for myself here, the acknowledgraent will
be made with advantage.
DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Winchester, April 22, 1732.
Honoured Madam,
I was unluckily prevented writing last post,
or should have taken the first opportunity of
acknowledging the receipt of Stephen's * poera,
under Mr. Clayton's cover; it has given every
body here great pleasure, and I dare say he wUl
lose no credit by it at London: I was a good deal
surprised at the first sight of it, but was satisfied
* Stephen Duck.

108 memoirs of
by the first line of his letter, which assured me
that he had printed it with your approbation ;
and I had another very agreeable post-night
yesterdays, by the Bishop of Salisbury's letter,
which says you are improved in your health by
your two waitings, from which your friends have
always had reason to be in fear for you, but I
hope our fears will now be at a great distance.
I have had a new book of Dr. Middleton's sent
me hither, which I mention, because I think you
read his former pieces, which made so much
noise in the world — his letter to Dr. Wateiiand,*
* Dr. Waterland, to whose controversy with Dr. Middle-
ton Dr. Alured Clarke refers in this and the next letter, was
an able assertor of the doctrine of the Trinity. He took
pupils at Cambridge, and wrote a work called " Advice to a
Young Student, with a method of study for four years." Dr.
Waterland, when he was made a Bachelor of Divinity, took
for his thesis — "Can Arian Subscription be lawful?" One
singular result followed his thesis ; Dr. Samuel Clarke omit
ting, in the second edition of his " Scripture Doctrine," the
foUovring words : " It is plain that a man may reasonably
agree to such forms (of subscription to the thirty-nine Arti
cles) whenever he can in any way reconcile them to Scrip
ture." After the publication of Dr. Waterland's thesis. Dr.
•Clarke always refused subscription.
Dr. Waterland's controversial works were numerous, and
were very able and effective. His dislike to Arianism was so
great, that he was said to have been disposed to Arminianism.
An immense extent of reading, without confusion, is visible
in his works. " His head," observed the Reverend Jeremiah
Teed, in his funeral sermon, " was an immense library, where
the treasures of learning were ranged in such exact order,
that whatever himself or his friends wanted he could have

LADY SUNDON. 109
and defence. This is an answer to Dr. Pearse,
under the title of "Remarks on a Reply to the
Defence of the Letter to Waterland ;" and I be
lieve was intended at the sarae time to qualify
the heats that have been raised against him in the
University of Cambridge ; but I think it is very
indifferently calculated for that purpose, for he
still supposes, as in the former, that the Jewish
Government was not a Theocracy, (governed ira
mediately by God,) but only made, or pretended
so, by Moses, and consequently that this conduct
of Moses was resolvable into a sort of political
fiction for the good of the people. And though
he has great advantage over Dr. Pearse, as an able
and lively writer, I doubt he has recourse to a
very disingenuous manner of quoting his authors,
which any one that sees the liberties he takes in
some places, will easily suspect in many more.
However, towards the conclusion, he seeras de
sirous of reconciling the gentlemen of the uni
versity to him, by appearing to declare his whole
opinion, and dropping some of the most offensive
things that had brought the storm upon him, and
sums up all that he says he has affirmed in the
dispute, in four particulars: —
immediate recourse to, without embarrassment." Zealous,
but not temperate, he was by no means the mildest of contro
versialists. Dr. Middleton's principles are well known. " Though, as
he was my godfather," writes Mrs. Montagu, " you may sup
pose I have read his 'Evangelist' with great veneration; I
cannot find much solid comfort in a doctrine without promise."

110 memoirs of
1. That the Jews borrowed some of thefr cere
raonies and customs from Egypt.
•2. That the Egyptians were in possession of
arts and learning in Moses' tirae.
3. That the primitive writers, in order to vindi
cate the Scriptures, thought it necessary in some
cases to recur to allegory.
4. That the Scriptures are not of absolute and
universal inspiration.
If you have not seen the book, I believe the
last twenty-five pages wiU entertain you very well,
the rest being either a repetition of what he writ
before, or a mere strife about the sense of passages
which had been pretty largely examined on both
sides. I have just run over Dr. Mandeville's (author of
the fable of the Bees) Book of Honour, which was
published this last winter, and is indeed the work
of a very odd genius. He says honour and virtue
are both of human invention, and that honour
which came last into the world is the best of the
two — i. e., the most serviceable — that it came ori
ginally frora the Northern barbarian nations, and
that it was unknown in the polite ages of Greece
and Rome, and was invented to supply the defect
of religion in the minds of men ; that it is neces
sary to have an order of clergy to huraour as well
as to awe the people, but that in times of war it is
impossible to be a good Christian and a good
soldier — that a peaceful disposition and humUity
are not qualities more promising in the day of

LADY SUNDON. Ill
battle than a contiite heart and broken spirit are
preparatives for fighting ; that the doctrines of
Christ do not teach men to fight any more than to
paint. And that if repentance was preached
amongst military men, soldiers would be in dan
ger of being spoiled by it, and rendered unfit for
their business. He is very plain with the clergy,
and declaims against their revenues, teanslations,
worldly grandeur, and laughs at Apostles in
coaches and six. He proposes exemplariness of
life, and sanctity of manners as a remedy against
the growth of Popery; yet fears the Bench of
Bishops would not thank him for the prescription,
but think it an attempt to cure the patients by
bUsteiing the physicians, and with most Protestant
dirines the remedy would be worse than the
disease. It is probable this gentleman may be a favourite
author with the town, though I am surprised he
should be so much in the confidence of a great
man who is ambitious of pattonizing men of worth
and learning, unless he is capable of mistaking
low humour and drollery for fine vrit.
And now, Madam, if these two books have come
in your way before, you will be so good as to ex
cuse my inclination to be vrith you as much as I
can, or in some measure to think myself so, whilst
I am filling up a sheet of paper ; and I have the
less scruple about writing so much, because I am
sure I must have conrinced you by my forraer
letters, that they will keep cold, and need not take

112 MEMOIRS OF
off your attention if they should come into y^our
hands at an improper time. I have received a
present fr-om the author of " An Inquiry into the
Eridences of Chiistian Religion, by a Lady," whom
I suppose to be a clergyman's wife, and will send
you some account of it when I have read it, if I
think it worth entertaining you with.
Mr. Conduit came into this country with Sir
Andrew Fountain for two days in Easter-week,
but I did not see him. I am told he is going to
have a conversation-piece drawn by Hogarth, of
the youngpeople of quality that acted at his house;
and if I am not mistaken he hojpes to have the
honour of the Royal part of the audience in the
picture. And I doubt not the painter's genius
will find out a proper place for Miss Conduit.
I spent this day se'nnight with Lord Lyming
ton, who kept a double festival at his house, it
being his own birthday as well as the Duke's.
He and his lady are both in good health and
spirits, and desired me to make their best compli
ments to you and Mr. Clayton. When I have got
a little clear of my workmen I intend to go thither
for three or four days. I have just writ to Lord
Russell to acquaint him that in a week I shall be
in as much order as I can propose to myself this
year, and therefore hope Lady Russell and he will
give rae the honour of their company pretty soon,
because I intend to go to London just before the
instalment, so that I ara apt to think they wUl be
here quickly, if she ,has not altered her mind about

LADY SUNDON. 1L3
the journey. I beg my humble service to Mr.
Clayton, and am always.
Ever honoured Madam,
Your most devoted humble servant,
A. Clarke.
Winchester, October 21, 1732.
Most Honoured Madam,
As I think myself exteemely obliged to you,
for the Uberty you give me of writing, I do not
know whether I can make an excuse with any pro
priety for neglecting my own pleasure. But though
I have been very much eraployed this last fort
night, I can never be at a loss to find tirae to write
to such a friend, if one could have the heart to do
it without any materials of entertainment. But I
think that reason would not do now, for I am much
mistaken if the inclosed copy of verses do not give
you as much pleasure as I have had from them.
They are come warm out of the author's hands,
and have not yet been once copied, and have only
been seen by two persons of very good taste and
judgraent. If they have the good fortune to be
approved by you, and you tiiink it proper, you will
do rae the honour of presenting them with my
humble duty to her Majesty. For when I found
a very commendable spirit gone abroad of paying
due compliments to a Princess that has shown a
peculiar love of uncommon merit, by the honour
she has done to the memory of the worthy dead,
I was very desirous of making one in the list of
VOL. II. I

114 memoirs OF
such grateful admfrers. How to do it without
poeti-y I could not tell, and at last it came into my
head that though I was too weak to do the office
myself, I might ^wrf. For I beUeve if I was a great
man, the greatest pleasure I could propose to my
self would be to have the best artificers of science
in every kind, to work for me. If there be any
mistakes in the description of the Hermitage, they
are owing to the imperfect account I gave the
author of it, having not seen it myself since it was
quite finished. And if there be no tall ti-ees there
abouts, we are beholden to another author for
planting them in his Latin copy of verses, from
whence we took them. And thus I leave the paper
in your hands to be entirely used at your own
discretion. Some time ago I was observing to you, that the
ptesent taste of gardening was in a great measure
formed upon such a sort of model as my Lord
Bacon had laid down above a hundred years ago,
though it never obtained authority amongst us tiU
of late ; and that, considering how great and uni
versal his genius was allowed to be, this remark
inferred a high compliment upon the present age.
And as I lately met -srith the passages I meant, I
cannot fUl up my paper better than with some
of them." A man shall ever see that when ages grow to
civiUty and elegancy, men come to buUd stately,
soon then to garden finely, as if gardening were
the greater perfection. I do hold it that in the

LADY SUNDON. 115
Royal ordering of gardens, there ought to be gar
dens for all the raonths in the year, in which
severally things of beauty raay be then in season.
" Gardens — speaking of those which are Prince-
like — ought to be divided into three parts ; a
green in the entrance, a heath or desert in the
going forth, and the main garden in the raidst.
For the ordering of the ground within the great
hedge, I leave it to the variety of device, advising
nevertheless, that whatsoever forra you cast it into
ffrst, it be not too busy, or full of work ; wherein
I do, for ray part, not like iraages cut out in
juniper or other garden stuff: they are for chUdren.
Little low hedges, round like belts, I like well.
"I would also have the alleys spacious and
fair. You may have closer alleys upon the side
grounds, but none in the main garden. I wish
also in the very middle a fair mount, with three
ascents, and alleys enough for four to walk
abreast, which I would have to be perfect circles,
without any bulwarks or erabossraents, and the
whole mount to be thirty foot high; and some fine
banqueting-house, with some chimneys neatly
cast, and without too much glass."
I am, ever honoured Madam,
Your raost obliged,
devoted humble servant,
A. Clarke.
The following touching letter from Dr. Clarke
is a beautiful commentary upon a good man's
I 2

116 memoirs of
emotions when in imminent danger, which came
suddenly upon him : —
DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Winchester, November 4, 1732.
Honoured Madam,
I am very much obliged to you for your kind
inquiry after me, aud will give you the best
account I can, though I ara so weak you must
excuse the broken, imperfect manner I am able
to do it in. Thursday fortnight I preached a
sermon upon an annual feast, which cost rae more
spfrits than I ought to have spent; and after
serraon, I walked through the streets in the pro
cession whilst 1 was warra, into a large old room,
that I believe never has a fire in it, where a large
corapany of us dined. I am apt to think the cold
I catched that day, occasioned the sudden eruption
of blood on Monday, though my blood raust have
been out of order sorae time, for I have long com
plained of unusual weariness and lassitude, (for I
never could allow myself to call it laziness,) and,
particularly when I was making ray Feast Sermon
that week, began to think there was more sense
in Dr. Woodward's scheme than the world would
allow, and that it would be necessary for me to
have recourse to evacuations before I ventured on
the making of any new compositions.
I was at church Monday morning, when a
cough seized me without any warning, or any ap-

LADY SUNDON. 117
prehension I had of bleeding, and in a minute I
found rayself in so rauch danger of being choked,
that it was difficult for rae to get horae. I had
eight ounces of blood taken from rae, and, in less
than an hour, saw ten ounces in basins, besides
what gushed from me at church and on my way
home. By this time my house was ftiU of doctors
and apothecaries, everybody sending then- own,
and my own servants not so much in their senses
as rayself; and whilst I had all this help, fell into
another fit, which brought more blood, and pro
moted a shortness of breath so fast, with an uni
versal cold, clammy sweat, that my doctors thought
it the very stroke of death, and I am afraid I shall
never meet it more easily than I could have done
then; for though the sudden change from health
to an imraediate hazard of losing one's life shocked
me at first, yet, when I came to examine myself,
and could not find one reason, not even to cheat
myself with, why I should not die then as well as
at another time, I became so composed and re
signed, that I think this one experience has made
more than amends for my illness. I found, also,
that this world had no hold upon me but my
friends, though I think I did not want this trial ;
for it is very long since I can remember any great
pleasure I ever took in any other enjoyment of
any kind.
Another cfrcumstance dwelt upon my mind very
much in that hour, which is, what we court and
bow down to in om- health, we do not so much as

118 MEMOIRS OF
waste a thought upon at the approaches of death
— that riches, honom-s, erapfres, &c., being said to
be Ughter than vanity itself, are rather valued too
much by having any value set upon them, and
that it would be exceeding mortifying to great
people to know that every good man on the bed
of sickness has them no raore in his thoughts
than if they were the blanks of the creation. But I
must not moralise ; not for your sake, because I
have always desfred rather to learn of you ; nor
for my own sake, because my head and ray hand
are both too weak at present.
Lord and Lady Lymington were here in a few
hours after my iUness, though they had not come
near the town in two years for the small-pox ;
but they kept themselves incog, from me above a
day, that I might not be surprised, and shut
themselves up in the house vrith me till Thursday
last, by which means they kept all company from
me, and kept me quiet. This was such an in
stance of friendship, that I ara not yet recovered
enough to think of it vrithout too rauch eraotion ;
and, indeed, my neighbours throughout the city
have expressed such a general concern for me,
that I hope it cannot be very faulty to indulge
one's self in the satisfaction of finding that, in
the whole, one has behaved acceptably for so
many years, amidst a great raajority of people of
very different turns of mind.
I am going to Bristol as soon as it is possible
to get thither, where I must stay tUl Midsummer,

LADY SUNDON. 119
and though I think it is hardly possible for me to
be restored, I think it is right to act as if one
believed it. I have had the opinions of several
physicians above, and have inclosed you Dr.
Burton's, which his brother sent for, because it
seeras to be the simplest and most masterly. I
beg the favour of you to let Mr. Harris write me
out a receipt for making pulled chicken, though I
do not know whether I shall be allowed to go so
far these three months.
This is my first letter, and I have been these
two days writing it by piece-meals. I -wish I
could convince you before I went out of the world,
that you never served a more grateful nor a raore
sincere person ; for let there be never so much
vanity in it, I wiU go on to say it as long as I can
say anything. You never showed your regards
to one that has loved and honoured you beyond
what he ever thought fit to say to you, for the
station you are in is a most unhappy one with
regard to your true fiiends, who are incapable of
giving you those undoubted proofs which an
honest mind raust be in constant pain to give you.
But I must go no farther now.
I am, ever honoured Madam,
Your most obliged,
devoted humble servant,
A. Clarke.
I hope you have received the verses on the
Queen's Hermitage.

120 MEMOIRS OF
DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CL.4YT0N.
Winchester, May 6, 1732.
Most Honoured Madam,
I had great pleasure in healing frora Lady
Herbert, who is come to Hursbourne, that she
saw you in good health a few days ago, which I
cannot help being solicitous to know by one means
or other. I received a letter last night fi-om Lord
John RusseU, by which I am apt to think he wUl
not come into Hampshire before I take my Hunt
ingdonshire jom-ney ; and if you can give any
guess what part of the sumraer you shall be able
to spend at Sundon, I shall be very rauch obliged
to you for the notice, that I may order my matters
so as to have the pleasure of waiting upon you
for a fortnight, in one part of my journey or
other. Last week Lord John Russell wrote Lord Lym
ington a particular account of his duel, out of the
great inclination he has to stand well with his
Hampshire friends ; but I am very sorry to hear
from another hand, that there is reason to appre
hend the quarrel is not healed yet. One would
think the ways of destruction were but few, and
that men were hai-d put to it to find them, before
they could think of sacrificing themselves to the
shadow of honour and the silly tyranny of custom ;
and I question whether in many cases that might
be mentioned, duelling is not more unjustifiable
than self-murder, of which the raost reraarkable

LADY SUNDON. 121
instance I have heard, is the late case of the
bookseller and his wife, of which a gentleraan
(who was curious enough to go and examine into
all the particulars) sent me a large account.
It seems the man was a great disputer in reli
gious raatters, and passed among those of his own
rank for an Atheist. They spent their last night
at a neighbouring alehouse, very cheerful and
easy. They had been exact to a nicety in dis
charging thefr little debts as fast as they could,
just before, and before they died, spent some time
in nailing up a curtain between them, that they
might not see each other's dismal preparations for
death. Take it altogether — that a man and his^
wife should coolly and deliberately reason them
selves into such a resolution, especially to take
away the life of an innocent child they were ex
treraely fond of — that after they had despatched
the child, they should go on to execute the rest
of the bloody purpose, is strange beyond concep
tion. I find there is a book published at London, con
ceming the genuineness of St. Matthew's Gospel,
which I have not seen here, but ara infoi-raed it
comes frora the sarae quarter as " Christianity as
old as the Creation." It is grounded on the
Bishop of London's defence of the Canon of
Scriptm-e, which being built on the coraraon-place
proofs that Christians have been satisfied with for
many ages, this author has revived the ancient
objections, that he thinks his Lordship either has

122 memoirs OF
not considered or not removed, and pretends that
his Lordship's weak and general defence has
raised many scruples, which, out of his great regard
to Christianity, he hopes his Lordship -will con
sider over again.
A piece of news of another nature that we have
here, is a discovery of a spiing at West Aston,
near Holt in Somersetshu-e, that can do raore
wonders than either the Bath or Holt waters.
The owner, Mr. Beach, digging a well for his
own use, employed a labourer who had had a sore
leg some years, and being surprised to find his
leg so much better the first day, and stiU better
the second day of working, began to imagine it
might be the water, and was soon after assured of
it by farther experience ; afterwards other lame
people in the neighbourhood tried it with the
same success, and they have already got cures
upon record to open shop with. Mr. Beach has
been offered a considerable rent for it, but chooses
to enjoy the estate hiraself, and is building lodg
ings as fast as he can for the reception of the sick.
How much of this is ttue I cannot venture to say,
though I have it from a very worthy person who
lives no great distance from the place.
We have had great rains for some time past,
which -wiU probably make all our farmers rich,
for it is the misfortune of the country to be made
happy in such years as are very bad for most part
of the kingdom, and we cannot help showing our
joy on the prospect of ruining our neighbours.

LADY SUNDON. 123
And if one was to tell them that moderate years
were best for the whole, and that every par
ticular man ought to be most pleased with what
was most for the good of the whole, it woidd be
thought strange divinity, and a man would pass
his time but ill in a Hampshire parish, for we
like moderation in the fortunes of other people,
but cannot be persuaded it is best for ourselves.
I have nothing more to add, if you will excuse
all this ramble, than what I always conclude with
in the greatest sincerity of heart, when I subscribe
myself, Ever honoured Madam,
Your most devoted,
most obliged, humble servant,
A. Clarke.
The case of suicide mentioned in the preceding
letter, excited a great interest at the time. It is
even raentioned in the dry detaUs of SmoUett's
history. According to his account, the man and
his wife were living within the liberties of the
Kiug's Bench. They had first murdered their
infant, justifying that act by saying it was less
cruel to take away her life than to leave her to
the mercies of the world. They professed, says
the historian, " their belief in Almighty God,"
in stating which, he differs from the statement of
Dr. Alured Clarke.

CHAPTER V.

Mrs. Clayton consulted on every subject — Dr. Bentley, Master
of Trinity College, Cambridge — His controversies with Dr.
Clarke before the Queen — His character in the Dunciad —
His cause — St. Matthew's Gospel — Character of William
the Third — Mavrocordatus, Prince of Wallachia — The
famous drop — Dr. Clarke summoned to a Chapter of West
minster — Excuses his attendance — Dr. Waterland's Charge
— Modern Deists, and advocates for Deism — Passage in the
London Joumal complimentary to Queen Caroline — Dr.
Clarke's high opinion of Mrs. Clayton's friendship — Good
sentiments in great people — Dr. Friend at Sundon — Will
of the late Duke of Wharton — An uncommon Sermon.

CHAPTER V.
It is a presumptive proof of the strength of
Mrs. Clayton's understanding, that she was con
sulted and addressed by Dr. Clarke upon every
subject, however difficult, and on the most critical
questions that then occupied the public attention.
It raust be remembered, that in writing to Mrs.
Clayton, her reverend correspondent was, in
reality, writing to Queen CaroUne. These letters
were, doubtiess, intended for her Majesty's infor
mation, and conveyed to her the opinions of a
reflective, and learned, though not dispassionate
reasoner upon public affafrs.
" Dr. Bentley's Cause," to which reference is
made in the foUowuig letter from Dr. Clarke, had
been pending ever since the year 1717. That
leai-ned critic, and extraordinary man, after rising
from the station of a country schoolmaster, to be
the Chaplain to WiUiam the Third and Queen
Anne, as well as Regius Professor at Cam-

128 memoirs of
bridge, — was, at that time, Master of Trinity
College, Cambridge. He was, also, the great
antagonist of Robert Boyle, concerning the
genuine character of the Episties of Phalaris,
and he had been the first to preach the Boylean
Lectures. Bentley, whose fame as a philologist
was unrivalled in his time, was taught die Latin
accidence by his mother — a woman of extraordi
nary sense and knowledge. He was a Bachelor
of Arts at the age of nineteen, and at that
early period of his life stood for a Fellowship,
which was withheld only on account of his
being too young to take Priest's Orders. His
intellect seems to have ripened sooner, and to
have lasted longer than that of other raen. His
frarae was as powerful as his mind, robust and
large, with strong, perhaps harsh features, and a
great severity of aspect. He retained his faculties
to an advanced age.
Few raen had warmer friends, or more bitter
enemies than Bentley ; a circumstance which may
be accounted for, by his overbearing, pompous
manner, which exasperated his foes — and by his
real tenderness of heart, which won upon his
friends. This bulky, austere man, could never
read a pathetic tale without shedding tears ; and
on seeing Bishop Moore, during a contest which

LADY SUNDON. 129
Dr. Bentley had with the University of Carabridge,
concerning the Vicatorial power, appear against
him, he fainted away in court. To the Doctor's
urgent entreaties, he being the fi-iend of Sir Isaac
Newton, the world is indebted for the publication
of the Principia, which the raodesty of Newton
caused him to withhold.
Dr. Bentley is said to have encountered from
the University of Cambridge, proceedings the
most unjustifiable, arising from a party disaffected
from the government. His offence was an ex
action of four guineas fi-om each Doctor of
Divinity on being made Doctors, over and above
a broad piece, the customary fee. This new tax,
imposed in the character of Regius Professor,
was violently resisted by the University ; and
among the others, by the celebrated Dr. Mid
dleton, author of " The Life of Cicero." The
Vice Chancellor, then Duke of Somerset, was ap
pealed to ; and Bentley was suspended fi-om all
his degrees. The case was afterwards referred to
the King and Council; but the Ministry being
unwUling to interfere, the matter was again re-
fen-ed in a judicial way, to the King's Bench ;
the proceedings of the University were all reversed
by that Court, and Dr. Bentley was restored to
his degrees. This was in 1728. It now appears.
VOL. II. K

130 MEMOIRS OF
from Dr. Clarke's letter, that a fiirther appeal was
made in 1732, to the House of Lords.
Dr. Bentley was Librarian to Queen Caroline ;
and it was often the Queen's pleasure to excite
him and Dr. Samuel Clarke to an argument on
subjects of literature, and to listen to their
amicable controversies. But the haughty Master
of Trinity was soon weary of talking even for the
diversion of a Queen. His arena was of a very
different description, and he had not the com
plying teraper of Dr. Sainuel Clarke.
Perhaps the portrait of the great critic in the
" Dunciad," was not, in some respects, too
strongly coloured.
" As many quit the streams, that murmuring fall
To lull the sons of Margaret and Clare Hall,
Where Bentley late tempestuous wont to sport
In troubled waters, but now sleeps in Port :
Before them marched that awful Aristarch,
Ploughed was his front with many a deep remark ;
His hat, which never veiled to human pride,
Walker with reverence took, and lay'd aside.
Low bowed the rest ; he kingly did but nod :
So upright Quakers please both man and God.
Mistress ! dismiss that rabble from your throne.
Avaunt ! — Is Aristarchus yet unknovra ?
The mighty scholiast, whose unwearied pains
Made Horace dull, and humbled Milton's strains !
Turn what they will to verse, their toil is vain ;
Critics shall rue, shall make it prose again."
By adrairable judges it has been, however.

LADY SUNDON. 131
fuUy shown, now that the warmth of disputation
is at an end, that Bentley was not merely the
verbal critic who, as Pope describes him, settled
disputes of " Me, or Te, of Ant, or A," " to sound
or sink in Cano O, or A." The man who was con
sidered, whilst under the age of thirty, to be the
fittest person to preach the Boylean Lectiu-e, must
have had a far higher intellectual character than
that of a mere poacher in " Suidas for unlicensed
Greek." Much of Dr. Bentley's mass of accumu
lated knowledge would be regarded, however, and
perhaps justly, with something like contempt in
the present day^ " He could judge," observed the
celebrated Lowth, Bishop of Oxford, " with great
penetration, ofthe age of an author, by the dialect,
the phrase, and the matter ; by Thericlean cups,
and Sicilian talents ; this was his proper sphere
of science, and in this he excelled. But in mat
ters of pure taste, in the fine discernment of the
different characters of composition, colom-s of
style, and matters of thinking; of interior beauties,
and excellencies of writing, what was he ? Unus
Capriraulgus aut Fossor." This opinion was
wai-mly controverted by the well known Richard
Cumberland, the grandson of Dr. Bentley^
Collins, to whom Dr. Clarke makes a brief
allusion in this letter, is doubtless, Anthony
K 2

132 MEMOIRS OF
Collins, the author of an " Essay concerning the
Use of Religion" of " Priestcraft in perfection,"
a " Discom-se of Free thinking," and raany other
works attacking revealed religion. Collins was
an instance of a man fulfiUiug every duty of life,
without faith ; almost a dangerous character, if
a man of benevolence can be so called. Yet
one cannot but have misgivings of the genuine
ness of that benevolence which is extended to
man, yet wants devotion to God.
DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Hursbourne, May 18, 1732.
Most Honoured Madam,
I spent Monday with the Bishop of Salisbui-y,
who, by this time, I suppose, has waited upon you
in town, and is glad to be laid up in Grosvenor-
street for the remainder of the year. He seemed
very well after the fatigue of visiting his diocese,
and explaining to his clergy the vaiious senses in
which they may be said to be Stewards of the
Mysteries, &c. If he had been in town, I believe
he would have dissented from the rest of his
brethren in Dr. Bentley's cause, which seems to
be drawing to an issue, not very favourable to the
Doctor, unless means be found to adjourn the
final decision of the House to another session.
We are informed in the countiy, that Lord
Carteret was very bitter in some of his expressions
towards the Bench, and I doubt not Gordon's,

LADY SUNDON. 133
book against Bishop Hare has contributed to the
strength of the spirit which is rising everywhere
against the jpi'ofession, and I wish it may do us so
much good as to make the clergy do honour to
their government by their learning and conduct,
which wUl be raore serviceable to the public than
they can be at present, merely by their votes, &c.
The inquiry concerning the Canon of St.
Matthew's Gospel came to hand since I wrote
last, and seeras to be the beginning of a design
which Mr. CoUins had formed in his life-time.
And though there be little more pretended than a
revival of the old arguraents, it is done with so
much shrewdness as to deserve the consideration
of the first pen. But as these things are given
into the conduct of one person, I suppose Dr.
Middleton's adversary will be employed, that the
cause may not suffer for want of a grave and
weighty maaner of handling it.
I am sorry, for many reasons, to see so much
bustle of late, about King William's character, in
the journals, and find that it has produced a con-
ti-oversy that affects Bishop Burnet's, with relation
to what he say^s of that Prince, which Mr. Burnet
has resented so warraly, as to enter the Usts in
defence of his father, for the London Journal sup
poses him to be the letter writer, which I take for
granted he would disavow if he was not.
t saw a letter the other day from Mr. Carte,
the nonjuror (who has been employed by Buckley,
the printer, in collecting materials for Thuanus's

134 MEMOIRS OF
History), in which he says that the Speaker has
eraployed a correspondent at Constantinople, to
buy the Ubrai-y of Mavi-ocordatus, the late Prince
of WaUachia, who had coUected all the ancient
raanuscripts that were to be met with in the East,
that anyway concerned the History of Christianity,
which he proposes to have annexed to the Cotton
Library, if a sum of money can be raised for a
proper building and endowment. Mavrocordatus
was a man of very uncommon virtues and parts ;
he published an excellent book of morals in
Greek, which was printed in London a few years
ago. He was a tributary to the Turks, and when
he was taken prisoner by the Emperor in the
Turkish War, refused great offers from the
Emperor, and chose to put himself under the pro
tection of the Grand Seignior, which procured
him so much favour as to be admitted a member
of the Divan, an honour never before enjoyed
by a Christian.
I have received two letters from the Speaker
conceming a relation he has a mind to send to
Winchester School, where he was educated
himself. To add one scrap more to my letter —
one Clutton, a chemist at London, a Quaker,
was -with me last week, who told me that he had
studied a good deal about the famous Drop of
Sir T. Robins. That he beUeved it had given
great help in many cases, and that he found a
receipt in Sfr Kenelm Digby's Chemical Secrets,
by which he made what he verily thinks is the

LADY SUNDON. 13&
Drop, or vei-y near it, and whether it be or no,
is persuaded that the main ingredients of the
Drop are nitre and gold.
I am charged with Lord and Lady Lymington's
best serrices to you and Mr. Clayton, and beg
you would always beUeve me to be,
Ever honoured Madam,
Your most obUged
humble servant,
A. Clarke.
Winchester, September 9, 1732.
Most Honoured Madam,
I felt a more particular pleasure than is easy
to express, from your kind inqufry after me, by
Stephen Duck, the same post by which I thanked
you for your obUging letter. I hope you have
received the venison in due time, and vrill take
care that half a buck more shaU be sent, about
Monday or Tuesday se'nnight, when, (if I guess
right,) you vrill be retui-ned home .fi-om Court.
I hear Lord Lymington begins to recover of the
sprain he received in his leg. His house has
been very full of company some time past, and,
amongst others, Mr. Burnet has been there a few
days. I have a very urgent letter from the
Bishop of Rochester, to attend a Chapter at
Westminster the end of this month ; and, as I am
of opinion I cannot be wanted to make up a
sufficient number for the Chapter, I am afraid
there may be some difficulties about the disposal

136 memoirs of
of St. Bride's Living, which I the rather suspect
from another letter I received at the same time.
I have desfred the Bishop, if possible, to excuse
me the joumey% because I am obliged to be here
again in November, or at least to defer the
Chapter tUl the beginning of next month, if it be
necessary for me to come at all.
I have seen no modern piece since I came
hither, except Dr. Waterland's Charge, which
probably you may not have had time to look into;
the scheme of it is to consider the several charges
of credulity or bigotry, superstition or enthusiasm,
state-craft, priest-craft, or imposture, which the
Deists lay upon us, and to show that the guilt
which they would load us with, is not ours but
theirs, and that these imputations are, for the most
part, chargeable upon the accusers themselves.
The Doctor goes through these articles severally,
in so plausible and popular a way, that I dare say
the clergy are generally much pleased with the
performance. But I think one thing more is
essential to such a work, and that is, that the
reflections of a clergyraan and a scholar, be just
and reasonable, as well as plausible, of which you
¦vriU please to judge, by two or thi-ee of his
sraartest sentences, and I ara afi-aid he will never
be able to stand the just raillery he deserves for
the foUovring observations, viz. : —
" Our modern Deists, however they may please
to think of themselves, have not so clear a dis
cernment, nor so true a taste, nor so correct a

LADY SUNDON. 137
judgment (whatever the reason be), as common
Christians have." I shall not trouble you with
any reflections upon such stuff, but give you
another taste of his ingenious manner of treating
a subject, when he makes it a proof of hypocrisy,
to build our obUgations to morality upon the
reasons of things. Their rejecting the best and
only coraplete systera of morality, and their taking
morality out of God's hands into their own, shows
they are not in earnest. A little further, he says,
the amount of all, is to compliment virtue or
morality very highly, but to starve it at the sarae
time, leaving it little or nothing to subsist on.
But his greatest piece of wit is, that now seeking
the truth is almost become as rauch a phrase
amongst these gentlemen, as seeking the Lord
once was, among another set of refiners. And
when I have given you one specimen more, you
will see whom he means to rank in the number
of Deists, and what pains he takes to straighten
the circle of the Christian church, which, upon
his scheme, would soon be an inrisible one, and
very little worth the concern of good raen.
The present advocates for Deism sanctify their
flights of fancy, their own roving inventions,
under the sacred name of Reason, which they
style also, in part. Divine Inspiration, and in the
whole, internal Revelation. They prescribe, where
they know nothing, what services God ought to
expect, what indulgences he should make to
warm desires, what penalties he may appoint

138 memoirs of
here or hereafter. They enter caveats against
his being arbittary, either by imposing positive
laws without their consent, or by abridging them
of thefr natural rights, or by interposing in mat
ters indifferent, or by punishing the incorrigible
for sins past. Indeed, all claims to any internal
notices, exclusive of God's written word, whether
they be entitled inspiration, or internal reve
lation, or inward light, or reason, or infallibility,
or what else soever, I say all such claims, brought
to exclude Scriptm-e, are enthusiastic and fana
tical, false, and vain.
This is the way in which Dr. Waterland thinks
fit to tieat Dr. Clarke and his friends, and all that
have endeavoured to remove the difficulties vrith
which the Christian religion has been clogged by
the zealots of all professions ; but whatsoever con
dition the morals of the present age may be in, I
believe there is understanding enough left to
despise such a manner of writing, and am per
suaded the Doctor will soon write himself down,
with all men of sense, if he goes on to publish
things in a mere declamatory sttain ; for I am
persuaded the public taste is so much improved,
that if we were to write after the Doctor's ex
araple, the Deists would soon have aU the readers
of the age to themselves, and then we might have
reason to be thankful to them for anything they
might please to let us keep.
It was natural enough to think of this author,
when I read a passage in the London Joumal

LADY SUNDON. 139
this day fortnight, which I shall transcribe, be
cause I thought it a pretty remarkable one,
though it never would have corae from a prudent
raan, nor ought to have corae from a journalist
that is encouraged by the administiation. The
paper is in honour of her Majesty, on her setting
up the four busts in the Herraitage ; and after a
great many just compliments to the Queen, and
an account of the peculiar excellencies of persons,
to whose memory she has done so much honour,
he concludes his paper in this manner :
" When her Majesty consecrated these dead
heroes, (for heroes are those only who are bene
factors to mankind,) she buUt herself a temple in
the hearts of the people of England, who will, by
this instance of her love of liberty and public
vfrtue, think thefr- interests as safe in the hands of
the Government as their ovsti ;" and after a sen
tence or two more of this sort, follows the reflec
tion I mean in these words : " They (the friends
of liberty) are now fuUy satisfied, that if any
persons have been preferred who seem not to
entertain the same principles, that it was merely
poUtical, and vrith no other view than to keep the
balance of power as equal at home as it is held
abroad." Whether this fi-iend of ours meant this
as a compliment to the Government, or thought
that either party can ever be prevailed with to
come into such policy, I will not pretend to deter
mine, nor would it be reasonable I should, after
haring taken up so much of your time. I shall

140 memoirs of
only stay to express my wishes, that you may not
lose any of the health you have brought out of
¦the counti-y by too much fatigue in your atten-
¦dance at Court, considering how long it will be
•before you can have such another recess.
I am, ever honoured Madam,
Your most obliged,
devoted humble servant,
A. Clarke.
DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bristol, July 23, 1733.
Most Honoured Madam,
Though I intended nothing should prevent
my writing to-day, I find I have a double obliga
tion upon the receipt of your most obliging letter,
"which has put me in fuU spfrits. But I am in
pain least you should think I could defer my
thanks for it one day ; for by the date, I think it
¦ought to have been here a week ago, though I
have not had it two hours. I know full well how
much you enjoy yourself at Sundon, and know,
too, how agreeable you make it to your friends,
and am vcty much mortified to think that it wUl
be almost impossible for me to be at liberty to
wait on you before you leave Bedfordshire.
For I think I ought to pretend to nothing, if I
have not gratitude enough in me to watch all op
portunities of expressing the sense I shaU ever
have of my obligations to you ; and if I was to
wish for anything in life that could add to my

LADY SUNDON. 141
happiness, it should be to convince you, that the
interest which I propose to rayself in the honour
of your friendship is quite of another sort than
what generally forras the dependencies of courts,,
&c. And, therefore, I felt an unusual pleasure on
reading what you say on the subject of friendship,
which nobody^, within the compass of my obser
vation, has carried so far into practical life with so
disinterested a mind as yourself. But it is a sub
ject there is no talking upon without a more deli
cate turn of thought and expression than I can
pretend to.
I believe few that are very high in the world
are proper subjects of such a blessing ; and yet,
where by chance it raay happen that they are so,
it raust be an additional pleasure to a good mind
to instU good sentiments into those upon whom
the happiness of multitudes depends. For, as
somebody says, all the curses of a kingdom ought
to centre among those who debauch the minds of
great people, as being the poisoners, not only of
cistems of a private house, but of those public
springs of which so many thousands are to drink ;
for which reason, it is as true, on the other hand,
that the greatest public blessings come from them.
who can do anything towards regulating the
minds of those, who are a sort of rule and stan
dard, by which whole countiies form and govern
themselves. Here I stop short, for fear of wading
out of my depth.
I am mighty glad that Dr. Friend is well

14'2 MEMOIRS OF
enough to go to Sundon, where, I am persuaded,
(from what I have often heard of him from you,
as well as the little I have seen of him myself,)
he will meet with a greater restorative in his fre
quent conversation with you than fiom anything
else. Since I came hither, I have met with an
account of a very peculiar and whimsical sort of
a will of the late Duke of Wharton's, in which he
declares hiraself a raember of the Roman-Catholic
coraraunion, and a very loyal subject of the Pre
tender. Over his grave, he orders the two follow
ing inscriptions, and is very express in his direc
tion about it : —
" Vixi. et quem diderat cursum fortuna peregi."
(i. e., I lived, and pursued the course marked out by fortune.)
" My fame shall last, when pyramids of pride
Mix with the ashes they were raised to hide.''
It is sti-ange that a man in such a situation
should dream of reputation, and desire to be re
merabered after such a life ! It is said the widow
claims a jointure of 1200Z. per annum.
I had a letter last post from our friends in
Hampshire, where Lord Lymington is very much
engaged in visiting round the country and bestir
ring himself against the grand bustle.
Haring met with an uncommon sort of serraon
preached before the Lord Mayor last 29th of May,
I have raade my man transcribe the most remark
able passages, that you may see how much pains

LADY SUNDON. 143
the preacher took to procure the attention of the
public. Since I wrote last, I know of nothing
worth communicating from hence, except that Mr.
Scrope has sent word he intends to offer his
sei-rice to represent the city in the next Parlia
ment. I beg my hurable service to Mr. Clayton and
Dr. Fiiend, and am, in the most eamest manner.
Ever honoured Madam,
Your most obliged, devoted,
humble servant,
A. Clarke.

CHAPTER VI.

Mr. Hamilton's acknowledgments — ^Doings in Dublin Uni
versity — A College fight — Conflict of the watch with the
students — One of the scholars taken up for murder — Mrs.
Clayton solicited to use her influence to save him from
being hanged — Swift on the state of Ireland — Influential
men in Ireland — The Bishop of Killala thanks Mrs. Clayton
for mentioning his name to the Queen — His obsequious
ness — Different conduct of Bishop Atterbury — The Bishop
of Killala's description of the Duke of Dorset as "Viceroy
of Ireland — His Duchess — Members of the Irish House of
Commons — Mr. Carey, the Irish Secretary — Lord Percival
and his son — Irish parties and politics — The Opposition
resolve to address the King — The Bishop's political ser
vices at this period.

VOL. II.

CHAPTER VI.
Mrs. Clayton, in the midst of the domestic
cares of the Court, was stUl the depositary of
every important change in the sister kingdom.
The following account of a College fight may
recall the remembrance of our English universities
some forty or fifty years ago : — ¦
THE BLSHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, April 17, 1731.
Having received a letter from Mr. HamUton,
full of acknowledgments forthe honours which you
have done him, I think myself obliged to trouble
you vrith this letter, to return you my raost sincere
thanks for your condescension, in taking so rauch
notice of ray recommendation. I think I need
say nothing more in his favour, because since you
have perraitted hira to wait upon you, if he has
anything in hira, I am sure you will find it out ;
and I freely acknowledge myself to be much
deceived in mankind, if I have ever reason to re
cant the character I have given you of him. It
gives me great pleasure to hear of your health.
L 2

148 MEMOIRS OF
I propose going down to Killala the middle of
next month, and shall return to town the begin
ning of September, to attend the Duke of Dorset
This city does not afford any news worth send
ing you account of. There has, however, an un
fortunate accident happened here lately, which
will occasion you some solicitation at your Court,
in behalf of a young gentleman of the College of
Dublin, who was engaged in a quarrel with the
watch of this city, wherein two of the watchmen
were killed. The story is this. The College
happens, though formerly built at a distance, to
be now almost in the raidst of the town ; and
they have a custora, that during Lent, on the
afternoons of the Sunday, the body of scholars,
which are about four hundred, with the Provost
and Fellows at their head, go through the whole
city to church at St. Patrick's, which is the old
cathedra], and was the monastery fi-om whence
they were erected into an university. There were
a great number of raob and townspeople gathered
together in a large space before the College, to see
this procession ; but before the scholars came out,
some of them being impatient for the show, threw
stones at the College gates and windows, and
wounded one of the scholars, as the gates were
opening. This occasioned a battle between the
scholars and the mob, in which, though the
scholars got the better, yet several of them were
wounded; till at length the guards of the city
were sent for to conduct them back to the CoUege.

LADY SUNDON. 149
This outrage upon the principal youths of the
nation, by the lowest of the people, incensed the
scholars very much, and occasioned several little
skirraishes between them and the mob, whenever
they met one another in small parties ; but by the
prudence of the Government no hurt was done,
and everything was seemingly at an end, till un
fortunately about a week afterwards, some idle
boys of the College who were raking about the
streets at an inegular hour, (the College gates
being always locked at eleven o'clock at night, so
that nobody cfn get either in or out,) quarrelled
with the watch, who, after a sUght skirmish, seized
three of them. The rest who escaped, came run
ning to the College, and gave out that the mob of
the town was up, and had met with some of the
scholars, and were murdering them. This alarraed
the whole College : in an instant, they called one
another up, and about fifty of them jumped out
of their windows, one story high, over a large ditch,
into the street, and went to the relief of the
scholars. They met with none but the watch,
who by this time had collected themselves into a
large body, and without considering what they
were doing, they attacked the watch, who drove
them back to the College ; but a new reci-uit of
scholars still coming out, the watch were forced
at length to fly, and carried off with them one
scholar, a prisoner.
This is the youth who is now in the gaol, and
who is to be tried for his life ; two of the watchmen

150 MEMOIRS OF
being since dead of the wounds received in the
last engagement. The misfortiine lies here, that
the scholars who first began this fight with the
watch, and carried a false alarm to the CoUege,
and ought deservedly to be hanged for thefr pains,
were either prisoners before this second engage
ment, or else are not known ; whereas this poor
youth, who has a good and sober character in
the College, suffers not only for his own rashness
but for their vrickedness also. I ara glad that I
have sent you this account, because I now recol
lect that his Majesty was formerlj' Chancellor to
this University. The boy wUl certainly be con
demned, and there will be application made for a
pardon ; aud as nobody can confer a favour with
a better grace than his Majesty, you are the best
judge whether you will think it proper to apprize
him of it
Had Mrs. Clayton the good opinion of herself
that the rest of the world have of her, I should
not stand in need of an apology for troubling you
with my letters ; I have so often ttespassed upon
your time without a rebuke, that I begin to be
hardened, and have received so rauch pleasure in
your conversation, that I begin to take up even a
pen with pleasure, as the only means of supply
ing the loss. Could you but form to yourself the
imagination of another person endued with the
same steadiness of friendship, UveUness of conver
sation, soundness of judgment, and desfre of
making everybody happy that is about her, which

LADY SUNDON. 151
all the world can see in you but yourself, you
would then pardon my forwardness in desiring to
keep a correspondence vrith her. Add to all this
the many favours, which I have received from you
which demand the most sincere and constant
acknowledgraents, and I hope you will then for
give the frequency of my assuring you that I am,
vrith the utmost gratitude.
Your most obedient,
humble servant, Rt. Killala.
The same unblushing subserriency which
marks the former letters of Bishop Clayton goes
through his whole correspondence. Mrs. Clay
ton's interest was able to command not only
respect at home, but reverence to her favourites,
even in Ireland. It might have been happier for
the people of that unfortunate country, if her
rulers at home had been occupied in benefiting her
general condition, rather than in interesting them
selves in the history of factions at the Castle.
" This kingdom," writes Swift two years afterwards,
in 1735, " is absolutely starving, by the means of
every oppression that can be inflicted on mankind.
' Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord.'
You advise me right not to ttouble myself about
the world ; but oppression tortures me, and I cannot
live without meat and drink, nor get either -without

152 MEMOIRS OF
money ; and money is not to be had, except they
wUl make me a bishop, or a judge, or a colonel,
or a commissioner ofthe revenues."* The mixture
of feeling and of selfishness in this passage is
very characteristic — " Men are not all evil."
THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Killala, June 5, 1731.
Madam,
It is not easy to express the pleasure which
the receipt of yom- letter gave me. I have too
grateful a sense of the many favours which I
have received fi-om Mrs. Clayton not to look
upon this as an additional honour, which, among
the multitude of business with which you are
pressed, it would have been unreasonable for me
to have expected, and which nothing but your
own great goodness can account for. I must add
to this my acknowledgraents for the honour you
have done me in mentioning my name to her
Majesty. If I am free from any vice, I think it
is that of ingratitude. Judge, therefore, whether
I shall not think it my duty, as I am sure it must
be my interest, to behave in such a manner as I
think will be raost acceptable to her Majesty,
whom I regard, not only as my Queen, but also
my benefacttess.
Your mentioning my name to his Grace of
Dorset is only a continuation of your former fa-
* Swift's Letters to Pope, octavo edition, vol. iv. 359.

LADY SUNDON. 153
vours. I shall think myself happy if I ara capable-
of doing him any service. Mrs. Clayton cannot
command what I will not endeavour to perform.
The Archbishop of Dublin and I, if I be not
mistaken, are upon better terms than comraon
civility. I endeavour to behave myself after such
a raanner as to raake nobody my enemy but those
that are their Ma-jesties' ; but the Archbishop of
Dublin I shall ti-y to make ray friend. When I
write next to the Bishop of Clonfert, I shall
deliver him your raessage, which I am sure will
be very acceptable.
A little before I left Dublin, I received an
account of the Dean of Killala's being very ill,
which I thought it my duty to inform you of. I
have been near a fortnight on the road, and on my
arrival found hira perfectly recovered. He is an
infirm man, and has very severe fits of the gout.
If anything happens to him, I shall be sure to
inform you. As I have two Bishoprics, I have
likewise another Dean, who is very old, and pos
sesses the best livings that are in my gift; but
though he is ninety years of age, he is very
hearty, and may last a good while. However, as
he raust die sometirae or other, I shall take care
to inform you of it, if it happens in my time, and
will not dispose of the livings which are in my
donation tiU I receive your coraraands. I have
not above fifteen clergyraen in ray two dioceses,
and the rest of the livings are very insignificant.
My wife is rauch obliged to you for thinking of|

154 MEMOIRS OF
her, and desfres that her most grateful acknow
ledgments may be returned to you, along with
those of Your most obliged,
humfrle servant, Rt. Killala.
The Bishop of KUlala presents a contrast to
the celebrated Bishop Atterbury. " Visits to
statesmen," remai-ks tiiat eminent Prelate, " always
were to me (and are now more than ever) insipid
things. Let the men that expect, that wish to
thrive by them, pay them that homage. I am
free. When I want them, they shall hear of me
at their doors — when they want me, I shall be
sure to hear of them at mine. A President of
the Council, or a Star and Garter, wUl raake no
raore impression on my mind, at such a time,
than the hearing of a bagpipe or the sight of a
puppet-show. The time is not far off (1722)
when we shaU be all upon the level ; and I am
resolved, for my part, to anticipate that time, and
be upon the level with them now ; for he is so
that neither seeks nor wants them. Let them
have raore rirtue and less pride, and then I wiU
court them as much as anybody."* This from a
High Churchman and a Jacobite !
• Atterbury's Letters to Pope.

LADY SUNDON. 155
The Duke of Dorset would not have been
highly flattered, could he have perused the fol
lowing account of his qualifications, as a public
character, to attain populai-ity : —
THE BISHOP OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, November 9, 1731.
Madam,
I hope you have received the letter which I
wrote you soon after my coming to town. How
ever, I cannot forbear laying hold of this oppor
tunity of sending this letter to you by a private
hand, which, as it contains some things that do
not please me, and I beUeve wUl not please you,
I should not have ventured to have sent by the
post. I beUeve it vriU not be unacceptable to you
to let you know the ttue state of affairs in this
kingdora, and therefore I have sat down vrith a
fuU intent of giring you as particular an account
as I ara able.
The Duke, ever since he came over, has lived
in a very splendid and magnificent manner ; he
behaves himself very civilly, but with something
of more height than is agreeable. He has three
mornings in the week that he sees company at
his levee. He stays but a short tirae out, speaks
but to a few, and that but very little. You may
easUy perceive that entertaining of a mixed com
pany is not his talent. When he entertains at
dinner or supper, he does it vrith great magni
ficence, his retinue in great order, and all his

156 MEMOIRS OF
attendants perfectly ciril and complaisant. I
have dined tvrice with him on public days, along
with the rest of the nobility.
The Duchess has a drawing-room twice a week,
in the evenings, at one of which there is always a
ball ; this also is very orderly and handsome.
On his Majesty's birth-day, everything was very
grand, and the day following there was noble
entertainment given the tovra, in imitation of a
ridotto, where the rooms were ornamented, at his
Grace's expense, in a very splendid way, and
nothing was wanting that could add to the gi-an-
deur ofthe entertainment.
All this is very well, but it does no business.
Men who are to do one a service must be gained
by something particular. No one thinks it an
obligation to be lumped with a crowd. There
are many members in Parliament, which have
been a good whUe in town, that his Grace or his
Secretary hardly know the face of. To remedy
this, I desired Mr. Carey to corae sometimes and
dine with me, and told him, that if he would let
me know when he would come, that I would
always take care to have some of the members of
the House to meet him there, and I would take
care to have engaged such as are against the
Court, that if we could not have gained them
over, we would, at least, have taken off their
edge; but I have never had the pleasure of
seeing him at my house sinc'e I wrote to you last,
but once in a moming, when he paid a formal

LADY SUNDON. 157
visit. I do not know what station Mr. Carey has
acted in in England, but to me he does not seem
to understand business. He is too busy in
public, and too little so in private. In the House
of Commons, where he should sit still, he is per
petually running about speaking to the members,
even in the midst of a debate.
However, the state of the nation, with regard
to its debts and the vote for borrowing an addi
tional loan of 100,000Z., was all carried on with
great ease and quietness, and indeed I thought
the business of the session was over.
The Bishop then proceeds to give a sample of
Parliamentary tactics. Well might the Primate
Boulter decree that public affairs in Ireland
should be governed by Churchmen. What party
tool could be a greater adept than the Bishop of
KUlala ?
I carried my Lord Percival's son to wait upon
Mr. Carey, and presented hira to him. He went
afterwards to wait upon him by hiraself, but did
not find him within ; and when Mr. Percival told
me that Mr. Carey had never returned his visit, I
told hira it raust be the fault of the servant, who
had never inforraed his raaster, and desired hira,
when he next met Mr. Carey in the Parliament
House, to let him know he had been to see him,
which he accordingly did; but from that time
to this he has never heard anything from Mr.
Carey.

158 MEMOIRS OF
My Lord Percival has an estate in this king
dom, now let for 5600Z. a year; his son is in the
House of Commons, and there are two other
members of Parliament, one of which is his re
ceiver, and the other his receiver's son, that are
very much influenced by him. I am not well
enough acquainted with Mr. Carey to pretend to
instruct him in pieces of good breeding, but I
hinted it to a friend of his, who, I believe, has
since told him ; for within this day or two, he has
come up to Mr. Percival, and asked him some
questions about his father ; but it is now too late.
It is natui-al for everybody to desfre to be thought
of some consequence ; and if they cannot gain
some regard by fair means, if they have any
spirit, they will stiive to gain it by opposition.
This has been the effect of Mr. Carey's negligence,
which I did not think had made so great an im
pression, till I found Mr. Percival, in the last
debate of consequence, voting vrith the countiy
people, as they call themselves.* The court lost
it but by a single vote, whereas, had there been
but the least proper precaution taken, they might
have carried it by twenty. I knew nothing of it
tUl I heard the debate in the House of Commons;
Mr. Carey p-lways declaring to rae, that the Duke
had no point to can-y, and therefore would leave
the members to themselves. But behold, as soon
as ever the vote (for borrowing the additional
100,000/., and granting the duties for two years
• One cannot avoid admiring the purity of Mr. Percival's
principles.

LADY SUNDON. 159
only, instead of twenty-one, as the Court would
have had it) was carried against them, then they
imprudently showed how much they had it at
heart — sent for numbers of the members openly,
and closeted them, and spoke to others in the
pubUc drawing-room, to fry to get the bUl re
committed. This alarmed the gentlemen of the adverse
party, and made them pubUsh lists of all that
had voted for the two years, in order to keep
them right, and to send expresses instantly out
of town for aU thefr friends, insomuch the Court
was forced to drop it entirely, and agree to the
resolution of the committee. This has done them
more hurt than perhaps they are aware of.
I ara thus particular in giving an account of
this affair, because I would not have Mrs. Clayton
imagine that I woidd not do aU that lay in my
power to serve any one that she recommends. I
think it was prudent in the Court not to declare
their designs, but it was wrong, at the same
time, not to make fiiends ; for ray part, I thought
I raade an offer which Mr. Carey might have been
glad to accept, when I proposed engaging mem
bers to meet him at my house, (since he keeps no
table for himself, as the Secretai-y did,) where,
without seeming to have any design upon them,
he might have represented things to them in such
a light as might have gained upon them. But
whether they thought themselves secure in haring
gained over one leading man, and having two
Judges' places, the Clerkship of the Council, and

160 MEMOIRS OF
the CounseUors to the Commissioners vacant, 1
cannot tell; but am sm-e they have found them
selves mistaken. December 1, 1731.
Madam,
The foregoing part of this letter was wiitten thei
day ofthe date thereof; but the person who was
to be the bearer being delayed on this side of the
water longer than he expected, I did not close
my letter, that if anything further offered, I might
at the sarae tirae give you an account of it. And
as I did apprehend, and hinted at in the first part
of this letter, that the second attempt which the
Court had made about the twenty-one years, had
done them more hurt than perhaps they were
awai-e of, so it accordingly fell out ; for this having
forraed the opponents of the Com-t into a party,
which gave them an opportunity to know their
sttength, they came to resolutions araong them
selves to draw up a representation of the state of
the nation, and to address the King in pursuance
thereof Everybody who is versed in the histories of
Parliaments knows very well that these sort of
representations, let thera be put in what words
you please, are in reality a coraplaint against the
Administiation ; so that as soon as I heard that
they were determined on such a resolution, there
having been flying reports of their design some
time before, I set to work to dissuade them from
it, and had prevaUed ui^on a considerable party

LADY SUNDON. 161
of them not to join in such violent methods before
any one but they and I knew anything of the
matter. I went then to visit the Duke, to inform
him of the design, and to desire him to employ
all his fiiends. He had heard of the general
design and of their resolutions, but knew nothing
of their last meeting till I told hira of it, and that
they intended this week to make their push. I
told hira that I hoped to be able to do him some
service, but desired that he would at the same
time speak to the rest of his fiiends.
That very day happened to be appointed for
the hearing of a contested election at the bar of
the House, which occasioned a great number of
merabers to be present; and then one of the
leading men against the Court took that opportu
nity to rise up and say, that as he saw a great
number of members attending on a private occa
sion, he hoped they would not be less diligent
when the service of their country demanded their
attendance, and proraised that in a few days he
would make some proposals to them which would
very much contribute to that end.
This convinced the Duke and his friends that
they had no time to lose, araong which the Speaker
of the House of Commons did hira great service.
However, I had the pleasure of going to the Duke
about three days afterwards, to tell him that the
danger was mostly over; for as I had constant
intelligence of everything they did, I was better
able to counterwork and divide them among them-
VOL. II. m

162 MEMOIRS OF LADY SUNDON.
selves; and found that the next time that they
met they were much disappointed when they saw
that pai-ty which I had prevailed upon, upon
wliich they very much depended, rather opposing
than consenting to their resolutions.
This brought thera into some temper, and ac
cordingly on Monday last, which was the day
designed for the attack, the Speaker sent for some
of the leaders into his chambers, among which
were several of my friends, and there they agreed
to di-op their designs. So now I hope there will
be an easy sessions.
I will venture to say, had it not been for Mr.
Carey, there would not have been one word
about a representation, and had it not been for mc
it had gone to a great height. It is hard to con
ceive how much he has lost himself among the
members. You may think what a contemptible
notion I have of him, when I durst not inform
him what I was doing, even when I was doing his
own business for him. He is the veriest marplot
I ever met with, and am surprised to hear that he
is in esteera, not only with the Duke, but also
with Lord Wilraington. I cannot give a stronger
proof of the regard I have for Mrs. Clayton than
in writing my sentiments thus freely to her,— I
should perhaps have said, than in exposing my
sentiments to her ; but I must think you have a
right to ray heart as well as my hand. I wish
it may be worth your acceptance, who am
Your most obedient humble servant,
Rt. Killala.

CHAPTER VII.

Judge Wainwright an advocate for Dean Berkeley — Berke
ley's work on Immaterialism — His philosophical opinions —
Proceeds to Italy, as Chaplain to the Earl of Peterborough —
His alarm at Leghorn — Visits Pere Malebranche — Ee
turns to Ireland with the Duke of Grafton — Vanessa's be
quest to him — Proceeds to Bermuda on a mission to con
vert the heathen — Its failure — Eeturns to England — His
work, " The Minute Philosopher" — Attracts the notice of
Queen Caroline — Is promoted to the Bishopric of Cloyne —
His conscientious scruples — His last days — His amiable
character — Baron Wainwright's verses — Berkeley's Ser
mon before the Society for Propagating the Gospel —
Berkeley represented to be insane — Impartiality of Baron
Wainwright — Death of the Dean of Christ Church, Ox
ford — Baron Wainwright's suggestion to fill up the va
cancy — Marriage of the Prince of Orange — ^Dr. Eobert
Friend — Eepeal of the Test Act — Factions in Ireland.

M2

CHAPTER VII.
BARON WAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
December 31, 1731.
Madam,
My friend. Dean Berkeley, is to wait upon
her Majesty tbis evening ; the Bishop of Bangor
carries him. Give me leave to be, as I have
often been, an advocate for the Dean with your
Ladyship, not for any particular recommendation,
but for any good offices and kind irapressions that
you see tirae and place for. They will not be
lost upon a raan unworthy, indiscreet, or un
grateful. Forget Berrauda, and he will shine
among the clergy, and do honour to the church by
his rirtue and learning. If I exceed my bounds,
who so ready to pardon warmth in friendship as
yourself ? I wish many happy years to you and
others, by the continuance of your health and
prosperity, and am, for all that I have to come.
Madam, Your ever obliged,
faithful servant,
J. Wainwright.
Bishop. Berkeley, it is well known, was, for a

166 MEMOIRS OF
considerable time, vrithout the pale of royal favour,
owing to a prevalent suspicion of his being a
.lacobite. This most amiable and singular man
was, therefore, as it now appears, not until he had
attained his forty-seventh year, (being born in
168-1,) recoraraended to the patronage of Mrs.
Clayton by Baron Wainwright. His mind, ma
tured under the tuition of Dr. Hale, at Trinity
College, Dublin, very early displayed that specu
lative turn which obtained him, as it appears fi-om
Baron Wainwright's letters, the character of being
insane. From a youth, Berkeley was addicted to the
perusal of romances, whilst his attention was also
directed to the operations of the raind by the
writings of Locke and Father Malebranche. His
early support of the doctiine of passive obedience,
by a work on that subject, prevented his rising in
the Church of Ireland; and the first occasion of
his inttoduction to Queen Caroline was an inju
rious raention of him by Lord Galway, and an
exculpatoi-y explanation on the part of Mr.
Molyneux, one of the Queen's Chaplains. This
was in 1712. Still there was much prejudice to
be effaced, as the efforts of Baron Wainwright
sufficientiy show.
In 1713, Berkeley came to JLondon, and there

LADY SUNDON. 167
published his famous work on Immaterialism,
under the form of three dialogues, between Hylas
and PhUonous, and there he formed the acquaint
ance of Swift, of Pope, and of Steele.
The speculations of Bishop Berkeley have so
long been forgotten, or set aside, that it is almost
a matter of curiosity to inquire into the natm-e of
those phUosophical di-eams which procm-ed him
the reputation of being " mad."
The object of the dialogues between Hylas and
PhUonous, " was to prove that the commonly
received notions of matter were false ; that those
things which are called sensible material objects,
are not external to the mind, but exist in it, and
are nothing more than irapressions raade on our
rainds by the imraediate act of God, according to
certain rules terraed laws of nature." * The
steady adherence to these rules, frora which our
Heavenly Father never deviates, is what consti
tutes the effects of reality to his creatures, and
distinguishes the ideas perceived by sense from
the work of the mind itself, or frora dreams.
Berkeley was not, as he was represented, a
sceptic as to the reality of our sensations, but as
to the cause of them, which he conceived not to
originate from a set of insensible material beings
* Note in Biog. Brit., Art. Berkeley.

168 MEMOIRS OF
around us, but fi-om the direct act of God upon
our minds.
HappUy for himself, the young philosophcii
was shortly afterwards engaged in the active
business of life. He accompanied Lord Peter
borough, as his Chaplain, to the Embassy at
Leghorn. Here, an amusing circumstance showed
the simplicity of Berkeley, and the absurd super
stition of the customs of the place.
" BasU Kennett, the author of the Roman
Antiquities, was then Chaplain to the English
factoi-y at Leghorn, the only place in Italy where
the English service is tolerated by the Govern
ment, a favour which had lately- been obtained
fi-om the Grand Duke, at the particular in
stance of Queen Anne. Kennett requested Mr.
Berkeley to preach for hira one Sunday. The
day following, as) Berkeley was sitting in his
charaber, a procession of priests in sui-plices and
with all other forraalities entered the room, and
without taking the least notice of the wondering
inhabitant, marched quite round it, muttering
certain prayers. His fears immediately suggested
to him that this could be no other than a visit
from the Inquisition, who had heard of his offici
ating before^heretics the day before. As soon as

LADY SUNDON. 169
they were gone, he ventured with much caution to
inquire into the cause of this extraordinary ap
pearance, and was happy to be informed that
this was the season appointed by the Romish
calendar for soleranly blessing the houses of
all good Catholics fi-om rats and other vermin ; a
piece of intelligence which changed his terror into
mirth." On his return to England, Berkeley risited at
Paris the famous Pere Malebranche. That vener
able man was cooking, in a pipkin, a recipe for
a complaint under which he was suffering — inflam
mation of the lungs. With such a disorder, it was
fatal to converse ; yet the opportunity for dis
cussion was irresistible. Malebranche entered
into a warm dispute on the opinions recently ad
vanced by Berkeley ; he raised his voice so high
and was so rauch agitated, that his complaint was
aggravated, and in a few days afterwards proved
fatal. After repeated visits to Italy, Berkeley retui-ned
home, a polite and accomplished, as well as an
ingenious man. He had a taste for architecture,
which made him acceptable to Lord Burlington,
who recommended him to the Duke of Grafton,
then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland ; and with this

170 MEMOIRS OF
nobleman he returned to his native countty, iu
1721. In the same year he became a Doctor in
Dirinity. The fiiendship of Swift, which one might sup
pose so foreign to his gentle natm-e, had one im
portant result to Berkeley. During his first visit
to London, Berkeley, inti-oduced by Swift, had
dined, occasionally, at the house of Mrs. Van-
horarigh, the mother of the deluded and self-
deceived Vanessa. A year after his return to
Ireland, Berkeley unexpectedly found hiraself
appointed the executor to Vanessa's will, vrith a
legacy of 4000Z. ; she had altered her will, on
finding that Swift was betrothed, or married to
Stella, and had made Berkeley and a Mr. Mar
shall her heirs. Berkeley, however, did not
comply -with one of her injunctions. He wisely
and delicately suppressed her correspondence
with Swift, which she had ordered him to pub
lish, and saved, it is believed, the reputation of
the desolate and injured woman for delicacy and
prudence ; for the wUd passions of Vanessa had
not the restraint of ordinary minds.
Berkeley rose in time to be Dean of Den-y, and
it was after that promotion, that he formed a plan
for converting the savage inhabitants of Bermuda
to Christianity, by means of a college in that

LADY SUNDON. 171
Island. Aided, as he hoped, by the Ministry with
the promised grant of 10,000Z., Berkeley married,
and taking out with hitn his wife and two friends,
gentiemen of fortune, he saUed to Rhode Island,
the nearest to Bermuda, and there, for two years,
endeavoured to proraote the cause which he had
at heart. He was afterwards shamefully deserted
by the Government, and after passing seven years,
in the prime of Ufe, in that ill-stan*ed undertaking,
he retumed to Europe.
His Book, " The Minute Philosopher," a work
in which he combats the Freethinker in a dialogue
after the manner of Plato, excited the attention
of the learned. Queen Caroline had a custom of
assembling around her, on one particular evening,
divines and philosophers ; among these were
Hoadley, and Sherlock, afterwards Bishop of
London. Hoadley was no friend to Berkeley;
but Sherlock sttongly espoused his interest, and
showing to his Royal patroness " The Minute
PhUosopher," inquired if he who coraposed that
work could be charged with a disordered under
standing? The Queen then sent for Berkeley,
often questioned him on subjects connected vrith
America, and derived rauch pleasure from his in
teresting conversation.
In 1733, this simple, learned man, became

172 MEMOIRS OF
Bishop of Cloyne. His zeal and benevolence
gradually shone forth, in an age when party
spirit and self-interest were shamelessly espoused,
and made the chief objects. It is to the credit of
Lord Chesterfield, that, when Lord Lieutenant, he
offered to Berkeley the See of Clogher. This
preferment, however. Bishop Berkeley decUned ;
he had becorae fondly attached to the beauties of
Cloyne ; he believed that in that diocese his
labours had been effectual ; he had, he said, all
of worldly goods that he desired ; yet Cloyne,
thus erabellished by a cheerful heart and a bright
fancy, is said to have little either remarkable or
interesting enough to have riveted the affections of
any one except the Bishojj.
. The last days of Bishop Berkeley were .spent at
Oxford ; it was his earnest wish to live in that
city, to superintend the education of one of his
sons. Conscience, however, raised a difficulty ;
the Bishop could not think it his duty to retain
his bishopric, and to live elsewhere. He earnestly
entreated that he might exchange his high station
for that of a canonry or other minor preferment ;
but George the Second, struck with this extraordi-
naty application, desfred Berkeley to be told that
he should die a Bishop in spite of himself, and
gave him leave to live where he liked.

LADY SUNDON. 173
Life was now becoming a burthen to Berkeley ;
he had in vain had recourse to his famous tar-
water, on which he wrote a work full of erudition
and piety, rising from the humble theme to the
contemplation of Supreme Benevolence. His
sufferings, occasioned by a sedentary life, were
increased by exercise. The release of this puri
fied spirit from earth was, at the last, sudden.
One Sunday he sat araong his faraily, listening to
a sermon of Dr. Sherlock, which his wife was
reading to him ; he was struck by a palsy of the
heart, and died instantly. No one perceived the
change ; he fell, as it were, asleep — his last
thoughts employed on the subjects to which his
life had been devoted. His revered form was
cold, and his limbs stiff, when his daughter,
rising to offer him sorae tea, perceived that he
was insensible. He expired on the 14th January,
1753. In person, Berkeley was handsome and robust;
very strong, and with a countenance beaming
with intelligence and goodness. His character,
a model for the clergyman, a study for all, cannot
be well described in a slight sketch. Pope ex
aggerated not, when he attributed to Berkeley
every virtue under Heaven. Yet this excellent
man was the therae of ridicule to those who could

174 MEMOIRS OF
not pardon his flights of fancy, nor account foi
his angelic disinterestedness of character.
Thus wrote Lord Chesterfield about the Bishop:
" I heaitily vrish that both he and his brothei-
Berkeley (who is ti-uly* the title of his own book)
would keep their minute philosophy to themselves ;
or at least would let religion alone, and not blend
them into one inconsistent lump. They both
seera to me to be well qualified to dress out a
romance. Dean Berkeley, particularly, has beau
tiful imagery, and fine expression, and fruitful
invention. But as to the native simplicity of
religion, they ai-e made to hurt it ; and if they
cannot be said to coiTupt it, it is only because it
is already corrupted in their hands. They do all
they can to keep on the corruption ; and I own I
think Alciphron the most plain attempt to bring
obscurity and darkness into all sciences, as well
as to make nonsense essential to religion, that
this last age has produced. And I know very
well, that it was from such books, formed upon
such principles exactly, that Dr. Clarke used to
dread and foretel the total subversion of all
knowledge, as well of all religion ; of all that Sfr
Isaac Newton, Mr. Locke, he himself, and many
others had been endeavouring to bring into some
* The Minute Philosopher.

LADY SUNDON. 175
reputation. I cannot indeed say that the veU is.
well made, or well spread. I think it may very
easily be taken off, and the absurdities placed in
a glaring light, as I have heard acknowledged in
many instances by the greatest admirers of these
dialogues. I would not have you think that I
put the two upon an equal foot. But when I see
even the best of the two, flattered and caressed for
those very wounds he has given to all that is most
worthy of the study or regard of reasonable crea
tures, I cannot help making an ejaculation — To
what purpose are all endeavours to make know
ledge and religion plain and amiable, when a few
pretty words, either without a meaning, or a very
bad one, shall, like a charm, dissolve and tear to
pieces all the labours of the great !"
Chesterfield, the cold-hearted man of the world,
could, however, appreciate the raerits which ap
pear also to have been lost upon Hoadley ; whilst
Bishop Atterbury is reported to have said of
Berkeley, " So much learning, so rauch under
standing, so rauch innocence, and such humUity,
I did not think had been the portion of any but
angels, until I knew this gentleman."
To Berkeley is attributed that exquisite ro
mance, " Gaudentio di Lucca," worthy of his
pure, imaginative, and beautifiU mind.

176 MEMOIRS OF
Mrs. Clayton had, it appears, given her friend
the Baron the excellent advice to lay his verses
aside for a few days, " to let them cool."
BARON wainwright TO MRS. CLAYTON.
April 11, 1731.
Madam,
You ordered, and I have obeyed ; the verses
have been laid aside and quite cooled, and I have
tried a new heat, at the distance of several days,
and brought them again to the anvil, and two
prologues are the produce. I own the two last
lines of the first, which are new, are owing to
some doctrines which I have lately seen advanced
by the State writers, which seem to me to take
away all regard to the King's birthright. I am
sincerely of opinion, that the Revolution was just
and right, and I think it so, because when it was
brought about, wc kept as near to the Constitution
as possible, and the same just design M^as pur
sued by the Act of Settieraent. I could give your
Ladyship a reason of what I do, say, or write,
and to be approved or corrected will be a pleasure
and advantage to me.
The Dean* is in a great distress. He preached
a sermon before the Society for Propagating the
Gospel in Foreign Parts. This sermon is annual,
and always printed. When it is printed, it is
usually presented to the King, the Queen, the
Prince, the Duke, the Princesses, and the Ladies of
* Berkeley.

LADY SUNDON. 177
the Bedchamber. The Dean is really so UI, it is
impossible for him to go through the ceremony ;
he has actually a blister on his head at this time.
One of his sermons-is devoted to your Ladyship,
and if he might put that for her Majesty into
your hands, he would esteera it a favour. I was
no judge whether it was proper, but I would ac
quaint you with it.
I have transcribed the last foul drafts in fair
sheet singly, as I did the former ; if anything
would make me averse to crossing the water, the
last conversation would do it. I ara prepared in
every other respect to be pleased with my lot,
wherever it falls. I am. Madam,
Your obedient, humble servant,
J. Wainwright.
It was the fashion of the day, especially in
Ireland, to represent Berkeley as deranged ; we
cannot but sympathize with the generous excul
pation of Baron Wainwright, of this excellent
man. BARON WAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
February 19, 1731.
Madam, I send your Ladyship the testimony of my
friend's respect to you, and his regard to your
judgment ; at the same time, I am sorry to let you
know, what you will soon hear, how cruelly he
VOL. II. N

178 MEMOIRS OF
has been misrepresented fiom Ireland, by the
interest or prejudices of some competitor or enemy.
If it were the voice of that nation, I would say, it
is a part of the world not woi'thy of him ; but I
believe it is tiie whisper of a few, perhaps one
subtle, designing man, and concerned I am, that
it has been admitted and had an influence with a
person whom I highly honour, for I fear in the
event, it will give an advantage to those who are
willing to restrain his power.
It has been represented, that the Dean is un-
beloved and disagreeable in his own country ; for
what ? Whilst he was among them, they chose
him to write the inseription which is under the
statue of his late Majesty, and afterwards he was
desired to wait upon his jiresent Majesty, when
he accepted of being Chancellor of the University
of Dublin, and preserves the golden medal given
him on that occa.sion, to this day. Did they
choose a madman for these purposes ? What
have they known of him since .' He has not been
among them, but has been known in England and
other parts of Europe and America ; and where
has he been unbeloved or unvalued ?
The generosity of y^our own heart will excuse
the overflowings of mine, and I may venture to
say you will find no common indignation upon
this occasion in persons of great rank, abilities,
and power. Perhaps I write with greater vf'armth
than becomes rae, and such as might hurt me

LADY SUNDON. 179
with any but yourself; but it is a lesson I have
learned from you, to open my mind with the same
truth that I ever profess rayself.
Madam, Your obliged and faithful
hurable servant,
J. Wainwright.
The following letter is a fine contt-ast to the
party views of other correspondents : — ¦
B.ARON WAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, November 28, 1732.
Madam,
I have gone through one term that ended
this day, with satisfaction to myself; what I
wanted in experience I have endeavoured to
make up in diligence, and will give the Irish no
occasion to say that the English live upon their
labour ; that is a poor subsistence, and they are
very sparing of it, for laziness is a national fault.
I must say, however, that the business of the law
is justiy and industriously discharged : there is an
upright bench of judges, and a learned bar; and
sincerely, there is a pleasure beyond what I hoped
or expected, in employing the raind constantlv,
and exercising one of the principal virtues totally
divested of any partiality and prejudice ; for I am
embarked with no particular families, no parties
nor habituated to any friendships or affections
N 2

180 MEMOIRS OF
here, and have no irapressions of dislike or
esteem that can imjjerceptibly come upou mc
and govern my opinion : in short, I serve the
King faithfully, and do the best justice I can to
tlie people, and always remember with gratitude
the kind influence which jjlaced me here.
The Bishop of KiUala is come to town ; we
shall meet oftener in the vacation than ^^•e have
been able to do yet. Our respect and obligations
to you will increase our former fiiendship ; and
our regard to your recommendation will make us
watch our conduct, so as to give no offence to tlie
Governraent here ; and I am sure fidelity and
affection to their Majesties and the Royal Faraily
is a vital principle in us both. I have had a
letter fi-om .lack Friend, by which I really beUeve
he will fbllow the law in earnest. If he does, it
will be a great pleasure to me to lead him on in
that part of life. His interests Mill be under .i,
better guardian.
My wife desires leave to present her humble
respects to you, and I am Mr. Clayton's and,
Madam,
Your most obliged servant,
J. Wainwright.
Oxford had long been the very centre of
Jacobitism ; and on the occasion gf the death of
the Dean of Christchurch, Baron Wainwright
in his next letter vety wisely suggests such an ap
pointment as would lead the disaffected to loyalty.

lady sundon. 181
baron wainwright to MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, December 26, 1732.
Madam,
The last packet brought us the news that the
Dean of Christchm-ch is dead. The way is now
open to fix and warm that College in duty and
affection to their Majesties and the Royal Family.
I wish as much to see it there, as I did in West
minster-school, and do to see it everywhere ; an
acceptable person may lead them, and those that
will not drive would follow, like a flock of sheep.
As far as I know thera, they are not Jacobites ;
they went unaniraously against a person who set
up on that foot.
I do not write this from an opinion that I can
suggest any thoughts which do not occur to you,
where you can serve your Sovereigns. A proper
Dean to receive Royal guests, a visit, a sight of
their persons, and the Duke's continuance any
time among them, would raake thefr hearts as the
heart of one raan. Perhaps I go too far, and zeal
that causes will excuse impertinence that pro
ceeds from loyalty and gratitude. You will par
don in. Madam,
Your humble and faithful servant,
J. Wainwright.
In 1733, the Prince of Orange arrived in
England, in order to espouse the Princess Royal ;
but the nuptials were postponed on account of his

182 MEMOIRS OF
being taken ill, and he repaired to Bath — the then
fashionable and certain cure of every species of
diseases. The marriage took place, however, in
the course of that yeai-. It is to celebrate this
event that Baron Wainwiight says, that the hai-ps
should be resigned into the hands of younger
poets, whom the subjects might inspire.
Dr. Robert Fiiend, the con-espondent of Mrs.
Clayton, ran a safer career than his distinguished
brother, whose scientific studies were singularly
intei-mingled with politics. Dr. John Friend, being
suspected of a share in Atterbury's plot to restore
the Stuarts, was committed to the Tower, during
the suspension of the Habeas Corpus in 1722-3.
He was released after three months' imprisonraent.
The generous conduct of Dr. Mead, on this oc
casion, has been justly commended. He refused
to attend Sir Robert Walpole until Friend was
released, and afterwards remitted the Doctor five
thousand guineas, which he had received from
his patients during his captivity.
When his brother was committed to the Tower,
Robert Friend gave to the Westminster boys this
theme — " Frater, nedesere Frati-um," which ex
cited much speculation.
Dr. Friend died in 1715. His wife, the
daughter of Dr. Samuel Delaney, Prebend of

LADY SUNDON. 183
Westminster, seems to have been highly esteeraed
by Mrs. Montagu, and others of that accoraplished
group of friends who afterwards acquired the
name of " les bas bleus." Dr. Friend was a poet
in his own day, but has ceased to be so in ours ;
his poems having gone out of fashion with the
powdered wigs and patches of the last century,
and perhaps with as good reason.
BARON wainwright TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, January 1, 1733.
Madam, ,
My wishes of health and many happy years
to you and Mr. Clayton, though they cross the
sea will not be less ardent than those of the
nearest to ¦ you ; in this I will scarce yield to my
master. Dr. Friend himself If he presided at
Westminster, (he will ever preside there,) I
should think a raeeting upon the occasion of the
mairiage desirable. The subject would inspire
younger poets, and we might resign our harps
into their hands. My desire was always gently
and by degrees to instil into the minds of the
youth, and imprint in the soft clay, duty and af
fection to this Royal Family, nor did I ever think
they were so stiff and hardened at Oxford but
that success would have attended the same steps
there. I hope the streams that flow fr-om West
minster will mend those of Isis.
I should be glad to hear that your charge, who

184

memoirs of

for your sake and his father's is also mine, has
your approbation in the progress of his studies ;
it is now time he should send me an account how
far he has proceeded upon my plan. I will write
to him very soon, to desire that.
Attendance upon the Parliament, and matters
that arise there, take up much of our time. The
repeal of the Test, was, for some time, matter of
great expectation. The Dissenters certainly de
ceived themselves ; they have little interest in this
Kingdom ; they made out a list of votes, and pre
tended many persons had promised, who abso
lutely denied and declared against them: this is
matter of fact, which we all know here. I believe
the King's servants would aU have obeyed his ab
solute command, had it been his pleasure to have
laid that upon them, and submitted their private
opinions to his judgment ; but all the weight that
could have been laid, even a dissolution, would
not have carried it through the Coramons.
I was in that house, when in a manner unparlia
mentary, they declared the house was then full,
and gentlemen would be soon going into the
countty ; and as they had been long under an ap
prehension of an attempt to repeal the Test, it
was fit, if there was such a design, it should be
considered in a full house, and therefore they
fixed a short day, beyond which they declared
against receiving any proposal of that kind. I
never saw upon any question so great an appear
ance of sttength on one side, and weakness on the

LADY SUNDON. 185
other : one would scarce have thought there had
been a raan for them in the house ; there was no
room for a division. The prudence of a gentleman
with whom I am acquainted prevented a rumour,
of insttucting their representatives how to behave,
from running through the Kingdom on this occa
sion, as it did through England on the Excise.
His corporation were preparing to do it. The
example had certainly been followed. He dis
suaded them, by assurances that this was no time
of danger. I wUl not enter into the raerits, but
confine rayself to facts. The Dissenters were
here quite easy with the Church and all of fortune
daily coming over.
The persons that would have been qualified to
act as Justices of Peace by the Repeal are not
more than twelve in the Kingdom. They are
divided into two sects ; the Old and New Lights.
The old are of the most rigid of the Scotch Kirk ;
the new, Latitudinarians embracing all religions,
among whom I always suspect Jesuits to creep in.
I am told the people sent us solicitors here, who
carried tiie work on at some expense of eating
and drinking, and now they return without suc
cess. The contributions that have been raised
becorae grievous ; so I suppose they raust lay the
blame on my Lord Lieutenant, who could not
have attempted the matter sooner without preju
dice to the necessary affairs, and could not have
carried it by any art or rigour, and v\'ho had
the opinion of the chief persons in and out of

186 memoirs of
the King's council, that it should not now be
tried. Though in the instance I have given of the con
tending pai-ties and factions, all united, as a bear,
puts an end to the quarrels of tiiose that bait him ;
yet, in an Irish House of Commons, I have often
tiiought of those lately extolled forms of Govern
ment, the Commonwealths; their wild and broken
dirisions, their hearty hatred to each other, their
tumultuous and rash resolutions, have made me
think myself in Athens or Rome, and not in St.
Pattick's country.
I send you two papers, which perhaps Mr.
Clayton may not be displeased to see. One is
only a calculation with regard to the Dissenters in
the province where they most abound; in the
other three provinces, they are of no note or con
sideration. The other is a calculation of tho state of the
Roman Catholics of this kingdom. As to their num
bers, I fear they are more, though this be drawn
by a return from the hearth-raoney collectors, who
go over all the Kingdom, and visit every house and
cabin ; but as religion is not their business, their
inqufry is not diligent, nor their return exact
Good Madam, excuse this long letter. I wUl
never ttouble you vrith so much politics. I am,
through all the years of life,
Madam,
Your ever obliged, faithful humble servant,
J. Wainwright.

LADY SUNDON. 187
Poor Ireland ! how melancholy is every account,
in evety period, of this divided and suffering
country. Swift describes Dublin, at this time, as
being alraost deserted by the opulent. " There
are not," he writes to Pope, " three gentlemen out
of employments who are able to give entertainments
once a month. Those who are in eraployraents of
Church or State are three parts in four fi-ora
England, and amount to little more than a dozen."
" All my acquaintance tell rae they know not above
three families where they can dine occasionally
in a year." " It is true, om- wine and meat is
cheaper here ; as it is always in the poorest
countries, because there is no money to pay for
them."* He adds afterwards, that he means to be
buried at Holyhead, for he could not die in a land
of slaves. * Swift's Letters to Pope, July 8, 1733.

CHAPTER VIII.

Bishop Hoadley's opinion of Mrs. Clayton — His remarks on
political controversies — Pope's Essay on Man — The Bishop
of Gloucester — Dr. Alured Clarke's opinion of the Essay on
Man — The Emperor Vespasian, a patron of men of letters
— The people of England and the Excise — The Bishop of
Killala and the Irish Secretary — An useful piece of advice
— A courtier ill rewarded — His desire to be promoted to
the Bishopric of Meath — Another specimen of the Bishop's
subserviency.

CHAPTER vm.
Many of these letters, having probably been
inclosed in franks, are without dates — a circum
stance which leads to much confusion. We are
apt to say with Swift —
" I wish, when you'd prated,
Your letter, you'd dated."
The foUowing extract of a letter fi-om Bishop
Hoadley to Mrs. Clayton shows the very high
opinion that prelate entertained of his correspon
dent. The subsequent allusions to the Govern
ment prosecutions of the Press are marked by
sound sense,
bishop hoadley to MRS. CLAYTON.
I hope, Madara, you have, ere this, received my
last letter, arid forgiven the leng-th of it, as well as
every expression in it. When I write to you, I
always think I am writing to a person of excellent
understanding, who can temper the meaning of
an expression or a word, and not think rae so

192 MEMOIRS OF
weak as to intend flattery in what, I own, would
sound a little extravagant were it said to most
others. When I use the highest expressions of
you, I know you cannot think I intend to place
you out of the rank of mankind, or to exerapt
you from the frailties and passions inseparable,
in some instances or other, from our nature. I
compare you in my thoughts vs'ith others of the
same kind, and I see, \\itli pleasure, so great a
superiority to the many, that I think I can hardly
express my sense of it strong enough. Com
pared with them, therefore, I may justly speak of
you as of one of a superior species ; and you wUl
supply the comparison if I do not always ex
press it, and not think me capable of offering
incense, which I know you are not capable of
receiving. In a word, I would be understood, in
all such cases, as expressing the pleasure of a
friend, and the sense he has of his hai^piness in
the friendship of one whose understanding and
whose heart are both so free from those uncom
fortable imperfections which very many labour
under, even of those who pass through the world
with some character and reputation.
I left myself no time, when I last wrote, to say
anything but upon one subject; and I think I am
now running on as if it would be so 'again. But
I stop my pen, for once, in the course. I was not
a little concemed to see the war from the press
at last break into an excess; but then, on the
other side, what can be proposed by the Adminis-

LADY SUNDON. 193
tration from the prosecution of printers and pub
lishers now again, after so many disappointments,
set on foot? I defy thera to narae any one
iiLstance (excepting the case of high treason) in
which a prosecution of this sort did not end to
the prejudice of the Administration, even where
they succeeded in the sentence for punishment ;
rauch less where they perhaps can never succeed,
but must go on still to disappointment, as they
have done already. I wish they would consider
this experience, instead of consulting their present
anger. I am sure I would presently name them
twenty instances of the truth of what I now say,
and what I have often said to them and theirs
heretofore. One advantage plainly comes to the
clergy frora these late political controversies, —
that the laity will never again be able to reproach
thera, as the only raasters of ill-language and
scandal in controversy ; for certainly the lay
gentlemen have at last outdone thera, by many de
grees, — I hope enough to make the clergy them
selves forsake the bitter style and their bad man
ners upon such occasions, now they see how
shocking and indecent these are, even in those
who do not profess so much regard for religion as
they do. There may be a sort of pleasure in
reading the keenness and wit of a writer ; yet
it cannot make amends either for the littleness
to which he descends, or the enormities he rises
to in his wrath.* * Life of Bishop Hoadley, by his Son.
VOL. II. O

194 MEMOIRS OF
Pope's Essay on ilan was published anony
mously ; it elicited few criticisms more favour
able than those given by Dr. Alured Clarke.
Swift pretended afterwards to have detected the
writer. " Sm-ety, I never doubted your Essay on
Man; and I would lay any odds that I woidd
never fail to discover you in six lines, unless you
had a mind to write below or beside yourself on
purpose. I confess I never did imagine you were
so deep in morals, or that so many new and
excellent rules could be produced so advan
tageously and agreeably in that science, fi-om any
head. I confess, in some few places, I was forced
to read twice."
DR. ALURED CLARKE TO MRS. CLAVTO.V.
Winchester, April 10, 1733.
Honoured Madam,
I hope to see Dr. Fiiend here some time
next week, after which I intend to show myself
to ray fiiends in London, for which reason I am
in no disposition of saying anything to you with
regard to books or other trifles, which I promise
rayself the much greater satisfaction of talking
over at your leisure hours. I am afraid I shall
not be able to stay so long in town as I should be
glad to do, unless I could muster up virtue enough
to make no visits but to the few fiiends I can have
much sincere regard for. I have been much con-

LADY SUNDON. 195
cerned at the accounts of the good Bishop of
Gloucester's decayed condition, and I think it is
an afllicting circurastance that men of such real
worth are seldom known or brought into the world
till the world is almost at an end with them. But
the first Essay on Man sets these things right in
one's mind ; and I fancied for some time after I
had read it, that tiie poet had enabled rae to be a
perfect hero in affliction, if it had come soon in
my way to be put to the trial. I hope the author
(when he is known) will be found to be a very
good man, or else his scholars — that is, his readers
— ^raust be very rauch mortified. I think, upon
the whole, it is the most extraordinary per
formance I have met with ; and if the man and
his work are of a piece, I wish he may meet with
as good a fiiend as Vespasian, the Roman Em
peror, was said to be, who, though otherwise very^
penurious, gave annual pensions of 800/. per
annura to good orators and poets, and not above
haU as rauch to a ragged lord. I have seen the
Second Essay, which in many places is too hard
to be understood; and taken altogether, is, I
think, not comparable to the first, though it has
many beauties. But I did not intend to say
a word of books, and do not know how I got into
the feast.
I find this place much quieter than Bristol, in
these noisy times; for I have less raoney and
more wit than those Dutchified traders, who will
o 2

196 MEMOIRS OF
serve no Prince but in subordination to the idol
of Riches, which they fall down to worship.
I think the present times may convince u-s that
the parsons are not the only puoijle who can raise
a mob and spread an universal infatuation. The
people of England seem to me to reason upon
the Excise as some of our fatiiers do upon the
Bible ; and the reasoners of both kinds have an
uncommon attention paid to them by jDeople that
are rauch wiser than themselves, and that would
not give a lawyer a farthing for pleading for them
in such a manner at the bar. I hope Mr. C'layton
and you are in good health, and am always, with
the greatest deference.
Ever honoured Madam,
Your most obliged,
most devoted humble servant,
Alured Clarke.
the BISHOP OF killala TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, January 3, 1733.
Madam, Last Tuesday, I did myself the honour of
writing a long letter to you, informing you how
affairs stood at that time. On Wednesday morn
ing, the Duke sent for me, and to my great sur
prise, told me that the Bishop of Dublin had been
with him, to recommend the Bishop of Cloyne,
and made use of your name to put a stop to my
promotion, and averred to the Duke, that it was
not your mtentions that I should be removed

LADY SUNDON. 197
from Killala for some time yet; that he had
talked with you about it, and that you had posi
tively told him so, and that you promised him to
write to me about it. I was thunderstruck, but
ventured to assure the Duke, that I never had
received such a letter ; that about two years ago,
when the Bishopric of Meath was then vacant, I
had wrote you word what his Grace then said to
me ; and that you returned in answer, that you
was pleased I had not attempted to remove so
soon ; but that if I would have patience, you did
not doubt I should attain to everything I could
expect; that I have had the honour of several
letters from you since, wherein you ordered me to
behave dutifully to his Grace, and to take care to
live well with the Primate and the Archbishop of
Dublin, because if they were ray enemies, any
rise which I might propose to myself would then
go very hard : this, I told his Grace, did not
look as if you intended to tie me down to Killala.
I do not know how to express the gratitude which
I owe to the Duke. I am confident he is de
sirous to serve me, having in a. serious raanner
assured me that, in his opinion, I was the fittest
person on the Bishop's bench to be made Bishop
of Meath, both for the service of the King and the
Bishopric, were it not that the station is too in
vidious to be given to so young a man, when the
two Archbishops oppose rae.
And now give me leave to inform you, that my
predecessor, Dr. Howard, was but just three

198 MEMOIRS OF
years Bishop of Killala, when he was translated
to the Bishopric of Elphin, which is in income
equal to that of Meath. The Bishop of Killala
before him was Dr. Cobb, who is the present
Bishop of Kildare ; he was, indeed, near six years
Bishop of Killala, and I should not wonder if he
had been Bishop of Killala to this day. The
next before him was Dr. Dowers, who is the pre
sent Bishop of Derry ; he was not quite three
years Bishop of Killala when he was also
removed to Elphin. I have now been four years
Bishop of Killala, during which time the Bishop
of Cloyne has already been once removed. But
if it be your pleasure that I should abide where
1 am, I shall with the gi-eatest readiness comply
with it, and shall endeavour to convince you that
I am, with all due submission.
Madam, Your most obliged, and
most obedient humble servant,
Robert Killala.
Madam,
Since I wrote the foregoing letter, the Duke
was so good as to send for me again, and told me
that what the Archbishop of Dublin said was only
a fetch to make way for the Bishop of Cloyne,
and that he would take no notice of it. That he
had a scheme of removing the Bishop of Kilraore,
if that Bishop accepted of Meath : that he was
to have the Bishop's answer this night, and has
ordered me to wait upon him to-morrow ; but.

LADY SUNDON. 199
in the raeantime, bid me think about Kildare, if
the Bishop of KUmore should refuse to change.
I told his Grace, that he might dispose of me just
as he pleased ; and owned it would grieve me to
the heart to see everybody promoted around me,
whUe I was the only person not worthy of being
taken notice of. Let it be what it would, I would
never inqufre into the incorae, but should accept
whatever he was pleased to give me with great
thankfulness, and should value it more, as it was
a mark of his favoui- and affection than for any-
tlmig else that I could possibly get by it.
The unworthy jealousy and littleness bettayed
in this communication requfres no comment.
the bishop of killala to MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, January 17, 1733.
Madam,
I had the honour of a vei-y obliging letter fi-om
you by the last post, and assure you that I find
myself infinitely more happy in reading the kind
expressions of your friendship, than the greatest
promotions in the world could make me without
them. I believe you were somewhat surprised at
the last letter you received from me. I own that
my pride was a little mortified when I -wrote it,
and continued so for a few hours ; but the next
moming I rose just the same happy man that
I was the night before, when I went to bed vrith
expectations of a removal. I still believe the

200 .AIEMOIRS OF
Duke has a regard for me ; but attribute the
alteration of his designs entirely to the Secretary,
and am daily convinced tht' more of it fi-om the
awkward civilities he now shows me more than
formerly. If he does not hurt me in the Duke's
good opinion, I shall not be solicitous about any
thing else.
You are so good as to give rae a usefiil piece
of adrice in your letter, when you siiy that the
only way to be better for the favour and protec
tion of great people is not to make it too difficult
to thera. This is what I ara very sensible of, and
that was the reason of my releasing the Duke fi-ora
his engagement ; for it is not a pleasant thing to
see other people put over one's head, where the
difference of merit is not very great, only for
having paid a servile court where I did not think
it proper to apply.
I have since done all the service I could for
the Duke, both in the House of Commons and
Lords, and behave myself to everybody just in
the same raanner that I did before this affair hap
pened. I rely upon your good will for doing me
justice with the Queen, and letting her know that
it is not for want of a grateful mind or a dutiful
behariour to his Majesty that I am not takeii
notice of in these promotions, and do not doubt
but when the Duke goes into England, he will
give as good an account of my behaviour as he
did when he was last there.
I must desire you will present my best services

LADY SUNDON. 201
to Mr. Clayton, and accept of the sincere and
grateful acknowledgments of
Your most obliged, and
most obedient humble servant,
Robert Killala.
One raore specimen of Bishop Clayton's sub
serviency and duplicity we find in the following
letter : —
THE bishop OF KILLALA TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Killala, August 23, 1733.
Madam,
I am infinitely obliged to you for your very
kind and friendly letter. As to the picture, I
shall say no more but to assure you, that I think
the trouble of sending it gi-eatly- overpaid by the
honour you have done me in accepting it. I pro
pose being in Dublin some days before the Par
liament meets ; but shall be detained in this place
by necessary business a little longer than I at
first proposed. You may depend upon my doing
everything 1 can to make the Duke's Administra
tion as easy as possible. You are so good as to
mention that, besides his being your friend, this
kind of behaviour raay contribute to my own in
terest. Could a thought of this kind rise in my
mind in competition with your friendship, I
should ill deserve the favours you have conferred
upon me. I have a real personal value for the
Duke ; his behaviour towards me has been so

202 MEMOIRS OF
obliging. I should be glad to do it, ijurely on
account ofthe esteera which I have for him.
As to the Primate and Bishop of Dublin, I
would live well with them for my ow-ii sake. 1
hope I am ]n-etty well with theni at jnesent, and
shall endeavour to continue so ; but 1 know it is
not in my power to be a prime favourite ; nor do
I think it would be much for my interest. I know
they may do me disservice, therefore I ought to
keep well with theni ; but 1 know they will never
serve me, therefore I ought only to keep well
with them. Wherever the King's business is to
be done, there is nobody joins more heartily with
thera ; but if I always went in with them, I should
lose my credit, and be thought a fool, and be
disabled from serving their superiors in more
sub.stantial things. In the last sessions, I always
consulted the Duke, and had his approbation
before I \entured to do it. But this t;hey know
nothing of; and. Madam, a man who can ven
ture sometimes to think for himself, will never be
a prime favourite with them ; but this method of
reasoning I entirely subrait to your better judg
ment. I have said the more upon this head, be
cause I apprehend, from some words in your letter,
that somebody has hinted to you, as if some
person on this side of the water, who thinks in a
different manner from the Archbishop of Dublin
and Primate, had some influence over rae.
Your words are these : " If you meet with any
friends that reason after any other manner, do
not attend to it, but believe I put you into the

LADY SUNDON. 203
right road." Now, give me leave to assure you,
and I think you may depend upon my word,
that there is nobody on this side the water who
has the least influence over me : you have put me
above it ; and I should be a fool, as well as an
ungrateful person, if I could prefer anybody's
ad\ice to yours. I endeavour, in the general
tenour of my life, to be sincere, but it would be
the height of folly in me to be insincere to you,
when you do me the honour of receiring my
letters. I assure you, I always lay my heart open
to you, and I do it the more willingly, not only
on account of the confidence you have given me
reason to place in y^ou, but in hopes also of
receiving your advice, which I wish I had abilities
to follow equal to my inclinations.
My wife is sensible of the honour you have
done her, in remembering her, and desires rae to
return you her sincere thanks. The eompUment
which you are pleased to make me would much
more properly have become my mouth, had I the
happiness of being able to express myself so
politely. I must desire you will present my best
services to Mr. Clayton, who ara,
Madara,
Your most obliged, and
most obedient humble servant,
Robert Killala.
In a subsequent chapter the reader wUl find
the remainder of this prelate's curious correspond
ence with his powerful kinswoman.

CHAPTER IX.

Somerville's complimentary letter to Mrs. Clayton, with a copy
of "The Chase" — His opinion of hunting — Desires the
patronage of the Prince of Wales — Somerville's birthplace
— The Poet a specimen of the country gentleman — Lord
Somerville — The Chase — The Queen's letter to the Duchess
of Orleans— Eoyal gardens in France compared with those
in England — Popularity of Dr. Friend — Mrs. Montague's
description of Pbre Courayer — His speech to the Assembly
of Protestant Divines — Dr. Seeker's Sermon — Dr. Winter,
of Bath, attempts self-destruction — Baron Wainwright and
his friends in Ireland — Lord Hervey, a favourite at Court
— The Duke of Grafton his rival — His literary talent — His
son marries Miss Chudleigh — Hervey, Bishop of Derry —
The Koyal Circle at Hampton Court — Lord Hervey's new
view of locomotion — Proceedings at Hampton Court — A
martyr to a Court — A night in a Palace — Stanislaus chosen
King of Poland — Lady Chesterfield's match.

CHAPTER IX.
Among our poetical classics a respectable
place has been accorded by Dr. Johnson to the
writer of the following letters, who, though a plain
country squire, devoted to the sports of the field,
and too greatly attached to his native Warwick
shire to desire to change it for the pleasures of
the town, or the attractions of the Court, was
ambitious that his rustic muse should find favour
in a palace. In the postscript to each, he will be
found acknowledging relationship to the Claytons
— following the example of more than one corre
spondent of even higher rank. Yet Mr, Somer
ville was as well connected as he was v^-ell in
formed, and possessed a good estate. Besides
" The Chase," with which his name is most com
monly associated, Somerville was the author of
" Hobbinol, or Rural Games," — a clever mock-
heroic, — " Field Sports," and several other
pleasing poems, which are still held in much
respect as a portion of the sportsman's library.

208 memoirs of
He was the intimate fiiend of Slienstone, who
erected to his nieniory a monumental urn at the
Leasowes, shortly after his death, whicli occurred
at Wotton, neai- Henley-in-Arden, on the 29th of
July, 1742, in his fiftieth year. lie could also
boast of the friendship of several persons of dis
tinction, particularly of the nobleman mentioned
by him, who was one of the representative Peers
of Scotland. He was extremely hospitable, and
so far exceeded his income, that, during the latter
portion of his life, he suffered severely from pecu
niary embarrassments.
WILLIAM somerville, ESQ. TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Edston, June 5, 1733.
]\Iadam, I could never yet think any of my poetical
triiles worthy your perusal ; but as I heard you once
in conversation say that you prefened blank verse
tl) rhyme, indulge me in the vanity of laying this
poem at your feet. You will readily observe that
I imitate Virgil's Georgics, particularly^ his third,
upon Cattle, and I have endeavoured to follow
Mr. Addison's insti-uction in his Essay on this
manner of writing. Hunting has been the diver
sion of the most consummate heroes of antiquity ;
and is now the entertainment of every polite
court abroad, but has received its greatest mark
of honom- by the encourageraent v>hich has been

LADY SUNDON. 209
given it by our whole Royal Family at horae,
I hope, therefore, an old huntsman may be
excused if, in the fulness of his heart, he has
scribbled on this subject.
But I know not what apology to make for pre
senting so raean a perforraance to a lady of your
refined taste. I shall have at least this advan
tage — if you approve, it will do rae honour ; if not,
I have had ray amusements, and shall suffer only
a fate with the rest of my poetical brethren who
have the mortification to see their works die before
them. Have the goodness, madara, to accept it
from the hands of my Lord Somerville, with whom
I have the honour of an intiraate friendship, and
believe me to be, with all possible respect,
Your most obedient,
and most hurable servant,
W. Somerville.
I beg my most humble service to my Cousin
Clayton. WILLIAM somerville, ESQ. TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Edston, July 7, 1733.
Madam,
I had the honour of yours this morning,
inclosed in a letter fi-om Lord Somerville. I ara
very much at a loss in what manner to return my
most humble thanks for your great goodness to
ine upon this occasion; but I know you will
receive my poor acknowledgments, because I can
assure you they come from a most grateful heart.
Your being pleased with my Poem, is stamping
VOL. II. p

210 MEMOIRS OF
such a merit upon it, that I shall no longer fear
to make it public, and if his Royal Highness will
permit rae to lay it at his feet, I shall very justly
be proud of so great an honour. I am very
sensible that " The Chase ' by no means deserves
such a patton ; but here, also, your goodness
comes to my aid, and has found out the best way
in the world to improve it, by submitting it to the
correction of the most knowing judge of works of
this nature that perhaps any age has produced.
I should indeed tremble at Dr. Friend's reading
my poor performance, did I not know his candour
to be equal to his judgment.
I ara infinitely obliged to you for the favour
able character you have gi^¦en of me : I shall
always be ambitious to deserve it ; and though I
am conscious it will be impossible for me to
reach it in some points, yet I hope my^ constant
zeal for the Royal Family will in some measure
excuse my defects.
I ara. Madam,
with all possible respect,
your most obedient, and
most obliged humble servant,
W. Somerville.
I beg ray most humble serrice to my Cousin
Clayton.
Somerville was a fine-sf)irited, conrivial country
gentleman, whose pattimonial estate was situate
in that portion of the county of Warwick, which

LADY SUNDON. 211
is said to have more old land in it — that is,
more lands still originally held by the descend
ants of the first owners of the estates — than
any place in England. This is in the vicinity
of the fair town of Stt-atford-on-Avon ; and a
few miles from that classic borough was the
family seat of the Somervilles. Edston, as the
Poet spells it, or Eadston, as it is sorae
tiraes written, is on the Birmingham side of
Sttatford, and situated not far fi-om the old
Manor of Clopton, in which, during the time
of Shakspeare, dwelt Sir Hugh Clopton, and
where several traditions attest the interest and
antiquity of the spot. No trace is left at Edston
of WUIiam Somerville's abode. A spacious man
sion, the residence of Mrs. Phillips, stands near
a fine artificial sheet of water ; the woods are of
comparatively recent growth ; and luxuries, such
as the author of " The Chase " never dreamed of,
are there to be found. Yet the neighbourhood
has still about it the syivan character which may
have inspired " The Chase ;" and the love of the
chase is still a characteristic of all true Warwick
shire Squfres.
The Poet was a specimen of the countty gentle
man of his day, as far as conviriality went ; his
ancestors had lived at Edston fr-om the time of
p2

212 memoirs of
Edward the Ffrst, and after completing his edu
cation at New CoUege, Oxford, the gay-hearted
young man planted himself there, blessed with a
rent-roll of 1 500/. a year, out of which there was
an annuity of 600Z. a y^ear to his mother. He
became a justice of the peace ; and between the
duties of the office, the pleasures of the hunting-
field, and the labours of the pen, time might
have passed both pleasantly and profitably. But
Somerville was too careless of his means, — and,
as we have said, too hospitable, when hospitality
implied a profuse, if not extravagant table, — too
good-natured and poetical to attend to his aff'airs.
He ran into debt ; and, as his friend Shenstone ex
pressed it, " drank hiraself into pains of the body,
in order to get rid of the pains of the mind."
One branch of the Somerville family (com
panions of the Norman Conqueror, in forraer
tiraes) had settled in Scotland, had prospered
there, and been ennobled. But the hereditary
taint of improvidence had shown itself, even in
this " more favoured portion of the family," and
since the time of Gilbert, the eighth Lord of
Cowthaly, which James the Sixth called Cow-
daily, frora seeing a cow and ten sheep killed
daily, the title had not been assuraed until James,
the thirteenth Lord, and the nobleman named in

LADY SUNDON. 213
the preceding letters, was enabled again to claim
and to bear the honour. To this nobleman his
poor kinsman, the Poet, was deeply indebted,
during the latter part of his sad career ; and he
was induced, being unmarried, to settle the rever
sion of his estates on Lord Somerville, in con
sideration of certain sums allotted for his relief;
nor could he, as it appears, have bequeathed his
property raore justly nor desirably.
The poem of " The Chase" is probably but little
known to most modern readers, yet it attained a
great share of popularity ; and, with all the taste
for revival and illustration in the present day, it
seems surprising that so favourite a subject should
never have been presented to the public, embel
lished by the limner's art. It is in blank verse,
and is evidently the production of a great master
of his theme ; nor is it devoid of information con
cerning the mode of hunting in other countties.
Somerrille, in some lines addressed to Addison,.
very happily brought in the word " Clio," used by
Addison as a distinctive raark to his papers in
the Spectator. " When panting Virtue her last efforts made,
You brought your Clio to the virgin's aid."
His "Chase," was, it appears, very graciously
accepted by the Queen.

214 memoirs of
The writer of the two following letters was
Thomas, the fourth Duke of Leeds, who had
lately succeeded to the titie, his father having died
on the Oth of March, 1731. He was at this time
a very young man, and he appears to have been
sent on his travels to finish the education, for so
much of which, as he informs us, he was indebted
to Dr. Fiiend. A sirailar obligation the Doctor
is said to have conferred on Lord Carteret, (Earl
GranviUe,) Lord Hervey, and the Duke of New-
castie. This was Dr. Robert Fiiend, head master
of Westminster School, (brother of Dr. John
Friend, physician to the Queen.) He is described
as " a scholar whom Bentley would consult." He
pubUshed a translation of Cicero's " Orator;" but
was mostly celebrated for his Latin poetry, of
which his Verses on the Death of Queen Caroline,
and his Epitaph on Lord Carteret's son Philip,
were most admired. He died August 9, 1751,
aged eighty- four. The Duke of Leeds, it appears,
had been honoured with a commission from her
Majesty. the duke of LEEDS TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Anglers, June 28, 1733, KS.
Madam,
I take this opportunity to acquaint you that
I delivered the letter with which her Majesty was

LADY SUNDON. 215
pleased to honour me to the Duchess of Orleans
last week, which I should have done sooner, but
waited for an opportunity to wait upon her High
ness till then ; for when we first got to Paris she.
was retired, and saw nobody, but as soon as she
came to Baquolet, (a little place which she has,
about a league from Paris,) her Highness sent
word I might then wait upon her, which I did,
and was very handsomely received; had the
honour to salute her, and was afterwards intro
duced to Mademoiselle de Beaujolois, and re
ceived the same honour from her, who is one of
the most agreeable women about Paris.
As soon as the Duchess had read the Queen's
letter, and compliments had passed, her Highness
showed us the house all over herself, as she would
have done the garden also, but it being suspicious
of rain, we begged she would not trouble herself
for fear of cold ; so she sent her first gentleman
vrith us, and he showed us the gardens, which are
exti-emely pretty, and I think she mentioned
something of sending a plan of them to the
Queen ; they are indeed very beautiful, but in
my opinion they do not come up to her Majesty's,
at Richraond.
I hope you will be so good, Madam, as to
acquaint the Queen with this, and make ray raost
hurable duty acceptable to her Majesty, if proper,
vrith many thanks for the great honour her
Majesty did me in favouring me with her letter,
which I shall always acknowledge. We have

216 MEMOIRS OF
had a most agreeable journey through the finest
countiy I ever saw, which I would give you some
account of, but am afi-aid of being troublesome ;
therefore beg leave to conclude, with returning
many thanks to you for all favours, and assuring
you nobody can be more read)' to obey, or would
take more pleasure in receiving, your coraraands,
than Your most obedient, and
much obliged, humble servant,
Leeds.
the duke of leeds to mrs. clayton.
Anglers, Sept. 19, N.S., 1733.
Madam, I am very much ashamed that I have no
sooner acknowledged the favour of your obliging
letter, for which I must return you a great many
thanks, as also for your goodness in presenting
my duty to her Majesty^, and hope you will be so
good as to do the same whenever her Majesty
does me the honour to mention me.
I was very glad to hear, by your letter, that my
old raaster. Doctor Friend, is so much recovered ;
for I assure you, Madam, I was very much con
cerned to see him look so bad as when I left
England. The day that I had the honour to meet
you at my Lord Oxford's, (where he was at the
same time,) was the first time that I had had the
pleasure of seeing him for near two years, so you
may easily imagine from thence, Madam, how

LADY SUNDON. 217
surprised I must be to see so great an alteration
in him. It is impossible but everybody who
knows him raust wish him well, and especially
those who have been under him, in return for the
great love and affection which he always had for
thera; and as he bestowed a large share of it
upon rae, so I think myself under the greater
obligations to him ; therefore I take the liberty
to beg my compliments to him, if you please. I
hope Mr. Clayton is well, and desfre my best
respects to him. I leave this place to-morrow,
when I set out for the south, in my way to Italy,
where, if you have any commands, I once more
take the liberty to assure you that nobody will be
more ready to obey them, in the best manner
they can, than Your most obedient,
and very humble servant,
Leeds.
Pere Courayer, of whom we have already
given sorae notices, is raentioned in the following
letters ; he raust have been a very singular per
sonage. Mrs. Montague thus describes a visit to
him, when he was ill :^-" Poor Dr. , Courayer
notified to me that he was ill of a sore throat,
and could not corae to visit me, though he wanted
to see me. To make this matter easy, I went to
him : I was obliged to pass through all the gay
vanities of Mrs. Chenevix, and then ascend a

218 memoirs of
most steep and most difficult staircase to get
at the little philosopher. This way to wisdom,
through the vanities and splendid toys of the
world, might be prettily allegorized by the pen of
the great Bunyan ; and the good man himself, to
an erableraatizing genius, woidd have afforded an
ample subject. His head was enfoncee in a cap
of the wai-mest beaver, made still more respect
able by a gold orris, 'a VNondrous hieroglyphic
robe he wore,' in which was portrayed all the
attributes of the god Fo, with the arras and
achievements of the Cham of Tartary. Never did
Christian doctor wear such a Pagan appearance ;
one would have imagined he had been sent
hither from Tonquin, to propagate idolatrous
worship. When I ceased to look upon him as a
missionary, I began to consider him as the best
piece of Chinese furniture I had ever seen, and
could hardly forbear offering him a place on my
chimney-piece. He asked much after your health,
and with so much regard, I am convinced he is still
a good Chiistian, though his habit is Heathenish."
DR. ALURED CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bristol, August 18, 1733.
Most Honoured Madam,
Father Courayer's speech falling in my way
last night, I was wiUing to lay hold of the oppor-

LADY SUNDON. 219
tunity of furnishing out a little entertainraent for
you, which I should be asharaed of doing, from
the diversions of these sort of places. Though I
intended only an abstract of the speech, I found
it necessary, after I had begun, to send most of it
in his own words, which you will easUy dis
tinguish from the manner of my expression. I
have not taken time enough to raind anything but
the sense, and shall be obliged to send it away
without reading it over very carefully ; but as it
is, I hope it will answer the end, which was to
give you a speciraen of the raanner of Com-ayer's
speaking on so critical an occasion, and in the
midst of so numerous an assembly of Protestant
divines. Whether any of our friends will think
themselves obliged to take notice of any reffec-
tions or inconsistencies in the speech, is un
certain ; but I should rather think we shall hear
no raore of it. However, as you know the author,
I thought you would be glad to see him, even
in the undress I am obliged to send him to you.
I suppose you have seen Dr. Seeker's serraon,
at the Public Act, on the subject of Educa
tion, wl^ch, though it be in EngUsh, I think
wants to be translated, as much as Father Cou
rayer's speech ; but I think there are things in it
worth taking some pains to get at.
I have inclosed Mr. Lewis's letter, which I
received this raorning, by which you will see the
joy he is in by the Duke of Bolton's removal, and
the good effects he thinks it will have in the

220 memoirs of
county.* But I doubt he is much too sanguine ;
for he sent me, at the same time, a list of mem
bers in the county, by which our friends ^yill ha,\e a
majority of si.r hundred and fifty, and if we have the
odd fifty, I think the victory will be a surprising
one, considering all the disadvantages we lie under.
Dr. Winter, of Bath, has been in the utmost
danger with a fever, in which he endeavoured to
destroy himself, and his friends are apprehensive
he will never be quite well again.
I hear from Chelsea, that my friend Stephen
Duck is married, and a little wonder (if it be so)
that he has not writ me word of it.
I hope now to leave this place in ten days,
and, by the help of good air, good water, and
exercise, to have laid in a sufficient stock of
health for another year, till when I must wait
with patience for further relief, as to my shortness
of breath. Nothing would give more pleasure
than to hear that you are able to say as much for
your own health, which will always contribute, in
the highest degree, to the satisfactions of my life ;
for I am, by the strongest ties,
Ever honoured Madam, >
Your raost obliged,
most devoted hurable servant,
Alured Clarke.
* Swift's character of the Duke of Bolton seeras here con
firmed : — " Duke of Bolton does not make any figure at Court
— nor anywhere else — a great booby.'" — Characters of Queen
Anne.

LADY SUNDON. 221
It is amusing to observe in what condescend
ing terms Baron Wainwiight speaks in the next
letter of the man so infinitely superior to himself
— Bishop Berkeley.
BARON AVAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, March 21, 1733-4.
Madam,
Since you called rae out into the world, and
brought rae into business, I never had so much
upon my hands as since Christmas last — the
labour having been alraost without recess or
interraission, except an excursion for the day
now and then with the Bishop of Killala. My
letters, by this raeans, have been less frequent to
England than they ought to have been. Attend
ance at the Castle, upon the ParUament, and in
the Exchequer, and after, at our Old Bailey here,
has employed my whole time. On Monday next
begins my circuit.
I have been exti-emely obliged to the Duke and
Duchess, and their whole family. The Secretary
has been frankly and cordially ray friend. When
they leave Ireland, it will be another parting from
my English friends, and only less grievous than
the day I left London. I have all reason to
believe his Grace's esteem will be strongly ex
pressed to all who have done rae good and wish
rae well.
Your Ladyship may justly conclude I often
want a helping hand to steer ray little boat (upon

222 MEMOIRS OF
which some attempts have been made) with dis
cretion ; but be assured I keep a straight course,
with my eye ti-uly and constantly fixed upon a
star of the fu-st magnitude, however the influence
of other planets may guide or second my way.
Where gratittide requires my service, I endeavour
to exert it with effect, looking back upon the
obligations I have received, not forward to new
and other interests. They who gave birth to my
fortunes will always have ray natural duty and
affection. My next to your Ladyship will be more full
and circumstantial. It was happy for the Bishop
of Cloyne to be made known to those who could
abundantly supply his defects. I hope his be
haviour in his station will justify the favour
confen-ed on hira, and he, as well as those who
value him, weU know -vVhat is due from him, and
where and how much opposition the Duke got
over. I will say no raore now, but that if any
one ever thought himself happy beyond others in
a friend, I would not yield to him in that pride
and pleasure, who am. Madam,
Yom- most devoted servant,
J. Wainwright.
Few noblemen have ever encountered raore
praise and raore ridicule, gained raore favour and
more contempt, than John, Lord Hervey of Ick-
worth. His character offers a warning to the

LADY SUNDON. 223
public, not too readily to adopt as ti-ue, the pun
gent satires of contemporaries, nor the attacks of
envy. Lord Hervey was born in 1696, and even
at the age of eighteen, before he had taken his
Bachelor's degree in Cambridge, was appointed
one of the Gentlemen of the Bedchamber to
George, Prince of Wales, afterwards George the
Second — a proof of that Royal favour, which con
tinued to be extended to his Lordship until his
death. In 1720, Lord Hervey was united to the ac
corapUshed Mary Lepell, daughter of Brigadier
General Lepell — a lady who is always mentioned
with comraendation by Pope and Lord Orford,
and to whom several of the letters of both these
celebrated men were addressed.
Lord Hervey possessed all the fascinations
and displayed all the errors of an accomplished
courtier. In person, he is said to have been
forbidding, and his manners disagTceable ; but
this is almost incredible, when we reraember he
carried off from a host of competitors the beauty
of the Court, and excited another attachment, of
the most durable character, in one of the daughters
of his Sovereign. Such was his rivacity — such
were his attainments, and his varied subjects of
conversation, that it was soon found that the Court

224 MEMOIRS OF
was intolerably dull without him ; and Queen
CaroUne could rarely be induced to spare him
fi-om her select circle. Her Majesty's regard
was repaid by Lord Hervey's exciting a deep
and hopeless interest in the affections of the
Princess Caroline — an interest which ceased only
with her existence.
The Duke of Grafton was, raeantime, the
favoured lover of the Princess Araelia. The
sneering terms in which Lord Hervey writes
of that nobleman are explained by their frequent
quanels and avowed dislikes. But Lord Hervey
was not content to reap his harvest of fame only"
as a courtier. He became a poet, and wrote
satirical verses, which irritated even his contuma
cious enemy. Pope. When told of his Lordship's
attempts, George the Second remarked to him,
" My Lord Hervey, you ought not to write verses;
it is beneath your rank : leave such work to little
Mr. Pope." Lord Hervey was the author of
many political pamphlets, which are declared by
Horace Walpole to have been equal to any which
were ever wiitten. Many of his productions, with
the exception of his " Memoirs from his first
coming to Court till the Death of the Queen,"
were published by Dodsley, after his death : and
this Diary of the Court, which has remained so long

LADY SUNDON. 225
in manuscript, is about to be given td the public,
under the able auspices of the Right Honourable
John WUson Croker. To his classical eru
dition. Dr. Middleton has left a tribute, in his
Dedication to the "Life of Tully;" to which
work Lord Hervey contributed the translations of
some of the passages fi-om Cicero. The raalig-
nity" of Pope, his jealousy and misdirected wit,
have produced the character of Sporus — a dis
gusting caricature, penned at the dictation of a
fiend-like spirit. Every principle of truth was
violated in the lines of Sporus, which cannot, in
the opinion of Archdeacon Coxe, be read without
disg-ust and horror — disgust, at the indelicacy of
the Ulusions; and horror, at the malignity of
the poet, in laying the foundation of his abuse on
the lowest species of satire, personal invective,
and, what is still worse, on sickness and debility.
The nobleman thus cruelly attacked, suffered
during the later years of his short life, which was
closed at the age of forty-seven, frora a dread of
epilepsy, which he endeavoured to repel by an ab-
steraious diet; hence the conteraptuous designation
of Pope — " The mere white curd of asses' milk."
But the precaution could not ensure length of
days. In 1743, this favoured and accomplished
courtier expired, leaving four sons and four
VOL. II. Q

226 MEMOIRS OF
daughters, -whom the Princess CaroUne adopted
as her own peculiar charge. Lord Orford attii-
butes his death partiy to rage and disappoint
ment, on being, on a change of rainistry, dis
missed fi-om all his employments, tor which, he
adds, he ungratefully satirized the King in a
ballad. Lord Hervey's eldest daughter, Lepell Hervey,
is described by Horace Walpole to be " a fine
black girl, but as masculine as her father should
be." Three of his sons were successively Earls
of Bristol. His son, Augustus John, the third
Earl, had the misfortune, at the early age of
twenty-two, when a Midsliipman, to encounter at
a friend's house the infamous Miss Chudleigh,
afterwards Duchess of Kingston. They were
privately manied, his wife continuing to be Maid
of Honour to the Queen. In 1768, Lady Hervey,
who had long lived with the Duke of Kingston as
his misttess, obtained her suit in the Commons,
declaring her marriage with Lord Hervey void.
She then married the Duke ; but several years
afterwards she was indicted for bigamy, and
tried in the House of Peers, and found guilty.
She was discharged from corporal punishment, as
being a Peeress.
Augustus John Lord Hervey, whose private

LADY SUNDON. 227
happiness was thus sacrificed to the intrigues of
an abandoned woman, was a fine specimen ofthe
British sailor. He had entered the serrice at ten
years of age, and he could therefore be but little
prepared to resist the atttactions of the artful
Miss Chudleigh. He was the pupil of the unhappy
Admfral Byng. To great professional skill, he
united courage, honour, and humanity. In spite of
a defective education, he becarae an eloquent
speaker; he was also an agreeable corapanion, and
an accomplished gentleraan. " His manners," it
is said, " were as noble as his bfr-th." He was suc
ceeded by his brother, Frederick, who became
Bishop of Derry, where he was a benefactor to his
diocese ; and not the least araiable of his actions
was his presenting the Roraan-Catholic titular
Bishop with a donation, in order that he might
buUd a chapel, and not be obliged to preach in
the open air, on condition that he should pray for
the King and Queen, which he did.
The Bishop of Den-y was one of the gTcatest
travellers of his time, but there was not a place
where he did not relieve the distressed, and his
charity was unaccompanied by ostentation. With
all his vfrtues he retained that peculiarity of
character which caused the beautiful and witty
Lady Townshend to say, " that there were three
Q 2

228 MEMOIRS OF
descriptions of jiersons, men, women, and Her-
vcys." Perhaps this expression may have been as ill
founded as Pope's incomparable, but too bittei
description of Sporus : —
" Eve's tempter thus the Rabbins have express'd :
A cherub's face, a reptile all the rest ;
Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust,
Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust."*
LTpon the Duke of Grafton, who is mentioned
in Lord Hervey's letters, Swift has penned the
following observations : — " Duke of Grafton, grand
son to Chaiies the Second, a very pretty gentle
man, has been much abroad in the world, jealous
for the constitution of his country; a tall, black
man, about twenty-five years of age. Almost a
slohherer, and loithout one good quality." t
LORD HERVEY TO MRS. CLAYTON.
St. James's, July 14, 1733.
Madam,
I fear you will think me both unreasonable
and absurd, in making use of the privilege you
gave me to trouble your servants as a plea for
troubling you, but it is quite impracticable for mc
to have taken possession of your house at Kew,
upon the obliging offer y^ou made rae of a roora
* Prologue to the " Satires."
t Swift's " Characters of Queen Anne."

LADY SUNDON. 229
there, without acquainting you that I had done
so, and thanking you for the authority to do it.
The Court removes on Monday, after dinner,
to Hampton Court, so that I shall no longer be
obliged to lead the disagreeable stage-coachman's
life which I have done during their stay at Rich
mond, and I assure you I have so little of the
itinerant fashionable taste of raany of ray ac
quaintance, that I look on this negative pleasure of
fixing with no sraall comfort. It has often been
matter of the utmost astonishment to me, what
satisfaction it can be to those people whom I see
perpetually going from place to place, (as others
walk backwards and forwards in a room,) from no
other motive but merely going ; for the first seem
no raore to prefer one corner of the world to
another than the last do this or that end of the
room ; and the only way I can account for it is,
that feeling an absolute cessation of thought, thev
keep their Urabs in motion, as their last resource,
to prevent their next heir seeing them decently
interred. I have often thought the actions of these
breathing machines are to the body just what
dreaming is to the mind; as the one shows the
limbs can act whilst thought is asleep, and the
other, that our thoughts are not ahvays at rest
when our limbs are so. I fear you -will think my
pen moves to as little purpose as the first of
these, and as incoherently as the last: I am
sure it is with as little design as either ; for

230 memoirs OF
when I began my letter, all I intended was to
tell you I had lain a night at Kew, and was
obliged to you for the permission to do so.
However, notwithstanding the impertinent flip
pancy of writing three pages to say three words,
if I knew any facts to entertain you with, I would
launch out afresh; but there is nobody in town
to furnish, invent, or relate any; and at Court I
need not tell you. Madam, that between the
people who cannot say anything worth repeating,
and the people who will not, one seldom hears
anything one cares to hear, more seldom what
one cares to retain, and raost seldora of all, what
one should care to have said.
If I can do you any service in this part of the
world, you cannot oblige me more than by
honouring me with your coraraands.
I am, Madam,
Your most obliged, most
obedient servant,
Hervey.
I beg my compliments to Miss Dyves and Mr.
Clayton. LORD hervey to MRS. CLAYTON.
Hampton Court, July 31, 1733.
Madam,
I am going this afternoon, with the Duke of
Richraond, to Goodwood, for three or four days,
but cannot leave this place vrithout retuming you
my thanks for the favour of your letter ; a debt,

LADY SUNDON. 231
perhaps, you would be more ready to forgive than
receive, but as it is of that sort, that one pays more
for one's own sake than one's creditors, I plead
no merit from the discharge of it, but the pleasure
of taking any occasion to assure you how much
I am your humble servant.
I will not trouble you with any account of our
occupations at Hampton Court. No mill-horse
ever went in a raore constant track, or a more
unchanging circle ; so that, by the assistance of
an almanack for the day of the week, and a watch
for the hour of the day^, you may inform yourself
fully, without any other intelligence but your me
mory, of every transaction within the verge of the
Court. Walking, chaises, levees, and audiences
fill the moming ; at night the King plays at com
merce and backgammon, and the Queen at qua
drille, where poor Lady Charlotte runs her usual
nightly gauntlet — the Queen pulling her hood,
Mr. Schutz sputtering in her face, and the Prin
cess Royal rapping her knuckles, all at a time.
It was in vain she fled fi-om persecution for her
religion: she suffers for her pride what she escaped
for her faith ; undergoes in a drawing-room what
she di-eaded fi-om the inquisition, and vrill die a
martyr to a Court, though not to a church.
The Duke of Grafton takes his nightly opiate
of lottery, and sleeps as usual between the Prin
cesses Amelia and Carolina; Lord Granthapi
strolls from one roora to another, (as Dryden
says,) like some discontented ghost that oft appears.

232 MEMOIRS OF
and is forbid to speak, and stirs himself about, as
people stfr a fire, not with any design, but in
hopes to make it bum brisker, which his lordship
constantiy does, to no purpose, and yet tries as
constantly as if it had ever once succeeded. At
last the ICing comes up, the pool finishes, and
everybody has their dismission: their Majesties
retire to Lady Charlotte and my Lord Lifford ;
the Princesses, to Bilderbec and Lony; ray Lord
Granthara, to Lady Frances and Mr. Clark ; some
to supper, and sorae to bed ; and thus (to speak
in the Scripture phrase) the evening and the
raorning make the day.
Adieu, dear Madara, and believe me, without
the formality of a conclusion. Most sincerely yours,
Hervey.
lord hervey to mrs. clayton.
Hampton Court, Sept. 11, 1733.
Dear Madam,
If I had known anything to send you, in
company with my thanks, that could have enter
tained you, I should have been full as rauch
ashamed of having thus long postponed them, as
I ought to have been, had I in that situation sent
them sooner. The reason of my writing now is,
that I may be the first in comraunicating a piece
of news that came hither last night, and surprised
us aU extteraely ; which is, that Stanislaus is
chosen King of Poland unanimously. I shall

LADY SUNDON. 233-
reserve ray speculations on this point till we meet ;
but I think, considering all things, it is the luckiest
piece of news for England, and for sorae people
who shaU be naraeless, that I have heard a great
whUe. It is so considerable, that it has, ever
since it airived, suspended even our discoiu-se on
my Lady Chesterfield's match, which I suppose
wUl be revived again on Thursday, that being the
day they are both to come to Court for the first
time. I think this raatch the wisest thing the
man could do, and the silliest, the woraan. I
want to know if you are of my raind — for few
people agree with rae here, when I say I think he
was in the right to man-y her, and will be so much
in the right, now he has married her, as to raake
her a very uncoraraon good husband.
Adieu, dear Madara, I am in a great hurry,
being but just corae fi-om walkuig with the Queen,
and obliged (as the Duke of Grafton is in North
amptonshire) to dress iramediately to attend the
King in Council.

CHAPTER X.

Savage, the poet — A natural son of the Countess of Maccles
field — His early life — His story told by Dr. Johnson — He
kills a man in a tavern brawl — ^Lord Tyrconnel begs the
intercession of the Queen in his favour — Letter from Lord
Tyrconnel to Mrs Clayton, soliciting for him the ofiice of
Poet-Laureate — His poem, " The Bastard " — His excesses
— His death — Mrs. E. Carter's opinion of him — Smollett's
character of Sir William Yonge — Rigging out a Maid of
Honour — A new road to greatness — The Lord Chancellor's
preferments.

CHAPTER X.
The history of Richard Savage has been
written with deep feeling by Johnson. Those
who have read that narrative can never forget it ;.
but it is necessary to recall some of the circum
stances of the case fully to comprehend the
appeal of Lord Tyrconnel, through Mrs. Clayton
to the Queen, which will be found printed at
length in a subsequent page.
Richard Savage was the most unhappy son of
the Earl and Countess of Macclesfield, and was
born in 1697-8. His destiny seemed, before he
had begun to breathe, to be decided by the ini
quity of his sharaeless mother. Previous to his
birth, she had publicly declared her infidelity to
her husband ; their marriage was annulled, and
their offspring declared illegitimate. Richard
Savage, Earl of Rivers, to whom Savage owed his
birth, gave to the infant thus ushered into a
world of shame, his own name, but quickly aban
doned hira to the mercies of a woman whose

238 MEMOIRS OF
inhumanity would not appear possible, were not
proofs adduced to support the trutii of all that has
been alleged, relative to the infancy of Savage.
Until the age of seven, this iU-starred being,
endowed as he was by natui-e with the most sus
ceptible feelings, was happily situated, and treated,
though not by his mother, with maternal tender
ness. " The person who took care of rae," — thus, in
1739, Savage wrote to Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, —
" and as tenderly as the apple of her eye, (this
expression is in a letter of hers, a copy of which
I found raany years after her decease among her
papers,) was one Mrs. Loyd, a lady that kept her
carriage, and lived according. But, alas ! I lost
her when I was but seven years of age. That I
did pass under another narae until I was seven
teen years of age, is truth, but not the name of
any person with whom I lived."
In 1712, Savage was thrown wholly upon the
charge of his raother, by the death of his father.
Lord Rivers ; and no inheritance was left to pro
tect hira from want, except a daring and energetic
spirit, the characteristic of his father, who had
distinguished himself both in the senate and in
the field, during the reign of William the Third.
The Countess of Macclesfield was a worthy con-

LADY SUNDON. 239
temporary of the infamous Duchess of Kingston,
and others of that shameless stamp, whose rices
spread far and wide their baneful influence. She
now resolved either to abandon her child, or to de
grade him into a sphere so low that his birth could
never disgrace her among the high-born ; the boy
might have perished, but that his grandmother.
Lady Mason, touched by some human feelings,
placed him at a small gramraar-school near St.
Albans, whence he was reraoved by his mother,
and bound apprentice to a shoemaker. He was
then ignorant of his parentage ; the ti-uth was
accidentally disclosed to him, and the fate of
Savage — to wander, to repine, to sttuggle uselessly
against fortune, to rush into sin from despair, to
suffer, to be lost — ^was determined.
His efforts to obtain an interview with his
mother, to touch her heart, or to excite one senti
ment of maternal interest, have been thrillingly
told by Dr. Johnson. For the sake of his un
happy friend, the great Moralist laid aside his
stern judgment, and allowed the sympathies of
man to prevail over the decision of the stoic. The
youth was gifted with no coraraon powers ; he
soon raade himself known to the public in an age
when genius won laurels with far more ease than
in the present day. Steele, and WUks the actor.

240 MEMOIRS OF
became his patrons ; and it appears, from a pas
sage in one of Savage's letters to Mrs. Elizabeth
Carter, that Steele had very neaiiy encountered the
misfortime of having the young poet for his son-
in-law. A play^ was i^roduced by Savage, called
" Sir Thomas Overbury," in which he acted the
part of Overbury, and a sum was obtained suffi
cient to support, for some time, the desolate youth,
scarcely^ then twenty years of age, in that wild
and reckless course of low dissipation to which
his taste evidently tended.
In 1727, the occurrence to which the following
letter from Lord Tyrconnel refers, took place. In
one of the tavern broUs, in those days of intem
perance and of riot, a man was killed by the ill-
fated Savage ; he was tried for murder, and con
demned to death. Happily for hira, Queen Caro
line lived ; the well-known Countess of Hertford
interceded with her, to obtain the royal pardon
for the outcast. Hitherto no mention has been
made of any participation in this work of mercy ;
but it appears frora the following letter fi-om Lord
Tyrconnel, that Mrs. Clayton was a powerful
instrument in saving this poor man. Sorae years
after his life had been spared. Lord Tyrconnel,
the patron of Savage, thus addresses Mrs.
Clayton : —

LADY SUNDON. 241
LORD TYRCONNEL TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Arlington-street, Nov. 8, 1730.
Madam,
I flatter rayself that you will be so good to
pardon the freedom of this address, it being in
behalf of one who has two pretensions to 'the
Royal goodness that seldom fail of success ; first,
that he stands in need of it, and that, in the
opinion of the best judges, he is qualified for it in
the particular for which I beg leave humbly to
recommend him ; it is to the place of Poet-Laureate.
The best judges of poetry that I mean, are the
Queen and Mr. Pope ; I have heard that her
Majesty has approved of his poetry. That he
lives, is entirely owing to the unparalleled good
ness of both their Majesties, which godlike per
fection they possess in the highest degree, a virtue
inseparable from the greatest minds. After this,
you will easily perceive I raean Mr. Richard
Savage, who is the bearer of this. I know from
my fiiend, Sir William Strickland, that he was
much obliged to you upon the unhappy occasion,
and if any more favour was shown him upon ray
appearing for him, I acknowiedge it with all the
gratitude due to so great an obligation. After
this, I need say nothing for his loyalty and good
affection to the Government. I should think him
the last of mankind that would not sacrifice his
life for their Majesties' service, to wiiom he
owes it.
VOL. II. R

242 MEMOIRS OF
The favour of great princes is generally invi
dious, but I know nobody that does not rejoice in
the share you have of her Majesty's, who is too
discerning a Princess to bestow undeservedly.
Producing obscure raerit, as in the case of Stephen
Duck, has done you a great deal of honour, and
if you are so good to favour Mr. Savage in this
instance, he stands as rauch in need of it, and it
wUl lay a very great obligation on rae, who have
the honour to be with the greatest esteem and
respect, Madam, Your most obedient
humble servant,
Tyrconnel.
A reaction in the public mind had indeed taken
place with regard to Savage ; the English re
sented his mother's cruelty as a national disgrace,
and the dread of her son's exposing her in lam
poons extorted frora the wretched woraan a
pension of 200?. a year, though nature could not
avert her earnest exertions to get the sentence
of death put into execution. The endeavour
to obtain the place of Poet-Laureate was, how
ever, unsuccessful. Habits were indeed formed,
which no warnings could check. Savage was
fickle, as well as extravagant; and his finer
feelings, of which his poeras exhibit many traces,
evaporated in his writings, — a case by no means

LADY SUNDON. 243
uncommon. He sank again into wretchedness;
dismissed from the house of Lord Tyrconnel, he
frequented only the lowest haunts, and in these,
in words of fire, carae forth " The Bastard," —
that raost powerful, most finished, and most
pathetic poem, — exalted in its sentiments, and
refined in its sarcasm, although its miserable
writer was, when he coraposed it, fast sinking,
deeper and deeper, in degradation, and passing
his nights sometimes, as Dr. Johnson tells us, in
homely phrase, in the streets, " on a bulk."
From Queen Caroline — a model for all of her
exalted rank, in her patronage of genius — ^^Savage
received a pension of 50Z. Upon her death,
that bounty ceased ; he retired to Swansea, sup
ported for a time by his friends; in January,
1742-3, he went to Bristol, was there arrested for
debt, and died in prison.
A singular compound of greatness and of weak
ness, a man framed for better things, — the very
sport of fate — Savage seemed by nature to be
stamped with the irapress of raisfortune. His
face was long, its expression melancholy ; his
form was thin, yet his deportment, observes his
friend. Dr. Johnson, was gi-aVe and manly. There
was a solemn dignity of mien, whieh softened into
courtesy upon acquaintance. His movements cor-
r2

244 me.moirs of
responded with this habitual mournfulness ; they
were slow, and his voice was tremulous and plain
tive. " He was rarely excited to smile, and but
very seldom provoked to laughter."
It is a beautiful trait in the character of a frail
woraan, that she assisted this unfortunate being.
To the charity of an actress, one of the fairest
and weakest, and yet most gifted of her sex.
Savage owed, at one time, subsistence. " I did
subsist at one time upon such obligations as he
raentions," the Poet wrote to Mrs. Carter, " but
they came fi-om Mrs. Oldfield, and not from Mr.
Wilks." Late in his life, Saviige formed an ac
quaintance with Mrs. Elizabeth Carter. That
lady's efforts to reform him were meritorious, but
unsuccessful. The pity of society had injured,
not elevated, the character which she atterapted
to purify ; public sympathy is a fearful medicine
upon a weak subject, and Savage had to contend
with hereditary tendencies to evil, of all others
the raost to be dreaded.
" Be pleased," he writes, " to accept my thanks
for your pious intention of making me a saint.
I ara truly desirous of becoming so, because, as
saints, they say, are allowed the hai^piness of
conversing with angels, I may, by that means, be
so blest as in some measure to become worthy of

LADY SUNDON. 245
the conversation of Mrs. Carter." Mrs. Carter,
it seems, was not a very^ cordial admirer of poor
Savage. " She never," says her biogi-apher,
" spoke of him with any regard, nor indeed with
much pity. She thought very^ UI of his moral
character, and was not greatly delighted with his
poetry." If one raay venture to say so, Mrs.
Carter was a very hard, dull, and overrated
woman. What could be the taste which saw
innumerable beauties in the wordy, exaggerated
writings of Mrs. Rowe, one of her favourite
authors, and whieh could not feel the passion
and the truth of the poems of Savage ?
Sir William Yonge, the writer of the following
letter, was a warm pai-tisan of Sir Robert Wal
pole, and one of the Lords Comraissioners of the
Treasury. He is described by SraoUett " as
a raan who rendered hiraself serriceable and
necessary, by stooping to all corapliances, running
upon every scent, and haranguing upon every
subject, with an even, uninterrupted, tedious flow
of dull declamation, composed of assertions vrith
out veracity, conclusions from false premises,
words without meaning, and language without
propriety." The character is not an uncommon
one, either in public or private life. The follow-.
ing letter is vei-y characteristic.

246 memoirs of
from sir william yonge to mrs. clayton.
Escott, September \.j, 1733.
Madam,
I was from home visiting some of my friends
when I should have received the honour of your
letter, which I should otherwise have acknow
ledged sooner, and have assured you with how
much pleasure I hear of your welfare.
I beg leave to wish the young lady joy who is
to go with the Princess Royal. Lady Yonge will
take care to obey your commands about the lace,
and as we shall be in town before the end of this
month, I suppose there is no necessity to send it
sooner. You will jilease to let me have your
commands by the return of the post I received
a letter from Sir Robert Walpole, with the Queen's
coraraands to send for Miss Williaras, which I
have accordingly done, and doubt not she will be
in town before us. I hope her Majesty will ex
cuse her not coming sooner, she being at a great
distance, and besides there being sorae few things
necessary for rigging out a Maid of Honour. It
would be weU for her to have Lady Yonge in
town to adrise and assist her, before she makes
her appearance. When she is at Court, the only
adrice I can give her is to obey your commands,
and express her gratitude to her benefacttess,
whose goodness, on her account, I shall always
thankfully acknowledge.

LADY SUNDON. 247
I beg my humble service to my brother Clayton,
and that you would believe me, with great respect,
Madam, Your most obliged,
and most obedient servant,
William Yonge.
In the foUowing letter from Dr. Clarke, one of
the persons to whom he aUudes was at this period
attracting an unusual share of the public attention.
Tliis was Dr. Thomas Rundle, of Exeter College,
Oxford, Chaplain to Bishop Talbot, who zea
lously joined vrith his brother, the Lord Chan
ceUor, in advancing the young divine in his pro
fession in every possible way. In consequence
of such powerful interest, he rapidly obtained pre
ferment,. After taking his degree of M.A., in
1710, he becarae Archdeacon of Wilts, Treasurer
of Sarum, Prebendary of Durham in 1720, Rector
of Ledgefordinl72-2, LL.D. in 1723, and Master of
Sherburn Hospital in 1727. In 1734, the Bishopric
of Gloucester being vacant, by the death of Bishop
Sydrell, he was strongly recommended to the
King by the Lord Chancellor ; but a most deter
mined opposition was made to this appointment
by Bishop Gibson, on the ground that Dr. Rundle
had once in private company dropped some ex-

248 MK-MOIRS OF
jiressions that savoured of Deism. His fiiends,
the Talbots, as may be learned from Dr. Clarke,
supported him strenuously ; but he was as
vigorously opposed by a ^ ery strong party. Tho
matter was at last compromised. .V more ortho
dox divine (Dr. Benson) was i^laced in the See
of Gloucester, and Dr. Rundle was recompensed
with the rich Sec of Derry. Perhaps it was
thought that in Ireland a Deistical Bishop might
not be so very objectionable. However hetero
dox his divinity might be, the last act of his life
proved the genuineness of his gratitude, for on his
death, wliich took place on April 14th, 1743, it
was found that he had bequeathed the bulk of his
fortune, 25,000Z.,to one ofthe sons of his patron,
the Lord ChanceUor. Bishop Rundle received
an elegant compliment from Lord Lyttleton, in
his " Persian Letters." Several of the Bishop's
sermons were in great repute about the middle of
the last century. DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
December 1.5, 1734.
Honoured Madam,
I write you this by a private hand, because I
would say nothing by the post, that can be raade
an ill use of by searchers.
I had a letter from Mr. Talbot, in which he

LADY SUNDON. 249^
says, " That he is practising the wise rainisterial
art of being perfectly unintelligible ; that he shall
soon rise to great preferraent, and that a volubi
lity of talking nonsense raay make hira Secretary-
at-War, and Lord of the Treasury, or even
Secretary of State, when such a turn of abilities-
shall be wanted in that office, and that he must
be popular with such a practice of jargon, though
he should be joined with the present Ministry."
And a little after, he adds, " That his father
neither has, nor ever will, give up the Bishop of
Durham's, his own, and his friend's character
upon any consideration ; and though the news of
filling up the Bishopric with another person may
very quickly prove true, it will be much more oppo
site to hffe father's inclination, than if they should.
send for the Great Seal, which," says he, " is a
trouble, if I could prevail, I would prevent their
taking." These strong expressions, coming- to me in a
letter by the comraon post,* concerned rae a good
deal ; and I answered his letter in as guarded a
manner as I could, without I had taken no notice
at all of the raain part of his letter. I told him, that
I hoped ray Lord Chancellor would long continue
in his station for the service of his counti-y, in this
critical situation of Foreign Affafrs ; and that if
Dr. Rundle's success was impracticable at this
* This would imply that the authorities at the Post-ofiice
were deemed as unscrupulous in the reign of George the
Second as in later times.

250 MEMOIRS OF
time, our fiiends would be grieved to have any
share of the resentment fall on the Royal Family,
on whom aU our public security rested.
As I had this private opportunity of giving you
this account, I was willing to let you see what
are the thoughts of the Chancellor's faraily,
though great allowance must be made for Mr.
Talbot's natural warmth. However, as I am
utterly ignorant of the certain position of Dr.
Rundle's affafr, I thought it would not be im
proper to send you this, which you will please to
make your own private use of, and to burn when
you have read it. I take it for granted, you have
read The Reasons alleged against Dr. Rundle's Pro
motion, by a Templar, which, I am told, is done by
a sensible man. I heartily wish my Lord Chan
cellor raay keep his honour, with regard to his
friend, for his own sake, and his place, too, if it can
be kept with the former ; and, I believe, most
people wiU wish he may continue in his office for
the sake of the public ; and yet I am persuaded
the rainisterial arguraent against distressing the
King's affairs may be carried to so great a length,
as to expose us to certain ruin on the one side,
whilst we are guarding against it on the other.
But, considering the spfrit and the views of those
who are at the head of the minority, I think the
arguraent at present is a very good one, and there
fore I should be extremely concemed to have so
much weight thrown into thefr scale, by haring

LADY SUNDON. 251
the Chancellor added to thefr number ; and, not
withstanding all the reports we have about it in
the countty, I vrill not believe it till I see it.
I have had two or three messages frora him, by
way of bantering my design of staying there till
March ; and he says, if I persist in it, he is sure
he shall be obliged to grant a commission of
lunacy br bankruptcy against rae ; and I think I
should deserve the former, if I should leave Win
chester before, considering aU my circurastances,
which I talked over vrith you the last tirae I had
the pleasm-e of being with you.
The Bishop of Winchester says (which probably
you know) that Dr. Sherlock would have de
feated his scherae of raaldng young Mr. Clarke a
Prebendary ; and that for all his professions to
the Queen, he did not like the thoughts of Mr.
Clarke having- a preferraent which would qualify
him to be a Residentiary of the Chm-ch. You
know best whether there be any raistake in this ;
but, having nothing to fill up my paper with,
perhaps the hint may be of use, if this should
chance to be the first account of it.
My brother keeps his Christmas vrith me, and
sets out for Lincoln's Inn next Monday morning :
if the plate should be ready, perhaps it will come
more safely with him, and he wUl pay the bill,
if Mr. Hams directs the sUversmith to him.
It would be a satisfaction, if you would be so
good as to let Mr. Harris write rae a line by the

252 MEMOIRS OF LADY SUNDON.
post, tiiat this came safe to you, and that Mr.
Clayton and you are both as well as my constant
wishes and prayers would have you to be.
I ara,
Most dear and honoured Madara,
Your ever obliged
and devoted servant.
A. Clarke.

CHAPTER XI.

Honourable Thomas Townshend — His prospects of success
described by him to Mrs. Clayton — The University of
Dublin — Lady Hervey unable to match some white china for
Mrs. Clayton — Return ofthe Princess Royal to Kensington
— The Indians in London — Their reception by the King
and Queen, the Prince of Wales, and the Princesses
— The Bishop of Salisbury — The King's generosity to
Lord Hervey — An iraportant omission — Mr. Carey's extra
ordinary escape — E.xcessive bigotry — Dr. Clarke's Remarks
on Thomson's Poem on Liberty — A quotation from it —
J'Irs. Clayton's taste appealed to by Somerville — Bubb
Doddington in Ireland — Heads of our Kings.

CHAPTER XI.

The foUovring letter from the Hon. Thoraas
Townshend, one of the Tellers of the Exchequer,
shows how intiraately Mrs. Clayton was con
nected with all that was going on, whether in
politics or in the church. Thoraas Townshend
was the second son of Charles, second Viscount
Townshend, who married, as his second wife,
Dorothy Walpole, the sister of the Prime Minister-
He was the uncle of the celebrated Charles
Townshend. Of this faraily it was remarked, in
a celebrated catalogue of pietm-es, under the
title of a head, unfinished by Lord Townshend.
— " The heads of the Townshends, though very
clever, have been always considered to be, in
sorae respects, unfinished."* Thoraas Townshend
attained his point, and becarae member for Cam
bridge. HON. THOMAS TOWNSHEND TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Clare Hall, in Cambridge, Oct. 22, 1733.
Madam,
I have just now received the honom- of your
letter, together with one inclosed fi-om Dr. Friend,
which I take this first opportunity of returning to
• Suffolk Letters, vol. i. p. 346.

^56 MEMOIRS OF
you. I shall ever acknowledge my obligations
to you, for the concern which you have been
pleased to show for me on this occasion. Dr.
Bentley has already declared for the two present
members, so that Doctor Friend need not fear that
his endeavours to serve me in Trinity College
should meet with any opposition from the Master.
I think I have at present a very good prospect of
success, and am most sincerely thankful for what
you have been so good as to contribute towards
it. I beg you will present ray corapliraents to
Mr. Clayton and to Dr. Friend, and am, with the
greatest sincerity, Madara, Your raost obliged,
humble servant,
T. Townshend.
The following letter fi-ora Baron Wainwiight is
interesting, as referring to Bishop Berkeley. It
raay be reraarked how strongly the Baron insists
upon the loyalty of the Bishop of Cloyne : that
point, at least as the word " loyalty" related to
the Hanoverian family, having been doubted.
True indeed was it, that the Bishop was far more
fitted for a College than for a Coui-t.
baron WAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTO.X.
Dublin, May 2.3, 1734.
Madam,
You accept atterapts of gi-atitude with the
sarae generosity and goodness you show favour,

LADY SUNDON. 257
and the greatness of your own mind enlarges
both. The Bishop of Cloyne was a welcome
bearer of your most kind letter; the acquisition
of Lord Hardwicke is of the utmost importance.
Your thoughts and influences outgo my expecta
tions. The grace of her Majesty, which y-ou
shower upon me, is the vital warmth of all my
hopes; a return to the royal presence and yours,
is preferable to any station here.
The inclosed to Dr. Fiiend, is as rauch to your
ladyship, and designed for your perusal; it has
waited a long time for a safe conveyance. The
education and morals of the University of Dublin
are in a very bad -n'ay : the Prince is Chancellor;
the Bishop of Clogher, a worthy ancient prelate.
Vice Chancellor; he intends to resign. The
Provost and Fellows have their eyes on the
Bishop of Cloyne. Lie defers the acceptance of
the offer, and the decent application to his Royal
Highness till he may have an approbation for
which he has the greatest regard ; a letter in
general terms, by the post, will be understood.
The station is of dignity and credit, but raore
expense than profit. It may give raany oppor-
timities of showing the duty and loyalty which he
bears to their Majesties, which he earnestly de
sires, and may employ him in promoting the Pro
testant religion and rirtue ; for he is rauch more
fit for a College than a Court, by his own account,
which fully explains your hint.
Madam, my best wishes must attend my best
VOL. II. s

¦258 memoirs of
hopes, and I must always be, with the truest
gratitude and respect to Mr. Clayton and your
Ladyship, Your most obliged,
devoted servant,
T. Wainwright.
^lary- Lepell, the wife of Lord Hervey, a por
tion of whose correspondence with Mrs. Clayton
has been already given, possessing the highest
reputation for araiable qualities, could afford to
be sometimes a little personal in her allusions.
These are usuaUy found to be directed against
her mother-in-law, " Lady Bristol, who has been
described as a lady celebrated for her vivacity,
eccentricity^, and love of pleasure and of play;"*
and in another place, the sarae writer alludes to
her temper as capricious. "Pray," she writes to
Mrs. Howard, " when you are so kind as to write
to rae, get soraetiraes one body, sometimes an
other, to direct your letters, for curiosity being
one of the reigning passions in a certain person
{Lady Bristol), I love prodigiously both to excite
and to baffle it." f
It is but justice to add, that among her contem
poraries generally^ and even by many of the raost
eminent of them. Lady Hervey was regarded as
one of the most truly admirable women of her
time. A comraunication fi-ora her pen, tteating
alraost exclusively of a subject which then at-
* Suffolk Letters, vol. i. p. 50. t Ibid.

LADY SUNDON. 259
ttacted a vast share of the attention of ladies
of fashion — the matching of old china — ought not
to be vrithout interest: to her letter her husband
added a few lines in his own hand.
LADY HERVEY TO MRS. CLAYTON.
St. James's, June 2, 1734.
If you knew, dear Madam, with what plea
sure I receive and obey your coraraands, you
would not think they need ever be accorapanied
with apologies: whenever I can serve you I shall
please rayself; therefore I beg, for the future, you
will coraraand me, without the formality of an
excuse, and with the security of raaking rae
happy in the same degree that you make rae
useful. Your letter I dfrected, and sent to your
house ; but though I have ransacked Chenevix's,
Mrs. Mead's, the woman in New-street, another
in Conduit-street, and two shops in the city, I
have not been able to match the white china you
left with me, nor to procure four, or even two
pieces of the same sort that match with each other.
I have had a dozen pieces of that kind brought
me, but raost ill-coloured, rough in the inside,
and no two of a size, and all of them a crown a-
piece oue with another, but I expect a man to
morrow moming, who has promised me to go all
over the town to tty to get sorae for rae ; if there
are any in town which are not in private hands,
depend upon it you sha,ll have them.
The newspapers will inforra you vrith what
s 2

260 MEMOIRS OF
cruelty the war in Italy is pursued: there has
been rather a massacre than a battle, the conse-.
quence of which is, that there is not a family of
any quality at Paris and "Vienna that is not in
mourning. Ho\v happy are we who have nothing
to do in it ! and who, whilst they are gi-ie\ing for
those who are gone for ever, arc now rejoicing
for the return of the Princess Royal, who arrived
at Kensington at two o'clock this morning. I
wish her return would occasion yours, but I
hardly hope it. Sundon and quiet are very
powerful, when united; it is not very easy to
draw you from them: how pleased I should be
with anything that could do so, I leave you to
guess, who have too much penetration in every
thing to need being told how much 1 am dear
Mrs. Clayton's Faithful and obedient
humble servant,
M. Hervey.
LORD I-IERVEY TO MRS. CLAYTON.
I cams into the room just as this letter was
folding up, and the moraent I heard of your name,
insisted on writing my own, though I have no
other reason for it than to prevent my being for
gotten by you, and to make you a useless and
I hope unnecessary assurance of my being raost
truly Your humble servant,
Hervey.

LADY SUNDON. 261
A different tone pervades the following letter;
but though the characters of the wiiters so little
resembled each other, they were alike in their
regard for their powerful correspondent.
DR. .ALURED CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Kensington- square, July 6, 1734.
Honoured Madam,
The letter you honoured me with by your
servant is such a certain proof of your fiiendship
for me, that I have read it over several tiraes, and
will do my best to convince you that your advice
is never thrown away upon me. I think it was
never my turn to offend by intenneddling in the
low tattle of the world or personal characters, and
therefore hope I shall be able to guard against
any mischief that can be done me on this head,
though it will never be in ray power to fence
against falsehood and groundless invention, as I
have often experienced, and once to your know
ledge. I am very sensible that I am got into a
situation where there is so much trial of one's
probity, as well as prudence, that I soraetiraes
think that I did not do very wisely in ventming
upon such slippery ground ; however, I hope, by
your assistance,. to come off without much hazard,
or at least be able to retreat in time. Wher
ever there is a power of bestowing riches or
honours, the generality of mankind will sacrifice
their virtue, their fiiends, and everything else, for

262 memoirs of
a share of the loaves ; and I believe tlie Courts
of aU ages and countries have been governed in
much the same way. When Pompey's head was
brought to Caesar, the courtiers expressed much
satisfaction at the sight, though Caesar thought it
became hira to appear to be moved with concern ;
wherein Lucan, the poet, makes both parties to
play the hypocrite, and has given us a fine
picture of a Court, in these two lines, on this
occasion : —
" Their rising sorrows in their breasts thej' kept.
And thought it safe to laugh, though Caesar wept."
There is another thing in which I am more
afraid of my conduct than anything else, and am
ignorant which way to turn myself, without con
sulting you at large, when I come to Sundon ;
and that is in relation to the visits I ara to jjay to
the courtiers, for I have been invited by almost all
of them, of all ranks ; and though I know that onci
cannot disoblige a j)erson raore than by neglect
ing to take the leave they give you to wait upon
them, in which they mean to do you so much
honour, yet, on the other hand, it is irapossible
but I must run this hazard, or lose all my time
and my friends, and every enjoyment that it is
worth while for one of my constitution to stay in
the world for.
However, I should not have mentioned this in a
letter, but to show you that I had been turning
my thoughts upon my new scene of life. What-

LADY SUNDON. 263
ever happens, I hope I shall preserve your private
friendship ; for though I have my full share of ara
bition, I feel no passion that burns half so strong
within rae as the love of the few valuable friends
I have raet with in the world; and I flatter myself
there is sorae happiness to be had in this channel
which is not of so slippery a kind as that which
the chance of a die can give, or the frowns of a
Comi take away. However, as I have taken ray
post, I will be as ranch upon my guard as I can,
for my own interest ; and when I have done that,
will endeavour to be as unconcerned as I can
about consequences, for the sake of my ease and
quiet. I have half lived with Mr. Clayton this week,
and am going to dine with hira to-day again.
Mrs. Dyves is gone to Greenwich for two or three
days, but I saw her sister, who says she believes
she wiU be ready to go with me in a week's tirae ;
so that I hope we shall have the pleasure of wait
ing upon you on Monday se'nnight, unless we
hear fi-ora you that it may be convenient to defer
it another week. I waited upon Sir Robert, and
acquainted him with the Bishop of Winchester's
choice of me for one of his deputies, and that I
hoped he would honour me with his countenance
and protection at Court, which he said no one
should have more heartily.
I am asharaed to scrawl so much about myself,
but your goodness to rae raakes rae not think of

264 MEMOIRS OF
an apology ; but I shall only add that I aui, witii
a true and grateful heart.
Most honoured and dear Madam,
Your entirely devoted
and dutiful servant,
Alured Clarke.
The following account of the introduction at
Court, of the Indian King and his followers,
shows how great an interest Queen Caroline
took in every incident. They appear to have
corae from some portion of the great American
continent, in the vicinity of our colonies there.
dr. clarke TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Kensington-square, Aug. 3, 1734.
Honoured Madam,
The inclosed, from Lord Lymington's son,
gives so good an account of our friend Stephen,
that I thought it worth while to trouble you with
it. The Indians had their audience in form last
Thursday. Their King, his two War-Captains,
and three others, called Chiefs, were all dressed
in decent vests : the King in red, the two others
in blue, the other three in yellow, but their faces
were raost hideously painted, according to their
different fancies, in black and red, so thick that
at a little distance they looked like raasks ; their
Queen's habit was almost English, except that she
had no stays, and her neck was buttoned up, with

LADY SUNDON. 265
a kind of ruff. She and the boy, which made up
the whole company, were not painted at all. I
suppose she trusted to her natural beauty, though
she was dowdy enough, with only one eye, her
cheeks swelled out with smoking, and two or
three teeth standing forward, by way of sentry or
guard to her mouth. The boy was very well
dressed in the English fashion, from top to toe,
with waistcoat of silver tissue, silk stockings, &c.
He had a very sprightly, sensible countenance ;
but the rest, while they were placed upon a bench
in the guard-room, waiting for an audience, neither
spoke a word to one another, nor looked at any
person or thing, but sat almost motionless, with
their eyes as it were fixed in their heads, which
we were told was their way of showing respect,
and not any want of curiosity, which would have
made one suspect that they had not all that
natural understanding which Mr. Oglethorpe
assures us of.
The King received them in the room next the
guard-roora; they raade their obeisances, and
performed all the ceremony with great decency
and exactness. Their King spoke his speech
mighty gravely, and well, and with much empha
sis; in the middle of it he turned to his War-
Captain, who put two skins in his hands, which he
laid at his Majesty's feet with great respect.
After that, his three Chiefs brought him sticks
with feathers on them, which are emblems of

266 memoirs of
peace, which he laid very submissively upon tiie
skins, as a token of his entering into a firm
alliance with us, and then he concluded his
speech with a few sentences more.
From thence they were conducted to the
Queen, who received them in the long gallery,
attended by aU the ladies that were at Court. It
is said, one of them was asked which he thought
the finest woman there; and that he begged
pardon if he made an improper answer, in owning
that all white people were so much alike to him,
that he could not easily distinguish one fi-om an
other, and that it was some time before he could
distinguish their friend Mr. Ogletlior[3e from the
rest. Afterwards they had an audience of the Prince
of Wales and the Princesses in their respective
apartments. After they were gone fi-om the
Queen, she sent for the boy again, to talk to him,
which the old King vrith difficulty consented to,
notvrithstanding the interpreter tried to satisfy
him ; and the boy himself was in the greatest
terror tUl he spied out his friend Oglethorpe, near
the Queen. We were told that the boy has a
sister, whom they had a great mind to have
brought with them, but she was so great a beauty
at horae, that they were afraid she would have
been stolen away amongst us. The King is above
fourscore, and says he remembers the first settle
ment of the English at Carolina, which I believe
is nearly sixty years ago.

LADY SUNDON. 267
I sent to Cleveland Court last night, to inquire
of Mr. Clayton, but hear nothing of his coraing to
town, and do not wonder at his staying as long as
he can at Sundon. The Bishop of Winchester
carae to Chelsea* yesterday, after having raade
three days' journey from Tunbridge : they thought
he would have died in the coach ; and he continues
so bad this evening that I think he cannot last
many days. I hear from Cambridge, that Dr.
Bentley says he would not change what has hap
pened to him for a fit of the toothach, if it was in
his power: he is printing his case. I beg my
humble service to Mr. Clayton and the ladies,
and am, indeed and in truth.
Most honoured and dear Madam,
Yom- most obliged
and devoted humble servant,
Alured Clarke.
These earnest wishes for the promotion of Dr.
Sherlock, then Bishop of Salisbury, appear some
what inconsistent, both in Lord Hervey and in
Mrs. Clayton; for Sherlock was the opponent,
in controversial writings, of Bishop Hoadley ; and
was, moreover, a high Tory, and defended the
Test and Corporation Acts. In 1717, he had been
removed from Court, as the King's Chaplain, on
account of his zealous participation in the Ban-
* The old palace at Chelsea, belonging to the See of Win
chester, was taken down many years ago.

268 memoirs of
goiian Controversy. His " Use and Intent of
Prophecy," and his " Trial of the Witnesses at
the Resurrection of Jesus," are works whieh recall
his name with honour. His eloquence obtained
hira great influence in the House of Lords, and
his reputation as a divine and as a prelate pro
cured him, in 1747, the off'er ofthe .Vrehbishopric
¦of Canterbury, which, however, he declined. He
accepted, however, the Bishopric of London ; and
died at Fiilhara, in 1761, at the age of eighty-
three ; his remains repose in the churchyard of
that place. lord HERVEY TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Kensington, August 10, 1734.
I have a great deal of business, and, conse
quently, very little time upon my hands to-day,
yet cannot help writing to dear Mrs. Clayton, be
cause I believe it is in my power to give her some
pleasure, and these are opportunities I always
wish for, and, of course, when they offer, what
I never can neglect.
I know so well how you feel towards your
fiiends, that I am sure I cannot be mistaken,
w-hen I conclude how glad you will be to hear
that the Bishop of Salisbury is on the brink of
coraing into the most agreeable preferraent be
longing to his profession, and, by what the Queen
has said to-day, and ordered me to write to him,
I hope the manner in which this thing is to be

LADY SUNDON. 269
done for him will be as much to his satisfaction
as the thing itself.
I am always pleased and proud when we think
alike ; and I hear you and I, v^ ithout comparing
notes, upon the report of the Bishop of Winches
ter's hopeless state of health, took and advised
the same steps. The Queen had a letter this
morning from the Bishop of Salisbury, which she
has ordered me to answer. I hope he has written
to Sir Robert. Advise him, of all things, from
this day forward, to behave as if there neither was
nor ever had been such a thing as a Bishopric of
Durham in this country, and only to reflect that
he is made Bishop of Winchester, while Sir
Robert Walpole is first minister. He writes me
word he shall be in town to-night.
I raust now tell you a piece of news about my
self, which is, that the King yesterday made me a
present of a thousand pounds a-year. What he
said to me in his closet, when I w-ent in to thank
hira, I should be as much ashamed to repeat as I
was to hear ; for, praises one is conscious one
does not deserve, put one almost as much out of
countenance as reproaches.
I am extremely glad to hear we are to have
you in a fortnight at Kensington, and hope to see
you return with the sarae agreeable health to
yourself and the same agreeable spirits to your
friends, which as constantly attend you as my
wishes. Excuse a formal conclusion, for I am
called. Adieu.

270 MEMOIRS OF
The foUovring letti'r contains an allusion to a
peculiarity in the consecration of Bishop Hoadley,
of which this letter, we beUeve, contains the first
mention. The anecdote of Mr. Carey proves the
intolerant spiiit existing, at that time, in France.
DR. CLARKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Kensington-square, Sept. 17, 1734.
Most Honoured Madam,
I hope the good weather we have had here
all this week has been of service to Mr. Clayton
and you, and that you have your share of the
benefit of it at Sundon, where I am sure you
have every other enjoyment that can give hap
piness. The Dean of Salisbury and his son dined with
rae at Court, on Sunday, and I believe are to set
out for Norwich to-morrow. They told me, that
they have had their full talk out with the Bishop,
and are fully satisfied of his friendly intentions to
serve them, at a proper opportunity. But of this
I shall have more to say when I have the honour
of waiting upon you. Mr. Poyntz is retui-ned
from Hampshire, and tells rae that the Church of
Winchester, in the return they have raade of their
election of the Bishop, have left out those words
in the form, which assert that they elected the
Bishop by the aid and immediate direction of the
Holy Ghost, which form of words were always
inserted in their returns from all churches ; and
though I hope and believe that the return is per-

LADY SUNDON. 271
fectly good without them, as they cannot be an
essential part of the instrument, yet it is pretty
remarkable that the first time of their being
omitted by any church, should be in the case of
the Bishop Hoadley.
Mr. Carey, a brother of Lord Faulkland, is just
come from the Imperial army, and was at Court,
where I heard him speak of an extraordinary
escape he had of being drowned. I forgot how he
came into the danger, but upon his sinking the
first time, a priest on the river side asked who he
was, and was told he was an Englishman; on
which he forbad a man that was trying- to save
him to give hira any assistance. Mr. Carey rose
again, and sank a second time : the man then
insisted with the priest that he should let him try
to help hira ; but the priest absolutely refused,
and threatened hira with excommunication, on
which the fellow desisted ; but when he saw Mr.
Carey sink a third time, humanity prevailed, (not
with the priest,) and the man, in defiance of all
excommunication, put a long stick into the water,
which Mr. Carey, having quite losthis sense, could
make no use of, but by a very extt-aordinary
chance, the stick struck his foot, which gave a
motion to his whole body, and brought him up
once more, by which means the raan with some
difficulty laid hold of him and brought him out of
the water ; and after an application of hot bricks
wrapped up in cloths, to his head and feet, and
other parts of his body, they brought him to him-

272 MEMOIRS OF
self in some hours. On a complaint made of the
priest, he was examined, and I think deprived of
one of his benefices ; but the crime is of so aggra
vated a nature, that one cannot think of it without
honor ; and it is a melancholy reflection, that
no man has it in his power to be so great a villain,
without the aid and assistance of those monstrous
pretensions to a spiritual jiuisdiction over the
souls of men.
I believe it will not be long before Mr. Thom
son's Poem on " Liberty " is published. I have
seen the first book, and there are such worthy
sentiments in it, and his plans are so well cal
culated for the promoting of good public prin
ciples, that though his poetry does Ue oiDen to
sorae objections, 1 cannot but wish him a raulti
tude of readers. The scene of this book is laid
in Rorae, where he shows that the decay of arts
and sciences there is owing to oppression and
tyranny, and describes the difference of ancient
and modem Rome, with regard to riches and
fi-eedom, genius and learning, in the most lively
manner, and very rauch to the advantage of his
own country, where Liberty (an island goddess
now) raaintains her erapire. And as Italy, with
all its fi-uitfulness, its warm clime, and every
other natural advantage, is yet become a barren
and desolate, raiserable country, raerely by losing
its liberty, he draws from thence a very useful
lesson to Britons to take care to preserve that
blessing which has enabled us to raake ourselves

LADY SUNDON. 273
more than amends for every disadvantage of our soil
and ciimate; and since I have begun a new sheet,
which I thought I should not have troubled you
with, when I left so genteel a space at the top of my
letter, you will be so good as to excuse my tran
scribing a few lines from him, though it is a kind
of theft I should not allow myself in but very
sparingly, for fear the author should see some of
his own verses at second-hand, before he has had
the benefit of introducing thera into the world.
His " Prayeh to Liberty.''
" O first and most benevolent of Powers !
Come from eternal splendours, here on earth.
Against despotic pride, and rage, and lust,
To shield mankind, to raise thera to assert
The native rights and honour of'their race.
Teach me, thy lowest subject, but in zeal
Yielding to none, the progress of thy reign,
And, with a strain from thee, enrich the Muse.
* * * Her patron, thou.
And great inspirer be ; then will she joy,
Though narrow life her lot, and private shade ;
And when her venal voice she banters vile.
Or to thy open or thy secret foes.
May ne'er those sacred raptures touch her more.
Of slavish hearts unfelt; and may her song
Sink in oblivion with the nameless crew —
Vermin of state ! — to thy o'erflowing light
That owe their beam, yet betray thy cause."
Though there is a little obscurity in sorae of
these expressions, there is such an honest warrath
for his subject, and against men who let their
VOL. II. T

274 MEMOIRS OF
genius out for liire and to serve their worst pur
poses, that one cannot help taking part with the
poet that endeavours to preserve the chastity of
his muse.
I have only to add my best services to Mr.
Clayton and Miss Dyves; and my hopes that
you wiU be so good as to let me know by some
means or otiier, that you are as I and all your
fiiends would wish you to be :
Most dear and honoured Madam,
Your ever obliged, and
devoted humble servant,
Alured Clarke.
The Poem on " Liberty," thus highly eulogized
by Dr. Alured Clarke, cost Thomson two years
of labour to coraplete. He considered it his
noblest work, but posterity has not agreed with
hira: it was divided into five parts, published
separately. Lord Lyttleton abridged this work,
which the clamours of a long opposition to Sir
Robert Walpole's rule had called forth. Johnson
remarks of this poem — " The recunence of the
same images must tire in time ; an enumeration
of exaraples to prove a position which nobody
denied, must quickly grow disgusting."
The days are gone by when the approval of
even the highest ladies of fashion could disarm
the critics, as Somerville, in the following cha
racteristic epistle, expects that the favour of Mrs.
Clayton to his poem would do.

lady sundon. 275
william somerville, esq. to mrs. clayton.
Edston, September 30, 1734.
Madam,
I had the honour of your most obliging letter
by the last post, for which I return my most
humble thanks. I formerly troubled you with
the history of the simile at the end of the Hare
Chase, and as it is your opinion, (to which I
shall always most readily submit,) that it raay be
misapplied, I have submitted the story of Orpheus
in its place.
" So, when the furious Bacchanals assailed
Thraician Orpheus, poor ill-fated bard !
Loud was the cry — hills, woods, and Hebrus' banks,
Keturn'd their clam'ring rage. Distress'd he flies,
Shifting from place to place, but flies in vain,
For eager they pursue ; till, panting, faint,
By noisy multitudes o'erpowered, he sinks.
To the relentless crowd a bleeding prey."
Thus, Madam, I ara equally unmerciful to
poets as ministers, when they will suit ray pur
pose or embellish my poem.
I beg you will believe that I ara and ever
will be firra and inflexible in those honest prin
ciples upon which the Revolution was founded.
Could I be so monstrous as to be wanting in mj^
duty to my King, yet my own safety and the
good of mankind would oblige me to persevere
in those sentiments which support our religion
and liberties. I am, upon this occasion, more
obUged to you than I can express. Your single
approbation of my poem is a sufficient protection
T 2

276 MEMOIRS OF
against an army of critics, but your bringing Dr.
Friend and Mr. Poyntz to my succour renders
me altogether invincible. I will take the liberty
to write a letter of thanks to the learned Doctor,
for his very judicious remarks. It is entirely to
your goodness that he has been at the trouble of
observing the most minute particulars, and has
dressed my poem so well, from head to foot, if 1
may use the expression, that it will make a much
better figure than I expected.
Receive, Madam, once raore, my most humble
thanks, and believe me to be, with the greatest
respect, Your most obliged and most humble servant,
W. Somerville.
The celebrated George Bubb Doddington, whose
introduction to Baron Wainwiight gives occasion
to this letter, aspired to be at once statesman, wit,
and author. No book disappoints one raore than
his Diary ; and we can only suppose it to have
been written in one of those lethargies, described
by his fiiend Curaberland, frora which he awakened
to break out into sallies of wit and humour ; but
the wit and huraour, in this work, never carae.
He was afterwards created Lord Melcorabe.
BARON WAINWRIGHT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, November 19, 1733.
Madam,
The day I received your last was next in
happiness to one in your presence; that letter

LADY SUNDON. 277"
expressed your generous and friendly raind far
beyond the reach of the pencil, though when I
compare my picture with the Bishop of Killala's,
Worsdale triumphs much more than when the
King commanded him to mend the work of Jei-vas ;
yet still I want almost daily resort to you for
advice. Things have passed where I was ex
tremely at a loss for your judgment of expres
sions ; the tirae made it impossible to be had,
and may be you will never know what I mean till
I  see you, — I was going to say, but I hide
that thought from me, as they do things from
children, which are not fit for thera till they are
more advanced in years. If .you hear any idle
reports from this side of the water, be assured I
make no application, and entertain no thought
without your knowledge. I am sensible who
brought rae into the world ; my reliance is upon
the same high protection, and my whole desire to
continue the creature of the same power.
Soon after Mr. Doddington came here, it was
signified to me it would be acceptable to his
Royal Highness if I did him what serrice was in
my power. When I came to consider his case, it
seemed to me matter of justice and equity, as well
as favour. I flatter -rayself I have been of some
little use to him. He has succeeded in the
branch of his business which was matter of
favour; whether he will not fail in that which
is matter of justice, I will not answer for this
country. It is not possible to conceive thefr

278 memoirs of
absmdity, without hearing their debates; they
pabiotize for hours, and then corae to resolutions
which only tend to undo the good that has been
done for thera, and find fault with methods that
have been established, without any complaint,
these twenty years, at the only time that there
has been a saving upon them, though they never
complained before. As the comraon people here
always deal as if they never were to see the
person more, so their representatives act with
regard to a chief governor — begin with good
words, get all they can, and then give him a part
ing blow. I ara sorry to say that these poli
ticians have more than once been the majority
this session. At present there are several septs
or clans in the house, as there were forraerly of
vrild Irish in the land.
Since Sir Ralph Gore's death, there is no leader
for whora there is a general deference ; but there
arc a thousand little tuggings for power, ecclesi
astical and civil. Believe me, Madam, it is hard
to escape these miners, who work in so many by
and dark paths, and make the ground hollow all
about them. Though I have entered into none
of their competitions or cabals, — neither green
coats, black coats, or societies, — and though I
would pawn ray credit with you (a more valuable
stake I cannot raake) that I have not given cause
of offence by word or deed, yet such are the
tempers of the ttaversers here, that I think some —
I do not raean any that came over -with the Duke —

LADY SUNDON. 279
would be glad to diminish that value whieh I with
pleasure heard from you, his Grace had for me ;
which, could they effect it, would be irksome to a
heart conscious of no design but to do my duty,
and be grateful to my Lord Lieutenant. Per
haps gratitude as well as love soraetiraes creates
fears too tender. It is enough for rae to be
esteeraed by one who has lived in Courts only to
do good, incapable of making or receiving false
irapressions; whose friendship will be ever the
most pleasing reflection to,
Madara,
Your faithful and obliged servant,
J. Wainwright.
In the following letter we find an explanation
of a forraer allusion, and a curious custora of our
ancestors is specified.
BARON wainwright TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dublin, May 8, 1733.
Madam,
Our recess from business has been very short
since the Christmas holidays; one term ended
yesterday. The Coiu-t of Exchequer sits all this
week ; a new term coraes on a Uttle after, arid
then the circuit : till the beginning of August I
shall have none of that retireraent, vrith the hopes
of which I flattered myself in this kingdom ; but
then the habit of business gives it a reUsh, and
perhaps the exercise of the judgment yields as

280 memoirs of
great pleasure as the exercise ofthe imagination;
if the one is not so high and lively as the other, it
is raore solid and lastmg. A good state of health
adds wings to the hours, which would move very
heavily during absence from some fi-iends.
This day I sent the head of Lleiiry the Scventii,
put up carefully in a box directed to you, and
committed to the care of Mrs. DoncUan, the
Bishop of Killala's sister ; she goes for England
as soon as the wind serves. The true history of
it is this : — Formerly, instead of setting up the
effigies of the British Kings in wax-work among
the tombs of Westminster Abbey, they took the
face of the dead King in plaster of Paris, and con
trived to dress a figure of his size in robes, and
placed that exact resemblance of the risage for
the head. This was one of them; but in the
time of Oliver, these, araong other footsteps of
monarchy, were taken away, and this came into
the hands of a person who belonged to the Abbey,
a verger, or some other such raan : and this is the
true account of it, and the workmanship verifies
it. The value of it can never be equal to the
testimony I would have it bear of my respect, to
the gratitude I would wish it to remain a memo
rial of, nor to the price I set upon the share of the
friendship which you have allowed to.
Madam, Your ever faithful,
humble servant,
J. Wainwright.

LADY SUNDON. 281
That the Spfritual Lords were not less eager
than their lay brethren to serve Lady^ Sundon and
those who were so fortunate as to obtain her re
commendation, we have already given some evi
dence. The following comraunication is to the
same purport.
THE BISHOP OF LINCOLN TO MRS. CLAYTON. £<;;?
Buckden, Sept. 25, 1733.
Madam,
At the close of my very long visitation-circuit
I received at Lincoln the honour of your Lady^-
ship's letter, and iraraediately despatched from
thence ray answer, to be presented to your Lady
ship at Harapton Court, by my son; but he
coming out of waiting before your return to Court,
that letter came back this day to me, and I beg
leave to write again by this first post, to inform
your Ladyship of the miscaniage of my first
letter, and to repeat what I had said, of ray readi
ness to give what was asked for Mr. Wilkinson,
though not vrith so much pleasure as I should
have given it, had it been something better and
something fitter to have been presented to a much
honoured patroness, who has made me so gi-eat a
debtor to her goodness.
As soon as I get to Westminster, I shall beg an
opportunity of making a personal acknowledg
ment of my obligations, and of making my humble
suit for the continuance of your favourable pro-

282 MEMOIRS OF LADY SUNDON.
tection, which will always be esteemed as the
highest honom- by, Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obliged and
most devoted servant,
R. Lincoln.
P.S. — Since I wrote this letter, Mr. Wilkinson
is come hither, and I have directed the instru
ments to be made ready for his institution, this day.
The letter which foUows is fi-om the pen of the
Lord Chancellor: —
LORD CHANCELLOR TALBOT TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Lincoln's Inn Fields, Nov. 15, 1734.
Madam,
I am very sorry that my constant employ
ment in my office hath prevented my waiting upon
you, to acknowledge the favour of your letter,
which I obeyed immediately. The Queen had
the goodness to put into ray hands sorae papers
relating to the war in Italy, which I have read
with pleasure ; and as I do not know any hand
by which I can ttansmit them to the Queen so
safely, nor any one who can make my compli
ments to her Majesty for this instance of her
favour so properly as Mrs. Clayton, I vrill make
no apology for begging you to do it, and to be
Ueve me to be, with the greatest truth.
Madam,
Your most obedient, most humble servant,
Talbot.

CHAPTER XII.

Frederick, Prince of Wales — William, Duke of Cumberland
— The Princess Anne — Married to the Prince of Orange —
The Princesses Amelia and Louisa — Mrs. Clayton's hus
band created Viscount Sundon — Bishop Hoadley congra
tulates Lady Sundon on her title — Character of Lord
Sundon — Bon-mot of Bubb Doddington respecting hira —
Queen Caroline's respect for Sir Isaac Newton — Patronizes
his daughter, Mrs. Conduit — She solicits the place of
Dresser to the Princess Koyal for Sir Isaac's niece, Mrs.
Burr — The Court at Kensington — Court gossip — Bishop
Clayton on green usquebaugh — Entertains the Lord
Lieutenant — State of the South of Ireland in 1736 —
Further preferment of Dr. Clayton — His works.

CHAPTER XIL

Whilst Queen Caroline was employing her
time in raaking sinall ponds, since swelled into the
Serpentine River, in Hyde Park, or in the iraprove
raent of Richmond Gardens, or in reading, after
breakfast, Butler's Analogy, — that book which
Bishop Hoadley declared he could never look
into without a headach, — dissensions disti-acted
the Court, and embittered her peace of mind.
Seven promising children were the fruit of the
Royal marriage. Of these, the eldest, Frederick,
Prince of Wales, -was a continual source of vexa
tion and sorrow to both his parents. "He re
sembled," observes Horace Walpole, "the Black
Prince, only in dying before his father."
Notwithstanding this sneer, the dissolute, plea
sure-loving Prince was not devoid of raany quali
ties which would have rendered him, in after
times, the darling of the nation. He was liberal
and good-natured, and a complaisant husband,
whose infidelities shocked the people of his own
times far less than sternness or jealousy towards
his wife would have done. He was fond of his

286 MEMOIRS OF
children, even to doting, and he confided in his
father's subjects. In those days, it was gTatifying
to the people to see the heir-apparent walking
through the streets unguarded, and followed only
by a couple of servants. He had that accessibility
of manner which gives such an unspeakable charm
to royalty ; and he showed a nicety of principle,,
in one respect, which was beyond his age. He
always refused to give his vote in Parliament,
or to influence, in any way, the votes of his
household. His popularity, as it is well known, soon rose
to a height, and in a Court where the narrowest
German politics prevailed, infallibly produced a
coolness between him and his parents ; nor did
the young Prince act so wisely as to mollify- the
petty and buming jealousy which his father dis
played. It became his delight to thwart and
iiritate those parents, and it seemed his aim gra
dually to alienate them from him. That end was
accoraplished, and a disunion, never healed, was
the lamentable result.
WilUam, Duke of Cumberland, was yet a youth
when his mother died ; but there is every reason
to conclude, that had her life been spared, his
career would have been revolting to a disposition
which, however perverted in some respects by her
situation as a wife and as a Queen, was peculiarly
humane. Caroline, merciful to all, and more
especially to the unhajipy Jacobites, was spared
the hon-ors of the year 1745, which might have

LADY SUNDON. 287
been mitigated had her wise and gentle influence
stUl existed.
In the Princess Anne, her eldest daughter, the
Queen found litde consolation for the wilfulness
of her son Frederick. The young Princess was
imperious and ambitious, displaying, from an
early age, a most ambitious temper. One day,
on being reproved by her raother for wishing that
she had no brothers, in order that she raight
succeed to the crown, she broke out into the
exclaraation — "I would die to-morrow to be
Queen to-day !" Perhaps it had been happier for
herself, and more advantageous to the countty, if
the Queen had employed her time rather in cor
recting such great faults as appeared in her
chUdren than in settling points of conttoversial
divinity; but the early separation which, in this
counti-y, has generally taken place between the
Royal children and their parents, the independent
establishment, the consignment to filters and
governesses, have laid a foundation for that loss
of confidence, and consequent alienation which
during the Hanoverian dynasty, have ever been
so painfully manifested.
The Princess Anne received, at one time, pro
posals to becorae the wife of Louis the Fifteenth,
which were declined, on account of the difference
of religious faith. Another suitor was soon pre
sented to her : tliis was the Prince of Orange, a
vain, positive man, of Uttle mental energy, and
deforraed in person, and hideous in face. George

'28S MEMOIRS OF
the Second could not, as Horace Walpole relates,
in the honesty of his heart, and the coarseness of
his expression, help telling liis daughter how
fi-ightful a bridegroom she was to expect, and
signifying that she might refuse him if she liked.
The ambitious girl replied, that she " would marry
him if he Avere a baboon." " WeU, then," replied
the King, " there is baboon enough for you."
The Princess was married in March, 1731, pro
bably to the great relief of her parents, who,
though proud of her understanding and her
aeeomplishments, could not remain on terms with
the arrogant young lady. In 1751, she becarae a
widow, when she raade an atterapt to corae over
to England, in the hope of governing her father.
He, however, sent her back to Holland, and
never forgave her. She was not permitted even
to pass two nights in London.*
The Princess Araelia, of whom an account has
been already given, was not aUowed to share her
father's confidence ; and, though disposed to inter
fere in politics, was confined to receiving court
from the Duke of Newcastle, who affected to be in
love with her, and from the Duke of Grafton.
Three other daughters, alike beautiful, alike
ill-fated, paying, in the suffering of the affections,
the penalty of royal birth, at once consoled and
saddened the hearts of their parents.
The eldest, the loveliest, and the best of these
Princesses, was the Princess Elizabeth Caroline.
•? Horace Walpole's Reminiscences. See vol. i.

LADY SUNDON. 289
Even Horace Walpole bears testimony to her
superiority. It is much for him to eulogize any
human being, without some dark disqualification.
He terms her " one of the most excellent of
women," equally devoted to the Queen and to her
father ; and these fond, proud parents, were ac
customed to say, when any disagreement took
place araongst thefr children, " Send for Caroline,,
and then we shall know the truth." UnhappUy
for her peace of raind, the Princess attached her
self to Lord Hervey, then Lord ofthe Bedchamber,
to the Queen, and afterwards Lord Privy Seal.
Between Lord Hervey and the Duke of Grafton,
there was a mortal antipathy, and the Court rang
with the quarrels of the favourites of the two
Princesses ; but Lord Hervey, who, as Horace
Walpole expressively says, " handled all the
weapons of a Court," supported by Sir Robert
Walpole, to whom he paid great homage, retained
his ascendancy over the Queen. After her Ma
jesty's death, the days of the Princess Caroline
were overclouded ; she mourned deeply that event,
and never subsequently appeared in public. Four
years afterwards, a change of Ministry displaced
Lord Hervey, his death took place soon after
wards, and Caroline became henceforth a com
plete recluse. Her afflictions were solaced by
the consolatory power of showing kindness to
the children of him whom she had loved, and by
acts of generosity and charity to others ; but her
heart was broken. When urged to comply with
VOL. II. u

290 MEMOIRS OF
some request to which she was averse, she
answered mournfully, " I would not do it, even to
die." In her last illness, which ended in morti
fication, she exclaimed, " I was afraid 1 should
not have died of this." What a volume of wretch
edness is poured out in those words ! Immured
in two chambers in the dismal Palace of St.
Jaraes's, she dispensed, with unostentatious hands,
her charities. Many who knew not whence the
bounty came, missed her beneficence when sud
denly that bounty ceased, and then first discovered
its former source.
Mary, the fourth daughter of George the Second,
was raarried at seventeen, to Frederick, Prince of
Hesse, who broke her gentle spirit by his inhu
manity, until his death relieved her of her raiseries.
She is described as having been the gentlest of
her illustrious race : during her raarriage, vaiious
reports reached England of her failing health;
of her being liable to consumption ; but the
release from her tyrant seems to have effected
her cure.
Louisa, the youngest daughter, was yet a child,
when her royal mother died : she, also, was beau
tiful and gifted. Her mother almost idolized this
fafr creature, whose subsequent sufferings occuned
after the Queen's death. She was married in 1 74.3,
to Frederic, Prince Royal of Denmark, who, like
George the Second, kept a mistress to show that
he was not governed by his young and lovely
wife. Louisa possessed a fortitude worthy of her

LADY SUNDON. 291
high bfrth. On quitting England, she announced
to her brother, the Duke of Cumberland, her
determination never to complain to her faraily at
home, whatever might be her sorrows. She kept
her word, and only on her death-bed transmitted
to them a touching letter portraying her feelings.
She died in the prime of life, of a similar com
plaint to that frora which her raother suffered, after
undergoing in vain a severe operation.
Such were the family of Queen CaroUne ; and
with these Princesses Mrs. Clayton must have
been continually associated. Whether the influ
ence which she acqufred over the mind of then-
royal mother was acceptable to them or not does
not appear. That Mrs. Clayton continued in high
favour with her royal misttess, is evident; her
husband being created, in 17.35, Viscount Sundon
of the Irish peerage. Previous to this event, she
had resided for sorae tirae at Sundon, as appears
firom the following gaUant effiision from the pen
of Bishop Hoadley : — *
Permit me. Madam, by this paper, to congTatu-
late your Ladyship upon the honour his Majesty
has been pleased to do my Lord Sundon and
yourself I think the merits of you both towards
the Royal Family are as great as well can be.
I wish your Ladyship everything that you deserve ;
I can wish you no more ; if I could, I am pre-
* Published in the Life of the Bishop, by his son, Benjamin
Hoadley.
U2

20-2 MEMOIRS OF
vented now fi-om saying it, and have only time to
beg that you -ftill not go out of town without suf
fering me to wait upon you at any hour of any
day most convenient to yourself.
I am, with the same high and singular esteem.
Madam,
Your Ladyship's most faithful
humble servant,
B. Winchester.
Lord Sundon appears to have been exactly one
of those dull, official men, who will not mar
fortune if they cannot make it. Unfortunately
for his peace of mind, it was his lot to be one of
the Commissioners of the Treasury at the same
tirae with the celebrated Bubb Doddington, who
displayed his huraour by playing off his jokes
upon his colleague, whose actions were, as Charles
Lamb has described it, " ruled with a ruler."
One Thursday, when Doddington, Wilmington,
another Comraissioner, and Lord Sundon left the
Board at the Treasury, Lord Sundon laughed
very heartily at soraetbing Doddington had said.
Winnington observed to Doddington, " You are
very ungrateful; you call Sundon, stupid and
slow, and see how quickly he took what you said."
" Oh, no," replied Doddington, " he was only
laughing at what I said last Treasury day." Very
little raore is known of his Lordship, except
that when he sat in Parliament, he sided with the
Court on all occasions, and counting upon its
influence, put himself forward in a contested

LADY SUNDON. 29.3
election for Westrainster against the popular
candidate. A riot ensued, the railitary were
called in, and so indignant were the people, that
it was only with the greatest difficulty he escaped
with his life. An inquiry into this election in the
House of Commons created such a storm of oppo
sition against the Minister, Sir Robert Walpole,
that it formed one of the chief causes of his forced
retirement. The next letter refers to the niece of Sir Isaac
Newton, for whom Queen Caroline, as it is well
known, entertained the deepest reverence ; and
was heard to declare herself happy to have come
into the world at such a conjuncture of piety and
philosophy. Her favour extended to the de
scendants of that great man.
One of these, Mrs. Conduit, was married to a
man of wealth and importance. It is stated on
the back of one of her letters, that he was ap
pointed Warden of the Mint, in 1727, upon the
death of Sir Isaac Newton. That post was, how
ever, given to Sir Andrew Fountaine, of Narford,
celebrated for his collection of pictures, raedals,
and antiquities — a taste for which still exists in his
accomplished descendants. Sir Andrew was Vice-
Chambeiiain to Queen Caroline, and was tutor to
William, Duke of Cumberland — with what success,
let us leave it to the Jacobites to declare. The
statement relating to Mrs. Burr is interesting,
as referring to so near a relative of Sfr Isaac
Newton.

294 MEMOIRS OF
MRS. CONDUIT TO MRS. CLAYTON. May 1, 1733.
Madam,
I have a greater favom- to beg at Court than
I can hope to obtain, unless you will be pleased
to intercede for me. It is to ask a Dresser's place
to Princess Royal, to Mrs. Burr, niece to Sir
Isaac Newton, and daughter to Colonel Barbor,
who lost his life in that fatal party expedition to
Canada. She married the eldest son of Mr. Burr,
a Dutch gentleman, who, about fifteen years ago,
came over to inherit 4000Z. a-year, two of which
Ues in Burr-street, near the Tower, and the other
half about Harwich. Notwithstanding this great
estate, he suffers his son (a thing not common in
England) to struggle with so strait a fortune as
no economy can reconcUe to his birth and ex
pectations. To be placed in a Royal FamUy, in
whose cause at and ever since the Revolution
ours have had the honour to signalize theraselves,
and under such an incomparable mistress, in a
country where they have many friends and re
lations, (her mother being also a Dutchwoman,)
would make them supremely happy.
You, Madam, may be assured, though she is
my niece, I durst not presume to recomraend her
to the service of the Royal Faraily, if her merit
did not entitle her to be distinguished by those
who pattonize the worthy. She has had both a
genteel and prudent education, has a vei-y good

LADY SUNDON. 295
understanding, and such temper and goodness,
joined with discretion, (at three-and-twenty,) as
have carried her through a life of difficulties.
Such objects look upon you. Madam, as their sure
mediator to the source of bounty, and your favour
therein shall be always acknowledged with the
utraost gratitude by, Madara,
Your most obliged and
most obedient humble servant,
C. Conduit.
Mrs. Conduit appears, fi-om her letters, to have
been a singularly plain-spoken woraan — witness
her petulant answer to sorae letter of Lady
Sundon's, relating to the Nottingharashfre elec
tion. MRS. conduit to MRS. CLAYTON. Monday noon.
Madam, I have had no opportunity to raention what
we talked upon. If you think it worth while,,
you will not faU seeing everybody while you are
in waiting, and you are at full liberty to unde
ceive those Ministers who have an interest in
Nottinghamshire, who were the only persons who
thought themselves aggrieved. A good-for-nothing
courtier will never want such an apology. An
accusation which is founded upon good works is
of the sarae nature as the sin against the Holy

296 memoirs of
Ghost, from which, good Lord deliver us. I am,
with sincere respect. Madam,
Your obedient, humble servant,
C. Conduit.
I could not wait upon you to-day^, nor to
morrow. The request in the last letter but one was
gi-anted ; otherwise, the following address, wiitten
in 1 735, upon the occasion of Mr. Clayton's being
made a Viscount, would never have been penned.
MRS. CONDUIT TO LADY SUNDON.
Cranbury, Nov. 1735.
Madam, Give me leave to add one to the volume of
letters this post must bring you, since every sub
ject in England has an interest in the favours you
receive ; and as no titles can add to the respect
and distinctions the world has justly paid your
Lady^ship and ray Lord Sundon, this last honour
must be taken as a passport into greater ; which
that you may both long enjoy, is the sincere wish
of Mr. Conduit and of. Madam,
Your Ladyship's raost obedient
and raost obliged hurable servant,
C. Conduit.
A little Court gossip from Lady Pomfret again
places the deportment of Queen CaroUne in an
agreeable light.

LADY SUNDON. 297

LADY POMFRET TO LADY SUNDON.
Hanover-square, August 21, 1735.
You will not, dear Madam, I hope, think rae
unmindful of all the agreeable favours so lately
received at Sundon, though I did not acknow
ledge them the very night I came here, which
[ rather chose to defer to this post — first, because
I thought it not improper to give you some
respite between my company and my correspond
ence ; and last, because I might have a sight of
the Queen, to enable me to tell you she looked, as
she was, in good health. But before I mention
my yesterday's expedition, I must let your Lady
ship know that I obeyed your coraraands the
night before to Lord Sundon, to France, and to
the west. AU I can say of Kensington is, that it
is just the sarae it was, only pared as close as the
Bishop does the Sacrament. My Lord Pomfi-et
and I were the greatest sti-angers there ; no
Secretary of State, no Chamberlain or Vice-
Chamberlain but Lord Robert, and he just in the
same coat, the same spot of ground, and the same
words in his mouth that he had when I left them.
Miss Meadows in the window at work, &c. ; but,
though half an hour after two, the Queen was not
quite dressed, so I had the honour of seeing her
before she came out of her little blue room, where
I was graciously received, and acquainted her
Majesty, to her great sorrow, how ill you had
been; and then, to alleviate that sorrow, I in-

298 MEMOIRS OF
formed her how ranch Sundon was altered for the
better, and that it looked Uke a castle. From
thence we proceeded to a very short drawing-
room, where the Queen joked much with my^
Lord Pomfi-et about Barbadoes, and told him she
would have vrished me joy of it, but that Lady
Pembroke being in waiting, she feared to put her
in mind of her brother. That lady inquired after
you, and, by the little I saw of her, seeras still in
concern. I heard, but not at Court, that the two Ladies
of the Bedchamber and the Governess are yet on
so bad a foot, that upon the latter coming into
the roora to dine with. Lady Bristol, the others
went away, though just going to sit down, and
sttangers in the place. I ara very unwilling to
mention one thing, because I fear it will displease
Miss Dyves, who has so much jileased rae ; but it
is the discourse at present, and I believe very
ttue, that the Prince's wedding is put off till
May, as the King's return is to the latter end of
October. This, with Mr. Hervey's intention of
resigning his Equerry's place, is all the news I
know. Thus, dear Lady Sundon, you see I am
plunged as deep in chit-chat as if I had not been
out of it; and it is now but like a delightful
dream, that calmness, that freedora of thought,
of look, and action, enjoyed at home and im
proved at Sundon ; but here it is otherwise, and
our ffrst parents, at thefr- learing Paradise, could
not find it more necessary to hide part of their

LADY SUNDON. 299
bodies than we at Court do to hide pai-t of our
minds; but, whatever I do with my own, I am
siu-e my Lord Pomfret will not forgive me if I do
not declare so much of his, as to assure you of
his sincere thanks for the raany obUgations we
have all received, and join hira with myself, when
I tell you with what truth I am, dear Lady Sun
don, Your Ladyship's raost devoted,
humble servant,
H. Pomfret.
The Bishop of Killala had, at last, received the
preferment for which he had so long been eager ;
and in the next letter we find him Bishop of
Cork. His endeavours to retain the favour of
Lady Sundon were unremitting, and, in the pre
sent instance, assume rather an uncanonical
shape, as the reader will allow on the perusal of
the first few lines of the following epistle : —
the BISHOP OF CORK TO LADY SUNDON.
Dublin, May 15, 1736.
Madam,
By a letter I received this week from Mrs.
Duncorabe, I find that yom- Ladyship has been
disappointed in the receipt of some gTcen usque
baugh from this kingdom, which has not proved
as good as it ought to have been. I have ever
since been looking out to procure sorae, and have
this day delivered half a dozen bottles to the
captain of the yacht who canies over the Duke of

'300 memoirs OF
Dorset, to cany them to Chester, and have en
gaged Sir Seymour Pile, who goes over with the
Duke, to take care of and see them put into
the Chester waggon, directed for Lord Sundon ;
and least these should raeet with any misfortune,
I have likewise got six bottles more, which 1
shall put on board the first ship which goes from
hence to London by long sea, and shall direct
thera to be left at the Custom-house for Lord
Sundon. Before the ship sails, I shall do myself
the honour of writing again to your Ladyship ; I
shall send you the name of the ship, together
with the master's receipt. The fault of green
usquebaugh is, that it loses its coloiu- if it is kept
above a year ; and if it is drank before that time,
it tastes fiery and hot. However, I have ordered
a dozen bottles to be laid by for me, that I may
for the future be able to supply you with that that
is old, if these which I have now sent you should
happen to please you.
The Duke would have sailed frora hence on
Wednesday last if the wind had been fair, and
has been detained ever since by its continuing in
the east. I do not know whether he approves of
ray behaviour since he carae last over, but I do
not know that I have given him or any about
him any just cause of being displeased with me ;
but I have studied to do the contrary, and he
seems as if he was pleased. I asked his Grace
and the Duchess to dine with rae about three
weeks ago, which I had never done before since

LADY SUNDON. .301
his being Lord Lieutenant, to show him that the
little tokens of respect which it is in my power to
show should rather be for favours received than
for the expectation of receiving any. This I
know is not the common way of behaviom- ; and
the Bishop of Kilraore, who used to ask him
during the life of the late Bishop of Deny, has
not asked him to dine with him this year.
When I write to Lady Sundon, I find myself
naturally running into a long detail of my own
affafrs. I do acknowledge it to be impertinent ;.
but your Ladyship has given me so raany and
such strong proofs of zeal for my welfare, that I
cannot avoid saying something particular of my
self whenever I do rayself the honour of writing
to your Ladyship.
My wife begs that I may present her best ser
vices to your Ladyship and Lord Sundon when
ever I present those of your Ladyship's
Most faithful and
most obedient humble servant,
Robt. Cork.
I hope your Ladyship has received the suit of
linen which I sent you last, though I am ashamed
to mention it, having been much disappointed in
the fineness of it.
The bottles of usquebaugh are sealed with the
figure of St. Pattick on black wax.
The Bishop's next letter gives a curious account,
of the state of the South of Ireland.

302 MEMOIRS OF
the bishop of cork to lady SUNDON.
Cork, October 17, 1736.
Madam,
Since I had the honour of receiving your last
very obliging letter, I have been on a progress
round the reraote parts of my diocese, which
detained me above a month fi-om horae, otherwise
I should not have been so long silent, though
nothing particular had occurred to occasion ray
giving you the tt-ouble of a letter, but the desire
of presenting ray serrice and inquiring after your
health. While I was upon ray circuit I had an oppor
tunity of seeing many noble and romantic pros
pects, and raany parts of this country that are
now in the same state they were left at the
deluge. Other parts of it are well improved, but
you see everywhere a great want of inhabitants.
It is surprising to reflect that while the inhabit
ants of the northem parts of Ireland aro so
crowded that they are daily elbowing one another
off to the West Indies, the southern parts of this
kingdora are left alraost desolate. This is what
I know not how to account for, but by the linen
raanufacture, which is cultivated in the north, and
by the help of which a whole faraily is capable of
being supported on a sraall spot of ground. The
trades were indeed running into the herapen manu
facture, but an Act of ParUament, which jjassed
last sessions in England, has damped it most pro-

LADY SUNDON. 303
digiously, if it has not quite desttoyed it. This
Act has given a preraium of twopence a-yard to
all British exported saU-cloth, and obliged aU
ships built -vrithin the British dominions to have
thefr first suit of sails of British canvas. This
lessens the deraand at horae for Irish canvas, and
enables the English to undersell us in foreign
markets. I was an eye-witness of one factory
that has since been broken up. We are doing
all we can to encourage the spreading of the
linen manufacture, but that raust take time. In
the meanwhile the poor labouring people of this
country, who live upon farming, are kept exceed
ing poor ; the rent which they pay for thefr land
never circulating any more amongst them. The
Lord Burlington alone draws upwards of eighteen
thousand pounds a-year out of his tenants. The
labouring people of this countty are alraost all
Papists. The number of Papists to that of Protes
tants, through the whole country, including the
rich as well as the poor, is at least eight to one ;
and yet there is one very remarkable town in this
country, about twelve railes fi-om Cork, in which
there are about five hundred persons fit to bear
ai-ras, in which there has not been one Popish
inhabitant since the Revolution. If a Papist
should take or build a house in the town, nothing
but a railitary force could preserve it fi-ora being-
pulled about his ears.
While I was upon my progress, I had great
regai-ds shown me by the gentlemen of the

304 MEMOIRS OF
counti-y, — three of the principal of which. Sir
Richard Meade, Sir John Freke, and Sir Richard
Cox, attended me alraost the whole way. It was
a very expensive, but a very pleasant tour. As it
is custoraary in this kingdora for bishops at their
primary visitation to give a charge to their clergy,
and as it happened that the one which I made to
my clergy seeraed to please both the laity^ and
clergy that were present, I venture to send your
Ladyship a copy of it, and should be highly-
pleased if it is approved of by a person of your
accurate judgment.
I raust desire you will present my best services
to Lord Sundon, and accept of a sincere tender
of the same from
Your Ladyship's most faithful and obedient
humble servant,
Robert Cork.
Dr. Clayton had not yet attained the height of
his preferment, for he became Bishop of Clogher,
in August 26, 1745. He also wrote many other
productions besides letters to his powerful relative,
which brought him the reputation of being a
learned divine. After giving to the world vaiious
phUosophical works, Dr. Clayton directed his
attention to a subject which he had long had at
heart. This was, the leaving the Athanasian and
Nicene Creeds out of the Liturgy. On the 2nd of
February, 1756, he proposed that alteration in

LADY SUNDON. 305
the Irish House of Lords. His speech was after
wards published. On his retm-n from the House
the Bishop expressed to a friend, that his heart
was now eased of a load which had lain upon it for
twenty years. But his audience had heard him
with indignation and sorrow. The Primate re
marked, that it had made Ms ears tingle. Yet Dr.
Clayton was not called to account for his speech
until the following year, when, after publishing
the third part of his " Vindication of the Old and
New Testaraent," and renewing his attacks upon
the Doctiine of the Trinity, it was deterrained
by the heads of the Irish Church to proceed
against him; and the Duke of Bedford, then
Lord-Lieutenant, was ordered to take steps to
wards a legal prosecution.
Queen Caroline had at this time been long
dead, as well as Lady Sundon ; no poUtical influ
ence was at hand to save the Bishop. A censure
was expected, a deprivation probable ; but,
before the time appointed had arrived, Dr.
Clayton was no raore. A nervous fever, brought
on by agitation, was the cause of his death.
For the rigour of the proceedings against hira,
George the Second has been blamed; but, how
ever on the often abused plea of conscience, the
Bishop might justify his conduct, the purity of
the Church must, undoubtedly, be strictly main
tained. The toleration of others is raore a raatter
of surprise, than the measures contemplated
against Bishop Clayton. Twelve different works,
VOL. II. X

306 MEMOIRS OF LADV SUNDON.
some with considerable pretensions to erudition,
were the fruits ot his pen. Lie was a Fellow of
the Royal and Antiquarian Societies, and was held
in much esteem by many of his learned contem
poraries. His chief productions were : — " The
Chronology of the Hebrew Bible vindicated;"
" An impartial Inquiry into the Time ofthe Coraing
of the Messiah;" "An Essay on Spirit;" "A
Vindication of the Scriptures, in Answer to Lord
Bolingbroke ; " "A Journey fi-ora Grand Cairo to
Mount Sinai;" " Letters on Baptism, addressed
to WUUara Pence ;" and " Thoughts on Self-Love,
Innate Ideas, &c., occasioned by reading Mr.
Hurae's Works." Dr. Clayton died Febraary 25,
1758.

CHAPTER XIII.

Mrs. Clayton's faraily connected with the nobility — This
acknowledged by Viscountess Windsor and the Earl of
Sussex — The Court ladies at Tunbridge Wells — Duke
and Duchess of Marlborough — Court news — Mr. Che
nevix's proposal — Marriage of the Princess Anne to
the Prince of Orange — Public entry of the Prince and
Princess into Harlingen — Court ceremonies in Holland —
The Princess's ladies— Arrangements of the household —
A little dissatisfaction — An adventure in Holland —
Mrs. Clayton reconciled to Mr. Chenevix — Mean figure
made by the Court of Spain.

x2

CHAPTER XIIL

In a former part of this work we have intro
duced some specimens fi-om the correspondence
of Lady Sundon's nieces ; but as there were
several members of her family who were so fortu
nate as to obtain places at Court, and in that
position enjoyed opportunities of knowing what
was going on in the great world around thera, it
has been found advisable to connect together a
selection frora their letters, and forra thera into a
separate chapter. Although all of thera owed their
position to the influence of their powerful relative,
the Dyves's had connexions among the nobility,
as maybe gathered from more than one ofthe com
munications addressed to her by sorae of her dis
tinguished conespondents. The foUovring note
offers additional evidence of this. It is indorsed
"Lady Viscountess Windsor, Mrs. Clayton's
brother, my Lord Chancellor Jeffreys' daughter."
But this is a mistake ; the writer was the widow
of John Jeffries, second Baron Jefiries of Wera,
and was the only daughter and heir of PhUip
Herbert, Earl of Perabroke. She manied se
condly, Thomas Windsor, Viscount Windsor, in

310 MEMOIRS OF
the peerage of Ireland, who was raised to the
dignity of a Bai-on of England, by the title of
Lord Mountjoy of the Isle of Wight. He died
in 1738.* VISCOUNTESS WINDSOR TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Betchworthe, September 1.
Madam,
Permit me to assure you of the sincere part
I take in your concern for the loss of Mr. Dyves,
for whom I ever had a particular esteem, and
shall as soon as possible pay the respect due to
his meraory, though with a great deal of regret to
have this raelancholy occasion to show it ; it is
with pleasure I reflect his marriage vrith my sister
procured to me the honour of your acquaint
ance, which none can value more than her that is,
-with all esteem. Dear Madam,
Your obedient humble servant,
Char. Windsor.
I desire leave to present my humble service to
Mr. Clayton and my nephew Dyves.
The writer of the following letter, who it ap
pears also claimed relationship with Mrs. Clayton,
was Talbot Yelverton, second Viscount Longue-
viUe, created on the 26th Septeraber, 1717, Earl of
Sussex, appointed Deputy Earl-Marshal of Eng
land in 1725, in which office he assisted in the co-
• Burke's Extinct Peerage.

LADY SUNDON. 311
Tonation of George the Second ; he had previously
carried the golden spurs at the coronation of his
predecessor ; he was also made a Knight of the
Bath, and sworn of the Privy Council. It seems
that he aspired to other dignities ; but that for
which he is here an applicant we believe he did
not obtain. Mrs. Clayton was more fortunate in
behalf of his lady, Lucy, daughter of Henry
Pelham, Esq., uncle of Thomas, Duke of New
castle, for whora she obtained the situation of
Lady of the Bedcharaber to the three eldest
Princesses. the earl of SUSSEX TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Bath, September 12.
Madam,
The honour I have of being related to you,
and the professions of kindness you are so good
always to raake rae, encourage rae to give you
this ttouble, and to hope you will excuse it. It
is to acquaint you ray Lady Sussex, in her letter
to the Queen, this post, has at ray desfre begged
her interest with the King, that I might succeed
Lord Lincoln in the place of Cofferer. It is an
office of profit; but considering what I suffered
in my fortune, for not complying with a grand
father in Government points, I hope it wUl not be
thought unreasonable for me to pretend to. I,
however, entirely leave it to your management;
and as you 'have many opportunities with the
Queen, you must be the best judge what is proper

312 MEMOIRS OF
to do in it. I shall only add, that I beg it may
be kept as much a secret as possible.
The Princess, thank God, is very well, though
she has had a little cold. j\Iy wife begs her
humble service to you and Mr. Clayton, as I do
mine to him, and that you will believe rae to be,
Your most faithful,
obedient humble servant, Sussex.
Miss Charlotte Dyves accompanied her Royal
mistress to Tunbridge Wells, then one of the
most fashionable watering-places in England,
whence she despatched to her aunt her account
of what she had observed on the journey.
¦ MISS CHARLOTTE DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Tunbridge, July 7.
Dear Madam,
As you was so good as to give me leave to
write to you, I could not but takethe first oppor
tunity to thank you for the ciril manner with
which Lady Lyiine treats rae. We breakfasted
with Mrs. Celwyne* the morning we set out for
Tunbridge ; it was about eight miles out of the
way ; she was very civil, too. Lady Lyiine, as we
go from hence, is to stay a night or two there,
and she has done me the honour to ask me to
stay vrith Lady Lynne. My greatest pleasure, the
day I came here, was to think you was going to
* George Selwyn's mother.

LADY SUNDON. 313
a place where y^ou always live the most agreeably^
to yourself, and I can answer how happy you
make those that are so fortunate to be with you,
for I must always esteera it one of the choicest
blessings I can enjoy to be with you: every day
that comes, I think how much more agreeably I
should pass ray time if I was at Sundon. Lady
Lynne and I breakfasted this morning with Lady
Bristol, and she desired me to present her humble
service to you. Lady Burlington is extremely
ill still; she has never been out since I came. I
hear there is a great bustle about her waiting, and
that Lady Pomfret has written her a letter to say
she cannot wait for her, for sorae tiifling reason,.
which makes everybody call her vastly ill-natured.
And now, dear madam, after the many and great
obligations I have had to you, ray best returns can
never be raore than being, with great truth.
Your raost dutiftd and
obedient niece,
C. DY^rEft.
I beg my humble duty to my uncle. '^ ^^z**-^
The gossiping note that follows, is from her
brother's wife, to whose family Mrs. Clayton was.
a benefacttess. MRS. DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON.
London, August 28, 1716.
Your kind reproaches, my dear sister, make
me ashamed I did not write before, but the trae

314 MEMOIRS OF
reason was, I knew nothing that could be at aU
entertaining to you, but did not fail inquiring
after your health by my brother Clayton. 1 can
not express the pleasure your kind and agreeable
letter gave me, for which I am infinitely grateful,
and want words to tell you how much I esteem
and love you. I think there can be nothing in the
world more engaging than the freedom you write
with, and I hope I need not tell you, you ai-e very
safe in everything you say to me. I ara sorry you
pass your tirae no better: 1 heard of your dining
with the worthy Dean, and that his bill of fare
was so good, he would not let her Grace's venison
pasty come upon his table, — at least when it was
hot, — and that he had taken a cheerful glass, and
was very comical, and a little severe upon the
great lady, and that you were of the party at
ombre in the afternoon ; but did not hear it was
youi- daily drudgery, for I think it may be so
called, when you have so much of it, though it
be with a Prince and a wit. I really think, con
sidering your apartment, and altogether, that you
are under a small sort of confinement; I dare say
you can promise yourself no satisfaction that
yom- own home will not answer, which one can
say of few things one wishes. I am sure I long
to see you there. I ara mighty sorry for the
accident that happened to your clothes : it was
very provoking, and one had need of your good
understanding not to seem uneasy at things one
dislikes ; but, without compUraent, I always think

LADY SUNDON, 315
you judge right upon all accounts. You would
not excuse the length of your letter, if you could
know the satisfaction it gave me. Here is not
one of my relations, or scarce an acquaintance in
town ; so that if there be any sort of news, I hear
none. Mr. John Chetwynds and his spouse were
about to-day in town, and went one day to Hampton
Court, to wait upon the Princess, who was very civil
to you. I think her a very good-natured woraan;
she was so kind as to desire me to come, and Mr.
Dyves, every day to you : they are now gone into
Staffordshire. I hope you have no occasion for
the waters, — you drink so small a quantity. We
have had soraetiraes other reports of the Duke of
Marlborough, but I am glad to hear from you he
is so well. If the Duchess should not be highly
ciril to you, it would be raonstrous, considering
how true a fiiend you have been to her. I
am always, ray dearest sister, glad of everything
that is good to you. I think what my brother
Clayton has done is extremely kind, and at the
same tirae greatly think you merit all he can give
you. I hope Watty is better; the rest are all well,
and not a little proud you inquire after them.
I vrill conclude with the old truth, of being my
dear, dear sister. Most sincerely yours,
D. Dyve^.
A little gossip about the Court, from another
meraber of the faraily, wUl not be out of place
here.

316 MEMOIRS OF
' ' MISS DOROTHY DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON. July 16.
I was very sony, dear Madam, you should call
your commands to me troublesome, who shall
always receive them with great pleasure ; and as
to this affair, if there had been any alteration in
your waiting, I should certainly have written you
word of it as soon as I knew it. Mrs. Brudenel
kissed hands last Monday, for Bedchamber-
woman : she being now the last, and coming in
Lady Suffolk's place, who was the first, her wait
ing must happen to be Lady Suffolk's fortnight,
so that it can make no change in your waiting.
However, though I had heard this, I would not
venture to write to you without asking Lady^
Suffolk particularly about it; she told me, that
possibly Mrs. Brudenel and Mrs. Neale might
change, — that she could not tell, — but that it could
be no alteration as to your coraing, she was sure ;
but if anything should happen whilst I am at
Tunbridge, Mrs. Mordaunt will take care you
shall know it, the sarae as if I was here ; or if I
hear anything before I go, you shall be sure to
know it. I saw Lord Essex yesterday, who said
he had dined with you the day before ; he seemed
to like Sundon mightily. I was very glad to hear
you and my sister were well, and am,
Dear Madam,
Your dutifiil niece,
and most obedient humble servant, D. DvvBS:

LADY SUNDON. 317
In the year 1734, the Princess Anne was
manied to William Charles Henry, Prince of
Orange, and Miss Dorothy Dyves attended her
Royal Highness, when she accompanied the
Prince, after their nuptials, to Holland. The
following coraraunicatlon is the result of the
young lady's observations during the travels of
the Royal pair; it furnishes sorae curious par
ticulars of a part of the Continent then much
less known to tourists than at present : —
Miss DOROTHY DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Zeewarden, May 11, 1734.
Dear Madam,
As I am so far from my best friends, I hope
it will be an excuse for the foUowing long letter ;
but I really believe myself so much in your
favour, that you will not be displeased.
I must first thank you for your very kind letter.
I had no small pleasure in showing it to my
misttess, who said, "Dyves, I am glad to see
Mrs. Clayton loves you so well ;" she also said,
you had given rae an account of the election,
sensible, and like yourself, and coramanded me to
make her compliments to you whenever I wrote.
I hope you will give me the satisfaction of often
hearing from you, which will be double pleasure
to me ; for I shall always lay up your letters, as
good adrice, like old gold.
We crossed the Zuyder Sea from Amsterdam
in twenty-two hours ; (raany of them were very

318 MEMOIRS OF
sea-sick, but I was not at all sb. The Princess
saw she had been told the truth ; she lay in bed
all the time, and by that means was pretty well,)
and carae to Harlingen, where we lay, and con
tinued in the yachts fi-om Saturday noon to Tues
day morning, things not being ready for a public
entry. It was, indeed, very handsome ; the
coaches quite new, and the horses the finest I ever
saw. As I made a part of the procession, I can
give you but a little account of it; but what I do
know, I will trouble you with. There was a
leading coach with some of the States ; then fol
lowed her Royal Highness and the Prince of
Orange in a fine open coach and eight horses ;
the Prince of Orange's chariot, empty, followed
them. . . .* After us came the Princess
of Frieze's Maid of Honour, in one of her
coaches. We were ordered by our Princess
to take care of her everywhere. The Maid of
Honour is her dresser and everything else, for
she has no other woman-servant. After this, we
were followed by near a hundred gentlemen's
coaches. From the gate into Friezland, quite up
to the drawing-room, were guards to make a lane
for us, as close as they could stand, on both
sides. Their greatest compliment was firing just
under our noses ; it was so close, that they broke
several of our windows. The evening concluded
with the finest fireworks I ever saw ; but they
were so long, that it was past two before the
* Injured in original.

LADY SUNDON. 319
Princess went to bed, and near four before I was.
The Princess of Frieze dined with her Royal
Highness the day she came, and stayed till late
at night. Last night we had a drawing-room,
and really very well-looking people, and as fine
in clothes and lace as could be without gold or
silver. I believe there might be about forty
ladies, but more gentlemen. The Princess Royal's
behaviour quite pleased them. There was no
kissing of hands. She stood with them about
half an hour, and then retired, as in England.
Wednesday is fixed for drawing-room days. We
have all orders to be dressed. We have a coach
and footman to attend us when we go out. We
have just now all ten been to wait on the Princess
of Frieze in coaches, though it is not above half a
street's length. She was very civil. We all sat
down, and stayed about half an hour with her ;
then took leave, as in a visit. . . . Lady
Herbert is very civU to me, but Lady Southwell
is quite good ; being in the yacht together, caused
a good deal of intimacy. I cannot help owning I
like her best ; she is well bred and good-natured,
and I assure you no want of sense, that I have
yet seen. She certainly has a shyness, that raakes
people think she is wanting. They both endea
vour to put us upon the best foot that can be ; they
were resolved not to sit down with the Princess,
unless she asked us. I told thera, I thought it
impossible she could ask any, without asking all ;
and so we found it. Mr. Talbot went with us, in

320 MEMOIRS OF
which he judged UI ; for she asks no men to sit,
but was obliged to sit down herself, as she had
women there. The other gentiemen belonging to
the Princess went this raorning ; she stood with
them, but did not leave thera, as our Royal P'amily
¦does : so when they thought it a proper time, they
took leave. Mrs. Charles behaves very civilly to
me, indeed rather fiiendly than otherwise, and
has not let anything slip that she could tell the
Princess to my advantage. Mrs. Swinton is quite
angry that I was all the voyage with the Princess,
and scolded rae one whole day, which really
vexed me a good deal. Mrs. Charles told the
Princess of it, and how well I had behaved upon
it. The Princess spoke of it to rae, and bid me
not mind it ; for she would raccommode her, as
she called it, and so she has, I believe, for she
has behaved well lately. The Maids of Honour
are very well, except poor Miss Howe. ,
I have made bold to tell all the young folks
that I ara very glad to see thera in an after
noon, but raust have my moming to myself:
the two Ladies and Mrs. Charles do the same.
The first day the Prince of Orange's servants
and the pages were coming to my room all day
long; but I assured them it was the last time
they should do so, and have been very quiet
since. We have people found us that clean our
rooms and wash for us, so there is no expense of
that kind ; sheets and towels are also found.

LADY SUNDON. 321
silver candlesticks, and china, (tea-things, I mean,)
and sugar.
The Ladies of the Bedchamber and Maids of
Honour dine together, and sorae of the Prince of
Orange's servants. We have a table that holds
eight to ourselves and the Princess's dinner; so
each of us has the liberty to invite one. I have
talked a good deal of keeping good company^, and
I do believe we shall. I invited Miss Herbert
to-day. We have hitherto had none but people
that were fit to dine with us. Lady Southwell I
have invited to-morrow, and told Lady Herbert,
I knew she could not, as she was in waiting.
They are all glad to be with us, for we have by
much the best table ; no allowance of wine, but
may call for what quantity and what sort we please :
we have two raen to wait.
I think our lodgings very^ good ; but the Prince
of Orange told us he was sorry he could not
accommodate us better, but it was only for a little
while, and we should find more room in other
places. ... I am acquainted with Mr.
Chenevix. He is quite obliging and civil to me ;
he is with me every morning for an hour, to teach
me French, which is really doing me a very great
kindness, and giving hiraself a good deal of
trouble.* You were so good to leave nothing-
undone that could be useful to rae or please me.
• The reader will presently see the result of these French
lessons. VOL. II. Y

322 MEMOIRS OF
I hope and think you -(rill never find me un
grateful. The Princess depends upon retuming to Eng
land again in a very littie time. She told me to-day,
that there would not be room for either me or Miss
Pott at Com-t, but that she would send her to her
mother, if she liked it, and me, wherever I pleased,
unless I would be with my sister. I told her, if
you were in Bedfordshire, I believed you would
give me leave to spend sorae of my time with you.
She said, " Mrs. Clayton would be glad of you,
Dyves, and I vrill send you." I hope it will not be
inconvenient for me to be a little time with you,
for I ara sure it will give me vast pleasure. I
shall also spend some time with my dear Fanny,
if she has room, and some with my good friend,
Mrs. Vanbrugh. I cannot, for my life, make
myseK believe it will be so soon as this suramer ;
everybody else does believe it, so I keep my
thoughts to myself I do not think anybody but
the Princess seems much pleased : it is two very
fatiguing journeys, in a very short time, to be
sure ; but yet I must own I should be very glad
to have an opportunity to spend a little time
with you. Madam (ray best) and the rest of ray
friends. I hear, nobody that chooses to stay here
need go; but every one will be ashamed to do
that, for it looks as if they had no place to go
to. ... I shall write a word or two to my
sister, but cannot possibly write all this over
again, and therefore beg the favour of you.

LADY SUNDON. 323
Madam, to show it her. The Princess Royal
and Prince dine at one o'clock, and sup at nine ;
but for all that, it is near twelve before I can get
to bed, for we do not sup till they are in bed.
Hearing fi-om you, Madam, wUl give great plea
sure to Your most dutiful,
humble servant,
DoROTS^ DyveSI
My best respects to Mr. Clayton. Every one
here desired serrice and respects to you, but more
particularly Lady Herbert, Lady SouthweU, and
Mr. Chenevix.
I hope you will forgive my giving you the
trouble of these letters. The Princess ordered
me to lay all ray letters upon her dressing-table ;
but I did not think it right to trouble her with
more than one packet, and I thought directing it
to you was the surest way not to have it raiscany,
I beg the favour of you to send Mr/s:Vanbrugh's
to the penny-post-house.
Miss Dyves appears to have found sorae cause
of dissatisfaction in the conduct of her Royal
mistiess, although in general, her position must
have been an agreeable one.
Miss DOROTHY DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON.
May 29, N.S., W34i
Dear Madam,
I expect with impatience the pleasure of a
letter from you, as you was so good to promise
Y 2

324 memoirs of
me. I have had one from Fanny, which is all I
have had fi-om any of my fiiends since I came
here. The Princess Royal promised iiie she w ould
write to Princess Caroline, to chide Fanny, which
I think she deserves ; though, perhaps, as hearing
fi-om our friends is our chief satisfaction, wc may
expect so much. This I doubt will be an expense
to you, for we can no longer send them post free,
and M'hat conies to us we pay for, unless they are
actuaUy under the Princess's own cover. Her
Royal Highness continues her great goodness to
me, and as I read to her, am with her very much.
I read five hours yesterday ; she commends me
very much to Lady Southwell, who is very civil
to me. Lady Herbert behaves well enough, but
nothing extraordinary. One thing, I think, is a
little odd, which is,. that I am the only one she
has not asked to dine at her table ; she sjioke
very handsomely of you, and desired her service,
whenever I wrote. She either takes soraetbing ill
fi-om me, or does not like me : I ara quite sure I
have done nothing to deserve it, and carae over
much more biassed to her than Lady Southwell.
By my being so much with the Princess, I have
been eraployed to speak to her alraost about
eveiybody's business, which raakes rae well es
teeraed araongst them ; so I flatter myself you will
hear no ill character of me, and that I shall in
some degree corae up to what you. Madam, were
so good to say for me. You may believe, Madam,
I never miss an opportunity of naming you to her

lady SUNDON. 325
in the manner you deserve, not only^ from me but
every one whora you honour with your friendship.
I plainly see my Royal raistress has a prodigious
good opinion of you, which gives me great plea
sure. The greatest compliment we can raake the
Princess is to show her our English letters ; so if
you have anything to write you do not care she
should see, please to send a double letter, for
though I woidd not choose she should see all, I
would show her the first. She told me to-day we
should go to the Hague for ten or twelve days, in
three weeks' tirae, and from thence to England,
which indeed gives us all great pleasure. By
taking proper opportunities, I can already speak
to the Princess Royal as well as I could to your
self, especially as I have her so much alone.
There is a great pleasure in thinking that, some
time or other, one may have it in one's power to
assist one's friends. I am quite hapj^y that she is
pleased with ray reading, and do not find it is at
all troublesome to me, but it raakes me have little
time for anything else. I hope Mr. Clayton is
well, and beg ray best respects to him and service
to Miss Charlotte Dyves, and I am.
Dear Madara,
with the greatest respect,
Your dutiful and obliged hurable servant,
D. DyveS'.
The adventure which follows appears singular
for a Maid of Honour to be engaged in.

326 MEMOIRS OF
MISS DOROTHY DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Hague, Deceraber 6, N.S., 1734.
Dear Madam,
I had done myself the honour of writing to
you from Harwich, if that place had afforded
anything that could have been any way agreeable
to you : we had a very good passage from thence ;
we set sail on Tuesday evening, and anived at
Nelvort by ten on Thursday moming. Friday,
indeed, was a day of very great hardships ; we
were to walk fr-om thence to the Brill, which is
seven miles. As I never was a tolerable walker, I
was reduced to take to an open waggon, which
was a most dangerous passage, by reason of the
badness ofthe roads. I was the only one would ven
ture ; none of the gentleraen had courage enough
to accorapany me, (self-preservation will always
get the better of complaisance.) I went quite by
myself, for I did not think it reasonable to raake
my maid run the hazard of her neck, because I
had no legs : the roads were the worst I ever saw,
but not so bad as they were represented ; the
worst thing to me was the cold, — that was so ex'
tteme that I had a sraarting all over me, as if I
had been cut with knives. I got to my journey's
end almost an hour before everybody else, and
went into a public-house, where I got a good fire
and a large quantity of brandy, which soon re
covered me ; but indeed, when I first went in, I
did not think I could surrive it : I imagined I had

LADY SUNDON. 327
lost all my teeth, for they then felt to rae all
loose. You, Madara, will think this a strange
description ; but I do assure you, I would much
rather go out of the world at once than go
through it again. I am rejoiced to think the
Princess is of so warm a constitution, for though
everything will be made as convenient to her as
possible, she has a terrible journey to go through:
it ti-oubles me a good deal that I was not with
her, because I am fearful I am not so useful
to her as I thought myself We arrived at the
Hague about eight on Friday night; the Prince
came to us in half an hour, and told us he was
much surprised that the Princess did not lie in in
England, after what Dr. Douglas and Dr. Tissue
had wi-ote him. He seemed very uneasy for her,
and set out from hence to meet her the next moi-n-
ing ; he was extreraely gracious and good to us
aU. We meet with great civUities from the Ladies :
though they did not come to the Princess, when
she was here last, most of them have been with us ;
which makes me hope they will alter their beha
viour to our Royal misttess. Lady Alberaarle
does not go out, but we have been twice at her
assembly, by invitation, and are every day invited
somewhere : I fear we shall have too much of it.
We were yesterday invited to a concert, by a Jew,
but as I did not think it would be of any use to
the Princess to show him any particular civility,
I chose to stay at horae. (I beUeve nobody en
joys being alone so much as those whose fortune

328 MEMOIRS OF
casts them into a Court.) 1 hear we are to have
half a year's salary in a very little time, which
will be very acceptable to everybody. I have had
a letter from my sister, at Bath ; I do not find she
mends so fast as I hoped for, but have wrote to
her, to tell her she may draw upon Mrs. A'an-
brugh whenever she wants money: she is so good
to lend it me till I receive my salary ; when I do,
I shall be sure to remit the money to you, in cora
pliance with the bond I gave you, taking out
3Z. 3*., as you was so good to give me leave, that
I had laid out for my sisters ; and when you.
Madam, are repaid, that is, what you please
to take, (paid you never can be,) I know you are
so good you will think it reasonable for me to be
paid what I shall lay out. One would now try
what can be done ; but I own I have little hopes
of her : when she has taken the next season, she
will have had a fair trial. Dr. Tissue wrote to Dr.
OUver, at Bath, from Harwich, to desire hira to
visit her upon his account, and to be sure to take
no fee, and to write his real opinion, whether
there was any araendraent or a probability of any,
but we have not yet had his answer. I hope,
Madam, this will find you in perfect health ; and
that you wUl Uve as long and happily as I wish
you to do, is the sincere desire of.
Dear Madam,
Your most dutifiil and obliged
humble servant,
DoRo«s*- Dyve».

LADY SUNDON. 329
On her retm-n to England, Miss Dyves resuraed
her communications with her aunt.
MISS DOROTHY DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON.
July 11, 1734.
Dear Madam,
I am not a little proud of the long letters you
are so good to honour me with. Though I raust
own I deserve a reproach, I can hardly bear it frora
one I have so great a regard to. It is best to
tell trath; therefore, after begging you a thousand
pardons, I fairly confess it was quite forgetfulness
and giddiness in rae that I did not tell you of the
Princess's pregnancy^ I know you are so good,
you will forgive the first fault, and it shall be my
care to give you no further cause of complaint ;
this has vexed me heartily.
I designed to have had the pleasure of paying
my duty to you on Monday next, but it wUl now
be that day se'nnight ; Dr. Cheark assures me it
will be the same thing to him. Lady Page has
engaged me to go a little party of pleasure with
her; she is my very good fi-iend, and I was quite
sure you, Madam, would be best pleased to have
me keep that up. She came fi-om Greenwich to
Kensington, fearing I might refuse her if she
Avrote ; and not finding me there, she went to
London, and went to five or six houses, tUl she
found me. We go three coaches and six to
Chatham, on board Captain Vanbrugh's ship,
where we are to spend one day, and after that

330 MEMOIRS OF
take a little toui- in Kent. I go to Lady Page's
house on Sunday next, and we begin our journey
on Tuesday- I shall return to Kensington on
Satm-day, and set out forBedfordshire the Monday
following, where I propose great pleasure, as in
deed I have always found in your company.
As to my money affairs, I shall let it alone tUl
you come to town, having no present occasion ;
I know it is the same thing to you to receive
what you were so good to give me credit for then
as now : I do not believe I can receive it without
a power fi-om you. I shall be sure to observe all
your directions punctually. You are very good to
write so long and intelligible a letter, that I might
have no trouble at all; indeed, Madam, I shall
be very glad to stay as long as you do, but would
not hope you would be so long troubled with me.
Now I must teU you, dear Madam, I was very
graciously received by the Queen : I went to the
Drawing-roora as soon as I got my clothes, and
the Queen talked a good deal to me, which I ara
sure I did not expect. It is a great thing to be
your relation ; I daUy find the advantage of it, and
do assure you I am thoroughly sensible of, and
truly grateful for, all your goodness ; when I have
the pleasure to see you, I shall have many things
to teU you, which I omit rather than make this
scrawl more tedious. I now beg leave to con
clude, dear Madam, with the gi-eatest respect,
Your dutiful and most obliged humble servant,
DoRoina* Dyve|.

LADY SUNDON. 331
Miss Dorothy Dyves appears to have drawn
upon herself the attention of her powerful kins
woman and pattoness, in one of those affairs in
which the young and the old so rarely agree.
Miss DOROTHY DYVES TO MRS. CLAYTON.
Dear Madam,
My sister and self intended ourselves the
honour of waiting upon you this afternoon, but it
proves so windy that we could not walk ; we both
hope you are well after yom- journey. I have not
words to express my thankfulness to you and
Mr. Clayton, for your kind and agreeable enter
tainment at Sundon, where I am sure I shall
always wish to be. I saw the Princess last night,
and told her you desired your humble duty, and
that you would be at Kensington on Thursday.
I told her you had asked me whether I thought
she would choose to see you in the Drawing-room
or in her own apartment ; her words were, " How
can Mrs. Clayton imagine I shall not like to see
her anywhere ? " and bid rae make her compli
ments, and tell you so ; she said she was sure
you would be glad to see her, for that she knew
you were her friend. I am sorry to find that Mr.
Chenevix's proposal to rae is talked of here ; the
Princess joked a little about it last night: there
is nothing but your being so rauch against it that
gives rae any trouble ; though I hope you wUl not
be disobliged, yet it is very uneasy to me to think
of doing anything that you disapprove of. I

332 memoirs OF
never would bring myself to talk to you upon this
affair, which made me choose this way to let you
know it has taken wind. If it is not inconvenient,
1 beg tiie favour of you to write a Uttle note for
rae to receive my moneys, and I would get Mr.
Reynolds to do it for me some day^ this week ; if
you have no objection, I shall be ready to wait on
you to the Drawing-roora to-raorrow.
I am, dear Madam,
Your dutiful and obliged humble servant,
D0R0Tȴ DyveI.
The gentleman referred to by Miss Dyves
was Chaplain to the Princess Royal, but he was,
evidently, not considered by the Queen's favourite
a person of sufficient consequence to match with
her niece. The family of Chenevix came ori
ginally from France, emigrating to this country
on the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Having
been educated for the church, Richard Chenevix,
who now became Miss Dyves's suitor, obtained
the patronage of Lord Scarborough, to whom,
while that nobleman was one of the Gentlemen
of the Bedchamber to George IL, he owed his
introduction at Court. The following sensible
letter will introduce Mr. Chenevix to the reader
better than we can pretend to do : —
THE REV. RICHARD CHENEVIX TO LADY SUNDON.
London, November 24, 1734.
Madam,
I am very sensible that nothing but the
nature of the subject I trouble you upon could

LADY SUNDON. 333
excuse the liberty I now take of troubling you
at all. Were I myself only interested, I should
have observed a respectful silence, but the part
that one has in it, who has the honour to be so
nearly related to you as Mrs. DyveSi,* deserves
my utraost concern, and even in respect to you,
requires this hurable application from me.
I know you are apprised of Mrs. Dyves' favour
able and partial sentiments for rae, which, as I
am far from deserving, I am far from expecting
they should meet with the approbation of her
friends; but, since she has been pleased to
declare thath tose sentiments, undeserved as
they are on my part, are unalterable on hers,
give me leave. Madam, to lay before you what
arguments I am able to urge, not to induce you
to approve, but to prevail with you to forget and
forgive her ill choice.
It is a difficult thing for a man to speak of him
self, and, whatever he may say, his character will
and ought to be taken from the voices of others,
and not fi-ora his own; I shall therefore only say,
upon this subject, that I flatter myself that I
may safely refer my character to the testimonies
of all that know me. I:f it is not distinguished
by any raerit, I hope at least it is not sullied by
any blemish: the Earl of Scarborough, who has
* The prefix " Mistress" was, even up to this comparatively
recent period, applied to unraarried ladies. "Mistress" was,
however, only assuraed by gentlewomen of a certain rank in
society : their inferiors were " Misses."

334 MEMOIRS OF
long honoured me with his protection, I believe
will not scruple declaring his sentiments upon
this point.
As to ray fortune, I pretend to none : my salary
as Chaplain to her Royal Highness, and a
living that brings me in one hundred pounds a
year clear, is all I have ; but the honour of serving
the Princess Royal will, I hope, be thought a
reasonable earnest of some fiiture preferment,
and could I ever be happy enough to obtain your
jirotection, I might flatter mypolf that I should
one day owe to your goodness what I can never
expect from my own merit — such a competency
of fortune as may make Mrs. DyveV choice a
little less unequal.
My bfrth, I raay venture to say, is that of a
gentleraan. My father long served, and at last
was killed in a post where he was very well
known — a post that is oftener an annual sub
sistence, than a large provision for a faraily, and
that small provision was unfortunately lost in the
year twenty. One of ray brothers is now in the
array, — I in a profession not thought below jDcople
of the ffrst rank; another, indeed, keeps a shop,
but I hope that circurastance rather deserves
corapassion than conterapt. He found an honest
and advantageous settieraent upon those terras, in
which he is justified by the frequent practice of
people much above him, who have not even his
excuse of necessity.
This, Madam, is all I have to offer, (and I

LADY SUNDON. 335
know how insufficient it is,) to lessen, at least,
your dislike of Mrs. Dy veV choice. Her happiness,
upon which mine depends, I am sure can never
be complete while she is under your displeasure.
How much soever you may have reason to blame
her resolution, let me apply to your good nature
to forgive it: she decides, it is true, in favour of
one in every respect undeserving of that prefer
ence, but give me leave to add, too, that it is in
favour of one who will raake it the business of
his whole Ufe to supply the want of that fortune
and that raerit she so well deserves, by an atten
tion and regard to everything that concerns her,
so as to make her repent as little as possible of
this imprudent choice, — this only error of her
judg-ment. I ask pardon for having troubled you so long,
but, I hope you will forgive ray importunity in a
cause upon which all my happiness depends.
Your favour and protection must be our support
and our credit ; your character is too justly
valued, not to heighten or lessen that of those
you protect or discountenance. How ambitious
I am to obtain, though unable to deserve that
protection, shall appear by every word and action
of my Ufe, and by that unalterable respect and
veneration with which I have the honour to be.
Madam,
Your most hurable and
most obedient servant,
R. GlIEMEVIS^

336 MEMOIRS OF
It appears that Mr. Chenevix was in the suite
ofthe Princess of Orange, at her husband's Court.
The circumstance of his brother's keeping the
famous toy-shop, out of which Horace Walpole
asserts he piu-chased Strawberry HiU, was, cer
tainly, no recommendation to him with Lady Sun
don ; but it appears not to have prejudiced him
with the fair Maid of Honour, as is evident in his
next communication.
: . THE REV. R. CHE!*eVI.X TO LADY SUNDON.
Hague, January 18, 1734-5, N.S.
Madam,
The fear of being troublesome was the
reason I forbore writing sooner ; but my diffidence
at last Itas given wa)- to the great desire I had of
expressing my most humble thanks for the honour
of yom- letter, which nobody can be more sensible
of than I am, however mortified I may be to find,
from some parts of it, the continuance of your
disapprobation of what the happiness of my life
raust depend upon. I confess I cannot justify
the prudence, though I approve the partiality
of Mrs. Dyven' choice ; but yet, as it is at worst
but a worldly irapi-udence in her, I flatter rayself
you will not think it a season for withdi-awing
that kindness you have hitherto showed her,
which I ara persuaded she deserves, and which I
am sure she will always desire. As to myself,
Madara, I told you very naturally, in ray fonner
letter, the state of my small circumstances, and I

LADY SUNDON. 337
can now with the sarae truth assure you that my
chief motive for desiring to better thera will be,
that neither Mrs. Dyvet nor any of her relations
may suffer by the inequality of her choice. Frora
the first of our being seiious, she, with all possible
sincerity, apprized me of the unfortunate situation
of her family ; and out of an entire regard and
affection to her, I always promised her, by word
of raouth and in several of my letters, that what
ever increase of fortune I might at any time
receive from the kindness of my fiiends, she raight
depend upon being absolute mistress of.
I will trouble you no longer, Madam, upon this
subject, upon which I could urge no arguments
so favourable for Mrs. Dyve» and rayself as those
that I ain sure your known good nature and
huraanity will suggest to you ; to those alone I
refer, and frora those alone I flatter myself with
some hopes of your future protection, and am,
with the utmost respect and submission,
]Madam, Your most humble and
most obedient servant,
R. Chenevix.
Lady Sundon at last relented, and employed
her influence in advancing the interests of Mr.
Chenevix, af'ter he had united his fortunes with
those of her niece. He found another powerfid
patron in Lord Chesterfield, to whom he had
been recommended by the Earl of Scarborough.
VOL. II. z

338 MEMOIRS OF
With such friends, he soon rose in his pro
fession. Haring obtained the degree of Doctor
of Divinity, his preferment was rapid. Ho
became Chaplain to the Earl of Chesterfield,
dming his Lordship's mission in Holland, and,
through his influence, was raised to the see of
Killaloe, in Ireland, and subsequently to the more
wealthy one of Waterford. Dr. Chenevix made
an excellent Bishop, and, as he proved as good
a husband and father, Lady Sundon had no
reason to be dissatisfied with the position of her
niece.* THE REV. R. CHENEVIX TO LADY SUNDON.
Hague, October 4, 1736.
Madam,
This waits on your Ladyship with my most
grateful acknowledgments for the kind message
you was pleased to honour me with by Mrs.
Mailboiu-nc, who told me you had been so good
to speak to the Queen in my behalf, and to repre
sent to her Majesty my great loss of a father in
the service, and my serving public Ministers so
many years. I flatter myself, the employment I
have now the honour to enjoy, will be still a
stronger recommendation than any of the former.
My hopes are very much raised, by being assured
bf your Ladyship's patronage and protection, by
* For further information respecting this amiable prelate,
the reader is referred to the works of Bishop Chenevix, and
to Lord Mahon's recent edition of the Letters of the Earl of
Chesterfield.

LADY SUNDON. 339
this last mark of your favour, which has raade too
great an irapression ever to be forgot by.
Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obliged and
obedient hurable servant,
R. Chenevix.
My wife joins vrith rae in most humble service
to your Ladyship and my Lord Sundon.
We must introduce the reader to another mera
ber of Mrs. Clayton's faraily, to whora she had
been a benefactress. He appears to have filled
sorae honourable capacity in the suite of Lord
Alberaarle. JONATHAN dyves, ESQ., TO MRS. CLAYTON. i
Gibraltar, August 2.
Madam,
I hope your goodness will excuse this pre
suraption, which proceeds entirely fi-om a desire
of acknowledging- in some raeasure my duty and
gratitude to the best of aunts, and, as I know
myself altogether incapable of expressing my
thankfulness in terras equal to my thoughts, my
sincerity, I hope, may prove a just plea for my
want of expression, and your indulgence grant
me (what I am most ambitious of) a continuance
of your goodness to me.
As I have met with great civUities in all the
places I have been in, I must at the same time
own myself obUged to you for them, particularly
z 2

340 MEMOIRS OF L.4DY SUNDON.
at Lisbon, where Lord Tyrawly* inquired mightily
how you did. The heats being so excessive, we
scarce stined out the whole time we were there;
and, as we soon grew tired of the place, we went
from thence to Seville, where the Coiut was at
that time ; and by a particular honour done to
Lord Alberatuie, who had a public audience
granted him, (an honour very rarelj' obtained,)
we had an opportunity of seeing how mean and
despicable a figure the Court of Spain makes, in
eoraparison to that of England ; having soon
satisfied our curiosity there, we set out for Gibral
tar, where we live in strict confinement, banished
fiom everything that is agreeable or pleasant;
but as our expectation and curiosity are fully
answered here, I do not doubt but Lord Albemarle
will soon take his leave of this place, though it is
yet uncertain where we shall go next, or when wc
shall arrive in England, where I shall have an
opportunity of paying my duty to my uncle, and
showing with how much truth,
I am. Madam,
Your raost dutiful and
raost obedient nephew,
dOIIN DVVES.
* James O'Hara, Lord Tyrawly, husband of the Lady
Tyrawly famous for her absence of mind ; — which exhibited
itself in several ridiculous ways, — such " as stumbling against
t post, and then curtsying, and begging her Ladyship's par
don." — Suffolk Letters, vol. i. p. 278.

CHAPTER XIV.

A Lord Lieutenant of Ireland negotiating a marriage — Mrs.
Strangways Horner's travels to the German Spa — Dr. Boer-
haave's opinion of a fine lady's malady — -Singular matri
monial negotiations on the part of the Duke of Dorset —
The characteristic letters of Mrs. Strangways Horner —
Marriage of Miss Horner to the Earl of Ilchester —
The Coimtess of Oxford, on behalf of the Countess of Kin
noul — Lady Kinnoul stating her own case — The Countess
of Pomfret — Lady Oxford and Sir Robert Walpole— The
Duchess of Bolton's opinion of Lady Sundon — Eetirement
of Lady Suffolk from Court — Death of the Queen — Ke-
tirement of Lady Sundon — The apparent neglect of her
correspondents — Deaths of Lord and Lady Sundon.

CHAPTER XIV.

Many and vaiious forras of application have
been presented to the reader, but we have, in the
next letter, a very different kind of suitor, and
altogether a different species of negotiation. In
this instance the applicant's object is to obtain a
wife for his son, and Lady Sundon is appealed to,
as a near kinswoman, to act as ambassadress to the
mother of the young lady. The contracting par
ties were persons of no ordinary importance ; the
writer of the letter being Lionel, seventh Earl and
first Duke of Dorset, at this period Lord Lieu
tenant of Ireland, to which post he was again
called about twenty years later. He was the
friend of Swift and Pope, and other celebrated
literary men, and held different offices in the
reigns of Queen Anne, and George the First,
Second, and Third. He was born in 1687, and
died in 1765. This letter also affords a curious
specimen of the manner in which mairiages were
made up, in those days, among the higher classes.
the duke of DORSET TO LADY SUNDON.
Dublin Castle, January 31.
Madam,
I ought to beg your pardon for renewing, at
this distance of time and place, a conversation

344 ME.MOIRS OF
which I had the honour of having with youi
Ladyship, relating to Miss Horner and Lord
Middlesex ; you may jirobably forget it, but it is
impossible for me not to remember the many
obliging things you said on this occasion.
Lord Middlesex was then abroad, and the
lady so young, that I do not know whether she
may now be of such an age as not to raakc^ any
applications to her mother as yet improper.
But of that, Madara, you are the best judge ; and
if your Ladyship is of an opinion that proposals
of such au alliance.' would not be unaeeeptable to
Mrs. Horner, ! must beg leave to ask your advice
aud assistance in the conduct ofthis affair.
At my return to England, I hope to have the
pleasure of talking it over with your Ladyship;
and, iu the meantime, should be much obliged
to you, if you would be pleased to turn this
matter in your thoughts, and to let me know how
circumstances are, and whether any steps arc
necessary and profjcr to be taken at jiresent.
I must again beg pardon for troubling you in
this manner, vvhich, indeed, I should not have
done, if I had uot a ^ ery great regard for your
judgment, or was not, with the greatest respect,
Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obedient,
and most faithful humble servant, Dorset.
The mother of the young lady referred to in
his Grace's communication was Mrs. Strangways

LADY SUNDON. 345'
Horner, the lady of Thomas Strangways Horner,
Esq,, of Mells, Somersetshire. This collection of
manuscripts contains several letters, and nearly
ell, except the first, exhibit her in the character of
a complainant, — by^ no raeans an uncommon cha
racter ; the grievance in this case being the lady's
husband, — a case also far fi-om being singular.
The following letter records Mrs. Horner's travels
to the fashionable German Spa; it is curious,
particularly as giving Dr. Boerhaave's opinion of
a fair lady's malady, and for the description which
it affords of the water treatment in those days,
which resembles, in some particulars, the method
lately introduced into this country as a novelty.
MRS. STRANGWAYS HORNER TO MRS. CLAYTON.
August 10.
Madara, I am convinced by the lively remembrance I
retain of the honours you have done me, that
neither distance of place, nor length of time can
make rae liable to forget the many distinguishing
marks of your fiiendship to rae ; and I flatter
rayself that you will be as pleased to hear as I
am to tell you, that (after innumerable fatigues)
we are at last airived safe at Spa ; we came
hither Sunday se'nnight; I should have been
here sooner, if I had not fallen extremely ill at
Utrecht. I shall not enter upon a tedious detail
of those complaints which detained me there,
but (from the kind regard upon all occasions-
you express for me) take the liberty to communi-

346 MEMOIRS OF
cate Dr. Boerhaave's opinion upon ray illness.
He says that all ray illness proceeds from a
huraoui- StUl left and fluctuating in my liver, with
a total ralaxation or weakness; that before I ean
have any chance to reco\er, that huraour must be
removed, and afterwards that relaxation or weak
ness sta-engdiened. This, he says, must be a work
of tirae, for that I ara too weak to bear any strong
medicines without great danger. He directed
sorae gentle methods, — the Sjia water, if it agreed
with me ; as much exercise as ray strength will
bear, and a warra climate, where the perspiration
is free and open. Doctor Boerhaave's opinion
convinces rae that ray English physicians judged
very judiciously, and acted very justly by me.
I should beg leave to send you, dear Madam,
a particular journal of our travels, were I able to
give the places I saw their proper beauties upon
paper, but here my pen fails, and I can only let
you into a very imperfect account. Our road
frora Dunkirk, (where we saw the ruins of one
of the finest fortifications in the world,) through
Flanders and Holland, was very easy and
pleasant ; in our way to Brussels, we had a raost
delightful journey along a smooth paved way, of
at least forty feet wide, and regularly planted on
each side, which frequently terminated in a
church or monastery. The country round about
us (according to the modern English taste) was as
beautiful a garden as can be imagined, (aUovring
for the want of water.) Brussels is very agree-

LADY SUNDON. 347
ably situated on a little rising ground ; the houses
are generally large, built of stone and brick, and
in a very ancient taste. The principal is the
town-house, where the States of Brabant assemble.
The rooras are very richly furnished, but chiefly
reraarkable for the tapestry, which is most beau
tiful ; the colours are so Uvely and so well shaded,
and the work is so compact and close, that you
would at first sight say it is very good painting.
The Emperor's sister, who is Governess of that
part of Flanders, is reckoned to keep a Court in
as much splendour as the income of her small
territory will adrait of The raost entertaining
way of ttavelling (in my opinion) is by the canals
in Holland ; you m^y write and read with the same
ease in the barque as in your closet. On each
side of the bank are situated a vast nuraber of
pleasant neat country-boxes and gardens. The
Hague has a very different face frora the rest of
the towns of Holland. There is an appearance
of politeness in the people, as well as in their
buildings. It is not easy to iraagine the exces
sive neatness of their streets and houses, but their
churches (alone) stand neglected and dirty.
How different are those churches to the Roman-
catholic churches ! many of which (in my opi
nion) cannot be exceeded by huraan art. We
were led to the Spa (the four last days) through
the most dreary country I ever saw. I was often
imraoderately fi-ightened, and sometimes forced
to alight out of my beriin, to avoid the thi-eaten-

348 MEMOIRS OF
ing danger of most terrible precipices, ^ou may
imagine, Madam, I was a gi-eat deal fatigued, and
not sufficiently recovered to feel the honours (ac
cording to the custom of this place) which I raet
with. The very next day after I arrived, and for se
veral succeeding days, I was eraployed, from two till
seven in the afternoon, in receiving visits, frora the
gentlemen as well as ladies, from people known
and i^eople unknown ; amongst the rest are a vast
many English, as well as Scotch : the Scotch seera
to endeavour to outvie each other in their civility
to me. I would send you a list of the names of the
company that is here, were not the particulars
more tedious than entertaining ; besides, the prints
inform you. The situation of this place is
romantic and wild, but the most detestable little
village I ever saw. The regimen everybody keeps
that drinks the waters, I fancy you will not envy.
We rise at five in the raorning, drink the waters
three miles frora the village, and starve with the
cold ; reading and writing is prohibited, (so that
what I am doing is absolutely against directions.)
One must not sleep, though the effects of the
waters are such as make it hardly possible to
avoid it ; if one does sleep, it is a chance if ever
one wakes. At dinner, we are to eat nothing but
roast meat, as di-y as a stick ; at supper, a little
weak broth, with bread pretty thick ; go to bed
at nine ; dine at twelve, sup at seven. Thus us
poor mortals breathe, for living it is not. Think
ing, too, is debaned ; so that, however incoherent

LADY SUNDON. 349
this letter is, or tedious, as a water-drinker (I
hope) not to be blamed. If you do not dislike
the study of philosophy too much, dear Madam,
encourage rae sometimes to write to you, by
letting me have the honour of hearing from you.
I beg leave to offer my compliments to Mr.
Clayton. My little girl is very well. I ara, (ray-
dear cousin Clayton,) with the raost real and
unaffected fiiendship. Madam,
Your most humble, most affectionate,
and most obedient servant,
S. Strangways Horner.
The y-ouiig lady referred to by the Duke of
Dorset as a suitable wife for Lord Middlesex, is
mentioned in the following letter : —
MRS. STRANGWAYS HORNER TO LADY SUNDON.
London, July 21.
Dear Madam,
I received by the last post the honour of
yom- letter, without a date ; it had gone to Paris
and back again, before it came to my hands. I
was, when I wrote last, just as your Ladyship
expressed it, a little angry ^yith you, and but
a little, I do assure your Ladyship ; nor did the
least jot of that little remain, after I found the
friendly inanner in which you treated my frieudly
resentment. I must own, too, that I with pleasure
hear y-ou had been so very kind to me in dis
course, that you might well be excused writing ;

350 MEMOIRS OF
and your goodness in justifying, on every occa
sion, my misrepresented actions ought to make
anything I raight have looked upon as neglect to
be entirely forgot, and should never, nor shall
ever, be itself forgot. I cannot doubt but that it
is to you, dear Madara, that I ara obliged for the
exceedingly gracious reception I met with last
Thursday fi-ora the Queen. I asked Lord Hervey,
if my daughter might come in a coat. lie brought
me word from the Queen, that though that was
not usual, yet her Majesty would, in consideration,
she was pleased to say, of her regard for me, see
my daughter so, whom I accordingly carried with
rae, having first, however, paid the tribute of a
(|uarrel with Mr. Horner for this honour. All I
can tell your Ladyship of hira is, that he is just
the same iiiiui he ever was ; and in the morning
will marry his daughter immediately ; at night,
will not many her till she is between twenty and
thirty. My constant and steady purpose is to
close in with any match he will approve of likely
to make her happy, and to wait with patience till
such a teraper of raind shall, among the great
variety, happen to appear. One thing, and but
one thing, I am happier than I could expect in,
which is, that he is much as can be against two
or three matches, some one of which I greatly
feared he would have been inclined to. I am
infinitely obUged to your Ladyship for your cha
racters of people, which, on my side, I have not
been idle in inquiring after. I will freely own to
y^ou, Madam, I like but very few, and among

LADY SUNDON. 351
those few none so well as the Duke of 'Leeds ;
but if he will not wait, that cannot be ; I raust see
what raore time will produce. I am in a good
deal of huny, as your Ladyship will naturally
suppose, as well as see, by the style and manner
of writing my letter. But I will not conclude
vrithout assuring your Ladyship that I am infi
nitely^ raore sensible of your goodness to rae than
I was of the little affront I thought I had received
frora you ; and as I have done nothing, so will I
never knowingly do anything, to forfeit that opi
nion and esteem with which you infinitely honour,
Madara,
Your Ladyship's raost obedient,
and most faithful hurable servant,
S. Strangways Horner.
I beg leave to offer my most sincere compli
ments to Lord Sundon. I go out of town next
Wednesday se'nnight; and lest I should not be
able to desire it by word of mouth, I will not
omit now begging your Ladyship to mention to
the Queen the great gratitude with which I am
sensible of the honours she did me and my
daughter. In the following coramunication, the faraUy
differences are again specified : —
MRS. STRANGWAYS HORNER TO LADY SUNDON.
Bath, Deceraber 15.
Dear Madam,
I am infinitely obliged to you for your kind
letter, and, as I told your Ladyship in a former

."552 MEMOIRS OF
letter, glad, as I always am, to hear froin you : I
shall never any raore complain, if I do not.
I have waited on Lady Pembroke twice, and do
not know how to be thankful enough for the
honoiu- and pleasure your Ladyship has procured
rae, in so valuable an acquaintance. I fancy,
Madam, you had prejudiced her rauch in my
favoiir, and I -wish she was not disappointed ; for
ray part, I ovvn I waited on her with grc^at par
tiality, but indeed I carae away with raore. There
is a gentle and obliging good nature api)ears
through her wiiole carriage, which is the most
amiable thing in the world. I fear she is a good
deal out of order in her health, and heartily wish
these waters may be of use to her. I hope, dear
Madara, ray Lady Pembroke will be very happy
ill her choice ; for Mr. Mordaunt* seems to be a
very good-conditioned man, and with strict attach
ment hers.
J have been to stay, and not to stay at ]3ath, till
I went to London, at least ten times since I came
hither. At present, the resolution is, that I am
to stay heie till the beginning of next month, and
then to go to London. It will be changed several
times again ; but I hope and believe it will end
hO, and that I shall therefore soon have the
honoiu- of seeing your Ladyship, and thanking
you for your many, many favours, but particularly
for those most essential and most friendly offices
which your Ladyship did me whilst abroad, which
* Lady Perabroke's second husband.

LADY SUNDON. .353
came to ray knowledge from Lord Hervey, though
not fi-ora his ow-n mouth. This wet winter agrees
ill with me ; and still worse are the consequences
of that temper, which is like bad weather, but,
worse than any, uncertain, sudden, unaccountable,
and for ever changing. He has been twice to see
me. One instance will show him better than any
description can. When he came to Bath, he told
the girl that the small-pox was at Mells ; that he
was glad she was not there, that a man was just
dead of it, and several children ill. It was wise
to tell her this ; but would your Ladyship imagine,
that about three days afterwards he would send
for her to dine there, and to return to Bath at
night ? I desired him, in as obliging a letter as I
could write, to name the day, and begged him to
take care that she raight converse with nobody of
the village, in which his house stands. He, upon
this, writes me a most harsh, unreasonable, angry
letter. His daughter, he found, was not to stay
there at night. Could not he take as good care
of her in everything as I, &c., and ordered her to
come on Tuesday, and he would bring her to
Bath on Wednesday. I wrote him word, it was
his own desfre that she shoidd corae back at
night, and that this was the first time I heard he
desired she should lie there. He knew and had
told me hiraself the reasons against it, but I sub
mitted : so she went on Tuesday to Mells. He
did not see her half an hour the whole day, and
returned with her on Wednesday to Bath. Re-
VOL. II. A A

354 MEMOIRS OF
fleet, deai-est Madara, how many things one must
wish altered in a mind capable of such an un
accountable address, and how often my spirits,
which are universally disordered, must be hunied
and shocked. It is terrible, because unavoidable
by any method, though ever so troublesorae, that
can be taken. Your Ladyship will guess I suf
fered whilst the girl was at Mells, and till she
was out of danger, as, I thank God, she now is, of
haring taken the small-pox, which indeed I should
not have been in so much pain about, if he had
not frightened her with it beforehand. As to
letters wrote to me when with him, he never
opened any, nor twice in his life asked to see one ;
so your Ladyship may write very safely at any time.
I beg my hurable service to Lord Sundon, who
I hope is in very good health. My daughter is
perfectly well, and, I flatter rayself, improves
almost as much as she diverts herself here. I
am not able to go to the rooms ; but Mrs. Digby,
who is -with me, is so good as to dedicate her
whole time to the care of her there ; and I hope
seeing so rauch of what is called entertainment
now will make her less eager for public places
when she is first married. I am, dear Madara,
with the truest sense of the great value of your
friendship. Your Ladyship's most affectionate,
and most faithful humble servant,
S. S. Horner.
I beg my service to honest Mr. Duck.

LADY SUNDON. 355
Here the lady shows a little of her " spirit," as
she terms it. It is not at all improbable but that
there were mutual injuries and faults.
MRS. STRANGWAYS HORNER TO LADY SUNDON.
London, July 31.
Dear Madam,
I most sincerely wish I could accept of your
Ladyship's kind invitation, but I have proposed
it to Mr. Horner in vain ; he is impatient to take
me vrith hira into the country ; he gives me leave
to go directly to Melbury, instead of Mells, and
we set out next Monday. Thus are all my hopes
of seeing you, dear Madam, tUl January or Febru
ary next, quite cut off. I would give anything for
a conversation with your Ladyship, as well for the
use as the pleasure of it, for I am perplexed.
Mr. Horner has the oddest intention now, which
is, not to marry his daughter but to somebody that
will live in the house with him ; but I have the
comfort in this, as in many other things I hear, to
know that his resolutions are seldom lasting.
My daughter is very vyell ; I have had a pro
posal for her, which I longed to communicate to
your Ladyship, but not by the post, and which I
have put off. What and who she will be, I ara
impatient till I know, lest I should die, and she
be undone. I beg ray most humble service to
Lord Sundon.
I have had several people dine with me since
Mr. Horner came, who had been very wrong, and
A a2

356 memoirs of
unprovokedly, nay ungratefully so towards ine, in
my absence, as in telling him I should never
come back, and many other insinuations, which I
made no scruple of owning I had heard, and
treated them and the reports in, I believe, a very
proper inanner, but such a one as astonished
thera ; by which, dear Madam, you will see my
spirit does not yet fail me, nor will it, if ill health
do not conspire with iny other misfortunes.
Adieu, dear IMadani. I shall be very glad to hear
fi-ora your Ladyship, but will never take anything
ill of you again.
I ara, dearest Madara, with the greatest esteera.
Your Ladyship's most sincere,
and raost affectionate humble servant,
S. Strangways Horner.
Since I wrote this I hear Lady Caroline Darcy
has declared her affection to Lord Jedburgh, and
consequently that she can no longer receive pro
posals from the Duke of Leeds. This may make
his Grace inclined to wait a little.
The suitor whom Miss Horner ultimately pre
ferred was Stephen Fox, of Redlynch, Somerset,
first Lord Ilchester, brother of Henry, first Lord
Holland, and son of the celebrated Sir Stephen
Fox, the politician of four reigns — those of
Charles the Second, .lames the Second, William
and Mary, and Anne. Stephen Fox adopted, on
his marriage, the narae and arras of Strangways
in addition to his own. Miss Horner was heiress

LADY SUNDON. 357
to the estates of her brother, Thonias Strang
ways, Esq.
MRS. strangways HORNER TO LADY SUNDON.
Melbury, July 24.
Madam,
I give your Ladyship a thousand thanks for
the honour of your letter, by which I am very glad
to be inforraed you are in Bedfordshire, both be
cause I know you like being there, and because I
hope it will contribute to your health, which, with
everything else you can desire, I am obliged and
inclined to wish your Ladyship, and do most
heartUy and raost sincerely.
Mr. Horner was at Stinsford ; he had corae
down into the country in extreme good humour,
pleased, and bidding everybody he raet (to the
surprise of everybody he met) wish him joy of
what had happened ; but before I came the moon
had changed, and the case was much altered vrith
him. I went to Stinsford, and much did I go
through there, but at last got him to come to Mel
bury ; for that he would never be under the same
roof with Mrs. Fox, was the resolution he had
then taken. However, he came there, and stayed
a day, and then went to Mells in good humour,
where he now is, and where I shall go to him to
morrow ; but what humour I shall find him in,
neither you, dearest Madam, nor I know, nor he
himself; and this uncertainty of temper is his
true character and greatest raisfortune, and I am

358 MEJIOIRS OF
sure he does not mean nor intend half the un
easiness this necessarily gives to everybody that
belongs to him, nor is it possible, but from expe
rience, to know how much that is, nor till my
spirits grew weaker did I know myself how bad it
was ; but never to know for two hours together
what wiU please or displease, puts one in a con
tinual fright, and there is no such thing as being
upon one's guai-d, for nobody can tell on which
side the danger is.
I hope Amigone vrill obey your Ladyship's
obliging orders, and gi-atify me in raaking it ex
tteraely like ;* I do assure you, dear Madam, I
esteem it as a very pleasing mark of fiiendship,
and beg leave to assure your Ladyship, that you
cannot bestow any mark of yours where it will
be more truly and sincerely valued than by, dear
est ]Madam, her who is, with the gi-eatest esteem
and truth, Your Ladyship's
most obedient and most faithful
hurable servant,
S. Strangways Horner.
There is every reason to believe, from what
ensues, that Miss Horner made what is called a
good raatch; indeed, in a subsequent communica
tion, Mrs. Homer is eloquent in praise of her son-
in-law. * This evidently refers to a portrait of Lady Sundon, which
was being painted for Mrs. Horner.

LADY SUNDON. 359
MRS. STRANGWAYS HORNER TO LADY SUNDON.
Melbury, September 4.
Dear Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obliging letter found
me at Redlynch, very happy, not only because
I was there, but likewise because I was corae
from Mells ; for the Master of Redlynch could
not be in humour more engaging than what I left
his father-in-law in^ had been sour. I was very
welcome to Mells, he said, but my daughter must
not come : he would never raore be under the same
roof with her; and very cross, nay, barbarously
so, he was to her, threatening- her with danger
from the sraall-pox being in the rillage, raost
brutally ; however, we jogged on for about ten
days, when Mr. Fox, haring first asked and ob
tained permission, came to see us ; and then the
bells rung for him, which terrible and iraportant
accident prevented Mr. Horner frora coraing
home ; and he went ten miles off, and stayed three
days, out of humour. The oddness of his be
haviour to the gfr-l, together with a thousand
strange whimsical occasions of ill humour, joined
to ray ill health, which they conttibute to cause,
made me, indeed, very miserable till I came to
Redlynch, and then I was like a poor, jaded pack-
horse, that is come to his journey's end. First, I
rested, then gi-ew easy, and soon, quite cheerful ;
nor is my load yet upon my back again, for I am
at Melbury, with Mrs. Fox only, who is, and I

.360 memoirs of
hope will ever be, yom- Ladyship's most devoted
servant. I ara sure she will, if she has any regard,
either to the advice or example of her mother, or
has any gratitude for obligations that are conferred
on me.
If Lady Hervey is as agreeable as my Lord, as,
by the little acquaintance I have the honour to
have with her, I have no reason to doubt she is,
your Ladyship will be very- agreeably accom
panied at Sundon, and I hope will give me leave,
to beg you would offer her my compliments. I
found Lord Hervey at Redlynch, and think him
extreraely both good-natured and well-bred, and
those two things, taking away all the tenor and
awe of his superior understanding, raade rae like
him exceedingly.
Mr. Fox went into Wiltshire a-shooting, and I
came here last Wednesday. Every time I see
Mr. Fox, I am better pleased with him for a son-
in-law. If I quarrel with him about anything, it
will be about your Ladyship's picture, which he
says you told hira you had promised his wife. I
say he mistook, and that you promised it to me,
and not to her; and, notwithstanding all the regard
which I know he has for your Ladyship and all
ray kindness to hira, I cannot give up this point
to hira, but beg by your next, to have it iu my
power to convince him that he is in a mistake.
I hope, indeed, dearest Madam, that I shall be
enough my own mistress to accept, one of these
days, of your Ladyship's invitation to Sundon ;

LADY SUNDON. 361
I am sure it will be so great pleasure to me to-
spend some time there with you, that I cannot
easily imagine anything that would raake rae
more happy. In the meantime, dear Madara,
beUeve me most obliged to your Ladyship for
wishing it, and too rauch yours, to be quite satis
fied with a letter from you which says nothing of
your health, especiaUy as Mr. Fox told me Lord
Sundon said he had not been at all well of late.
I beg my sincere compliments to his Lordship,
and that, as you have placed me among youi-
obliged, you will always number rae araong the
most gratefiil of your Ladyship's fiiends,
. And raost obedient humble servant,
S. Strangways Horner.
The foUowing- letter is fi-om the nephew of Lord
Torrington, and contains a proof of the bitter
spirit of party existing in the early part of the
reign of George the First — during the quarrels
between the King and heir apparent.
JOHN BOTELER, esq. TO LADY SUNDON.
Clarges-street, Tuesday morn.
Madam, I am persuaded your Ladyship will not be a
little surprised at the reading these lines, fi-om
a person wholly unknown to you : a misfortune I
am endeavouring to repair, and, fi-om above thirty
years' knowiedge of men, and things of this conse
quence, choose no canal, no friend, or trusty
servant, but with my own hands do presume to

362 MEMOIRS OF
deliver my own business to your Ladyship;
and as the pm-port of it is to make your Ladyship
my fiiend, and beg yom- pattonage and protec
tion, I am necessarUy obliged to say soraetbing
of myself, a subject of all things one would other-
vrise avoid, in order to induce yom- Ladyship's
generosity and good nature to pity and assist me.
My lot of life was to be born of an ancient and
good famUy in the county of Hertford, which gave
me the acquaintance and, I raay say, stiict fi-iend-
ship of the famous Chancellor Cowper, and his
brother, the Judge ; these induced me to come
early into the interests of this truly Royal faraily
now reigning, and by their raeans to appear a
candidate for the Borough of Hertford, in the first
parUament of the late Eing ; in this I succeeded,
— turned out ofthe House a gentleman well known
to be deeply engaged in the designs of a Ministry
quite opposite to this present happy establish
raent, and never failed concurring in evei-ything
that could fix and rivet it here for ever, during the
whole seven years I sat amongst them.
^ladam, this firmness of mine had been long
ago royaUy answered, but for the fatal divisions*
you yourself was too near the view of to want an
explanation : it is enough to say they were fatal to
me, and lamented by all good men. Well-wishers
to both sides stood divided ; the Chancellor left the
seals, and ray uncle. Lord Torrington, kept in the
Treasury. The Chancellor sent for rae into the
"* The quarrel between George the First and his eldest son.

LADY SUNDON. 363
House of Lords, and, under the clock, told me he
had orders from the then Prince of Wales to tell me
he would have rae about his person, and raake me
a Groom of his Bedchamber. Lord Torrington
consented, and the offer was accepted ; but oh !
Madara, the next day I was forced to undo all :
commanded by my uncle to retract what I had
done, and so refuse this Royal favour. My uncle
died soon after ; and though he left me a legacy
of 4000/., besides frequent present helps in his
lifetime, yet my refusal was no ways balanced,
but fell vastly short of my hopes and expectations.
Lord Stanhope did, indeed, do me a short-lived
favour; he made me aCommissioner of theEquiva-
lent — a coraraission of small duration. The South
Sea succeeded, undid me and many others, and
from thence I made my retreat into foreign parts,
stayed abroad ten years, and retumed home in
the year 1732, was chosen into the present Parlia
ment, fairly chosen in opposition to Lord Lime
rick, but from a monsti-oiis junction of parties,
as well as private family interests, lost, by petition,
on a point above twenty years before determined
in ray favour : this was a blow I could not shun ;
never dreaming of an exception to that qualifi
cation, so long before allowed me. But, Madam,
I am running unawares into a tedious prolixity I
would avoid, and, to shorten it, must beg leave to
refer yom ladyship to the enclosed prmted case.
Should the story of it move yoiu- Ladyship to
compassion, but want of knowing me be an

364 MEMOIRS OF
obstacle to your favour, I dare refer your Lady
ship to my good Lord Sundon himself for my
character; nor can it be wondered that, under
the loss of such fiiends, — my seat in Parliament
shamefidly and neglectfully given up by those 1
judged in interest bound to support me, and so of
coiu-se the door of grace and favour shut against
me by the Grand Keeper of it — I should cast
about for new ones, and endeavour, in your Lady
ship, to gain a fiiend that can carry my story to
their Majesties themselves, which, if your Lady
ship shoidd deign to do, there* is no sentiments of
private gratitude that could ever pretend to out
strip mine, and for any outward or other more
sensible marks of it, I should think myself safest
in your Ladyship's own directions how to act.
As I trust ray actions, Madara, with neither
man or woraan on this most weighty occasion, so
I flatter myself your Ladyship is too good and
generous to take advantage of any failings in an
unfortunate but honest gentleman.
We have all our errors, from a principle in
nature ; but wilfully to offend is vicious, and a sin
against nature, which I profess myself, in this step,
purely free from, so that if I can but clear myself
to your Ladyship of any designed offence, I may
hope for pardon, and at the same time sue for a
place in your Ladyship's esteem and favour, which
* The grammar, bad as it is in a man of family, is here
preserved.

LADY SUNDON. 365
I shall make it my glory to have aspired to, more
than any other. I am. Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obedient
and most humble servant,
John Boteler.
The writer of the following graceful comrauni
cation was Abigail, youngest daughter of Robert
Harley, Earl of Oxford, Lord High Treasurer,
and wife of George Henry, seventh Earl of
Kinnoul. The family of whom she writes were
worthy of her affection. Thoraas, Lord Dupplin,
the eldest son, succeeded to the Earldora ; his
brother Robert, entering the church, raised him
self fr-om one dignity to another, till, in 1761, he
was elevated frora the see of Salisbury to the
Ai-chbishopric of York ; and Edward, another
brother, becarae Minister-plenipotentiary to the
Court of Lisbon'.
the countess of kinnoul to lady sundon.
Brodsworth, June 2, 1735.
Madam,
The great obligations I lie under to your
Ladyship has brought on you the trouble of this
letter, to beg your acceptance of ray hurable
thanks for your favour to Lord Dupplin. It is
easier for you to imagine than for me to find
words to express as I ought the grateful sense I

366 MEMOIRS OF
have of your kindness. Should I write what my
affection dictates to me, 1 should tire your Lady^-
ship with my son's praises ; but, as you are ac
quainted with him, I dare say you will allow he
is deserving; though I have been in other respects
very unfortunate, }-et in my children I have a
gi-eat blessing that they are all so good and dutiful.
It is with gratitude I reflect on the Queen's
kindness to Lord Dupplin ; her Majesty's usual
good nature and benevolent disposition encourage
me to hope that I shall be relieved out of my very
unhappy circumstances, and I beg, Madam, that
you will continue your goodness to my distressed
family. I congratulate your Ladyship on the late
honours conferred on you, and beg leave to assure
you that I am, with great esteem and regard.
Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obliged,
humble servant,
A. Kinnoul.
Lady Sundon was often obliged to communi
cate with members of the Government, in behalf
of such of her applicants for whom she was
desfrous of obtaining posts in their offices, and
most of them were, like Lord Lymington, well
incUned to comply with her wishes. His Lordship
evidently here advises her as to the proper course
to pursue, to obtain some grant which she required
in favour of one of her numerous conespondents.

LADY SUNDON. 367
LORD LYMINGTON TO LADY SUNDON.
Hursbourne, June 19, 1735.
Madam,
I return my best fiiend my sincerest thanks
for aU her goodness to me ; and though you are
so good as to corapUment me upon my under
standing Treasury affairs, yet I own myself at a
loss to know whether a memorial should not be
drawn up to the Queen, or the Treasui-y, or whe
ther the stating the plain matters of fact vrithout
any memorial, wiU do ; so I beg my Lord's orders
thereupon. Dr. Clarke set out on Tuesday last
for Bristol ; your venison went on Tuesday, which
I hope you have received. All here beg their
compliments to my Lord Sundon and yourself,
but no one upon earth can be with greater zeal
than rayself, Madam,
Your Ladyship's most faithful,
humble servant,
Lymington.
The next letter is extremely characteristic of
Lady Pomfret.
COUNTESS OF POMFRET TO LADY SUNDON.
Easton, July 11, 1735.
Dear Madam,
The sight of your letter did, what I believed
nothing could do — it made me think with pleasure
of the county of Middlesex. I am sony you had

:j(i8 memoirs of
so bad a reason for staying so long in it ; and take
it extremely kind the letting me know that you
are better, for I do assure you, dear IMadaiu, your
good health and good opinion are two things I
desire -with all the sincerity imaginable.
Thinking you at Sundon, ray Lord Pomfi-et had
ordered his keeper to attend you -«ith a buck ; and
I was just going to -wi-ite by him, when I received
the account of your being stUl in London. I hope
you are now arrived at Bedfordshire in safety, and
tiiat good weather wUl -welcome you home ; the
want of which is (thank God) the greatest \yant I
feel — for myself, I mean, who find indolence grow
so fast and so strong upon me, that if I did not
remember it was ray duty to try to make my
life useful to those that I have been a cause to
raake live, I am sure no views, nor (if that
was possible) even certainties, of whatever is
reckoned most desirable in the great world could
terapt me to exchange for them the pleasure I
enjoy, in thinking and acting without fear of mis
interpretation, or any resttaint but what arises
from a reasonable reflection of what I ought or
ought not to do, so far as God has given me reason
to judge : and if I cannot have the company of
those few, those very few, I would select from the
rest of huraan kind, I am also excused from the
necessary complaisance of seeming pleased where
I secretly contemn, which I have heard you often
laraent, as all generous rainds must, who, though
they keep their integrity in those circumstances.

LADY SUNDON. 369
are sometiines forced to sacrifice their happiness ;
but, however true all this may be, since fortune,
or prudence, or something or other, obliges our
return, methinks I hear you say, — it is wisest to
make the best of it. So be it, I agree ; and am
always ready to subrait to your judgraent, pro
vided it is really your own, which, take my word
for it, is the best inforraation you can raeet with
on the tenestrial globe ; and to that I refer you,
for truth, vrith which I remain,
Dear Lady Sundon,
Your Ladyship's most devoted,
and faithful humble servant,
H. Pomfret.
By the ensuing communication. Lord Kinnoul
appears to have been the cause of much distress
to his nearest connexions : probably owing to the
Jacobite tendencies of his family.
the countess of oxford to lady sundon.
Dover-street, Sept. 6, 1735.
Dear Madam,
The experience I have had of your Lady
ship's friendship will, I hope, plead some excuse
for the enclosed. I am so thoroughly affected
with the unmerited misfortunes of that oppressed
famUy, I encouraged Lord Dupplin to write their
deplorable case, and I hope you wiU think our
request moderate, and I believe you know me.
enough to be sufficiently convinced that if my cir-
VOL. II. B B

370 memoirs of
cumstances could have permitted my continuing
to relieve them, I would have chosen that method
sooner than to have raade myself a petitioner; I
did take an opportunity to thank the Queen for
her compassion in the most grateful manner I was
capable of
The Duke of Portland, who has every amiable
quality that can be wished, has spoken in very
moving terms to tiie Queen, which, as such
actions ought, obliges me in so strong a degree,
I own makes me unwilling to tire him with
repetitions upon the sarae unhappy subject. I
raust add, the letters to Sir Robert and the Duke
of Newcastle are sent, and the Duke of Portland,
of his own accord, has offered to back them ; and
I hope, if you pursue your kind endeavours, we
may see the good effects soon, not knowing how
shortly Lord Kinnoul, from whom all these gi-eat
disti-esses proceed, may come.
After what I write to you, I own I ought to
beg a great raany pardons for my importunity to
you, and beg you will believe I shall continue
ever the most grateful remembrance of your
favours, I being, dear Lady Sundon,
Your Ladyship's
faithful friend and obedient servant,
H. Cavendish Holles Oxford.
Lady Kinnoul's case appears to have merited
the deepest commiseration.

LADY SUNDON. 371
THE COUNTESS OF KINNOUL TO LADY SUNDON.
Brodsworth, September 8, 1735.
Madam,
The favour of your Ladyship's letter I received
¦with a great deal of pleasure, and beg yom- ac
ceptance of ray thanks for it. The obliging-
manner in which your Ladyship expresses your
compassion for my misfortunes, and your gene
rous concern for me and my faraily, gives me a
lively idea of your goodness, and encourages me
to hope for the continuance of your good offices
at this time.
I have six daughters, all grown up, except one,
and not wherewith to maintain them; what the
consequence of my Lord's coming home will
be to them and to me, God knows, unless their
Majesties pity my condition; which their good
ness, and the earnest solicitations of my fiiends,
give me some reason to hope that they wUl do.
The Queen is a most tender mother of many
children; she knows how a mother can love, and
consequently what a mother raay suffer.
Though dear Lady^ Oxford has been on all
occasions an unwearied fiiend to rae and raine,
she could not give a greater instance of her friend
ship or judgment than in comraunicating my
unfortunate case to your Ladyship; and I per
suade myself that your good nature, considering
my circumstances, and what I feel for ray chil
dren, will pardon the trouble that I give you.
B B 2

372 MEMOIRS OF
It is a great comfort to rae that your Ladyship
thinks Lord Dupplin deserving of your favours,
which he always gratefully acknowledges. Lie
has spent a raonth with mc, but goes for London
in a day or two. Your Ladyship will do me tlu-
justice to believe that I am, w-ith great respect
and esteem. Madam, Your Ladyship's most obliged,
humble servant,
A. Kinnoul.
The death of the Hon. Thomas Ferraor pro
duced the following letter fi-om his mother, the
Countess of Pomfret. The mixture of maternal
grief and w-oiidliness is very amusing.
THE countess OF POMFRET TO LADY SUNDON.
London, September 15, 1735.
The extreme kind and obliging concern dear
Lady Sundon has expressed on my late misfor
tune, I have now in my power to enjoy, though
at all tiines I was sensible of it, even when unfit
to return my acknowledgments in this manner.
I will not pretend to describe to you what either
his father or myself have suffered: it was the
hand of God, and we have nothing to do but to
subrait, and be thankful for that Providence that
so wonderfuUy preserved his life and senses;
though I am thoroughly convinced, and thought
so at the time, that if we were to lose hira, it was
best it should be so. But to all huraan appear-

LADY SUNDON. 373
ance, a boy of thirteen, that had in every respect
answered whatever could be wished, dying in
such a way, was a miserable accident, and what
Christianity itself raust have allowed one to
lament the remainder of one's life. " May his that
God has spared be guided by true wisdom ! It is
impossible for any behaviour to be raore gracious
than that of the Queen's on this occasion, who has
raade it quite fashionable to be concerned at it,
and indeed all my friends, and even acquaintance,
have shown the greatest kindness on this subject.
Pardon, dear Madam, that I have said so much
of this affair, but really^ I can think of nothing-
else, except to assure your Ladyship that I am,
with sincere regard. Dear Madara,
Your most faithful fiiend
and obedient servant,
H. Pomfret.
In the short space of a week, the world seems
alraost totally to have superseded the deceased
son in Lady Porafret's reraerabrance.
the countess of pomfret to lady sundon.
London, September 23, 1735.
DE.4.R Madam,
By this tirae I believe your Ladyship has
received a letter I -wi-ote before yom- last obliging
one carae to me, in which I returned ray Lord
Porafret's thanks and ray own, for your Lady-

374 MEMOIRS OF
ship's and Lord Sundon's kind inquiry after my
son, who, I thank God, is now in so good a way,
that I intend to go to Easton, and bring my
family to town ; my stay^ there will be very short,
bemg to set out on Monday, and be back by
Saturday. I raentioned to you, in my last, the
graciousness of the whole Royal Family, on Lord
Lempster's account; one of thera now has an
affliction of her own, I raean Princess Araelia,
whose concern for the Duchess of Bedford is so
great as to affect her health. Without being
acquainted with the Duchess, I cannot help giiev-
ing for her case : one that had, and seeraed to
know she had, all that this world could give — to
be snatched away in the middle, or rather begin
ning of life, is doubtless a pitiable reflection, and,
if rightly applied, a useful one too. I have lately
been so shocked that I natui-ally fall into these
subjects, and may say, as Cfr-ce did to Ulysses —
" The cause removed, habitual griefs remain,
And the soul saddens with the use of pain."
But that I may aim at last at something gay^, I
wUl tell you (though, perhaps, it is no news to
you) that the Duchess of Richmond and Lady
Hervey are returned from France, and, to the
great disappointraent of the Drawiiig-room, ap
peared there quite English : they appeai-ed both
in good spirits, which I hope signifies they were
weU entertained there, and well satisfied to come
home ; but I have not heard any particulars yet,

LADY SUNDON. 375
and indeed, till within this week, I have lived so
much alone, that I know very little out of myself,
and it is from the vei-y centre of that little world
that I find myself Dear Lady Sundon's
most devoted friend and servant,
H. Pomfret.
Lady Pomfret retired from Court at the death
of the Queen in 1737, and shortly afterwards went
abroad with her family. During her stay in
Italy, she met Horace Walpole, who has preserved
sorae curious recollections of her.
The " Lady Catherine" refened to in the next
note was, probably, the daughter of Lady Salis
bury, who married, 15th February, 1737, John,
second Earl of Egmont.
the COUNTESS OF OXFORD TO LADY SUNDON.
Dover-street, October 24, 1735.
I am uneasy to interrupt your Ladyship before
Saturday, that I intend to wait on you, but receiv
ing Lady Salisbury's letter to-day, I would -write
her an answer before I go out to-monow, and I
doubt I must defer waiting on Lady Catherine to
Court till the birthday, and then get her pre
sented. I hope I shall not be severely censured
for doing an awkward thing. If you advise me to
pay my duty to the King upon his arrival, I am
wiUing to do it on Tuesday.
I have had an answer from Sir Robert to my

376 MEMOIRS OF
message, winch does not entirely divest me of
hopes, and yet gives me pain, and prevents my
blaming his conduct; you shall be troubled with
a full account when we meet, and I hope then to
find you have no reraains of your indisposition.
I assm-e you, if wishes for your happiness could
have effect, you have thera in the most earnest
and sincere manner offered by,
Dear Madam,
Yom- Ladyship's very much obliged,
faithful friend and hurable servant,
H. Cavendish Holles Oxford.
Twelve o'clock to-morrow is soon enough for
an answer.
Lord Wilraington was not less obliging than
other merabers of the Administration. It appears
that Lady Sundon had required him to forward a
communication to the Duke of Dorset, then Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland, containing, probably, some
request it was desirable should not be made
public. He held many important offices under
the House of Hanover : was Lord Privy Seal,
and President of the Council, and, when Sir
Spencer Compton, had been Speaker of the House
of Commons. He died unmarried in 1743.
LORD WILMINGTON TO LADY SUNDON.
February 15, 1735-6.
Madam, I defened acknowledging the honour of
your Ladyship's letter till I could at the same

LADY SUNDON. 377
time acquaint you that I had an opportunity
of conveying if to the Duke of Dorset, without
exposing it to the curiosity of postmasters on
the road ; and finding that the Bills which carae
from Ireland by the last transraiss will not be
ready to be sent back by the Duke's messenger,
who attends here to cany thera over, till the
beginning of next week, I have delivered your
letter to Mr. Jevers, an Irish gentleraan, who
sets out this morning for Dublin, with a private
Bill of his own, which he came over hither to
take care of, who has promised to deliver it to
his Grace. I am, with the truest respect.
Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obedient
and most humble servant,
Wilmington.
We introduce the Duchess of Bolton once
more, to add her testimony to the many voluntary
witnesses in favour of the generous disposition of
the Queen's Mistress of the Robes.
the duchess of BOLTON TO LADY SUNDON.
Egham, in Surrey, near Staines,
June 17, 1736.
Dear Madam,
As I had your perraission, so I do not doubt
but I shaU have your pardon for giving you the
trouble to acquaint your Ladyship that I wrote to
Mr. Pepper, to let him know how good you were

378 memoirs of
in giring yom- interest to put out one of his chil
dren, and to inquire which of them was fittest for
that purpose. I have received his answer, and he
begs that his youngest daughter, Lucy Pejiper,
may have the benefit of the bounty money ; and if
her parents may recommend a mistress for her,
they desfre she may be bound apprentice to Mrs.
Mary Prior, at Odiham, in Harapshire. Madam,
I vrish, before I conclude, I were able to find
words that could sufficiently express my admira
tion of your Ladyslup's amiable disposition to do
good whenever any proper opportunity is offered
to you for it, which must make you the object of
the highest esteem and love to all who have the
honour and happiness to be acquainted with you,
but especially to one who has had so much
delight and pleasure in your conversation, and
has received so many favours fi-om you in such
an obliging manner, as
Madam,
Your Ladyship's most obedient
humble servant, A. BoLTON.

The remarkable reign of Lady Sundon ended
vrith the decease of Queen Caroline. The retire
ment, however, of Lady Suffolk, preceded that of
her rival ; and in 1735, the favourite of George
the Second retired to Marble HUl, at Twicken
ham, and there she became acquainted -with

LADY SUNDON. 37^
Horace Walpole, who owed so much to her in
formation. Both single, both alone in the world,
and both mutually acquainted with different
raerabers of the houses of Vere and Dorset, they
soon became intimate. What a fireside of gossip
must theirs have been ! Lady Suffolk was ex
tteraely deaf, afld was more addicted to narrating
than to listening ; her memory was astonishingly
correct, and her Ustener was indulgent, and fond
of old anecdotes. " These evenings," Horace Wal
pole afterwards remarked, when, in his turn, he
became a chronicler, and thus kept up the chain
of traditional history, " were extremely^ agree
able." The influence of Lady Suffolk had been always
kept in subjection by the Queen's superior intellect,
and by her credit with the Minister. Except a
barony, a red ribband, and a good place for her
brother, Lady Suffolk could succeed but in a very
subordinate degree. She left the Court with a very
limited income, and was obUged to be economical,
although Marble Hill had been presented to her.
She married Mr. George Berkeley, on learing
Court, and outlived liim. How happy must she have
been to escape fi-om the disgraceful thraldom of
her vicious life, from the slavery of her attendance
on the Queen, and the mortifications she endured !
It is amusing to find Horace Walpole speaking of
the dignity of her behaviour.
Her endurance, not to say patronage of Lady
Suffolk, was the everlasting stain upon the cha-

.380 MEMOIRS OF
racter of Queen CaroUne. Nor were the dying
hours of her ^Majesty so enlightened by true reli
gion and benevolence as to efface some painful
irapressions of her motives and disposition, other
wise so laudable, nor to dispel the suspicions of
the cavillers, that prudence had more influence
than principle over her strong mind. She was cer
tainly an actress ; even her life was sacrificed to
appearances, and to the habitual effort to please
the King. She never refused a wish that his Ma
jesty expressed ; and every morning, at Richmond,
walked several hours with him, when she had the
gout, which she checked, by^ putting her foot into
cold water. Those exertions hastened her fate ;
her bulk was now considerable, and the pain
w-hich she raust have endured was exquisite ; yet
a simple operation raight have saved her exist
ence. Two persons only, besides Lady Sundon, were
in possession of the fatal secret of the Queen's
disease. These were, the King, and Madame
Mailborne, the Gerraan nurse. At last, the truth
was necessarily, but, when it was too late, divulged
to the faculty ; mortification ensued, and all hope
was abandoned. On her death-bed, Caroline re-
fiised to see her son, the Prince of Wales. She
sent him her blessing and forgiveness ; but, con
sidering the extrerae distress it would give the
King to be obliged to receive so impenitent a son,
she refused a personal interview — thus carrying-
disgraceful enmities with her to the grave. The

LADY SUNDON. 381
sight of a Royal family, united by ties of confidence,
in England, has, it is singular to reflect, been un
known since the days of Charles the First until
the present era. His eldest son had no children.
James the Second had no heir until a short tirae
before he fled to St. Germains. WUIiam was
childless. Anne lost her son, the Duke of
Gloucester, when a boy. George the First aud
George the Second were open foes ; and the same
feuds were revived between George the Second
and his eldest son. Nor did the two succeeding
reigns afford a happier instance of true confidence,
on the one hand, or filial reverence, on the other.
When Caroline was fast sinking. Archbishop
Potter went to her, to administer the last sacra
ment. Few persons were present ; but it soon
transpired that the poor Queen, her raind con
fused by her controversial readings, and influenced,
it is said, by Lady Sundon's want of orthodoxy-,
refused to receive the Supper of our Lord. The
Prelate retired ; and the people crowding around
him, inquired — " Has the Queen coraraunicated .? "
The Archbishop adroitly answered, " Her Majesty-
is in a most heavenly disposition ; " and thiis
evaded the question.
The alienation of the Queen from her eldest
son may have, perhaps, interfered with the cele
bration of that holy rite, no less than knotty points
of doctrine with which it had been wiser not to
intermeddle. Frederic is said to have shown,
very early, an aversion to his mother, who, how-

382 MEMOIRS OF
ever, endeavoured, though vainly, to prevent an
open ruptm-e between the Prince and his Royal
father. The Queen's deatii was the signal for a new
airival at the Court — that of the Countess of Yar-
raouth, formerly Madame de Walmoden. This
lady was venal and profligate, and was, therefore,
courted by the Ministry of that disgraceful era.
Even the daughters of the deceased Queen con
descended to play at cards with her, every night,
in corapany with the raost favoured officers of his
Majesty's household. Every Saturday, in sum
raer, Horace Walpole relates, the King carried
that uniform party, but without his daughters, to
dine at Richmond. They went in coaches and
six, in the raiddle of the day, with the heavy horse-
guards kicking up the dust before them, dined,
walked an hour in the garden, " returned in the
same dusty parade, and his Majesty fancied hira
self the most gallant and lively Prince in Europe."
Lady Sundon now sank into a total insignifi
cance. No more fawning letters fi-ora the Bishop of
Killala — no more tributes of adoration fi-om Baron
Wainwright — no more satirical chronicles from
Lord Hervey, are to be met with after the Queen's
death. All were silent — and silent is the chronicle
of her after-existence. Hers was peculiarly the
power behind the throne: the unacknowledged
keeper of the Queen's conscience, she has no place
in the page of history, although all patronage — from
the appointment of a dresser, to the promotion of

LADY SUNDON. 383
a Bishop — seeras to have been vested in her hands.
That she was singularly courteous, charitable, and
intelUgent, appears erident fi-om the many acts of
kindness, referred to in this correspondence, and
from the general tone of those who addressed her.
These letters afford a considerable insight into
the interior of a Court, possibly more interesting
in its annals to many persons than what Horace
Walpole calls " a magisterial detail of political
events." Lord Sundon died in 1752, and Lady
Sundon in January 1, 1742.
They left no issue, and their title, as weU as
Lady Sundon's merits, became extinct. " Of all
the rirtues," observes the cynic of the day, " Gra
titude has the shortest meraory." *
* Horace Walpole.

THE END.

T. C. Sayill, Printer, 4, Chandos-street, Covent-garden.

YALE UNIVERSITY

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