YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Bequest of WILLIAM LYON PHELPS YALE 1887 LETTERS OF HORACE WALPOLE MBS. PAGET TOTNBEE IX HENKY FROWDE, M.A. PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD LONDON, EDINBURGH NEW YORK ylurryi. oa feLaex/ue- .4,riA. /Da/~ffSf.>r,n, rc.->t,a.i-ri..rL '(1/ ,h?a.;j- &(?cnJs*j*e44/ 5%-cSc., THE LETTERS OF HORACE \VALPOLE in FOURTH EARL OF ORFORD CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED AND EDITED WITH NOTES AND INDICES BY MRS. PAGET TOYNBEE IN SIXTEEN VOLUMES WITH PORTRAITS AND FACSIMILES VOL. IX: 1774—1776 OXFORD AT THE CLARENDON PRESS MCMIV OXFORD PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS BY HORACE HART, M.A. PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY CONTENTS OF VOL. IX PAGES List of Portraits vi List of Letters in Volume IX vii-xii Letters 1540-1742 1-454 «3 LIST OF PORTRAITS Horace Walpole Frontispiece From plaque in Battersea enamel in South Kensington Museum. Facsimile of Letter of Horace Walpole to Madame du Deffand To face p. 130 Eev. William Mason . . . . . „ 178 From painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds in possession of Pembroke College, Cambridge. Elizabeth Berkeley, Baroness Craven . „ 331 From painting by G. Eomney in National Portrait Gallery. Robert Clive, first Baron Clive ... „ 400 From painting by N/. Dance in National Portrait Gallery. LIST OF LETTERS IN VOL. IX 1774. C 1540 May 28, 1774 . . Rev. William Cole . 1541 June 8, 1774 . . Sir Horace Mann 1542 June 14, 1774. . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1543f June 19, 1774. . Sir William Hamilton. 1544 June 23, 1774. . Hon. HenrySeymourConway 1545 July 10, 1774 . . Sir Horace Mann 1546 July 19, 1774 . . Eev. William Mason . 1547 July 21, 1774 . . Rev. William Cole . 1548 July 30, 1774 . . Countess of Upper Ossory 1549 Aug. 3, 1774 . . Sir Horace Mann 1550 Aug. 10, 1774. . George Augustus Selwyn 1551 Aug. 11, 1774. . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1552 Aug. 15, 1774. . Rev. William Cole . 1553 Aug. 18, 1774. . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1554 Aug. 23, 1774. . Rev. William Mason . 1555 Aug. 23, 1774. . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1556 Sept. 2, 1774 . . Sir Horace Mann 1557 Sept. 7, 1774 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1558 Sept. 14, 1774. . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1559 Sept. 16, 1774. . Rev. William Mason . 1560f Sept. 17, 1774. . John Fenn. 1561f Sept. 18, 1774. . Sir Horace Mann. 1562 Sept. 26, 1774. . John Craufurd .... 1563 Sept. 27, 1774. . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1564 Sept. 28,1774. . Hon. HenrySeymourConway 1565 Oct. 6, 1774 . . Sir Horace Mann 1566 Oct. 11, 1774 . . Rev. William Cole . 1567 [Oct. 1774] . . Rev. William Mason . 1568 Oct. 15, 1774 . . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1569 Oct. 16, 1774 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1570 Oct. 22, 1774 . . Sir Horace Mann 1571 Oct. 27, 1774 . . Countess of Upper Ossory .. 1572 Oct. 29, 1774 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1573 Nov. 7, 1774 . . Countess of Ailesbury . 143414351437 1439 1440 1441 14381442 1443 1444 1445 144614471448 14491450 1451 14521453 1455 14561457 14581459 1454 14601461 14621463 14641465 t Now printed for the first time. Vill List of Letters T 1574 157515761577 15781579 1580 1581 15821583+ 1584 15851586+ 1587 Nov. 11, 1774. Nov. 11, 1774 . Nov. 11, 1774 . Nov. 12, 1774 . Nov. 14, 1774 . Nov. 23, 1774. Nov. 24, 1774. Nov. 27, 1774. Dec. 15, 1774 . Dec. 23, 1774 . Dec. 26, 1774 . [Dec. 1774] . Ce 26 Dc§c. 1774 Dec. 31, 1774 . Sir Horace Mann Earl of Strafford. Isaac Reed Hon. HenrySeymourConway Countess of Upper Ossory . Countess of Upper Ossory . Sir Horace Mann Hon.HenrySeymourConway Hon. Henry Seymour Conway Sir Horace Mann. Hon. Henry Seymour Conway George Augustus Selwyn. Marquise du Deffand. Hon. Henry Seymour Conway C 146614672662 14681469 14701471 1472 14731474 1475 1588 1589 1590+15911592 15931594+ 1595+ 1596 Jan. 1, 1775 . Jan. 2, 1775 . Ce 4 Janv. 1775 Jan. 9, 1775 . Jan. 9, 1775 . Jan. 12, 1775 . Jan. 12, 1775 . Ce 13 Janv. 1775 Jan. 15, 1775 . 1597 Jan. 15, 1775 . 1598 Jan. 17, 1775 . 1599+ Ce 19 Janv. 1775 1600 Jan. 21, 1775 . 1601 160216031604+ 1605+ 1606 1607 1608 16091610 Jan. 22, 1775 . Jan. 24, 1775 . Jan. 25, 1775 . Ce 27 Janv. 1775 Ce 31 Janv. 1775 Feb. 1, 1775 . Feb. 15, 1775 . Feb. 18, 1775 . Feb. 28, 1775 . March 7, 1775 1775. Countess of Upper Ossory . 1476 John Craufurd .... 1477 Marquise du Deffand. Rev. William Cole . . . 1478 Sir Horace Mann . . . 1479 Countess of Upper Ossory . 1480 Earl of Hardwicke. Marquise du Deffand. Hon. Henry Seymour Conway and Countess of Ailesbury. 1481 Countess of Upper Ossory . 1482 Duke of Gloucester . . . 1483 Marquise du Deffand. Countess of Upper Ossory . -j... 11488 Hon.HenrySeymourConway 1485 Countess of Upper Ossory . 1486 Sir Horace Mann . . . 1487 Marquise du Deffand. Marquise du Deffand. Countess of Upper Ossory . 1489 Sir Horace Mann . . . 1490 Rev. William Mason . . 1491 Rev. William Mason . . 1492 Rev. William Mason . . 1493 + Now printed for the first time. List of Letters IX 1611 March 20, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1494 1612 April 3, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1495 1613 April 11, 1775 . Rev. William Cole . . 1496 1614 April 14, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1497 1615 April 17, 1775 . Sir Horace Mann 11498 ' ' 11499 1616 April 25, 1775 . Rev. William Cole . . 1500 1617 May 7, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . . 1501 1618 May 7, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1502 1619 May 17, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . . 1503 1620 May 27, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1504 1621 June 5, 1775 . Sir Horace Mann . 1505 1622 June 5, 1775 . Rev. William Cole . . 1506 1623 June 12 [1775] . Rev. William Mason . 1436 1624 June 14, 1775 Viscount Nuneham . . 1507 1625 June 23, 1775 Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1508 1626 July 6, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . . 1509 1627 July 7, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1510 1628 July 9, 1775 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Coi tway 1511 1629 July 10, 1775. . Rev. William Mason . . 1512 1630 July 18, 1775 . . Viscount Nuneham . . 1513 1631 July 23, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1514 1632 Aug. 3, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1515 1633 Aug. 3, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . . 1516 1634 Aug. 7, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1517 1635 Aug. 9, 1775 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Con way 1518 1636 Aug. 10, 1775 Countess of Upper Ossor ri5i9 y 11520 1637 Aug. 17, 1775 Countess of Ailesbury . . 1521 1638 Aug. 18, 1775 Countess of Upper Ossor j . 1522 1639 Aug. 20, 1775 Countess of Ailesbury . . 1523 1640 Aug. 23 [1775] . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1524 1641 Sept. 6, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1525 1642 Sept. 7, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . . 1526 1643 Sept. 8, 1775 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Coi iway 1527 1644 [Sept. 1775] . . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1531 1645 Sept. 12, 1775 Countess of Upper Ossor; [1528 ' 11529 1646 Sept. 16, 1775 George Augustus Selwyr i . 1530 1647 Oct. 3, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1532 1648 Oct. 6, 1775 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Coe iway 1533 1649 Oct. 10, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . . 1534 1650 Oct. 17, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1535 List of Letters T C 1651 Oct. 21, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1536 1652 Oct. 23, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1537 1653 Oct. 25, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1538 1654 Oct. 27, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1539 1655 Oct. 27, 1775 . . Duke of Richmond . . 1540 1656 Oct. 28, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1541 1657 Nov. 9, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor; f . 1542 1658 Nov. 14, 1775. . Sir Horace Mann . 1543 1659 Nov. 18, 1775. . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1544 1660 Nov. 23, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1545 1661 Nov. 27, 1775 . . Rev. William Mason . 1546 1662 Dec. 4, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1547 1663 Dec. 8, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1548 1664 Dec. 10, 1775. . Rev. William Cole . . 1549 1665 Dec. 11, 1775. . Countess of Ailesbury . 1550 1666 Dec. 14, 1775 . . Rev. William Cole . . 1551 1667+ Dec. 14, 1775 . . Rev. Thomas Percy. 1668 Dec. 17, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1552 1669 Dec. 19, 1775. . Thomas Astle . 1553 1670 Dec. 20, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 3554 1671 Dec. 21, 1775. . Rev. William Mason . 1555 1672 Dec. 25, 1775. . John Robinson. 1673 Dec. 26, 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1556 1674 Dec. 27, 1775 . . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1557 1675+ Dec. 1775 . . Sir Horace Mann. 1776. 1676 Jan. 26, 1776 . . Rev. William Cole . . 1558 1677 Jan. 28, 1776. . Sir Horace Mann . 1559 1678 [Feb. 1776] . . Edward Gibbon . . 1560 1679 Feb. 6 [1776] . . Rev. William Mason . 1561 1680 Feb. 14, 1776 . . Edward Gibbon . . 1562 1681 Feb. 15, 1776. . Sir Horace Mann . . 1563 1682 Feb. 18, 1776 . . Rev. William Mason . 1564 1683 Feb. 29, 1776 . . Rev. William Mason . . 1565 1684 March 1, 1776 . Rev. William Cole . . . 1566 1685 March 11, 1776 . Rev. William Mason . 1567 1686 March 22, 1776 . Sir Horace Mann . . 1568 1687 April 4, 1776 . . Dr. Gem . . . . 1569 1688 April 8, 1776 . . Rev. William Mason . . 1570 1689 [April 1776] . . + Now prin Rev. William Mason ted for the first time. . . 1571 List of Letters XI C 1690 April 16, 1776 Rev. William Cole . . 1572 1691 April 17, 1776 Sir Horace Mann . 1573 1692 April 20, 1776 Rev. William Mason . 1574 1693 April 21, 1776 Rev. William Mason . . 1575 1694 April 23, 1776 Rev. William Mason . 1576 1695 April 24, 1776 Sir Horace Mann . 1577 1696 May 4, 1776 . Rev. William Mason . 1579 1697 May 14, 1776 . Rev. William Mason . 1580 1698 May 17, 1776 . Sir Horace Mann . 1581 1699 May 20, 1776 . Rev. William Mason . 1582 1700 May 27, 1776 . Sir Horace Mann . 1583 1701 [May 1776] . Viscount Nuneham . . 1584 1702 June 1, 1776 . Rev. William Cole . . 1585 1703 June 5, 1776 . Sir Horace Mann . 1586 1704 June 11, 1776 Rev. William Cole . . 1587 1705 June 20, 1776 Countess of Upper Ossor r . 1588 1706 Ce 23 Juin 1776 Count Schuwalof. 1707 June 25, 1776 Countess of Upper Ossor; r . 1589 1708 June 30, 1776 Hon. Henry Seymour Con way 1590 1709 July 10, 1776 . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1591 1710 July 13, 1776 . Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1592 1711 July 16, 1776 . Sir Horace Mann . 1593 1712 July 17, 1776. Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1594 1713 July 23, 1776. Rev. William Cole . . 1595 1714 July 24, 1776 . Rev. William Cole . . 1596 1715 Aug. 4, 1776 . Countess of Upper Ossor Y . 1597 1716 Aug. 11, 1776 Sir Horace Mann . 1598 1717 Aug. 16, 1776 Countess of Upper Ossor T . 1599 1718 Aug. 19, 1776 Rev. William Cole . 1600 1719 Aug. 20, 1776 Sir Horace Mann . 1601 1720 Aug. 22, 1776 Countess of Upper Ossor y . 1602 1721 Sept. 9, 1776 . . Rev. William Cole . . 1603 1722 Sept. 17, 1776 Rev. William Mason . 1604 1723 Sept. 20, 1776 Sir Horace Mann . 1605 1724 Sept. 22, 1776 Countess of Upper Ossor; Y . 1606 1725 Oct, 8, 1776 . . Rev. William Mason . 1607 1726 Oct. 9, 1776 . . Countess of Upper Ossor r . 1608 1727 Oct. 13, 1776 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1609 1728 Oct. 13, 1776 . . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1610 1729 Thursday, [Oct.] [1776] 31, Hon. Henry Seymour Con way 1611 1730 Nov. 1, 1776 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1612 1731 Nov. 2, 1776 . . Earl of Strafford . . 1613 Xll List of Letters T C 1782 [Nov. 1776] . . Rev. William Mason Part of 1604 1733 Nov. 13, 1776. . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1614 1734 Nov. 24,1776. . Sir Horace Mann . 1615 1735 Dec. 1, 1776 . . Sir Horace Mann . 1616 1736 Dec. 3, 1776 . . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1617 1737 Dec. 9, 1776 . . George Allan. 1738 Dec. 9, 1776 . . Rev. William Cole . . 1618 1739 Dec. 17, 1776. . Countess of Upper Ossory ¦ 1619 1740 Dec. 20, 1776. . Sir Horace Mann . 1620 1741 Dec. 23, 1776. . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1621 1742+ [1776] . . . Comtesse de Viry. T Now printed for the first time. THE LETTERS OF HOEACE WALPOLE 1540. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, May 28, 1774. Nothing will he more agreeable to me, dear Sir, than a visit from you in July. I will try and persuade Mr. Granger to meet you ; and if you had any such thing as summer in the fens, I would desire you to bring a bag with you. We are almost freezing here in the midst of beautiful verdure, with a profusion of blossoms and flowers : but I keep good fires, and seem to feel warm weather while I look through the window, for the way to ensure summer in England is to have it framed and glazed in a comfortable room. I shall be still more glad to hear you are settled in your living. Burnham * is almost in my neighbourhood, and its being in that of Eton and Windsor will more than console you, I hope, for leaving Ely and Cambridge. Pray let me know the moment you are certain. It would now be a disappointment to me as well as you. You shall be inaugurated in my chapel, which is much more venerable than your parish church, and has the genuine air of antiquity. I bought very little at poor Mr. Bateman's, His nephew disposed of little that was worth house-room, and yet pulled the whole to pieces. Lettkb 1540. — 1 Cole succeeded vicar of Burnham in Buckingharo- his half-brother, Dr. Apthorpe, as shire in June 1774. WALPOLE. IX 3 2 To the Rev. William Cole [mi Mr. Pennant2 has published a new tour to Scotland and the Hebrides, and, though he has endeavoured to paint their dismal isles and rocks in glowing colours, they will not be satisfied, for he seems no bigot about Ossian, at least in some passages, and is free in others, which their intolerating spirit will resent. I cannot say the book is very entertaining to me, as it is more a book of rates than of antiquities. The most amusing part was communicated to him by Mr. Banks, who found whole islands that bear nothing but columns, as other places do grass and barley. There is a beautiful cave called Fingal's, which proves that nature loves Gothic architecture. Mr. Pennant has given a new edition of his former tour with more cuts. Among others is the vulgar head called the Countess of Desmond. I told him I had discovered, and proved past contradiction, that it is Eembrandt's mother ; he owned it, and said he would correct it by a note— but he has not. This is a brave way of being an antiquary ; as if there could be any merit in giving for genuine what one knows is spurious. He is, indeed, a superficial man, and knows little of history or antiquity — but he has a violent rage for being an author. He set out with ornithology, and a littie natural history, and picks up his knowledge as he rides. I have a still lower idea of Mr. Gough ; for Mr. Pennant, at least, is very civil The other is a hog. Mr. Fenn d, another smatterer in antiquity, but a very good sort of man, told me Mr. Gough desired to be introduced to me — but as he has been such a bear to you, he shall not come. The Society of Antiquaries put me in mind of what the old Lord Pembroke said to Anstis the » Thomas Pennant (1726-1798). in 1787. He was the first editor He visited Scotland in 1769 and of the Paston Letters. A series of 1772, and published accounts of both letters addressed to him by Walpole tours. is printed for the first time in the s John Fenn (1739-1794), knighted present edition. 1774] To the Rev. William Cole 3 herald : ' Thou silly fellow, thou dost not know thy own silly business.' If they went beyond taste by poking into barbarous ages when there was no taste, one could forgive them — but they catch at the first ugly thing they see, and take it for old, because it is new to them, and then usher it pompously into the world as if they had made a discovery, though they have not yet cleared up a single point that is of the least importance, or that tends to settle any obscure passage in history. I will not condole with you on having had the gout, since you find it has removed other complaints. Besides, as it begins late, you are never likely to have it severely. I shall be in terrors in two or three months, having had the four last fits periodically and biennially. Indeed, the two last were so long and severe, that my remaining and shattered strength could ill support such. I must repeat how glad I shall be to have you at Burn ham. When people grow old, as you and I do, they should get together. Others do not care for us, but we seem wiser to one another by finding fault with them — not that I am apt to dislike young folks, whom I think everything be comes ; but it is a kind of self-defence to live in a body. I dare to say that monks never find out that they grow old fools. Their age gives them authority, and nobody con tradicts them. In the world, one cannot help perceiving one is out of fashion. Women play at cards with women of their own standing, and censure others between the deals, and thence conclude themselves Gamaliels. I, who see many young men with better parts than myself, submit with a good grace, or retreat hither to my castle, where I am satisfied with what I have done, and am always in good humour ; but I like to have one or two old friends with me — I do not much invite the juvenile, who think my castle and me of equal antiquity, for no wonder, if they B 2 i To Sir Horace Mann [1774 suppose that George I lived in the time of the Crusades. Adieu ! my good Sir, and pray let Burnham Wood and Dunsinane be good neighbours. Yours ever, Hob. Walpole. 1541. To Sie Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, June 8, 1774. We are still in the dark about Louis XVI, and do not know whether he designs to make war on the old ministers, on us, or on the ladies of pleasure. They represent him as covetous, but he has only retrenched some tables at court, and has remitted a great sum to the people. As the blessings of the latter are more desirable than those of the nobility, I am apt to think they are more prevalent too than the maledictions of the latter. As yet there seem to be no colours hung out by which one can judge. D'Aiguillon, it is thought, will fall, though he is said to have betrayed l Madame du Barri, and to have prevented her escape. Were I an absolute monarch, which such a man would make one wish oneself, I would forbid him ever to set his foot in a town where there was a single gentleman, as not fit to breathe where there is one. Old La Vrilliere2, another wretch, is likely to fall too, unpitied. I wish the Chancellor3 may too, who is a villainous bashaw. Maurepas * does not gain ground. No exiles are recalled. Were the Due de Choiseul to rise again, I could easily tell what would happen. The Mes dames have had the small-pox, and have escaped, which Letter 1541. — l This did not prove 3 Maupeou. Walpole. true. Walpole. * The Comte de Maurepas was 2 Mons. de St. Florentine, Seore- disgraced in 1749. Louis XVI re. tary of State, and then Due de la called him to court, and made him Vrilliere, Walpole. Chef du Conseil des Finances. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 5 makes one glad after such meritorious behaviour, — meri torious, but which it was cruel not to restrain. Indeed, we want no foreign war: the scene in America grows serious. We have this week heard that New York has taken as warm a part as Boston against the teas. The House of Commons sits very late every day, though at this season, on a bill for settling Canada ; and though it is said the Parliament will rise next week, I should think the prorogation would be very short, till the news from America are better. Lord Chatham has appeared in the House of Lords, but pleased nobody but Lord Temple, with whom he is again strictly united, which you may mention to his sister5. This is the sum of public history, at least that I know, who have been very little in town this month. The Duke of Devonshire and Lady Georgiana Spencer were married on Sunday; and this month Lord Stanley marries Lady Betty Hamilton6. He gives her a most splendid entertainment to-morrow at his villa7 in Surrey, and calls it a fete champetre. It will cost five thousand pounds. Everybody is to go in masquerade, but not in mask. He has bought all the orange-trees round London, and the haycocks, I suppose, are to be made of straw- coloured satin. Lady Mary Coke is arrived. She has not been false to the Duke of York's bed, but was so frail as to cuckold his vault ; for she went down into that at St. Denis with Louis Quatorze, as she did into that at Westminster when the Princess died. Her Grace of Kingston, though a phe nomenon, is no original ; the purchase of Sixtus Quintus's 8 Miss Anne Pitt, then in Flo- Smith-Stanley, Lord Stanley, who rence. succeeded his grandfather as twelfth • Lady Elizabeth Hamilton (d. Earl of Derby in 1776. 1797), daughter of sixth Duke of 7 The Oaks, Epsom. Hamilton ; m. (June 23, 1774) Edward 6 To Sir Horace Mann [1774 villa8 seems to be an imitation of that stroller, Queen Christina. My chapel is finished, and Donatello's St. John is en shrined in it. In truth, every chamber at Strawberry is enriched with your presents, which are its most valuable ornaments ; — the Caligula, the Castiglione, Bianca Capello, Benvenuto Cellini's casket, the Florentine box. Take notice, I have not an inch of space left, neither in my house nor my gratitude. I have even forgotten some, as the intaglia of an Apollo, and perhaps twenty things more. I am sorry to tell Mrs. Pitt that her house at Knights- bridge has been led astray, the moment she turned her back : see what it is to live in a bad neighbourhood ! Pittsburgh, the Temple of Vesta, is as naughty as Villa Kingstoniana ; not that Dr. Elliot's pretty wife" has married another husband in his lifetime; but she has eloped with my Lord Valentia10, who has another wife and some half-dozen children. The sages of Doctors' Commons are to be applied to. I am much obliged to Mrs. Pitt for forcing you to tell me you are safe from your verdigris. It would have been shocking to have heard it, and waited for the post. Her ball she described to you was very like the cloth of a thousand yards, on which were painted all the kings and queens in the universe, and which cloth was lapped up in the kernel of a nut. You are very happy in having such company ; it will indemnify you for forty dozen of bears and bear-leaders, that you 8 Then known as the Villa Ne- the Duke of Rutland's mistress had groni. villas also. Walpole. — Mrs. Elliot 9 Miss Dalrymple, wife of Sir John was afterwards known as Mme. de Elliot, the physician, from whom she St. Alban. was divorced for many adulteries, I0 Arthur Annesley (1744-1816), and became a celebrated courtesan, eighth Viscount Valentia, created known by the name of Dolly the Earl of Mountnorris in 1793; m. Tall. Sir J. Elliot had bought Mrs. (1767) Hon. Lucy Fortescue Lyttelton Anne Pitt's villa at Knightsbridge, (d. 1783), only daughter of first Baron where the Duchess of Kingston and Lyttelton. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 1 have been endeavouring for these thirty years to tame, and the latter half of which never are licked into form. Adieu ! P.S. I am reading Montaigne's Travels, which have lately been found ; there is little in them but the baths and medicines he took, and what he had everywhere for dinner. He was in Italy in 1580, and the only thing that has struck me in the first volume was his seeing Bianca Capello at dinner. He describes her very like your — my picture. She sat above the Duke, and her brother and his wife dined with them, and the Cardinal Ferdinand11. Montaigne says the houses in Italy at that time had no glass windows. His editor, who is a silly fellow, says Pius V obliged Cosimo the Great to marry his mistress Camilla Martelli12. I never heard this anecdote; is it true? Pray ask Mrs. Pitt if Madame Griffoni, though thirteen years younger, preserves any remains of beauty, like the Duchess of Queensberry. I take my Signora to be full threescore. llth. I had forgotten to send my letter to town, and so can answer one I have this instant received from you. I am more sorry for your disappointment in losing your new friend ls than surprised. There is a strange oddness, that at times has been more than oddness ; in short, I do not know whether I am quite sorry ; it is better to have parted in violent friendship than the contrary. The Due d'Aiguillon is certainly out of place, and is succeeded by M. de Vergennes, Ambassador at Stockholm, of whom I know nothing ; M. de Muy" has the departe- " Cardinal Ferdinand de' Medici 13 Mrs. Anne Pitt. Walpole. (1549-1609), afterwards Grand Duke u Louis Nicolas Victor de Felix of Tuscany as Ferdinand I. (1711-1775), Comte du Muy; Mare- is Cosimo I did marry Camilla chal de France, 1775. Martelli. Walpole. 8 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1774 ment de la Guerre. The young King seems in no hurry. There is a notion that he does not love the English. I don't know where he will find the minister that does ; but if the Queen has influence, and her brother 1B has any over her, we shall not have a war— from thence : I will not answer for Spain. If Lady 0. asks you any questions, pray only say you believe I am here, and that as her son is in the country on his side, you imagine we are not much together. I do not desire to give her reasons for quarrelling with him again. 1542. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, June 14, 1774. Viegin Mary ! offended at you, Madam ! I have crossed myself forty times since I read the impious words, never to be pronounced by human lips, — nay, and to utter them, when I am seemingly to blame, — yet, believe me, my silence is not owing to negligence, or to that most wicked of all sins, inconstancy. I have thought on you waking or sleeping, whenever I have thought at all, from the moment I saw you last ; and if there was an echo in the neighbourhood besides Mr. Cambridge, I should have made it repeat your Ladyship's name, till the parish should have presented it for a nuisance. I have begun twenty letters, but the naked truth is, I found I had absolutely nothing to say. You yourself owned, Madam, that I am grown quite lifeless, and it is very true. I am none of your Glastonbury thorns that blow at Christmas. I am a remnant of the last age, and have nothing to do with the present. I am an exile from the sunbeams of Drawing-rooms ; I have quitted the gay scenes of Parliament and the Antiquarian Society; I am not of Almack's ; I don't understand horse-races ; " The Emperor Joseph II, brother of Queen Marie Antoinette. 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 9 I never go to reviews ; what can I have to talk of? I go to no fetes champetres, what can I have to think of? I know nothing but about myself, and about myself I know nothing. I have scarce been in town since I saw you, have scarce seen anybody here, and don't remember a tittle but having scolded my gardener twice, which, indeed, would be as important an article as any in Montaigne's Travels, which I have been reading, and if I was tired of his Essays, what must one be of these ! What signifies what a man thought, who never thought of anything but himself ; and what signifies what a man did, who never did anything ? I hear nothing from France, but that M. d'Aiguillon has given up the Seals. Lady Mary Coke is arrived, but as she never condescends to level her telescope but at the fixed stars, she certainly knows nothing of the meteors of the day, and therefore I shall not expect much intelligence from her. Mr. Anstey, who ought to have shot himself the moment he had finished the Bath Guide, has published the most complete piece of stupidity I ever read. It is a satire on a parson who writes against him in the newspapers, and cannot, it is impossible, have written worse than Anstey himself. The latter has been enrolled in Mr. Miller's Parnassus at Bath, and is quite raving mad that his bouts rimes are not admired. What shall we come to? I am afraid of opening a new book. The reigning dullness is so profound, that it is not even ridiculous. Thank Heaven the age is as dull as I am ! Pray tell me, Madam, some of Lady Anne's bons mots to enliven me a little. I am expecting Lords Ashburnham, March, Digby, Williams, and George Selwyn. N.B. I shall not ask for any of the Fagnanina's 1 sayings. It is a dinner in honour of Lord Ashburnham, who pro- Letteb 1542. — ' Maria Fagniani, who was adopted by Selwyn. 10 To Sir William Hamilton [1774 cured for me the window of my chapel, which is just finished and divine, and ready against the Catholic religion is quite restored. Miss Aikin 2 has been here this morning (she is just married) ; she desired to see the Castle of Otranto ; I let her see all the antiquities of it. 1543. To Sir "William Hamilton. Strawberry Hill, June 19, 1774. For fear of troubling you, dear Sir, with two letters instead of one, I waited for the arrival of the shields1 before I thanked for them — but it put my gratitude to pain, for I did not receive them till the day before yesterday. Now they are come, it will, which is very selfish, double my gratitude, for they are fine and most charming — nay, almost in too good taste, not to put my Gothic house to shame — I wish the Medusas could turn it to stone ! In short, I am exceedingly obliged to you ; but though I have spared you one letter of my own, it will cost you another of yours, for you must tell me more about them. The two that are painted are in the great style of the best age ; and by the Earl of Surry's shield in the Duke of Norfolk's possession, which is in the same manner as to the form and disposition, though not so bold, I should conclude they are by Polidore, or of that school. Pray satisfy me, and of the pedigree of the other too, which by the battlements on the buildings my house pretends is of its own family. 2 Anna Letitia (1743-1825), daugh- other of Perseus : on the insides are ter of Dr. John Aikin ; m. (1 774) Rev. battles in gold. They came out of Rochemont Barbauld. She was the the collection of Commendatore Vit- author of the Hymns in Prose for toria at Naples, and were sent to Children. Mr. W. by Sir W. Hamilton, with Letter 1 543. — Not in C. ; now a third of iron, representing the first printed from original in pos- story of Curtius, but certainly not session of Mr. John W. Ford. antique, as there is a cannon and an 1 ' Two shields of leather, for embattled tower at a distance.' (De- tournaments, painted by Polidore; scription of Strawberry Bill.) one has the head of Medusa, the 1774] To Sir William Hamilton 11 I am going to hang them by the beautiful armour of Francis I, and they will certainly make me dream of another Castle of Otranto, or at least of a tournament more superb than Lord Stanley's fete champetre, though the latter cost half a million. Indeed, if gratitude was apt to colour one's dreams, I have so many monuments of your kindness and friendship, that my house and garden would make my sleep as agreeable as my waking hours. I should write another Gerusalemme for Eleanora d'Este 2, and pray for you in my new chapel, which is just finished, and where the shrine appears more gorgeous than the spoils Of Ormus and of Ind. I do not mean new Claremont, which is not half so mag nificent. You will not expect English news at this time of year. We have none but what we import from France, where the new King and his brothers were to be inoculated yesterday. His Majesty is so economic that he will not give fetes champetres. The French, who did not intend to like, adore him ; and the Queen, who is too much the Virgin Mary, has quite dethroned the latter in their idolatry. The Due d'Aiguillon is removed, which delights almost everybody, and the Due de Choiseul has been at Versailles, which pleases almost as many— though not us, for we have no mind to a war. General Conway is gone a tour of armies, because he has not seen enough of them. Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer are to fetch him from Paris in October. The Duke of Devonshire is married ; Lord Stanley and Lady Betty Hamilton are to be in July. Some wedlocks are breaking too : Lord Valentia has preferred Dr. Elliot's 2 A marble bas-relief, inscribed pole by Sir William Hamilton. It Dia Helianora, and representing the was placed in the cloister at Straw- Princess with whom Tasso was in berry Hill. love, was presented to Horace Wai- 12 To Sir William Hamilton [1774 pretty wife to his own plain one ; but I do not find that there was much preference on her side, but rather on the Doctor's, for he has selected Lord Valentia from several other lords and gentlemen who have been equally kind to the fair one. We have the most delightful of all summers — fruits, flowers, corn, grass, leaves — in short, though Judaea flowed with milk and honey, I do not believe it was much richer than the present face of England. I know but one richer spot, which is Almack's, where a thousand meadows and cornfields are staked at every throw, and as many villages lost as in the earthquake that overwhelmed Hereulaneum and Pompeii. Pray tell Lady Hamilton I heard a new instrument yesterday, which transported me, though I have not the most musical ears in the world. It is a copulation of a harpsi chord and a violin ; one hand strikes the keys and the other draws the bow ; the sounds are prolonged, and it is the softest and most touching melody I ever heard. The instrument is so small it stands on a table and is called a Celestinette s. St. Cecilia or Lady Hamilton would draw all the angels out of heaven with it, or immediately be appointed organists there. Adieu ! dear Sir — shield me from any more presents. Consider how you have loaded me, and though gratitude is seldom mortal, I cannot bear so many obligations. I do not know how to be enough Your very thankful Humble servant, Hor. Walpole. 3 It was invented by Mason the poet. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 13 1544. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, June 23, 1774. I have nothing to say — which is the best reason in the world for writing ; for one must have a great regard for anybody one writes to, when one begins a letter neither on ceremony nor business. You are seeing armies1, who are always in fine order and great spirits when they are in cold blood : I am sorry you thought it worth while to realize what I should have thought you could have seen in your mind's eye. However, I hope you will be amused and pleased with viewing heroes, both in their autumn and their bud. Vienna will be a new sight ; so will the Austrian eagle and its two heads2. I should like seeing, too, if any fairy would present me with a chest that would fly up into the air by touching a peg, and transport me whither I pleased in an instant: but roads, and inns, and dirt are terrible drawbacks on my curiosity. I grow so old, or so indolent, that I scarce stir from hence; and the dread of the gout makes me almost as much a prisoner, as a fit of it. News I know none, if there is any. The papers tell me the City was to present a petition to the King against the Quebec Bill3 yesterday; and I suppose they will tell me to-morrow whether it was presented. The Letter 1544. — 1 Mr. Conway was that province, except taxation, which now on a tour of military curiosity council should be appointed by the through Flanders, Germany, Prussia, crown, the office to be held during and part of Hungary. Walpole. pleasure ; and his Majesty's Canadian 2 The Empress-Queen Maria The- Roman Catholic subjects were en- resa and her son the Emperor Joseph, titled to a place in it. To establish who was joint-regent of her heredi- the French laws, and a trial without tary states. jury, in civil cases, and the English 3 'The principal objects of the laws, with a trial by jury, in criminal. Quebec Bill were to ascertain the To secure to the Roman Catholic limits of that province, which were clergy, except the Regulars, the legal extended far beyond what had been enjoyment of their estates, and of settled as such by the King's pro- their tithes from all who are of their clamation of 1763. To form a legis- own religion.' (Ann. Beg. 1774, p. 75.) lative council for all the affairs of 14 To Sir Horace Mann [mi King's Speech tells me there has nothing happened between the Eussians and the Turks. Lady Barrymore told me t'other day that nothing was to happen between her and Lord Egremont. I am as well satisfied with these negatives as I should have been with the contrary. I am much more interested about the rain, for it destroys all my roses and orange-flowers, of which I have exuberance ; and my hay is cut, and cannot be made. However, it is delightful to have no other distresses. When I compare my present tranquillity and indifference with all I suffered last year *, I am thankful for my happiness, and enjoy it — unless the bell rings at the gate early in the morning — and then I tremble, and think it an express from Norfolk. It is unfortunate, that when one has nothing to talk of but oneself, one should have nothing to say of oneself. It is shameful, too, to send such a scrap by the post. I think I shall reserve it till Tuesday. If I have then nothing to add, as is probable, you must content yourself with my good intentions, as you, I hope, will with this speculative campaign. Pray, for the future, remain at home, and build bridges : I wish you were here to expedite ours to Eichmond, which they tell me will not be passable these two years. I have done looking so forward. Adieu ! 1545. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, July 10, 1774. The month is come round, and I have, besides, a letter of yours to answer ; and yet if I was not as regular as a husband or a merchant in paying my just dues, I think I should not perform the function, for I certainly have no natural call to it at present. Nothing in yours requires a response, and I have nothing new to tell you. Yet, if * During the illness of his nephew, Lord Orford. Walpole. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 15 one once breaks in upon punctuality, adieu to it ! I will not give out, after a perseverance of three-and-thirty years ; and so far I will not resemble a husband. The whole blood royal of France is recovered from the small-pox. Both Choiseul and Broglio are recalled, and I have some idea that even the old Parliament will be so. The King is adored, and a most beautiful compliment has been paid to him: somebody wrote under the statue of Henri Quatre, Besurrexit. Lord Holland is at last dead, and Lady Holland is at the point of death. His sons would still be in good cir cumstances, if they were not his sons; but he had so totally spoiled the two eldest, that they would think them selves bigots if they were to have common sense. The prevailing style is not to reform, though Lord Lyttelton pretends to have set the example. Gaming, for the last month, has exceeded its own outdoings, though the town is very empty. It will be quite so to-morrow, for New market begins, or rather the youth adjourn thither. After that they will have two or three months of repose ; but if they are not severely blooded and blistered, there will be no alteration. Their pleasures are no more entertaining to others than delightful to themselves; one is tired of asking every day who has won or lost? and even the portentous sums they lose cease to make impression. One of them has committed a murder, and intends to repeat it. He betted 1,500Z. that a man could live twelve hours under water ; hired a desperate fellow, sunk him in a ship, by way of experiment, and both ship and man have not appeared since. Another man and ship are to be tried for their lives, instead of Mr. Blake, the assassin. Christina, Duchess of Kingston, is arrived, in a great fright, I believe, for the Duke's nephews are going to prove her first marriage, and hope to set the will aside. It is 16 To the Rev. William Mason [1774 a pity her friendship with the Pope had not begun earlier ; he might have given her a dispensation. If she loses her cause, the best thing he can do will be to give her the veil. I am sorry all Europe will not furnish me with another paragraph. Africa is, indeed, coming into fashion. There is just returned a Mr. Bruce1, who has lived three years in the court of Abyssinia, and breakfasted every morning with the Maids of Honour on live oxen. Otaheite and Mr. Banks are quite forgotten ; but Mr. Blake 2, I suppose, will order a live sheep for supper at Almack's, and ask whom he shall help to a piece of the shoulder. Oh yes ; we shall have negro butchers, and French cooks will be laid aside. My Lady Townshend, after the Eebellion, said everybody was so bloodthirsty, that she did not dare to dine abroad, for fear of meeting with a rebel-pie — now one shall be asked to come and eat a bit of raw mutton. In truth, I do think we are ripe for any extravagance. I am not wise enough to wish the world reasonable — I only desire to have follies that are amusing, and am sorry Cervantes laughed chivalry out of fashion. Adieu ! 1546. To the Eev. "William Mason. Strawberry HUI, July 19, 1774. I send you by the Fraser-Mercury the Itinerary of Mr. Gray with my manuscript additions. I don't know whether I have made them too long or too short, but as you are entirely at liberty to curtail or lengthen, or omit such as you disapprove, it does not signify what they are. They have indeed a fault I cannot mend, unless by time, and which yet I probably shall not mend: I mean they are Letter 1545. — J James Bruce 2 Who betted on the man's living (1730-1794), the traveller. under water twelve hours. Walpole. 1774] To the Rev. WiUiam Mason 17 not complete ; for there are some considerable places that I never saw, and I am grown too lazy, since I can walk but little, to think of visiting them now. I shall take care how I wish earnestly again for your coming southward : you gave me so little of your time and was so much in request, that I was only tantalized. I like your fixed stars that one can pore at when one pleases; but there is such a fuss with you comets, that even women and children must know all about them. I know nothing but that we have deplorable weather; the sun, like you, has called but once at Strawberry. To make amends, the cold has brought oh the winter fruits so fast, that I had a codlin tart to-day, and expect pears and apples ripe before peaches and nectarines. I wish we had never imported those southern delicacies, unless we had brought their climate over too. We should have been very happy with our hips and haws, and rainy days, and called it luxury. I cannot afford to have hothouses, and glass houses, and acres of tanner's bark, as every tradesman has at his villa, or at his mistress's villa. I kill my own straw berries and cream, and can aim no higher. Do you know that it would be charity to send me some thing to print, or to tell me what I shall print ? My press is at a dead stand, and I would fain employ it while I may, without permission of a licencer, for though it has always been as harmless as if it was under the cannon of Sion Hill, it would be vocal no more, if it might only utter Dutch Bibles, or editions in usum Delphmi1. I know you have twenty things in your portefeuiUe. I will print as few copies as you please. I have no ambition of serving or amusing the public, and think of nothing but diverting myself and the few I love. What signifies taking the trouble Letter 1546. — l Lady Holdernesse band (the owner of Sion Hill) was was a Dutchwoman, and her hus- Governor to the Prince of Wales. WALPOLE. IX C 18 To the Rev. William Cole [1774 to be put, I don't know how soon, into an Index Expur- gatoriius ! To-day is ours ; let us enjoy it. Yours ever, H. W. 1547. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, July 21, 1774. Your illness, dear Sir, is the worst excuse you could make me ; and the worse, as you may be well in a night, if you will, by taking six grains of James's powder. He cannot cure death ; but he can most complaints that are not mortal or chronical. He could cure you so soon of colds, that he would cure you of another distemper, to which I doubt you are a little subject, the fear of them. I hope you were certain that illness is a legal plea for missing induction, or you will have nursed a cough and hoarseness with too much tenderness; as they certainly could bear a journey. Never see my face again, if you are not rector of Burnham. How can you be so bigoted to Milton 1 ? I should have thought the very name would have prejudiced you against the place, as the name is all that could approach towards reconciling me to the fens. I shall be very glad to see you here, whenever you have resolution enough to quit your cell. But since Burnham and the neighbourhood of Windsor and Eton have no charms for you, can I expect that Strawberry Hill should have any? Methinks, when one grows old, one's co- temporary friends should be our best amusement ; for younger people are soon tired of us, and our old stories : but I have found the contrary in some of mine. For your part, you care for conversing with none but the dead : for I reckon the unborn, for whom you are writing, as much dead as those from whom you collect. Letter 1547. — Dated by C. June 21. 1 Cole was an extreme Tory. 1774] To the Rev. William Cole 19 You certainly ask no favour, dear Sir, when you want prints of me. They are at anybody's service that thinks them worth having. The owner sets very little value on them, since he sets very little indeed on himself ; as a man, a very faulty one ; and as an author, a very middling one : which whoever thinks a comfortable rank, is not at all of my opinion. Pray convince me that you think I mean sincerely, by not answering me with a compliment. It is very weak to be pleased with flattery ; the stupidest of all delusions to beg it. From you I should take it ill. We have known one another almost fifty years — to very little purpose, indeed, if any ceremony is necessary, or downright sincerity not established between us. Only tell me that you are recovered, and that I shall see you some time or other. I have finished the Catalogue of my collec tion; but you shall never have it without fetching, nor, though a less punishment, the prints you desire. I propose in time to have plates of my house added to the Catalogue, yet I cannot afford them, unless by degrees. Engravers are grown so much dearer, without my growing richer, that I must have patience ! a quality I seldom have, but when I must. Adieu ! Yours ever, H. W. P.S. I have lately been at Ampthill, and saw Queen Katherine's cross. It is not near large enough for the situa tion, and would be fitter for a garden than a park : but it is executed in the truest and best taste. Lord Ossory is quite satisfied, as well as I, and designs Mr. Essex a present of some guineas. If ever I am richer, I shall consult the same honest man about building my offices, for which I have a plan : but if I have no more money ever, I will not run in debt, and distress myself; and therefore remit my designs to chance and a little economy. c a 20 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1774 1548. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, July 30, 1774. I can satisfy few of your Ladyship's questions about Lady Holland, except by what little I heard from Mr. Craw- furd, who came hither one evening between eight and nine, and went away the moment he had breakfasted the next morning. Of her death he told me nothing. The fortune he thinks much more considerable than the family ex pected. This Lord Holland will have 10,000Z. a year. Charles Fox will be entirely cleared, have his place, and 200Z. a year, and 10,000?., a pretty beginning for a younger brother, for Julius Caesar not a breakfast. Henry1 has 20,000?., and 900Z. a year. There is a strange legacy to Lady Sarah2 of 200Z., and Mrs. Mellier3 is forgotten. Un doubtedly poor Lady Holland knew little what she said: indeed, six hundred drops of laudanum every day could leave her very little reflection. Lord Thomond's no-will is still more surprising, as he was persuaded he should die this year. He had had a draft of a will from his lawyer three years ago, and had not filled up the blanks. As he had taken the government of Lord Egremont's next brother*, that boy was supposed his heir. Lord Egremont has made strict inquiry, and said he would comply literally with whatever he could learn were his uncle's instructions; but nobody can recollect the smallest hint. They say Lord Egremont was his favourite, and I believe he chose this way of heaping everything on the head of the Wyndhams. Letter 1548. — l Henry Fox, Lord pardon to Lady Ilchester and to Lady Holland's youngest son. Holland. 2 Lady Sarah Bunbury, sister of * Hon. Percy Charles Wyndham, Xady Holland. second son of second Earl of Egre- 3 Mrs. Melliar's maiden name wag mont. Cheeke. She had formerly been com- 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 21 Pray, Madam, tell the Duchess of Bedford how sensible I am of her goodness. I am thoroughly so of the merits of the whole Fitzpatrickhood, but it is very hard to set me on thrumming a lyre like an old blind harper when you have such a cygnet amongst you as Mr. Eichard "- I shall certainly let him know immediately how glad I shall be to see him, if he will bring his own company with him, or I can assemble any he would like ; but do not think I will punish him with a tete-a-tete, and my stories of the last age. Nothing upon earth is so insipid as my life to anybody but myself. For example, how do you think, Madam, he would have found me employed if he had called yesterday? Writing the history of Twickenham, and surrounded with books of peerages to find out who an ancient Lady West moreland 6 was that lived in the back lane here. Think of my joy when I discovered that she was sister of Grammont's Lady Shrewsbury ', and aunt of Myra 8, of the first Duchess of Eichmond 9, and of a Lady Molyneux 10, who was a toast of the Kit Cat Club, and died smoking a pipe ! Judge how much Mr. Fitzpatrick would be amused with such game ! There is little probability of my accompanying Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer to Paris. I am within two months of my biennial fit of the gout, and for the last four days have been alarmed with symptoms of it, as great 5 Hon. Richard Fitzpatrick. as ' Myra ' by Lord Lansdowne and 6 LadyDorothyBrudenell,youngest by Dr. WiUiam King (nephew of her daughter of second Earl of Cardigan; third husband) in a mock-heroic m. (1) Charles Fane, third Earl of poem called The Toast. Westmorland; (2) Robert Constable, 9 Hon. Anne Brndenell, m. (1) third Viscount Dunbar ; d. 1740. Henry Belasyse, second Baron Bela- 7 Lady Anna Maria Brndenell, m. syse of Worlaby ; (2) Charles Lenox, (1) Francis Talbot, eleventh Earl first Duke of Richmond; d. 1722. of Shrewsbury; (2) George Rodney 10 Hon. Mary Brudenell (d. 1765), Bridges ; d. 1702. m. (1) Riohard Molyneux, third Vis- 8 Hon. Frances Brudenell, m. (1) count Molyneux; (2) Captain Peter Charles Livingston, second Earl of Osborne. These ladies were daugh- Newburgh ; (2) Richard Bellew, third ters of Francis Brudenell, Lord Baron Bellew of Duleek ; (3) Sir Brudenell, eldest son of second Earl Thomas Smythe. She was celebrated of Cardigan, whom he predeceased, 22 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1774 nervousness and feverish pains flying about me. It would be more prudent to go to Bath, or to the seaside : I detest the first, and do not know how to amuse myself at the second. In truth I am not very ill, for I slept last night from half an hour past twelve till nine ; but my dread of the gout is incredible, and of having it anywhere but at home still greater, so that unless I have a slight fit soon, I shall not have courage for a long journey, though I have curiosity to peep at the new reign. I have been charmingly interrupted; Mr. Fitzpatrick has been here two hours; I told him what I had said to your Ladyship, and sent him back with his pocket stuffed with books, but such as he may read when his servant is curling his hair. One was a collection of ballads in Queen Anne's time ! I hope they will put him in tune. Now for the court of France. Monsieur de Boynes, a rising genius in the last ministry, is turned out, and a Monsieur Turgot11 made Secretary of State for the Marine in his room, a friend of Maurepas. The Duke of Orleans and the Duke of Chartres are for bidden the court for refusing to assist at the catafalque of the late King, when they must have saluted the Parliament, whom they will not acknowledge — however, this rod is supposed to be laid on only in ceremony, and my letters bid me not conclude thence that the new Parliament will be maintained ; accordingly I conclude it will not. My faith about things indifferent is pretty obedient, and may be led like a child. Consequently I would not for the world have a table of trou-madame 12, without a king and a queen : I should detest a republican table, and wish 11 Anne Robert Jaoques Turgot of pensions and useless offices. He (1727-1781), Baron de 1'Aune. He was dismissed by Louis XVI in 1776. became Contr61eur General des Fi- 12 ' Sorte de jeu forms de plusieurs nances in August 1774. His career arcades numerotees qu'on cherche as a financial reformer was put a a enfiler avec des petites boules stop to by the clamours of those who d'ivoire.' (Larousse.) objected to his plans for the abolition 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 23 I could have one cut out of the same log of wood with your Ladyship's for the sake of the hereditary line. Let me beseech you if it thunders to go into the cellar, and say the collect about bad weather. I could not bear another disappointment in the right line, and am not in different to that succession, but beg my trou-madame may have a king as well as a queen. 1549. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Aug. 3, 1774. I told you in my last that her Grace of Kingston was arrived. Had I written it four-and-twenty hours later, I might have told you she was gone again, with much precipitation, and with none of the pomp of her usual progresses. In short, she had missed her lawyer's letters, which warned her against returning. A prosecution for bigamy was ready to meet her. She decamped in the middle of the night ; and six hours after the officers of justice were at her door to seize her. This is but an un- heroic catastrophe of her romance ; and though she is as thorough a comedian as Sixtus Quintus, it would be a little awkward to take possession of his villa, after being burnt in the hand. What will be the issue of the suit and law suit I cannot tell. As so vast an estate is the prize, the lawyers will probably protract it beyond this century. Her friend the Electress of Saxony1 said to the Duke of Glou cester, ' Poor thing ! what could she do ; she was so young when she was first married?' Lady Holland is dead — just three weeks after her Lord. She has cleared all the debts of her two elder sons ; the eldest has a large fortune, and Charles a decent beginning Letter 1549. — > Maria Antonia of Bavaria, wife of the Elector Frederick Augustus HI of Saxony. 24 To Sir Horace Mann [1774 of another ; though it may not last a night, if he chooses to make it a codicil to all he has lost, and scorns to be indebted to anything but his own parts for his elevation. Lord Thomond2 is dead too; and though possessed of near ten thousand a year, and fifty thousand in money, nay, though he has long expected to die suddenly, and at the same age with his grandfather, father, and brother, as he has done, he could not bring himself to make a will, and the whole real estate falls to his nephew, Lord Egremont. These are all the events of this inactive summer; and I chose this small paper, as abundantly large enough to contain them. Nay, I do not see how I shall reach its third page. I find that in France they are persuaded the old Parlia ment will be restored. The Dukes of Orleans and Chartres are again forbidden the court for refusing to assist at the catafalque of the late King, where they must have saluted the new Parliament: yet this is not thought a disgrace. Monsieur de Boines is removed for a Monsieur Turgot. I see, however, that the old spirit remains at least in one quarter, and that they continue butchering the poor Corsi- cans. Is it true that the King of Sardinia is to have that island ? How unfortunate it is that little countries should retain a spirit of independence, which they have not strength to preserve; and that great nations, who might throw it off, court the yoke ! 4th. Oh, my dear Sir, what a heartfelt pleasure I have had this moment ! I have been to Mr. Croft's to see your picture. It brought the tears into my eyes ; though thirty years have fattened you, made you florid, I traced eveiy feature, and saw the whole likeness in the character and 2 Percy Windham O'Brien, Earl of Thomond, second son of Sir William Windham, and younger brother of Charles, Earl of Egremont. Walpole. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 25 countenance — yes, there is all your goodness. I admire the art of the painter too ; there is harmony in the tone, and though he has given you an Adonis-wig, which grave we should not think adapted to your age, he has managed it so as to have no juvenile air, but to harmonize in the utmost propriety with the decency of the ministerial com posure. In short, as I did once before, I wanted to seize it for my own — but no ! it will go to Linton *, and I hope remain there for ages — which would not, I suppose, be its fate at Strawberry ; that poor bauble will probably be con demned and pulled to pieces by whomever I shall give it to. Our living deeds create no gratitude ; can we expect our affection expressed in a last will should make stronger impressions ? Mr. Croft showed me a letter from you on Birmingham covers for dishes. He has written, but received no answer. I told him I would advise you against them. All plated silver wears abominably, and turns to brass, like the age. You would not bear it six months. He told me that your nephew Horace is on the road to you : how glad I am ! what joy to embrace dear Gal's son ! I think I have seen too many bad hearts in the countenance, not to know when I see a good one ; yes, yes, you will find Gal and yourself in your nephew. I am as sure there is goodness in his heart, as I am that there is sense in his head, and quickness in his parts. I was charmed with him last year ; and don't fancy it is partiality if you think so too the first minute you see him. Certain characters strike fire from each other. The King of Prussia has been amazingly gracious to General Conway, and ordered him to attend him to all his reviews. This is most astonishing favour to an English man. For my part, I am sorry ; I had rather such virtue 3 The seat ofthe Manns In Kent. 26 To George Augustus Selwyn [mi had been marked by his frown. ' There are many Marius's in that Caesar,' a quotation you will not suspect me of in tending for a compliment ! Adieu ! How I love your picture ! Tell me who painted it. I am sure not the one- eyed German who drew Madame Griffoni like a surly Margravine. 1550. To George Augustus Selwyn. Strawberry Hill, Wednesday, Aug. 10th, at night. I think I shall be with you1 on Saturday; at least, I know that I intend to set out to-morrow, and lie at Park Place. But it is so formidable to me to begin a journey, and I have changed my mind so often about this, though I like it so much, that I beg you will not be disappointed if you do not see me. If I were juvenile enough to set off at midnight, and travel all night, you would be sure of me ; but folks who do anything eagerly neither know nor care what they do. Sedate me, who deliberate, at least do not determine but on preference ; therefore, if I sur mount difficulties, I shall at least have some merit with you; and, if I do not, you must allow that the diffi culties were prodigious, when they surmounted so much inclination. In this wavering situation I wish you good night, and hope I shall wake to-morrow as resolute as Hercules or Mr. Bruce. But pray do not give me live-beef for supper. Yours ever, H.W. Letter 1550. — J At Matson, George Selwyn's seat near Gloucester. 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 27 1551. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Thursday, Aug. 11, 1774. Though my chaise is at the door, and the wind and tide fair, I cannot receive a line from you, Madam, to tell me so kindly you are well, without stopping a minute to answer it. I am disappointed, I am vexed, but I am happy you are so soon in spirits again. Don't trust to your strength, nor your health, which is the only way to keep both. Don't be brave this month : the weather is already much cooler, and you need not catch cold to prove how in tolerable the heat is. I don't design to acknowledge Anne III ; I shall call her Madame de Trop, as they named one of the late King of France's daughters. A dauphin ! a dauphin ! I will repeat it as often as the Graces. Apropos, Mr. Cambridge came yesterday and said he must ask to see something I had lately written. I had kept it a profound secret, but concluded Garrick had told him of the verses \ and that it was vain to deny them. Well, I produced them. He stared, was civil about them, and said he was glad he had got them into the bargain, for he had not heard of them, but meant the parody of Lord Chesterfield's Letters 2, which was quite out of my head. I was horridly out of countenance, and to rap my own fingers for my blunder, would not show him what he wanted. This comes of your Ladyship's flattering me ! One may weed and weed one's heart, but if a grain of that devil, vanity, lights on it, it springs up till it chokes one. You have no notion how vexed I was at my own folly — a boy-poet would scarce have been caught so ! It is in vain to say, ' The woman gave me, and I did eat.' Adieu ! my Eve ; as angry as I am, I wish you no worse Letter 1551. — 1 Horace Walpole's 2 See Works of Lord Orford, vol. iv. verses on The Three Vernons. p. 355. 28 To the Rev. William Cole [mi punishment than hers, and I hope it will fall on you before eleven months are over. 1552. To the Eev. William Cole. Dear Sir, Matson, near Gloucester, Aug. 15, 1774. As I am your disciple in antiquities, for you studied them when I was but a scoffer, I think it my duty to give you some account of my journeyings in the good cause. You will not dislike my date: I am in the very mansion where King Charles the First and his two eldest sons lay during the siege, and there are marks of the last's hacking with his hanger on a window, as he told Mr. Selwyn's grandfather afterwards. The present master has done due honour to the royal residence, and erected a good marble bust of the martyr in a little gallery. In a window is a shield in painted glass, with that King's and his Queen's arms, which I gave him. — So you see I am not a rebel, when alma mater antiquity stands godmother. I went again to the cathedral, and, on seeing the monu ment of Edward II, a new historic doubt started, which I pray you to solve. His Majesty has a longish beard, and such were certainly worn at that time. Who is the first historian that tells the story of his being shaven with cold water from a ditch, and weeping to supply warm, as he was carried to Berkeley Castle ? Is not this apocryphal ? The house whence Bishop Hooper was carried to the stake is still standing tale quale. I made a visit to his actual successor, Warburton, who is very infirm, speaks with much hesitation, and, they say, begins to lose his memory. They have destroyed the beautiful cross ; the two battered heads of Henry III and Edward III are in the postmaster's garden. Yesterday I made a jaunt four miles hence that pleased 1774] To the Rev. William Cole 29 me exceedingly, to Prinknash1, the individual villa of the abbots of Gloucester — I wished you there with their mitre on. It stands on a glorious but impracticable hill, in the midst of a little forest of beech, and commanding Elysium. The house is small, but has good rooms, and though modernized here and there, not extravagantly. On the ceiling of the hall is Edward IVth's jovial device, a faucon serrure. The chapel is low and small, but antique, and with painted glass, with many angels in their corona tion robes, i. e. wings and crowns. Henry VIII and Jane Seymour lay here ; in the dining-room are their arms in glass, and of Catherine of Arragon, and of Bray and Bridges. Under a window, a barbarous bas-relief head of Harry, young; as it is still on a sign at an ale-house, on the descent of the hill. Think of my amazement, when they showed me the chapel plate, and I found on it, on four pieces, my own arms, quartering my mother-in-law Skerret's, and in a shield of pretence, those of Fortescue, certainly by mistake for those of my sister-in-law, as the barony of Clinton was in abeyance between her and Fortescue Lord Clinton 2. The whole is modern and blundered, for Skerret should be impaled, not quartered, and instead of our crest, are two spears tied together in a ducal coronet, and no coronet for my brother, in whose time this plate must have been made, and at whose sale it was probably bought, as he finished the repairs of the church at Houghton, for which, I suppose, this decoration was intended — but the silversmith was no herald, you see. As I descended the hill, I found in a wretched cottage a child in an ancient oaken cradle, exactly in the form of that lately published from the cradle of Edward II — I pur chased it for five shillings, but don't know whether I shall Letter 1553. — l Near Painswick. 2 See Table L 30 To the Rev. William Cole [mi have fortitude enough to transport it to Strawberry Hill — people would conclude me in my second childhood. To-day I have been at Berkeley and Thornbury Castles. The first disappointed me much, though very entire. It is much smaller than I expected, but very entire, except a small part burnt two years ago, while the present Earl was in the house. The fire began in the housekeeper's room, who never appeared more ; but as she was strict over the servants, and not a bone of her was found, it was supposed that she was murdered, and the body conveyed away. The situation is not elevated nor beautiful, and little improve ments made of late, but some silly ones a la chinoise by the present Dowager*. In good sooth, I can give you but a very imperfect account, for instead of the Lord's being gone to dine with the Mayor of Gloucester, as I expected, I found him in the midst of all his captains of the militia. I am so sillily shy of strangers and youngsters, that I hurried through the chambers, and looked for nothing but the way out of every room. I just observed that there were many bad portraits of the family, but none ancient, as if the Berkeleys had been commissaries, and raised themselves in the last war. There is a plentiful addition of those of Lord Berkeley of Stratton ; but no Knights Templars, or barons as old as Edward I. Yet are there three beds on which there may have been as frisky doings three centuries ago, as there probably have been within these ten years. The room shown for the murder of Edward II, and the ' shrieks of an agonizing King ,' I verily believe to be genuine. It is a dismal chamber, almost at top of the house, quite detached, and to be approached only by a kind of foot bridge, and from that descends a large flight of steps that » The Dowager Countess of Berke- ' The shrieks of death, thro' Berke ley married secondly Robert (after- ley's roofs that ring, wards Earl) Nugent. Shrieks of an agonizing King ! ' « See The Bard:— 1774] To the Rev. William Cole 31 terminate on strong gates ; exactly a situation for a corps de garde. In that room they show you a cast of a face in plaster, and tell you it was taken from Edward's. I was not quite so easy of faith about that, for it is evidently the face of Charles I. The steeple of the church, lately rebuilt handsomely, stands some paces from the body : in the latter are three tombs of the old Berkeleys, with cumbent figures. The wife of the Lord Berkeley" who was supposed to be privy to the murder has a curious headgear: it is like a long horseshoe, quilted in quaterfoils, and, like Lord Foppington's wig, allows no more than the breadth of a half-crown to be discovered of the face. Stay, I think I mistake; the husband was a conspirator against Eichard II, not Edward; but in those days loyalty was not so rife as at present. From Berkeley Castle I went to Thornbury8, of which the ruins are half ruined. It would have been glorious, if finished — I wish the Lords of Berkeley had retained the spirit of deposing till Harry the VHIth's time! The situation is fine, though that was not the fashion, for all the windows of the great apartment look into the inner court — the prospect was left to the servants. Here I had two adventures. I could find nobody to show me about. I saw a paltry house that I took for the sexton's, at the corner of the close, and bade my servant ring and ask who could show me the castle. A voice in a passion flew from a casement, and issued from a divine — 'What! was it his business to show the castle ? Go look for somebody else ! What did the fellow ring for, as if the house was on fire?' 5 Thomas Berkeley (d. 1361), eighth before the accession of Richard II. Baron Berkeley. The effigy is that * The remains of a castle begun of his second wife, Catherine Clive- by Edward Stafford (1478-1521), don, widow of Sir Peter le Veel. third Duke of Buckingham, executed Lord Berkeley figured in the reigns for high treason in the reign of of Edward II and m. He died Henry Till. 32 To the Rev. William Cole [mi The poor Swiss came back in a fright, and said the doctor had sworn at him. Well ! we scrambled over a stone stile, saw a room or two glazed near the gate, and rung at it. A damsel came forth, and satisfied our curiosity. When we had done seeing, I said, ' Child, we don't know our way, and want to be directed into the London road: I see the Duke's 7 steward yonder at the window ; pray desire him to come to me, that I may consult him.' She went, he stood staring at us at the window — and sent his footman. I do not think courtesy is resident at Thornbury. As I returned through the close, the divine came running out of breath, and without his beaver or bands, and calls out, ' Sir, I am come to justify myself ; your servant says I swore at him, I am no swearer — Lord bless me ! (dropping his voice) is it Mr. Walpole ? ' ' Yes, Sir, and I think you was Lord Beau champ's tutor at Oxford, but I have forgot your name.' — ' Holwell 8, Sir.' ' Oh yes ' and then I comforted him, and laid the ill-breeding on my footman's being a foreigner, but could not help saying, I really had taken his house for the sexton's. — ' Yes, Sir, it is not very good without, won't you please to walk in?' I did, and found the inside ten times worse, and a lean wife, suckling a child. He was making an index to Homer, is going to publish the chief beauties, and I believe had just been reading some of the delicate civilities that pass between Agamemnon and Achilles, and that what my servant took for oaths were only Greek compliments. Adieu ! You see I have not a line more of paper. Yours ever, H.W. 7 The Duke of Norfolk, who bought 1798). He published The Beauties of the castle and manor of Thornbury Homer, selected from the Iliad, in from the fourth Earl of Stafford. 1775. 8 Rev. WiUiam Holwell (1726- 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 33 1553. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 18, 1774. It is very hard, that because you do not get my letters, you will not let me receive yours, who do receive them. I have not had a line from you these five weeks. Of your honours and glories fame has told me * ; and for aught I know, you may be a veldPmarshal by this time, and despise such a poor cottager as me. Take notice, I shall disclaim you in my turn, if you are sent on a command against Dantzic, or to usurp a new district in Poland. I have seen no armies, kings, or empresses, and cannot send you such august gazettes; nor are they what I want to hear of. I like to hear you are well and diverted ; nay, have pimped towards the latter, by desiring Lady Ailesbury to send you Monsieur de Guisnes's invitation to a military fete at Metz2. For my part, I wish you was returned to your plough. Your Sabine farm3 is in high beauty. I have lain there twice within this week, going to and from a visit to George Selwyn, near Gloucester: a tour as much to my taste as yours to you. For fortified towns I have seen ruined castles. Unluckily, in that of Berkeley I found a whole regiment of militia in garrison, and as many young officers as if the Countess* was in possession, and ready to surrender at indiscretion. I endeavoured to comfort my self by figuring that they were guarding Edward II. I have seen many other ancient sights without asking leave of the King of Prussia : it would not please me so much to write to him, as it once did to write for him B. Letter 1553. — 1 Alluding to the Walpole. distinguished notice taken of General 3 Park Place. Walpole. Conway by the King of Prussia. * The Countess of Berkeley. Walpole. 6 Alluding to the letter to Rous- 2 To see the review of the French seau in the name of the King of regiment of Carabineers, then com- Prussia. Walpole, manded by Monsieur de Guinea. walpole. ix D 34 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi They have found at least seventy thousand pounds of Lord Thomond's". George Howard7 has decked himself with a red riband, money, and honours ! Charming things ! and yet one may be very happy without them. The young Mr. Coke 8 is returned from his travels in love with the Pretender's queen9, who has permitted him to have her picture. What can I tell you more? Nothing. Indeed, if I only write to postmasters, my letter is long enough. Everybody's head but mine is full of elections. I had the satisfaction at Gloucester, where George Selwyn is canvassing, of reflecting on my own wisdom. Suave mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis, &c. I am certainly the greatest philosopher in the world, without ever having thought of being so : always employed, and never busy : eager about trifles, and indifferent to everything serious. Well, if it is not philosophy, at least it is content. I am as pleased here with my own nutshell, as any monarch you have seen these two months astride his eagle — not but I was dissatisfied when I missed you at Park Place, and was peevish at your being in an Aulic chamber. Adieu ! Yours ever, Hob. Walpole. P.S. They tell us from Vienna that the peace is made between Tisiphone and the Turk : is it true 10 ? 8 Percy Wyndham O'Brien. He Chelsea Hospital ; Field Marshal, was the second son of Sir William 1793. Wyndham, the Chancellor of the 8 Thomas William Coke (1754- Exchequer to Queen Anne, and took 1842), created Earl of Leicester in the name of O'Brien pursuant to the 1837. will of his uncle the Earl of Tho- 9 The Countess of Albany. mond in Ireland. Walpole. 10 Peace between the Turks and 7 Lieutenant-General Sir George Russians was signed on July 21, Howard (d. 1796), of the family of 1774. the Earls of Effingham, Governor of 1774] To the Rev. William Mason 35 1554. To the Eev. William Mason. Excuse me, but I cannot take your advice, nor intend to print any more for the public. When I offer you my press it is most selfishly, and to possess your writings, for I would only print a few copies for your friends and mine. My last volume of the Anecdotes of Painting has long been finished, and as a debt shall some time or other be published, but there I take my leave of Messieurs the readers. Let Dr. Johnson please this age with the fustian of his style, and the meanness of his spirit; both are good and great enough for the taste and practice predominant. I think this country sinking fast into ruin ; and when it is become an absolute monarchy and thence insignificant, I do not desire to be remembered by slaves, and in a French province. I would not be Virgil or Boileau on such conditions. Present amusement is all my object in reading, writing, or printing. To gratify the first especially, I wish to see your poem finished : You, who erewhile the happy garden sung, continue to sing Eecovered Paradise ! I am less impatient for Gray's Life, being sure of seeing it, whether published or not: and as I conclude neither his letters nor Latin poems will be admired to the height they deserve, I am jealous of his fame, and do not like its being cast before swine. In short, I wish his and your writings to meet with a fate that not many years ago was reckoned an ignominy, that they may be sent to the colonies ! for Arts and sciences will travel west and The sad Nine in Britain's evil hour will embark for America. D 2 36 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [mi I have been in Gloucestershire, and can add a little to the catalogue, having seen Berkeley Castle, Thornbury Castle, and a charming small old house of the abbots of Gloucester. Indeed I could not enjoy the first, for the Earl was in it with all his militia, and dispelled visions. To Wentworth Castle I shall certainly make no visit this year. If I went any journey it would be to Paris ; but indolence persisting in her apprehensions of the gout, though I have had no symptoms of it for some time, will fix me here and here abouts. I discover charms in idleness that I never had a notion of before, and perceive that age brings pleasures as well as takes away. There is a serenity in having nothing to do, that is delicious : I am persuaded that little princes assumed the title of Serene Highness from that sensation. Your assured friend, Horace le Faineant. Given at our Castle of Nonsuch, Aug. 23, 1774. Salute our trusty and well-beloved the Palsgrave1 on our part. 1555. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Monday night, Aug. 23, 1774. Your Ladyship's letter did not arrive till I was gone to Goodwood, and sat here quietly till I returned to-night, for as my voyages and travels are seldom longer than a parenthesis, I never oblige my dispatches to follow me. Though you do not ask, I am sure you wish to know what I heard of the Duchess of Leinster \ Not a word was men tioned. Last night the Duke received a letter to tell him Letter 1554. -1 Mason's friend, married secondly (about this time) the Rev. William Palgrave. William Ogilvie, her sons' tutor. Letter 1555. — l Emilia Lennox, The match was strongly disapproved widow of the first Duke of Leinster, of by her family. 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 37 his niece s is married to Lord Bellamont. Lady A.s asked the Duchess of E.4 about the mother. She said they had heard the report, but did not believe it; and indeed they were all in such good spirits, that I cannot think they give any credit to the marriage. I saw charming Lady Sarah 6, who is a little fatter, but as fresh and beautiful as ever : her little girl is sweetly pretty and lively. We had much billiards, music, loo, and company ; I could take no part in the two first ; I love most of the last, that I know, and as there were two or three children, and two- or three-and-forty dogs, I could not want amusement, for I generally prefer both to what the common people call Christians. I like all the account you give me, Madam, but of your nerves, and of those I don't at all despair. When Madame de Trop 6 ceases to be the youngest of your race, I dare to say I shall love her, especially when Lady Anne begins to love her less than her brother ; but, remember, a brother is the sine qua non of my reconciliation. I don't pretend to call this a letter, it is only a note, I know ; but what can I tell you, Madam, from country- houses? or is anything so bad as a letter when one has really no news, and nothing particular to say ? P.S. I had sealed my letter, but open it again that your 2 Lady Emilia Maria Margaret Goodwood, where her brother, the Fitzgerald, eldest daughter of first Duke of Richmond, built her a small Duke of Leinster; m. (Aug. 20, 1774) house in the park, called Halnaker. Charles Coote, first Earl of Bellamont. The daughter mentioned above bore ' The Countess of Ailesbury. the surname of Bunbury, although * The Duchess of Richmond, she was not the child of Sir Charles sister-in-law of the Duchess of Bunbury. She died of consumption, Leinster. unmarried, in 1785, four years after 6 Lady Sarah Bunbury was sepa- Lady Sarah's marriage to Hon. rated from her husband, from whom George Napier. she eloped in 1769 with Lord William 6 Lady Gertrude Fitzpatrick (born Gordon. She was divorced from Sir in August 1774), the youngest of Charles Bunbury in 1776. She was Lord Ossory's two daughters. She at this time living in retirement at died unmarried in 1811. 38 To Sir Horace Mann [mi Ladyship may have the freshest intelligence of the following great news — very important, at least, to my friends in France. In a postscript 7 1 have just received are these words : — 'Choses nouvelles et tres certaines, M. Terray est exile a la Motte. M Turgot a les Finances. M. de Sartine la Marine. La Police n'est point donnee. M. le Chancelier 8 est exile pour trois jours a la Bruiere, au bout desquels trois jours il a ordre d'aller dans une de ses terres beaucoup plus eloignees. M. de Miromenil9, ci-devant Premier President de Eouen, est Garde des Sceaux, et Vice-Chancelier.' — I am going to make a French bonfire. 1556. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 2, 1774. You think I write seldom, my dear Sir, but how can I help it? Not seldomer, I hope, than in other peaceful summers. In vacations of London and Parliament, little happens weighty enough to bear so long a journey. This season has been singularly barren. Perhaps events may thicken, which, prosperous or not, are equally propitious to correspondences. The scene in America, they say, grows very gloomy ; Caesar * frowns on the Elector of Hanover ; but I know neither Atlantic nor German politics. You tell me what the Turks and Eussians are to do next, but before I received your letter, I could have told you that they have agreed to do nothing more — which is much about what they have been doing all the war. Well, still one has something to live upon. The King of France has at last spoken out ; both the Chancellor and Terray 2 are banished, and the old 7 See letter of Madame du Deffand Letter 1556. — > The Emperor dis- to Horace Walpole of Aug. 24, 1774. agreeing with the King on German 8 Maupeou. politics. Walpole. 9 Armand Thomas Hue de Miro- 2 The AbbS Terray, Comptroller- mesnil (1723-1796). General of the Finances. Walpole. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 39 Parliament restored, or to be restored. As little as I care about the revolutions of the great planets, I am mightily pleased with this convulsion. I like old constitutions re covering themselves ; and I abhorred the Chancellor, a con summate villain, who would have served Alexander VI and Caesar Borgia too, and wished no better than to have restored St. Ignatius and St. Nero. This young King is exceedingly in my good graces ; and may gain my whole heart whenever he pleases, if he will but release Madame du Barri, for, though the tool of a vile faction, I would not be angry with a street-walker ; nor make no difference between Thais and Fredegonde ; between Con Phillips 3 and the Czarina. By the way, one hears no more of my friend Pugatscheff ; yet perhaps he contributed to this peace. It is now part of my plan that the King of France should dethrone that woman, and their Majesties of Prussia and Sweden, and restore Corsica — not to the Genoese, but to themselves. You may think all this a great deal, but it is not a quarter so difficult as conquering oneself, and relinquishing despotism. It is a greater victory to make happy than miserable ; but then what glorious rewards ! Think, how contemptible the end of Louis the Well-beloved, how bright the dawn of Louis XVI ! Can any power taste so sweet as this single word on the statue of Henri Quatre, Besurrexit? And then, what a blessed retirement the Chancellor's! How he must enjoy himself, when the loss of power is sweetened with the curses of a whole nation, who have not cursed him in vain ! My whole heart makes a bonfire on this occasion. What a century, which sees the Jesuits annihilated, and absolute power relinquished ! I begin to believe in the millennium, when the just shall reign on earth. I scorn to say a word more, or profane such a subject with heathen topics. Adieu ! 3 Teresia Constantia Phillips (d. personage, who published an Apology 1765), a notorious and disreputable for her conduct in 1748. 40 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi P.S. My affection for your concerns betrays me into a weakness ; I cannot help being so irreligious as to tell you that you are to have a new neighbour, though not very soon ; Lord Carlisle is to succeed Mr. Lynch at Turin *¦ 1557. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 7, 1774. I did not think you had been so like the rest of the world, as, when you pretended to be visiting armies, to go in search of gold and silver mines 1 ! The favours of courts and the smiles of emperors and kings, I see, have corrupted even you, and perverted you to a nabob. Have you brought away an ingot in the calf of your leg ? What abomination have you committed ? All the gazettes in Europe have sent you on different negotiations : instead of returning with a treaty in your pocket, you will only come back with bills of ex change. I don't envy your subterraneous travels, nor the hospitality of the Hungarians. Where did you find a spoonful of Latin about you? I have not attempted to speak Latin these thirty years, without perceiving I was talking Italian thickened with terminations in us and orum. I should have as little expected to find an Ovid in those regions ; but I suppose the gentry of Presburg read him for a fashionable author, as our 'squires and their wives do the last collections of ballads that have been sung at Vauxhall and Marybone. I wish you may have brought away some sketches of Duke Albert's 2 architecture. You know I deal in the works of royal authors, though I have never admired any of their own buildings, not excepting King Solomon's 4 This report proved untrue. of Gran in Hungary. Walpole. Letter 1557.— 1 Mr. Conway had a Probably Albert, Duke of Saxe- gone to see the gold and silver mines Teschen, son-in-law of the Empress of Cremnitz, in the neighbourhood Maria Theresa. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 41 Temple. Stanley3 and Edmondson in Hungary! What carried them thither ? The chase of mines, too ? The first, perhaps, waddled thither obliquely, as a parrot would have done whose direction was to Naples. Well, I am glad you have been entertained, and seen such a variety of sights. You don't mind fatigues and hardships, and hospitality, the two extremes that to me poison travelling. I shall never see anything more, unless I meet with a ring that renders one invisible. It was but the other day that, being with George Selwyn at Gloucester, I went to view Berkeley Castle, knowing the Earl was to dine with the Mayor of Gloucester. Alas ! when I arrived, he had put off the party to enjoy his militia a day longer, and the house was full of oflicers. They might be in the Hungarian dress, for aught I knew; for I was so dismayed, that I would fain have' persuaded the housekeeper that she could not show me the apartments; and when she opened the hall, and I saw it full of captains, I hid myself in a dark passage, and nothing could persuade me to enter, till they had the civility to quit the place. When I was forced at last to go over the castle, I ran through it without seeing anything, as if I had been afraid of being detained prisoner. I have no news to send you : if I had any, I would not conclude, as all correspondents do, that Lady Ailesbury left nothing untold. Lady Powis is gone to hold mobs at Ludlow, where there is actual war, and where a Might, I forget his name, one of their friends, has been almost cut in two with a scythe. When you have seen all the other armies in Europe, you will be just in time for many election- battles— perhaps, for a war in America, whither more troops are going. Many of those already sent have deserted ; and to be sure the prospect there is not smiling. Apropos, Lord 3 Mr. Hans Stanley. Walpole. 4:2 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [mi Mahon *, whom Lord Stanhope, his father, will not suffer to wear powder beeause wheat is so dear, was presented t'other day in coal-black hair and a white feather : they said ' he had been tarred and feathered? In France you will find a new scene 6. The Chancellor is sent, a little before his time, to the devil. The old Parlia ment is expected back. I am sorry to say I shall not meet you there. It will be too late in the year for me to venture, especially as I now live in dread of my biennial gout, and should die of it in an hotel garni, and forced to receive all comers — I, who you know lock myself up when I am ill as if I had the plague. I wish I could fill my sheet, in return for your five pages. The only thing you will care for knowing is, that I never saw Mrs. Damer better in her life, nor look so well. You may trust me, who am so apt to be frightened about her. 1558. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. MADAM, Strawberry Hill, Sept. 14, 1774. ' Methinks an JSsop's fable you relate,' as Dryden says in The Hind and Panther. A mouse that wraps itself in a French cloak and sleeps on a couch ; and a goldfinch that taps at the window and swears it will come in to quadrille at eleven o'clock at night ! no, no, these are none of iEsop's cattle ; they are too fashionable to have lived so near the Creation. The mouse is neither country mouse nor city mouse ; and whatever else he may be, the goldfinch must be a Maccaroni, or at least of the Scavoir vivre \ I do not deny but I have some skill in expounding types and portents ; and could give a shrewd guess at the identical persons who have 4 Charles Stanhope (1753-1816), science. Viscount Mahon j succeeded his 6 Upon the death of Louis XV. father as third Earl Stanhope in Walpole. 1786. He was noted for his Repub- Letter 1558. — 1 A fashionable lican views, and for his interest in club. 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 43 travestied themselves into a quadruped and biped ; but the truth is, I have no mind, Madam, to be Prime Minister. King Pharaoh is mighty apt on emergencies to send for us soothsayers, and put the whole kingdom into our hands, if his butler or baker, with whom he is wont to gossip, does but tell him of a cunning man. I have no ambition to supplant Lord North — especially as the season approaches when I dread the gout ; and I should be very sorry to be fetched out of my bed to pacify America. To be sure, Madam, you give me a fair field for uttering oracles : however, all I will unfold is, that the emblematic animals have no views on Lady Louisa 2. The omens of her fortune are in herself; and I will burn my books, if beauty, sense, and merit do not bestow all the happiness on her they prognosticate. I can as little agree to the Duchess of M.'s solution of the Duchess of L.'s marriage, which, by the way, is at least not over yet. Nor do I believe, whatever mamma hnows, that she will agree to it either ; and, for this reason, the efficacy of pregnancy on a delicate constitution is no lasting nostrum. A husband would be but a temporary preservative, and use less, when the operations of the remedy could not possibly be of any service. Alas ! is a poor sick lady to leave off the drug when it can no longer produce the wholesome tumour on the patient ! I doubt the Duchess of M. did not advert to the vicinity of that hopeless season in the Duchess of L., or I think her Grace would not have laid down a position from which such disagreeable consequences might be drawn. I like the blue eyes, Madam, better than the denomination of Lady Gertrude Fitzpatrick, which, all respectable as it is, 2 Lady Louisa Fitzpatrick (d. 1789), cond wife, William Petty, second daughterof first Earl of Upper Ossory, Earl of Shelburne, who was created and sister-in-law of Horace Walpole's Marquis of Lansdowne in 1784. correspondent; m. (1779), as his se- 44 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [mi is very harsh and rough sounding ; pray let her change it with the first goldfinch that offers. Nay, I do not even trust to the blueth of the eyes. I do not believe they last once in twenty times. One cannot go into any village fifty miles from London without seeing a dozen little children with flaxen hair and eyes of sky-blue. What becomes of them all ? One does not see a grown Christian with them twice in a century, except in poetry. The Strawberry Gazette is very bar ren of news. Mr. Garrick has the gout, which is of more consequence to the metropolis than to Twitnamshire. Lady Hertford dined here last Satur day, brought her loo party, and stayed supper ; there were Lady Mary Coke, Mrs. Howe, and the Colonels Maude and Keene. This was very heroic, for one is robbed every hundred yards. Lady Hertford herself was attacked last Wednesday on Hounslow Heath at three in the afternoon, but she had two servants on horseback, who would not let her be robbed, and the highwayman decamped. The greatest event I know was a present I received last Sunday, just as I was going to dine at Lady Blandford's, to whom I sacrificed it. It was a bunch of grapes as big — as big — as that the two spies earried on a pole to Joshua ; for spies in those days, when they robbed a vineyard, were not at all afraid of being overtaken. In good truth this bunch weighed three pounds and a half, cote rotie measure ; and was sent to me by my neighbour Prado, of the tribe of Issachar, who is descended from one of foresaid spies, but a good deal richer than his ancestor. Well, Madam, I carried it to the Marchioness, but gave it to the maitre d'hdtel, with injunctions to conceal it till the dessert. At the end of dinner, Lady Blandford said she had heard of three immense bunches of grapes at Mr. Prado's at a dinner he had made for Mr. Ellis. I said those things were always exaggerated. She cried, Oh ! but Mrs. Ellis told it, and it weighed I don't 1774] To the Rev. William Mason 45 know how many pounds, and the Duke of Argyle had been to see the hothouse, and she wondered, as it was so near, I would not go and see it. ' Not I, indeed,' said I ; ' I dare to say there is no curiosity in it.' Just then entered the gigantic bunch. Everybody screamed. ' There, ' said I, ' I will be shot if Mr. Prado has such a bunch as yours.' In short, she suspected Lady Egremont, and the adventure succeeded to admiration. If you will send the Bedfordshire waggon, Madam, I will beg a dozen grapes for you. Mr. Barker may pretend what he will, but if he liked Strawberry Hill so well, he would have visited it again, and by daylight. He could see no more of it at nine o'clock at night than he does at this moment. Pray, Madam, is not it Farming Woods' 8 tide ? Who is to have the care of the dear mouse in your absence ? I wish I could spare Margaret, who loves all creatures so well that she would have been happy in the ark, and sorry when the Deluge eeased; unless people had come to see Noah's old house, which she would have liked still better than cramming his menagerie. Postscript, entre nous. Have you heard that certain verses have been read inadvertently to the D. of Gr.4 ? I long to know, but cannot learn who was the ingenious person. 1559. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 16, 1774. What is the commonest thing in the world ? — Lord ! how can you be so dull as not to guess ? why to be sure, to hunt for a thing forty times, and give it over, and then find it when you did not look for it, exactly where you had hunted forty times. This happened to me this very morning, 3 Lord Ossory's seat in Northamp- * The Duke of Grafton, Lady tonshire. Ossory's former husband. 46 To John Fenn [mi and overjoyed I am. I suppose you don't guess what I have found ? Eeally, Mr. Mason, you great poets are so absent, and so unlike the rest of the world ! Why what should I have found, but the thing in the world that was most worth finding? a hidden treasure — a hidden fig; no, Sir, not the certificate of the Duchess of Kingston's first marriage, nor the lost books of Livy, nor the longitude, nor the philo sopher's stone, nor all Charles Fox has lost. I tell you it is what I have searched for a thousand times, and had rather have found than the longitude, if it was a thousand times longer. Oh, you do guess, do you? I thought I never lost anything in my life. I was sure I had them, and so I had ; and now am I not a good soul, to sit down and send you a copy incontinently ? Don't be too much obliged to me neither. I am in a panic till there are more copies than mine, and as the post does not go till to-morrow, I am in terror lest the house should be burnt to-night. I have a mind to go and bury a transcript in the field ; but then if I should be burnt too ! nobody would know where to look for it. WelL here it is ! I think your decorum will not hold it proper to be printed in the Life, nor would I have it. We will preserve copies, and the devil is in it, if some time or other it don't find its way to the press. My copy is in his own handwriting; but who could doubt it: I know but one man upon earth who could have written it but Gray1. 1560. To John Fenn. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1774. I am much obliged to you, Sir, for your accurate drawing and description of your picture, and wish I could say any- Letter 1559. — i The original lines should be modified. letter ends with a copy of Gray's Letter 1560. — Not in C. j now first verses, Jemmy Twitcher : or, the Cam- printed from original in possession bridge Courtship, and a suggestion of Mr. Arthur H. Frere. that the coarseness of the last two 1774] To John Fenn 47 thing satisfactory enough to ascertain whose portrait it is. You will forgive me if I suggest doubts that do not tend to corroborate your opinion ; and you must excuse them, as I have never seen the picture itself. By the general look and dress I should have concluded it drawn in the reign of Henry 8th, or at soonest of Henry 7th. The dress is extremely like those of the former's time, and at present I cannot recollect having seen any such even in the time of Edward 4th, when, and in Henry 6th's time, they seem to have worn loose robes, and especially not such close sleeves. The red rose is a leading presumption that it represents some prince of the house of Lancaster, though perhaps it is no certain criterion. It was pretty common under Henry 8th to give a flower in the hand. Edward the Sixth is drawn with a pink. Still I am persuaded that during the reign of Edward 4th and Eichard 3rd nobody would have cared to bear a red rose. That the picture represents the Duke of Gloucester or Exeter I much question, as the distinction of the roses was certainly not adopted so early as the time of the latter, and I imagine not even in that of the former, nor till Eichard Duke of York, father of Edward 4th, declared his pretensions. When the two roses were generally used as party distinctions they may have been borne by the partisans of each faction from zeal, and in that case the portrait would not necessarily exhibit a prince of Lancaster, but only a zealous adherent. This is mere conjecture. But I do think that, supposing it a Lancastrian prince, it is one that lived after the accession of Henry 7th, when the red rose was become a very courtly cognizance. For instance, it may represent John Viscount Wells, who was related to Henry 7th, and having married a daughter of Edward 4th might choose to mark his attach ment to the red rose, for fear of being suspected in that 48 To John Fenn [1774 jealous time of being too partial to his wife's family. There is another person whom I think it still more likely to repre sent, which is Sir Charles Somerset1, afterwards Earl of Worcester, of the bastard line as Harry 7th himself was, and ancestor of the Dukes of Beaufort. I know no man either in that reign or the subsequent so likely to have affected that royal badge, both as it flattered the King's and his own very scanty pretensions to blood royal. If we suppose it, as I own the dress inclines me to think, of the reign of Henry 8th, I can find nobody whom it so probably exhibits as Edward Stafford, the last Duke of Buckingham, a true prince of the blood, and who aiming at the crown, and being also, by his grandmother 2 1 think, descended from the Somersets, might affect the red rose, the only royal cognizance of which the Henrys were not jealous. I could still hint at another person, supposing the picture painted in the reign of Henry 7th, who was very likely to give the cognizance of Lancaster ; I mean, his uncle, Jasper Duke of Bedford. In short, Sir, I fear we may multiply conjectures, and yet not ascertain the specific person intended, as there are only marks enough to furnish guesses, and we have not lights from that age sufficient to identify the person. I wish I could have given you better assistance ; but I had rather leave obscurities in their darkness than, as most antiquaries do, pronounce rashly. Truth is the sole merit of most antiquities ; and when we cannot discover the truth, what value is there in dogmatic error about things that have no intrinsic value ? — and such were all our pictures before 1 Natural son of Henry Somerset, 2 The grandmother of the Duke of third Duke of Beaufort, whose sur- Buckingham was Lady Joan Beau- name he assumed. He was created fort, the legitimated daughter of Earl of Worcester in 1514, and died John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster in 1526. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 49 Holbein, and infinitely the greater part of our pictures since ! Mr. Granger, I see by the papers, has published his Supplement. I have not yet received it. I am sorry his bookseller has quoted me for the list of unengraved portraits. It did not deserve such parade. I am, Sir, Your obedient humble servant, Hor. Walpole. 1561. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 18, 1774. What I am going to say to you you must manage with the greatest prudence, that is, with your usual discretion and good sense. I was this morning with your brother at Eichmond. He made grievous complaints of your nephew. The chief points of resentment were these: first, that Sir Horace before he went abroad would take all his own affairs into his own hands, which before your brother conducted. I could not hold this so very unreasonable. Secondly, that he had taken away with him 900Z. that your brother had paid him, and whatever else he could amass. No great crime in this. Lastly, that great bills came in from Sir Horace's annuitants and creditors, though there is no money to pay them. He thinks, continued your brother, that I will pay his bills, rather than let him be dishonoured, though he already owes me so much. I certainly will not let him be disgraced abroad, especially as that would bring him home — but I will not pay his annuitants here; that I am determined upon. My dear Sir, it would be very impertinent in me to enter Letter 1561. — Not in C ; now first printed from transcript in possession of Earl Waldegrave. WALPOLE. IX E 50 To Sir Horace Mann [mi into this affair, if my motive was not so very good. But obliged as I was to dear Gal, which I never do or can forget, loving him and you as I do, and with great affection to your nephew for your sakes and his own, for I was exceedingly pleased with his good sense and handsome behaviour to me last year, can I know what is of so much consequence to him as his uncle's anger, and not do everything upon earth in my power to prevent the worst consequences from it? What can I do so well as imparting it to you, your nephew's best friend ? You will take the gentlest and fairest oppor tunities of warning him against offending your brother, who you know may not be quite sorry to have cause to be out of humour with him. In short, I need say no more. I leave your nephew's interests in the best hands, I hope ; nay, I think he has too much sense not to see how much it is his own and the interest of his children to pay court to your brother. He must see that you have no interest but his to give this advice. You are as like your brother Gal in attachment to him as you are in everything else — and I hope you find he is like his father in affection to you. Take care your brother knows nothing of this, though it is a very honest secret to endeavour to make his nephew please him. I have little or nothing else to say. I live chiefly here, out of the world, sick of its transactions, and parting with it silently and by degrees. Sorry from humanity for what I see, but as without power of remedying, without curiosity of knowing. The age seems to be growing as ferocious as it is abandoned ; and though morality seldom prevented any excesses, I think all Europe is growing so like its Gothic ancestors, though without the plea certainly of being overpeopled, that to march with vast usurping armies is a sufficient reason for overrunning any neighbouring country. I allude to the Emperor's invasion of the state of Venice. I know nothing of it but from the public papers 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 51 — but why should I not believe it? — Poland bids me believe it, and this other reason ; this bird of prey, this eagle with two beaks1, said lately to young George Grenville, 'As soon as the breath is out of my mother's body, Europe will think me as great an incendiary as the King of Prussia.' — How decent to his mother! Does not she tremble? Do you wonder I think he has not patience to wait for that event ? How sensible too to blab his intentions ! And so the King of Prussia, like other monsters, has disciples already ! I tell you nothing of America, for you see in the papers as much as I know. Here the rage of elections is already begun ; Lord Orford has happily saved me from having any thing to do with them. It would have been the worst thorn his illness could have planted in my side. He has now taken to sailing, and lives three day* and nights together upon the water. If his physicians had ordered him to be dipped in the sea, perhaps it would have been their best prescription. You asked me lately why Mr. Conway was gone abroad. Certainly only to see armies, Prussian, Austrian, and French. The incendiaries, master and scholar, have both been very gracious to him. I had rather visit Etna and Vesuvius, who cannot help making earthquakes. This world is one great Alas! Most men suffer, yet all extol their chief plagues ; yes, thanks to those dogs the litterati ! Adieu ! P.S. I hope Tuscan Secretaries of State do not open letters. Bless me, I should be guilty of laesae Majestatis in half the courts of Europe ! 2nd P.S. I just hear that your Anglo-Florentine Earl 2 is married at last, and to an Englishwoman, nay, and that he 1 It is not at all certain that this one from the same quarter. Walpole. anecdote, which Mr. W. had heard, 2 The third Earl Cowper. See was true ; no more than a preceding p. 64. E 2 52 To John Craufurd [1774 is coming home. This is so odd, that I think it no proof of his being grown more reasonable. 1562. To John Craufurd. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 26, 1774. You tell me to write to you, and I am certainly disposed to do anything I can to amuse you ; but that is not so easy a matter, for two very good reasons : you are not the most amusable of men, and I have nothing to amuse you with, for you are like electricity, you attract and repel at once ; and though you have at first a mind to know anything, you are tired of it before it can be told. I don't go to Almack's nor amongst your acquaintance. Would you bear to hear of mine? of Lady Blandford, Lady Anne Conolly, and the Duchess of Newcastle ? for by age and situation I live at this time of year with nothing but old women. They do very well for me who have little choice left, and who rather prefer common nonsense to wise nonsense — the only differ ence I know between old women and old men. I am out of all politics, and never think of elections, which I think I should hate even if I loved politics ; just as if I loved tapestry I do not think I could talk over the manufacture of worsteds. Books I have almost done with too ; at least, read only such as nobody else would read. In short, my way of life is too insipid to entertain anybody but myself, and though I am always employed, I must say I think I have given up everything in the world only to be at liberty to be very busy about the most arrant trifles. Well ! I have made out half a letter with a history very like the journal in the Spectator, of the man, the chief incidents of whose life were stroking his cat, and walking to Hampstead. Last night, indeed, I had an adventure Letter 1562 — Collated with original in possession of Mr. John W. Ford. 1774] To John Craufurd 53 that would make a great figure in such a narrative. You may be enjoying bright suns and serene horizons under the Pole, but in this dismal southern region it has rained for this month without interruption. Lady Browne and I dined as usually on Sundays with Lady Blandford. Our gentle Thames was swelled in the morning to a very respectable magnitude, and we had thought of returning by Kew Bridge; however, I persuaded her to try if we could not ferry, and when we came to the foot of the hill, the bargemen told us the water was sunk. We embarked and had four men to push the ferry. The night was very dark, for though the moon was up, we could neither see her, nor she us. The bargemen were drunk, the poles would scarce reach the bottom, and in five minutes the rapidity of the current turned the barge round, and in an instant we were at Isle worth. The drunkenest of the men cried out, ' She is gone, she is lost ! ' meaning they had lost the management. Lady Browne fell into an agony, began screaming and praying to Jesus, and every land and water god and goddess, and I, who expected not to stop till we should run against Kew Bridge, was contriving how I should get home; or what was worse, whether I must not step into some mud up to my middle, be wet through, and get the gout. With much ado they recovered the barge and turned it ; but then we ran against the piles of the new bridge, which startled the horses, who began kicking. My Phillis's terrors increased, and I thought every minute she would have begun confession. Thank you, you need not be uneasy ; in ten minutes we landed very safely, and if we had been drowned, I am too exact not to have dated my letter from the bottom of the Thames. There ! there 's a letter ; I think you would not want to read such another, even if written to somebody else. Yours ever, H. W. 54 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi P.S. Pontdeyvelde is dead, and our friend1 fancies she is more sorry than she fancied she should be : but it will make a vacuum in her room rather than in her entertain ment. Arlington Street, Sept. 29. This letter, which should have gone two days ago, but I had no direction, will come untimely, for you will be up to the ears in your canvass2, as the Parliament is to be dissolved the day after to-morrow. 1563. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1774. I should be very ungrateful indeed if I thought of complaining of you, who are goodness itself to me: and when I did not receive letters from you, I concluded it happened from your eccentric positions. I am amazed that, hurried as you have been, and your eyes and thoughts crowded with objects, you have been able to find time to write me so many and such long letters, over and above all those to Lady Ailesbury, your daughter1, brother, and other friends. Even Lord Strafford brags of your frequent remembrance. That your superabundance of royal beams would dazzle you, I never suspected. Even I enjoy for you the distinctions you have received — though I should hate such things for myself, as they are particularly troublesome to me, and I am particularly awkward under them, and as I abhor the King of Prussia, and, if I passed 1 Madame du Deffand, who on inutile de se plaindre, il faut savoir Sept. 4, 1774, wrote to Horace Wai- supporter toutes les situations ou pole on Pontdeveyle's death as fol- l'on se trouve, et se dire que l'on lows : — ' Je fais une tres-grande pourrait §tre encore plus malheu- perte ; une connaissance de ein- reux.' quante-cinq ans, qui etait devenue 2 Craufurd was elected for Ren- une liaison intime, est irreparable. frewshire on Oct. 24, 1774. Qu'est-ce que sont celles que l'on Letter 1563. — l Hon. Mrs. Damer. forme a mon age? Mais il est 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 55 through Berlin, should have no joy like avoiding him—like one of our countrymen, who changed horses at Paris, and asked what the name of that town was. All the other civilities you have received I am perfectly happy in. The Germans are certainly a civil, well-meaning people, and, I believe, one of the least corrupted nations in Europe. I don't think them very agreeable ; but who do I think are so ? A great many Frenchwomen, some Englishmen, and a few Englishwomen; exceedingly few Frenchmen. Italian women are the grossest, vulgarest of the sex. If an Italian man has a grain of sense, he is a buffoon. So much for Europe ! I have already told you, and so must Lady Ailesbury, that my courage fails me, and I dare not meet you at Paris. As the period is arrived when the gout used to come, it is never a moment out of my head. Such a suffering, such a helpless condition as I was in for five months and a half, two years ago, makes me tremble from head to foot. I should die at once if seized in a French inn ; or what, if possible, would be worse, at Paris, where I must admit everybody — I, who you know can hardly bear to see even you when I am ill, and who shut up myself here, and would not let Lord and Lady Hertford come near me — I, who have my room washed though in bed, how could I bear French dirt ? In short, I, who am so capricious, and whom you are pleased to call a philosopher, I suppose because I have given up everything but my own will — how could I keep my temper, who have no way of keeping my temper but by keeping it out of everybody's way ! No, I must give up the satisfaction of being with you at Paris. I have just learnt to give up my pleasures, but I cannot give up my pains, which such selfish people as I, who have suffered much, grow to compose into a system that they are partial to, because it is their own. I must make myself 56 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi amends when you return: you will be more stationary, I hope, for the future ; and if I live I shall have intervals of health. In lieu of me, you will have a charming succedaneum, Lady Harriet Stanhope. Her father2, who is more a hero than I, is packing up his decrepit bones, and goes too. I wish she may not have him to nurse, instead of diverting herself. The present state of your country is that it is drowned and dead drunk ; all water without, and wine within. Opposition for the next elections everywhere, even in Scotland ; not from party, but as laying out money to advantage. In the head quarters, indeed, party is not out of the question: the day after to-morrow will be a great bustle in the City for a Lord Mayor *, and all the winter in Westminster, where Lord Mahon and Humphrey Cotes oppose the court. Lady Powis is saving her money at Ludlow and Powis Castles by keeping open house day and night against Sir Watkin Williams, and fears she shall be kept there till the general election. It has rained this whole month, and we have got another inundation. The Thames is as broad as your Danube, and all my meadows are under water. Lady Browne and I, coming last Sunday night from Lady Blandford's, were in a piteous plight. The ferry-boat was turned round by the current, and carried to Isleworth. Then we ran against the piers of our new bridge, and the horses were frightened. Luckily, my cicisbeo was a Catholic, and screamed to so many saints, that some of them at the nearest ale-house came and saved us, or I should have had no more gout, or what I dreaded I should ; for I concluded we should be carried ashore somewhere, and be forced to wade through the mud up to my middle. So you see one may wrap oneself up in 2 The Earl of Harrington. s When Mr. Wilkes was elected. Walpole. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 57 flannel and be in danger, without visiting all the armies on the face of the globe, and putting the immortality of one's chaise to the proof. I am ashamed of sending you but three sides of smaller paper in answer to seven large — but what can I do ? I see nothing, know nothing, do nothing. My castle is finished, I have nothing new to read, I am tired of writing, I have no new or old bit for my printer. I have only black hoods around me ; or, if I go to town, the family party in Grosvenor Street4. One trait will give you a sample of how I pass my time, and made me laugh, as it put me in mind of you ; at least it was a fit of absence, much more likely to have happened to you than to me. I was playing at eighteenpenny tredrille with the Duchess of Newcastle and Lady Browne, and certainly not much interested in the game. I cannot recollect nor conceive what I was thinking of, but I pushed the cards very gravely to the Duchess, and said, 'Doctor, you are to deal.' You may guess at their astonishment, and how much it made us all laugh. I wish it may make you smile a moment, or that I had anything better to send you. Adieu. Most affectionately yours ever, Hor. Walpole. 1564. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 28, 1774. Lady Ailesbury brings you this \ which is not a letter, but a paper of directions, and the counterpart of what I have written to Madame du Deffand. I beg of you seriously to take a great deal of notice of this dear old friend of mine. She will, perhaps, expect more attention from you, as my * Lord Hertford's. Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer Letter 1564. — I Mr. Conway ended went to meet him, and where they his military tour at Paris, whither spent the winter together. Walpole. 58 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi friend, and as it is her own nature a little, than will be quite convenient to you : but you have an infinite deal of patience and good nature, and will excuse it. I was afraid of her importuning Lady Ailesbury, who has a vast deal to see and do, and, therefore, I have prepared Madame du Deffand, and told her Lady Ailesbury loves amusements, and that, having never been at Paris before, she must not confine her : so you must pay for both — and it will answer: and I do not, I own, ask this only for Madame du Deffand's sake, but for my own, and a little for yours. Since the late King's death she has not dared to write to me freely, and I want to know the present state of France exactly, both to satisfy my own curiosity, and for her sake, as I wish to learn whether her pension, &c, is in any danger from the present ministry, some of whom are not her friends. She can tell you a great deal if she will — by that I don't mean that she is reserved, or partial to her own country against ours — quite the contrary ; she loves me better than all France together — but she hates politics: and therefore, to make her talk on it, you must tell her it is to satisfy me, and that I want to know whether she is well at court, whether she has any fears from the government, particularly from Maurepas and Nivernois : and that I am eager to have Monsieur de Choiseul and ma grand'maman, the Duchess, restored to power. If you take it on this foot easily, she will talk to you with the utmost frankness and with amazing cleverness. I have told her you are strangely absent, and that, if she does not repeat it over and over, you will forget every syllable : so I have prepared her to joke and be quite familiar with you at once. She knows more of personal characters, and paints them better, than anybody : but let this be between ourselves, for I would not have a living soul suspect that I get any intelligence from her, which would hurt her; and, there fore, I beg you not to let any human being know of this 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 59 letter, nor of your conversations with her, neither English nor French. Madame du Deffand hates les philosophes; so you must give them up to her. She and Madame Geoffrin are no friends : so, if you go thither, don't tell her of it. Indeed you would be sick of that house, whither all the pretended beaux esprits and faux savants go, and where they are very impertinent and dogmatic. Let me give you one other caution, which I shall give Lady Ailesbury too. Take care of your papers at Paris, and have a very strong lock to your portefeuille. In the hotels garnis they have double keys to every lock, and examine every drawer and paper of the English they can get at. They will pilfer, too, whatever they can. I was robbed of half my clothes there the first time, and they wanted to hang poor Louis to save the people of the house who had stolen the things. Here is another thing I must say. Madame du Deffand has kept a great many of my letters, and, as she is very old, I am in pain about them. I have written to her to beg she will deliver them up to you to bring back to me, and I trust she will. If she does, be so good to take great care of them. If she does not mention them, tell her just before you come away, that I begged you to bring them ; and if she hesitates, convince her how it would hurt me to have letters written in very bad French, and mentioning several people, both French and English, fall into bad hands, and, perhaps, be printed. Let me desire you to read this letter more than once, that you may not forget my requests, which are very important to me ; and I must give you one other caution, without which all would be useless. There is at Paris a Mademoiselle de l'Espinasse 2, a pretended bel esprit, who was formerly an 2 Julie Jeanne Eleonore de l'Espi- of the Comtesse d'Albon, whose le- nasse (1732-1776), natural daughter gitimate daughter was sister-in-law 60 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi humble companion of Madame du Deffand ; and betrayed her and used her very ill. I beg of you not to let anybody carry you thither. It would disoblige my friend of all things in the world, and she would never tell you a syllable ; and I own it would hurt me, who have such infinite obligations to her, that I should be very unhappy, if a particular friend of mine showed her this disregard. She has done everything upon earth to please and serve me, and I owe it to her to be earnest about this attention. Pray do not mention it ; it might look simple in me, and yet I owe it to her, as I know it would hurt her: and, at her age, with her misfortunes, and with infinite obligations on my side, can I do too much to show my gratitude, or prevent her any new mortification ? I dwell upon it, because she has some enemies so spiteful that they try to carry all English to Mademoiselle de l'Espinasse. I wish the Duchess of Choiseul may come to Paris while you are there ; but I fear she will not ; you would like her of all things. She has more sense and more virtues than almost any human being. If you choose to see any of the savans, let me recommend Monsieur Buffon. He has not only much more sense than any of them, but is an excellent old man, humane, gentle, well-bred, and with none of the arrogant pertness of all the rest. If he is at Paris, you will see a good deal of the Comte de Broglie at Madame du Deffand's. He is not a genius of the first water, but lively and sometimes agreeable. The court, I fear, will be at Fontainbleau, which will prevent your seeing many, unless you go thither. Adieu ! at Paris ! I leave the rest of my of Madame du Deffand. Mile, de were accustomed to assemble before l'Espinasse was for ten years com- Madame du Deffand was ready to panion to Madame du Deffand. In receive them. In consequence of 1763 the latter found out that her this discovery Mile, de l'Espinasse companion secretly held a salon in was dismissed. her own room, where her friends 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 61 paper for England, if I happen to have anything particular to tell you. 1565. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 6, 1774. It would be unlike my attention and punctuality to see so large an event as an irregular dissolution of Parliament, without taking any notice of it to you. It happened last. Saturday, six months before its natural death, and without the design being known but the Tuesday before, and that by very few persons. The chief motive is supposed to be the ugly state of North America, and the effects that a cross winter might have on the next elections. Whatever were the causes, the first consequences, as you may guess, were such a ferment in London as is seldom seen at this dead season of the year. Couriers, dispatches, post-chaises, post-horses, hurrying every way ! Sixty messengers passed through one single turnpike on Friday. The whole island is by this time in equal agitation ; but less wine and money will be shed than have been at any such period for these fifty years. We have a new famous bill, devised by the late Mr. Grenville, that has its first operation now; and what changes it may occasion, nobody can yet foresee. The first symptoms are not favourable to the court ; the great towns are casting off submission, and declaring for popular members. London, Westminster, Middlesex, seem to have no monarch but Wilkes, who is at the same time pushing for the mayoralty of London, with hitherto a majority on the poll. It is strange how this man, like a phoenix, always revives from his embers ! America, I doubt, is still more unpromising. There are whispers of their having assembled an armed force, and of earnest supplications arrived for succours of men and ships. A civil war is no trifle ; and 62 To Sir Horace Mann [1774 how we are to suppress or pursue it in such a vast region, with a handful of men, I am not an Alexander to guess ; and for the fleet, can we put it upon casters and wheel it from Hudson's Bay to Florida? But I am an ignorant soul, and neither pretend to knowledge nor foreknowledge. All I perceive already is that our Parliaments are subjected to America and India, and must be influenced by their politics; yet I do not believe our senators are more universal than formerly. They say I was too precipitate in believing Lord Cowper's match, yet most people think it is to be : a matter of perfect indifference to me ; I only mentioned it as a subject we could both talk on : we have not many such. I saw the Duchess of Beaufort t'other night, who is warm in your praises. She is returned with an air of youth. It would be quite unfashionable to talk longer of anything but elections ; and yet it is the topic on which I never talk or think, especially since I took up my freedom 1. In one light I can speak of them. The whole world has been so good for these six months as to believe my nephew quite in his senses. It was very far from being my opinion. You shall judge yourself. Lady Orford had given him power over her boroughs. The moment Mr. Sharpe, her agent, heard of the dissolution, he sent two expresses, one after the other, to my Lord. He has not deigned to send any answer or give any orders, except dispatching Mr. Skreene '* to one of them. Mr. Boone 3, his candidate for the other, is in bed with the gout; and though there is a clear majority of three voices at one, Mr. Sharpe thinks he will lose both by his improvidence. I had taken measures to secure both. As everybody is as mad to Letter 1565 — i His quitting Par- Callington on Oct. 13, 1774. liament. Walpole. s Charles Boone, returned for 2 William Skrine, returned for Ashburton on Oct. 11, 1774. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 63 secure boroughs, as my Lord is in neglecting, I fancy they will allow now that his intellects are not quite so sound as they imagined. If Lady Orford asks you any questions, you may mention the state of the case in gentle terms ; Mr. Sharpe, I conclude, will be more narrative. In the midst of this combustion, we are in perils by land and water. It has rained for this month without inter mission ; there is a sea between me and Eichmond, and Sunday was se'nnight I was hurried down to Isleworth in the ferry-boat by the violence of the current, and had great difficulty to get to shore. Our roads are so infested by highwaymen, that it is dangerous stirring out almost by day. Lady Hertford was attacked on Hounslow Heath at three in the afternoon. Dr. Eliot was shot at three days ago, without having resisted; and the day before yesterday we were near losing our Prime Minister, Lord North ; the robbers shot at the postillion, and wounded the latter. In short, all the freebooters, that are not in India, have taken to the highway. The Ladies of the Bed chamber dare not go to the Queen at Kew in an evening. The lane between me and the Thames is the only safe road I know at present, for it is up to the middle of the horses in water. Next week I shall not venture to London even at noon, for the Middlesex election is to be at Brent ford, where the two demagogues, Wilkes and Townshend, oppose each other ; and at Eichmond there is no crossing the river. How strange all this must appear to you Florentines ; but you may turn to your Machiavel and Guicciardin, and have some idea of it. I am the quietest man at present in the whole island ; not but I might take some part, if I would. I was in my garden yesterday, seeing my servants lop some trees ; my brewer walked in and pressed me to go to Guildhall for the nomination of members for the county. I replied, calmly, 'Sir, when 64 To Sir Horace Mann [1774 I would go no more to my own election, you may be very sure I will go to that of nobody else.' My old tune is, Suave man magno turbantibus aequora ventis, &c. Adieu ! P.S. Arlington Street, 7th. I am just come to town, and find your letter, with the notification of Lord Cowper's marriage 4 ; I recollect that I ought to be sorry for it, as you will probably lose an old friend. The approaching death of the Pope6 will be an event of no consequence. That old mummery is near its conclusion, at least as a political object. The history of the latter Popes will be no more read than that of the last Constantinopolitan Emperors. Wilkes is a more con spicuous personage in modern story than the Pontifex Maximus of Eome. The poll for Lord Mayor ended last night ; he and his late mayor had above 1,900 votes, and their antagonists not 1,500. It is strange that the more he is opposed, the more he succeeds ! I don't know whether Sir W. Duncan's marriage proved Platonic or not-; but I cannot believe that a lady of great birth *, and greater pride, quarrels with her family, to marry a Scotch physician for Platonic love, which she might enjoy without marriage. I remember an admirable bon mot of George Selwyn ; who said, ' How often Lady Mary will repeat, with Macbeth, "Wake Duncan with thy knocking — would thou couldst ! " ' * The third Earl Cowper married 6 Clement XIV. at Florence on June 2, 1775, Anne, e Lady Mary Tufton, sister of the daughter of Charles Gore, of Horke- Earl of Thanet. Walpole. stowe, Lincolnshire. 1774] To the Rev. William Mason 65 1566. To the Eev. William Cole. Dear Sir, Strawberry Hill, Oct. 11, 1774. I answer yours immediately, as one pays a shilling to clench a bargain, when one suspects the seller. I accept your visit in the last week of this month, and will prosecute you if you do not execute. I have nothing to say about elections, but that I con gratulate myself every time I feel I have nothing to do with them. By my nephew's strange conduct about his boroughs, and by many other reasons, I doubt whether he is so well as he seemed to Dr. Bernardiston — it is a subject I do not love to talk on, but I know I tremble every time the bell rings at my gate at an unusual hour. Have you seen Mr. Granger's Supplement1? Methinks it grows too diffuse. I have hinted to him that fewer panegyrics from funeral sermons would not hurt it. Adieu ! Yours ever, H. W. 1567. To the Eev. William Mason. I have not imitated your silence from irony, but con venience, — not from want of forgiveness, but of matter. In a time of general elections I have no more ideas than in Newmarket season, when everybody is talking of matches and bets. I do not know who has been distanced, or thrown, or won a cup. I have only observed in the papers, that Lord John has been hard run, though he has got the plate ' ; and as the race was at York, I suppose you was on the course. The new senate, they tell me, will be a curious Letter 1566. — 1 To his Biographi- Notes and Queries, April 14, 1900.) cal History. ' Lord John Cavendish was re- Letter 1567 Misplaced by C. turned as member for the City of amongst letters of Sept. 1774. (See York on Oct. 10, 1774. WALPOLE. IX 66 To the Rev. William Mason [1774 assemblage of patricians and plebeians and knights — of the post. An old-clothesman, who, George Selwyn says, certainly stood for Monmouth, was a candidate, but unsuccessful. Bob2, formerly a waiter at White's, was set up by my nephew for two boroughs, and actually is returned for Castle Eising with Mr. Wedderburn ; Servus curru portatur eodem ; which I suppose will offend the Scottish consul, as much as his countrymen resent an Irishman s standing for West minster, which the former reckon a borough of their own. For my part, waiter for waiter, I see little difference ; they are all equally ready to cry, ' Coming, coming, Sir.' I have heard nothing but what you tell me of Johnson's detection* nor shall believe it till I see it. I have been likewise told that Macpherson is to publish the papers of James II, and detect Sir John Dalrymple. Credat Judaeus ! Is that house so divided against itself? I should have ajs soon believed Lord Mansfield had been to Paris for materials to prove the Assassination Plot. Eeally, Mr. Mason, you people who live in the country are strangely credulous ! We are ignorant enough at Twickenham, mais point jusqu'a ce point-la. Your Life may as well have patience a little longer still. If it comes out in the midst of contested elections, flatter yourself as much as you will, no soul will read it. Alas, Sir ! the history of a dead poet will make no more impres sion now than the battle of Agincourt. If you can tell us any news of the assembly of the colonies, we shall listen to you with avidity. If you have any private intelligence that Boston is levelled to the ground, and sown with salt, better 2 Robert Macreth, afterwards * An expression of disbelief in the knighted. genuineness of Ossian in Johnson's 3 Hervey Redmond Morres (d. Journey to the Western Isles of Scot- 1797), second Viscount Mountmorres. land, published in 1775. 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 67 and better ; but, dear Sir, Mr. Gray never set his foot in the Massachusetts. He and Pindar might sing very pretty catches for aught we know, but nobody cares about such things nowadays. You lose your time, indeed you do. The belles lettres were in fashion once, and so were fardingales. But this is a grave nation, and soon grows weary of trifles. For one while we were mad about commerce, but that bubble is over too. We have at last found out that fleets do more good by destroying trade than by protecting it; for if we have no trade, we are not vulnerable by an enemy. Spain enjoys Peru and Mexico by extirpating the inhabitants. She found that her natives migrated thither. What did she do ? Laid waste the New World ; and the Spaniards stayed at home — to be sure ; and we are going to be as wise. I wish you would turn your mind to these things as I do. There is some good in fathoming the arcana of Government, but poetry and writing lives is an occupation only fit for a schoolboy, — Non sic fortis Etruria crevit, Scilicet et rerum facta est pulcherrima Soma. No, she conquered the world and plundered her provinces, and then was blest with those demigods, Caligula, Domitian, and Heliogabalus, who were always sent to heaven as soon as they were ripe for it. Adieu ! 1568. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Oct. IB, 1774. Why, Madam, you are a Proteus in petticoats, and every day appear in some new character ! Three days ago you was setting out ambassadress to Spain : to-day you are agent for Mr. Ongley1, and carrying a county election. Letter 1568. — > Robert Henley-Ongley, M.P. for Bedfordshire ; cr. (July 30, 1776) Baron Ongley, of Old Warden in Ireland ; d. 1785. F 2 68 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [mi Next week I suppose you will set out for Eome and make a Pope. I am sorry to put you in mind of an old observa tion, that they who attempt everything seldom are at the head of anything. You will not be the most con spicuous of ambassadresses, unless you go in your own right, as the Marechale de Guebriant was sent to Poland without her husband. You will not be the first of electresses, unless you sit on the hustings like the Duchess of Northumber land. As to going to Madrid without Lord Ossory, you would not dislike it, if it was only to disappoint me of a son and heir ; but let me see you in the porch of Bedford church, clapping Tom and Jack on the back, and tossing up a diamond cap in a huzza ! Seriously, I should be very unhappy if I believed in your embassy, but as we were assured of it on creditable authority I was very little frightened, besides some private reasons of my own for doubting. It was not from your Ladyship's silence. The corps diplo matique, I know, keep secrets even after they have been in the Gazette, and were I impertinent enough to ask the question, to be sure you would answer like the Tuscan Envoy on Cromwell's death, 'Some say we are to go to Spain, some say we are not ; for my part, I believe neither one nor t'other.' You ask me, Madam, what I am doing ? As I have no public character nor am tied to any mystery, I can answer very explicitly, what I generally am doing, laughing at everybody else. I have escaped the two things I hate and dread the most, Parliament and the gout ; the first, as I told you in my last, might have happened now, in spite of my teeth, if my nephew had continued as bad as he was ; the last I feared I should have had before this time, but my reckoning was out last night, and I have now great con fidence in the bootikins for keeping it off. I sing Io Paean to Apollo, as god of medicine, for putting 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 69 off both my nephew's fit and mine, and give a loose to my spirits by diverting myself with all you who are over head and ears in elections, while I am enjoying the sunshine of October, and see even the horse-chestnuts in full leaf; but I beg your Ladyship's pardon, what care you what a man does who has not a freehold in the world ? What an insignificant being ! and the old fool pretends to be happy ! I own it is very insolent at fifty-eight to be even contented ; but what can I do, Madam ? If I had any misfortunes, I should consider how short a time they could last ; and the gout itself, about which I own I am no stoic, must be cured, or deliver me for ever. Not that I am like poor Lord Holland, and wish to die. I like life extremely, if I hold it on no worse terms. I am not likely to play the fool myself, and one may trust that there are enough that will, to keep one in diversion. It is all the ill-will I have to the world ; and as I have too much sense to think of curing anybody, I hope it is a very innocent amusement to sit in my own room and smile, — I mean for anybody but a Spanish ambassadress. What difficulty I should have, if I lived to your return, to compose my face to becoming gravity ; and if I heard you ring and order your majordomo to call Lady Anne's duenna ! I would try to behave as properly as if you made me Your Excellency's, &c, &c, The Governor of Barataria. 1569. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, Sunday, Oct. 16, 1774. I received this morning your letter of the 6th from Strasburg ; and before you get this you will have had three from me by Lady Ailesbury. One of them should have reached you much sooner; but Lady Ailesbury kept it, 70 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi not being sure where you was. It was in answer to one in which you told me an anecdote, which in this last you ask if I had received. Your letters are always so welcome to me, that you certainly have no occasion for excusing what you say or do not say. Your details amuse me, and so would what you suppress ; for, though I have no military genius or curiosity, whatever relates to yourself must interest me. The honours you have received, though I have so little taste for such things myself, gave me great satisfaction ; and I do not know whether there is not more pleasure in not being a prophet in one's own country, when one is almost re ceived like Mahomet in every other. To be an idol at home is no assured touchstone of merit. Stocks and stones have been adored in fifty regions, but do not bear transplanting. The Apollo Belvidere and the Hercules Farnese may lose their temples, but never lose their estimation, by travelling. Elections, you may be sure, are the only topic here at present — I mean in England — not on this quiet hill, where I think of them as little as of the spot where the battle of Blenheim was fought. They say there will not be much alteration, but the Phoenix will rise from its ashes with most of its old plumes, or as bright. Wilkes at first seemed to carry all before him, besides having obtained the mayoralty of London at last. Lady Hertford told me last Sunday that he would carry twelve members. I have not been in town since, nor know anything but what I collect from the papers ; so, if my letter is opened, M. de Vergennes* will not amass any very authentic intelligence from my dispatches. What I have taken notice of is as follows : for the City Wilkes will have but three members : he will lose Crosby, Letter 1569 — 1 The Comte de Vergennes, Minister for Foreign Affairs. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 71 and Townsend will carry Oliver. In Westminster, Wilkes will not have one; his Humphrey Cotes is by far the lowest on the poll ; Lord Percy and Lord T. Clinton are triumphant there. Her Grace of Northumberland sits at a window in Covent Garden, harangues the mob, and is ' Hail, fellow, well met ! ' At Dover, Wilkes has carried one, and probably will come in for Middlesex 2 himself with Glynn. There have been great endeavours to oppose him, but to no purpose. Of this I am glad, for I do not love a mob so near as Brentford ; especially as my road lies through it. Where he has any other interest I am too ignorant in these matters to tell you. Lord John Cavendish is opposed at York, and at the beginning of the poll had the fewest numbers. Charles Fox, like the Ghost in Hamlet, has shifted to many quarters ; but in most the cock crew, and he walked off3. In Southwark there has been out rageous rioting ; but I neither know the candidates *, their connections, nor success. This, perhaps, will appear a great deal of news at Paris: here, I dare to say, my butcher knows more. I can tell you still less of America. There are two or three more ships with forces going thither, and Sir William Draper as second in command. Of private news, except that Dyson has had a stroke of palsy and will die B, there is certainly none ; for I saw that shrill Morning Post, Lady Greenwich, two hours ago, and she did not know a paragraph. I forgot to mention to you M. de Maurepas. He was by far the ablest and most agreeable man I knew at Paris : and if you stay, I think I could take the liberty of giving you a letter to him ; though, as he is now so great a man, 2 Wilkes was returned for Mid- 4 The members elected were Na- dlesex on Oct. 20, 1774. . thaniel Polhill and Henry Thrale. 8 He was returned for Malmesbury. 6 Dyson lived till 1776, 72 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi and I remain so little an one, I don't know whether it would be quite so proper — though he was exceedingly good to me, and pressed me often to make him a visit in the country. But Lord Stormont 6 can certainly carry you to him — a better passport. There was one of my letters on which I wish to hear from you. There are always English coming from Paris, who would bring such a parcel : at least, you might send me one volume at a time, and the rest afterwards : but I should not care to have them ventured by the common conveyance. Madame du Deffand is negotiating for an enamel picture 7 for me ; but, if she obtains it, I had rather wait for it till you come. The books I mean are those I told you Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer would give you a particular account of, for they know my mind exactly. Don't reproach me with not meeting you at Paris. Eecollect what I suffered this time two years ; and, if you can have any notion of fear, imagine my dread of torture for five months and a half! When all the quiet of Strawberry did but just carry me through it, could I support it in the noise of a French hotel ! and, what would be still worse, exposed to receive all visits ? for the French, you know, are never more in public than in the act of death. I am like animals, and love to hide myself when I am dying. Thank God, I am now two days beyond the crisis when I expected my dreadful periodic visitant, and begin to grow very sanguine about the virtue of the bootikins. I shall even have courage to go to-morrow to Chalfont for two days, as it is but a journey of two hours. I would not be a day's 6 English Ambassador in Paris. vendre ce portrait en email, par 7 'J'oubliais de vous dire que Petitot, de Madame d'Olonne? En Mariette est mort ; je me suis deja ce cas, il faut me dire quel prix informee (mais sans succes) ou l'on vous y voulez mettre.' (Madame du pourrait trouver ses hentiers ; si je Deffand to Horace Walpole, Sept. l'apprends, desirez-vous que je fasse 20, 1774.) demander s'ils consentiraient a 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 73 journey from hence for all Lord Clive's diamonds. This will satisfy you. I doubt Madame du Deffand is not so easily convinced: therefore, pray do not drop a hint before her of blaming me for not meeting you ; rather assure her you are persuaded it would have been too great a risk for me at this season. I wish to have her quite clear of my attachment to her ; but that I do not always find so easy. You, I am sure, will find her all zeal and empressement for you and yours. Adieu ! 1570. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 22, 1774. Though I have been writing two letters, of four sides each, one of which I enclose, I must answer your two last, if my fingers will move ; and talk to you on the contents of the enclosed. If the Jesuits have precipitated the Pope's death ', as seems more than probable, they have acted more by the spirit of their order, than by its good sense. Great crimes may raise a growing cause, but seldom retard the fall of a sinking one. This I take to be almost an infallible maxim. Great crimes, too, provoke more than they terrify ; and there is no poisoning all that are provoked, and all that are terrified ; who alter nately provoke and terrify each other, till common danger produces common security. The Bourbon monarchs will be both angry and frightened, the Cardinals frightened. It will be the interest of both not to revive an order that bullies with arsenic in its sleeve. The poisoned host will destroy the Jesuits, as well as the Pope : and perhaps the Church of Eome will fall by a wafer, as it rose by it ; for such an edifice will tumble when once the crack has begun. Letter 1570. — 1 Benedict XIV, Ganganelli. Walpole.— Not Benedict, but Clement, XIV. 74 To Sir Horace Mann [mi Our elections are almost over. Wilkes has taken possession of Middlesex without an enemy appearing against him ; and, being as puissant a monarch as Henry the Eighth, and as little scrupulous, should, like him, date his acts From our Palace of Bridewell, in the tenth year of our reign. He has, however, met with a heroine to stem the tide of his con quests ; who, though not of Arc, nor a pucelle, is a true Joan in spirit, style, and manners. This is her Grace of Northumberland 2, who has carried the mob of Westminster from him ; sitting daily in the midst of Covent Garden ; and will elect her son 3 and Lord Thomas Clinton *, against Wilkes's two candidates, Lord Mahon6 and Lord Mount- morris. She puts me in mind of what Charles the Second said of a foolish preacher, who was very popular in his parish : ' I suppose his nonsense suits their nonsense.' Elections naturally bring me to the subject of the enclosed, which you must read, seal, and deliver to Lady 0. You will see how her distrust of me, and what she thought cunning, has fallen on herself. I have not told her so, because I would not make mischief, but her agent Sharpe has been still more to blame. When she pretended to approve all I said, but would not do anything I advised, on the contrary promised one of her seats to Sir William Hamilton, and offered another to Sharpe for his nephew, he on his side was wishing to sell both, but I prevented it ; which he took so ill, that he would not assist me in preventing her son from letting a farm on her jointure to a jockey, nor would even send me an answer. Now all their ingenuity has fallen on themselves ; he, after a silence of many months, has sent me a letter lamenting my Lord's conduct — I suppose meaning to lay the blame on me, who would have hindered it, if he and his mistress had 2 Lady Elizabeth Seymour, Wai- Newcastle. Walpole. pole. 5 Only son of Earl Stanhope. 3 Earl Percy. Walpole. Walpole. 4 Second son of Henry, Duke of 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 75 not prevented my meddling. I have very plainly, though -in very civil terms, told him my mind. I have not told it to her on him, and have only hinted at her own misjudged address — cunning people always blunder by supposing no body has any sense but themselves. I have, however, given her very good advice, which she will not take. I cannot help it ; it was right for me to give it. I have told her too my resolution of never undertaking the burden again. I have had plenty of reasons, and few thanks for all I did and suffered — but in one word, I could now do no good. The boroughs are gone, and the farms are let. He is frantic in his conduct, and cunning in his behaviour ; I will give you a strong instance of both ; Macreth is evidence of the first; and of the second, his excusing himself by saying he supposes Macreth 6 had lent his mother money. Do not tell her this. I have concealed from her, too, that Macreth is not to expect to be repaid till her death. One must make the best of everything, but it is shocking to see the worst. Let me sweeten my letter by making you smile. A Quaker has been at Versailles ; and wanted to see the Comtes de Provence and d'Artois dine in public, but would not submit to pull off his hat. The Princes were told of it ; and not only admitted him with his beaver on, but made him sit down and dine with them. Was not it very sensible and good-humoured? You and I know one who would not have been so gracious : I do not mean my nephew Lord Cholmondeley 7. Adieu ! I am tired to death. P.S. I have seen the Duchess of Beaufort B ; who sings 5 Robert Macreth. He had been Lady Orford, who knew nothing of it, a waiter at White's. Lord Orford, had borrowed the money. Walpole. having borrowed money of him, 7 He means the Duke of Glou- brought him into Parliament for his cester. Walpole, borough of Castle Rising; and, to 8 Elizabeth, daughter of John excuse it, pretended that his mother, Berkeley, of Stoke Gifford, Glouces- 76 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [mi your praises quite in a tune I like. Her manner is much unpinioned to what it was, though her person remains as stately as ever ; and powder is vastly preferable to those brown hairs, of whose preservation she was so fond. I am not so struck with the beauty of Lady Mary "asi was three years ago. Your nephew, Sir Horace, I see by the papers, is come into Parliament10: I am glad of it. Is not he yet arrived at Florence ? Pray deliver my letter instead of sending it. I should like to know her first sensations on reading it, before she has time to determine how she will feel upon it. 1571. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 27, 1774. Don't be angry, dear lady ! I did not mean any offence to your conjugal zeal. I always knew you could fill any part you please, and could carry a county election as easy as a prize at a ball. When I compared you to the Duchess of Charing Cross, as the newspapers call her, was it possible you should think I saw any resemblance ? If you took it for a sneer, she must have taken it for a compliment, which I doubt she would not do. Your troubles, I hope, are over and crowned with victory ; mine are so, if you do not go to Madrid. I know nothing, for I will not know the only thing that is to be known, elections. I am very ignorant who is chosen for my Lord Orford's boroughs. As he is so perfectly in his senses, I suppose he has brought in some men of quality or great speakers, or that some minister has recommended to tershire ; m. (1740) Lord Charles daughter of Charles Noel, Duke of Noel Somerset, who succeeded his Beaufort. She was afterwards mar- brother as fourth Duke of Beaufort ried to the Duke of Rutland. Walpole. in 1746. 10 As member for Maidstone. 9 Lady Mary Somerset, youngest 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 11 him an intimate friend, who will give credit to the recom- mender, and be useful to my Lord himself. Had he remained out of order, somebody or other might have taken advantage of his weakness, and imposed somebody upon him that would disgrace him ; but as he is so well, I am easy. I do not desire the little vanity of having everybody say, that if I had had the management of his affairs, he would not have been exposed ; nor could any man, surely, who wished me ill, make such a blunder as to give me that triumph ! Have you heard, Madam, of the Quaker that has dined with the Comtes de Provence and d'Artois ? It is exactly true. He would not pull off his hat ; they admitted him with it on, and then made him sit down to table with them. Charles II could not have been better humoured. They say the late Pope was poisoned by the Jesuits. These gentlemen and the Czarina will repoison many royal personages that Voltaire had unpoisoned; and as he has both abused and praised the Jesuits, he may take which side he pleases, as he has done about eveiy other ques tion. In the neighbouring city of Twickenham they talk of nothing but houses broken open and robbed. I have called my militia into my castle, and mounted cannon on the battle ments. Yet I was more afraid of a contested election for Middlesex ; and when it was threatened, I thought I would not be the Duke of Northumberland's fine gate at Sion for the world. In short, one lives in very perilous times ! The powder mills blow one up, and break all one's painted glass ; one is robbed on the highway, though one is Prime Minister J, and shot at into the bargain. I don't know what we shall come to, Madam ; pray, do you ? And pray, don't you think it is all that Wilkes's doing ? Everybody would be good, and honest, and quiet, if it was not for him. Lady Greenwich Letter 1571.— l See letter to Mann of Oct. 6, 1774. 78 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi and I think so, and we hope you are of our opinion ; and wonder some Christian don't murder him. 1572. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 29, 1774. I have received your letter of the 23rd, and it certainly overpays me, when you thank instead of scolding me, as I feared. A passionate man has very little merit in being in a passion, and is sure of saying many things he repents, as I do. I only hope you think that I could not be so much in the wrong for everybody ; nor should have been, perhaps, even for you, if I had not been certain I was the only person, at that moment, that could serve you essentially : and at such a crisis, I am sure I should take exactly the same part again, except in saying some things I did, of which I am ashamed 1 ! I will say no more now on that topic, nor on anything relating to it, because I have written my mind very fully, and you will know it soon. I can only tell you now, that I approve extremely your way of thinking, and hope you will not change it before you hear from me, and know some material circumstances. You and Lady Ailesbury and I agree exactly, and she and I certainly consider only you. I do not answer her last, because I could not help telling you how very kindly I take your -letter. All I beg is, that you would have no delicacy about my serving you any way. You know it is a pleasure to me : anybody else may have views that would embarrass you ; and, therefore, till you are on the spot, and can judge for yourself (which I always insist on, because you are cooler than I, and because, though I have no interests to serve, I have passions, which equally mislead one), it will Letter 1572. — ' Horace Walpole failure to ensure General Conway's had had a violent quarrel with Lord return at the general election. (See Hertford on account of the latter's Last Journals, vol. i. pp. 401-17.) 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 79 be wiser to decline all kind of proposals and offers. You will avoid the plague of contested elections and solicitations : and I see no reasons, at present, that can tempt you to be in a hurry. You must not expect to be Madame du Deffand's first favourite. Lady Ailesbury has made such a progress there, that you will not easily supplant her. I have received volumes in her praise. You have a better chance with Madame de Cambis *, who is very agreeable ; and I hope you are not such an English husband as not to conform to the manners of Paris while you are there. I forgot to mention one or two of my favourite objects to Lady Ailesbury ; nay, I am not sure she will taste one of them, the church of the Celestines. It is crowded with beautiful old tombs: one of Francis II whose beatitude is presumed from his being husband of the martyr Mary Stuart. Another is of the first wife3 of John Duke of Bedford, the Eegent of France. I think you was once there with me formerly. The other is Eichelieu's tomb, at the Sorbonne — but that everybody is carried to see. The Hotel de Carnavalet 4, near the Place Eoyale, is worth looking at, even for the facade, as you drive by. But of all earthly things the most worth seeing is the house at Versailles, where the King's pictures, not hung up, are kept. There is a treasure past belief, though in sad order, and piled one against another. Monsieur de Guerchy once carried me thither ; and you may certainly get leave. At the Luxembourg are some hung up, and one particularly is worth going to see alone: it is the 'Deluge7 by Nicold Poussin, as winter. The three other seasons are good for 2 Gabrielle Charlotte Francoise s Anne (d. 1482), daughter of Jean de Chimai, daughter of Alexandre sans Peur, Duke of Burgundy. Gabriel d'Alsace Hennin Lietard, * Where Madame de Sevigne' re- Prince de Chimai, and wife of Jac- sided. Walpole, ques Francois, Vicomte de Cambis. 80 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774 nothing ; but the ' Deluge ' is the first picture in the world of its kind. You will be shocked to see the glorious pictures at the Palais Eoyal transplanted to new canvases, and new painted and varnished, as if they were to be scenes at the Opera — at least, they had treated half a dozen of the best so, three years ago, and were going on. The Prince of Monaco has a few fine, but still worse used ; one of them shines more than a looking-glass. I fear the exposition of pictures is over for this year ; it is generally very diverting 5. I, who went into every church of Paris, can assure you there are few worth it, but the Invalides — except the scenery at St. Eoche, about one or two o'clock at noon, when the sun shines ; the Carmelites, for the Guido and the portrait of Madame de la Valliere as a Magdalen ; the Val de Grace 6, for a moment ; the treasure at Notre Dame ; the Sainte Chapelle, where in the ante-chapel are two very large enamelled portraits ; the tomb of Conde at the Great Jesuits in the Eue St. Antoine, if not shut up ; and the little church of St. Louis in the Louvre, where is a fine tomb of Cardinal Fleury, but large enough to stand on Salisbury Plain. One thing some of you must remember, as you return ; nay, it is better to go soon to St. Denis, and Madame du Deffand must get you a particular order to be shown (which is never shown without) the effigies of the kings. They are in presses over the treasure which is shown, and where is the glorious antique cameo-cup ; but the countenance of Charles IX is so horrid and remarkable, you would think he had died on the morrow of the St. Barthelemi, and waked full of the recollection. If you love enamels and exquisite medals, get to see the collection of a Monsieur d'Henery, who lives in the corner of the street where Sir John Lambert 7 lives — e He means from their extreme 7 Sir John Lambert, third Baronet, bad taste. Walpole. a banker in Paris ; d. 1799. 6 A Benedictine convent. 1774] To fhe Countess of Ailesbury 81 I forget its name. There is an old man behind the Eue de Colombier, who has a great but bad collection of old French portraits ; I delighted in them, but perhaps you would not. I, you may be sure, hunted out everything of that sort. The convent and collection of St. Germain, I mean that over against the Hotel du Pare Eoyal, is well worth seeing — but I forget names strangely — Oh, delightful ! — Lord Cholmondeley sends me word he goes to Paris on Monday : I shall send this and my other letter by him. It was him I meant ; I knew he was going, and had prepared it. Pray take care to lock up your papers in a strong box, that nobody can open. They imagine you are at Paris on some commission, and there is no trusting French hotels or servants. America is in a desperate situation. The accounts from the Congress are not expected before the 10th, and expected very warm. I have not time to tell you some manoeuvres against them that will make your blood curdle. Write to me when you can by private hands, as I will to you. There are always English passing back wards and forwards. 1573. To the Countess of Ailesbury. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 7, 1774. I have written such tomes to Mr. Conway \ Madam, and have so nothing new to write, that I might as well, me thinks, begin and end hke the lady to her husband : ' Je vous ecris parce que je n'ai rien a faire : je finis parce que je n'ai rien a vous dire.' Yes, I have two complaints to make, one of your Ladyship, the other of myself. You tell me nothing of Lady Harriet2: have you no tongue, Letter 1573. — > Mr. Conway and 2 Lady Harriet Stanhope, after- Lady Ailesbury were now at Paris wards married to Lord Foley. Wai- together. Walpole. pole. WALPOLE. IX 82 To the Countess of Ailesbury [1774 or the French no eyes? or are her eyes employed in nothing but seeing? What a vulgar employment for a fine woman's eyes after she is risen from her toilet ! I declare I will ask no more questions— what is it to me, whether she is admired or not? I should know how charming she is, though all Europe were blind. I hope I am not to be told by any barbarous nation upon earth what beauty and grace are ! For myself, I am guilty of the gout in my elbow ; the left — witness my handwriting. Whether I caught cold by the deluge in the night, or whether the bootikins, like the water of Styx, can only preserve the parts they surround, I doubt they have saved me but three weeks, for so long my reckoning has been out. However, as I feel nothing in my feet, I flatter myself that this Pindaric transition will not be a regular ode, but a fragment, the more valuable for being imperfect. Now for my Gazette. — Marriages — Nothing done. In trigues — More in the political than civil way. Births — Under par since Lady Berkeley left off breeding. Gaming — Low water. Deaths — Lord Morton 3, Lord Wentworth 4, Duchess Douglas6. Election stock — More buyers than sellers. Promotions — Mr. Wilkes as high as he can go. — Apropos, he was told Lord Chancellor 6 intended to signify to him that the King did not approve the City's choice : he replied, ' Then I shall signify to his Lordship, that I am at least as fit to be Lord Mayor as he to be Lord Chan cellor.' This being more gospel than everything Mr. Wilkes says, the formal approbation was given. Mr. Burke has succeeded in Bristol, and Sir James Peachey' will miscarry in Sussex. But what care you, 3 Sholto Charles Douglas (1732- • Margaret Douglas, widow of the 1774), fifteenth Earl of Morton. first Duke of Douglas. * Edward Noel, first Viscount 6 Lord Apsley. Wentworth. i Sir James Peachey (1723-1808), 1774] To the Coumtess of Ailesbury 83 Madam, about our Parliament? You will see the rentree of the old one 8, with songs and epigrams into the bargain. We do not shift our Parliaments with so much gaiety. Money in one hand, and abuse in t'other — those are all the arts we know. Wit and a gamut I don't believe ever signified a Parliament, whatever the glossaries may say ; for they never produce pleasantry and harmony. Perhaps you may not taste this Saxon pun, but I know it will make the Antiquarian Society die with laughing. Expectation hangs on America. The result of the general assembly9 is expected in four or five days. If one may believe the papers, which one should not believe, the other- side-of-the-waterists are not doux comme des moutons, and yet we do intend to eat them. I was in town on Monday ; the Duchess of Beaufort graced our loo, and made it as rantipole as a Quaker's meeting. Loois Quinse 10, I believe, is arrived by this time, but I fear without quinze louis. Your herb-snuff and the four glasses are lying in my warehouse, but I can hear of no ship going to Paris. You are now at Fontainbleau, but not thinking of Francis I, the Queen of Sweden11, and Monaldeschi. It is terrible that one cannot go to courts that are gone ! You have supped with the Chevalier de Boufflers12: did he act every thing in the world, and sing everything in the world, and laugh at everything in the world ? Has Madame de Cambis sung to you Sans depit, sans legerete13 ? Has Lord Cholmon deley delivered my packet? I hear I have hopes of Madame d'Olonne 14. Gout or no gout, I shall be little in fourth Baronet, or. (Aug. 13, 1794) lz Stanislas (1737-1815), Marquis, Baron Selsey, of Selsey in Sussex. better known as the Chevalier, de 8 The French Farliament. Boufflers. He became a member of 9 A General Congress sat at Phila- the French Academy in 1788. delphia from Sept. 5 to Oot. 29, 1774, ls The first words of a favourite to which twelve ofthe colonies sent French air. Walpole. delegates. 14 The enamel portrait mentioned 10 Probably Lady Powis. in the letter to Conway of Sept. 28, h Christina, Queen of Sweden. 1774. a 2 84 To Sir Horace Mann [mi town till after Christmas. My elbow makes me bless myself that I am not at Paris. Old age is no such uncom fortable thing, if one gives oneself up to it with a good grace, and don't drag it about To midnight dances and the public show. If one stays quietly in one's own house in the country, and eares for nothing but oneself, scolds one's servants, condemns everything that is new, and recollects how charming a thousand things were formerly that were very disagreeable, one gets over the winters very well, and the summers get over themselves. 1574. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 11, 1774. I entirely approve all you say about your nephew ; and yet my affection for you and Gal's memory is so great, and I was so pleased with the young man last year, that I don't know how to help wishing that he had gone to you, as I think you would have liked him, unless he is like my nephew, engaging when with one, provoking when absent. I really thought him on his road to Florence ; but as I see by the newspapers that he is chosen into Parliament, I suppose he was not set out, or turned back on the disso lution. I cannot inquire without making a visit in my neighbourhood, which I never do make, but when abso lutely necessary, for I know our agreement is less risked by absence than by meeting. I will say no more on the subject. I can trust to your good sense and good temper for always doing precisely what is right. I have so very little to tell you, that I almost think I shall detain this letter till another post. Every day may bring us critical news from America, which will give the 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 85 chief colour to the winter. I am in perfect ignorance of the situation of affairs there. I live quietly here, uncon nected with all factions, enjoying the delightful place I have made, and even enjoying my old age, since the gout keeps away. The bitterness of the last fit, succeeded by my stewardship, gives a flavour to my tranquillity that, perhaps, I should not taste so much, if I had not lost it for near a year and a half. I propose to be little absent hence till after Christmas, a longer stay than I ever made in the country ; but what can I see in London that I have not seen fifty times over ? There is a new race, indeed, but does it promise to make the times more agreeable ? Does the world talk of our orators, poets, or wits ? Oh, no ! It talks of vast fortunes made, or vast fortunes lost at play ! It talks of Wilkes at the top of the wheel, and of Charles Fox at the bottom : all between is a blank. It is not much better anywhere else. The King of Prussia, the hero of the last war, has only been a pick pocket in Poland. The Austrian and Eussian eagles have turned vultures, and preyed on desolated campaigns. The Turkish war ended one don't know how without any signal action. France has been making Parliaments cross over and figure-in, and yet without the scene being at all amusing. For my part, I take Europe to be worn out. When Voltaire dies, we may say, ' Good night ! ' I don't believe this age will be more read than the Byzantine his torians. The bigamist Duchess 1 is likely to become a real peeress at last. Lord Bristol '* has been struck with a palsy that has taken away the use of all his limbs. If he dies, and Augustus should take a fancy to marry again, as two or Letter 1574. — J Eliz. Chudleigh, Hervey, was living. Walpole. married to the Duke of Kingston, 2 George William, second Earl of though her husband, Augustus Bristol. Walpole; 86 To Sir Horace Mann [mi three years ago he had a mind to do, his next brother, the Bishop3, may happen to assist the Duke of Kingston's relations with additional proofs of the first marriage. They now think they shall be able to intercept the receipt of the Duke's estate ; but law is a horrid liar, and I never believe a word it says before the decision. Nov. 14th. There are advices from America that are said to be ex tremely bad : I don't know the particulars ; but I have never augured well of that dispute ! I fear we neither know how to proceed or retreat ! I believe this is the case with many individuals, as well as with the public. Within this week we have had two deaths out of the common course. Bradshaw *, a man well known of late, but in a more silent way than for his fame to have reached you, shot himself yesterday se'nnight. His beginning was very obscure; when he grew more known, it was not to his honour. He has since been a very active minister, of the second or third class, and more trusted, perhaps, than some of a higher class. Instead of making a great fortune, he had spent one, and could not go on a week longer. The Duke of Athol 5 is dead as suddenly ; drowned certainly ; whether delirious from a fever or from some disappointment, is not clear. Two evenings ago Lord Berkeley shot a highwayman 6 ; in short, frenzy is at work from top to bottom, and I doubt we shall 8 Frederic Hervey, Bishop of truder, " after all your boasts, as Derry, who became Earl of Bristol I hear, that you would never let after his brothers George and Au- yourself be robbed!" — "Nor would gustus. Walpole. I now," said Lord Berkeley, putting 4 Secretary of the Treasury. Wai- his hand into his pocket, as though pole. to draw forth his purse, "but for 6 John Murray, third Duke of that other fellow peeping over your Athol. shoulder." The highwayman hastily 6 ' Lord Berkeley, travelling after turned round to look at this unex- dark on Hounslow Heath, was pected intruder, when the Earl, wakened from a slumber by a strange pulling out instead of a purse a face at his carriage window and a pistol, shot him dead upon the spot.' loaded pistol at his breast. " I have (Stanhope, History of England, ed. you now, my Lord," said the in- 1853-4, vol, vii. p. 313.) 1774] To the Earl of Strafford 87 not be cool till there has been a good deal of blood let. You and I shall, probably, not see the subsiding of the storm, if the humours do boil over ; and can a nation be in a high fever without a crisis? I see the patients; I do not see the doctors. Adieu ! 1575. To the Earl of Strafford. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 11, 1774. I am sorry there is still time, my dear Lord, to write to you again; and that though there is, I have so little to amuse you with. One is not much nearer news for being within ten miles of London than if in Yorkshire ; and besides, whatever reaches us, Lady Greenwich catches at the rebound before me, and sends you before I can. Our own circle furnishes very little. Dowagers are good for propagating news when planted, but have done with send ing forth suckers. Lady Blandford's coffee-house is removed to town, and the Duchess of Newcastle's is little frequented, but by your sister Anne1, Lady Browne, and me. This morning, indeed, I was at a very fine concert at old Frank's at Isleworth, and heard Leoni, who pleased me more than anything I have heard these hundred years. There is a full melancholy melody in his voice, though a falsetta, that nothing but a natural voice ever compasses. Then he sung songs of Handel in the genuine simple style, and did not put one in pain like rope-dancers. Of the Opera I hear a dismal account ; for I did not go to it to sit in our box like an old king dowager by myself. Garrick is treating the town, as it deserves and likes to be treated, with scenes, fireworks, and his own writing. A good new play I never expect to see more, nor have seen since The Provoked Husband, which came out when I was at school. Letter 1575. — x Lady Anne Conolly. 88 To Isaac Reed [1774 Bradshaw is dead, they say by his own hand : I don't know wherefore. I was told it was a great political event. If it is, our politics run as low as our plays. From town I heard that Lord Bristol was taken speechless with a stroke of the palsy. If he dies, Madam Chudleigh must be tried by her peers, as she is certainly either Duchess or Countess. Mr. Conway and his company are so pleased with Paris, that they talk of staying till Christmas. I am glad ; for they will certainly be better diverted there than here. Your Lordship's most faithful servant, Hor. Walpole. 1576. To Isaac Eeed \ Strawberry Hill, Nov. 11, 1774. Though you have not been so good as to let me know to whom I am so much obliged 2, yet I am very glad you have given me an opportunity at least of thanking you. Had I sooner known how, I should have saved you some trouble, as several of the notices you have sent me had already come to my knowledge, and are actually inserted in a new edition of my Catalogue3, which has been long printed, though from some other reasons not yet published. Indeed, Sir, I am ashamed that you should have thrown away so much time upon a work that deserved it so little, and which I am sorry I cannot now make more perfect by your assistance, it being printed with other trifles of my own, and, consequently, I should be obliged to throw away the whole edition if I altered it ; and that is too late to do at my time of life, subject as I am to long confinements from Letter 1576. — 1 Isaac Reed (1742- to be left at the Chapter Coffee- 1807), the editor of Shakespeare. house, London.' 2 According to Cunningham the s The Catalogue of Engravers, letter was addressed to 'Mr. I. R., 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 89 the gout ; a reflection that has made me give over all thoughts of troubling the public any more, which has been too indulgent to me already. If you were inclined to be still more kind to me, it would be by letting me have the pleasure of knowing to whom I am so much indebted. I shall not be in town to stay, probably, till after Christmas, and then should be very glad to wait on you or to see you in Arlington Street, to assure you how much I am, Sir, Your obliged and obedient humble servant, Hoe. Walpole. 1577. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberiy Hill, Nov. 12, 1774. I have received a delightful letter from you of four sheets, and another since. I shall not reply to the cam paigning part (though much obliged to you for it), because I have twenty other subjects more pressing to talk of. The first is to thank you for your excessive goodness to my dear old friend x — she has some indiscretions, and you must not have any to her; but she has the best heart in the world, and I am happy, at her great age, that she has spirits enough not to be always upon her guard. A bad heart, especially after long experience, is but too apt to overflow inwardly with prudence. At least, as I am but too like her, and have corrected too few of my faults, I would fain persuade myself that some of them flow from a good principle — but I have 'not time to talk of myself, though you are much too partial to me, and give me an opportunity ; yet I shall not take it. Now for English news, and then your letter again. There has been a great mortality here ; though Death has rather Letter 1577. — * Madame du Deffand. 90 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi been prii than a volunteer. Bradshaw (as I told Lady Aylesbury last post) shot himself. He is dead, totally undone. Whether that alone was the cause, or whether he had not done something worse, I doubt. I cannot conceive that, with his resources, he should have been hopeless — and, to suspect him of delicacy, impossible ! A ship is arrived from America, and I doubt with very bad news ; for none but trifling letters have yet been given out — but I am here, see nobody that knows anything, and only hear by accident from people that drop in. The sloop that is to bring the result of the general assembly is not yet come. There are indeed rumours, that both the non importation and even non-exportation have been decreed2, and that the flame is universal. I hope this is exaggerated ! yet I am told the stocks will fall very much in a day or two. I have nothing to tell Lady Aylesbury, but that I hear a deplorable account of the Opera. There is a new puppet- show at Drury Lane, as fine as scenes can make it, called The Maid of the Oaks *, and as dull as the author could not help making it. Except M. d'Herouville *, I know all the people you name. C. I doubt, by things I have heard formerly, may have been a concussionnaire. The Duke, your protecteur5, is mediocre enough ; you would have been more pleased with his wife. 2 ' During their sittings in the was originally acted at The Oaks, autumn of 1774 the Congress passed Epsom, on the occasion of the mar- resolutions to suspend all imports, riage of Lord Stanley (Burgoyne's or use of imports, from Great Britain nephew" by marriage) to Lady Betty or Ireland, or any of their depen- Hamilton. dancies, after the first day of * Antoine Ricouart (d. 1782), December next, and all exports to Comte d'Herouville de Claye, a those countries after the 10th of Sep- military writer. tember in the year ensuing, unless 6 The Due de la Valiere ;" of whom American grievances should be re- Mr. Conway had said that when dressed before that time.' (Stanhope, presented to him his reception was History of England, ed. 1853-4, vol. what might be called good, but vi. p. 16.) rather de protection. Berry. 3 By Colonel John Burgoyne. It 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 91 The Chevalier's6 bon mot is excellent, and so is he. He has as much bouffonnerie as the Italians, with more wit and novelty. His impromptu verses often admirable. Get Madame du Deffand to show you his embassy to the Princess Christine7, and his verses on his eldest uncle, beginning Si Monsieur de Veaus. His second uncle has 6 The Chevalier de Boufflers. 7 The Princess Christina of Saxony, Abbess of Remiremont. On the death of her father, the King of Poland, the Chevalier was sent to her with a message of condolence from the ex-King Stanislaus Lec- zinski, to whose household the Chevalier at that time belonged. On his return M. de Boufflers ob tained leave to write the account of his embassy, which he did in verse. In order to understand the song ' it should be known that the Princess was very plain, and had very full cheeks, that the Chevalier had one side of his face much swelled at the time, and that he was aUowed for his trouble only the expense of the post-horses.' Bicit du Voyage. * Enyvre du brillant poste, Que j'occupe maintenant, Dans une chaise de poste, Je me campe fierement ; Et je vais, en Ambassade, Au nom de mon Souverain, Dire, que je suis mala.de, Et que Luy se porte bien. Avec une joue enfi.ee, Je dfibarque tout honteux ; La Princesse boursouffl6e, Au lieu d'une, en avait deux, Et son Altesse Sauvage Sans doute a trouvS mauvais, Que j'eusse sur mon visage La moitie de ses attraits.' . Compliment de VAmbassadeur. 'Princesse, le Roi mon maitre Pour Ambassadeur m'a pris ; Je viens vous faire connaitre Les feux dont il est epris : Quand vous seriez sous le ehaume, H donnerait (m'a-t-il dit) La moitie de son royaume Pour celle de votre lit.' Bicit. ' La Princesse a son pupitre Compose un remerciment, Puis, me remet une epitre, Que j'emporte lestement. Et je m'en vais dans la rue Fort satisfait d'ajouter A l'honneur de l'avoir vue Le plaisir de la quitter. Dans ces beaux lieux en reven- ant, Je quitte l'Excellence ; Et je recois, pour traitement, Cent-vingt livres de France.' (Memo irsof Laetitia Matilda Hawkins, 1824, vol. ii. pp. 208-9.) 8 The impromptu in question was prompted by the contrast between the beauty of the Duo de Beauvau and the plainness of M. de Vaux, colleague of the Due in the house hold of the ex-King Stanislaus. It runs as follows : — 1 Si Monsieur de Vaux Etait un peu plus beau, Que Monsieur de Beauvau Flit un peu moins beau ; Ce Monsieur de Vaux Serait un beau veau, Et Monsieur de Beauvau Ne serait plus qu'un veau. Mes parentes Et mes tantes Seraient un troupeau Des Nymphes I O. Si Monsieur, &c. Puis on les bouillirait, Puis on les r6tirait ; En blanquettes, En croquettes, 92 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi parts, but they are not so natural. Madame de Caraman 9 is a very good kind of woman, but has not a quarter of her sister's parts. Madame de Mirepoix is the agreeable woman of the world when she pleases — but there must not be a card in the room. Lord 10 has acted like himself ; that is, unlike anybody else. You know, I believe, that I think him a very good speaker ; but I have little opinion of his judgement and knowledge of the world, and a great opinion of his affectation and insincerity. The Abbe Eaynal, though he wrote that fine work on the Commerce des Deux Indes, is the most tiresome creature in the world. The first time I met him was at the dull Baron d'Olbach's: we were twelve at table : I dreaded opening my mouth in French, before so many people and so many servants : he began questioning me, 'cross the table, about our colonies, which I understand as I do Coptic. I made him signs I was deaf. After dinner he found I was not, and never forgave me. Mademoiselle de Eaucoux u I never saw till you told me Madame du Deffand said she was demoniaque sans chaleurl What painting ! I see her now. Le Kain sometimes pleased me, oftener not. Mole 1J is charming in genteel or in pathetic comedy, and would be fine in tragedy, if he was stronger. Preville ls is always perfection. I like his wife in affected parts, though not animated enough. There was a delightful woman who did the Lady Wishforts, I don't know if there still, I think her name Mademoiselle Drouin " ; and a fat woman, rather elderly, who sometimes acted the On les servirait, who was in Paris in the autumn of On les mangerait. 1774. Si Monsieur,' &c. u Francoise Clairien Rauconrt (Memoirs, as above, vol. ii. p. 211.) (1753-1815). 8 Anne Gabrielle de Chimai, 12 Franjois Renfi Mole (1734- daughter of Alexandre Gabriel 1802). d' Alsace Hennin Liitard, Prince de 13 Pierre Louis Dubus, known as Chimai, and wife of the Comte de Pr<5 ville (1721-1799). Caraman. Her sister was the Vi- 14 Marie Michelle Angelique comtesse de Cambis. Drouin (1731-1794), was in fact Pre- 10 Apparently Lord Shelburne, ville's wife. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 93 soubrette. But you have missed the Dumenil, and Caillaut15 ! What irreparable losses! Madame du Deffand, perhaps— I don't know — could obtain your hearing the Clairon — yet the Dumenil was infinitely preferable. I could now almost find in my heart to laugh at you for liking Boutin's garden IS. Do you know that I drew a plan of it, as the completest absurdity I ever saw ? What ! a river that wriggles at right angles through a stone gutter, with two tansy puddings that were dug out of it, and three or four beds in a row, by a corner of the wall, with samples of grass, corn, and of en friche, like a tailor's paper of patterns ! And you like this ! I will tell Park Place — Oh, I had forgot your audience in dumb-show — Well, as Madame de Sevigne said, 'Le Eoi de Prusse, c'est le plus grand Eoi du monde' still17. My love to the old Parlia ment; I don't love new ones. I went several times to Madame de Monconseil's, who is just what you say. Mesdames de Tingri et de la Vauguion18 I never saw: Madame de Noailles once or twice, and enough. You say something of Madame Mallet, which I could not read ; for, by the way, your brother and I agree that you are grown not to write legibly: is that lady in being? 15 Joseph Caillot (1732-1816), a may be sure I was well received, celebrated performer in Italian the French are so polite ! and their comedy. He retired in 1772. court so polished! — The Emperor 16 See another ludicrous descrip- indeed talked to me every day; so tion of this garden in a letter to did the King of Prussia regularly Mr. Chute. Walpole. — The letter of and much : but this was not to be August 5, 1771 ; that to the Coun- compared to the extraordinary recep- tess of Ossory of Aug. 11, 1771, con- tion of his Most Christian Majesty, tains a plan of the garden. who, when I was presented, did not 17 Miss Berry notes that this stop, nor look to see what sort of an alludes to General Conway's presen- animal was offered to his notice, tation to Louis XVI at Fontaine- but carried his head, as it seemed, bleau, of which, in his letter to Mr. somewhat higher, and passed his Walpole, he gives the following ac- way.' count : — ' On St. Hubert's day in the 18 Marie Francoise de Bethune- morning I had the honour of being Charost, daughter of the Due de presented to the King : 'twas a good Bethune ; m. (1734) the Duo de la day aud an excellent deed. You Vauguyon. 94 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774 I knew her formerly. Madame de Blot19 I know, and Monsieur de Paulmy 20 1 know ; but for Heaven's sake who is Colonel Conway21? Mademoiselle Sanadon is la sana donna, and not Mademoiselle Celadon112, as you call her. Pray assure my good Monsieur Schouvaloff of my great regard : he is one of the best of beings. I have said all I could, at least all I should. I reserve the rest of my paper for a postscript ; for this is but Saturday, and my letter cannot depart till Tuesday : but I could not for one minute defer answering your charming volumes, which interest me so much. I grieve for Lady Harriet's 23 swelled face, and wish for both their sakes she could transfer it to her father. I assure her I meant nothing by desiring you to see the verses to the Princess Christine, wherein there is very profane mention of a pair of swelled cheeks. I hear nothing of Madame d'Olonne 2i. Oh, make Madame du Deffand show you the sweet portrait of Madame de Prie, the Duke of Bourbon's mistress 25. Have you seen Madame de Monaco, and the remains of Madame de Brionne? If you wish to see Mrs. A , ask for the Princesse de Ligne. If you have seen Monsieur de Maurepas, you have seen the late Lord Hardwicke26. By your not naming him, I suppose the Due de Nivernois is not at Paris. Say a great deal for 19 Marie Cecile Pauline d'Ennerie, 24 The beautiful miniature of wife of Gilbert de Chavigni, Baron Madame d'Olonne, now at Straw- de Blot. berry Hill. Walpole. 2° Marc Antoine Rene Le Voyer 26 This portrait is now at Straw- (1722-1787), Marquis de Paulmy, berry Hill. Walpole. — Agnes Ber- son of the Marquis d' Argenson, thelot de Pleneuf (d. 1727), Marquise sometime Minister for Foreign de Prie, mistress of the Due de Affairs. Bourbon, who became Prime Minis- 21 An officer in the French service. ter on the death of the Regent Walpole. Origans, and who was disgraced in 22 Mademoiselle Sanadon, a lady 1726. At the same time the Mar- who lived with Madame du Deffand. quise de Prie was exiled to Nor- Walpole. mandy, where she committed suicide 23 Lady Harriet Stanhope, after- by poison in the following year. wards married to Lord Foley, was 26 He means from their personal at this time at Paris with her father resemblance. Walpole. the Earl of Harrington. Walpole. 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 95 me to M. de Guisnes. You will not see my passion, the Duchess de Chatillon 27. If you see Madame de Nivernois, you will think the Duke of Newcastle is come to life again. Alas ! where is my postscript ? Adieu ! 1578. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 14, 1774. I should not have been silent so long, Madam, had I had anything agreeable to tell you ; but really the times are so melancholy, that I do not care to trouble my friends with my gloomy reflections. I do not indeed know what is the matter, nor what I am so grieved about, but still as long as I see that There is something rotten in the state of Denmark, I am too good a patriot or courtier, which is the same thing, not to have my bosom full of cares and anxiety. Portents and prodigies have grown so frequent That they have lost their name. I cannot say that the Thames has run backwards or overflown Eichmond Hill, that the stars drop out of their sockets, that I have heard wolves howl at noonday, or that the churchyard has given up its dead to frighten people into their senses, instead of out of them, as ghosts one should think would do, if one did not know the contrary from the best authorities. Still indubitably the times are out of joint, and one must despair of the commonwealth, when Marcus Portius Bradshaw falls by his own hand, and Scotch dukes fall into horse-ponds as they are taking a walk in a fine November evening ; but I will not fill your Ladyship's mind with the apprehensions that these omens have raised in mine ; I will quit the subject, and answer your letter. 27 So in the printed editions, but read Chatelet. 96 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [mi You do me a great deal too much honour in suspecting me of writing a speech for the new senator. All the good things in that speech were George Selwyn's, and have been repeated in every coffee-house in town these three weeks ; and though I am sorry my nephew's madness has exposed him to the dirty malice of anybody that had too little generosity not to take advantage of it, I should not have been the person certainly to joke on such an occasion, divert the town at the expense of so near a relation, to whom I trust I have shown very different attention. Mad ness is an excuse for my nephew ; they who make a friend of Macreth without being out of their senses have I suppose very good or very bad reasons for it. Don't imagine, Madam, that I shall congratulate you on the sale of your house, at least not till I hear you have bought another. I still less can compliment you on Lord Ossory's flinging away so much money on an election, and not for himself, who was sure of his own seat. However, I do not deny but there was a greatness of mind in it, at least gratitude, considering the many favours he has re ceived, and that he is the only one of his connection that has received any. I am not settled in Arlington Street, nor shall be till after Christmas, Madam. I grow so old, that I find the quiet composed life I lead here more agreeable than the ways of London, and the same eternal round of the very same things. I am making catalogues of my collection, building a hothouse, ranging my medals which I have brought hither, sorting and burning papers, in short, setting my house in order against a certain time that happens but once in one's life, and which one has not time to think of in town. I have consequently not seen Armida nor Mrs. Abingdon's coiffure, which I conclude consists of as many plumes as the helmet of Otranto. The only time 1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 97 I saw Lady Mary Somerset she had moulted her feathers, and wore a hat over her nose, so I only fell in love with her chin. The measles I had in the last century, and as it is one of the juvenile attributes that one does not cut a second time, like one's colt's tooth and a caper, I shall take care not to appear in public till the fashion is over, that I may be cense to be confined with a red face instead of a very pale one. I rejoice for Lady Louisa's sake that the measles leave no marks: she will lose nothing by a fort night's eclipse. The only new thing I know is that I have heard Leoni, and don't remember that I ever was so pleased with a voice since you were born ; and yet he was hoarse, by an accident which the Jews don't quite prevent. 1579. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Nov. 23, 1774. I am in town, Madam, and in great distress. I have lost a most faithful friend and servant, my deputy Mr. Tullie \ and as I am a Boi Faineant, I know not how to conduct my own affairs. One's first thought you may be sure is to send for Lord Chatham, but as I have difficulties enough, I don't want to be helped into more ; and therefore I shall leave that resource to my heir-apparent, Mr. Martin, and only consult my friends. It is some comfort to me that Mr. Tullie did not die en ministre, but in his bed. The nation had another great loss last night : Lord Clive went off suddenly. He had been sent for to town by one of his Indian friends — and died. You may imagine, Madam, all that is said already. In short, people will be forced to die before as many witnesses as an old queen is brought to bed, or the coroner will be sent for. Letter 1579. — ' Joseph Tullie, Deputy Usher of the Exchequer, walpole. ix H 98 To Sir Horace Mann [1774 Have you got the History of the Troubadours ? It is very curious: I have longed for it several years, and yet am cruelly disappointed. St. Palaye was too old to put his materials together ; his friends called ' Odd man ! ' and nothing was ever so dully executed. You will say of the chapters, as I did of the houses at Paris, there is such a sameness, that one does not know whether one is in that one is in, or in that one came out of. Lord H. has just been here, and told me the manner of Lord Clive's death. Whatever had happened, it had flung him into convulsions, to which he was very subject. Dr. Fothergill gave him, as he had done on like occasions, a dose of laudanum, but the pain in his bowels was so violent, that he asked for a second dose. Dr. Fothergill said, if he took another, he would be dead in an hour. The moment Fothergill was gone, he swallowed another, for another it seems stood by him, and he is dead. I am very sorry to hear Lord Holland is so ill. Does not Lord Ossory come to renew his senatorial dignity ? 1580. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 24, 1774. I thank you, my dear Sir, for your news of the Conclave and of the Duchess1 and her ship-load of plunder. If the captain carries it off, it will be but an episode well suited to the history. I shall like a continuation of both subjects. As you only say that you mentioned a certain election to the Countess2, I conclude you had not yet received my letter for her. The interlude of Macreth has given so much offence, that, after having run the gauntlet, he has Letter 1680.— i The Duchess of 2 Countess Orford, living at Kingston. Walpole. Florence. Walpole. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 99 been persuaded to be modest and give up his seat 3. I should not say give, but sell it. I do not believe the buyer will be much more creditable ; but, happily, I am free from all this disgraceful transaction. I have informed myself from Mr. Croft about your nephew; he and his wife are in the south of France and are to winter there, but will make you a visit in the spring before their return. However, as they probably will not stay long, forgive me if I say I think you had better lodge them. Will it be difficult with your temper to be patient and complying ; and to Gal's son ! I am persuaded you will like him ; and when he sees an uncle so like his father in all goodness, can it but make impression on him ? And if you can effect the least good is it not worth your while ? The wife's family too demands attention. A great event happened two days ago — a political and moral event ; the sudden death of that second Kouli Khan, Lord Clive. There was certainly illness in the case; the world thinks more than illness. His constitution was ex ceedingly broken and disordered, and grown subject to violent pains and convulsions. He came unexpectedly to town last Monday, and they say, ill. On Tuesday his physician gave him a dose of laudanum, which had not the desired effect. On the rest, there are two stories ; one, that the physician repeated the dose ; the other, that he doubled it himself, contrary to advice. In short, he has terminated at fifty a life of so much glory, reproach, art, wealth, and ostentation ! He had just named ten members for the new Parliament. Next Tuesday that Parliament is to meet; — and a deep game it has to play! few Parliaments a greater. The world is in amaze here that no account is arrived from America of the result of their General Congress — if any 8 Macreth did not retire. H 2 100 To Sir Horace Mann [i774 is come it is very secret ; and that has no favourable aspect. The combination and spirit there seem to be universal, and is very alarming. I am the humble servant of events, and you know never meddle with prophecy. It would be difficult to descry good omens, be the issue what it will. The old French Parliament is restored with great eclat. Monsieur de Maurepas, author of the revolution, was received one night at the Opera with boundless shouts of applause. It is even said that the mob intended, when the King should go to hold the lit de justice, to draw his coach. How singular it would be if Wilkes's case should be copied for a King of France ! Do you think Eousseau was in the right, when he said that he could tell what would be the manners of any capital city, from certain given lights? I don't know what he may do on Constantinople and Pekin — but Paris and London! I don't believe Voltaire likes these changes. I have seen nothing of his writing for many months; not even on the poisoning Jesuits 4. For our part, I repeat it, we shall contribute nothing to the Histoire des Moeurs, not for want of materials, but for want of writers. We have comedies without novelty, gross satires without stings, metaphysical eloquence, and antiquarians that discover nothing. Boeotum in crasso jurares aere natos! Don't tell me I am grown old and peevish and supercilious — name the geniuses of 1774, and I submit. The next Augustan age will dawn on the other side of the Atlantic. There will, perhaps, be a Thucydides at Boston, a Xenophon at New York, and, in time, a Virgil at Mexico, and a Newton at Peru. At last, some curious traveller from Lima will visit England and give a description of the ruins of St. Paul's, like the editions of Balbec and Palmyra; but am I not 4 They poisoned Pope Ganganelli. Walpole. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 101 prophesying, contrary to my consummate prudence, and casting horoscopes of empires like Eousseau ? Yes ; well, I will go and dream of my visions. 29th. P.S. Macreth ayant bu sa honte is determined to continue a member, like the rest of the world. The Ecclesiastical Court, I hear, has decided, and will pronounce, that the person commonly called Duchess of Kingston is a certain Mrs. Hervey. The new Lord Holland6 is dead — stay; you must not believe a word I tell you. Truth in this climate won't keep sweet four-and-twenty hours. Lord Bristol says nothing can be done against the Duchess of Kingston. The Parliament opened just now — they say the speech talks of the rebellion " of the province of Massachusetts ; but if they-say tells a lie, I wash my hands of it. As your gazetteer, I am obliged to send you all news, true or false. I have believed and unbelieved everything I have heard since I came to town. Lord Clive has died every death in the parish register; at present it is most fashionable to believe he cut his throat. That he is dead, is certain ; so is Lord Holland — and so is not the Bishop of Worcester 7 ; however, to show you that I am at least as well informed as greater personages, the bishopric was on Saturday given to Lord North's brother8 — so for once the Irishman was in the right, and a pigeon, at least a dove, can be in two places at once. 6 Stephen Fox, second Lord Hoi- 1820), second son of first Earl of land. Walpole. Guilford by his second wife, and 6 This was not the case. half-brother of Lord North ; Bishop 7 James Johnson, Bishop of Wor- of Lichfield, 1771-74 ; of Worcester, cester, died on Nov. 26, 1774. 1774-81 ; of Winchester, 1781-1820. 8 Hon. Brownlow North (1741- 102 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi 1581. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Arlington Street, Nov. 27, 1774. I have received your delightful plump packet with a letter of six pages, one from Madame du Deffand, the Eloges1, and the lit de justice. Now, observe my gratitude : I appoint you my resident at Paris ; but you are not to resemble all our ministers abroad, and expect to live at home, which would destroy my Lord Castlecomer 's view in your staying at Paris. However, to prove to you that I have some gratitude that is not totally selfish, I will tell you what little news I know, before I answer your letter ; for English news, to be sure, is the most agreeable circum stance in a letter from England. On my coming to town yesterday, there was nothing but more deaths — don't you think we have the plague? The Bishop of Worcester, Lord Breadalbane2, Lord Strathmore3. The first fell from his horse, or with his horse, at Bath, and the bishopric was incontinently given to Bishop North. America is still more refractory, and I doubt will outvote the ministry. They have picked General Gage's pocket of three pieces of cannon, and intercepted some troops that were going to him. Sir William Draper is writing plans of pacification in our newspapers ; and Lord Chatham flatters himself that he shall be sent for when the patient is given over ; which I don't think at all unlikely to happen. My poor nephew4 is very political too: so we shall not want mad-doctors. Apropos, I hear Wilkes says he will propose Macreth for Speaker. The Ecclesiastical Court are come to a resolution that the Letter 1581. — l Of La Fontaine, s This was a false report. by Chamfort and La Harpe. * George Walpole, Earl of Orford. 2 Lord Breadalbane lived until Walpole. 1782. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 103 Duchess of Kingston is Mrs. Hervey ; and the sentence will be public in a fortnight. It is not so certain that she will lose the estate. Augustus ' is not in a much more pleasant predicament than she is. I saw Lord Bristol last night : he looks perfectly well, but his speech is much affected, and his right hand. Lady Lyttelton, who, you know, never hears anything that has happened, wrote to me two days ago, to ask if it would not be necessary for you to come over for the meeting of the Parliament. I answered, very gravely, that to be sure you ought : but though Sir James Morgan threatened you loudly with a petition, yet, as it could not be heard till after Christmas, I was afraid you would not be persuaded to come sooner. I hope she will inquire who Sir James Morgan is, and that people will persuade her she has made a confusion about Sir James Peachy. Now for your letter. I have been in the Chambre de Parlement, I think they call it the Grande Chambre ; and was shown the corner in which the monarchs sit, and do not wonder you did not guess where it was they sat. It is just like the dark corner, under the window, where I always sat in the House of Commons. What has happened has passed exactly according to my ideas. When one King breaks one Parliament, and another another, what can the result be but despotism6? or of what else is it a proof? If a Tory king displaces his father's Whig Lord Chamberlain, neither Lord Chamberlain has the more or the less power over the theatres and court mournings and Birthday balls. All that can arrive is, that the people will be still more attached to the old Parliament, from this seeming restitution of a right — but the people 6 Augustus Hervey, to whom she own supreme authority, and warned was first married. Walpole. the members of the Parliament 6 At a lit de justice held on the against interference in matters which occasion of the restoration of the might bring them into collision with Parliament of Paris, Louis XVI pro- the royal power. nounced strongly in favour of his 104 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi must have some power before their attachment can signify a straw. The old Parliament, too, may some time or other give itself more airs on this confession of right; but that too cannot be but in a minority, or when the power of the crown is lessened by reasons that have nothing to do with the Parliament. I will answer for it, they will be too grateful to give umbrage to their restorer. Indeed, I did not think the people would be so quick-sighted at once, as to see the distinction of old and new was without a difference. Methinks France and England are like the land and the sea ; one gets a little sense when the other loses it. I am quite satisfied with all you tell me about my friend 7. My intention is certainly to see her again, if I am able ; but I am too old to lay plans, especially when it depends on the despot gout to register or cancel them. It is even melancholy to see her, when it will probably be but once more ; and still more melancholy, when we ought to say to one another, in a different sense from the common, au revoir ! However, as mine is a pretty cheerful kind of philosophy, I think the best way is to think of dying, but to talk and act as if one was not to die ; or else one tires other people, and dies before one's time. I have truly all the affection and attach ment for her that she deserves from me, or I should not be so very thankful as I am for your kindness to her. The Choiseuls will certainly return at Christmas, and will make her life much more agreeable. The Duchess has as much attention to her as I could have ; but that will not keep me from making her a visit. I have only seen, not known, the younger Madame de Boufflers8- For her musical talents, I am little worthy of them — yet I am just going to Lady Bingham's to hear the Bastardella8, whom, though the first singer in Italy, 7 Madame du Deffand. harpist. 8 Amffie Desaleurs, Comtesse de 9 Lncrezia Agujari (d. 1783), so Boufflers. She was an accomplished called in allusion to her birth. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymom Conway 105 Mrs. Yates10 could not or would not agree with11; and she is to have twelve hundred pounds for singing twelve times at the Pantheon, where, if she had a voice as loud as Lord Clare's, she could not be heard. The two bons mots you sent me are excellent; but, alas! I had heard them both before ; consequently your own, which is very good too, pleased me much more. M. de Stainville 12 1 think you will not like: he has sense, but has a dry military harshness, that at least did not suit me — and then I hate his barbarity to his wife13. You was very lucky indeed to get one of the sixty tickets14. Upon the whole, your travels have been very fortunate, and the few mortifications amply compensated. If a Duke 1B has been spiteful when your back was turned, a Hero-King 16 has been all courtesy. If another King " has been silent, an Emperor18 has been singularly gracious. Frowns or silence may happen to anybody : the smiles have been addressed to you particularly. So was the ducal frown indeed — but would you have earned a smile at the price set on it ? One cannot do right and be always applauded — but in such cases are not frowns tantamount ? As my letter will not set forth till the day after to-morrow, I reserve the rest for my additional news, and this time will reserve it. St. Parliament's day, 29th, after breakfast. The Speech is said to be firm, and to talk of the rebellion of our province of Massachusetts. No sloop is yet arrived to tell us how to call the rest. Mr. Van " is to move for the 10 Anna Maria Yates (d. 1787), " To witness the opening of the actress j at this time Joint-Manager restored Parliament. of the Opera. 15 The Duo de Choiseul. " To sing at the Opera. Walpole. 16 The King of Prussia. 12 The Comte de Choiseul-Stain- 17 Louis XVI. ville, brother of the Due de ChoiseuL ,8 Joseph II. 13 Upon a suspicion of gallantry, 19 CharleB Van, M.P. for Brecon. she was confined for life. Walpole. 106 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi expulsion of Wilkes ; which will distress, and may produce an odd scene. Lord Holland is certainly dead ; the papers say Eobinson20 too, but that I don't know: — so many deaths of late make report kill to right and left. 1582. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Arlington Street, Dec. 15, 1774. As I wrote to Lady Aylesbury but on Tuesday, I should not have followed it so soon with this, if I had nothing to tell you but of myself. My gouts are never dangerous, and the shades of them not important. However, to dispatch this article at once, I will tell you that the pain I felt yesterday in my elbow made me think all former pain did not deserve the name. Happily the torture did not last above two hours ; and, which is more surprising, it is all the real pain I have felt ; for though my hand has been as sore as if flayed, and that both feet are lame, the bootikins demonstrably prevent or extract the sting of it, and I see no reason not to expect to get out in a fortnight more. Surely, if I am laid up but one month in two years, instead of five or six, I have reason to think the bootikins sent from heaven. The long-expected sloop is arrived at last, and is, indeed, a man of war ! The General Congress have voted a non importation, a non-exportation, a non-consumption ; that, in case of hostilities committed by the troops at Boston, the several provinces will march to the assistance of their countrymen ; that the cargoes of ships now at sea shall be sold on their arrival, and the money arising thence given to the poor at Boston ; that a letter, in the nature of a petition of rights, shall be sent to the King ; another to the House 20 John Robinson, M.P. for Har- he was not dead, but was disabled wich and Secretary to the Treasury ; by paralysis. 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 107 of Commons ; a third to the people of England ; a demand of repeal of all the Acts of Parliament affecting North America passed during this reign, as also of the Quebec Bill : and these resolutions not to be altered till such repeal is obtained. Well, I believe you do not regret being neither in Parhament nor in administration! As you are an idle man, and have nothing else to do, you may sit down and tell one a remedy for all this. Perhaps you will give yourself airs, and say you was a prophet, and that prophets are not honoured in their own country. Yet, if you have any inspiration about you, I assure you it will be of great service. We are at our wit's end — which was no great journey. Oh, you conclude Lord Chatham's crutch will be supposed a wand, and be sent for. They might as well send for my crutch ; and they should not have it ; the stile is a little too high to help them over. His Lordship is a httle fitter for raising a storm than laying one, and of late seems to have lost both virtues. The Americans at least have acted like men, gone to the bottom at once, and set the whole upon the whole. Our conduct has been that of pert children: we have thrown a pebble at a mastiff, and are surprised it was not frightened. Now we must be worried by it, or must kill the guardian of the house, which will be plundered the moment little master has nothing but the old nurse to defend it. But I have done with reflections ; you will be fuller of them than I. 1583. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Dec. 23, 1774. You will perceive by the change of writing that my hand hath lost its cunning. I had kept off the gout for two Lettee 1583. — Not in C. j now first printed from transcript in possession of Earl Waldegrave. 108 To Sir Horace Mann [mi months by the bootikins, but the mighty has prevailed, vanquished me and my armour, and bound me hand and foot above a fortnight. However, the talisman has had so much virtue that the wounds have not been deep, nor will the scars, I think, remain long. Yet for these last five days I have been very ill, less by the gout than by its conse quential weakness, which has chiefly affected my breast. I remember how I used to joke, on your wet-brown-paper- hood; alas! I, who was never of pasteboard, nor had a title to robust airs, seem now to be of Indian paper — but I am talking too much of myself, when I am thinking much more of you. I received a letter from you late last night that alarmed me. In it you speak of an attack of gout in terms that frighten me. I was so faint and feverish then that I could do nothing to help or quiet myself, for one cannot reason in the night on a painful pillow, so I lay thinking on you despondingly till six in the morning. As soon as I waked I sent to Mr. Croft, but he had heard nothing of you. However, as my head was grown a little clearer, I called for your letter again, and was rejoiced to find the date November the 18th, for I recollected that I had received another from you a fortnight ago whose date must be later, and so it proved, being of the 22nd. This last had brought me my Lady's answer, and that of the 18th only mentions your having delivered mine. Now the good 22nd says not a word of your illness continuing, and there fore I trust it was gone and forgotten. What the lazy 18th had been doing, or where it had stopped to drink, I don't know, but I wish it had broken its neck and never arrived ! I am glad there is an end of the other correspondence with all its high-flown compliments. The colours, however, given to the calmness are not strictly exact. The agents here could not have prevented what has happened, unless 1774] To Sir Horace Mann 109 they had received fuller powers ; and it is to disguise that very ill-judged and timid policy that the blame is now laid on the sudden dissolution. However, if people are so very wise as to dupe themselves, it is no business of mine, nor shall I think any more about it. I am so confined and able to see so little company that it is impossible I should tell you anything more than you can read in the common newspapers. The new Parliament has done nothing but common business, and appointed hearings of contested elections. What it will do after the holidays, I wish it knew itself! It must be wiser than any of its predecessors if it can remedy what the two last of them have done. In short, all North America is in a flame, and I don't see whatever the future measures shall be, but they will be new barrels of oil. However, as the quintessence of the wisdom of the nation does not lie in my head, for I did not inherit the head in which it once did lie, and as mine will probably be laid long before these troubles are at an end, I shall not trouble myself with what I can neither cure nor expect to see terminated happily. Lord Chatham's eldest daughter is married to Lord Mahon, Lord Stanhope's son and a descendant of your old Baileys 1 and Binnings, so I make you my compliments, though I believe you are like me and don't carry on your attach ments to third and fourth generations, which are never so heraldically reciprocal. Pray don't let Gatti 2 persuade you into the gout, but if he does, pray submit to it quietly. You may take out its sting by the bootikins, but if you resist it, it is such a Proteus, that it will slip into the shape of a palsy, and be even with you. Adieu ! I am weary, and must bid you good night. 1 Mr. Bailey, a Soot, who by his Stanhope. Walpole. wife Griselda was father of Lady s Dr. Gatti, a Florentine phy- Binning, mother of the Earl of sician, who lived long at Paris. Haddington, and of the Countess of Walpole. 110 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi 1584. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Arlington Street, Dee. 26, 1774. I begin my letter to-day, to prevent the fatigue of dic tating two to-morrow. In the first and best place, I am very near recovered ; that is, though still a mummy, I have no pain left, nor scarce any sensation of gout except in my right hand, which is still in complexion and shape a lobster's claw. Now, unless anybody can prove to me that three weeks are longer than five months and a half, they will hardly convince me that the bootikins are not a cure for fits of the gout, and a very short cure, though they cannot prevent it : nor perhaps is it to be wished they should ; for if the gout prevents everything else, would not one have something that does ? I have but one single doubt left about the bootikins, which is, whether they do not weaken my breast : but as I am sensible that my own spirits do half the mischief, and that, if I could have held my tongue, and kept from talking and dictating letters, I should not have been half so bad as I have been, there remains but half due to bootikins on the balance : and surely the ravages of the last long fit, and two years more in age, ought to make another deduction. Indeed, my forcing myself to dictate my last letter to you almost killed me ; and since the gout is not dangerous to me, if I am kept perfectly quiet, my good old friend J must have patience, and not insist upon letters from me but when it is quite easy to me to send them. So much for me and my gout. I will now endeavour to answer such parts of your last letters as I can in this manner, and considering how difficult it is to read your writing in a dark room. Letter 1584. — l Madame du Deffand. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 111 I have not yet been able to look into the French harangues you sent me. Voltaire's verses to Eobert Covelle are not only very bad, but very contemptible. I am delighted with all the honours you receive, and with all the amusements they procure you, which is the best part of honours. For the glorious part, I am always like the man in Pope's Donne, Then happy he who shows the tombs, said I2. That is, they are least troublesome there. The Serenissime 3 you met at Montmorency is one of the least to my taste ; we quarrelled about Eousseau, and I never went near him after my first journey. Madame du Deffand will tell you the story, if she has not forgotten it. It is supposed here that the new proceedings of the French Parliament will produce great effects : I don't sup pose any such thing. What America will produce I know still less ; but certainly something very serious. The merchants have summoned a meeting for the second of next month, and the petition from the Congress to the King has arrived. The heads have been shown to Lord Dartmouth4; but I hear one of the agents is against presenting it ; yet it is thought it will be delivered, and then be ordered to be laid before Parliament. The whole affair has already been talked of there on the army and navy days ; and Burke, they say, has shone with amazing wit and ridicule on the late inactivity of Gage, and his losing his cannon and straw ; on his being entrenched in a town with an army of observation ; with that army being, as Sir William Meredith had said, an asylum for magistrates,, and to secure the port. Burke said he had heard of an asylum for debtors and whores, never for magistrates ; and » ' Then happy Man who shows the tombs ! said 1.' — Sat. viii. 1. 102. 3 The Prince de Conti. Walpole. 4 The Colonial Secretary, 112 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [mi of ships, never of armies, securing a port. This is all there has been in Parliament but elections. Charles Fox's place did not come into question. Mr. 5, who is one of the new elect, has opened, but with no success. There is a seaman, Luttrell 6, that promises much better. I am glad you like the Duchesse de Lauzun : she is one of my favourites. The H6tel du Chatelet promised to be very fine, but was not finished when I was last at Paris. I was much pleased with the person that slept against St. Lambert's poem : I wish I had thought of the nostrum, when Mr. Seward, a thousand years ago, at Lyons, would read an epic poem to me just as I had received a dozen letters from England. St. Lambert is a great jackanapes, and a very tiny genius. I suppose the poem was The Seasons, which is four fans spun out into a Georgic. If I had not been too ill, I should have thought of bidding you hear midnight mass on Christmas Eve in Madame du Deffand's tribune, as I used to do. To be sure, you know that her apartment was part of Madame du Montespan's, whose arms are on the back of the grate in Madame du Deffand's own bedchamber. Apropos, ask her to show you Madame de Prie's picture, M. le Due's 7 mistress— I am very fond of it — and make her tell you her history. I have but two or three words more. Eemember my parcel of letters from Madame du Deffand, and pray re member this injunction, not to ruin yourself in bringing presents. A very slight fairing of a guinea or two obliges 6 The name is left blank in all 6 Hon. John Luttrell (d. 1829), the editions. The person in ques- M.P. for Stockbridge; third son of tion was probably David Hartley first Baron Iraham (afterwards (1732-1813), M.P. for Hull, 'much created Earl of Carhampton); took versed in finances, and friend of the additional name of Olmius, Lord Rockingham, had written 1787 ; succeeded his brother as third several political tracts, and was now Earl of Carhampton in 1821. in Parliament for the first time.' 7 The Due de Bourbon. (Last Journals, vol. i. p. 436, note.) 1774] To George Augustus Selwyn 113 as much, is more fashionable, and not a moment sooner forgotten than a magnificent one ; and then you may very cheaply oblige the more persons; but as the sick fox in Gay's Fables says (for one always excepts oneself), A chicken too might do me good I allow you to go as far as three or even five guineas for a snuff-box for me : and then, as 8 told the King, when he asked for the reversion of the lighthouse for two lives, and the King reproached him with having always advised him against granting reversions ; he replied, ' Oh, Sir, but if your Majesty will give me this, I will take care you shall never give away another.' Adieu, with my own left hand, Hob. Walpole. 1585. To George Augustus Selwyn. Deae SlB, Monday night, 9 o'clock. I am so much enjoined silence, that it is the more necessary for me to speak to you. I am utterly incapable of writing to Paris : I have nobody to write for me, and am not allowed to dictate above two or three lines. It would oblige me infinitely if that might be to you, either at the beginning or end of your letter, if you write to morrow. One at noon, or seven in the evening, are the cleverest hours for me — but I must not choose. Yours, &c, H. W. » So in all the editions ; the hero Letter 1585. — Not in C; reprinted of the anecdote was George Gren- from George Selwyn and his Content- ville. (See Memoirs of George III, ed. poraries, vol. iii. p. 39. 1894, vol. ii. p. 145 and note.) WALPOLE. IX I 114 To the Marquise du Deffand [mi 1586. To the Marquise du Deffand. De Londres, ce 26 De'cembre, 1774. Mais que vous etes une drole d'amie ! Vous avez tout l'air de vous rejouir de ma goutte, car votre premiere idee est d'en tirer deux lettres par semaine. D'ailleurs vous oubliez la premiere de toutes les regies, qui est, que c'est le malade qu'on doit menager, et non pas le malade qui doit menager ceux qui se portent bien; maxime echappee a personne depuis Adam, hormis a vous. Voici le fait. Vendredi j'avais ete oblige de dieter une grande lettre sur mes affaires, le moment apres arrive votre lettre, oil vous demandez deux lettres par semaine, l'une pour vous, l'autre pour mon cousin. Votre lettre d'ailleurs etant tres agre- able, je voulais vous complaire sur-le-champ. Mais n'ayant personne qui sut le francais, il fallut m'adresser a M. Conway. Bref, cette fatigue m'epuisa tellement que j'en perdis la voix, la respiration, et le pouls. Mais abregons. La goutte ne me fait de mal que quand je m'epuise, et je vous prie pour la quatrieme fois de vous en ressouvenir. Actuellement je me porte a merveille. Les bottines ont pass6 mon attente de cent piques, et je compte vous en envoyer une paire comme un ex-voto pour suspendre dans votre tribune sur la chapelle. Mon cousin vous dira le reste. II faut me depScher, car mon secretaire ', qui n'est qu'un visitant, n'a pas du temps de reste. J'ai envoye ce matin chez le marchand aux emeraudes : elles sont faites, mais pas polies, et les ouvriers ne veulent pas les achever qu'apres les fetes. Je vous serais tres oblige de la nouvelle Ninon, et j'en aurais grande impatience. Letter 1586. — Not in C. ; now first 1 Apparently Selwyn. See the printed from original in possession previous letter. of Mr. W. R. Parker- Jervis. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 115 Graces aussi pour le Sucre d'orge, et mille fois plus de graces pour les bonnes nouvelles de Madame d'Olonne a- Je vous prie de dire a Milady Aylesbury, que la meilleure maniere d'assurer tout ce qu'elle aura achete de porcelaines de Seve, c'est de l'envoyer directement a notre douane de Londres, adresse' a elle-meme. Je suis tres press6 de recevoir les nouvelles de l'arrivee de vos parents et de votre souper. Ne manquez pas de baiser mille fois la belle petite main de la belle petite grand'maman de ma part, et si vous pouvez sans heurter le front, son joli petit pied aussi. Ne le baisez pas, mais embrassez PAbb6 aussi. Bonsoir, car je n'en puis plus, et mon secretaire en est bien aise. P.S. Je ne compte d'ecrire a personne avant aujourd'hui en huit. 1587. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Arlington Street, Dec. 31, 1774. No child was ever so delighted to go into breeches, as I was this morning to get on a pair of cloth shoes as big as Jack Harris's : this joy may be the spirits of dotage — but what signifies whence one is happy? Observe, too, that this is written with my own right hand, with the bootikin actually upon it, which has no distinction of fingers: so I no longer see any miracle in Buckinger, who was famous for writing without hands or feet (as if it was indifferent which one uses, provided one has a pair of either). Take notice, I write so much better without fingers than with, that I advise you to try a bootikin. To be sure, the operation is a little slower ; but to a prisoner, the duration of his amusement is of far more consequence than the vivacity of it. 2 A miniature which Walpole wished to buy. I 2 116 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774 Last night I received your very kind, I might say your letter tout court, of Christmas Day. By this time I trust you are quite out of pain about me. My fit has been as regular as possible ; only, as if the bootikins were post- horses, it made the grand tour of all my limbs in three weeks. If it will always use the same expedition, I am content it should take the journey once in two years. You must not mind my breast : it was always the weakest part of a very weak system ; yet did not suffer now by the gout, but in consequence of it ; and would not have been near so bad, if I could have kept from talking and dictating letters. The moment I am out of pain, I am in high spirits ; and though I never take any medicines, there is one thing absolutely necessary to be put into my mouth — a gag. At present, the town is so empty that my tongue is a sinecure. I am well acquainted with the Bibliotheque du Eoi, and the medals, and the prints. I spent an entire day in looking over the English portraits, and kept the librarian without his dinner till dark night, till I was satisfied. Though the Choiseuls will not acquaint with you, I hope their Abbe Barthelemi1 is not put under the same quarantine. Besides great learning, he has infinite wit and polissonnerie, and is one of the best kind of men in the world. As to the grandpapa2, il ne nous aime pas nous autres, and has never forgiven Lord Chatham. Though exceedingly agreeable himself, I don't think his taste exquisite. Perhaps I was piqued ; but he seemed to hke Wood 3 better than any of us. Indeed, I am a little afraid that my dear friend's impetuous zeal may have been a little too prompt in pressing you upon them d'abord: — but don't say a word of this — Letter 1587. — i The author of the s Robert Wood, formerly Under Voyage dujeune Anacharsis. Walpole. Secretary of State, who lived for 2 A name given to the Due de Choi- some time in France. seul by Madame du Deffand. Walpole. 1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 117 it is her great goodness. — I thank you a million of times for all yours to her : — she is perfectly grateful for it. The Chevalier's4 verses are pretty enough. I own I like Saurin's6 much better than you seem to do. Perhaps I am prejudiced by the curse on the Chancellor 6 at the end. Not a word of news here. In a sick room one hears all there is, but I have not heard even a lie ; but as this will not set out these three days, it is to be hoped some charitable Christian will tell a body one. Lately indeed we heard that the King of Spain had abdicated ; but I believe it was some stockjobber that had deposed him. Lord George Cavendish, for my solace in my retirement, has given me a book, the history of his own Furness Abbey7, written by a Scotch ex-Jesuit. I cannot say that this un natural conjunction of a Cavendish and a Jesuit has pro duced a lively colt; but I found one passage worth any money. It is an extract of a constable's journal kept during the civil war ; and ends thus : ' And there was never heard of such troublesome and distracted times as these five years have been, but especially for constables? It is so natural, 4 The Chevalier de Boufflers. 'Amis, sa gloire l'embarrasse, 5 The verses were as follow : — H faudra pourtant qu'il s'y fasse : Mais filons doux, Sur Monsieur de Malesherbes, premier Et nous reposons sur l'histoire ; prtsident de la cour des aides. Sans plus lui parler de sa gloire, ' O ! qu'on aime la bonhomie Buvons y tous — Qui dans ta grande ame s'allie ' A celui qui si bien conseille Aux grands talents ! Son maitre, dont il a l'oreille f, Tout Paris fe*te Malesherbes, Buvons aussi Le plus grand et le moins superbe A sa sante — Je vous la porte, Des revenovns *. Mais disons que le diable emporte ' Jadis l'orateur qu'on renomme, 0n s9ait bien 1™ ! ' De l'exil revenu a Rome, 6 Maupeou. Eut meme aecueil: 7 The Antiquities of Furness, by Mais le Ciceron de la France Thomas West (1720-1779), a Jesuit De l'autre a toute l'<51oquence in charge of the English mission in Sans son orgueil. North Lancashire and Westmore land. * The members of the recalled Parliament were called les revenans. f Le Duo de Choiseul. Walpole. 118 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 that inconvenient to my Lord Castlecomer is scarce a better proverb. Pray tell Lady Ailesbury that though she has been so very good to me, I address my letters to you rather than to her, because my pen is not always upon its guard, but is apt to say whatever comes into its nib ; and then if she peeps over your shoulder, I am cense not to know it. Lady Harriet's wishes have done me great good : nothing but a father's gout could be obdurate enough to resist them. My Mrs. Damer says nothing to me ; but I give her intentions credit, and lay her silence on you. Jan. 1, 1775, and a happy New Year. I walk ! I walk ! walk alone ! — I have been five times quite round my rooms to-day, and my month is not up ! The day after to-morrow I shall go down into the dining- room ; the next week to take the air ; and then if Mrs. 8 is very pressing, why, I don't know what may happen. Well ! but you want news, there are none to be had. They think there is a ship lost with Gage's dispatches. Lady Temple gives all her diamonds to Miss Nugent 9. Lord Pigot lost 400 J. the other night at Princess Amelia's. Miss Davis has carried her cause against Mrs. Yates, and is to sing again at the Opera. This is all my coffee-house furnished this morning. 1588. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Jan. 1, 1775. This morning, Madam, as soon as my eyes opened, Philip stood before me, bearing in one hand a shining vest, and in 8 The name is left blank in all the Nugent in 1776) ; m. (1775) George editions. Grenville, afterwards Earl Temple 9 Hon. Mary Elizabeth Nugent, and Marquis of Buckingham j d. only daughter and heiress of Robert 1812. Nugent, Viscount Clare (created Earl 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 119 the other a fair epistle, written in celestial characters, which, however, it was given me to understand. The present, I saw, came from no mortal hand, and seemed to be the boon of all the gods, or rather of all the goddesses ; for there was taste, fancy, delicacy, flattery, wit, and senti ment in it, and so artfully blended, that no celestial in breeches could possibly have mixed so bewitching a potion. Venus had chosen the pattern, Flora painted the roses after those at Paphos, Minerva had worked the tambour part, Clio wrote the ode, and Thalia took off the majestic stiffness of the original sketch by breathing her own ease all over it. These visions naturally presented themselves. I told you, Madam, I was but just awake, and at that hour, somehow or other, one's head is very apt to be full of Venus and such pretty figures. Vanity soon took their place, and, not to be unworthy of my visitants, I held up my head, and thought it became so favoured a personage as myself to assume a loftier port, and behave like my predecessors who had been honoured in the same manner. Was I more like ^Gneas when his mother brought him armour of heavenly temper, or hke Paris when three divinities exerted all their charms and all their artifices to ensnare his partiality ? To be sure I could have been simple enough to be content with the character of Horatius Flaccus, with which my patronesses had hailed me; but when I ordered Philip to reach me my lyre, that I might pour out a rapturous epode or secular hymn in gratitude, he said, ' Lord ! Sir, you know Horace's lyre is at Ampthill.' What follows is more melancholy. I rose ; the first object was to examine more attentively the inspired vest in the full sun against which it shone gorgeously ; but, alas ! as I crept to the window, in the glass I beheld — what do you think, Madam ?— such an emaciated, wan, wrinkled, poor skeleton, that — 0 ! adieu, visions, goddesses, odes, vests of roses, and 120 To John Craufurd [1775 immortal Strawberry ! — I thought I saw a thinner Don Quixote attired by the Duchess for sport. Shocked, sunk from my altitudes, and shrinking into myself, I bade Philip Panca fold up the vest, and vowed never to dress up my ghost-like Adonis, but to consecrate the dear work of dear fingers to the single word (I will believe in the charming ode) Friendship ; and may the memory of that word, the vest and the ode, exist when Strawberry Hill, its tinsel glories and its master, are remembered nowhere else ! 1589. To John Craufurd. Arlington Street, Jan. 2, 1775. I was not surprised, but rather the more grateful because I was not surprised, at your kind letter. I am totally re covered, excepting my right hand : I walk without a stick ; nay, am told look as well as ever I did, which never could be a compliment to me in any part of my life. However, as I advance with dignity I shall descend to the first floor but to-morrow, finding it in vain to wait till I am sent for ; a mishap that has befallen greater folk than me. Still I am content with being confined but five weeks, instead of five months ; and though it will make the faculty more violent than ever against the bootikins, me at least they shall not persuade out of them ; and though they will be ready to poison me for speaking the truth, it shall not be by any of their own potions. I hope you have been diverted with your tour, and I am sure you are always the better for being diverted. I have received a charming present, and more charming verses from Ampthill. You shall see both at your return, if you have not already seen them. Letter 1589. — Collated with original in possession of Mr. John W. Ford. 1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 121 Tuesday, 3rd. Cybele va deseendre1; that is, an old woman, or an old man, which is the same thing, is come downstairs and writes to you with her own hand, which goddesses never do but when they assume a mortal shape, and then billets- doux and all the rest follow of course. Indeed, there is more of the goddess than the woman in my partiality for you. I doubt your petite sante would tempt no ancient dame to choose you for her Atys, though a divinity who would know the goodness of your heart would prefer you to Hercules. All this rigmarole only to tell you I am much better, and Very sincerely yours, H. Walpole. 1590. To the Marquise du Deffand. De Londres, ce 4 Janvier, 1775. Votee derniere lettre etoit tout ce que je pouvois desirer, et je vous en remercie : mais celle de my Lady Ailesbury, que je recus avec, ne me plut nullement. Elle dit que vous vous etes tellement epuisee a votre fete, que vous en avez pense mourir. J'espere qu'on n'exilera plus vos parens, si le retour doit vous tant couter *. Vous pouvez vous tranquil liser entierement sur mon etat; il ne me reste que de l'enfleure a la main droite, et cependant je m'en sers actuelle ment, bien qu'enveloppee de la bottine : M. Wiart ne recon- noitra pas mon ecriture; a force d'etre difficile, elle est meilleure. Je marche sans bequille et sans aide, mais il est vrai que je suis encore tres foible, et bien plus Eevenant que 1 These words occur in Quinault's original in Walpole's handwriting opera Atys ; they were probably in possession of Mr. W. R. Parker- quoted by Walpole from the letter Jervis. of Madame de S6vign£ to Madame de 1 The Due and Duchesse de Choiseul Grignan of Aug. 6, 1677. had returned to Paris for the first Letter 1590. — Not in C. ; now first time since theDuke's fall from power, printed (verbatim et literatim from 122 To the Marquise du Deffand [1775 vos parlementaires. Mais je me repose assez : La Ville est deserte a l'heure qu'il est ; et de ceux qui y sont, Je n'en recois que tres peu. C'etoit la mode il y a deux ans de me visiter. Toutes les belles, toutes les grandes Dames vinrent ici a I'envi : actuellement j'affiche la langueur ; et me suis excuse sinon a mes Amis intimes. Voici Mercredy au soir, et ce Diable d'homme ne m'a pas encore apporte les emeraudes. J'ai peur de manquer le Coche de Douvres. Couty 2 m'a rendu ce matin deux grilles et quatre livres de The, qui iront dans la meme Caisse. Mes parens vous auront dit le grand parti qui s'est offert pour leur Niece my Lady Francoise 3. C'est une tres aimable Fille et tres jolie. Toutes ces Cousines le sont. Je n'ai pas ete fache de l'absence de mes parens. J'aime a etre tout seul dans les souffrances. Je scais exactement comment il faut me traiter. II ne faut que le silence et un regime extremement froid. Dans ce pais cy tout le Monde s'y oppose et me preche. Je n'aime que des Domestiques obeissans, et certainement je n'ai pas envie de me tuer. Vous voyez que je m'y connois, et me suis gueri bien promptement. Encore suis-je tres content du sejour qu'ils ont fait a Paris, des honneurs, des politesses, des bontes, qu'ils y ont recus. Je suis charcne qu'ils ont fait con noissance avec vous, et qu'ils ont le bonheur de vous plaire. A present je commence a desirer leur retour, et je vous prie de leur donner conge. Ce jeudy 5. Comme le Carosse de Douvres part demain, et ne passe qu'une fois par semaine, j'avois peur que les Emeraudes n'y seroient pas a temps ; mais les voici ; le Marchand me les 2 The brother of one of Madame du Hertford; m. (May 22, 1775) Henry Deffand's servants, who was in the Fiennes Pelham-Clinton, eldest son service of the Earl of Carlisle. of second Duke of Newcastle. Lord 3 Lady Frances Seymour Conway, Lincoln died in 1778, in his father's fourth daughter of first Earl of lifetime. 1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 123 a apporte ce matin. J'ai peur que vous n'en serez pas exactement contente: Le couvercle de la Jatte est tres lourd et mal fait : mais la Jatte fait tres bien sans dessus, et tout le reste est tres bien. Si j'avois refuse de prendre le couvercle, il auroit fallu attendre encore six mois ou douze ; car on fonde tres rarement du verre a cet usage, etant passe de mode. II faut que M. de Trudaine fasse venir la Caisse, qu'on laissera a la Douane de Calais a son adresse. Outre les Verres, vous y trouverez deux grilles et quatre hvres de The ; le tout empaquete par M. Couty, que j'ai fait venir expres chez moi. Le Selwyn a passe toute la soiree d'hier chez moi, et meme soupe, c'est a dire a mange des biscuits et moi des pommes cuites. Votre petit Ami 4 court la compagne : Aujourd'hui chez my Lady Spencer, demain chez les Ossory. Moi je ne compte de sortir au plutot avant la Semaine qui vient. Ce Vendredy 5 5. La main droite va mieux ; j'ai ote la bottine, et j'ecris gante. Vous pouvez compter a M. le Due d'Orleans cette nouvelle preuve de l'excellence des bottines. Dans mon fait c'est de la demonstration ; cinque semaines au lieu de cinque mois et demy. Vous m'avez parle dernierement d'un projet que vous aviez de diner au lieu de souper : je ne suis pas de cet avis la: Vous vous etes accoutoumee depuis si longtems a votre methode ordinaire, que je ne s^aurais croire q'un changement vous conviendroit mieux. Peutetre si vous preniez un petit bouillon a la place de votre The, cela vous soutiendroit mieux, et vous empecheroit de trop manger le soir ; mais je vous conseillerois pas de rien brusquer. Vous etes tres delicate, et il ne faut pas risquer un change ment considerable tout d'un coup. * John Craufurd, who was a correspondent of Madame du Deffand, 6 So in MS. ; read 6. 124 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 1591. To the Eev. William Cole. Arlington Street, Jan. 9, 1775. I every day intended to thank you for the copy of Nel Gwyn's letter, till it was too late ; the gout came, and made me moult my goose-quill. The letter is very curious, and I am as well content as with the original. It is lucky you do not care for news more recent than the Eeformation. I should have none to tell you ; nay, nor earlier neither. Mr. Strut's * second volume I suppose you have seen. He showed me two or three much better drawings from pictures in the possession of Mr. Ivesa. One of them made me very happy : it is a genuine portrait of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and is the individual same face as that I guessed to be his in my Marriage of Henry VI. They are infinitely more like each other than any two modern portraits of one person by different painters. I have been laughed at for thinking the skull of Duke Humphrey at St. Alban's proved my guess; and yet it certainly does, and is the more hke, as the two portraits represent him very bald, with only a ringlet of hair, as monks have. Mr. Strut is going to engrave his drawings. Yours faithfully, H. W. 1592. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Jan. 9, 1775. I weite without having anything to say, but what I know you will like better than news. I am quite recovered of the gout, except in the hand I write with, and which you see Letter 1591. — 1 Joseph Strutt People of England. (1749-1802), antiquary and artist. 2 John Ives (1751-1776), Suffolk The work mentioned is his Manners, Herald Extraordinary. Customs, Arms, Habits, &c of the 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 125 cannot be very bad. The bootikins have proved themselves to demonstration. I had the gout in both hands, both feet, both elbows, and one wrist, and yet could walk without a stick in less than a month, and have been abroad twice in less than five weeks. It came in each part as rapidly as it could, and went away so too ; and though I had some acute pain, much less in quantity than in any fit these ten years. Now, if less pain, and five weeks instead of five months and a half, as the last fit was, be not demonstra tion, there is none in Euclid. The bootikins do not cure the gout, but if they defer it, lessen it, shorten it, who would not wear them? Why, fine people, younger people, who will not condescend to lie like a mummy ; nay, nor anybody else, for the physicians and apothecaries, who began by recommending them, now, finding they are a specific, cry them down — and will be believed, precisely because they lie ; they say they weaken ; it is false ; I can at this moment stamp on the marble hearth with both feet with no more inconvenience than I did at five-and-twenty, which I never saw one other person that could do, who had the gout a twelvemonth before. I do this ten times a day, to convince people ; yet, what is ocular proof against the assertion of a grave face and a tied wig? If weakness was the consequence, who would be weakened so soon as I, who have bones no bigger than a lark's ? I want to send you a cargo of bootikins ; tell me the shortest way of conveying them. Your brother is one of the bigoted infidels ; can one wonder that the three professions make so many dupes, when pain cannot open the understanding? Sure the devil's three names of Satan, Beelzebub, and Lucifer, were given to him in his three capacities of priest, physician, and lawyer ! It is certainly true that there are apothecaries in London who have given noxious drugs under the name of James's powders, to decry the latter. I did not 126 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [ms think there could be a trade so bad as a, profession, till I heard that the fishmongers in town here fling away great quantities of fish that it may never be cheap. What a wicked monster is a great metropolis ! I rejoice that you have resolved to avow your nepotism : it may be a bar to your obtaining the Papacy, but sounds well in this Protestant country, and I am sure will turn out to your mind's satisfaction, though it may be a little inter ruption to your quiet. This is a short letter, but I call it an intercalated one. There will probably be enough, and too much to send you soon — but till the Parliament meets, all is suspense ! I hope decision will not follow in haste ! The moment is very big ; and if anybody is wise enough to see a quick solution of all the difficulties, they are much more intuitive than my comprehension. Lord Lincoln * marries my cousin, Lady Frances Conway 2 ; she is a sweet young woman in person, temper, and under standing, and deserves such vast fortune. Adieu ! 1593. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Jan. 12, 1775. You wanted to see my handwriting again, Madam, and now you will be tired of it ; but I have this instant received Miss Vernon's pretty fable and verses, and can I help thanking her and you as quick as possible ? There is a natural sim plicity in her fable, that pleases me infinitely more, than if she had gathered a nosegay of poetic words, and only dis posed them in a new garland, as young shepherdesses that read romances generally do, and without genuine invention. Letter 1592. — l Eldest son of mour Conway, Earl of Hertford, Henry Clinton, Duke of Newcastle. nephew of Catherine Shorter, Lady Walpole. Walpole, first wife of Sir Robert. 2 Fourth daughter of Francis Sey- Walpole. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 127 As she shows parts and observation, the embroidery will come of itself afterwards. To the praises she bestows on me, I am very sensible, because I am sure they flow from a kind and amiable heart, — rather, from a complimentary one ; but pray, Madam, tell her that I have neither acquired fame nor can bestow it, and that my name is Horace, only because I had godfathers and godmothers, and not because I have the least resemblance to a very great poet so called, any more than I should have to the apostle, if I had been christened Matthew. When I am likened to my heathen predecessor, it only reminds me of my infinite inferiority, and would not be allowed anywhere but at the puppet-show- Parnassus at Bath-Easton. I have just got Mrs. Miller's bouquet of artificial flowers1, and have only had time to dip upon it, and see how very ridiculous compliments un deserved may make one ! You will there see how immor tality is plentifully promised to riddles and bouts-rimes, and a jar dressed up with ribbons. I once did wish for fame, I own — now I dread it ; for it is like diamonds, of little value, unless of the first water, — and who would be fine in Bristol stones ? Pray, Madam, send me all the productions of Ampthill. Everything is agreeable of one's own society, and when it means to go no farther. I think this is all that is left me that I care for, or have any eagerness about, — and I am sure that I read with any pleasure. What should I read else? I know all that can be told me of the periods I delight in. I can scarce read Grammont and Madame de SevignS, because I know them by heart. Can I pore over American disputes, which I never did nor ever shall under stand ? Do I care for hearing how many ways Mr. Burke can make a mosaic pavement or an inlaid cabinet? Can Letter 1593. — ' Poetical Amuse- from the compositions read at Bath- ments at a Villa near Bath, a selection easton. 128 To the Earl of Hardwicke [1775 I be diverted with Mr. Cumberland's comedies, or Garrick's nonsensical epilogues ? No ! truly. I am almost as sick of our literature, as of our pohtics and politicians; and, therefore, if you have any charity, my Lady, send me all the Ampthilliana, or rather bring them to Grosvenor Place, which I promise to be reconciled to, and where we will not make a Helicon of tin and a Parnassus of pasteboard. Let us leave the whole Castalian state to the Bufos and Bufesses, and divert ourselves without trusting posterity with our secrets. 1594. To the Earl of Hardwicke. My Lobd Arlington Street, Jan. 12th, 1775. Though I was so unfortunate as to be able to send your Lordship an immediate answer to the honour you offered me1, yet having company with me I could not do it in a manner satisfactory to myself, as I had not time to state to your Lordship the particular reasons I have for dechning what would do so much credit to my press and me, as printing anything furnished by your Lordship. I will not trouble you, my Lord, with recapitulating many private reasons that have induced me to put a stop to my press, which has not worked in a manner for these two years. I even two months ago gave my printer warning to provide for himself, having no farther use for him : and though it is true that I have retained him since, by the occasion I had for him as a secretary to write my letters during the incapacity of my hand in the gout, yet it is with no present thoughts of employing him again in his pro- Letter 1594. — Not in C. ; now first to reprint at the Strawberry Hill printed from original in possession Press the State Papers of Sir Dudley of Mr. George Pritchard. Carleton, first published by that 1 Lord Hardwicke asked Walpole Lord in 1757. 1775] To the Earl of Hardwicke 129 fession. But indeed the insurmountable difficulty I have in gratifying myself with the flattering employment of printing for your Lordship is this (and one material cause of my suspending my press) — I have been earnestly requested by a near relation to print a work, which was not agreeable to me to print, though offensive to nobody ; and the chief argument I urged was the bulk of it. Now your Lordship's candour I am sure will do me the justice to allow that I deprive myself of one of my chief pleasures, that of con tributing to the publication of historic pieces, when I deny myself the satisfaction of serving you in that light. I could not print them without exposing myself to a rupture with one of my own family. I trust your Lordship will not mention this, as I should not have uttered it, but to prove my inabiUty of obeying you — for I could not content myself with pleading to you, my Lord, what has been another cause of my interrupting my press, the laziness and indifference to even literary amusements, which age and the gout have brought upon me. You would have tempted me, my Lord, to renew them, if such strong motives did not restrain me. I beg to know what the Catalogue is your Lordship means. I conclude the Anecdotes of Painting ; but I would not send them till I was sure. The print of Monsieur de Choiseul is a general, but very imperfect likeness; with nothing of the countenance, and as little of his vivacity ; the person is very much his. The present King of France is exceedingly like, my Lord ; and hke the Duke of Grafton too, as you have heard. I can scarce discover the least distant resemblance to the Queen, who is as strangely like the present Duchess of Grafton, though infinitely better. I cannot at present, my Lord, recollect where there is any miniature or wax cast of my father, that is to be parted WALPOLE. IX 130 To the Marquise du Deffand [1775 with ; if I can hear of any such thing your Lordship shall know. I have the honour to be With great respect, My Lord, Your Lordship's Most obedient Humble servant, Hoe. Walpole. 1595. To the Marquise du Deffand. De Londres, ce 13 Janvier, 1775. En toute verite je vous assure que je n'ai pas pense a vous faire des menaces. Je vous ai dit en badinant que je ne voulois vous ecrire de huit jours — et voila ou me fait tomber le malheur de ne pas ecrire dans ma propre langue. Si je ne parle pas toujours d'un serieux phlegmatique, votre m6- fiance naturelle vous fait soupconner que je suis de mauvaise humeur — je ne scais pas de remede, et il faut se soumettre a ces contretems. Au moins vous voyez que je ne me fache pas aujourd'hui. Non, assurement, mon cousin ne gardera pas votre Madame de Prie \ Vous me l'aviez offert, et je n'ai pas voulu vous l'oter — mais puisque vous la donnez, je pretends qu'elle est a Moi comme plus ancien en date. Ne vous donnez plus de peine sur Madame d'Olonne ; vous en avez deja trop pris. Je vous prie seulement de me la faire acheter a la vente, si Je priz ne passe pas cent Louis ou environ, ce qui seroit bien payer sa fantaisie ; mais j'ai peur que je ne l'aurai pas. II y a un Monsr d'Henri ou bien d'Heneri, demeurant dans la meme rue avec le Chevalier Lambert, et tout pres de Letter 1595. — Not in C. ; now first in possession of Mr. W. R. Parker- printed (verbatim et literatim) from Jervis. original in Walpole's handwriting ' A miniature. t*6Cj nw £t£^^£!^*wfr ^+*B/L»*\ f^/tyj4n*4K LETTER OF HORACE WALPOLE TO MADAME DU DEFFAND fp*V e*~fi*J!r&v*?lA&is ¦ S*~/uej t*u kJvx/& ek twj awm- &*****?& &t>U^&. A/i^ff-" t>tMj.fM*- **¦ ' £bf/-/!**>sfb*&££4&. %*fa f^m^LUSJ>M^& fad*., ^fm.^/e^^resu^r, (Psii-eJfiist- €u£irttleril»&JAJ*k*^pP*& ^ffkC^fi^fuu^A^^^^i^ &-ff*** fe>»Jr*-'/rAAr'£j p**t *&~ it. o&irlttf puji^ifin/mu. c/L4fiLneMAr^j*M*y'&**e^- W^-^*^ ¦ **ybtvft&&tlt, Se^*4^t^r*CijM^muZh^^f. 6?^f'/foUWi$e4*^' 1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 131 l'hotel de Eichelieu, et qui achete a tort et a travers tous les ouvrages soi disants de Petitot, qui me I'emportera, et j en serai fache. II y avait encore un monsieur que j'ai vu chez vous, et dont j'ai oublie le nom, mais il a de grands sourcils noirs ; il achete aussi des Petitots, et me proposa un jour de venir voir ses tableaux ; mais c'est trop vous im- portuner, et je ne vous en parlerai plus. Je suis encore fache. de vous avoir demands la vie de Ninon, puisqu'elle est ancienne: c'est sans doute celle dont j'ai tire ma feuille dans le Monde 2, et que je sais par coeur. t Je viens enfin de recevoir de la part de l'Executeur Testa- mentaire de M. Taaffe Trois cent ving sept livres Sterling douze Shellings et six Sous, sur le compte de Madame la Marechale de Mirepoix, le dernier paiement qu'elle touchera. L'Entremetteur s'est paye cinque guinees, et c'est tres raisonable — done il n'en reste pour Madame que trois cent ving deux livres, sept Shelings, et six sous. Je crois que la meilleure maniere de faire toucher cette somme a Mad. la Marechale, ce sera si mon cousin veut bien avoir la Com plaisance de la lui paier, et que son Banquier s'adresse a moi pour le remboursement — mais alors il faudra que Madame de Mirepoix paie a mon cousin ce qu'il perdra par les frais de I'echange, car je ne veux pas qu'il paie la Dame a son propre depens. Je vous prie d'arranger cela avec lui avant que d'en parler a la Marechale. Je trouve 1'epigramme de Voltaire fort plaisant. On ne m'a pas envoye les trois Exclamations 5 ; et M. Clarges, que je scais arrive^ ne m'a pas rendu la Ninon, mais je la lui demanderai, si je n'entends pas parler. On m'a dit hier que notre petit ami a la Goute chez my Lady Spencer, et le pie sur un tabouret. Mad. Greville est hardie si elle repondra de ce qu'il fera au printems. 2 The World, No. xxviii. See Works ' The title of an epigram on the of Lord Orford, vol, i pp. 169-73. journalist Suard. K 2 132 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. [1775 Je vous prie d'assurer Mad. de Jonsac combien je suis sensible a son Souvenir ; c'est Une des personnes en France pour qui j'ai le plus d'estime, bien que je n'y aie pas fait quatre vingt dix Connoissances, comme M. Conway 4. J'oubliois de vous dire que je suis tres content des Vers du Chevalier dans la Tasse. Tout ce qu'il fait est joli. Ma Goute s'en va on ne peut pas plus lentement. Je marche tres mal, je monte mal un esealier et je descends avec plus de difficulte encore. Je ne quitte le gant de la main droite que pour ecrire, et j'ai fait demander permission a la Princesse Amelie de le garder quand j'aurai l'honneur de jouer avec EUe Lundy. Je remets ma parfaite guerison au mois prochain, quand je compte d'aller passer huit jours a une Campagne de my Lord Hertford a deux pas de la mer, et a vingt lieues de Londres. L'air de la mer me fait autant de bien que les bottines, et mille fois plus rapidement. Je suis tres sterile aujourd'hui. La campagne politique s'ouvrira la Semaine qui vient, et alors la ville se remplira. J'ai des nouvelles assez amusantes pour mes parens, mais comme elles ne sont point politiques et se conserveront, et que je n'ai pas le terns de leur ecrire aujourd hui, je les garderai jusqu'a Mardy. C'est l'histoire d'une Societe poetique dont je me suis fort amuse". Bon soir. 1596. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway and the Countess of Ailesbury. Arlington Street, Jan. 15, 1775. You have made me very happy by saying your journey to Naples is laid aside. Perhaps it made too great an im pression on me ; but you must reflect, that all my life 4 ' Savez-vous combien il commit sauvage.' (Madame du Deffand to dija de personnes dans Paris? Horace Walpole, Jan. 3, 1775.) Quatre-vingt-dix. 11 n'est nullement ° See the following letter. 1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. 133 I have satisfied myself with your being perfect, instead of trying to be so myself. I don?t ask you to return, though I wish it : in truth, there is nothing to invite you. I don't want you to come and breathe fire and sword against the Bostonians, hke that second Duke of Alva, the inflexible Lord George Germain ; or to anathematize the court and all its works, like the incorruptible Burke, who scorns lucre, except when he can buy a hundred thousand acres from naked Caribs for a song. I don't want you to do any thing like a party-man. I trust you think of every party as I do, with contempt, from Lord Chatham's mustard-bowl down to Lord Bockingham's hartshorn. All, perhaps, will be tried in their turns, and yet, if they had genius, might not be mighty enough to save us. From some ruin or other I think nobody can, and what signifies an option of mischiefs ? An account is come of the Bostonians having voted an army of sixteen thousand men, who are to be called minute- men, as they are to be ready at a minute's warning. Two directors or commissioners, I don't know what they are called, are appointed. There has been too a kind of mutiny in the Fifth Eegiment. A soldier was found drunk on his post. Gage, in this time of danger, thought rigour necessary, and sent the fellow to a court-martial. They ordered two hundred lashes. The General ordered them to improve their sentence. Next day it was published in the Boston Gasette. He called them before him, and required them on oath to abjure the communication : three officers refused. Poor Gage is to be scapegoat1, not for this, but for what was a reason against employing him, incapacity. I wonder at the precedent! Howe' is talked of for his successor.— Well, I have done with you ! — Now I shall go gossip with Lady Aylesbury. Letter 1596. — 1 Gage was not de- Howe ; he was sent out with re- prived of command on this occasion. inforcements for Gage in March * Major-General Hon. William 1775. 134 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. [1775 You must know, Madam, that near Bath is erected a new Parnassus, composed of three laurels, a myrtle- tree, a weeping-willow, and a view of the Avon, which has been new christened Helicon. Ten years ago there lived a Madam Eiggs, an old rough humourist who passed for a wit; her daughter, who passed for nothing, married to a Captain Miller, full of good-natured officiousness. These good folks were friends of Miss Eichs, who carried me to dine with them at Bath-Easton, now Pindus. They caught a little of what was then called taste, built and planted, and begot children, till the whole caravan were forced to go abroad to retrieve. Alas ! Mrs. Miller is returned a beauty, a genius, a Sappho, a tenth Muse, as romantic as Mademoi selle Scuderi, and as sophisticated as Mrs. Vesey. The Captain's fingers are loaded with cameos, his tongue runs over with virtu, and that both may contribute to the im provement of their own country, they have introduced bouts-rimes as a new discovery. They hold a Parnassus fair every Thursday, give out rhymes and themes, and all the flux of quality at Bath contend for the prizes. A Eoman vase dressed with pink ribbons and myrtles receives the poetry, which is drawn out every festival ; six judges of these Olympic games retire and select the brightest com positions, which the respective successful acknowledge, kneel to Mrs. Calliope Miller, kiss her fair hand, and are crowned by it with myrtle, with — I don't know what. You may think this is fiction, or exaggeration. Be dumb, unbelievers ! The collection is printed, published. — Yes, on my faith ! There are bouts-rime's on a buttered muffin, made by her Grace the Duchess of Northumberland ; receipts to make them by Corydon the venerable, alias George Pitt ; others very pretty, by Lord Palmerston * ; some by Lord Carlisle : 3 Daughter of Sir Robert Rich, « HenryTemple(1739-1802), second and sister to the second wife of Yiscount Palmerston. George, Lord Lyttelton. Walpole. 1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. 135 many by Mrs. Miller herself, that have no fault but wanting metre; and immortality promised to her with out end or measure. In short, since folly, which never ripens to madness but in this hot climate, ran distracted, there never was anything so entertaining or so dull — for you cannot read so long as I have been telling. Jan. 17. Before I could finish this, I received your dispatches by Sir Thomas Clarges, and a most entertaining letter in three tomes. It is being very dull, not to be able to furnish a quarter so much from your own country — but what can I do ? You are embarked in a new world, and I am living on the scraps of an old one of which I am tired. The best I can do is to reply to your letter, and not attempt to amuse you when I have nothing to say. I think the Parhament meets to-day, or in a day or two — but I hope you are coming. — Your brother says so, and Madame du Deffand says so ; and sure it is time to leave Paris, when you know ninety of the inhabitants'1. There seems much affectation in those that will not know you6 ; and affectation is always a little ness — it has been even rude ; but to be sure the rudeness one feels least is that which is addressed to one before there has been any acquaintance. Ninon7 came, because, on Madame du Deffand's mention ing it, I concluded it a new work, and am disappointed. I can say this by heart. The picture of Madame de Prie ", which you don't seem to value (and so Madame du Deffand says), I believe I shall dispute with you ; I think it charm ing, but when offered to me years ago, I would not take it — it was now given to you a little a mon intention. 6 See p. 132, note 4. 6 The Duke de Choiseul. Walpole. 7 The Life of Ninon de l'Enclos. Walpole. 8 It is now at Strawberry Hill. Walpole. 136 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. [1775 I am sorry that, amongst all the verses you have sent me, you should have forgotten what you commend the most, Les trois exclamations : I hope you will bring them with you. Voltaire's are intolerably stupid, and not above the level of officers in garrison. Some of M. de Pezay's9 are very pretty, though there is too much of them ; and in truth I had seen them before. Those on Madame de la Valhere pretty too, but one is a little tired of Venus and the Graces. I am most pleased with your own 10 — and if you have a mind to like them still better, make Madame du Deffand show you mine n, which are neither French, nor measure, nor metre. She is unwilling to tell me so ; which diverts me. Yours are really genteel and new. I envy you the Eussian anecdotes12 more than M. de Chamfort's fables, of which I know nothing; and as you say no more, I conclude I lose not much. TheYtories of Sir Charles " are so far not new to me, that I heard them of him from abroad after he was mad : but I beheve no mortal of his acquaintance ever heard them before ; nor did they at all correspond with his former life, with his treat ment of his wife, or his history with Mrs. Woffington, qui 9 Alexandre Frid&ric Jacques u These lines do not appear. Masson (1741-1777), Marquis de Walpole. Pezay. I2 A MS. account of the revolution io Miss Berry notes that Conway's which placed Catherine II on the lines were 'sent with a porcelain throne, by Claude Carloman de dejeuni to the Vicomtesse de Cambis Rulhiere (1735-1791), who had been at the beginning of the new year, attached to the French embassy in when it was the universal custom at St. Petersburg. Rulhiere occasionally Paris to interchange small presents read his anecdotes out loud in private known by the name of itrennes.' The houses. He claimed to give a full verses were as follow : — account of the whole transaction, ' L'etrenne qu'on vous offre ioi and spaxei no one. His work caused N'est rare nimignonne: great annoyance to the Empress, Mais les vetiUes ont du prix who '^"L111 vam to have lt SUP- Quand c'est le coeur qui donne. Fe,s™„ i,The anecdotes were printed in 1797, the year after the Empress's ' De plus encore pour satisfaire death. Au scrupule le plus severe, " Sir Charles Hanbury Williams. H faut penser qu'en acceptant Walpole. C'est vous qui faites le present.' 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 137 n' etait pas dupe. I say nothing on the other stories you tell me of billets dropped u, etpour cause. I think I have touched all your paragraphs, and have nothing new to send you in return. In truth, I go nowhere but into private rooms ; for I am not enough recovered to re-launch into the world, when I have so good an excuse for avoiding it. The bootikins have done wonders ; but even two or three such victories will cost too dear. I submit very patiently to my lot. I am old and broken, and it never was my system to impose upon myself when one can deceive nobody else. I have spirits enough for my use, that is, amongst my friends and contemporaries: I like young people and their happiness for everything but to live with ; but I cannot learn their language, nor tell them old stories, of which I must explain every step as I go. Politics, the proper resource of age, I detest — I am contented, but see few that are so— and I never will be led by any man's self- interest. A great scene is opening, of which I cannot expect to see the end ; I am pretty sure not a happy end — so that, in short, I am determined to think the rest of my life but a postscript : and as this has been too long an one, I will wish you good night, repeating what you know already, that the return of you three is the most agreeable prospect I expect to see realized. Adieu ! 1597. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Jan. 15, 1775. I am glad I opened the letter myself, Madam ; I would not have had Kirgate see it for the world, and therefore 14 This alludes to circumstances contents public. He was in con- Mr. Conway mentions as having sequence forbidden by the Queen to taken place at a ball at Versailles. appear again at the court balls. Walpole. — A young Vicomte d'Houde- (See Correspondance entre Marie Thi- tot picked up a letter written by rise et le Comte de Mercy-Argenteau, a lady to her lover, and made its vol. ii. pp. 287-8.) 138 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 attempt to write an answer in my lap with only one hand. If no man is a hero in the eyes of his valet de chambre, what must a miserable author be in those of his printer ! You think you have sent me some very pretty verses, Madam, and so you have — very pretty indeed ; for poetry can create, paint, or call from the grave, and the less solidity there is in the vision, the more enchanting are its hues: but if truth presents its glass, the rainbow disappears, and nothing remains but what I have found, Verses on a Death's head ! — and my immortal fame may walk perhaps to the publication of the next monthly magazine. In serious earnest, I do think it is such an impertinence in every little scribbler in a parish to accept new year's gifts of immortal fame from their friends, that, at the risk of ingratitude, I must protest against the practice. As an antiquary, Madam, I am better diverted. I can but imagine how the grave professors of our mystery will be embarrassed a thousand years hence (which is all the portion of futurity in my disposal) to discover who the im mortal man was that will live only in your Ladyship's lines. Nay, what if the reverse of your comphment should happen, and the author should only be discovered by his printer ! Such mortifications have happened to as great German and Batavian wits as I am, and therefore I beg, Madam, you will treat my co-labourer Kirgate with more respect, as, should fame happen to have a hbrary of rare editions, I may be admitted there only under his auspices. Upon the whole, to your Ladyship and him I commit the whole reversion of my future renown, where I am sure it will be in better hands than in my own ; and I do hereby appoint and declare my said loving Muse and faithful printer joint executrix and executor of this my last will and testa ment, written all with my own hand this fifteenth day of January, in the first and last year of my immortality, and 1775] To the Duke of Gloucester 139 in the no less immortal reign of G. Ill, by the want of grace late King of France and America, &c. 1598. To the Duke of Gloucester. SlE, Jan. 17, 1775. Your Eoyal Highness's commands are so much a law to me, that though deeply conscious of the inequality of my understanding to so arduous a question, and full of fears lest a word should drop from me that should lead your Eoyal Highness into any step prejudicial to yourself, or to the Princesses \ your daughters, I venture to lay my thoughts at your Eoyal Highness's feet, only entreating, if they appear to have any weight in them, that your Eoyal Highness would not adopt them till they have been approved by better judge ments than mine. Before I speak, Sir, on the question whether your Eoyal Highness should take any measure in Parliament for pro curing a provision for your family, permit me, Sir, to state an apprehension that has struck me from the conversation I had the honour of having with you the last time I saw you. Your Eoyal Highness expressed doubts whether there might not be some idea of calling the legitimacy of your children in question. Alas! Sir, if it is possible that any human mind should have such an idea, would not a motion in Parliament be the likeliest method of bringing that horrid intention into execution ? The Parliament is so infamous, that it could, I firmly believe, be brought to lend its assistance to anything. As your Eoyal Highness's hint of carrying any part of your cause thither has not alarmed, may one not suppose that not alarming, it pleases? What will either House not do ? What has either refused to do ? Consider, Letteb 1598. — * Princess Sophia gusta Maria. The latter was born Matilda and Princess Caroline Au- iu 1774 and died on March 14, 1775. 140 To the Duke of Gloucester [1775 Sir, how many would be glad to colour over their mean desertion or neglect of you by calling into question the vahdity of your marriage, and consequently of the birth of your children. Shame is apt to fly to crimes for a veil. I have no difficulty in speaking on this question: your Eoyal Highness must authenticate the legitimacy of your children, before you think of a provision fbr them. I rest it there, Sir, not to trouble you with unnecessary words. In regard to the question your Eoyal Highness was pleased to put to me, on some motion for a provision, I will consider it in two lights ; ih the first, whether it would be proper for any Lords to take it up. This, Sir, I am sorry to say, lies in a small compass, and extends to a very few Lords in the opposition ; your Eoyal Highness knows already my opinion, that a few opposing Lords would only do your cause signal mischief, and would give the pretended sanction, that I fear is wished for, to doing nothing for you ; and, therefore, if I am not wrong, not to be attempted. The Duke of E.2, with whom I have talked, fears nothing, Sir, but hurting your cause. He is so personally obnoxious, that he thinks a motion from your Eoyal Highness and himself would only be considered, certainly represented, as factious ; his Grace's tenderness and delicacy would not suffer him to add, that none of his friends would support him, though he knows they would not. What could be expected, Sir, from a measure so generally abandoned? When could it be re vived with success, unless, not only times, but men should be totally altered ? I can then, Sir, have but one idea left, the same I suggested on Monday, if your Eoyal Highness should still think the present season a proper one, though it is probable that nothing will be stirred this year in relation to an increase of the revenue of the crown. I must throw myself on your 2 The Duke of Richmond. 1775] To the Duke of Gloucester 141 Eoyal Highness's great goodness and generosity before I presume to utter what I have further to say. You have indeed, Sir, commanded me, given me leave to speak what I think, and I dare not at such a crisis but speak what I think. Bo not offended, Sir ; my heart burns to serve you, but I will not waste your time on my idle apologies. My sincerity must be proved by my actions. I have said, Sir, how infamous I think Parliaments. I have not so bad an opinion of all mankind in general. Humanity can operate when interest is silent. It seems essential, in my opinion, to any future service^ that your Eoyal Highness may reap from a motion in Parliament, that the cry of mankind should be raised loud in your favour. That can only be excited by stating your sufferings and by being able tp prove that you have done everything in your power to reconcile his Majesty, and to- deprecate his anger. The plan I should humbly offer to your Eoyal High ness for your conduct will best explain my meaning, laying it before you, Sir, with the utmost deference and diffidence ; far from presuming to dictate, but obeying from perfect submission. I should begin, Sir, by writing an ostensible letter to the King, asking pardon for a natural youthful error, regretting his displeasure, entreating a return of his fraternal affections, stating my own ill-health, and how much that must be augmented by his resentment, and at least imploring he would give that relief to a sick body and wounded mind of promising he would make a proper provision for persons so dear to me as my wife and children. As heightening the picture a httle would not add to your Eoyal Highness's disorder, I would beg the comfort of taking leave of him in so critical a situation of my health. If this should have no effect, Sir, I would just before leaving England, in my place in the House of Lords, acquaint their Lordships, that 142 To the Duke of Gloucester [1775 I was grieved his Majesty was so much offended at a youthful error, which, as it was neither repugnant to religion nor law at that time, I had flattered myself had not been irremissible ; that I had done but what the heir of the crown, James II, when Duke of York, had done, and been forgiven, and what had very frequently been done by other princes of the royal blood, and by kings of England themselves; that I had never refused any match that had been proposed, and had only chosen for myself when no wife had been sought for me ; that I had preferred legal matrimony to the dissolute ness of youth ; that I had selected a woman of blameless virtue, and that I had done what their Lordships could not disapprove, — I had chosen a lady from their own class, into which Princes of the blood used to marry. I would then acquaint them with the steps I had in vain taken for recon ciliation. I would entreat them to be mediators with the King for remission of my fault in marrying without his approbation: I would acquaint them with the precarious state of my health, which obliged me to leave the kingdom and my family unprovided for, and I would beg them, as Christian Peers and his Majesty's Great Council, to endeavour to repair the breaches in the royal family ; and if anything should happen to me, to intercede with his Majesty's piety and forgiveness to make a suitable provision for two innocent young Princesses of his own blood, who had never offended him; and I would add, that to avoid any suspicion of intending to disturb his Majesty's mind, I dechned making any present Parliamentary application for my children, but would leave to the wisdom of their Lordships to take the most proper time of being intercessors for me and my family with my royal brother. This address, Sir, to the Lords I would deliver in writing, and would desire it might be entered on the Journals ; I would then retire and leave them. 1775] To the Duke of Gloucester 143 But now, Sir, after taking such a latitude of liberty, whom shall I entreat to be intercessor for me with your Eoyal Highness ? Your own excellent heart, Sir. No, you cannot be offended at zeal, even if it has passed its due bounds. On my soul, Sir, I think that what I have said is the best method I can desire for obtaining your Eoyal Highness's object. No high-flown loyalty nor grovelling self-interest has dictated my words. If Parliament is against you, the majority of mankind must be gained over by acting as they would advise. If I advise you, Sir, to stoop beyond what your Eoyal Highness would suggest, it is for the sake of your children, who will plead when I fail. If you are in the right in the world's eye, whatever it costs your feeling, it will be of use to them. The circumstances may change ; your health, I trust in God, will be re-established, and the more sacrifices you have made, the higher you will stand in the esteem of mankind. I still flatter myself you will enjoy all the happiness and dignity due to your virtues and birth. I am not hkely to see that moment, nor should I profit by it if I did, — but I have done my duty as your true servant, and if I was now at my last hour, I could not give you any other advice than what I now presume to lay at your feet. P.S. If your Eoyal Highness should deem this advice timid, I beg, Sir, it may be tried by this test, whether your Eoyal Highness thinks that any one of your enemies would be glad I had given this advice : undoubtedly, Sir, the more you take care to be in the right yourself, the more you put those who hurt you with the King in the wrong. 144 To the Marquise du Deffand 1775 1599. To the Marquise du Deffand. De Londres, ce 19 Janvier, 1775. Je puis vous assurer avec la plus grande verite que non seulement mes parens sont infiniment contents de vous, mais qu'ils vous admirent et qu'ils vous aiment autant que vous le me/itez. C'est ce qu'ils repetent trop souvent pour que j'en doute. De leur cote quelle raison d'etre contents ! Jamais on n'a tant fait pour des Etrangers ! II me paroit que M. Conway seroit charme de s'etablir a Paris. Oui, je leur ferai force questions ; mais ils ont bien passe le cercle de mes Connoissances. Votre menagement poli pour mes couplets m'a fort divertu Je m'attendois a vous entendre crier qu'ils etoient les plus plats et les plus ridicules du monde. Vous n'avez jamais eu a vous reprocher trop de complaisance pour mes ouvrages — pourquoi epa'gner mes vers Francais? Pensez vous que je les ai cru bons ? Je sca,vais bien qu'ils etoient detestables. C'est mon cousin qui en fait de jolis — je trouve tres jolis ceux qu'il a fait pour Madame de Cambis. J'ai trouve ceux de votre fete fort bien aussi, cependant pas admirables. Mais il n'y a rien ou nous differons davantage qu'en fait de vers. J'ai tort sans doute, car assurement vous devez juger votre langue mieux que moi. Permettez vous que faute d'autre Matiere, je remplisse le reste de ma lettre avec des nouvelles Politiques pour mon Cousin ? Voila done que les affaires en Amerique vont au plus mal. On y envoye encore trois autres Eegiments. On va demander au parlement, qui s'est assemble aujourd'hui, six mille Matelots dont on n'a pas voulu il y a un mois. Cela ne paroit pas fort consequent — mais voici ce qui est bien plus etrange, et qui n'a pas l'air guerrier. On annonca Letter 1599. — Not in C. ; now first in possession of Mr. W. R. Parker- printed (verbatim et literatim) from Jervis, original in Walpole's hand-writing 1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 145 hier par autorite, c'est a dire par la sienne, que my Lord Chatham doit se presenter a la Chambre des Pairs pour faire une proposition. On a ete tres curieux de scavoir ce que ce devoit etre que cette Proposition, et on assure que la voici. Autorise par le Docteur Franklin (mon cousin vous dira qui c'est) le seigneur Chatham doit offrir au Eoi de la part des Colonies trois cent cinquante mille hvres Sterling par an, moyennant I'abohtion des Taxes et des Edits qui gravent l'Amerique. On pretend qu'on s'en mocquera — cependant on rit a contre-cceur. My Lord North a presente ce matin a la Chambre un Cahier enorme de papiers Americains, demandant qu'on les examine aujourdhui en huit. Vous voila aussi savante que pas un Politique dans nos Caffes. Hier la Cour etait en gala jour de la Eeine. Les habits etoient d'une magnificence extraordinaire, et les plumes des Dames un peu Emule des Votres. A trois heures apres midy arriva un brouillard si epais que personne ne scait trouver son carosse, et grand fut le bruit, l'embarras qui survint, avec beaucoup de dommage fait aux Equipages. Le Valet du Ministre de Prusse renversa a coups de poing un Grenadier a la Porte du Palais ; le ministre se plaint au Colonel de ce qu'on s'etait assure de la personne du Laquais. ' Monsieur, dit le colonel, que croyez vous qu'on eut fait a un Anglois qui eut frappe un grenadier a la porte du Palais de Berlin ? ' Nous sommes plus polis ; on a relache le Domestique. Voila un Echantillon d'une lettre Angloise. Je ne crois pas que vous demanderez une Suite. Le 20. Tout est change aujourd'hui : on dit que my Lord Chatham va demander qu'on augmente l'Armee par terre et par mer. Je ne saurai la Verite qu'apres la Poste partie, ce qui est plus sur, c'est ce que le Ministere s'est decide pour la Guerre, et qu'on menace les Colonies d'une punition tres rude. WALPOLE. IX L 146 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [ms Vos emeraudes coutent cinq Louis et demy. II me semble que mes lettres sont comme les Cours, remplis de grandes et de petites choses. 1600. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Jan. 21, 1775. No ; I will never read nonsense again with a settled resolution of being diverted ! The Miscellany from Bath- Easton is ten degrees duller than a magazine, and, which is wondrous, the noble authors it adds to my Catalogue are the best of this foolish Parnassus. There is one very pretty copy by Lord Palmerston ; and the Duchess of Northumber land has got very jollily through her task. I have scarce been better diverted by Dr. Johnson's Tour to the Western Isles. What a heap of words to express very Uttle! and though it is the least cumbrous of any style he ever used, how far from easy and natural ! He hopes nobody but is glad that a boatful of sacrilege, a diverting sin ! was ship wrecked. He believes in second sight, and laughs at poor Pennant for credulity ! The King sent for the book in MS., and then wondering, said, ' I protest, Johnson seems to be a Papist and a Jacobite ! ' — so he did not know why he had been made to give him a pension ! I must cross the sea, Madam, if I tell you anything better, and so I will. One of the ladies to the Queen of France announced to her that the Comtesse d' Artois was breeding. The Queen was a httle piqued and envious ; and to conceal it said, ' I wonder what the child will be called ? ' The lady answered, ' I hope, Madam, le Pricurseur? This story is only the precursor of one ten thousand times better, which I reserved. The Comte d'Artois, forgetting that his brother is King, treats him with all the familiarity of their nursery. It was thought necessary to correct this ; 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 147 and M. de Maurepas was commissioned to give the hint. Being urged, he said the King would grow offended. ' Well,' said the Prince, ' and if he is, que peut-il me faire ? ' ' Vous pardonner, Monseigneur? replied the minister. If you don't admire this more than any reply in your Diogenes Laertius and ancient authors, I will never tell your Ladyship another modern story. Well ! I am come back to England, and here I find no bad saying of an English Queen. The crowd at the Birthday was excessive, and had squeezed, and shoved, and pressed upon the Queen in the most hoyden manner. As she went out of the Drawing-room, somebody said in flattery, ' The crowd was very great.' — 'Yes,' said the Queen, ' and wherever one went, the Queen was in everybody's way.' I have written this since I came home to-night, Thursday, on my way towards Saturday's post, that I might not forget the bans mots I had collected for my gazette. To-morrow, I expect, will produce longer speeches. I know what I know. To-morrow is to happen a great event ' — I will not tell you what, till I know myself what it does produce. If it was not too late for the post, I would send away my letter this instant, that I might keep your Ladyship and Lordship in expectation for a whole night. Now I think of it, I can send it away to-morrow, and keep all Ampthill in equal suspense. I beheve I shall — I don't know whether I shall or not — well, I will consider of it. Saturday evening ". Oh, the pretty easy affectionate verses! but I beg your pardon for not returning them last night : I had not time, for I had dined out, and did not receive them till the post Letteb 1600. — i Lord Chatham's a Hitherto printed as a separate motion to address the King for the letter. (See Notes and Queries, April recall of the troops from Boston. 14, 1900.) L 2 148 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 was gone. But the great event — well, it must stay, — I cannot drop Lord Ossory so. Madam, madam, if your heart did not cry its eyes out, it is rock and flint, and all the hard things ladies' hearts used to be made of. Mine, that has hardly any eyes or ears left, was charmed with the harmony and touched with the sensibility. I forgive the dairy next door to the hospital, and don't wonder that With such a companion to tend a few sheep, To rise up and play, and to Ue down and sleep3, you have no taste for anything but milking cows. The ten last lines have more feeling and sentiment than ever were written by lovers, and are a better sermon in behalf of marriage than all that has been preached from St. Paul to St. Whitfield. I have not kept a copy, because I never break my trust, but I do ask them seriously, only desiring the first Une, which has a foot too much, may be short ened, and they wiU be perfect, which they ought to be, when they are so near it. Alas! the great event was addled, or came to Uttle. I had been told that Lord Chatham was commissioned by Dr. Franklin to offer the Bang 35O,O00Z. a year from America if the offensive bills were repealed. The ministers thought he was to ask for an increase of force, so their intelligence was at last no better than mine ! But, indeed, who could guess what he would do? He did appear, and did move to address for a recall of the troops from Boston, a very Pindaric transition from the first step towards a pacification to the last ! In heroic poems it is a rule to begin in the middle, and great poets and great orators are very like in more instances than one. He was very hostile, and so was Lord Camden; but the generals being braver than the troops, some of the latter ran away, s From John Byrom's verses beginning, 'My time, 0 ye Muses, was happily spent.' 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 149 as Colonel Coventry and Cornet Grosvenor. The numbers were 68 to 18. The Duke of Cumberland, who would have joined his regiment, if it had been raised, to the vanquished, was among the slain ; but in truth the subject is a httle too serious for joking. The war on America is determined on. Four regiments more are ordered thither, and every hostile measure is to be pursued. The wise measures of last year have already begotten a civil war. What that will beget, The child that is unborn will rue ! If Lord Chatham said true yesterday, the ministers are already checkmated and have not a move to make. Pray, Madam, remember I tell you stories about the children in the wood and Lord Hardwicke, and Barry*, and Princess Amelie and twenty others which I have not time for now, for I have more business of one body's or other, than Lord North, and do rather more. I will only say now that I am becoptied" at last, enlisted in Mrs. Weesey's * academy, and am to go thither to-morrow se'nnight to hear a Mr. Tig-he repeat parts of Mr. Jeph- son's 7 tragedy, which I am persuaded is very good, and so good that I wish I could hear it all at once ; but one might as well sit down to read Bysshe's Art of Poetry, as hear scraps of a plot one does not know. But I must obey; good night, Arria and Paetus without a Nero ! * James Barry (1741-1806), the of Ireland. His tragedy Braganza painter. was produced with success at Drury 6 See letter to Lady Ossory of Lane in February 1775. He also Jan. 24, 1775. wrote a tragedy founded on Horace « Mrs. Vesey. Walpole's Castle of Otranto, and en- 7 Robert Jephson (1736-1808), titled The Count ofNarbonne. Master of the Horse to the Viceroy 150 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i775 1601. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Jan. 22, 1775. After the magnificent overture for peace from Lord Chatham, that I announced to Madame du Deffand, you will be most impatient for my letter. Ohime ! you will be sadly disappointed. Instead of drawing a circle with his wand round the House of Lords, and ordering them to pacify America, on the terms he prescribed before they ventured to quit the circumference of his commands, he brought a ridiculous, uncommunicated, unconsulted motion for addressing the King immediately to withdraw the troops from Boston, as an earnest of lenient measures. The opposi tion stared and shrugged ; the courtiers stared and laughed. His own two or three adherents left him, except Lord Camden and Lord Shelburne, and except Lord Temple, who is not his adherent, and was not there. Himself was not much animated, but very hostile ; particularly on Lord Mansfield, who had taken care not to be there. He talked of three millions of Whigs in America, and told the ministers they were check mated and had not a move left to make. Lord Camden was as strong. Lord Suffolk was thought to do better than ever, and Lord Lyttelton's declamation was commended as usual. At last, Lord Eockingham, very punily, and the Duke of Eichmond joined and supported the motion; but at eight at night it was rejected by 68 to 18, though the Duke of Cumberland voted for it. This interlude would be only entertaining, if the scene was not so totally gloomy. The Cabinet have determined on civil war, and regiments are going from Ireland and our West Indian islands. On Thursday the plan of the war is to be laid before both Houses. Lettee 1601.— Collated with original in possession of Earl Waldegrave. 1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 151 To-morrow the merchants carry their petition ; which, I suppose, wiU be cooUy received, since, if I hear true, the system is to cut off all traffic with America at present — as, you know, we can revive it when we please. There! there is food for meditation ! Your reflections, as you understand the subject better than I do, wiU go further than mine could. Will the French you converse with be civil and keep their countenances ? George Damer t'other day proclaimed your departure for the 25th ; but the Duchess of Eichmond received a whole cargo of letters from ye aU on Friday night, which talk of a fortnight or three weeks longer. Pray remember it is not decent to be dancing at Paris, when there is a civil war in your own country. You would be like the country squire, who passed by with his hounds as the battle of EdgehiU began. 24. I am very sorry to tell you the Duke of Gloucester is dying. About three weeks ago the physicians said it was absolutely necessary for him to go abroad immediately. He dallied, but was actually preparing. He now cannot go, and probably will not live many days, as he has had two shivering fits, and the physicians give the Duchess no hopes1. Her affliction and courage are not to be described ; they take their turns as she is in the room with him or not, His are still greater. His heart is broken, and yet his firmness and coolness amazing. I pity her beyond measure ; and it is not a time to blame her having accepted an honour which so few women could have resisted, and scarce one ever has resisted. The London and Bristol merchants carried their peti tions yesterday to the House of Commons. The opposition contended for their being heard by the committee of the 1 The Duke lived till 1805. 152 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775 whole House, who are to consider the American papers ; but the court sent them to a committee, after a debate till nine at night, with nothing very remarkable, on divisions of 197 to 81, and 1[92] 2 to 65. Lord Stanley spoke for the first time; his voice and manner pleased, but his matter was not so successful. DowdesweU3 is dead, and Tom Hervey*. The latter sent for his wife and acknowledged her. Don't forget to inform me when my letters must stop. Your brother has made his peace in Cavendish Square 5. Adieu ! Yours ever. 1602. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Jan. 24, 1775. I return the rebus, which I forgot to commend as it deserves, having seen it before ; but I cannot tell my stories now, having much more melancholy employment. The Duke of Gloucester is dying ; the physicians have no hopes, nor the poor Duchess ! Though I am a bad courtier, I must be a good uncle ; and even a good courtier, when I can never be rewarded for it. The House of Commons sat tiU past nine last night on petitions ; but the newspapers are now tolerable journals. Lord Stanley spoke for the first time and pleased by his manner : his matter, they say, would have pleased as well on any other day. The Cophthi were an Egyptian race, of whom nobody knows anything but the learned ; and thence I gave Mrs. Montagu's academies the name of Coptic, a derivation not worth repeating or explaining. Tom Heivey is dead ; after 2 Piece torn out. had been on bad terms with her, 3 William Dowdeswell, sometime and had tried to set aside his mar- Chancellor of the Exchequer. riage. * Second son of first Earl of Bristol 6 Probably with the Princess by his second wife. He married Amelia, who lived in Cavendish Anne, daughter of Francis Coghlan, Square. Councillor-at-Law in Ireland. He 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 153 sending for his wife and reacknowledging her in pathetic heroics. 1603. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Jan. 25, 1775. The Duke of Gloucester is very iU. Had I begun my letter last night, I should have said extremely ill. It was reported and believed that he was dead ; but he slept eight hours last night, and his pulse was better this morn ing. The physicians, who gave no hopes yesterday, say to-night that they never saw any mortal symptoms. Be assured they speak as little truth of the past as they know of what is to come. The Duke has been declining this month ; and he was ordered to go abroad immediately, but delayed — and now is not able to go. I hope in God he wiU get strength enough — I wish him abroad for every reason. The other Duke1, his brother, has erected his standard in opposition, and though the Duke of Gloucester is too wise, I trust, to take such a part, he would be teased to death with the politics of the Luttrels, and had better be out of the way. The times are indeed very serious. Pacification with America is not the measure adopted. More regiments are ordered thither, and to-morrow a plan, I fear equivalent to a declaration of war, is to be laid before both Houses. They are bold ministers, methinks, who do not hesitate on a civil war, in which victory may bring ruin, and disappointment endanger their heads. Lord Chatham has already spoken out : and though his outset (a motion in the Lords last Friday) was neither wise nor successful, he will certainly be popular again with the clamorous side, which no doubt will become the popular side too, for all wars ar% costly, and consequently grievous. Acquisition alone can make Lettee 1603. — 1 The Duke of Cumberland. 154 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 those burthens palatable ; and in a war with our own colonies we must afflict instead of acquiring them, and cannot recover them without having undone them. I am still to learn wisdom and experience, if these things are not so. I thank you much for the opera of the Conclave. It loses greatly of its spirit by my unacquaintance with the dramatis personae. By the duration of the interregnum, I suppose the Holy Ghost is strangely puzzled between the crowns and the Jesuits; and the Cardinals more afraid of poison from the latter, than of the menaces of the former. Though old folks are not less ambitious than young, they have greater aversion to arsenic. But seriously, is it not amazing that the Jesuits can stiU exist, when their last crime2 was sufficient to have drawn down vengeance on them, if they had not been proscribed before ? We have no news of ordinary caUbre; but perhaps I grow too old to learn the lesser anecdotes of the town. I scarce ever go to public places, and Uve only with people who have turned the corner of adventures. Indeed in this country there is something so singular and so new in most characters, that all the world hears the history of the most remarkable performers. The winter is young yet. I dare to say it will not long be barren. 27th. The Duke of Gloucester, I hope, is out of danger ; I mean for the present. It is a constitution that wiU always give alarms ; it has radical evils, and yet amazing stamina. As to the physicians, I do not mind a syllable they say. On Saturday they were very proud of a discovery — they had now found out his distemper, and it was a new one ; he had two shivering fits, and so there was matter forming. This mighty discovery, which only authenticated their former ignorance, proves to be a new blunder. On Tuesday 2 Of poisoning Pope Ganganelli. Walpole. 1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 155 they gave the Duchess no hopes at all, and on Wednesday night they recollected that his Eoyal Highness had had no mortal symptom — for they have no shivering fit of shame. They now talk of his going abroad in April; I wish it much sooner. In short, I am very impatient, both for his health, and other reasons. He will take the Duchess and his daughters, and go no further than the South of France. That is an answer to a question ' you have not asked. His mind wiU be more at peace, and he will be free from all who would disturb it for their own ends. The Luttrels are every day, I believe, writing impertinent paragraphs in the newspapers, as if in behalf of the Duke of Gloucester, which only tends to incense the King against him, that they may involve him in their own views ; but he knows it, and will not be their dupe. Adieu ! P.S. I forgot to tell you that the town of Birmingham has petitioned the Parliament to enforce the American Acts, that is, make war ; for they have a manufacture of swords and muskets. I believe the Dutch will petition too, for much such a reason! 1604. To the Marquise du Deffand. De Londres, ce 27 Janvier, 1775. Mon cousin s'attendra a la nouvelle de la Mort de Mon seigneur le Due de Glocestre — mais tout va bien. Le Frisson de Samedi n'annon9a que la Fievre, et cette fievre est passee, et le danger aussi pour le present, a ce que je me flatte. Nos Medecins sont comme les votres, c'est a dire, des Ignorants. II y a tout lieu de croire que le Voyage 3 Whether he will go to Italy. original in Walpole's handwriting Walpole. in possession of Mr. W. R. Parker- Letteb 1604. — Not in C. ; now first Jervis. printed (verbatim et literatim) from 156 To the Marquise du Deffand [1775 d'outremer aura Ueu, mais on le remet au mois d' Avril, ce qui me paroit une ignorance nouvelle. Pourquoi le differer? Je vous avoue je n'en serai pas fache sur mon propre compte. Notre Cour est bien petite, cependant mon role ne me flatte pas. Je n'y suis pas propre ; et bien que I'interet que je prenne a la position effrayante de la Duchesse fait que je neglige rien qui puisse lui marquer mon zele, il est tres penible pour moi d'aller une ou deux fois par jour en cour. Cela ne quadre pas avec mon oisi- vete, mes amusemens, mes occupations. Cela me rejette dans le monde, et c'est contraire a tout ce que j'ai toujours aime, en un mot, a la Liberte. Je fus charme quand mon Pere quitta le Ministere; moi je quittai le Parlement d'abord que j'en pus saisir le Moment, et assurement c'est bien contre ma Volonte que je me trouve Courtisan a mon Age. Je n'en ai ni l'ambition, ni I'interet, ni l'envie, ni la jalousie, ni la faussete ; je cederois gaiement ma place a Quiconque en voudroit. Je viens de recevoir une lettre de M. Conway du 19 par un jeune Seigneur Anglais. II dit qu'ils seront de retour au terns fixe, mais j'ignore quel est ce tems fixe. II me parle d'une grande Eevolution qui va se faire dans la mode de s'habiller chez vous, et par consequent chez nous. II dit qu'il s'agit de se mettre comme les ChevaUers du St. Esprit — Oh ! pour moi je vous jure que je ne m'y mettrai point — Je ne suis point fait moi pour m'habiUer comme un Danseur de Corde. A l'Armenienne ', a la bonne heure: J'aimerai assez a m'enveloper d'un grand manteau jusqu'aux talons. Je crois qu'on a mal montre St. Cyr a mes parens. Quand j'y fus, on fit repeter des Scenes et des Dialogues de Mad. de Maintenon aux petites Demoi selles, qui les jouerent dans la perfection ; et vous scavez qu'on me fit present d'une lettre originale de la Fonda- i Alluding to Rousseau. 1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 157 trice: J'y fus cinque heures a ma grande contentement, quoique pas l'extreme felicity que je sentois avec vous a Sceaux 2, ou a la journee de Livry. Enfin il faut s'enthou- siasmer a de certaines visions, comme je fais, san quoi Tout est fade. Aussi ces Songes arrivent ils bien rarement, et ne sont que pour les EIus. Cela m'arriva une fois apres avoir ecrit le Chateau d'Otrante. Deux ou trois ans apres J'aUais a l'universit6 de Cambridge, ou j'avois passe trois annees de ma Jeunesse. En entrant dans un des Colleges que j'avois entierement oubUe, je me trouvois precisement dans la Cour de mon Chateau. Les Tours, les portes, la Chapelle, la grande Salle, tout y repondoit avec la plus grande exactitude. Enfin, l'ldee de ce College m'etoit reste dans la Tete sans y penser, et je m'en etois servi pour le plan de mon Chateau sans m'en apercevoir ; de sorte que je croyois entrer tout de bon dans celuy d'Otrante — si vous aviez ete a cote de moi, je vous aurez frappe d'extasie, comme dans le carosse quand vous me racontates votre visite a Mad. de Coulanges 3. Hah ! je n'en tre pas au palais roial avec le meme plaisir ! Couty m'a paye les Emeraudes : sont elles arrivees en bonne sante ? La Partie Angloise de ma lettre sera bien courte au- jourdhui. On a dispute tard hier a la Chambre basse sur les remontrances des Marchands Americains — mais je n'en scais point le detail, si non que Charles Fox s'est fort de- chaine contre le Seigneur North, et que le Due d'Alva* s'est distingue pour la cour. On a voulu aussi rayer Charles premier du Martyrologe : Wilkes a dit qu'il le vouloit bien, > Formerly the residence of the fand passed much time at Sceaux in Duchesse du Maine (Anne Louise her younger days. The life there is BenSdicte de Bourbon, wife of the described in the Mimoires of Madame legitimated son of Louis XXV). de Staal. Sceaux was a focus of political 3 Cousin of Madame de Sevigne1. intrigue towards the end of the * Lord George Germain. reign of Louis XIV. Madame duDef- 158 To the Marquise du Deffand [1775 ayant toujours observe le jour de sa mort comme fete, et non pas comme jour maigre : mais la Cour a prevalu dans l'une et l'autre contestation a une grande pluraUte de voix. Ce qui est drole, c'est que la Ville de Birmingham a de mande la guerre, parce qu'on y fabrique des epees et des fusils. Je finis — U n'y a pas moyen de rencherir sur cet Avis. 1605. To the Marquise du Deffand. De Londres, oe 31 Janvier, 1775. Je vous ecris aujourdhui, au lieu de Vendredy, pour deux raisons: la premiere, parce que je ne scais si mon cousin ne sera parti avant l'arrivee de celle cy ; l'autre que je veux reprendre les Mardys pour mes jours de poste, parceque vos lettres arrivant ordinairement les Samedys, je n'y peux repondre qu'apres sept jours. A l'heure qu'U est, j'ai recu Deux, l'une Samedy passe, l'autre hier au soir; celle cy ecrite conformement a votre bonte ordinaire, et a vos atten tions incroyables, pour me parler de Mad. d'Olonne, dont je commence a rougir, a cause de la peine que je vous ai donnee, et de ce que j'ai mis trop d'empressement pour une bagatelle. Si le mal n'est fait, n'en parlez pas a la Grand- maman. La politesse de votre Ami M. de Presle suffira, et je vous prie de l'en remercier extremement; aussi cet empressement fera apparemment que Mad. Mariette y mettra un prix ridicule se voyant tant pressee — mais au vrai j'ai honte de vous en tant parler. L'Abbe Bartelemi sera surement obei ; c'est le moins que je peux faire pour • vos Amis, apres tout ce que vous faites pour les miens. Ne doutez pas de leur reconnoissance. C'est la Verite meme que M. Conway, et il me parle con- stamment de vous en termes dont je ne puis nuUement douter. II conservera cette reconnoissance, U n'est ni Lettee 1605. — Not in C. ; now first in possession of Mr. W. B. Parker- printed (verbatim et literatim) from Jervis. original in Walpole's handwriting r r t 1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 159 jeune ni changeant. H est distrait, il est froid, il n'aura pas toute la chaleur que vous aimez dans vos Amis, mais il ne vous oubliera jamais. II ne vous grondera pas, en vous aimant toujours egalement. Ma MSdaiUe est a Straw berry HiU, ou je n'ai ete depuis deux mois, a cause de ma goutte, des visites, et de la Maladie de Monseigneur le Due; mais je compte d'y aller Dimanche prochain, et je rapporterai la medaiUe pour la faire dessiner. Pour les visites, j'en avois bien a faire — pour la Politique, je ne m'en soucie pas, je ne m'en mesle point. Je n'ai aucune liaison avec nos factions ; j'ai des Amis de l'un et de l'autre cote, j'entends parler des deux Chambres, et j'en mande les nouvelles a mon cousin ; mais je ne scais rien que l'evene- ment passe. M. Selwyn vint chez moi l'autre jour, et nous nous plaignimes de n'entendre parler que de l'Amerique. * Hah ! pour moi, dit il, U faut que je prenne un maitre Americain pour me mettre au ton du monde.' Son Altesse Eoiale est sortie hier pour prendre l'air. Je ne crois pas ses poumons attaques; mais il tousse beau coup, et je presse son depart. Je suis tres content de l'etrenne de M. Conway ; le mot est tres joli, et ce qui est bien plus rare, exactement vrai. Pourquoi ne pas m'envoyer ses couplets ? avez vous eu peur de m'humiUer, de ce qu'ils valent beaucoup plus que les miens ? Hah ! je ne suis point envieux, ni jaloux de ma poesie ; et encore plus eloigne d'etre fache si l'on me pre- fere mes Amis. Je vous l'ai avoue, j'ai infiniment d'or- geuU, mais point de Vanite. Jamais Auteur ne s'est moins enthousiasme pour ses ouvrages. Je n'ai rien a mander aujourdhui a mes parens, si vous les avez encore. ActueUement je ne suis occupe que d'une Tragedie nouvelle qu'on va donner, et a laquelle je m'in- teresse beaucoup. Le Sujet est tire de la Eevolution de Portugal en faveur des Bragances. Elle est tres superieure- 160 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [m5 ment ecrite : Le Language admirablement beau, la poesie charmante — cependant, j'ai peur : L'evenement est connu, et heureux, par consequent, moins interessant. De plus, PAuteur1 me paroit peu fait au ressorts du Theatre, et s'entend plus aux images de la poesie qu'aux characteres; ce qui fait qu'il y a des longueurs, et que I'interet n'est pas soutenu. C'est un Irlandois que j'ai autrefois connu, et qui a beaucoup d'esprit, et ce qui est plus surprenant, il est naturellement comique, et contrefait dans la perfection. On m'a persuade de lui faire une Epilogue, dont je ne suis nuUement content. Vous scavez que c'est notre usage im- manquable de commencer et finir une piece par des pro logues et des EpUogues. Ordinairement ces derniers morceaux sont non seulement gais, mais gaiUards — usage ridicule, de faire rire ceux qu'on vient d'attrister, et que je n'ai voulu pratiquer, de sorte que mes vers ne sont que maussades; mais comme la Satire, faute d'obscenite, nous rejouit, je me suis un peu mocque de my Lord Chesterfield, en prenant la defense du beau Sexe ; ce qui fera pardonner a la platitude de ma poesie. La piece ne sera donnee que Samedi en huit. Vous en scaurez la Eeussite. P.S. N'oubliez pas de m'avertir si je me dois habUler en danseur de corde l'annee qui vient : Mr. Conway m'a an- nonce qu'U s'agite chez vous de reprendre 1'habiUement des Chevaliers du St. Esprit : vos modes decident les notres. 1606. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Feb. 1, 1775. We are out of pain at present, Madam, about our Eoyal Highness. He has been out to take the air ; and if I had any influence, should try that in France immediately ; but 1 Robert Jephson. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 161 he says he should only pass the remaining part of the winter in bad inns, and thinks of not setting out tiU April. I know nothing of news: Lord Chatham is at this moment preparing some in the House of Lords, which wUl furnish the end of the letter. Last night I was at a ball at tie Lady's Club. It was all goddesses, instead of being a resurrection of dancing matrons as usual. The Duchess of Devonshire1 effaces all without being a beauty; but her youth, figure, flowing good-nature, sense, and lively modesty, and modest familiarity, make her a phenomenon. Don't wonder I was at a ball ; I have discovered that I am a year younger than I thought, yet I shall not use this year yet, but come out with it a dozen years hence. Mr. Jephson's tragedy, which I concluded would not answer all that I had heard of it, exceeded my expectations infinitely. The language is noble, — the poetry, simUes, and metaphors, enchanting. The harmony, the modulation of the lines, shows he has the best ear in the world. I re member nothing at all equal to it appearing in my time, though I am Methusalem in my memory of the stage. I don't know whether it will have all the effect there it deserves, as the story is so well known, and the happy event of it known too, which prevents attendrissement. Besides, the subject in reahty demands but two acts, for the conspiracy and the revolution ; but one can never be tired of the poetry that protracts it. Would you believe I am to appear on the theatre along with it? My Irish friends, the Binghams, have overpersuaded me to write an epUogue, which was wanting. They gave me the subject, which I have executed miserably ; but at least I do not make the new Queen of Portugal lay aside her majesty, and sell double entendres like Lady Bridget ToUe mache. Letter 1606. — > Georgiana Spencer, Duchess of Devonshire, WALPOLE. IX M 162 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775 I was still more surprised to find my name in print the other day: Mr. Barry, the mad Irish painter, has written a book, and not a mad or insensible one. After talking of the great masters, he says, ' As to the Dutch school, I leave it to the deep researches of the Hon. H. W. (at length) or any other such learned gentleman, if such another can be found.' Methinks this is a httle hard, Madam, seeing I have been always blamed for undervaluing the Dutch masters; but I suppose Mr. Barry has seen me laugh at some of his extravagancies in the expositions, without my knowing him. However, I shaU say nothing of that, or anything more to hurt him, if ever I defend myself from Dutchism, as perhaps I may. This, I remember, was one of the stories I promised you — I forget the rest ; but your Ladyship will remind me when we meet over a syllabub under the cow. 2nd. Yesterday's mountain miscarried with more e"clat than last time. Lord Chatham offered a bill for pacifying America by abrogating the Declaratory Law8 and the late Acts; and, they say, recaUed the memory of his ancient lustre. Lord Gower reminding him of something he had said in the other House the Lord knows when, received a thundering denial, as the gods call it ; but men, a flat lie. Lord Temple lamented the production of so mischievous a bill, which yet he would vote to admit out of respect ; but what signifies repeating the faint efforts of an old watergall opposed to its own old sun! The Duke of Grafton complained of a bUl so hurried in. Lord Chatham replied, His Grace was at least as unfairly eager to hurry it out. That Duke acquainted the assembly that he differs with everybody, and has a plan of his own to offer. Lord 2 The Declaratory Act of 1766 England over the American colonies, proclaimed the absolute rights of including the right to tax. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 163 Shelburne was violent, and Lord Mansfield so violently frightened, that he was not there ; on which I hear King George joked before all his servants, when he was told it after the play. The newspapers, which now are very accurate in recounting debates, will tell your Ladyship the rest very faithfully to-morrow. When the last Prime Minister designs to open his plan I do not know; the present produces his to-day. There is a great deal of bravery and a great deal of terror stirring ; and the address of to-day, I am told, has a layer of each. You must prepare, Madam, to talk America ; there is no other topic to be heard, and in truth it grows a very grave one. You must lay aside your botany from the hyssop to the cedar of Libanus, and study imports and exports, and charters and geography, and religion and government, and such light reading : you will have occasion for it all. In a little time the whole country will be so much in earnest, that the dispute wUl probably lie in a less compass ; people discuss at first, but are only angry and personal at last : and to be sure that is more amusing. I hope this is the last letter I shall send you before you land at Hyde Park turnpike. You will have a very good neighbourhood there; Lord and Lady Apsley3 are mighty agreeable people. 1607. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Feb. 15, 1775. You have been made easy long ago, I hope, about my gout, and have restored your good opinion to the bootikins, which reduced it to so short a fit. They could not give you 3 Tryphena, daughter of Thomas wards second Earl Bathurst), created Scawen ; m. (1759), as his second Baron Apsley in 1771. wife, Hon. Henry Bathurst (after- M 2 164 To Sir Horace Mann [ms an inflammation and swelling ; they probably prevented its being worse. It is still more idle when people say they weaken — who was ever not weak after the gout? I, who am naturally weaker than anybody, recover my feet so much that I can stamp on marble with all my force, which I never saw a gouty person besides able to do. Be assured that the physicians have set about that nonsensical notion of weaken ing, only because the bootikins do the contrary. I com plained of weakness on my breast, pf which I complained thirty years before I ever felt the gout, and the apothecary shook his head, like a knave as he was, and said he had feared they would have that effect. He had never thought so, and if he had, ought to have warned me ; but I believe no limb of the faculty ever laid in ambush to intercept and cut off an iUness to come. If you still feel weakness, you must not wonder ; the bootikins cannot make us young again. I totter as I go downstairs — but I trust I shall never totter so much as to believe in any faculty. Fools and knaves hoodwink common sense, and if it was not like insects, of which no species can be exterminated, it would not exist upon earth. The war with our colonies, which is now declared, is a proof how much influence jargon has on human actions. A war on our own trade is popular ! Both Houses are as eager for it as they were for conquering the Indies — which acquits them a little of rapine, when they are as glad of what will impoverish them as of what they fancied was to enrich them — so like are the great vulgar, and the small. Are not you foreigners amazed? We are raising soldiers and seamen — so are the Americans ; and, unluckily, can find a troop as easUy as we a trooper. But we are above descending to calculation : one would think the whole legislature were of the club at Almack's, and imagined, like Charles Fox, that our fame was to rise in proportion 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 165 to our losses. It is more extraordinary that Charles does not adopt their system, as they have copied his, but opposes them, and proposes to make his fortune when they are bankrupt. In the meantime bad news pours in from America. I do not believe all I hear — but fear I shall beheve a great deal in spite of my teeth. Another of your diplomatic brethren is become your brother in the Bath — Gordon, of Brussels. He is a fool for a comedy. We have no other news, nor think of any thing that is not beyond the Atlantic. You are strangely old-fashioned to trouble your head about the Conclave ; we care as much about the Caliphs of Bagdad. I misinformed you when I said that the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester had no thoughts of Italy; they propose passing next winter at Eome, but will not stop anywhere else. I say, this is their scheme, and wish it may be executed ; — but am far from having any sanguine hopes about his Eoyal Highness. He does not mend ; his cough is very bad, and I think he falls away. He will not leave England tUl April, because he will inoculate his children before he carries them abroad. I tremble at the delay, and have said all I dare to the Duchess against it, as I am impatient to have him set out, and think no time should be lost. As I was writing this I received a most obliging letter from Sir Horace the second at Nice, on the suit he is carrying on with my nephew for his most just debt, and professing all management for me. I have answered it, and insisted that he should have none for me. It would be strange indeed if I stood in the way of Gal's son and your nephew — and where justice too is at stake ! Indeed, it was by my advice, when I thought Lord Orford past being hurt by it. At present, all I can do is not to let any consideration of me interfere — and I charge you, when you 166 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 see him, to convince him that the greatest mark of friendship he can show me is to do himself right — and that speedily, or nothing wUl be left. Surely he is better intituled to his own than the harpies that prey upon a poor half-witted man ! I am now going to write a letter to his mother to ask a trifling favour, which I care not whether she grants or refuses — but it was at the request of another. Here is the letter, I beg you to give or send it, accordingly as she •is at Florence or Naples. 1608. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, Feb. 18, 1775. Braganza was acted last night with prodigious success. The audience, the most impartial I ever saw, sat mute for two acts, and seemed determined to judge for themselves, and not be the dupes of the encomiums that had been so lavishly trumpeted. At the third act, they grew pleased, and interested : at the fourth they were cooled and deadened by two unnecessary scenes, but at the catastrophe in the fifth, they were transported. They clapped, shouted, huzzaed, cried bravo, and thundered out applause both at the end, and when given out again; yet the action was not worthy of the poet. Mrs. Yates shone in the dignified scenes, but had not variety enough; Smith, recalling Garrick in Eichard III, played the Viceroy with great spirit ; but Eeddish * was pitiful and whining in the Duke ; Aikin 2 ridiculous in the first old conspirator, and the Friar totally insignificant, though engaged in the principal scene in the play, where indeed he has too little to say. The charming beauties of the poetry were not yet discovered, and the faults in the conduct may Lettee 1608 l Samuel Reddish (1735-1785). 2 James Aikin or Aickin (d. 1803). 1775] To the Rev. William Mason 167 be easUy mended. In short, I trust, if this tragedy does not inspire better writers, that it will at least preserve the town from hearing with patience the stuff we have had for these fifty years. There was an excellent prologue written by Murphy. For my poor epUogue, though weU delivered by Mrs. Yates, it appeared to me the flattest thing I ever heard, and the audience were very good in not groaning at it. I wish it could be spoken no more. The boxes are aU taken for five-and-twenty nights, which are more than it can be acted this season. I went to the rehearsal with all the eagerness of eighteen, and was delighted to feel myself so young again. The actors diverted me with their dissatisfactions and com plaints, and though I said all I could, committed some of what they caU proprieties, that were very improper, as seating the Duke and Duchess on a high throne, in the second act, which made the spectators conclude that the revolution, as I knew they would, had happened. The scenes and dresses were weU imagined, and the stage handsomely crowded. All this was wanted, for, from the defect in the subject, which calls for but two acts, several scenes languished. A little more knowledge of the stage in the author may prevent this in his future plays. For his poetry, it is beautiful to the highest degree. He has another fault, which is a want of quick dialogue ; there is scarce ever a short speech, so that it wiU please more on reading, than in representation. I will send it to you the moment it is published. There is nothing else new, nor do I hear of anything coming. The war with America goes on briskly, that is as far as voting goes. A great majority in both Houses is as brave as a mob ducking a pickpocket. They flatter themselves they shall terrify the colonies into submission in three months, and are amazed to hear that there is no 168 To the Eev. WiUiam Mason [1775 such probability. They might as well have excommuni cated them, and left it to the devU to put the sentence into execution. Good night, and write to me. You are an idle creature, and I am very jealous of your harpsico-violin — it is your interleaved Linnaeus s. 1609. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, Feb. 28, 1775. Thou recreant clerk ; I do not mean for not replying to my last missive, but for changing thy mind, thou unhallowed relapse, which I did not know when I wrote to thee last, or I would not have cockered thee up with a promise of Braganza ; yet to show thee that I keep faith even with heretics, thou shalt have it when thou sayest how it may be sent. Thy sin is too foul to name, but thy conscience tells thee what I mean. 'Tis an Omission worse than any of the tribe of Com ; and though posterity wiU be so selfish as to forgive it, there is not a Christian in being that ever can ; oh yes, there are some that could, though I trust they cannot. I suppose you wiU be glad to hear that I have got a codicU to my last gout? I had an inflammation in my face, and yesterday was blooded for it. It sunk in two hours, but baited and gave me a sore throat ; this morning I walked lame, and cannot walk without a stick; so the whole is gouty, for that devil can act any distemper, Uke a fine lady. It has hindered my going to Strawberry, whither the fine weather invited me. I wish we ever had such in summer. The gates of Janus's temple are open and shut every 3 ' Mr. Gray often vexed me by pranking on his lyre.' See letter to finding him heaping notes on an Lady Ossory, Sept. 8, 1791. interleaved Linnaaus, instead of 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 169 other day; the porter has a sad time of it, and deserves a reversion for three lives. We are sending the Americans a sprig of olive 1, lapped up in an Act for a famine 2 next year ; for we are as merciful as we are stout. However, as the two Houses do not much reckon upon bonfires to come, each is treating itself with one at present, and have ordered a weekly paper and a pamphlet, each called The Crisis, to be burnt by the common hangman ; and as contradictions now go hand in hand, each party has its victim. I have seen neither of the sacrifices — both they say are very stupid ; the first is too free with his Majesty ; the second compliments him with the sole right of taxation. Methinks all Parha- ments have a mortal aversion to the word crisis. Since you left town I have made another considerable purchase, for which I have been long hagghng, the rest bf the Digby miniatures. They had been divided into two shares. There is one superb piece of Sir Kenelm, his wife, and two sons, by Peter Oliver, after Vandyck, in the highest preservation, and certainly the capital miniature of the world. I am not quite sure whether you did not see them two years ago ; but why do I teU you anything ? you are twiddling your instrument of the composite order, and care no more than Orpheus whether anybody but beasts listens to you. You now owe me two letters, and paid I wiU be, or I am Your most obedient Humble servant. Lettee 1609. — 1 On Feb. 20 Lord Great Britain, Ireland, and the West North introduced a conciliatory Indies, and prohibiting them for motion to allow the colonies to tax a limited time from fishing on the themselves . banks of Newfoundland, with certain 2 An Act restraining the commerce exceptions in favour of individuals. of the New England colonies with 170 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 1610. To the Eev. William Mason. March 7, 1775. If your contempt for your contemporaries extended to total silence, perhaps I should not disagree with you. There is dignity in indignation that refuses wholesome food to a stupid age, that is content with carrion. But why then publish Gray's Life ? Keep it back till you like to publish it with the original notes. Leave the Johnsons and Mac- phersons to worry one another for the diversion of a rabble, that desires and deserves no better sport. Here is Braganza : I do not say that either the subject or conduct are interesting. The language is good, the poetry charming. Eead any tragedy written within these thirty years, and then wonder that I was delighted to see even a cousin of Melpomene. If you have translated Pygmalion1 I shaU be very glad to see him too. If you have only translated the music, I shall not be much the wiser, yet do not think my igno rance makes me supercilious. I admire all your talents, though not a judge of all. Your writings, your composite instruments, your drawings are dear to me according to my degrees of capacity ; and when I seize every opportunity of drawing you into a correspondence, does not it say that I love your letters, and do my utmost to cultivate your friendship ? Yes, I do ; let all the Prime Ministers since my father, whom you name, say as much if they can ! To my great sorrow we live at a distance, and when I wish to see you most, I have seen you least ; yet Strawberry, where you scarce ever was in summer, is pleasant then. If you would at any time give me a week, I should think it no trouble to Letter 1610. — i An opera by Rousseau, translated by Mason at Lord Nuneham's request. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 171 fetch you. Time grows precious to me, and, therefore, I would employ it in the way most agreeable to me. Don't think me importunate, but it shall not be my own fault if I do not please myself. Yours most sincerely, H. W. 1611. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, March 20, 1775. I have not written to you this month, I know: no symptom of negligence, but from want of matter. You wiU say, perhaps, ' but there have been many long days in ParUament ' : very true ; but long days make small sensa tion, when the majorities are very great, and always on the same side. The Houses go on fulminating against America; we shall see whether their edicts are regarded, or rather their troops and generals. The province of New York seems to be better disposed than the other colonies ; but we must wait for the re-echo of our new Acts, and for the Congress in May. In three months we shaU hear whether it wiU be war or peace. The nation wiU stare a little if it is the former. It is little expected, and less thought of. We are given up to profusion, extravagance, and pleasure : heroism is not at all in fashion. Cincinnatus will be found at the hazard-table, and Camillus at a ball. The vivacity of the young Queen of France has reached hither. Our young ladies are covered with more plumes than any nation that has no other covering. The first people of fashion are going to act plays, in which come dians, singers, dancers, figurantes, might aU walk at a coro nation. The summer is to open with a masquerade on the Thames. I am glad the American enthusiasts are so far off; I don't think we should be a match for them. We want more Indies ; we cannot afford to lose any. 172 To Sir Horace Mann [l775 So you have chosen a Pope ' ! Which wiU he fear most, France and Spain, or poison ? The Duke of Gloucester has lost his second daughter 3 ; both were inoculated, that he might carry them abroad. The youngest was very unhealthy, and died the next day after the disorder appeared ; the other 3, on whom he dotes, will do weU. He is far from being so himself ; coughs, and faUs away. I hope a better climate will save him. I am wishing for summer ; not to go on the water in mask, but to escape from this scene of diversions. I mix in them as little as I can ; they suit neither my age or inchnation. For some years I have loved the month of June, when I and aU the town, for we all live together, I think, are to part. I just now hear that Lord Bristol 4 is dead at the Bath. He was born to the gout from his mother's family, but starved himself to keep it off. This brought on paralytic strokes, which have dispatched him. WUl her Grace of Kingston now pass eldest, and condescend to be, as she really is, Countess of Bristol ? or wUl she come over and take her trial for the becoming dignity of the exhibition in Westminster Hall ? How it would sound, ' Elizabeth, Countess of Bristol, alias Duchess of Kingston, come into court ! ' I can teU you nothing more extraordinary, nor would any history figure near hers. It shows genius to strike out anything so new as her achievements. Though we have many uncommon personages, it is not easy for them to be superiorly particular. Adieu ! Lettee 1611. — * Giovanni Angelo s Princess Sophia Matilda. Braschi, Pope under the name of * George William Hervey, second Pius VI. Earl of Bristol. Walpole. 2 PrineossCaroline Augusta Maria. 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 173 1612. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, April 3, 1775. Well ! your book * is walking the town in midday. How it is liked I do not yet know. Were I to judge from my own feehngs, I should say there never was so entertaining or interesting a work : that it is the most perfect model of biography ; and must make Tacitus, and Agricola too, detest you. But as the world and simple I are not often of the same opinion, it will perhaps be thought very duU. If it is, all we can do is to appeal to that undutiful urchin, Posterity, who commonly treats the judgement of its parents with contempt, though it has so profound a veneration for its most distant ancestors. As you have neither imitated the teeth-breaking diction of Johnson, nor coined slanders against the most virtuous names in story, like .modern historians, you cannot expect to please the reigning taste. Few persons have had time, from their politics, diversions, and gaming, to have read much of so large a volume, which they wUl keep for the summer, when they have full as much of nothing to do. Such as love poetry, or think themselves poets, will have hurried to the verses and been disappointed at not finding half a dozen more Elegies in a Churchyard. A few fine gentlemen wiU have read one or two of the shortest letters, which not being exactly such as they write themselves, they will dislike or copy next post ; they who wish or intend to find fault with Gray, you, or even me, have, to be sure, skimmed over the whole, except the Latin, for even spite,, non est tanti . The reviewers, no doubt, are already writing against you ; not because they have read the whole, but because one's own name is always the first thing that strikes one in a book. The Lettee 1612.— > The Life of Gray. 174 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 Scotch will be more deliberate, but not less angry ; and if not less angry, not more merciful. Every Hume, however spelt, will I don't know what do ; I should be sorry to be able to guess what. I have already been asked why I did not prevent publication of the censure on David"? The truth is (as you know) I never saw the whole together till now, and not that part ; and if I had, why ought I to have prevented it? Voltaire* will cast an imbelle javelin sine ictu at Gray, for he loves to depreciate a dead great author, even when unprovoked, — even when he has com mended him alive, or before he was so vain and so envious as he is now. The Eousseaurians will imagine that I inter polated the condemnation of his Elo'ise*. In short, we shall have many sins laid to our charge, of which we are innocent ; but what can the malicious say against the innocent but what is not true? I am here in brunt to the storm ; you sit serenely aloof and smile at its sputtering. So should I too, were I out of sight, but I hate to be stared at, and the object of whispers before my face. The Maccaronis wUl laugh out, for you say I am still in the fashionable world. — 'What !' they wiU cry, as they read whUe their hair is curling, — ' that old soul ' ; for old and old-fashioned are synonymous in the vocabulary of mode, alas ! Nobody is so sorry as I to be in the world's fashionable purlieus ; still, in truth, all this is a joke and touches me little. I seem to myself a Strulbrug, who have lived past my time, and see almost my own life written before my face while I am yet upon earth, and as it were the only one of my contemporaries with whom I began the world. WeU; in a month's time there wUl be little question of Gray, and less of me. 8 See Gray's letter to JamesBeattie vol. iii. p. 378, note. of July 2, 1770. * See Gray's letter to Mason of 3 See Works of Gray, ed. Gosse, Jan. 22, 1761. 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 175 America and feathers and masquerades wiU drive us into libraries, and there I am well content to live as an humble companion to Gray and you; and, thank my stars, not on the same shelf with the Macphersons and Dalrymples. One omission I have found, at which I wonder ; you do not mention Gray's study of physic, of which he had read much, and I doubt to his hurt. I had not seen till now that dehghtful encomium on Cambridge6, when empty of its inhabitants. It is as good as anything in the book, and has that true humour, which I think equal to any of his excellencies. So has the apostrophe to Nicholls6, 'Why, you monster, I shall never be dirty and amused as long as I live,' but I wUl not quote any more, though I shall be reading it and reading it for the rest of my life. But come, here is a task you must perform, and forth with, and if you will not write to me, you shall transcribble to me, or I will combustle you. Send me incontinently all the proper names that are omitted. You know how I love writing marginal notes in my books, and there is not a word in or out of the book of which I wiU be ignorant. To save you trouble, here is a list of who is's. Page 152, fiU up the asterisks ; do. p. 174, do. 206, do. 232, 249, Peer who is it; 250? do.; the Lady of Quality? 251; the leader, 275 ; who the asterisk, 282 ? the Dr. who, 283 ? do. 284; the B.'s and E.'s 288, where, whose is Stratton? 290, Lord? You see my queries are not very numerous. If you do not answer them I will not tell you a syllable of what the fashionable say of your book, and I do not beheve you have another correspondent amongst them. At present they are labouring through a very short work, more peculiarly addressed to them, at least to a respectable part of them, 5 In Gray's letter to West written e Eev. Norton Nicholls ; see Gray's in Deo. 1736. letter to him of June 24, 1769. 176 To the Bev. William Cole [1775 the Jockey Club, who, to the latter's extreme surprise, have been consulted on a point of honour by Mr. Fitzgerald, which, however, he has already decided himself with as little conscience as they could do in their most punctiUous moments. If you will satisfy me, I will tell you the following bon mot of Foote, but be sure you don't read what follows till you have obeyed my commands. Foote was at Paris in October, when Dr. Murray 7 was, who admiring or dread ing his wit (for commentators dispute on the true reading) often invited him to dinner with his nephew8- The Ambassador produced a very smaU bottle of Tokay, and dispensed it in very smaU glasses. The uncle, to prove how precious every drop, said it was of the most exquisite growth, and very old. Foote, taking up the diminutive glass, and examining it, rephed, 'It is very little of its age.' Eeturn me my story if you don't perform the con ditions. I wish I could send you anybody's else life to write ! 1613. To the Eev. William Cole. Arlington Street, April 11, 1775. I thank you, dear Sir, for your kind letter and the good account you give of yourself — nor can I blame your change from writing — that is, transcribing to reading — sure you ought to divert yourself rather than others— though I should not say so, if your pen had not confined itself to transcripts. I am perfectly well, and heed not the weather; though I wish the seasons came a little oftener into their own places instead of each other's. From November tiU a fort- 7 The pseudonym adopted by Lord 8 Lord Stormont, Ambassador at Mansfield during his visit to France Paris. in the preceding autumn. 1775] To the Bev. William Cole 111 night ago, we had warmth that I should often be glad of in summer — and since we are not sure of it then, was rejoiced when I could get it. For myself, I am a kind of delicate Hercules : and though made of paper, have, by temperance, by using as much cold water inwardly and outwardly as I can, and by taking no precautions against catching cold, and braving aU weathers, become capable of suffering by none. My biennial visitant, the gout, has yielded to the bootikins, and stayed with me this last time but five weeks in lieu of five months. Stronger men perhaps would khl themselves by my practice, but it has done so long with me, I shall trust to it. I intended writing to you on Gray's Life, if you had not prevented me. I am charmed with it, and prefer it to all the biography I ever saw. The style is exceUent, simple, unaffected : the method admirable, artful, and judicious. He has framed the fragments (as a person said) so weU, that they are fine drawings, if not finished pictures. For my part, I am so interested in it, that I shall certainly read it over and over. I do not find that is likely to be the case with many yet. Never was a book, which people pretended to expect so much with impatience, less devoured — at least in London, where quartos are not of quick digestion. Faults are found, I hear, at Eton with the Latin poems for false quantities — no matter — they are equal to the EngUsh — and can one say more ? At Cambridge, I should think, the book would both offend much, and please — at least if they are as sensible to humour as to iU-humour. And there is orthodoxy enough to wash down a camel. The Scotch and the reviewers will be still more angry, and the latter have not a syllable to pacify them — so they who wait for their decisions will probably miss of reading the most entertaining book in the world — a punishment which they who trust to such wretched WALPOLE. IX N 178 To the Bev. William Cole [1775 judges deserve, for who are more contemptible than such judges, but they who pin their faith on them ? In answer to you, yourself, my good Sir, I shall not subscribe to your censure of Mr. Mason, whom I love and admire, and who has shown the greatest taste possible in the execution of this work. Surely he has said enough in gratitude, and done far beyond what gratitude could demand. It seems delicacy in expatiating on the legacy: particu larizing more gratitude would have lessened the evidence of friendship, and made the justice done to Gray's character look more like a debt. He speaks of him in slender cir cumstances, not as distressed — and so he was, till after the deaths of his parents and aunts, and even then, surely not rich. I think he does somewhere say that he meant to be buried with his mother, and not specifying any other place confirms it. In short, Mr. Mason shall never know your criticisms ; he has a good heart, and would feel them, though certainly not apprised that he could merit them. A man who has so called out all his friend's virtues could not want them himself. I shall be much obliged to you for the prints you destine for me. The Earl of Cumberland I have, and will not rob you of. I wish you had been as successful with Mr. G. as with Mr. T. ' I mean, if you are not yet paid — now is the time, for he has sold his house to the Duke of Marlborough — I suppose he wUl not keep his prints long : he changes his pursuits continually and extravagantly — and then sells to indulge new fancies. I have had a piece of luck within these two days. I have long lamented our having no certain piece written by Anne Boleyn's brother, Lord Eochford. I have found a very pretty copy of verses by him in the new published second Letteb 1613. — * Perhaps Mr. Gulston and Mr. Tyson. ocAj^e£t^,&Vuoc . 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 179 volume of the Nugae Antiquae", though by mistake he is called Earl of, instead of Viscount, Eochford. They are taken from a MS. dated twenty-eight years after the author's death, and are much in the manner of Lord Surry's and Sir Tho. Wyat's poems. I should at first have doubted if they were not counterfeited, on reading my Noble Authors ; but then the blunder of Earl for Viscount would hardly have been committed. A little modernized, and softened in the cadence, they would be very pretty. I have got the rest of the Digby pictures, but at a very high rate. There is one very large of Sir Kenelm, his wife, and two sons, in exquisite preservation, though the heads of him and his wife not so highly finished as those I have — yet the boys and draperies are so amazing, that, together with the size, it is certainly the most capital miniature in the world.' — There are a few more, very fine too. I shall be happy to show them to you, whenever you Burnhamize — I mean before August, when I propose making my dear old blind friend a visit at Paris — nothing else would carry me thither. I am too old to seek diver sions, and too indolent to remove to a distance by choice, though not so immovable as you to much less distance. Adieu ! pray tell me what you hear is said of Gray's Life at Cambridge. Yours ever, H. W. 1614. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, April 14, 1775. What is the perfection of ingratitude? silence. What is the perfection of gratitude ? silence. Obedience is better than sacrifice, but obedience may be sacrifice too : judge. 2 Compiled from family papers relating to the Haringtons by Rev. Henry Harington (1755-1791). N 2 180 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 We are both a little disappointed, are not we? How could we imagine that a quarto, that contained nothing but wit, humour, sentiment, truth, morality, reflection, genuine and original poetry, and the memoirs of two poets, of which one was a youth without guUe or gall, and the other a good man through life, should interest the present age ; especially when such ingredients were arranged with exquisite taste and judgement, and compose the most pleasing work, the standard of biography? No, my good friend, unless folks spare their praises because it would charm me to hear them, I have been forced to ask what is thought of Gray's Life. Indeed nobody, without my avidity, could read it at once, and as it has been pubhshed a fortnight, it was impossible it could keep its station amidst the torrent of unlivery follies that overflow each day. WeU, the best books were certainly never calculated for the plurality of readers ; or, which is wondrous rare, some very good judge must be the dictator of the age. Still it is a comfort that works of genius are indestructible. They can neither be overlaid by the dullness of cotemporaries, nor escape the penetration of subsequent taste in aU centuries, who, like the adepts in chemistry, transmit the secret to the brotherhood, and preserve the nostrum of the elixir for those who are worthy of it. For me, though I recur once or twice a day to the volume, I have had time to read other things too, as a journey to Spain and Portugal, by a Mr. Twiss \ who tells one nothing in vulgar aims at wit but what Baretti and others have told, that those kingdoms contain nothing but muleteers and bad inns, and are as dull and depopulated as countries must be, where the Inquisition has reigned so long, and despotism reigns still. I have waded through Mr. Tyrr- Lettee 1614.— 1 Richard Twiss (1747-1821). 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 181 whit's2 most tedious notes to the Canterbury Tales, for a true antiquary can still be zealous to settle the genuine shape of a lump of mineral from which Dryden extracted all the gold, and converted into beautiful medals. I was paid for my trouble by hghting on this couplet, so applicable to her Grace of Kingston, — I graunt it well, I have of non envie, Who maidenhed preferre to bigamie. I have dipped into the second volume of Nugae Antiquae, and was lucky there too, finding a madrigal, not at all despicable, by the Viscount Eochford (Anne Boleyn's brother), of whom I had never been able to discover a single distich. For Macpherson, I stopped dead short in the first volume ; never was such a heap of insignificant trash and lies. One instance shall suffice : in a letter from a spy to James II there is a blank for a name : a note without the smallest ground to build the conjecture on, says, 'prob ably the Earl of Devonshire ',' pretty well ! yet not content, the honest gentleman says in the index, 'The Earl of Devonshire is suspected of favouring the excluded family.' Can you suspect such a worthy person of forgery? could he forge Ossian? I forgot, in excuse for the town, to tell you that it is very busy about a history of two Perreau's* and a Mrs. Eudd, who are likely to be hanged for misapplying their ingenuity. They drew bills, instead of rising from the pUlory to pensions by coining anecdotes against the author and friends of the Eevolution. As Mrs. Eudd has turned evidence, I suppose as soon as her husband is executed, 2 Thomas Tyrwhitt (1730-1786), shire. who first exposed the ' Rowley ' * Daniel and Robert Perreau were forgeries in print. found guilty, and hanged in Jan. s William Cavendish (1641-1707), 1776 ; Mrs. Rudd was acquitted. fourth Earl and first Duke of Devon- 182 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 she will have eight hundred a year to educate her children. To return to Ossian : is not it evident that the Scots are of Irish parentage? Hurt at the charge of having never produced a poet, they forge an epic in prose. Thank you for answering my queries. I have one more : who was the person Gray suspected of writing Colman's and Lloyd's satire6? I imagine, the person mentioned in the next page. Mr. Chute says, Posterity wUl not believe that such a book as yours could be written in this age, which has so totally lost sight of taste and common sense. Pray, did you write it now, or when somehow or other (as woman and the French say) you Uved in the Augustan age? Since I wrote this, I have gone further into the Nugae Antiquae, and have found three invaluable letters with ad mirable pictures of the courts of that time. They show clearly what a sad dog Queen Bess was, and K James what a silly bitch. There is a bon mot to the latter of Sir John Harrington's (translator of Ariosto), who had a great deal of wit. The son of David ' did much presse for my opinion touchinge the power of Satane in matter of witchcraft, and askede me with much gravitie if 1 did truelie understande why the devil did worke more with anciente women than others. I did not refraine from a scurvey jeste, and even saide (notwithstandinge to whom it was saide) that we were taughte hereof in scripture, where it is tolde that the devil walke th in dry places.' Was it possible to make a better answer to such a foolish question ? Is not this worthy of being hung up as a companion to Foote's ? bad as the ages we wot of, they furnish bans mots at least. Lord Nuneham has just been here, and says everybody 6 Gray at first suspected Riohard 1754-60. See his letter to Mason of Pottinger, Under Secretary of State, June 7, 1760. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 183 he has heard speak of it likes your book; that does not content me ; they must say as Mr. Chute and I do, that we wiU read it for the rest of our lives. Adieu. Your constant reader, H. W. P.S. I forgot to put my letter in the post on Saturday. 1615. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, April 17, 1775, It is more equitable to suppose that my conception is worn out, than that the world wants events. I tell you of a nation of madmen, and yet want instances. It is certain, both that we do not grow sage, and that I have nothing to say. The town is divided into two great classes, the politicians and the pleasurists. The first are occupied with that vast foetus, the American contest; and wars at that distance do not go on expeditiously. Wilkes has arrived at his neplus ultra ; he has presented a remonstrance1 in form to the Throne ; and, with the magnanimity of an Alexander, used his triumph with moderation — in modern language, with good breeding. The younger generation game, dress, dance, go to Newmarket. Some of them, not juniors all, learn to sing. Cortez was victorious in our last opera, Montezuma. I doubt the Americans wUl not be vanquished in recitative. The cause of M. de Guisnes2 is still going on. The Letteb 1615. — i On April 10, 1775, Guines and his former secretary. Wilkes, as Lord Mayor, presented to The latter, M. Tort, accused the the King a remonstrance from the Comte of gambling in the funds. Livery of London against the Ameri- M. de Guines on his side accused can Bills. George HI owned that Tort of abstracting money and he had never seen so well-bred a papers, of smuggling, and of corn- Lord Mayor. municating dispatches to outsiders. 2 A lawsuit between the Comte de Tort was ordered to apologize and 184 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 publications would fill a whole shelf. The Due d'Aiguillon has, in self-defence, sent forth their correspondence. I have not read it yet; he will find it difficult to appear white in my eyes. Lady Gertrude Hotham s (Lord Chesterfield's sister), one of the few whom perhaps you remember, is dead ; she set her ruffle, and thence the rest of her dress, on fire, and died of it in ten days. She had wit Uke all her brothers, but for many years had been a Methodist. About two years ago, as the Earl was ill, she went with her Primate, Lady Huntingdon4, to try to tempt him to one of their seminaries in Wales, hoping to get at his soul by a cranny in his health. They extoUed the prospects, and then there were such charming mountains ! ' Hold, ladies,' said he ; 'I don't love mountains, — when your Ladyship's faith has removed the mountains, I will go thither with all my heart ! ' What pity there is nothing of that wit in his letters ! Is it possible this is all I should have to teU you after a month's silence ? 'Tis well I have made it a rule to be punctual ; how natural to wait till something should happen, if I were not a prodigy of regularity! I am here alone, courting a coy spring, who sends me a cross answer by an east wind, and am forced to content myself with the old housekeeper, a fire. I have books, and prints, and play things, and the time passes agreeably, but will not do to relate. Your letters will be particularly acceptable, when you have got your nephew — not that nephews are charming things, but I am sure you wiU like yours, though you must allow for a vast difference in your ideas. You have been forty years out of England, and can have but a very faint image of what it is now. You have seen nothing but raw pay a fine, but neither of the parties Baronet, of Scarborough. was satisfied by the verdiot, and 4 Lady Selina Shirley, Countess both appealed. Dowager of Huntingdon. Walpole. 3 Widow of Sir Charles Hotham, 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 185 boys and rawer governors. Your nephew has just lived long enough to be formed on the present scale ; at Florence one may subsist for a century on the same way of thinking. He has drops of your and his father's blood, that is, gentle, humane feelings. Talk to his heart, not to his language. In short, think that anything you see, and do not approve, is the growth of the age, and not peculiar to him. When you discover his father, be sure it is his own. Believe me, I found him so preferable to his contemporaries, that I loved him. The Countess has not deigned to send me an answer — perhaps will say she has — or perhaps thinks there is a plot against her, and has written to her lawyers for advice. Take no notice; I was totally indifferent whether she complied with my request or not, but could not refuse to make it. She must have a marveUous quantity of cunning if she suspects me of it, who have done nothing but what my duty compelled me to do against my inclina tion. Were her son to relapse, she would see whether I was so fond of power ! After passing my life in shunning power and self-interest, I am scarce trying to trick an old woman out of a living for a man I never saw ! — Do not jog her, I am content with the reasonable excuse she gives me of writing to her no more. Adieu ! Arlington Street, April 22 s. This letter would have set out yesterday if I had come to town, as I intended : now it cannot depart till Tuesday ; and for anything it contains, will arrive time enough. Yours of the 8th met me here, and seems to complain of my long silence. The beginning of my letter shows I was conscious it was time to write— and yet I am not aware that I have ever exceeded the interval of a month, and 6 Printed by Cunningham as a separate letter. 186 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 am never so long without writing, if anything material happens. This whole winter has been passed ih condemn ing the Americans and preparing punishments for them, and possibly for ourselves too. Nothing looks as if they would submit — but mere reasonings and speculations I never send you. You are mistaken if you think our populace disturb the ministry in their proceedings. The mob have not yet entered into the quarrel. The Americans are far from being popular here. If they are not subdued, or their refractoriness is attended with any national calamity, I should think the consequences would be very serious indeed! — but I never guess or conjecture — especially in so wide a field. I dined to-day at the Exhibition of Pictures, with the Eoyal Academicians. We do not beat Titian or Guido yet. Zoffani has sent over a wretched Holy FamUy. What is hd doing ? Does he return, or go to Eussia, as they say ? He is the Hogarth of Dutch painting, but, no more than Hogarth, can shine out of his own way. He might have drawn the Holy Family well if he had seen them in statu quo. Sir Joshua Eeynolds is a great painter, but, unfortunately, his colours seldom stand longer than crayons. We have a Swede, one Loutherbourg, who would paint landscape and cattle exceUently if he did not in every picture indulge some one colour inordinately. Horse, dogs, and animals we paint admirably, and a few landscapes well. The prices of all are outrageous, and the numbers of professors still greater. We have an American, West, who deals in high history, and is vastly admired, but he is heavier than Guercino, and has still less grace, and is very inferior. We have almost a statuary or two, and very good architects ; but as Vanbrugh dealt in quarries, and Kent in lumber, Adam, our most admired, is all gingerbread, filigraine, and fan-painting. Wyatt, less fashionable, has as much taste, is grander, and 1775] To the Bev. William Cole 187 more pure. We have private houses that cost more than the Palace Pitti ". WiU you never come and see your fine country before it is undone ? 1616. To the Eev. William Cole. Arlington Street, April 25, 1775. The least I can do, dear Sir, in gratitude for the cargo of prints I have received to-day from you, is to send you a medicine. A pair of bootikins will set out to-morrow morning in the machine that goes from the Queen's Head in Gray's Inn Lane. To be certain, you had better send for them where the machine inns, lest they should neglect delivering them at Milton. My not losing a moment shows my zeal — but if you can bear a little pain, I should not press you to use them. I have suffered so dreadfully, that I constantly wear them to diminish the stock of gout in my constitution ; but as your fit is very slight, and will not last, and as you are pretty sure by its beginning so late that you will never have much ; and as the gout certainly carries off other complaints, had not you better endure a little, when it is rather a remedy than a disease ? I do not desire to be entirely delivered from the gout, for all reformations do but make room for some new grievance ; and, in my opinion, a disorder that requires no physician is preferable to any that does. However, I have put relief in your power, and you wiU judge for yourself. You must tie them as tight as you can bear, the flannel next to the flesh ; and when you take them off, it should be in bed. Eub your feet with a warm cloth, and put on warm stockings, for fear of catching cold whUe the pores are open. It would kill anybody but me, who am of adamant, to walk out into the dew in winter in my shppers in half an hour after pulling off the bootikins. * Palace of the Great Dukes at Florence. Walpole. 188 To the Bev. William Cole [i775 A physician sent me word, good-naturedly, that there was danger of catching cold after the bootikins, unless one was careful. I thanked him, but told him my precaution was, never taking any. All the winter I pass five days in a week without walking out, and sit often by the fireside till seven in the evening. When I do go out, whatever the weather is, I go with both glasses of the coach down, and so I do at midnight out of the hottest room. I have not had a single cold, however slight, these two years. You are too candid in submitting at once to my defence of Mr. Mason. It is true I am more charmed with his book than I almost ever was with one. I find more people like the grave letters than those of humour, and some think the latter a little affected, which is as wrong a judgement as they could make; for Gray never wrote anything easily but things of humour. Humour was his natural and original turn — and though, from his childhood, he was grave and reserved, his genius led him to see things ludicrously and satirically ; and though his health and dissatisfaction gave him low spirits, his melancholy turn was much more affected than his pleasantry in writing. You knew him enough to know I am in the right — but the world in general always wants to be told how to think, as weU as what to think. The print 1, I agree with you, though Uke, is a very disagreeable likeness, and the worst likeness of him. It gives the primness he had when under constraint ; and there is a blackness in the countenance which was Uke him only the last time I ever saw him, when I was much struck with it; and, though I did not apprehend him in danger, it left an impression on me that was uneasy, and almost prophetic of what I heard but too soon after leaving him. Wilson drew the picture under much such impression, and Lettee 1616. — i The print prefixed to the 4to edition of the Memoirs of Gray. 1775] To the Bev. William Cole 189 I could not bear it in my room; Mr. Mason altered it a little, but still it is not well, nor gives any idea of the determined virtues of his heart. It just serves to help the reader to an image of the person whose genius and integrity they must admire, if they are so happy as to have a taste for either. The peep into the gardens at Twickenham is a siUy little book, of which a few little copies were printed some years ago for presents, and which now sets up for itself as a vendible book. It is a most inaccurate, superficial, blunder ing account of Twickenham and other places, drawn up by a Jewess2, who has married twice, and turned Christian, poetress, and authoress. She has printed her poems, too, and one complimentary copy of mine, which in good breed ing I could not help sending her in return for violent compliments in verse to me. I do not remember that hers were good ; mine I know were very bad, and certainly never intended for the press. I bought the first volume of Manchester 3, but could not read it ; it was much too learned for me ; and seemed rather an account of Babel than Manchester, I mean in point of antiquity. To be sure, it is very kind in an author to promise one the history of a country town, and give one a circumstantial account of the antediluvian world into the bargain. But I am simple and ignorant, and desire no more than I pay for. And then for my progenitors, Noah and the Saxons, I have no curiosity about them. Bishop Lyttelton used to plague me to death with barrows, and tumuli, and Eoman camps, and aU those bumps in the ground that do not amount to a most imperfect ichnography ; but, in good truth, I am content with all arts when perfected, nor inquire * Apparently a Mrs. Penny. (See 3 The History of Manchester, by Nichols's Illustrations of literature, John Whitaker (1735-1808). vol. vii. pp. 541-2.) 190 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 how ingeniously people contrived to do without them — and I care still less for remains of art that retain no vestiges of art. Mr. Bryant, who is sublime in unknown knowledge, diverted me more, yet I have not finished his work, no more than he has. There is a great ingenuity in discovering all history (though it has never been written) by etymologies. Nay, he convinced me that the Greeks had totally mistaken all they went to learn in Egypt, &c, by doing, as the French do still, judge wrong by the ear — but as I have been trying now and then for above forty years to learn something, I have not time to unlearn it all again, though I allow this is our best sort of knowledge. If I should die when I am not clear in the History of the World below its first three thousand years, I should be at a sad loss on meeting with Homer and Hesiod, or any of those moderns in the Elysian fields, before I knew what I ought to think of them. Pray do not betray my ignorance : the reviewers and such litterati have caUed me a learned and ingenious gentleman. I am sorry they ever heard my name, but don't let them know how irreverently I speak of the erudite, whom I dare to say they admire. These wasps, I suppose, wiU be very angry at the just contempt Mr. Gray had for them, and wUl, as insects do, attempt to sting, in hopes that their twelve- penny readers will suck a little venom from the momentary tumour they raise — but good night — and once more, thank you for the prints. Yours ever, H. W. 1617. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, May 7, 1775. Methinks I am grown an uninteresting correspondent. Yet I know not how to help it. I never could compose letters; they were forced to write themselves, and lived 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 191 upon their daUy bread. I have not only done with pohtics, but politics have done with themselves. They depend on opposition, as a private dispute does — and there is scarce any such thing — I mean in these islands. There is, indeed, beyond the seas an opposition, so big, that most folks call it a rebeUion, which if computed by the tract of country it occupies, we, as so diminutive in comparison, ought rather to be called in rebellion to that. All the late letters thence are as hostile as possible ; and, unless their heads are as cool as their hearts seem determined, it wiU not be long before we hear of the overt acts of war. Our three Generals x are sailed, and Gage wiU have a pretty large army. They say he is preparing to attack the American magazine. Our stake is deep, though, like other rebellions, this does not aim at the capital ; yet it is that kind of war in which even victory may ruin us. Some of your corps diplomatique menace us with the great armaments preparing in Spain, but the stocks, that are no heroes, do not seem to believe them ; and I am too brave to be frightened before they are. I live a good deal here, and the Spaniards must be at Brentford before I shall make the militia of Twickenham turn out. The map of America I have forgotten, and cannot learn it again now, but leave it to a younger generation, whose business it wUl be. I have outlived very nearly aU the persons that were on the stage when I came into the world. My c^emporaries seem going too. I have lost three of them very lately, Lady Milton ', General Boscawen 3, and the Duchess of Montagu * — I don't believe the latter's death has put the same thoughts into her widower's head as it has into mine : he wiU think of Letter 1617. — 1 Generals Bur- 3 Third son of Hugh, first Viscount goyne, Clinton, and Howe. Falmouth. Walpole, 2 Lady Caroline Sackville, daugh- * Mary, second daughter of John, ter of Lionel, Duke of Dorset, and second Duke of Montagu. Wai- wife of Joseph Damer, Lord Milton, pole. Walpole. 192 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 leaving a young Duke s, before he packs up. The Duchess has given 7,000?. a year to her daughter the Duchess of Buccleuch, and as much to the Duke of Montagu, yet only for his life, so perhaps she was not very desirous of his having a son and heir. Another of our number is dying, the Duchess of Northumberland. Her turtle wUl not be so impatient for a mate, as his patent 6 does not enable him to beget Percys — a Master or Miss Smithson would sound Uke natural children. The papers, my only informers, say your new Pope has opened the cage of the Jesuits, and let them fly. So has the King of France done for Madame du Barri. I suppose both will return to their former professions, — different kinds of intrigues. His Holiness, I suppose, was afraid of follow ing his predecessor too soon. Have not you got your nephew yet ? Pray, when he leaves you, give him a packet of my letters ; it is long since I had one, and I take for granted that he wiU return by next session. The present session, say my oracles, is to end this month. So is the cause of Monsieur de Guisnes — it is time ; the controversy amounts to many volumes, and exhausted my patience ; I could not go through it. His adversary 7, I am 6 The Duke's only son, Lord Mon- umberland did, and was made a tagu of Boughton, died in 1766. The Duke. Soon after Lord Cardigan got Duke did not marry again. the Dukedom without that limita- 6 George Brudenel, Earl of Cardi- tion, and only lost the precedence gan, husband of Lady Mary Montagu, he would have had over Lord Cardi- one of the co-heiresses of Duke John ; gan, who was a senior Earl. Walpole. and Sir Hugh Smithson, Earl of — The last sentence of this note is Northumberland, husband of Lady unintelligible as it stands. Horace Elizabeth Seymour, sole heiress of Walpole no doubt meant that had Algernon, Duke of Somerset, were to the Earl of Cardigan accepted the be created Dukes at the same time, Dukedom when it was first offered but as it was from the pretensions to him, he would have retained his of their wives, George III rightly precedence over the Duke of North- would not entail the Dukedoms on umberland, to whom as an Earl he their children by other wives. The was senior. Earl of Cardigan would not accept it 7 M. Tort. on that condition ; the Earl of North- 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 193 told by those who have more phlegm, has lost aU temper and discretion, abuses even his protectors, and the pubUc, for being against him. This looks well for De Guisnes ; if anything can pay him for what he has undergone ! What courage any man must have that supports a con troversy! It is treating your enemies with everything that can be said to your prejudice. How can one hate one enemy more than aU ? As Strawberry furnishes so little, and this letter is not impatient to set out, I shall carry it to town, and keep it for more bulk. Yet I must commend myself a little first. I have finished this house and place these -three years, and yet am content with and enjoy it — a very uncommon case in a country where nobody is pleased but while they are improving, and where they are tired the moment they have done. I choose my house should enjoy itself, which poor houses and gardens seldom do, for people go on mending till they die, and the next comer, who likes to improve too, begins to mend all that has been done. I knew what I wished ; I have it, and am satisfied— and yet do not forget that I am one of my eotemporaries ! I have all my life been blessed with knowing my own mind. I never wished to be anybody, that is, anything; and when the moments have arrived in which I might have been what I pleased, I resisted them, and persisted in my nothing- hood. I hated Parliament, resolved to quit it, and did : was told I should repent, but never have. There ends my panegyric on myself; and pray don't think it very high- flown, when the sum of all is, that I am content with a small house and garden, and with being nobody. Tuesday, 9th. Mr. Croft teUs me your brother is in affliction for the loss of his eldest daughter, who was married to Eivington the printer. I did not know he had WALPOLE. IX 194 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 an eldest daughter — oh, but yea — and more — all Fitzes8 — but not by the same mother. You and I have no business to know of more than are in the Court Calendar. This is all town has added to my stock. Adieu ! 1618. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, May 7, 1775. Op all the birds in the air, I like a Freemason best, and next a physician that gives one pUls to purge melancholy. I am content to be sick, when my medicines are palatable. I remember the first words of a letter I wrote to you into Suffolk, and if you do too, repeat them if possible with exaggeration. You are the idlest of beings, and never set pen to paper, or I am an indefatigable correspondent, and plague you with my letters. I cannot help it. Not that I have any thing to say, or any reason for not waiting to hear from you. The reviews do not know yet what to say to your book, and so have not mentioned it ; probably they are afraid of stumbling over the JGolian harp again, and are weighing every word they write in a pair of lexicon-scales. Lord Nuneham, who maintained to me at first that every body was charmed with your work, does own now that some folks begin to carp at it, had cause to disUke it, have had time to whisper their prejudices, no matter. Its merit does not depend on the competence of the present age : you have fixed the method of biography, and whoever will write a life weU must imitate you. You have done another service that you are not aware of. I, who, simpleton as I was, loved to be an author, am so ashamed of my own stuff, and so convinced that nobody but you and Gray could write, have taken shame to myself, 8 All natural children. Walpole. 1775] To the Bev. WiUiam Mason 195 and forsworn the press ; yet as I cannot be idle, it is impos sible, I have invented a new and very harmless way of malting boohs, which diverts me as well, and brings me to no disgrace. I have just made a new booh, which costs me only money, which I don't value, and time, which I love to employ. It is a volume of etchings by noble authors. They are bound in robes of crimson and gold : the titles are printed at my own press, and the pasting is by my own hand. What I shaU compose next I do not know. As you too seem to have given over writing, I wish you would draw for me, or etch ; but with your variety of talents, perhaps you are making another match between two musical instruments. Is Mynheer Drum contracted with Signora Flageolet? or are you contriving how to make one mouth blow a trumpet, and sing at the same time? Mr. Bentley was always inventing new dishes by compounding heterogeneous ingredients, and called it cul tivating the Materia Edica ; for you geniuses hate the beaten road. He never would draw with common colours, or Indian ink, but being purely indolent too, always dipped his brush in the first thing he met, no matter whether the ashes, or the oil and vinegar, or all together, and ten to one but he tasted too, whether they would not make a good Sauce, for cleanliness was not one of his delicacies. I have been at all the exhibitions, and do not find that we are got an inch nearer Eaphael than we were. Sir Joshua has indeed produced the best portrait he ever painted, that of the Primate of Ireland1, whom age has softened into a beauty: all the painters are begging to draw him, as they did from Eeynolds's beggar-man. My brother has given me the view of Gray's tomb and churchyard, very prettily done, and inspired by Gray's own melancholy. I have hung it here in my favourite blue room, as a com- Letteb 1618. — 1 Dr. Richard Robinson, afterwards Lord Rokeby. O 2 196 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 panion to Madame de Sevigne's H6tel de Carnavalet, and call them my Penseroso and Allegro. Sir Edward was disappointed at your not revising his pentachord 2, for you inventors are jealous gods ; but I assured him you had left town in a very few days after you were with him. I am to dine on Monday at the H6tel d'Harcourt 3. The town says the father's kingdom is soon to be invaded by the Spaniards; but the ministers, who certainly ought to know best, swear it is not true ; so to be sure it is not. I forgot to tell you that our friend Mrs. D.4 is one of the warmest admirers of Gray's Life ; but then she is equaUy charmed with Mrs. Chapone's writings, and thinks they wiU go a great way towards making the Bible fashionable. She lent them to me, but alas ! they could not have so much effect on me, had I wanted it, for I could not read the Madam's works themselves. Have you had your summer, as we have? The fine ladies did not dare to ride on the causeway from Wednesday was se'nnight till last Friday^ for fear of being tanned. We are now relapsed to fires. Adieu. Yours most devotedly, H. W. P.S. I like the H6tel d'Harcourt ; it has grand air and a kind of Louis XIV old-fashionhood that pleases me. There is a large garden and new parterre, and we want some treillage if the Irish Exchequer would afford -it. Lord N. says Oxford pouts at you as weU as Cambridge. Lord 1 An instrument invented by Sir myself lately with Mr. Mason's pub- Edward Walpole. lication of Mr. Gray's Memoirs and 3 Harcourt House, in Cavendish liked them extreamly. Mr. Mason's Square. zeal for his friend is very amiable.' * Doubtless Mrs. Delany, who was Mrs. Delany was also an admirer of on very friendly terms with both the works of Mrs. Hester Chapone Mason and Walpole. She wrote to her (1727-1801), nie Mulso, authoress of brother, Mr. Granville (apparently Letters on tlie Improvement of the in the year 1775), 'I have amused Mind. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 197 Lyttelton does not admire. Mr. Palgrave, who was here this morning, says all the world admires, which is more than I demand. Pray, because you have written the book, do you never design to write anything else ? Is the English Garden to be a fragment, and do you expect that anybody should finish it and write your life, as well as you have done both for Gray ? 1619. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, May 17, 1775. Ie you could not help writing, my dear Sir, to teU me of your nephew's arrival, I can as little help wishing you joy of it, though I wrote to you but last week. I told you how pleased and charmed you would be with him ; and you must aUow I am a good judge of the harmony of such natures as yours and his. Keep him as long as you can, and may the pure air of Florence restore Lady Lucy's1 health! I have nothing of news to add to my last. The ministers are easy about the Spanish fleet. For France, she has business of her own. There have been great tumults even in Paris on the dearness of corn. The King is already angry with his restored Parliament, who, fancying itself restored to Uberty, took upon itself to examine the rioters. The new Well-beloved posted to his lit de justice, but was in such a passion that, though he attempted it four times, he could not speak ; others may fancy he wanted words from more causes than one. I saw a gentleman the other day just arrived from Paris, who says the clergy are sus pected of having excited the commotions. The ministers, who fear the return of the Due de Choiseul, choose to impute them to him. Lbttbe 1619.— 1 Lady Lucy Mann, wife of the younger Sir Horace. 198 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 When I came out of town Lord Temple was thought dying 2- The Duchess of Northumberland is still alive. By what you say of Mr. Seymour3, the Pretender and his wife should be at Paris ; is that so ? All the English seem to be in love with her : at least the future Lord Temple 4 was so. You have not more masquerades in carnival than we have ; there is one at the Pantheon to-night, another on Monday ; and in June is to be a pompous one on the water, and at Eanelagh. This and the first are given by the club called the Sgavoir Vivre, who till now have only shone by excess of gaming. The leader is that fashionable orator Lord Lyttelton6, of whom I need not tell you more. I have done with these diversions, and enjoy myself here. Your old acquaintance, Lord and Lady Dacre, and your old friend Mr. Chute, dined with me to-day: poor Lord Dacre" is carried about, though not worse than he has been these twenty years. Strawberry was in great beauty ; what joy I should have in showing it to you ! Is this a wish I must never indulge ? Alas ! I have had a long chain of thoughts since I wrote the last paragraph. They ended in smiling at the word never. How one pronounces it to the last moment ! Would not one think I counted on a long series of years to come ? Yet no man has the termination of all his views more before his eyes, or knows better the idleness of framing visions to oneself. One passes away so soon, and worlds succeed to worlds, in which the occupiers buUd the same castles in the air. What is ours but the present moment ? And how many of mine are gone ! And what do I want 2 He lived until 1779. He became the third EarL 3 Henry Seymour, ofKnoyle, Wilt- 6 Thomas, second Lord Lyttelton ; shire. Mann mentioned that he ad- he had been at Elorence. Walpole. mired the Countess of Albany. 6 Thomas Lennard Barrett ; his * Richard Grenville, who became wife was sister of Lord Camden. the second Earl Temple. Walpole.— Walpole. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 199 to show you ? A plaything-vision, that has amused a poor transitory mortal for a few hours, and that wiU pass away like its master! Well, and yet is it not as sensible to conform to common ideas, and to live while one lives? Perhaps the wisest way is to cheat oneself. Did one concentre all one's thoughts on the nearness and certainty of dissolution, all the world would lie eating and sleeping like the savage Americans. Our wishes and views were given us to gild the dream of life, and if a Strawberry Hill can soften the decays of age, it is wise to embrace it, and due gratitude to the Great Giver to be happy with it. The true pain is the reflection on the numbers that are not so blessed ; yet I have no doubt but the real miseries of life — I mean those that are unmerited and unavoidable, — wul be compensated to the sufferers. Tyrants are a proof of an hereafter. MiUions of men cannot be formed for the sport of a cruel child. How happy is the Pretender in missing a crown ! When dead, he wiU have all the advantage that other kings have, the being remembered ; and that greater advantage, which kings who die in their childhood have, historians will say, he would have been a great king if he had lived to reign ; and that greatest advantage which so very few of them have, his reign will be stained with no crimes and blunders. If he is at Florence, pray recommend me to him for his his torian ; you see I have all the quahties a monarch demands, I am disposed to flatter him. You may tell him too what I have done for his uncle Eichard III7. The deuce is in it if I am not qualified for a Eoyal Historiographer, when I have whitewashed one of the very few whom my brethren, so contrary to their custom, have agreed to traduce. Adieu ! 7 Alluding to his Historic Doubts concerning Richard IIL 200 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 22nd. Our papers will tell you, or your own, that the Queen of Denmark is dead — happUy for her, I think, if she had any feeling. They say it was a rapid putrid fever. I know no more of it, for I am but this moment come to town to get my mourning. 1620. To the Eev. William Mason. May 27, 1775. To Mrs. Crewe1, By the Honourable Charles Fox. Where the lovehest Expression to Feature is join'd, By Nature's most delicate pencil design'd, Where Blushes unbidden and SmUes without Art Speak the sweetness and feehng that dwell in the heart ; Where in Manners enchanting no Blemish we trace, But the Soul keeps the Promise we had from the Face, Sure Philosophy, Eeason, and Coldness must prove Defences unequal to shield us from Love. Then tell me, mysterious Enchanter, O teU By what wonderful Art, or by what magic Spell, My Heart is so fenc'd, that for once I am wise And gaze without Madness on Amoret's eyes: That my Wishes which never were bounded before, Are here bounded by Friendship, and ask for no more. Is it Eeason? No, that my whole Life wiU belie, For who so at variance as Eeason and I? Is't Ambition that fills up each Chink of my Heart, Nor aUows to one softer Sensation a Part? Ah ! no ! for in this aU the World must agree, That one Folly was never sufficient for me. Is my Mind on Distress so intensely employ'd? Or by Pleasure relax'd or Variety cloy'd ? Lettee 1620. — 1 Frances (d. 1818), who was created Baron Crewe in daughter of Eulke Greville ; m. (1766) 1806. John Crewe, of Crewe Hall, Cheshire, 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 201 For, alike in this only, Enjoyment and Pain Both slacken the Springs of the Nerves which they strain. That I've felt each Eeverse that from Fortune can flow, That I've tasted eaeh Bliss which the Happiest know, Has still been the whimsical Fate of my Life, Where Anguish and Joy have been ever at strife. But though vers'd in th' extremes both of Pleasure and Pain, I am still but too ready to feel them again. If then for this once in my Life I am free, And escape from a Snare might catch wiser than me, 'Tis that Beauty alone but imperfectly charms, For though Brightness may dazzle, 'tis Kindness that warms. As on Suns in the Winter with Pleasure we gaze, But feel not their force, though their Splendour we praise; So Beauty our just Admiration may claim, But Love, and Love only, our Hearts can inflame. As I design to be very temperate in writing to you, you would not receive so sudden a return to yours, were it not to send you the foregoing verses, which, though current, are not yet got into the papers or magazines. I think you wUl like the ease and frankness of the lines, though they are not poetic: in that light, and as characteristic, they are pretty original — so they are for being love-verses without love; the author's reason for not having which is the worst part ; and if poetry was peremptory logic, the in ference would be that you must be in love with a woman before you can desire her : at least she must be in love with you, which I take to be seldom the case. I am to have a longer copy of verses by Fitzpatrick *, which I expect to like much, since he writes as easUy as his friend, and is a more genuine poet. Lord Carlisle has written some too, to his wife's sister, Lady Louisa Leveson 3 : 3 Dorinda, a Town Eclogue, printed ' Lady Louisa Leveson-Gower, at Strawberry Hill, as were Fox's daughter of second Earl Gower verses. (afterwards Marquis of Stafford) ; 202 To the Bev. WiUiam Mason [1775 I shall have them too, as a noble author's — but I have seen them and they are not worth sending; no more than some by Lord Palmerston, occasioned by others written some time ago by the Duchess of Devonshire when a girl to her father. These are a greater rarity, and I am laying out for them. Thank my stars I have done both with authorship and noble authors, for my Lord Lyttelton has printed a speech, though I thought we should not have had his till his execution. It is a poor affair, void of argu ment and grossly abusive on Lord Camden. It wUl be as difficult for the court to uphold his oratory as his character, if he has recourse to the press. Burke has printed a second speech *, which I prefer much to his first. It is grave, solid, temperate, and chaster from exuberant imagination. If his fancy breaks out, it does not soar above the third heaven and come tumbling down flat. Apropos to authors, the husband6 of Mrs. Montagu of Shakespeareshire is dead, and has left her an estate of seven thousand pounds a year in her own power. Will you come and be a candidate for her hand ? I conclude it will be given to a champion at some Olympic games, and were I she, I would sooner marry you than Pindar. The history of the heroine Kingston, as registered in our daily chronicles, is literally authentic, and so is the respect paid to her in the King's Bench, though, I suppose, penned by herself, For little Brimstones oft submit to fate, That great ones may enjoy the world in state. The intrepidity of her countenance, while her indictment was being read, was worthy of Joan of Arc. I am per suaded she will avoid any further trial. m. (1777) Sir Archibald Macdonald, 4 On Conciliation with America. . afterwards Chief Baron of the Ex- 6 Edward Montagu, grandson of chequer. first Earl of Sandwich. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 203 Thank you for your Oxonian anecdotes, but alas! they may be paralleled all over the kingdom. In return I will write next week to France for the two tracts 6 you wot of: you shaU not be idle for want of anything I can pimp for. I am happily embarked on two vast folios of the History of Dorsetshire, which I prefer to every author of the age but one. I have picked up some excellent narratives of Mr. Bruce, but have not room for them '; but here is what is better. He was asked before George Selwyn if the Abyssinians have any music? he replied, 'They have one lyre? Selwyn whispered his neighbour, 'They have one less since he left their country.' Adieu ! I remove to Strawberry to-morrow. Yours ever, H.W. 1621. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, June 5, 1775. I am delighted in your satisfaction with your nephew ; and now begin to fear the pain you will have in parting with him and his amiable family. The Emperor's pre sence wUl not compensate the loss, for you feel more in your private capacity than your public, though you are so excellent a diplomatique. You must lower your royal crest a little, for your Majesty's forces have received a check in America ; but this is too sad a subject for mirth. I cannot tell you anything very positively: the ministers, nay the orthodox Gazette, holds its tongue. This day se'nnight it was divulged by a London Evening Post extraordinary, that a ship on its way to Lisbon happened to caU at Eng land, and left some very wonderful accounts, nay, and affidavits, saying, to wit, that General Gage had sent nine « Watelet's Essay on Gardening, and Chabanon's Sur la Manie des Jardins Anglais. 204 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 hundred men to nail up the cannon and seize a magazine at Concord J ; of which the accidental captain owns, two cannon were spiked or damaged. An hundred and fifty Americans, who swear they were fired on first, disliked the proceeding, returned blows, and drove back the party. Lord Percy was dispatched to support them, but new re cruits arriving, his Lordship sent for better advice, which he received, as it was, to retire, which he did. The King's troops lost an hundred and fifty, the enemy not an hundred. The captain was sent for to be examined, but refused. He says Gage sent away a sloop four days before he sailed, which sloop, I suppose, is gone to Lisbon, for in eight days no news of it. The public were desired by authority to suspend their belief; but their patience is out, and they persist in beUeving the first account, which seems the rather probable, in that another account is come of the mob having risen at New York, between anger and triumph, and have seized, unloaded, and destroyed the cargoes of two ships that were going with supplies to Gage; and, by all accounts, that whole continent is in a flame. So here is this fatal war commenced ! The chUd that is unborn shaU rue The hunting of that day! We are perfectly easy about Spain's armada, and say that too is bound for Lisbon. The Prince of Masserano is arrived, and no doubt condemns our rebellious colonists highly. Those gentlemen do not seem to be at all afraid of your question, whether they could not be sent for over, and tried. A colonel of their militia has sworn before a justice of peace that he ordered his men to fire on the Bang's troops, Lettee 1621. — x The skirmish at tween the regular troops and the Lexington on April 19, 1775, the Americans. first fighting which took place be- 1775] To the Bev. William Cole 205 and has sent over a copy of his affidavit — perhaps in hopes of being knighted. Well, we don't mind aU this — we the nation. We go on diverting ourselves, and are to have a regatta on the Thames the end of this month. The French are grown philosophes, and we dance. Tell your sorrowful friend Mrs. Pitt, and the afflicted widow, that English ladies cry no longer. Low spirits are out of fashion. We have transplanted every foUy under the heavens hither. We have had fandangos, and festinos, and regattas. If the Americans provoke us, we wiU sail forth in our Bucentaur and cuckold them with their spouse the Atlantic. This is a gazette extraordinary, so need not be long ; besides, I have been here these four days aU alone, and know nothing but what the newspapers tell me. If it was Hot for you, I should not know there was such a person in the world as the Emperor. Our neighbour King Louis is gone to be crowned. He was besieged for three days in Versailles by twenty thousand men, and in danger of Lord Peterborough's 2 sacre, who, when he was shown the Sainte Ampoule at Eheims, and the monk asked him, ' Monsieur, est-ce que vous sacrez vos Eois ? ' rephed, ' Non, Monsieur, nous les massacrons.' Insurrections in France! insurrec tions in Bohemia ! insurrections in America ! methinks the world is subject to centenary fevers ! Adieu ! the HoratU ! I quite enjoy your mutual satisfaction in each other. 1622. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, June 5, 1775. I am extremely concerned, dear Sir, to hear you have been so long confined by the gout. The painting of your house may, from the damp, have given you cold— I don't s Charles Mordaunt, Earl of Peterborough, celebrated by Pope. Walpole. 206 To the Bev. William Cole [1775 conceive that paint can affect one otherwise, if it does not make one sick, as it does me of all things. Dr. Heberden, as eveiy physician, to make himself talked of, wUl set up some new hypothesis, pretends that a damp house, and even damp sheets, which have ever been reckoned fatal, are wholesome ; to prove his faith he went into his own new house totally unaired, and survived it. At Malvern they certainly put patients into sheets just dipped in the spring — however, I am glad you have a better proof that dampness is not mortal : and it is better to be too cautious than too rash. I am perfectly well and expect to be so for a year and a half — I desire no more of the bootikins than to curtail my fits. Thank you for the note from North's life, though, having reprinted my Painters, I shall never have an opportunity of using it. I am still more obliged to you for the offer of an index to my Catalogue — but, as I myself know exactly where to find everything in it, and as I dare to say nobody else will want it, I shall certainly not put you to that trouble. Dr. Glynn will certainly be most welcome to see my house, and shall, if I am not at home. Still I had rather know a few days before, because else he may happen^ to come when I have company, as I have often at this time of the year, and then it is impossible to let it be seen, as I cannot ask my company, who may have come to see it too, to go out, that somebody else may see it, and I should be very sorry to have the Doctor disappointed. These difficulties, which have happened more than once, have obliged me to give every ticket for a particular day ; there fore, if Dr. Glynn wUl be so good as to advertise me of the day he intends to come here, with a direction, I wiU send him word what day he can see it. I have just run through the two vast fohos of Hutchins's 1775] To the Bev. William Cole 207 Dorsetshire. He has taken infinite pains; indeed, all but those that would make it entertaining. Pray can you tell me anything of some relations of my own, the Burwells? My grandfather married Sir Jeffery BurweU's daughter, of Eougham in Suffolk. Sir Jeffery's mother, I imagine, was daughter of a Jeffery Pitman, of Suffolk ; at least I know there was such a man as the latter, and that we quarter the arms of Pitman. But I cannot find who Lady Burwell •, Sir Jeffery's wife, was. Edmondson has searched in vain in the Heralds' Office, and I have outlived all the ancient of my family so long, that I know not of whom to inquire, but you of the neighbourhood. There is an old walk in the park at Houghton, called Sir Jeffery's Walk, where the old gentle man used to teach my father, Sir Eobert, his book. Those very old trees encouraged my father to plant at Houghton, when people used to try to persuade him nothing would grow there. He said, 'Why will not other trees grow as well as those in Sir Jeffery's Walk?' Other trees have grown to some purpose! Did I ever teU you that my father was descended from Lord Burleigh? The latter's grand-daughter, by his son Exeter, married Sir GUes AUington, whose daughter married Sir Eobert Crane, father of Sir Edward Walpole's wife. I want but Lady BurweU's name to make my genealogic tree shoot out stems every way. I have recovered a barony in fee, which has no defect but in being antecedent to any summons to Parliament, that of the Fitz Osberts ; and on my mother's side it has mounted the Lord knows whither, by the Philipps's to Henry VIII, and has sucked in Dryden for a great-uncle ; and by Lady Philipps's mother, Darcy, to Edward III, Lettek 1622. — ' She was the daughter of Thomas Derehaugh, of Colston HaU, Suffolk. 208 To the Bev. William Mason [ms and there I stop, for brevity's sake — especiaUy as Edward III is a second Adam ; who almost is not descended from Edward ? as posterity wUl be from Charles II and aU the princes in Europe from James I. I am the first antiquary of my race — people don't know how entertaining a study it is. Who begot whom is a most amusing kind of hunt ing ; one recovers a grandfather instead of breaking one's own neck — and then one grows so pious to the memory of a thousand persons one never heard of before. One finds how Christian names came into a fannly, with a world of other delectable erudition. You cannot imagine how vexed I was that Blomfield2 died before he arrived at Houghton — I had promised myself a whole crop of notable ancestors — but I think I have pretty weU unkenneUed them. myself. Adieu ! dear Sir. Yours ever, H. W. P.S. I found a family of Whaplode in Lincolnshire who give our arms, and have persuaded myself that Whaplode is a corruption of Walpole, and came from a branch when we Uved at Walpole in Lincolnshire. 1623. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, June 12. I becommend this with your two tracts on gardening x to Mr. Fraser; you see I hasten to send you straw, that your brick-kUn may blaze. I shall send you soon Fitz- patrick's Town Eclogue, from my own furnace. The verses are charmingly smooth and easy, but I am much mistaken a Rev. Francis Blomefield (1705- amongst letters of 1774. (See Notes 1752), who died before he had com- and Queries, Oct. 9, 1897.) pleted his History of Norfolk. 1 See note on letter to Mason of Lettee 1623.— Misplaced by C. May 27, 1775. 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 209 if you like them so well as Charles Fox's, as the former have certainly no novelty to recommend them, though there is one line about squeezing* that is deUghtful. The Manie des Jardins Anglois is very sUly, and unpoetic even for French verse. T'other author3 has stolen aU his ideas from us, and is ungrateful, is very French too, absurd and superficial, meaning to be phUosophic ; has no idea of situation, but thinks it can be made; and in reahty does not conceive helping or improving nature, but would make puppet-shows for different ranks. He puts me in mind of one of his countrymen, who seeing some of ours hang up their hats on a row of pegs at a tavern, said, ' On voit bien que c'est une nation qui pense.' I think they are ten times more foolish since they took to thinking. By the waters of Babylon we sit down and weep, when we think of thee, 0 America ! Tribulation on tribulation ! Since Gage's defeat, eighteen, some say twenty-eight thousand men have invested Boston ; ten thousand more are on their march from Ehode Island. Two ships laden with provisions for him have been destroyed at New York, and all his Majesty's friends turned out thence. Nous ne scavons plus a quel saint nous vouer. The City says there must be a pacification and a change of actors. Much good may it do those who wUl read their parts! Old Garrick* perhaps wfll return to the stage, because he has no time to lose : — however, the manager's company 6 talks of a troop of Hessians, &c. I have got another noble author, Lord Mahon. He writes on the gold coin; if he can make gold as well as coin, he wUl be of great use to his father-in-law Garrick, and a very good prop to his administration. Your old a ' And oh ! what bliss, when each alike is pleased, The hand that squeezes, and the hand that's squeezed.' s A M. Watelet. 4 Lord Chatham. 5 The Ministry. WALPOLE. IX P 210 To Viscount Nuneham [1775 Pollio 6 is returned very lean and very deaf. Considering all things, methinks you might now hold a lodge, Mr. Mason. Adieu ! P.S. Here is the Eclogue. 1624. To Viscount Nuneham. Strawberry Hill, June 14, 1775. Having: been absent hence a few days, I have but just now received your Lordship's most kind note with the direction, or should certainly have thanked you sooner, as I do most gratefully. I shaU as gladly obey your commands before you go to Ireland, and wiU take the liberty of writing to know if my visit wUl not be unseason able. I am exceedingly concerned to hear of Lady Nuneham's loss \ and when it is proper wUl entreat your Lordship to say how very much I interest myseU in whatever touches her Ladyship. Mr. Fitzpatrick has written a Town Eclogue, and has let me print it. The subject is not new, but as the versifica tion is very good, I thought it might divert a melancholy quarter of an hour at Nuneham, and therefore enclose. I know it is not just the moment for mentioning it, or I would say how very preferably my press might be em ployed, if I could have my earnest wish. How sincerely do I say what is reduced to a common ceremony, that I am with the greatest regard your Lordship's, &c. 6 Lord Holdernesse. sister, Hon. Catherine Vernon, third Lettee 1624. — J The death of her daughter of first Baron Vernon, 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 211 1625. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Friday night, 11 o'clock, June 28, 1775. You was much in the right indeed, Madam, not to come to town for the foolish regatta, as I did, and of which I have seen no more than I do now. I went at six o'clock to Eichmond House, and it was beautiful to see the Thames covered with boats, barges, and streamers, and every window and house-top loaded with spectators. I suppose so many wiU not meet again tiU the Day of Judgement, which was not to-day. In the middle of the river was a street of Ughters and barges covered with pent-houses like a carpenter's yard, which totaUy prevented all the other millions seeing any thing. The rowers passed through this street, and so we never beheld them at all. It rained once or twice and cleared the gardens and shores, and now all the company is stewing in Eanelagh. A great deal of the show was spoilt by everybody being in black ; it looked like a general mourning for Amphitrite, rather than for the Queen of Denmark. The corps diplomatique was in the Lord Mayor's barge. There are such tides of people in the streets, that I could scarce pass home. I feel as glad to be returned as I did from the Coronation, and I think wiU go to no more sights. I know nothing more to tell your Ladyship. The town says it expects an embassy to Lord Chatham. I will not come to see his entry, for I have stUl less curiosity about ministers than puppet-shows. In truth I grow so old or so indolent, or so both, that I prefer the tranquillity of Strawberry to almost everything. But I wiU not tire your Ladyship with my own negativeness. I write only to prove what I hope is not necessary, how constantly you are p 2 212 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 in my mind, and that I would teU you anything amusing if I knew it. 1626. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, July 6, 1775. A month is elapsed since I wrote to you, I know ; nor am I eager to resume the correspondence, when I have nothing pleasant to tell you. Indeed, can the events of a civil war ever be welcome news? One must be deeply embarked on one side or the other, if one ever rejoices. They who wish well to the whole can have but one cheerful moment, which is that of peace — a moment that seems at great distance ! I know no details, for I inquire not after them. The general complexion is war. AU advices speak the Americans determined, and report says the Government here intends to pursue the same plan. I told you at first I thought you and I should not see the end of this breach ; and if we do not, I know what posterity will see, the ruin of both countries, at least of this. Can we support the loss of America, or a long war? There is a black cloud nearer. The Livery of London have begun a quarrel with the King, and have actually proclaimed war on his ministers, as you wUl see by the papers. I do not take panic; but, if any blow should happen from America, the mob of London is a formidable foe on a sudden : a minister may be executed before he is impeached ; and, considering the number of American merchants in the City, and of those who have connections in America, riots may be raised : but I hate to prophesy. I have always augured ill of this quarrel, and washed my hands of it. It has made me resume a thought, which my age and indolence do not incline me to, another journey to Paris. You wiU, perhaps, hear I am setting out before 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 213 my usual period of writing. There is another person1 going abroad that rejoices me more, and who, I am sure, had better be out of England at this crisis. He is extremely well at present, yet certainly should not risk the winter here; he proposes to pass the next at Eome. I should Uke myself to spend it at Paris, but dare not hazard the gout out of my own house, unless things grow still more serious. I have long been sick of politics ; when they are so very grave, they are painful; and though I have nothing to do with them, the Ul-humour they occasion, and the perpetual -discourse on them, are exceedingly disagreeable to one whose whole wishes are centred in repose. I am come this morning from Lord Dacre's 2, where I lay last night, and return to my peaceful hUl to-morrow. I will not read history there, but romances ; and if "the present age is determined the former shall be written in bloody characters, I wiU read as little of it as I can. During the first part of my Ufe all was peace and happiness. The middle was a scene of triumph. I am sorry to think the last volume so likely to resemble a considerable part of our story. Who can wish to have lived during the wars of York and Lancaster ; or from 1641 to 1660 ? 1627. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, July 7, 1775. It is strange to say, Madam, that I who generaUy know my own mind as soon as I have a mind, and who am a very methodical general, have not yet settled the plan of my operations for my summer campaign. One of my expeditions wiU certainly be to AmpthUl; but I cannot precisely say Letter 1626. — ' The Duke of Gloucester. 2 Belhus, in Essex. 214 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 a when, as I have not fixed the day when my squadron is to sail for the coast of France, which is to be the great coup of my measures. I do not stay to join or to watch the Spanish Armada, nor wait for the result of the American Congress ; but a little business of my own throws uncertainty into aU my deliberations, and is so little a business, that, Uke greater men, I am forced to disguise the true cause, and give it dignity by a veil of mystery. I have indeed already taken the field, for I came yesterday from Lord Dacre's, in Essex, where I stayed but one night, and am returning to my head quarters. I found nobody and heard nothing here, but a new rebuff given us by the Americans — I wUl not tell you where, because geography is not my forte, nor circum stances my talent; but they have burnt a schooner, and driven General Gage's devils out of a herd of swine, who ran violently into the sea, and lo! is not the place called Hog Island1 to this day? Pray, Madam, have you read the Correspondents^ I never heard of the book till two days ago. I think one cannot doubt the letters being genuine ; but who has been so cruel as to publish them ? and yet, except a Uttle weakness, and it is very little to have but a Uttle, there is nothing that can reflect but on the publishers. Methinks, when it is scandalous to open a private letter, they who publish private letters stand in a very foul predicament, while the authors are living and may be hurt by them. Do not the pubhshers accuse themselves of robbing or treachery ? and by conceal ing themselves of a very black design? The publication in question comprehends many of these offences, for it appears by the letters that the authors were much afraid of their being seen, though more goodness of heart appears than Letter 1627 — ' The skirmish at 1775, Horace Walpole seems to hint Hogg's Island took place in May. at Lord Lyttelton and his daughter- * In his letter to Mason of July 10, in-law as the writers of the letters. 1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 215 anything else. Merciful! if aU the foolish things one writes in confidence were to be recorded ! For my part I never care how sUly I am in my letters, as I trust nonsense carries its own mortality along with it. At least if one is supposed to have common sense, one may trust, as Sir Godfrey Kneller did about his wretched daubings, that people will say, ' Oh, to be sure these could not be his.' I am not averse to preaching a Uttle on this subject, my Lady, because — but somebody knocks. Good morrow, Madam. 1628. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, July 9, 1775. The whole business of this letter would lie in half a line. Shall you have room for me on Tuesday the 18th? I am putting myself into motion that I may go farther. I told Madame du Deffand how you had scolded me on her account, and she has charged me to thank you, and teU you how much she wishes to see you too. I would give anything to go — But the going ! — However, I really think I shall — But I grow terribly affected with a maladie de famUle, that of taking root at home. I did but put my head into London on Thursday, and more bad news from America. I wonder when it wUl be bad enough to make folks think it so, without going on! The stocks, indeed, begin to grow a Uttle nervous, and they are apt to affect other pulses. I heard this evening here that the Spanish fleet is sailed, and that we are not in the secret whither1 — but I don't answer for Twickenham gazettes, and I have no better. I have a great mind to tell you a Twickenham story; and yet it wiU be good for nothing, as I cannot send you the accent in a letter. Here it is, and you must try to set it to the right emphasis. One Letter 1628. — J The fleet sailed to attack Algiers. 216 To the Bev. William Mason [mk of our Maccaronis is dead, a Captain Mawhood, the tea-man's son. He had quitted the army, because his comrades caUed him Captain Hyson, and applied himself to learn the classics and freethinking; and was always disputing with the parson of the parish about Dido and his own soul. He married Miss Paulin's warehouse, who had six hundred a year ; but, being very much out of conceit with his own canister, could not reconcile himself to her riding-hood — so they parted beds in three nights. Of late he has taken to writing comedies, which everybody was welcome to hear him read, as he could get nobody to act them. Mrs. Mawhood has a friend, one Mrs. V , a mighty plausible good sort of body, who feels for everybody, and a good deal for herself, is of a certain age, wears weU, has some pretensions that she thinks very reasonable stUl, and a gouty husband. WeU! she was talking to Mr. Eaftor about Captain Mawhood a little before he died. 'Pray, Sir, does the Captain ever communicate his writings to Mrs. Mawhood?' — 'Oh dear, no, Madam; he has a sovereign contempt for her understanding.' — 'Poor woman!' — 'And pray, Sir, — give me leave to ask you: I think I have heard that they very seldom sleep together ?' — 'Oh, never, Madam! Don't you know all that?' — 'Poor woman ! ' — I don't know whether you will laugh ; but Mr. Eaftor, who tells a story better than anybody, made me laugh for two hours. Good night ! 1629. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, July 10, 1775. I have been so constantly here and know so little, that if I told you what I do know, it would be but a transcript of the newspapers. The general opinion is that the war is to be pursued: and so far we and the Americans agree that the news in the meadows (our Mall) last night was, that the 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 217 Congress has taken the same resolution ; and as they have not quite so far to send troops, will probably be a little more alert in putting their resolutions in execution. The Admiral, I was told, too, thinks he shall be desired to convey the garrison of Boston, not into the heart of the colonies, but home. I am amazed the Parliament does not meet and vote that this will be a breach of the Act of Navigation. The colonies are reaUy so cowardly, that they go on like the old song, beating those who never beat them in their Uves, and have driven away all the cattle from General Gage's Smithfield, and burnt a schooner that he sent to defend them. As the stocks have shown no sensi- bUity tiU now, I suppose some rich butcher has sold out. This is all I can teU you of politics. To your other question, I doubt I shall not see Yorkshire this summer. I am actually thinking of a tour to Paris; and if I do go, it wUl be before the end of August. Shall I bring you a slice of their Enghsh gardens? or a whole one second-hand? They may be out of fashion by this time, and the moment anything is, they sell it. Has a little book called the Correspondents strolled so far north? It is a singular publication, and an abominable one; at least I suspect the motive to be so. They are letters between a late grave noble author1 and his daughter-in-law, before she married his son : they are perfectly innocent, and very good and very wise; but the spirit was not always entirely uppermost. They seem to be genuine, but if they are, one must guess and abhor the publisher. Mrs. Wood publishes an Essay, which her husband2 showed me and I Uked, on Homer's country. My late brethren, the Antiquaries, have given a third volume, with some pretty plates of horns, and some trifling trinkets, Letter 1629. — J Perhaps Lord 2 Robert Wood, sometime Under Lyttelton. Secretary of State ; d. 1771. 218 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 dissertations on cock-fighting and shoeing horses, and half a volume on their print of the interview in the Vale of Cloth of Gold, and the room at Cowdry", in which I am censured for liking it only as a curiosity and not as a picture, though there is no more perspective or drawing than in an Indian screen. To stamp my doom, in the index is said, the Cowdry picture defended against Mr. W. — see what it is to try to teach owls to be singing-birds ! I was the first soul that ever endeavoured to introduce a little taste into English antiquities, and had persuaded the world not to laugh at our Hearnes and HoUingsheds, and the graceless loggerheads fly in my face ! but I have left them to themselves, and could not have left them in worse hands. This letter is only chaperon to a parcel that I must beg you to convey to Peckitt at York, and which I send open to save troubhng you with the purport (is not this an Iricism?): when you have read it or not, as you please, you wUl be so good as to seal it. July 12th. Since I began my letter two days ago, I have taken my resolution; and shaU set out on the 14th of next month, to be back in the beginning of October, by which time I suppose you will have frightened the Americans out of their senses, or the Americans the ministers into theirs. I have not yet seen the reviews for this month ; those of the last were exceedingly civU to you. One piece of service you have rendered me. The proprietor of the asterisk * on Lord Clarendon's History has certainly reconnoitred himself, 8 The frescoed room at Cowdray perished in the fire of 1793. was thus mentioned in the Anecdotes * Richard Owen Cambridge, whose of Painting : — ' Though the histories name is represented by two asterisks represented there, the habits and in Mason's Memoirs of Gray. His customs of the times, make that criticisms on Clarendon's Life (before room a singular curiosity, they are its publication) are mentioned in its only merit. There is nothing Gray's letter to Mason of July 23, good either in the designs, disposi- 1769. tion, or colouring.' The frescoes 1775] To Viscount Nuneham 219 for he has not caUed on me since the pubUcation, though very civil when we meet, yet never opening his mouth on that subject. I bear this misfortune with great philosophy, as I always do everything I do not care about. My Lord of Eochester" has consulted me for an altar-piece for the choir at Westminster. I have suggested an octagon canopy of open arches, like Chichester Cross, to be elevated on a flight of steps, with the altar in the middle, and semi circular arcades to join the stalls, so that the Confessor's chapel and tombs may be seen through in perspective. His Lordship, indeed, wanted to remove that whole chapel, but his Chapter luckily opposed. Here is the ground-plot of my idea : if you approve it you may draw the elevation as beautif uUy as you please. •••-^ 1630. To Viscount Nuneham. Strawberry Hill, July 18, 1775. I shall be at Park Place next week, my dear Lord, and if you assure me that I shall not be troublesome either to Lady Nuneham or yourself, I wUl have the honour of passing a night at Nuneham, and asking your commands to Paris, whither I am going next month, — with great satisfaction in one respect, the certainty of finding the Hotel d'Harcourt open next winter. I should be ashamed of such a trip at my age, if it was not to see an older person ; yet I shall not go incog, and call myself Dr. W?, but what I always am, &c. 6 John Thomas ; d. 1793. on a recent visit to Paris, had called Lettee 1630. — l Lord Mansfield, himself ' Dr. Murray.' 220 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [177s 1631. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry HiU, July 23, 1775. Lady, thou lettest not thy servant depart in peace ! but you must. My pen is truly grown a grey goose-quill, and has lost its pith. It never had much imagination, and what it had is gone. Indolence has taken total possession, and comprises my whole story. I have done nothing but bask in the sun, gather hampers of orange-flowers, and enjoy this celestial summer. I believe Joshua has bid the sun stand still, for there has not been a bad day since the first of December. I had rather impute my supineness to this Asiatic season than to the fifty-seven winters I have known ; but I must burst my chains and go to Paris, which I doubt I shall not find a fontaine de jouvence. I have dined at MusweU Hill, and the next day the Beau clerks, Miss Lloyd and I, went to Old Windsor to see poor Mr. Bateman's auction. It was a melancholy sight to me in more lights than one. I have passed many pleasing days there with him and Lady Hervey, and felt additional pain by reflections on my chUd Strawberry ! All pulled to pieces, and sold by the person he loved and left it to ! So was poor Lady Hervey treated ! I bought her picture there, left for sale. Indeed, Lord Bateman made amends, for he left his own and his house's portraits there too for sale, with a lot of shalots, four acres of beans, and a parcel of human bones! This is a golden age UteraUy, and one should not wonder if the people sold their chUdren as the negroes do. I purchased a cargo of ancient chairs1, and they at least have found a resting-place in their old age. The Beauclerks and the Virgin returned and passed two days Letter 1631. — 1 'Eight very placed in the Great Cloister at ancient Welsh chairs;' they were Strawberry Hill. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 221 here. On Wednesday I go to Park Place and Nuneham ; but I perceive I shall lose my place of gazetteer to your Ladyship. Perhaps you will think I am going to have a better, when I tell you an excellent story and quote my author, Lord North. Mr. Cambridge, with all his propensity to credit new-imported marvels, was struck with hearing Mr. Bruce affirm having sent some camels to Abyssinia, and suspended his faith till the fact could be examined. He galloped2 to Soame Jenyns, and begged to have the registers of exportation in the Board of Trade searched. After some days, Jenyns wrote to tell him that he had scrutinized aU the records relating to Philadelphia, Carolina, Virginia, &c, &c, and did indeed find a prodigious number of the species in question had gone to aU those provinces, but that they did not spell their names like the camels he wotted of. Well, Madam, if I have moulted my activity, at least my obedience remains in full feather. You say you have written and sealed your justification of yourself and your opinion of the Correspondents, but I am sure I have received no such letter. I will say no more on mine; I have no affectation about them ; you see I answer the moment I receive yours, and the nonsense in waiting always serves to fill them. If they are preserved, they wiU prove that I took no care of my reputation, and that your Ladyship had not the best taste in the world in being content with such letters. One comfort the worst writers may have, that, if their follies are handed down, the devU will be in it if any mortal can read a hundred-thousandth part of what is written; and it signifies little whether such things are burnt or slumber on the shelves of a hbrary. 1 Cambridge habitually rode fast. 222 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 1632. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 3, 1775. I can tell your Ladyship nothing about the Correspondents but what I don't know, which is what people generally tell. I did believe the letters genuine, and that they passed between the old Lord and his daughter-in-law before she was so. Now it seems the executors deny their authenticity, so I do not believe it any longer, because anybody is at least better authority than everybody ; for one person may speak truth, which all the world rarely does. I know still less of Lady Luxborough's x Letters, but expect to be diverted, I remember her wearing her little wizen husband's picture in her great black bush of hair ; then she fell in love with Parson Dalton 2 for his poetry, and they rhymed together tUl they chimed ; and then I never saw or heard of her any more, tUl she revived in Mr. Shenstone's Letters, and was a great performer in his baUad Arcadia. I think these materials promise, considering too that the heroine was sister both of Lord Bolingbroke and Hollis St. John3. I expect a mixture of Mrs. Eliza Thomas 4, Machiavel, and Shuter. I certainly did not send you, Madam, Lady Craven's verses, nor intend it, though they are extremely pretty. She did not give me leave, and without it you know I would not. Nay, I don't think I should even with her permission, Letter 1632. — 1 Hon. Henrietta John ; d. 1738. St. John (d. 1756), daughter of first * Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas (1677- Viscount St. John ; m. (1 727) Robert 1731), known as ' Corinna,' a writer Knight, cr. (Aug. 8, 1745) Baron Lux- of poetry, and correspondent of borough, of Shandon in Ireland ; cr. Dryden. After endeavouring to Earl of Catherlough in 1763. make a livelihood in a questionable 2 Rev. John Dalton (1709-1763), manner, she was thrown into the poet ; he adapted Comus for the Fleet Prison, and died, though not actually in prison, in great poverty. 8 Fourth son of first Viscount St, 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 223 for she makes an Apollo of me, and, if the eight other Muses called me so too, I would not accept the title without any pretensions. Tuesday se'nnight is fixed for my voyage. I doubt it wUl not be in my power to see AmpthUl tUl my return. I am in great distress, with a near relation dying in my house. You have heard me mention Mrs. Daye6: they have let her come from Chichester in the last stage of an asthma and dropsy. I can neither leave her here with only servants, nor know how to convey her back ; but I will not disturb your happiness with melancholy stories, Madam. For poUtical mishaps, they are very endurable. One loves one's country, but then one takes no more part than comes to the share of an individual ; besides, when one has lived a good whUe, events strike one the less. I have seen my country's barometer up at Minden and down at Derby; I have worn laurels and crackers, and sackcloth and ashes. At last I am grown like sauntering Jack, and bear revolu tions with much phUosophy : — My billet at the fire is found, Whoever is depos'd or crown'd ; but I go no farther ; one has griefs enough of one's own, without fretting because Cousin America has eloped with a Presbyterian parson. I have crammed my cloister with three cart-loads of lumbering chairs from Mr. Bateman's, and at last am surfeited with the immovable movables of our forefathers. Thank you for advising me, Madam, not to trust to anybody's love. In good truth I am cured of that as well as of other delusions, and so will Mr. Crawfurd be if he lives as long. I hope he will meet me at Paris. I seldom ask him to come hither, because I cannot amuse him, and 6 Mrs. Day or Daye was a natural daughter of Sir Robert Walpole ; she died in Oot. 1775. 224 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 because he would only disappoint me if he promised to come. There are few I have a better opinion of, or have more good wUl to, and he is sure he is welcome whenever he hkes to come ; but I care so Uttle about the present age, which is all he can care about, that I conclude young people can only be civil and weary of me, and therefore never press myself upon them. When I return from Paris I shall have some novelty, and you shall see me as modernized as possible. If Marshal Eichelieu has a casque of pink and sable plumes, I wiU have one too. I will learn to sing the freshest couplets, and will be as accurate as Lady Mary Coke in all the ceremonial of Madame ClotUde's espousals6, though I fear the good old form of her going to bed with the ambassador's leg is out of fashion, though a Christian nudity of exceUent edification. Well, now we are talking of weddings, &c, I shall take the liberty of transcribing the foUowing Unes, which Lord Huntingdon found on the window of an inn, and gave to Mr. Conway. Some tender swain had written very illegibly his fair one's name in this usual aubergieal exclamation : — Adorable Miss Priscilla Plaw! Another unfeehng savage wrote under T, I found Lady Jersey at Nuneham, with a pretty Uttle girl, who will be the picture of her father as soon as she cuts her nose, and is bigger already. There was Mr. Whitehead8, the Laureate, too, who, I doubt, wUl be a little puzzled, if he has no better a victory than the last against Caesar's next birthday. There was a Uttle too much of the vertere 6 To the Prince of Piedmont. letters to Lady Ossory, as too coarse 7 The lines were considered by to be printed. Lord Lyveden, the editor of the » William Whitehead (1715-1785). 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 225 Juneribus triwmphos for a complimentary ode in the last action. I hear that the Congress have named General Washington Generalissimo, with two thousand a year and five pounds a day for his table ; he desired to be excused receiving the two thousand. If these folks wiU imitate both the Eomans and CromwelUans in self-denial and enthusiasm, we shall be horridly plagued with them. Colonel Lee 9 is the third on the staff; I forget the second's name. They say all the regiments in Ireland are going to Boston, and fifty thou sand Hanoverians coming to guard Ireland — c'est un furieux remue-minage ; but I don't understand these things, and wish your Ladyship good night. 1633. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 3, 1775. In spite of aU my modesty, I cannot help thinking I have a little something of the prophet about me. At least we have not conquered America yet. I did not send you immediate word of our victory at Boston1, because the success not only seemed very equivocal, but because the conquerors lost three to one more than the vanquished. The last do not pique themselves upon modern good breed ing, but level only at the officers, of whom they have slain a vast number. We are a little disappointed, indeed, at their fighting at aU, which was not in our calculation. We knew we could conquer America in Germany, and I doubt had better have gone thither now for that purpose, as it does not appear hitherto to be quite so feasible in America itself. However, we are determined to know the 9 Colonel (afterwards Major- command in the American army iu General) Charles Lee (173H782). June 1775. He served in the English army, Lettee 1633. — 1 The battle of 1746-74. He was appointed to a Bunker's Hill, on June 17, 1775. walpole. ix Q 226 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 worst, and are sending away all the men and ammunition we can muster. The Congress, not asleep neither, have appointed a Generalissimo, Washington, allowed a very able officer, who distinguished himself in the last war. Well ! we had better have gone on robbing the Indies ; it was a more lucrative trade. We are in no pain about the Spanish fleet. Our papers say it has its hands full at Algiers, or Tunis, I forget which. There are so many people who take care of the geography of a war, that I never trouble my head about it. At present I am thinking of nothing but my journey to Paris, whither I am bound on the 15th. It is a little late I own for such a trip, and I did not think I should have so much resolution again ; but my dear old bhnd woman 2 has begged it, and I cannot refuse, though I feel how" terrible the parting will be, since I cannot expect to see her again. She is almost seventy-nine ! In fact, her lamp burns as brightly as ever ; but I am sure mine grows dim, and my spirits scarce serve To rock the cradle of reposing age ! Your brother has recovered his activity so far as to go to Linton, where he has not been these four years. Your friend, the Duchess of Beaufort 3, has already found a great and proper party for Lady Mary 4 ; Lord Granby 5 has proposed, and you may be sure was not rebuffed. We have no other news but the American, which keeps our summer in full talk. Every day proclaims something, but so many lies, that I always wait for the echo; and advise you to do so too, or you will have many abortive beliefs. s Madame la Marquise du Deffand. * Lady Mary Somerset. Walpole. B Grandson and successor of John 3 Widow of Lord Noel Somerset, Manners, Duke of Rutland. Walpole. Duke of Beaufort. Walpole, 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 227 The heroine Kingston is almost forgotten. Foote had a mind to have revived her story on the stage ; but Lord Hertford would not license his piece '. It is still thought she wUl be tried and convicted, but her Countess-hood wiU save her Duchess-hood from being burnt in its hand. Adieu ! 1634. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 7, 1775. Let me tell you you have no more taste than Dr. Kenrick ', if you do not like Madame de Sevigne's Letters. Bead them again ; they are one of the very few books, that, like Gray's Life, improve upon one every time one reads them. You have stUl less taste, if you like my letters, which have nothing original, and if they have anything good so much the worse, for it can only be from having read her letters and his. He came perfect out of the egg-sheU, and wrote as well at eighteen as ever he did ; nay, letters better, for his natural humour was in its bloom, and not wrinkled by low spirits, dissatisfaction, or the character he had assumed. I do not care a straw whether Dr. Kenrick and Scotland can persuade England that he was no poet. There is no common sense left in this country : — With Arts and Sciences it travelled West. The Americans will admire him and you, and they are the only people by whom one would wish to be admired. The world is divided into two nations — men of sense that will be free, and fools that like to be slaves. What a figure do two great empires make at this moment ! Spain, mistress of Peru and Mexico, amazes Europe with an invincible 6 It was called A Trip to Calais, LL.D. (d. 1779), who had written and was acted afterwards, but much slightingly of Gray's poetry in the altered. Walpole. London Beview. Letter 1634. — x William Kenrick, Q, 2 228 To the Bev. William Mason [1775 armada ; at last it sails to Algiers, and disbarks its whole contents, even to the provisions of the fleet. It is beaten shamefully, loses aU its stores, and has scarce bread left to last till it gets back into its own ports ! Mrs. Britannia orders her senate to proclaim America a continent of cowards, and vote it should be starved unless it will drink tea with her. She sends her only army to be besieged in one of their towns, and half her fleet to besiege the terra firma; but orders her army to do nothing, in hopes that the American senate at Philadelphia will be so frightened at the British army being besieged in Boston, that it wUl sue for peace. At last she gives her army leave to sally out, but being twice defeated, she determines to carry on the war so vigorously tUl she has not a man left, that all England wUl be satisfied with the total loss of America ; and if everybody is satisfied, who can be blamed ? Besides, is not our dignity maintained ? have not we carried our majesty beyond all example ? When did you ever read before of a besieged army threatening military execution on the country of the besiegers ! car tel est notre plaisir! But, alack! we are like the mock doctor; we have made the heart and the liver change sides; cela etoit autrefois ainsi, mais nous avons change tout cela ! I wUl certainly visit Monsr. Watelet's garden that he has curled and powdered a Vangloise. I shaU Uke to be amused with less serious folUes than our own, though I doubt I shaU find they laugh a Uttle more at us than we can at them. Well ! I wUl wrap myseU up in my Bobinhood ! They cannot say the good old man my father did it. Have you heard the history of Foote and her Grace of Kingston? She applied to the Lord Chamberlain, and prevented the piece being licensed, though Foote had an audience, and with his usual modesty assured her he had not had her Grace in view. The dame, as if he had been a member of 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 229 ParUament, offered to buy him off. Aristophanes's Grecian virtue was not to be corrupted ; but he offered to read the piece, and blot out whatever passages she would mark, that she thought applicable to her case. She was too cunning to bite at this ; and they parted. He swears he will not only print his comedy, but act her in Lady Brumpton. He has already printed his letter to Lord Hertford, and not content with that, being asked why it was not licensed, replied, ' Why, my Lord Hertford desired me to make his youngest son a box-keeper, and because I would not, he stopped my play.' Upon my word, if the stage and the press are not checked, we shall have the army, on its return from Boston, besieged in the Haymarket itself. What are we come to, if Maids of Honour cannot marry two husbands in quiet ? Well, General Gage is recalled, and is to be hanged. We had conquered America by this time, they say, if he had not betrayed us, and desired the provincials to block him up ; so en attendant Hancock 2 and Adams 3, and Putnam * and Washington, you may divert yourselves with executing your own General. Voltaire wiU abuse you, as he did about poor Byng ; but really a government must condemn some body, or the mob — but I am going to Paris, and leave you to your own devices. Don't finish your essay on gardening tUl I bring you the newest improvements from the Opera, where to be sure the Elysian fields will be laid out naturally. If anything strikes me particularly, you shall hear from me, but as my stay will be short, I don't promise, for I have been so often at Paris, that my staring is extremely emouss6, a John Hancock (d. 1793), Presi- Ambassador from the United States dent of the Congress of Massachu- to Great Britain, 1785-87; President setts in 1774. ofthe United States, 1797-1801. 3 John Adams (1735-1826), Repre- * Major-General Israel Putnam sentative of Massachusetts in the (1718-1790), commanding under Congress of 1774 ; Commissioner to Washington. He was prominent in the court of France, 1778; first the battle of Bunker's Hill. 230 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1775 and one must travel to Abyssinia, to find anything very new. Adieu ! Yours entirely, H. W. 1635. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 9, 1775. Well ! I am going tout de bon, and heartUy wish I was returned. It is a horrid exchange, the cleanness and verdure and tranquUlity of Strawberry, for a beastly ship, worse inns, the pave of the roads bordered with eternal rows of maimed trees, and the racket of an hotel garnil I never dote on the months of August and September, enlivened by nothing but Lady Greenwich's speaking-trumpet — but I do not want to be amused — at least never at the expense of being put in motion. Madame du Deffand, I am sure, may be satisfied with the sacrifice I make to her ! You have heard, to be sure, of the war between your brother and Foote ; but probably not how far the latter has carried his impudence. Being asked why Lord Hertford had refused to license his piece, he replied, ' Why, he asked me to make his youngest son a box-keeper, and because I would not, he stopped my play.' The Duchess of King ston offered to buy it off, but Foote would not take her money, and swears he will act her in Lady Brumpton; which to be sure is very apphcable. I am sorry to hear Lord Villiers is going to drag my Lady through all the vUe inns in Germany. I think he might go alone. George Onslow told me yesterday, that the American Congress had sent terms of accommodation, and that your brother told him so ; but a strange fatality attends George's news, which is rarely canonical ; and I doubt this intelli- 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 231 gence is far from being so. I shall know more to-morrow, when I go to town to prepare for my journey on Tuesday. Pray let me hear from you, enclosed to M. Panchaud. I accept with great joy Lady Aylesbury's offer of coming hither in October, which wUl increase my joy in being at home again. I intend to set out on my return the 25th of next month. Sir Gregory Page1 has left Lord Howe eight thousand pounds at present, and twelve more after his aunt Mrs. Page's death. Tuesday, 10th. I cannot find any grounds for believing that any pro posals are come from the Congress. On the contrary, everything looks as melancholy as possible. Adieu ! 1636. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 10, 1775. If I am become mysterious, Madam, I must be grown as old as Methusaleh, or by keeping bad company have con tracted habits of circumspection, which I always despised. Is it mystery not to notify royal pregnancies ? Consider how bourgeois it would be in me to talk of her Highness my niece ; there is the source of my reserve. Oh, but a babe of Brunswick to be born at Eome ! what an event ! very well, Madam, it will be time enough six months hence to talk of that. For my escape, and the valour of my servant, it is a mystery stiU to myself. I believe a man did intend to rob me one morning as I went to Hanworth, because when I ordered my footman to produce a blunder buss that was under the seat of the chaise, the feUow galloped off; but if David is intituled in any part in this Lsttee 1635. — l Sir Gregory Page, Kent. Mrs. Page was his sister-in- second Baronet, of Wricklemarsh, in law. 232 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 history that I have suppressed, it is for being such a fool as to bid the man follow the chaise when he inquired the way. The whole conduct was my own in this no adven ture, which I see has sweUed to a magnitude. I had forgotten it, and it certainly was not worth relating ; so pray, your Ladyship, let me be restored to my character of indiscreet in your good opinion, or my neighbour Mr. Ellis will come and trust me with some state secret out of the Utrecht Gazette. I have escaped many such sage friends by not reverencing mystery, to the prejudice of my prefer ment, no doubt ; but I do not regret my misfortune, though my error is so evident. When Mentor and Sir Eichard Lyttelton were lads of fifteen, they were walking in the garden at Hampton Court, with that old driveUer Lord Fitzwater. Lyttelton rattled away as usual. As soon as the peer was gone, Master Mentor said to his companion, ' Dick, how could you talk so imprudently before a privy councillor ! ' Could such premature wisdom faU to produce a nurse of future Caesars ? and have not I now proved to your Ladyship that you accuse me unjustly of being too cautious ? Apropos, Telemachus 1 was entertained yesterday at Oat lands ; the guests besides were Lord and Lady Holderness, Lord and Lady Hertford, Fitzroy, George Onslow and his wife. It is pity the first glimpse of empire was such a paradise ; he wUl conclude it is Elysium from thence to the Orkneys. Methinks I in my turn might complain of reserve. Only two bobbins of gold for your tambour, and I had rather be excused more commissions. I beg you wUl honour me with any you please ; I will not excuse myself, unless they would involve me in a dispute with a Custom House officer at Dover, and applications afterwards, which I have not spirit Letter 1636. — ' The Prince of Wales. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 233 to encounter. I propose being at home the first week in October. Mr. Crawfurd and his lady and family, the papers say, are set out for Spa. Lord and Lady VUUers are going to Vienna, not terrified by the persecutions which were executed on an unhappy princess 2 who twice took the same journey. As your Ladyship was scandalized with the verses, though I assure you I gave copies to two Countesses, who desired to have them, I wUl now transcribe a more serious tale, which I found the other night in Froissart, and which shows how true gallantry is degenerated. He is speaking of Edward Ill's first expedition to France (I wish I could write the black letter). 'They had with them Yonge Bachelars, who had eche of them one of their eyen closed with a peace of sylke. It was sayd, how they had made a vowe among the ladyes of their countrey, that they wolde nat se but with one eye tyll they had done some dedes of armes in Fraunce.' Is not it plain, Madam, that we were greater heroes when we were in love and hoodwinked, than now that we have no sentiment, and have our eyes broad open? Arlington Street, Aug. 11, 1775 s. Mr. and Mrs. Crawfurd are not yet gone. Have you heard that Mrs. St. Jack 4 has declared that if the Colonel goes to America, she wUl accompany him? G. Selwyn says she wUl make an excellent breastwork. Adieu, Madam ! I wish you much pleasure, shooting, gold cups, judges, and all the joys the country can afford. a Lady Mary Coke. Thomas Bladen ; m. (1771) Colonel 3 Hitherto printed as a separate (afterwards General) Hon. Henry St. letter. John, second son of second Viscount * Barbara, daughter of Colonel St. John. 234 To the Countess of Ailesbury [1775 1637. To the Countess of Ailesbury. From t'other side ofthe water, Aug. 17, 1775. Interpreting your Ladyship's orders in the most personal sense, as respecting the dangers of the sea, I write the instant I am landed. I did not, in truth, set out tUl yester day morning at eight o'clock ; but finding the roads, horses, postillions, tides, winds, moons, and Captain Fectors in the pleasantest humour in the world, I embarked almost as soon as I arrived at Dover, and reached Calais before the sun was awake ; — and here I am for the sixth time in my life, with only the trifling distance of seven-and-thirty years between my first voyage and the present. Well ! I can only say in excuse, that I am got into the land of Strulbrugs, where one is never too old to be young, and where la bequille du pere Barnabas blossoms like Aaron's rod, or the Glastonbury thorn. Now, to be sure, I shaU be a little mortified, if your Ladyship wanted a letter of news, and did not at aU trouble your head about my navigation. However, you will not tell one so; and therefore I wUl persist in beheving that this good news will be received with transport at Park Place, and that the bells of Henley will be set a-ringing. The rest of my adventures must be deferred tiU they have happened, which is not always the case of travels. I send you no compliments from Paris, because I have not got thither, nor deUvered the bundle which Mr. Conway sent me. I did, as your Ladyship commanded, buy three pretty little medallions in frames of filigraine, for our dear old friend 1- They wiU not ruin you, having cost not a guinea and a half ; but it was all I could find that was genteel and portable ; and as she does not measure by guineas, but Letter 1637. — 1 Madame du Deffand. Walpole. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 235 attentions, she will be as much pleased as if you had sent her a dozen acres of Park Place. As they are in bas-relief, too, they are feelable, and that is a material circumstance to her. I wish the Diomede had even so much as a pair of Nankin ! Adieu, toute la chore famille! I think of October with much satisfaction ; it wUl double the pleasure of my return. 1638. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Eoye, Aug. 18, 1775. The last paragraph of your letter made me smUe, Madam. If Colonel Mars were setting out for America with Jove's own thunder-bolt in his portmanteau, Venus could not have encouraged him by a more inspiring epistle. So my glory is to redound to your Ladyship ! Alas ! I am grieved to the heart that my journey has been hitherto so tranquil and obscure, that, I doubt, not the reflection of a ray wiU fall to your Ladyship's share. I slipped into Calais with as little eclat as a smuggler. No garrison under arms received me, nor commandant conducted me in ceremony to the citadel. In short, the King of France had forgotten to write a post script in my favour, when he ordered royal honours for my niece1; and so, by that neglect, no regard was paid to my avuncular dignity. I was not very sorry, as walking is not one of my excellences ; in my best days Mr. Winning- ton said I tripped like a peewit ; and if I do not flatter myself, my march at present is more like a dabchick's. I arrived at Dover in such a clear blue evening, and saw the French coast so distinctly, that, had I had but a pair of miracle-shoes, I thought I could have gone over on foot in a quarter of an hour ; but I am not going to relate my journey, which was written seven-and-thirty years ago, and Letter 1638. — l The Duchess of Gloucester. 236 To the Countess of Ailesbury [1775 is in print (v. Gray's letters). Well ! I have not Uved so long for nothing ; I have at least learnt wit enough not to waste six days between Calais and Paris; but, as Mr. Mason says, I was young and giddy, and thought I had time enough and to spare, which is not quite the case at present. I hope my own biographer wUl give as good a reason for my being here at all ; but that is his business, not mine. 1639. To the Countess of Ailesbury. Paris, Aug. 20, 1775. I have been sea-sick to death ; I have been poisoned by dirt and vermin ; I have been stifled by heat, choked by dust, and starved for want of anything I could touch : and yet, Madam, here I am, perfectly well, not in the least fatigued ; and, thanks to the rivelled parchments, formerly faces, which I have seen by hundreds, I find myself almost as young as when I came hither first in the last century. In spite of my whims, and deUcacy, and laziness, none of my grievances have been mortal : I have borne them as well as if I had set up for a phUosopher, like the sages of this town. Indeed, I have found my dear old woman so well, and looking so much better than she did four years ago, that I am transported with pleasure, and thank your Ladyship and Mr. Conway for driving me hither. Madame du Deffand came to me the instant I arrived, and sat by me whUst I stripped and dressed myself ; for, as she said, since she cannot see, there was no harm in my being stark. She was charmed with your present; but was so kind as to be so much more charmed with my arrival, that she did not think of it a moment. I sat with her till half an hour after two in the morning, and had a letter from her before my eyes were open again. In short, her soul is immortal, and forces her body to bear it company. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 237 This is the very eve of Madame Clotilde's wedding ; but Monsieur Turgot, to the great grief of Lady Mary \ will suffer no cost, but one banquet, one ball, and a play at VersaiUes. Count Virri gives a banquet, a bal masque, and a firework. I think I shall see little but the last, from which I will send your Ladyship a rocket in my next letter. Lady Mary, I believe, has had a private audience of the am bassador's leg, but en tout bien et honneur, and only to satisfy her ceremonious curiosity about any part of royal nudity. I am just going to her, as she is at Versailles ; and I have not time to add a word more to the vows of your Ladyship's Most faithful, Hor. Walpole. 1640. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Paris, Aug. 23. I should have a heart of adamant, Madam, if I was not become a perfect Frenchman. Nothing could exceed my reception. I do not talk only of my dear old friend, whose kindness augments with the century. The Marechales de Luxembourg and Mirepoix came to Paris to see me ; the Duchesse de la Valliere met me in the outward room and embraced me. I am smeared with red, like my own crest the Saracen, and, in short, have been so kissed on both cheeks, that had they been as large as Madame de Virri's, they would have lost leather ; but enough of vanity. I have landed on the moment of pomp and diversion. Madame ClotUde was married on Monday morning, and at night was the banquet royal, — the finest sight sur la terre, — I believe, for I did not see it. I husband my pleasures and my person, and do not expose my wrinkles au grand jour. Letter 1639. — l Lady Mary Coke. 238 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 Last night I did limp to the bal pari, and as I am the hare with many real friends, was placed on the banc des am- bassadeurs, just behind the royal family. It was in the theatre, the bravest in the universe ; and yet taste pre dominates over expense. What I have to say I can teU your Ladyship in a word, for it was impossible to see anything but the Queen! Hebes and Floras, and Helens and Graces, are street-walkers to her. She is a statue of beauty, when standing or sitting; grace itself when she moves. She was dressed in silver, scattered over with laurier-roses ; few diamonds, and feathers, much lower than the Monument. They say she does not dance in time, but then it is wrong to dance in time. Four years ago I thought her like an English Duchess1, whose name I have forgotten for some years. Horrible ! but the Queen has had the cestus since. The King's likeness to a Duke, whose name is equally out of my books, remains ; and as if there was a fatahty that chained the two famUies together, Madame is as like Lady Georgiana 2 as two peas. As your Ladyship and Lord Ossory cannot be so engrossed with gazing on the Queen as I was, you wUl want to hear more of the court. I wiU try what I can remember of it. The new Princess of Piedmont has a glorious face, the rest about the dimensions of the last Lord HoUand, which does not do so well in a stiff-bodied gown. Madame Elizabeth 3 is pretty and genteel ; Mademoiselle 4 a good figure and dances well. As several of the royal famUy are Letter1640. — l Elizabeth Wrottes- s Elisabeth Philippine Marie Thfr ley, Duchess of Grafton. See letter rese (1764-1794), younger sister of to the Earl of Hardwicke of Jan. 12, Louis XVI. She was imprisoned 1775. Walpole's correspondent, the with the King and Queen in the Countess of Ossory, had been Duchess Temple, and perished by the guillo- of Grafton previous to her divorce tine on May 10, 1794. in 1769. 4 Perhaps Louise Adelaide, daugh- 2 Lady Georgiana Fitzroy, daugh- ter of the Prince de Condi ; Abbess ter of Lady Ossory by her former of Remiremont, 1786; d. 1824. husband, 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 239 drapes " for the Princess of Conti ", there were besides, only the King's two brothers, the three elder Mesdames7, the Princess de Lamballe 8, and the Prince of Conde. Monsieur is very handsome ; the Comte d'Artois a better figure and better dancer. The characters approach to those of two other royal dukes. There were but eight minuets, and, except the Queen and Princesses, only eight lady dancers. I was not so struck with the dancing as I expected, except with a pas de deux by the Marquis de Noailles9 and Madame Holstein. For beauty, I saw none, or the Queen effaced all the rest. After the minuets were French countiy dances, much encumbered by the long trains, longer tresses, and hoops. As the weather was excessively sultry, I do not think the clothes, though of gauze and the Ughtest sUks, had much taste. In the intervals of dancing, baskets of peaches, China oranges (a little out of season), biscuits, ices, and wine and water, were presented to the royal family and dancers. The baU lasted but just two hours. The monarch did not dance, but for the first two rounds of the minuets even the Queen does not turn her back to him ; yet her ibehaviour is as easy as divine. To-night is a banquet for three hundred persons, given by the Count de Virri, and on Friday he gives a bal masque to the universe in a Colisee erected on purpose. I have excused myself from the first, s A form of court mourning which the Due de Penthievre, whom he pre- consisted in draping the carriages of deceased). She was Superintendent members of the royal family, and of the Queen's Household. She was those who possessed les honneurs du greatly attached to Marie Antoinette, . Louvre, with black cloth. and shared her captivity in the 6 Louise Elisabeth, daughter ofthe Temple from Aug.-Sept. 1792. In Prince de Condi; m. (1713) Louis the latter month the Princess was Armand de Bourbon, Prince de taken to the prison of La Force, Conti. where she was massacred on Sept. 3, 7 Daughters of Louis XV. 1792. 8 Marie Therese Louise de Savoie- » Emmanuel Marie Louis (1743- Carignan (1748-1792), m. (1767) the 1822), Marquis de Noailles, Ambassa- Prince de Lamballe (eldest Bon of dor in England, 1776. 240 To the Bev. WiUiam Mason [1775 as I have no curiosity to see how three hundred persons eat, but shall go for a moment to the other jete, as nothing but dominos are used, except the grand habit for the dancers. On Saturday is to be acted, in the same great theatre at Versailles, the Connetable de Bourbon, a new piece by Monsieur Guibert10, author of the Tactique, graciously in dulged to the Queen, and not to be profaned but there and at Fontainebleau, car cela derogeroit ; and, besides, his father is a vieux militaire, who would not condescend to hear his son's play read, even to the Queen! The Prince de Beauvau is to place me, and there end the spectacles, for Monsieur Turgot is econome. I am rejoiced, for the heat was so great last night, and I traversed so many corridors, that I would not have so much pleasure often for aU the world. Thus, Madam, I have given your Ladyship a full account of my travels in this my second life ; and you are reheved by my letters from England. I cannot help telling you the French are a Uttle amazed at our sacrificing the substance of America to the sovereignty, for they grow as English in their ideas as we grow French. WeU, I wUl go read our papers, that I may be able to dispute with them. 1641. To the Eev. William Mason. Paris, Sept. 6, 1775. I have made very little progress yet towards the account I am to give you of the propagation of the faith in this kingdom. But stay, this is a little too metaphoric ; and lest I should be taken for an ex-Jesuit or a spy, I declare, like the writer of an Opera, that I neither believe in the 10 Jacques Antoine Hippolyte Academy in 1786. His father was (1743-1790), Comte de Guibert, Charles Benoit (1715-1786), Comte elected a member of the French de Guibert. 1775] To the Bev. WiUiam Mason 241 gods of old Eome nor new, excepting Vertumnus, Flora, and Pomona, and that I am going to write to you my Provincial, on the conversion of the French to English gardening. I have begun my observation as methodicaUy as if I was to draw up an article for the Encyclopedia. I have laid the axe to the root of the tree, for I have begun by visiting M. Watelet's isle, called le Moulin Joli. If he has laid the axe to the root, and even to the branches, he has used it nowhere else. Instead of finding, as I ex pected, a windmUl made of ivory and inlaid with false stones ; instead of Dryads and Hamadryads gathering acorns in baskets of gauze, M. Watelet has jumped back into nature, when she was not above five hundred years old: in one word, his island differs in nothing from a French garden into which no mortal has set his foot for the last century. It is an ate (I don't know whether I spell well) joined to his terra firma by two bridges, one of which he calls Dutch and the other Chinese, and which are as unlike either as two peas, and which is pierced and divided into straight narrow walks (en berceau) and sur rounded by a rude path quite round. To give this itoile an air champetre, a plenary indulgence has been granted to every nettle, thistle, and bramble that grew in the garden, ' and they seem good in his sight? The receipt is as foUows : — take an ate full of willows, cram it fuU of small elms and poplar pines, strip them into cradles, and cut them into paths, and leave all the rest as rough as you found it, and you will have a Moulin Joli. You must know this effort of genius is the more pro voking, as the situation is charming. Besides that the isle is in the middle of the Seine, every peephole (though so small that you seem to look through the diminishing end of a spying-glass, besides terminating on one real windmiU) is bounded by a chateau, a clocher, a vUlage, a convent, WALPOLE. IX 242 To the Bev. William Mason [ms a viUa where Henrietta Maria was educated, or hermitage to which Bossuet retired, — not to mortify himself, but Fenelon. It is true, you catch these points of view over wide fields of chalk, which would produce frankincense as soon as grass, and which (if they had symptoms of verdure) were waving ranks of fennel. I always perceive here, when I am out of Paris; but I never can think myself in the country. I shall next week see some more Enghsh Essays. But they are imitating us in better things : their King is of an exceUent disposition, he has driven away the Chancellor, the Due d'Aiguillon, and those wretches who had given perfection to despotism in the last reign. M. de Maurepas restored the old ParUament, and M. Turgot, the Comptroller-General, has destroyed corvees, that most execrable oppression, and is every day planning and at tempting acts for public happiness. The Eloges of the Academy roll on maxims of virtue and patriotism, and the King publicly applauds them. You may judge whether they do not stare at all we are doing! They wUl not believe me when I tell them that the American war is fashionable, for one is forced to use that word to convey to them an idea of the majority. A great lady asked me the other day if I was not a Bostonian ? and I have not met with a single Frenchman who does not express indigna tion or sneer contempt at all our late Acts of Parliament. M. de Castries being told that Lord North has the Garter, was surprised, and said for what ? for having lost America ? — Upon these subjects, as I have not a vast deal to say on behalf of my dear country, I choose to shift the con versation to her Grace of Kingston, whose history seems as strange to them as our pohtics. What a chef-d'oeuvre is Foote's answer 1 ! Letter 1641.— i See Gent. Mag. 1775, pp. 390-2, 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 243 Sept. 10. Chap. II. On Anglo-Franco gardens, which by the by they call Anglo-Chinois gardens, as they say that by the help of Sir William Chambers's lunettes they have detected us for having stolen our gardens from the Chinese. I shall tell them another tale when I publish my last volume. Yesterday I went to see the Countess de Boufflers' English garden at AuteuU, and it is strictly English, and begotten by her on an Enghsh gardener. There are fifty-two acres, which ascend from the house up a hUl that is laid out in fields, with a sunk fence and loose trees and shrubs, and has tolerable turf, except that it is coarse and of a green seldom worn by a gentleman's garden in England. AU along the summit reigns a noble terrace, surrounded by the Bois de Boulogne, into which a grille opens upon a lofty avenue bounded by a sugar-loaf hUl. The terrace looks over the lawn upon a glorious prospect, which begins from the left with one of the King's houses, is joined by a wood out of which juts Passy, the Due de Penthievre's "J, that forms the side-scene and flings a rich view of hiUs and towns to a great distance. The middle of the landscape advances again ; on the foreground are villages and villas, over which is extended aU Paris, with the horizon broken by the towers and domes of Notre Dame, St. Sulpice, the Invahdes, the Val de Grace, &c. ; the whole height of the semicircle goes off in hills decked with villages and country-houses that are closed by Meudon, and forests on higher hiUs. In this sumptuous prospect nothing is wanting but verdure and water, of which you do not see a drop. In short, they can never have as beautiful landscapes as ours, till they have as bad a climate. 3 Louis Jean Marie de Bourbon (1725-1793), Duo de Penthievre, B 2 244 ,. To Sir Horace Mann [1775 I think I shall stay here a month longer. If you send me a line, direct it to Arlington ; it wUl be conveyed or kept for me. Yours ever, H. W. 1642. To Sir Horace Mann. Paris, Sept. 7, 1775. Your letter of Aug. 12th foUowed me hither from England. I can answer it from hence with less reserve than I should at home. I understand very well, my dear Sir, the propriety of the style in which you write in your ministerial capacity, and never wish to have you expose yourself to any inconvenience by unnecessary frankness. I am too much convinced of your heart and head not swerving from the glorious principles in which we were both educated, to suspect you of having adopted the principles instilled into so many Englishmen by Scotch Jacobites, the authors of the present, as they have been of every, civil war, — since the days of Queen Elizabeth. You wUl on your side not be surprised that I am what I always was, a zealot for hberty in every part of the globe, and consequently that I most heartily wish success to the Americans. They have hitherto not made one blunder ; and the administration have made a thousand, besides the two capital ones, of first provoking, and then of uniting the colonies. The latter seem to have as good heads as hearts, as we want both. The campaign seems languishing. The ministers will make all their efforts against the spring. So no doubt will the Americans too. Probably the war will be long. On the side of England, it must be attended with ruin. If England prevails, English and American hberty is at an end ! If the colonies prevail, our commerce is gone— and if, at last, we negotiate, they wUl neither forgive nor give us our former advantages. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 245 The country where I now am is, luckily, neither in a condition or disposition to meddle. If it did, it would complete our destruction, even by only assisting the colonies, which I can scarce think they are blind enough not to do. They openly talk of our tyranny and folly with horror and contempt, and perhaps with amazement, and so does almost every foreign minister here, as well as every Frenchman. Instead of being mortified, as I generally am when my country is depreciated, I am comforted by finding that, though but one of very few in England, the sentiments of the rest of the world concur with and confirm mine. The people with us are fascinated ; and what must we be, when Frenchmen are shocked at our despotic acts ! Indeed, both this nation and their King seem to embrace the most generous principles — the only fashion, I doubt, in which we shaU not imitate them! Too late, our eyes wiU open! The Duke and Duchess1 are at Venice. Nothing ever exceeded the distinctions paid to them in this country. The King even invited them to Paris ; but the Duke's haste to be more southerly before the bad weather begins, would not permit him to accept of that honour. They do not expect the same kindness everywhere — and for the English, they have even let the French see what slaves they are, by not paying their duty to the Duke and Duchess. I have written to her, without naming you, to dissuade their fixing at Eome — I fear, in vain. I proposed Sienna to them, as I flatter myself the Emperor's goodness for the Duke would dispose the Great Duke to make it agreeable to them ; and their residence there would not commit you. Indeed, I do not believe you suspect me of sacrificing you to the interests of my family. On the other hand, I wish you, for your own sake, to take any opportunities of paying your court to them Letter 1642. — 1 Of Gloucester. Walpole. 246 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 indirectly. They are both warm and hurt at the indignities they have received. In our present distracted situation, it is more than possible that the Duke may be a very important personage. I know well that you have had full reason to be dissatisfied with him ; I remember it as much as you can : but you are too prudent, as weU as too good-natured, not to forgive a young Prince. I own I am in pain about the Duchess. She has aU the good qualities of her father2, but all his impetuosity ; and is much too apt to resent affronts, though her virtue and good nature make her as easily reconciled ; but her first movements are not discreet. I wish you to please her as much as possible, within your instructions. She has admirable sense, when her passions do not predominate. In one word, her marriage has given me many a pang; and though I never gave into it, I endeavour by every gentle method to prevent her making her situation still worse ; and, above aU things, I try never to inflame. It is all I can do where I have no ascendant, which, with a good deal of spirit of my own, I cannot expect : however, as I perfectly understand both my parties and myself, I manage pretty well. I know when to stoop, and when to stop ; and when I will stoop or wUl not. I should not be so pliant if they were where they ought to be. That heroine of Doctors' Commons, about whom you inquire, the Duchess of Kingston, has at last made her folly, which I have long known, as public as her shame, by entering the lists with a Merry-Andrew, but who is no fool. Foote was bringing her on the stage : Lord Hertford 3 prohibited his piece. Drunk with her triumph, she would give the mortal blow with her own hand, — Pallas te hoc vulnere Pallas immolat; 2 Sir Edward Walpole. Walpole. 5 Lord Chamberlain. Walpole. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 247 but, as the instrument she chose was a goose-quill, the stroke recoUed on herself. She wrote a letter in the Evening Post, which not the lowest of her class, who tramp in pattens, would have set her mark to. Billingsgate from a ducal coronet was inviting : however, Foote, with all the dehcacy she ought to have used, rephed only with wit, irony, and confounded satire. The Pope will not be able to wash out the spots with all the holy water in the Tiber. I imagine she wiU escape a trial ; but Foote has given her the coup de grace. Lord Chatham, when I left England, was in a very low, languishing way; his constitution, I believe, too much exhausted to throw out the gout ; and then it falls on his spirits. The last letters speak of his case as not desperate. He might, if allowed — and it was practicable — do much good stiU. Who else can, I know not. The opposition is weak every way. They have better hearts than the ministers, fewer good heads ; not that I am in admiration of the latter. Times may produce men. We must trust to the book of events, if we wUl flatter ourselves. Make no answer to this ; only say you received my letter from Paris, and direct to England. I may stay here a month longer ; but it is uncertain. llth. P.S. I had made up my letter; but those I received from England last night bring such important inteUigence, I must add a paragraph. That miracle of gratitude, the Czarina, has consented to lend England twenty thousand Eussians, to be transported to America. The Parliament is to meet on the 20th of next month, and vote twenty-six thousand seamen! What a paragraph of blood is there! With what torrents must liberty be preserved in America ! In England, what can save it? Oh, mad, mad England! What frenzy, to throw away its treasures, lay waste its 248 To the Hon. Henry Seymowr Conway [1775 empire of wealth, and sacrifice its freedom, that its prince may be the arbitrary lord of boundless deserts in America, and of an impoverished, depopulated, and thence insignificant, island in Europe ! and what prospect of comfort has a true Enghshman ? Why, that PhUip II miscarried against the boors of Holland, and that Louis XIV could not replace James II on the throne ! 1643. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Paris, Sept. 8, 1775. The delays of the post, and its departure before its arrival, saved me some days of anxiety for Lady Aylesbury, and prevented my telling you how concerned I am for her accident; though I trust, by this time, she has not even pain left. I feel the horror you must have felt during her suffering in the dark, and on the sight of her arm 1 ; and though nobody admires her needlework more than I, stUl I am rejoiced that it will be the greatest sufferer. However, I am very impatient for a further account. Madame du Deffand, who, you know, never loves her friends by halves, and whose impatience never allows itself time to inform itself, was out of her wits, because I could not explain exactly how the accident happened, and where. She wanted to write directly, though the post was just gone ; and, as soon as I could make her easy about the accident, she fell into a new distress about her fans for Madame de Marchais, and concludes they have been overturned, and broken too. In short, I never saw anything like her. She has made engagements for me till Monday se'nnight, in which are included I don't know how many journeys into the country ; and as nobody ever leaves her without engaging them for Letter 1643. — i Lady Ailesbury at Park Place, and dislocated her had been overturned in her carriage wrist. Walpole. 1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 249 another time, all these parties wiU be so many polypuses, that will shoot out into new ones every way. Madame de Jonsac2, a great friend of mine, arrived the day before yesterday, and Madame du Deffand has pinned her down to meeting me at her house four times before next Tuesday, all parentheses, that are not to interfere with our other suppers ; and from those suppers I never get to bed before two or three o'clock. In short, I need have the activity of a squirrel, and the strength of a Hercules, to go through my labours — not to count how many demelis I have had to raccommode, and how many memoires to present against Tonton', who grows the greater favourite the more people he devours. As I am the only person who dare correct him, I have already insisted on his being confined in the Bastile every day after five o'clock. T'other night he flew at Lady Barrymore's face, and I thought would have torn her eye out; but it ended in biting her finger. She was terrified ; she fell into tears. Madame du Deffand, who has too much parts not to see everything in its true light, perceiving that she had not beaten Tonton half enough, immediately told us a story of a lady, whose dog having bitten a piece out of a gentleman's leg, the tender dame, in a great fright, cried out, ' Won't it make my dog sick ? ' Lady Barrymore has taken a house. She will be glutted with conquests: I never saw anybody so much admired. I doubt her poor little head will be quite overset. Madame de Marchais is charming : eloquence and attention itself. I cannot stir for peaches, nectarines, grapes, and Bury pears. You would think Pomona was in love with me. I am not so transported with N cock and hen. They are a tabor and pipe that I do not understand. He mouths and she squeaks, and neither articulates. M. d'Entragues I have a The Comtesse de Jonsac, a niece s A favourite dog of Madame du of the President Henault. " Deffand's. Walpole. 250 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [ms not seen. Upon the whole I am much more pleased with Paris than ever I was ; and perhaps shaU stay a Uttle longer than I intended. The Harry GrenvUles4 are arrived. I dined with them at Madame de Viry's, who has completed the conquest of France by her behaviour on Madame Clotilde's wedding, and by the fetes she gave. Of other English I wot not, but grieve the Eichmonds do not come. I am charmed with Dr. BaUy ; nay, and with the King of Prussia — as much as I can be with a northern monarch. For your Kragen, I think we ought to procure a female one, and marry it to Ireland, that we may breed some new islands against we have lost America. I know nothing of said America. There is not a Frenchman that does not think us distracted. I used to scold you about your bad writing, and perceive I have written in such a hurry, and blotted my letter so much, that you will not be able to read it: but consider how few moments I have to myself. I am forced to stuff my ears with cotton to get any sleep. — However, my journey has done me good. I have thrown off at least fifteen years. Here is a letter for my dear Mrs. Damer from Madame de Cambis, who thinks she dotes on you aU. Adieu ! P.S. I shaU bring you two Eloges of Marshal Catinat; not because I admire them, but because I admire him, because I think him very like you. 1644. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Avez-vous lu les deux Eloges ? Ah ! mon Dieu, le petit Cosse est mort ; c'est une desolation ! Monsieur de Clermont qui vient de perdre sa femme ! — eh bien, Madame ! et Mon- 4 Henry Grenville, brother to the Margaret Banks, a celebrated beauty. first Earl Temple. He married Miss Walpole. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 251 sieur Chamboneau qui doit reprendre la sienne — mais c'est affreux. Apropos, on dit qu'on vient de nommer deux dames a Madame Elizabeth ! si je le scais ! bon ; ne voila-t-U pas que je viens de me faire ecrire chez Madame de Eonche- rolles ! soupez-vous par hasard chez Madame de la Eeiniere : ? This is the quintessence, Madam, of the present state of Paris, Sept. 9th, 1775, a quarter before twelve in the fore noon ; and if you receive my letter within a week, you may boast of having the freshest and most fashionable intelligence of what was said last night at half an hour after eight in one of the first houses in this capital : not that your Lady ship has much claim on my punctuality : I have been here three weeks this blessed day, and you have taken no more notice of me than if I was in Siberia, and were gone out of fashion instead of in. Eemember I am out of your jurisdic tion, Madam; and that mon coeur is assailed like Cithere assiegee, the subject of the present Opera. Lord! how I could brag if I would ! Madame de B.2 told me last night that I had made the conquete of her daughter-in-law, la Comtesse EmiUe ; I am going to drink tea with her under a bosquet de plumes this evening, in the mother's English garden at Auteuil, and I am to sup at St. Ouen with Madame Necker', who is reckoned to have condescended more towards me than to any bel esprit or philosophe since the days of David Hume. It is true I have hurt myself by speaking a little irreverently of Monsieur Thomas, and by laughing when she told me that Bossuet and the writers under Louis Quatorze had only opened the channels of eloquence which the authors of the present age have made into a perfect bason— but I am always kicking down the paU of my fortune by some indiscretion or other ! Well ! Letter 1644.— 1 Nie Jarente, wife 3 Nie Suzanne Curchod j wife of of M. de la Reyniere, a rich financier. the financier Jacques Necker; d. Her suppers were celebrated. 1794. 2 Madame de Boufflers. 252 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [ms they are a charming people, and I cannot think of leaving them yet. In England I fancied I was within a furlong of threescore ; but it is so English to grow old ! The French are Strulbrugs improved. After ninety they have no more caducity or distempers, but set out on a new career. Madame du Deffand and I set out last Sunday at seven in the evening, to go fifteen mUes to a ball, and came back after supper ; and another night, because it was but one in the morning when she brought me home, she ordered the coachman to make the tour of the Quais, and drive gently because it was so early. Do you think, Madam, I will come home and have the gout, when I feel myself as young as Nestor when he had just tapped his second centuiy ? These good folks push the delusion of life to the last moment. A gentleman here was dying ; his wife sent for the notary to make his wiU ; and when it was done, lest the poor man should have a codicil more of affection to make, they supped by his bedside. The notary, tout plein d'attentions, filled a bumper and said, ' Madame, a la sante de notre aimable agonisant.' Pray tell Lord Ossory, Madam, that he would not know Paris, it is so improved in buildings and in good architecture. The Hotel de la Monnaie on the Quai is very handsome. The Ecole MUitaire would be beautiful if the columns were not as short as they are long. I have not yet had time to see the Ecole de Chirurgie, which they say is beautiful, nor the PortaU de Ste. Genevieve, nor the Hotel du Chatelet, nor the Petite Maison of the Princess of Monaco, but shaU next week. There are twenty new streets that are lovely, with arcades and gardens. Mad. de Mirepoix's house, where I supped last night, is charming. It is on the old Boulevard, the trees of which shade the windows, with the perspective of a street in front. The saile a manger is all of stucco, highly polished, representing white marble, with panels of 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 253 verd antique. The grand cabinet is round, all white and gold and glasses, with curtains in festoons of sUk fiambe, and LUuminated by four branches of Ulies of or moulu, each as loose and graceful as that which Guido's angel holds in the Salutation at the Carmelites, which, alas ! they have just repainted, as they are serving the whole cloister at the Chartreuse. WhUe we were at supper, with all the windows open, and les Gardes du Boi playing to us, your Ladyship, I suppose, was hovering over a fire. It has been sultry ever since I came hither ; the last five days like the torrid zone, and Ughtning as cheap as gunpowder. We are expecting Mr. Crawfurd ; pray don't send for him to Parliament. In England I conclude you are stiU talking of Mrs. Eudd and Miss Butterfield ', and of the Duchess of Eudd and Butterfield 5. Well, you may tell me what news you have ; I wUl pretend to care about it, as one does about les nouvelles de province. # I am very insolent, Madam, but at bottom there is a Uttle resentment at not having heard from you. 1645. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Paris, Sept. 12, 1775. So they say it was I, Madam, who made your Ladyship entertain a passion for Lord Ossory! Upon my word, I never suspected before that I was the god of love ! nor can I now discover any resemblance between us, unless Le Sage was right when he made the devU upon two sticks acknowledge himself for Cupid. However, as the deed was a good one, and made two persons happier than Venus's son generaUy does, I am well content to take it upon myself : yet not proposing to be so * Jane Butterfield, tried on a charge of murder in the preceding August, and acquitted. 6 The Duchess of Kingston. 254 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 convenient again, I will resign Asmodeo's hop to anybody that Ukes the profession. What was in the letter that diverted Lord Ossory, I re member no more than the man in the moon, whose memory lasts but a month. I know, though you are so overbenign to them, Madam, that I grow easier about my letters ; since they have become so numerous, they must have the fate of a collection that was found last winter at Monsieur de Pondeveylle's : there were sixteen thousand from one lady, in a correspondence of only eleven years. For fear of setting the house on fire if thrown into the chimney, the executors crammed them into the oven. There have been known here persons who wrote to one another four times a day ; and I was told of one couple, who being always together, and the lover being fond of writing, he placed a screen between them, and then wrote to Madame on t'other side, and flung them over. You perceive I had not received your Ladyship's when I sent one away yesterday, nor knew you had been dancing a dream with the Duke of Monmouth, who, when he lost his head, never dreamt you would replace it with his cousin's, whose head I am sure I never recommended or commended to anybody. Sept. 16 K I was interrupted, Madam, t'other day, and have not had a moment since to finish my answer, for, as I never come home till morning, I do not rise tiU evening. Mr. Crawfurd is arrived, though he did promise to come— to make amends, he has not kept one engagement since. On his way, he went to visit the Chatelets, but in a province where they do not live ; he has changed his lodgings already, and does not hke that which he has got. When he came to Brussels, Sir Something Gordon, our minister, had just shot out both Lettee 1645 — 1 Hitherto printed as a separate letter. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 255 eyes of the Due d'Aremberg's son, but letters since say he wiU recover one of them. Pray assure the Duchess of Marlborough, Madam, that I am much flattered by her Grace's invitation, and shall certainly obey it. I shall not have an opportunity quite so soon as I intended, having promised to stay here till the 10th of next month — a promise I already repent, as the weather, with English inconstancy, has changed at once from sultry to extreme cold and deluges of rain. The charming Queen is gone out of fashion, so I am no longer in love with her. However, as I have not seen another face that is handsomer than a mermaid's at the stern of a ship, my heart is stUl vacant — in France ; and you may have it again, Madam, if you are not stUl dreaming of the Duke of Monmouth, or any of King Charles's breed. If you saw how like this King is to one of them, and what horrid grimaces he makes, I am sure all my power of descrip tion would not reconcUe you to him. Monsieur is very handsome— but somehow or other, I doubt, nobody will fall in love with him. The Comte d'Artois is not so comely, is better made, and having revived the house of Bourbon, is taking true pains to reconcUe the ladies to the family. The Duke of Orleans, as they have no longer occasion for his being king, is in a bad way. Madame de Boufflers told us at supper t'other night qu'a sa garderobe il s'etoit passe de la graisse. I never heard of such a complaint before, and was very glad it was the only one that poor Crawfurd, who was present, cannot fancy he has. Lady Anne's comparison of her father to Maitre Corbeau put me in mind of a very good story, though so old I fear you know it, of a Uttle girl who had confounded her prayers and La Fontaine, and being ordered to repeat the Lord's Prayer in French, began, ' Notre pere sur un arbre perche.' If this is antiquated, I have nothing else newer — except that 256 To George Augustus Selwyn [1775 I am violently tempted to stay for Mariette's sale, which they say is to be in November. I have not heard a syllable of news from England since I came hither, my few corre spondents being in the country, like your Ladyship. Thank my stars, you cannot commend this letter, Madam : I hope it is duU enough to pass with impunity. I should have a fine time of it if I tortured myself to keep up a character ! but nobody shall ever catch me at that. 21st. Lord Duncannon 2 is not gone ! my letter has lain by tUl it is mouldy, but as I have an opportunity of sending it to morrow, and no time to write another, it must go, super annuated as it is ! 1646. To George Augustus Selwyn. Paris, Sept. 16, 1775. Mr. Brodrick1 brought me your letter yesterday, and I told him, as you may be sure, how glad I shall be to be of any use to him. I shaU be of little, I beUeve, as his object is to see things, not persons. Madame du Deffand would have been more pleased with your message, which I delivered immediately, if she had had greater faith in it : yet, when Crawfurd and I come so often, how can she doubt her power of attraction? If possible, she is more worth visiting than ever: and so far am I from being ashamed of coming hither at my age, that I look on myseU as wiser than one of the Magi, when I travel to adore this star in the East. The star and I went to the Opera last night, and when we came from Madame 2 Frederick Ponsonby (1758-1844), Roscoe. Lord Duncannon, eldest son of l Probably a son of the third second Earl of Besborough, whom Viscount Midleton, who married he succeeded in 1793. George Selwyn's niece, Albinia Letter 1646. — Collated with copy Townshend. of original in possession of Mr. E. S. 1775] To George Augustus Selwyn 257 de la VaUiere's, at one in the morning, it wanted to drive about the town, because it was too early to set. To be sure, you and I have dedicated our decline to very different occupations. You nurse a little girl 2 of four years old, and I rake with an old woman of fourscore ! N'importe ; we know many sages that take great pains to pass their time with less satisfaction. We have both one capital mortification ; have not you ? That a great-grand-daughter of Madame de Sevigne' pretends, for it is not certain, that she has- been debauched by ancient Eichelieu, and half the world thinks that she is more guilty of forgery. The memoirs of the two parties are half as voluminous as Monsieur de Guines', and more are to appear. You shall have some royal prints. New fashions in dress, furniture, baubles, I have seen none. Feathers are waning, and almost confined to filles and foreigners. I found out an Englishwoman at the Opera last night by her being covered with plumes and no rouge, which made her look like a whore in a salivation ; so well our countrywomen contrive to dis play their virtue ! I do not tell you about Mons. Turgot's regulations and reformations, because you care no more about their patrie than your own ; but you shaU hear a bon mot of Madame du Deffand. Mons. Turgot has begun several reforms and retracted them : she said, ' Dans le bon vieux terns on recu- loit pour mieux sauter, au lieu que Mons. Turgot saute pour mieux reculer.' Of the house of Harrington I know as much as you do. Lady Barrymore is here, and my Lord and Lady Harriet are coming: the first is excessively admired. Lady Mary Coke, Harry Grenville and his wife, Crawfurd, Lord Cole- raine 3, and Lord Duncannon are here : the latter wiU carry a Maria Fagniani, subsequently 3 John Hanger (1743-1794), second mentioned as ' Mirny.' Rar°n Coleraine. WALPOLE. IX S 258 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 this letter. There are many other English ; but I did not come hither to get acquaintance of that sort. Madame du Deffand has recruited her vacancies, and given me enough new French. With one of them you would be delighted, a Madame de Marchais. She is not perfectly young, has a face like a Jew pedlar, her person is about four feet, her head about six, and her coiffure about ten. Her forehead, chin, and neck are whiter than a miller's ; and she wears more festoons of natural flowers than all the figurantes at the Opera. Her eloquence is stUl more abundant, her attentions exuberant. She talks volumes, writes folios — I mean in billets ; presides over the Academie, inspires passions, and has not time enough to heal a quarter of the wounds she gives. She has a house in a nut-sheU, that is fuller of inventions than a fairy tale ; her bed stands in the middle of the room, because there is no other space that would hold it ; and is surrounded by such a perspective of looking- glasses, that you may see all that passes in it from the first ¦antechamber. But you wUl see her if you come in spring, which you wUl not do unless you bring Mirny and Eaton, and one or two of Lord Carlisle's children 4 ; and that you will be afraid of doing, for Madame du Deffand has got a favourite dog that will bite all their noses off, and was very near tearing out one of Lady Barrymore's eyes t'other night. Adieu ! I shall see you by the middle of October. 21st. Duncannon is not gone, but I can send my letter to-morrow, and shalL 1647. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Paris, Oct. 3, 1775. You may be cutting down palm-branches, Madam, to strew the way, for I am coming. The tempter took me up 1 Selwyn was much attached to the Earl of Carlisle and his family. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 259 into a mountain, and showed me all Mariette's collection of prints and drawings, which are to be sold in November, and offered me my choice of them if I would stay. I resisted, and prefer myself infinitely to Scipio : he might have had fifty other women ; but where is there another room full of Eaphaels, Correggios, Parmegianos, and Michael Angelos? Besides, virtue was the bon ton in all the ruelles in Eome, and it was not sgavoir wore to feel like a man : my continence is unique; who else curbs any passion or withstands any temptation ? Did not three monarchs jump at Poland the moment the devU gave them a glimpse of it ? Did I learn. self-denial chez nous? but I wUl be just, and own that perhaps I have been infected here. C'est le regne de la vertu ; and I am flying, lest I should be thought Frenchified, if I return with any principles. Messieurs de Turgot and Malesherbes1 are every day framing plans for mitigating monarchy and relieving the people ; and the King not only listens to but encourages them. Their phihsophes tell folks that the age is enlightened ; but don't repeat this, Madam ; I should be laughed at in England, where we are wiser, and have adopted all the notions which the French are so sUly as to relinquish. However, things do not seem fixed here ; there are two parties, if either of which prevaUed, Dame Vertu would return to her rags. The charming Queen is eager to rein state Mons. de Choiseul, and then Madame Gloire would blaze out in full eclat. If Monsieur and Madame (the latter a very artful Italian 2) get the ascendant, then the Princess de Marsan (Monsieur's governess) would bring back the Jesuits, persecution, the Church, and the devil knows what — Lettee 1647. — x Chretien Guil- 1792, when he undertook the defence laume de Lamoignon de Malesherbes of Louis XVI at his trial before the (1721-1794) ; Ministre de la Maison Convention, He was guillotined in du Roi, 1776-76. He was again April 1794. minister in 1787, but resigned in ! She was of the house of Savoy. 1788, and lived in retirement until S 2 260 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 everything but a Madame du Barri, who must wait for the reign of the Comte d Artois, tiU when there will be no naughty doings in this country. I am going to-night to the Italian comedy with Madame de Mirepoix, to see a new piece, called La Reduction de Paris. I have no idea what it is to be, but shall have time to teU you before I finish my letter. My dear old woman has been dangerously ill, which has confined me above ten days. I carried her yesterday to the new Boulevard to take the air for the first time, and with much difficulty have persuaded her not to sup in the country to-night. Poor Mr. Crawfurd is laid up with the gout, but wiU not be so long, for in spite of all my wisdom he has sent for a fashionable empiric, who has clapped a plaster to his foot and removed the pain in one night. He consulted an old Due de Brancas, who was a cripple, and assured him he could already dance a minuet. As I do not want to dance one, I shall not have recourse to the quack, though he should not Irill Crawfurd. In truth he is, and always wUl be, so unhappy a being, that if I did not love him as much as I do, I should scarce think it kind to dissuade him from anything; but he has so much real worth, and so much good sense, that I preach to him by the hour, though I expect no fruit from my sermons. Madame du Deffand says one can be but what one is born: a great affront to me, who pretend to have improved myself exceedingly. She obeys her thesis so well, that she stiU says and does every thing that comes into her head ; and though I have lectured her black and blue about whispering to me in company, it is but two nights ago that she whispered the Bishop of Mirepoix, thinking it was I that sat next to her, about a lady in company, who was sitting over against her, and saw the mistake. You will not believe it perhaps, Madam, but here I am thought a miracle of prudence and discretion. Yes, 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 261 you will ; for I recollect your Ladyship sometimes upbraids me with those qualities. If I have them, I am sure I am not what I was born ; but evil communication corrects bad manners. Now I am quoting holy writ, I will tell you a story from Madame du Deffand. A worthy old gentleman, who was UI, made his footman read the Bible to him. Unluckily the man could not read, at least not well. The first, sentence he uttered was, ' Dieu apparut a Abimelech en singe.' — ' Comment done, butor ! que lis-tu la ? ' — 'Mais, Monsieur, je dis que Dieu apparut a Abimelech en singe.' — 'Dieu apparut en singe ! ' — ' Eh bien ! Oui, Monsieur, est-ce que Dieu ne peut pas prendre telle forme qu'il lui plait ? ' Pray, Madam, make Lady Anne observe, how true piety drew edification from the mouth of the poor footman. I have another very moral tale for Lady Anne, but it is too long for a letter. I hope to find her in danger of a brother. You know I am so angry at her sister, that I don't even know her name, and regard her as a footman did here, who being sent to inquire after a lady that was brought to bed, and being asked at his return what the chUd was, said, ' Je ne scais pas ; je scais que ce n'est pas un gareon.' P.S. Huge news! — yet not quite ripe. Monsieur de Choiseul is come suddenly to Paris. They say he goes back on Saturday, but his friends look in great spirits; and as the Queen has lately committed some acts of au thority, and as Madame de Marsan has retired without a pension, the famUy-compact— But perhaps your Ladyship had rather hear about La Reduction de Paris. It is a comic opera, and yet as dismal as George Barnwell. Henry IV does nothing but utter maxims and sentences : in the first scene arrives a dame with a helmet on, a spear and shield, 262 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1775 and one leg bare. I concluded it was Joan of Arc, but it proved to be a Dame de ChatUlon, who sings a catch to persuade his Majesty to put every living soul to the sword, as le brave La Noue does another about la loi fonda- menlale. In short, the nation has jumbled itself into such a hodge-podge of philosophy, which they set to music, and of eloquence, which they dress with all sauces, that their productions are monsters of pedantry. I have not met with a page that is worth bringing you. The Academy of Marseilles have given for their next subject the Eloge of Madame de Sevign§. How the good soul would stare if she knew it ! Adieu, Madam, and adieu, Paris ! 1648. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Paris, Oct. 6, 1775. It will look like a month since I wrote to you ; but I have been coming, and am. Madame du Deffand has been so ill, that the day she was seized I thought she would not live till night. Her herculean weakness, which could not resist strawberries and cream after supper, has surmounted all the ups and downs which foUowed her excess ; but her impatience to go everywhere and to do everything has been attended with a kind of relapse, and another kind of giddiness ; so that I am not quite easy about her, as they allow her to take no nourishment to recruit, and she will die of inanition, if she does not live upon it. She cannot lift her head from the pillow without etourdissemens ; and yet her spirits gallop faster than any body's, and so do her repartees. She has a great supper to-night for the Due de Choiseul, and was in such a passion yesterday with her cook about it, and that put Tonton into such a rage, that nos dames de Saint-Joseph thought the devU or the phUosophers were flying away with their convent ! 1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 263 As I have scarce quitted her, I can have had nothing to teU you. If she gets well, as I trust, I shall set out on the 12th ; but I cannot leave her in any danger — though I shall run many myself, if I stay longer. I have kept such bad hours with this malade, that I have had alarms of gout; and bad weather, worse inns, and a voyage in winter, will ill suit me. The fans arrived at a propitious moment, and she immediately had them opened on her bed, and felt all the patterns, and had all the papers described. She was all satisfaction and thanks, and swore me to do her full justice to Lady Aylesbury and Mrs. Damer. Lord Harrington and Lady Harriet are arrived ; but have announced and persisted in a strict invisibility. I know nothing of my chere patrie, but what I learn from the London Chronicle; and that tells me, that the trading towns are suing out lettres de noblesse, that is, entreating the King to put an end to commerce, that they may all be gentlemen. Here agriculture, economy, reformation, phUosophy,'are the bon ton even at court. The two nations seem to have crossed over and figured in; but as people that copy take the bad with the good, as well as the good with the bad, there was two days ago a great horse-race in the Plain de Sablon, between the Comte d'Artois, the Due de Chartres, Monsieur de Conflans, and the Due de Lauzun. The latter won by the address of a little English postillion, who is in such fashion that I don't know whether the Academy wUl not give him for the subject of an The Due de Choiseul, I said, is here; and, as he has a second time put off his departure, cela fait beaucoup de bruit. I shall not be at all surprised if he resumes the reins, as (forgive me a pun) he has the Reine already. Messrs. de Turgot and Malesherbes certainly totter — but I shall tell you no more till I see you ; for though this 264 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1775 goes by a private hand, it is so private, that 1 don't know it, being an EngUsh merchant's, who lodges in this hotel, and whom I do not know by sight : so, perhaps, I may bring you word of this letter myself. I flatter myself Lady Aylesbury's arm has recovered its straightness and its cunning. Madame du Deffand says I love you better than any thing in the world. If true, I hope you have not less penetration : if you have not, or it is not true, what would professions avaU? — So I leave that matter in suspense. Adieu ! Oct. 7. Madame du Deffand was quite well yesterday ; and at near one this morning I left the Due de Choiseul, the Duchesse de Grammont, the Prince and Princess of Beauvau, Princess of Poix *, the Marechale de Luxembourg, Duchesse de Lauzun, Dues de Gontaut 2 et de Chabot s, and Caraccioli, round her chaise tongue ; and she herself was not a dumb personage. I have not heard yet how she has slept, and must send away my letter this moment, as I must dress to go to dinner with Monsieur de Malesherbes at Madame de VUlegagnon's. I must repose a great whUe after all this living in company ; nay, intend to go very Uttle into the world again, as I do not admire the French way of burning one's candle to the very snuff in pubhc. Tell Mrs. Damer that the fashion now is to erect the toupee into a high detached tuft of hair, Uke a cockatoo's crest; and this toupie they call la physionomie — I don't guess why. Letter 1648. — l Anne Louise Gontaut, Due de Gontaut, Lieu- Marie de Beauvau, daughter of the tenant-General and Governor of Prince de Craon ; m. (1767) Philippe Languedoc. , Louis Marie Antoine de Noailles, s Probably Louis Marie Bretagne Prince de Poix, son of the Marechal Dominique de Rohan-Chabot (1710- de Noailles. 1801), Due de Rohan. 2 Charles Antoine Armand de 1775} To Sir Horace Mann 265 My laquais is come back from St. Joseph's, and says Marie de Vichy * has had a very good night, and is quite well. — PhiUp " ! let my chaise be ready on Thursday. 1649. To Sir Horace Mann. Paris, Oct. 10, 1775. I am stiU here, though on the wing. Your answer to mine from hence was sent back to me from England ; as I have loitered here beyond my intention ; in truth, from an indisposition of mind. I am not impatient to be in a frantic country, that is stabbing itself in every vein. The delirium stUl lasts ; though, I believe, kept up by the quacks that caused it. Is it credible that five or six of the great trading towns have presented addresses against the Ameri cans? I have no doubt but those addresses are procured by those boobies the country gentlemen, their members, and bought of the aldermen; but is it not amazing that the merchants and manufacturers do not duck such tools in a horse-pond? When the storm will recoil I do not know, but it wUl be terrible in all probability, though too late. Never shaU we be again what we have been ! Other powers, who sit stiU, and wisely suffer us to plunge over head and ears, wUl perhaps be alarmed at what they write from England, that we are to buy twenty thousand Eussian assassins, at the price of Georgia : how deep must be our game, when we pursue it at the expense of establishing a new maritime power, and aggrandize that engrossing throne, which threatens half Europe, for the satisfaction of enslaving our own brethren ! Horrible policy ! If the Americans, as our papers say, are on the point of seizing Canada, I should think that France would not long remain * The maiden name of Madame 5 Mr. Walpole's valet de chambre. du Deffand. Walpole. Walpole. 266 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 neuter, when she may regain her fur trade with the Cana dians, or obtain Canada from the Americans : but it is endless to calculate what we may lose. Our court has staked everything against despotism ; and the nation, which must be a loser, whichever side prevaUs, takes part against the Americans, who fight for the nation as well as for themselves ! What Egyptian darkness ! This country is far more happy. It is governed by benevolent and beneficent men, under a prince who has not yet betrayed a fault, and who will be as happy as his people if he always employs such men. Messieurs de Turgot and Malesherbes are phUosophers in the true sense, that is, legislators; but, as their plans tend to serve the public, you may be sure they do not please interested individuals. The French, too, are light and fickle; and designing men, who have no weapon against good men but ridicule, already employ it to make a trifling nation laugh at its benefactors: and, if it is the fashion to laugh, the laws of fashion wUl be executed preferably to those of common sense. There is a great place just vacant. The Marechal de Muy, Secretaire d'Etat pour la Guerre, died yesterday, having been cut the day before for the stone. The operation lasted thirty-five ages, that is, minutes ! Our Parliament meets on the 26th, and I suppose wUl act as infamously as it did last year. It cannot do worse, — scarce so ill, for now it cannot act inconsiderately. To joke in voting a civU war is the comble of infamy. I hope it will present flattering addresses on our disgraces, and heap taxes on those who admire the necessity of them. If the present generation alone would be punished by inviting the yoke, it were pity but it were already on their necks ! Do not wonder at my indignation, nor at my indulging it. I can write freely hence — from England, where I may 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 267 find the Inquisition, it would not be so prudent ; but judge of our situation, when an Enghshman, to speak his mind, must come to France ! and hither I will come unless the times alter. I had rather live where a Maupeou x is banished, than where he is Chief Justice 2- I know nothing of their Eoyal Highnesses3, nor have heard of them since they were at Strasburg. I wrote twice to Venice; and if they think me in England, and have written thither, I should have received the letter, as I did yours, unless it is stopped. I can give you no advice, but to act prudently and decently, as you always do. If you receive orders, you must obey them. If you do not, you may show disposition ; and yet I would not go too far. Even under orders, you may intimate concern ; but I would express nothing in writing. My warmth may hurt myseU, but never shaU make me forget the interest of my friends. Adieu ! 1650. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Oct. 17, 1775. Princess, in spite of fortune, fate, and chance, I'm once again return'd to you from France. I will not maintain, Madam, that this couplet is abso lutely stolen out of any French play, but it is so like the dibut of many of their tragedies, that I think it could not have come into my head if I had not remembered it. Whether it is Eacine's or not, it suits my purpose so exactly, that I could not help employing it, and I beg your Lady ship wUl believe the sentiment sincere, though couched in poetry. I wiU not quote VirgU for the circumstance of Lettee 1649 x Chancellor of Walpole. France. Walpole. * The Duke and Duchess of Glou- 2 Alluding to Lord Mansfield. cester. Walpole. 268 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 my journey, for I was much more terris jactatus than alto ; the roads were very rough, but the sea so smooth that it cost fifteen hours to pass from Calais to Dover, what wind there was being perfectly neuter. However, here I am, and as my motto says, ever yours, &c. P.S. My letter concluded so happUy, that though pro fessional and civil conclusions are totally out of fashion, I could not help ending there ; but to take off the formality, I add a few words; and to teU you I have bought your two bobbins and a bit of china; no, it is not come, but I hope will, and wUl be a great rarity : for to my sorrow I did not know that last year's Act, to favour the Bristol manufacturer, laid a duty of one hundred and fifty per cent. on French china, and I paid at Dover seven guineas and a half for a common set of coffee things that had cost me but five. As I came but this morning, I have not time to add more, though I would not let the newspaper have the pleasure of telling you that I was arrived. P.S. I left poor Mr. Crawfurd flayed alive, that is, his foot — I never saw so horrid a sight. The quack brought off the whole coat of his foot at once, and it looks like a leg anatomized and thrown on a dunghill ; yet the man had made him walk a mile on it the day before I set out. My Lord Lovat might as well have put on a cravat after his head was off. 1651. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 21, 1775. I could teU you, Madam, when the moon will change, but not when Mr. Crawfurd will set out. Poor soul ! I do not guess when he will be able ; but, perhaps, he will 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 269 attempt it for variety. However, pray write to him; it wiU be kind, and direct it to Mr. Panchaud. If your letter misses him, there will be no great harm, as I suppose you wUl not teU him any great secrets. For my visiting Ampthill just now, it is totally im possible. I have run strangely in debt to my own business, and find my hands full. I had left a purchase or two here unfinished. My poor sister, Mrs. Daye, is dead, and I have her affairs to settle. General Cholmondeley has made me one of his executors, and though I shall give up that charge, I must give it up, and must go to town to-morrow upon it. I have commissions from France to execute ; and, in short, have such a jumble of two nations in my head, that I want a few days of entire repose, before I shall get into my common sense again. Besides, come to AmpthUl ! Why is not your Ladyship coming to town ? I wiU not deUver a bobbin but in Seymour Place, nor make a visit farther out of town. 1652. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Oct. 23, 1775. This wUl be deUvered to you by Mr. Pars1, a painter, who is going to improve himself in Italy. He has already great merit, and has done several things for me, particularly washed drawings of Strawberry, of which he can talk to you very perfectly. This was his style originally. He executed an excellent volume full of them for Lord Palmer ston2, one of the Lords of the Admiralty, his protector. He has since taken to oU and portraits. Pray assist him as much as you can, particularly by strong recommendations Lettee 1652. — ! Mr. Pars died at ston. Mr. Pars had been in Switzer- ,Eomeinl782. Walpole. land with his Lordship to take views. 8 Henry Temple, Viscount Palmer- Walpole. 270 To fhe Bev. William Mason [1775 to Eome and Cardinal Albani8- Pray, too, make him do a view of Fiesole for me. He is very modest, sensible, and intelligent, and not mad, or I would not recommend him so strongly. I give him a letter to Sir WUliam Hamilton. 1653. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, Oct, 25, 1775. I am returned to my own Lares and Penates — to my dogs and cats; and was not a little edified by my journey. I saw a King who accords everything that is asked for the good of his people, and I saw two ministers, Messieurs de Malesherbes and Turgot, who do not let their master's benevolent disposition rust. The latter is attempting to take off corvees, that quintessence of cruel and ostentatious despotism, but the country gentlemen, that race of interested stupidity, will baffle him. Monsieur de Malesherbes, in the most simple and unaffected manner, gave me an account of his visitation of the Bastile, whence he released the prisoners, half of whom were mad with their misfortunes, and many of whom he could not find even the causes of their commitment. One man refused his Uberty: he said he had been prisoner fifteen years, and had nothing in the world left; that the King lodged and fed him, and he would not quit the BastiUe unless they would give him half his pension. M. de Malesherbes reported it to the King, who rephed, ' C'est juste,' and the man has fifteen hundred livres a year and his freedom. This excellent magistrate, who made my tears run down my cheeks, added that what the prisoners complained of most was the want of pen and ink. He ordered it. The demons remonstrated and said the s Cardinal Alexander Albani, and a great lover of virtu. He was youngest nephew of Clement XI also a friend to England. Walpole. 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 271 prisoners would only make use of the pen to write memo rials against the ministers ; he replied, ' Tant mieux.' He is going to erect a court of six masters of request to examine the petitions of those who demand lettres de cachet for their relations. Under the late Due de la VriUiere, his mistress, Madame Sabatin, had a bureau of printed lettres de cachet with blanks, which she sold for twenty-five louis apiece. When a great Scotch judge was last in France, at the restoration of the old Parliament, he said, ' If the ministers mean the good of the people, they are doing right, but if they regard the prerogative of the crown, very wrong.' What a dia bolical But ! Do not imagine these ministers wiU hold their places long ; they will soon be epigrammatized out of them. The first event since my return, after hearing of this gaol-deUvery, is Mr. Sayer 1 being sent to the Bastille ; but it is not the prisoners in this country that are mad, but the ministers. They have committed him for designing to steal the Tower and the King, he and one more ; and I suppose send them to New York ; not to Halifax, for that is gone, and Quebec too, and Boston by this time. So now we know what we have to do ; only retake aU America, which is very easy, from three hundred thousand cowards. 26th, Arlington Street. I had written thus far last night, as you perceive, and find your letter on my return, for which I would thank you more if you did not say such fine things to me. Pray never do any more ; I have no talent, nor anything else but taste for those who have, and that taste is almost a sinecure. If I had time I could increase your ' Kingstoniana ' with still better stories, but she is not worth one's while. I have Lbttee 1653. * A banker of bad swore that Sayer had offered him credit, arrested on a charge of high fifteen hundred pounds to assist him treason on the oath of an American in seizing the Tower and the King's officer named Richardson. The latter person. 272 To fhe Bev. William Mason [1775 but just a moment to ask if there is any chance of seeing you this winter, which would be a great comfort, and I am not young enough to put off my pleasures. Adieu ! Pray did you pay Mr. Peckitt ? Tell me that I may pay you or him. 1654. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, Oct. 27, 1775. I was at Strawberry Hill when your letter arrived, and could not thank you for it so early as I should have done if I had received it sooner. If my description of the Moulin Joli pleased you, it was from the circumstances of the place, for I neither describe weU nor recount well, nor have any original talent. I pretend to nothing but taste for talents, and that taste is almost a sinecure. I am returned because I wanted to be at home ; not that I was particularly charmed with France, or impatient to be in England ; but when one is old and has no particular business anywhere, methinks one is deplacd anywhere but chez soi. The Amor patriae burns in me no fiercer than love for my wife would, if I had one and she proved a shrew. I love the free con stitution of England more than the acres, and should wish better to California if it had the better form of government ; not but I can feel the pride of patriotism when my country is worth being proud of: when it sinks by its own foUy, I content myself with my citizenship of the world, and pray for that part that is most reasonable. I could improve your ' Kingstoniana ' if I had leisure ; the subject in truth is little worth it, but as superlative in its kind. My chief business with you is to know if I am likely to see you this winter. My pleasures grow dear to me because I have no long time to enjoy them, and cannot live on hopes. Though I still live in the world, most of 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 273 my hours are passed alone, because they are not passed with the few I love, and all the rest are perfectly in different to me. Old people are thought to have little affection : how is that possible, for they seem to like com pany to the last ? I should as soon think of taking leave of everybody if I was dying. Of my cotemporaries for whom I do not care, I have seen or known enough, or too much, and to converse with young people is like asking for the beginning of a story of which one is never to hear the end. With you I can never pass time enough, and alas ! pass very Uttle ; you are not, ought not to be so indifferent to the world as I am, and as you live more out of it, why should not you keep up a little acquaintance with it ? Your chief reason against coming is worn out by length of time, and other circumstances are such as to dispense with, the reiteration of the grievance. It would not be expected, and probably not desired ; I dare to say the coolness is sufficiently established. As I am in town you may expect to talk of what you wUl see so much in the newspapers, the commitment of Mr. Sayer ; but it appears to me so nonsensical a business, that I charitably conclude the ministers have some deeper scheme in view. They can never have sent a man to the Tower that they should have sent to Bedlam, if they do not want a pretence for greater strokes; or choose to be laughed at for this, rather than have the people find fault with something else. However, they have brought them-1 selves into such difficulties that I shall not wonder if they are puzzled which to prefer, and as it certainly is not genius that has led them into the scrape, it is not likely to help them out. Tell me what is more to my purpose, what you have' been doing. I am going to read Sterne's Letters. From Paris I have absolutely brought nothing at all: .my good. WALPOLE. IX T 274 To fhe Duke of Bichmond [1775 friend, Europe, is worn out ; perhaps genius may rekindle in America, but what is that to me ? Adieu ! P.S. I have run through a volume of Sterne's Letters, and have read more unentertaining stuff. The Duke of Grafton, Lord Lyttelton, and the Bishop of Peterborough1 divided yesterday with the opposition. Don't you think the ship is sinking ? Come and see. 1655. To the Duke of Eichmond. My dear Lord, Oct. 27, 1775. You have not been a very active opposition, but may plead in excuse that you could do no good. Now you can — or never. Give the ministers no respite. Press them with questions and motions, leave their poor heads no time to think of what they ought to think of, the next campaign. Call for papers. Don't mind being refused. Talk of their waste. Ask for pension lists, inquire after those scan dalous ones to the widows or wives of Bradshaw, Nuthall \ Fordyce. Lament the hard fate of the poor country gentle men who must pay for all this waste, and the enormous expenses of the war too. Inquire how much of the national Debt has been paid in twelve years — and how much the late Addresses have cost. Ask if 5,000?. has not been sent this year to bribe the Indians, who yet have not joined them. Ask what douceurs have been given to Scotch contractors. Ask what the CathoUcs in Canada have done in return for the restoration of their religion and the aboUtion of juries Letter 1654. — ' Dr. Hinchliffe. teen thousand pounds, and that his Letter 1655.— J Thomas Nuthall, widow had a pension of three hun- Solicitor to the Treasury ; he died dred pounds to induce her to give a few hours after being shot by up her husband's papers ; he had a highwayman on Hounslow Heath been engaged in many election in March 1775. Horace Walpole matters. (LastJournals,voLi. p. 496.) states that he had embezzled nine- 1775] To the Duke of Bichmond 275 —and will you not ask who was the author of that code ? Is aboUtion of juries part of the spirit of toleration ? WUl you not inquire whether Lord Dunmore 2 has not for these two years (before the Virginians took any part) endeavoured to involve them in a war with the Indians ? WUl you not ask whether they have not tried to raise Eoman Cathohcs in Ireland? Suppose you inquired what the prosecutions of Wilkes cost (above 100,000?.), and whether they intend (for the ease of country gentlemen) to lay out as much on Sayer. Will you not complain how long the half-pay was delayed, nor inquire into the expenses of the trans ports to Boston? WUl you not lament the hard fate of the soldiers forced to go against their countrymen, and then left without bark or bandages for their wounds, and with nothing but salt provisions ? WUl you not smile at Gage being recalled and made Generalissimo? In short, will you neither laugh nor cry, or will you leave them to laugh if you do not make them cry ? The Duke of Grafton and Lord Lyttelton see their difficulties — will you not make them feel them? Why did General Burgoyne desire to be recalled ? and why is he still employed ? Since the Prerogative Proclamation cuts off all intercourse, is Parlia ment to vote money in the dark ? WUl you not move to know whether Hahfax and Nova Scotia and Quebec are gone? Will you not complain of all intelligence being stifled, and the nation being kept in profound ignorance and delusion? Are there no petitions from the West Indian Islands? Shall not the good country gentlemen be let into their situation ? In short, my dear Lord, if you please, you may pelt and harass them with questions and delays, which they will attend more to than to America. Frighten them, or at least other people, with the French preparing to attack us in the East Indies. And pray ask s Governor of Virginia. T 2 276 To Sir Horace Mann [i775 whether the stocks have not been kept up by the trust- money in Chancery. I wUl engage to furnish you with motions and grievances to midsummer — and if you keep this and turn to it, you wUl not want subjects. Tell them of all their false promises and prophecies, not one of which has been fulfilled ; and do not forget Lord Hillsborough's breach of the King's faith. You have spirit and activity enough yourself, my Lord — breathe it into your friends ; and make them inquire whether the conciliatory commis sioners are gone, and what their commissions are ; and whether they expect the Americans wUl trust them, when the vile equivoeatory biU of conciliation last year Lord North himself could not carry till Wedderburn declared it was not meant in earnest ? — but is it not plain, by their having re course to it in the Speech, that they are already treating ? Nor is this the only falsehood in the Speech : they talk of foreign Powers offering them troops ; is begging being offered ? And if those foreign Powers are not Eussia, but little Hesse, &c, are those foreign Powers? I would even move to address, that if Eussians are sent, no post may be put into their hands — no matter for a negative being put ; it would get into the votes and spread jealousy. There, my Lord, is a plan for your campaign. I am very presumptuous ; but I wiU ask an account of it at the end of the session. I hope you are content with Mr. C.3 1656. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Oct. 28, 1775. As this letter will go to Paris by a private hand before it gets to the post, I shall not change the late free style of my letters, but speak my mind. Not having always the same opportunity, I shall be more circumspect both for your sake and my own. 8 Probably General Conway. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 111 At my return I found everything in great confusion. The ministers had only provoked and united — not intimi dated, wounded, or divided America. Errors in or neglect of execution have rendered everything much worse ; and at this instant they are not sure that the King has a foot of dominion left on that continent. Boston must be, if it is not, abandoned : Halifax, with a stand of seven thousand arms, artillery, &c, is taken \ — and well it might be ! It was guarded but by fifty men ! Canada is in equal danger, and the first letters are likely to say it is gone. The ministers say it wUl take sixty thousand men to reconquer America. They will as soon have sixty thousand armies. Whether they can get any Eussians is not even yet certain; and, as it is said they must buy them by ceding some post, it is not credible that the other European Powers will wink at that growing puissance becoming a maritime one. Distresses and difficulties increase every day, and genius does not burgeon in proportion. Before I teU you of the opening of the Parliament, I must treat you with a farce, which is contrary to the theatric rule. Whether they were frightened themselves, or meant to frighten others, two days before the meeting, the ministers cried out, ' A plot ! ' and took and committed to the Tower a Mr. Sayer, a banker of no great credit, and lately one of Wilkes's sheriffs. A young American officer of stiU worse character swore Sayer had tried to bribe him to betray the Tower; and, as if that was not trusting him enough, communicated his intention of seizing the King as he should go to the House. The ministers, as grave as they looked, could not keep anybody from laughing — no, though they trebled the Guards. In short, I have heard this morning that they have blundered in the warrant, just as they did in WUkes's, must release Sayer, and he wiU be at Lbttbe 1656 i This did not prove true. Walpole, 278 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 liberty, instead of being, as he ought to be, in Bedlam. Earl Eochford2 wUl be prosecuted in his room, instead of being shut up for a fool, as he ought to be. In both Houses the war was brisk and warm ; the Lords sat tiU eleven, and the Commons tUl four, and the court was galled, though it kept the field. In the former House the Lord Privy Seal Grafton deserted and fired on them ; so did the virtuous Lord Lyttelton*, whom they have so much tried to blanch ; but as they had only given him whitewash, not money to buy it, he is seeking to plunder from the other camp. In the Commons, Mr. Conway, in a better speech than ever was made, exposed aU their outrages and blunders ; and Charles Fox told Lord North that nor Alexander nor Caesar had ever conquered so much as he had lost in one campaign. Even his Lordship's friends, nay the Scotch, taunt him in public with his laziness. This is a sketch of the present situation : I think it will not mend abroad, and must grow more turbulent at home. France and Spain, by only feeding the war underhand, can baffle all our attempts ; and without their declaring them selves, we must exhaust our men, money, navies, and trade. These are the four trifling articles we pay for the old scheme of arbitrary power. When wiU the Kings of England learn how great they may be by the constitution ; how sure of ruin if they try to be despotic ? Cannot the fate of the Stuarts teach even the House of Hanover to have common sense ? In the meantime, if France has the sense to keep its present ministers4, it wUl soon be greater than ever. I could not have believed, if I had not seen with my own eyes, how very flourishing it is to what 2 The Secretary of State who com- * It had not ; Turgot was re mitted Sayer. Walpole. moved, and Malesherbes resigned. 3 Thomas, second Lord Lyttelton. Walpole, Walpole. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 279 it was four years ago. It is safe, too, in that country to indulge the people in plenty, ease, liberty ; for they who could admire even Louis Quatorze adored Henri Quatre ; but what signify commonplace reflections? Princes do not read my letters, but always forfeit their own greatness by listening to ministers who dip them in visions of power only to augment their own. A king might go to sleep and be happy, and let his people be so, if he had no ministers, who would abuse his authority during his nap. Adieu ! my dear Sir; I have not time or occasion to say more. I have given you a clue to my future letters, and you wUl not want to have notes to them. 1657. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Nov. 9, 1775. You say ironically, Madam, that I do not think at all about pohtics. I object to the expression, more than to the purport of that phrase, if you mean by it that I am eager. The truth is, I think too seriously on our present situation to be eager. Eagerness implies hopes — and I have none. I think this country undone, almost beyond redemption; Victory in any war but a civil one fascinates mankind with a vision of glory. What should we gain by triumph itself? Would America laid waste, deluged with blood, plundered, enslaved, replace America flourishing, rich, and free? Do we want to reign over it, as the Spaniards over Peru, depopulated? Are desolate regions preferable to com mercial cities? But if the provincials conquer, are they, like lovers, to kiss and be friends ? Who are the heroes, where are the statesmen, that shall restore us to the position in which we stood two years ago ? These reflections fill me with melancholy, not with ardour. My pride, as an Englishman, is hurt. I often go to France 280 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 without loving that country, and I know with indignation, I saw with indignation, that they exult in our blunders and absurdity. We have already saved them more than half the labour of the next war, and shall bring it on as soon again as it would have come. Then will the ministers triumph ? Then will begging another peace avail ? Perhaps I am foolish to feel all this. Young men that must live to see it would have reason to be hurt, if young men were so ill employed as to anticipate the vexations of age. I probably have little time to be witness to the humiliations that are approaching. Father Paul's1 esto perpetual was more the prayer of a good man, than of a wise one. Countries are but great families, that rise from obscurity to dignity and then degenerate. This Uttle island, that for many centuries was but a merchant, married a great fortune in the last war, got a title, grew insolent and extravagant, despised its original counter, quarrelled with its factors, kicked its plebeian wife out of doors, and thought, by putting on an old red coat, to hector her relations out of the rest of her fortune, which remained in their hands as trustees. Europe, that was jealous of this upstart captain's sudden rise, encouraged him in his folly, in hopes of seeing him quite undone. End of volume the first. The second part is in the press. News of to-day. — The Duke of Grafton dismissed. News of to-morrow. — Lord George Germaine, Secretary of State. No news. — Lord Lyttelton to have a place2. I have been in pain for the Duke of Gloucester; but as no account has come since last Friday, I flatter myself he is out of danger, his disorder being the same as he had Letter 1657.— 'Pietro Sarpi (1552- * That of Chief Justice in Eyre 1623j, known as Fra Paolo, the his- south of Trent. torian of the Council of Trent. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 281 before when last at Florence, and which would either have carried him off soon, or must have been stopped by the bark, as I trust it has been. But I am prepared against all events : time is a great philosophizes You say you augur so UI, Madam, that you wUl not be scandaUzed at the gravity of my letter. Mine take their complexion from the colour of the hour, and, as cheerfulness oftenest pre dominates in me, I shaU laugh again. It is very hard if they who are innocent of their country's ruin may not smile, as well as they who are guilty of it. I can conceive why Caesar should have cut his own throat, but I never understood why Cato did. 1658. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Nov. 14, 1775. Your letter, my dear Sir, of the 28th, which I received last night, is infinitely kind to me — but is that new ? We had not only been alarmed to the utmost about the Duke ', but remained ten days in that anxiety. Thank God ! yesterday a letter under his own hand dispelled all our fears, and he is so well as to be set out to Borne. I am very sorry you had received no orders for your behaviour, because it leaves the Duke room to think you might have done more than I hope you have done ; but your first duty is to the King ; you were my friend long before I had the honour of knowing his Eoyal Highness, and no attachments of mine can make me ever even wish that any friend of mine should act contrary to his duty. I am sure you have not ; and if the Duke should not be quite pleased with you, though I flatter myself he is too just not to weigh your situation, you must bear it with patience, and comfort yourself with having acted rightly. Lettee 1658. — 1 The Duke of Gloucester. Walpole, 282 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 Though I hear so much of it, I know not what to say of America. It is certain that the campaign has answered none of the expectations of the administration. It seems to be the opinion now that they will think of pacific measures. They have even talked in ParUament of treating. You may be sure that system would be agreeable to my politics ; but I doubt peace is not so near. The Parliament grants whatever is asked ; and yet a great alteration has happened in the administration. The Duke of Grafton has changed sides, and was turned out last Friday. Lord Eochford, too, has retired, though not out of humour ; and Lord Dartmouth has quitted the American province and taken the Privy Seal. Lord George Germaine is made Secretary of State for America, and Lord Weymouth has taken the southern province. Lord Ashburnham is to be Groom of the Stole, Lord Pelham Master of the Great Wardrobe, and Lord Lyttelton Justice in Eyre. The town is impatient to see whether this change of men implies any change of measures. I do not see why it should, for none of the new ministers have ever inclined to the Americans ; and I doubt whether the success of the latter will make them have a better disposition towards the present administration. They have felt their strength, and experienced how much less hurt we can do them than we imagined. If they have such ideas of independence as have been imputed to them, and as probably some ambitious men among them may have, we have done nothing to convince them that their plan is impracticable ; but for me, I own I know nothing, and all my conjectures may be wrong. We have scarce any other news. Madame Kingston has petitioned the House of Lords for her trial ; but they seem neither eager to acquit or condemn her. Nobody would mind the first, and she would not mind the second, as 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 283 it would go only to infamy, which she has shown she can digest. Orloff the Great, or rather the Big2, is here; and as proud of his infamous diamonds as the Duchess of Kingston herself. He dances gigantic dances and makes gigantic love ; but no conquests : yet he has quitted his post with honour, for the Empress has appointed two to supply his functions — I suppose they are Gog and Magog. Orloff talks an infinite deal of nonsense ; but parts are not neces sary to a royal favourite or to an assassin. I am rejoiced you are to have so much of your nephew, and that Lady Lucy is better. I long heartily for a little Man-n. You wUl ere long see Mr. Pars, a young painter, who is going to study at Eome. I had given him a strong letter to you. Poor man ! He has lost his portmanteau between Calais and Paris, and with it everything he had in the world ; yet he persists. Pray be kind to him for my sake and for his misfortune. He is very ingenious, and has taken to oUs. He was admirable in washed views, and has done several of Strawberry, of which he can talk to you by heart. Assist him too in recommendations at Eome as much as you can. He is particularly patronized by Lord Palmerston, one of the Lords of the Admiralty. So the Pretender is in a dying way ! and wants an heir ! — It is not a race of phoenixes. Sir Eoger Newdigate is at Eome,. and formerly would have been proud to be chief mourner at his funeral. You may imagine I shall not be quite easy till the Duchess * is delivered and weU. I trembled for her when the Duke was ill, as his death might have occasioned hers too. 1 The favourite lover of the Em- 8 The Duchess of Gloucester, press Catherine II. Walpole. Walpole. 284 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 1659. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Nov. 18, 1775. Be perfectly at ease and happy, our Lady ! for our Lord spoke with modesty, decency, dignity, sense, and conviction. He regretted being forced to. quit his friends1, though not so much as they regret his quitting them : aU this I firmly believe, for I know nothing of the matter, having gone out of town yesterday, and being but this minute returned. I do know he spoke, for he told me so himself when I caUed yesterday to leave your cup with him ; but as he is the last man in the world to commend himself, he would not tell me a syllable, but that he soon recovered the first awful moment of hearing his own voice in a dead sUence. I wiU answer for all the rest. He said his brother spoke charmingly, and Charles Fox better than ever. He made such a pathetic eloge of the two brothers that every feehng eye was in tears. I am going about the town to hear all their praises, but I must not expect them in some houses. Oh, notre dame, give us a son and heir ! I would vow a silver babe to Loretto, if that would do. 1660. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Nov. 23, 1775. As the two ladies must be very angry at Lord 0., I am not much surprised, Madam, that they impute his desertion to you. They must both think it a great reflection on a man's understanding to be governed by his wife ; and to charge it on your Ladyship is to depreciate him. In truth, when one can fix the blemish of madness on Mr. Crewe, Lstteb 1659. — x Lord Ossory and patrick, had left the court party, and his brother, Hon. Richard Fitz- declared themselves iu opposition. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 285 only to keep another nephew from making him a visit, one must have very little charity for one's neighbour. How ever, be easy, Madam ; I dare to say they wUl make Lord Ossory amends by offering to buy him off, and if they could disgrace him in that manner, they would perfectly forgive him. The speeches have given me additional pleasure, as I hear a third aunt, who is not displeased at them, was told (before they spoke) that they were men of no con sequence but from being her nephews. I hope they wUl keep up their own importance, or they wiU be swallowed up in Lord George's1 fame, who engrosses all tongues. He puts me in mind of some lines written by Lord Lansdowne, when prisoner in the Tower, in the same room where my father had been confined ; the last verse was, Some fall so hard, they bound and rise again. I think nobody can doubt of Lord George's resolution, since he has exposed himself to the artUlery of the whole town. Indeed I always believed him brave, and that he sacrificed himself to sacrifice Prince Ferdinand. I wish I could tell you anything but pohtics, Madam, politician as you are christened by your godmothers; but one hears nothing else. On Sunday night, indeed, I was singularly entertained at Monsieur de Guines's, who gave a vast supper to the Prince of Hesse and the goddesses most in fashion, as the Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Sefton, &c. We were twenty-eight at supper; but before it, a Monsieur Tessier2, of whom I have heard much in France, acted an entire play of ten characters, and varied his voice, and countenance, and manner, for each so perfectly, that he Lettee 1660. — 'Lord George imaging de former sa voix, naturelle- Germain. ment flexible, a lire tous les roles » ' M. Le Tessier, receveur general d'une piece, en leur donnant a chacun des fermes de Lyon, homme d'esprit, le ton de leur age et de leur carac- ayant la passion du theatre, et etant tere.' (Grimm, Correspondamce Liiti- comedien de la tete aux pieds, a raire, ed. 1831, vol. viii. p. 310.) 286 To the Bev. William Mason [i775 did not name the persons that spoke, nor was it necessary. I cannot decide to which part he did most justice, but I would go to the play every night if I could see it so acted. I have heard to-day that your Ladyship has not the sole honour of perverting Lord Ossory. I am said to be the serpent that whispered Eve ; and should be proud of it, if both imputations were not affronts to Lord Ossory's under standing, who will do me the justice to aUow that I had so much more respect for it, that I never had the impertinence of his angry friends to imagine he was to be led ; a civUity for which he is not much obliged to them. Nor do they know how very seldom I see him, though I am so much in his way wherever he goes. It is an additional reason for my wishing your Ladyship in town, that I should see him sometimes. My poor old Lady Blandford is dying 3 ; she fell down on Monday and broke her thigh — at 78 ! P.S. As I was going to seal my letter, I received your Ladyship's thanks for the cup, which indeed did not deserve that you should give yourseU so much trouble on purpose. You have always been so good to me, Madam, and I am so grateful that if my souvenirs were marked with cups, there would be many more than milestones from hence to AmpthUl. 1661. To the Eev. William Mason. Nov. 27, 1775. I thought it long since I heard from you. It is plain you did not forget me, for the first moment of an opportunity to show me kindness made you show it. Fortunately I had written to Lord Strafford the very day you wrote to me, and our letters passed each other, though without bowing. s She Uved till 1779. 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 287 I think it still more fortunate that I had not written sooner, because I like to be obliged to you. I had delayed because in truth I had nothing to say but what I thought ; and when my friends and I do not think alike, I prefer silence to contradiction or disputes, for I cannot say what I do not think, especially to my friends; to other people one can talk a good deal of nonsense, which serves instead of thinking. Your delay of coming displeases me, because what I wish, I wish for immediately. When spring comes, I shall be glad my joy was postponed, and I like better to see you at Strawberry than in town, especially when Strawberry is in its beauty : and as you and it are two chiefs of the few pleasures I have left, or to come, I am luxurious and love a complete banquet. What shaU I say more ? talk politics ? no ; we think too much alike. England was, Scotland is — indeed by the blunders the latter has made one sees its Irish origin, — but I had rather talk of anything else. I see nothing but ruin, whatever shall happen ; and what idle solicitude is that of childless old people, who are anxious about the first fifty years after their death, and do not reflect that in the eternity to follow, fifty or five hundred years are a moment, and that all countries fall sooner or later ! Naturally I fly to books : there is a finis too, for I cannot read Dean Tucker1, nor newspapers. We have had nothing at aU this winter but Sterne's Letters, and what are almost as nothingly — Lady Luxborough's. She does not write UI, or, as I expected, affectedly, like a woman, but talks of scrawls, and of her letters being stupid. She had no spirit, no wit, knew no events ; she idolizes poor Shenstone, who was scarce above her, and flatters him, to be flattered. A Lettee 1661. — l Josiah Tucker He published several pamphlets on (1712-1799), Dean of Gloucester, the American War. 288 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [17 75 stronger proof of her having no taste is, that she says coldly, she likes Gray's Churchyard well. In good truth the produc tions of this country and age are suited to its natives. Mr. Cumberland, the maker of plays, told me lately, it was pity Gray's letters were printed; they had disappointed him much. No doubt he likes Sterne's, and Shenstone's, and Lady Luxborough's. Oh, Dodsley, print away: you will never want authors or readers, unless a classic work like Gray's Life should, as Eichardson said of Milton, be ' born two thousand years after its time ! ' I approve your printing in manuscript, that is, not for the public, for who knows how long the pubUc will be able, or be permitted to read ? Bury a few copies against this island is rediscovered. Some American versed in the old English language will translate it, and revive the true taste in garden ing ; though he will smile at the diminutive scenes on the little Thames when he is planting a forest on the banks of the Oronoko. I love to skip into futurity and imagine what will be done on the giant scale of a new hemisphere ; but I am in little London, and must go and dress for a dinner with some of the inhabitants of that ancient metropolis, now in ruins, which was really for a moment the capital of a large empire, but the poor man who made it so outlived himself and the duration of the empire. 1662. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Dec. 4, 1775. I perceived I had not heard from your Ladyship for some time, but your sUence would not have occasioned mine, if I had known anything worth telling you. I have not the talent of my brethren, the gazetteers, who always learn a sheet full of news, whether anything happens or not ; but then they have a crop of debates. I believe 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 289 nobody in London knows so little of what passes in Parlia ment as I do. Mr. Ackland1 had run his head against Charles Fox a week before I heard of it. The town is beautified with fourscore knights, of new or old Scotia, in yellow ribbons, and yet I have not seen one of them. How should I see or know anything ? I seldom stir out of my house before seven in the evening, see very few persons, and go to fewer places, make no new acquaintance, and have seen most of my old wear out. Loo at Princess Amelie's, loo at Lady Hertford's, are the capital events of my history, and a Sunday alone, at Strawberry, my chief entertainment. All this is far from gay ; but as it neither gives me ennui, nor lowers my spirits, it is not uncomfortable, and I prefer it to being deplace in younger company. My greatest objec tion is, that it often makes me a very unentertaining corre spondent at Ampthill ; but this is almost as dull a season of the year as autumn. I would promise it should mend after Christmas, but happily you wUl be in town then, and I shall pass my time more agreeably, and have no occasion to write. I am very sorry Lady Holland is out of order ; I hope not at all seriously, and that you have no occasion to be in the least alarmed. The sale at Holland House will produce treasures. I did not go ; it would have been a horrid sight to me who have Uved there so much, but I hear the most common furniture has sold as dear as rehcs. There is another thing concerns me too, — Sir George Macartney's voyage to the Government of the Grenades. Letter 1662. — ' Major John Dyke against America, Mr. Ackland, his Acland (d. 1778), eldest son of Sir cousin, a hot Tory, warmly resented Thomas Acland, seventh Baronet, it, and said it was in fitter hands whom he predeceased: M.P. for than in those of men who had ruined Callington. He married a daughter themselves by the most scandalous of Fox's uncle, the Earl of Hchester. vices. This personality, unprovoked •In one of the debates on the militia, by any, gave offence. Fox replied: Charles Fox saying it was not fit to he confessed his errors, and wished be trusted in hands who could peti- he could atone for them.' (Last tion the King for pushing the war Journals, vol. i. p. 623.) WALPOLE. IX TT 290 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 There is nobody who is merely an acquaintance that I should regret more. He is extremely good-humoured, equal, con versable on all subjects, unaffected, and perfectly agreeable in great or small companies. Methinks it would be very just to write a Norfh Briton against Lord Bute for doing so little for his own son-in-law. It is a little late in my letter to express my grief for your Ladyship's — what disorder? You have not told me, only that it is a sort of influenza ; so I have a proportionate sort of concern. It would be very inconvenient to me to be much afflicted just now for anything, for the King of Prussia is dying. I would venture to rejoice even if I were his subject, for a worse Dionysius cannot succeed. Pray, Madam, tell the nymphs of AmpthUl that if I had a spark of imagination left it should be at their service ; but old people do nothing but tell old stories, far from inventing new. The only thing I would ever aUow myself to write more should be like Brant6me ; but as everybody's history in these days is written in newspapers or magazines, my trouble is luckily saved, and for anything else, it is a maxim of mine that old folks ought to do nothing at aU, for nothing becomes them. I am very strict to this rule, and, if I ever break it, set it down that I begin to dote. Tuesday. I have just sent to Lady Holland, who has had a good night, and is much better. 1663. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Dec. 8, 1775. I have received another kind letter from you, my dear Sir, about the Duke and Duchess. You are very good to inform me ; for though the Duchess's daughters ' send me general accounts, I know nothing directly, having received Letter 1663. — ' The Ladies Waldegrave. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 291 but a single letter from her Eoyal Highness since they set .out. I need not say, to you that I never had such an honour from the Duke. He, I do not doubt, is recovered, and will for some time be the better, as he was before, from so wholesome an Ulness. I cannot be so tranquU on her situation tUl after her dehvery. The greatness of her courage makes her support conflicts; but, perhaps, women of less resolution, who abandon themselves to fears, undergo less struggles. Your brother, I believe, is recovered, at least Mr. Croft thinks so. He is always lame, it is true, but his face stiU fresh and juvenile. You and I are wrinkled parchments to our elder brothers. They are Glastonbury thorns and bloom at their Christmas. I pretend to grow a Uttle fatter, but every other winter unravels me Uke Penelope's web. There is nothing new here, at least within the sphere of my knowledge. That circle is of slender extent, and does not intersect either that of the court or the other of the opposition : the secrets of neither reach me, who seek not to penetrate them. We have both martial and pacific symptoms. Commissaries2 are going with oUve-branches, and Acts of Parliament and regiments with daggers and swords. We seem to enrage America, as if it were a passionate man who is very sorry the moment his passion is over. The House of Commons sits eternally, though half of the usual number are gone out of town. I saw the Duchess of Beaufort the other night, who inquired much after you. You know her daughter 3 is soon to marry Lord Granby. Tell me truly, is or has the Gabrielli been a great singer? She has, at least, not honoured us but with a most slender low voice. Her action is just, but colder than a vestal's. 2 Lord Howe and his brother were appointed Commissaries. 3 Lady Mary Somerset. U 2 292 To the Bev. William Cole [1775 However, as you know, she carries the resemblance no further, and, consequently, is kept by a Mr. Piers, a very, rich gentleman of Yorkshire, who is so profuse to her, that I suppose she will be more capricious than ever. We import superannuated sirens, and spoU them more than the Italians can afford to do, who at least enjoy them young. That brave statue, Sir Charles Saunders *, died yesterday. The present -war has not yet furnished us with any recruit of heroes. A civU war used to be prolific — Europe is veiy much worn out. It is America's turn to be fruitful of genius. The last comet of this hemisphere, the King of Prussia, is on its return. A wit of last century, when conceits were in fashion, would have said that its blazing taU turned out, as some phUosophers have held, to be water, for he is dying of a dropsy. I care not of what ; the world will be delivered from one of its visitations. When Voltaire follows him, their meeting would make a good Dialogue of the Dead. I wUl not lengthen my letter when I have no more to say, for though we have an empire at each end of the world, and a war in both, they do not keep us in daily news ; and, what is much stranger, their metropolis, London, stagnates ; but it is generally so about Christmas and autumn: in February, March, April, and May, our pulses are very feverish. 1664. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry HUl, Dec. 10, 1775. I was very sorry to have been here, dear Sir, the day you called on me in town. It is so difficult to uncloister you, that I regret not seeing you when you are out of your own ambry. I have nothing new to teU you that is very old ; but you can inform me of something within your own « AdmiralandKnightoftheBath. He was remarkably taciturn. Walpole. 1775] To the. Bev. William Cole 293 district. Who is the author, E. B. G.1, of a version of Mr. Gray's Latin Odes into English ? and of an Elegy on my wolf-devoured dog, poor Tory? — a name you will marvel at in a dog of mine; but his godmother was the widow of Alderman Parsons, who gave him at Paris to Lord Conway, and he to me. The author is a poet, but makes me blush, for he calls Mr. Gray and me congenial pair. Alas! I have no genius; and if any symptom of talent, so inferior to Gray's, that Milton and Quarles might as well be coupled together. We rode over the Alps in the same chaise, but Pegasus drew on his side, and a cart-horse on mine. I am too jealous of his fame to let us be coupled together. This author says he has lately printed at Cambridge a Latin translation of the Bards ; I should be much obUged to you for it. I do not ask you if Cambridge has produced anything, for it never does. Have you made any discoveries ? Has Mr. Lort? Where is he? Does Mr. Tyson engrave no more? My plates for Strawberry advance leisurely. I am about nothing. I grow old and lazy, and the present world cares for nothing but pohtics, and satisfies itself with writing in newspapers. If they are not bound up and preserved in libraries, posterity wUl imagine that the art of printing was gone out of use. Lord Hardwicke has indeed reprinted his heavy volume of Sir Dudley Carleton's Dispatches, and says I was in the wrong to despise it. I never met with anybody that thought otherwise. What signifies raising the dead so often, when they die the next minute ? Adieu ! Yours ever, H. W. Letter 1664. — x Edward Burnaby lished various translations from Greene (d. 1788), at this time a Greek and Latin poets. brewer in Westminster. He pub- 294 To fhe Bev. William Cole [1775 1665. To the Countess of Ailesbury. Arlington Street, Dec. 11, 1775. Did you hear that scream ? — Don't be frightened, Madam ; it was only the Duchess of Kingston last Sunday was seven- night at chapel : but it is better to be prepared ; for she has sent word to the House of Lords that her nerves are so bad she intends to scream for these two months, and therefore they must put off her trial. They are to take her throes into consideration to-day ; and that there may be sufficient room for the length of her veU and train, and attendants, have a mind to treat her with Westminster Hall. I hope so, for I should like to see this comedie larmoyante ; and, besides, I conclude, it would bring your Ladyship to town. You shall have timely notice. There is another comedy infinitely worth seeing — Monsieur Le Tessier. He is PrevUle, and Caillaud, and Garrick, and Weston ', and Mrs. Clive, aU together ; and as perfect in the most insignificant part, as in the most difficult. To be sure, it is hard to give up loo in such fine weather, when one can play from morning till night. In London, Pam can scarce get a house till ten o'clock. If you happen to see the General, your husband, make my compliments to him, Madam ; his friend the King of Prussia is going to the devil and Alexander the Great. 1666. To the Eev. William Cole. Arlington Street, Dec. 14, 1775. Our letters probably passed by each other on the road, for I wrote to you on Tuesday, and have this instant received one from you, which I answer directly, to beg pardon for Letter 1665 — ' Thomas Weston (1737-1776), comedian. 1775] To the Bev. William Cole 295 my inciviUty, nay, ingratitude, in not thanking you for your present of a whole branch of most reputable ancestors, the Derehaughs— why, the Derehaughs alone would make gentle men of half the modern peers, English or Irish. I doubt my journey to France was got into my head, and left no room for an additional quarter — but I have given it to Edmondson, and ordered him to take care that I am born again from the Derehaughs. This Edmondson has got a ridiculous notion into his head that another, and much ancienter of my progenitors, Sir Henry Walpole, married his wife IsabeUa Fitz-Osbert, when sh" was widow to Sir Walter Jernegan ; whereas all the Old Testament says Sir Walter married Sir Henry's widow1. Pray send me your authority to confound this gainsayer, if you know any thing particular of the matter. I had not heard of the painting you tell me of. As those boobies, the Society of Antiquaries, have gotten hold of it, I wonder their piety did not make them bury it again, as they did the clothes of Edward I. I have some notion that in Vertue's MSS. or somewhere else, I don't know where, I have read of some ancient painting at the Eose Tavern. This I will tell you — but Mr. Gough is such a bear, that I shall not satisfy him about it. That Society, when they are puzzled, have recourse to me; and that would be so often, that I shaU not encourage them. They may blunder as much as they please, from their heavy President s down to the pert Governor Pownall, who accounts for everything immediately, before the Creation, or since. Say only to Mr. Gough, that I said I had not leisure now to examine Vertue's MSS. If I find anything there, you shall know, but I have no longer any eagerness to communicate what I discover. When there was so httle taste for MSS. which Letter 1666. — 1 This was the case. 2 Deau Milles. 296 To Dr. Percy [1775 Mr. Gray thought worth transcribing, and which were so valuable, would one offer more pearls ? Boydel brought me this morning another number of the prints from the pictures at Houghton. Two or three in particular are most admirably executed — but alas! it wUl be twenty years before the set is completed. That is too long to look forward at any age — and at mine ! — nay, people will be tired in a quarter of the time. Boydel, who knows this country, and still more this town, thinks so too. Perhaps there will be newer, or at least more fashionable ways of engraving, and the old wUl be despised — or, which is stUl more hkely, nobody wiU be able to afford the expense. Who would lay a plan for anything in an overgrown metropolis hurrying to its fall? I will return you Mr. Gough's letter when I get a frank. Adieu ! 1667. To Dr. Percy. Deo. 14, 1775. Mr. Walpole is extremely sorry he was out twice when Dr. Percy gave himself the trouble of caUing, and wUl have the honour of waiting on Dr. Percy next Tuesday at one o'clock if he wUl give leave. In the meantime Mr. Walpole (who is going out of town for two days) is very happy to oblige the Doctor and consequently the pubhc, with the use of Sir T. Wyat's Speeches : and will be as ready to lend the drawings of Lord Surrey and Sir Thomas, if the Doctor intends to give prints of them. Lettee 1667. — Not in C. ; now first printed from original in British Museum. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 297 1668. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Dec. 17, 1775. I am afraid the Pope wUl be shocked : matters go very ill with his friend the Duchess of Kingston. She pretended to tease the House of Lords for her trial, though privately soliciting against it. Lord Mansfield entered the lists as her knight ; and contended for a private hearing in the chamber of Parliament ; and treated the affair very lightly. This revolted the Chancellor1 ; and he drew her faihngs in very ungentle colours. A committee was appointed to examine precedents. Her Grace was alarmed ; went to St. James's Chapel at eight in the morning; and was delivered of a scream that roused all the palace. The obdurate Lords' committees proceeded. The tide was turned; and every body spoke all they knew : collusion between the Duchess and Lord Bristol, to impose on the Ecclesiastical Court ; money taken by the Earl ; perjury on both sides ; the register of their marriage torn out, which is felony ! a new certificate said to be forged : in short, nothing but a trial in Westminster Hall could satisfy justice and the public. Screams now ripened to madness ; and the Duchess begged a respite for two months. That was pretty long. Her physicians were sent for. Three appeared : and, though they would not, as she desired, say that she would be mad for two months, they did allow that she is troubled with a great alienation of mind: in proof of which she has written to the King, to remind him of his grandfather's and his own goodness to her ; hoping he would not abandon her in her distress; and begging a noli prosequi; which his Majesty wUl not grant her. The committee went on ; and have decided that she shall be tried in Westminster Hall : Letter 1668. — 1 Lord Bathurst. 298 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 and Lord Lyttelton, as bashful as herself, said that, as she could not pretend to chastity or modesty, there was no room for compassion. This hopeful young man, who, on being refused a place, spoke for the Americans ; and, in two days, on getting one, against them, being reproached with such precipitate changes, said that, with his fortune, nobody could suppose he thought of the value of the salary. What this heroie lady will attempt next is very un known. If she decamps, outlawry and forfeitures foUow. Laudanum she had recourse to formerly on an emergency. If she adheres to frenzy she must retire to a mad-house. If she braves her fate, I shall not wonder if she escapes. A fair one, more artful, but not of so high rank, nor patronized by a Chief Justice, has just fofled the law ; though nobody questions her guilt. This is a Mrs. Mar garet Caroline Eudd ; whose history would make as large a volume as Madame de Kingston's. She sent her lawyer a brief of which he could not make head or taU. He went to her for one more clear : ' And do you imagine,' said she, 'that I will trust you, or any attorney in England, with the truth of my story ? Take your brief ; meet me in the Old Bailey, and I will ask you the necessary questions.' At her trial, she did write sixty notes to him, and with such artful interrogatories, that she was acquitted ; and the whole court shouted with applause. I must tell you one more anecdote of Mrs. Eudd. Preparatory to her trial, she sent for some brocaded silks to a mercer ; she pitched on a rich one, and ordered him to cut off the proper quantity ; but the mercer, reflecting that if she was hanged, as was probable, he should never be paid, pretended he had no scissors ; but would carry home the piece, cut off what she wanted, and send it to Newgate. She saw his apprehen sion ; puUed out her pocket-book ; and giving him a bank note of twenty pounds, said, ' There is a pair of scissors.' 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 299 Such quickness is worth an hundred screams. We have no Joans of Arc, nor Catharines de' Medici; but this age has heroines after its own fashion: ay, and heroes too. Arts and sciences have not only travelled west, but north, too. Prodigious crimes can flourish in the most rigorous climates. Except poisoning the last Pope, Eome itself, the soil of Neros and Borgias, has not produced a murder worth sixpence these two hundred years. Atrocious genius is got to Berlin and Petersburg. In two or three cen turies, I suppose, there will be some horrible metropolis beyond the Atlantic, or under the South Pole : and, as the press disperses useful precedents, two or three kings and queens wUl find it suits their convenience to divide some territory, to which they have no title, near the Straits of Magellan. Arlington Street, 18th, Monday night. The first thing I heard to-day on coming to town made me think of writing another letter ; yet as this is written, and may divert you after some days when your mind is resettled, I let it go, but haste to tell you that what by your letter to-day you seemed to expect, is arrived : your brother * died on Saturday. I sent instantly to Mr. Croft to know the purport of the will. He sent me word it is in his hands ; that he understands he and Mr. Foote are executors, and that he is to carry it to Linton on Thursday. This will be a century to my impatience. It is what occupies me. I don't act the farce of condolence — you had not seen this brother these forty years ; he had little affec tion for you, and was not so amiable as to make tender and lasting impressions forty years ago. I am even glad you are prepared to expect unkindness, though I should be outrageous if he could or has done you any hurt. I hope you have kept his letter that you mention. If he has 2 Edward Louisa Mann. 300 To Thomas Astle [1775 attempted anything wrong, I do not believe it wiU be at all in favour of your nephew, but for his natural chUdren, though he had enough of his own to leave to them. I even hope that his vaunts were only to alarm your nephew and make him more economic. Yet if it hung by a point of honour, you will not wonder if I trust not to that, who found how little equity there was in a point of honour when my father died. However, you and your nephew must certainly defend your rights ; and as you are both absent, pray commission me to retain counsel for you both, or do anything else in my power : you cannot have a more zealous advocate. I have been so engrossed by this idea of injustice to you, that I have yet said nothing of what you may be sure sits next to it at my heart, the assurance that this event will at last bring you over, and that we shall meet again ! I flatter myself this thought delights you as much as it does me. I own it was the moment I always looked to. It was my comfort against the melancholy idea of our never meeting again. You must now come to your country — and, I trust, to your estate. 1669. To Thomas Astle. Sir, Dec. 19, 1775. I am much obliged to you, and return you my thanks for the paper you have sent me. You have added a ques tion to it, which, if I understand it, you yourself, Sir, are more capable than anybody of answering. You say, ' Is it possible that this instrument was framed by Eichard Duke of Gloucester ?' If by framed you mean drawn up, I should think Princes of the blood, in that barbarous age, were not very expert in drawing Acts of Attainder, though a branch of the law more in use then than since. But as I suppose you mean forged, you, Sir, so conversant in writings of that age, can judge better than any man — you may only mean 1775] To Thomas Astle 301 forged by his order. Your reading, much deeper than mine, may furnish you with precedents oi forged Acts of Attainder ; I never heard of one ; nor does my simple understanding suggest the use of such a forgery, on cases immediately pressing ; because an Act of Attainder being a matter of public notoriety, it would be revolting the common sense of all mankind to plead such an one, if it had not reaUy existed. If it could be carried into execution by force, the force would avaU without the forgery, and would be at once exaggerated and weakened by it. I cannot, therefore, con ceive why Eichard should make use of so absurd a trick, unless that having so little to do in so short and turbulent a reign, he amused himself with treasuring up in the Tower a forged Act for the satisfaction of those who, three hundred years afterwards, should be glad of discovering new flaws in his character. As there are men so bigoted to old legends, I am persuaded, Sir, that you would please them by communicating your question to them. They would rejoice to suppose that Eichard was more criminal than even the Lancastrian historians represent him ; and just at this moment I don't know whether they would not believe that Mrs. Eudd assisted him. I, who am, probably, as absurd a bigot on the other side, see nothing in the paper you have sent me, but a confirmation of Eichard's inno cence of the death of Clarence. As the Duke of Bucking ham was appointed to superintend the execution, it is incredible that he should have been drowned in a butt of malmsey, and that Eichard should have been the exe cutioner. When a seneschal of England, or, as we caU it, a Lord High Steward, is appointed for a trial, at least for execution, with all his officers, it looks very much as if, even in that age, proceedings were carried on with a little more formaUty than the careless writers of that time let us think. The appointment, too, of the Duke of Buckingham 302" To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 for that office seems to add another improbability (and a work of supererogation) to Eichard's forging the instru ment. Did Eichard reaUy do nothing but what tended to increase his unpopularity by glutting mankind with lies, forgeries, and absurdities, which every man Uving could detect ? I take this opportunity, Sir, of telling you how sorry I am not to have seen you so long, and how glad I shaU be to renew our acquaintance, especially if you like to talk over this old story with me, though I own it is of Uttle importance, and pretty well exhausted. I am, Sir, with great regard, Your obliged humble servant \ 1670. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Dec. 20, 1775. I could not write sooner, Madam, for though I certainly have as Uttle real business as any Christian in England, so it happens that nobody is more employed. On Monday and Tuesday I wrote eight letters, and one of them was of seven pages ; but it was a letter that I hope wUl save me a vast Lettee 1669. — 1 The following could he pretend that Act was not queries were appended by Walpole known when he declared him his to a copy of this letter sent by him heir? Would not so recent an Act to Cole : — being unknown have proved it a ' If there was no such Parliament forgery? And if there had been no held, would Richard have dared to such Parliament as that which forged forge an Act for it ? it, would not that have proved it a ' Would Henry Vii never have double forgery? The Act, therefore, reproached him with so absurd a and the Parliament that passed it, forgery ? must have been genuine, and existed, ' Did neither Sir T. More nor Lord though no other record appears. The Bacon ever hear of that forgery ? distractions of the times, the evident 1 As Richard declared his nephew insufficiency or partiality of the his- the Earl of Warwick his successor, torians of that age, and the interest would he have done so if he had of Henry VU to destroy all records forged an Act of Attainder of War- that gave authority to the house of wick's father? York and their title, account for onr 'If it is supposed he forged the wanting evidence of that Parlia- Act, when he set aside Warwick, ment.' 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 303 many. Sir Horace Mann's elder brother is dead, the estate comes to him, and I flatter myself that a regular correspondence of thirty-four years wUl cease, and that I shall see him again before we meet in the Elysian fields. Antiquaries write to me too. I hoped I had done with them, but they are still harping on my daughter, — the old story, Richard the Third. I laugh at them as civUly as I can, yet they return to the charge. Then I am mighty busy about Mariette's sale, where I have been so lucky as to ruin myself. I have got Madame d'Olonne ; Madame du Deffand says I have paid dearer for her than any of her lovers did in her Ufetime. Item : a little bust of Nie. Poussin's wife by him in terra cotta, and a book of portraits in the reigns of Francis I and Henry II, that belonged to Brantome, who has written the names ; and among them is Diane de Valentinois. It is droll that even Madame d'Olonne is en Diane. A few days before the sale the King of France offered 300,000 livres for the whole col lection : it was refused, and has not produced so much, though my correspondent, the auctioneer, says everything sold for three times what it was worth. You may imagine, Madam, I shall be in a fine taking till my old concubines arrive. You ask me what I think of the Earl of F and the Irish baroness? I answer, nothing; for I don't know who they are, unless they are Lord Farnham and Lady Cler mont1; and then I shah ask why they have stayed fifty years before they thought of one another ? For the other Irish baroness, Lady Luxborough, she had a mishap with Parson Dalton, the reviver of Comus, and retired to a hermitage on Parnassus, as she says herself. The seraphic Letter 1670. — T Frances (d. 1820), afterwards first Baron and Earl of daughter of Colonel John Murray ; Clermont. m. (1752) William Henry Fortescue, 304 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [1775 Duchess", her friend, was suspected to have chasse sur les memes terres, and so it is no wonder they were intimate as they agreed in eodem tertio. You ask me another question that I wish I could answer to my own satisfaction, and as gratefully as your Ladyship's goodness deserves: why I should not come to AmpthiU this Christmas? I might plead, if I wished only for a decent excuse, that I have promised, if I go anywhere, to go to Park Place ; or that Mr. Mann's death detains me, for he held our place 3 for Sir Edward * and me, and there is much to settle. But, alas ! there is a worse reason : I am not young enough to fly about in dark cold days, and have an inward foe, whom I dare not provoke and rouse ; and who, if in one of his moods, would make me as tiresome to my hosts as to myself. In one's latter days one must take care not to give one's friends anything but one's best moments, and yet, I don't know but with aU my prudent maxims, I may venture to come to you for a day or two. I have a vast mind, and a colt's tooth I see the discreetest of us never sheds. Don't expect me ; but Lord knows what may happen ! The newspapers, as soon as I could have done, told you what a fib the Gazette told about Canada on Saturday night. Faces, that are generaUy pretty round, lengthened to their shoe-strings on Sunday. On Monday evening the Cabinet determined to — seem to recover their spirits, and so though they believed every tittle of the inteUigence, they pretend not to believe a word of it. Lady Mary Coke, who is in no secrets, declaimed on the misfortune at Princess Amelie's, and said how dreadful it was for people to fall into the hands of people who tear people's eyes out ! I smUed : she 2 Frances Thynne, Duchess of Somerset. Dalton acted as tutor to her son. 3 In the Custom House. • Sir Edward Walpole. 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 305 grew more incensed, and said she was sure I was glad. I said I was comforted, as I heard they put people's eyes in again ; at least, I concluded so, as nobody has returned without his eyes. In good truth, I think we are pulling out our own eyes, and nobody seems to have a nostrum for putting them in again. The Duchess cannot be tried tUl February, for it is recol lected that Westminster Hall is a common into which all sorts of cattle must be admitted in term time. Lady Lux- borough has exhausted all artful conclusions of letters, so I wiU never more be your Ladyship's most devoted. P.S. They say Mrs. Eudd has been at the play in Lord Lyttelton's chariot. If the Duchess is acquitted, I suppose he wUl take her into keeping too, to show he is convinced of her virtue also, and wronged her innocence. 1671. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, Deo. 21, 1775. I shall make the impression of the seal to this letter as perfect as I can ; yet probably it wiU UI answer your purpose ', for it is only one of Wedgwood's antiques, and they are not very sharp ; you exercise, I find, aU your various talents, but the one I love the best in you. I should not say so much to everybody: a thousand pictures give me pleasure for one poem. Foote and you agree in convicting the Duchess of ebriety, and you both prove it equaUy well in different ways. Nay, she seems to aUow it herself, for she abandons insanity; Letter 1671. — * 'I wish in your my book presses, and I have sue- next favour . . . you would be pleased ceeded so tolerably that I think it to seal with a very clear impression will do when finished from a better of your antique sacrifice, for I have original.' (Mason to Walpole, Dec. 16, been painting from a very bad one 1775.) a figure in chiaro oscuro for one of WALPOLE. ix v 306 To the Bev. William Mason [ms intends, I hear, to rest her safety on pleading guUty, lest standing on her spotless innocence should drag to light too many crimes. Lord Mansfield has added one more to his own list ; his shameless protection of her. I never heard of the imperial title you mention2, nor believe it, indeed I know of no treaty. That foreign troops have been treated for is certain ; if any are obtained, I am not in the secret. In the meantime the empire is shrunk to as narrow limits as that of the Holy Eoman Empire ; which when it had nothing left but one eagle made it into two, by splitting it, as cooks serve a pigeon. By this time Canada probably is no part of the imperial dominions ; unless Lord Dunmore has transported it on board his own government and ship8, where he pretends to have imprisoned one of the provincial deputies, who to-day's papers say never existed — unless by your hypothesis of alphabetic identity, one man may become another. That many men do become other men, I see every day, and so entirely other men, that they retain none of the blushing shame of their original nymphood, when they become butterflies. I felt Mr. Cumberland's folly so much, that his imperti nence was lost on me. He has written an Ode, as he modestly calls it, in praise of Gray's Odes ; charitably no doubt to make the latter taken notice of. Garrick read it the other night at Mr. Beauclerk's, who comprehended so little what it was about, that he desired Garrick to read it backwards, and try if it would not be equally good ; he did, and it was. I came in just afterwards ; and the conversation continuing, Garrick said, with aU the candour he could affect, 'I wonder at it, but people cry down Mr. Mason's Life of a That of 'sovereign of tho grand * The man-of-war Fowey, to which American empire.' Mason had been Lord Dunmore withdrew in June told that George III had so styled 1775, in consequence of the riots and himself in a treaty for obtaining disaffection in Virginia, where he foreign troops to be employed in the was Governor. American war. 1775] To the Bev. William Mason 307 Gray extremely; I really think it very ingenious.' I made him no more answer than he deserved. I broke through this rule two days ago on a new impertinence to myself. In the Paper Office there is a wight, called Thomas Astle, who lives like moths on old parchments. It was he who lent me the Coronation Boll, and to whom I communicated my book on Richard III, to every tittle of which he agreed. Some of the moths his commensales remonstrated to him I suppose, that he had fouled his own chrysalis by helping to unravel an intricate web. From that time I never saw him ; on Monday he sent me a printed copy of the Act of Attainder of George, Duke of Clarence (which corroborates remarkably one of my arguments), but which he not per ceiving, very impertinently added a quaere, which implied I had been in the wrong. The quaere itself was so absurd that I could not deny myself the pleasure of laughing at him and his councU. I send you a copy of my letter* as the shortest way of explaining what I have told you, and because I conclude the foolish Society of Antiquaries wUl be convinced he had guessed happUy, and that we shall have a new dissertation against me in the next volume of the old women's logic, as I call the Archceologia. I have reserved two or three more arguments, with which they shall be treated if they do attack me again, but with which I would not trust Astle, lest any one of the body should have sense enough to see their folly and stop them. You must excuse me, but some time or other I am determined to pubUsh aU my answers. I am offended for the honour of Eichard's understanding, that all they charge him with tends to represent him as a drivelling fool, though indeed such are their understandings that they mean to prove he was an able knave. * The letter to Astle already printed. X 2 308 To John Bdbinson [1775 Fools! yes, I think aU the world is turned fool, or was born so ; cette tete a perruque, that wig-block the Chancellor, what do you think he has done? Burnt all his father's6 correspondence with Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, &c. — why do you think? because several of the letters were indiscreet. To be sure he thought they would go and publish them selves, if not burnt, but indeed I suspect the indiscretion was that there were some truths which it was not proper to preserve, considering considerandis. That is just what I should like to have seen. There was otherwise so much discretion, and so httle of anything else except hypocrisy in all the letters of those men that have appeared, that I should not so much regret what discreet folly has now burnt. Apropos, did I ever tell you a most admirable bon mot of Mr. Bentley? He was talking to me of an old devout Lady St. John, who burnt a whole trunk of letters of the famous Lord Eochester, 'for which,' said Mr. Bentley, 'her soul is now burning in heaven V The oddness, confusion, and wit of the idea struck me of aU things. I wish you good night. 1672. To John Eobinson1. Sir, I have but this minute received the honour of your most obliging letter,, and do not lose a minute in answer ing it 2. It is impossible to be more sensible than I am of Lord « Allen, first Earl Bathurst. The from Lord Orford's Works (1798), letters from Pope were not destroyed. vol. ii. pp. 884-5. 6 Lord Rochester's mother is prob- J Secretary to the Treasury. ably the person referred to — Anne, 2 Robinson's letter was written in daughter of Sir John St. John, first consequence of representations from Baronet ; m. (1) Sir Henry Lee, the Commissioners of Customs, who second Baronet, of Ditchley; (2) were embarrassed by the absence Henry Wilmot, Baron Wilmot, after- from England of Sir Horace Mann, Wards first Earl of Roohester. the suocessor of Edward Mann as Lettee1672. — NotinC; reprinted Deputy Collector of Customs Inwards. 1775] To John Bobinson 309 North's goodness, and I must beg you, Sir, to express my gratitude to his Lordship, as I shall have the honour of doing in person. His Lordship's condescension to me is as flattering as unmerited ; and the only way I can at all pretend to deserve it is by doing what I ought ; that is, as far as the case regards myself, prefer the pubhc service to myself, and submit myself in the care of that interest to his Lordship's wisdom: at the same time having so just a sense of the duty of gratitude, that I think myself equally obUged by a kind offer, whether accepted or declined. The Collectorship of the Customs is an office of such importance, that my family or I, who have received such favours from the government, ought to be the first to take care that the public suffers no detriment in an office in which we are concerned. I, it is true, have a great, though a temporary, interest in that office, but it is my brother, Sir Edward, in whom it is vested for his life ; and therefore I flatter myself that both Lord North and you, Sir, wiU consider my answer as only regarding myself; for though I am persuaded that my brother has the pubhc service full as much at heart as I have, I must not take upon me to answer for him about an office that virtually and ultimately rests in him. For myself I am persuaded that I cannot serve the public more essentially than by waiving my own interest entirely, and referring the whole disposition of the present difficulty to Lord North's discretion, and submitting myself entirely to what he shall direct. The situation of the office by the absence of Sir Horace Mann is certainly extremely momentous, and ought not to remain precarious ; therefore, I beg very respectfully and gratefuUy too, that I may not be considered for an instant, but that his Lord ship will give orders for the security of the office in whatever manner he thinks fit, till Sir Horace can come over and 310 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 accept it ; and whatever his Lordship shaU determine wUl be cheerfully acquiesced in by, Sir, His Lordship's and your most grateful And most obedient humble servant, Arlington Street, Dec. 25, 1775. HORACE WALPOLE. Postscript. Sir, I was so convinced that my brother Sir Edward prefers the service of the pubhc to his own interest, at least as much as I do, that I deferred sending my immediate answer till I had communicated it to my brother; and he authorizes me to say that he submits himself entirely to Lord North's arbitration for the safety of the office till Sir Horace Mann can be admitted to it according to the intention of the patent. 1673. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Deo. 26, 1775. It was very vexatious to be delivered from my own anxiety about you on Saturday last, and not to be able to remove your suspense till Tuesday. I hope, however, that the conclusion of my last week's letter diminished your apprehensions of being wronged. I now confirm you in, and invest you with, your own estate. If your good- natured mind chooses to thank your brother for it, you may — for my part I don't believe a word of his having had power to deprive you of it — unless by some dishonourable flaw, which a generous mind would not think gives power. If he has done you justice, there is not a grain of benevolence thrown into the scale; for having (I don't know what he calls) laid out six thousand pounds on the estate, he leaves you charged with two hundred and sixty pounds annuity in 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 311 Ueu of it. When one makes use of such a fraction of power, I do not much believe in the greatness of mind that resisted a greater temptation. Well, Linton is yours, and you are now your own master ; I say nothing of particulars ; there are few, and Mr. Croft1 tells you them. Your nephew Sir Horace is not named in the wUl ; the daughter was the object, and during her mother's Ufe wiU have more than her brother. Croft thinks they wUl have 35,000Z. apiece ; I should think more. He calls your estate 1,500?. a year ; I hope it is more ; at least by an old rent roll made thirty years ago, it was then 1,200?. a year, and probably has risen or been increased above a fourth since that. If you have been impatient for this letter, how anxious must I be too for your answer to my last ! But you cannot hesitate to take possession of your estate, to see your country again after an absence of forty years, to see a sister you love, and friends I think you love too. Why do I doubt? I wUl not — I will flatter myself that you wUl fix here. Such long, faithful, and laborious services as yours cannot remain unrewarded. Sir James Porter8, not so ancient a servant as you, has a pension of 1,000?. a year. Lord Sandwich and Mr. Mackenzie have always been your protectors; and if you have not made many other friends, never were amiable qualities so thrown away for forty years together — but what the deuce am I doing ! Why do I doubt your coming ? Since I wrote last, public affairs are grown much more serious, and unpromising of any good issue. General Carleton has been beaten by the provincials3, St. John's has surrendered to them, Quebec has probably 4 faUen into their hands, with the whole province of Canada. You may Letter 1673. — 1 The solicitor em- an attempt to relieve St. John's, ployed. Walpole. which capitulated on Nov. 8, 1776. 2 Who had been minister at Con- * The Americans laid siege to stantinople. Walpole. Quebec in December, but it was not 3 General Carleton had failed in taken by them. 312 To Sir Horace Mann [i775 call your neighbour the Pope an ungrateful old whore, for the Canadians joined the provincials. All this is certain ; the rest seems to be credited ; that our ships are destroying all the towns on the coast. This is horrible ! and that the King's army could not stay in Boston, but was meditating retreat to HalUax. I don't at all warrant the last article of the bUl of fare ; but I may well say I see no prospect of good. Seeds of the last inveteracy sown ! a whole continent to be reconquered ! What lives, what money to be squan dered ! What damages, what breaches to be repaired ! And reconcUiation, how to be effected ? by victories on our side, or on theirs? France is straining every nerve to repair their losses ; we, every one to weaken ourselves ; and weak we are to such a degree, that I hope France does not know it. Come and see us before it is worse. The King referred to the Attorney-General the Duchess of Kingston's petition for a noli prosequi, and it was argued at the chambers of the Attorney. How many counsel do you think she had retained for that single preliminary ? — a mob — only fourteen. She must be in a mortal panic ; and the noli prosequi wUl not be granted. She has resumed her senses. The trial is fixed for the end of February. Madam of Babylon 6 and her Canadians are not in good odour ; nay, I should not wonder if, hke Jane Shore's friend Mrs. Blagrave, the old harlot should appropriate the entrusted jewels to her own use, when the Duchess is standing in a white sheet. My last letter was so voluminous that it must compensate for this. How I long to have our correspondence finish ! Your next, I conclude, will mention the passage of the Duke and Duchess ° through Florence. Adieu ! 6 The Pope, in whose custody the Duchess of Kingston was said to have left her valuable effects at Rome. Walpole. 6 Of Gloucester. Walpole. 1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 313 1674. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Dec. 27, 1775. Fresh, very fresh news ! General Carleton is not come, but General Burgoyne is, though not yet landed in town. He is to bring very good accounts from Boston ; but as he does not yet know what till he is told by those he is to tell, and as I am too scrupulous to send any news before it is born, you wUl excuse my mentioning the particulars. We beheve Quebec is perfectly safe, though we know to the contrary. Adam Smith told us t'other night at Beau- clerk's, that Major Preston, one of two, but he is not sure which, would have been an exceUent commander some years hence if he had seen any service. I said it was pity the war had not been put off till the Major should be some years older. Lord Granby was married last night. He is selling an estate of 3,000Z. a year that came to him by his mother1, to pay his father's debts. I am afraid he wiU never sell himself. Here are some verses of Soame Jenyns, that, in our present want of comfort, we admire very much, for we are out of spirits, and so was the poet, too, when he wrote the last stanza, which is insufferably bad. Pray return the piece, for I have no copy, and my amanuensis is in the country. There are some better verses 2 by Dean Barnard 3, of which I wUl procure a copy U I can. They are an answer to a gross brutality of Dr. Johnson, to which a properer answer would have been to fling a glass of wine in his face. I have Letteb 1674. — 1 His mother was Hill's edition of Boswell's Life of a daughter of the ' proud ' Duke of Johnson, vol. iv. pp. 431-3, App. A. Somerset, and his father the popular s Thomas Barnard, D.D. (1728- Marquis of Granby. 1806), Dean of Derry, 1769-80; 2 The verses do not appear. They Bishop of Killaloe, 1780-94 ; Bishop are to be found in Dr. Birkbeck of Limerick, 1794-1806. 314 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [ms no patience with an unfortunate monster trusting to his helpless deformity for indemnity for any impertinence that his arrogance suggests, and who thinks that what he has read is an excuse for everything he says. I told you, Madam, I might be busy if I would. I am so whether I wiU or not. The absence of Sir Horace Mann has embarrassed me, as he is not here to be admitted to the place which his brother held by patent for my brother and me. It involves me with the Treasury, but as I am the most respectful and cheapest person they can deal with, I have submitted everything to them, and only begged they wUl give me nothing for my pains, — which wiU content me at least. I shall go to Strawberry to-morrow, unless I hear their pleasure ; and have told Mr. Fitzpatrick that I think of meeting him next week at AmpthUl ; but I don't tell your Ladyship so, for indeed I know nothing of the matter. Just at present I suppose I am the vainest creature in the universe. Lady Di has drawn three scenes of my tragedy, which if the subject were a quarter as good as the drawings, would make me a greater genius than Shakespeare, as she is superior to Guido and Salvator Eosa. Such figures ! such dignity ! such simplicity ! Then there is a cedar hanging over the castle, that is more romantic than when it grew on Lebanon ! Oh, if Lord Ossory has a farthing in the world to spare, he may buy a Madonna and ChUd, by Vandyke, at Christie's, for four thousand guineas, for which I would not give four hundred if I were as rich as General Scott. It is a fine picture, and yet I believe Vandyke was the father no more than Joseph. 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 315 1675. To Sir Horace Mann. Yotj must come to your friends; you cannot care for foolish Florentines, and weary you must be of travelling boys and their hoggish governors. Your sister Mrs. Foote is most amiable ; Mr. Foote is good and reasonable ; you Uke your nephew and Lady Lucy — here are relations and family for you, and I will think you wish to see me. The journey (not tUl winter is gone) wiU do you good ; and if the climate should not equal that of Italy, you can but return. Come you must ; it is impossible you should hesitate. I shall go to Mr. Croft to-morrow, and if it is possible get him to send me an account of the wUl on Thursday, that I may receive it on Friday in time to write to you that night ; though perhaps it may not be opened early enough on Thursday for him to save the post. If you do not hear from me tUl by Tuesday's post, you wiU conclude it was out of my power ; and you must bear this suspense as calmly as you can. I would not have written under so much uncertainty, if your brother's death had not already appeared in the papers ; and I would not fail to tell you as early as anybody. I began my letter with trifling news, and have suffered you to read three pages of it, though an event of such importance awaited you. I wiU finish with pubhc news more serious than the adventures of the Duchess-Countess. The ministers received an account last night from Governor Tryon, that the provincials under Montgomery Letter 1675. — Not in C. ; now first ' The following was part of the fore- printed from transcript in possession going [the letter to Mann of Dec. 26, of Earl Waldegrave. At the begin- 1775], but may be reckoned a new ning of the letter is the following letter, though by mistake I had note in Horace Walpole's writing : — thought a first part wanting.' 316 To Sir Horace Mann [1775 had entirely defeated General Carleton, cut to pieces aU his Highlanders, and some say have taken the General himself1. Montgomery then summoned the commander of St. John's to surrender that place, as it would be in vain to hold out. The commander believed him and gave it up. It is supposed that Montreal and Quebec wUl soon follow. This is a great blow and wUl not be compensated by Lord Dunmore's having seized one of the deputies of the Congress, taken some old privateer cannon, and put to flight 200 provincials, he having but eighty men. How ever, a body of people, calling themselves Eegulators, in Carolina, who are at war with the provincial governments, have promised assistance, if any of the King's forces make a descent. This I believe is a great motive to an armament going hence in two or three days to Virginia under Lord Cornwallis. I, who am no very good judge, have always thought the American war would be of long duration ; and if 200 have run away, the army besieging Boston and the body under Montgomery (an Irishman) have shown some spirit. A new biU now passing for destroying their ships will add new fuel to their rage ; and the commissioners for treating of peace, who are still talked of, will not find their minds in good temper, when provoked on one hand, and victorious on the other. How happy for us, that other countries aUow us to prosecute our own quarrels at our ease! I revert to you and your affairs, my dear Sir ; they are uppermost in my thoughts — yet there is so much selfishness in them, that I have but half merit in being impatient to send you the best news. I never named it to you, because it was not right or decent, but your brother was never veiy UI, without my indulging a secret hope of seeing you again. It is one in the morning, and I 1 That part did not prove true. Walpole, 1775] To Sir Horace Mann 317 must go to bed, but I shall certainly dream you are come. Tuesday, 3 o'clock. I have been with Mr. Croft, and he has given me great satisfaction, though the wUl will not be opened tiU Friday morning, as your sister has summoned your nieces and their husbands to be present. I hinted darkly at your late brother having had some notion of the estate being in his power — 'Oh, Sir,' said Mr. Croft, 'Mr. Mann was a prodigious honest man, and would not do anything wrong: he told me he could cut off the entail, but he would not, as it seemed to be his father's intention that it should go according to the entaU ' — to be sure he did ; but I said nothing : I saw Mr. Croft did not understand the case, and I did not want to furnish an executor with any ill-founded difficulty. I begged he would write me a Une as soon as he could — 'Sir,' said he again, ' I dare to say Mr. Mann has given everything of his own, except a few legacies, to his two children ; indeed I advised him to it, especially to the young lady, who is very deserving.' ' Sir,' replied I, ' I do not desire to know any particulars but about the estate, which I wish to be certain is to go to the two Sir Horaces. I have nothing to say against anything else that Mr. Mann may have thought proper to give to his children. I have always thought that when people have brought children into the world, they ought to make them as happy as they can, especiaUy natural children, on whom they have heaped disadvantages.' ' You may depend upon it,' said Mr. Croft, 'that the entaU is not cut off.'— StUl I shaU not be completely satisfied, my dear Sir, till I know it is yours without any trouble. You wiU smUe perhaps at my suspicion, but as the boy is unhealthy, I conclude Mr. Croft intends to marry the girl to some relation of his own. This is only between you 318 To fhe Bev. William Cole [1776 and me ; aU the rest you may communicate to your nephew. Adieu ! my mind is much more at ease than it was. 1676. To the Eev. William Cole. Jan. 26, 1776. I have deferred answering your last letter, dear Sir, till I cannot answer with my own hand. I made a pU- grimage at Christmas to Queen's Cross, at AmpthiU, was caught there by the snow, imprisoned there for a fortnight, and sent home bound hand and foot by the gout. The pain, I suppose, is quite frozen, for I have had none ; nothing but inflammation and swelling, and they abate. In reality, this is owing to the bootikins, which, though they do not cure the gout, take out its sting. You, who are stiU more apt to be an invaUd, feel I fear, this hyper borean season ; I should be glad to hear you did not. I thought I had at once jumped upon a discovery of the subject of the painted room at the Eose Tavern, but shaU not plume myself upon my luck tUl I have seen the chamber, because Mr. Gough's account seems to date the style of the painting earlier than will serve my hypothesis. I had no data to go upon but the site having belonged to the famUy of Tufton (for I do not think the description at all answers to the taking of Francis I, nor is it at aU credible that there should be arms in the painting, and yet neither those of France or Austria). I turned im mediately to Lord Thanet's pedigree, in Collins's Peerage, and found at once an heroic adventure performed by one of the famUy1, that accords remarkably with the principal circumstance. It is the rescue of the Elector Palatine, Letteb 1676. — 1 Hon. George wounds received in the encounter Tufton, sixth son of second Earl mentioned by Walpole. of Thanet. He died in 1670 from 1776] To the Bev. William Cole 319 son of our Queen of Bohemia, from an ambuscade laid for him by the Duke of Lorrain. The arms, or and gules, I thought were those of Lorrain, which I since find are argent and gules. The argent indeed may be turned yellow by age, as Mr. Gough says he does not know whether the crescent is red or black. But the great impediment is, that this achievement of a Tufton was performed in the reign of Charles II. Now in that reign, when we were become singularly ignorant of chivalry, anachronisms and blunders might easily be committed by a modern painter, yet I shaU not adhere to my discovery, unless I find the painting correspond with the style of the modern time to which I would assign it ; nor wiU I see through the eyes of my hypothesis, but fairly. I shall now turn to another subject. Mr. Astle, who has left me off ever since the fatal era of Eichard III, for no reason that I can conceive but my having adopted his discovery, which, for aught I know may be a reason with an antiquary, lately sent me the attainder of George, Duke of Clarence, which he has found in the Tower and printed ; and on it, as rather glad to confute me and himself, than to have found a curiosity, he had written two or three queries which tended to accuse Eichard of having forged the instrument, though to the instrument itself is added another, which confirms my acquittal of Eichard of the murder of Clarence — but, alas! passion is a spying-glass that does but make the eyes of foUy more blind. I sent him an answer, a copy of which I enclose. Since that, I have heard no more of him, nor shall, I suppose, tiU I see this new proof of Richard's guilt adopted into the annals of the Society, against which I have reserved some other stigmas for it. Mr. Edmonson has found a confirmation of Isabella Fitz-Osbert having married Jernegan after Walpole. I 320 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 forget where I found my arms of Fitz-Osbert. Though they differ from yours of Sir Eoger, the colours are the same, and they agree with yours of WUUam Fitz-Osborne. There was no accuracy in spelling names even till much later ages ; and you know that different branches of the same family made Uttle variation in their coats. I am very sorry for the death of poor Henshaw2, of which I had not heard. I am yours most sincerely, H. W. P.S. The queries added to the letter to Mr. Astle were not sent with it ; and, as I reserve them for a future answer, I beg you wiU show them to nobody. 1677. To Sir Horace Mann. Jan. 28, 1776. I am in so much haste now to have our correspondence end, that I no longer love even to write you a letter. My impatience to hear that you think of coming over is extreme — think of it ! — I mean, to hear that you have fixed the time. Surely you can think of nothing else. Old Knight, the cashier1, used to come once a year to Calais to look at the cliffs of England. You are not banished, as he was, but have been much longer absent. I wUl forgive any imprudence of impetuosity to come ; take care I hear of no coldness. I am almost afraid to frighten you with an account of our winter ; but then it is such a winter as I never saw. I was with you at Florence in 1741, and those ever since have been springs, and sometimes summers. This was made for the North Pole, has lasted three weeks, ! A young engraver. son was created Lord Luxborough, Lettee 1677. — ' Robert Knight, and afterwards Earl of Catherlogh, cashier of the South Sea Company and had an only son, who died before in the memorable year 1720. His him, without issue. Walpole. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 321 and grows every day worse and worse. It caught me at Lord Ossory's2, in Bedfordshire, and locked me up there above a fortnight. At last it gave me the gout in both hands, on which I set out directly for London through mountains of snow and quarries of ice. I am still con fined, though I have had very little pain ; yet I write with difficulty, and iU-humour too, for I expected no gout this year. By your silence, though you mention them at Eome, I find their Eoyal Highnesses my nephew and niece did not pass through Florence, for which I am not sorry. I have had a letter from the Duchess, who tells me the Pope has been a perfect knight-errant in courtesy and gallantry, and enjoined all manner of attentions to them from his college and nobility. It is not he that sent it to me, but I have had a red hat given to me to-day — it was Cardinal Wolsey's3. I am impatient to hear the result of Lady Orford's audience. I did not imagine she would ask it, as she was not content with the Duke4 when he was last at Florence : I suppose she is proud of her The trial of the late Pope's friend, the Duchess of Kingston, is put off till April. The government is straining every nerve to muster a great army in America, though it must combat for its very landing. Fifteen thousand Hessians and Brunswickers are retained. This force, if half of it can get thither and land, must be maintained from hence. We are not apt to be frugal about our armies abroad. Guess at the mUlions this will cost ; and come and see your country before all its 2 Ampthill Walpole. Albemarle, who gave it to Mr. Wal- s ' The red hat of Cardinal Wolsey, pole.' (See Description of Strawberry found in the Great Wardrobe by HiU.) Bishop Burnet when Clerk of the * The Duke of Gloucester. Wal- Closet. From his son the judge it pole. came to the Countess Dowager of walpole. ix v 322 To Edward Gibbon [m& splendour is at an end ! Boston is famishing : what is the fate of Quebec, we do not yet know. The Parliament is met, but two-thirds of the members are frozen in the country. Omiah, the native of Otaheite, breakfasted with Mr. Conway to-day, and learns to skate. He had no notion of ice, and calls it stone-water; a very good expression. If he was in Ireland they would advise him to carry over some in spirits. Shall you bring over a great many fine things for Linton? Shall you not regret all you have given to me ? I would give them up to have you here. Don't you invite me to Linton ? How long your letter is coming ! Take care to know me when you see me. Expect me as wrinkled as Methuselem. Pray don't impute the change to thirty- five years and a tolerable quantity of gout, but to this hard winter. I assure you I looked charmingly a month ago. I have some spirits left stUl, and I wish I don't behave like a boy when we meet. 1678. To Edward Gibbon1. Mr. Walpole cannot express how much he is obliged to Mr. Gibbon for the valuable present he has received 2 ; nor how great a comfort it is to him in his present situa tion, in which he little expected to receive singular pleasure. Mr. Walpole does not say this at random, nor from mere confidence in the author's abUities, for he has already (all his weakness would permit) read the first chapter, and it is in the greatest admiration of the style, manner, method, clearness, and inteUigence. Mr. Walpole's impatience to proceed wUl struggle with his disorder, and give him such Lettee 1678. — l Edward Gibbon of the Decline and FaU of the Boman (1737-1794), the historian. Empire. 3 The first volume of the History 1776] To Edward Gibbon 323 'spirits, that he flatters himself he shall owe part of his recovery to Mr. Gibbon ; whom, as soon as that is a Uttle effected, he shall beg the honour of seeing. 1679. To the Eev. William Mason. Dear Sir, Arlington Street, Feb. 6. I send you word as soon as I can that I received your charming letter very safely, but that is all I can do or say ; and God knows when I shall be able to send you any other answer, for I am, and have been this week, confined to my bed with the gout in six or seven different places. As I never had it before in my leap year, I would suppose that it is owing now to the late bitter weather, for you see that even in my condition one can be fool enough to flatter oneself with some straw to the last. Adieu ! I heartUy wish you aU I want, without envying you what I want. Yours ever, H.W. 1680. To Edward Gibbon. Feb. 14, 1776. After the singular pleasure of reading you, Sir, the next satisfaction is to declare my admiration. I have read great part of your volume, and cannot decide to which of its various merits I give the preference, though I have no doubt of assigning my partiality to one virtue of the author, which, seldom as I meet with it, always strikes me superiorly. Its quaUty wiU naturaUy prevent your guessing which I mean. It is your amiable modesty. How can you know so much, .judge so well, possess your subject, and your knowledge, and your power of judicious reflection so thoroughly, and yet command yourself and betray no dictatorial arrogance of decision? How unlike Y 2 324 To Edward Gibbon [i77« very ancient and very modern authors ! You have, unex pectedly, given the world a classic history. The fame it must acquire will tend every day to acquit this panpgyric of flattery. The impressions it has made on me are very numerous. The strongest is the thirst of being better acquainted with you ; but I reflect that I have been a trifling author, and am in no light profound enough to deserve your intimacy, except by confessing your superiority so frankly, that I assure you honestly I already feel no envy, though I did for a moment. The best proof I can give you of my sincerity is to exhort you, warmly and earnestly, to go on with your noble work: the strongest, though a presumptuous mark of my friendship, is to warn you never to let your charming modesty be corrupted by the acclamations your talents wiU receive. The native qualities of the man should never be sacrificed to those of the author, however shining. I take this hberty as an older man, which reminds me how little I dare promise myself that I shall see your work completed ! But I love posterity enough to contribute, if I can, to give them pleasure through you. I am too weak to say more, though I could talk for hours on your History. But one feeling I cannot suppress, though it is a sensation of vanity. I think, nay, I am sure I perceive, that your sentiments on government agree with my own. It is the only point on which I suspect myself of any partiality in my admiration. It is a reflection of a far inferior vanity that pleases me in your speaking with so much distinction of that, alas ! wonderful period, in which the world saw five good monarchs succeed each other. I have often thought of treating that Elysian era. Happily it has faUen into better hands ! I have been able to rise to-day for the first time, and flatter myself that if I have no relapse, you wiU in two or 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 325 three days more give me leave, Sir, to ask the honour of seeing you. In the meantime, be just ; and do not suspect me of flattering you. You wUl always hear that I say the same of you to everybody. I am, with the greatest regard, Sir, &c. 1681. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Feb. 15, 1776. You have chUled me so thoroughly by the coldness of your answer, and by the dislike you express to England, that I shaU certainly press you no more to come. I thought at least it would have cost you a struggle. Your late brother, I allow, has used you very ill, and I dare to say, beyond his power. It is not at all probable that a tenant for life should have had power to charge the estate with what he laid out on the mansion house. His personal estate would be chargeable if he had let it go to ruin. If he improved it, it was at his own risk. Your nephew, whom you have prudently and kindly associated with yourself, wUl certainly take good advice for you and himself when he returns. I can say nothing on your brother Edward's first appanage, of which he has disposed ; that must depend on the deeds executed by your father, when he assigned it. For the American estate, this is the first time I ever heard of it, and cannot judge. Another part of your letter hurt me too very much. You say, even your brother Gal never did you any pecuniary service. Forgive me, but I had heard and believed that he had increased, at least managed so advantageously what money of yours he had in his hands, that at his death it amounted to seventeen thousand pounds, which I confess seemed to me more than you with your generosity could have saved out of your appointments. For the indifference of the rest of your family I heartily condemn it ; but you 326 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 will not wonder that I combat for dear Gal's tenderness; and I will stiU hope that the insensibUity of your last brother had given you a moment of humour, that I am sure did not last. I must now speak on another subject, on which I have acted so disinterestedly for myself, and with such perfect regard for you, that I do not fear your imputing to the smallest personal concern the warm manner in which I pressed you to return instantly on your brother's death. Indeed I had not had time to know that your return would have been convenient to me : I wrote from my feehngs, and had not another thought but the joy of seeing you once more — a thought I resign with infinite reluctance ; though, as you wUl find by what I am going to say, your personal appearance is no longer necessary but to the satisfaction of my friendship. Your late brother held for me and my brother our place in the Custom House ; as you succeed to all his rights, the patent falls to you and is held in your name. The Com missioners of the Customs represented against your absence, and I was desired to give you notice. I peremptorily refused. I said I had acquainted you with your brother's death, and had pressed you to come over ; but as I appre hended (as you saw) that you might plead your age, the fatigue of the journey, and change of chmate, I was determined to await your answer, and nothing should induce me to urge you to come if you did not think it safe for your health. In the meantime, as the office could not stand stUl, Lord North very obligingly offered me to settle a deputation in any manner I should propose. That, too, I declined, and submitted the whole disposition to his Lordship's discretion. In one word, the Treasury have appointed Mr. Suckling, our cousin and deputy, to act for you till you come ; which wiU be as long as you live, 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 327 unless Sir Edward dies first, when the patent expires — so that now you have no call, nor would your presence be the least necessary to my interest. I only believe that it will be necessary to demand your consent to this arrangement ; and that is all the trouble you will have. I have kept my bed for a fortnight with the gout in my limbs, and yesterday was the first of my rising ; but it was after a sleep of eleven hours, which shows how excellent my constitution would be, if not harassed by the gout. I bear that affliction with patience — with patience, which my reflection has taught me is the desperate substitute to hope, and which does not delude one with such charming visions ! The Duke of Gloucester did me the honour of notifying to me the birth of his son \ It was most welcome intelhgence, and saved me a month's anxiety for the Duchess, who I thought was likely to go a fortnight longer. We have no news but those of preparations against America. I can add nothing to what you know I think on that subject. Monsieur de Guisnes has been suddenly recaUed — it is said on a successful cabal of his enemies ; which, if so, bodes his total ruin. As his successor is not appointed, and there is a great armament at Toulon (though said to assist the Spaniards against Algiers), the stocks took fright, and expressed it : I don't know whether with reason ; but can their panic be extremely premature ? There is talk of Lord Stormont leaving his embassy for a post in Scotland, and of Sir Joseph Yorke replacing him at Paris. Lady Mary Coke has returned some services at Paris, and many years of great attentions, with singular rudeness to me, since my return — but she is mad ; and I suppose the birth of the Prince at Eome will send her to Bedlam2. Letter 1681. — 1 Prince William in 1805. Frederick (d. 1834) ; he succeeded 2 Lady Mary Coke had hoped to his father as Duke of Gloucester marry Edward, Duke of York, and 328 To the Bev. WiUiam Mason [i776 I think I have heard of the life of a modern visionary called Marie a la Coque s, who fancied herself married to Jesus Christ ; it would make a good paraUel. Adieu ! The accounts from Eome continue good. 1682. To the Eev. William Mason. Feb. 18, 1776. As my illness prevented my answering your delightful letter, I do not see why the leisure and soUtude of convalescence should not be employed in replying to it ; not poetically, for the current of the blood, frozen by age and chalkstoned by the gout, does not, though loosened from disease, flow over the smooth pebbles of Helicon. Mine, at best, were factitious rills that, Uke the artificial cascatelle of Hagley, played for moments to entertain visitors, and were not the natural bounty of the soU. You are forced to restrain your torrent, and the dykes of prudence must be borne down before it overflows the country. Not so Mr. Anstey ; because his muddy miU-pool had in one point of view the roar and lustre of a cascade when it fell over a proper wheel, he thinks every pailful of its water, though soused down by a ploughman, has the same effect. His Somersetshire Dialogue is stupidity itseU ; you described it prophetically before you saw it. Somebody or other has given us an epistle of another kind by the late Lord Melcombe; — not different from having more meaning, for Phoebus knows it has none at all, but so civil, so harmless, and so harmonious, that it is the ghost of one of Pope's tunes. How the puffy peer hated the Duchess of Gloucester for but equally in vain. Walpole. having been more successful. On s Marguerite or Marie Alacoque the death of the Duke of York, she (1647-1690), a nun of the order of the tried ridiculously to make it believed Visitation. that she had been married to him, 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 329 must have sweated when learning to sing of Pope, whom he could have strangled ! The whole and sole drift of this cantata is to call Lord Bute ' PoUio,' and to beg to be his vicegerent upon earth. I should like to have heard Lord Bute asking Sir Harry Erskine who ' Pollio ' was. Mr. Whitehead has just published a pretty poem caUed Variety, in which there is humour and ingenuity, but not more poetry than is necessary for a Laureate; however, the plan is one, and is weU wound up. I now pass to prose. Lo, there is just appeared a truly classic work : a history, not majestic like Livy, nor compressed like Tacitus ; not stamped with character like Clarendon ; perhaps not so deep as Eobertson's Scotland, but a thousand degrees above his Charles ; not pointed Uke Voltaire, but as accurate as he is inexact ; modest as he is tranchant and sly as Montesquieu without being so rechercM. The style is as smooth as a Flemish picture, and the muscles are concealed and only for natural uses, not exaggerated like Michael Angelo's to show the painter's skUl in anatomy ; nor composed of the limbs of clowns of different nations, like Dr. Johnson's heterogeneous monsters. This book is Mr. Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. He is son of a foolish alderman, is a member of Parliament, and called a whimsical one because he votes variously as his opinion leads him ; and his first production was in French1, in which language he shines too. I know him a Uttle, never suspected the extent of his talents, for he is perfectly modest, or I want penetration, which I know too, but I intend to know him a great deal more — there! there is food for your residence at York. Do I know nothing superior to Mr. Gibbon ? yes, but not Lettee 1682. — 1 Essai sur I'itude de la Littirature, begun in 1758, and finished in the following year. 330 To fhe Bev. William Mason [1776 what will entertain you at York ; Mr. Gibbon's are good sense and polished art. I talk of great original genius. Lady Di Beauclerk has made seven large drawings in sut-water (her first attempt of the kind) for scenes of my Mysterious Mother. Oh, such drawings! Guido's grace, Albano's children, Poussin's expression, Salvator's boldness in landscape, and Andrea Sacchi's simplicity of composition might perhaps have equalled them had they wrought all together very fine. How an author's vanity can bestow bombast panegyric on his flatterers! Pray, Sir, when did I take myself for an original genius! Did not Shakespeare draw Hamlet from Olaus Ostrogothus, or some such name ; did Le Soeur conceive the Chartreuse from any merit in the legend of St. Bruno? Seeing is believing, miracles are not ceased. I know how prejudiced I am apt to be ; some time or other you wiU see whether I am so in this instance. Now for specific answers to your queries ; many of which answers will not be specific, for I know little more than if I were at York. I know nothing of Garrick's sale of patent, but I know forty stories of his envy and jealousy that are too long to tell you by mouth of pen ; of a Monsr. le Texier, another real prodigy, who acts whole plays, in which every character is perfect — and pray observe he has not read my play. In sum, Garrick says when he quits the stage, he will read plays too, but they will be better than Monsr. Texier's (who only reads those of other authors), for he shall write them himself. This I know he has said twice. Ex pede Herculem. The Duchess of Kingston only knows whether she will be tried. The Earl's zeal against her was as marvellous to me as to you ; I know reasons why he should have done the reverse, and cannot reconcUe contradictions. Why should not Sayer's affair sleep ? what, who is awake ? For your hundred other queries which you have not put to J^-,fu*t^inM.,j(y-Qen.u,??%,Al,. ¦WA£,r&e~c£erMSPA.£e 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 331 me, I shall not attempt to guess them, not from idleness, but from the probable incapacity of my being able to answer them. The womb of time is big ; we shall see whether she is delivered of mice or mountains. One word about myself, and I have done. I know you dishked my answer to Dr. MUles 2, and I know I was angry both at him and Mr. Hume. The latter had acted very treacherously by the story I have hinted at of the Swiss reviewer3. Dr. Milles is a fool, who had been set on by Lord Hardwicke and that set, and at whom I have glanced. I have received many indirect little mischiefs from the Earl, who has of late courted me as much, and I have been civil to him. But my answers shall some time or other appear, when I only shaU be blamed and my antagonists will be dead, and not hurt by them. For Mr. Masters, he is a dirty simpleton, who began by flattering me, and because I neglected him, joined the pack. The arguments in the answers are very essential to the question, and I shall not give myself the trouble of extracting the ridicule on the answerers, as they deserved it. My hands you see are well, but I could not have written so long an epistle with my feet, which are still in their flannels. As my spirits always revive in proportion as pain subsides, I shall take the liberty (Sir Eesidentiary) to trespass on your decorum by sending you an impromptu I wrote yesterday, to pretty Lady Craven, who sent me an eclogue of her own, every stanza of which ended with January, and which she desired me not to criticize, as some 2 See note on letter to Cole of of Hume's on the same subject. Dec. 20, 1770. These had already been submitted 3 M. Deyverdun, a Swiss employed to and condemned by Horace Wal- in the office of the Secretary of State, pole, who objected to their publica- and a friend of Gibbon. He reviewed tion and to the use made of them by the Historic Doubts in Memoires Litti- the reviewer. (See Horace Walpole's raires de la Grande Bretagne. To this Short Notes of my Life, under date of article were appended some remarks May 1769.) 332 To the Bev. William Mason [1776 of the rhymes were incorrect, a licence I adopted in my second line: Though lame and old, I do not burn With fretfulness to scare ye ; And charms and wit like yours would turn To May my January. The God who can inspire and heal Sure breathed your lines, sweet Fairy, For as I read, I feel, I feel, I'm not quite January. Probably you would have liked better to have the eclogue, but I had not leave to send it. 1683. To the Eev. William Mason. Feb. 29, 1776. My confinement has made me a great devourer of quartos. I am impatient to tell you what I have found in one as large as Mr. Gibbon's, not quite so exceUent a work, nor so compressed, but which is not barren of entertainment, though the first sections to be sure are to me absolute Hebrew. This is Dr. Burney's 1 History of Music, a volume that I fear wiU a Uttle interfere with my friend Sir John Hawkins's on the same subject. I must begin with teUing you that in page 168 the Doctor says he holds it impossible to be a great poet and a great musician too. Now, not to mention Gray, who (I beheve, though I know nothing of music) was a great musician, how could he forget you whom he has not for gotten ? for he has celebrated your harmonic knowledge in his notes, though I perceive he did not know that you are an inventor in the science, and have begotten a new instru ment by the marriage of two others : — but to the point. Lettee 1683.— i Dr. Charles Burney (1726-1814). 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 333 Would you believe that the great Abyssinian, Mr. Bruce, whom Dr. B. made me laugh by seriously calling the intrepid traveller, has had the intrepidity to write a letter to the Doctor, which the latter has printed in his book ; and in which he intrepidly tells Ues of almost as large a magnitude as his story of the bramble, into which his Majesty of Abyssinia and his whole army were led by the fault of his general, and which bramble was so tenacious, that his Majesty could not disentangle himself without stripping to the skin and leaving his robes in it, and it being death in that country to procure or compass the sovereign's nudity, the general lost his head for the error of his march. In short, Mr. Bruce has not only described six Abys sinian musical instruments, and given their names in the ancient Ethiopic, and in the court language, but contributed a Theban harp, as beautifully and gracefully designed as if Mr. Adam had drawn it for Lady Mansfield's 2 dressing-room, with a sphinx, masts, a patera, and a running foUage of leaves. This harp, Mr. Bruce says, he copied from a paint ing in fresco on the inside of a cavern near the ancient Thebes, and that it was painted there by the order of Sesostris, and he is not at all astonished at the miracle of its preservation, though he treats poor accurate Dr. Pococke with great contempt for having been in the cave without seeing this prodigy, which, however, graceful as its form is, Mr. Bruce thinks, was not executed by any artist superior to a sign-painter, yet so high was the perfection of the arts in the time of Sesac, that a common mechanic could not help rendering faithfully a common instrument. I am sorry our Apelles, Sir Joshua, has not the sign- 2 Lady Elizabeth Finch (d. 1784), field, whose house, Caenwood, near . sixth daughter of sixth Earl of Win- Hampstead, was designed by the chilsea ; m. (1738) Hon. William brothers Robert and James Adam. Murray, afterwards Earl of Mans- 334 To fhe Bev. William Mason [1776 painter's secret of making his colours last in an open cave for thousands of years. It is unlucky that Mr. Bruce does not possess another secret reckoned very essential to intrepid traveUers — a good memory. Last spring he dined at Mr. Crawfurd's : George Selwyn was one of the company. After relating the story of the bramble, and several other curious particulars, some body asked Mr. Bruce if the Abyssinians had any musical instruments ? ' Musical instruments ! ' said he, and paused — 'yes, I think I remember one — lyre.' George Selwyn whispered his neighbour, ' I am sure there is one less since he came out of the country.' There are now six instru ments there. Eemember this letter is only for your own private eye ; I do not desire to be engaged in a controversy or a duel. My gout is waning, and my ambition looks down to getting on a shoe in a few days. Mr. Stonhewer called on me yesterday, and I diverted him with what had just hap pened. Mr. Cambridge had been with me, and asked me if I knew the famous Beaumarchais s, who is in England. I said, 'No, Sir, nor ever intend it.' 'Well, now,' said he, ' that is exactly my way : I made a resolution early never to be acquainted with authors, they are so vain and so troublesome? I am persuaded he has got acquainted with Beaumarchais by this time. Adieu ! P.S. When you read Dr. Burney, pray observe in p. 256, in the notes, a quotation from Huet that exactly describes Bryant's Ancient Mythology. s Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais (1732-1799). 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 335 1684. To the Eev. William Cole. Arlington Street, March 1, 1776. I am sorry to tell you that the curious old painting at the tavern in Fleet Street is addled, by the subject turning .out a little too old. Alas! it is not the story of Francis I — but of St. Paul. All the coats of arms that should have been French and Austrian, and that I had a mind to con vert into Palatine and Lorrain, are the bearings of Phari saic nobUity. In short, Dr. Percy was here yesterday, and tells me that over Mr. Gough's imaginary Pavia is written Damascus in capital letters. Oh, our antiquaries ! Mr. Astle has at last called on me, but I was not weU enough to see him. I shaU return his visit when I can go out, I hope this wUl be in a week; I have no pain left, but have a codicU of a nervous fever, for which I am taking the bark. I have nothing new for you in our old way, and therefore wiU not unnecessarily lengthen my letter, which was only intended to cashier the old painting, though I hear the Antiquaries still go on with having a drawing taken from it. Oh, our antiquaries ! 1685. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, March 11, 1776. Venisti, vidi, vicisti! Your letter arrived on Saturday, General Conway came yesterday. Sir John Legard1 will have ample credentials to Brunswick, for Mr. Conway is in friendship and correspondence with Prince Ferdinand, and Sir John wiU certainly have leave to go after the review, if officers are allowed to go abroad at this time. Thank you heartily for giving me this opportunity. Mr. Cumberland has published two Odes, in which he Letter 1685. — a Sixth Baronet, of Ganton, Yorkshire. 336 To the Bev. William Mason [i776 has been so bountiful as to secure immortality for Gray, for Dr. James's powder, and indeed for his own Odes, for Father Time would fall asleep before he could read them through. There is a dedication to Eomney the painter, that hisses with the pertness of a dull man. Bishop Keene wrote to me t'other day to know if I knew anything of a whole length of my father, that was to be sold by auction, and if I had any objection to his buying it 2. Was this folly ? or is it repentance, and he wants a memento to remind him that he cheated my father's daughter s of a living and of marriage ? I mentioned this to my nephew the Bishop of Exeter just now, who told me that when Mr. Grenville was turned out (who had offered my Lord of Ely the Primacy of Ire land), he sent for the person who had brought him the offer, and desired him to teU Mr. GrenvUle that he should always acknowledge the obligation ; but that, as Mr. Gren ville was now out, he thought it right (perhaps he said, honest) to tell him that his Lordship must look up to the King, and to whomever his Majesty should make his minister. The Duke of Wirtemburg4 is arrived with a mistress, whom he got made Countess of the Empire. The Queen of France would not receive her : she has been received at court here ; the man who keeps the hotel garni in Covent Garden would not lodge her for the reputation of his house. Here is a new epigram from France : Quelqu'un, dit-on, a peint Voltaire Entre la Beaumelle et Freron; Cela feroit un vrai Calvaire S'il n'y manquoit le bon larron. 2 It was bought by Lord Hertford. temberg ; d. 1793. His mistress (to s Mrs. Daye ; see note on letter to whom he was married in 1786) was Mann of Dec. 11, 1752. a Countess von Hohenhain. 4 Charles Eugene, Duke of Wurt- 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 337 Voltaire himself has written a little poem called Sesostris, which I do not send you, for it is only the worn-out choice of Hercules. P.S. I have often thought of a thing, and which, as you are now at York I wUl mention, and beg you to suggest to Peckitt. You know he and aU the modern glass- painters cannot recover the fine ancient reds and greens. How is that possible, when every necklace-shop sells false rubies and emeralds, which jewellers must take out of the setting. To be sure they are not true ! and what are those counterfeits but coloured glass? Pray too, could not Peckitt sketch the exact faces of Henry IV and Eichard III from their statues on the screen of your cathedral ? I would pay him for them. 1686. To Sir Horace Mann. March 22, 1776. I have been so long confined, as I am still, that with a dearth of pubhc events, I have been little disposed to write. My gouts, as they never attack my head or stomach, are not alarming. One beheves they protract one's Ufe, but they certainly undermine its vigour and its comforts. They reckon this winter unfavourable to that disorder, and I cer tainly have seen several co-patients who complain of the slowness of their recovery. My common sense tells me that repeated attacks and increasing years must diminish the powers of recovery. If my companions are more san guine, they flatter themselves, or say they do. We know nothing new from America, since the general belief that the attempt on Quebec has faUed by the death of Montgomery *, who was not so fortunate as WoUe, to die Letter 1686. — 1 General Richard Montgomery, killed in an attack on Quebec on Dec. 31, 1775. WALPOLE. IX Z 338 To Sir Horace Mann [m& a conqueror, though very near being so. No authentic accounts are come from thence. In truth, the want of communication, but to the Government, bolstered up by an infinitude of lies, renders everything one hears prob lematic. However, had the ministers any good news, they would be eager enough to divulge it. The season is far advanced, yet their expeditions are much behindhand, and the troops that do go will arrive during the dangerous heats. Indeed, I do not think the general language is so prophetic of certain success as it was three months ago, and people seem to grow much more clear of the unpromising state of affairs than they were. What else can I teU you ? That dissipation and gaming continue to stride before the war ? Yes, verily. A new club is opened in St. James's Street, that piques itself on sur passing all its predecessors. But this is almost common place. The Duke of Wirtemberg, who has wasted revenues enough to be worthy to be of it, is here, but here is no phenomenon. A senator of Eome, whUe Eome survives, can continue to waste as much in one evening as a German prince in an opera for a season. But it is the nation that is really gaming deep — we have set twelve provinces on the cast of a die. The Duke of Chartres2, they say, is coming to the University of Newmarket. Different phUo- sophers, in different ages, visit different nations for different kinds of lore. Our crocodUes are not the same with those of Egypt. The Duke and Duchess3 seem much pleased with Eome. I hope their villa is not within the precincts of the malaria. 2 Afterwards the notorious Duke of Orleans. Walpole. 8 Of Gloucester. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 339 I did hear the report of the separation of the Cowpers, but not knowing them, never thought about them. To tell you the truth, the Earl 4, I conclude, is a madman ; there fore, I wonder he does not come home. Our Countess6, I am told, has bought an estate; is it in Tuscany or Naples? I can only repeat what I told you, that I am persuaded the mortgage saddled on you was a stretch of power. For the other articles, they must depend on deeds. Everybody is on the quest for tickets for the Duchess of Kingston's trial I am persuaded her impudence wUl operate in some singular manner. Probably she wUl appear in weeds with a train to reach across Westminster Hall, with mourning Maids of Honour to support her when she swoons at her dear Duke's name, and in a black veU to conceal her not blushing. To this farce, novel and curious as it will be, I shall not go. I think cripples have no business in crowds but at the Pool of Bethesda ; and to. be sure, this is no angel that troubles the waters. I have nothing to add but an excellent bon mot of WUkes's yesterday, on Lord George Germaine. The former had moved for a more equal representative, from the natural objection to the smaU boroughs. Two of them, indeed, he owned, had the merit of sending two great ministers; Banbury, which chooses Lord North ; and East Grinstead, that furnishes an heroic Secretary of State, who might conquer America, though, he believed, it would not be in Germany9. Adieu! 4 Earl Cowper. Walpole. disgraced for not leading up the 6 The Countess of Orford. Wai- Blues. Lord Chatham boasted of pole. having conquered America in Ger- 6 Alluding to the battle of Minden, many. Walpole,. where Lord George Germaine was Z 2 340 To Dr. Gem [1776 1687. To Dr. Gem1. Arlington Street, April 4, 1776. It is but fair, when one quits one's party, to give notice to those one abandons — at least, modern patriots, who often imbibe their principles of honour at Newmarket, use that civUity. You and I, dear Sir, have often agreed in our political notions ; and you, I fear, will die without changing your opinion. For my part, I must confess I am totally altered ; and, instead, of being a warm partisan of liberty, now admire nothing but despotism. You will naturally ask what place I have gotten, or what bribe I have taken? Those are the criterions of political changes in England — but, as my conversion is of foreign extraction, I shall not be the richer for it. In one word, it is the Relation du Lit de Justice 2 that has operated the miracle. When two ministers3 are found so humane, so virtuous, so excellent, as to study nothing but the welfare and deliverance of the people ; when a King listens to such excellent men ; and when a Parliament, from the basest, most interested motives, interposes to intercept the blessing, must I not change my opinions, and admire arbitrary power ? or can I retain my sentiments without varying the object ? Yes, Sir, I am shocked at the conduct of the Parliament — one would think it was an Enghsh one! I am scan dalized at the speeches of the Avocat General *, who sets up the odious interests of the nobility and clergy against the cries and groans of the poor ; and who employs his wicked eloquence to tempt the good young monarch, by personal Lettee 1687. — 1 An English phy- 2 The first lit de justice held by sician long settled at Paris, no less Louis XVI. Walpole. esteemed for his professional know- 3 Messrs. de Malesherbes and Tur- ledge, than for his kind attention to got. Walpole. the poor who applied to him for * Monsieur de Siguier. Walpole, medical assistance. Walpole. 1776] To Dr. Gem 341 views, to sacrifice the mass of his subjects to the privileges of the few — But why do I call it eloquence ? The fumes of interest had so clouded his rhetoric, that he falls into a downright Iricism. — He tells the King that the intended tax on the proprietors of land will affect the property not only of the rich, but of the poor. I should be glad to know what is the property of the poor ? Have the poor landed estates? Are those who have landed estates the poor? Are the poor that wUl suffer by the tax the wretched labourers who are dragged from their famishing families to work on the roads? — But it is wicked eloquence when it finds a reason, or gives a reason for continuing the abuse. The Advocate tells the King those abuses are presque consacres par Vanciennete ; indeed, he says all that can be said for nobUity, it is consacrie par Vanciennete ; and thus the length of the pedigree of abuses renders them respect able! His arguments are as contemptible when he tries to dazzle the King by the great names of Henri Quatre and Sully, of Louis XIV and Colbert, two couple whom nothing but a mercenary orator would have classed together. Nor, were aU four equally venerable, would it prove anything. Even good kings and good ministers, if such have been, may have erred ; nay, may have done the best they could. They would not have been good, if they wished their errors should be preserved, the longer they had lasted. In short, Sir, I think this resistance of the Parliament to the adorable reformation planned by Messrs. de Turgot and Malesherbes is more phlegmatically scandalous than the wildest tyranny of despotism. I forget what the nation was that refused liberty when it was offered. This opposi tion to so noble a work is worse. A whole people may refuse its own happiness ; but these profligate magistrates 342 To Dr. Gem [i776 resist happiness for others, for miUions, for posterity! — Nay,, do they not half vindicate Maupeou, who crushed them ? And you, dear Sir, wUl you now chide my apostasy ? Have I not cleared myself to your eyes ? I do not see a shadow of sound logic in all Monsieur Siguier's speeches, but in his proposing that the soldiers should work on the roads, and that passengers should contribute to their fabric ; though, as France is not so luxuriously mad as England, I do not believe passengers could support the expense of the roads. That argument, therefore, is like another that the Avocat proposes to the King, and which, he modestly owns, he believes would be impracticable. I beg your pardon, Sir, for giving you this long trouble ; but I could not help venting myself, when shocked to find such renegade conduct in a Parliament that I was rejoiced had been restored. Poor human kind ! is it always to breed serpents from its own bowels? In one country, it chooses its representatives, and they seU it and themselves ; in others, it exalts despots ; in another, it resists the despot when he consults the good of his people ! Can we wonder mankind is wretched, when men are such beings ? Parlia ments run wild with loyalty, when America is to be enslaved or butchered. They rebel, when their country is to be set free ! I am not surprised at the idea of the devil being always at our elbows. They who invented him no doubt could not conceive how men could be so atrocious to one another, without the intervention of a fiend. Don't you think, if he had never been heard of before, that he would have been invented on the late partition of Poland ! Adieu, dear Sir. Yours most sincerely, Hob. Walpole. 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 343 1688. To the Eev. William Mason. April 8, 1776. You find Circe and Alma Mater are too powerful. Perhaps they are in alliance. 17 faut cultiver son jardin — you must stick to your garden. There is Dr. Chandler1 who was sent by the Dilettanti too, and has just published his Travels in Greece. They are rather travels in Pausanias, for he does little but tell us what Pausanias found worth seeing there. Except that, which is no merit, the book is Ul-written and unsatisfactory; and yet he revived my visions towards Athens, and made me wish I was a great king and could purchase to restore it : a great king probably would hold it cheaper to conquer it. This Dr. Chandler, as if to avenge his namesake, flirts at Gray for having clothed 'Delphi's barren steep' with woods, and converted Meander's muddy waves into amber, as if amber did not poetically imply the same. I don't wonder, with so little taste, he has written no better. I bought yesterday a poem in blank verse called Amwell, by a John Scott 2, Esq. ; it is a pious design to immortalize a vUlage in which John Scott, Esq., Uves. I only mention it for one grand and beautiful image which struck me extremely : — oft Fancy's ear, Deep in' the gloom of evening woods, has heard The last sad sigh of Autumn, when his throne To Winter he resign'd. It puts me in mind of that sublime passage in Dyer's Ruins of Rome: — hears the voice of Tune Disparting towers. Letter 1688.— 1 Richard Chandler, D.D. (1738-1810). * John Scott (1780-1783), a Quaker. 344 To fhe Bev. William Mason [1776 I don't know whether you are much acquainted, with my Swiss footman, David ? WeU ! he does not think there is so great a prince in the world as I. Yesterday as I came to breakfast, he told me coolly the Duke of Wirtemburg had called at eight o'clock and wanted a ticket for Strawberry HUL ' Bless me ! ' said I, ' and what did you say ?' 'I told his Grace you was not awake, and bad him come again at ten.' 'Good God!' said I, 'tell him to call again! don't you know he is a Sovereign Prince ? ' ' No, I did think he was only a common Duke ! ' I could not help laughing, though I was so shocked. In short, he had called again, and had again been sent away, nor can David yet conceive that I was to be waked. I was forced to write a thousand lies and excuses, and swear I was bedrid with the gout, and could not pay my duty to his Serene Highness, and upon the whole was very glad for being reduced to plead the gout. I sent Philip to show my house, and persist in my crippletude, which in truth is still so fresh, that it would aU have revived, if I must have walked or stood two hours to show his Serenity the tombs. They are translating Shakespeare in France, and Othello is so well done, that it has incredible success. The Abbe Barthelemi, a very good judge and no partialist to England, desired Madame du Deffand to tell me he finds Shakespeare superieur a tout et qu'il me prioit'de ne regarder que le dieu et de ne pas faire attention a l'homme. This is a strong proof that both the Abbe and the translators understand Shake speare, but what will they do with Falstaff? — impossible, unless they are as able as Townley3, who translated Hudibras so admirably, which before seemed the most impracticable of all achievements. Is not your residence nearly exhausted, and don't you 3 John Towneley (1697-1782) ; his bras was published anonymously in translation of the first canto of Hudi- 1757 at Paris. 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 345 intend coming southward? Am not I to harbour you? You shall be troubled with no Serene Highnesses, nor have I wasted all my budget in my letters ; Lady Di's drawings alone are worth a pilgrimage, — ask Mr. Palgrave, who has seen them. P.S. I have made a blunder, which will have puzzled you. I recollect it was a Dr. Chapman, not Dr. Chandler, who made so good an end by choking himself with mackerel. 1689. To the Eev. William Mason. Eve of St. Elizabeth of Kingston, Strawberry Hill. I will not trouble you for a cast of King Eichard's face, since there is no such thing ; nor of King Henry's, since it has lost its mouth. I am grown such an antiquity myself, and have so little time left to satisfy my fancies, that I willingly contract them within as narrow a compass as I can ; yet you commission me to send you journals of the Duchess's trial, as if I was to be there ! My curiosity would certainly carry me thither sooner almost than to any show upon earth. I have known her from five years old, and seen her in all her stages, but I am not well enough to attend this last act of her drama — possibly may never go to a pubhc place again, having a strong notion of the propriety of seceding, and not trailing one's weaknesses into the world, when age and illness have told one to retire. Thus you must expect no ocular accounts from me, perhaps nothing better than the newspapers would tell you, except with a little more authenticity. Tuesday, April 16. The Duchess-Countess has raised my opinion of her 346 To fhe Bev. William Mason [1776 understanding, which was always but at low ebb ; for she has behaved so sensibly and with so little affectation, that her auditory are loud in applause of her. She did not once squall, scream, or faint, was not impudent, nor gorgeous, looked weU though pale and trembling; was drest all in black, yet in silk, not crape ; with no pennon hoisted but a widow's peak. She spoke of her innocence and of her awe of so venerable an assembly. Yesterday passed in the pleading of her counsel against a second trial, urging the finality of the ecclesiastic sentence. I should think no more would be done to-day than hearing the reply of the prosecutor's counsel. A previous incident was more entertaining than any part of the piece; the Grand Seneschal1 invited the Duke of Wirtemburg to dinner by a card, and translated it neither into law Latin nor Norman French. By the help of Boyer's Dictionary it began Le haul Intendant envoie ses compliments, &c. He ordered everybody to be uncovered while the King's commission was being read, and then sat down himself and put on his hat. Lord Nuneham has just been here, not attending his friend through all her course. She lay at home (or, ac cording to the chaste modern phrase, slept there), and the Usher of Black Eod slept in the next room. My journals are short, but you shaU have the sequel. Adieu ! P.S. I this minute receive a letter from poor Mr. Granger's nephew, to teU me his uncle was seized, at the communion table, on Sunday, with an apoplectic fit, and died yesterday morning at five o'clock. He was a good man as ever Uved. 2nd P.S. Thurlow, Wedderburn, and Dunning have Lettee 1689. — i Earl Bathurst, who acted as High Steward at the Duchess's trial. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 347 answered the Duchess's counsel, and then the Lords ad journed tUl Friday ; so at soonest you wUl hear again by Saturday's post. 1690. To the Eev. William Cole. April 16, 1776. Yotj will be concerned, my good Sir, for what I have this minute heard from his nephew, that poor Mr. Granger was seized at the communion table on Sunday with an apoplexy, and died yesterday morning at five. I have answered the letter with a word of advice about his MSS., that they may not faU into the hands of bookseUers. He had been told by idle people so many gossiping stories, that it would hurt him and living persons if all his collections were to be printed ; for as he was incapable of teUing an untruth himself, he suspected nobody else — too great good ness in a biographer. Yours ever, H.W. P.S. The whole world is occupied with the Duchess of Kingston's trial. I don't tell you a word of it, for you wUl not care about it these two hundred years. 1691. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, April 17, 1776. I opened your letter of the 2nd with trembling, for the Duchess of Gloucester had told me, with great concern, the danger of Lady Lucy1. As she was stiU alive, and your nephew thought her in less danger, I wUl venture to Lettee 1691.— 1 Lady Lucy Noel, wife of Sir Horace Mann the younger. Walpole. 348 To Sir Horace Mann [i776 hope she is safe, because I wish it so much for all your sakes ; but I shall be very impatient for another letter, and to hear you yourself are better. You may think of America, tf you please ; but we think and talk but of one subject, the solemn comedy that is acting in Westminster Hall. Deep wagers had been laid that the Duchess-Countess 2 would decamp before her trial. This, with a nullion of other stories, have been so spread, that I am determined to believe no one fact but what I shall read in the printed trial ; for at it I have not been, though curious enough about so august a mummery, and so original a culprit ; but I am too little recovered to encounter crowds. The scene opened on Wednesday with aU its pomp, and had drawn hither even a Countess Castiglione, from MUan. The doubly-noble prisoner went through her part with universal admiration. Instead of her usual ostentatious folly, and clumsy pretensions to cunning, all her conduct was decent, and even seemed natural. Her dress was entirely black and plain ; her attendants not too numerous, her dismay at first perfectly unaffected. A few tears balanced cheerfulness enough ; and her presence of mind and attention never deserted her. This rational behaviour, and the pleadings of her four counsel, who contended for the finality of the Ecclesiastical Court's sentence against a second trial, carried her triumphantly through the first day, and turned the stream much in her favour. Yesterday was less propitious. The Attorney and Soli citor-Generals s, and Dunning, refuted the Duchess's counsel, made a very contrary impression, and seemed to have unhinged some of her firmness. She was blooded as soon as she retired, fell into a great passion of tears, and is, or 2 Elizabeth Chudleigh, Countess of Bristol, married during the Earl's life to the last Duke of Kingston. Walpole. s Thurlow and Wedderburn. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 349 affects to be, very ill. However, the Lords have given her and themselves a respite of two days. On Friday the opinion of the judges is to be asked on her plea against a second trial, which, it is not doubted, wUl be overruled. AU the future is uncertainty; whether she wiU be sent back to the Ecclesiastic Court, or whether the Lords wUl proceed to trial — either of which would produce deep probing into her history ; or whether, to avoid either, she will not plead guUty as soon as the Ecclesiastic Court's decisive jurisdiction is set aside. In fact, this is as much the trial of the Ecclesiastic Court as of the prisoner ; and may, at least ought to, produce a reform of that Popish tribunal. The Earl of Bristol 4 does not stand in a fairer predicament ; and is not the whole burlesque, when, except the foreigners, there could not be one person in the Hall who was not as much convinced of the bigamy as of their own existence ? But the world can make laws against crimes, tiU nobody knows whether there is any crime which may not be committed legally. I now submit to recall my thoughts to America, for the sake of you Itahans and little states, who do not know how superior fashion is in a great nation to national interests. You need not be too impatient for events. The army that Was to overrun the Atlantic continent is not half set out yet ; but it wUl be time enough to go into winter quarters. What we have heard lately thence is not very promising. The Congress, that was said to be squabbling, seems to act with harmony and spirit ; and Quebec is not thought to be so safe as it was a month ago. However, that is the business of the ministers ; nobody else troubles his head about the matter. Few people knew much of America 4 Augustus John Hervey, Earl of was supposed to have connived for Bristol. He had never avowed his a sum of money at her marrying the marriage with Miss Chudleigh, and Duke. Walpole. 350 To Sir Horace Mann [i776 before ; and now all communication is cut off, and the administration does not think itself bound to chant its own disappointments, or the praises of the enemy, we forget it as much as if Columbus had not routed it out of the ocean. Who thought of Mrs. Pitt B rising again at Pisa ? I was told she was in Provence, and imagined her on her return. But who can calculate the motions of such eccentric heads as the English? My dear countrymen and women are — very sensible. I return to poor Lady Lucy and you and your nephew. How I wish you aU at ease about her! Pray, too, be assured I acquiesce in all you say on your own return, though grieved at your resolution, and more so at the necessity you find in adhering to it. It is not my disposi tion to prefer my own pleasures to the welfare of my friends. Your return might have opened a warm channel of affection, which above thirty years could not freeze ; but I am sure you know my steadiness too well to suspect me of cooling to you, because we are both grown too old to meet again. I wished that meeting, as a luxury beyond what old age seldom tastes ; but I am too well prepared for parting with everything, to be Ul-humouredly chagrined because one vision faUs. Visions are the consolation of life ; it is wise to indulge them, unless one builds on them as realities. Our dreams are almost at an end ! Mine are mixed with pain ; yet I think it does not make me peevish. I accept with thankfulness every hour in which I do not suffer. I am not at all impatient for the moment that wUl terminate both anguish and cheerfulness, and I endeavour to form my mind to resigning the first with gratitude, and the latter with easy submission. Adieu ! 6 Mrs. Anne Pitt, sister of William, Earl of Chatham. Walpole. 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 351 1692. To the Eev. William Mason. April 20, 1776. Your obedient journalist proceeds. He might plead a headache ; but as that is generally pleaded when not felt, a real one must not be disgraced by being turned into an excuse, especially by so sacred a minister of truth — as a newswriter. The plot thickens, or rather opens. Yesterday the judges were caUed on for their opinions, and una voce dismantled the Ecclesiastic Court, which has not been treated with much respect by the Common Law. The Attorney-General then detaUed the life and adventures of Elizabeth Chudleigh, alias Hervey, alias the most high and puissant Princess the Duchess of Kingston. Her Grace bore the narration with a front worthy of her exalted rank. Then was produced the capital witness, the ancient damsel who was present at her first marriage and tucked her up for consummation. To this witness the Duchess was benign, but had a transitory swoon at the mention of her dear Duke's name; and at intervals has been blooded enough to have supphed her execution if necessary. Two babes were likewise proved to have blessed her first nuptials, one of which for aught that appears may exist and become Earl of Bristol. The gaUant and faithful Earl of HUlsborough used all his prowess to cross-question and browbeat the deponent, but her Grace's other champion, Lord Mansfield, did not enter the lists. The court is now hearing the other witnesses. I have forsworn prophecy, and therefore tell you no particu lars of what is to come. If I hear anything in time this evening of the events of the day, you shah know ; if not, good night. P.S. It is near seven, and the trial is not over. I must 352 To fhe Bev. William Mason [1776 go out and learn anecdotes, and cannot come home before the post goes out; so you must have patience tUl next week. 1693. To the Eev. William Mason. Sunday, April 21, 1776. I have an half-hour to spare, and employ it to continue the trial, which wiU not be finished before Tuesday evening, when I shaU certainly neither have collected the sequel, nor have time to write it, as I am to dine at the Eoyal Academy. Friday and Saturday have produced so much against the Duchess-Countess, that she must have been distracted to have sought the trial, or not poisoned the witnesses. The judges quashed the Ecclesiastic Court as summarUy as Luther could have done ; and Thurlow has given an Atalantis of her Grace's adventures, confirmed by evi dence. A maid has appeared who was present at her first marriage and almost at its consummation. Serjeant Hawkins has authenticated the birth of at least one chUd ; and the widow of the parson who married her, and on whom she forced a fictitious register, when she expected the late Lord Bristol's death, and had a mind to be a Countess, has deposed, that though privy to aU these cir cumstances, visiting the new Duchess, the latter said to her, 'Mrs. PhUlips, was not the Duke very good to marry an old maid?' Both these women her avarice had turned against her. Lord Barrington, subpoenaed against her, after taking the oath, declared he would betray no confidential secrets. The Lords were going to hang him for perjury, but thought better on it, lest a quarrel between the two Houses should prove favourable to America. His Lordship faltered as well as they did; told more than he had de clared, he would not teU, and yet prevaricated; but for this 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 353 interlude you must wait for the printed trial, as I cannot relate it accurately. To-morrow the Duchess makes her defence; and on Tuesday the Lords give sentence. She has not preserved the phUosophy of the first day, but abused the first female evidence while giving testimony. Lord Mansfield left the Ecclesiastical Court in the lurch ; his cowardice always supplanting his knavery. Adieu ! you shall know the sequel by Wednesday or Thursday's post. P.S. When does your residence conclude ? and when do you come to Strawberry Hill ? 1694. To the Eev. William Mason. April 23, 1776. If you expect a long letter, you will be disappointed ; if you are tired of my letters, you will be released. The wisdom of the land has been exerted five days in turning a Duchess into a Countess, and does not think it a punish able crime for a Countess to convert herself into a Duchess. After a paltry defence and an oration of fifty pages, which she herself had written and pronounced weU, the sages, in spite of the Attorney-General, who brandished a hot iron, dismissed her with the simple injunction of paying her fees ; all voting her guilty, the Duke of Newcastle softening his vote with erroneously, not intentionally. So ends that solemn farce ! which may be indifferently bound up with the State Trials and The History of Moll Flanders. If you write to her you must direct to the Countess of Bristol. The Earl, they say, does not intend to leave her that title, nor the house of Meadows a shilling, but there will be quaeres to both designs. The Ecclesiastic Court, full as guUty as the culprit, I dare to say, will escape as well. WALPOLE. IX \ ft 354 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 Adieu! allow that I have obeyed you implicitly. I am glad to have done with her. 1695. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, April 24, 1776. I write again so soon, because I owe you the sequel of the trial. If the Pope expects his Duchess back, he must create her one, for her peers have reduced her to a Countess. Her folly and obstinacy now appear in their full vigour ; at least her faith in the Ecclesiastic Court, trusting to the infallibility of which she provoked this trial, in the face of every sort of detection. A living witness of the first marriage, a register of it fabricated long afterwards by herself, the widow of the clergyman who married her, many confidants to whom she had trusted the secret, and even Hawkins the surgeon, privy to the birth of her child, appeared against her. The Lords were tender, and would not probe the Earl's collusion ; but the Ecclesiastical Court, who so readily accepted their juggle, and sanctified the second match, were brought to shame: they care not, if no reformation follows. The Duchess, who could produce nothing else of consequence in her favour, tried the powers of oratory, and made a long oration, in which she cited the protection of her late mistress1. Her counsel would have curtaUed this harangue, but she told them they might be good lawyers, but did not understand speaking to the passions. She concluded her rhetoric with a fit, and the trial with rage, when convicted of the bigamy. The Lettee 1695. — I Miss Chudleigh of Kingston, without being a widow, had been Maid of Honour to the the enigmatic epitaph of AeliaLaelia Princess Dowager of Wales, and re- Crispus, nee Virgo, nee Mulier, nee mained so long after she was married Vidua, sed Omnia, was applied to to Mr. Hervey, but the marriage was her by the author of these letters. not owned. As she married the Duke Walpole. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 355 Attorney-General laboured to have her burnt in the hand, but the judges were hustled into an opinion against it, and it was waived. So all this complication of knavery receives no punishment, but the loss of the Duchy ; unless the civil courts below are more severe than the supreme tribunal ; and thither her antagonists intend to resort. The Earl's 2 family have talked loudly of a divorce ; but if it is true that he has given her a bond of thirty thousand pounds not to molest her, and that this bond is in Lord Barrington's hands, either she will recriminate, and coUu- sion proved prevents a divorce ; or his silence wUl speak the collusion. I am heartily tired of this farce, having heard of nothing else this fortnight. Happily, in this giant town one is not long troubled with stale events. Did I tell you that a Madame Castiglione came on purpose from MUan for this show ? As I have heard no more from you of Lady Lucy, I flatter myseU that all danger is over. I shall like to have it confirmed. There is a report to-day that Spain has made free with Jamaica, and taken it. I do not believe it ; but it is certain that America furnishes administration with no good news. Fifteen thousand of the destined troops are not yet sailed thither. I have just met with your name in a printed book, in which your poUteness is celebrated. It is called Letters from Italy by an Englishwoman. This is a Mrs. Miller, whom perhaps you recollect. Ten years ago I knew her and her husband, the faithful companion of her travels, at Bath, near which they have a small house and garden, in a beautiful spot called Bath-Easton. They were mighty civil simple people, living with her mother, Mrs. Eiggs, a rough kind of English humourist. They ran out their 2 The Earl of Bristol. a a 2 356 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 fortune, and all went to France to repair it. In France the mother was left with the grandchildren, while the fond pair resorted to Italy. Thence they returned, her head turned with France and bouts-rimes ; his, with virtu. They have instituted a poetic academy at Bath-Easton, give out subjects, and distribute prizes ; publish the prize verses, and make themselves completely ridiculous ; which is pity, as they are good-natured, well-meaning people. The poor Arcadian patroness does not spell one word of French or Italian right through her three volumes of Travels. I wonder we have never had our friend Lady Pomfret's, as she had something now and then like sense ; they would have been still more absurd. Adieu ! P.S. I must add an anecdote of the Duchess-Countess that I heard last night. On some altercation between her and Sir Francis Molyneux, Black Eod, under whose custody she was in her own house, she carried him into another room, and showed him a hole in the ceUing or wainscot made by a pistol-ball. I have heard formerly that she used to terrify the Duke of Kingston in that manner with threatening to murder him or herself. I think they favoured her age as much a3 her person on her trial, for they have made her but fifty. She must be fifty-five or six. She and her brother were my playfellows,, when we lived at Chelsea, and her father was Deputy-Governor of the College. I am fifty-nine almost, and boys and girls do not play together unless near of an age, much less before one of them is born. I beheve you remember them at Chelsea as weU as I ; and what a heroine her mother was — at least I have not forgotten this story of the latter. She was coming home late at night, with two of the old pensioners as patrol, walking behind the coach. She was asleep, and was awakened by three footpads, one of whom held a pistol 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 357 at her breast. She coolly put her head out of the other window, and said, ' Fire ! ' The patrol fired, and shot the robber. The daughter does not degenerate. Second P.S. There is not a word of truth in the report about Jamaica ; such endless lies are coined every day, that one is afraid of writing a word of news before it is musty with age. 1696. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, May 4, 1776. Do you think I have a Duchess to deplume every day, that you bid me write to you again already ? Unconscion able divine, voracious appetite ! think of my poor swelled fingers that sigh after repose ; think of my quivering ankles, that will carry me to no mart of news. I am here these two days, smelling my lilacs, and listening to my night ingales, and leaving the wicked town to the young and healthy. I did not utinam that sedes senectae should be my fate, that I should be able to do nothing but sit in my garden ; but I am content hitherto, though I doubt the rest of my days will be stUl less comfortable ; you might gild them if you would, but your letter hesitates whether you shall come southward or not this summer ; remember, I must not calculate without my host the gout. Well, let me see the drawing you talk of, and which yet I must wait two posts before I know whether I am to see or not. You must have a mighty opinion of my patience or in difference, when you put it to so tantalizing a trial; be assured I have neither ; neither the virtue of commanding my desires, nor the apathy that looks like commanding them. Those same desires of mine, it is true, are exceedingly con tracted of late years, but then I valde vdlo what I do volo. 358 To the Bev. William Mason [1776 My curiosity about anything you draw or write is augmented in proportion as it is decayed in general: my eyes are grown stronger as my other utensils are enfeebled. They twinkle with eagerness when you tell me of your drawing, or your Garden being finished. The Countess of Bristol retired to Paris incontinently. A ne exeat regno came forth the night she was gone ! a strange neglect in her adversaries ! Don't let us talk of her any more ; yes, I will teU you what the droll caustic Lord Abercorn said. Somebody hoped his Lordship had not suffered by the trial ; he replied, ' Nobody suffered by it.' They write to me from London that the provincial army, having been reinforced, had prepared to storm Boston, and had begun to cannonade it, and that General Howe, unable to maintain his post, had withdrawn with all his forces to Halifax. I had heard this on Thursday before I came out of town, but did not believe it \ for the Americans have done nothing yet that has given me a high opinion of their generalship. And that Halifax was left for Howe to retreat to is hitherto incomprehensible, not to me, for I am ignorance itself ; but everybody says so, and you know everybody is always in the right. Soame Jenyns has pubhshed a confirmation of the Christian religion from internal evidence. Pray was not his Origin of Evil a little heterodox? I have dipped a little into this new piece, and thought I saw something like irony, but to be sure I am wrong, for the Ecclesiastical Court are quite satisfied. I must seal my letter, and leave my blue room to be seen by Prince Tuzupoff, who sent for a card of admission. We have a torrent of foreigners in England, and unfortunately they are all sent hither, but then Letteb 1696. — ' It was the case; Howe evacuated Boston on March 6,' 1776. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 359 they comprehend nothing, and are gone in half an hour. I have read an account of Strawberry in a book called Londres; in which my name is Eobert, my house lives at Putney, the book-cases in the libraiy are of inlaid woods, and I have not a window but is entirely of painted glass. This is called seeing and describing. Adieu ! Yours ever, H. W. 1697. To the Eev. William Mason. May 14, 1776. You are not apt to express yourself unintelligibly, nor I, I hope, to misunderstand you ; I did not expect a drawing in colour, but with the pen, in chiaroscuro, which I like better on some subjects than in oil. I am still sorry it is not to be in the Exhibition. I am but this minute come to town, and know nothing but from the papers, which say everything prospers with the Americans. As they are driving out all the Scotch, I conclude the Duchess of Kingston wUl contribute another bank-note '. Do you, or do you not, ever come to town again ? do not be enigmatic in a reply to this question. Yours ever, H. W. 1698. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry HiU, May 17, 1776. As I knew no more than the newspapers would tell you, I did not announce to you the retreat of the King's army from Boston. Great pains were taken, and no wonder, to soften this disgrace. Such arts may serve a moment, Lettee 1697.— 1 She had contributed fifty pounds towards the relief of the North American clergy, t 360 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 but the truth emerges, unless some advantage compensates — and as yet, that is neither the case, nor seems likely to be. What is or will be the fate of General Howe or his army cannot be known for some time — I doubt his prospect is not fair. Many think Quebec itself is gone1, and that the ministry know it. The American war begins to lose its popularity. I saw in the papers to-day that your younger sister 2 is dead. I tell it you without ceremony : I believe you never was acquainted with her ; nor was I. My principal reason for writing now, is to send you a letter of attorney, without which Sir Edward and I cannot receive our salary : you will be so good as to have it witnessed by any two Englishmen, and return it as soon as you can. I hope this slight one is all the trouble we shall give you. By the long interval, I trust Lady Lucy is quite out of danger, and your nephew at ease about her. We swarm with new peers and peeresses, English, Scotch, and Irish ; you will see the two former in the Gazette ; the last are known, but not yet declared. We have coveys of foreigners too, particularly French : I have given two dinners here lately to the latter. Is it not shameful to send such a note as this so far? If I would have recourse to little arts, I might have transcribed the list of peerages, which would have reached to the bottom of the page ; but a bead-roll of unknown names would only tire you. It has long been a settled point that we cannot correspond about obscure persons, as many of these are. You are a stranger to common actors : Letter 1698. — 1 This was not the the besiegers. case ; General Carleton held out until 2 The two younger sisters of Sir May, when the town was relieved by Horace Mann were married to two the arrival of a British squadron. gentlemen of the name of Foote, in Carleton then sallied out and routed Kent. Walpole. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 361 like heroic tragedies, we can deal only in very great person ages. Even newspapers have the advantage of me, for they may detail births, deaths, and marriages. The summer will probably not be so barren as that season generally is, though the great campaign will scarce begin before August ; yet Quebec and Halifax must be fruitful of some thing, and perhaps Virginia and New York : but you are no vulture, and do not desire to banquet on battles. In one word, my letters, written for your information, must depend on events ; and when they are short, or none, you will excuse it ; and now that half my letter has been an apology, it is best to put an end to it. May 18th. Your letter of the 4th is this moment arrived, with others from France, and would enable me to cancel my last paragraphs. I am heartUy sorry for your accounts of Lady Lucy, but cannot believe in the contagion of con sumptions, especially in a better climate. Were it catching, it would be still more common here than it is. The chUd may indeed be affected, as partaking of the mother's con stitution ; but I, who have little faith in physicians, have none at all in those of Italy, where physic is as much an old woman as rehgion. As soon as I go to town, I will inquire into the etiquette of your proxyhood3. The King gives plate to his god children ; you, I dare to say, are to give nothing, and indubitably have no particular dress. Here I think the lord or lady who represent, ride backwards and alone in a royal coach ; as your own is a representative of the King's, no doubt it will do ; but you shall know in time. In the present state of America, the estate of Tortola is not worth a lock of wool, nor would anybody purchase it 3 Sir Horace was to stand godfather for the King to a child of Earl Cowper. Walpole. 362 To Sir Horace Mann [me but for a song. By the abstract ofthe letter to your nephew, the best pretensions seem to be in your brother's children, though by the property being reverted to the crown, you or your nephew might ask it. If obtained, it would certainly be advisable to sell it, for the expense of improving such grants is enormous, and can rarely be advantageous but to those who inhabit the spot. Proprietors are exposed to all sorts of disadvantages, and are enormously cheated by their agents, under every difficulty of prosecution. I know Mr. Duane, who has one of the fairest characters of the law, is old and very rich ; and whatever he may have thought of formerly, perhaps does not think of the purchase at present. It will be long, I fear, ere American improve ments revert to their late rapidity — however, the moment makes the boon a less favour to ask or grant. A great revolution has happened in France. Monsieur de Maurepas and Vergennes, either not to burn their own fingers, or to involve Turgot (of whom the former was grown jealous) and Malesherbes in a scrape, set the latter on representing to the Queen that she ought to abandon M. de Guisnes4. Her Majesty, and consequently the public, laughed at him. He, who hated his place, asked to resign, and it was at last granted. But to-day's letters add, that Turgot is also dismissed, and the King has thanked M. de Guisnes for his services and made him a Due a brevet. This implies what I have said these six months, that a woman who passes every night with a man, however unmanly and unwomanly, would prevail at last, if he passed no moments with any other woman. Malesherbes is the best of men, but void of all ambition. Turgot has the ambition of reforming the nation, and blessing the * Guines and Turgot had quar- The Queen favoured Guines as an relied, and Guines had in conse- adherent of Choiseul, whom she quence been recalled by LOuis XVI. wished to restore to power. 1776] To the Bev. WiUiam Mason 363 people ; is intrepid, indifferent to fortune, and determined to carry his points, or fall. Such men, friends of human kind, could not think of war, however fair the opportunity we offered to them. Poor France, and poor England ! Choiseul, if not Choiseul, some Louvois or other, will rise out of this fall of patriot philosophers ; and then we shall be forced to see the wisdom of the Stamp Act, and of persisting in taxing America ! Somebody rings at the gate, but I have said enough to furnish you with reflections. Monsieur de Noailles is named Ambassador hither, but that does not comfort me. May 20. I saw Lady Holdernesse 5 to-night and consulted her, and found I had been right in all my directions. You can give nothing unless you are ordered ; and as you cannot possibly go in one of the King's coaches, need not ride backwards in your own. I have neither room, nor more to say if I had. Postscript. You must fill up the blank with the date, and insert the name of William Suckling, Esq., after the words in the blank authorize and appoint. After W. Suckling, add, Deputy Collector ofthe Customs, of New North Street, Red Lion Square. I have writ the words necessary with a pencil. 1699. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, May 20, 1776. By my being here for some days I did not receive your drawing so soon as I ought to have done, nor even knew it was arrived. I thank you for it and like it excessively. You have done full justice to Gray ; I am sorry he cannot 5 One of the Ladies of the Bedohamber to Queen Charlotte. Walpole. 364 To Sir Horace Mann [i776 see it, for it is as fine as Mr. Bentley's drawings for the rest of his Odes. I admire particularly the figure of Mista, black terrific maid ', who has a masculine gait that put me in mind of old Leveridge 2, when he used to act Hecate in Macbeth. I hope you will draw the Descent of Odin, too, which I love as much as any of Gray's Works. I never was fond of the Triumphs of Owen. To-night I have received (here in town) from Mr. Ston- hewer your second Garden 3 ; it has my fullest imprimatur. I thought the beginning a little cold, but it soon rises into charming poetry, and from the 210th line is more beautiful than the first book. I like the ' sheep devouring the lawn into verdure,' and from thence all is quite to my taste. 'The dusty Sabbath ' is admirable, but above all I am touched with the scene of cottage children, which is equal to any thing you ever wrote ; so are the lines on their sorrow and smiles. The story of Abdolonimus finishes the whole nobly. Write away, write away, and if you wUl not come to town — write away ; yet I do wish now and then to see such a priest of Apollo. Adieu ! P.S. This was not sent so soon as it ought to have been by an accident. 1700. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, May 27, 1776. This fatal year puts to the proof the nerves of my friend ship! I was disappointed of seeing you when I had set Lettee 1699. — i See Gray's Fatal produced with music stated to have Sisters. been partly composed by him. 2 Richard Leveridge, born about 3 Probably the second book of 1670, d. 1758; a singer and composer Mason's poem The English Flower of songs. In the first capacity he Garden. acted Hecate in Macbeth when it was 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 365 my heart on it ; and now I have lost Mr. Chute l ! It is a heavy blow ; but such strokes reconcile oneself to parting with this pretty vision, life ! What is it, when one has no longer those to whom one speaks as confidentiaUy as to one's own soul ? Old friends are the great blessing of one's latter years — half a word conveys one's meaning. They have memory of the same events, and have the same mode of thinking. Mr. Chute and I agreed invari ably in our principles ; he was my counsel in my affairs, was my oracle in taste, the standard to whom I submitted my trifles, and the genius that presided over poor Straw berry ! His sense decided me in everything ; his wit and quickness Uluminated everything. I saw him oftener than any man ; to him in every difficulty I had recourse, and him I loved to have here, as our friendship was so entire, and we knew one another so entirely, that he alone never was the least constraint to me. We passed many hours together without saying a syllable to each other; for we were both above ceremony. I left him without excusing myself, read or wrote before him, as if he were not present. Alas ! alas ! and how self presides even in our grief! I am lamenting myself, not him ! — no, I am lamenting my other self. HaU is gone ; the other remains solitary. Age and sense will make me bear my affliction with submission and composure — but for ever — that httle for ever that remains, I shall miss him. My first thought will always be, 'I will go talk to Mr. Chute on this'; the second, 'alas! I cannot ' ; and therefore judge how my ltfe is poisoned ! I shall only seem to be staying behind one that is set out a Uttle before me. Mr. Chute for these last two or three years was much broken by his long and repeated shocks of gout, yet was Letteb 1700. — ' John Chute, Esq., of the Vine in Hampshire ; the last of the male line. Walpole. 366 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 amazingly well, considering he had suffered by it from twenty to seventy-three ! StUl as he never had had it in his head or stomach, I never was alarmed till last summer, when he had a low lingering fever, and sickness and pain in his breast, with returns of an excessive palpitation at his heart, which formerly much alarmed me, but of which he had been free for some years. He got better and went to the Bath, which gave him the gout, and he returned quite well ; so well, that, alarmed at our situation, he thought of drawing some money out of the stocks and buying an annuity, saying he thought his Ufe as good as any man's for five years. I am sure I thought so too. On Thursday last, being surprised at his not calling on me for three days, which was unusual, I went to him and was told that he was very iU. I found him in bed ; he had so violent a pain in his breast that two days before he had sent for Dr. Thomas, whom he had consulted in the summer, though of all men the most averse to physicians. Thomas had given him an hundred drops of laudanum and assa- foetida. Mr. Chute said, ' It is not the gout ; I have had my palpitation, and fear it is something of a polypus.' Thus, perfectly reasonable, though with much more indifference than he who was all spirit and eagerness used to have, I attributed it to the laudanum, and indeed he desired me to leave him, as he was heavy, and wanted to sleep. He dozed all that evening, and had no return of pain. On Friday morning, still without pain. I saw him again. He had taken more assafcetida, but no more laudanum ; yet, when I said I trusted the pain was gone, he said, ' I do not know ; the effects of the laudanum are not yet gone.' I said I thought that impossible ; that the pain would have surmounted the laudanum by that time, if the pain were not removed. I was coming hither on business, and charged his gentleman to send for me if the pain returned. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 367 On Saturday morning I rejoiced at not receiving even a letter by the post, and concluded all was weU. This dream of satisfaction lasted aU that day and Satur day night. I knew he would take no more laudanum, unless the pain returned, and that then I should be adver tised. But, oh, unhappy ! yesterday, just as I had break fasted, and was in the garden, I heard the bell at the gate ring, and wondered, as it was but ten o'clock, who could come to me so early. I went to see, and met my valet de chambre, with a letter in his hand, who said, 'Oh, Sir, Mr. Chute is dead ! ' In a word, he had continued quite easy till three that morning, when he said, ' Who is in the room ?' His own gentleman replied, ' I, Sir !' and, going to the bed, found him very UI, ran to call help, and, returning as quick as possible, saw him dead ! It was certainly a polypus ; his side immediately grew black as ink. A charming death for him, dearest friend ! And why should I lament ? His eyes, always short-sighted, were grown dimmer, his hearing was grown imperfect, his hands were all chalk-stones and of Uttle use, his feet very lame— yet how not lament ? The vigour of his mind was strong as ever ; his powers of reasoning clear as demonstration ; his rapid wit astonishing as at forty, about which time you and I knew him first. Even the impetuosity of his temper was not abated, and aU his humane virtues had but increased with his age. He was grown sick of the world; saw very, very few persons ; submitted with unparalleled patience to all his sufferings ; and, in five-and-thirty years, I never once saw or heard him complain of them, nor, pas sionate as he was, knew him fretful. His impatience seemed to proceed from his vast sense, not from his temper : he saw everything so clearly and immediately, that he could not bear a momentary contradiction from folly or defective reasoning. Sudden contempt broke out, particularly on 368 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 politics, which, having been fixed in him by a most sensible father, and matured by deep reflection, were rooted in his inmost soul. His truth, integrity, honour, spirit, and abhorrence of all dirt, confirmed his contempt ; and even I, who am pretty warm and steady, was often forced to break off politics with him, so impossible was it to be zealous enough to content him when I most agreed with him. Nay, if I disputed with him, I learnt something from him, and always saw truth in a stronger and more summary light. His possession of the quintessence of argument reduced it at once into axioms, and the clearness of his ideas struck out flashes' of the brightest wit. He saw so suddenly and so far, that, as Mr. Bentley said of him long ago, ' His wit strikes the more you analyse it, and more than at first hear ing ; he jumps over two or three intermediate ideas, and couples the first with the third or fourth.' Don't wonder I pour out my heart to you ; you knew him, and know how faithfully true all I say of him. My loss is most irreparable. To me he was the most faithful and secure of friends, and a delightful companion. I shall not seek to replace him. Can I love any that are old, more than I have had reason for loving them ? and is it possible to love younger, as one loved an habitual old friend of thirty-five years' standing ? I have young relations that may grow upon me, for my nature is affectionate, but can they grow old friends ? My age forbids that. Still less can they grow companions. Is it friendship to explain half one says? One must relate the history of one's memory and ideas ; and what is that to the young, but old stories? No, my dear Sir, you could be that resource, but I must not think of it — I must not be selfish. I must do what I ought to do, whUe I remain here ; pass my time as amusingly as I can ; enjoy the friends I have left ; drink my grief in silence — it is too 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 369 sincere for parade ; and what cares the world about my private sensations ? Or what has an old man to do but to try to be forgotten ; and to remember how soon he will be so ? Forgive this expansion of my heart ; it was necessary to me. I wiU not often mention poor Mr. Chute even to you. His loss is engraven on my soul, and real grief does not seek for applause. Could the world's plaudit comfort me, sit with me, hear me, advise me ? Did it know Mr. Chute's worth as well as I did ? Does it love me as well? When it does, I will beg its compassion. I have done, and will now show you I am master of myself, and remember you, and consider that at this distance of time you cannot feel what I do, and must be anxious about public affairs. If I indulged my own feehngs, I should forswear thinking of the public. He is gone to whom I ran with every scrap of news I heard ; but I promised to forget myself: I will go take a walk, shed a tear, and return to you more composed. I take up my pen again, and fear my last sentences have made you expect some news. I know none ; except that I think the intoxication of this country begins to wear off. The stocks have taken the alarm, and the ministers have felt it some time. The change in the French councUs has changed the spirits of ours. I believe almost any peace would be welcome to them. I doubt the Americans have experienced too much of our inabiUty to hurt them ; and as I have no great faith in virtue tempted by power, I expect that the American leaders, having too fair a field before them, wiU not easUy part with dictatorships and consulships to retire to their private ploughs. Oh madness! to have squandered away such an empire! Now we tremble at France, which America enabled us to resist. How naturally our ideas hang on our country, even when all future ages are the same to one who is going to leave it ! What wiU it WALPOLE. IX B b 370 To Viscount Nuneham [i776 be to me a few years hence, whether England shrinks back to its little insular insignificance under George the Third or George the Tenth? Yet, as our minds seldom roam into the future affairs of the world, we rejoice or grieve over the state of our country according to the condition in which we leave it at our departure. Else why do people nurse visions of pride about their own descendants? How long do the greatest and most ancient famihes last ? What a speck in rolhng ages does the longest genealogy occupy ! — but I will moralize no more. To-day's misfortune has given a wise cast to my mind. Spirits and foUy will have their turn again, and perhaps are as wise. To act with common sense according to the moment, is the best wisdom I know ; and the best philosophy, to do one's duties, take the world as it comes, submit respectfully to one's lot, bless the Goodness that has given so much happiness with it, whatever it is, and despise affectation, which only makes our weakness more contemptible, by showing we know that we are not what we wish to appear. Adieu ! 1701. To Viscount Nuneham. I am very sorry, my dear Lord, to have missed seeing you both yesterday and to-day ; and so I always am, as your goodness to me is excessive, and most gratefully felt. I wished particularly to ask a favour, which is that your Lordship will do me the honour of dining at Strawberry Hill some day before you go out of town; and I flatter myself Lady Nuneham wUl do so too, though she ought to be ashamed to come so near my printing house, when she is so cruel as to refuse to do it the honour it is so ambitious of. Any day after the Birthday will be equal to me, and if you both condescend, I will beg Lord and Lady Jersey to be so good as to meet you. Letter 1701. — Endorsed May 1776. 1776] To the Bev. William Cole 371 Are you thunder-struck or laughter-struck with the revolution in the Penetralia1? Whither shall we go if Lord Solon 2 and Bishop Plato * are not perfect enough to form young Montezuma, the future Emperor of America? I hear even MUe. Crumb * is no longer our Mie. Yours most devotedly, H. W. 1702. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, June 1, 1776. Mr. Granger's papers have been purchased by Lord Mountstewart, who has the portrait-frenzy as well as I ; and, though I am the head of the sect, I have no longer the rage of propagating it, nor would I on any account take the trouble of revising and pubhshing the MSS. Mr. Granger had drowned his taste for portraits in the ocean of biography; and, though he began with elucidating prints, he at last only sought prints that he might write the lives of those they represented. His work was grown and growing so voluminous, that an abridgement only could have made it useful to collectors. I am not surprised that you will not assist Dr. Kippis 1 : Bishop Laud and William Prynne could never agree. You are very justly more averse to Mr. Masters, who is a prag matic fellow, and at best troublesome. If the agate knives you are so good as to recommend to me can be tolerably authenticated, have any royal marks, or, 1 An allusion to the changes in by the Queen to enter the royal ser- the establishment of the Prince of vice. According to Horace Walpole, Wales and Prince Frederick. the favour at court of Lord and Lady 2 Lord Holdernesse, who had re- Holdernesse was indirectly due to signed the post of Governor to the this lady's influence. Princes. Letter 1702. — 1 Andrew Eippis, 3 Markham, Bishop of Chester, dis- D.D. (1725-1795), a Nonconformist. missed from his post as Preceptor. He had undertaken to prepare the 4 Mile. KhrBme, a Swiss Pro- second edition of the Biographia testant. She was governess to Lady Britannica. Holdernesse's daughter until induced B b 2 372 To Sir Horace Mann [17 76 at least, old setting of the time, and will be sold for two guineas, I should not dislike having them, though I have scarce room to stick a knife and fork. But U I trouble you to pay for them, you must let me know all I owe you already, for I know I am in your debt for prints and pamphlets, and this new debt wiU make the whole con siderable enough to be remitted. I have lately purchased three apostle-spoons to add to the one you was so kind as to give me. What is become of Mr. Essex? does he never visit London? I wish I could tempt him thither or hither. I am not only thinking of building my offices in a collegiate style, for which I have a good design and wish to consult him, but I am actuaUy wanting assistance at this very moment, about a smaller gallery that I wish to add this summer ; and which, i£ Mr. Essex was here, he should build directly. It is scarce worth asking him to take the journey on purpose, though I would pay for his journey hither and back, and would lodge him here for the necessary time. I can only beg you to mention it to him as an idle jaunt, the object is so trifling. I wish more that you could come with him. Do you leave your poor parishioners and their souls to themselves ? i£ you do, I hope Dr. Kippis will seduce them. Adieu ! dear Sir. Yours ever, H. W. 1703. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, June 5, 1776. My letters grow scarce or multiply according as the season is fruitful of events or not. These last days have been very prolific. The freshest incidents, and those that will interest you the most, are from America, and have raised the hopes that a fortnight ago were exceedingly desponding. The provincials have again attempted to 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 373 storm Quebec, and been repulsed with great loss by the conduct and bravery of Carleton1, who, Mr. Conway has aU along said, would prove himself a very able general. Succours have since arrived in the town. The remarkable General Lee" is taken prisoner by General Clinton in Carolina ; as the Americans say, by his own treachery : however, though the fact is not doubted, as it comes from themselves, the story is very dark. General Howe is arrived safe at Halifax, some say, having been repulsed at New York3. The American Admiral Hopkins, with three or four ships, has been worsted and disgraced by a single frigate*. Your Bible, the Gazette, will tell you more particulars, I suppose, for I have not yet seen it ; and the a' la mains5 of the court have given Howe a victory, and Hopkins chains, which I do not believe will appear in that chronicle ; however, you may certainly sing some Te Deums in your own chapel. These triumphs have come on the back of a very singular revolution which has happened in the Penetralia, and made very great noise. Yesterday se'nnight it was declared that the Bishop of Chester6 and Mr. Jackson7, Preceptor and Sub-preceptor to the Prince of Wales, were dismissed, and that Lord Holdernesse and Mr. Smelt 8, Governor and Sub-governor, had resigned their posts; Lord Bruce9 and Dr. Hurd10, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, being named Letter 1703. — 1 Afterwards Sir main.' Guy Carleton, Knight of the Bath, 6 Dr. Markham, afterwards Arch- and Commander at New York till bishop of York. Walpole. the Peace. Walpole. 7 Cyril Jackson (1746-1819). He 2 This did not prove true at that took orders soon after his dismissal, time, though it did happen after- and was Dean of Christ Church, wards. Walpole. Oxford, 1783-1809. 3 This was not the case. 8 Leonard Smelt, Esq. Walpole. 4 The Glasgow, commanded by 9 Bruce Brudenel Bruce, youngest Captain Tyringham Howe. The en- brother of the Earl of Cardigan. gagement took place on April 6, Walpole. 1776, off the coast of Connecticut. I0 Dr. Hurd was afterwards Bishop 6 Abbreviation of ' nouvelles a la of Worcester. Walpole. 374 To Sir Horace Mann [me their successors, and the former declared Earl of AUesbury. No reason whatever was assigned for so total a change, which did not allay the astonishment. It is now known that on Lord Holdernesse's return from the south of France he found a great alienation from him in the minds of his royal pupils ", which he attributed to Jackson. This grew so bad, that after vainly complaining of Jackson, and as vainly having obtained reproof, the Bishop, who seemed to be the instigator of the manoeuvre and subsequent disobedience, was turned out with his instrument, and the Earl saw it hopeless to try to recover his authority. Mr. Smelt, promoted by him, would not survive him. I make no comments — your own mind wiU suggest alarming reflections on the prospect of a scene that has twice happened since the family came over 12. What wUl you say, if out of this change of decoration, another has happened already ; yes, already ! Lord Bruce, who had taken seisin, retired abruptly into the country, without asking or taking leave. On inquiry where he was and when he would return, his colleague said he had no thoughts of returning. It is said that his mad wife13, Mr. Hoare's daughter, had written a piteous letter, promising she should die if deprived of her dear Lord ; but must not her dear Lord be as frantic, to quit in so indecent a manner ? Have not I told you long that we are all mad ? Whence do you think the successor is chosen? From the self-same family. It is the Duke of Montagu. Here is a short letter, which with any address I might have made a folio ; but I content myself with giving you 11 The Prince of Wales, and Prince ls Susanna (d. 1783), daughter of Frederick, Bishop of Oshaburgh, Henry Hoare, of Stourhead, Wilt- afterwards Duke of York. Walpole. shire ; m. (1) Charles Boyle, Viscount 12 An allusion to the quarrels in Dungarvan (eldest son of fifth Earl the household of George III when of Cork) ; (2) Thomas Brudenell Prince of Wales. See letter to Mann Bruce, Baron Bruce of Tottenham, of Dec. 11, 1752. afterwards Earl of Ailesbury. 1776] To the Bev. William Cole 375 the quintessence of events. My own mind loses every year the roots that hold it to the world. There is little pleasure in thinking, when one has no longer those to whom and with whom one loved to communicate reflections. One's own country becomes another country when the dramatis personae are totaUy changed. Young princes and their favourites only give one a peep into the history of the future world, as if a printer brought one the wet sheets of a book that is to be pubUshed after one's death. If one outlives one's friends, it is being but a Strulbrug. Adieu ! 1704. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, June 11, 1776. I am grieved, and feel for your gout ; I know the vexations and disappointments it occasions, and how often it wUl return when one thinks it going or gone. It represents life and its vicissitudes. At last I know it makes one content when one does not feel actual pain — and what contents, may be called a blessing : but it is that sort of blessing that extinguishes hopes and views, and is not so luxurious but one can bear to relinquish it. I seek amuse ments now to amuse me ; I used to rush into them, because I had an impulse and wished for what I sought. My want of Mr. Essex has a httle of both kinds, and it is for an addition to this place, for which my fondness is not worn out. I shall be very glad to see him here either on the 20th or 21st of this present month, and shall have no engagement tUl the 23rd, and wUl gladly pay his journey. I am sorry I must not hope that you wUl accompany him. Yours ever, H. Walpole. 376 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 1705. To the Countess oe Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, June 20, 1776. If one could resign one's place, without being supposed going into opposition, I should certainly ask my sovereign lady's leave to quit the office of gazetteer ; and my motion would be as singular as my practice. Incapacity is my plea, and age the cause. It is a young world, and I neither Uve in it, nor am acquainted with it. I know nothing worth knowing, I do nothing worth doing — of what can I write ? — My old friends die off, I cannot make new, for the fewer ties one has to a world one is going to leave the better. I have been almost alone at Strawberry ever since your Ladyship left town. I came yesterday, and return to-morrow. Had there been any news, I should have heard — nay, perhaps I did, for I called at Mr. Beauclerk's in the evening, where I found Lord Pembroke, Lord Palmerston, Garrick, Burke, the Dean of Derry 1, Lord Eobert Spencer, and Mr. Gibbon ; but they talked so loud (not the two last), and made such a noise, and Lord Palmerston so much more noise with trying to talk, that it was impossible to know what they said, under the distance of a mUe from them. All I did learn was, that Miss Vernon * is not married. I should be very angry if she was, and you had said nothing of it ; and that another lady s, who has been on the brink of marrying as many Dukes as the Duchess of Argyll, is not yet Lady Maynard. It is pity; she deserves a peerage as much as most that have got them lately. The Binghams are incog. at Paris ; their letters of recommendation announced them Lettee 1705. — l Dr. Barnard. 3 Anne Parsons, known as Mrs. 2 Miss Henrietta Vernon married Horton, formerly the mistress of the on July 14, 1776 (as his second wife), Duke of Grafton. She married (in George Greville, second Earl of War- June or .July 1776) Charles Maynard, wick. second Viscount Maynard. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 377 as my Lord and Lady Lucan4, and the patents are still wind-bound. I smUed at your Ladyship's orders, but I think the person you gave me charge of is in no danger of what you appre hend, unless for debt. To make this a decent letter, I shall transcribe some lines that I found on my table on Sunday night. I had dined at Lady Blandford's, and the Beauclerks with Mr. Gibbon and Monsieur le Texier had been to drink tea with me in the meantime. The last wrote these lines in a moment, and they are certainly good for impromptus, — Si vous aviez seu qu'aujourdhui Dut venir dans votre castel La plus aimable mylady, Qui n'a nulle autre en son pareil;- Vous n'auriez bouge du cians, Et sans courir la pretantaine, Vous auriez attendu cent ans Plutot que perdre telle aubaime. Pourtant dans icelle visite Nous serions bien desappointes Sans la bonne Dame Marguerite, Qui nous a fait d'exceUent the. Elle a suspendu nos regrets, Et nous a prouvi comme un livre, Par ses soins et son scavoir vivre, Qu'a tels maitres sont tels valets. I am to have Mr. Essex to-morrow from Cambridge, to try if he can hang me on anywhere another room for Lady Di's drawings. I have turned the little yellow bed chamber below stairs into a beauty room, with the pictures I bought5, along with the Cowley, at Mr. Lovi- * Sir Charles Bingham was created prominent at the court of Charles II, on July 24, 1776, Baron Lucan of copied by Charles Jervas from the Castlebar, county Mayo. originals, and sold with his house 6 Nineteen portraits of persons at Hampton to Edward Lovibond 378 To Count Schuwalof [1776 bond's sale, but I could not place the drawings there, because I will have a sanctuary for them, not to be shown to all the profane that come to see the house, who in truth almost drive me out of my house. Adieu, Madam, remember this is summer, and that I am Methusalem. He left off writing news when he was past an hundred. 1706. To Count Schuwalof. Je me flatte, M. le Comte, que vous aurez recti avant cette lettre une petite caisse de Medalions, que j'ai adressee a notre bonne Amie de St. Joseph \ J'ai depense tout votre argent, mais la quantite n'est pas inconsiderable, et cepen dant il m'en reste encore deux a vous envoyer, que le Marchand avoit oublie, et qu'U ne m'a remis, qu'apres la Caisse partie. Parmi celles que vous avez, U y a une tete en profile de My Lord Chatham, que vous reconnoitrez tres facilement. Si vous etes content de mes soins, n'oserai- [je] pas me flatter que vous voulez bien me faire l'honneur d'etre votre commissionaire? II me sera bien sensible d'avoir occasion de vous faire souvenir de moi. Ce n'est point assurement que vous ne m'aiez bien trop distingue par la place que vous m'avez destine dans certain Portrait precieux que je n'ai pas la hardiesse de montrer. Mon estampe sera encore trop glorieuse si vous lui faites l'honneur de la garder dans votre chambre ; mais jamais je n'aurai le front de me faire encadrer avec Vous. Vous me privez de l'honneur de me vanter d'avoir votre portrait, et je vous supplie de ne pas attribuer a la fausse modestie ma re pugnance a occuper une place aussi honorable, et qui n'est (1724-1775), son of a Director of verbatim, et liberatim from facsimile the East India Company. Lovibond in Lescure's Correspondance de la wrote poetry and contributed to the Marquise du Deffand, vol. ii. pp. World. 560-1. Lettee 1706. — Not inC. ; reprinted 1 Madame du Deffand. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 379 pas faite pour un petit Homme comme moi, qui n'ai jamais rien fait de meritoire. Votre Portrait serait deprecie a cause de l'accessoire. Si vous me fachez, je vous ferai tenir a la main le Cardinal de Eichelieu, aussi Indigne d'etre votre Associe que ne 1'est, Monsr le Comte, votre tres devoue Serviteur De Strawberry Hill, ce 23 Juin 1776. HORACE Walpole. 1707. To the Countess oe Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, June 25, 1776. I assure you, my dear Madam, that it is no idleness that dictates my excuses. It would be my greatest satisfaction to be able to entertain every minute you could bestow on me ; nor is my nature idle ; but my summers are so solitary, or passed in such insipid company, my age weans me so much from the young and active world, and I care so little what it does, that I cannot write letters, without feeling that they want an apology. When I find I grow old, would it not be strange vanity to imagine that others do not perceive it? I never had parts that could afford to be diminished, and it is honest to give one's friends warning when the crack is begun. But I hate to talk of myself, even on the depreciating side, though much more excusable than its contrary. I have given you notice: you shall know everything I hear worth telling you ; but I cannot make brick with my Lady Greenwich's gazettes. I am extremely pleased with the new Countess of Warwick, though I think the Earl might have made a more suitable match without wandering out of the family *. Letteb 1707. — 1 Horace Walpole sister, Lady Louisa Fitzpatrick, mar- probably refers to Lord Ossory's own ried in 1779 to the Earl of Shelburne. 380 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [me I can easily conceive why a notable aunt2 did not think so. Before your Ladyship's letter arrived, I had heard of a mysterious and very private party on the water, which left me no doubt. There was only Lady Notable, Miss Vernon, the Earl, and his brother. On perceiving they were seen, the ladies held down their heads, and Miss Vernon landed with her hood quite down over her face. How certain should we be of governing the peer, if we could have persuaded him to steal his bride ! for you know, Madam, one always governs those one has cun ningly made marry. Pray continue your goodness to the two other sisters, that they may spitefully be matched to dukes ; or was it to show more consummate address than another protectress ? Forgive me if I suspect that it was not mere kindness to the bride that operated the service, though I hope it will prove real happiness to her, who is so intituled to it. I heard t'other day, from very good authority, that all Ireland is America wad— that was the expression. It was answered, ' So is all the Continent.' Is it not odd that this island should, for the first time since it was five years old, be the only country in Europe in its senses ? The case is, England was never governed by Scotland before, where a very profound author has pronounced the wisest heads in Christendom grow ; and yet the Scots do not love that author with all his impartiality. Yours, Madam, &c, Dunce Scotus. P.S. I have just been told a good story of the Duchess of Queensberry. She dined at the Dean of Lincoln's " with 2 Most likely the Duchess of Bed- s Hon. and Rev. James Yorke ford, aunt of the Miss Vernons and (d. 1808), fifth son of first Earl of of Lady Louisa Fitzpatrick. Hardwicke ; Dean of Lincoln, 1762- 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 381 much company. After dinner, the ladies retiring, found themselves shut into a drawing-room without any con venience, and with but one door. When they could keep their patience no longer, the Duchess, opening the door into the parlour, said, ' Mr. Dean, you have given us an ad mirable dinner, good wine, and an exceUent dessert, but you must remember that we are not residentiaries.' I enclose a letter of another Duchess, which is not much inferior to her epistle to Foote. I believe you may trust to its being genuine, for I received it from Italy. My lock of hay begs its respects to your hay mountains, and hopes they are in a fair way. 2nd P.S. Though your Ladyship would persuade me to cast my slough, I assure you I am not without flatterers of another sort, who encourage me in my Tom-Hearneality. I have just received a poem called Wittenham Hill, in which I am hailed as a father of ancient lore, What means (0 ! for a Walpole's antique skUl !) What means the milk-white cross on yonder hUl ! I can but laugh at my own party-coloured life — sometimes at Paris, and an editor of Grammont; sometimes playing all night at pharaoh with Madame de Mirepoix, or at loo with a greater favourite ; now writing fables for Lady Anne, and verses for the Graces ; then accused as a plotting repubUcan ; whUe, at best, the truth is, as I told the late Lord Holland when I set up my printing press, Some have at first for wits, then poets past, Turn'd printers next, and prov'd plain fools at last. 3rd P.S. They are so amazed and charmed at Paris with Lady Bingham's miniatures, that the Duke of Orleans has 81; Bishop of St. Davids, 1774-79; of Gloucester, 1779-81; of Ely, 1781- 1808. 382 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [me given her a room at the Palais Eoyal to copy which of his pictures she pleases. The Queen, on the Due d'Aiguilion's losing his only daughter, begged of the King to permit him to go wherever he pleases, except to court, with positive command never to appear there. This shows her Majesty's power ; and Mr. Falkener *, who has just returned from Italy through France, told me last night that it is generally believed M. de Choiseul will be replaced ; that they have thirty-six ships ready, and are even pressing carpenters into the service. What a prospect ! Who wUl at last be the America-mad ? 4th P. S. Pray do not give a copy of the Duchess's letter ; for I have no ill-wiU to her, and do not want to spread her follies. Ma CHERE Amie, Calais, le 26 Avril, 1776 ». J'ai l'honneur de vous annoncer que les Peres ont decidez que la sentance de la Cour Chretienne ne devoit pas justifier le mariage que j'ai contracte avec le Due de Kingston. Ils ont dishonnerez la Cour Ecclesiastique dont les dogmes ont ete suivis inviolablement pendant 1475 annees. En detrui- sant cette cour de justice je suis la malheureuse sacrifice, mais ils ne peuvent enlever mon bien, Us n'ont pas ordonner pour me punir que de leur faire la reverence. Ce fut tout pour le pubhc, mais vis-a-vis de yous, ma chere amie, je vous confesse que je reste dans un etonnement sans egale. L'ame fremit contre 1'injustice, qu'on ma faite. J'espere que si vous voulez penser a moi, vous serez persuadee que j'ai resistee pendant 20 annees a accepter la main du Due de Kingston. Scachant que le Comte de Bristol d'a present, autrefois Mr. Hervey, pretendoit avoir des droits sur moi, 4 William Augustus Fawkener, (See Notes and Queries, Aug. 4, 1900.) eldest son of Sir Everard Fawkener, Vernon Smith, who first printed Knight; Envoy to Lisbon, 1786; to this letter in his edition of Walpole's Florence, 1787 ; to St. Petersburg, Letters to Lady Ossory, gives the 1790. He was also Clerk to the following note: — 'The spelling of Privy Council. this letter is as in the original, which 6 Enclosed in the previous letter, is in Kirgate's handwriting.' but hitherto printed separately. 1776] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 383 je ne l'auroit pas dans un age plus avancS risquee, j'ai done pris le parti de me marier qu'avec la permission de l'arche- v§que et la sentance de la Cour Ecclesiastique que j'ai eu l'honneur de vous montrer. Mon intention estoit pour le moins aussi bonne que mon sort est malheureux. Je suis done, ma chere amie, dans la Cour Ecclesiastique reconnue pour Duchesse de Kingston, avec les Peres comme Comtesse de Bristol. En ligne directe de ma propre maison il y a 350 ans, et pour les pas je les ayant toujours cedez a ceux qui vouloit les accepter — la grandeur et les richesses ne sont pour moi que des embarras. Je vous embrasse, et je suis de coeur et d'ame, ma chere amie, toujours a vous, Elizabeth, Duchesse de Kingston. Aussitot que la sentance fut passee je me suis embarqu^ pour Calais, car ces bons messieurs avoient desin de me retenir en Angleterre par un loi qu'on nomme a ne exeat regno, mais m'etant sauve U n'est plus question de ce malheur la ! Je vous prie d'assurer le Prince Connestable de mes respects, et de mime au deux Princes Cardinaux. 1708. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Strawberry Hill, June 30, 1776. I was very glad to receive your letter, not only because always most glad to hear of you, but because I wished to write to you, and had absolutely nothing to say till I had something to answer. I have lain but two nights in town since I saw you ; have been, else, constantly here, very much employed, though doing, hearing, knowing exactly nothing. I have had a Gothic architect from Cambridge to design me a gallery, which wUl end in a mouse, that is, in an hexagon closet of seven feet diameter. I have been making a beauty room, which was effected by buying two dozen of small copies of Sir Peter Lely} and hanging them up ; and I have been making hay, which 384 To fhe Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [me is not made, because I put it off for three days, as I chose it should adorn the landscape when I was to have company, and so the rain is come, and has drowned it. However, as I can even turn calculator when it is to comfort me for not minding my interest, I have discovered that it is five to one better for me that my hay should be spoUed than not ; for, as the cows wUl eat it if it is damaged, which horses will not, and as I have five cows and but one horse, is not it plain that the worse my hay is, the better ? Do not you with your refining head go, and, out of excessive friendship, find out something to destroy my system. I had rather be a philosopher than a rich man ; and yet have so little philosophy, that I had much rather be content than be in the right. Mr. Beauclerk and Lady Di have been here four or five days — so I had both content and exercise for my philosophy. I wish Lady Ailesbury was as fortunate ! The Pembrokes, ChurchUls, Le Texier, as you wUl have heard, and the Garricks have been with us. Perhaps, U alone, I might have come to you ; but you are all too healthy and har monious. I can neither walk nor sing; nor, indeed, am fit for anything but to amuse myself in a sedentary trifling way. What I have most certainly not been doing, is writing anything : a truth I say to you, but do not desire you to repeat. I deign to satisfy scarce anybody else. Whoever reported that I was writing anything, must have been so totally unfounded, that they either blundered by guessing without reason, or knew they lied — and that could not be with any kind intention ; though saying I am going to do what I am not going to do is wretched enough. Whatever is said of me without truth, anybody is welcome to beheve that pleases. In fact, though I have scarce a settled purpose about anything, I think I shall never write any more. I have 1776] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 385 written a great deal too much, unless I had written better, and I know I should now only write still worse. One's talent, whatever it is, does not improve at near sixty — yet, if I liked it, I dare to say a good reason would not stop my inclination; — but I am grown most indolent in that respect, and most absolutely indifferent to every pur pose of vanity. Yet without vanity I am become still prouder and more contemptuous. I have a contempt for my countrymen that makes me despise their approbation. The applause of slaves and of the foohsh mad is below ambition. Mine is the haughtiness of an ancient Briton, that cannot write what would please this age, and would not, if he could. Whatever happens in America, this country is undone. I desire to be reckoned of the last age, and to be thought to have lived to be superannuated, preserving my senses only for myself and for the few I value. I cannot aspire to be traduced like Algernon Sydney, and content myself with sacrificing to him amongst my lares. Unalterable in my principles, careless about most things below essentials, indulging myself in trifles by system, annihUating myself by choice, but dreading folly at an unseemly age, I contrive to pass my time agreeably enough, yet see its termination approach without anxiety. This is a true picture of my mind ; and it must be true, because drawn for you, whom I would not deceive, and could not, if I would. Your question on my being writing drew it forth, though with more seriousness than the report deserved — yet talking to one's dearest friend is neither wrong nor out of season. Nay, you are my best apology. I have always contented myself with your being perfect, or, if your modesty demands a mitigated term, I will say, unexceptionable. It is comical, to be sure, to have always been more solicitous about the virtue of one's friend than about one's own ; yet, I repeat WALPOLE. IX 0 C 386 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 it, you are my apology — though I never was so unreason able as to make you answerable for my faults in return ; I take them wholly to myself. But enough of this. When I know my own mind, for hitherto I, have settled no plan for my summer, I will come to you. Adieu ! 1709. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, July 10, 1776. Waes and rumours of wars ! Is your Bedfordshire mUitia ready, Madam? The Due de Chartres is at Cales, and even the stocks, who hitherto have been as dull as the country gentlemen, begin not to like it. The Duke of Eichmond, who is returned, thinks Maurepas will keep off the war as long as he can, and yet the Duke owns the preparations are prodigious ; and that Spain has insisted on this armament. Do they humour her in an armament, and yet mean nothing by it ? Where have we an army, except of Irish peers 1 ? When is Henrietta2 to take possession of Warwick Castle? Is a dun cow to be roasted whole, or boiled in Guy's caldron ? Lady Powis is gone for such an exploit on her son's coming of age. This is all I know upon earth, but that my hay is a perfect water souchy, and my roses and orange-flowers all drowned ; and I am such a heathen, that I am more sorry for my nosegays than my revenue. Have you had but a Patriot court ? that is, a thin one ? You see I am disposed, Madam, to pay my quit-rents, though I have but a pepper-corn ; but we that know nothing, can say nothing. Jemmy Brudenel 3, no doubt, can write volumes full of matter — happy man, say I. Letter 1709. — 1 Thirty Irish peers s Hon. James Brudenell, after- had recently been created. wards Earl of Cardigan, Master of 8 Miss Henrietta Vernon. the Robes to the King. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 387 He dwells amidst the royal famUy, And can of all our Harries, all our Edwards talk' of whom, thank Heaven ! there is a tolerable quantity. I shall be much better company when the French land; though, as I have a little money in the stocks, to be sure it will not be very pleasant. Adieu ! Madam ; write to me, that I may have something to answer at least. 1710. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, July 13, 1776. When the wind blows, wait for the echo. If your Ladyship believes all you read in the papers, I humbly pity you. Instead of crediting a quarter, I have the honour to think that there is little but lies in the accounts from America. I see regiments and ships sending every day, as if the ministers thought they had not half force enough there, though by their own accounts the business wUl be over before those that are going can pack up a nightcap. Instead of the war being near at an end, I believe we are going to have two more ; and as our army is in America, I hope France and Spain will be so punctUious as to go thither after it. If they have not given assurances they will, there does not seem much sense in sending every man out of the kingdom, unless as an excuse for non-resistance. However, as nothing is so fallible as conjectures built on reasoning, I choose to pin my faith on firmer ground. I dreamt that Lord Guilford was sent to the Congress, that the leaders immediately accepted pensions and Irish peer ages, and that their wives instantly hoisted pyramids of feathers on their heads to show that their hearts were entirely English. I give you my word this dream is true, and I prefer it to the Gazette itself. 4 Pope, Sat. viii. IL 103, 105 adapted, C C 2 388 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 Thus much for my political faith : now to answer your questions, Madam. What am I doing ? Strictly speaking, nothing : yet, according to the expressive old adage, I am as busy as a hen and one chick. I am obeying the Gospel, and putting my house in order, am ranging my prints and papers, am composing books, in the literal sense, and in the only sense I will compose books any more. I am pasting Henry Bunbury's * prints into a volume ; and as man is a contradiction, I am setting my house in order against I leave it — and yet am building a new room. I do not go to Bristol, for Lady Laura 2 is recovered, and I shall go for a few days to Brighthelmstone, because I am not recovered, and want the sea air to recover that strength I never had, and is not all returned. Surely there is enough of myself! Truly I know not whether the young Prince is inoculated or not. I suppose, as Pope says of Selkirk, ' if I Uve I shall love him,' but as yet he has not taken up an inch in my thoughts, which have vast difficulty in extending their affections to babes and sucklings. Even princes of fourteen3 do not enter into my litany. And this leads to another of your Ladyship's questions. Windsor is not the great castle, but its footstool, the small house where Queen Anne used to take a cheerful glass with Lady Masham. It is whispered that change of air has been recommended. Nay, the lookers-out are full of I know not what visions, pre sented to their wicked imaginations by certain rays that have flashed out of the cloud that lately hung over the A-B-C-dario. Bons mots are quoted worthy of young Ammon in his nonage. Another chimera is, that there is a visible Letteb 1710. — ' Henry William Walpole. Bunbury (1750-1811), second son of 2 Lady Laura Waldegrave. Rev. Sir William Bunbury, fifth s The Prince of Wales was nearly Baronet. He presented one of his fourteen. drawings(' Richmond Hill ') to Horace 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 389 atrophy and wasting. Now for my part, I am determined not to build any views on a fourth reign, like those late seers the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Bolingbroke ; because, if I should have the misfortune to survive to that period, I should probably be as much a child as I was when I was presented to George I, and therefore I declare I will never hear a word of politics under George IV. I came to town last night on a little business, and return to-morrow. The Duchess of Bristol was seen yesterday in this very town. More this deponent saith not. One word more, on our old quarrel, and I have done. Such letters as mine! I will tell you a fact, Madam, in answer to that phrase. On Mr. Chute's death, his executor sent me a bundle of letters he had kept of mine, for above thirty years. I took the trouble to read them over, and I bless my stars they were as silly, insipid things, as ever I don't desire to see- again. I thought when I was young and had great spirits, that I had some parts too, but now I have seen it under my own hand that I had not, I will never believe it under anybody's hand else ; and so I bid you good night. 1711. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, July 16, 1776. You will think I have been less periodically punctual than usual, but appearances only are against me, for I wrote to you a week ago by a person that is gone to Italy, though the Lord knows when you will receive it ; nor is it much matter, for I had nothing new to tell you, and write now only out of decorum. To be sure every day may produce news from America, but nothing has come since my last. I wish the probability of news may not be opened at a new war-office. The vast preparations in France, exacted as 390 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 they pretend by Spain, and not much more comfortable for that, either announce war, may beget it, or at least can easily be blown into a flame. Why we should tempt it, and yet not expect it, is a problem not soluble by my old-fashioned head. The Duchess of Bristol1 is returned — to avoid outlawry. The Earl, whom she has made a dowager, talks, and seems to act resolution of being divorced ; and the Eccle siastical Court, who has been as great a whore as either of them, affects to be ashamed, and thunders against the Duchess. In the meantime the Meadowses 2 prosecute the Earl for the whole receipt of the Kingston estate, as her Grace is his Countess. People cry out that the House of Lords cannot grant a divorce after such symptoms of collu sion. I beg their pardons ; I do not know what the House of Lords cannot do. WiU you take this for a letter ? It wUl, at least, do to keep a place for its predecessor, which was more portly, if not more substantial. If I would stoop to artifice, I could insert a list of so many new Irish lords, that there would be no room to sign my name. But what would you care for a bead-roll of mushrooms, half of whom, Uke your procession-nobUity at Florence3, will not be gentlemen under a generation or two ? They are like the Lord Bate man, whom George I made an Irish peer, to avoid making him a Knight of the Bath ; for, said he, ' I can make him a lord, but I cannot make him a gentleman.' Nay, aU these earls and barons may be well born for aught I know, but their very number makes them a mob — they are thirty. What is become of Mrs. Anne Pitt ? Lady Lucy Mann, I trust, was in less danger than her husband apprehended. Letter 1711. — l The Duchess of second son of Sir Philip. Walpole. Kingston. Walpole. s Citizens ennobled at Florence 2 Nephews of the Duke of King- are allowed to rank as nobles only ston by his only sister, Lady Frances at processions, till the third genera- Pierpoint, wife of Mr. Meadows, tion. Walpole. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 391 I have a high opinion of the sea, and am going to try its air myself, for I have not recovered my feet quite yet, and always found singular benefit from sea-breezes, which are all I shall try now, and on shore. One ought to try, though one must not imagine that strength is to return, when one is no boy, as it used to do. I have no such impertinent presumption, and always submit with profound deference to whatever penalties years impose, or that tyrant, the gout. Age has stUl its comforts. They who disdain them, and insist upon pleasures, do not understand their own interest. The most grievous part of old age is the loss of old friends : they have no succedaneum. Adieu ! 17th. The Duchess of Newcastle* died this morning, aged seventy-five. She was perfectly weU on Monday night, when she went to bed, was seized between two and three with an apoplexy and total loss of sense, and expired at eleven to-day. I just mention deaths of those you re member. To myself I seem Methuselem, for I can scarcely reckon twenty of those who formed the world when I came into it ; but, indeed, as my father was minister, I came into it at five years old. Sometimes I think this my second life, so totally is everything changed. I did flatter myself with being diverted at your surprise from so general an alteration of persons, objects, manners, as you would have found ; but there is an end of all that pleasing vision! I remember when my father went out of place, and was to return visits, which ministers are excused from doing, he could not guess where he was, finding himself in so many new streets and squares. This was thirty years ago. They have been building ever since, * LadyHenriettaGodolphin,eldest dolphin, by Henrietta, Duchess of daughter of the second Earl of Go- Marlborough. Walpole. 392 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [me and one would think had imported two or three capitals. London could put Florence into its fob-pocket ; but as they build so slightly, if they did not rebuUd, it would be just the reverse of Eome, a vast circumference of city surround ing an area of ruins. As its present progress is chiefly north, and Southwark marches south, the metropolis promises to be as broad as long. Eows of houses shoot out every way like a polypus ; and, so great is the rage of building everywhere, that, if I stay here a fortnight, without going to town, I look about to see if no new house is built since I went last. America and France must tell us how long this exuberance of opulence is to last ! The East Indies, I believe, wUl not contribute to it much longer. Babylon and Memphis and Eome probably, stared at their own downfall. Empires did not use to philosophize, nor thought much but pf themselves. Such revolutions are better known now, and we ought to expect them — I do not say we do. This little island will be ridiculously proud some ages hence of its former brave days, and swear its capital was once as big again as Paris, or — what is to be the name of the city that wUl then give laws to Europe — perhaps New York or Philadelphia. 1712. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, July 17, 1776. The enclosed is a charming copy of verses of Voltaire, at least the first part, and sent bien son ancienne verve. What a beautiful and pathetic line is Rit des catamites dont pleurent les provinces, and how applicable in every Paris ! and how apphcable just now! This is not my only business, Madam; I beg you will 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 393 send me a recommendatory letter to Mons. Hubert1 for Mr. Hardinge *, Lord Camden's nephew, who is going a trip to Geneva. You may truly say he is a very clever, amiable young man, a rising chancellor, if the amiable were rising to be chancellors ; and if you like to exaggerate, you may add that he will taste and understand Mons. Hubert, neither of which I believe, no more than if he was the present chancellor ; and yet he has taken to me, who am as unlike anything he has seen at the Temple, or on the circuit, as Mons. Hubert, with much less talents. No matter ; pray obUge me. I dined yesterday with Princess Amelie, with the Lords and Ladies Holdernesse, Spencer, Weymouth, the Lords Hertford and Ashburnham, the Ladies Anne Howard, Mary Coke, and Margaret Compton, Mrs. Howe, and Mr. Morrice. We had the finest fruit in the world, I mean in a world where there is fifty times more rain than sun, very little wine, and three long pools at commerce ; you may guess if Lord Weymouth was well diverted. Lord and Lady Carmarthen were to have been there, but the Duchess of Newcastle has had a stroke of apoplexy, and lies senseless. As I came home, two footpads, just at the entrance of my own Twickenham, stepped up to my footman on horseback, damned him and bid him stop. Luckily it was not David, but the young feUow, who rode up to the coachman and bid him drive on ; and so we shall not make a paragraph in the Letter 1712. — 1 Jean Huber (d. Senior Justice of the counties of about 1790), a native of Geneva. He Brecon, Glamorgan, and Radnor, had artistic tastes, and was par- 1787-1816. Hardinge was known to ticularly clever in cutting out like- Horace Walpole as early as 1770, nesses with scissors. when their correspondence (first 2 George Hardinge (1743-1816), published in Nichols' Literary Anee- son of Nicholas Hardinge, Clerk of dotes and lUustrations of Literature) the House of Commons, by Jane, began. After Hardinge's marriage daughter of Sir John Pratt, and in 1777 he went to live at Twicken- sister of Lord Camden; Solicitor- ham, in a small house called Rag- General to the Queen, 1782; Attor- man's Castle. ney-General to the Queen, 1794 ; 394 To the Bev. William Cole [me newspapers. I expected to hear a pistol calling after us, but the lad saw nothing but a large stick, which one of them held up at him. I shall not send him to America after Lord Winchelsea for his spirit s. 1713. To the Eev. William Cole. You are so good to me, my dear Sir, that I am quite ashamed. I must not send back your charming present, but wish you would give me leave to pay for it, and I shall have the same obligation to you, and still more. It is beautiful in form and colours, and pleases me excessively. In the meantime, I have, in a great hurry, for I came home but at noon to meet Mr. Essex, chosen out a few prints for you, such as I think you will like, and beg you to accept them: they enter into no one of my sets. I am heartily grieved at your account of yourself, and know no comfort but submission. I was absent to see General Conway, who is far from well — we must take our lot as it falls ! Joy and sorrow is mixed tiU the scene closes. I am out of spirits, and shall not mend yours ; Mr. Essex is just setting out, and I write in great haste, but am, as I have long been, Most truly yours, Strawberry Hill, July 23, 1776. H. W. 1714. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, July 24, 1776. I weote to you yesterday, dear Sir, not only in great haste, but in great confusion, and did not say half I ought to have done for the pretty vase you sent me, and for your constant obliging attention to me. All I can say is, that gratitude attempted, even in my haste and concern, to put * Lord Winchilsea was a volunteer with the King's army in America. 1776] To the Bev. William Cole 395 in its word : and I did not mean to pay you (which I hope you wUl reaUy aUow me to do), but to express my sensibility of your kindness. The fact was, that to avoid disappointing Mr. Essex, when I had dragged him hither from Cambridge, I had returned hither precipitately, and yet late, from Park Place, whither I went the day before to see General Conway, who has had a little attack of the paralytic kind. You, who can remember how very long and dearly I have loved so near a relation and particular friend, and who are fuU of nothing but gentle and friendly sensations, can judge how shocked I was to find him more changed than I expected. I suffered so much in constraining and commanding myself, that I was not sorry, as the house was full of relations, to have the plea of Mr. Essex, to get away, and come to sigh here by myself. It is, perhaps, to vent my concern that I write now. Mr. Conway is in no manner of danger, is better, his head nor speech are affected, and the physicians, who barely allow the attack to be of the paralytic nature, are clear it is local in the muscles of the face. StiU has it operated such a revolution in my mind, as no time, at my age, can efface. It has at once damped every pursuit which my spirits had even now prevented me from being weaned from, I mean of virtu. It is like a mortal distemper in myself, for can amusements amuse, if there is but a ghmpse, a vision, of outliving one's friends ? I have had dreams, in which I thought I wished for fame — it was not certainly posthumous fame at any distance ; I feel, I feel it was confined to the memory of those I love. It seems to me impossible for a man who has no friends to do anything for fame— and to me the first position in friendship is, to intend one's friends should survive one — but it is not reasonable to oppress you, who are suffering gout, with my melancholy ideas. Let me know as you mend. What I have said will tell you, what 396 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776 I hope so many years have told you, that I am very constant and sincere to friends of above forty years. I doubt Mr. Essex perceived that my mind was greatly bewildered. He gave me a direction to Mr. Penticross1, who, I recollect, Mr. Gray, not you, told me was turned a Methodist teacher. He was a Blue-coat boy, and came hither then to some of my servants, having at that age a poetic turn. As he has reverted to it, I hope the enthusiasm will take a more agreeable plie. I have not heard of him for many years, and thought he was settled somewhere near Cambridge: I find it is at Wallingford. I wonder those madmen and knaves do not begin to wear out, as their folly is no longer new, and as knavery can turn its hand to any trade, according to the humour of the age, which in countries like this is seldom constant. Yours most faithfuUy, H. W. 1715. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Sunday night, Aug. 4, 1776. I shall not go to Park Place till the day after to-morrow, having allowed this interval in hopes of finding a greater amendment. I am glad to find everybody thinks I was too much alarmed. The King said he heard it was a very slight attack, but that I was extremely shocked. I am not at aU ashamed of being thought too sensible about my friends. I do not wonder Mr. C. is so gay. I suppose this fine season has raised his spirits. They say it has done Lord G. Germaine great good. I am still less surprised to hear Lord said Mr. Conway could not open his eye without help. I have seen the man that saw that wondrous sight, Lettbb 1714. — i A clergyman and schoolmaster. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 397 and should not be surprised if he said he had seen a comet drop down hail. The charade is much better than what I guessed ; it is the word Italien. Though you do not understand Latin, Madam, you know that ita is Latin, and lien French, — but perhaps you don't understand French neither. . Pray tell our Lord that I found last night, in Dr. King's1 Works, that Archbishop Laud or Sir John Eobinson, who I think was our Lord's grandfather, left 100Z. to whoever would translate Laud's book against Fisher3 into Latin. I hope the Prelate's self-love was the donor, and not the martial gentleman in the parlour. There is a great deal of the petty history of Queen Anne's reign in that Dr. King's Works, and yet it requires my perseverance to read three volumes of small print, in which is so much trash. The man had some sense, a great deal more reading, and some humour, but the latter is very vulgar, and pertly vulgar, the worst sort ; and oftener fails than succeeds. Then it is the humour of a bigot, who always laughs when he is ill-humoured, and who thinks he must be comical, if the Bible is on his side, for what really makes a bigot laugh is, that he flatters himself his adversary wUl be damned. King was besides a jester on the side of Sacheverel and against liberty, in an age when our ancestors had too much sense to be joked into slavery. I am not surprised that this new edition of his works is published now: his humour, though stale, has a better chance of success than even when it was fresh. His biographer says he was sullen, morose, peevish, said many ill-natured things, was drunken, religious, and strictly virtuous, a complete character of a High Church Letter 1715. — 1 William King, He disputed on the Catholic faith LL.D. (1685-1763), Principal of St. with Laud in the presence of Mary Hall, Oxford, 1719-63. He James I. Laud and "Fisher after- was at the head of the Jacobite wards wrote pamphlets referring to party in Oxford. this conference. * JohnFisher(1579-1641),aJesuit. 398 To Sir Horace Mann [me saint ! To prevent your dipping into his verses, I wUl advertise you that he was an execrable poet, and at the end of his first volume recommends a republication of fifty thousand verses still more wretched than his own ; at the same time advising a translation of our poets into Latin, to give foreigners an idea of our poetry! I beg your Ladyship's pardon for saying so much on a trumpery author, but I have no news, and he was new to me. 1716. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 11, 1776. I have so little to tell you, though, perhaps, at the eve of so much, that I shall, I think, only begin this letter to show you the constancy of my attention, but not send it tiU it is fuller. You have seen by the public newspapers that General Carleton has driven the provincials out of aU Canada. It is well he fights better than he writes ! General Conway has constantly said that he would do great service. The provincials revenge themselves on our ships, took nine Jamaica-men at once, and have just taken two transports with troops; besides half or three quarters starving our West India Islands. General Howe has left HaUfax since the beginning of June, on an expedition. Near a fortnight ago, he was heard of off New York, and great anxiety was afloat to know farther. Yesterday came letters that he had landed on an island1 near, without molestation, but learnt that the opposite coast was covered with an hundred cannon, behind which lay a strong army entrenched up to their eyes. This does not diminish the anxiety for the event. Hfs brother, the peer, had not joined him ; not that there are appearances promising negotiation. The Letter 1716. — * Staten Island. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 399 Congress has declared all the provinces independent', has condemned the Mayor of New York to be hanged for corre sponding with their enemies, and have seized Franklin, not the famous doctor, but one of the King's governors. I hope this savage kind of war will not proceed ; but they seem to be very determined, and that makes the prospect very melancholy. I have been much alarmed lately about General Conway, who, by a sudden cold, had something of a paralytic stroke in the face; but as it did not affect his speech or health, and is almost disappeared, I am much easier. I do not know whether I have not mentioned it to you already : I cannot always remember from one post to another what I have said. He is uneasy himself, with reason, about his daughter. Her husband 3 and his two brothers have contracted a debt — one can scarcely expect to be beheved out of England — of seventy thousand pounds ! Who but must think himself happy to marry a daughter with only ten thousand pounds to a young man with five thousand pounds a year rent- chargeTn present, and twenty-two thousand a year settled ? And yet this daughter at present is ruined ! Her behaviour is such as her father's would be ; she does not only not complain, but desires her very own jewels may be sold. The young men of this age seem to have made a law amongst themselves for declaring their fathers super annuated at fifty, and then dispose of the estates, as if already their own. How culpable to society was Lord Holland 4 for setting an example of paying such enormous, such gigantic debts ! Can you believe that Lord Foley's two sons B have borrowed 2 The Declaration of Independence 4 Henry Fox, first Lord Holland. was signed on July 4, 1776. Walpole. 3 John Damer, eldest son of Joseph, 6 Thomas and Edward, sons of Lord Milton, married Anne, only the first Lord Foley of that line. child of General Henry Seymour Walpole. Conway. Walpole. 400 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 money so extravagantly, that the interest they have con tracted to pay amounts to eighteen thousand pounds a year ? I write the sum at length, lest you should think I have mistaken, and set down two or three figures too much. The legislature sits quiet, and says it cannot put a stop to such outrageous doings ; but thus is it punished for winking at the plunder of the Indies, which cannot suffice. Our Jews and usurers contrive to lounge at home, and commit as much rapine as Lord Clive ! Wednesday, 14th. I must desire you to send me a letter to Mr. WiUiam Suckling, our deputy, desiring him to execute the office of collector for you, and pay our moneys to my brother and me. This is not essential, but I find it wiU be a satisfaction to him, and I know you will be so good as to do it. Now I will bid you good night, but will reserve the rest of my paper a few days, rather than leave you in this suspense. If nothing comes soon, I shall hope some negotiation is on foot that will stop the effusion of blood— but indeed such various frenzies have taken hold of the nation's brains, that I fear nothing but calamities will bring us to our senses. As I doubt whether we shall hear any considerable news soon, I have determined to send away this letter, lest it should be superannuated. The Gazette has already got the start of it, and told you all it pretended to tell. In truth, my letters are little more than companions of the news papers, or at best evidences for their veracity, which they want. It is incredible how both sides lie about the American war. Even that laconic personage the Gazette has been known to fib, and always takes care not to tell a syllable of bad news. I live here alone, and never hear any but with all the world. Whenever this war shall end, I beheve it will be very new ; for except two or three great facts, ¦AArrds ~bfw-es i'-nm n./,M>AAlf,/nj .-.tytdAarueJ-' 'Sficmea, 01^1'. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 401 I question whether we, the pubhc, know anything of the matter. 1717. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 16, 1776. I cannot answer your Ladyship's questions from any Parisian authority, for my dear old woman, who does not trouble her head about the court, seldom tells me anything but what relates to her own circle. I have heard here of the favour of my Lady Lucan, and having the same curiosity as your Ladyship, have inquired, but the answer is not come. I know stUl less of Lord Clermont's * successor : it certainly is not Lord DUlon's son 2, who is marrying Miss Phipps, for love, at Brussels. He has a cousin at Paris, a beau Dillon 3, and a fine dancer. If Lady Lucan has made such a conquest by her painting, I think I, who was her master, ought at least to be a minister. — But I doubt my fate wUl resemble me to some prince, I forget whom, whose tomb they show at Westminster Abbey, who was son, brother, uncle, and father of kings, but never was king himself4. No, Madam, I shaU not go to Brighthelmstone, but another journey that wUl at least vary the scene a Uttle, for Lady Di. I have asked my nephew's leave to show them Houghton, and to Mr. Conway and Lady AUesbury. Letter 1717. — 1 William Henry Comte d' Artois. He was a favourite Fortescue (1722-1806), first Baron of Marie Antoinette. Clermont, created Earl of Clermont 4 The personage who appears to iu 1777. answer this description most nearly 2 Hon. Charles Dillon, afterwards is Edmund Plantagenet (1246-1296), Dillon-Lee (1745-1813), eldest son of surnamed 'Crouchback,' Earl of eleventh Viscount Dillon, whom he Lancaster, who is buried on the succeeded in 1782 ; m. (i776) Hon. north side of the Sanctuary iu West- Henrietta Maria Phipps, daughter minster Abbey, nearest the high of first Baron Mulgrave. altar. He was son of Henry III, 3 Colonel Edouard Dillon (1751- brother of Edward I, uncle of 1839), son of a banker in Bordeaux ; Edward II, and great-great-grand- Colonel of the regiment of Provence, father of Henry IV. and Gentleman-in-Waiting to the WALPOLE. IX D d 402 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [me I do not speak positively, you perceive. I must have permission first. You may be sure I enter very much, Madam, into your sensations about Miss Vernon's trip to Winterslow Lodge, and approve your consenting to it. One cannot hinder others from doing what one wishes they did not, when they are not in the wrong for doing it ; and yet I know one still wishes it did not happen. You can meet with nobody that feels this more than I do ; but one must conquer oneself on those occasions. It is difficult, I own ; but as nobody feels exactly what one feels oneself upon all situations, it is not reasonable to prescribe rules to them from one's own disposition : and yet, though I preach, I admire your fortitude in not having wanted to be preached to ; nor is the preacher always so equitable himself. I am sorry you are losing Mr. James. I know what a loss it is to miss a person whose opinions agree with one's own. I wiU not preach on this chapter too, for I am sure my practice would not be conformable to my doctrine. Mr. Conway is visibly much mended ; and though my impatience is not satisfied yet, in all probabUity no traces of his disorder will remain. His countenance is quite come to itself ; and his disposition was so little disturbed, that in one of the rainy days I passed there, he employed all the morning in cleaning his own boat. He is as indifferent about the accident, and talks of it with as much unconcern as if he had only been out on a skirmishing party. Friday, 16th. I began this yesterday, and was interrupted. To-day I have heard the shocking news of Mr. Darner's death, who shot himself yesterday, at three o'clock in the morning, at a tavern in Covent Garden. My first alarm was for Mr. Conway ; not knowing what effect such a horrid 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 403 surprise would have on him, scarce recovered from an attack himself ; happUy it proves his , nerves were not affected, for I have had a very calm letter from him on the occasion. They have sent for me to town, and I shall go to-morrow morning. Mr. Charles Fox, with infinite good nature, met Mrs. Damer coming to town, and stopped her to prepare her for the dismal event. It is almost impossible to refrain from bursting out into commonplace reflections on this occasion ; but can the walls of Almack's help moralizing, when 5,000Z. a year in present and 22,000Z. in reversion are not sufficient for happiness, and cannot check a pistol ! For the first time in my life I think I do not wish Lord Ossory a son, or Lady Anne greatly married ! What a distracted nation ! I do not wonder Dr. Battie died worth 100,OOOZ. WiU anybody be worth a shilling but mad doctors? I could write volumes; but recollect that you are not alone as I am, given up to melancholy ideas, with the rain beating on the skylight, and gusts of wind. On other nights, if I heard a noise, I should think it was some desperate gamester breaking open my house ; now, every flap of a door is a pistol. I have often said, this world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel ; but when I thought so first, I was more disposed to smile than to feel ; and besides, England was not arrived at its present pitch of frenzy. I begin to doubt whether I have not lived in a system of errors. All my ideas are turned topsy-turvy. One must go to some other country and ask whether one has a just notion of anything. To me, every body round me seems lunatic ; yet I think they were sober and wise folks from whom I received all my notions, on money, politics, and what not. Well ! I will wait for the echo — I know no better oracle. Good night, Madam. You excuse me in any mood, and therefore I will make no d d 2 404 To fhe Bev. William Cole [me apology for this incoherent rhapsody. My thoughts, with those I love, always flow according to the cast of the hour. A good deal of sensibility and very shattered nerves expose one to strong impressions. Yet when the sages of this world affect a tenderness they do not know, may not a little real feeling be pardoned? It seems, Mentor Duke of Montagu had made a vow of ever wearing weepers for his vixen turtle, and it required a jury of matrons and divines to persuade him he would not go to the devil and his wife, if he appeared in scarlet and gold on the Prince's birthday ; but he is returned to close mourning like Hamlet, and every Eosencrantz and Guildenstern is edified both ways. 1718., To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 19, 1776. I have time but to write you a Une, and it is as usual to beg your help in a sort of literary difficulty. I have re ceived a letter dated Catherine Hall from Ken. Prescot1, whom I doubt I have forgotten ; for he begins, ' Dear Sir,' and I protest I cannot recollect him, though I ought. He says he wants to send me a few classical discourses, and he speaks with respect of my father ; and, by his trembhng hand, seems an old man. AU these are reasons for treating him with great regard, and being afraid of hurting him, I have written a short and very civil answer, directed to the Rev. Dr. Prescot. God knows whether he is a clergy man or a doctor — and perhaps I may have betrayed my forgetfulness ; but I thought it was best to err on the over- civU side. Tell me something about him : I dread his Discourses. Is he the strange man that a few years ago sent me a volume of an uncommon form, and of more uncommon matter ? I suspect so. Letter 1718. — J Master of Catherine Hall, Cambridge. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 405 You shall certainly have two or three of my prints by Mr. Essex when he returns hither and hence, and any thing else you will command. I am just now in great concern for the terrible death of General Conway's son- in-law, Mr. Damer, of which, perhaps, you in your solitude have not heard. You are happy who take no part but in the past world, for the mortui non mordent, nor do any of the extravagant and distressing things that perhaps they did in their lives. I hope the gout, that persecutes even in a hermitage, has left you. Yours most sincerely, H. W. 1719. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 20, 1776. You will have concluded, on the sight of another letter so soon, that you are to hear of a battle in America. Not so, though you are going to hear a dismal story, and, which is worse, relative to friends of mine. Indeed the newspapers wUl have told it to you already, and you have known the principal actor, Mr. Damer, Lord Milton's eldest son, and who married General Conway's only daughter. I think I told you in my last that he and his two brothers most unexpectedly notified to their father that they owed above seventy thousand pounds. The proud lord, for once in the right, refused to pay the debt, or see them. The two eldest were to retire to France, and Mrs. Damer was to accompany them, without a mur mur, and with the approbation, though to the great grief, of Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury. She was, luckUy, gone to take her leave of them, and to return to town last Friday morning. On Thursday, Mr. Damer supped at the Bedford Arms in Covent Garden, with four common women, a blind fiddler, and no other man. At three 406 To Sir Horace Mann [me in the morning he dismissed his seraglio, bidding each receive her guinea at the bar, and ordering Orpheus to come up again in half an hour. When he returned, he found a dead silence, and smelt gunpowder. He caUed, the master of the house came up, and found Mr. Damer sitting in his chair, dead, with a pistol by him, and another in his pocket ! The ball had not gone through his head, nor made any report. On the table lay a scrap of paper with these words, 'The people of the house are not to blame for what has happened, which was my own act.' This was the sole tribute he paid to justice and decency ! What a catastrophe for a man at thirty-two, heir to two- and-twenty thousand a year ! We are persuaded lunacy, not distress, was the sole cause of his fate. He has often, and even at supper that night, hinted at such an exploit — the very reason why one should not expect it. His brothers have gamed — he never did. He was grave, cool, reasonable, and reserved ; but passed his ltfe as he died, with troops of women and the blind fiddler — an odd companion in such scenes ! One good springs out of this evil, the leeches, the Jews and extortioners, will lose very considerably. Lord Milton, whom anything can petrify and nothing soften, will not only not see his remaining sons, but wreaks his fury on Mrs. Damsr, though she deserves only pity, and shows no resentment. He insists on selling her jewels, which are magnificent, for discharge of just debts. This is all the hurt he can do her ; she must have her jointure of 2,500Z. a year. We have no end of these examples of extravagance. There is a Lord Coleraine and his two brothers ', who have equalled the Darners, and almost the Foxes and Foleys. Their father, who died about two years ago, was apprised of their proceedings, and left all he could, 1,600?. a year, Letter 1719. — 1 Hon. William and Hon. George Hanger. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 407 to his wife2. The unnatural wretches have wheedled her out of all, and Lady Windsor3 has taken her into her house for subsistence ! Very lately they told her she must come to town on business : — it was to show her to the Jews, and convince them hers was a good life — unless she is starved. You must not suppose that such actions are disapproved, for the second brother is going minister4 to Brussels, that he may not go to jail, whither he ought to go. I am weary of relating such histories. You shall hear no more of them, for my letters would be the annals of Bedlam. Adieu ! 22nd. Since I wrote my letter, an account is come of the total faUure of the expedition under General Clinton, Lord Corn wallis, and Sir Peter Parker", against Charleston ,!. The troops landed on Long Island7, and then could not act. The fleet attacked a fort, were repulsed, lost a man-of-war, with a captain, lieutenant, and two hundred men, and Sir Peter Parker, they say, is wounded in six places. They were, besides, forced to burn a store-ship. The provincials are confessed to have behaved remarkably weU. This success will not discourage the rest. In what a chaos are we embarked ! 2 Elizabeth, daughter and heiress pointed to command a squadron of Richard Bond, of Cowbery, Here- which was to act on the North fordshire, and widow of first Baron American coast. Coleraine ; d. 1780. 6 The attack was made on June 28, 3 Alice Clavering, sister and heiress 1776. The state of the tide prevented of Sir James Clavering, fourth both troops and ships from acting to Baronet, of Axwell, Durham, and advantage against the batteries on widow of second Viscount Windsor ; Sullivan's Island. Three frigates d. Nov. 24, 1776. ran aground, and one was set on fire 4 He did not go. Walpole. and abandoned. 6 AdmiralSirPeterParker,Knight 7 A few miles to the north-east of (1721-1811), created a Baronet in Sullivan's Island. 1782. He had recently been ap- 408 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [i776 1720. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 22, 1776. I perceive at last, Madam, that it is very foolish to live out of the world, and a good deal alone ; one contracts the strongest prejudices! one fancies one grows old, because one is near threescore ; that it is absurd to lay plans for ten or twenty years hence ; that one shall not govern the next generation as one did their grandfathers and grand mothers ; in short, one imagines one is not immortal. Nay, though there never was an age in which youth thought it so right to anticipate all its prerogatives, and declare its veterans Strulbrugs a httle before our time, we silly folks in the country despair of recovering the province of wisdom, that is, keeping young people for ever in leading strings, while we enjoy the world and dispose of all its blessings over our bottle. The picture of St. George 1 has opened my eyes. I will launch into the world again, and propose to be Prime Minister to King George V, and lay a plan for governing longer than Cardinal Fleury, by surfeiting all the young nobility at Eton and Westminster Schools with sugar plums. In the meantime if I grow deaf, like the late or present governor2, I will have Master George V taught to talk to me upon his fingers, which will teach both him and me to spell, for it would not be proper to have him bawling secrets of state to me through a speaking-trumpet : and when I come to be minister 3, I will secure the attach ment of all the young senators by getting drunk with them Letter 1720 — * Reynolds' picture Rigby. of St. George and the Dragon, with 2 The Earl of Holdernesse and the portraits of the fifth Duke of Bed- Duke of Montagu. ford, his two brothers, and Miss 3 An allusion to Earl Gower, Vernon. It was painted for Richard President of the Council. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 409 every night till six in the morning ; and if I should never be sober enough to give away places, which is the only real business of a minister, I wUl marry a Scotch wife*, who shall think of nothing else. I will do still more, and what no minister yet could ever compass, I wUl prevent all clamour, by adopting St. George's motto, — Honi soit qui mal y pense, which, if inscribed on the picture now in agitation, will certainly hinder anybody's smUing at it. As one cannot entirely divest oneself of one's character, But find the ruling passion strong in death, I propose to conclude my career in a manner worthy of an antiquary, as I was in the last century, and when I am satiated with years and honours, and arrived at a comfort able old age, to break my neck out of a cherry-tree in robbing an orchard, like the Countess of Desmond at an hundred and forty ; but don't mention this last idea, Madam, lest that roguish lad, the First Lord of the Admiralty B, should steal the thought from me. Thursday evening. I scribbled the above this morning on receiving your Ladyship's letter, and have since been at the regatta at Eichmond, which was the prettiest and foolishest sight in the world, as all regattas are. The scene, which lay between the Duke of Montagu's and Lady Cowper's, is so beautiful, that, with its shores covered with multitudes, and the river with boats, in the finest of all evenings, nothing could be more delightful. The King and Queen were on a stage on their own terrace : there were but few * Lord Gower's third wife was every minister for every little office Lady Susan Stewart, daughter of that fell in his department.' (Last the Earl of Galloway. ' After her Journals, vol. i. p. 233.) marriage her life was a series of jobs 5 Lord Sandwich. and solicitations, and she teased 410 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 barges and streamers, except one of the Duke of New castle's, and nobody more in masquerade than they are every day ; but enough of a puppet-show. The echo is a very discreet personage, and never in a hurry. Ministers are not invulnerable, as you thought. The expedition against Charleston has failed. A man-of- war is lost, with a captain, a lieutenant, and two hundred men, and, as Lord Cranley 6 told me, Sir Peter Parker himseU is wounded in six places. They were forced besides to burn a store-ship ; and what is ten times worse, the cowardly rebels behaved remarkably well. It is called a very ill-advised attempt ; though ten days ago what bragging of having got a fifty-gun ship over the bar of Charleston, which had always been thought impossible ! I cannot tell whether I shall go to Houghton, tUl I know what Mr. Conway determines. The Beauclerks certainly do not go. Mr. Crawfurd sent me a messenger last Friday to teU me the horrid fate of Mr. Damer, and to say he should not see me unless I was in town on Sunday. As I went on the unhappy occasion, I sent to him— and he was out of town. I should not have gone on purpose, as I know him a little too well. Adieu ! Madam ; say nothing, and wait for the echo stUl — to the end of the year. What she says then will be important. P.S. You may be perfectly easy about Lord Chewton7, for the land forces could not act, though they disembarked on Long Island, — a very ingenious exploit ! 8 George Onslow, created on May third Earl Waldegrave, whom he 20, 1776, Baron Cranley of Imber- succeeded in 1784. He entered the court, in Surrey. army in 1768, and was at this time 7 George Waldegrave (1751-1789), serving with his regiment iu America. Viscount Chewton, eldest son of 1776] To the Bev. William Cole 411 1721. To the Eev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1776. May I trouble you, dear Sir, when you see our friend Mr. Essex, to teU him that the tower is covered in, and that whenever he has nothing to do, after this week, I shall be very glad to see him here, if he will only send me a line two or three days beforehand. I have carried this little tower higher than the round one, and it has an exceedingly pretty effect, breaking the long line of the house pictur esquely, and looking very ancient, thus1. I wish this, or anything else could tempt you hither. I must correct a little error in the spelling of a name in the pedigree you was so kind as to make out for me last year ; the Derehaughs were not of Colton, but Coulston Hall. This I discovered oddly this morning. On opening a patch- box that belonged to my mother, and which I have not opened for many years, I found an extremely small silver collar or ring, about this size 2, but broad and flat. I remember it was in an old satin bag of coins that my mother found in old Houghton when she first married. I call it a collar from the breadth; for it would not be large enough for a fairy's lap-dog. It was probably made for an infant's little finger, and must have been for a ring, not a collar, for I believe, though she was an heiress, young ladies did not elope so early in those days. I never knew how it came into the family, but now it is plain, for the inscription on the outside is, of Coulston Hall, Suff., and it is a con firmation of your pedigree. I have tied it to a piece of paper, with a long inscription ; and as it is so small, it will not be melted down for the weight ; and U not lost from Letter 1721. — l The original letter contains a drawing ofthe tower. 2 Drawing in the original letter. 412 To fhe Bev. William Mason [me its diminutive person, may remain in the famUy a long while, and be preserved when some gamester may spend every other bit of silver he has in the world — at least, if one would make heirlooms now, one must take care that they have no value in them 3. I fancy Mrs. Prescott is returned, for I have heard no more of the Doctor *. I wish you may be able to tell me your gout is gone. Yours ever, H. W. P.S. I was turning over Edmondson this evening, and observed an odd concurrence of circumstances in the present Lord Carmarthen. By his mother he is the representative of the great Duke of Marlborough, and of Lord Treasurer Godolphin ; by his father, of the Lord Treasurer Duke of Leeds ; and by his grandmother 6, is descended from the Lord Treasurer Oxford. Few men are so weU ancestored in so short a compass of time. 1722. To the Eev. William Mason. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1776. I was exceedingly rejoiced the other day to hear by a letter from Lord Strafford that you are ahve, which I doubted. I had some thoughts of looking into the Annual Register to see if your preferments were given away ; but as I find you have only been in a lethargy, and that now I shall not disturb your nap, I venture to put you in mind of a person of whom you have not dreamt these four or 3 The ring described above, to- (see letter to Cole of Aug. 19, 1776) gether with the inscription in Wai- during his wife's absence. pole's handwriting, is now in pos- 5 Lady Elizabeth Harley (d. 1713), session of Earl Waldegrave at Chew- daughter of first Earl of Oxford ; m. ton Priory. (1712) Peregrine Osborne, Marquis 4 Cole had informed Walpole that of Carmarthen, afterwards third Dr. Prescot was mentaUy deranged, Duke of Leeds. and had written to Horace Walpole 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 413 five months. This has not been my case, though I have given you no more signs of hfe. I have been going to write to you fifty times, and only waited for that small peculiar of a letter, something to say. I hope you have had no other reason for sUence. My want is not yet removed, but though a good excuse for a letter's being short, is not above half a reason for not writing at all. Swinny used to tell a story of two old companions, who sitting together one evening till it was quite dark, without speaking, one called to t'other, 'Tom, Tom.' 'Well,' said his friend, 'what do you say?' 'Oh,' said t'other, 'are you there?' 'Ay,' said the friend. 'Why then don't you say humph?' said the first. If I had been in Parliament, and could have franked 'humph,' I really should have written it before now, though General Howe, who, like his famUy, never wastes a monosyllable, does not think such little amities necessary. Perhaps he reflects that even that symptom of life would not be communicated to the public, who, it seems, have no business to know anything that happens out of their own island. Master Froissart says, ' By the famous wrytyng of auncient auctours all thynges ben knowen in one place or other1,' which is a great comfort, and the present age seems to be satisfied with what their posterity will know. I have lately met with a famous auncient auctour, who did not think that eveiybody ought to know everything. He is a classic, Sir, with whom you ought to be acquainted ; his very name is expressive of his vocation and science ; he was called Sir Hugh Plat*, and has written a tractate on gardening, called the Garden of Eden, a very proper title, for though he has planted a tree of knowledge, he Letter 1722. — * This sentence 2 Plat was knighted by James I, occurs in the first chapter of Lord and died about 1611. Berners' translation. 414 To Sir Horace Mann [me forbids it to be tasted, having concealed his principal secret in a figurative description in imitation of Baptista Porta s in his Natural Magic, so that you might as soon understand a book of Alchemy, as Sir Hugh's treatise, at least his secret. This deep volume is not quite to your purpose, not being an essay on landscape-gardens, but rules to improve fruit and flowers, which being still more the fashionable rage at present than laying out ground, I think you would do well, Mr. Mason, to add a book on that subject. One very great secret Sir Hugh has deigned to disclose ; it is a receipt for making a peach-tree bring forth pomegranates : the process is very simple, and consists in nothing but watering (or strictly speaking milking) the peach-tree with goat's milk for three days together. To be sure you want to know a great deal about me myself, though you forgot you did. My whole history consists in having buUt a new tower, which is a vast deal higher, but very little larger in diameter than an extinguisher; however, it fuUy answers the founder's intention, which is to hold Lady Di's drawings. Have you done as much in your way, or any way? I could send you a paltry scurrUous letter against Shakespeare, by Voltaire, but it is not worth sending ; if it did, you don't deserve it at my hands, so adieu ! 1723. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 20, 1776. You almost confess by your last that you have a Uttle suspected me of having relaxed my veteran punctuality. I doubt your suspicions wiU have been augmented, for how can you conceive that at so critical a moment, and with so much reason to expect events, six whole weeks will have 3 Giovanni Battista Porta (d. 1615), a Neapolitan scientific writer. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 415 intervened to-morrow since the letters that brought an account of General Howe being landed on Staten Island in the face of New York ? The disgraceful miscarriage of Charleston has come since — but not a syUable from General Howe — not even that his brother has joined him ; nor is it known what is become of Lord Howe. The public are impatient, you may be sure: in the ministers it is more than impatience. Yet those no-events are aU I could have sent you. The despair from hearing nothing does amount to the importance of an article ; and when I have told you that, I have said all I know. Sir William Hamilton is arrived, and I expect he will call on me here in a day or two. I don't know whether he passed through Florence. You ask, what is become of the Duchess of Kingston? I have just heard of her, having met Lady Harriet Vernon *, who is returned from Paris, and saw her there at the Colisee 2, with a hat and feathers like Henri Quatre. She has given orders for a palace to be taken for her in Paris. At Calais she has a guard at her door, having demanded it, on pretence that her enemies aimed at her life. She obtained it, and has detained it to this moment. Her foolish vanity, you see, will never leave her. I think your Lord Cowper is not much wiser. I should not wonder at his retaining the mob s, U Florence were a borough town. It would be a sort of poetic justice *, if he should send his son6 to England, and the boy should refuse to return to Letter 1723. — x Youngest sister he went to travel, would not return of William Wentworth, Earl of to England, but settled at Florence, Strafford, and Lady of the Bed- and though entreated in the most chamber to Princess Amelia. Wai- earnest manner, would not visit his pole. father before the latter's death. 2 The French Ranelagh. Walpole. Walpole. 3 To celebrate the birth of his son B George Augustus Clavering- Lord Cowper caused quantities of Cowper (1776-1799), Viscount Ford- bread to be distributed to the poor wich ; succeeded his father as fifth of two of the parishes of Florence. Earl Cowper in 1789. 4 Lord Cowper, from the moment 416 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 him. I am sorry other climates cannot repair the eccentri cities our own climate occasions. I am inclined to think you will hear good news of Lady Lucy, as she holds out so long. I heartily wish you may. I shall reserve the rest of my paper, as my letter cannot begin its journey till the 24th, for any news that may happen to arrive in the interim. When I appear remiss, you may be certain I have nothing to tell you. Being so totally idle, it would be unpardonable to be lazy too, when you depend on my correspondence. When it has been so constant above thirty years, it shaU not disgrace itseU in its old age. 22nd. The ministers have heard by a ship that met another ship at sea, that Lord Howe has joined his brother, and that they were preparing to make the attempt on New York. This may be so, and is not improbable ; but such roundabout intelligence may not be true neither. I have received another letter from you to-day of the 7th with the enclosed for Mr. Suckling, which wUl do very well, and certainly satisfy him. Adieu ! till there is something to teU you. 1724. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 22, 1776. I am much obhged to Lord Ossory, Madam, and certainly do not mean to steal a visit to AmpthUl in his absence. I shall not be able to see it this month, for I am waiting for Mr. Essex to finish my new tower, which, as my farmer said, is still older than any of the rest. Pray don't think I am tired of your stories. Nothing is so pleasant as the occurrences of society in a letter. I am always regretting in my correspondence with Madame du 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 417 Deffand and Sir Horace Mann, that I must not make use of them, as the one has never lived in England, and the other not these fifty years, and so any private stories would want notes as much as Petronius. Sir Horace and I have no acquaintance in common but the Kings and Queens of Europe. I don't know that the Governor was literally writing to Lord Eockingham ; but not having succeeded in his last tergiversation, and being a little disappointed too by the faU of my Lord of Chester1, he has been aU this summer a violent anti-courtier, till finding that Lord George2 was discontent with the other ministers, and that Lady George wanted a loo party, he and his chameleon have attached themselves there, and swear by George, hke my Lord Hertford. It is charming, I own, to have dancing spirits, like the Duchess of Queensberry, in the 16th lustrum ; but I don't think if I had, that I should have courage to make use of them. I am strangely afraid of being too young of my age. If everybody was an hundred, and I was only ninety, I would play at marbles, if I liked it, because my seniors would say, ' That poor young creature ! ' but the sound of ' That old fool ! ' is too dreadful : and to live upon the memory of what one has been, when nobody remembers it but oneself, is stUl worse. It is odd, that grey hairs, and dim eyes, and aches should not be sufficient, but that many want a monitor like Salad in's to cry ' Eemember you grow old.' Do you know, Madam, that the ministers firmly believe, from the captain of a ship that met another ship at sea, that Lord Howe has joined his brother, and they were Letter 1724. — 1 Markham, Bishop of Chester, recently dismissed from the post of Preceptor to the Prince of Wales. 2 Lord George Germain. walpole. ix E e 418 To fhe Bev. William Mason [me preparing to storm New York. The circumstances are no doubt very probable ; but should you believe that the sUent Howes communicated their intentions to a passenger that was walking by at sea ? The General has been profoundly taciturn for six weeks, and I don't think that, in that famUy, two negative reserves make an affirmative chattering. Guessing I don't love, because I seldom guess right, but I have something that is called a presentiment, that tells me we shall hear of something called a negotiation. I could give something like reasons for my opinion, but as I always give up anything rather than dispute, it would be incon venient to my acquiescent system to furnish myself with arguments, which serve no purpose but to make one obstinate to one's opinion. When one believes without consideration, there is no difficulty in changing sentiments. Sir WiUiam Hamilton caUed on me yesterday for a moment; he is going to Warwick Castle for a fortnight, and I hope will return charmed with his new niece s. 1725. To the Eev. William Mason. Arlington Street, Oct. 8, 1776. I answer your letter incontinently, because I am charmed with your idea of the cenotaph for Gray, and would not have it wait a moment for my approbation. I do not know what my lines J were, for I gave them to you, or have burnt or lost them, but I am sure yours are ten times better, as any thing must naturally be when you and I write on the same subject. I prefer Westminster Abbey to Stoke, or Pembroke Chapel ; not because due to Gray, whose genius does not want any such distinction, but as due to Westminster 8 Sir William Hamilton was uncle Letter 1725. — 1 The lines sent by of the Earl of Warwick, who had Horace Walpole to Mason shortly recently married Miss Henrietta after Gray's death. See letter to Vernon, half-sister of Lord Ossory. Mason of Sept. 9, 1771. 1776] To the Bev. William Mason 419 Abbey, which would miss him, and to humble the French, who have never had a Homer or a Pindar, nor probably will have, since Voltaire could make nothing more like an epic poem than the Henriade, and Boileau and Eousseau have succeeded so httle in odes, that the French still think that baUad-wright Quinault 2 their best lyric poet ; which shows how much they understand lyric poetry ! Voltaire has lately written a letter against Shakespeare (occasioned by the new paltry translation, which still has discovered his miraculous powers), and it is as downright Billingsgate as an apple-woman would utter if you overturned her wheel barrow. Poor old wretch ! how envy disgraces the brightest talents ! How Gray adored Shakespeare ! Partridge 3, the almanac-maker, perhaps, was jealous of Sir Isaac Newton. Dr. Goldsmith told me he himself envied Shakespeare, but Goldsmith was an idiot, with once or twice a fit of parts. It hurts one when a real genius like Voltaire can feel more spite than admiration, though I am persuaded that his rancour is grounded on his conscious inferiority. I wish you would lash this old scorpion a little, and teach him awe of English poets. I can tell you nothing more than you see in the common newspapers. Impatience is open-mouthed and open-eared for accounts from New York, on which the attack was to be made on the 26th of August. Success there is more necessary to keep up credit than likely to do more. Should it fail, there is an end of America for England ; and if it succeeds, it is at most ground for another campaign. But we choose not to see till we feel, though they who have done the mischief do not disguise their apprehensions. The colonies have an agent 4 openly at VersaUles, and their ships are as openly received into their ports. But I had rather * Philippe Quinault (1635-1688). 3 John Partridge (1644-1715). 4 Silas Deane, of Connecticut. E e 2 420 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [me talk of Caractacus " ; I agree that he will not suffer by not being sputtered by Barry, who has lost all his teeth. Covent Garden is rather above Drury Lane in actors, though both sets are exceedingly bad, so bad — that I almost wish Caractacus was not to appear. Very seldom do I go to the play, for there is no bearing such strollers. I saw Lear the last time Garrick played it, and as I told him I was more shocked at the rest of the company than pleased with him — which I beheve was not just what he desired ; but to give a greater brilliancy to his own setting, he had selected the very worst performers of his troop ; just as Voltaire would wish there were no better poets than Thomson and Akenside. However, as Caractacus has already been read, I do not doubt but it will succeed. It would be a horrible injury to let him be first announced by such unhallowed mouths. In truth, the present taste is in general so vUe, that I don't know whether it is not necessary to blunt real merit before it can be applauded. I have not time to say more : I can say nothing about law, but that I always avoid it if I can ; that and everything else wants reformation, and I believe we shaU have it from that only reformer, Adversity. I wish I were with you and the good Palsgrave, and I always wish you was with me. Adieu ! • Yours ever, H. W. 1726. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 9, 1776. Somebody, I know not whom, taking me for your Lady ship's postman instead of your gazetteer, I confess, without 6 Mason's play of that name, produced at Covent Garden Theatre on Dec. 1, 1776. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 421 degrading me, has sent me the enclosed letter for you. As the postmark is Geneve, I should have supposed it came from Monsieur Hubert ; but as he can never have heard of me but from your Ladyship, he cannot be such an oaf as to think a letter would find me sooner than you, and, besides, he must know your direction. In short, it is like Anthony Henley's1 direction to the Duke of Somerset over against the trunk-shop at Charing Cross, except that in the present case the trunk-shop is very angry at the impertinence to the Duke of Somerset. I am quite alone and wishing myself at Ampthill. I did not think Mr. Essex could have come mal-a-propos, but it is so difficult to get him, and he has built me a tower, so exactly of the fourteenth century, that I did not dare to put him off, lest it should not be ready for furnishing next spring. It is one of those tall thin Flemish towers, that are crowned with a roof like an extinguisher, and puts one in mind of that at Thornbury, called Buckingham's Plotting Closet. I hope no Cardinal Wolsey will sit on my skirts for the likeness. I have lately been lent two delicious large volumes of Queen Elizabeth's jewels, plate, and the New Year's gifts to her : every page of one of them is signed by Lord Burleigh. She had more gold and silver plate than Montezuma, and even of her father's plunder of cathedrals and convents, particularly rich mitres set with jewels, and I don't doubt but she sometimes wore them as head of the Church, and fancied herseU like Pope Joan. I have extracted some of the articles that are most curious, and here they are. A looking-glass with the steel of agate. (This shows they had no quicksUvered glass, and she must have looked deUghtfuUy fierce in a piece of polished steel.) But this was of agate ; and the glass was of beryl and had her mother, Letter 1726.— 1 Antony Henley (d. 1711), wit and politician. 422 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 Anne Boleyn's arms. What a treasure this would be at Strawberry ! A porringer of white purselyn (porcelain) garnished with gold, and a lion at top. (The first porcelain I have read of was in Queen Mary's reign.) One case of leather painted and gilt with the Duke of Northumberland's (Dudley's) arms, having therein one broad knife, one lesser, two forks, and seven small knives, the hafts of all being silver, enamelled with his arms and word (motto). One standish of mother-of-pearl, garnished with silver gUt, with three boxes for ink, dust (sand), and counters of silver gilt. These were, I suppose, to calculate with, as I think they still do in the Exchequer. A gUt font with a cover, having at top a gilt cross chased with antique faces ; also the hand (handle) and foot, and with roses and pomegranates (for Henry the Eighth and Catherine of Arragon ; this should be at AmpthiU, against Lord Gowran's christening) upon the brim, and thereon written, Maria Begina, Veritas Temporis filia ''. A ship for frankincense of mother-of-pearl, the foot, garnishment, and cover of sUver gUt, having, the griffon holding the pillar, and Cardinal Wolsey's arms, and a Uttle spoon of silver gUt in it. You see, Madam, by this, and the Duke of Northumberland's knives, that it was charming to be a king or queen in those days, and that all was fish that came to the crown's net. In short, I am exceedingly angry at Messrs. Hampden and Pym, that were the cause of all these pretty baubles being melted down. One standing cup of Flanders making, garnished with 2 This font was probably the pro- last in allusion to a passage in the perty of Queen Mary, who used the preamble of the Act asserting her rose and pomegranate badge of her legitimacy. (See Annals of England, mother, Catherine of Aragon, and vol. ii. p. 225.) the motto Veritas temporis filia ; the 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 423 pearls, enamelled in divers places, containing in the foot thereof seven trenchers of silver parcel gUt standing upon the sides (I cannot make out the ichnography of this brave cup), seven forks set with three pearls apiece ; at the end seven knives in a case of the like work, and one pair of snippers (snuffers), the hafts of the knives of wood, and the ends silver gilt, with a pearl at the end of each ; and in the top four goblets gilt, and three cups of assay (for the taster) gUt, twelve spoons gUt, and the salts garnished with false pearls, and prettily enameUed ; and a candlestick having two sockets joined together ; and in the top a clock. One bed-pan, having the Queen's arms enamelled at the end. Here was luxury, and magnificence and taste ! I have a great mind to print these dear MSS., and another of Anne of Denmark's furniture at Somerset House, which was lent to me lately too. This majesty's joy was in canopies : she had more than there are chairs now in St. James's ; and now and then she gave a bed to her lady of the sweet coffers. She had sweet bags enough to hold all the perfumes of Arabia, and a suit of arras with the history of Charles Brandon *, and embroidered carpets to lay over cupboards, and fine caparisons of purple velvet, richly embroidered all over with silver, made for his Highness's horse to tilt with in Spain at the time of his being there, which his Queen Henrietta Maria, being a good housewife, ordered to be con verted into a bed, as she ordered another bed to be translated, says the inventory, into the French fashion. Queen Anne had, besides, a cradle-mantle of crimson velvet with a broad gold lace bordered with ermines, and lined with carnation taffety ; and pillows laced with gold and silver ; but, alas ! she had only six pair of fine Holland sheets, and thirty pair of ordinary Holland. There remained also three folio pages full of the robes of Henry VIII, and a diaper table-cloth, 3 Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. 424 To Sir Horace Mann [1776 whose borders were of gold needlework, and one dozen of napkins suitable ; and a smock, very richly wrought with gold, silver, and sUk. Pray, Madam, do you think this was her Majesty's wedding shift ? I will mention nothing more, but a cabinet of ebony, inlaid with sUver, white ebony (probably ivory) and gilt with flowers and beasts ; and in the drawers a comb-case furnished, two gilt cups in the shape of turkeys (as I have three castors like owls), a dresser for the tongue (I suppose a scraper), and sundry pencils and knitting-needles : and another cabinet of cloth of silver, lined with orange-tawny velvet (probably a casket). Well ! considering this solid magnificence, must not all good Christians pray, that when his Majesty has some time or other conquered America, he will extend his arms to Peru and Mexico, that the crown may eat off gold trenchers set with pearls, and that the Queen may have smocks as rough with embroidery as hands can make them, and every thing for the bed suitable ? So prays her and your Lady ship's poor beadsman. 1727. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 13, 1776. I need not tell you what a splendid Gazette has already told \ As I was here before the account arrived, and heard it but imperfectly, I could not write so soon as the first post would set out with the news. The provincials have certainly not behaved up to the haughtiness with which they rejected aU overtures of peace. It is said they were outwitted, deceived by feints, and drawn into ambuscade. That does no honour to their generals. Great consequences are expected from this victory. I am too ignorant of war, sieges, and America, Letter 1727. — i General Howe Aug. 27, 1776, in the battle of Brook- had defeated the Americans on lyn or Long Island. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 425 to pretend to judge ; and really have heard so much from both sides that has not proved true, and at the same time such pains are taken to keep people in the dark, that I have laid it down to myself to beheve nothing but what is universally allowed. It is your duty to credit gazettes, and you cannot err while you stick to your Bible. The red ribbon is to be sent to General Howe, who seems to have acted very sensibly. I have received your letter of the 18th, and think you are very prudent in not accepting the proposal of ceding your estate. I have an exceedingly good opinion of your nephew, but he has been indiscreet, may be so again, and surely the tone of the age does not tempt one to trust to the sensibility of young people. How at your distance could you sue, if the annuity was in arrear ? And pray how do you know that the lawyer who has suggested this scheme is an honest man? The profession is excellent at evading laws and settlements ; I never heard they were so subtle at procuring redress. Do not say I gave you this advice — I have no reason to disoblige your nephew, but as your friend I must approve your resolution of not consenting to the project. I never saw your Duke with the barbarous name — Ostro- gothia2; nor am longer curious of sights. For the first summer of my life, I have stayed quietly at home ; at least not been thirty mUes. It has struck fifty-nine with me : which is an hour for thinking of 'the great journey,' though not for talking of it ; in which there always seems a great deal of affectation or unwillingness. Nay, it is sUly, too ; for how few can one talk to about one's death, that care about it ? if they do, it is unkind. My being is so isole and insignificant, that I shah go out, like a lamp in an illumination, that cannot be missed. If the person by whom I sent you a letter lately should 2 Brother of the King of Sweden. Walpole. 426 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [me return through Florence, I wish you would give him the packet that was to have come by your nephew — if not, by any safe hand— I have had none a great while. As Lady Lucy still lives, I should rather hope well from the journey, and heartUy wish she may recover. 1728. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Strawberry Hill, Oct. 13, 1776. Just after I had sent away my last packet with Monsieur Hubert's letter, I heard of General Howe's success, but con cluding your Ladyship would hear it from London, I did not write another letter, besides that I knew no particulars. I am not quite of Mr. Fitzpatrick's opinion that the event is of no consequence to the ministers. I believe a small check would have made them doubt a Uttle whether they should meet the Parliament, — at least for this last month I never saw people more desponding ; and this victory has certainly raised their spirits in proportion ; at least it has in aU I have seen, and I have not seen a soul but courtiers since the news came. Indeed I have not been out of my own house, for on Tuesday last as I came out of town my foot slipped as I got into my chaise, and I hit my knee, which brought the gout thither, and though it is almost gone, it kept me from dining at Lady Blandford's to-day, and has hindered me from scrambling into my new tower with Mr. Essex, which was a vexation ; but as I am got into that very grave year, my sixtieth, it is not becoming to be moved at anything; and so, as phUosophy is always the thing one has when one wants it, I pretended to be very indifferent about going into the tower, and only scolded my footman for something that would not have made me peevish at any other time, which I think proves I am a true philosopher. If you do not understand Monsieur Hubert's letter, 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 427 Madam, how is it possible I should? You seem to have described me to him as an agreeable mixture of the continent Scipio and a member of the Hell-fire Club ; nay, and to have bestowed two as uncommon ladies on me who were content without being in love with, and yet could pass a whole night in hearing very indelicate conversation. Dames more extraordinary certainly than Scipio himself! I am unfortunately of an age not to attempt to clear myself of the character of the chaste Eoman, but I beg you will undeceive Monsieur Hubert about my licentious conversa tion, which I hope is not one of my faults. When you are in train of defending me, Madam, I beg you wUl also undeceive him about the shining merits he supposes in me. I hate to have anybody think better of me than I deserve ; and I must say your Ladyship's partiality to me, at least your favour, is apt to rate me above the common run of men, which I know I am not. I never had anything like a solid understanding on one side, or wit on the other. As a proof that I know my own level, you have always heard me speak with enthusiasm of Charles Townshend, George Selwyn, Charles Fox, Mr. Fitzpatrick, Mr. Gray, Mr. Gibbon, and of everybody of singular capacity or parts, which is seldom the case but of those who are conscious of having no pretensions ; but this is growing too grave apropos to Mr. Hubert's wUd letter. If I had wit, I should have laughed at it with some wit. I am exceedingly inclined to come to AmpthiU about the 24th. I have no exceptions to the party before as individuals, but as too numerous; besides I promised to go again to Park Place, and if I can walk tolerably by that time, think of going thither about the 18th or 19th for a couple of days, but I will neither embarrass them nor you with my gout, and will be sure it is gone before I frisk anywhere. 428 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [me Oct. 15. I received your postscript, and add one to mine. About the American news, I say what I always have thought and said, that whatever way this war ends, it will be fatal to this country. The liberty of America made it flourish to the prodigious height it did. If governed by an army, instead of inviting settlers and trade, it wiU be deserted and be a burthen to us, as Peru and Mexico, with all their mines, have been to Spain. The war has already drained us of men ; if the army could be brought back, how many, between climate and other chances, wUl return? Our ships are entering on their third winter in those seas, and we have flung away in those three years what should have lessened our debt, and prepared against a war with France. The plea for the last Peace was our inability of proceeding with the war. Are we in the condition we were in 1763? How soon we shall have a French war, I know not ; it is much talked of already at Paris ; but come when it wiU, then wiU be the moment of judging of this war with the colonies. I beheve France wiU then recover Canada, with interest ; and for the East Indies, with our fleets, supported by our trade, obtained, I have always looked on them as a vision, which made us drunk with riches, which wUl be a burthen to maintain, and which wiU vanish Uke a scene in the Arabian Tales. I have not less gloomy ideas of your Ireland, where, I conclude, the first storm wiU burst. I could carry my prophecy much further ; but the present exultation speaks it all — nor does it surprise me. It is natural, I doubt, for the human heart to pass from de spondency to intoxication ; nor can one wonder. I believe it is the truest phUosophy to think only of the present moment. Chance is a more potent sovereign than fore sight, which has no ways and means but probabUityto work 1776] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 429 with. I honour Chance, and beg her to contradict all my prophecies. I heard the story of the Prince of Conti1 here, never from France : indeed, I heard two stories, one of the late Prince, another of the present, and know not which your Ladyship means. Neither sounded to me in the least probable. I still less know who the lady is, that is only indulged in feeding her horse with cherries — a luxury she cannot enjoy above one month in the twelve. As this is October, when I hear it, it puts me in mind of the late Duke of Cleveland/ who though past twenty when his father was dying in December, was overjoyed, and said, ' Now my mother must stay in my father's room, she cannot watch me, and I wUl go into the garden and get birds'-nests.' Mr. Conway has certainly marks of his disorder still, though not considerable. I hope to find him still more mended than he was. 1729. To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway. Thursday, 31. Thank you for your letter. I send this by the coach. You will have found a new scene ^not an unexpected one by you and me, though I do not pretend I thought it so near. I rather imagined France would have instigated or winked at Spain's beginning with us. Here is a solution of the Americans declaring themselves independent 2. Oh ! the folly, the madness, the guUt of having plunged us into this abyss ! Were we and a few more endued with any uncommon penetration? — No: they who did not see as far Letter 1728. — * Louis Francois of the Parliament in the year 1776. Joseph de Bourbon, known during Walpole. the lifetime of his father (whom he 2 Probably an allusion to the had recently succeeded) as the Comte willingness of France to help the de la Marche. Americans. Letter 1729. — ' On the opening 430 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [l77G would not. I am impatient to hear the complexion of to-day. I suppose it will, on the part of administration, have been a wretched farce of fear, daubed over with airs of bullying. You, I do not doubt, have acted like yourself, feehng for our situation, above insulting, and unprovoked but at the criminality that has brought us to this pass. Pursue your own path, nor lean to the court that may be paid to you on either side, as I am sure you wUl not regard their being displeased that you do not go as far as their interested views may wish. If the court should receive any more of what they call good news, I think the war with France will be unavoid able. It was the victory at Long Island, and the frantic presumption it occasioned, that has ripened France's mea sures ; and now we are to awe them by pressing ; an act that speaks our impotence ! — which France did not want to learn ! I would have come to town, but I had declared so much I would not, that I thought it would look as if I came to enjoy the distress of the ministers ; but I do not enjoy the distress of my country. I think we are undone — I have always thought so ; whether we enslaved America, or lost it totally : so we that were against the war could expect no good issue. If you do return to Park Place to-morrow, you will obUge me much by breakfasting here : you know it wastes you very Uttle time. I am glad I did not know of Mrs. Darner's sore throat tUl it is almost well. Pray take care and do not catch it. Thank you for your care of me : I wUl not stay a great deal here, but at present I never was better in my life ; and here I have no vexatious moments. I hate to dispute ; I scorn to triumph myself, and it is very difficult to keep my temper when others do. I own I have another reason 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 431 for my retirement, which is prudence. I have thought of it late, but, at least, I will not run into any new expense. It would cost me more than I care to afford to buy a house in town, unless I do it to take some of my money out of the stocks, for which I tremble a little. My brother is seventy ; and if I live myself, I must not build too much on his Ufe ; and you know, if he fails, I lose the most secure part of my income. I refused from Lord Holland, and last year from Lord North, to accept the place for my own life ; and having never done a dirty thing, I wUl not disgrace myself at fifty-nine. I should like to live as well as I have done ; but what I wish more, is to secure what I have already saved for those I would take care of after me. These are the true reasons of my dropping all thought of a better house in town, and of hving so privately here. I wiU not sacrifice my health to my prudence; but my temper is so violent, that I know the tranquUlity I enjoy here in solitude is of much more benefit to my health, than the air of the country is detrimental to it. You see I can be reasonable when I have time to reflect ; but phUosophy has a poor chance with me when my warmth is stirred ; and yet I know that an angry old man out of Parliament, and that can do nothing but be angry, is a ridiculous animal. 1730. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberiy Hill, Nov. 1, 1776. Fob three weeks you have been expecting accounts from New York : so have we ; and so we are stUl. Nothing was come this morning; but we seem to be at the eve of another interlude, that will be full as serious as the chief piece. Very few days before the ParUament was to meet, nine or ten ships of the line were put into commission ; and, on Tuesday, press-warrants were issued, and every 432 To Sir Horace Mann [me appearance spoke war. The first reports were that Spain was going to attack Portugal ; and so it looks stiU : and, they say, by the obstinacy of the latter. I do not know how, but the general opinion is, that, though Monsieur de Noailles x is just arrived, our prepara tions are made at least as much against France, as to support Portugal. Every port in France countenances these apprehensions ; and our late success at Long Island does but make it probable that we shall not be suffered quietly to fetch over too many victories. The agent2 of the colonies is openly countenanced at VersaUles ; and it is past a doubt that they are assisted and traded with. I hear this was urged yesterday, in both Houses, by the opposition; and not denied. The King's Speech you wiU see ; and I think it gainsays but very faintly all I teU you. The opposition made a sort of protest against aU the late measures, in a kind of address, that they would have sub stituted for that prepared by the court : not expecting, to be sure, to carry it, but as their declaration. As I am here, I could not learn even these particulars in time to write to you by to-night's post. Indeed, what shall pass at present in Parliament wUl decide nothing. ParUament has done what, I think, it wiU never be able to undo ; and it must excuse me if I do not honour its wisdom. What a strange event in France! Monsieur Necker8, a Protestant, and actuaUy resident from Geneva, made one of the Comptrollers of the Finances! What says your neighbour, Madame of Babylon4? but, poor old soul, she dares say nothing. Marshal Turenne's ghost wiU die for shame, that, with aU his glory, he turned Cathohc to make his court. A little Swiss banker wiU be above such mean- Letter 1730. — x The new Am- 3 Jacques Necker (1732-1804). bassador from France. Walpole. 4 Rome. Walpole. 2 Silas Deane. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 433 ness. No, I never disapproved your decrowning Count Albany ° : it became you : but I certainly have the utmost contempt for the court of Eome, that denied him a title, of which his family had forfeited all the advantages for their cause. I am glad they did ; for it shows how insignificant both he and they are. You never did mention the demele6 with Lord Cowper ; and I could easUy excuse it. There seems to me little danger in Lady O.'s eruption. She has for many years had frequent red faces, and therefore I suppose they do her good. I still think Lady Lucy 7 has a good chance of living, by holding out so long. Thank you much for your kindness to Mr. Giles 8. I shaU go to town on Sunday for a day or two, and U I hear any further news you shall know. Arlington Street, Nov. 4. At last the confirmation is come- of New York being in possession of General Howe9, having been abandoned by the provincials. Three thousand men salhed out of their lines, but were repulsed by three regiments, with little loss of life on either side, but thirteen or fourteen of the King's officers were wounded. Three days after Howe was in the town it was fired by some provincials, and a quarter of it burnt before the flames could be extinguished. Howe is now encamped within four miles of the enemy's lines. I don't know whether he means to attempt to force them, or whether they mean to make their stand now, or draw him up into the country. My opinion is, that if he gains any 5 The Pretender. Sir Horace wished to take. Mann had remonstrated against his 7 Lady Lucy Mann. being received at Rome as King of 8 A neighbour of Mr. Walpole at England; and the Pope compUed. Twickenham, by whom he had Walpole. written to Sir Horace. Walpole. 6 The Count of Albany and Lord 9 General Howe took possession of Cowper quarrelled and went to law New York on Sept. 15, 1776. over a house which each of them walpole. ix r f 434 To fhe Earl of Strafford [me great advantage, it wUl but the sooner bring on a war with France, as it is natural to suppose they wiU not let us ever be quiet masters of America again, nor miss the present favourable opportunity of embarrassing us so considerably. However, I have no great faith in reasonings on future events, and much less on my own reasonings of that sort. When it is so difficult to trace back events to causes, the reverse must be much more falhble. 1731. To the Earl of Strafford. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 2, 1776. Though inclination, and consciousness that a man of my age, who is neither in Parliament nor in business, has httle to do in the world, keep me a good deal out of it, yet I wUl not, my dear Lord, encourage you in retirement ; to which, for the interest of your friends, you have but too much propensity. The manners of the age cannot be agreeable to those who have lived in something soberer times ; nor do I think, except in France, where old people are never out of fashion, that it is reasonable to tire those whose youth and spirits may excuse some dissipation. Above all things, it is my resolution never to profess retirement, lest, when I have lost all my real teeth, the imaginary one, called a colt's, should hurry me back and make me ridiculous. But one never outlives all one's cotemporaries; one may assort with them. Few Englishmen, too, I have observed, can bear solitude without being hurt by it. Our chmate makes us capricious, and we must rub off our roughness and humours against one another. We have, too, an always increasing resource, which is, that though we go not to the young, they must come to us: younger usurpers tread on their heels, as they did on ours, and revenge us that have 1776] To the Earl of Strafford 435 been deposed. They may retain their titles, like Queen Christina, Sir M N , and Lord Eivers; but they find they have no subjects. If we could but hve long enough, we should hear Lord Carlisle, Mr. Storer, &c, complain of the airs and abominable hours of the youth of the age. You see, my dear Lord, my easy phUosophy can divert itself with anything, even with visions; which perhaps is the best way of treating the great vision itself, life. For half one's time one should laugh with the world, the other half at it — and then it is hard if we want amusement. I am heartUy glad, for your Lordship's and Lady Anne ConoUy's sakes, that General Howe1 is safe. I sincerely interest myself for everybody you are concerned for. I will say no more on a subject on which I fear I am so unlucky as to differ very much with your Lordship, having always fundamentally disapproved our conduct with America. Indeed, the present prospect of war with France, when we have so much disabled ourselves, and are exposed in so many quarters, is a topic for general lamentation, rather than for canvassing of opinions, which every man must form for himself: and I doubt the moment is advancing when we shall be forced to think alike, at least on the present. I have not yet above a night at a time in town — but shall be glad to give your Lordship and Lady Strafford a meeting there whenever you please. Your faithful humble servant, Hok. Walpole. Letter 1731. — x General Howe's Conolly, and a niece of Lord Straf- wife was a daughter of Lady Anne ford. rf 2 436 To the Bev. WiUiam Mason [me 1732. To the Eev. William Mason. LETTRE DE VOLTAIKE A M. D'AEGENTAL1. Mon CHER Ami, Fernet, 19 Juillet, 1776. J'apprends que Monsieur de St. JuUen arrive dans mon desert avec le Kain. Si la chose est vraie, j'en suis tout etonne et tout joyeux ; mais U faut que je vous dise combien je suis fache pour l'honneur du tripot contre un nomme Tourneur2, qu'on dit Secretaire de la Librairie, et qui ne me paroit pas le Secretaire du bon gout. Auriez-vous Iii deux volumes miserables dans lesquels U veut faire regarder Shakespeare comme le seul modele de la veritable tragedie ? II l'appelle le Dieu du Theatre ; il sacrifie tous les Francois sans exception a son idole, comme on sacrifioit des cochons a Ceres. II ne daigne pas nommer Corneille ou Eacine : ces deux grands hommes sont seulement enveloppes dans la proscription generale sans que leurs noms soient pro- nonces. II y a deja deux tomes d'imprimes de ce Shake speare, qu'on prendrait pour des pieces de la foire, faites il y a deux cents ans ; ce maraud a trouve le secret de faire engager le Eoi et la Eeine et toute la famUle royale a souscrire a son ouvrage. Avez-vous lu son abominable grimoire dont il y aura encore cinq volumes ? Avez-vous une haine assez vigoureuse contre cet impudent imbecile? Souffrirez-vous l'affront qu'il fait a la France ? Vous et Monsieur de Thi- bouvUle 3 vous etes trop doux. H n'y a pas en France assez Letter 1732. — Hitherto printed as Pont-de-Veyle. A copy of this letter part of letter to Mason of Sept. 17, was enclosed by Madame du Deffand 1776. (See Notes and Queries, Aug. 4, in her letter to Horace Walpole of 1900.) Aug. 4, 1776. 1 Charles Augustin de Ferriol 2 Pierre le Tourneur (1736-1788), (1700-1788),Comted'Argental,Minis- translator of many English works ter of Parma at the court of France, into French. and Councillor in the Parliament of 3 Henri Lambert d'Erbigny (d. Paris. He was an intimate friend 1784), Marquis de Thibouville, sol- of Voltaire, and a younger brother dier and litterateur. He was on of Madame du Deffand's friend, friendly terms with Voltaire. 1776] To the Bev. WiUiam Mason 437 de camouflets, assez de bonnets d'anes, assez de pillorie contre un pareU faquin ? Le sang petille dans mes vieilles veines en parlant de lui. S'il ne vous a pas mis en colere, je vous tiens pour un homme impassible. Ce qu'il y a d'affreux c'est que le monstre a un parti en France, et pour comble de calamites, et d'horreur, c'est moi qui autrefois parlai le premier de ce Shakespeare ; c'est moi qui le premier montrai aux Francois quelques perles que j'avois trouvees dans son enorme fumier. Je ne m'attendais pas que je servirois a fouler aux pieds les couronnes de Eacine et de Corneille, pour en omer le front d'un histrion barbare. Tachez, je vous prie, d'Stre aussi en colere que moi, sans quoi je me sens capable de faire un mauvais coup. Quant a mon ami M. le cocher Gilbert 4, je souhaite qu'U aUle au carcan a bride abattue, etc., etc. I have a mind to provoke you, and so I send you this silly torrent of ribaldry. May the spirit of Pope that dictated your Musseus, animate you to punish this worst of dunces, a genius turned fool with envy ! I have a mind to be a dunce too and alter one Une of your epitaph, the last. I think She heard should not be repeated twice ; heard is an inharmonious word, and the elision between she and heard adds to the cacophony. I would read, — She heard thy Homer in her Milton's strains, And Pindar's music from the lyre of Gray. — \ Or 'thy.' It is very impertinent in me, who have no ear and am no poet, to correct you, who are a musician, and a poet if ever there was one ; but then, I wUl submit U you do not approve my emendation. * Probably Nicolas Joseph Laurent Gilbert (1751-1780), poet. 438 To fhe Bev. William Mason [me Having nothing new to read, I have been tumbling over my old books, and there I found what I had never read nor heard mentioned, and which I think has a vast deal more of wit than the ancients used in their writings. Mind, I say used, for no doubt all times and all countries have produced men of wit, and I know Julius CaBsar had a collection of Cicero's bons mots. Diogenes Laertius too has recorded those of the philosophers, very few of which I aUow to have any wit in them. The piece I mean is Seneca's De Morte Claudii Caesaris. There is a good deal of Greek in it, and I have forgotten my Greek, and some of my Latin too, and do not understand many passages in this satire ; but let me give you an instance of great wit ; speaking of his death and the astrologers, who had not foretold it rightly, he says, horam ejus nemo novit, nemo enim ilium unquam natum putavit. Last night I took up Pope's Letters to Mr. Digby5, and finding Lady Suffolk's name, I regretted having never questioned her about the latter. This is a sort of pleasure I lose every day. I came into the world long enough ago to have informed myself from elder persons of many things I should now like to know; and there is much more satisfaction in inquiring into old stories than in telling them. Formerly I was so foolish, like most young people, as to despise them. I don't mean by this to invite the young "to apply to me ; I am not over-fond of t.Heir company. Eecollection is more agreeable than observation at the end of life. Will Dr. Johnson, and I know not most of the rest by name, interest the next age like Addison, Prior, Pope, and Congreve ? will General Gage or Sir Peter Parker succeed to the renown of the Duke of Marlborough, even 5 Hon. Robert Digby (d. 1726), his sister in the lines beginning, second son of fifth Baron Digby. ' Go, fair example of untainted Pope wrote his epitaph and that of youth.' 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 439 had the last had no more merit than Macpherson will allow him? Oh, there is another of our authors, Mac pherson ! when one's pen can sink to him, it is time to seal one's letter. 1733. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Nov. 13, 1776. As next to sense and wit, I love nonsense ; and as it is very convenient to love the last, especially if it will produce the second, I shall certainly indulge myself, since my quotation from a certain potion (which 1 do not think the most rational performance in the world) from a certain book gave occasion to your Ladyship to make an application of as much wit as ever I heard in my life; and yet so obvious an one that it is amazing it never struck anybody before. My Lord J. may comfort himself, for though he is very blind, you have discovered that if he had five more eyes, and aU seven were as good as Argus's, they might prove no preservative. I sent you, on Monday, another piece of nonsense, and expect great returns from it, though you never can exceed your last quotation. You guessed very right too about Strawberry. I have called this morning on Lady Warwick, but they are gone out of town again. News I found none, but that Mr. North1 is to marry Miss Egerton, with 100,000Z. to begin the world with. Yesterday, just after I arrived, I heard drums and trumpets in Piccadilly: I looked out of the window and saw a procession with streamers flying. At first I thought it a pressgang, but seeing the corps so well drest, like Hussars, in yellow with blue waistcoats and breeches, and high caps, I concluded it was some new body of our allies, Letter 1733. — ' No son of Lord North married a Miss Egerton. 440 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 or a regiment newly raised, and with new regimentals for distinction. I was not totally mistaken, for the colonel is a new ally. In short, this was a procession set forth by Mr. Bate 2, Lord Lyttelton's chaplain, and author of the old Morning Post, and meant as an appeal to the town agamst his antagonist, the new one. I did not perceive it, but the musicians had masks; on their caps was written Tlie Morning Post, and they distributed hand-bUls. I am sure there were at least between thirty and forty, and this mummery must have cost a great deal of money. Are not we quite distracted, reprobate, absurd, beyond all people that ever lived? The new Morning Post I am told, for I never take in either, exceeds aU the outrageous BiUings- gate that ever was heard of. What a country ! Does it signify what happens to it ? Is there any sense, integrity, decency, taste, left ? Are not we the most despicable nation upon earth, in every light? A solemn and expensive masquerade exhibited by a clergyman, in defence of daUy scandal against women of the first rank, in the midst of a civil war ! and whUe the labouring poor are torn from their families by pressgangs ! and a foreign war is hanging over our heads ! And everybody was diverted with this ! — Do you think, Madam, that anything can save such a sottish and stupid nation ? Does it deserve to be saved ? you that have children wiU wish for miracles ; as I have none but what Mary provides, I can almost wish we may be scourged. I pity the unborn, who were in the entaU of happiness, but what can be said for those in present possession? P.S. I return to-morrow to Strawberry. 2 Rev. Henry Bate (1745-1824), the name of Dudley in 1784, and was editor of the Morning Post. He took created a Baronet in 1813. 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 441 1734. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Nov. 24, 1776. Me. Giles has delivered me the packet of letters, for which I thank you ; but I have been so backwards and forwards between this place and London, that I have missed seeing him himself. I am rejoiced to hear there are hopes of Lady Lucy. I cannot tell you the particulars, as I am here, and have not yet learnt them ; but there is another victory1, a naval one, over the provincials on the Lake Champlain. They have lost their whole fleet, have burnt Crown Point, and are retired to Ticonderoga, where, I think, they are besieged. You will see the particular circumstances in the papers, as soon as I could hear and tell them. General Howe, it is said, finding the lines at King's Bridge too strong, is drawing others between them and New York. Some say he is meditating or executing a diversion ; at the same time there is a pretty general opinion that he is negotiating a peace. You, perhaps, are stiU more inquisitive about the appear ance of war in Europe. If I was an ambassador myself, I could not answer you more unsatisfactorily, which, if I spoke in a character, would be called mysteriously or enigmaticaUy ; but my reason is founded, as perhaps it is sometimes in your profession, on ignorance. The outward and visible signs are all martial. Equipment of a fleet, pressing of saUors, and the nomination of an admiral : so much for BeUona. On the other hand, France says she has no thoughts of war, and our ministers declare they beheve her. For her amusement, indeed, she makes great naval Letter 1734 J On Oct. 11 and 13, 1776. 442 To Sir Horace Mann [me preparations, and some say, does not frown on the Americans, nor on their Eesident, Silas Deane. Nous verrons. If you should ask what the opposition says, — I answer, nothing. They have abandoned Parliament, and some are gone into the country, and some to Paris: not to confer with Mr. Deane, but to see horse-races, — of which we have none here ! After so much negative information, I can tell you one event: Lord Buckingham2 is made Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. Being a little unfortunate generaUy in my prophecies and conjectures, I choose to foretell that he will be the most humble, sweet-tempered, generous, and profound governor that ever that island was blessed with yet. I forgot to say, that it is not Lord Bristol who commands the fleet, but Admiral Keppel. He is in the opposition, but they being at leisure, he was appointed. I certainly did mean to name Lord Thomas Clinton to you, as I was desired, though I knew it was unnecessary. Thank you much for saying I did ; I don't know how I came to forget it. Arlington Street, Nov. 26. You will see the particulars of the naval victory in the Gazette. It is not much valued here, as it is thought Carleton must return to Quebec for the winter. The idea of negotia tion gains ground — that of war declines, for we hear Grimaldi, the Spanish minister, has resigned, and he was reckoned no friend of ours ; but pray, never mind what I say in the future tense, in which I have no skill at all. We know past times very imperfectly, and how should we, when few know even the present, and they who do, have good reasons for not being communicative? I have lived till I think I know nothing at all. 2 Hitherto printed 'Rockingham.' 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 443 1735. To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, Dec. 1, 1776. Though I wrote to you but the other day, and have nothing new to tell you, I must say a few words in answer to yours by Mr. Hull, and to that of Nov. 16th which I have just received. As you are my first consideration, I could but state to you what reason and experience dictated for your personal security. I have, however, no doubt but you wUl find all honour and justice in your nephew, who I am sure has sense, and as I told you before you saw him, appeared to me to have an excellent heart. It pleased me to see that he answered so thoroughly in your eyes to the character I had given you of him. As he is Gal's son, I must be glad too that you have made his mind at ease about his daughters. Still as I have so much friendship for your whole family, and think so well of Mr. and Mrs. Foote, I am not at all sorry that the step you have taken was transacted without my advice. I could never have brought myself to have decided on a point in which one part or other of your famUy would think itself wounded, as I doubt may be the case now ; though I believe Mr. and Mrs. Foote are too good and reasonable to do more than think. You your self have been originally ill-used by both your brothers James and Edward. The former was very weak — the other had not very good sense, with an abominable temper — but he is gone and I will say no more. I did tell you I received the packet from Mr. Gyles, who, I suppose, is the person you mean by Mr. Price ; you might easily forget the name of a man you knew so little. I don't know who the Englishwoman is of whom you give so ridiculous a description ; but it will suit thousands. I distrust my age continually, and impute to it half the 444 To Sir Horace Mann [me contempt I feel for my countrymen and women. If I think the other half weU founded, it is by considering what must be said hereafter of the present age. What is to impress a great idea of us on posterity? In truth, what do our cotemporaries of all other countries think of us ? They stare at and condemn our politics and follies ; and i£ they retain any respect for us, I doubt it is for the sense we have had. I do know, indeed, one man who still worships us, but his adoration is testified so very absurdly, as not to do us much credit. It is a Monsieur de Marchais, first valet de chambre to the King of France. He has the Anglomanie so strong, that he has not only read more English than French books, but U any valuable work appears in his own language, he waits to peruse it till it is translated into English ; and to be sure our translations of French are admirable things ! To do the rest of the French justice, I mean such as like us, they adopt only our egregious follies, and in particular the flower of them, horse-racing ! Le Roi Pepin, a racer, is the horse in fashion. I suppose the next shameful practice of ours they naturalize wiU be personal scurrilities in the newspapers, especially on young and handsome women, in which we certainly are originals! Voltaire, who first brought us into fashion in France, is stark mad at his own success. Out of envy to writers of his own nation, he cried up Shakespeare ; and now is distracted at the just encomiums bestowed on that first genius of the world in the new translation1. He sent to the French Academy an invective that bears all the marks of passionate dotage. Mrs. Montagu2 happened to be present when it was read. Suard 3, one of their writers, said to her, ' Je crois, Madame, que vous etes un peu fachee de ce que vous venez d'en- Letter 1735. — 1 Le Tourneur's against Voltaire. Walpole. translations into French. 3 Jean Baptiste Antoine Suard 2 Mrs. Robinson Montagu, who (1733-1817), member of the French wrote the Defence of Shakespeare Academy. 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 445 tendre.' She replied, ' Moi, Monsieur ! point du tout ! Je ne suis pas amie de Monsieur Voltaire.' I shall go to town the day after to-morrow, and will add a postscript if I hear any news. Dec. 3rd. I am come late, have seen nobody, and must send away my letter. 1736. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Dec. 3, 1776. I should not have waited for a regular response, Madam, if I had not been precisely in the same predicament with your Ladyship, reduced to write from old books to tell you anything new. I have been three days at Strawberry, and have not seen a creature but Sir John Hawkins's five volumes1, the two last of which, thumping as they are, I literally did read in two days. They are old books to all intents and purposes, very old books ; and what is new, is like old books, too, that is, full of minute facts that dehght antiquaries : nay, if there had never been such things as parts and taste, this work would please everybody. The first volume is extremely worth looking at, for the curious facsimiles of old music and old instruments, and so is the second. The third is very heavy ; the two last wUl amuse you, I think, exceedingly, at least they do me. My friend, Sir John, is a matter-of-fact man, and does now and then stoop very low in quest of game. Then he is so exceedingly religious and grave as to abhor mirth, except it is printed in the old black letter, and then he calls the most vulgar ballad pleasant and full of humour. He thinks nothing can be sublime but an anthem, and Handel's choruses heaven upon earth. However he writes with great modera- Letter 1736 1 Hawkins' History of Music. 446 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 tion, temper, and good sense, and the book is a very valuable one. I have begged his austerity to relax in one point, for he ranks comedy with farce and pantomime. Now I hold a perfect comedy to be the perfection of human composition, and believe firmly that fifty Iliads and JEneids could be written sooner than such a character as Falstaff's. Sir John says that Dr. Wallis discovered that they who are not charmed with music want a nerve in their brain. This would be dangerous anatomy. I should swear Sir John wants the comic nerve ; and by parity of reason, we should ascribe new nerves to all those who have bad taste, or are delighted with what others think ridiculous. We should have nerves like Eomish saints to preside over every folly ; and Mr. Cosmo must have a nerve which I hope Dr. Wallis would not find in 50,000 dissections. Eechin, too, had a sort of nerve that is lost like the music of the ancients ; yet, perhaps, the royal touch could revive it more easily than it cures the evil. 4th. The quarrel between the SS. Cosmo and Damian2, they say, is at an end. I kept back my letter in hopes of some thing to tell your Ladyship, but there is a universal yawn, and the town as empty as in August. I heard only a good story of Mrs. Boscawen8, the Admiral's widow, who lives near London, and came to town as soon as she had dined at her country hour. She said, ' I expected to find everybody at dinner, but instead of that, I found all the young ladies strolling about the streets, and not thinking of going home to dress for dinner ; so I had set out in the evening, and yet got to town in the morning of the same day.' 2 Patron saints of the medical s Frances (d. 1805), daughter of profession ; probably an allusion to William Evelyn Glanville, of St. the constant disputes between the Clair, Kent ; m. (1744) Hon. Edward brothers — William Hunter the ana- (afterwards Admiral) Boscawen. tomist and John Hunter the surgeon. 1776] To the Bev. William Cole 447 I shall stay here for Mr. Mason's Caractacus that is to be acted on Friday, and then return to my hUl. 1737. To George Allan1. Sir, Strawberry Hill, Dec. 9, 1776. As I have not the satisfaction of being acquainted with you, I must think myself very particularly obliged by your present of the two fine and very like prints of Bishop Trevor a, and beg you will be pleased to accept my sincere thanks. If you ever happen to pass this way I shall be extremely glad to show you the collection you have so handsomely adorned, and to have an opportunity in person of assuring you how gratefully I am, Sir, Your most obliged and obedient humble servant, Hob. Walpole. 1738. To the Rev. William Cole. Strawberry Hill, Dec. 9, 1776. I know you love an episcopal print ', and, therefore, I send you one of two, that have just been given to me. As you have time and patience, too, I recommend you to peruse Sir John Hawkins's new History of Music. It is true, there are five huge volumes in quarto, and perhaps you may not care for the expense, but surely you can borrow them in the University, and, though you may, no more than I, delight in the scientific part, there is so much about cathedral service, and choirs, and other old matters, that I am sure you Letter1737. — NotinC; reprinted profession an attorney. from Nichols' Literary Anecdotes, 2 A former Bishop of Durham. vol. viii. p. 509. Letter 1738. — * See the previous 1 George Allan (1736-1800), topo- letter. grapher and antiquary. He was by 448 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [me will be amused with a great deal, particularly the two last volumes, and the facsimUes of old music in the first. I doubt it is a work that will not sell rapidly, but it must have a place in all great libraries. Pray tell Mr. Essex his ceUing is finished, and very well executed. As we have not had about2 two or three cold days, I hope the winter agrees with you, and that your complaints are gone off. Adieu, dear Sir. Yours most sincerely, H.W. 1739. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Dec. 17, 1776. It is not from being made Archbishop of York1 that I write by a secretary, Madam ; but because my right hand has lost its cunning. It has had the gout ever since Friday night, and I am overjoyed with it, for there is no appearance of its going any farther. I came to town on Sunday in a panic, concluding I should be bedrid for three months, but I went out last night, and think I shall be able in a few days to play upon the guitar if I could play upon it at aU. I know very little, but that for want of Parliament General Burgoyne is at this moment making an oration from the rostrum to the citizens of Westminster, in recommendation of Lord Petersham * ; and that Doctor FrankUn, at seventy- two, is arrived3 in a frigate at Nantes, and has brought in two prizes that he took in his way. He was to be at Paris on Saturday night. He left everything quiet in America on the 30th of October, and I have been just told that letters 2 So in original ; read ' above.' Viscount Petersham ; eldest son of Letter 1739. — 1 Markham, Bishop second Earl of Harrington, whom of Chester, was appointed Archbishop he succeeded in 1779. of York on Dec. 16, 1776. * 3 As Envoy to the court of France. 2 Charles Stanhope (1753-1829), 1776] To Sir Horace Mann 449 are come from Lord Howe of the 13th of November, in which he asks for some more cables, and says he has written by another ship that is not arrived. I have seen the picture of St. George, and approve the Duke of Bedford's head, an d the exact likeness of Miss Vernon, but the attitude is mean and foolish, and expresses silly wonderment. But of all delicious is a picture of a little girl * of the Duke of Buccleuch, who is overlaid with a long cloak, bonnet, and muff, in the midst of the snow, and is perishing blue and red with cold, but looks so smiling, and so good-humoured, that one longs to catch her up in one's arms and kiss her till she is in a sweat and squalls. My hand has not a word more to say. 1740. To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Dec. 20, 1776. I cannot write to you myself, my dear Sir, for I have the gout in my right hand and wrist, and feel enough of it about me to fear that it will make its general tour ; which by this third year's experience, seems to have grown annual instead of biennial : however, I am stUl so partial to the bootikins, as to believe that it is they that save me from having near so much pain as other gouty people complain of; and, while I do not suffer much, there is no great hardship in an old man's being confined to his own house. It is not, however, to talk of myself that I send you this ; but to tell you that I have received your letter for Lord North, and as I could not carry it myself, I sent it to him by a friend, and do not doubt but so just a request wUl be attended to. * Lady Caroline Scott, afterwards a portrait of her mother and another Marchioness of Queensberry. She child. Sir Joshua was so much entered the room, dressed as Horace struck by her costume that he in- Walpole describes her, while Sir sisted on painting her portrait in it. Joshua Reynolds was engaged on WALPOLE. ix q g 450 To fhe Countess of Upper Ossory [1776 It looks very much as if we should know soon whether America is to be subdued or saved by a French war. We heard on Tuesday last that Dr. Franklin himseH was landed in France — no equivocal step ; and on Wednesday came a full explanation. General Howe had made two movements, that threatened enclosmg Washington, and cutting him off from his magazines : a small engagement ensued, in which the Americans were driven from a post without much loss on either side. Washington has since retired with his whole army to other heights, about five miles off, seeming to intend to protract the war, as was always thought would be their wisest way ; but, as the Americans do not behave very heroically, and as the King's fleet wUl now be masters of the coast, it is supposed that Washington must retire north ward, and that the Howes wUl make great progress in the south, if not prevented by the rigour of the season. As nearly as I can make out, Dr. Franklin must have sailed a day or two after Washington's retreat ; and therefore it is natural to conclude that he is come to tell France that she must directly interpose and protect the Americans, or that the Americans must submit to such terms as they can obtain. If I am not wrong in my reasons, the question is thus brought to a short issue, and there I leave it. I am never fond of speculations, and not at aU so when I am not quite well. Adieu ! 1741. To the Countess of Upper Ossory. Arlington Street, Dec. 23, 1776. I know, Madam, I ought to have thanked your Ladyship immediately for your very friendly letter, but I have been too much out of order even to dictate. Though just now I am out of pain, I am so unwell that I conclude there is a mass of gout moulding itseU for the rest of my limbs, 1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 451 though hitherto it has kept closely to my right arm. I did most assuredly intend to be at AmpthUl this Christmas, and my project was to have asked you last Tuesday when it should be. I heartily repent that I did not make my visit when I was able : I ought to have remembered that I must take time by the forelock, especially considering how few hairs are left in that lock for me. The party you are so good as to propose to me, Madam, would be very agreeable indeed, U it could do anything but tantalize me ; and I am sad company for the young or healthful. I must not think of going anywhither but with Wolsey's speech in my mouth, ' Father Abbot, I am come to lay my weary bones amongst you!' I am sure I have nothing else to carry ! So, the Howes did not think their prodigious victory worth writing a line about ! They little know that if they did but send us a bantam egg we can hatch an ostrich from it. I do not know what ardour anybody may have to confer with Dr. Franklin, but I do not believe the Doctor will con descend to be at home to an Englishman. They say Lord S.1 took infinite pains for an interview with Silas Dean ; and when he did at last bring it about, he might as well have obtained a personal audience from the Grand Signior without an interpreter. As I have no resource but in quartos in the few moments when I can do anything, I am reading the Life of Philip II, by a professor of St. Andrews a. I sent for it to see how a Scotchman would celebrate the barbarities of Philip, Cardinal GranvUle, and the Duke of Alva, in the United Provinces ; but to my utter astonishment the man does not, as most biographers do, when they write the life of Letter 1741. — x Lord Stormont, Principal of St. Salvator's College in Ambassador at Paris. 1777 ; d. 1781. 2 Robert Watson, LL.D., appointed Gg2 452 To fhe Comtesse de Yvry [1776 a Charles I, or a Eichard IIL fall in love with his hero. On the contrary, he is so just and exphcit, that I beheve even Dr. Franklin would admit him to kiss his hand. But I have read only the first volume: the author may come about : the second tome of many a man is a contradiction to his first. Adieu, Madam, I wish I could distribute all the happiness I miss upon your Christmas. 1742. To the Comtesse de Viry. [1776.] Lady Weymouth1 m'a dit, Madame, que vousmereprochiez de ne vous avoir pas envoye la Vie de Mr. Gray 2 comme je vous l'avais promis. J'avoue a ma honte que vous avez raison, et que vous me rendriez justice si vous me grondiez sans pitie. Cependant comme U n'y a si mauvaise cause qui puisse se d6fendre, U me semble que si j'avois un peu d'eloquence, je desarmerois non seulement votre colere, mais je craindrois de vous voir comme Niobe, convertie en pierre a force de pleurer. En un mot, la goutte m'a mis a la torture depuis quatre mois ; or, je ne sais comment cela se fait, mais les douleurs excessives ne me rappellent jamais rien d'agr6- able. Comment s'attendre done que les angoisses, l'apothi- caire Graham, les flanelles, et une chaise longue pussent rappeler a ma memoire l'esprit, la vivacite, la bonne humeur et la gaietS ? Bien loin de cela, Madame, je vous proteste que quand Lady Weymouth prononca votre nom, je me reveiUai comme sortant d'un r§ve. II m'est arriv6 comme Letter 1742. — Not in C. ; now 1 Lady Weymouth was a daughter first printed from MS. copy, anno- of the Duke of Portland, and Lady tated by Walpole, iu possession of of the Bedchamber to Queen Char- Mr. W. R Parker-Jervis. The letter lotte. Walpole. . is unknown except in the transla- 2 The Life of Mr. Gray, by Mr tion, which was made (probably for Mason. Miss Speed was one of the Madame du Deffand's benefit) by the heroines of Mr. Gray's Long Story. Rev. Louis Dutens, author of Sou- Walpole. venire d)un Voyageur qui se repose. 1776] To the Comtesse de Viry 453 au sultan des MUle et Une Nuits, qui ayant plonge sa tete dans une cuve d'eau, s'imagine avoir passe vingt ans dans la pauvret6 et-dans la misere, et quand il sortit sa tete hors de l'eau, se trouva au miheu de sa cour, et aussi sultan que jamais. Je me ressouviens a present qu'au mois d'Aout et de Septembre dernier, j'ai vu Madame de Viry 3 feter toute la France, repandant la gaiete au milieu des ceremonies, mettant la foule a son aise, et paraissant elle-meme aussi gaie, aussi amusante et amusee que si (au lieu d'avoir imagine des projets de pompe et de plaisirs pour tout Versailles et Paris) U y avoit eu des legions de fees et de graces occupies a l'amuser *. Vous voyez, Madame, par la verity de ce portrait que j'ai certainement recouvre mes sens et ma memoire, qu'U falloit que j'eusse perdus quand je vous oubUai. A l'avenir je craindrois plus que jamais la goutte, n'ayant pas su jusqu'a present qu'elle attaquoit ma tete. Lady Temple6, Lord and Lady Edgcumbe et Lord Nuneham qui m'ont console dans mon bequUlage6, et en ont ete temoins, m'ont cache avec soin cette facheuse partie de ma situation. Mais je suis desole de cette decouverte, et a moins qu'au Ueu 3 Miss Speed was brought up by their estate on the King of Sardinia's the Lady Viscountess Cobham, who discovering a secret correspondence left her above forty thousand pounds. between the Count and a clerk in She married Le Baron de Perrier, the Secretary's office, the true history only son of the Comte de Vini, Em- of which is not known. Walpole. bassador to England from Sardinia, e These were particular friends of whom he succeeded in the titles of Miss Speed before her leaving Eng- Virri, and was himself Embassador land. Anna Chamber, Countess in Spain and France. Madame de Temple, was niece by marriage of Virri had a great deal of wit. Wai- Lady Cobham. George, Lord Edg- pole. cumbe, was the third Baron and * Mr. Walpole was in Paris in first Viscount of that family: his 1775, when Madame, eldest sister of wife was daughter and heiress of Louis XVI, was married to the Dr. Gilbert, Archbishop of York. Prince of Piemont. Monsr. and George Simon, Lord Nuneham, was Madame de Virri made great enter- the second Earl of Harcourt. Wal- tainments on that occasion, and all pole. that is said here of her address is 6 I do not recollect what the word strictly true. They were soon after was in the original. Walpole. disgraced, recalled, and banished to 454 To fhe Comtesse de Viry [1776 de me blamer vous ne me disiez que vous avez pitie de moi, je suis menace d'une rechute. Mais je me flatte que Mr. Gray fera ma paix ; ses lettres vous mettront ou plutdt vous entre- tiendront tellement en bonne humeur que vous oublierez mon oubli et me croirez encore, Madame, Votre, 6tc.' 7 This letter was certainly written fand did not understand a word of in English. I do not know by whom English. Walpole. it was translated. Madame du Def- END OP VOL. IX OXFORD PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS BY HORACE HART, M.A. PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY 3 9002 00573