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I.ADV LLANOVER. y _ U3') S ?> 


VOL. I. 


1861. ^ 












Mary Granville was the eldest daughter of Bernard 
Granville, son of Bernard, the second surviving son of 
the celebrated Sir Bevil Granville. At different periods 
Mary Granville had commenced a history of her own 
recollections, of which two unfinished MSS. still exist. 
They contain many interesting particulars of her early* 
days, with which, and numerous letters written by her- 
self through a long course of years addressed to her re- 
lations and friends, the materials for a very complete 
record of her life and times have been supplied. The 
autobiographical fragment which forms the commence- 
ment of the present Volume relates to her origin and 
earliest days, though it appears to have been written in 
the latter years of her life, as it was dictated to a con- 
fidential amanuensis, but the series of letters which 
form the second autobiographical MSS. were addressed 


to her most intimate friend, the Duchess of Portland 
(Margaret Cavendish Harley). The original MS. is 
in the handwriting of Mrs. Delany, and is dated 1740, 
but it is evident that it was continued during suc- 
cessive years, and to render the chain of events more 
complete the original letters of her uncle (George Lord 
Lansdown) and other relations are introduced in the 
course of her own biographical narrative, with those of 
Mary Granville herself to her mother and sister, after 
her first marriage, and in their proper order of dates 
when written during the period to which her own 
history relates. 

It may be necessary to remind those who do not 
recollect the style of writing of the 18th century 
(especially the early part of it), that many peculiarities 
which would now be considered as grammatical inac- 
curacies were then sanctioned by Pope and Addison, 
in whose most elaborate compositions " you was " may 
be found, as well as in the correspondence of Horace 
Walpole. The Editor has preserved the phraseology of 
the letters contained in this work, by which means the 
superiority of the style of Mary Granville can be 
measured by comparison with the greater part of her 
contemporaries in her own class, and although it must 
be admitted she was not only the favourite niece, but 


almost the pupil of George Lord Lansdown, yet she 
married so early that she was separated from him at 
an age when even in these days the epistolary style of 
young ladies is generally very faulty and unformed. 

The object of the Editor in publishing this Work 
is to give a true account of a person whose name 
as " Mrs. Delany " is still revered, and has been so 
for more than a hundred years, but of whom very 
little beyond that name is now remembered. Had 
nothing ever been published about Mrs. Delany it 
is probable that her autobiography and the corre- 
spondence contained in these volumes would never 
have seen the light ; but as notices of her have ap- 
peared, both in this and the last century, which gave 
an erroneous impression, the Editor felt that as the 
descendant of her only sister, Ann Grranville, it was a 
duty to her memory to give these MSS. to the world, 
the simplicity of which, together with the fact of their 
never having been intended for public perusal, will 
disarm the severity of criticism. 

It is an extraordinary fact that the name of a private 
individual, who always shunned publicity, should have 
been hallowed and remembered for more than a hundred 
years, but it is still more extraordinary that so many 
proofs of her remarkable talents, industry, and ingenuity, 

VOL. I. h 


should have been sacredly preserved to this day to her 

The life of Mrs. Delany is interesting in itself from 
the gradual development of her own character, and the 
evident self-improvement which is clearly to be traced 
as perceptibly increasing, until that combination of 
virtues and talents was matured which rendered her 
for so many years worthy of the notice and confidence 
with which she was honoured to the day of her death 
by their late Majesties George the Third and Queen 

December, 1860. 





From the Biktii of Mary Granville to her First Marriage. 


I WAS born in the year 1700/ at a small country- 
house of ray father's at Coulston, in Wiltshire. My 
father was grandson of Sir Bevil Granville, who was 
killed on Lansdown, in the year 1643, fighting for his 
king and country. A monument was erected on the 
spot, recording his loyalty, his valour, and his death. 
At the very moment he was slain, he had the patent 
for the Earldom of Bath in his pocket, with a letter 
from King Charles I. acknowledging his services. This 
letter is still in the family. He left sons, the eldest 
of whom, John, took up the title at the time of the 
Restoration, and his sisters were allowed to rank as 
Earl's daughters. Bernard,^ my grandfather, the youngest 

' May 14:th. — This frao;ment was dictated by Mary Granville. 

^ Bernard Granville, next brother to John, 1st Earl of Bath, married Ann, 
only child and heir of Cuthbert Morley, of Cleveland, in the connty of York, 
Esq., and of his wife, the Lady Catharine Leek, daughter to Francis, Earl of 
Scarsdale, she was therefore " the maternal grand-davglder of the Earl of 

YOL. I. B 


son of Sir Bevil, was the messenger to Charles II. of the 
joyful tidings that he might return to his kingdom in j 
safety. He was made Grroom of the Bedchamber at the 
Eestoration, married Miss Morley, maternal grand- 
daughter of the Earl of Scarsdale, and had three sons 
and two daughters. 

My uncle, Sir Bevil, the eldest son, was Governor 
of Barbadoes, and died in his passage home ; George, 
the second, was created Lord Lansdown,by Queen Anne, 
and my father, Bernard, the youngest, married a daughter 
of Sir Martin Westcomb, Consul of Cadiz. My aunt, 
Ann, the eldest daughter, was Maid of Honour to 
Queen Mary, after whose death she married Sir 
John Stanley/ King William, who bestowed the 
usual addition to the Maid of Honour's portion, 
granted her the apartments in Whitehall which were 
afterwards the Duke of Dorset's. Sir John was at 
that time Secretary to the Lord Chamberlain, Duke of 

Elizabeth, the youngest daughter, died unmarried. 

At six years old I was placed under the care of a 
Madlle. Puelle, a refugee of a very respectable character, 
and well qualified for her business. She undertook but 
twenty scholars at a time, among whom were Lady 
Catherine KnoUys, daughter to the Earl of Banbury, and 
great aunt to the present Lord ; Miss Halsey, daughter 
to a very considerable brewer, and afterwards married 
to Lord Temple, Earl of Cobham ; Lady Jane Douglas, 

In the List of Baronets'appended to the sixth edition of Gwillym's '« Display 
of Heraldry ' 1724, and under the head "Anno Domini, 1699," and "Re-is 
Guil. 3 11 stands « April 14, John Stanley, of Grange Gorman, in the kin<^- 
dom of Ireland, Esq. Argent, on a Bend Azure, 3 Bucks' heads cahoched Or " 


daughter of the Duke of Douglas, and mother to the 
present Mr. Douglas, whose remarkable story in the 
dispute of his birth,^ is well known; and MissDye 
Bertie, a daughter of Mrs. Oldfield, the actress, who after 
lea\dng school, was the pink of fashion in the beau monde, 
and married a nobleman. 

At eight years old my Aunt Stanley took me to live 
with her and Sir John Stanley at Whitehall. I quitted 
my good aud kind mistress with great sorrow, as well 
as Lady Jane Douglas (whose regard for me made her 
delight in all my little occupations ; she would pick up 
the little flowers and birds I was fond of cutting out in 
paper, and pin them carefully to her gown or apron, 
that she might not tear them by putting them in her 
pocket ; and I have heard of her preserving them many 
years after). She kept a partial remembrance of our early 
affection to the end of her life, though I never saw her 
from the moment of leaving school ; but I received 
numberless proofs of her regard by messages and enquiries 
which were sent to me by every opportunity she could 
meet with. 

At the same time London not agreeing with the 
health of my mother, my father settled himself and his 
family, consisting of two sons and a daughter, at Little 

1 Archibald, last Duke of Douglas, died in the year 1761. In right of a 
lineal descent from the Duke's paternal ancestors, James George Hamilton, 7th 
Duke of Hamilton, succeeded to the titles of Marquis of Douglas and Earl of 
Angus on the death of the Duke of Douglas ; Lady Jane Douglas, sister 
of Duke Archibald, was sole heir to his fortune. She m. Sir John Stewart, of 
Grandtully, Bart., and had twin sons who were born at Paris, July 10, 1748. 
Sholto died young, — Archibald succeeded to the estates of the Duke of 
Douglas, assumed his name and arms, and in 1771, married Lucy, only 
daughter of William. Graham, 2nd Duke of Montrose, and in July, 1780, 
was created Baron Douglas. The Hamilton family impugned his birth, and 
laid claim to the Douglas propeiiy. 



Chelsea. My uncle and aunt, though very kind to me, 
were too grave and serious to supply the place of the 
companions I had left. But I soon formed new con- 
nections that helped to cheer me for those I had lost. 
The fine Gothic gate which divided Whitehall, commonly 
called the Cockpit, from King Street, was inhabited by 
Hyde, Earl of Eochester, younger brother of the Earl 
of Clarendon, and second son to the great Chancellor. 
Lord Hyde, the Earl of Eochester's eldest son, married 
Miss Lewson, daughter of Lord Gower, and grand- 
daughter of Sir Bevil Granville, and they and their 
large family at this time all lived with Lord Eochester ;^ 
where I soon grew into great intimacy with my 
young cousins. But chiefly my acquaintance was with 
Miss Catherine, afterwards the celebrated Duchess of 
Queensbury, who was exactly of my own age, and whose 
wit, beauty, and oddities made her from her early years 
when she was ' Kitty beautiful and young ' to the end 
of a long life, a general object of animadversion, censure 
and admiration. Another of my earliest connections, 
from inclination, was with Miss Judith Titchburne,^ a 
niece of Sir John Stanley's brother's wife, who was one 
year younger than myself. She was very pretty, tall, and 
of a good figure, and very sensible and agreeable, though 
so shy and bashful that she by no means did herself 

' Jane, youngest daughter of Sir William Leveson Gower, and of his wife 
the Lady Jane Granville, (eldest daughter of John Granville, 1st Earl of 
Bath ;) married Henry Hyde, 2nd Earl of Rochester, who became 4th Earl of 
Clarendon by the death of his cousin, the 3rd Earl, in 1723. In him both 
Earldoms became extinct. 

2 Daughter and co-l,eiress of Benjamin Tichbourne, Esq. Slie married 
Charles, 3id Earl of Sunderland, in 1717; became a widow in April 172" • 
and married the Rt. Hon. Sir Robert Sutton, K.B., in 1725. """ ' 


During my residence at Sir Jolm Stanley's, tliere 
happened the very remarkable attack upon the life of my 
Lord Oxford/ by Guiscard. Tliis man had already been 
taken up as a spy and sent to the Tower, from whence 
he was brought to the Council to be examined. When 
he came into the anti-chamber, where the clerks were in 
waiting, his hands, which had been muffled, were untied ; 
and he then contrived to seize a penknife, which he con- 
cealed till he was brought up to the Lords to be ex- 
amined. He then suddenly stabbed the Earl of Oxford, 
and had not the blow been lessened by the thickness of 
the coat-sleeve, it would have been a fatal stroke : the 
blade came against one of his ribs, which broke it in two. 
In that state the knife is now preserved in the family. 

In the year 10 I first saw Mr. Handel, who was 

' This occurred on the 8th of Maich, 1711; the lU. Hon. Robert Harley, 
afterwards 1st Earl of Oxford, being then Chancellor of the Exchequer. Sir 
Robert Harley, 1st Earl of Oxford and Mortimer, was successivt'ly Si^aker 
of the House of Commons, Secretary of State, and Chancellor of the Ex- 
chequer under Queen Anne. On the accession of George I., in 1714, he and 
his party fell into disgrace. Many of them were impeached for high treason, 
and fled the country, but the Earl of Oxford, after the passing of a bill of 
attainder against him, stood his ground, and was committed to the Tower in 
June 1715. After two years' imprisonment, he was brought to his trial in 
Westminster Hall. None of his accusers appeared against him, and he was 
dismissed. Tlie rest of his life was spent in privacy, and he died in 1724. 
He was twice married, first to Elizabeth, sister of I'homas, 1st Lord Foley, 
and second to Sarah, daughter of Thomas Middleton, I]sq. 

Edward, 2nd Earl of Oxford, was the son of the 1st Earl by his first marriage. 
The date of his birth is not given either by Debrett or Burke, but it must 
have been lieen about the year 1G90. He collected the Harieian MSS., which 
after his decease were purchased by Government for the British Museum. He 
married, in 1713, Henrietta Cavendish Holies, the only child and heir of John 
Holies, last Duke of Newcastle, of that family. Edward, 2nd Earl of Oxford, 
had only one child, Margaret Cavendish, born in 1714, and married in 1734, to 
William, 2nd Puke of Portland : she was the heiress of her mother's property. 
Her father's titles descended to his cousin, Edward Harley, 3rd Earl of Ox- 
ford, who married, in 1725, Martha, daughter of John Morgan, of Tredegar, Esq. 


introduced to my uncle Stanley by Mr. Heidegger, the 
famous manager of the opera, and the most ugly man 
that ever was formed/ We had no better instrument 
in the house than a little spinnet of mine, on which 
that great musician performed wonders. I was much 
struck with his playing, but struck as a child, not a 
judge, for the moment he was gone, I seated myself 
to my instrument, and played the best lesson I had 
then learnt ; my uncle archly asked me whether I thought 
I should ever play as well as Mr. Handel. * If I did 
not think I should,' cried I, * I would burn my instru- 
ment !' such was the innocent presumption of childish 

I ' Here ends this Fragment, which was probably written by Mrs. 
Delany, in her latter years, with the intention of completing a 
private record of her life for her own family. 

The following letters written by Mary Granville (Mrs. Delany), 
contain her own recollections of a great part of her life, the 
extraordinary accuracy of which may be judged by the corro- 
boration of other letters to and from her family, which are 
introduced where they are contemporaneous, but which Mrs. 
Delany did not herself collect, or consequently refer to. These 
letters were addressed to her intimate friend Margaret Cavendish 

* Heidegger's term as principal lessee of the Haymarket Theatre terminated 
in 1734, and his partnership with Handel then ceased. A curious anecdote of 
Heidegger is mentioned in Scha?lcher's Life of Handel — James Heidegger, 
commonly called the ' Swiss Count.' He was said to be the ugliest man of 
his time, and his portrait, in that character, was engraved at least ten or twelve 
times. Lord Chesterfield laid a wager that it was impossible to discover 
a human being so disgraced by nature. After having searched through the 
town, a hideous old woman was found, but it was agreed that Heidegger was 
handsomer, but as Heidegger was pluming himself upon his victory, 
Chesterfield required that he should put on the old woman's bonnet ; tlius 
attired, the Swiss Count appeared horribly ugly, and Chesterfield wa» 
unanimously declared the winner, amid thunders of applause. 


Harley, Duchess of Portland. The persons mentioned are 
designated by fictitious names, the key to which was given by 
Mrs. Delany on a separate sheet of paper, each name having a 
letter of the alphabet which corresponded with those on the 
key ; but to save trouble the names given by herself are here 
printed in italics to distinguish them from the Editor's notes. 


Letters to my dear Friend, begun in the year 1740. 

The task you have set me, my dearest Maria,' is a 
very hard one, and nothing but the complying with the 
earnest request from so tender a friend, could prevail 
with me to undertake it. You are so well acquainted with 
my family, that it is unnecessary for me to inform you 
of the ebbs and flows that have attended it for many 
years ; in the most prosperous time of our fortune you 
were not bom. 

The death of Queen Anne^ made a considerable altera- 
tion in our affairs : we were of the discontented party, 
and not without reason ; not only my father, but all my 
relations that were in public employments, suffered 
greatly by this change. My father being a younger 
brother, his chief dependance was on the favour of the 
Court and his brother's friendship ; the first being with- 
drawn, he had recourse to the latter, and was offered by 

' The real Christian name of the Duchess of Portland was Margaret, but it 
was the fashion of the time for friends to be known amongst each other by 
fictitious appellations. 

* Queen Anne died August 1, 1714. 


him a retreat in the country, and an addition to the 
small remains of his fortune ; he retired with my mother 
my sister and myself. Anna^ (my sister's name), who 
was then a little girl, too young to consider how much 
such a retirement might prove to her disadvantage, was 
delighted with a new scene. 

I was then fifteen years of age, had been brought 
up under the care of my aunt Valeria,'^ a woman of 
extraordinary sense, remarkably well-bred and agreeable, 
who had been Maid of Honour to Queen Mary,^ was 
particularly favoured and distinguished by her, and 
early attained all the advantages of such an education 
under so great and excellent a princess, without the 
least taint or blemish incident to that state of life, so 
dangerous to young minds. Her penetration made her 
betimes observe an impetuosity in my temper, which 
made her judge it necessary to moderate it by mortifying 
my spirit, lest it should grow too lively and unruly for 
my reason. I own I often found it rebellious, and could 
ill bear the frequent checks I met with, which I too 
easily interpreted into indignities, and have not been 
able wholly to reconcile to any other character from that 
day to this ; nevertheless, the train of mortifications that I 
have met with since, convince me it was happy for me to 
have been early inured to disappointments and vexations. 

' Ann Granville. 

2 Lady Stanley. Ann, eldest daughter of Bernard Granville, Master of the 
Horse to King Charles II., married Sir John Stanley, Baronet, of Grange 
Gormon, Ireland. 

3 The seal given by Queen Mary to Ann Granville (afterwards Lady Stanley), 
is still preserved in the family. It has the head of Minerva in a hehn'et, 
engraved on an amethyst, with the crown and M. in the comer, also a mottn 
round it, which unfortunately has become illegible from use and having been 
cut in the part of the stone which projected beyond the gold setting. 


Valeria was very fond of me, l3ut too generous to de- 
prive ray father and mother of what they might think 
a comfort in their retirement ; so upon their going into 
the country, I quitted lier and went with them. 

My eldest brother was then at the academy, and my 
youngest at a public school ; but I can tell you no 
particulars relating to them but as they are mixed with 
my own life ; for I begin already to tremble at the 
tediousness of these letters. I must take breath, and 
next post will pursue my subject. T hope you will 
consider how much your patience must suffer, repent 
of your commands, and release me from my engagement. 

Explanations by Mrs. Delany appended to this Letter. 

Alcander^ the year after the accession of George I. was 
sent to the Tower, at the same time with Lord Oxford. 'My 
father, who then resided in Poland-street, upon this change in 
the affairs of his family determined upon retiring into the 
country. He ordered two carriages to be at his door at six o'clock, 
and gave a charge to all his people not to mention his design, as 
he did not wish to take a solemn leave of his friends upon an 
absence of such uncertain duration. The man from whom the 
horses were hired, and who proved to be a spy, immediately, in 
hopes of a reward, gave information at theSecretary of State's Office 
of these private orders, affirming that it was his belief the Colonel 
and his family were going secretly out of the kingdom. I was 
sleeping in the same bed with my sister, when I was suddenly 
awakened by a disturbance in my room. My first idea was of 
being called to rise early, in order to sit for my picture, which 
was then painting for my father, but the moment I looked round 
me, I saw two soldiers standing by the bedside with guns in their 

* Georye, Lord Lansdowne. 


hands. I shrieked with terror, and started up in my bed. 
" Come, Misses/' cried one of the men, " make haste and get up 
for you are going to Lord Townshend's"^ (then Secretary of State). 

I cried violently : they desired me not to be frightened. My 
mother's maid was with difficulty admitted into the room to dress 
us. My little sister, then but nine years'' old, had conceived no 
terror from this intrusion, but when the maid was going to put on 
her frock, called out, " No, no, I won't wear my frock, I must 
have my bib and apron ; I am going to Lord Townshend's." 

When we were dressed, we were carried to my father and 
mother, whom we found surrounded by officers and messengers ; 
two of each and sixteen soldiers being employed in and about 
the house. My father was extremely shocked by this scene, but 
supported himself with the utmost composure and magnanimity ; 
his chief care being to calm and comfort my mother, who was 
greatly terrified, and fell into hysteric fits one after another. 

Here, before any removal could take place, while we were in 
the midst of our distress and alarm, my aunt Valeria forced her 
way into the room. Intelligence having reached her, by means 
of one of my father's servants, of the situation we were in, she 
instantly came, but was refused admittance. She was not, how- 
ever, to be denied ; she told the officers that she would be 
answerable for everything to Lord Townshend, and insisted on 
passing, with a courage and firmness that conquered their opposi- 
tion. I can never forget her meeting with my father ; she loved 
him with the extremest affection, and could never part from him, 
even for a short absence, without tears ; they embraced one 
another with the most tender sadness, and she was extremely 
good in consoling my poor mother. She entreated that the mes- 
sengers would at least suffer her to convey them to their confine- 
ment herself in her own coach, but this they peremptorily refused. 
She then protested she would positively be responsible for carry- 
ing her two young nieces to her own house, instead of seeing 
them conveyed to the messenger's, and in this point she con- 

Charles, 2nd Viscuuut Townshoud. 


qiiered, and being forced to separate from my father, she had us 
both put into her coach, and carried us to W hitehall. 

Valeria had a very particular attachment to a young woman 
who attended her person, she was her god-daughter, and daughter 
to a governess that had lived with her till she married Sebastian. 
She was of a very good family in France and married to a general 
officer, by whom she had this child, but he was a very libertine 
man, and soon reduced her circumstances to oblige her to seek 
for a maintenance in a much lower style, upon which she quitted 
France and was recommended to my grandmother Granville, 
who placed her about my aunt. Her ill health obliged her 
to leave her service soon after my aunt married, but she left her 
daughter under her protection. The girl was then fifteen, about 
three years before my aunt took me from school, at which time 
I was eight years' old. Miss Tellier was sensible, ingenious, and 
very well in her appearance ; perfectly mistress of French, and 
she behaved herself with great aflfection towards her benefactress, 
whose great partiality and indulgence to her made her expect 
more than she had a right to claim. She soon grew jealous of 
the increasing kindness / met with, both from my uncle and 
aunt, and was a strong instance how dangerous it is to the best 
dispositions to be too much occupied with an opinion of their 
own merits, for this carried her so far as to make her wish I 
should be removed. 

She began with insinuations to my aunt to my disadvantage, 
as I found by my aunt's alteration in her behaviour to me. I 
was a lively, merry child, but I do not recollect I was mischievous, 
and always very fond of those that showed me any kindness. 
Miss Tellier fell into an ill state of health, and attributed it to a 
blow I had given her upon her breast, which might have happened 
in my sleep, as I was always her bed-fellow, but I am siure not in- 
tentionally, as I was not of a revengeful nature. But this un- 
happy turn in her disposition towards me occasioned me much 
sorrow, for as I loved my aunt with warm affection every mark 
of her displeasure made me miserable, therefore I was not sorry 
when my father and mother took me home. I never uttered a 
word of this affair to them. Miss Tellier soon recovered her health 


and I was always received very kindly when sent to pay my duty 
there. I must in justice to the memory of poor Miss T. assure 
you that in the latter part of her life she made me all the amends 
in her power for the injury she had done me. She was convinced 
in her own mind that I had not deserved it, and for some years 
before her death she did me and my brother every good office in 
her power with my uncle and aunt, and at her death left me 
many valuable presents that she had received from Valeria ; 
indeed divided between my brother, sister, and myself, all she 
was worth. 



I am very sorry I can't prevail with you to let me 
be silent; you will be the sufferer, but since you are 
obstinate, you deserve the punishment. At the age I was 
when I left the fine world (as I then thought it), I ma 
own, without fear of much reproach, I left it with great 
regret. I had been brought up with the expectation of 
being Maid of Honour. I had been at one play and one 
opera, and thought the poet's description ofthe Elysium 
fields nothing to the delights of those entertainments ; 
I lamented the loss of my young companions, and the 
universal gaiety I parted with when I left London. I 
often repeated Mr. Pope's verses to a young lady on her 
leaving the town after the coronation ;^ and to make 
the change appear still more gloomy, all this I quitted 
in November, travelled five days through miserable 
roads, and in a few daj^s after our arrival at the Farm'^ 
(the name of the house we went to), were blocked up 
from all intercourse with our neighbours, by as severe a 

' Epistle V. addressed to Miss Martha Blount, and dated 1715. 
2 Buckland, near Camj^en, Gloucestershire. " The Farm " was a fictitioiu 


frost as was ever known in England, which prevented 
company from coming to us, or our going abroad. At 
that time I thought it a loss, though my father's excel- 
lent temper, great cheerfulness, and uncommon good 
humour made him exert himself for our entertainment 
at home ; and as I loved him excessively, and admired 
everything he said and did, I should soon have found 
consolation from his engaging manners, but the de- 
jectedness of my mother's spirits, occasioned by the 
disappointments my father had met with in his fortune, 
and the not being able to give her children all the ad- 
vantages in their education she wished to do, made her 
unable to support herself, and often affected her to so 
great a degree, as to prejudice her health : this hurt my 
father, and I felt it on a double account. 

Three months passed in this place, without any variety 
of company or employments. I was kept to my stated 
hours for practising music, reading, writing and French, 
and after that I was expected to sit down to work. My 
father generally read to us ; in the evening I was called 
upon to make up a party at whist with my father and 
mother and the minister of the parish.^ Fortunately this 
man was of a most particular character, an original, and 

' Mr. Tucker. The Rev. Tretheway Tooker was instituted to the Rectory 
of Buckland in 1714, by the guardians of Thomas Thynne, Esq. He was suc- 
ceeded in 1746 by the Rev. John Martin. There are portraits of the Rev. John 
Martin, of Buckland, and of his wife, at a house in Wellersey. The old rectory 
was built by WiUiam Grafton, the rector, who was instituted by the Abbot of 
Gloucester in 1515. There is an engraving of it in Lyson's Gloucestershire 
Antiquities, and also one of the three compartments of painted glass in the 
east window of the Church, representing three of the Roman Sacraments. 
There is some painted glass also in the rectory hall, and the rebus of Wm. 
<^irafton, "a graft issuing out of a tun." — Letkr from Sir Thomas PJnlij^j a, 
Bart., of Middle Hill, near Broadway, Worcestershire. 18G0. 


entertained us extremely with his extravagant notions. 
He never appeared to so little advantage as in the pulpit, 
and as companion a grazier's coat would have hecome 
him hetter than the clergyman's habit : he had a sort 
of droll wit and repartee that was diverting, but would 
have been more so, had it not been somewhat out of 
character and unbecoming the dignity of his profession, 
which though not inconsistent with cheerfulness and 
innocent mirth (but rather embellished by it), loses its 
polish if sullied with the least buffoonery. He said he 
had a Familiar that attended him, that he often appeared 
to him at home and abroad ,• warned him against danger, 
and advised him how to conduct himself in all exigencies. 
As much as I remember of Tranio's conduct, I think it 
did not do much honour to his Familiar. 

This was our chief entertainment till Roberto, a young 
gentleman, came into the neighbourhood, who was driven 
tos helter there by some hot-headed, misguided zealots.^ 
Their chief betrayed them, and Roberto was obliged to 
seek for refuge at Tranio's, who had formerly been a 
great friend of his father's. He was twenty-two, tall, 
handsome, lively and good-humored : he did not want 
for sense, his understanding not much improved, his 
education that of a country squire, his goodnature and 
desire of obliging made up for a want of acquired 
politeness, and prevented his doing anything rude and 
impertinent. He was soon introduced into our family. 
The first Sunday after he came he met us all at church, 
and my father asked him to eat beef and pudding with 
his landlord : he came the next day — he came again. He 
pleased my father extremely, they grew so fond of each 

' Sir Wm. Windham at their head. 


other that by degrees " The Farm " was his home, 
and my mother was very glad to encourage his visits, 
as she found they gave my father so much pleasure. 
The winter, or rather spring, passed on tolerably well, 
the days brightened and lengthened, and we had 
compliments and visits from all our neighbours. In 
March Eoberto left us to return home, all things, 
being quiet in the country at that time, but he pro- 
mised my father he would come and make him a visit > 
the latter end of the year. J 

I took great delight in a closet I had, which was fur- 
nished with little drawings and cut paper of my own 
doing ; I had a desk and shelves for my books. — . 

About this time I contracted a friendship with Sappho,^ ' 
a clergyman's daughter in tlie neighbourhood, a girl of 
my own age. She had an uncommon genius and intrepid 
spirit, which though really innocent, alarmed my father, 
and made him uneasy at my great attachment to her. 
He loved gentleness and reserve in the behaviour of 
women, and could not bear anything that had the 
appearance of being too free and masculine ; but as I 
was convinced of her innocence, I saw no fault in Miss 
Kirkham. She entertained me with her wit, and she 
flattered me. with her approbation, but by the improve- 

^ Sarali, daugliter of the Rev. Lionel Kirkham, was born in 1699; she 
married the Rev. John Capon in 1725. In the register-book of the parish of 
Stanton, Gloucestershire, in which her birth, baptism, and marriage, and the 
birth and baptism of her five children, and the death of some of them, are entered, 
the name is invariably spelt Capon, but in the entry of her burial, Feb. 24, 1764, 
she is called " Sarah, widow of John CJiapone.'" It is probable that the family 
was originally French, that it was once Chapon, but was corrupted into Capon, 
and that the h was restored by the above Sarah Capon, with the addition of an 
e, which in those days seemed to be used at pleasure, and added or left out at 
the end of names bv the owners themselves at ditferent periods of their lives. 


ments she has since made, I see she was not, at my first 
acquaintance, the perfect creature I thought her then. 
We wrote to one another every day, and met in the fields 
between our fathers' houses as often as we had an 
opportunity, thought that day tedious that we did not 
meet, and had many stolen interviews. Her extraordinary 
understanding, lively imagination and humane dispo- 
sition, which soon became conspicuous, at last reconciled 
ray father to her, and he never after debarred me the 
pleasure of seeing her, when it was convenient we should 
meet. My sister was at this time a plaything to us, 
and often offended at our whispers and mysterious talk. 
'Tis time to break ofif, my friend, adieu. 

Explanations by Mrs. Delany on this Letter. 

Queen Ann had set me down for maid of honour with her own 
hand, and given her promise to my father. 

The Play. The Lancashire Witches. 

The Opera. Hydaspes, in which NicoUni fights with a Hon — 
remarkable equally for his very fine voice and very fine action. 

I also saw Powell's famous puppet show, in which Punch fought 
with a pig in burlesque, in imitation of Nicolini's battle with the 
lion. My Lord Bolingbroke was of the party, and made me sit 
upon his lap to see it The rest of the company were my father, 
my uncle Granville,^ Sir John Stanley, Vice- Chamberlain Cooke, 
Mr. W. Collier, my mother and Lady Stanley, and Mrs. Betty 

Among my young companions was my Lord Clarendon's 

1 Probably Sir Bevil Granville, eldest brother of Lord Lansdown. Ho was 
governor of Barbadoes, and died in the year 1716. 


daughter, Lady Catherine Hyde/ afterwards Duchess of Queens- 

The first day's journey to the Farm was only Uxbridge, though 
we travelled in a coach and six. 

The minister of the parish was Mr. Tucker. 

Roberto, Mr. Twyford. 

Sappho, Mrs. Chapone, mother-in-law to the author of Letters 
on the Improvement of the Mmd. 

The Farm ^ is near Broadway, in Gloucestershire. 

The Vale of Evesham. 

Sir WilHam Windham, who had gained over a great many 
young men in his neighbourhood to be of his party in favour of 
the Pretender, appointed a day to meet in order to consult how 
they should pursue their scheme. Accordingly they assembled 
(I think the number was about thirty) full of youthful fire, to 
proceed on this expedition, when an express came from Sir Wm- 
Windham to inform them that he had surrendered his person 
to the government, and begged they would consider their own 
safety ; upon which, after many imprecations, urged by their 
resentment for what they called his treachery, they dispersed 
several ways to their particular friends. 



As much as the vanity of my heart suffered by leaving 
the court, assembly, play, &c., the country' grew pleasant 
to me as soon as the weather permitted me to consider 
its beauties. The Farm is a low house, with very good, 
convenient room in it, the outside entirely covered with 

' Daughter of Henr}% Earl of Clarendon and Koch ester. She married, 

March 10th, 1720, Charles, 3rd Duke of Queensbury and 2nd Duke of Dover. 

Her two sons, who were successively Earls of Drumlaurig, lived to manhood, 

I'Ut died before their parents. The Duchess died in 1777 — the Duke in 1778. 


VOL. I. C 


laurel, the inside neat furnished with home spun stuff, 
adorned with fine China and prints. The front of the 
house faces the finest vale in England, the Yale of Evesham, 
of which there is a very advantageous view from every 
window : the back part of the house is shaded by a very 
high hill which rises gradually ; between lies tlie garden, 
a small spot of ground, but well stocked with fruit and 
flowers. Nothing could be more fragrant and rural : the 
sheep and cows came bleating and lowing to the pales 
of the garden. At some distance on the left hand was 
a rookery ; on the right a little clear brook run winding 
through a copse of young elms (the resort of many 
warbling birds), and fell with a cascade into the garden, 
completing the concert. In the midst of that copse 
was an arbour with a bench, which I often visited, and 
I think it was impossible not to be pleased with so 
many natural beauties and delights as I there beheld and 
enjoyed around me. 

But this innocent, uniform, still life was not to last. 
At the end of the year, Eoberto returned according to 
his promise ; he was invited to the Farm, and accepted 
very readily the invitation. I found his behaviour not at 
all the same as it used to be ; he was often silent and 
thoughtful. When I came down in a morning to practise 
my harpsichord, as was my constant custom till the family 
met at breakfast, which was about nine, he was always 
in the room, and would place himself by me whilst I 
played. Whenever I went to my favourite bench, if I 
did not find him there, he followed me immediately. 
This I observed, but was so young and innocent as to 
imagine it without design. One day he took me by the 
hand, as I was coming down stairs, and said "he almost 


wished lie had never known the family." I interpreted 
that very naturally — he had lived some time with us 
very agreeably, and was then obliged to return home 
to a cross father and more perverse mother, who valued 
herself upon being a great fortune, and living miserably 
to enrich her family. Roberto was the youngest of twenty 
children, and had only five sisters living. 

After he had been a month with us my mother took 
notice of his being more particular in his behaviour to- 
wards me ; even my little sister Anna made several obser- 
vations that often made Roberto blush (which he was as 
apt to do as I was), and made me angry at her pertness. 
My mother cautioned me not to leave my room in a morn- 
ing till she sent for me down, and never permitted me to 
walk without a servant, when she or my father could not I . 
go with me. Roberto I believe designed speaking to me 
first, in which being disappointed, he applied to my 
father, and made proposals of marriage. He told him 
I had no fortune, and it was very probable, for this 
reason, his friends would not approve of his choice ; if 
they did he had so high an opinion of him, that he should 
be well pleased with his alliance ; upon which Roberto 
returned home to try what he could do with his friends, 
but after some months' trial to get his parents to con- i 
sent, he wrote my father word they were inexorable. 
This he apprehended before he went, and pressed me 
very much to marry him privately, but I was ofiended 
at the proposal, and desired him, if he could not gain 
the consent he wished to have, to think no more of me.^ 
I little thought then how fatal this disappointment 
would prove to him. I was very easy when the affair 
was over, or rather glad of it. From that time till the ^ 

c 2 ^ 


September following notliing remarkable happened in 
our family or in the neighbourhood worth troubling 
my dear friend with an account of I release you for 
a few posts, and then will proceed in my relation. I 
cannot give you a stronger proof of how entirely I am 
devoted to you. 



I told you, ray dear Maria, in my last letter that till 
the September after Roberto left us nothing new hap- 
pened. I had then an invitation from my uncle, 
Alcander,^ and my aunt Laura^ to go with them to 
the Bath, and afterwards to spend the winter at 
their country seat, not very distant from it. They had 
been confined nearly two years, for reasons of State, 
in the Tower,^ and had not been long at liberty. The 
invitation was a very agreeable one to me, and thought 
too advantageous by my father and mother to be re- 
fused. My father accompanied me himself, and delivered 
me into Lord Lansdown's hands, who received me with 
that grace and fondness so peculiar to his politeness and 

' George Oranville, Lord Lansdovm. 

2 *' Laura,^' Lady Lansdoivn. She was previously Lady Mary Villiers, 
daughter of the Earl of Jersey, and widow of Thos. Thynne, Esq., who was 
the son of Henry Fredericlc Thynne, one of the Clerks of the Privy Counci', 
and grandson of Sir Henry Frederick Thynne, of Kempsford, Bart. Thomas 
Thynne, Esq., died in the year 1710, and his only child Thomas Thynne, 
became 2nd Viscount Weymouth in 1714, on the death of his great uncle 
Thomas, 1st Viscount Weymouth, eldest brother of Henry Frederick I'hynne, 
Clerk of the Privy Council. 

^ February 8th. — The Lord Lansdown, having received his pardon, was re- 
leased from his imprisonment in the Tower. — Historical Register, for 1717. 


good-nature. No man had more the art of winning 
the affections where he wished to oblige. Laura and 
Superba ^ (a maiden sister of Alcander's, who had always 
hved with him) showed me great kindness. Laura was 
at that time about twenty-seven years of age, very hand- 
some, and had behaved herself very well. I soon grew 
fond of her, and was delighted with every mark of her 
favour, though the pleasure I received from my uncle's 
distinction of me far exceeded it. I was proud of his 
approbation, and glad of every opportunity of conversing 
with liim, and ingratiating myself with him. There was 
at that time a great deal of company in the house, and 
the design of going to the Bath was put off till the 
spring : we danced every night, and had a very good 
band of music in the house. Lord Lansdowne was 
magnificent in his nature, and valued no expense that 
would gratify it, which in the end hurt him and his 
family extremely. 

I now thought my present state and future prospects 
as happy as this world could make them. How easily is our 
youth imposed upon by the gaudy show of pleasures ! I 
soon had reason to make that reflection. My father had 
thoughts of returning home, well pleased at my being in 
such favour, but discontented with my uncle's treatment 
of himself, which was not what he expected. He told 
him that now he should lessen liis income, supposing 
that by this time he was fallen into a method of living 
in the country, and did not want so large an income as 
at first setting out. Alcander reminded him at the 
same time how kind he was to his children. These were 

Superba. Mrs. Elizabeth Granvitte, 


truths, but harsh to a generous and grateful mind, such 
as my father's was. He wanted no hints of the obhga- 
tions he lay under to his brother, and the day before he 
left Lord Lansdown's house, he opened his heart to me, 
and talked on the subject in so moving a way, that it 
made a deep impression on my mind, and often after he 
was gone I used to walk in the gallerj'- where we had 
our last conversation, and recollect it with grief of heart. 
I wished that I had returned with him, that I might by 
my duty and tender affection show him that I preferred 
his house and company to all the flattering views that 
were laid before me ; but it was his pleasure I should stay. 
My two aunts soon grew jealous of the great favour 
shown me by my uncle, and would never suffer me to spend 
an hour with him alone, which mortified me extremely ; for 
though I did not pretend to much penetration or any judg- 
ment, I soon found their conversation much less in- 
structive, as well as less entertaining than his. I had been 
brought up to love reading ; they never read at all, or, if 
they did, idle books that I was not allowed to read. 
Alcander delighted in making me read to him, which I 
did every day, till the ladies grew angry at my being so 
much with my uncle. 
\ About this time there came on a visit to Alcander an 

old friend and countryman of his, Gromio.^ When 
he arrived we were at dinner : he had travelled on horse- 
back, the day excessively rainy : he sent in his name, upon 
which Alcander rose from table overjoyed at his arrival, 
and insisted on his coming in to dinner. I expected to 
have seen somebody with the appearance of a gentleman, 

^ Alexander Fendarves, Es^., of Boscrmv, Cornwall. 


when the poor, old, dripping almost drowned Gromio was 
brought into the room, like Hob out of the well, his wig, 
his coat, his dirty boots, his large un wieldly person, andl 
his crimson countenance were all subjects of great mirth 
and observation to me. I diverted myself at his expense 
several daj^s, and was well assisted by a young gentle- 
man,^ brother to Laura ; who had wit and malice. Gromio/j}^ 
soon changed his first design of going away the next day, '^ 
the occasion of his coming was {it was stated) a quarrel 
he had with a gentleman^ who had married his niece ; 
he offered to settle on him his whole estate, provided he 
would after his death, take his name. Bassanio (his 
nephew's name) proud of his family, refused to comply 
with that part, upon which Gromio determined to dis- 
pose of his estate, and settle quietly for the rest of 
his life in the country. In order to execute this design, 
he was going to London, and passing near Alcander's 
heard that the family were in the country, which deter- 
mined him to make his journey one day longer by calling 
there. He talked of going every day, but still stayed, ^^J/ 
and I (to my great sorrow) was after some time convinced 
I was the cause of this delay ; his behaviour was too 
remarkable for me not to obser\^e it, and I could easily 
perceive I was the only person in the family that did 
not approve of it. Gromio was then near sixty, and I { 
seventeen years of age. You may readily believe I was 

^ The Hon. Henry Villiers, second and youngest son of Edward, 1st Earl 
of Jersey. He died in 1743. 

2 Francis Basset, of Tehidy, Esq., married as liis second wife Mary, daughter 
and heiress of the Eev. John Pendarves, rector of Dunsteigntou, Devonshire. 
She was also eventually the heiress of her father's elder brother, Alexander 
Pendarves, of Roscrow. The eldest son of Francis her second son, was the 1st 
Lord de Dunstanville. 


not pleased with what I suspected. I formed an in- 
vincible aversion towards him, and everything he said 
or did by way of obliging me, increased that aversion. 
I thought him ugly and disagreeable ; he was fat, much 

' afflicted with gout, and often sat in a sullen mood, 
which I concluded was from the gloominess of his temper. 
I knew that of all men living, my uncle had the greatest 
oninion of, and esteem for him, and I dreaded his making 
a proposal of marriage, as I knew it would be accepted. 
In order to prevent it, I did not in the least disguise my 
great dislike to him ; I behaved myself not only with in- 
difference but rudeness ; when I dressed, I considered 
what would become me least ; if he came into the room 
when I was alone, I instantly left it, and took care to 
let him see I quitted it because he came there. I was 
often chid by my two wise aunts for this behaviour : I 
told them plainly he was odious to me, in hopes they 
would have had good-nature enough to have prevented 
what I foresaw ; but Laura called me childish, ignorant, 
and silly, and that if I did not know what was for my 
own interest, my friends must judge for me. I passed 
two months with dreadful apprehensions, apprehensions 
it too well grounded. I assure you the recollection of this 
part of my life makes me tremble at this day. I must 

-relieve my spirits by concluding this letter : adieu. 

The above letter suggests various reflections. The cause of the 
quarrel between Mr. Pendarves and his nephew Mr. Basset (both 
of very ancient Cornish families) will remind the reader of feuds 
between their Celtic kinsmen in Wales. There is, however, ap- 
parent contradiction in Mr. Pendarves' intention of selling his 
estates (and yet settling in the country), to punish his nephew 
for refusing to take his name after his death, as the punishment 
of such an act would appear to fall upon himself for life ; — but it 


may easily be supposed that if any man was sufficiently angry 
with another as to lose his powers of reason so far as to intend to 
sell the estates of his ancestors in the hope of annoying that 
person, that he would be quite capable of still further punishing 
himself, during the remainder of his life, by living in the country, 
after he had, by his own act, deprived himself of his principal 
interests there, and of his natural home ; and no doubt, this is 
the real explanation of those intentions. It is, however, more than 
probable that they were partially abandoned before he arrived at 
Longleat, and that it was not then that Lord Lansdown heard 
of tbem for the first time ; and it may reasonably be inferred that 
his old political ally had consulted him on the alternative of 
marrying, requested his advice as to an alliance, and was invited 
to Longleat on his way to London, for the express purpose of 
seeing the Mary Granville who was destined by Lord Lansdown 
for the wife of Mr. Pendarves, although she herself never knew 
of such intentions. 



From Mary Granville's Marriage with Alexander Pex- 
j)ARVES, Esq., of Eoscrow, to his Death. 




Gromio was sometime debating with liimself whether he 
should declare his sentiments of me or not, conscious of 
the great disparity of years, and often staggered (as he 
told me afterwards) by my behaviour; but at last a 
violent fit of jealousy, raised by young Vilario's^ gal- 
lantry towards me (which I only took for very unde- 
signing merriment), made him resolve to address himself 
to Alcander, and make such proposals as he thought 
might gain his consent. Lord Lansdown, rejoiced at an 
opportunity of securing to his interest by such an 
alliance, one of some consequence in his country, whose 
services he at that time wanted, readily embraced the 
offer and engaged for my compliance; he might have 
said obedience, for I was not entreated, but commanded. 
One night, at one of our concerts, all the company (I 
suppose by agreement) went into the room where the 
music was performed, which was next to the drawing- 

Mr. Villkrs, second sou of Edward, 1st Earl of Jersey, 


room. I got up to follow them, but my uncle called 
me back, and desired 1 would bear him company, for he 
was lame and could not walk into the next room. My 
spirits foreboded what he was about to say, and when he 
bid me shut the door, I turned as pale as death; he 
took me by the hand, and after a very pathetic speech 
of his love and care of me, and of my father's unhappy 
circumstances, my own want of fortune, and the little 
prospect I had of being happy if I disobliged those 
friends that were desirous of serving me, he told me of 
Gromio's passion for me, and his offer of settling his 
whole estate on me ; he then, with great art and elo- 
quence, told me all his good qualities and vast merit, 
and how despicable I should be if I could refuse him 
because he was not young and handsome ; and tliat if I 
did refuse him he should conclude my inclinations were 
engaged to Eoberto, a name I had not heard or thought 
of for above half a year — a name that had never before 
given me much disturbance, though now it added to my 

How can I describe to you, my dear friend, the cruel 
agitation of my mind ! Whilst my uncle talked to me, 
I did not once interrupt him ; surprise, tender concern 
for my father, a consciousness of my own Httle merit, and 
the great abhorrence I had to Gromio, raised such a 
confusion of thoughts in my mind, that it deprived me 
of the power of utterance, and after some moments' 
silence I burst into tears. Alcander grew warm upon 
this mark of my distress, and said, " I see. Madam, you 
are not to be gained by merit ; and if Roberto is the 
obstacle to my friend's happiness, and he ever dares to 
come to this house, I will have him dragged through 


the liorse-pond." Sucli an expression from a man of my 
uncle's politeness, made me tremble, for it plainly- 
showed me how resolute and determined he was, and 
how vain it would be for me to urge any reasons against 
his resolution. With great difficulty I said I was so 
sensible of his goodness to me, and of the gratitude I 
owed him, that I would submit to his commands, but 
must beg leave at that time to retire, and that he w^ould 
excuse my appearing any more that evening. He gave 
me my liberty, and by a back way I avoided the com- 
pany and went to my own apartment, locked myself up 
in my closet, where I wept bitterly for two hours. 
Several messengers came to the door to call me, and at 
last my uncle sent me word he absolutely insisted on my 
coming to supper : nothing could be at that time more 
vexatious to me, but I proposed one consolation, which 
was, that Gromio and the rest of the family should see 
how unacceptable the proposal that had been made to 
me that afternoon was. 

I shall not disguise my thoughts, or soften an- 
part of my behaviour, which I fear was not altogether 
j justifiable, and which, though your judgment may con- 
demn, your indulgence and partiality I hope will find 
some excuse for. I thought that if I could convince 
Gromio of the great dislike I had to him, that he 
would not persist, but I was disappointed in that view. 
I had nobody to advise with ; every one of the family 
had persuaded themselves that this would be an ad- 
vantageous match for me — no one considered the senti- 
ments of my heart; to be settled in the world, and 
ease my friends of an expense and care, they urged that 
it was my duty to submit, and that I ought to sacrifice 


ever}4ihing to that one point. I acted as they wished 
me to do, and for fear of their reproaches, made myself 
miserable : my chief motive, I may say, was the fear of 
my father and mother suffering if I disobliged Alcander. 
I then recollected the conversation I had with my father 
in the gallery the day before he left us. I considered 
my being provided for would be a great satisfaction and 
reUef to hira, and might be a means of establishing a 
good understanding between the brothers ; that if I 
showed the least reluctance, my father and mother 
would never consent to the match, and that would 
inevitably expose them, as well as myself, to Alcander 's 
resentment. These considerations gave me courage, 
and kept up my resolution. 

As soon as I had given my consent, my uncle sent 
a special messenger to the Farm, to ask the consent 
of my father and mother, and to invite them to the 
wedding. As Alcander's heart was set upon making 
this match, you may easily believe he represented it 
to them in the fairest light ; they wished for nothing 
more than to see me well married, and hoping I might 
be so now, came readily into this proposal. I had 
now nothing to do but to submit to my unhappy 
fortune, and to endeavour to reconcile myself to it. I 
pass over the courtship, it was awkward to Gromio 
(who saw too well my unsurmountable dislike), and too 
painful to me to raise any entertainment to you from 
the relation. I was married with great pomp. Never 
was woe drest out in gayer colours, and when I was 
led to the altar, I wished from my soul I had been 
led, as Iphigenia was, to be sacrificed. I was sacrificed. 
I lost, not life indeed, but I lost all that makes life 


desirable — -joy and peace of mind ; but altbougli it 
was plain to all the witnesses to this sad scene, how 
much I suflPered in it, no one showed any sensibility of 
it but my father and mother, the only persons from 
whom I wished to hide my distress : they persuaded 
themselves, however, that my great trouble arose 
from the thought of leaving so many friends, and not 
from any dislike I had to Gromio, which gave me 
r a happy opportunity of indulging my opprest heart. 
I staid about two months at Alcander's after I was 
married, and Gromio shewed me all the respect and 
tenderness he was capable of, and I returned it with, 
all the complacency I was mistress of, and had he 
known how much it cost me, he must have thought 
himself obliged by my behaviour. 

An accident happened one day at table that discon- 
certed me a good deal. A gentleman who came to 
dinner said he had heard a very melancholy story of a 
neighbour of his, for whom he had a great regard, and 
after giving him a very extraordinary character, said, 
" Poor Boberto ! he is struck with a dead palsy." I 
blushed excessively, and felt a grateful compassion for a 
man who had always expressed a very particular regard 
for me. I could not help thinking I might perhaps 
have been the unfortunate cause of his misfortune, as in 
truth I was, though I did not know that till some years 
after his death. I was then told by a lady, a great 
friend of his, to whom he used to open his mind, that 
his mother's cruel treatment of him, and absolute refusal 
of her consent for his marrying me, affected him so 
deeply, as to throw him into the palsy, he lost the use 
of his speech, though not of his senses, and when he 


strove to speak, he could not utter above a word or two, 
but he used to write perpetually, and I was the only 
subject of his pen. He lived in this wretched state 
about a year after I was married. When he was dead 
they found under his pillow a piece of cut paper, which 
he had stolen out of my closet at the Farm. I have 
made this digression too long already, or I could relate 
more particulars about Eoberto^ that were very extraor- 
dinary. It was very lucky for me that Gromio had 
never heard of such a person, for, as he observed my 
looks very narrowly, he might have been alarmed at the 
alteration he might have then seen in me ; but as it was 
it only passed for common compassion upon hearing a 
melancholy story. 

The day was come when I was to leave all I loved | 
and valued, to go to a remote country, with a man I 
looked upon as my tyrant — my jailor ; one that I was 
determined to obey and oblige, but found it impossible 
. to love. It was a happiness to me that my sister at / 
that time was too young to observe my distress. Had 
she been then to me what she is now, how would my 
misery have been doubled, by the grief it would have 
been to her ! but she was then a child, and I parted 
with her unwillingly, but not more grieved than for a 
pretty lively companion, who had often made my sad 
heart cheerful with her wit and sprightly humour. My 

^ " Roberto^ Mr. Tw^ford might have been brother to the ladies who are 
buried in Kilmersdon church, under the names of Anne and Sarah Twvford 
daughters of James Twvford, Esq., by Sarah, daughter and co-heiress of 
Gabriel Goodman, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Kilmersdon. Mr. Joliffe, of 
Aramerdoun Park, Somersetshire, is now the representative of this family. 
The Editor has not been able to discover " Roberto's " tomb. 


eldest brother was the only person allowed to go with 
me into the country, but he was too young and inex- 
perienced in the ways of the world for me to advise with 
upon any occasion, though he had a thoughtfulness and 
discretion beyond his years, and we loved each other with 
great tenderness. 

Before I take this long journey I must rest. I am 
sure it is time, my dearest Maria, to relieve you : and 
your curiosity must be strong, if you can bear with 
patience this long narration. 

Mary Granville's unaffected expression of apprehension tKat 
the Duchess of Portland would blame her for not being able to 
adopt the views and sentiments of Lord and Lady Lansdown on 
this occasion, and the evidence there is that her father and 
mother (for whom she ever expresses so much affection) approved 
of her marrying Mr. Pendarves, and were not at all disturbed by 
their disparity of years or the complete absence of congeniality 
in their dispositions, tastes, or habits, not appearing to have even 
a suspicion that her tears flowed from any other cause than 
parting from her family, is a very striking illustration of the com- 
plete disregard shown in marriage at that period to everytliin*^ 
but the worldly settlement in life. Even Lady Stanley, though 
represented as so virtuous and so amiable, evinces in the followino- 
fragment of a letter of congratulation to her niece, written to 
Mrs. Pendarves in 1717, that she considered "riches, honours, 
and length of years," properly to represent "happiness." 

Too stupid to write letters, that is indeed the reason 
that I have not writ to anybody since my last letter 
to my brother Lansdown. I put myself into your hands 
to make my excuses, I dare say you can make them 
acceptable. I have a new acquaintance to talk you over 
with, that is Mrs. (Leviston ?) I dare say you will be 


happy in her acquaintance ; she is a very good sort of 
woman, and one I hope to improve on acquaintance with 
myself. You see I like to talk with you, by the length 
of this letter, but must end as I began, wishing you and 
]VIi\ Pendarves all happiness together, riches^ honour, 1 
and length of days is the prayer of dear niece, 

Your most humble servant, 
Anne Stanley. 

The name of the lady praised by Lady Stanley as a "good 
sort of woman " can only be guessed, but it is probably intended 
for Livingstone (often spelt without b. g or an e), in which case 
it must have been the sister of Mr. Pendarves, who married a 
Scotchman. Lady Stanley might have considered it not only 
courteous but politic to intimate, that she considered the ac- 
quaintance of so near a relation of the l)ridegroom would be 
an acquisition to herself. This opinion is further borne out by 
the evidence of this lady's being personally unknown to Mary 
Granville, and yet conversing about her with Lady Stanley. 



Must I proceed ? Well, then, I will carry 3^ou a long way 
off. I will not hurt your tender heart, by giving you a 
particular account of my taking leave ; under the circum- 
stances I was, you \vill easily imagine how terrible it 
must have been to me. We were about a fortnight on 
the road, for Gromio being desirous of introducing me to 
all his friends, we went to all that were in our way, in- 
stead of going to an inn, which was very disagreeable to 

VOL. I. D 


me, who would much rather have hid myself in a cave, 
than have been exposed to the observation of any body. 
I met with great civility and flattery from all, but received 
no satisfaction from anything but a few stolen retired 
moments, to vent my grieved heart by my tears, which 
I took great care should not be seen by Gromio, for I 
wished to deceive him in that particular, and believe I 
succeeded. As my nature was very sincere, this dissimu- 
lation was painful to me, but I think I may venture to 
afiirm that I never deceived him in anything else. 

You say I have omitted giving you his character, 'tis 
true 1 have not been very particular in it. I fear I am 
not good at drawing characters, and that my prejudice is 
too strong to allow my doing justice. His age I have 
already told you ; as to his person he was excessively fat, 
of a brown complexion, negligent in his dress, and took 
\ a vast quantity of snuff*, which gave him a dirty look : 
his eyes were black, small, lively and sensible ; he had 
an honest countenance, but altogether a person rather 
disgusting than engaging. He was good-natured and 
friendly, but so strong a parti/ man, that he made him- 
self many enemies, and was at one time involved in such 
difficulties, that it was with great good luck he escaped 
being discovered.^ He was very sober for two years after 

' It must be borne in mind that there existed at that period a strong party 
in favour of the exiled Stuarts among the descendants of those who liad 
fought for King Charles I., and assisted in effecting the restoration of King 
Charles II., and that Cornwall had ever been the stronghold of his adherents, and 
was distinguished by the following especial letter from Charles II. 

King Charles' Letter to the Inhabitants of Cornwall. 
"C. R. 

•' To the inhabitants of the county of Cornwall. 

" We are so highly sensible of the merit of our county of Cornwall, and ol 
their great zeal for the defence of our person and the just rights of our crown 


we married, but then he fell in with a set of old acquaint- ; 
ance, a society famed for excess in wine, and to his ruin 
and my misery was hardly ever sober. This course of 
life soured his temper, which was naturally good, and the 
days he did not drink were spent in a gloomy sullen way, 
which was infinitely worse to me than his drinking ; for I 
did not know how to please or entertain him, and yet no 
one ever heard him say a snappish or cross thing to me.^ 

I have run a greater length from the course of my 
story than I designed, but as you desired Gromio's cha- 
racter and behaviour towards me, I thought it necessary 
to tell you this now. 

\\nien we arrived at Avemo,' the name of his seat, 

in a time when not only no rew'ard appeared, but great probable dangers were 
threatened to obedience and loyalty, of their great and eminent courage and 
patience, in their indefatigable prosecution of their great work against so 
potent an enemy, backed with so strong, rich, and populous cities, and so 
plentifully furnished and supplied with men, arms, money, ammunition, and 
provisions of all kinds, and of the wonderful suc<;ess with which it pleased 
Almighty God (though with the loss of some eminent persons, who shall 
never be forgotten by us,) to reward their loyalty and patience by many 
strange victories over their and our enemies, in despight of all human pro- 
bability, and all imaginable disadvantages, that as we cannot be forgetful 
of so great desert, so we cannot but desire to publish it to all the world, 
and i^erpetuate to all time the memory of their merits and of our accept- 
ance of the same, and to that end we do hereby render our royal thanks 
to that our county in the most public and lasting manner we can devise, com- 
manding copies hereof to be printed and published, and one of them to be read 
in every church and chapel therein, and to be kept for ever as a record in the 
same, that as long as the history of these times and of this nation shall 
continue, the memory of how much that county hath merited from us and 
our crown, may be derived with it to posterity. (This letter is still on the 
walls of Truro church, in Cornwall.) 

" Given at our camp at Sudoly Castle, the 10th of September, 1643." 
1 The desire evident in the above passage to give Mr. Pendarves credit for 
any possible merit does not however imply that he never was cross or snappish 
when they were alone, but that he constrained himseli" sufficiently to prevent 
the appearance of any disrespect in company. 
* Moscrow. 

D 2 


I was indeed shocked. The castle is guarded with higl 
walls that entirely hide it from your view. When thi 
gate of the court was opened and we walked in, tho 
front of the castle^ terrified me. It is built of ugly coarse 
stone, old and mossy, and propt with two great stone 
buttresses, and so it had been for threescore years. E 
was led into an old hall that had scarce any light belong- 
ing to it ; on the left hand of which was a parlour, the 
floor of which was rotten in places, and part of the ceil- 
ing broken down ; and the windows were placed so high 
that my head did not come near the bottom of them. 

Here my courage forsook me at once, and I fell into a 
violent passion of crying, and was forced to sit down some 
minutes to recover myself My behaviour to be sure shocked 
Gromio, and I was sorry T had not a greater command 
of myself ; but my prison appeared so dismal, I could not 
bear the surprise, not expecting to see so ruinous a 
place. The rest of the house was answerable to what I 
have described. It had not been inhabited for above thirty 

* The editor visited Roscrow in August, 1856, and convinced herself, ( ii 
contradiction to all she had heard,) that the present modern-looking block of 
building is the original kernel of the old granite castellated mansion hero 
described ; but that this remnant has been modernized after being deprived of 
its quadrangle, its gateway, and court-yard, though the walls, the chimneys, 
and even two or three rooms are the same ; as also a small staircase which 
leads to the bedrooms, and which formerly must have been one of many : 
one or two mantelpieces and ceilings remain unchanged in lower rooms which 
witnessed the struggle of Mary Granville to be resigned and cheerful. The 
view from a closet attached to one of the existing bedrooms, is precisely that 
described by herself, and where probably many an hour was spent in beguiling 
her thoughts by early efforts in those arts of drawing, embroidery, and 
cutting out in paper, for which she was afterwards so celebrated. There are 
still evidences in modern foundations, of Roscrow having been a very con- 
siderable pile of building, though a passing traveller might at a distance now 
take it for a square modern shooting box. The view is magnificent, and the 
remains of the old walls very interesting. 


years, but Gromio gave me the liberty of fitting it up con- 
veniently to my own fancy, which helped to amuse me 
greatly. The situation made some amends. I never saw 
so beautiful a spot ; it was placed on the side of a hill 
(which fell gently from the front of the house), sur- 
rounded by pleasant meadows, which by an easy descent 
opened a view to one of the finest harbours^ in 
England, generally filled with shipping. The prospect 
was enriched with two towns ^ one considerably large, 
and a castle^ placed on an eminence which at some 
distance looked like an island. The chief town* was a 
peninsula, and situated on a high hill ; it consisted of one 
large street, which crossed the summit of the hill, by 
which advantage every house had a falling garden and 
orchard that belonged to it ; and what is yet more sin- 
gular, a rivulet that ran through each. These gardens 
and orchards entirely covered the hill, so that to every 
eye which beheld it at a distance the whole appeared a 
garden, and in great bloom at its proper season. Indeed 
nothing could be more delightful or beautiful in the 
months of May and June : the whole terminated in an 
unlimited view of the sea. 

It was some time before I could make out any entertain- 
ment to myself by observing these beauties, but to make 
the place as agreeable to my brother as I could, and his 
desire to make it so to me, made us both take notice of 
what was pleasant in the neighbourhood. We often rode 

' Falmouth. 

2 Penrynn and Flushing. 

' Pendennis Castle, which is a beautiful object from the upper windows of 
Eoscrow to this day. See plate. 
* Penryim. 


out together, and found many things (in a country s< 
different to what we had been used to) to amuse us. 
Gromio^ was seldom of our parties : he was often confined 
with the gout, and when he was not, his indolence of 
temper made him prefer his easy chair to his horse. This 
abridged me of some of my pleasures abroad, not that I 
wanted his company, but it obliged me to hasten home 
many a fine evening that I had rather have spent any- 
where than in the castle of Averno. 
<(^ About a month after we had been at home and had 
received the compliments of the chief of our neighbour- 
hood, Grromio proposed that we should make a visit to 

_,JBassanio^ who had married his niece. I made no objec- 
tion, but was rather pleased to leave my own house for 
some time. Bassanio had been in his youth a man of 
gallantry ; his figure despicable enough, but his wit and 
cheerfulness made amends, though at this time both were 
a good deal impaired by an ill state of health and a very 
dull wife, who with a very inferior understanding to his, 
was the chief agent. He seemed only to act with her per- 
mission, which was most astonishing. We were received at 
first I thought very coolly. Gromio's marrying was a great 
disappointment to Bassanio and Fulvia.^ They expected 
his estate, and were both avaricious. Bassanio liked to 
take wine, but not to excess. When his spirits were a 
little raised, he was very gay and entertaining, and till 

_ then I had not laughed or shown the least sign of mirth. 

r After having spent a fortnight at this place, Gromio grew 

thoughtful, and would often retire to his chamber, and at 

supper and dinner sat gloomy and discontented. When 

1 Mr. rencldives. ^ Mr. Basset of Tehidy. ' Mrs. Basset of Tehitlv. 


I was alone with him, he would sigh and groan as if his 
heart would break. I thought him ill, and asked him 
several times if he was not, to which he always answered 
with great sullenness, " he was well enough." I began 
then to examine my own behaviour to him ; I was sure he 
could resent nothing in that, more than he had reason 
for before, and that I was not so grave, but (in appear- 
ance) happier than at first. After enduring great anx- 
iety of mind for a week, I could not forbear taking 
notice to him of the change I found in his temper ; for 
though he never made himself agreeable to me, it had not 
been for want of kindness and civility in his behaviour ; 
but now he had laid aside both, and I own I was greatly 
perplexed to find out the cause. 'Tis certain that fond- 
ness from a person distasteful to one is tormenting, and 
what can so much hurt a generous heart that can make 
no return for it ; on the other hand, it is very disagreeable 
to be treated with gloomy looks which show an inward 
discontent, and not to be able to account for it. 

At last the mighty distress broke out in these words : 
" Oh ! Aspasia, take care of Bassanio ; he is a cunning 
treacherous man, and has been the ruin of one woman 
already, who was wife to his bosom friend," — and then he 
burst into tears. I was so struck with this caution and his 
behaviour that I could not for some time speak ; at last I 
said, " I am miserable, indeed, if you can be jealous of this 
ugly man ; what am I for the future to expect ?" I was so 
much surprised and vexed that it threw me into an agony 
of tears ; he assured me all the time that he had nothing 
to charge me with ; that my behaviour was just what he 
wished it to be, but he could not help seeing how much 
charmed Bassanio was with everything I said or did, and 


■ he knew him to be a man not to be trusted. By this 
time T was a little recovered, and entreated him to return 
to Averno, but he said " no ;" to convince me he had no 
doubt of my conduct, he would not go before the time 
he had first proposed. I was grieved at this resolution 
and tried to dissuade him, but to no purpose. We stayed 
a week or ten days longer, during which time Bassanio 
exerted himself to entertain us, aud every day proposed 
some new party of pleasure, as riding on the sands in 
search of shells (which I took great delight in) ; or going 
to the Gull Rocks, or fishing. That part of the country 
was very romantic, and afforded variety of entertainments 
of that kind ; but as Gromio was unable to partake of 
these diversions, I avoided them. I was every hour in 
pain — every civil thing Bassanio said to me made me 
unhappy, and I perceived he was more assiduous in 
obliging me than I wished him to be. As he knew the 
world and had a great deal of wit, he was well bred and 
entertaining, and knew how to make compliments with- 
out appearing to flatter. Whenever Gromio was absent 
he would say something to set him in a ridiculous light, 
but so artfully that his dull wife^ was not offended ; but as 
I was upon my guard, I could not help observing his 
design. This I resented, and he soon found that sort of 
^l behaviour would not recommend him to my favour. 
Good night my dear Maria ; 'tis late. You shall soon 
hear again from your affectionate Aspasia.'' 

^ Mrs. Basset "was the niece of Mr. Pendarves, and his heir if he made no 
other disposition of his property. 

2 Aspasia was the name by which Mary Granville was often designated by 
her intimate friends, and was a favourite appellation of the period, where 
beauty and accomplishments were united, without reference to its being inap- 
plicable from other circumstances. 


Mrs. Delany's reminiscences of this period, and their correct- 
ness, are confirmed and enlarged by the following contemporary 
letters addressed to her. 

Lord Lansdowne to Mrs. Pendarves. 

Sheffield House.' May 1st, 1718. 

My Dear Niece, 

I own freely to you that I was touched with so 
much tenderness at parting with you, that I have in- 
dustriously shunned the occasion of renewing it, by 
writing to you. You are therefore to impute my silence 
to the abundance of kindness, and not to the want of it. 
I have the satisfaction to be verily persuaded that Mr. 
Pendarves will omit no opportunity of making you re- 
paration for the friends you have left, by all imaginable 
testimonies of service and affection"; and the greatest 
pleasure I have, is to think that you are happy, and to 
hope 3'ou will continue so. Be pleased to let Mr. Pen- 
darves know that Lord Sunderland^ promises to do him 

' *^ Sheffield Bouse."" John Sheffield, 1st Maniuis of Nonuauby, created 
Duke of Normanby, March 9, and Duke of the county of Buckingham, March 
23rd, 1703, married Catherine, illegitimate daughter of King James IL, by 
Catherine Sedlej', Countess of Dorchester. After rebuilding his residence in 
St. James's Park, he called it Buckingham House. John Sheffield, Duke of 
Buckingham, died February 24, 1720-21, He wrote the following epitaph, and 
ordered it to be engraved on his tomb, but it was not considered orthodox 
and not permitted. It was as follows : — " Pro Recce siepe, pro repubhca semper, I 
dubius non improbus vixi. Incertus nee perturbatus morior. Christum veneror. ^ 
In Deo confide c^terno ac omnipoteute. ENS ENTIUM MISERERE MEI." \^ 
He was made Knight of the Garter by King Charles II., and Lord Chamberlain 
by his successor. He was always in the opposition against King "William, made. 
Privy Seal by Queen Anne, and the only Duke in London who was absent at 
the coronation of King George I. Notwithstanding his dying in a state of 
uncertainty (as he owned in his epitaph), he had appeared very zealous for the 
Church. He died 1720, and was succeeded by his son, Edmund Sheffield, who 
died 1735, when his honours became extinct. 

* Charles, 3rd Earl of Simderland, was at that time Lord President of the 


what service he can, but a memorial must be delivered by- 
some hand to the Lords of the Treasury in form at their 
meeting, and then he need not doubt of a favourable 
answer and dispatch ; which prospect of success is wholly 
owing to your own interest, and application. I intend to 
employ Jack Anstis^ in it if he approves of it. 

Pray accept of all our compliments, and likewise make 
them to the family where you are. 

Believe, me my dear niece, I am, more than can be ex- 
prest, your most affectionate uncle and obedient servant, 


This letter was probably written to Mrs. Pendarves, on he: 
journey from Longleat, after her marriage, when stopping on thi 
road to Roscrow, to pay one of the visits she alludes to in he: 
previous narrative. It clearly indicates that Lord LansdoM'ne was 
not altogether easy or happy at the match be had insisted upon, 
and at the same time he is careful to remind Mr. Pendarves that 
the family interest of his wife is of no small importance to him. 
It is probable that Lord Lansdowne dated his letters " Sheffield 
House " from having been accustomed to that appellation before 
the Duke of Buckingham changed the name to Buckingham 


'John Anstis, a Comishman, represented St. Germains in Parliament, in the 
year 1702. and in 1713 was appointed Garter Kins; at Arms. He was the 
author of several heraldic works. John Anstis, when member for Launces- 
ton, was taken into custody on suspicion of conspiracy with Sir Wm. Windham, 
Sept. 171 5. His son. Dr. John Anstis, in 1725, was appointed Registrar and 
Genealogist of the Order of the Bath. Died.— ./oA/i Amtis, Esq., Garter 
Principal King at Arms, aged near 80. In him were joined the learning of 
Camden, and tlie industry without the inaccuracy of Sir William Duydule. 
He is succeeded in his office by his son, John Avstis, Esq., who had a rever- 
sionary grant for the same. — London Magazine, Maich, 1744. 


Lord Lansdowne to Mrs. Pendarves. 

May 29. 1718. 

My Dearest Niece, 

It is with a great deal of pleasure I congratulate 
your safe arrival at Roscrow, notwithstanding so many 
overturns. I am sorry they happened upon Cornish 
ground, where I wished you might find everything 
favourable to you, and take it as a compliment to myself, 
that you excuse those roads, and lay the fault somewhere 
else. I take that tenderness very kindly in favour of m?/ 
country, and thank you for it. I hear Sir Richard Vy vyan^ 
and his lady were very early with you ; you may re- 
member I assured you, you might depend upon their 
kindness. Whenever you see them pray make them my 
best compliments, and inform yourself if Sir Richard re- 
ceived my letter from Longleat. It will be great satis- 
faction to me to know that everything pleases you where 
you are, and to hear sometimes how you are diverted. 
It is impossible to be more than I am, my dearest niece, 
Your most affectionate uncle and 

Faithful humble servant, 

I refer Bunny^ to be entertained by the ladies. 
All our best services attend my friend Pen. 

' Sir Richard Vyvyan, M.P. for the couuty of Cornwall, in the reign of 
Queen Anne, married Mary, daughter and heiress of Francis Vyvyan, Esq., of 
Coswarth, and had six sons and four daughters. 

2 " Bunny." — Bernard Granville, the elder hrother of Mary Granville, Mrs. 
Pendarves, and nephew and heir to Lord Lansdown. 


Oeorge Lord Lansdoume to Mrs. Pendarves. 

Oct. 21, 1718. 

My Dear Niece, 

Not having heard, by your fair hand, nor any 
other, a great while from Roscrow, we are in some 
pain about the health of the family. But though we 
have not heard directl}^ from you, I have heard lately 
a great deal of you — which, to spare your modesty, 
I must not repeat. You may believe I am very well 
pleased in being entertained with any accounts to your 
advantage, neither indeed can I expect any other. 
Among other things I have been informed that 'tis a 
mark of disaffection to the Government to lead you from 
the church to your coach, and that an unfortunate neigh- 
bour has lately been in trouble upon that account ! 

Why are you so close in your correspondence as to con- 
ceal your amusements from us ? and why must we have 
recourse to strangers to be informed how you divert, and 
are diverted ? Bunny I know is lazy and loves to be 
brief, and I expect nothing from him but " good morrow," 
and " your humble servant ;" otherwise he is an excellent 
person at chit-chat, and if he would be at the pains 
might entertain us with some country tittle-tattle at his 
leisure hours. When you are weary of him you will 
send him to us, but I am loath to take him from you till 
you are willing to part with him, or till I know he is 

I should be glad to hear if Mr. Pendarves had my last 
letter in answer to his. 


Sheffield House salutes you with their best wishes, and 
I subscribe myself to Roskrow Top-a-Toe, 
My dear niece 

Your most affectionate, 

Faithful, humble servant, 


Oeorge Jjord Lansdowne to Mrs. Pendarves, 

Nov. 21. 1718. 

My Dear Niece, 

I have been much too slow in returning you 
thanks for your last letter of October 31st. The excuse 
you make for your paper is very unnecessary : your hand 
will set off the coarsest, and your agreeable turn in 
writing make every thing acceptable and pleasing. It is 
the workmanship, and not the beauty of the stone or 
the marble that gives the value to the figure. 

I find by the account you give me of your neighbours 
and their contentions, that, c'est tout comme ici, and that 
the world is everywhere in a quarrel some way ; but as 
long as we enjoy peace within doors, and domestic 
friendship and affection is uninterrupted, the rest is of 
very little concern, and you may survey from your ascent 
at Eoscrow with pleasure aU the storms below you. I 
hope to hear in your next that my friend Pen is restored 
to the use of his limbs. Most of our country gentlemen 
who came up to town in a hurry are returning back as 
fast.^ Sir Cop.'^ has allowed himself but one week more, 

' King George I. opened Parliament on the 11th of November, 1718, and in 
the debate on the address, the country party strenuously objected against the 
words " entire satisfaction in those measures which His Majesty had already 
taken." The address was carried by 216 votes against loo. 

' Sir Coplestone Warwick Bampfyld, M.P. for the county of Devon from 


and then is to be met by my lady at Hardington. I take 
it for granted your brother is as unwilling to leave you, 
as you are loath to part with him whilst you have no 
other company. I will not be accessory to anything that 
might give either of you a moment's uneasiness, and 
therefore leave you both entirely to your own inclinations. 
The temptations on this side of the world are at present 
very moderate, and I know of nothing that could make 
liim amends at this time for parting with you. Your 
aunts are extremely your humble servants. It is im- 
possible to be more than I am, 

My dear niece, 
Your most aifectionate uncle and faithful servant, 


George Lord Lansdowne to Mrs. Pendarves. 

Jan. 2nd, 1719. 

My Dear Niece, 

I am heartily concerned for your brother's indis- 
position, and must desire you not to fail giving me an 
account constantly how he does. Your own pain which 
you complain of is no small addition to my concern. 'Tis 
every where a very sickly time : you cannot be too carefull 
of yourselves. I hope you will believe me when I assure 
you I have nothing more at my heart than the welfare 
of all my friends at Roskrow. Your riding habit has 
been ready for you some time, and waits for Mr. Tonkin^ 

the 12th year of Queen Anne until his death, which took place in 1727. He 
married Gertrude, daughter of Sir John Carew, and was ancestor of the 
present Lord Poltimore. One of the family seats is Hardington Park, near 

1 Tonkin of Trevaunance in St. Agnes, Cornwall, traced his pedigree to 
the reign of Richard IT. The family became extinct by the death of Thomas 
Tonkin, Esq., about the middle of the last century, third son of the Thomas 
Tonkin who made large collections towards a history of Cornwall. 

OF Mas. DEL ANY. 47 

who has desired to be the deliverer of it. Your letter 
for Buckland I sent the same day I received it, as you 
commanded : I wish you a happy meeting, and am sorry 
it is not in my power to be myself of the party. Your 
aunts as well as myself are faithful servants to both our 
nephews, and I remain always in a most particular 

My dear niece, 
Your most faithful and obedient servant, 


George Lord Lunsdoume to Mrs. Pendarves. 

July 28th, 1719. 

My Dear Niece, 

When I look back to the date of the last letter 
with which you favoured me, I am out of countenance 
when I write this. I have indeed met with many inter- 
ruptions, or I should not have appeared so slow in my 

I am very well pleased to hear of the mutual incli- 
nation between Sir Richard Yyvyan's daughter and your 
sister, as I w^ould have it natural for our families to love 
one another. Your brother need not be in any hurry to 
leave you, since he writes me word he has settled his 
half-pay^ i I was indeed in pain about that, not knowing 

' It is related by Collins, 1756, that William Wentworth of Henbury, 
Dorsetshire, "had a cornet's commission in a regiment of dragoons when he 
■uas but two years old." The abuses which had crept into the regular 
army by this time are thus described by Sir Walter Scott, in an article in 
the Edinburgh Weekly Journal, of January 10, 1827. " No science was 
required on the part of a candidate for a commission in the army, no term 
of service as a cadet, no previous experience whatever, the promotion went on 
equally unimpeded ; the boy let loose from school last week might in the 


who was his agent, nor which way to go about it. That 
concern being over, I leave him master of his own reso- 
lutions, and refer him to what will be most acceptable to 
his mother and yourself, only I would not have him 
remain to be too troublesome. Your papa gives me hopes 
of seeing him as soon as his harvest is in, and you may 
beheve him as impatient to be with you as you can be to 
have him. It would be a great pleasure to me if we 
could once more be all together. 

My wife had a letter from you this morning which she 
has not time to answer, but she heartily thanks you 
for it ; she will in a post or two acquit herself of that 
debt. We are all faithful servants to Roskrow, and I 
remain always in a most particular manner and witli 
entire affection. 

My dear niece, 
Your most faithful humble servant, 

course of a month be a field officer, if his friends were disposed to be liberal of 
money and influence. Others there were against whom there could be no 
complaint for want of length of service, although it might be difficult to see 
how their experience was improved by it. It was no uncommon tiling for a 
commission to be obtained for a child in the cradle, and when he came from 
college the fortunate youth was at least lieutenant of some standing by dint 
of fair promotion. To sum up this catalogue of abuses, covimissions were 
in some instances bestowed u]>on young ladks, when pensions could not be 
had. We know ourselves one fair dame who drew the pay of. a captain in 

the di-agoons, and was probably not much less fit for the service than 

some who at that period actually did duty." 


George Lord Lansdoume to Mrs. Pendarves, 

Feb. 20th, 1719-20.' 

I cannot forbear congratulating with my dear niece 
in memory of this day, which I hope and make no ques- 
tion, will prove in every circumstance a happy one to you. 
As a proof that it is an auspicious one, Mr. Pendarves's 
Bill was read the second time, and committed this morn- 
ing in the House of Lords -^ so that he is now in a fair 
way of being very speedily his own master, and of an- 
swering his longing to return to you. We are now 
together in order to drink your health with an Huzza, 
and to Roskrow Top-a-Toe. All the wishes of this 
family sincerely attend you. Pray make our compli- 
ments to our friends with you, and believe me with un- 
alterable truth and affection, 

My dear niece, 
Your most faithful, humble servant, 


' Mrtvy Granville was married, (vide the Historical Register for 1718,) on the 
17th of February, to Alexander Pendarves, and according to an old calendar, 
the 17th of February, 1718, fell on a Wednesday, so that the above letter of 
Lord Lansdowne could not have been written on the exact anniversary either 
by the day of the week, or the day of the month ; but as he so perseveringly 
determined to disregard everything connected with his niece's marriage, except 
stren;jcthening his own political Cornish connection, it is not extraordinary that 
he should make this slight mistake in the date, which it was evident he 
was determined to associate with the passing of a bill connected with that 
large estate which he believed would be secured to her, and which he persuaded 
himself ought to repay her for years of misery, if she survived Mr. Pendarves. 

2 Private Acts. Anno 6 Georgii L (1719.) / 

VOL. I. 




Let your own obstinacy, my dear friend, be your pun- 
ishment, and since you insist on my finishing this little 
history I will not spare your patience but put it to the 
utmost trial, by recollecting as many particulars as my 
memory will permit. I have told you the unhappy 
situation I was in at Bassanio's, whose company would 
have been a great relief to my oppressed spirits, had he 
/ ^been less assiduous to please me. My brother was fond of 
his company, and was not of an age or experience enough 
in the ways of the world to make any observations to his 
disadvantage. He begged of me to prevail on Gromio 
to make a longer stay : I said I knew it was in vain to 
attempt it, for he was determined — at least I was resolved 
not to prevent his going home, a place I did not imagine 
I should ever see again with pleasure ; but I soon found 
there were degrees of misery. 

Some months passed after our return without any 
^extraordinary event : all the neighbourhood came and paid 
their compliments, and the house was continually full of 
company. I endeavoured to be very civil to all, parti- 
cularly Gromio's relations, who were not at first inclined 
to receive me well, but my youth and the application I 
had to oblige them gained their favour, and I had the 
satisfaction of being well treated by them all. 

The affair that had given me so much disturbance at 
Bassanio's, kept me on my guard in my behaviour towards 
other men ; I would rather have had a lion walk into 
the house, than any one whose person and address could 


alarm Gromio. There was in the neighbourhood a 
young man whose father had been a great friend of Mr. 
Pendarves ; he was a merchant, and was thought very 
rich ; he gave his son an expensive education, and sent 
him to travel ; on his return he married him to a young 
lady with 10,000/., knew himself at that time to be a 
bankrupt, and when he died left his son in miserable cir- 
cumstances. Carlo ^ was a very good-humoured agreeable 
man, modest and unaffected, very well in his person, his 
understanding nothing remarkable. He was not very en- 
tertaining, rather silent than talkative. His wife's estate 
and house lay about twenty miles from Eoskrow, but he 
often came to make Gromio a visit, who. loved him very 
much, and my brother took so great a fancy to him that he 
often made him stay a fortnight or tliree weeks at a time, 
in all which time his behaviour was unexceptionable. 

Carlo's wife was of the dull strain, had had a private 
education, was sickly and peevish, and had kept very 
little company. I was not fond of encouraging an 
intimacy with her, but she came once or twice in the year 
to make me a visit of a few days upon the unhappy 
change of affairs in their family. I was much concerned 
for their distress, for from a prospect of the greatest 
affluence, and living almost with magnificence, they were 
plunged into downright poverty, obliged to sell all her 
estate, house and furniture, and board in an obscure part 
of the country. Mr. Pendarves and I thought it but 
common humanity to invite them to spend some time 
with us, which we did. Carlo came, expressing the 
highest gratitude for our taking notice of them at a 
time when many they once thought their friends had for- 

' Mr. Nswman. 

£ 2 


saken them. He made an excuse tliat business obliged 
her to stay at home. He stayed one month, then another, 
and when it came to the third I began to think it strange 
he should stay so long from his poor unhappy wife. 
He grew excessively melancholy, hardly eat or spoke, 
and avoided all company that came to the house. 

Gromio often said to me, " I grieve for this poor 
young man's misfortunes : I wish they do not at last 
distract him, for I fear he is greatly in debt." I was 
of the same opinion, till one morning as I was passing 
from my dressing-room through the parlour, I found 
him standing at the window with a handkerchief in his 
hand, which he held to his eyes. I called to him, for 
his back was towards me, and asked him if he were not 
well, upon which he looked at me with a very disturbed 
look and seized me fast by both hands with such a grasp 
that he quite terrified me. " What is the matter with you, 
Carlo ? I fear you are in some great distress ; if Gromio 
can in any way serve you I am sure he will, and he has 
a great regard for you. I am surprised at your beha- 
viour, and beg to know what is the matter?" "You 
best can tell." answered he, " who are the occasion of it ; 
you are the cause of all my distraction?" I was so 
innocent I thought he meant I had done him ill offices 
with Gromio, and said, " I assure you, you are very 
unjust if you think me your enemy, or capable of doing 
you any injury ; I have ever been in your interest, and 
ever have had great compassion for your misfortunes. I 
will appeal to Gromio if I have not." 

All this while he held me fast, and looked so wildly 
that 1 endeavoured to break from him, upon which he said 
" he wished he had died before he had seen me." This 



fully explained liis meaning ; I broke from him, ran back 
into my dressing-room and locked myself up to recover 
the astonishment this strange behaviour of his had thrown 
me into ; then I strictly examined my own behaviour to- 
wards him, and could not accuse myself of having in any 
way encouraged him, so far otherwise, as I had reason to 
be very cautious, and was naturally shy to strangers, espe- 
cially after what had happened at Bassanio's. I often 
thought my conduct had been so cold and reserved to- 
wards Carlo, that he had reason to think his being at 
Averno not very agreeable to me, and during this whole 
course of my acquaintance with him, he had never said 
a word which could make me suspect that he had a greater 
regard for me than he ought to have. What was I to 
do ? I did not dare tell Gromio, and how could I get 
Carlo removed ? What a cruel distress ! With my little 
judgment, no experience, without a judicious friend to 
advise with, I found myself in a most dangerous situation ; 
I knew there could be no safety but in Carlo's being re- 

A shocking accident that night gave me the oppor- 
tunity I wanted. After supper, and when everybody 
was retired to their apartment, Gromio' s servant told him 
he had some reason to think that Carlo designed laying 
violent hands on himself, and thought it would be best to 
have him watched that night. He had asked for a pistol, 
and when told there was none in the house in order, he 
looked very gloomy and discontented. This unhappy 
suspicion, or I may rather say fortunate one (as I believe 
it was the means of avoiding a dreadful evil), gave me 
the opportunity I wanted, and I urged Gromio so 
earnestly to have him removed, that the next day he told 


him we were obliged to '* go on a visit for some time " (the 
custom of that country), and hoped it would be no in- 
convenience to him to return home. I believe Carlo 
suspected I had told what had passed between us, and 
with tears and many acknowledgments for favours re- 
ceived took his leave. 

I most heartily rejoiced at seeing him ride away, 
though 1 was indeed touched with his unhappiness, and 
that I should add to his misfortunes. He never loved 
his wife, nor was she amiable, but that did not excuse 
him, and she loved him excessively. I heard nothing 
of him for six months after this, and then was told that 
he went from our house to a friend who had been very 
generous and kind to him, and in return seduced his 
sister. He lived about a year after that, and died dis- 
tracted ; I ought to relieve you after telling you so 
melancholy a story. Hpw providentially fortunate was 
I to escape the snares of so villanous and ungrateful a 
wretch ! Adieu, my dear Maria. 



Soon after this sad event last related, my brother was 
called from me. I was very sensible, though a great in- 
dulgence to me, it could be no advantage to him to be 
buried in a country that allowed him no opportunity of 
improving himself : though my reason approved of his 
going, the tender love I had for him, and my own un- 
happy state made me very miserable to part with him. 


I have so mucli to tell you, that 1 must not dwell too 
long upon little particulars. Gromio seemed very happy 
and well satisfied with my behaviour, and if I showed no 
delight in being in his company (which my honest heart 
would not let me do), I took care he should have no 
reason to accuse me of preferring any other to it. I 
never made any visits without him, and as he was oft^n 
confined with the gout, I always worked and read in his 
chamber. My greatest pleasure was riding, but I never 
indulged myself in that exercise unless he proposed it, 
and I must do him the justice to say he was very obliging 
in his behaviour to me, and T have often reproached 
myself bitterly for my ingratitude (if it can be strictly 
called so), in not loving a man, who had so true an affec- 
tion for me. That is a most painful reflection, and has 
frequently added to my anxieties. 

In this manner two years passed. I was happier in the 
third : business obliged Gromio to go to London, and my 
father and mother, and sister came to stay w^th me in 
his absence. happy year I that made me some amends 
for what I had suffered ! 

My sister, though very young, was now grown very 
conversable and entertaining, and I took great delight 
in her company. AVe went to every place in the country 
that was worth seeing ; and my father, whose family had 
been so long distinguished and respected in that country, 
was much caressed by all the neighbourhood, and had 
extraordinary civilities paid him by everybody; my 
mother though naturally reserved and weak-spirited, 
exerted herself to entertain me and my friends, and 
nobody could be more engaging or agreeable, as she 
was sensible, well acquainted with the world, and per- 


fectly well-bred ; and the beauty of her countenance, 
and the gracefulness and dignity of her person, could 
not fail to engage the regard and esteem of all that 
conversed with her. 

This happy year passed on without anything happen- 
ing worth relating to you. 

Gromio wrote to me by every post, and his affairs 
obliging him to stay another year in London, he desired 
me to come to him, when my friends returned home, 
which they proposed doing the latter end of the summer. 
I was, I own, very well pleased at the thought of seeing 
once more a place where I had been bred up, and those 
friends, who had had the care of me ; but these jo>'s 
were damped to so great a degree, by one thought, 
that I should have preferred banishment from all I 
loved to the enjoyment of their company, since by 
doing that, I could not avoid the person who made my 
life miserable. 

I am sure my dear generous Maria must condemn me, 
and have a very bad opinion of my nature, that could so 
obstinately repel all sense of affection for one so fond of 
me, but I flatter myself it was not in my power to make 
a suitable return, or if it had, I promised not to disguise 
any part of my conduct or even my sentiments from you ; 
and I will rather run the hazard of losing some part of 
your good opinion, than hide myself from you, under the 
veil of any kind of deceit. 
] The day came when we were to leave Averno ; it cost 
me fewer tears on leaving its solemn walls than in coming 
to them. Our journey was pleasant, though attended 
i^with some accidents on the road, as breaking of wheels 
&c., but no other harm than a little delay. 


I staid a month at the Farm with my father and 
mother, and tlien received a summons which I durst 
not refuse, but immediately left that dear delightful 
place. My father, whose goodness to me was beyond all 
expression, accompanied me to my own house. I was 
then to enter upon a new scene of life, and must (befo re 
I lay it open to your view) beg leave to take breath. 

Mrs. Petidarves to Mrs, Ann Qranvitte, at Buckland, near Broadivay, hy 
Campden Bag, Gloucestershire. 

London, 29th Nov. 1720. 

Dear Sister, 

I have been very rude in not sooner returning 
my thanks for your obliging letter, but I really have so 
little time to myself, that I cannot do as I would or as I 
ought. Pray present my humble duty to my mama. I 
designed writing to her last post, but I was engaged that 
whole day at Somerset House, and my papa told me he 
would write to my mother and make my excuse. I was 
last Wednesday at the opera called Astartus ;^ it is a new 
one, and there is very fine musick in it. The stage was 
never so well served as it is now, there is not one indif- 
ferent voice, they are all Italians. There is one man 
called Serosini'^ who is beyond Nicolini^ both in person 

* Schloecher, in his " Life of Handel," writing of the establishment of the 
Royal Academy of Music, and of Handel's direction of the Italian Opera 
at the Haymarket Theatre, mentions Bononcini as a celebrated composer 
brought over by the R.A.M., in 1720, from Rome. " Where he had lately 
produced the opera of ' Astarto' with much success." 

2 Query Senesino — so called because he was a native of Sienna, his proper 
name being Francesco Bemardi. He was one of the most celebrated of the 
company of fine singers collected by Handel in 1720, 

' Nicolini Grimaldi arrived in England in 1708, and sang in the "Pj'rrhus 


and voice. I wish my mama and yourself were in town 
with all my heart. I go as often to Somerset House as I 
can, for it is the greatest satisfaction I have now I can't 
have your company. You are now so perfect a woman 
in your behaviour, that I don't doubt but your conver- 
sation makes the hours pass away very agreably to my 
mother, but I find you have not much company. I ex- 
pect my Lady Grandison to make me a visit this even- 
ing. Lady Carteret nor the Countess have yet honoured 
me with a visit, but the reason is, there is one of Lord 
Carteret's sons dead. I stick close to my spinnet, and 
Mr. Simmons is very good and diligent. I have not 
been " mother Brown''' with him since I came to town. He 
and his son have almost all the business of the town, 
and he has raised his price to two guineas a month. 
Mrs. Langley (Miss Mercer that was) has been to see 
me ; she is prettier than ever she was, but prodigious fat. 
My Aunt Stanley and Mrs. Tellier have both had bad 
colds. Mrs. Tellier is pretty well again, but my aunt is 
still much out of order. Mr. Cowper's gun and pistols 
are safe ; they shall be sent by the next return of the 
carrier. I beg his pardon that I have so long kept them. 
Poll is very well, and at present with my father. 

I am afraid I have quite tired you with my long letter ; 
pray let me hear from you very often. I beg my daugh- 
ter s^ pardon for not answering her letter, but I will very 
soon ; give my love to her, and I will certainly speak to 

and Demetrius " of Alessandro Scarletti, which was adapted for the occasion 
by Nicolo Francesco Haym, a native of Rome. 

1 Sarah Capon (afterwards Mrs. Sandford), daughter of Sarah Kirkham, 
the early playfellow of Mary Granville ; and her god-daughter, as well as her 
sister's, Ann Granville, to whom this letter is addressed. 


her uncle when I see him. Service to all neighbours, 
and be assured I am, my dearest sister, 

Yours most affectionately, 
M. Pendarves. 

Don't brag of my long letter to any of my correspon- 
dents, for I cannot afford to write to them so. All friends 
in Cornwall are well. 

Lady Lansdotime to CoL Bernard QranviUe. 

London, June lOtb, 1721. 

I return you thanks, dear brother,^ for your inquiring 
after me. I should make you some excuse for not having 
done it before, but I have not had a moment to myself. 
You may well imagine that after a year absence, and as 
things have altered in that year, there is a great deal to 
be done ; for when I went out of England I was a South- 
Sea lady. But my fate has been as all the rest of the 
world, therefore we are obliged to do as our neighbours, 
which is to consider that the South Sea is no more, and we 
must make ourselves as easy as we can ! upon this your 
brother thought my coming would be proper ; he, I thank 
God, is very well. Your brother gave me commission 
among other things to speak to you, if you was in town, 
about your son Bevill, who has written to him that he 
thinks he has been long enough at school, and indeed 
every body is of his mind for what he learns there. I 
believe he would be as well anywhere else. I was in 
hopes that he would have gone through the school as my 
brother Villiers had done before him, but you must now 

' Bernard Granville was hrother-in-law to Lady LansdowTie. 


let me know your opinion about him. You know your 
brother has got five hundred pounds of his, which we can 
pay him fifty pounds a year. Bevill is at Sir John 
Stanley's, and has been there for some time. The holidays 
being almost over makes me write to you, for I sup- 
pose he will not return to school. I wish that it was in my 
power to serve both your sons, but the world is so altered 
that I do not know anybody that will help one another. 
Our circumstances are so \hat we must retrench our 
family, to see if we can save anj^thing at the year's end to 
get my daughters some small fortunes ; for my part, I 
am not ashamed to have the world know the reason that 
I save money, we are but as our neighbours. If you have 
anything to say to your brother by me, you must let me 
know soon, for I hope to return next week. My service 
to my sister and niece. Believe me with great truth, dear 
brother. Your most humble servant, 

M. Lansdowne. 
Jjord Carteret's son^ is dead of the small pox. 



There is one thing you will think strange, which is 
my not mentioning Bassanio in all this time ; he was too 
quick-sighted not to perceive Gromio's suspicions and my 
great dislike of his behaviour, and as it was his interest 

» The Hon. George Carteret, born February 14th, 1717, was buried at 
Hawnes, in Bedfordshire, June 13, 1721. John Lord Carteret, his father, was 
afterwards Earl Granville, as he succeeded to that earldom on the death 
of his mother, who was Countess Granville in her own right, and grand- 
daughter to the famous Sir Bevil Granville. 


to keep in favour with his uncle, he was upon his guard, 
and never gave either of us reason to be offended with 
him any more. Soon after he was seized with terrible 
fits that ended his life, a year and half after I married. 

When I came to London, Gromio received me with 
great joy ; he had taken a house in a very unpleasant 
part of the town (Rose Street, Hog Lane, Soho) ; but 
I was very indifferent where my situation was. I have 
never mentioned to you a sister he had, who was 
four years older than himself, and married the year 
before him, without his or any of her friends' consent. 
You'll say she was old enough to choose for herself; but 
her judgment was by no means equal to her years ; 
not that she wanted sense, but she was vain and impe- 
rious, excessively jealous, and inquisitive to the last degree 
of impertinence : she affected all the airs of a young 
woman of twenty-five. 

Thus qualified, you cannot be surprised that a very 
artful Scotchman, who knew a good deal of the world, 
should gain her good graces ; she had a very good 
opinion of herself, had not a heart of adamant, and 
thought her cliarms so much on the decline, that if 
she refused this offer, she might not have another, so at 
the age of sixty-one she resigned herself and fortune 
into the possession of this man. The latter was what 
he wanted ; he got two thousand pounds of it, the rest 
her brother would not pay. The cunning Scot walked 
off with his booty, and left the poor forlorn woman, 
to mourn liis absence, for he had managed so well 
with her that she did not see the dupe she was. When 
I married Gromio, I was told of her indiscreet marriage, 
and how much her brother resented it ; that she was in 


great distress, and he would not see her, and I made it ray 
request that he would be reconciled to her, which he 
immediately complied with ; but at the same time I 
told him I hoped he would never insist on her living 
with me, for, from the character he had given of her, I 
was afraid of her meddling, governing temper. He pro- 
mised me she never should be imposed upon 7ne ; this 
being settled between us, I was greatly surprised, upon 
my coming to town, to find her in the house, but hoped 
it was only for a few days. Vain were my hopes ; I too 
soon found she was fixed there, and that I should sufier 
infinitely from her ill-humours. I believe that if I had 
insisted upon Gromio's promise, that she should not live 
with me, I might have had her removed ; but as I feared 
no spy, I would not put it into the power of her malice 
to say I did.^ 

Hitherto I had lived in great affluence, and I had never 
known the want of money : I was as prudent in the 
management of my domestic affairs, as I thought our 
circumstances required ; in the country, I had not the 
demands for money that attended the life I was now 
engaged in, and I was so well furnished with clothes and 
pocket-money by Lord Lansdown on my marriage, that 
I had no notion of ever wanting. I will not trouble 
you, my dear Maria, with the particulars of my dis- 
tresses on that score ; Gromio's excuse to me was, " bad 
tenants and a cheating steward," which I truly believe 

' It is known that at this period the servants of Mrs. Pendarves were under 
orders to give a daily account of every place she went to ; and it was 
doubtless the knowledge of this system which made her endure everything 
rather than ask for the removal of her duenna. This fact was mentioned by 
Mary Granville in the latter years of her life to her niece, the mother of the 
Editor, from whom she heard it. 


was the case, though I had many hints given me, by his 
old friends, that he had some very 'mar relations to 
maintain. This was the l^ist mvifortune I could have 
expected ; I thought myself at least secure of an easy 
fortune. Gromio, to drown his cares, which I believe 
were then very heavy on him, and his remorse for having 
drawn me into miserable circumstances, had recourse to 
the society I have already mentioned : he never was at 
home but when the gout confined him, and then I 
never left him. When he had the gout, he could never 
bear (even in the midst of winter) the least fire in his 
room, and I have read three hours together to him, 
trembling with cold all the time. He has often been 
confined six weeks together : as soon as he was able to 
go abroad, he returned to his society, never came home 
sober, and has frequently been led between two servants 
to bed at six and seven o'clock in the morning. Un- 
happy, cruel state ! How many tears have I shed, and 
what sorrow of heart have I felt ! These were the 
scenes I had at home : it is now time to tell you what 
I met with abroad, which I must make the subject of 
another letter, this being already of unreasonable length. 
I am, my dearest Maria, your faithful 


The following Darrative was also written in Mary Granville's 
own hand ; and as it concludes with the period alluded to in 
the above letter, it is here inserted. 

In the year 1718, when I was at Roscrow, in Cornwall, Sir 
William and Lady Pendarvise (distantly related to Mr. Pen- 
darves) were our nearest neighbours, (She was sister to Dean 
Godolphin.) Sir Wm. Pendarvise was a very handsome man, 
with a moderate understanding, ten years at Court, younger than 


his lady, wlio was neither young or handsome, therefore it may 
be presumed he married her for her fortune and connections, 
and she married him for his pretty person, and was excessive 
fond of him. Lady Pendarvis had brought down into Cornwall 

with her, Miss H (daughter of Lord , the Earl of 

's son, who had been so reduced in his circumstances that 

he married Mrs. Hays, who kept the rooms at Bath, for a main- 
tenance. Lady Pendarvis, when at Bath, was moved with 

compassion at seeing a young creature like Miss H exposed 

to every danger that beauty, high spirits, and no education must 
necessarily subject her to, without a prudent relation or friend 
to guard and admonish ber. Lady Pendarvis therefore proposed 

to Lord to take his daughter with her to Cornwall, 

which he very readily consented to. The prettiness of her 
person, the liveliness of her manner, and the melancholy situa- 
tion she was in, made me very glad to show her any civility that 
would a little console her, and indeed a good-natured, agreeable 
companion was a great aquisition to me, and we soon grew 
very intimate ; but in the course of our acquaintance, which had 
been about half a year, I found an alteration in her behaviour, a 
pertness, and an assuming manner, which I plainly saw gave 

Lady Pendarvis uneasiness. Miss H told me that though 

Lady P was very kind to her, and she was sensible of the 

obligation she was under, that her temper was so gloomy and 
captious, she really did not know how to please ber. 

I knew that several wild and unprincipled people were the com- 
panions of Sir W. Pendarvis, and I often warned Miss H to 

be very cautious in her behaviour, and to take no steps but what 

were directed by Lady P , for which grave admonition she 

turned me into ridicule, and said I was "growing as crusty as the 
old lady ;" this lively stroke made me suspect something had 
gone wrong. I asked her how they spent their time at Pen - 
darvis (the name of their seat in Cornwall) ; she said there was 
a succession of men visitors, and that they generally sat a great 
while after dinner, but as she loved reading, when she could 
get away from Lady P , she used to go into her own room 


for that purpose, and now and then one or two of the gentlemen 
would follow her, and read plays with her ; but she found this 

gave ofifence to Lady P , who called her to an account for it ; 

upon which she altered her behaviour, and did everything she 
could to oblige her ; and after such a sacrifice she thought she 
might indulge herself after the family were gone to bed, in ad- 
Hnitting visits for an hour or two at that time, especially as Sir "W. 
Pendarvis was often of the party, there could be no harm in it. 

I told her I was sure she did not think she was doing wrong, 
or she would not have allowed them such liberty ; but it 
appeared to me as very dangerous conduct, and I could wish she 
would not persue it, if she did I must break off all acquaintance 
with her. But she laughed at me, said I was very prudish, and 
from that time she had never any confidence in me. It was a point 
I could not talk of to Lady Pendarvis ; I knew her temper was 
violent, and thought if I raised a jealousy in her, I might make 
her very miserable, and had not confidence enough in my own 
judgment to meddle in an affair of such delicacy ; and there was 

no intimate friend of Lady P that I could consult, and indeed 

I was without any confidential friend of my own to advise with. 

My brother w^as at that time with me, and I soon observed, 
by her very forward, talkative manner with him, that she had 
lost that diffident modesty, which, at my first acquaintance 
with her, was an engaging part of her character ; he was too 
young and unpractised in the ways of the world, for me to 
consult with on an occasion of such a nature, but I was soon 
relieved from my anxiety about her. From the time of the 
extraordinary conversation I had with her, her behaviour was 
very different ; she was reserved, civil, and quiet in her manner, 
and, I hoped, had considered the subject with some advantage 

to herself. Her youngest aunt was Mrs. B , and her eldest 

aunt Mrs. P. B , who was a woman of great wit, with a 

certain intrepidity of behaviour, that made her very entertaining, 
though too often her unguarded manner gave offence to those who 

were of a more delicate way of thinking. Miss H 's mother 

was the eldest sister of this family, but died when she was an 

VOL. I. F 


infant. Lady D , her grandmother, had lodgings in Somer- 
set House ; they were all very well at Court, and had interest 
sufficient to obtain the place of semstress to Her Majesty Queen 
Caroline, for their niece, and I believe the day that Lady Pen- 
darvis was called upon to carry her to Court, and resign her 
charge, was a very happy one to her. 

I saw very little of Sir Wm. Pendarvis, or his lady, after 

Miss H left them; they were very little [in the country, 

and Mr. Pendarves had never a very cordial kindness for Sir 
William. Some years after I heard that Lady Pendarvis 

had acted a very generous part towards Miss H ; for 

though she had disturbed her domestic happiness in a high 
degree, she never made any complaint of her, but let the 
affair drop quietly ; indeed she did not long survive it ; after 
which Sir W.'s house was the rendezvous of a very immoral 
set of men. One of his strange exploits, amongst other frolics, 
was having a coffin made of copper (which one of his mines that 
year had produced), and placed in the midst of his great hall, 
and instead of his making use of it as a monitor that might have 
made him ashamed and terrified at his past life, and induce 
him to make amends in future, it was filled with punch, and he 
and his comrades soon made themselves incapable of any sort 
of reflection ; this was often repeated, and hurried him on to that 
awful moment he had so much reason to dread. 

I went to London in the year 1720, in the beginning of 
November. Soon after my arrival I received a letter from Miss 

H , full of acknowledgements for the civilities she had 

received from me in Cornwall, and hoping I would give her leave 
to improve the acquaintance, and appoint a day for our meeting, 
which I did with great pleasure. She was in the apartments 
belonging to her office, and seemed very happy and in good 
spirits, and begged I would be her chaperone when she went to 
public places, as the Queen, who had been so good to take her 
under her protection, gave her cautions with whom she appeared 
in public. " On Her Majesty's enquiring," said she, " who were 
my chief acquaintance, I named you with a particular regard, and 


she said she should be ^'perfectly satisfied at my going tvith you 
anywhere." I complied with her request, and went with her to 
plays and Lady Strafford's assembly, which was once a fortnight, 
and the only one at that time, except Lady Chetwind's every 
Sunday, which I never attended. But I was by no means pleased 
with her behaviour : she was very free in her manner and con- 
versation, which consequently drew a circle of fluttering men about 
her, which often distressed me, and I remonstrated with her on 
the impropriety of such conduct ; and upon her making me a very 
free speech in company, which put me very much out of counte- 
nance, I declared to her I would be her chaperone no longer ; and 
indeed I was very sensible (though a married woman) that I was 
too young for such an oflSce, being one year younger than herself. 

After this time there was a great coolness between us. The 
summer following she was ordered to go to Tunbridge for 
her health, which had been declining for soncie time ; at her 
return to town, at the latter end of the year, she sent to beg I 
would come and spend an evening with her, as she was not well 
enough to go to me. I accordingly went, and found with her 

her sister and her uncle, Mr. W. B , who, she told me, was 

not very fond of her. When they went away I would have 
gone, but she desired me to stay and sup with her, which I did. 
Her conversation was upon common topics, and rather reserved ; 
she said she was no better for Tunbridge, and mdeed she looked 
very ill — was in a loose wrapping gown. She desired I would let 
her come and spend an evening with me as soon as she was well 
enough to go out, which she did in about a fortnight after. 
Before my little supper was ready, she quite fainted away in her 
chair. I was greatly shocked and alarmed, but she soon reco- 
vered out of her fainting fit, but did not find herself well enough 
to stay supper, and went home directly. I heard the next 
morning that she had a good night, and was pretty well again. 

A few days after this. Sir Anthony Westcomb, my friend and 
cousin-german, who lived much in the world, and was so friendly 
as to advise and caution me (knowing how ignorant I was of the 
world) told me he wished I would break off all acquaintance 

with Miss H , for her conduct had been very indiscreet ; that 



he had his information from very good authority, but was not at 
hberty to tell his author. I was very much offended at the 
aspersion, and I hoped it was a false one ; he said he did not 
doubt of my abhorrence of indiscretion, but feared that such arts 
as she was mistress of, might impose upon one so free from awy, 
and begged of me to bear in mind what he told me, which I 
really did ; and the recollection of many circumstances that had 
passed, raised some suspicion in me. 

Soon after this I spent a fortnight at North-End. When 
I returned again to town, I received a verbal message from 

Miss H , to desire I would not call on her, for she had 

got a complaint which obliged her to keep all her acquaintance 
from her; and that she would give notice when they might 
come. I own the meSsage astonished me ; some weeks after 
I received another, to desire I would call in the morning, 
appointing the hour, I had told Mr. Pendarves, what had 
passed between me and Sir Anthony about her, and my con- 
duct upon it, which he seemed very well satisfied with. I 
then proposed that we should call in our way to North-End, if 
he would have the patience to sit in the chariot whilst I made a 
short visit, which he readily agreed to, having as much curiosity 
to hear the account of this visit as I had. I was ushered up- 
stairs into a drawing-room (she was then at a lodging in War- 
wick Street). She soon came into the room, so thin, and so 
pale, that it put me into the utmost astonishment, and I said, 
" Indeed, you look very ill !" " Oh, I have been very bad 
indeed ; but am very well now." I thought it best not to 
make any particular enquiries what had been her disorder, but 
shortened my visit by telling her Mr. Pendarves waited for me 
in the chariot, and that we were engaged to go to North-End. 

Soon after the real cause of her confinement was made 
public ; many and various were the conjectures, and gentle 
means were tried by those to whom she was under the highest 
obligations, to get the truth from her : her best friend had the 
humanity to wish to bring her to such a sense of it, as to make 
some amends for what she had been guilty of. Soon after her 
last visit 10 me, she sent for her privately, and told her what had 


been suspected now amounted to a certainty, but that she had 
such a real kindness and compassion for her, she was willing to 
save her, if possible, from any further censure from the world ; 
and that if she would honestly confess to her, and say that she 
was truly sensible of her bad conduct, and wished sincerely to 
reform, she would not only give her an opportunity of retiring, 
but restore her again to her place and favour in time. Instead 
of receiving this gracious offer with humble thankfulness, and 
being overwhelmed with such goodness, she flew into a passion,^ 
said it was a vile aspersion, and defied what the world could say 
of her; upon which she was dismissed from the Q 's pre- 
sence and her service, and obliged to remove to other lodgings, 
where her only associates were her uncle and her sister, and a 

Col. W , a friend of her uncle's, who met there to play at 

cards. To complete this horrid tale, Col. W , a man of as 

little delicacy as morals, had planned, for some time, to secure 
her for himself, and carried her off into Wales, since which time 
I have never heard of either of them. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne OranvxHe. 

Rose Street, 14th July, 1722. 

You must not take it ill, my dear sister, that this is the 
first letter directed to you since I left Buckland, for I 
have been in full employment since I came to town in 
equiping myself with clothes for my mourning,^ which 

1 It is recorded that this lady made use of an expression which is so very 
extraordinary that it is here repeated as a curiosity of the last century to show 
what a peer's daughter and a maid of honour could say more than a hundred 
years ago. When desired to speak without reserve, she said that " the Devil 
should eat her bones if she did." 

■^ Historical Register, 1722, April 14 . Died, Mrs. Stanley, wife of Colonel 
Stanley, brother of Sir John Stanley, Bart. On the 3rd of May died " Henry 
Monk, Esq., the last heir in tail (of that family) by the will of Cr. Monk, 
Duke of Albemarle." 

For either of these persons Mrs. Pendarves might have worn slight mourn- 
ing in July 1722. 


tliougli a very slight one, was a good pretence for me to 
have a white lutestring. Your cheerful letter and good ac- 
count of my dear papa has given me a great deal of pleasure 
and satisfaction ; I never cease praying for his re-estah- 
lishment in a perfect state of good health, and I heg I 
may constantly hear how he does in a particular manner, 
whilst he is under the physician's discipline. I desire 
you will present my humble duty to my papa and mama. 
I did design writing to-day to my father, but Mr. Pen- 
darves prevents me, so I will defer my letter to another 
post. Pray assure my brother and Mrs. Carter of my humble 
service ; I acknowledge myself their debtor, but will pay 
them in a very little time. 

Last Wednesday I was all night upon the water with 
Lady Harriot Harley.^ We went into the barge at five 
in the afternoon, and landed at Whitehall Stairs. We 
rowed up the river as far as Eichmond, and were enter- 
tained all the time with very good musick in another 
barge. The concert was composed of three hautboys, 
two bassoons, flute, allemagne, and young Grenoc's 
trumpet. We were to have had Mrs. Eobinson'^ with us, 
but unluckily she was engaged, otherwise our entertain- 
ment had been complete. While we lay before Richmond, 
we eat some cold meat and fruit, and there was variety 
of wines ; but notwithstand^ all these varieties of diver- 
sion I should not have enjoyed them, had I not received 
a letter that post from Mrs. Carter which gave me a 
particular good account of my father, for which favour I 

1 Wife of Edward, then Lord Harley, and afterwards 2nd Earl of Oxford, 
and mother of Margaret, Duchess of Portland. His father, the 1st Earl of 
Oxford, died May 21, 1724. 

2 The second wife of Charles, 4th Earl of Peterborough, 


will return her a thousand thanks. I cannot say though 
the town is not full, that it is disagreable. I have ac- 
quaintance enough in it never to be quite alone, and 
the Park is very pleasant, for what company there is in 
town you are sure of meeting there. 

Mrs. Andrews's sister. Miss AVliiteman, is run mad, 
and now confined in a mad-house ; her sister, I think, 
wants such a place as much, for nothing but one out of 
their senses could behave themselves so ridiculously. I 
expect Mrs. Nelly Warren to dine with me to-day, I have 
not yet seen her. Yesterday my Cousin Ogle was here, 
who asked very much after all friends at Buckland ; she 
expects her husband home soon, laden with the prizes he 
has taken from the three pirates. 

I was in the afternoon yesterday at Somerset House, 
where I found my Aunt Stanley better than she had 
been for some days ; she charged me with her service 
and best wishes to Buckland. She would have writ to 
ray father herself, and hopes he does not take it unkind 
she has not, but she was so ill and low in spirits that 
she was not able to write a line. My brother Bevill 
walked in the Park with me last night. I left him well 
in Stable-yard, but suppose you will have a letter from 
him this post. I was sitting down to write to Buckland 
last post, but was prevented by a message from my aunt 

G IP that she wanted to speak with me at Somerset 

House. When I came it was to give me the solitaires, 
which are at last arrived. I will send my mother's and 
yours by the first opportunity. 

I am, my dear sister most afiectionately yours, 

M. Pendarves. 

^ Mrs. Elizabeth Granville, the unmarried sister of Lord LansJownc, 
Colonel Granville, and Lady Stanley. 


I rejoice at the Goldfinch's good health ; Pigeon is not 
so gay as when at Buckland, but begs his humble 

I am not certain when I go to Cornwall, or if at all. I 
will make enquiry for some right Palsye drops. 

Mrs. Anastasia Kobinson. 

The following account of Mrs. Anastasia Robinson was dictated 
to Dr. Burney by Mrs. Delany, many years after the date of this 

"Mrs. Anastasia Robinson was of a middling stature, not 
handsome, but of a pleasing modest countenance, with large 
blue eyes ; her deportment easy, unaffected, and graceful ; 
her manner and address very engaging, and her behaviour 
on all occasions, that of a gentlewoman, with perfect pro- 
priety. She was not only liked by her acquaintance, but 
loved and caressed by persons of the highest rank, with whom 
she appeared always equal without assuming. Her father's 
house, in Golden Square, was frequented by all the men of genius 
and refined taste of the times. Among the number of persons of 
distinction who frequented Mr. Robinson's house, and seemed to 
distinguish his daughter in a particular manner, were the Earl of 

Peterborough and General H . The latter had shown a long 

attachment to her, and his attentions were so remarkable, that 
they seemed more than the efiects of common politeness ; and as 
he was a very agreeable man and in good circumstances, he was 
favourably received, not doubting but that his intentions were 
honourable ; but a declaration of a very contrary nature was 
treated with the contempt it deserved, though Mrs. A. Robinson 
was very much prepossessed in his favour. 

" Soon after this Lord Peterborough endeavoured to convince 
her of his partial regard for her ; but, agreeable and artful as he 
was, she remained very much upon her guard, which rather in- 
creased than diminished his admiration for her ; yet still his 
pride struggled with his inclination, for all this time she was 


etigaged to sing in public, a circumstance very grievous to 
her ; but urged by tlie best of motives, she submitted to it, in 
order to assist her parents, whose fortune was much reduced by 
Mr. Robinson's loss of sight, which deprived him of the benefit 
of his profession as painter. 

'' At length Lord Peterborough made his declaration to her 
on honourable terms. He found it would be vain to make pro- 
posals on any other, and as he omitted no circumstance that 
could engage her esteem and gratitude, she accepted them, as 
she was sincerely attached to him. He earnestly requested her 
to keep it a secret till a more convenient time for him to make 
it known, to which she readily consented, having a perfect con- 
fidence in his honour. 

*' Mrs. A. Robinson had a sister, a very pretty accomplished 
woman, who married Dr. Arbuthnot's brother. After the death 
of Mr. Robinson, Lord Peterborough took a house near Fulham, 
in the neighbourhood of his own villa at Parsons -green, whero 
he settled Mrs. Robinson and her mother. They never lived 
under the same roof, till the earl, being seized with a violent fit 
of illness, solicited her to attend him at Mount Bevis near 
Southampton ; which she refused with firmness, but upon con- 
dition that, though still denied to take his name, she might be 
permitted to wear her wedding-ring ; to which, finding her inex- 
orable, he at length consented. 

" His haughty spirit was still reluctant to the making a decla- 
ration that would have done justice to so worthy a character as 
the person to whom he was now united ; and indeed his uncon- 
trollable temper and high opinion of his own actions made him a 
very awful husband, ill suited to Lady Peterborough's good sense, 
amiable temper, and delicate sentiments. She was a Roman 
Catholic, but never gave offence to those of contrary opinion, 
though very strict in what she thought her duty. Her excellent 
piinciples and fortitude of mind, supported her through many 
severe trials in her conjugal state. At last he prevailed on 
himself to do her justice, instigated, it is supposed, by his bad 
state of health, which obliged him to seek another climate, and 


she absolutely refused to go with him unless he declared his 
marriage ; and her attendance on him in this illness nearly cost 
her her life, 

" He appointed a day for all his nearest relations to meet him 
at the apartment over the gateway of St. James's Palace belong- 
ing to Mr. Poyntz, who was married to Lord Peterborough's 
niece, and at that time preceptor of Prince William, afterwards 
Duke of Cumberland; he also appointed Lady Peterborough 
to be there at the same time. When they were all assembled, 
he began a most eloquent oration, enumerating all the virtues 
and perfections of Mrs. A. Robinson, and the rectitude of her 
conduct during his long acquaintance with her, for which he ac- 
knowledged his great obligation and sincere attachment, declaring 
he was determined to do her that justice which he ought to have 
done long ago, which was, presenting her to all his family as his 
wife. He spoke this harangue with so much energy, and in 
parts so pathetically, that Lady Peterborough, not being apprised 
of his intentions, was so affected that she fainted away in the 
midst of the company. 

" After Lord Peterborough's death, she lived a very retired 
life, chiefly at Mount Bevis, and was seldom prevailed on to leave 
that habitation but by the Duchess of Portland, who was always 
happy to have her company at Bulstrode when she could obtain 
it, and often visited her at her own house. 

" Among Lord Peterborough's papers, she found his memoirs, 
written by himself, in which he declared he had been guilty of 
such actions as would have reflected very much upon his cha- 
racter, for which reason she burnt them. This, however, con- 
tributed to prove the excellency of her principles, though it 
did not fail giving offence to the curious inquirers after anecdotes 
of so remarkable a character as that of the Earl of Peterborough." 

Lord Peterborough's declaration of his marriage took place in 
1735, and he died at Lisbon the same year. 

Lady Peterborough died in 1750. 

It is said that Bevis Mount derives the first part of its name 
from Sir Bevis of Hampton, who is "fabled to have mauled the 


invading Danes, even to better purpose than Sir Guy of War- 
wick, who, as the story goes, smote the great Colebrand, some- 
where in the vale of Chilcombe, while King Athelstan, sitting on 
a turret of the north wall of Winchester, beheld the progress and 
issue of the combat. 

If Sir Bevis did not decide the fate of the Danes, by hewing 
down a giant in single combat, he has the credit of raising a 
gigantic mound of earth, to obstruct the passage of the Itchen ; 
and this is the origin of the name. 

Lord Lansdowne to Col. Bernard OranviUe. 

Feby. 15, 1722-3. 

My Dear Brother, 

I rejoice exceedingly at the account you continue 
to give me of recovering your health at the Bath. 
I thank you for the plan you sent me of the pillar erected 
upon Lansdowne, but I find the performer has not been 
exact in the execution, having failed in the two principal 
points recommended to him. His directions were to be 
sure of making the tables for the inscriptions so large, 
that the letters might be easily legible at a distance by 
any passenger on horseback, and the size of the tables 
would be a direction to proportion the rest of the work. 
It was likewise foreseen, that unless it was surrounded 
by a rail it would be impossible to hinder it from being 
defaced by comers and goers, who would be apt to scratch 
their own conceits and sentences upon it ; besides cattle 
which are constantly grazing upon the down would be 
rubbing against it. These very reasons were urged by 
the undertaker himself, and therefore it was concluded 
there should be a handsome rail of stone, of which there 
is great plenty in all that neighbourhood and the best in 


the kingdom, and unless this is performed, he has not 
completed his work according to his own proposition. 

I have had a very grave and serious letter from my 
nephew Bevil, to acquaint me that he has at last taken 
the resolution of devoting himself to the Church. I 
cannot say but I am heartily glad of it ; there is 
nothing like choosing some profession or other for young 
men ; otherwise they must necessarily fall into idleness 
without any hope of being ever useful in any kind to 
their families or country. A man of quality, provided he 
maintains his character (for without that, there can be 
nothing expected), cannot fail of making his way some 
time or other, and more readily this way than any other. 

He informs me that he designs to enter himself at 
Trinity College in Cambridge because I was of that 
college, which he means as a compliment to me, but I 
would have him well consider of that. In my time in- 
deed it was a most flourishing college, but of late years 
it has been disturbed with a civil war between the 
master and fellows, which is carried on with so much 
warmth and animosity on both sides, that it cannot be 
comfortable living amongst them. I should think he 
had better choose come college in Oxford, which is nearer 
to you at Buckland, which neighbourhood would make 
that choice more convenient and agreeable to you all, and 
besides you would have his conduct and behaviour more 
under your own inspection. There is a college^ in 

1 Lord Lansdown refers to Exeter College, Oxford, where Sir Bevil Gran- 
ville graduated as Bachelor of Arts, Febry, 1613. Denis Granville, Dean of 
Durham, a son of Sir Bevil's, also received his education there. Lord 
Lansdovs^n's father was Bernard Granville, brother to the Dean, consequently 
the Dean was his uncle, and Sir Bevil bis grandfather, to which Lord Lansdown 
referred in this letter. 


Oxford particular to the western gentleman ; my uncle 
the dean was I believe of it, and so was my grandfather, 
whose death that University so much honoured.^ Christ 
Church 1 have heard is as much divided into factions as 
Trinity — the same reason subsists against going there ; 
when one is to choose a retreat, one would choose a quiet 
one ; there is no studying in the midst of quarrels and 
disturbance. I have answered his letter and given him 
my opinion in all but this article ; I would fain have 
him do well, and establish such a character as may give 
him higher views in time than barely remaining a country 

God Almighty bless and prosper you all. Being come 
to the bottom of my paper, I have but barely room to 
assure you of my remaining, my dear brother, 

Eternally yours. Lansdown. 

Endorsed by Col. Granville as " Received Saturday, 16 Feb. 1722-3." 

Lord Lansdown to Col. Bernard OranviHe. 

March 9th, 1722-3. 

My Dear Brother, 

I am heartily sorry for any mistakes which happen 
beWeen you and your neighbours, wishing for nothing 
so much as a good understanding between you. What 
I have always required from him, to which my circum- 
stances oblige me, is that he should make good to me m/y 
rent roll, as it was always in his predecessor's time. I 
wish with all my heart I could make greater allowances, 

' A collection of verses, by the University of Oxford, on the death of Sir 
Bevil Granville, was printed in 1643, and reprinted in 1684. To these are 
annexed King Charles's letters to Sir Bevil Granville, and to the county of 
Cornwal ; and a patent of Charles I., which grants to the county of Cornwal 

trade to Denmark, the great Duke of Muscovy, and the Levant. 


but as my misfortunes and my family have encreased I 
cannot go beyond what was then allowed. I have written 
to him to observe the same rule as in Cooper's time. If 
I could make it better I would, but, as the world goes, 
we must each of us submit to the present necessity, and 
consider one another in our turns as well as we can, with 
the best husbandry ; you are and shall ever be sure of 
me to the very utmost of my power ; all that 1 have to 
ask of you in return, is to consider with the same tender- 
ness my circumstances till I have more in my power, 
and whenever that happens, I will give you leave to re- 
proach me, if your condition should not mend whenever 
mine does. I have already thanked you for the plan you 
sent me, and gave you my reflexions upon the perform- 
ance, which I hope you received. 

Pray tell Madam Lyndsey that I rejoice at her resur- 
rection; she has been dead and buried with us above 
these twelve months, and I have been very angry with 
her brother, who is a principal person in this part of the 
world, for not going into mourning for her, for which I 
shall beg his pardon. I likewise congratulate the city 
of Bath for continuing under the direction of its old 
governour, whom our newspapers had sent of a long 
journey into the other world. Care shall be taken to 
equip my god-daughter as you desire with the very first 
opportunity of sending from hence. 

Believe me, my dear brother, there is nothing in my 
power but shall be always as much as I am yours. 

My wife is your humble servant. 


It is certain that Col. Granville not only lost immensely by 
his own attachment to the Stuarts, but that his brother, Lord 


Lansdown's influence being considerable, it was probable that it 
was exerted to strengthen his adherence to their cause, still 
more to the injury of his worldly affairs in his later days. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne OranviUe. 

London, 16th May, 1723. 

Though I have been a voyage to-day, I can't forbear 
writing two or three lines to my dear sister. Mrs. 
Carter and myself are just returned from Chelsea, where 
we found all friends well. Mr. Butler complains very 
much, but I believe he is a little hipped, for he grows fat 
and eats and sleeps well. Wlien we came home we had 
a mortification, for Mrs. Carter found a letter from Lady 
H. H. to offer her two tickets for the Opera, the loss of 
which makes Maddy grumble, but she is very well and 
very good to be contented with the accomodations she 
meets with here. She gives her service to you, and is at 
this time writing out the variations of Minuett Favorita. 
I am rejoiced to hear by your letter to her that my mama 
is pretty well ; if my good wishes had any influence her 
health would be perfect. This day my Aunt Clifford had 
an account from my cousin Carter of Braintree of old 
Mrs. Taverner's death : she died last Wednesday night. 

Lady Lansdowne is expected to-night or to-morrow 
morning. Miss Grace has quite recovered. Sir William 
Carew's^ lawsuit with Lord Coventry is just determined 
in favour of Sir William. The young Duchess of Marl- 
borough^ has settled on Bononcini for his life £500 

' Sir Wiliiam Carew, of Anthony, M.P. for Cornwall, married Ann, only 
daughter and heiress of Gilbert, 4th Earl of Coventry. On the Earl's decease 
in 1719, the title devolved upon "William Coventry, Esq., M.P. for Bridport, 
a descendant of the 1st Lord. 

2 The great Duke of Marlborough died June 16, 1722. His widow " tho 
old Duchess," survived till 1744. Their daughter Henrietta, wife of Francis 


a-year, provided he will not compose any more for the 
ungrateful Academy, who do not deserve he should enter- 
tain them, since they don't know how to value his works 
as they ought, and likewise told him he should " always 
be welcome to her table." Lady Francis Hamilton is soon 
to be married to Mr. Sanderson, a brother of Lord Scar- 
borough ; she is to have ten thousand pound down, and 
ten thousand pound after Lord Orkney's death. 

Yesterday I had a letter from Miss Legh, who asks 
me many questions about you : as, if you are in town ? if 
you mind your musick ? and to crown all if you are to be 
married soon ? she is to suffer penance in the country some 
time longer. The Countess^ is persecuted with lovers and 
with poetry by the penny post ; wit flows in abundance. 
When I see you, I shall be able to entertain you with some 
very extraordinary things, but I won't trust the post ; be- 
sides circumstances and several particulars must be told, 
which cannot so well be expressed in writing, and I hope 
we shall meet before the year is expired and tell old stories. 

But I must tell of a new entertainment I have had, 
which was the Masquerade last Tuesday. We dispatched 
Moll and Bess before us, and said not one word of our 
design of going, but as soon as they were gone we dressed 
ourselves in black dominos, took sober Mr. Cole with us, 
and went after them to the Masquerade, where we should 
have had pure sport, if Edgcombe, who was very quicJv- 
sighted in finding out the widow, had not betrayed us. 
I was very much pleased with it, and like it so well as 

Earl of Godolphin, succeeded by Act of Parliament to her father's dukedom, 
and is here mentioned as " the young Duchess." She died in 1733, wlicn her 
sister's son Charles, 5th Earl of Sunderland, became Duke of Marlborough. 

1 " Tlie Countess." Lady Sunderland, step-mother to the Earl of Sunderland, 
who became 2nd Duke of Marlborough. 


to hope one day to have the pleasure of going with you 
to one. I met with no smart people, and it was thin of 
company to what they used to be, but as it was the first 
I ever was at, I did not find any faults, but a great deal 
of- diversion : I will dress up your head, and am proud 
you should prefer my fingers before any other. Now I 
must have compassion on you and conclude, though if I 
had a foHo sheet before me, I believe I could fill it : I am 
sure it would not hold all I have to say, were I to tell 
you with how much affection 

1 am yours. 
Penny Penny. 



Alcander, upon some discontents occasioned by political 
affairs, went with his family to France the year before I 
came to town. I was much disappointed at not finding 
liim,for I loved him notwithstanding the unhappy set- 
tlement he had made for me, and I hoped for some 
redress from him. I at first lamented the absence of 
Laura,^ from whose friendship I expected much consola- 
tion, for she corresponded with me in the kindest manner 
imaginable, and professed a sincere affection for me, but 
I found her conduct since my leaving her, had been very 
indiscreet. I told you in one of my first letters that 
she was very handsome and gay ; she loved admiration — 
a most dangerous disposition in an agreeable woman, and 
proved a most ruinous one to Lady Lansdown. The 
libertine manners of France accomplished what her own 

* Lady Lansdowne. 
VOL. I. 


nature was too prone to. No woman could less justify her- 
self than she could. Alcander, whom she married for love, 
had every agreeable quality that could make a husband 
amiable and worthy of the most tender and constant affec- 
tion ; he was fond of her to excess, generous to extrava- 
gance, allowing her the command of all his fortune. He 
had learning and sense, far beyond her capacity and wit, 
with the greatest politeness and good-humour imaginable ; 
in one word, he was as fine and finished a gentleman, as 
in his own, or any other age, ever adorned his country. 

Alcander, had he married a woman of prudence, sense 
and virtue, would have made a shining figure in the 
world to his last moments; and Laura, had she married a 
man of a resolute arbitrary disposition, might have made a 
decent wife ; but she was extravagant, and given up to dis- 
sipation, and my uncle's open unsuspecting temper gave 
her full liberty to indulge the unbounded vanity of her 
heart. I have been very particular in her character, that 
you may the more plainly see in the progress of this 
little history, the dangers I escaped from her example 
and attempts upon me ; and when I came to consider 
what a risk I must have run under the conduct of such a 
woman, I was thankful to Providence for my present 
situation, and that reflection reconciled me more to it 
than all my reasoning before could possibly do : a strong 
argument for humble resignation to the dispensations of 
that Providence, which so often from the evils we endure 
produces the good we could not foresee. 

Though I was on my coming to London disappointed 
of two friends, on whom I had depended, I was not of the 
third. My aunt Valeria,^ whose friendship, virtue, and 

* Lady Stanley. 



good sense, guided and supported me through several diffi- 
cult paths, was the only person in the world to whom I 
ever made any complaint, and even from her, I concealed 
the greatest part of what I suffered, except where I wanted 
her direction to act properly, and then I was forced to tell 
her my difficulties without disguise. She had a great 
partiality for me ; she was infirm and unahle to go to 
public places, but was very careful wJio I went with: 
my being young and new, and soon known to be married 
to a man much older than myself, exposed me to the 
impertinence of many idle young men. It was not my 
turn to be pleased with such votaries, and the appre- 
hension of Gromio's jealousy kept me upon my guard, 
and by a dull cold behaviour I soon gave them to under- 
stand they were to expect no encouragement from me. 

Germanico,^ a foreigner, was not so easily repulsed. 
His figure was by no means agreeable, his manner forward 
and assured, and his age placed him amongst those that I 
could not imagine had any gallantry in their head — but 
was mistaken. He was 'often in my company ; the first 
time was at a ball given by one of the foreign ministers -^ 
he, unfortunately for me, engaged me to dance with him, 
and that gave him a pretence of talking to me whenever 
we afterwards met, but as I did not observe anything in 
his behaviour to me that could give me offence, I behaved 
towards him with the same indifference I did to my 
general acquaintance. He was to give an entertainment 
of music and supper to some relations and intimate 
friends of mine : he engaged them to bring me with them. 
I told Gromio and Valeria of the invitation, and they 
both encouraged me to go as I loved music, and the com- 

1 M. Fabrici, the Hanoverian Minister. ^ Danish Amhassador. 

G 2 


pany were agreeable to me ; accordingly I consented, and 
at nine o'clock we went. We were twelve in company : 
nothing could have been more gay and magnificent than 
the music and supper. When we sat down to table, it 
was proposed we should sit a man and a woman ; it was 
my place to sit the lower end of the table, and Germanico 
sat next to me, but I soon wished for another neighbour. 
He stared at me the whole night, and put me so much out 
of countenance, that I was ready to cry : he soon checked 
all my pleasure at the entertainment, the music sounded 
harsh, and ever3^thing appeared disagreeable. I showed 
all the signs of discontent I could, enquired if my chair 
was come, and looked at my watch twenty times ; at last, 
to my relief, the company broke up. I took a hood out 
of my pocket to put on, and Gernianico gave me a paper 
which he said I had dropped in taking out my hood : he 
led me to my chair, squeezed me by the hand and offered 
to kiss it, but I snatched it from him with the highest 
resentment : I was indeed greatly offended at his imper- 
tinence, and heartily repented of my supping there. 

I communicated what had passed to Valeria, who advised 
me to avoid him as much as possible, which I did by 
keeping from all public places, or wherever I thought it 
might be probable for me to meet him. I abhorred the 
wretch and could not forgive his presumption, but how 
was my detestation of him increased a day or two after 
this odious supper, when, sorting some papers I had in 
my pocket, I found a letter from Germanico, with a pas- 
sionate declaration of love ! I tlu'cw it into the fire with 
the utmost indignation. This was the paper which he 
pretended I had dropt from my pocket, which I (unprac- 
tisecl in such arts) took without the least suspicion. 


These perplexities abroad and discontents at home, 
made me wish myself in a place of more solitude, and 
even solicit Groraio to return to Averno, where at least 
I should pass my time with fewer difficulties, though not 
with more happiness. He promised me from month to 
month he would go, but retirement was not then to bo 
my lot. A few months after this I went down to my 
father's house in the country, Gromio was detained in 
town upon business ; I was transported once more 
to see the dear Farm, and alas ! it was hut once more I My 
sister was now grown a very reasonable and entertaining 
companion though very young : she had a lively genius, 
improved beyond her years, loved reading, and had an 
excellent memory. I was surprized at her understanding, 
having never before attended to her but as to a child, 
and the goodness of her heart, and the delicacy of her 
sentiments delighted me still more. From that time I had 
a perfect confidence in her, told her some of my distresses, 
and found great consolation and relief to my mind by 
this opening of my heart, and from her great tenderness 
and friendship for me. 

Three months of felicity soon passed over caressed and 
indulged by the most amiable parents in the world, but 
this happy scene was closed by a most severe affliction — 
the death of my dear father! That misfortune dispersed us 
all : my brother was sent for post, on this sad occasion. 
My mother could not bear to remain in a place where 
she had gone through so melancholy a scene ; she removed 
to a town ^ about twelve miles from the Farm, where she 
has been settled ever since. She took my sister with 
her, my brother returned with us to London ; business 

* Gloucester. 


called him and duty me, for Gromio began to resent my 
staying so long ; but one good thing happened in my 
absence — the brother and sister quarrelled and parted. 

I shall be, my dear friend, surprised if your patience 
be not exhausted by this time ; I suspect it is, and beg 
you will own it frankly, and you will oblige yours, 

&c., &c. 

George Lord Lansdown to his Niece^ Mrs. Pcndarves. 

Dec. 22ua, 1723. 

My Dearest Niece, 

I have both your letters at the same time of the 12 1st 
and 30th of November your style this very day, the post 
coming in so late, that I have but just a moment to 
acknowledge the receipt of them. If I had received your 
first letter without the last, I should indeed liave suf- 
fered a great deal, but the comfort which one brought, 
has prevented the pain which the other would have 
given. I beg you to assure my brother of my tenderest 
wishes for his health ; I hope it will please God to give 
us life to come together again with some comfort. He 
and his may be always assured of my utmost afiection. 
Pray make my compliments to my sister and my niece. 
The little time I have to own the receipt of your letters is 
what I would not omit, though it allows me no more than 
just to assure you, my brother and family, of my being 
eternally, with the truest and most tender affection, 
My dear niece, your most affectionate 

uncle and most faithful servant, 

I hope my old friend Pen is always in good health. 


Lord Lanadown to Mrs. Pendarves. 

Dec. 31, 1723. 

Dear Niece, 

It grieves me that tlie first time of my saluting 
you in this manner, should be upon so melancholy an 
occasion as the death of so tender a father : my heart 
joins with you in all the affliction you feel. Comfort 
your poor mother, let that be your care. As far as it 
shall be in my power to be instead of a father to you all 
I will. Believe me. with all truth and tenderness. 

My dear niece, 

Your most affectionate uncle, 

Sir John Stanley to Mrs. Pendarves, at BucTdands. 

London, lOtb Dec. 1723. 


No body can be more concerned at the great 
loss which I fear before this time you have had at 
Bucklands : it could be no surprise from the nature of the 
distemper, and the violence of the attack, and therefore 
I hope my sister and you were better prepared for it. I 
have that opinion both of your good understandings and 
true piety, that you will endeavour to be easy under this 
stroke of Providence, which though heavy when it comes, 
yet we know must fall on everybody in their turn. My 
wife is so much out of order that I have not ventured to 
let her know the worst, though I have prepared her for 
it ; she knows notliing of the express you sent ; and your 
brother's going down I told her was by Sir Anthony 


Westcomb's advice and mine ; it was certainly right, and 
so good a son and brother must be a comfort to you. 

I am, madam, 
Your most obedient and most humble servant, 

J. Stanley. 

Lady Lansdown to Barnard Qranvilk, Esq. 

Jan, Ist, 1724, 

Dear Nephew, 

You can't imagine how sincerely I am concerned 
for the loss that you have made of so good a father : I 
am the more concerned, knowing what it is for a dutyfull 
child to lose a tender father ; and enter into your loss 
more sensibly than another, having some years past made 
the same loss. But you have a comfort left, which is an 
uncle that you are sure will he a father to you in 
worldly affairs, and he would take it very kindly of 
you, that after you have seen which way your mother 
is, if you would make him a visit on this side of the 
water, when you have taken due care of the poor 
widow and of your sister Anne. 

You that know your uncle so well, you may imagine 
how much concerned he is for the death of your father, 
after having lived so long well together. I hope that I 
have no occasion to assure you of my friendship ; all I 
wish is that it was more in my power to show you how 
much I am, and shall always be, my dear nephew, 

Your most faithful friend, 
M. Lansdowne. 




Gromio, who really loved me, was mucli concerned to 
see me so melancholy on the loss of my father, but that 
was no consolation to me. The summer following he 
proposed going to Windsor for a month. I liked the 
proposal very well, and we took lodging facing the gs^te 
that goes into the Little Park : the situation was plea- 
sant, having a view of the Park from the upper windows. 
Gromio was taken ill with the gout the day we came 
there. I used to rise very early in the morning to walk 
in the Great Park, which joined to the garden of our 
house, attended by my maid and man. I chose to walk 
at that early hour to avoid company, as the Court was at 
that time at Windsor. 

Stella,^ a lady much distinguished and in favour at 
Court, who has she\vn me on many occasions much 
civility, and with whom I was often engaged on musical 
parties, which we both loved, and in which she excelled, 
had at this time an apartment in the palace at Windsor. 
She heard of my being there by a particular accident, for 
Gromio did not design it should be known; but an 
artist,^ famous for making musical clocks,^ who was 

' Lady WalsingJiam, niece to the Duchess of Kendal, afterwards Lady 
Chesterfield. Melusinda de Schulemberg, created by King George- the First 
a peeress for life in her own right, April 7, 1722, as Baroness of Aldborough 
and Countess of Walsingham. 

2 Pinchbeck. 

3 In an old book these lines were recollected by the Baroness de Bunsen on 
hearing this MS. read : 

" Sly Chinese toys must go to pot, 
My Deards, my Pinchbecks, and what not." 
" Deard " was a famous jeweller, whose descendant. Miss Deard, died at 
Abergavenny, South Wales, in the present century. (1859.) 


recommended to me for his great skill, and at whose 
house I had often been entertained with his works, 
heard I was at Windsor, and followed me, that I might 
speak in his favour to Stella : he brought with him one 
of his fine clocks, and I could not refuse his request. 
Stella, as soon as she heard of my being in her neigh- 
bourhood, came to see me, and appointed a day for my 
drinking tea with her. I went according to the appoint- 
ment, but had the vexation of finding Germanico there. 
I endeavoured to show him, by my cool behaviour, that 
my thoughts of him were still the same, and that I had 
a thorough contempt for him. Stella was extremely 
obliging to me, and desired to see me often, and she 
asked me if I should like to meet her in the Little Park. 
I said I should, and she named the next day, in the cool 
of the evening ; I was very glad of that liberty, as it 
appeared with so much beauty to me out of my chamber 
window, that I had often wished for the privilege of 
walking there. 

The next day, at six in the afternoon, a servant came 
to tell me the Park door was open, and Stella waited for 
me, upon which I immediately went. As soon as I got 
within the gate the servant locked me in. I walked up 
and down towards the Castle, expecting to find Stella in 
Q. E.'s Walk ; when, to my equal surprise, I saw only 
Germanico ! I started back with an intent to return ; but 
recollecting that the gate was locked, I stopped for some 
minutes. I soon apprehended this was a plot of the 
audacious wretch's contrivance, and a thousand fears 
crowded into my mind : however, I thought it best to 
walk towards him with some confidence, though I 
trembled so much I could liardly keep my feet. He 


came up to me and threw himself upon his knees, 
holding my petticoat, and begged I would forgive the 
stratagem he had made use of, for an opportunity of 
declaring how miserable he was on my account. I grew 
so frightened and so angry, that I hardly heard what he 
said, nor can I exactly recollect what I said to him, in 
the vast confusion I was in. He found it was in vain for 
him to expect any favour from me, but still he would not 
let me go. At last I was so provoked, that I assured 
him that " the King should be made acquainted with his 
presumption ; that if Stella would not do me that 
justice, / had fnemls tliat would not bear to have me 
insulted and persecuted in such a manner ; and that if 
lie did not instantly go and acquaint Stella of my being 
there, I would go up to the windows of the apartment 
where I knew the King sat after dinner, and should 
not scruple making my complaint of him aloud." 

He was alarmed at finding me so resolute (for he ex- 
pected a dove instead of a tiger), and he asked my pardon, 
most submissively, for what had past, and entreated me, 
if I had any humanity, that I would not let his be- 
haviour be kno^vn to the King, for if it were he should 
be ruined. I told him if he would immediately bring 
SteUa into the walk where I was, and never speak to me 
again, or even bow to me, I would not expose him. 

This conversation lasted above an hour; and what 
added to my distress was that the walk we were in faced 
the chamber-window where Gromio always sat. What a 
scene would it have been for him to have seen Ger- 
manico upon his knees, holding me by the petticoat ! 
But my fears were groundless. When SteUa came she 
chid Germanico for not sooner bringing her word of my 


being in the Park, and said she " did not expect me till 
the cool of the evening." I kept my word with Ger- 
manico, and he kept his with me, and I think we never 
'\_ met but once after that. Whilst I was walking with 
Stella, I observed she looked back very often, as if she 
expected somebody, and at last exprest a surprize that 
" the King was not come into the Park, as he told her he 
would." I was alarmed at this, not desiring to be intro- 
duced to His Majesty in so improper a manner, not 
having been at Court, and having observed before that 
some pains had been taken to bring me into his way, 
though in vain, T hastened out of the Park as soon as I 
could, with civility, not without some dread that what 
had past might have been observed to my disadvantage ; 
but I happily found to the contrary. 

I soon found Windsor too public a place for me to live 
in with any comfort. Gromio could never walk out ; and 
to be confined the whole day to a little close lodging, in 
one of the hottest seasons that ever was felt, was almost 
insupportable ; and when I went out I was embarrassed 
with more company than was either agreeable or proper 
for me to allow. I made myself a close prisoner the last 
week I staid, and was glad to be set at liberty by going to 
my own house in town. Here I must rest. Adieu ! 



Since you say positively it is your desire I should 
proceed, I will teaze you no more with excuses. As I 
told you in my last I avoided all opportunities of meet- 


ing with Germanico. About that time my aunt Laura vj^ 
came to England. I went to wait upon her as soon as I 
heard of her arrival ; she was overjoyed to see me, and 
brought me a letter from Alcander, wherein he expressed 
the fondest affection for his wife, and enjoined me to 
show her all imaginable respect. I endeavored to acquit 
myself in the best manner I was able ; she paid great 
court to me, her beauty was in its decline, but her 
love of admiration, and her coquet disposition remained 
in all its strength. I was upon my guard, as her repu- 
tation had suffered a great deal, and her behaviour soon 
confirmed all I had heard. The company I met at her 
house were free libertine people, and I was often shocked. 
I once took courage, told her of my opinion and what 
the world said of her conduct ; she carried it oflf with a 
laugh, but never forgave it, and from that day made use 
of all her arts to draw me into a share in her misconduct. 
Clario,^ a gay flattering audacious Frenchman, was the 
person she pitched upon to serve her purpose. He had 
for some time been her humble servant, but they were 
now tired of each other. I met him one morning at her 
toilette, the rendezvous of idle flatterers ; he by her 
encouragement soon grew acquainted with me. The 
next time I met him, I found it time to double my re- 
serve, but that signfied Httle, I was turned into ridicule 
by Laura and Clario, and at last he came to an open 
profession of his having a violent passion for me ; upon 
which I expressed great resentment to Laura for allow- 
ing me to be so improperly treated in her house, and 
gave him to understand I should by no means allow of 
such freedom : several weeks past, and I neither went 

» Earl of Clare. 


to Laura nor to any place where I thought Clario would 
probably be. Great part of that time Gromio was con- 
fined with the gout, at which time I never left him ; one 
day when I was sitting by his bedside, reading to him, 
my servant brought me a letter ; I opened it ; guess at 
my vexation when I found it came from Clario ! It 
was written in French with the true spirit of a libertine 
Frenchman. In it he deplored my unhappy situation 
in being nurse to an old man, and declared most passion- 
ately his admiration of me, and that he could teach me 
better lessons than I found in romances which he knew 
I was fond of reading and studied, which made me so 
shy and reserved, so cruel and haughty ; and if I would 
allow myself to be more natural, I should be more agre- 
able. To this effect was his elaborate billet composed, 
and stuffed with high-flown compliments to me, all which 
I despised as much as I detested the author. 

Luckily for me Gromio was fallen asleep with my read- 
ing, and the servant in bringing in the letter did not 
awake him. I went out and enquired who brought it, and 
was shocked when they told me " a servant of Laura's." I 
bid them tell the servant " the letter required no answer." 
If I had followed the dictates of my resentment at that 
time, I should not have given so quiet an answer, but I 
was afraid of exposing Laura : I resolved to go no more to 
her house on any account, and was above two months 
without seeing her. At last Gromio was surprised I 
never went there, and said I should disoblige my uncle, 
and to avoid his questioning me too closely I went to see 
her one day when I heard she was not well. I found 
her alone, and I took the opportunity of reproaching her 
severely for allowing Clario to behave himself towards 


me as lie had done : she laughed at my prudery as she 
called it, and said I was a fool. Immediately Clario came 
into the room and I rose to be gone, upon which she 
ordered him to lock the doors, which he did, and then 
pretended to be very humble and respectful. I entreated 
Laura to let me go — I told her I was engaged and must 
go — all to no purpose : she vowed I should not go out of 
her house till after supper, rang for a servant to send 
away my coach, and kept me by violence. It was by 
this time past nine, and the company she expected came. 
When I found there was to be a great deal of company 
I grew more composed, but did not open my lips to 
speak one word. 

Clario kept me in continual confusion all the evening 
with his particular attention to me, though the rest of 
the company were so much engaged with each other they 
attended to nothing else, but had they observed Clario 
it would not have offended them as it did me, their won- 
der would have been at my uneasiness, for he was thought 
an Adonis by that set of ladies, but in my eyes he was 
most despicable, and excessively vain of his person and 
silly. When supper was over the gaiety of the company 
increased, and with it my uneasiness ; they sang French 
catches, which gave me unspeakable offence, and when 
this was over, one of the ladies proposed that the same 
party should meet at her house, and desired a day might 
l3e named ; which was accordingly done and agreed to by 
all but me. I said I was engaged; another day was 
named — I was still engaged ; a third day was named, and 
then I resolutely said " I was engaged for as many days as 
she could name ;" glad of the opportunity of showing my 
detestation of so dangerous a society. Upon this they 


immediately broke up, and we all went to our different 
homes. Clario, by tLe treachery of Laura, stole a slight 
ring from me, which I put off when I washed my hands 
after supper : it gave me some vexation, not knowing 
what boast or ill use he might make of it, but from that 
day I never saw more of him, but that he left England 
in a few days. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville^ at the Deanery, Oloster. 

March 28tli, 1724. 

Dear Sister, 

You should, if you keep strictly to the rules of 
mourning, wear your shammy gloves two months longer, 
but in the country if it is more convenient to you, you 
may wear black silk ; you might have worn black ear- 
ings and necklace these two months. You desire some 
sprigs for working a gown, which I will send you, though 
my fancy is not a good one. 

Yesterday I was to see the bride my lady Walpole^ 
who was married the day before. She was excessively fine, 
in the handsomest and richest gold and white stuff that 
ever I saw, a fine point head, and very fine brilliant ear- 
ings and cross. Mrs. EoUe was in a pink and silver 
lutestring, and Mrs. Walpole in a white and gold and 
silver, but not so pretty as Mrs. Rolle's. I saw the 
bridegroom in his equipage, w^hich was very fine ; the 
liveries are extravagantly so, and everything else in 

' Margaret Rolle, married in 1724 to Lord Walpole, afterwards 2nd Earl of 
Orford. She married, secondly, the Hon. Sewallis Shirley, and in the year 
1751 became in her own right Baroness Clinton. 

"Mr. Harris, who married Lady Walpole's mother," is mentioned by Horace 
"Walpole in a letter to Sir Horace Mann, dated July 7, 1742. 


proportion. She looked very smiling and well pleased, 
and notwithstanding the vast crowd of people that came 
to wish her joy, was not in the least out of countenance. 
Every body had favours that went, men and women : they 
are silver gauze six bows, and eight of gold narrow 
ribbon in the middle : they cost a guinea a piece ; eight 
hundred has already been disposed of. Those the King, 
prince, princess, and the young princesses had, were gold 
ribbon embroidered ; they were six guineas a piece, I hope 
you was merry at your ball : I should have been glad to 
have made one among you. I expect Mrs. Hyde every 
minute. Mr. Pendarves is out of order with the gout, 
my Aunt Stanley with a bad cold. My humble duty to 
my mother, and service to, &c. 

I am, my dear sister. 

Most affectionately yours, 
M. Pendarves. 

Mr. Edcombe ^ lays close siege to Betty Tichborne,* 
but the town will have it, that it is for the sake of the 
widoic.^ We walked in the park to-day, all the world 
there. The club is pestered with penny post love 
letters, but cannot guess from whence they come, that is, 
those that are at liberty to receive them, as the Countess 
Bess, and Gunpowder. 

* " Mr. Edcombe,''' qiiery Edgcombe. 

2 " Betty Tichhome,'' sister to Countess of Sunderland. 

' " The widow," the Cbuntess of Sunderland. 


VOL. I. H 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Beaufort Buildings, 30th May, 1724. 

You are very unjust to yourself, my dearest sister, in 
saying you have it not in your power to make your 
letters agreeable : they are so to me more than I can ex- 
press, and I shall always think my time well employed 
in writing to you, when in return I have so much plea- 
sure as the favour of your last letter gave me. When I 
am writing to you I am so intent on the subject, that 
I forget all things but yourself, and by that means 
you can never fail of a long letter from me, for I 
never grow weary ; and when I have finished my letter, 
I am sorry to think the conversation is broke oiF, for 
imperfect as it is, it gives me more satisfaction than any 
personal one that I meet with here. Though so many hills 
and vales separate our bodies, thought (that is free and 
unlimited) makes up in some measure that misfortune, 
and though my eyes are shut, I see my dearest sister in 
my dreams. I talked with you all last night and was 
mortified when the vision fled. 

I thank you for your prayers, and hope they will be 
heard, and then I shall see you surrounded with blessings 
and the richest gifts of Providence, which will be happi- 
ness in excess to me. 

I do not wonder the widower has forsaken college 
since the person he paid his adorations to is not there. 

Mr. Pendarves is still at Chelsea, lame with the gout 
in his foot : we were there yesterday. My Aunt Clifford 
complained of the gout in her knees, but she looks very 
well, and was very cheerful. Mr. Butler rides every 
morning to drink the waters at Acton : he has found 


benefit by tbem already. The cut paper I will get framed 
and mended, and send them by Mrs. Carter. 

There was a great many fine clothes on the birthday. 
Lady Sunderland^ was very fine and very genteel. Her 
clothes were the finest pale blue and pink, very richly 
flowered in a running pattern of silver frosted and tissue 
with a little white, a new Brussels head, and Lady 
Oxford's jewels. Bess^ had on a pale lemon-coloured 
lutestring and look'd like a witch, at least her sister's 
good looks were no advantage to her. I was at Lady 
Carteret's^ toilette, whose clothes were pretty, pale straw 
lutestring and flowered with silver, and new Brussels 
head. Lady Lansdown did not go, but Lord Wey- 
mouth* and Mademoiselle Lansdown ^ went, their clothes 
was very handsome. She danced at Court with great 
applause. I did design making my letter longer, but 
Lady Carteret has just sent to me to go to the opera with 

M. Pendarves. 

> Widow of Charles, 3rd Earl of Sunderland, the eminent statesman. 

- Elizabeth Tichboume, sister to Lady Simderlaud. 

^ "Frances, born March 6, 1694, only daughter of Sir Robert Worsley, 
Bart., by his wife, Frances, only daughter of Thomas Lord Viscount Wey- 
mouth, by Frances, eldest daughter of Heneage Earl of Winchelsea, by 
the Lady Mary his wife, eldest daughter of William Duke of Somerset, 
and the Lady Frances, his duchess, eldest daughter of the famous Robert 
Devereux, Earl of Essex, the favourite of Queen Elizabeth." — Collins, vol. iii. 
p. 451. Frances Worsley was married at Longleat, October 17, 1710, to 
John Lord Carteret, afterwards Earl Granville. 

* Thomas, 2nd Viscount Weymouth, the son of Lady Lansdown, by her 
first marriage with Mr. Thynne. 

* The Hon. Anne Granville, eldest daughter of George Lord Lansdown. 

H 2 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

December 12th, 1724. 

Dear Sister, 

Nothing but a wedding could excuse my having 
been so long silent. Last Wednesday Lady Sun- 
derland made Sir Eobert Sutton ^ the happy man ; she 
was not to have married till Thursday, and the wedding 
was to be kept at Writtle-Park, but Col. Stanley is so 
very ill, that it is thought he cannot recover. With 
much persuasion they prevailed with the young Countess 
to be married the day she was. I was at the supper : 
there was nobody there besides Mrs. Titchborne and my- 
self, except Lord and Lady Delawarr.'^ All of us met 
there and dined with them next day. Her new house 
is in George Street by Hanover Square ; is a very good 
one, and furnished with a mighty good taste. She has 
not made her many suits of clothes, because she had a 
great many fine ones by her. Her laces are all very fine. 

Moll Bramston has been confined with her youngest 
sister, who is just recovered of the small pox, and has had 
it very favourably ; so she has had no sport with us. Sir 
Eobert has presented Lady Sutton with earrings, cross, and 
girdle buckle, the tops of the earrings are middling bril- 
liants, the drops are pink colour diamonds of a prodigious 
size, the cross and buckle are very fine brilliants. I 
hope she will be very happy j I think there is a great 

^ Sir Robert Sutton, K.B., born in 1671 ; a diplomatist of the first rank ; 
a Privy Councillor, and M.P. for the county of Nottingham. — Burke. 

2 John Lord Delawarr, bom April 4th, 1693, who filled many imfiortaiit 
public posts during the reigns of George I. and George II. ; married, first, the 
Lady Charlotte Macarthy, daughter of Donaugh Earl of Clancarty, and of 
his wife. Lady Mary Spencer, 2nd daughter of Robert Earl of Sunderland. 
—See Collins, vol. v. 1756, pp. 40-1. 


appearance of her being so : her house is charmingly 
furnished with pictures, glasses, tapestry, and damask, 
all superfine in their kind. Artaxerxes is Hked by most 
people. I think there are some very pretty things in 
it. I have bespoke three of the best songs in it. I will 
copy them, and send them to Mrs. Carter as soon as I 
have them. Enclosed is a song out of Tamerlane, which 
is a favourita. 

I will answer Mrs. Carter's questions about her mourn- 
ing to you. I think her in the right in buying a white 
satin to top her black, for the reasons she gives me ; but 
that she can only wear as a nightgown, and if she was 
in town she should wear only mourning when she is 
dressed, but in the country that will not be minded, 
white gloves, coloured fan and coloured shoes, and edgings 
if she pleases, and black or white short apron and girdle, 
which she likes best. My mama must not wear black 
handkerchiefs with her second year's mourning. Mr. 
Pendarves is confined with the gout in his foot : he 
has had a very violent cold, but it is now pretty well 

There will be no masquerades till after Xtmas. I 
have leave to go to one or two, but one will content 
me. I was to see the opera of Dioclesian, but was 
very much disappointed, for instead of Purcell's musick 
which I expected, we had Papuch's,^ and very humdrum 

^ Dr. John Christopher Pepusch was born at Berlin in 1667. He came to 
England about 1700, where he died in 1752. About the year 1724 Dr. 
Berkeley, afterwards bishop of Cloyne, having formed a plan for erecting a 
college in the Bermuda Islands, engaged Dr. Pepusch as one of the 
members of the projected establishment. He and his associates embarked 
for the place of their destination; but the ship was wrecked, and the 
undertaking abandoned. His princii^al com^wsitions are twelve cantatas, 


it was ; indeed I never was so tired with anything in my 
life. The performers were, Mrs. Barbier/ Mrs. Chambers, 
(a scholar of Margarettas), Legard and old Leveridge. 
Mr. Eich promises the town a great many fine things at 
the new house this winter. There is a great curiosity 
set up in one of the rooms in the Opera house, and no- 
body is admitted to see it under a guinea a piece, 'tis the 
Temple of Solomon ; but it is too much money for me to 
bestow only to see a model that may be no more like 
the original than like St. Peter's at Rome ! Lady Lans- 
downe just now sent me a ticket for the opera, but I have 
resisted the temptation, and stay at home to nurse. 

I want to know how you hke your things. Your 
laces look very grey, but they are Mrs. C.'s doing ; the 
English head is not weU dressed up, but I had not time 
to alter, for they came home but just before they were 
packed up. I am afraid Miss Matt will not like her 
fan, but tell her quadrille is all the mode, and the sticks 
were mended in so many places that they told me they 
did not deserve a better mount ; the price was three and 
sixpence. I am very happy in the good account I have 
of my dear mama. 

Mrs. Ptndarves to Mrs. Anne OranviUe, 

February 9th and 11th, 1724-5. 

I was interrupted by Lady Peyton ^ and her daughters, 

and he assisted Gay to select the national airs in The Beggars' Opera, to 
■which he composed basses ; he wrote also an overture to the opera. Hogarth's 
Musical History. 

* Mrs. Baibier is mentioned by Schcelcher as having sung in 1713, in the 
opera of " Rinaldo." Aaron Hill wrote the libretto of this opera, and Rossi 
translated it into Italian. 

2 Anne, daughter of George Dash wood, Esq., and wife of Sir Tewster 
Peyton, of Doddington, Cambridgeshire, Bart. 


who called on me to go to hear the musical clock, and 
would take no denyal ; it is a new one the man has just 
finished, and a complete piece of ingenuity as ever I saw ; 
it plays twenty-four tunes with as much exactness as it 
is possible for them to be played in concert, the price of 
it is five hundred pound. He was in hopes o^ disposing of 
it to the King for Prince Frederick. 

I am very glad you have taken a fancy to drawing, 
you will find a great deal of entertainment in it. By the 
time I shall make you a visit, you will be able to be 
my mistress, that is supposing you to be a person of a 
quick apprehension, for I hope to be with you by t]j.e 
time I proposed in my last letter. I was last Sunday at 
Chelsea : my Aunt Clifibrd looks extreme well, and was 
very cheerful, so was the rest of our friends there. Mr. 
Pendarves is stiU with them, and will stay there two or 
three days longer. We drank all your healths and wished 
you with us, but vain are wishes, or my dear Nanelia and 
I had not been so long divided ! but as fortune some- 
times smiles as well as frowns, I comfort myself with the 
expectation of her smiles, and as the French motto says 
" L'esperance me console." 

L. L. lives a sad life, and- no hopes of a reformation. 
I have avoided her company as much as possible, but 
shall still more ; she is a woman of unbounded extrava- 
gance in every respect, and I am afraid will be abandoned 
soon by all her acquaintance. I can't say I wish her to 
return from whence she came, for some certain reasons 
you may guess, but I wish her far from London, and 
that I was not so much a favourite as I am. She makes 
as great a rout with me, as if she could not live with- 
out me, and T am at a loss how to disentangle myself 


from her caresses, for it is dangerous to provoke a ve- 
nomous tongue. 

Lady Oxford's ^ coming to town is both a pleasure and 
vexation. I shall be extremely glad to see her, having a 
very sincere value for her, but then the opera-box that's 
surrendered, Lnd now I must bid adieu to the charming 
sociable Tuesday nights, but have not much reason to 
repine, for I have only missed three Tuesdays the whole 
opera season. 

Miss Bell Dunch^ was married last week to Mr. 
Tomson. How Mr. Harvey and his love goes on I don't 
hear, nor any pretty thing. The town is stupid, and no 
sort of entertaining conversation stirring. There's a re- 
markable accident has happened lately to a famous sur- 
geon who's name I think was St. Andre. A man came 
to him about a week ago, and told him he must go with 
him to a person who was in distress for him, and that he 
must immediately follow him, which he did, and was led 
through so many by-lanes and alleys that he did not know 
in what part of the town he was. He was conducted 
into a room where there was a woman who was very ill : 
he writ down a perscription for her, and was hand- 

* Henrietta Cavendish Holies, only child and heiress of John Duke of 
Newcastle. She married, October 31, 1713, Edward, 2nd Earl of Oxford and 
Mortimer. He died June 1741. The Countess died December 8, 1755. Their 
only child and heiress was Margaret Cavendish Harley, born February 11, 1714, 
and married July 11, 1734, to William, 2nd Duke of Portland. She was one 
of the early friends of Mary Granville, and in later life the most intimate 
friend of Mrs. Delany. 

^ " Arabella, the wife of Edward Thompson, Esq., one of the daughters and 
co-heiress of Edmund Dunch, Esq. The others were the Duchess of Man- 
chester and Lady Oxendon." See Lord Wharncliffe's note to Lady Mary 
Wortley Montagu's " Elegy on Mrs. Thompson,'' vol. iii. of her letters and 
works. 1837. The Dimch family were of Wittenham, Berks. In j the above 
work, may be found an account of the marriage of Mr. Tliompson of Marsdcn 
and Miss Arabella Dunch. The date there given is February 6, 1725. 


somely paid ; tlien the man desired him to drink a glass of 
wine, which he refused doing, upon which the man seemed 
to be affronted, so to reconcile matters, the surgeon said 
he would drink. The man drank to him in a glass of wine, 
and gave him a dram of cherry brandy, and then conveyed 
him away in the same manner. 

{The succeeding page of this letter, with the sequel of this ad- 
venture, has not been found.) 



The first year of my coming to London, Gromio intro- 
duced me to the acquaintance of a young lady, with whose 
husband he was very intimate. Her innocent agreeable 
manner and good humour, soon engaged me to love her, 
and created a friendship between us that has never ceased. 
She was extremely handsome, and seemed to be the only 
person ignorant of it. She was of a noble family, married 
to a man of very moderate fortune. Her name was 
Charlotte. ^ By being often at her house, I became ac- 
quainted with her brother Herminius,^ a young man in 
great esteem and fashion at that time, very handsome, 
genteel, polite and unaffected. He was bom to a very 
considerable fortune, and was possest of it as soon as he 
came of age, but was as little presuming on the advan- 
tages he had from fortune, as on those he had from 
nature. He had had the education bestowed on men of 
his rank, where generally speaking the embelHshing the 
person and polishing the manners is thought more mate- 

' Mrs. Hyde, sister of Lord Baltimore. 
- Henninius, Lord Baltimore 


rial than cultivating the understanding, and the pretty 
gentleman was preferred to the fine gentleman. I never 
went to Charlotte, that I did not find Herminius. He 
soon ingratiated himself so much with Gromio as to 
become a great favourite, who often commended him to 
me, and invited him to his house, which invitation was 
readily accepted. Herminius behaved with the greatest 
respect imaginable, and with so much reserve that I had 
not the least suspicion of his having any particular 
attachment to me, but I was cautious in my behaviour 
towards him, and feared his growing particular, but from 
a difierent motive to what I had feared it in others. I 
thought him more agreeable than anybody I had ever 
known, and consequently more dangerous. Four years 
I passed in this manner, from the time of my coming 
from Averno, and I have related to you all the material 
circumstances I can recollect, three years of which time 
I was acquainted with Herminius ; and in all that time, 
though we often met, he never" said a word that could 
offend me, or give me just reason to avoid his company. 
I now pass over many incidents that perhaps might 
amuse you, but I have already said so much, that I study 
to abridge what I have to relate. 

After having been married seven years I became a 
widow, a state you may believe (after the sincere con- 
fessions I have made) not unwelcome, but the manner of 
Gromio's death was so shocking, that I cannot to this 
hour recollect it without horror. The day before he died 
we were engaged separately, he to his usual set, I to a 
particular friend with whom I past much of my time, 
and to whose prudent judgment and sincere friendship I 
had many obligations. We had been friends from children, 


and she well deserves to be mentioned with the highest 
honour, as she was possest of every virtue that could make 
her dear to intimate friends, and admired and esteemed by 
everybody ; but this subject opens a recent wound not yet 
healed, and you are no stranger to Placidia's ' excellences, 
whose loss I shall ever deplore. But to return : I had that 
day a kind of foreknowledge of what was to happen. The 
night before, shocking dreams, and all the day following 
a dread on my spirits, which I could not get the better 
of. Placidia had made me promise to sup with her, but 
I found myself so unaccountably opprest, that as soon as 
supper came on the table, I sent for a chair and went home. 

Gromio had got home just before me. He said 
many kind things to me on my having made him ** a 
good wife, and tcished he might live to reward me." I never 
knew him say so much on that subject.^ He went to bed 
between eleven and twelve. I slept very little that night. 
He slept (as usual) very uneasily, drawing his breath with 
great difficulty. I did not close my eyes till past four and 
then slept till seven. I rung my bell, my servant came 
and opened the window shutter ; I stepped softly for fear 
of awaking Gromio, and as I put by the curtain to get 
up, how terrified was I, when looking at him, I saw him 
quite black in the face ! At first I thought him in a fit, 
but immediately it struck me he was dead I 

I ran screaming out of my room, almost out of my 
senses ; my servant (for I was not at this instant capable 

1 Lady Sunderland. The date of the death of Lady Sunderland does not 
appear in any extinct Peerage which has been refeiTed to. 

2 Mr. Pendarves also expressed his desire that she would ring the bell that 
he misht sign his will, after which he should feel happier. Mrs. Pendarves, 
thinkin<^ he was low, begged him to defer it till the next day. This was 
mentioned by Mrs. Delauy to the Editor's mother. 



of thinking of anything but the terror that had seized me), 
sent for a lady/ an old friend of mine, who luckily lived 
in the same street ; she came immediately. Physicians and 
surgeons were sent for, but too late — they judged he had 
been dead about two hours. ^ This is too dismal a scene 
to dwell longer upon ! My friends were all sent to. 
Valeria insisted on my going home with her, which I did, 
and which so offended Laura, (who had in a very earnest 
and friendly manner pressed me to come to her), that I 

* Mrs. Catherine Dashwood, the Delia of Hammond the poet. Lord Hervey 
in her name wrote an answer to one of Hammond's love elegies. Mr. 
Croker states that Lady Cork considered that poet to have died for love. 
Mrs. C. Dashwood survived him thirty-five years, and died herself in 1779, 
bedchamber woman to Queen Charlotte, 

2 In Davies Gilbert's ' Parochial History of Cornwall,' the following notice 
is given of Mr. Pendarves's death from the manuscripts of Mr. Tonkin, the 
Cornish antiquarian, who was an intimate friend of his. It is worthy of 
remark that the character here given of him by this old and partial friend 
corroborates what was said by his unhappy wife, who bore testimony to his 
having originally had a good temper, and alludes to the sensible expiession of 
his countenance, and the best jiroof of his steady adherence to the interests of 
the political party to which he was attached, was his marriage with Mary 

Mr. Tonkin writes as follows : — 

" Alexander Pendarves, Esq., of Roscrow, died in 1726 [query 1724] very 
suddenly at his house, in London, being then a burgess for the town of Laun- 
ceston. His death was a great surprise to all his friends, and especially to me, 
with whom I had taken a hearty breakfast that very morning at my aunt 
Vincent's, at Chelsea. I must add that on the Sunday before he and I bore 
up the pall to John Goodall, of Fowey, Esq., buried in St. Margaret's, West- 
minster ; and that on the Sunday fortnight after I had the misfortime to bear 
up his in St. Mary's, Savoy. He was the last rnale of the family of Pendarves 
in this place, which, with the rest of his proi)erty has devolved to his niece, 
Mary, the only daughter and heiress of his brother John Pendarves, Rector of 
Drews Teignton, in Devonshire, and relict of Francis Basset, of Tehidy, Esq. ; 
and this lady is now the possessor." " But before I leave this place I must not 
forget to give the just character of my deceased friend, with whom I had the 
honour to serve as burgess for Hilston, in Queen Anne's last Parliament, that 
for good humour, good sense, for a true and sincere adherence to the interests 
of his country, and for a harmless, merry disix)sition, he hath not many his 
equals, and none that exceed him in the country." 


think she never forgave it, but I did not dare to trust 
her. I knew the wisdom and goodness of Sebastian ^ and 
Valeria would be the surest refuge I could fly to at a time 
when I might be exposed to the insinuating temptations 
and malicious arts of the world. I was now to enter it 
again, on a new footing. Adieu, ever yours, 




When this great change happened I was not twenty- 
four years of age. I was so much affected by the sur- 
prizing manner of Grromio's death, that I did not recover 
my spirits in a great while. I was not hypocritical in 
the concern T showed, for to a fearful nature such as 
mine, there could not have happened a more terrifying 
accident ; but my natural good spirits, time, and finding 
myself freed from many vexations, soon brought me to a 
state of tranquillity I had not known for many years. 
As to my fortune, it was very mediocre, but it was at my 
own command. Some uneasiness attended it at first, the 
case of most widows, but I gave myself little anxiety about 
it. A la-wj-er recommended to me by Alcander, in whom 
I had confidence, managed very well for me. I had not 
then a turn for saving or management so as to make the 
best of my fortune, but I endeavoured to act prudently, 
and not run out, and now had it not been for the mis- 
fortunes and misconduct of my youngest brother,'^ I should 

1 Sir John Stanley. Valeria, Lady Stanley. 

2 Bevil GranA^ille. 


have been very happy, but I suffered infinite vexation on 
his account for some years. After a variety of distresses 
he went abroad, and the climate not agreeing with his con- 
stitution, he died soon after he left England, and though 
his life had occasioned me much sorrow, his death was a 
most sensible grief to me. 

This is a little digression from the main story, which 
you must excuse ; I spare you any more particulars 
about this unfortunate brother, though I feel myself 
inclined to enlarge on this subject. I had been a 
widow about six months when Herminius ^ sent to 
know; if I would give him leave to wait upon me : 
his sister Charlotte was at that time in the country, and 
I had not seen her since the death of Gromio. I could 
not refuse his visit. The next day he came, with the 
permission of Valeria, whom I consulted on all occasions. 
His conversation turned chiefly on my circumstances, 
which he enquired into, not with an impertinent inqui- 
sitiveness, but with an air of friendship which obliged 
me : he staid two hours, and when he went away I was 
sent for by my aunt to come into her apartment. 
Valeria's husband, Sebastian, of whom I ought to have 
made some mention in the beginning of these letters, 
treated me in the most friendly manner imaginable ; he 
was fond of me, and pleased with every mark of favour 
that Valeria bestowed upon me ; he was of a grave 
studious disposition, extremely polite, but retired as 
often as he could from the world, to indulge his taste 

^ Mrs. Pendarves had been acquainted with Lord Baltimore during the 
period of her residence in London with Mr. Pendarves. His sister was her 
intimate friend. Charles Calvert, 6th Lord Baltimore, was a Lord of the Bed- 
chamber to H.R.H. Frederick Prince of Wales. Lord Baltimore was born in 
the year 1699, and consequently was not very much older than herself. 


at a little villa he much delighted in. He left the 
management of most of his affairs to Valeria, having a 
high opinion of her judgment ; they had no children, 
and a very good fortune which at that time was unset- 
tled. Sebastian had several nephews, but was not parti- 
cularly fond of any of them ; his eldest sister's son 
Henricus,^ a lively good-humoured young man, very well 
in his person and manner, had but a moderate understand- 
ing, was uncultivated, trifling, without knowledge of the 
world, came to make a visit to his uncle soon after my 
being a widow, and unfortunately for me, liked me so 
well as to apply to Sebastian for leave to make his 
addresses to me. 

Valeria had a great desire of uniting the families by 
making a match between Henricus and me : when she 
sent for me after Herminius's visit, it was to inform 
me of Henricus's intention ; she set out all the advan- 
tages ; how considerable Sebastian would make his for- 
tune, and how much my uncle would be obliged by 
my not rejecting the proposal that was to be made. 
I was struck with astonishment at my aunt's recommend- 
ing a person to me that I was sure must appear very in- 
significant to her — it mortified me excessively. I told her 
sincerely I never could give my consent ; that I had no 
inclination to marry, and less to the person proposed, and 
begged of her to put it off as handsomely as she could, 
that Sebastian might not be offended with me, to whom 

^ Mr. Henry Monck was the son of Sarah, sister of Sir John Stanley, of 
Grange Gormto, who was ancestress to the Earl of Eathdown and the 
present Viscount Monck, and a branch of the family of Sir Thomas Monck 
of Potheridge (father of Monck, the celebrated Duke of Albemarle), who was 
hiisband of the daughter and co-heiress of Sir George Smythe of Maydford, 
uear Exeter, and sister of Grace, wife of the celebrated Sir Bevil Granville. 


I had infinite obligations as well as to herself; but she 
would not undertake or be satisfied with my answer, she 
bid me not be rash, but consider of it. The next day my 
brother was employed to persuade me to listen to this 
proposal, but he was so good as only to mention it, 
thinking it very reasonable to leave me at liberty on such 
an important point. I was much astonished at my aunt's 
being so zealous for him, and that fortune should ever 
sway so far with her generous nature as to wish me 
united to so insignificant a man ! I was extremely per- 
plexed and persecuted for some time, not only with his 
addresses, but Valeria set several of my relations to 
endeavour to prevail with me to alter my resolution. 
The visit I received from Herminius alarmed her : she 
immediately concluded it was more than a mere visit of 
ceremony, and as he came several times though I was often 
denied to him, it confirmed her in that opinion. She 
sifted me often to find out the turn of his conversation 
with me ; I had no disguise, but told her every word that 
passed, having no design of carrying on any secret com- 
merce : I rather wished to have her advice and direction 
in everything, knowing what an advantage it would be 
to me, to be guided by so experienced and judicious a 
person. I must defer what I have more to say to another 
time, my dear friend. 



From the Year of Mr. Pe^tdarves's Death to Mrs. Pen- 
DARVEs's First Visit to Ireland. 


Lord Lansdowiie " to tlte Hon. Mrs. Granville, at Gloucester.'^ 

Paris, January 19, 1725. 

Dear Sister, 

I received, with infinite pleasure, your kind and 
obliging letter. I am thankful to my niece Pendarves 
for the justice she has done me. You may be always 
assured of my most tender concern for you and yours. 
My misfortunes have affected me in nothing so much as 
in disabling me from giving you those demonstrations of 
friendship which are rooted in my heart. If ever it shall 
please God to put it again in my power, my sincerity 
shall be known and proved by effects. In the meantime, 
believe me, dear sister, my best wishes shall always 
attend you, and in whatever I may be able to express it, 
3^ou shall find me with the greatest truth, as well as 
aftection and esteem. 

Dear sister, 

Your most faithful and most humble servant, 


VOL. I. I 


I wish I could send my god-daugliter^ from hence 
something better than a bare blessing. I am much her 
humble servant. 

The thankfulness expressed by Lord Lansdowne for ' ' the justice 
his niece had done him/' no doubt alluded to Mrs. Pendarves's 
generous exculpation of Lord Lansdowne with regard to his 
negligence of her pecuniary interests and affairs, which appears 
at last to have occasioned him some remorse. 

Oeorge Lord Lansdotune to Ids niece, Mrs. Pendarves. 

Mr DEAR Niece, 

As Mr. Hawkeswell knew the strict care with 
which I charged him to keep the writings which concern 
you could only be for your sake, his scruple about 
delivering them to you, without an express order from 
me at this distance, is an unseasonable nicety. I hope 
what I have already written to yourself and Lady 
Lansdowne, referring to him, may already have overcome 
it ; but for fear of the worst, I enclose you a letter for 
him that there may be no difficulty remaining. I 
am glad to find it fixed in whose hands they were left, 
and that they are safe somewhere. I have been under 
great uneasiness about it, my memory having failed me 
in recollecting exactly, at such a distance of time, the 
settlement which was made at Long Leat. If I am not 
much mistaken, your father took [it] with him, otherwise 
in all probability it must have remained amongst my 
own writings in your Aunt Betty's custody : how she 
has disposed of them, she only can give an account. 

Ann Granville. 

OF MRS. DEL A NY. 115 

I left all my papers behind me, in exaot order, in my 
several scrutoires ; what has been their fate is more than I 
can tell ! Thank God this deed was not amongst them ; 
my heart is the easier for that ! My daughter, Graces 
writes me word you are a handsome widow — I hope you 
will find yourself a rich one. Pray, my dear niece, make 
my compliments to Sir John Stanley and my sister, and 
believe me, with more tenderness than I can express. 

My dear niece. 
Your most affectionate uncle and most faithful servant, 


Paris, April 5th, 1725. 

Your cousin Mary^ _ is your most humble servant. 
There is open war betwixt her and Lord Clare. 

By the date of the above letter it appears that Lord Lansdowne 
was still at Paris, whither, we are informed in Mrs. Delany's 
Autobiography, he had repaired in consequence of fresh political 
troubles, and that nearly three months had elapsed before the 
document was found which secured to his niece the moderate 
jointure upon which he had consented to Mr. Pendarves's 
marriage with her, implicitly depending upon the will which was 
to make her the " rich widow " he alluded to. 

Lord Lansdowne to Mrs. Pendarves. 

July 12th, 1725. 

My dear Niece, 

I am to thank ^^ou for your letter of the 2 1 st of 
June, your style, which I should have acquitted myself 
of sooner, if a circumstance had not happened to take my 
thoughts from everything else. 

1 The Hon. Mary Granville, second daughter of George Lord Lansdowne, 
married on the 14th of March, 1729-30, "William Graham, of Flatten, near 
Drogheda, Esq. 

I 2 


This is the twelfth day that my daughter Mary has 
been confined to her bed by a malignant fever. For 
some days we had little hopes of her, but it has pleased 
Grod to preserve her, and she is now pronounced out of 
all danger by the physicians. Independently of the 
partiality of a father, I may say she was worth preserving, 
and her danger has cost many tears wherever she 
was known. It pleases God to give me these frequent 
trials, and I submit to them ! His wall be done ! It is 
})y this post only that I have given her mother any 
account of it : I would not do it till I could assure her 
positively of her recovery. I have had the same tenderness 
for my friends at Somerset House, for I am persuaded 
o^ their sincere concern for me, in all events. I have 
heard nothing more from Mrs. Bassett, or any of her 
agents, since the letter I sent you. I am heartily sorry 
for lioskrow's being stript — I have been very merry there 
in my time ! I hope it was not a sister that did it : all 
sisters are not alike ! Old Lear had one kind daughter, 
among three ; the odds were two to one : I had but two 
sisters, the lay was equal, but I think myself sure of 
one : the world is not so bad as it was, pray God make 
it better ! My dear niece, believe me with more afiection 
than I can express, 
Your most affectionate uncle and faithful servant, 


My compliments to Sir J. and my Lady, &c. 

Lord Lansdown's allusion to " Roscrow being stript " proves 
that he was by that time aware that Mr. Pendarves had never 
signed the will in favour of his wife. The comparison between 
his own two sisters was evidently in favour of Lady Stanley in 
contradistinction to ''Siiperba " (Mrs. Betty Granville). 


The Editor has not found any letters of Mrs. Pendarves 
relative to the will of her husband ; but throughout her long 
life she ever evinced such indifference with regard to money, 
excepting for the benefit of others, that it may be fairly con- 
cluded she was less concerned than any of her relations at 
being left with an income of a few hundreds instead of many 
thousands a year. 

Mrs. Perulurves to Mrs. Anne OrauviUe. 

August 22nd, 1725. 

I am glad Gloucester affords you such variety of 
diversions ; may your beaux increase for the satisfaction 
of the belles. I hear Col. ChurchiU is gone to your 
city. I don't know what he may pass for among you ; 
if assurance will recommend him he never fails of that 
quality, though he can behave himself with as much good 
manners as any body where his impertinence meets 
with no encouragement. Pray let me know if you was 
at the Sheriff's ball ; if you danced, and who was your 
partner ? ^ 

Last Thursday I went to town with Lady Sunderland ; 
we dined at Lord De Lawarr's,' and was very merry. 
Mrs. Sandoni (who was Cuzzoni), is brought to bed of a 
daughter : it is a mighty mortification it was not a son. 
Sons and heirs ought to be out of fasliion when such 
scrubs shall pretend to be dissatisfied at having a 
daughter : 'tis pity, indeed, that the noble name and 
family of the Sandoni's should be extinct ! The minute 
she was brought to bed she sung " La Speranza," a song 
in Otho. He has been at an extravagant expense to 
please that whimsical creature against her l3^ing-in ; 

* The Lord DcLr.vun- of 1725 was John, 1st Earl. 


amongst other superfluous charges, he has bought a very 
fine looking-glass for the child, and a black laced hood 
for his wife to see company in at the end of her month : 
in short there is more talk of her than ever there was of 
the Princess^ when she lay in. 

We see very little company, and I go nowhere now but 
sometimes to the Countesses. Mrs. Hyde is gone into 
the country : her old harridanical mother-in-law has 
stripped her house in town of all its furniture, so there is 
no hopes of her coming here any more, which is a mighty 

The "London Daily Post" of Sept. 7th, 171^1, contains the 
following notice — " Mrs. C— z — ni is under sentence of death for 
poisoning her husband ;" but M. Schloecher adds, " that it is a 
question whether she was ever married ;" and at all events the 
sentence of decapitation must have been commuted into exile, 
as she made another appearance in England. 

Lord Lansdowne to his nephetv, Bernard Granville. 

July 17th, 1726. 

Dear Bunny, 

Your Aunt Lansdown having got perfected some 
writings for the settlement of my affairs according to my 
direction, it is possible that for form's sake, the lawyers 
may desire your signing with me, having made you my 
heir in case of failure of sons from myself. 

If I had had the same fair play from my uncle, it 

* December 7, 1724, the Princess Louisa was born ; the youngest child of 
the Prince and Princess of Wales, who were afterwards King George II. and 
Queen Caroline ; the Princess Louisa married Frederick V.King of Denmark. 
She died December 8, 1751. 


would have been the better for us all. This is therefore 
to desire you to comply with what she shall advise you 
upon this occasion, and to believe me ever, my dear 

Your most affectionate uncle, 

Lord Lansdown's allusion to the disposition of the property 
of his uncle, John, 1 st Earl of Bath, had reference to his estates 
having been divided between Grace, Countess Granville, Lady 
Gower, and Jane, instead of having been settled upon himself. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

You are very just to me, my dearest sister, in saying 
I will lose no opportunity of conversing with you, which 
indeed I will not ; and you must lay it to the charge of 
anything but negligence, when I happen to miss a post. 
Yesterday we shifted our quarters from Somerset House 
to Northend. It is said we shall stay here as long as the 
sun shines, and to say the truth between you and I, 
London is a dismal place at present. The streets are filled 
with nothing but dray-carts and hackney-coaches, out of 
which sometimes peeps a pragmatical lawyer, with staring 
eyes and white gloves, but they might save themselves 
the trouble of looking, for I don't vouchsafe them my 
regard. If somebody had been with me (that shall be 
nameless), perhaps they would have sigh'd for •" one look 
more before we part for ever." I have some good news 
for you : Ermin is in good health, and sent his compli- 
ments to you. He has been at Paris, but says he cannot 
pretend to give his opinion of the French ladies, for their 
faces and persons are so hid, he does not know what to 


make of them : he is going to the provinces, and designs 
to return to (now your heart goes pit-a-pat) Paris, and 
spend his winter there ; hut alas 1 I forgot I was writing 
to you ; I protest my imagination was so kind, that I 
thought I had been talking to you — it is all one to you 
whether he passes the remainder of the year in France or 
London, since you are 40 miles off: that is a ci'uel 
thought, and has come unluckily in my way to check a 
vein of merriment that I was unaccountably fallen into. 
Lady Lan. made us a visit the day before we went to 
town ; she looked thin and pale, Bess no changeling, but 
you have disobliged her, and she says she is bound to 
curse you as long as she lives. 

Phyrsis is come from the Conubian Mountains : I have 
not seen him, but he has paid his devoirs to the goddess 
of his vows. Can't you sometimes imagine yourself at 
Vandermine's \ feasting your eyes with Sophonisba ? I 
am sure tobacca is there in its full force. That Dutch rogue 
has not quite finished my piece, though there is not above 
an hour's work. Mrs. Hyde has taken to Woodfields' 
house, pulled down their furniture, and put up her own, 
and the Woodfields are to remain in the house — so they 
are happy folks. 1 am glad you have got an agreeable neigh- 
bour : I hope you will improve tlie acquaintance, and that 
the young lady's conversation will be answerable to her 
person, or I know you will despise her. Basta is a false 
matadore. Ombre flourishes abroad, but content alone is my 

» Fraiick Vandcrmine was a native of Holland, but lived in England, and 
practised as a portrait-paintei- both in London and the country. He loved 
smoking, nor would he leave his pipe, though he found it disagreeable to his 
eini)loyers. There is a mezzotinto of Franck, from a picture of his own paint- 
ing, inscribed " T/ie Smoker:' He died miserably, in Moorlields, iu 1783. 


game. I have had a letter from Erminia, wherein she lays 
a copy of verses that have been sent to Mon, to my charge ; 
the baggage has betrayed us, for she has seen that hand of 
mine before. Two posts ago brought me an epistle 
from our friend Sally/ but she is grown a conjugal 
creature, and so fond of her husband, that it is full of 
nothing but " caro sposo," and the terrible and dreadful 
misfortune she lately met with, of being disappointed 
of a lodging which they eagerly and earnestly desired, 
after a week's absence ; but strange unaccountable things 
happened to prevent and cross their purpose. She was 
at Abingdon, and he poor man mourned like a sucking 
babe, and galloped full speed to see his dear, and surprise 
her with his company, when oh (unlucky chance), she left 
Abingdon that very day, and return'd to Stanton a con- 
trary way — so missed of her lover ! 

Pray let me know who that gentleman was that gave 
me the epithet of " fine ,•" it sounds as if it came out of 
your landlord's mouth, or the parson of your parish ; but 
chiefly give me an account of what more particularly con- 
cerns yourself, or you shan't know who it was that I saw 
and spoke to, and was questioned and answer 'd on a cer- 
tain day of the week, between Sunday and Sunday, at the 
hour particularly agreeable to the purpose, and the critical 
minute, in the year 1726. 

I don't know if Lady Stanley will keep Nanny or no ; 
when I hear anything of it, I will write you word ; but 
my mama is a better judge than I am, if she is fit for my 
cousin Lawson's service. I hope you received the harp- 
sichord strings, the ballads and the edging. I send the 
rest of the strings this post. Gim is as merry as a 

' Sarah KirkLam (Mrs. Caix)u.) 


criket, and has got a very pretty white and black puss 
for a playfellow. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville, at Robert Isaacson's Esq., Asphy, 
near Wvbournf Bedfordshire. 

Northend, November 8th, 1726. 

I was extremely pleased last night with a passage I 
met in Mr. Evremond^ concerning friendship, where he 
says it softens and mitigates old afflictions, and raises 
good fortune to a double pitch of felicity. Without the 
communication of a real friend, sorrow would sink one to 
the lowest ebb, and pleasures lose half their advantage. It 
is not that the sharing one's grief with a person one loves 
takes off its force ; the way I take it is, that after the 
insults of fortune, and the rubs that attend human life, 
the compassion a friend affords one, their advice and the 
fresh proofs that such accidents of life gives one of their 
esteem, is of that healing nature, it is like opiate to one in 
violent racking pain : it lulls their torments, and changes 
their horror into pleasing and delightful slumber. This is 
the advantage of friendship in trouble ; but oh how much 
beyond expression is it in relation to our joys ! I can 
think of all the strokes of good fortune that is possible 
to meet with in life — as health, honour, riches, and a train 
of other blessings — with a great deal of moderation ; but 
when I suppose I may attain all this, and not have my 
dearest sister to partake with me, I am confounded with 

^ Charles de Marquetel de St. Denis, Seigneur de St. Evremond, was born 
at Constance, in Normand}', in 1613. He died in 1703, and was buried in 
Westminster Abbey. He wrote essays, letters, poems, and dramatic pieces, 
much read and admired by his fashionable contcmiwraries. An English 
translation of his works was published by Des Maizeaux. — Sec Gorton's 
Biographical Dictionary. 

OF MRS. dp:laxy. 123 

the idea ; and it plainly proves to me that you are abso- 
lutely necessary to the completing of my happiness ; and 
without all those mighty things I have mentioned, and 
in lieu thereof, a moderate share of health and wealth, 
but a vast quantity of your love and friendship, I shall not 
envy any one's estate, and whilst I can be assured of that, 
I can be happy even in your absence. 

" Your friendship at so just a rate I prize, 
As I for that an emigre would despise. 
Friendship's a stronger tye than blood." 

I shall be glad to have the rest of Mustapha^ and 
Zanga. The last scene in the book is where Solyman 
makes Roxalana write down her own accusation ; it ends 
with a speech of his, and the two last lines are, 

" These threat'ning tumults only dangerous are 
To monarchs who dare, less than subjects dare," 

This is spoke to Haly who brings him an account of 
the tumult. To-morrow we shall go to London ; I am 
extremely glad that you are to be at Aspley some time, 
I wish I could be of the party in that agreable family. 
I hope my mama will be so good as to excuse my not 
writing to her this post, but I believe she is so just to 
me, as not to think I can ever be wanting in duty and 
respect to her. If it is possible for me to write next post 
I will ; but I will give you a sketch of what I am to do, 
and then you may be judge how much time will lie upon 
my hands. We dine to-morrow with Sir John at Somer- 
set House •?' at four o' the clock in the afternoon comes my 

1 Mustapha the son of Solyman the Magnificent — a tragedy, by Roger 
Earl of Orrery. The scene of the play is in Hungary, and was founded on 
historical facts. Dryden says it should have ended with the death of Zanga, 
and not have given the Grace cup after dinner on Solyman's dinner from 

^ Somerset House was built by John of Padua, a celebrated Italian architect, 
for Edward Duke of Somerset, the Protector, in the reign of King Edward VI. 


lawyer and my taylor, two necessary animals. Next 
morning I send for Mrs. Woodfelds to alter my white 
tabby and my new clothes, and to take my black velvet to 
make ; then comes Mrs. Boreau to clip my locks, then I 
dress to visit Lady Carteret, then I come home to dinner, 
tlien I drink coftee after dinner, then I go to see my niece 
Basset and Mrs. Livingstone, then they reproach me, 
then I give them as good as they bring, then we are 
good friends again, then I come back, then if it is a pos- 
sible thing, I will write to mama, then sup and go to 
bed. My new pussey is of the Northend family, she is 
white, with a black nose and a black chin, and regularly 
spotted with black spots of the bigness of half-a-crown. 
I will give you a full and true account of all the fops 
and fopperies I meet with. I will remember La Belle 
Assemblce, which is at my cousin Lawson's service to 
read. Pray let me know if by mistake among your 
books you have got " the Golden Medley." So now, adieu. 
My aunt, brothers, and Mrs. Tillier's service, and duty 
as due. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Oranville. 

Somerset House, November 27th, 1726. 

Lady Stanley is much pleased at the thoughts of her 
plum-calce, and we shall eat with a particular pleasure 
when we think of the fair hands that made it. I have 

At the duke's death it was forfeited, b}' liis attainder, to the Crown, and 
assigned as a residence to Ihe Princess Eiizabctli, who was afterwards queen. 
Subsequently this palace was successively the residence of Anne of Denmark, 
wife of King James I. ; of Henrietta Maria, wife of Cliarles I. ; and of Cathe- 
rine of Braganza, the wife of Cliarles IJ. It belonged also to each succeeding 
(jueenas an appurtenance until Buckingham House was, by Act of Parliament, 
settled on Queen Charlotte in its stead, in the year 1775. Th(! old palace was 
inmiediately taken down, and Sir William Chambers in the course of a few 
years erected on its site the pile of buildings now known by the some name. 


borrowed Pharamond^ of Lady Delawarr for you, and 
desire you will take care no accident happens to it. No 
wit is stirring. 

A poor woman, dead as was supposed and going to 
be dressed for her coffin, was thouglit by the people 
about her to have some signs of life ; upon which they 
sent for Sir Hans Sloane,'^ who ordered her to be let blood ; 
they cut a vein but she would not bleed. She has a little 
pulse, and her flesh not at all discoloured, though she has 
lain in this way seven days ; when she wakes I may have 
some pretty dream to give you an account of. 

Last Saturday I was at Camilla ^ with Lady Carteret 
find her daughter, who grows very handsome. That 
mornino" I was entertained with Cuzzoni. Oh how 
charming ! how did I wish for all I love and like to 
be with me at that instant of time ! my senses were 
ravished with harmony. They say we shall have operas 
in a fortnight, but I think Madam Sandoni and the 
Faustina are not perfectly agreed about their parts. 
Well, as I was saying, I was at the opera of Camilla : 
it is acted at Lincoln's-Inn play-house, performed by a 
Mrs. Chambers, Mrs. Barbiere, Mrs. Fletcher, a Signor 
Eochetti, Mr. Leveridge, Mr. Legard. I can't say I was 
much pleased with it, I liked it for old acquaintance sake, 
but there is not many of the songs better then ballads. 
Enclosed I have sent you a riddle, but lest j^ou should 

Pharamond, a romance, containing the history of France. Done into 
English by T. Phillips. London, 1677. 

2 Sir Hans Sloane, the founder of the British Museum. This eminent 
physician, botanist, antiquary and vii-tuoso was bom 1660, and died 1753. 

^ Schoslcher mentions that the opera of " Camilla " was first performed April 
30, 1706, and that the music was chiefly borrowed from Mario Antonio Bonon- 
cini, brother of the celebrated Giovanni Eononcini. 


take it in a wrong sence, I must expound it to you : it is 
the game of quadrille ; the four ladies are the queens, the 
gallants the kings ; if you have a notion of the game you 
will easily find out the rest, it does not differ much from 
Ombre. ,1 have been this morning to make a visit to 
Mrs. Basset, and to desire she will conclude my affairs as 
soon as possible, which she promises to do. 

I am by appointment to go and drink tea with Lady 
Tirrawley, which will hinder me from making my letter 
so long as otherwise I would. Since I writ this letter, 
Mr. Paulin has sent me word I cannot possibly have 
mama's gown till late to-morrow night. 

In reference to the theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields, mentioned 
in the above letter, the following extract is interesting. It is 
stated by Smith that " Portugal Street was so named in compli- 
ment to the queen of Charles II., and is celebrated as the site of 
Sir William Davenant's theatre. Though it is the general opinion 
that there was but one theatre in this quarter, there appear to liave 
been two ; but it is not a little difficult to determine the exact site 
of each, and the exact period when they were opened. Killigrew, 
in the year 1661, had a theatre in the Tennis Court, Vere Street, 
Clare Market, but he and his company removing to Drury Lane, 
in 1663, there was an end for the time of this first of the 
Lincoln's Inn Fields theatres. In 1662, while Killigrew was 
still in his old quarters, Sir William Davenant's (or the ' Duke's ' 
company, as they were called to distinguish them from 
Killigrew's, or the * King's ' company,) removed from Salisbury 
Court to a new theatre in Portugal Street. Davenant's company 
performed here till 1671, when for some reason or other, which 
does not appear, they returned to Salisbury Court. In 1 694, 
Betterton and Congreve re-opened the theatre in Portugal Street, 
under a licence from King William III., and Betterton continued 
to manage its affairs until 1704, when the neighbours copiplained 
of it as a nuisance. He then assigned his patent to Sir John 


Vanbrugh, who, finding the premises too small, erected a theatre 
in the Haymarket. The Portugal Street Theatre, being thus 
abandoned, remained empty for about ten years, when it was re- 
opened by Mr. Rich. • The performers,' says the author of the 
introduction to Baker's ' Biographia Dramatica,' ' were so much 
inferior to those at Drury Lane, that the latter carried away all 
the applause and favour of the town. In this distress the genius 
of Rich suggested to him a species of entertainment which, at the 
same time that it hath been deemed contemptible, has ever been 
followed and encouraged ; Harlequin, Pantaloon, and all the 
host of pantomimic pageantry were brought forward, and sound 
and show obtained a victory over sense and reason. The fertility 
of Mr. Rich's invention in these entertainments, and the excel- 
lence of his own performance, must at the same time be 
acknowledged ; by means of these only he kept the managers of 
the other house at all times from relaxing their diligence, and 
to the disgrace of public taste, frequently obtained more money 
by ridiculous and paltry performances, than all the sterling merit 
of the other theatre was able to acquire.' Rich and his company 
removed, in 1 733, to the then newly-erected theatre of Covent 
Garden, and the old one was shut up for about two years. It 
was then taken by a Mr. Giffard, from Goodman's Fields, who, 
not finding his speculation answer, gave it up in 1737, when it 
ceased to be a theatre. It was afterwards occupied as a pottery 
warehouse, and has now disappeared altogether. It stood nearly 
opposite to the burial-ground. Many curious particulars relative 
to the theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields are to be found in 
Pepys's ' Diary,' who says, that at the theatre in Vere Street, 
he first saw a woman on the stage." 

The Lady Tyrawley mentioned by Mrs. Pendarves was 
Frances, daughter of Jarvis Rous in the county of Worcester. 
Her son was created Baron of Kilmaine, and succeeded his 
father 1721<, and in 1727 was appointed Envoy Extraordinary to 
the King of Portugal. Horace Walpole says (Nov. 1 7-12) : " My 
Lord Tyrawley has come from Portugal, and has brought three 
wives and 14 children ; one of the former is a Portuguese with 


long black hair platted down to the bottom of her back, he was 
asked the other night what he thought of England, whether he 
found much alteration from fifteen years ago. ' None at all,' said 
he ; ' there's my Lord Bath is just what he was, and I found my 
Lord Grantham walking on tiptoe as if he was still afraid of 
waking the Queen.' " In 1743 he says " Lord Tyrawley, who 
has been fifteen years in Portugal, says he finds nothing but Si^fog 
whist, and the House of Commons'^ And in June 1762 he says 
that the Count La Lippe is to Pcommand the ortuguese, and 
Lord Tyrawley the English." And in July, he adds, "Lord 
Tyrawley is coming home disgusted vith the nomination of 
Count La Lippe, and in truth I cannot see the wisdom or honor 
of that measure. If we protect Portugal, is it not more creditable 
to give them an English commander, and the general, who was 
almost a Portuguese — almost naturalized among them — trusted 
and beloved there ? How can English soldiery prefer him to 
their countryman ?" 

Mrs. Pendnrves to Mrs. Anne Granville. 

January 2Gth, 1720-7. 

I heartily grieve to think how ill you have been 
used by your landlord. I am glad my mama has given 
him warning, and that she designs to remove in the 
Spring. I should be very happy could I flatter myself 
with the hopes of her steering her course this way of the 
world, and should rejoice to join with her in any way ; 
but I shall approve of everything she thinks most 
proper. I shall be very glad to know her determination, 
because I will, if possible, wait on her before she leaves 
Brickhiir if she intends to go farther. 

1 Great Brickliill, Buckinghamshire, is a seat of tlie Duncombe family. Sir 
Charles Duncomlie was knighted when Lord Maj'or of London in 1709, and 


This day dines here Lord and Lady Fitz William^ and 
the charming Faustina, who is the most agreeable creature 
in the world (except my Lord Mayer) in company, and 
we are to have our senses ravished by her melodious 
voice. Oh that you had wings ! Mrs. Legh* is trans- 
ported with joy at living once more in " dear London," 
and hearing Mr. Handel's opera performed by Faustina, 
Cuzzoni and Senesino (which was rehearsed yesterday 
for the first time) that she is out of her senses. To 
add to her joys, somebody has presented her with 
a pelican crane and a little St. Anthony in wood : I 
design to get her a pig, and send it by the porter, 
for her Saint is nothing without his pig ! She has 
enquired after you. The Countess and her little one 
continues well ; the babe is to be made a Xtian next 
Sunday. Miss Legh is fallen in love with the Basilisk,^ 
and says he is the most charming man of the world ; 
he happened to commend Handel, and won her heart 
at once. 

Yesterday I made a visit to Mrs. Moody. Mrs. Misson 
was there, and they were prodigiously glad. 

his nephew, Anthony Duncombe, after having represented the city of Salisbury 
in Parliament, was created an English peer, by the title of Lord Feversham, 
in 1747. He was thrice married, and by his last wife Anne, daughter of Sir 
Thomas Hales, baronet, he left two co-heiresses. The peerage became extinct 
at his death in 1763. 

^ John, second Earl Fitzwilliam, succeeded his father in 1719, and died 
28th August, 1728. He married Anne, daughter and sole heir of John 
Stringer, Esq., and left a son and three daughters. 

* The Leighs mentioned in these letters appear to have been of the Adlestrop 
and Longborough family. 

' The same person as " Herminius" and ** The American Prince " —i. e.. 
Lord Baltimore. 

VOL. I. K 




Herminius continued very assiduous in his visits, 
and his manner gave me reason to believe he had a 
particular regard for me. I confess I wished it might be 
so, and it gave me resolution absolutely to refuse 
Henricus. Valeria was by no means pleased with my 
determination, but she found it in vain to prevent 
me any longer. She had received an impression to 
the prejudice of Herminius ; I now believe she made a 
better judgement of him than I did, but his behaviour to 
me was so respectful and engaging, that the natural vanity 
of human nature led me to think more favorably of him 
than he deserved. He had not many opportunities of 
seeing me, for as I suspected my own inclination towards 
him increased, I grew more reserved. 

All the summers I spent either with my mother a 
great distance from the metropolis, or at a villa of 
Sebastian's, a few miles from it, where I had spent some 
of my most youthful and happy days. From thence I 
frequently went to town, either on business of my own 
or my aunt's, or to see some of my intimate friends. As 
Herminius was a good deal on the watch to see me, he 
generally found an opportunity of calling on me at Lady 
Stanley's house in town ; I was not shy of receiving his 
visits as his behaviour towards me was unexceptionable. 
The last day we ever met there he proposed to me a 
party on the water. The weather was excessive hot and 


fine : he said his sister was ready to wait on me, and 
desired me to take what company I pleased, and that he 
had bespoke a barge of musick to attend us. The 
temptation was almost irresistible, but T thought it not 
prudent, and refused all his entreaties, at which he left 
me disappointed and chagrined, and instead of going on 
the water, put off the barges that were waiting on the 
waterside and went to the Tennis Court, where a ball 
struck him between the eyes and knocked him down. 
AU the company thought him killed ; he was carried to 
his sister's house (being nearer than his own), weltering 
in his blood, but with some signs of life. 

I was gone out of town before this accident happened, for 
I went as soon as he left me ; his sister, almost distracted, 
sent a letter to inform me of it, and to beg to see me as 
soon as possible. I was extremely shocked, believing 
myself (though innocently) the cause of this misfortune. 
The next day I went to town ; when I came to 
Charlotte's house I found her drowned in tears and 
under the greatest apprehensions for her brother's life. 
He had lost so great a quantity of blood that he was 
reduced to the lowest weakness ; he said he wished 
extremely to see me, and begged of me to go to his 
bedside. I could not bring myself to do it, as he had 
never positively made any declaration that could warrant » 
my granting him such an indulgence, and I thought it 
might disturb him ; I was therefore resolute in my 
refusal, and poor Charlotte thought me inhuman ; but 
I left her with a promise that if he continued as ill the 
next day, and desired to see me, I would not refuse him. 

I was so affected after this visit that for some days I 
was ill and not able to go to town, receiving every day 

K 2 


very doubtful accounts of his recovery ; but his youth at 
length prevailed and he grew better. I avoided going to 
town, thinking it sufficient to send and enquire after him. 
He went to his country-house as soon as it was safe for 
him to remove ; when he was gone I went to see his sister. 
She reproached me with my indifference to her brother, 
and called me ungrateful, for he expressed so great a 
regard for me all the time of his illness, that he seemed 
to desire life only for my sake, and would take nothing 
that was prescribed him, but as he was told it was my 
request. A lady of his acquaintance sent him a necklace 
of bloodstones to wear (as it is vulgarly thought a specific 
against violent bleedings), he threw it away with the 
utmost indignation. Charlotte got one from me she had 
seen in my cabinet, which he wore without any difficulty 
and honorably restored. Soon after Herminius going 
out of town, I received a letter from him to return me 
thanks for the concern I had expressed for him, and to 
assure me that his recovery was more owing to that than 
to the skill of his physicians, and concluding with some 
warm expressions of his great regard. Not long after 
I was desired to use my interest with him in favour of a 
person who wanted to be recommended to him; 1 
mentioned it to Charlotte, and in a few days received 
another letter from him to assure me " my request was 
granted, and how happy he was to have any opportunity 
of obeying my commands, and that he wished for nothing 
more than to show me how much he was my devoted 
humble servant." 

Though there was nothing more in this letter than a 
little polite compliment, yet as there was something very 
particular in his whole behaviour, I own I could not 


lielp thinking somewhat more was meant by his letters 
than mere politeness of manners : however, I answered 
neither of them, nor did I make a confidence of my 
secret thoughts to anybody. His sister often said 
her brother had a higher opinion of me than of any 
woman he knew, and said many things in my favour. 

I went to Tunbridge at the end of that summer with 
Sebastian and Valeria, but heard nothing of him. At 
my return to town he came to see me (I was still with 
Valeria) ; he told me he was going to make a tour abroad 
for three months, and had fitted up a little vessel for 
that purpose ; that he had great lowness of spirits, partly 
occasioned by his late accident at tennis and some 
vexation he had met with; that before he went he had 
a request to make me, which, if I knew how great his 
regard was for me, and how much his happiness depended 
on it, I would not refuse him : he paused, and I was in 
such confusion I could not say a word, nor could I guess 
what this earnest request was to be. At last he begged me 
to give him my picture in miniature to take abroad witli 
him. I told him it could not be, that though I had a great ^ 
opinion of his honour, / did not think it right, and hoped 
he would Dot be offended at my refusing it. If I could 
comply with such a request to anybody it should be to 
him ; he protested solemnly I should have no reason to 
repent of bestowing on him such a favour, but I abso- 
lutely refused him. He looked vexed and disappointed, 
but made me a thousand professions of love and esteem. 

So we parted, neither of us pleased with each other ; 
I looked upon him as a fiutterer, and was at a loss 
to know what his intentions were. He went to sea, 
and staid the greatest part of the winter. It was 


reported, and generally believed, that his ship was cast 
away ; he was much lamented by everybody, and I own 
I was not insensible on the occasion. One night as 1 
was at the drawing-room, who should I see in the 
crowd but Herminius making up to the circle. I was so 
prepossessed with his being drowned that had I really 
seen his apparition I could not have been more startled. 
As soon as he had been noticed by the King, on his 
return home, he came up to me : he looked dejected and 
ill, which I attributed to the great fatigues he had gone 
through. As soon as I could get a seat he came and sat 
down by me, and expressed great satisfaction at seeing 
me again. I felt in some confusion, and to disguise it 
rallied him on his stratagem of giving out that he was 
cast away to try how his friends would lament him. I 
came thus far before I remembered I was writing a letter, 
and will not add more before we have both taken breath. 
I am your most aflectionate and obedient, 


Mrs. Fendarves to Mrs. Anne OranvtUe, at Gloucester. 

October 5th, 1727. 

Mrs. Badge nor I could not rightly understand you 
about the Bohea tea, for she does not remember she was 
ordered to bespeak any, and you say in your letter that 
I must send the Bohea tea that was bespoke, and a pound 
more. She imagines the tea mama meant was " tea dust,'' 
but she can't get any for love nor money, but has bought 
two pound of Bohea, at thirteen shilling a pound, which 
the man says is extraordinary good ; but every thing of 
that kind grows very dear, chocolate especially. I have 


sent you a pound at three and sixpence, the best 
in town at that price, but I am afraid it is not such 
as my mother^ will like, but I desire her approbation of 
it as soon as she has tasted it. In the box with the 
linnen there is mama's black poudesoy gown and petty- 
coat, your white pettycoat, and mama's two hoods ; (but 
I will never again employ these people), also three japan 
bords, six forks and spoons, and French silver salt- 
sellers, and a pair of China ones, which you may think 
old fashion, but it is the new mode, and all saltsellers 
are now made in that manner. There is a little Tun- 
bridge jewel box which Mrs. Tillier desires you to accept 
as her fairing; in the first partition there is three 
cakes of lip salve, in the next a solitary ring which 
begs the honour of embracing one of your fitngers, the 
motto wiU inform you from whom it comes ; in the next 
is the overplus money of the five guineas, and in the last 
is my mother's six pound ten shillings, and Mrs. Badge's 
account how she has laid out the money. There is also 
two " Tunbridge voiders," which I hope mama will 
not think me saucy, if I desire the favour of her 
to make use of, and the standish is for Mrs. Viney, 
her ingenuity will direct her how to set it together, 
for I was forced to unscrew it least it should break in 
the carriage.'* 

I was at Court last Thursday morning, and the King 
asked me if I had been in Cornwall, for he had not seen- 

» Mrs. Granville having been brought up in Spain, was particularly fond of 

2 This account of the manner Mary Granville packed all these odd trifles, and 
her exactness in giving the account, is a part of her character, and of the 
qualification in which she excelled of packing well, as also the principle she 
practised as well as preached of never executing commissions by deputy. 


me a great while ; and when I told him where I had been 
he asked me abundance of questions how I had passed 
my time at Tunbridge ? The Queen has upon her petty- 
coat for the coronation, twenty-four hundred thousand 
pounds worth of jewels. Her train is to be held up by 
the three young princesses, and Lady Frances Nassau,^ 
Lady Mary Capell,^ Lady Margaret Herbert,^ Lady Anne 

What interest I have, I shall be very willing to make 
use of for my sweethearts^ service, but nothing can be 
done till he is sent to school to Westminster. I saw 
Captain Moles worth yesterday, he asked after Gloucester 

The " Tunbridge Voider" mentioned in this letter, was probably 
a sort of basket for waste paper. " Dr. Johnson defines the word 
' voider ' as *' a basket iu which broken meat is carried from the 
table." In Tudor times an afternoon refreshment of con- 
fectionary used to be called a "void," of this Dr. Johnson does 
not seem to have been aware, but a light cake-basket might 
perhaps have borne the name of "voider" in the early part 
of the 18th century. 

• Lady Frances Nassau was the youngest daughter of Henry de Nassau, 
Lord of Auverquerque, and sister of Henry, 1st Earl of Grantham, and of 
Isabelhi, who married Charles, 2nd Earl of Bath. Lady Frances was con- 
sequently connected with the Granville family. Lady Frances married 
Nanfant Cote, Earl of Bellamont. 

2 The Lady Mary Capel, third daughter of Algernon, 2nd Earl of Essex, 
was one of the ladies of the bedchamber to the Princess Royal, Anne, 
daughter of King George 11., and married in 1729 Alan Broderick, Viscount 

^ The Lady Margaret Herbert, second daughter of Thomas, 8th Earl of 
Pembroke and 5th Earl of Montgomery, died, unmarried, December 15, 1752. 

• The Lady Anne lainiley, third daughter of llichard, 1st Earl of Scar- 
borough, afterwards married Frederick Frankland, Esq., M.P. for Thirsk, 
and died in February, 1740. 

• " tSweetheart " was a word then often applied to children. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Somerset House, the day after the Coronation. 

You require a full and true account of all the pomp 
I saw yesterday. I cannot say my dearest sister is 
unreasonable, but how can I answer your demands? No 
words (at least that I can command), can describe the 
magnificence my eyes beheld. The book I sent you 
informs you of all the ceremony and manner of proceed- 
ing. I was a spectator in Westminster Hall, from whence 
the procession begun, and after their Majesties were 
crowned, they returned with all their noble followers to 
dine. The dresses of the ladies were becoming, and most 
of them immensely rich. Lady Delawar was one of the 
best figures ; the Duchess of Queensborough depended 
so much upon her native beauty that she despised all 
adornments, nor had not one jewel, riband, or puff to set 
her off, but everybody thought she did not appear to 
advantage. The Duchess of Richmond pleased every- 
body ; she looked easy and genteel, with the most sweet- 
ness in her countenance imaginable ; in short all the ladies 
young and middle-aged, though not handsome, looked 
agreeable and well. The Lords' dress is not altogether so 
well, but those that walked well had the advantage. Lord 
Sunderland, Lord Albemarle, the Duke of Richmond, 
Lord Finch, and my Lord Lichfield were ihe top. 

The Queen never was so well liked; her clothes 
were extravagantly fine, though they did not make show 
enough for the occasion, but she walked gracefully and 
smiled on all as she passed by. Lady Fanny Nassau 
(who was one of the ladies that bore up the train) looked 
exceeding well ; her clothes were fine and very becoming, 


pink colour satin the gown (which was stifF-bodied), 
embroidered with silver, the petticoat covered with a 
trimming answerable. Princess Anne (who is now dis- 
tinguished by the title of Princess Royal), and her two 
sisters, held up the tip of the train : they were dressed in 
stifF-bodied gowns of silver tissue, embroidered or quite 
covered with silver trimming, with diadems upon their 
head, and purple mantles edged with ermine, and vast 
long trains ; they were very prettily dressed, and looked 
very well. After them walked the Duchess of Dorset and 
Lady Sussex, two ladies of the bedchamber in waiting ; 
then the two finest figures of all the procession — Mrs. 
Herbert^ and Mrs. Howard,^ the bedchamber-women 
in waiting, in gowns also, but so rich, so genteel, so per- 
fectly well dressed that any description must do them an 
injury. Mrs. Herbert's was blue and silver, with a rich 
embossed trimming; Mrs. Howard scarlet and silver, 
trimmed in the same manner, their heads with long locks 
and puffs and silver riband. 

I could hardly see the King, for he walked so much 
under his canopy, that he was almost hid from me by the 
people that surrounded him ; but though the Queen was 
also under a canopy, she walked so forward that she was 
distinguished by everybody. The room was finely illumin- 
ated, and though there was 1800 candles, besides what 
were on the tables, they were all lighted in less than three 
minutes by an invention of Mr. Heidegger's, which suc- 
ceeded to the admiration of all spectators ; the branches' 

1 Mrs. Herbert. Mary, daughter of John Smith, Esq., Speaker of the 
House of Commons, Bedchamber-woman to Queen Caroline, and wife of the 
Hon. Robert Sawyer Herbert, of High Clere, 2nd son of Thomas, 8th Earl of 
Pembroke, and 5th Earl of Montgomery. 

' Mrs. Howard, afterwards Countess of Suffolk. 


that held the candles were all gilt and in the form of pyra- 
mids. I leave it to your lively imagination after this, to 
have a notion of the splendour of the place so filled and so 
illuminated. I forgot to tell you Lady Carteret looked 
charmingly, and nothing was ever more beautiful than her 
fine throat, which appeared to the utmost advantage. 

I went with Mrs. Garland, a particular friend of my 
Lady Carteret's, and one of a general acquaintance. We 
went to the Hall at half-an-hour after four in the morning, 
but when we came the doors were not opened, and we were 
forced to go in to a coffee-house, and staid till the doors 
opened, which at half-an-hour after seven they brought us 
word they were. We then sallied forth with a grenadier 
for our guide : he conveyed us into so violent a crowd that 
for some minutes I lost ray breath, (and my cloak I doubt 
for ever). I verily believe I should have been squeezed as 
flat as a pancake if providence had not sent Mr. Edward 
Stanley to my relief, and he being a person of some au- 
thority made way for me, and I got to a good place in 
the Hall without any other damage than a few bruises on 
my arms and the loss of my cloak ; and extreamly frighted 
with the mob, so much that all I saw was a poor recom- 
pense for what my spirits had sufiered. 

I got home without any accident about ten of the clock 
at night. It was not disagreeable to be taken notice of 
by one's acquaintance when they appeared to so much ad- 
vantage, for everybody I knew came under the place 
where I sate to ofier me meat and drink, which was drawn 
up from below into the galleries by baskets at the end of 
a long string, which they filled with cold meat and bread, 
sweetmeats and wine. I think I have told you as much 
as I at this time can remember. Considering the fatigue 


I underwent, you have no reason to complain of my 
letter, for all blunders that must be an excuse. I hope 
you have found the worsted ; I packed it with the flax,^ 
which if it proves good I desire you will give me the 
satisfaction of knowing. Pray present my humble duty 
to my mama. Sir John and Lady Stanley are at North- 
end. My eyes have been so much dazzled, that I can't 
see to fill this sheet of paper. 

The Coronation of George II. and Queen Caroline took place 
11th October, 1727. King George I. died 11th June in the 
same year. Lord Harvey says — " In October the ceremony of 
the Coronation was performed with all the pomp and magnifi- 
cence that could be contiived ; the present king differing so 
much from the last that all the pageantry and splendour, badges 
and trapping of royalty, were as pleasing to the sou as they were 
irksome to the father. The dress of the Queen on this occasion 
was as fine as the accumulated riches of the city and suburbs 
could make it ; for besides her own jewels (which were a great 
number and very valuable), she had on her head and on her 
shoulders all the pearls she could borrow of the ladies of quality 
at one end of the town, and on her petticoat all the diamonds 
she could hire of the Jews and jewellers at the other." Horace 
Walpole in his " Reminiscences " says — " At the death of 
Queen Anne such a clearance had been made of Her Majesty's 
jewels, or the new king had so instantlj' distributed them among 
his German favourites, that Lady Suffolk told me Queen Caroline 
never obtained of the late Queen's jewels but one pearl neck- 
lace." The above fact is cited, in a note to Lord Hervey's 
Memoirs, as an excuse for borrowing and hiring. 

> There are frequent allusions in these letters to the jnirchase and selection 
of flax. Mary Granville and her mother Averc celebrated spinners, botli 
in flax and in that preparation of wool called Jersey. The Editor still jios- 
sesses the wheel of Mary Granville, and a piece of purple jtoplin of her si)in- 
ning. There are also in existence damask napkins, of the finest texture, spun 
by her mother and sister. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Granville at Gloucester. 

Somerset House, 31 October, 1727. 

After a Coronation a Lord Mayor's feast cannot pre- 
sume to make a figure in print, but as I love to keep my 
word on all occasions, I will, according to my promise, 
describe as well as I am able what I was yesterday wit- 
ness of, though with gazing my eyes are so weak to day, 
that I fear I shall hardly be able to see my way quite 
through the crowd. The Duchess of Manchester,^ Lady 
Carteret, Lady Fanny Shirley,^ called on me at half-an- 
hour after one ; the streets were prodigiously crowded 
with mob and the train-bands, whose ridiculous appear- 
ance and odd countenances were very entertaining, and 
all the windows from the bottom to the top loaded with 
people. We were in no bustle of coaches, for no hackneys 
were allowed to pass, and all went the same way ; but 
there was so great a throng they could move but very 
slowly for fear of trampling the people to death, so that 
we were a whole hour going from Somerset House to 
Guildhall. \Vlien we came to King Street, the officers 
upon duty said we must not go any further, but get out 
of our coaches in Cheapside, for none but the royal family 
were to drive to the Hall gate, but as the street was well 
swept and soldiers planted to keep off the mob, it was 
very good walking. When we had walked about half 
way up the street, one of the Lord Mayor's officers with a 
blue and gold staff met us, and said, with an audible and 

* Isabella, wife of William, 2nd Duke of Manchester, who bore the golden 
spurs for the Earl of Essex at the coronation of George II. She was the 
eldest daughter of John, Duke of Montague. 

* The Lady Frances Shirley, 4th daughter of Robert, 1st Earl Ferrers. 
She died unmarried in 1778. 


formal voice, " Ladies, open your tickets," which accord- 
ingly we did. " Very well, ladies, you will have admit- 
tance into the Hall, and, ladies, you may tarry till the 
morning ; indeed from this time until six 6* the clock you 
may tarry." Then we were all conducted into the room 
where my Lady Mayoress and all the Aldermen's ladies 
were seated. Our names were told, and everybody made a 
low curtsey to her ladyship, who returned it with a great 
deal of civility, and told us if we would followher we should 
dine at her table — an honour not to be refused, and indeed 
it was a particular favour. We attended her, and had a 
very fine dinner, and all the polite men of our acquaintance 
waited behind our chairs and helped us to what we wanted : 
I had to my share Sir Eobert Sutton and Mr. Stanley. 

As soon as we had dined the Lady Mayoress got up, 
and we followed her to a very pretty room with a good 
fire, where there was closets. After that we went back 
to the first room, at the upper end of which was placed 
two armed chairs and two stools for their Majesties and 
the Princesses. All this while my Lord Mayor was per- 
forming his part through the City, but wind and tide 
being against him made his return very late. 

The King, &c., were at a house which they say has al- 
ways been kept for that purpose, over against Bow 
church, to see the procession. His own coach and 
horses, that conveyed him to the Hall, was covered with 
purple cloth ; the eight horses, (the beautifullest crea- 
tures of their kind), were cream colour, the trappings 
purple silk, and their manes and tails tied with purple 
riband ; the Princesses horses were black, dressed with 
white ribands. The King was in purple velvet ; the 
Queen and Princesses in black, and very fine with jewels. 

OF MRS. DEL ANY. ' 143 

At six o' th' clock my Lord Mayor and Aldermen re- 
turned, and in three quarters of an hour after the King 
came. My Lord Mayor, after having received him and 
paid the usual homage at the gate, conducted him, &c. 
into the room where we sate. He and the Queen and the 
Princesses stood before the chairs and stools that were 
placed for them, which were raised four steps, and a very 
loyal speech was made by one of the Aldermen and an 
acknowledgment of the honour received. Their Majesties 
were very gracious, and then the Lady Mayoress and the 
Aldermen's wives were presented. All that ceremony 
being over, it was time they should have some refreshment, 
which they had in a very magnificent manner in the Hall. 

We followed the train and saw them at dinner. The 
Lady Mayoress waited at the Queen's elbow. Having 
satisfied our curiosity so far, we thought it convenient 
to secure a place in the gallery where the ball was to be, 
which indeed was much too straight for the purpose, but 
we solaced ourselves with tea and cofiee. About ten the 
royal folk came where we then were, but the crowd was 
so insupportable we made made the best of our way out 
of it. I had one glimpse of our Alderman, who was 
endeavouring to get to me, but that was not to be effected, 
so we were parted and saw no more of him. The King 
and Queen went about twelve o' clock away, and we stayed 
an hour and a quarter after them, not being able sooner 
to get to our coach. 

We got home very well, and I must own I was very 
well pleased with my day's expedition. The Lady 
Mayoress and those that had been, and the High 
Sheriff"s lady, wore gold chains, but not as a necklace, 
— they were tacked on the robings of their gowns in 


loose scollops in the manner of a galloon, and looked very 
pretty upon black velvet. There was a vast many people 
of quality, and, considering the great number of people, 
less confusion than I expected. I have come now to the 
end of my journey. I am, my dearest sister, 

More yours than words will express, 
M. Pendarves. 

My humble duty and service. 

Mrs. Badge ^ is now here; and presents her humble 
duty to my mama and yourself. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Somerset House, 11th Novr. 1727. 

I was yesterday at the rehearsal of Mr. Handel's new 
opera called King Eichard the First — 'tis delightful. 
There I saw Captain Elliot. I was in Lady Sunderland's 
box, Mrs. Dashwood and Miss Peyton^ with me, and he 
came and sate behind me. I reminded him of his promise 
about the poor man, and he said he had spoke about him 
and would try further ; he goes to quarters next Tuesday 
to Warwick. You ask me if the Lady Mayoress was 
young or handsome ? — she was neither. Masquerades 
are not to be forbid, but there is to be another 
entertainment barefaced, which are balls. Twelve sub- 
scribers, every subscriber pays ten guineas a night, and 

* The Dashwood and Peyton families were closely connected by frequent 

intermarriages. The Mrs. Dashwood and Miss Peyton here mentione<l 
appear to have been Anne and Margaret, daughters of Sir Sewster Peyton, 
2nd baronet, and of his wife, Anne, sister of Sir Robert Dashwood, of North 
brook, bart. Their father being dead, their brother Thomas was then 3rd 
baronet. Anne Peyton married Richard Dashwood, Esq., of Cock ly Hey. 
Margaret Peyton married "her cousin," George Dashwood, Esq., and her 
descendants (1857) represent the Peyton family. — See Burke's Peerage and 


is to have tliree tickets to dispose of, two of them to 
ladies and the other to a gentleman, that will make up 
four-and- twenty couple. There is to be a handsome 
collation, and they will hire Heidegger's rooms^ to 
perform in. Some prudes already have attacked the 
reputation of those ladies that will accept of the tickets, 
but as all the subscribers are men of the first quality, 
and most of them married men, I don't see what scandal 
can ensue, only spiteful people make harm of everything. 
There are to be no spectators, nor tickets to be sold, and 
there are to be twelve of these balls. I am sorry my 
mama has any perplexing thoughts about her present 
undertaking,^ because it will be in her power to quit it. 
provided it does not answer her purpose. I hope she 
has her health, and that God Almighty will continue 
her that blessing, and then she will find a chimney- 
comer of her own, with such a companion as my sister, 
very comfortable and happy. 

Make my compliments to the fair society, and though it 
is almost a pity to part you, I cannot but wish the knot 
was broke — I mean that another should be tyed. But to 
speak seriously, matrimony is no way in my favour — far 
from it ; for I would rather see you all as you are, unless 
you each of you met with a man worthy of you, but that 
I really think is hardly to be found ; therefore you are 
better as you are, were you but in my reach. Heigh ho ! 
that thought damps my spirits and spoils many a pretty 
thing I had thought of before that melancholy reflection 
came in my way. Monimia is out in her conjectures. 

1 At his theatre in the Hayinarket. 

' This alluded to Mrs. Granville's change of residence and permanent 
settlement at Gloucester. 

YOL. I, L 


Memuon trembled and looked pale when I said she had 
been ill ; he speaks to me only to have an opportunity 
of naming her. 

Now for the modes : — undrest people wear all sorts of 
second mourning, unless they go to Court, then they 
must wear black silk or black velvet. There is great 
liberty taken in dress ; everybody pleases themselves. 
A great many people curl the hair round the face, the 
young and handsome become it. Ribbon is not very 
much worn. Mr. Wise^ has been in town some time : 
he told me he had writ to my mother or I had men- 
tioned him sooner. I am very glad my brother Bevill is 
in France; it is what I advised him to long ago, and the 
only secure step he could take ; for as he has managed 
his affairs I doubt he could not have staid in England 
with any security. You have given me many instances 
of your friendship, but I believe I must esteem the last as 
the greatest I ever received : to stay from College prayers, 
where your time would have been so well employed, was 
an indulgence I acknowledge with many thanks. 

Poor Ha Ha has undergone great misfortunes, he 
must take a companion of another kind to make amends 
for those he has lost. I saw him one night at the play : 
he stood just behind me, and I was in an agony to ask 
him after you : you can't think what a struggle it was 
to me to deny myself that vast satisfaction. Wliat is 
" Monsieur Fenelon V You shall have Cyrus as soon as 
I can get him. Adieu, I am ever yours. I go to-night 
to the opera with Lady Oxford. 

^ In the list of deaths appended to the London Magazine for December 
1738, occurs the following : — " Henry Wise, Esq., chief gardener to King 
William, Q. Anne, and King George I." 


When friendship snch as yours our hours Bless 
It soothes our cares and makes affliction — Less. 
Opprest by woes from you I'rn sure to — Find 
A sovereign cure for my distempered — Mind ; 
At court or play, in field or shady — Grove, 
No pkce can yield delight without your — Zove. 

When me, with your commands you Bless, 
My time is yours, nor can I offer — Less. 
There so much truth and love I — Find, 
That with content it fills my — Mind; 
Happy to live in unfrequented — Qrove, 
Assured of faithful Nanny's — Love. 

Although T have received a letter in the packet that 
came from Gloucester to Brickhill, I cannot say I am 
satisfied ; three posts have passed and no letter except 
that — which was without a date. My dearest sister must 
excuse my troublesome fears, but where two such friends 
as my mother and yourself are the constant object of my 
tenderest thoughts, I cannot help yielding to my appre- 
hensions when I miss hearing from you, but I know 
you blame my weakness, and think your sister a sim- 
pleton. You are very merry about your new habita- 
tion ; I wish you merry in it. I am glad you won't 
want light, but I doubt, by your account, yoM will be 
very much troubled with 2cind. Alas ! you would fain 
make a poet of me ; the words^ you sent me are soft 
and pretty, and I have aimed to tell you by their 
means a small part of what I feel, but I find it a 
great difficulty to express my sentiments on that score, 
but you must think the rest for me. Pray tell me the 
meaning of your sending those words ? I ought to be 

* " The words " sent alluded to the rhymes wl ich were filled up. Sending 
rhymes to each other, " Bout rimes," appears to have been a favourite amuse- 
ment with the ladies of that period. 



even with you and put you to your wit's end in return, 
therefore make sense of these six words — tender, render, 
joy, hoy, fasting, lasting. I dined yesterday at Lady 
Suns, her girl is very well, and like Dada. I will take 
care of your letter to France, but you must not direct 
any more in that manner. Dinner is just ready, and I 
undrest. Adieu. 

I am faithfully yours, 


My humble duty and service, as due. Pray don't for- 
get to date your letters. 

25th November, 1727. 

When I finished the other side of my paper I was 
afraid I should not find time to add to it, but I have 
stole away to say a little more. I have read so much 
of philosophy lately that I am convinced there is 
no real happiness but in a faithful friend. As Doctor 
Swift says to his Vanessa, it is a " rational delight,'^ 
it fills the mind with generous motives, and I must 
have a mean opinion of those that call it romantic : it 
is the most improper name for it in the world, for 
the foundation of a worthy friendship is truth. People 
may fancy themselves in love, and work up their 
imagination to such a pitch as to really believe them- 
selves possessed of that passion, but I never yet 
heard of anybody's carrying friendship on by mere 
imagination. Herminius is really a pretty boy, but 
I fear he is not so bright within as without, but travel- 
ling will improve his judgment and fancy. Mr. Wise 
is now here, and presents his humble duty to mama 
and you ; he writ her a letter some time ago, which he 
hopes she has received. Last Wednesday was per- 


formed the musick in honour of St. Cecilia at the Crown 
Tavern. Dubourg was the first fiddle, and every- 
body says he exceeds all the Italians, even his master 
Geminiani. Senesino, Cuzzoni and Faustina sung there 
some of the best songs out of several operas, and the 
whole performance was far beyond any opera. I was 
very unlucky in not speaking to Dubourg about it, for 
he told me this morning he could have got me in with 
all the ease in the world. One piece of extraordinary 
news I had almost forgot to tell you, the Duchess of 
Buckingham and Doctor Chamberlayne are parted, she 
has no further business for him, and so has sent him 
home to his wife. 

I doubt operas will not survive longer than this winter, 
they are now at their last gasp ; the subscription is expired 
and nobody will renew it. The directors are always 
squabbling, and they have so many divisions among them- 
selves that I wonder they have not broke up before ; Sene- 
sino goes away next winter, and I believe Faustina, 
so you see harmony is almost out of fashion. I have 
been making up some packets of musick for Dublin. 
Our friends are certainly safe there, but the wind 
continues contrary for the return of the packet boats. 
I beg pardon for not having lately enquired after your 
pussey, I hope she is well : all the animals belonging 
to this house are in good case. Pray let me know how 
the fish proves. I expect an answer to every paragraph. 
I believe this is the fourth letter you have to answer. 
Once more farewell. 

I am eternally yours. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Friday, New Year's Day, 1727-8. 

I must again repeat my wishes for my dearest sister, 
that she may be blessed with many very happy new 
years ; nothing can be more self-interested than I am 
in that wish, my peace of life depends upon it. You 
are the " cordial drop heaven in my cup has throvm^" and 
I unwillingly submitted last post to a painful silence. 
Our mornings, to tell you the truth, are strangely dangled, 
and I, who am no friend to idleness, am obliged to 
saunter away a great deal of time. Mrs. Tellier's ill 
health makes her lye long a-bed in a morning. I am 
summoned to breakfast at my aunt's tea-table, the cere- 
mony of which generally lasts till twelve ! By that time 
the necessary duties of the morning are over, part of 
which the toilette engrosses, 'tis two or three ; then what 
time have I to write ? why, after dinner ! and then I am 
liable to impertinent visits, or am engaged to go abroad. 

This sketch of my life is to show you that it is, some 
days, impossible for me to find an hour to write. There 
is nothing that can make me amends for robbing myself 
of one moment's conversation with you, but I frequently 
meet with those interruptions, or my letters should be 
as regular as the return of the day. Thus far of my 
epistle was writ last night. I have received my dear 
mama's obliging letter and your P.S., and will pay my 
duty and thanks next post in a more particular manner. 

I am glad Mr. Stanley has made you a visit ; I find he 
knew what could make him welcome. I suppose the 
young lellow was Bob Scawen : I assure you he could 
have give you a full and true account of all our pranks 


at Tunbridge. His father and mother, I believe, are the 
two most miserable parents that ever lived : they have 
had abundance of children, all very handsome except Bob 
and his eldest brother. One of her daughters, that was 
married to a Mr. Trenchard, cut her own throat. Sir John 
Shelly's^ lady (who was another) broke her neck off of her 
horse, another daughter has been almost distracted with 
the vile usage of her husband, and about a fortnight ago 
the eldest son, who is immensely rich, run quite mad. 
Sir Thomas is a downright alderman, but my Lady 
Scawen is a sensible, well-bred, religious woman as ever 
was bom, but was so miserable as to be mad herself at 
times, but at all other times a woman of excellent conduct 
in every respect, I think I never knew a more melancholy 
relation, but we may learn from them that riches will 
not procure happiness ; for they are possest of all the 
plenty and affluence of fortune imaginable. I beg your 
pardon for telling you so sad a tale ; but the moral is good, 
how thankfull ought we to be to Providence that we 
have no such terrors to struggle with ; nay, I think I 
shoidd sooner envy a beggar the quiet possession of his 
morsel than these poor people's greatness and riches, 
embittered with the sorrows they feel. 

I believe I never told you of poor Mr. Head's death : 
you must remember we joked with Mrs. Peyton about 
him. He died about a month ago very suddenly, to the 
great grief of his acquaintance, for they say he was a very 
honest good young man. 

I am going to dine with Lady Sunderland, and am to 
go to the opera with her. Mrs. Hyde made me a visit 

1 Sir John Shelly, 4th Baronet of that name, married first, Catherine, 
daughter of Alderman Sir Thomas Scawen, Knt. 


yesterday ; her youngest son has had a violent fever, and 
my goddaughter is so ill in the country that she fears 
she can't recover. Sir John Stanley complains of his 
spirits and want of sleep and appetite, which alarms us 
very much, it being the same time of year he was taken 
ill before, but I hope it is only a little effect of the 
spleen, and when the weather is better that he wiU also 
brighten up. I had a very kind long letter last post 
from Lady Carteret, with a copy of verses made by a lady, 
which I designed sending you this post, but last night I 
showed them to Piggy, and she seized them and said I 
should not have them again till next post. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

Somerset House, 19th Jan, 1727-8. 

My Dearest Sister, 

O may I long the sacred pleasures know 
Of strictest amity, nor ever want 
A friend, with whom T mutually may share 
Gladness and anguish, hy kind intercourse 
• Of speech and offices. May in my mind 
Indelible a grateful sense remain 
Of favours undeserved I 

Mr. Philips^s Poem on Cydtr} 

Since my confinement at home, among other things to 
divert me, I have read " Cyder, a Poem." I have it in very 
great veneration, and the above written words speaking 
my own sentiments, I could not help transcribing them, 
though I believe you are very well acquainted with 
them. I thank you for your letter, which came into my 

1 Mr. John Philips, son of Dr. Stephen Philips, Archdeacon of Salop, was 
born, December 30th, 1676, at Bampton in Oxfordshire, educated at Christ- 
church, Oxford, under Dr. Aldrich. He wrote "The Splendid Shilling," 
" Blenheim," " Cyder, a Poem," and several odes. He died at Hereford, 
I5th of February, 1708. 


hands last night. I am now perfectly recovered of all my 
complaints, and am sorry I gave you or mama a moment's 
anxiety. I am so little used to sickness, that I fancy 
myself very bad when anything ails me, though it should 
be but a pain in my finger, but I assure you I am now 
as well as ever I was in my life. Sir John is pretty well, 
but my aunt is very much out of order ; Mrs. TeUier has 
been very ill too, but is now better, in short we have 
been a crazy family. Yesterday I dined with Lady Sun- 
derland. Bess is always complaining. Your harpsichord 
is not yet come ; when it does I vnR do my best about it. 
You may keep the Fables a month longer if you please. 
To-night I go to the opera with Lady Oxford. 

Next Thursday there will be a masquerade in the Hay- 
market ; I believe I shall make one among them ; if I do, 
I wiU give you a faithful account of aU transactions there. 
Next Monday I go to the new play, which is very much 
applauded, everybody that has seen it commends it ex- 
tremely. I go with Lady Peyton. Yesterday in the 
afternoon I made some visits — Lady How,' Duchess of 
Manchester, Mrs. Percival, Mrs. Cavendish and Mrs. 
Page;^ found none at home but the last, who, poor 
woman, has had a melancholy confinement; her name 
was How, a sister of my Lady Pembroke's,^ an extremely 

1 Lady Howe. Sir Eichard Howe, who represented the county of Wilts in 
nine parliaments, married, in 1673, Mary, daughter of Sir Henry Frederick 
Thynne, Bart., of Kempsford, Gloucestershire, and sister of Thomas, 1st 
Viscount We}Tnouth. They had no children : he died in 1730, and his 
widow in 1735. 

' Judith, wife of Thomas Page, Esq., of Battlesden, co. Bedford, second son 
of Sir Gregory Page of Greenwich, in Kent, Bart. ; was the second daughter of 
Scroop, 1st Viscount Howe, by his second wife Juliana, daughter of William 
Lord Allington. Mrs. Page survived her husband, and died in 1780. 

* Mary, daughter of Scroop, 1st Viscount Howe, and third wife of the 8th 
Earl of Pembroke. 


pretty woman. Mr. Page married her for love ; her 
fortune, which was but three thousand pounds, she 
gave, with his consent, to her youngest sister. He is 
immensely rich, and has vast expectations, for Sir 
Gregory Page ^ his brother is worth three hundred thou- 
sand pounds at least, has been married several years and 
has no children. This poor gentleman for sixteen years 
has been subject to a violent pain in one of his legs, the 
effects of a fever ; his torment has been inexpressible, he 
would roar so loud that they could hear him across the 
street, — a terrible sound for a wife who loves him. At 
last a surgeon that was accidentally called in, (for he 
has been sadly mangled and at last resolved to cut his 
leg,) opened his leg and screwed out a piece of the 
b^ne, and has taken out the marrow, and since that 
they say he has recovered wonderfully. 

When that visit was over I returned to Lady Sunder- 
land, and we went together to the Princess Boyal's, where 
was a vast crowd of people, and I returned home about nine 
o' the clock. Lord Thanet ^ is dead. He has left but one 
daughter unmarried, Lady Bell Tuffcon, a handsome black 

' Gregory Page of Greenwich, an eminent merchant, was created a baronet 
Deer. 3rd, 1714. He was for many years a Director of the East India Company, 
and M.P. for Shoreham. He married Mary, daughter of Thomas Trotman, 
citizen of London, and died May 25, 1720. Tlieir eldest son, Sir Gregory 
Page of Wricklemarth in Kent, married Mrs. Martha Kenward, but liad no 
children, and dying at the age of 90, in 1775, his property descended to his 
great nephew, and the baronetcy became extinct. The Page-Turner family, 
baronets of Ambosden, now possess the Page estates as descendants from the 
sister of the last Sir Gregory. 

2 Thomas Tuftou, Earl of Thanet, born August 30, 1644, married August 
14, 1684, Catherine, daughter and coheir of Henry Cavendish, Duke of New- 
castle. He died July 30, 1729, leaving five daughters ; the youngest, Isabella, 
was married subsequently to the Lord Nassau Paulet, brother to the Duke of 
Bolton. — Collins' s Peerage. 


woman; her fortune two thousandpounds, which her father 
has left her with this proviso, not to marry Lord Xassau 
Paulet — a hard injunction, as they have long had an in- 
clination for one another. His estate is about two thousand 
a year, but my Lord Thane t, not thinking it sufficient for 
his daughter, forbids the banes ; I have no patience with 
his memory, for who can judge of our happiness but our- 
selves, and if one thousand pound a year and a great deal 
of love will content me, better than ten thousand with 
indifference, it is the reasonable part to choose that which 
will give me the most satisfaction. I have no notion of 
love and a knapsack, but I cannot think riches the only 
thing that ought to be considered in matrimony : how- 
ever this will prove Lord Nassau's love, if he does not 
persist in his addresses to her now. I have not seen the 
Missons ^ or Moodys a great while, not having been 
abroad these twelve days. 

" Epicurus declares it his opinion, that wisdom among 
all the ingredients of happiness, has not a nobler, a 
richer, or a more dehghtful one than friendship." I 
could hug the old philosophers, whenever I meet with 
a passage that speaks my own sentiments. The book 
which has obliged me with this sentence, has no meaner 
person for its author than Cicero, the title is " Tully of 
Moral Ends." I have read but half yet, and though I quote 
Epicurus, I at present have no vast opinion of him, but 
Cicero charms me with his eloquence, and I am delighted 
to have that sensual philosopher confuted in his false 
notions. I believe you may borrow the book if you have 

* The Historical Ecgistcr of 1722 records, January 12 : " Died Maximilian 
Misson, Esq., author of the 'Voyage to Italy,' in four volumes." Probably 
" the Missons," mentioned by Mrs. Pendarves in 1728, were of his family. 


a mind to read, or I will try and borrow it for you. But 
now I must discourse with you about some certain 
manuscripts of more importance and value to me, as they 
speak the tender friendship of my dearest sister. I 
designed writing to you last post, which was Tuesday ; 
had pen and ink before me for that purpose, and they 
brought me up word there was " a gentleman below who 
desired to speak to me about a servant that had lived 
once with me," (a brother of John Treubattis). Upon my 
permission up comes the gentleman, so spruce and so 
finical you would have sworn he had been just taken 
out of a box of cotton. Smirking, he sat down, and from 
the hour of twelve till past one, did he entertain me 
with the economy of his family; and gave me to 
understand he lived with " my lady," " his mother ;" he 
kept four stout horses that will work fifty mile a day, 
many servants, and is never drunk ; — in short the thing 
talked over his own perfections so much, that I am in 
some doubt whether he had not a mind to offer his 
service to me ; but the conversation was broke off by 
Mrs. Badge^ giving three gentle taps with her fan at the 
door, upon which Essence made me a bow and desired me 
to command him, and so retired. You may easily guess 
how provoked I was ; he talked so ridiculously that I was 
forced to bite my lips to refrain laughing. 

Yesterday I received one of your favours, and am 
also indebted to you for that conveyed by Mr. Skin, who 
with me has not yet been. I have taken care of all the 
enclosed letters. Great news stirring : Lady Betty 
Berkeley, daughter to the Earl of that name, being almost 

* "ilfrs. Badge " was evidently an old waiting-woman. 



fifteen, has thought it time to be married, and ran away 
last week with Mr. Henley ^ a man noted for his impru- 
dence and immorality, but a good estate and a beau — 
irresistible charms in these days. The next I present 
you with is an old fool known and distinguished by the 
title of Duchess of Buckingham "^ going to be married to 
Monsieur Visconti, the Duchess of Slirewsbury's relic. 
The Duchess of Kingston,^ they say, is actually married 
to my Lord Clare ;* she may be his mother, but that's 
nothing, she has grown weary of a single life, and he is 
poor and glad of a maintenance at any rate. Sir John 
Hobart^ is married to Miss Bristol, and 'tis reported 

' The Lady Elizabeth Berkeley, daughter of James, 3rd Earl of Berkeley' 
married, February 11, 1727-8, Anthony Henley, Esq., elder brother of Robert, 
1st Earl of Northington. She died in 1745. 

' C'atherine, illegitimate daughter of King James the Second, and of 
C'atherine Sedley, widow of James Earl of Anglesea, and of John Sheffield, 
Duke of Buckingham, to whom she was the third wife. Her son Edmund 
Sheffield, 2ud Duke of Buckingham, died at Rome, a minor, in 1735. 

' Evelyn, Duke of Kingston, married, first, the Lady Mary Fielding, 
secondly, August 2, 1714, the Lady Isabella Bentinck, fifth and youngest 
daughter of William, Earl of Portland, (by his first wife.) She died at Paris 
on February 23, 1727-8, leaving two daughters. 

'' There was a renowned series of O'Briens, Lords of Clare, of which Daniel, 
the 3rd Viscount, fought for King James the Second, at the battle of the 
Boyne ; Daniel, the 4th Viscount, accompanied that king to France ; Charles, 
the 5th Viscount, was mortally wounded at the battle of Ramilies ; and Charles, 
the 6th Viscount, heir to the Marquisate of Thomond, who won for Louis the 
Fifteenth, the battle of Fontenoy, (1745,) who must have been the " Lord 
Clare" mentioned by Mrs. Delany, as "a Frenchman" in 1724, and in 1728. 
He died in 1761, and on the decease of his son Charles, the 7th Viscount, in 
1774, the male line of the race became extinct. The memory of the 6th 
Lord Clare has been renewed by the " Ballad of the Brigade," by Thomas 
Davis — "Thrice at the huts of Fontenoy," &c., but neither of the O'Brien 
Clares married a Duchess of Kingston. 

* " Married February 10, 1728, Sir John Hobart of Blicking, in the county 
of Norfolk, Knight of the Bath and Baronet, to Mrs. Bristow," — Chro7iological 
Diai-y for 1728. In the last century it was usual to pronounce the town of 
Bristol as " Bristow" it is therefore probable that Mrs. Pendarves wrote the 
name of the bride alluded to as she was accustomed to write the name of the 
town of Bristol. 


Lord Blandford is married at Paris, but I have not heard 
to whom — I wish it was to one of my cousins. Yesterday 
I was at the rehearsal of the new opera composed by 
Handel : I like it extremely, but the taste of the town 
is so depraved, that nothing will be approved of but the 
burlesque. The Beggars' Opera entirely triumphs over 
the Italian one ; I have not yet seen it, but everybody 
that has seen it, says it is very comical and full of humour ; 
the songs will soon be published, and I will send them 
to you. 

To-morrow night I go again to see the Westminster 
boys act Julius Ceasar ; it is bespoke by the King and 
Queen ; it is acted at the theatre over against the opera 
house. Julius Ceasar performed by my Lord Danby, 
Mark Anthony a Mr. Eoberts, Brutus Master Hay 
(a son of my Lord Kenoule), these parts are done to per- 
fection, Cassius, Lord Middlesex, son to the Duke of 
Dorset, a handsome creature. Portia and Octavius by 
his two brothers. I am infinitely obliged to the dear 
Unity s ^ for remembering me. I doubt in their heart they 
think me unworthy of their regard, having in appearance 
neglected answering the favour of their letters, but I 
declare it is want of time. I do a thousand disagreeable 
unavoidable things, and I have it not to say I am mistress 
of my time, for I must comply with those I live with, 
which makes me lose some agreeable moments. Poor 
Mary is in great sorrow, her mother is dead. I have 
often promised to pay her humble duty to my mother 
and yourself, she had the news last night. 

^ A family of the name of Unet. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne QranviUe. 

29th Fel/., 1727-8. 

To-morrow is the Queen's birthday. Great preparations 
are made for it : abundance of embroidery. I once 
thought of going, but upon second thoughts I changed my 
mind. We are just going to Northend to avoid the 
bustle of the day, and return on Sunday night to be 
ready for the entry of the Dutch Ambassador on Monday. 
Yesterday Mrs. Peyton and I went to Court in the morn- 
ing ; I afterwards dined with the family of the Peytons 
and Dashwoods, and supped. Sir Tom was brighter than 
ordinary, which makes me fancy Cymon has met with an 
Iphigenia. We were very merry, and sung the Beggars' 
Opera, talked, and wished for my mama and you, but all 
in vain. By Monday's coach I will send the chocolate 
and tea, and the new plays, and a tippet^ of my own 
making and invention, which I desire your acceptance of. 

After the birthday I believe everybody will go into 
colours, except at Court ; if there is any alteration in the 
fashions I will tell you. The curly murly fashion of the 
hair is not much worn now. The town is mussy, though 
very full. I have not been at an assemblee this winter, 
but I will go to my Lady Strafford's ^ to put me in mind 

* The tippet here mentioned was probahly made of feathers. A most heau- 
tiful tippet of this description has been preserved, and is still in existence. 
It is long, narrow, and flat, lined with white satin, made to fit the neck, and 
fall with long ends over the chest. The principal feathers are those of the 
macaw, dark blue gentianella colour relieved with scarlet, and interspersed 
with small feathers of the canary bird. 

2 The Lady Strafford of 1727-8, &c., was Ann, daughter and heir of Sir 
Henry Johnson, of Bradenham in the county of Bucks, and wife of Thomas 
Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, Baron of Eaby, K.G., and a Baronet, a dis- 
tinguished military commander and diplomatist. The Earl died in 1739, and 
Countess in 1754. 


of some happy hours I have had there with you ; 
though they never are out of my memory, but I love 
those places best where we have been together. The Opera 
will not survive after this winter ; I wish I was a poet 
worthy the honour of writing its elegy. I am certain 
excepting some few, the English have no real taste 
for musick ; for if they had, they could not neglect an 
entertainment so perfect in its kind for a parcel of ballad 
singers. I am so peevish about it, that I have no 
patience. Mr. Voltaire's Henriade is not yet come out ; 
'tis writ in French, which for your sake I am sorry for. 
You may remember in his criticism on Milton, a passage 
he takes notice of, and finds great fault with — of the 
allegory of Sin and Death, upon which my Lord Harvey 
(who by-the-by has been dying) said of Voltaire, who 
has not the reputation of being the best man in the 

" So much confusion, so wicked and so thin, 
He seems at 07ice a Chaos, Death, and Sin." 

He spoke it extempore. Let me know if you have seen 
the ballad on the King's speech, if not I will send it you. 
I have this moment had a letter from my brother 
Bevil ; he has had a bad cold, but is now much better. 
Our Irish friends talk of coming the middle of April. 
Yesterday morning I had a visit from my sister Living- 
stone ;^ she grows younger and younger, I never saw her 
so brisk and lively. I writ you word Mr. Kemp was 
retired to Devonshire. I had a letter from Lucy Worth, 
who enquired after my mama and you. I don't know 
if I writ you word of my Lady Ogle ; she is in a fair way 
of doing well. Mr. Page, who has been in such torment 

* Livingstone, (?) sister of Mr. Pendaisres, who married the Scotchman ? 


with his leg, is now under a salivation ; for they dare 
not heal it up without he submitted to that sad medium. 
Mrs. Page is a mighty agreeable creature. Mrs. Grace ^ 
comes here almost every day ; she never fails drinking 
your health, and would not forgive me if I omitted her 
duty and service to her aunt and cousin Nanny. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann ChranviUe. 

My Dear Sister, 12th March, 1728. 

Should have heard from me last post, but I took 
that day to make a visit to Lady Sunderland, not having 
had the pleasure of seeing her in above a fortnight ; and 
Sunday we went to Northend and took the lover (Mon- 
sieur Bury) with us ; he seems very much enamoured, but 
talks more reasonably than generally people do under his 
circumstances. He is to be a happy man in a month or 
six weeks. We returned last night. I am in a hurry, as 
you may guess by the distance of my words and lines, 
but I will jumble together all the news I have heard. 

First 'tis said that Lady Mary Capel and Mr. Mor- 
daunt have taken pet at one another, and that match is 
broke off. Lady Harriot Hamilton will shortly be yoked 
to Lord Boyle, son to my Lord Orrery ; and Mr. Clinton,^ 
brother to Lord Lincoln, was married last week to one 
of the Miss Carls, the youngest of them. The pre- 
liminaries of the peace is settled, and all that grand affair 
is almost at at an end. 

' Honourable Grace Granville, daughter of Lord Lansdowne. 

2 The Hon. George Clinton, second son of Francis, 6th Earl of Lincoln, was an 
eminent naval officer, and died Senior Admiral of the White in 1761. He 
married Anne, daughter and heiress of Major-General the Honourable Peter 

VOL. I. M 


Sir Robert Walpole and Mr. Pulteney are very hot 
every day about the debts of the nation, and nobody 
understands them but themselves. I shall go to the 
opera to-night I believe. I have sent to Lady Sunderland 
to know if she has any room in her box. To-morrow 
morning an opera is to be rehearsed ; I have not heard 
of the fame of it, its name nor author. The last is a 
charming piece of musick, but quite neglected for the 
Beggars' Opera. I sent by a gentleman who came from 
Mr. Skin ^ last Friday, three pounds of chocolate at 
four shillings per pound, one pound of Bohea thirteen 
shillings, a little box with some plays, and the tippet. 
When lampreys come in, I shall be glad to have as 
many potts sent me as will come to the money I have 
laid out in the chocolate and tea, which is twenty-five 
shillings. I would have them when they are plenty 
enough for me to have ten or twelve potts for that money. 

Mrs. Badge has just come in, and desires me to pre- 
sent her most humble duty to my mama and your lady- 
ship ; she grunts mightily, poor woman, but I hope 
the sun will revive her, as it does the butterflies. Con- 
sidering I begun my letter with an apology for the haste 
I was in, I have played m}'^ part very well with you. 

I believe I wrote you word Miss ThornhiU ^ was come 
to town. Mrs. Boper has just made us a visit, and 
enquired after you. 

I am, my dearest sister, 

Most afiectionate and faithful, 
M. Pendarves. 

^ A carrier. 

« Johanna, third daughter of Sir Bevil Granville, married Colonel Richard 
ThornhilL Miss ThornhiU was probably a member of this family. 


* Mn. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranviUe. 

Somerset House, 14 March, 1727-8. 

I desire you will introduce the Beggars' Opera at 
Glocester ; you must sing it everywhere but at church, if 
you have a mind to be like the polite world. 1 was 
last Tuesday at the Italian Opera with the club, 'twas 
sweet and lovely : it gave me infinite pleasure, and 
you accompanied every delightfull note. I have under- 
taken a large sheet of paper, but I doubt neither my 
will nor my time will hold out to the end of it. I 
have this morning writ a long letter to m}'- uncle 
Lansdown. Yesterday my aunt Stanley received a letter 
from my brother Bev., I am sorry he has an ague, 
although it is in the spring. I dine to-day at Mrs. 
Dashwood's ; next month S' John spends at Northend. 
The eighth chair is now in hand, and is to be finished 
forthwith ; the frames are making, they are for the new 
room at Northend. 

The Alderman's name' I danced with is Micajah Perry, 
a married man and as blind as a beetle, so I was in no 
danger of being liked or disliked ; but I won't have a 
fusty alderman unless he was Lord Mayor elect ! As for 
your rural squires I detest them, and your town fops are 
my abomination. Tom Titt's'^ eyes are very smart, and 
look as if they did not belong to the sockets they are 
placed in. The Doctor is still in the country, and going 

1 " February 24, 1728, Micajah Perry, Esq., unanimously elected Alderman 
of Aldgate Ward, in the room of Sir Francis Porteen, Knt., deceased." — 
Historical Begister for 1728. 

2 Sir Thomas Peyton. 



to his studies at Cambridge. Monsieur Bury's goddess's 
name is Hutchinson, a young lady of an extraordinary 
good character. Well, my dearest sister, don't think me 
the maddest thing in the world for writing such a rantum 
scantum letter ; my spirits are very alert to-day, and I 
don't know why. I am to be curled and friz'd, and 
am not yet a bit dressed ; I can no longer rob my toilette 
of my person, but must take my leave of you for this 


Penelope Darves. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Qranville, in Oloncester. 

Somerset House, 19 March, 1727-8. 

I was just returned from making my Court last night, 
when your letter came to my hands. Yesterday was a 
very racketing day with me, for at noon the sun shone 
very bright, and enticed me and Miss Thornhill to take 
a turn in St. James's Park ; we went, but, alas ! the wind 
and the dust had like to have demolished us : we made 
the best haste we could into our chairs and went to 
Piggy's.^ I returned home with an intention to sit 
sedate till Court hour, but I found a message from Mrs. 
Hyde, wherein she begged I would dine with her, 
and afterwards go to a concert of musick with her, 
which I could not refuse. I thought it barbarous 
to disappoint one who has so few pleasures in this 
life. Matrimony ! I marry ! Yes, there's a blessed scene 
before my eyes of the comforts of that state. — A sick 
husband, squalling brats, a cross mother-in-law, and a 

' "Piggy." The Editor has not been able to discover the real name of this 
lady, but it might possibly be one of the Bellenden family. 


thousand unavoidable impertinences ; no, no, sister mine, 
it must be a "Basilisk" indeed : but stop my rage ! be 
not too fierce. I may be dashed on the very rock I endea- 
vour to avoid, and therefore I will say no more against a 
station of life which in the opinion of some people is not 
in our power to prevent, 

" If Fate be not, then what can we foresee ?" 
Or how can we avoid it if it be ?" 

But you are a mere wag, sister, to think London 
ladies such gudgeons as to bite at anything. I am sorry 
for the poor man's fever, but my conscience does no 
way accuse me of being accessary to it. You have said a 
great many pretty things for him, or if they were his 
own 'tis likely, since his fever is so high, that he was 
delirious when he uttered so many things to my advan- 
tage. I desire you will persue the scheme of performing 
the Beggars' Opera, but you must defer it till I come to 
you, for I put in for the part of Mrs. Slamikin ! I must 
say you was a little unconsionable to expect a letter last 
post : you think wit springs up as fast as mushrooms. 
You are mightily mistaken, a very little now-adays goes 
a great way — all the butterfly men were at Court last 
night, no great plenty of females. 

Last Sunday I staid in town on purpose to hear my 
friend Mr. Williams preach at Whitehall : he gave us 
an excellent practical sermon. I dined with him after- 
wards at Lady Peyton's. Sir Tom is gone out of town 
for a week or ten days. I supped with the family the 
night before he went, and he laid aside Spadill and all 
his mistical healths to toast my dearest sister by her own 
proper name, which has inclined me a little to him. 

Operas are something mended within this fortnight ; 


they are much fuller than they have been any time this 
winter. Captain Elliott was at the Cour last night, he 
has been returned from his quarters about a fortnight. 
He asked after pretty Miss Scudamore/ I told him she 
had been ill and you had nursed her, so he had some 
obligation to you ; he conducted me to my chair. 

Lord Hermitage ^ is at Nottingham, where he deverts 
himself very well, for he visits all the ladies whether 
they will or not. Pray is not Miss Sally Blizzard a 
Sadler's daughter ; for he told me the town of Glouces- 
ter was so obliging as to say he was in love with such a 
one ! Lady Sun was here last night, and left word I 
must go to Court with her this morning, and I suppose 
go to the opera at night. 

.Mrs. Pendarvts to Mrs, Ann Granville. 

April 16th, 1728. 

I am indebted to you, my dearest sister, for a very kind 
letter. I expect a faithfull account of all your doings at 
the assizes. I think my mama had best tye you by the 
leg, for fear some of the lawyers should clap you into 
their bag, for you are a portable thing and not much 
heavier than a bundle of papers, though a person of great 
consequence. If you did not tiff out for the fine men, it 
was out of arrogance and pride, you thought your native 

* The Hon. Frances Scudamore, horn in 1711, only child of James, 3rd Vis- 
count Scudamore. She married first in 1729, Henry Somerset, 3rd Duke of 
Beaufort ; and second, Charles Fitzroy Scudamore, Esq. Her only child, 
Frances Scudamore, married, in 1731, Charles Howard, 11th Duke of Norfolk. 

,^ Francis Scott, eldest son of Henry, 1st Earl of Deloraine, was the Lord 
Hermitage alluded to as being then at Nottingham. 


cliarnis were sufficient, and scorned to be obliged to any 
ornament for the conquests of your eyes. Northend has 
all the beauties of Arcadia — the trees, the water, the 
nightingales, the flowers all now are gay and serene ; 
only now and then a gentle breeze serves as a thorough 
bass to the singing birds. But as for a Celadon we have 
no room nor desire for one. If such a mad nymph as 
Annabella were here, I don't doubt but those kind of ani- 
mals would find encouragement, but I will have you 
know that I have a forbidding way, and make them keep 
their distance. Enclosed I have sent you Sally's ^ 
letter ; pray take care of it, and send it me by the first 
opportunity, but I desire you will read this first, for you 
can never bear these trifles after her solidity. Mr. 
William Stanley talks of taking a tour to Gloucester 
some time this week. I am very much obliged to you, 
my dear sister, for all the trouble you have taken about 
Mr. Gibbs : I wish he was more worthy of it, but I hope 
he is not quite so bad as he is represented. 

Oh the charming month of May — charming, charming 
month of May. June succeeds May, and please God I 
will be with you before the first of July. Never did 
woman take so much pains about love powder as I have 
done about " cassia," and am now as wise as I was a fort- 
night ago. What they give me for it can never be what 
3'ou mean, for there is no possibility of sending it in a 
letter, therefore be pleased to describe the thing to me, 
for neither apothecary, druggist, nor confectioner can 
tell me what I mean when I ask for it ; and they desire 
me to tell them what kind of a thing it is. I believe 
you meant I should ask for it on the first of April, but 

' Sally, (Sarali Kirkham,) Mrs. Csl\>ou. 


to be serious, there is two or three sorts, and you must be 
more particular before I can supply you. 

Mr. Mulinex ^ is dead, the rabbit merchant ; he married 
a sister of my Lord Essex's. Last week as we were 
sauntering agreeably in the King's Road to take a little 
air, we met Princess Amelia in her way to the Bath. She 
is carried in a chair, not being able to bear the motion of 
a coach : our coach was very close to her, and she looked 
smiling and pretty, bowed to us all, and asked who we were. 
I wish the Bath may do her good, for she has lived hitherto 
a life of misery, and everybody commends her temper. 
I hear our Irish friends will be here the first week in 
May, but I doubt not till the later end of the month. 
I will a scandal upon your sheriff if he does not 
give you a ball. Pray what cavaliers have you now at 
Gloucester, or have they all forsaken your noble city ? 
Where is Harry Harvey ? his brother, my lord, they say 
is past recovery. My Lord Essex has lost his only son, 
but a new match at Newmarket will dispel the grief. 
Sir John has his health perfectly well. I doubt my aunt is 
very bad, but she will not own it, nor do any one thing 
she is ordered. They constantly drink your healths, 
and desire me to make their compliments, as doth Mrs. 
Tellier, who is now hard at work. 

1 The Lady Elizabeth Capel, third daughter of Algernon, 2nd Earl of Eseex, 
" married first, (says Sir E. Brydges,) on April 5, 1727, to Samuel Molineu-x, 
Esq., Secretary to George the Second when Prince of Wales ; secondly, on 
May 27, 1730, to Nathaniel St. Andre, Esq., and died on March 21, 1759." 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann GranviUe. 

Northend, 27 April, 1728. 

Thougli Mrs. Belenden and Miss Thornhill are just 
arrived, I have withdrawn myself from their presence to 
pass an hour or so with my dearest sister, though they 
abuse me and say I am always talking of writing letters, 
to make the world believe I have a good knack at it. 
Every place to me is a lonely desert without you, and I 
had more pleasure in walking through the dusty lanes at 
Ealing, than in the beautifullest gardens that ever art 
and nature conspired to embelish ; we saunter every day 
and lead as dull a life as Prior's " John and Joan." I long 
to have some opportunity of saying everytliing I think, 
and doing as I please ; but notwithstanding I meet with 
great indulgences I have a sort of awe upon me that will 
not permitt me either to say or do so much as I verily 
believe without offence I might. 

We have been in the coach this morning all round 
Chiswick — the sun was as bright as your eyes; it now 
rains most violently, and the wind rattles the sashes 
about my ears. How sudden an alteration ! and how true 
an emblem of most things in life ! everything is mutable, 
but friendship built upon the never-failing basis of truth 
and honour, and I may without presumption say ours is 
such. There are a thousand amusements and advantages 
in life you have at present no opportunity of obtaining, 
and which whenever they do come in your way, I am sure 
you will make an excellent use of, but nature has boun- 
teously supplied the want of art, and has given you a turn 
of mind that makes you superior to your fellow-creatures 
with all the adornments of the most polite education, and 


I think it more glory for you to be author of such letters 
as you make me happy with, than to have borne away the 
bell at a splendid birthday. I know I offend your modesty, 
but as I speak from my soul you must forgive me ; I 
would rather you had heard I said this of you than 
write it you, but I cannot help doing you this little 
justice, which is but a very small part of what I think. 
You must send Sally the letter, and I will charge her to 
return it, but for fear I should not have an opportunity 
of writing to her so soon as I wish to do, I desire you 
will send her word that I require it at your hands again. 
Alas ! sister, it is well for me that my indifference secures 
me from languishing, for I may walk and sigh, and write 
verses and all these pretty amusements without any 
other effect than growing lean, for the scarcity of agree- 
able men is as great here as at Gloster. But I have no 
romantic symptoms, I sleep well, and eat well, and when 
my thoughts are so employed as to make me forgetful 
of my company, it is only of a female that I think ! 

You are certainly in the right in saying that we create 
the greatest part of our miseries by the uneasiness of our 
own tempers. I never had one to vex me extremely, but 
when it has been over, and I have examined the cause of 
it strictly, I have been convinced I had no reason for 
half the unhappiness I had felt. I hope this reflection 
will be of service to me, but I can be very courageous 
when danger is out of sight. I know none of General 
Evans's blusterers, but pray keep Harry Harvey and the 
mountebank till I come, that they may divert me; I don't 
wonder the stage is erected under your window, for the 
doctor I suppose designs you should slay for him, to 
show his skill in bringing people to life again. Lord 


Hervey is recovered I guess, for I met him one day last 
week with Mrs. Oldfield in her coach. Did I talk of " an 
aldeirman " and "purling streams,'' sure I did not ? but I 
don't know any creature but a female friend that can put 
one in mind of anything so smooth and gentle; for if I am 
inclined to any country squire, presently I think of a 
horse-pond and a kennell of hounds ; if a spruce beau 
intrudes upon my thoughts, I can think of no water but 
honey water, and no place but an opera ; and an alderman, 
as you say, is fitter for a nine-pin alley, or the Mulberry 
Garden, than anything else. But when I rove to shady 
grove, 'tis you employ my care ; in moonshine bright, or 
dark or lights I wish for you, my dear: no swain so 
gay tho' brisk as May, can ever please so well ; ye muses 
7iine, with me combine, to say I love how well ? I was 
going on rhyming but am interrupted, and can only 
say that I am, 

Yours for ever and aye, 
M. Pendarves. 

Wliat do you mean by a packet ? I have received none 
yet. We go to London on Tuesday to stay. My humble 
duty to my dear mama, compliments from rest of the 
house, mine to Mrs. Viney, &c. Since my writing this 
letter, I am informed my sister Levington ^ is a widow, 
Mrs. Woodfield is now making her weeds. I shall 
make it as slight as I can without offence. 

1 Sister of Mr. Pendarves. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs, Anne Oranville. 

Somerset House, 11th May, 1728. ' 

I am glad you have had an agreeable jaunt. I shall 
be glad to partake of any of your amusements. London 
is so full of entertainment, that if I lived a polite life I 
should not have a moment my own ; as it is, with only 
visiting intimates, I am so hurried I can hardly comb 
my hair as I ought to do. Poor Lady Sunderland has 
been very ill indeed, and the surprise and vexation for 
Mr. Gibbs has been the occasion of it. She has done 
everything that was possible to save him, and spared no 
pains nor cost ; but it is all in vain, she begged of me to 
present her humble service to you, and to return a thou- 
sand thanks for all the trouble you have had about this 
unhappy affair : she has been extremely ill these three 
weeks, or she would herself have acknowledged all your 
favours ; she is now better, but looks miserably, and is so 
low-spirited she can hardly speak without crying — it 
grieves me to see her. 

I spoke to Mrs. Badge about the tea for Mrs. Viney. 
The man at the Poultry has tea of all prices, — Bohea 
from thirteen to twenty shillings, and green from twelve 
to thirty. At last after rummaging the whole town over, 
I have met with cassia,^ — it is six shilling an ounce. 

Mr. Dubourg "^ is just come from Dublin ; our friends 
there propose being in England some time this month ; 

1 Cassia — a pod with a ptilpy fruit, much used for medicine in Italy. 

* Matthew Dubourg, a celebrated player on the violin, who commenced his 
pubhc performances in early childhood, and was long a member of Handel's 
band. In 1753, Handel writing from Dublin, said : — " For the instruments they 
are really excellent, Mr. Dubourg being at the liead of them." See Anccdohs 
of Handel. An account of him may be found in Bumey's History of Music. 


lie left my brother in good health. I had a letter from 
Bevil last post, but have heard nothing of his wife lately ; 
I suppose she is gone back to Weedon. The weather is 
excessively hot ; St. James's Park very pleasant. I walked 
there last night with Piggy, who has had a melancholy 
time of it with Mrs. Drake ^ upon the death of her 
husband. Last Wednesday Miss Anne How^ a sister 
of Lady Pembroke's, was married to Coll. Mordaunt that 
was to have had Lady Mary Capel. It is an extraordinary 
good match for her. She married him without her mo- 
ther's consent, because when he addressed her before my 
Lady How forbid him. She came home to her mother as 
soon as she was married, and told her what business she 
had been about, upon which she turned her out of doors, 
but as she had a very good house to go to, her husband 
consoled her, and carried her to my Lord Peter- 
borough's at Parsons Green, where she has been ever 
since ; — a sweet place for lovers. 

There is to be but four opera nights more, and then 
adieu to harmony of that kind for ever and ever. Sene- 
sino and Faustina have hired themselves to Turin and to 
Venice for the next winter and the carnival following. 
Next Wednesday the Duke of Norfolk gives a masque- 
rade ; everybody is to be extravagantly fine, and to pull off 
their masques before they leave the house. 

1 Robert Dobyns, Esq., of Evesbatch, Herefordshire, assumed the surname 
and arms of Yate of Bromesberrow, in 1759. His eldest daughter, Catherine 
Gorges, married Benjamin Hyett, Esq., of Painswick, Gloucestershire. His 
second daughter, Eleanora, married the Rev. Dr. Drake, Vicar of Rochdale, 

" Anne Howe, daughter of the 1st Viscount Howe by his second wife, 
Juliana, daughter of William Lord Allington of Horseheath, married May 8, 
1728, to the Hon. Lewis Mordaunt. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs, Anne OranviUe. 

Northend, 18th June, 1728. 

I was in town from Tuesday till Saturday, and London 
is not a place of leisure, especially when it is taken flying 
as I have done lately. If anything may be depended 
upon, I may presume to say you may assure yourself of 
my being at Gloucester by the tenth of next month. 

If you have not got Mrs. Capon's letter, nor sent it 
enclosed as I once desired, it will be too late now, for 
Sir Robert Sutton, his bag and baggage, set forward 
of their journey this week. When you and I are rich 
enough, we will take a jaunt too ; at present we must be 
contented to jog on the same dull path of life without 
striking into any new road. But why do I call it dull ? 
when enlivened with the greatest blessing that heaven 
has in store — a strong and faithfull friendship ! that's the 
true zest of pleasure, the refinement of life, which mends 
the heart, and mitigates a thousand sorrows. A fairy spot 
of ground to be enjoyed with a friend is preferable to 
the whole world without that happiness ; at least I that 
know what it is to be so blest, can never love anything 
for my own sake only, and I may venture to say where 
one person has a right notion of friendship, there are 
hundreds that never examined what the word meant. I 
hope Mrs. Viney does not take it ill that I have not 
writ to her, but I protest I have so little time, that I 
wonder how I write so much as I do to you, for if I am 
missing half-an-hour, there is a hue and cry all over this 

I have not had any private conversation with Lady 


Oxford, I was at tlie Conr on Tuesday with Lady 
Carteret, went to town from lience at seven o' the clock 
in the morning, my head ready drest : there was no 
new clothes upon the occasion. I was to see the Pro- 
voked Husband. Mrs. Oldfield' acted to oblige Lady 
Carteret, because she was at Dublin during the time of 
its performance. She topped her part, and notwithstand- 
ing it deserves criticism in reading, nobody (let them be 
ever so wise) can see it without being extremely pleased, 
for it is acted to admiration. 

Your country entertainment delights me more in your 
description, than all that I saw at Court ; and I assure 
you we had no such pretty sport. We had ogling and 
tweezing, and whispering and glancing; no eating or 
drinking, or laughing and dancing : there was standing 
and walking, and fine ladies airs, no smart repartee and 
not one word of prayers. I cannot rime more ; if you 
knew how hard my muse is, you would be thankful for 
this production, which I believe is the effect of a quart 
of whey which I have drank this morning. 

I hope your wax work will not leave Gloster till I 
come, for I have had no opportunity of seeing it in 

1 Anne Oldfield was born in 1683, and became an actress at the King's 
Theatre, under Mr. Rich, the patentee, having been recommended to him by 
Sir John Vanburgh. Her ability in comic parts gained her great celebrity', 
and her fine person and engaging manners made her a general favourite both 
in public and private life. Although she was the avowed mistress of Mr. 
Arthur Mainwaring, and afterwards of General Churchill, the lax morality of 
the day and her many amiable qualities obtained the esteem of several respect- 
able persons. She died in 1730, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. 
Writing of genteel comedy, Horace Waljxde says : — " Why are there so few 
genteel comedies, but because most comedies are written by men not of that 
sphere? Etherege, Congreve, Vanburgh, and Gibber, wrote genteel comedy, 
because they lived in the best company ; and Mrs. Oldfield played it so well, 
because she not only followed, but often set the fashion." 


London. My aunt's and Mrs. Tellier's compliments. 
My aunt I fear grows worse, though I dare not add she 
has drank asses milk these two months. 

A gap here occurs in the correspondence with Ann Granville, 
between 18th June 1728, and 7th of November 1728, in which 
interval Mrs. Pendarves probably visited her mother and sister. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Oranvilk. 

Loudon, 7th November, 1728. 

It was the last command I was so happy to receive of 
my mama to write my first letter to you, therefore I 
make no further apology about it ; I finished my 
journey with good success, and was received very kindly. 
Sir John is cheerful, my aunt endeavours to appear so, 
but wears a melancholy cloud that I fear will not soon 
be dispelled. This morning has been spent with tender- 
ness and concern on both sides, and I have been detained 
so long by her, that it has robbed me of the time I in- 
tended to dedicate to you. 

I believe that you have some curiosity to know how I 
was entertained during my journey. At the end of the 
town some part of the coach broke, and we were obliged 
to get out, and took shelter at an alehouse : in half-an- 
hour we jogged on, and about an hour after that, flop we 
went into a slough, not overturned but stuck. Well, out 
we were hawled again, and the coach with much difficulty 
was heaved out. We then once more set forward, and 
came to our journey's end about five o' the clock without 
any other accident or fright, and met with no waters 


worth getting out of the coach for. I writ to you from 
Oxford, and hope you receiv'd it. 

Mrs Pemlarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

From my apartment Sunshine, 
19 November, 1728. 

Last night I returned from Court, cold and weary, 
with the expectation of finding a letter at home to recom- 
pense me for the toils I had endured ; but, alas ! I 
was sorely deceived, for I only found a room full of 
smoke, the wind and rain beating against my windows, 
my pussey lost (as I tliought), but she was found. Well, 
into bed I tumbled about half an hour after one. I slept 
tolerably well, dreamt of nothing at all, waked at eight, 
roused iSIrs. Bell, huddled on my clothes, bought eighteen 
yards of very pretty white silk for Trott, something in 
the nature of shagreen,^ but a better colour than they 
ever are ; it cost sixpence a yard more ; the piece came 
to three pounds and twelve shilling. Then I called for my 
tea-table, sent John of a Howdee ^ to my Aunt Stanley, 
and at his return he brought me a letter from my dear 

I suppose you wiU write to my aunt as I desired you 
in my last, when you have received the things. You 

* " Tlie term ' shagreen,' when applied to silk and not to the prepared skin of 
fish or beasts, was a kind of taffeta, and is an An5;licised form of the French 
chagrin, which is also used to signify a sort of silk, as well as prepared skin. 
Keferring to silk, shagreen does not api)ear to indicate cdour, or strictly speaking 
qualify, but rather intimates the grained or pimpled fabric of the silk, re- 
sembling the sort of skin or leather which was called shagreen, and formerly 
much more used than at present." — Notes and Qiieries. 

^ Of a Howdee, query How d'ye do ? 

YOL. I. N 


must write to let her know they came safely, and then 
you can't avoid mentioning Mrs. Tillier as one you 
always had an esteem for. 

Yesterday at one o' the clock I went to Lady Carteret, 
to wait on her to Court ; in tip -top humour you may 
be sure I was, and in my best airs, for Puzzle had 
been with me in the morning. On Sunday after church, 
Mrs. Bellenden and I sought a walk in the garden, 
the sun shining : there I met the man of the law -^ 
he said he had designed himself the honour of waiting 
on me ever since he knew of my being in tow^n, but had 
been so confined with business at Westminster, he had 
not been able. Yesterday (as my tail was pinning up) 
he came : he was not very gay, but enquired very much 
after you, and entertained me with his journey to town ; 
he then took courage and asked for a tune upon the harp- 
sichord, pretended to like it prodigiously, and took that 
opportunity to show his art of complimenting, and told 
me that morning he had given up those letters that were 
entrusted with him. Well, to Court I went in the morning, 
with Lady Carteret and the Duchess of Manchester^- — a 
great croud ; fortune almost huddled me into the arms 
of his Grace of Kent. After dinner, I went with Lady 
Carteret to Lady Granville's, and tarried there till Court 
hour, which is half an hour after nine, then the .Duchess 
of Manchester called us, but sure so thin a drawing- 
room was never seen ; I don't believe there were twenty 

1 " Man of the law" probably Mr. E, Stanley, afterwards Sir Edward 
Stanley of Alderley. 

2 Isabella, eldest daughter of John, Duke of Montague, married, April IG, 
1723, to William Duke of Manchester. Becoming a widow in 1739, she after- 
wards married Edward Hussey, Esq., who was subsequently made a Knight of 
the Bath, and assumed the surname of Montagud. a^^i Uvi CukU^ ^SMy, 


people besides their own family. The King asked me 
where I had been, and why I did not go to the Bath, and 
three or four other questions. Guyamore ^ was the only 
bright thing in the circle, he and I had. some conversa- 
tion, but not of consequence enough to insert in this 
paper. I enquired last night if Ha Ha was in town ; I 
long to see the verses, you had best procure them. I 
have not met with any wit since I came to town, it is a 
scarcer commodity here than at Gloucester. 

Who is Lavinia ? I don't remember any verses about 
her. Will. Stanley was at Somerset House last Sunday 
night, and told me that Sir Eobert Bay lis before he 
was chosen Lord Mayor w^as very inquisitive to know 
if I was come to town, and when I was to come, for 
he designed to ask my aunt's leave that I might represent 
the Lady Mayoress I Sir John said he intended dining 
with him in a few days, and desired to know if he 
asked him about it (for there is to be a feast at Xtmas), 
what answer he should give? I told him, / did not under- 
stand being a sham Lady Mayoress I 

Pray tell Dr. Greville that it is not the fashion in 
London to make long courtships, and he will be very 
unpolite if he dangles any longer. 

" Ha Ha " was probably the Honourable Henry Hervey. He 
was the fourth son of John, Earl of Bristol, by his second 
wife, the only daughter of Sir Thomas Felton. Henry Hervey 
was born January 5, 1700; he married Catherine, sister and 
heiress of Sir Thomas Aston, Bart,, took the name of Aston, and 
entered into holy orders. Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, under 
the year 1737, says: 

' Guyamore — Lord Baltimore. 

N 2 


" Amidst this cold obscurity, there was one brilliant circum- 
stance to cheer him ; he was well acquainted with Mr. Henry 
Hervey, one of the branches of the noble family of that name, 
who had been quartered at Lichfield as an officer of the army, 
had at this time a house in London, where Johnson was 
frequently entertained, and had an opportunity of meeting 
genteel company. Not very long before his death, he mentioned 
this among other particulars of his life which he was kindly 
communicating to me ; and he described his early friend, Henry 
Hervey, thus : ' He was a vicious man, but very kind to me. 
If you call a dog, Hekvey, I shall love him.' " 

Mrs. Fendarvesto Mrs. Anne Granville. 

5th December, 1728. 

I was prevented last post by an impertinent Puzzling 
visit : the clock struck two when he left me, and I was 
summoned over the way. I fully resolved writing to my 
mama in the afternoon, but I *was seized upon to deal 
with the DevllVs hooks : cross enough you may be sure 
I was, and made blunder upon blunder, set the table in 
an uproar, and was inhumanly scolded at ; and all was 
your fault, for I could not help thinking of you, and 
overlooked my aces, trumped my partner's king, and a 
thousand such mistakes, and sometimes I did it out of 
spite, because they would make me play against my will. 
Now I proceed to make my acknowledgments for your 
letters. And first for the first dated " Cold " and " raw." 
'Tis impossible for me to answer those nice touches 
of yours, and therefore I will be dumb upon the subject, 
and can only tell you, that nothing can express the 
merits of Seraphina, or the love of Barsina ; but re- 
member your promise of finishing the Conversation Piece. 


If you have not those verses of Ha Has that Mon 
sent me, I will send them to you. I have not heard 
from Sally since I writ last, but I don't care for his 
Asturian Highness. I design to be at Rest,^ and a fig 
for all the young fops. 

Without putting yourself to any manner of expense, 
(you want for neither w^it nor sense) — high day ! I am 
writing in rhime, and never thought less of it than at this 
time ! Chatter-chops (Mrs. Laroche)/ is just come in, 
and desires me to present her tres humble service. The 
Universal Spectator^ was very indifferent last week; 
they will prove but dull ; that was a pretty one by 
chance, which I sent you, but I own I think the ladies' 
rules about matrimony not easily to be maintained, unless 
the man proves a Phoenix for goodness, and then there 
would be no difficulty : what she says of love and 
coui'tship I think exceeding good and right. I don't 
believe you have studied Coke upon Littleton enough to 
make verses with law terms, or I should suspect you 
had a hand in " the Clients ,*" pray tell me who has been 
so witty ? I have not time now to answer them ; I will 
peruse them again, and if I think it worth my while, 
perhaps may do them the favour. Ay (says my sister), 
" Madame Pen's style is exalted, she tosses up her nose at 
everything." " A saucy flirt, may be humbled, and 
brought down in her wedding-shoes soon." Yesterday I 

1 " Rest." A pun upon Wrest, the Duke of Kent's, in Bedfordshire. 

2 John Laroche, Esq., born in 1700, was for many years M.P. for Bodmin. 
He married Elizabeth, daughter of Isaac Gamier of Westminster, a celebrated 
apothecary. Their third son, James Laroche, Esq., of Over, in Gloucestershire, 
was created a Baronet in 1776. 

3 The Spectator ceased in December, 1714. ITie Universal Spectator of 
1720 was a flimsy publication, and failed. 


dined at the Percivals, and tweedled away upon a lovely 
harpsichord, and I was not bid to " mind my tim£." I 
played an hour and half without ceasing. 

Most affectionately thine, my Seraphina, 

And your faithful, Barsina. 

I will write to the two Unitys very soon ; at present 
I am in haste. I made Piggy a visit one day last week ; 
she has been extremely ill, but is pretty well again. She 
enquired very much after her friends at Glocester, and 
desired me to present her humble service when I writ. 

/ Yesterday was married my Lord Carnarvon and a daughter 
of my Lord Bruce's,^ the ugliest couple this day in 
England ; but then there's riches and great alliance, and 
that is firstto be considered. Beauty, sense, and honour 
are things not required ; if thrown into the bargain, why 
well and good ; but the want of them will not spoil a match 
now-a-days, but if the fortune prove short of what was 
reported, and the lady has aU other accomplishments that 
can be desired, it is said by her, as once of virtue " being 
its own reward," the lady is a very pretty lady^ hut no 
match for me ; this is the way of the world, and a sad 

[jvorld it is. 

I desire you will burn this letter, for hereafter if 
it should come into a stranger's hand, they will say, 
Surely the person that writ it must have received great 
injuries from all mankind, that she writes so invet- 
erately against them. But indeed they will lie under a 

* Henry, Marquis of Carnarvon, only surviving son of James, 1st Duke of 
Chandos, married on December 21, 1728, Mary, eldest daughter of Charles, 
Lord Bruce, only son and heir apparent to Thomas, Earl of Aylesbury. 


mistake, for my reflections proceed from my observations 
on the world in general, which I will endeavour to profit 
by, and act as cautiously as possible, though that may not 
secure me from the common calamity ; but when I have 
done my part to the utmost of my power, I will trust 
Providence with the rest, and be contented. Will. Stanley 
is gone to Glocester, that is to Mr. Window's. Puzzle 
goes to Glocester next week. Pray remember me to Mrs. 
AVilkinson. My compliments in particular to Mrs. S., 
and tell her I often think of those few hours that I 
spent in her company. I hope all the family is well at 
Pains wick. I have not been able to make one visit to 
my cousin Izaacson's since they came to town, which I 
doubt they take iU, but I have not had one afternoon to 
spare since their arrival, and they live at the farther end 
of Westminster, which is a mile and a half from any 
other place I go to. 

I think now I have writ you a long letter of nothing 
at all ; I wish I could make it more entertaining. Sir 
John is gone to Northend. I have not seen Bevil 
tliis fortnight, but hear he is well and very busy about 
his play, which I fear he will manage simpl}^, and he does 
not care to be advised : he has long promis'd me a copy 
of it for you, but I cannot yet get it. Mrs. Dash wood 
and the Peytons will be in town soon after Xtmas : I 
shall not have much of their company, I doubt, for I 
confine myself very much to my aunt, though sometimes 
she sends me abroad whether I will or no. I am in 
great concern at your being without a servant.^ There 
are none without multitudes of faults, and they will be 

1 Servant." One of the many changes in tlie last 100 years is the sense in 
which the word " Servant " is used. No gentlewoman would now sjieak of her 
*' Sen-ant " — meaning her maid, but it was constantly used for a personal 
female attendant in the last century. 


plagues if we expect perfection from them. Adieu, my 

dearest sister. 

M. Pendarves. 

Poor Badge has been very ill with a cold, and over- 
whelmed with the vapours : she has not been able to 
write, and is afraid my mama will think her very un- 
grateful for not having herself thanked her for the favour 
of the chine, which was the best that ever was eat. 

Bernachi ^ has a vast compass, his voice mellow and 
clear, but not so sweet as Senesino, his manner better ; 
his person not so good, for he is as big as a Spanish 
friar. Fabri has a tenor voice, sweet, clear, and firm, 
but not strong enough, I doubt, for the stage : he 
sings like a gentleman, without making faces, and his 
manner is particularly agreeable ; he is the greatest 
master of musick that ever sung upon the stage. 
The third is the bass, a very good distinct voice, with- 
out any harshness. La Strada is the first woman ; 
her voice is without exception fine, her manner perfec- 
tion, but her person very had, and she makes frightful 
mouths. La Merighi is the next to her ; her voice is not 
extraordinarily good or bad, she is tall and has a very 
graceful person, with a tolerable face ; she seems to be 

* The Daily Courant, of July 2, 1729, says : — " Mr. Handel, who is just 
returned from Italy, has contracted with the following persons to perform in 
the Italian oj^ra : Sig. Bernacchi, who is esteemed the best singer in Italy ; 
Signora Merighi, a woman of a very fine presence, an excellent actress, and a 
very good singer, with a counter-tenor voice ; Signora Strada, who hath a very 
fine treble voice, a person of singular merit ; Sig. Annibale Pio Fabri, a most 
excellent tenor and a fine voice ; his wife, performs a man's part exceedingly 
well ; Signora Bertoldi, who is a very fine treble voice, &c." Schcrlcher says 
Signora Bertoldi was a contralto, and that her right name was BertoUi. 


a woman about forty, she sings easily and agreeably. 
The last is Bertoli, she has neither voice, ear, nor 
manner to recommend her ; but she is a perfect beauty, 
quite a Cleopatra, that sort of complexion with regular 
features, fine teeth, and when she sings has a smile about 
her mouth which is extreme pretty, and I believe has 
practised to sing before a glass, for she has never any 
distortion in her face. 

The first opera is Tuesday next, I have pronused 
Mrs. Clayton to go with her. Lady Delawar has been 
very ill of a sore throat, but is better. I went with Lady 
Sunderland to see her, and passed an hour or two very 
merrily ; she has wit and humour when she pleases. I 
dined yesterday at Lady Sunderland's, and in the after- 
noon came Miss Legh. She was in her good-humoured 
flights, and made us all laugh : she is very fond of me 
since I sent her word that I would never set my foot 
within her doors when I knew her father was at home, 
but would avoid him as I would a toad. She says I am 
" dear creature," and she loves me dearly. 

Your's eternally, 

M. P. 
My humble duty to my dear mama. I had a letter 
last night from Bunny. Let me know if Erminia has 
made any new conquest. I know Mat. is satisfied she has 
a slave she likes, and looks no further. 

Mrs. Pendarvesto Mrs. Anne Granville. 

10th February, 1728-9. 

As for the rotten-apple water, I sent Mrs. Badge to 
Mrs. Clark about it, and she says it is wonderful the 


quick effect of it, and very safe ; and that if you use it 
at all, you should do it night and morning. It must be 
the rottenest apples that can be had,. put into a cold still, 
and so distilled, without anything besides. But I am 
under no apprehensions of your being marked, and I 
dare say your complexion will be better than ever it was.^ 
I hope the play will entertain you ; pray let me know 
your opinion. I am very much offended at Dr. Greville's 
neglect, but this love, that shoots at the peasant as 
well as the beau, spoils those that have anything to 
do with his darts. 1 should have thought his heart so 
much at rest by being in possession of his goddess, 
that he might have had leisure to have attended his 
patients with diligence. 

If ever I see Ha Ha I have a great mind to tell tales, 
but he has not yet come in my way. His Grace of Kent 
is speedily to be made happy : the nymph is wafting o'er 
the seas, and he as impatient as any lover in romance. She 
will hardly mend the De Greys, for she is homely enough ; 
I am glad Mrs. Woodward is in your neighbourhood, be- 
cause I have often heard you commend her. Since my eyes 
have been cloudy, I have kept house — and open house, too, 
I assure you. I have had my circle of beaux and belles, 
and now and then a tete-a-tete friend and backgammon ; 
and have been as careful of myself as you could wish me 
to be. Mrs. Bellenden is a very agreeable neighbour, 
and very good in coming often to me : she has met 
Puzzle once or twice, and is so taken with him and he 
with her, that I shall soon lose the reputation of his 
being my humble servant. She has sung ballads to 

^ The apple-water was probably after measles or cliicken ix)x, to restore the 


him, and ravished his senses. You must be so good 
to make my excuse to Miss Unetts for not writing to 
them ; but all the time I can allow myself for writing 
I must dedicate to you. My Aunt Stanley is never 
well ; I ^hope better weather will be of use to her. 
Sir John is at Northend. I hear of no news. The 
Duchess of Queensbury gave the Prince a ball and 
supper last Tuesday — everything was elegant : my Lord 
Burlinofton^ intends the same for next week. What can 
be happier in appearance than that young man * is at 
present r but he will pay dear enough for it when the 
weight of the nation lies on his shoulders. I don't 
hear of his marriage yet, nor have I taken any steps 
towards what I once mentioned ; for till I am satisfied 
that the salary is the same as the Queen's, I will not 
make any interest about it : if it is, it will be very well, 
as three hundred pounds a-year, with the dividend of the 
clothes (if the same as the Queen's), will be a pretty 
addition to my fortune. 

The Duke of Kent mentioned in this letter was Henry Grey, 
12th Earl of Kent, and 1st Duke of that family. He was twice 
married; first in 1713, to Jemima, eldest daughter of Thomas 
Lord Crewe of Stene, by whom he had four sons and seven 
dauofhters. The sons all died before their father, the eldest of 
them being the Lord Harold, the first husband of Lady Mary 
Tufton. The duke's second wife was the Lady Sophia Bentinck, 
a daughter of William, 1st Earl of Portland, by his second mar- 
riacfe. The Duke of Kent and Lady Sophia were married in 1728. 

The Bentinck family at this period were still essentially Dutch, 
and both the brothers of the bride were nobles of Holland. 
She was probably brought up there, and might justly be described 

' Eichard Boyle, Srd Earl of Burlington. 
* Frederic, Prince of Wales. 


as a " nymph coming over the sea." The duke and his second 
wife had one daughter named Anna Sophia, who married John 
Egerton, Bishop of Durham, great nephew of the 1st Duke of 
Bridgewater, and the son of that bishop became 7th Earl of 

Mrs, Pendarves to 3Irs. Anne Granville. 

Somerset House, 16tli February, 1728-9. 

I have not been abroad lately, and therefore cannot 
entertain you with foreign affairs. I am now at my Lady 
Stanley's elbow. I wish I could give as good an account 
of her health as of my own ; but she is never free from 
violent colds. 

There is a tragedy now acting in Lincolns-Inn-Fields 
that bears a tolerable character : as soon as I have read it 
I will dispatch it to wait on you ; and the Village Opera 
likewise, though that is but a so-so affair. There was a 
masquerade last Thursday at the Opera House, but I have 
not heard any report about it. People seem to be tired 
of that sort of diversion ; I have not been at one this 
winter, and don't find any inclination in myself to make 
one of the rabble-rout. The subscription for the Opera 
next winter goes on very well, to the great satisfaction of 
all musical folks.. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Oranville. 

From our fireside, 28 February, 1728-9. 

First receive my thanks for your dear letters, ** more 
welcome far, than gold to misers or to soldiers war.'* 
That puts me in mind of Mars's pockett pistol, alias 
Apollo's Imp, alias Ha Ila. He likes me for somebody's 
sake that shall be nameless ; he was at my door last 


Sunday morning, but I was doing what he ought to have 
been employed in. The little man of mettle {not Corin- 
thian) was not discouraged, but came again on Tuesday. 
Molly Bramston was with me ; he staid two hours and 
chattered away very agreeably. I think he is like you. 
Gloster was the chief of our discourse, it being the chief 
in our affection ; and there is a young lady xiwells there 
that has more perfections than any mortal has a right to ; 
her " wit so poignant, her judgment so wonderfull, her 
good-nature so excessive, that she always delights but 
never offends." I guessed who he meant, but was not 
obliged to take it ; I think it was very rude to say so 
many fine things of an absent lady, it made those that 
were present look very silly, but the fops of this age 
know no manners. He saw my clothes ; I said you would 
I suppose want the description of them, but I should not 
give myself that trouble ; quoth he, " perhaps she may 
receive it from a third hand." 

On Wednesday I dined at Lady Carteret's, and went 
in the afternoon to a consort of musick for the benefit of 
Mr. Holcomb ; the Duchess of Manchester and the two 
eldest IVIiss Carterets were of the party. Holcomb sung 
six songs ; we had two overtures of ^Ir. Handel's and two 
concertos of Corella by the best hands. I was very well 
pleased ; the house was exceeding full and some verj good 
company. Ha Ha was to be distinguished, though in 
the midst of a great crowd, and so w^as the peer among 
ten thousand, &c. Tiny did not see me, but Guyamore 
made me a respectful bow. I am already, or shall be 
very soon married to the Black Don ^ upon his ha\dng 

1 This passage alludes to a joke with her cousin, Sir Anthony "Westconih. 
1'he " Gumlej'^ " alluded to was Deputy-Commissary-General. Sir Anthony 
Westcomb succeeded him in that post. 


the prospect of succeeding Gumley, so I sent to him and 
desired his acceptance of myself and fortune ! You 
country ladies that love to be in the fashion, I must give 
you notice that nothing is so unpolite as telUng the 
truth, and if you are ambitious of being thought exces- 
sive genteel, let two or three rousing 1 — s escape you, 
and you will -gain immortal reputation. I was just come 
to this place, when who should enter my chamber but 
the American Prince,^ gay and fine — the second visit he 
has made me : his manner is the same it used to be. 

To-morrow is the Birth-day. I shall be fine, but like 
the jay in borrowed feathers.^ I have not heard anything 
about the comet you mention, I believe it has been dis- 
covered by some Gloster conjurer. My head is drest, 
and Mr. Wise who is at my toilette says, " prodigious 

Upon receiving a lock of hair from Anna which she unjustly 

call'd a trifle. 

'ITie gift which jon a trifle call, 

To me is far beyond 
That celebrated lock^ of which 

The poets were so fond. 
Nor gold nor titles can impart 

Such pleasure as your love, 
Possest of such a faithful heart 

With happiness I move. 
All things hut /rie7idshi2) such as yours 

Inconstant pass away, 
This lock the emblem of your love 

Like that will ne'er decay. 
Then what have I to do with care, 

With joy my days I'll spend, 
Since I'm secure of heaven's best gift, 

A faithful, tender friend. 

1 American Prince. Lord Baltimore. 

2 " Borrowed feathers.'^ The practice of friends lending each other jewels for 
Court, appears to have been much more common in the last century than at 

' Berenice's hair. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Airs. Anne Oranville. 

Somerset House, 4th March, 1728-29. 

On Saturday the first day of March, it being Queen 
Caroline's birth-day, I dressed myself in all my best 
array, borrowed my Lady Sunderland's jewels, and made 
a tearing show. I went with my Lady Carteret and her 
two daughters. There was a vast Court, and my Ladv 
Carteret got with some difficulty to the circle, and after 
she had made her curtsey made me stand before her. Tlie 
Queen came up to her, and thanked her for bringing me 
forward, and she told me she was obliged to me for my 
pretty clothes, and admired my Lady Carteret's extremely ; 
she told the Queen that they were my fancy, and that I 
drew the pattern. Her ^Majesty said she had heard that 
I could draw very well (I can't think who could tell her 
such a story) ; she took notice of my jewels ; I told her 
they were my Lady Sunderland's ; " Oh," says she, 
'' 7/ou zvere afraid I should think my Lord Selkirk ' gave 
them to you, but I believe he only admires, for he will 
not be so free of his presents.^' (I think it is a great 
condescention, after all this, to correspond with a country 
girl !) Who should I spy in the crowd but Ha Ha, 
bedecked with azure — a proper colour for a poet and a 
lover : en passant, he made me a compliment, said " he 
could write more than he dared to speak." Miss Carteret 
heard him, and lays him to my charge, when Cupid 
knows he only is civil to me for sakes sake, however, I 
had the reputation of him for that day. 

At night sure nothing but the Coronation could exceed 

^ Charles Douglas, 2nd Earl of Selkirk, died unmarried in 1739. 


the squeezing and crowding that was there, the ball-room 
was so excessive full that I could not see one dance, 
but was thrust quite from mj company. However, a little 
to recompense that loss and the fatigue I had undergone, 
it was my fortune to be thrown in the way of Guyamore, 
who very gallantly got me a seat and sate down by me ; 
his aunt, Lady Betty Lee, was oposite to us. I asked 
him why he would not go and pay his dut}'^ to her ? He 
" hated to look at her," he said, " she was so confounded 
ugly ;" and " that he should be a happy man were I as 
ugly." Miss Tolmash came to the place where I sat, and I 
resigned my place and made an attempt to find my com- 
pany, but all in vain, I might as well have attempted to 
swim cross the sea in a storm ; and after having been 
buffeted about and crushed to a mummy, my Lord Sun- 
derland espied me out, and made me take his place. 

The clock struck twelve, the French dances were 
just over, and every man took the woman he liked best 
to dance country-dances, the Prince set the example by 
choosing the Duchess of Bedford,^ who is the queen of 
his fancy at present. Ha Ha found me out and en- 
treated me to dance one dance, but the crowd was so 
monstrous I had not courage ; he looked disappointed. 
/ was sorry to refuse him ; but though I would not 
make use of him in his own way, I did make a conveniency 
of him, for by his means I found my Lady Carteret. We 
went away at half an hour after one ; and I was so tired 
all Sunday, I could hardly hold up my head ; but yester- 
day I was very well, and dined with my Lady Carteret ; 
and went in the afternoon to my Lady Sunderland. 

1 The Lady Anne Egerton, only daughter of Scroop, Duke of Bridgewater, 
and of his wife the Lady Elizabeth Churchill, married Wriotbesly, 3rd Duke 
of Bedford, in 1725. 


The King was in blue velvet, with diamond buttons ; 
the hat was buttoned up with prodigious fine diamonds. 
The Queen was in black velvet, the Court being out 
of mourning only for that day. Princess Royal had 
white poudesoy, embroidered with gold, and a few colours 
intermixed; the petticoat was very handsome, but the 
gown looked poor, it being only faced and robed with 
embroidery. Princess Amely had a yellow and silver 
stuff, the pattern marked out with a thread of purple, and 
purple ribbons with pearl in her head, which became her. 
Princess Caroline had pink colour damask, trimmed with 
silver. The Prince of Wales was in mouse-colour velvet, 
turned up with scai'let, and very richly embroidered with 
silver ; he dances very well, especially country -dances, 
for he has a great deal of spirit. Lady Carteret's clothes 
were the finest there — green and gold, embroidered and 
trimmed ; Miss Carteret yellow and silver. Lady Hart- 
ford had a blue manteau, embroidered with gold, and a 
white satin petticoat ; it looked very whimsical, and not 
pretty. Ha Ha told me, (for his mortification), he had 
seen the cause of all his woe ; she was very fine, but, says 
he, 'tis all outside, oh that she were as bright within ! 

I suppose you will have some odd account of me, pray 
let me know what they say of me behind my back ? The 
Duchess of Queensbury, to the great amazement of the 
admiring world, is forbid the Court, only for being solici- 
tous in getting a subscription for Mr. Gay's sequel of 
the Beggars' Opera, which the Court forbid being acted, 
on account that it reflected on the Government. The 
Duchess is a great friend of Gay's, and has thought him 
much injured ; upon which, to make him some amends, 
for he is poor, she promised to get a subscription for his 

VOL. I. o 


play if he would print it. She indiscreetly has urged 
the King and Queen in his behalf, and asked subscrip- 
tions in the drawing-room, upon which she is forbid 
the Court — a thing never heard of before to one of her 
rank : one might have imagined her heaviy would have 
secured her from such treatment ! The Vice Chamber- 
lain went with the message, and she returned the 
answer which I have enclosed.^ 

Last week I had Mr. Haws with me, Mrs. Basset's 
steward and her lawyer, to ask me to accept a sum of 
money for my jointure. I told them it would not be 
reasonable in them to suppose I would lessen my in- 
come, and they best knew if they could afford to give me 
what would bring me in an equivalent. I have not had 
their answer ; they want me to name a sum, but that 
is not my business. I know what I will accept, but 
if they don't offer me that, I am pleased to keep my 
jointure as it is. I spoke of it to Sir John ; he says 
money is troublesome, arid difficult to get good security 
for it ; but if they offer very largely I shall be tempted. 

Your shoemaker is dead ; but I believe Mulinix will 
make them as well. 

Feb. 27, 1728-9. 
1 " The Duchess of Queensbury is surprised and well pleased that tlie King 
hath given her so agreeable a command as to stay from Court, where she 
never came for diversion, but to bestow a civility on the King and Queen; she 
hopes by such an unprecedented order as this is that the King will see as few 
as he wishes at his Court, particularly such as dare to think or speak truth. 
1 dare not do otherwise, and ought not nor could have imagined that it would 
not have been the very highest compliment that I could possibly pay the King 
to endeavour to support truth and innocence in his house, particularly when 
the King and Queen both told me that they had not read Mr. Gay's play. 
I have certainly done right, then, to stand by my own words, rather than his 
Grace of Grafton's, who hath neither made use of truth, judgment, nor 
honour, through this whole affair, either for himself or his friends." 



Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne OranviUe. 

8 March, 1728-9. 

Yesterday I went to Cour with my Lady Carteret : it 
was excessively full, but I have some reward for my trou- 
ble, for the King asked me many aquestion. Mrs. Clayton, 
who was the person employed by my Lady Granville in 
the affair I told you of, has refused. I am mighty easy 
in the matter ; but my cousins, who are very fond of me, 
insist upon my going another way to work ; they say they 
are sure if it was only named to the King and Queen 
I should be accepted. My brother Bevil has met with 
great disappointments in his play, which is not to be 
acted, but he is going to print it, and wants to dedicate it 
to the Princess Eoyal. I am going this morning to Lady 
Fitzwilliara's to see if T can get the Princess's leave. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne OranviUe. 

Somerset House, 6 !March, 1728-9. 

Last nigrht when I returned from the Duchess of 
Norfolk's Assembly, (muzzy enough, not having met 
with agreeable conversation), I had the delight of read- 
ing your letter. 

So you cannot guess who the absent lady was, that 
Ha Ha sung the praises of; dont he so affected, the 
picture was too well drawn not to know who it belonged 
to ; there was no occasion to write " AnnabeUa " under it ; 
the limner is too good an artist to be so treated, and I 
won't allow you to give yourself such airs. The Pocket 
Pistol says he has writ to the Doctor, he talks of recruit- 
ing, and that he shall visit Gloster, not only to recruit 
men, but spirits ; he proposes great happiness to himself, 



but, poor tiling ! if he should be disappointed and the bird 
flown, it will be pity. He told me of some verses (golden 
ones says he) that he had the happiness of seeing upon 
Mrs. Grrevill's marriage, quite poetic. I will be cautious 
of what I say to Ha Ha, for I believe he sends everything 
to his correspondent ; Puzzle saw him here one morn- 
ing, and it would have diverted you to have seen how 
queer he looked. Ha Ha's gaiety makes one fall into 
the same sort of humour; Puzzle outstaid the other, 
and when he was gone, begged for God sake I would let 
him sit still to recover himself, for if he went home in 
the humour he was in, he should hang himself. 1 have 
seen him once since, he seems to be very well recovered ; 
and I must giv-^e him his due, he behaves himself with 
good manners and respect, and I believe is convinced he 
had best hold hold his tongue. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Granville. 

From my fireside, 14th March, 1728-9. 

Sally's letters are what I prize next to yours, but 
her last was too crabbed to please me. She confounds me 
with her ideas. I had much rather she would descend 
to the style that I am acquainted with, for I cannot deny 
my ignorance, which is so great that I do not compre- 
hend her logic, and 1 really think she has cramped her 
way of writing extremely. The beauty of writing (in my 
opinion) consists in telling our sentiments in an easy 
natural way ; whatever expressions seem laboured must 
disgust, unless they discourse on an abstruse subject, 
and then it must be treated accordingly. Without 
partiality to you, you have attained that art in writing 


which alone makes it delightful ; your sense is so in- 
telligible that it is known at first sight, whereas Sally's 
is in masquerade, and I must examine the sentence more 
than once to find her out ; but she has fallen into this 
way since her being the half of a parson, for her letters 
used to please as well as instruct. I think my uncle's 
play has more things in it to be condemned than ap- 
plauded, but yet I am so much inclined to any production 
of his, that I cannot entirely give it up ; the characters I 
allow are unnatural, but there is wit in it, and that is 
more than can be said of any other modern comedy. 

I have begun to answer your letters, as the witches 
do their prayers — backwards. I am afraid the Dr. will 
think I set up for a poet, and that is a character I 
detest, unless I was able to maintain it as well as my 
Lady Winchelsea. Nothing is so impertinent as dabblers, 
despised by men of sense ; I wonder the doctor has not 
yet received Ha Ha's letter — he told me he sent it a 
week ago. He made me a visit last Tuesday morning, 
enquired after all friends at Gloucester, and desired me 
to make his compliments. I gave you a hasty sketch 
last post of the Imp and Guyamore ; I don't know whe- 
ther I can mend it. The American Prince has what is 
generally thought an advantageous person, he is tall, 
genteel, a handsome face, no feature in his face but 
what you may allow to be good ; but the sparkling fire is 
more conspicuous in Ha Ha and his vivacity, which is 
really attended with wit, wiU at any time make those 
that converse with him, give him the preference. But I 
think he has a fault though a good-natured one (if that 
is an expression may be allowed), which is a turn of 
compliment to a degree of flattery, and he must think a 
woman mightily possessed with herself to believe all those 


flourislies her due, but it is more excusable where they 
are spoken with ease, which indeed I must say he does, — 
for that gives them an air of sincerity. Puzzle is of a 
very different composition, and has his merit in his way. 
When he talks it is sensibly, but he never makes a com- 
pliment but in a way that without a great deal of vanity 
one may be allowed to take it, and to believe he speaks 
what he thinks. He discovers in his manner a great deal 
of honesty, and though plain-dealing seems to be what 
he prides himself in, it is accompanied with so mvjch 
manner as not to offend ; for though he will not praise 
where he thinks it not due, he is not a satirist nor 
apt to spy little faults. In short my three visitors are 
as different in their manners as their persons ; they give 
me a great deal of entertainment, and if by their means 
I have given you any, I shall be better pleased with 
them than ever I was. 

I and my clothes were too slight to be taken notice 
of by Apollo's favourite, though he intimated he had 
given an account of both; as for myself your own 
imagination always draws me to so much advantage 
that I will let you think as favourably as you please. 
My clothes were grave, the ground dark grass green, 
brocaded with a running pattern like lace of white inter- 
mixed with festoons of flowers in faint colours. My 
ribbons were pink and silver, my head well drest, French 
and a cockard that looked smart, my clothes were a 
French silk, I happened to meet with a great penny- 
worth — they cost me seventeen pounds. 

The Duchess of Quensbury' is still the talk of the town. 

1 The celebrated Catherine, Duchess of Queensbury, having in old age at- 
tended the funeral of the Princess Dowager of Wales, as one of the attendants 
to the chief mourner, Horace Walpole wrote the following stanza on the 
occasion : — 


She is going to Scotland : she has great reason to resent 
her usage, but she was provoking first, and her answer 
though it shows spirit was not worded as her friends 
could have wished ; good manners ought to be observed 
to our equals, and our supenours certainly have a right 
to it. My Lady Hervey told her the other day, that 
'* now she was banished^^ the Court had lost its chief 
ornament" the Duchess replyed, " / am entirely of your 
mind.'* It is thought my Lady Hervey spoke to her 
with a sneer, if so her Grace's answer was a very good 
one. I am amazed at the odd proceeding of Thresher : 
he acts like a madman or a rogue — 'tis charitable to sup- 
pose it the first. I am heartily concerned at poor Bessy's' 
indisposition. I don't at all wonder at her being affected 
by this man's odd behaviour ; I dare say Providence has a 
better lot in store for her, and more suitable to her merit. 
You say you are the dullest thing alive : I cannot 
be of your mind at all, but I am still angry that you 
have not sent me those verses Mrs. Greville had on her 
marriage : I shall be more cautious for the future how I 
send the inventions of my noddle ^ since you don't use 
me in the same way. Last night I was at a concert of 

" To many a Kitty, Love his car 
Would for a day engage ; 
But Prior's Kitty, ever fair, 
Obtained it for an age." 

1 On two occasions the Duchess of Queensbury got into disgrace at Court. 
She usually wore an apron, and when this article of attire was forbidden to be 
worn at the royal drawing-rooms, the Duchess appeared in it one day: her 
entrance was consequently opposed by the Lord in waiting, when she tore it off, 
threw it in his face, and walked on. Her second offence was that of soliciting 
subscriptions for the poet Gay in the royal presence. — See Horace Walpde, &c. 

2 Bessy Tichboume, sister of the Countess of Sunderland. 

' Here is an allusion to other verses written by Mrs. Pendarves, who was 
as well as Ann Granville evidently in the habit of sending each other little 
"ytu d'espriis " both in prose and verse. 


music with Mrs. Clayton, Mrs. Percival's daughter : 
it was a charity business for the benefit of Mr. Grant, 
my mercer's partner, who has had losses lately ; I was 
glad the poor man had a full house. The music was not 
extremely well performed, Mrs. Barbier, Mrs. Wright, 
and Mrs. Chambers sung. Puzzle was there, I was in 
the stage-box. Captain Hyde sat behind me, and con- 
veyed me to the coach when the concert was done. I 
have no news to send you, only the enclosed verses. I 
don't know the authors of any of them, you may know 
of whom I had the manuscript by the hand. 

Interest is making to get Mr. Horatio Walpole ^ to 
let my brother Bevil go over with him to Soissons 
where he is going Plenipo, and I fancy it will be obtained ; 
it must be a secret. 

Lord Lansdown's play alluded to in this letter, may have been 
** Once a Lover and always a Lover," which came out in its im- 
proved form in 1728. Dr. Johnson, in his Life of Lord Lans- 
down, says : " In the time of his retirement, it is probable that he 
composed his dramatic pieces, "The She Gallants" (acted 1696), 
which he revised and called " Once a Lover and always a 
Lover ;" " The Jew of Venice," altered from Shakspeare's " 
Merchant of Venice " (1698) ; " Heroic Love," a tragedy (1701) ; 
"The British Enchanters" (1706), a dramatic poem; and 
" Peleus and Thetis," a masque, written to accompany " the 
Jew of Venice." The comedies, which he has not printed in 
his own edition of his works, I never saw." 

Warton remarks, " Pope in ' Windsor Forest ' having com- 
pared his patron, Lord Lansdown, with Surrey, he was im- 

1 The Horatio Walpole, who went to Soissons as Minister Plenipotentary, 
was brother to the Prime Minister, and uncle to the Horace Walpole of ejjisto- 
lary renown : a coarse shrewd man, who owed his elevation to his brother. 
He was created Lord Walpole of Wolterton, and his descendants inherited the 
Earldom of Urlbrd on failure of the elder branch of tlie family. 


inediatelyreprinted, but without attracting many readers, altliough 
it was vainly imagined that all the world would eagerly purchase 
the works of a neglected English poet, whom Pope had called 
** the Granville of a former age" 

Mrs. Pertdarves to Mrs. Anne QranviUe. 

13th March, 1728-9. 

Never did I want your assistance more than last night 
to compose my spirits, which for these two days past have 
suffered a good deal on my Aunt Stanley's account, for 
she has been very ill, but thank God is now much better. 
All Sunday she complained extremely of her head, and 
was very hot, her spirits very much upon the flutter, and 
for four-and-twenty hours she neither slept nor lay in a 
posture for a minute together, and now and then seemed 
to be light-headed. I was very much fHghtened, and 
begged her to send for a doctor ; but she would not bear 
the thoughts of it till Sir John came. I writ him an 
account how she was, in as moderate terms as I could ; 
but he apprehended I made the best of it, and was so 
much affected by it, that when he came to town I thought 
him almost as ill as my aunt; but she is very much 
mended ; I did not leave her till twelve o' the clock, and 
I have just had an account of her which is a very good 
one, and Sir John is pretty well again. 

I am glad my drawing pleases you. I endeavoured 
to keep up to the originals, but fear I have done them an 
injury, particularly Ha Ha. Regular features may easily 
be expressed, but there is a certain agreeable air that no 
limner can hit off, where there is a great deal of variety 
it will pose the most skillful to describe. Now for 
answering your questions three. I have seen Mr. Hays's 
hand^^work, and think him so great a proficient, that is 


pity he has not an opportunity of being instructed by 
some good master. Mr. Wise's picture, and the copy of 
my aunt's is extremely well done ; as for mine, I cannot 
say so much, for I never saw so crabbed a witch — but 
considering what he copied after, I think it very well ! 
I am much obliged to him for his cantata and minuet, 
and think them very pretty. I desire, when he comes 
to town, that he wiU caU upon me, for I have a mind he 
should copy a picture for me of my Aunt Stanley's. 

Well, I do think I have showed some indifference to 
you; I had my designs, I thought you would have 
dropt the proposal, and that I should not be plagued 
with you. If half a man, half a maid, half a room, lialf 
a bed, and half a French roU for breakfast will satisfy 
you, you shall be as welcome as my whole heai-t can 
make you, and I hope my dear mama will be able to 
spare you ; and I hope I may promise her that I will 
restore you to her safe and sound upon demand. You 
see I am full of Jwpes about it, and hope they will not 
be blasted. " Hope of all ills that men endure,' <^'c. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranviUe. 

Somerset House, 1st April, 1729. 

The first thing that happened to me this morning was 
being made a fool of — a thing easily done, so they ac- 
quired no great honour who set their wits at work ;ibout 
it. You must know, madam, that I am this afternoon 
to have with me Lady Peyton, her fair daughter Mrs. 
Dashwood, and the Tom Tit invited himself, — I could 
not refuse him without being rude. 

^ It appears that about tliis time Mrs. Pendarves had a house or apartments 
in London of her own, though she was continually with Lady Stanley, both at 
Somerset House and North End. 


Last Sunday I went to St. James's Chapel. After 
chapel to the drawing-room with Lady Carteret^ and 
her two daughters. I heard a gentle voice whisper in 
my ear, " How does Mrs. Pendarves do ?" I turned round 
and soon discovered the little Imp : he seemed shy, I 
thought. I asked him when he had heard from his corre- 
spondent at Gloster. "Not a great while," he said; "not 
since he had writ, which was a month ago." I doubt his 
letter miscarried, and truly that is a pity. 

I went home with Lady Carteret from the drawing- 
room, in hopes of seeing the lovers together, but my Lord 
Dysart * went that morning to his estate in the country, 
and does not return till next Sunday. Miss Carteret be- 
haves herself very well in the affair, and looks neither grave 
nor merry, though she has no reason to be displeased, and 
I believe sixteen is more transported with the prospect of 
such an affair, than after they have attained a score of 
years. She has a better chance of being happy, than , 
most young ladies in her station, because her father and 
mother are so indulgent to her humour that (although 
they have as much ambition as most people), yet they 
would not force her inclinations, which was part of 
the answer Miss Carteret made my Lord Dysart, when 
he told her, that " notwithstanding my Lord and Lady 
Carteret's goodness to him, and the encouragement they 
gave him, he should not proceed if she did not approve of 

' Lord Carteret's first wife was Frances, daughter of Sir Robert Worseley. 
She died at Hanover, June 9, 1743. 

2 Lionel, 3rd Earl of Dysart, married July 22, 1729, Grace, eldest daughter 
of John, Lord Carteret, afterwards Earl Granville. She was the mother of the 
4th and 5th Earls of Dysart, and of three other sons, who served their country 
in the royal navy. The eldest of her two daughters, (Louisa,) became Counters 
of Dysart in her own right, March iith, 1821. 


hiin^ Lord Beaumont, the Duke of Eoxborough's only 
son, they say, is to be married to the Duke of Mon- 
tague's daughter, Lady Mary, and is to be very soon ; thus 
matrimony, you see, is in a thriving way, and so let it, 
may all happiness attend those that run the venture ! 

Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam,^ after five-and- twenty 
years of tolerable agreement, are going to be divorced. 
I think if I could live five-and-twenty years with a 
man, T could live five hundred. Nobody knows why 
they part, but that they are peevish with one another ; 
'tis monstrous to think, with so many children all 
grown up to be men and women, they should expose 
themselves and their children to the calumny of the 
world. As for the men, the world is apt to forget 
their ill-conduct, but young ladies, whose fate depends 
a good deal on the conduct of their parents, must 
suffer. It is injustice, but it is the common way of 
speaking ; who will venture on the daughter, when the 
mother has proved such a wife ? Not that I believe my 
Lady Fitzwilliam is wholly to blame : he is a peevish, 
splenetic man, and provoking in his temper. Fine 
encouragement this to wedlock. Shall I devote my life, 
my heart, to a man, that after all my painful services 
will be glad of an opportunity to quarrel with me? 
What security have I, more than my neighbours, to de- 
fend me from this fate ? I am frail, my temper is apt 
to be provoked, and liberty of speech all womankind 
has thought their privilege, and hard it is to be denied 

* John, 2nd Earl Fitzwilliam in the Irish Peerage, married Ann, daughter 
and heiress of John Stringer, Esq , of Sutton-npon-IiOimd, in Nottinghamshire. 
She died in 1726, and lier husband in 1728. William, 3rd Irisli and 1st 
English Earl Fitzwilliam, was their son, and they left also three daughters. 
No mention is made by Sir E. Bridges or by Burke of any divorce. 


what has so long heen allowed our prerogative; the 
greatest chance for avoiding the above-mentioned mis- 
fortune, will be choosing a man of sense and judgment. 
But there's the difficulty ; moneyed men are most of 
them covetous, disagreeable wretches ; fine men with titles 
and estates, are coxcombs : those of real merit are seldom 
to he found ; I believe I shall never finish my Sunday's 

Sunday at that period was considered by the most exemplary 
persons, as THE day for innocent recreation after the performance 
of religious duties. Queen Charlotte always had her draw- 
ing lesson on Sunday, as also the princesses her daughters, 
because it was considered a quiet and innocent recreation. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranviUe. 

As much exalted as yourself. 
8th April, 172^. 

The first step towards declaring a passion for a lady 
is admiring any of her little animals ; it is almost an 
infallible sign of attention to the mistress of the beast ; 
but it is saucy, impertinent, unmannerly, and petty- 
fogger-like, to be making comparisons that are odious, 
and then to give the preference to other folks things is 
monstrous and intolerable. I own I think your pussey 
has charms, but if you believe all the flatterers that buz 
about you, you'll be undone, for believe me there is no 
m/)re comparison between your cat and mine^ than 
between a Spanish and an Irish potatoe, and you may 
come and look if you won't give credit to my words. 

I am determined when you come to London to keep 
you close in a garret, and you shall neither see nor be 


seen by any but such as is fit for you to converse w^itb, 
that the few good morals you have may not be corrupted. 
The young people of this age think when they come to 
town they have nothing to do but to take their pleasure ; 
your business is of a very different kind, it is to give 

I have not said anything yet to my Aunt Stanley of 
your coming to town : when you write to her you will 
mention it I suppose, but I am again alarmed about her. 
On Sunday morning she got up very early to receive the 
sacrament, and found herself so much better, that in the 
afternoon she went to see my Uncle Lansdown, which 
was venturing too much, for she had not been down 
stairs above six weeks or two months ; and yesterday 
she was ill again all day. 

I call'd on the Peyton family ^ Sunday in the after- 
noon, where I met the tribe assembled. I went in the 
morning to Whitehall Chapel to hear Mr. Williams, He 
gave us a fine discourse on the day: he preaches very 
well, his doctrine sound and plain, his words well chosen, 
he expresses a great deal in a little compass, his delivery 
distinct, and his voice clear : he seems to feel what he 
says, for which reason he can't fail of making an impres- 
sion on the minds of his congregation. 

Why will you abuse the poor Tom Tit ?" it is not his 
fault his voice does not equal the nightingale's, or his 
beauty the goldfinch, and though he has but one note, he 
shows his good-will to please by repeating it so often ! 

^ The Peytons •were allied by marriage with the Granvilles. Lady Catherine 
Granville, eldest daughter of John Granville, 1st Earl of Bath, and to whom 
he bequeathed all his Jewels and 10,000/., was married to Craven Peyton, 
Esq., Warden of the Mint. She died without issue. 

2 Sir Thomas Peyton. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Oranvitte. 

Somerset House, 19 April, 1729. 

I yesterday dined at my Lady Carteret *s, went to Court, 
and at night was entertained with the lovers. Here we have 
all complexions, so you can't fail of being pleased with one 
among the number. First there's Jamaica, as black as the 
pepper belonging to the country, and as biting. Then 
there is " sweet master Harry Monk,"' an excellent repre- 
sentative of Master Slender ; he would be well enough if 
it was not for his ugly face and awkward person ; he is 
good-natured and well-meaning, but another sort of ani- 
mal to his cousin who is married. Then there is my 
pert lawyer -^ but he does not deserve to be amongst the 
number of extraordinary' s ; but there is Mr. E. (abas 
Pamper) with his Irish fash as round as a potatoe, and 
with a sufficient stock of Corinthian mettle to denote 
the " nashion " he belongs to ; he will make doux yeux, 
and tell you all the histories of the world; he has 
memory enough for a fool, and sense enough for a wise 
man, but an unfortunate manner of setting forth his 
talents, and is a compound of oddnesses. 

How does Phillis ? 

Pray speech it handsomely for me to Mr. and Mrs. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne OranvUle. 

I have left my bed betimes this morning, on purpose 
to write to my dearest sister. I received your billet 
from Oxford, and give thanks innumerable for it. I hope 

* Henry Stanley Monk. 
2 Mr. E. Stanley. 


you have worn a mask in your journey ; these easterly 
winds are bad for a sound complexion, but exceeding bad 
for one that has been battered as lately as yours :^ but I 
dream of you fair and lovely, so that I cannot form an idea 
of you otherwise when I am awake. I shall be impatient 
to know how you get to Brickhill. I hope you will avoid 
all waters. Well there is a satisfaction in thinking you but 
forty miles from me ; I can know to-morrow what you 
have done to-day, there is a pleasure in that, but when 
the hour comes of my seeing all your motions, what does 
my heart say to that ? why it beats an alarum to my very 
throat, and proclaims its joy aloud. I am heartily glad to 
hear my mama has been so well upon the road, and I hope 
the sweet air of Brickhill will give her health and pleasure. 
My Aunt Stanley continues very weak and low, she 
did not get out of her bed all day yesterday. My 
Uncle Lansdown is still very full of pain, he was 
blistered yesterday, and was something better in the 
evening : he has not slept this week. I went to see 
him Tuesday in the afternoon and found him so full of 
pain that he could hardly speak, but what he said was 
kind and good ; not so my lady, for she has taken it 
in her head to be monstrous rude to me, — I sup- 
pose to drive me from my uncle ; but that it shall not 
do as long as he is pleased with me. Poor Lady Sunder- 
land seems in a very bad way, and I am extremely con- 
cerned for her — she has had an intermitting fever, and 
ever since Saturday. She is seven months gone, confined 
to her bed, and has been let blood. Bess Tich. has been 
very ill of a fever and a violent humour in her face and 

* These remarks probably alluded to Ami Granville's recent recovery from 
measles or chicken pox. 


teeth, and is confined to ber bed. It is doubly unfortunate 
to me now to be hindered from going there when I should 
be of some use and comfort. Mrs. Hyde is not yet brought 
to bed. I went last Sunday again to Wliitehall to hear 
Mr. Williams preach ; he made us a very fine discourse, 
well suited to the times, and did not spare the vices of 
the age, but spoke with that authority and courage 
suitable to his calling. I wished all the rakes in town had 
been of his congregation, for I think none could be so 
hardened as not to profit by his sermon. I have not 
seen any of the Peytons since that day at church, till 
yesterday morning that Mrs. Peyton made me a visit ; all 
the males of that family are gone out of town. Mrs. 
Dashwood junior is as well as can be expected consider- 
ing her condition ; I have got her pincushion to stick 
for her.^ Dr. Colbourne, an old very rich quack, is 
married to my Lady Mary Feilding,' the eldest sister to 
that Lady Fanny so much talked of for Lord Finch. 
She is very ugly ; he went one morning to make a 
visit, and found Lady Mary weeping. He asked her what 
was the matter ; she said " her circumstances were so bad, 
she could no longer live in town but must retire into the 
country ; she was not anxious about leaving London, but 

1 " Her pincushion to stick for her" This alluded to the pincushion 
prepared for the nursing toilette of Mrs. Dashwood. The making and sticking 
a pincushion was an indispensable accomplishment of the last century. 
A very beautiful one is still preserved of Mrs. Delany's making ; and for 
the benefit of those interested in such arts, a description is subjoined. It is 
of white satin, quilted curiously, the iipper and under side being in different 
patterns, independent of which the pins were stuck to represent another 
design, which added to the effect of the quilting ; the whole was stuffed with 
layers of flannel laid on one another, and stitched together to form an exact 

^ The Lady ^lary Fielding, daughter of Basil, 4th Earl of Denbigh, married, 
April 15, 1729, William Cockburn, M.D. She died Oct. 1, 1732. 

VOL. I. P 


regretted some friends she must leave behind." He said, 
" Madam, may I hope I am one of those ?" " Certainly," 
says she, " doctor, for you have always shewed us great 
friendship." *' Then, madam, (says he,) if an old^man and 
fifty thousand pound can be acceptable to you, you may put 
off your journey whenever you please." She did not long 
I demur, and after ten days' courtship they were married. 
Nobody blames the lady : the man is called " an old fool." 

I have not yet seen my Lord Dysart and Miss Carteret ; 
he is very assidious, and every day more enamoured. I 
design, if my Aunt Stanley is pretty well, to dine with 
my Lady Carteret to-morrow. I often make your com- 
pliments to her, for she never fails enquiring after you, 
and is in great care about your complexion, which she 
says with justice was too good to he spoiled. Having 
been so strict a nurse-keeper, I think I have sent you 
a great deal of tittle tattle. 

There is to be a masquerade this day se'night, and the 
"Wednesday following a ball, at the Duchess of Norfolk's. 
I have promised Mrs. Peyton to go with her to the ball, 
and if anybody presents me with a ticket I will go to the 
masquerade — not else. I sent a little box last night to 
the carrier with a set of china as my mama ordered me : 
I hope they will come safely, I gave great charge about 
packing them carefully. China is risen mightily within 
this month. My Aunt Stanley liked them so well for the 
oddness of them, that she bought a set of cups, saucers, 
bason, sugar-dish and plate cost fourteen shillings. I shall 
take it mortally ill if you disappoint me ; I dare say it will 
be your own fault if you do, for I am sure my mama is so 
good that she will permit you; but when you are de- 
termined to give me the trouble of your company let me 


know beforehand, because I will meet you a mile or two 
out of town, and I will also send John down to wait on 
you up. I won't favour you with many more of my words 
at this present writing, only to desire you will present my 
most humble duty to my dear mama, and service to my 
cousins ; pray muster up my books that they have got 
among them, and let me have tbem, if they have done with 
them ; there is Homer's Iliad and the Belle Assemblee, I 
don't remember if they have any others of mine. I am, 

Most affectionately and constantly 
Thine, my dearest Anna. 

If there is anything that I have omitted, I beg I may 
be excused, for I have been so much hurried by my Lad}'- 
Stanley's illness, that I have hardly been able to think 
of anything else. 


An interval here occurs in the correspondence of four months. 
The above letter appears to have been written after the 15th 
April, 1729, and before 22nd July of the same year as proved by 
the dates of the marriages alluded to — viz. — that of Lady Mary 
Fielding to Dr. Cockburn, and that of Lord Dysart which took 
place at the date last named. The visit of Ann Granville to her 
sister, probably occasioued this hiatus. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Granville. 

23 August, 1729. 

Nor Court nor Greenwich have I been at, for the lady 
I have to deal with, not knowing her own mind long 
together, disappointed me of the first intention, and Sir 
Robert Sutton's coming home mal-a-propos, has deferred 
the other. I am more diverted ^^-ith the account of your 
comrades as yoti described them, than I doubt you are. 

p 2 


I will get the worsteds as soon as I come from Northend. 
I have found the prints among those of the Passions, and 
will send them to you with the worsted, which I suppose 
must be to Gloucester, for I suppose your day for leaving 
Brickhill is the 2nd of September. I was yesterday 
at Lady Sunderland's, and supped there. Lady Sun. is 
very busy about japanning : I will perfect myself in the 
art against I make you a visit, and bring materials with 
me. I would advise you not to buy Congreve's life ; only 
hire it, for it is very indifferently done. Yesterday the 
Black Knight ^ dined at Somerset House gay and debon- 
naire, and fuU of his odd sentences. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne OranvUle. 

Somerset House, 9 Sept. 1729. 

I have now before me two letters of my dearest 
sister's to answer. I was hurried away last post, or you 
should sooner have had my thanks for that which I 
received from Oxford. I hope the sights you saw there 
made you amends for the disappointment you met with 
in the journey, and that my mama was able to partake of 
them with you. I think Oxford a charming place, and 
hope some time or other to be able to see it at leisure 
with you, for I never was there but in a hurry, and 
hardly remember anything I saw, except the Divells's ^ 
hand writing at Queen's College Library. It was lucky 
you met with Mr. Merchant, he is an agreeable man. 
That put's me in mind of Grreenwich. I have not taken the 
journey with Lady Sun. ; her husband must be coming to 

' Sir Anthony Westcomb. 

' Thus pronounced at that period. 


town mal-a-propos, and now is hurrying her off to the 
Bath. I doubt I shall not be able to get the surfeit water, 
for my Aunt Stanley slipped her opportunity this year of 
making it, but if she has any I am sure it mil be very 
much at her service. I left her yesterday at Northend 
pretty well, she comes to town to-night; the cause 
of my coming before her, was that I had promised Lady 
Sunderland to go to the South house with her this 

We had not been at Northend an hour last Saturday, 
when a messenger arrived to let my Lady Stanley know 
that the Queen would be at Somerset House on Monday 
by nine o' the clock, and she must be ready there attend- 
ing in her office. She not being able to bear the fatigue 
of it, sent her humble servant Sir John to the business for 
her; whatpassedbetweenhimandher Majesty I cannot tell 
you. I had a letter from Miss Carteret with the enclosed 
copy of verses, that I suppose were addressed to my Lord 
Carteret. The Percivals ^ lament your absence extremely, 
and I love them for it. Mrs. Clayton ^ will soon go into 
Ireland with her husband, who is to be preferred to a 
deanery there ; I shall be sorry to lose her acquaintance, 
for they are all agreeable people. Everybody is mad 
about japan work ; I hope to be a dab at it by the time 
I see you. I must write to Mrs. Basset, who has not yet 
had the conscience to order my money to be paid. 

^ Philip Percival — son of Sir John Pereival, the 3rd Baronet, and brother of 
John, 5th Baronet, who was created Earl of Egmont — went to Ireland at an 
early age, and sat in the Irish Parliament, 1713. He married, June 12, 1712, 
Martha, daughter of Christopher Usher, of Dublin, Esq., and widow of 
Nehemiah Donellan, Esq., Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer in Ireland ; 
by this lady he had a son, Philip, who died an infant. Mr. Percival died in 
London, April 26, 1748. 

' Mrs. Clayton (born Donnellan). Dr. Clayton was afterwards the Bishop 
of Killala, and finally Bishop of Clogher. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Oranville. 

From my own apartment, 
16 Sept. 1729, ten o'clock at night. 

I am more convinced now of the sympathy between 
friends than ever I was in my life, and that in a most 
agreeable manner ; for my spirits have danced for this 
week past, and I could give no reason for it till I received 
yours, where I found they had been very much enter- 
tained (for they never forsake you) ; the}^ took a jaunt to 
Oakly Wood, met cavaliers, stormed castles, in short did 
as many mad things as Nancy and Piggy were capable 
of ; but nothing satisfies them so well as their journey 
to the Bath, where they design to regale themselves with 
every good thing that can be had in the best company ! 

I received your letters last night ; my Aunt Stanley 
had been very ill all day, and was so low-spirited that I 
was afraid of showing your letter lest she should dis- 
approve ; but she asked me so many questions about 
you (for indeed she is always very kind in her enquiries), 
that I at last ventured to tell her where you> were ; and 
she was so far from disapproving, that she is very much 
pleased at your going to the Bath, under the convoy of 
Mrs. Lumley,^ whom she has an extremely good opinion 
of. She gives her service to you, and charges you to put 
on all your best airs and graces, and desires Mrs. Lumley 
(to whom she sends her compliments), that she wiU not 
teach you to be cruel, as she is to all that profess them- 
selves her humble servants. 
^^^ Your white satin came home last week, and is pro- 

i "Mrs. Lumley" probably Ann, daughter of Sir William Wiseman, of 
Cranflield House, Essex, and widow of general the Honourable Henry Lumley. 
He died in 1722 ; she died March 4, 1737. 


digiously pretty. I have sent it to be made, and shall 
send it to the Bath this week. I shall send at the same 
time my Brussels night-clothes, which I desire you will 
wear, and tear if you please, as long as you flaunt it at 
the Bath. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranvlUe. 

Somerset House, 9 Oct. 1729. 

Two posts have I been without writing to my dearest 
Anna ; but faith and troth, I was not able to help it, 
for I have been so hurried about from London to North- 
end, I had not a moment. On Saturday we went to that 
delightful ViUa,^ where I did not much enjoy myself, 
for it rained all the time, and my aunt was in great pain, 
which frightens me extremely. My brother Bevil is as 
well as he can be. I suppose you may have had a letter 
from liim by this time, for he said he would write. I 
wiU take care of yours to him ; but, by the by, I must 
tell you that your members are insufficient, and good for 

^ In the year 1718 Hicks Borough surrendered a messuage at North End, 
called Browne's House, which had formerly been Lord Griffin's, to Sir John 
Stanley, Bart., from whom it passed, anno 1735, to his nephew, William 
Monck, Esq. It was afterwards the property of Francis, Earl Brooke, who 
aliened it to the late Marquis of Downshire. It was purchased in the year 
1761 by the late Sir Gilbert Heathcote, who expended great sums of money in 
embellishing and improving the gardens, and made it one of the most delight- 
ful retreats in the vicinity of London. The plan and disposition of the grounds 
excited universal admiration. Sir Gilbert Heathcote died in November 1785. 
The Dowager Lady Heathcote (daughter of Robert Hudson, Esq.,) continued 
to reside here till the year 1796, when the present baronet sold the estate for 
11,000?. The house has since been pulled down, and the gardens converted 
into brickfields! The road adjoining these premises has been very much 
raised, as appears by an ancient wall, the top of which is not more than 
eighteen inches above it.^— Faulkner's Account of Fulham, published in 1813. 


nothing ; they do their business but sorrily,^ and / have 
paid for their want of ability. I don't do this by way of 
complaint, or that I grudge my pence, but to give you 
friendly advice, and desire, when you have anything to 
be done, that you will provide yourself with abler tools. 
I am delighted with your variety of entertainments. I 
suppose you are returned by this time to the boihng 
springs where cripples wade. 

Yesterday I spent very agreeably with the Percivals. 
Mrs. Clayton called on me in the morning, and we walked 
in the park. It was very fine, and brought to my remem- 
brance the happy hours I have spent in that dear place : 
a chain of thoughts brings the Basilisk" into my mind ; 
but alas ! his idea is not the once sprightly youthfull peer, 
but faint and sickly, just recovered from a fit of illness 
that has almost cost him his life, and has detained him 
a month longer on the other side of the water. His 
sister^ has sympathized with him, and been very ill of a 
fever, I must make some further enquiry about her, 
poor thing. 

I have this morning bought me a scarlet damask 
manteau and petticoat, and a gold-colour tabby night- 
gown. When you are re-settled at your dwelling in 
Gloucester, I hope Piggy will have so much regard for 
her friends in London, as to grant them a view of her 
sweet person. Mrs. Bellenden came to town last night, 
but goes away again to-morrow, and is to stay in the 

* This remark alluded to the had writing on the frauks, which at that 
time only required the signature of the memhers, who it ajjpears often signed 
their names so illegibly that they were not recognized at the Post-Office, and 
the letters were consequently charged. 

* Lord Baltimore. 
' Mrs. Hyde. 


country with Lady Thanet ^ till February ; she makes 
great enquiries after " Eyebrows J' but I know nothing 
since I saw him. Did you tell me that Ha Ha made 
the verses of Moninia to Lothario ? They were printed 
a great while ago, and another author named for them, 
but I don't know who. 

Mm. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranvUle. 

18 November, 1729. 

I have but a moment's time to thank my dearest sister 
for her letter, which gave me more pleasure than the 
Court I had just left. Mrs. Clayton had a mind to go 
and I could not refuse her, though I had been at the 
drawing-room the Friday before. 

Yesterday I dined at Lord , my Lord dined 

there also. Conversation did not run high, everyone's 
passions seemed to be in agitation, but your humble 
servant. I had calmness enough to make remarks, and 
if I can judge by countenance what passes in the heart 
no one was satisfied at the table. The most agreeable of 
the company solicited for a regard that was alone his 
due, but what he could not obtain.'^ The other shewed 
the indifference of a disgusted lover ; and the lady played 
her part not so cunningly as such a woman generally 
does ; a fourth person has but an iU time of it in such 

Lady A who has all her life acted like a fool, has 

* Sackvile, Earl of Thanet, married on the 11th of June, 1722, to the 
Lady Mary Savill, youngest of the two daughters, and coheirs of William, 
Marquis of Halifax, by whom he had — 1. John, who died 1734. 2. Sackvile, 
born in August 1733. 3. Mary, bom in 1723. 4. Charlotte, bom in 1728. 
The Countess died July 30, 1751. 

* This remark probably alluded to Lord Lansdown. 


now been publicly exposed by her monstrous conduct. 
Sure the women were never so audacious as they are 
now ; this may well be called the brazen age. The purity 
and innocence that reigns in the country will make you 
stare at these pranks, but they pass for nothing in 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

20tli Novr., 1729. 

Thank God I have escaped better than my neighbours, 
I had a common cold, but a day's nursing set me to rights 
again. I gave you an account in general of my going to 
Court, but did not tell you that the King asked me where 
I had been all the summer, and how I passed my time in 
the country ? and the Prince told me I did not look as if I 
had had an illness. The Princess Caroline ^ asked me when 
I heard from Lady Carteret, but she mumbled so that I 
did not know what she said, and at a venture answered. 
No ; and when I recollected what she said to me I was 
not a little confounded at my nonsense. 

In sober sadness I must inform you of the departure of 
poor Bas. ; ^ the last letters that came from Italy said that 
he was then dangerously ill of a fever that had reduced 
him so much, that should he recover the fever it was not 
possible for him to live long. I am really sorry ; he was 
a good-natured generous brother, and liis successor will 
fall short of him every way : this is actual truth, would 
it were not ! 

I dined at Lord Lansdowne's on Monday, and left my 

^ Elizabeth Caroline, 3rd daughter of George II. and Queen Caroline ; was 
born May 1713, died unmarried December 28, 1757. 
^ Lord Baltimore. 


Lady at quadrille. The party was her Ladyship, Mrs. 
Piilteney, Lord Romney,^ and Lord Hervey, who is quite 
recovered and looks better than ever I saw him. They 
talked of Captain Hervey' s ^ going to be married to a rich 
brewer's daughter of Bristol, and that Tom was gone 
down to the wedding. I have not seen the Percivals a 
great while. I am reaUy of opinion that if people passed 
more of their lives in the country, poetry would not be at 
so low an ebb, for I am sure neither London nor the way 
of living in it, \\ill give any opportunity for the muses to 
show their talents : cards are the only diversion, and the 
few men of taste that we have, are so devoted to Spadille, 
that ApoUo is quite neglected; nay I think the Matadores 
even rival Bacchus, and that is the only merit they have. 

Except Mrs. Percival's and Lady Sunderland's I don't 
know a reasonable fireside in all this city. Yester- 
day I had the pleasure of spending some hours alone 
with her, you were the subject of our discourse. Thou 
tirt a vain girl ; you desire to know what is said of you, 
and you know well enough it cannot be to your disad- 
vantage ; but for once I will teU you truly what was said 
concerning you, which was that you behaved yourself 
very well, and were very much liked by everybody, and 
though there were some that were envious at the devo- 
tion paid you by master Jackey,^ yet nobody spoke 
spitefuUy of you. 

I design to go to my Lady Guise's assemblies if she 

> Robert, 2nd Baron Eomney. 

2 Captain Hervey must have been one of the eleven sons of John Hervey, 1st 
Earl of Bristol, by his second \rife, Elizabeth, only daughter and heir of Six 
Thomas Nelton, of Playford, Bart., Suffolk. 

^ " Master Jacky " was probably John, the only son of Sir John Guise, 
Bart., M.P. for the county of Gloucester, by Elizabeth, daughter of Sir 
Nathaniel Napier, Bart., of Critchell. 


has any, and I will make an acquaintance with the little 
thing. Should he come to Gloucester don't give yourself 
shy airs ; I don't believe he is a person of that punctilio 
to like a woman better for being upon such great reserve ; 
the Countess gives him a character that is no way 
despicable. I hope I shall be able to send the box by 
Saturday's carrier with Mrs. Greville's gown which I 
sent to the man as soon as I received it, and shall to-day 
get the screen and the buckles. 

Gauze heads are now the top mode : I will send you 
one exactly in the fashion and charge you to wear it 
without any alterations. You will think it strange coarse 
stuff, but it is as good as the Queen's, and sure that's 
good enough for you. 

My Lady Sunderland told me the other day without 
my asking her, that she would speak to my Lord Sun- 
derland and make him promise her the reversion of 
Altrope living for my brother Bevil, which is a very 
good one, a fine house for him to live in, and the advan- 
tage of a patron that will have it in his power to pro- 
mote him : it was very kind and obliging. Sir Charles 
Dalton^ is not in town. I had a letter from Mrs. Dash- 
wood about a week ago. The Tom Tit has been very ill, 
but is chirping again. Mrs. Peyton made a conquest at 
Tunbridge that was at first thought worthy of her ac- 
ceptance, but it has proved otherwise. 

* " Charles Dalton, Esq., Senior Gentleman Usher and Daily Waiter to His 
Majesty, appointed Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod, in the room of Sir 
William Saunderson, Kt. and Bart., who died 17th May, 1727. His Majesty 
conferred the honour of knighthood on the said Charles Dalton, Esq." 

OF MRS. DELANT. ' 221 

Lord Lansdowne to Mrs. Pendarves. 

Nov. 21, 1729. 

My Dear Niece, 

I am to thank you for the favour of your letter 
of October 26, your style. You have no occasion to 
have recourse to the diversions of the town to make 
your letters entertaining. The dulness of the place can 
have no influence over you, who have a fund of your 
own, which stands in need of no supply from any other 

I hope your brother will find his account by the 
journey he has taken ; he is at least in the road of pre- 
ferment. I wish I could say the same of poor Bevil. 

Tlie opening of the Parliament will fill your town, and 
revive all your pleasures. I am told there are arrived 
here lately two Roman ladies who equal Cuzzoni in 
their voices, and surpass all the world in their beauty. 
There is an Italian concert established here by subscrip- 
tion, for those of this country who have that taste : the 
performance is twice a week. None are permitted to 
enter but subscribers ; I can therefore say nothing of it 
from my own knowledge ; only by hearsay I learn they 
have made their appearance with great applause. I am 
as much a stranger to the pleasures of this town, as if I 
was in another country. I have a httle gallery which 
opens upon a garden, which furnishes me with air and 
exercise without going abroad to seek it ; a few books to 
employ serious hours, and my children for play-fellows 
at idle ones. It is thus, my dear niece, that I saunter 
away life in a philosophical way, abstracted from all 
those vain pursuits in which the generaHty of mankind 
lose so much time. 


I thank you for telling me Lady Lansdowne is in 
such good health and in such beauty ; but pray tell me, 
is it not a hard case that she should be so well and so 
handsome, and the sea between us ? Notwithstanding 
what you write about my sister Stanley, that she has 
not had her health so well a great while, you must 
pardon me if I am not satisfied ; I have written several 
letters to her which I am sure she would have answered 
if she had been well. Her kindness I can never doubt, 
and therefore there must be something more in her 
silence than I am permitted to know ; this reflexion 
gives me many uneasy moments. 

I was told here two months ago that Sir John had 
left Scotland," he must then have been returned long 
since. Having filled four sides it would be unreasonable 
to begin another. I conclude with assuring you, my 
dear niece, that I am, most sincerely, 

Y"^ most affectionate 

Uncle and faithful serv*' 


The remark of Lord Lansdown, '* I hope your brother will 
find his account by the journey he has taken," probably alludes 
to an attachment of Bernard Granville's, Mrs. Pendarves's elder 
brother, (" Bunny.") There is a family tradition that a dis- 
appointment in love, caused his total desertion of Cornwall, where 
so much time was spent in his early years, to which part of 
Great Britain his uncle, Lord Lansdown, was so much attached, 
and to which all his father's family belonged. On becoming his 
own master, he purchased the estate of Calwich Abbey in Staf- 
fordshire, where he lived and died unmarried. This estate was 
sold in this century by his great nephew and heir, (the grandson 
of Ann Granville,) to the Honourable and Rev. F. Duncombe, 


Dean of York. The house has been since razed to the ground, 
and another built in another situation. The former house con- 
tained the fine pictures belonging to Sir Martin Westcomb, as 
well as his library and valuable collection of drawings by the old 
masters; and also Mr. Granville's 37 MS. vols, of Handel's 
music, copied under the personal superintendence of that gi-eat 
master for Mr. Granville, who was both his patron and friend. 

Mrs. Pendarvea to Mrs. Anne Granville. 

I am pleased that you took so mucli notice of Miss 
Usher. Last Saturday morning I went with Mrs. Don- 
nellan to hear a rehearsal of church music composed by 
Mr. Green — a Te Deum and an anthem ; they were both 
very good. I engaged her to come home and dine with 
me, and I gave her boiled chick, roast mutton, and 
apricot tart. She has a sensible soul, and has had a friend 
she doated on as we do on each other ; she spoke so sen- 
sibly and movingly of her that it touched me prodigiously. 
It was an elder sister of Miss Usher's, adorned with 
uncommon accomplishments of mind and body ; she 
married greatly, and in the midst of the most splendid, 
gay, and happy life, was seized with a consumption that 
hurried her from what she enjoj^ed here, in all likelihood 
to an uninterrupted happy state. They were exactly of 
an age, and brought up together ; I pitied her prodigi- 
ously, and it gave a serious turn to our discourse. 
I could not help indulging her in that way, because I 
am sure, under the same unhappy circumstances, I should 
have liked it. 

In the afternoon, Mrs. Percival and Mrs. Clayton came 
and drank tea with me, and stayed till ten o'clock. Yester- 
day I dined at my Lord Lansdowne's, where my mama 


and you were kindly enquired after, and your health 
drank. My Lord and My Lady have both very bad colds ; 
the young ladies are at Old Windsor ; no news yet of Mr- 
Graham ; the men are odd fantastic things. At night, 
when T returned, I was kindly met by your letter. 

I was not at the Cour, therefore cannot be very par- 
ticular in my account of the Birthday, there was very 
little finery and many old clothes. The only particular 
lady was the Duchess of Eichmond,^ who is just re- 
turned from Paris. She was quite in the French mode, 
her clothes very fine and handsome — silver tissue ground 
and velvet flowers ; her head was yellow gauze, and 
her lappets tied with pufis of scarlet ribbon, about two 
inches distance. With difficulty they made up a set of 
seven couple for country dances. My cold was then so 
troublesome, I would not venture for fear of increasing 
it, but now I am very well again. Amidst all the in- 
creases that matrimony may produce us, if ever we 
condescend to that state, we shall have no increase of 
happiness, that I verily believe ; for in every state of life 
we have a share of sorrows in proportion to the pleasures 
dealt to us. I am not of the vulgar notion that fortune is 
so very partial. In general, if we are afflicted with pains 
of the body, there is then a double portion of fortitude in 
the mind to support it — unless people have an evil con- 
science, the misery of that there is not any salve for ; 
and I believe the afflicted always have some consola- 
tion in their severest trials ; and as on the other hand, 
all pleasures have a drawback in the main (be our lot 
what it will) our state of happiness will be much the 

1 Charles, 2nd duke, married December 4, 1719, Sarah, eldest daughter 
and co-heir of William, Earl Cadogan. She died in 1751. 


same. I am sorry your ladies should tiff anything but 
their hair; I am in confusion when I think of the 
Unities/ but I protest I have not time to write, as you 
may see. But to be serious ; by the time I have finished 
this epistle, you may guess it will be time for me to dress, 
that am to dine at Somerset House. You are a naughty 
girl for not sending the book to SaUy ; pray has she got 
her silk ? Adieu for this time, without any rhyme ; 
Heyday ! I think my pen and ink wiU make me a poet, 
and not let me know it. I forgot to say my cat has 
four kits. 

I am, my dearest sister, yours, most affectionately, 

M. Pendarves. 

The Usher family here alluded to were settled in Ireland for 
many centuries : they appfer to have been a branch of the Neville 
family. Many of them held the highest offices in the city of 
Dublin for several generations previous to the birth of Archbishop 
Usher who subsequently rendered their name illustrious, and 
whose father, Arnold Usher, one of the six clerks of the Irish 
chancery, was a man of remarkable learning and ability. His 
mother was Margaret, daughter of James Stanihurst, speaker of 
the Irish House of Commons. James Usher was bom in the 
city of Dublin in 1580, and educated at Trinity College. He 
took holy orders in 1601, and was Divinity Professor in the 
University of Dublin from 1607 to 1620, when he was made 
Bishop of Meath. In 1624, being raised to the Archbishopric 
of Armagh, he became primate of all Ireland. He was eminent 
for his piety, and his erudition has been eulogised as " colossal." 
He took the royal side in the ci\al strife, and was conse- 
quently deprived of his property, as well as his ecclesiastical 
dignities; he died in 1656, at Ryegate in Surrey, leaving many 
valuable and learned works. Collateral branches of the Usher 

» The Miss UnittsT 
VOL. I. Q 


family were numerous in the eighteenth centuiy, and are men- 
tioned by Bishop Gibson, in his last edition of Camden's 
" Britannia," (1772) as being still in a flourishing condition. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Qranville. 

5 December, 1729. 

Millions of thanks for dedicating so mucli precious 
time to me! indeed, without that indulgence the plea- 
sures of this place would be as insipid to me as the 
common conversation one daily meets with, which only 
turns either upon the sickly season, the bad weather, 
and the strange behaviour of Lady A., and some more of 
the same character. These are subjects that would afford 
very good morals, and be far fropi displeasing topics in 
conversation, if people would give themselves time to 
make reflections ; but instead of that, the woman is 
pitied — *^ poor thing /" her " stars " are blamed ; she was 
unlucky, indiscreet not to manage more cunningly, 
and by the generality of the world she is more con- 
demned for not hiding her fault than for committing it. 

Does not this give one a very sad idea of the virtue 
of the times ? It is enough to make one a cynic, to 
shun the world, and shut oneself up in a tub as Diogenes 
did ; but I must acknowledge, though the age is 
very degenerate, that it is not quite void of per- 
fection. I know some persons that still reconcile me to 
the world, and convince me that virtue is not fled, though 
it is confined to a few. The first and chief of these I need 
not name, the next, for sanctity of manners and inward 
worth, as well as outward accomplishments, T think I 
must name the Percival family, they have the free- 


dom and agreeableness of conversation that makes tliera 
liked by everybody ; and they are not so much in awe of 
the world but that they do take all opportunities of 
recommending virtue and reproving vice : I have seen 
several instances of it since my acquaintance with them. 
How happy would my mama be in their conversation ! 
it is more like her own charming turn than any I ever 
met. I shall be sorry when they quit the kingdom, 
for they are people worth cultivating a friendship with. 
I give up Mrs. Clayton, for she will have a call soon to 
her own country, that will place her in so good a 
station, that I can't injure her so much as to wish she 
may stay long here ; for her husband, I believe, will be 
made a bishop, and as an instance of his goodness, 
though his estate is most of it in England, and he is an 
Englishman born, it is said he chooses a bishopric in 
Ireland rather than here (though he is offered one here of 
more advantage to him), because he thinks he can do more 
service there ; but I believe Mr. Percival will not go away 
soon, because he is defending the cause of an oppressed 
lady, who has no other friend zealous enough to stick 
by her, and she is engaged in a lawsuit that may last 
some years. ^ 

Thus far of my letter I writ this morning, and was 
called upon by Mrs. Clayton and Mrs. Donellan to go 
into the city, which I accordingly did. We went to 
Mrs. Barnes's, where I saw nothing extraordinary but 
the fine japan you so much despised : it put me in 
mind of the fine ladies of our age — it delighted my eyes, 
but gave no pleasui*e to my understanding. After we 

^ Mrs. Tennison, a widow of large fortune, who became, in the year 1732, 
the first wife of Dr. Delany. 



liad bought some pennyworths there, they set me down 
at Somerset House, where I found my aunt very indif- 

I went last Wednesday to see old Mrs. Hyde, wlio 
has been in town about a fortnight, not with a design to 
ask anything of unfortunate Bas : but she happened to 
name that unhappy man, and then it was civil for me 
to ask if she had had any news ? She said the accounts 
they had were very bad, but not certain, but she believed 
if he was not drowned, which was too much to be feared, 
that he was detained somewhere upon account of his ill 
health, for he was very ill when he set sail for England, 
and so extremely weak, that they did not imagine he 
could outlive the voyage. I made Mrs. Tayler a visit this 
afternoon, where I met Mr. Neadler : he played two or 
three solos sweetly upon the violin : it soothed some of my 
melancholy thoughts, and I was sorry when he had done. 

Yesterday 1 went with Mrs. Percival and Miss Donel- 
lan to the Crown in the Strand, to hear some music of 
Dr. Blow's^ and Purcell's. I was very well pleased with 
the solemnity of it : it is performed by the gentlemen of 
the club — the vocal part by the King's choir. 

Saturday Morning, G Dec. 1729. 

I think I have not said one word of the opera yet, and 
that is an unpardonable omission ; but when you know 
the salutation I had upon my entrance into the Opera- 

* John Blow, M. D., is mentioned in Dr. Burney's History of Music as the 
instructor of several of the most distinguished musicians of his time, and 
among them of Purcell. Dr. Blow was born in 1G48 at North CoUingham, 
Notts, and was one of the first set of " children of the Chapel Royal " after 
King Charles the Second's restoration. In 1 687 he was appointed almoner and 
master of the choristers at St. Paul's, He was afterwards organist of West- 
minster Abbey. He composed some fine church music and other pieces. 


house, you will not be surprized that I forgot all things 
I heard there. Mr. Cole sat by me and told me that 
the news of Bas was confirmed. I had not so much 
hardness in my nature as to hear of his deplorable end 
without being shocked, and whether it was owing to 
that, or that the opera really is not so meritorious as 
Mr. Handel's generally are, but I never was so little 
pleased with one in my life. Bernachi, the most famous 
of the men, is not approved of; he is certainly a good 
singer, but does not suit the English ears. La Strada 
and the rest are very well liked. I desire you will 
engage the favorite Druid to give me the meeting next 
summer at Gloucester. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Granville. 

Pall Mall, 20 Dec. 1729. 

The opera is too good for the vile taste of the town : it 
is condemned never more to appear on the stage after 
this night. I long to hear its dying song, poor dear 
swan. We are to have some old opera revived, which I 
am sorry for, it will put people upon making comparisons 
between these singers and those that performed before, 
which will be a disadvantage among the ill-judging mul- 
titude. The present opera is disliked because it is too 
much studied, and they love nothing but minuets and 
ballads, in short the Beggars' Opera and Hurlothrumho 
are only worthy of applause. 

I am sorry your Assembly droops, but I hope it will 
continue (not drooping I don't mean), company may 
come to the town that will make it flourish. I am glad 
the favourite Druid exerts his lungs so much to your 
satisfaction, I shall grieve if he escapes me next summer. 


I am to make my acknowledgments to you for the 
help of your scissors. The little poppets are very well cut, 
but you must take more pains about the trees and shrubs, 
for no white paper must be left, and the leaves must be 
shaped and cut distinctly round the edges of the trees ; 
most of the paper I have cut has cost me as much pains 
as if it was white paper. 

Now I shall give you some account of my conversa- 
tion last night. Mrs. Clayton and Miss Donellan were 
my company, we chose to sit some time in the out- 
ward room, their being no possibility of getting to the 
circle till it thinned a little. The American Prince ^ came 
and sat by me, and after common compliments he 
said he must ask after his friend our sister, where 
she was and what she had done with herself? I told 
him of your flauntings, I ask'd him if he had been in 
as many perils as was rumoured of him, he said no. 
I told him Mrs. Hyde and his family had been under 
great apprehensions and concern : he said he was very 
much obliged to his friends, he wished he knew if I had 
once thought of him or was sorry when I heard he was 
cast away ? I asked him why he should suppose I had so 
much ill-nature as not to be sorry for so unfortunate 
an accident to an acquaintance. " That cornmoti compassion* 
(says he in a tiff) "would give me but little satisfaction** 
We were so conveniently placed as not to have neigh- 
bours, and he spoke very low, but I was so much afraid of 
being overheard that I gave him very little encourage- 

* " American Prince," one of the names used to designate Lord Baltimore, 
adopted from his being proprietor of the province of Maryland in America. It 
appears that there must have been a letter between the present date of 20tli 
Dec. and the preceding one of 5th Dec, contradicting the previous report of 
Lord Riltimore's death and mentioning his safe return to England. 


ment to speak ; I told him of the accident that had 
happened to Lady Betty Lee's leg.^ He said he hoped 
that I did not like her acquaintance or encourage it, for 
it " was not worthy of me, that he hated her," " that his 
aversion and quarrel with her was upon my account, and 
he never could forgive her'"' Lady Lansdown was there, 
hut I narrowly escaped her, for she is resolved to play 
me some trick whenever she meets me and Ba^. in the 
same place, and he avoids her as much as I do. I think 
him grown thinner, but he looked very well and not a 
bit of a tar. Who should be at the drawing-room last 
night, but the Prince of Asturias, awkwardly civil, and 
he led me to the coach. 

" Hurlothrumbo," (or " the Supernatural,") the play mentioned 
in the above letter, was written by Samuel Johnson, a dramatic 
writer and performer, of eccentric celebrity, who died 1755. The 
editor of Dr. Byrom's works says, that he wrote an epilogue 
which the author took as a compliment, and had it both spoken 
and printed with the piece; that it had a run of above thirty 
nights — its oddity, whimsicality, and originality, having amazing 
success. It was, however, surmised, that Dr. Byrom supplied 
more than the epilogue, and this idea is confirmed by the simi- 
larity of style. The following lines are a specimen of the 
epilogue : — 

" Author. Rules, 

Like clocks and watches, were all made for fools. 
Critic. Pray, sir, which is the hero of your play ? 
Author. Hero ! why they are all heroes in their way. 
Critic. But here's no plot, or none that's understood ! 
Author. Here's a rebellion, though, and that's as good. 
Critic. No spirit or genius in't. 
Author. Why, didst not hear ? 

A spirit and a genius both appear. 

* Lady Betty Lee and Lord Baltimore's mother were sisters, daughters of 
Edward Lee, 1st Earl of Litchfield. 


Critic. Pooh ! 'tis all stuff and nonsense. 

Author. Lackaday! why thafs the very essence ofajjay. 
Your old house, new house, opera, and ball, 
"J'is nonsense. Critic, that supports 'em all. 
As you yourselves ingeniously have shown, 
Whilst on their nonsense you have built your ovm. 

*' Ye sons of nonsense read my Hurlothrumbo, 
Turn it betwixt your finger and your thumbo, 
And being quite outdone, be quite struck dumbo." 

" Critic, or player, a Dennis, or a Cibber, 
Vie only which shall make it go down glibber. 
A thousand murd'rous ways they cast about 
To stijle it, but, murder like, Hwill out. 
Our author fairly without so much fuss 
Shows it — in puris naturalibus." 

" So true a stage, so fair a play for laughter 
There never was before nor ever will come after." 

*' Eandel himself shall yield to Hurlothrumbo, 
And Bononcini too shall cry succumbo : 
That's if the ladies condescend to smile, 
Their looks make sense, or nonsense, in this isle." 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Xtmas Day, 1729. Ten o'clock morning. 

I am just returned from doing my first and most 
material duty in life. St. James's Chapel is very con- 
venient, for prayers, sermon, and sacrament every Sunday 
and every holy day throughout the year : it begins at eight 
o'clock in the morning, and I go into the vestry, where I 
am quiet and warm. Bas^ made me a visit on Monday. 
Saturday last I went to the opera. Guyamore was there, 
and sat behind me the first act, came again as soon as the 

* "Bas," short for Basilisk, the name by which Lord Baltimore is generally 
designated in these letters. " Guyamore " was also another name for Lord 
Baltimore, as well as the " American Prince," 


opera was done and led me to my cliair ; talked in the old 
strain, of being unhappy, and that I was to answer for all 
his flights and extravagance. I told him that was so large 
a charge, that I should be sorry to have it placed to 
my account. However, on Monday he came ; when he 
came into the room I could not help wishing his mind 
might be answerable to his appearance, for I never saw 
him look so well. He sat down, and immediately asked 
me " if I did not think they were miserable people that 
were strangers to love ; but, added he, you are so great 
a philosopher that I dread your answer." I told him, as 
for ** philosophy, I did not pretend to it ; " but " I endea- 
voured to make my life easy by living according to 
reason, and that my opinion of love was that it either 
made people very miserable or very happy," he said it 
**7nade him miserable." " That, I suppose, my Lord," 
said I, " proceeds from yourself : perhaps you place it upon 
a wrong foundation r He looked confounded, turned the 
discourse, and went away immediately after. I must 
confess I could not behave myself with indifference, and 
I have been in no public place since. I shall not care 
to meet him ; but if I do I will let you know how he 
behaves for the future. 

My Lady A.'s behaviour, and some more wives of the 
same stamp, has so disgraced matrimony, that I am not 
surprized that men are afraid of it ; and if we consider 
the loose morals of the men, it is strange the women are 
so easily won to their own undoing. 

Give me a cot beside a grove, where I may never hear of love 
But such as friendsliip does inspire, no higher bliss do I desire ; 
With thee, my Ann, to live and dye, and Cupid's arrows to defye. 

The pictures I sent you are not my own colouring. I 
am going to do boxes for a toilette. I will send you a 


box and some varnisli ; but as to the laying the ground 
I doubt you will find it difficult, unless I could show you 
the way, which I hope next summer to accomplish. 

The above letter marks a crisis in the life of the writer, and a 
perceptible difference is observable in her style of writing from 
this year. During Mr. Pendarves's life her letters to her sister 
were not cmifidential as that sister was too young to be entrusted 
with the sorrows and trials of the interior of her home — they 
were merely demonstrative of her affection for and interest in 
Ann Granville, and of the pleasure she took in sending her a 
general journal of her outer life. • After Mr. Pendarves's death she 
began gradually to show a real enjoyment in all the amusements 
of life natural to youth, her intellect gradually expanded, and as 
her sister became older, she confided in her, to a limited extent, 
her feelings towards Lord Baltimore. It is evident, however, that 
she never expressed, in her correspondence the depth of her attach- 
ment to him ; and were it not for the following pages of her own 
autobiography, the desperate struggle she underwent to tear 
from her heart one whom she believed undeserving of her affec- 
tion, would not have been known ; as she tells Ann Granville as 
little as possible consistent with letting her know the outline of 
the truth, and that all was over between Lord Baltimore and 
herself, and immediately afterwards tries to turn her sister's 
attention to painting and other ingenious occupations, endeavour- 
ing to show that she herself is taking, and will take, increased 
interest in them. There is no attempt to extort pity — no de- 
claration of a breaking heart. She had immediately formed her 
resolution to overcome her attachment for a man who trifled with 
her feelings, as soon as she was convinced he was unworthy of her 
regard, but she did not make any merit of doing this, she did 
not commiserate herself, or torment her friends. She strove to 
be cheerful, determined to employ herself, and finally was rewarded 
by the attainment of that happiness which at first she only out- 
wardly assumed. The words, '* I do not care to see him again," 
meant, in the phraseology of the time, I do not tvish to see 


him again. Happy would it be for many of the girls in this 
century, if they would thus heroically cast ofiF, at once and for 
ever, their dangling lovers, when convinced that they are only 
followed for pastime, and that there is no fixed principle in those 
who are insidiously stealing their hearts away, without the 
slisrhtest intention of devoting their lives to them in return. 

Lady Stanley to Mrs. Anne OranviUe. 

Dear Niece and Goddaughter, 

I have delayed informing you of my dear deceased 
goddaughter, Mrs. Anne Tillier's will, because I was 
finding some way to have had that little box delivered 
that you will now find is one directed for you with 
some things that I desire your acceptance of, hoping 
they may be of use for variety till your sister Pendarvis 
sends you your manto and petticoat to be a brides- 
maid. I hope that you will adorn and shine in the 
society, and in a little time write to me, and ask a better 
manto fit for a bride, which I shall take great pleasure 
to do, and willrub up my old fancy for you, being, dear 

Your most humble serv*, 

Anne Stanley. 

My humble service to my sister. 

I have taken the liberty to send her a Cheshire cheese, 
as Mrs. Pendarvis saith they are not to be bought in 
Gloster, and a Httle hamper of Spanish wine that was 
sent me. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Pall Mall, 7 Feb., 1729-30. 

My dearest sister knows well how to indulge every 
sentiment of my heart, and always does in the highest 
degree heal it when vexed, and doubles all its joys. It 
is a mistaken notion that speaking to a friend of the 
affliction they are under adds to their pain — far from it : 
'tis a comfort, for when the mind is possessed of any 
particular object, it is the greatest satisfaction to talk it 
over, and any other subject is unnatural and irksome. 
Don't say your advice is not wanting, for when our 
reason is overwhelmed with the gusts of passion, and 
unable to exert itself, tli€n a friend's advice is absolutely 
necessary to support and recal us to a right behaviour ; 
but I would not have you infer from this that I am in 
great affliction. I am also extremely sorry for my poor 
aunt, but more grieved at the painful condition she lies 
in than at the thought of her death ; for she has been so 
miserable a woman ever since she lost Mrs. Tillier, that 
the world will be no loss to her, though she will be to 
the world : I have resigned her for some time, and she 
seems very sensible of her own danger. I must own Sir 
John gives me great pain ; I never saw more tenderness 
and concern than he shows upon her account, and I 
really believe he will not long survive her. 

I am glad you have got Madame de Sevigne's letters. 
I am afraid they will lose a great deal of their spirit by 
being translated. You will find they never were intended 
to be published, by the Httle odd circumstances often 
mentioned ; but they are so tender that they delight me, 
and in the Brench have a great deal of wit. I will send 


tlie Japan book to the coffee-house for Mr. Skin, and 
Timoleon the new play. The news you write of my 
Lord Carteret^ was put in the papers, but I have not 
heard it confirmed. 

I have not seen any of the agreeable Percivals a great 
while, they have sent often to me to come and dine 
with them, but I have not been able to leave my aunt. 

You may take all my lovers amongst you, and try 
what you can make out of them. Let me see, there's 
first Don Diego, solemn and stately, and if you will take 
his o^\Ti word, well read in all arts and sciences. Passive 
obedience and non-resistance is his text, and the doctrine 
that he will teach with a vengeance. The next is a 
deserter ; he can be of no use, he was a pretty plaything 
enough — could sing and dance, but as he has listed under 
another banner, I strike him out of my list. Now, as 
for those others laid to my charge I declare myself not 
guilty. The first in quality is an Adonis in person, but 
his mind, alas ! how idle, how vain I however, he would 
make a pretty show by a fair lady's side in a fine berline, 
with six prancing Flanders mares, and as for his domes- 
tick behaviour, he would acquit himself as well as most 
of his neighbours, but as that won't satisfy me, I 
deliver him over to society, perhaps they will accept of 
him on his own terms. An alderman, a councillor, and 
two or three more such odd animals I will send down in 
a bag together, and you may cast lots for them, they 
are not worth my wearing. They may do well enough 

' Lord Carteret was, at the date of this letter, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland 
and on the 19th of June of the same year, the usual time of holding that ap- 
pointment having expired, the Duke of Dorset was appointed to succeed him 
and he had no public employment from that time till February, 1742, when 
he became prime minister. 


in the country, but they would be as awkward here as if 
I was to wear a commode} 

I never see Piggy : she is quite out of my way j but 
she might call upon me, because she has a coach at 
command. I shall always love her for her civility to 
you, though considering the pleasure it procured her her 
merit on that account is not so prodigious ; however, I re- 
spect her for knowing so well how to bestow her favours. 

You did not answer about Mrs. Wyndham. Mr. 
Southwell is a good husband. 

Allusion is again made in this letter to mental sufferings which 
of course relate to the cruel desertion of Lord Baltimore, and it is 
much to be regretted that the letter of Ann Granville on that sub- 
ject has not been found. From this period a more serious tone per- 
vades the letters of Mrs. Pendarves, whose mind evidently had 
constantly improved under her trials, and whose character was 
strengthened and developed in proportion as fortitude was 
required. Her aunt, Lady Stanley, died the month following 
the date of the above letter. Her death is thus recorded in the 
Historical Register : 

" March 1st, 1730. Dy'd in her apartment at Somerset House, 
of which palace she was housekeeper, the Lady Stanley, wife of 
Sir John Stanley, Bart., one of the Commissioners of His Majesty's 
Customs. She was sister of George Granville, Lord Lansdown, of 
Biddiford in the county of Devon." 

^ Commode [French]. The head-dress of women. 

" Let them reflect how they would be affected should they meet with a man 
on horseback, in his breeches and jack boots, dressed up in a commode and a 
night rail." — Spectator. 

" She has contrived to show her principle by the setting of her commode ; 
so that it will be impossible for any woman that is disaffected to be in the 
fashion." — Addisori's Freeliolder. 

She, like some pensive statesman, walks demure, 
And smiles, and hugs, to make destruction sure ; 
Or under high commodes, with looks erect, 
Barefac'd devours, in gaudy colours deck'd, 





My last letter ended with my rallying Herminius at 
the drawing-room upon the report spread of his heing 
lost. He answered, it was very indifferent to him what 
effect the report had on the generahty of the world : 
he wished he could know how I had been affected 
on the occasion, for that was of more consequence to 
him ? I told him very honestly and artlessly that I was 
much concerned^ and felt great satisfaction in seeing him 
safe returned. I had no sooner said the words than I 
accused myself of having said too much, and was in such 
confusion that I was glad to leave my place and follow 
the lady ' with whom I came to Court, and who proposed 
our going away. As I did not frequent public places 
much, and my aunt, I thought, would not approve of 
my seeing Herminius often at home, we seldom met that 
year, for I was out of town the greatest part of the 
summer, and the winter following. Towards the next 
spring I came to to^vn and settled in a house by myself.^ 

I found Valeria in a very declining way, and my whole 
attention and time was given up to her and my unfortu- 
nate younger brother, on whose account I had been in 
distress some years. One night Valeria thought herself 
better and insisted on my going to the opera ; she was 
afraid of my great confinement to her room and the per- 
plexity I labored under on my brother's account would 
prejudice my health, and her tenderness for me made her 

Lady Sunderland. « In Pall Mall. 


insist on my doing what at that time was really painful 
to me, but to oblige her I went. Herminius was there, 
and placed himself just behind me; he told me he won- 
dered where I had buried myself; he could neither see 
me at home nor abroad, and that he had been miserable to 
see me ; that since his opportunities were so few he could 
no longer help declaring that he " had been in love with me 
for Jive years,'' during which time I had kept him in such 
awe that he had not had courage to make a declaration of 
his love to me. I was in such confusion I knew not what I 
saw or heard for some time, but finding he was going on 
with the same subject, I softly begged he would not inter- 
rupt my attention to the opera, as if he had anything to say 
to me, that was not the proper place. He then asked " if 
I should be at home the next day ?" I said " I should." 
I cannot say I listened much to the music, and I 
had a secret • satisfaction in thinking this affair would 
be explained some way or other, and free me from 
the anxiety of uncertainty. The next day he came 
punctually, very much dressed and in good spirits. I 
cannot recollect minutely our conversation. It began with 
common talk of news. Some marriage was named, and 
we both observed how little probability of happiness 
there was in most of the fashionable matches where in- 
terest and not inclination was consulted. At last he said 
he was determined never to marry, unless he was well 
assured of the affection of the person he married. My 
reply was, can you have a stronger proof (if the person 
is at her own disposal) than her consenting to marry 
you ? He replied that was not sufficient. I said he was 
unreasonable, upon which he started up and said, " I find, 
madam, this is a point in which we shall never agree." 


He looked piqued and angry, made a low bow and went 
away immediately, and left me in such confusion that I 
could hardly recollect what had past, nor can I to this hour, 
— but from that time till he was married we never met. 

The vexation of mind I had laboured under for some 
time, the fatigue and great distress I went through on 
Valeria's account, whom I found much worse on my 
return from that opera, affected me to so great a degree 
that I fell ill of a fever the very day that Herminius 
made me that last extraordinary visit. As it fell on my 
spirits, I was for some days in a great deal of danger. 

During my whole confinement he never once enquired 
after me.^ Before I was well my Aunt Valeria died, 
whose death was a most sensible affliction to me. I lost 
a wise, tender, and faithful friend. Sebastian, whose 
tender friendship I must ever acknowledge, seemed to 
double his regard for me on our mutual loss, and I en- 
deavoured to pay him that respect and gratitude so 
justly his due. As soon as I was able to go abroad, I 
went with him to his villa,^ but that so severely renewed 
my trouble, or rather added to it, that I was not able to 
bear it. I then proposed to a dear friend of mine, Silvia ' 
(who had shown the utmost tenderness and kindness 
whilst I was ill), to take a lodging at the pleasantest 
village within ten miles of London.* 

She readily consented; we joined in the expence, and 
our situation was as pleasant as anything could be. Her 
good sense, her peculiar agreeable talent for conversation, 

^ It is probable tbat as no letters have been found between Christmas day, 
1729, and Februaiy 7th, 1730, when Mrs. Pendarves mentioned her aunt's 
hopeless state, that Ann Granville had been in London during her sister's 
dangerous illness, and, that from that time she had her entire confidence. 

^ North End. ' Mrs. Donnellan. * Richmond. 
VOL. I. R 


our variety of works — ^reading, walking, going on the 
water, seeing all the fine places in the neighbourhood, 
gave me a new turn of thinking, shook off the gloom, 
and restored me to my health. But as my spirits had 
not quite recovered their usual vivacity, I readily com- 
plied with a proposal she made in her turn of going with 
her to Ireland to see her friends, her sister being settled 
there in a very splendid and agreeable way. 

I had heard of Herminius's new engagement with 
Julia, and almost as soon of his marriage. As his behaviour 
had given me some disquiet, I thought it best to avoid 
meeting him for some time, but a too great retirement 
from public places would have looked remarkable, which 
determined me to go to Ireland with ray friend Sylvia as 
soon as it was convenient for her to go, but the real reason 
of my going was entirely locked within my ovm heart. 

My friends, who were so good as to consider my health, 
more than the pleasure their partiality made them take 
in my company, thought change of air and the exercise 
of so long a journey might quite establish it, and were 
very well satisfied with my going ; and the latter end of 
that year we put our scheme into execution. I soon re- 
covered my usual strength and cheerfulness, much pleased 
with my expedition. I liked the country extremely, 
met with great civility, and made some friendships tliere 
that have been a great part of the happiness of my 
life since. And this I think is a very proper period to my 
little history, which I fear has not given you tlie enter- 
tainment and satisfaction you expected from it. If it 
has failed in those particulars, I hope it will at least con- 
vince you of the great confidence I have in your friend- 
ship, and how much I am your faithful and devoted 



The particulars here given throw considerable additional light 
upon Lord Baltimore's conduct and probable motives. It 
cannot be doubted that he was in love with Mary Granville, as 
far as he could love anything but himself, and that he was in 
serious earnest when he made his formal and unequivocal 
declaration at the opera on the " Saturday" mentioned ; but it 
is equally apparent that the person he addressed was too anxious 
to ascertain his sincerity to follow the dictates of her inclination 
by accepting him on the spot. She gave time before her 
decision was to be pronounced, and allowed Sunday to intervene 
(as is shown by the previous letter to her sister, though forgotten 
in the lapse of years at which the autobiography was writtfen). 
In those forty-eight hours it is probable that Lord Baltimore, 
instead of verifying his previous protestations by following the 
impulse of his feelings, determined to extricate himself from the 
position in which their unreserved expression had placed him 
on the previous Saturday. His extravagant habits probably 
required a richer wife. He therefore invented a pretext for a 
quarrel, and soon after married Mary, the daughter of Sir 
Theodore Janssen, of Wimbledon, whose family originally came 
from Guelderland. In consequence of political troubles, the 
grandfather of Sir Theodore had sought an asylum in France, 
and left a large fortune. Sir Theodore himself removed into 
England in 1680, and having a considerable estate, was knighted 
by King William III., as during the reign of that monarch, and 
that of Queen Anne, he had shown his zeal for the interests of 
Great Britain, particularly regarding its commercial relations 
with France. After the treaty of Utrecht he was created a 
baronet at the especial "request of the Elector of Hanover (after- 
wards George I.), March 11th, 1714, in which year he was also 
elected for the borough of Yarmouth. He married Williarasa, 
daughter of Sir Robert Henley, of the Grange, in Hampshire. 
Sir Theodore had realized a very large fortune by forty years 
success in trade.^ He died in 1748, aged ninety ; and although 

^ In the account of Mortlage (Mortlake) in the Doomsday Book, reference 
is made to a ferry at Put Nie (Putney) which yielded twenty shillings a year, 

R 2 


he had five sons, the baronetcy became extinct within thirty years 
of his death. 

It will be proper at this period to give some account of the 
Baltimore family, whose representative, in 1731, possessed such 
uncommon powers of attraction, and who exercised so great an 
influence over the affections of Mary Granville for a period of 
five years, before his character appeared in such a light as no 
longer to justify the continuation of her regard. In the earUer 
part of her autobiography she mentions that Lady Stanley was 
(as she then thought) unjustly prejudiced against Lord Balti- 
more, which was a bar to their meeting, as she did not receive 
him* in a morning, in deference to her aunt's wishes. She also 
intimates that Lady Lansdown was always ready to make mis- 
chief between them. These circumstances, together with Lord 
Baltimore's illness and departure from England, account for 
the length of time which elapsed before the declaration took 
place which preceded his desertion, when his character appears 
in so unfavourable a light. 

The Baltimore family was originally Flemish. From Flanders 
they transported themselves into the north of England, and 
Leonard Calvert of Danbywiske, in the county of York, married 
Alicia, daughter of John Crossland, of Crossland, in the same 
county. His son, George Calvert, was secretary to Sir Robert 
Cecil, when Secretary of State. He was afterwards Clerk of the 

Here also, in the time of Earl Harold, was a valuable fishery, the ownership of 
which descended with the manor. In 1663 it was let for an annual rent of 
the three best salmon caught in March, April, and May, which rent Avas after- 
wards commuted for money. Sir Theodore Janssen was the lord of Wimble- 
don in 1717, he was also one of the South Sea Directors, and was one of the 
few whom (though he lost considerably) did not lose his character and was 
not ruined : he sold the above estate, which probably accounts for both 
circumstances, and at that time the fishery was let for 6Z. yearly, which rent 
was increased to 8Z. on a lease which only exi^ired in 1800. Sturgeon was then 
occasionally taken in that part of the Thames, and sometimes, though rarely, 
a porpoise. These were regarded as royal fishes, and claimed by the Lord 
Mayor under a grant from the Crown, the fisherman being obliged to deliver 
them as soon as taken to the water bailiff. — See Lysons^ Surrey, and Blunt''8 
Law Dictionary, 1670. Art. Royal Fishes. 


Privy Council, was knighted in 1617, and was appointed (1618) 
Secretary of State to the king, who employed him in most im- 
portant affairs, and settled in 1620, a pension of 1000^. a year 
upon him besides his salary. Sir George Calvert* changed his 
religion in 1624, and on turning Koman Catholic voluntarily 
resigned his post,^ He was nevertheless continued in the Privy 
Council, and the king having made him large grants of lands in 
Ireland, elevated him to the peerage of that kingdom on the 
16th of February, 1624, and to him Sir George St. George, 
then Norroy, King at Arms, gave the coat the family afterwards 
bore, viz. : Pally of six topaz and diamond, a bend counterchanged, 
crest, in a ducal coronet gold two pennants first topaz the other 
diamond, staves rubies ; with supporters, two leopards gardant 
coward proper. Motto, Fatti maschi parole femine. The Calvert 
arms having previously been Or, six martlets sable. While Secre- 
tary of State, Sir George Calvert had obtained a grant of Avalon 
in Newfoundland, with most extensive privileges ; he expended 
25,000?. upon this settlement, and visited it three times in the 
reign of James I., but being unable longer to contend against the 
French encroachments he was obliged at last to abandon it ; where- 
on he obtained from King Charles I. the patent of Maryland to 

1 We have this list of his works, given by Walpole, in his " Eoyal and 
Noble Authors:" — " Carmen funebre in dom. Hen. Untonum, ad Gallos bis 
legatura, ibique nuper fato functum," 1596, quarto. The Earl of Bristol 
■wrote an elegy on the same occasion. " Speeches in Parliament." " Various 
Letters of State." "The Answer of Tom Telltroth." "The Practice of 
Princes, and Lamentations of the Kirk," 1642, quarto. " Something about 
Maryland" — not printed. 

2 Archbishop Abbot, in a letter to Sir T. Pioe, gives a different account of 
this affair. " Mr. Secretary Calvert," saith the prelate, " hath never looked 
merrily since the prince his coming out of Spain : it was thought that he was 
much interested in the Spanish affaires : a course was taken to rid him of all 
employments and negotiations. This made him discontented ; and as the say- 
ing is, Desperatio facit monachum, so be apparently did turn papist, which he 
now professeth, this being the third time that he hath been to blame that way. 
His Majesty, to dismiss him, suffered him to resign his Secretary's place to Sir 
Albertus Morton, who paid him 3000?. for the same ; and the king hath made 
him Baron of Baltimore, in Ireland : so he is withdrawn from us ; and having 
bought a ship of 400 tons, he is going to New England, or Newfoundland, 
where he hath a colony." — L'oe's Letters^ p. 372. 


him and his heirs for ever, with the same title and royalties as 
in Avalon, paying yearly as acknowledgment to the crown, two 
Indian arrows at Windsor Castle on Easter Tuesday, and the 
fifth part of the gold and silver ore. Lord Baltimore, however, 
died before this grant passed the Great Seal, and his successor 
Cecil, the second Lord Baltimore, had it made out in his own 
name, 20th of June, 1632. The province was named by Charles I., 
Maryland, in honour of his Queen, Henrietta Maria. It was chiefly 
a settlement of Roman Catholics. Cecil married Anne, daughter 
of Thomas, Lord Arundel of Wardour, and was succeeded by his 
son John, who was present in King James II.'s Irish Parliament 
in 1689, and was succeeded by his son Charles, 4th baron, who 
was outlawed for high treason in Ireland, although he had never 
been in that kingdom. King William III. caused the outlawry 
to be reversed in January 1691. He came into possession of the 
manor of Horton and Woodcote near Epsom, under the will of 
Elizabeth, widow of Ricbard Evelyn, Esq., who was brother of 
John Evelyn, the well-known author ; she was daughter and 
heiress of George Mynne, from whom she inherited the manors 
of Horton and Ebbisham (now Epsom), and at her death (s, p.) 
she bequeathed the manor of Epsom to Mr. Parkhurst, a relation 
on her mother's side, and the manor of Horton with the residence 
of Woodcote to Charles, Lord Baltimore, her kinsman on her 
father's side, from the marriage of Sir George Calvert, first Lord 
Baltimore, with Anne, daughter of George Mynne of Herting- 
fordbury, Herts, from whom the Mynnes of Surrey were descended. 
A tablet to Mrs. Evelyn's memory was erected by Charles, 4th 
Lord Baltimore at the east end of the south aisle of Epsom 
church, which bore the following inscription : — 

" M. S. Elizabethse Evelyn relictae Richarrli Evelyn de Woodcott Armigeri 
ex stemmate Mynniano oriimd£e, femina^ tarn pietate quam hospitalitate, 
celeberrimiu, de Ebbisham et do Horton Doniina;. Consanguineaj meritis- 
simaj Carolus Calvert Baro de Baltimore posuit. Obiit anno Christi, astatis 63, 
mensis Jan. 29." 

The old church at Epsom was pulled down in 1824, and, as 
appears to be almost invariably the case under similar circum- 


stances, monuments and inscriptions have disappeared, and this 
among the number. Charles Lord BaUimore died February 
1714-15, and was succeeded by Benedict Leonard, oth baron, who 
having returned to the established church in 1713, was elected 
afterwards for Harwich. He married Lady Charlotte Lee, eldest 
daughter of Edward, 1st Earl of Lichiield, from whom he was 
divorced in 1705, and dying in 1715, he was succeeded by his son 
Charles, 6th baron, born 1699. He was Lord of the Bedchamber 
to Frederic, Prince of NV'ales, and was much in his confidence. 

The following extracts from Lord Hervey and Horace Walpole 
lead to the conclusion, that the 6th Lord Baltimore's character 
was a strange combination of good and evil, and that his opinion 
of his own abilities was very much superior to that expressed of 
him by George 11. 

Lord Hervey relates, in 1735, that Lord Baltimore (who was 
then one of the Lords of the Bedchamber to Frederic, Prince of 
Wales), was employed by that prince to negotiate the parting 
between himself and Miss Vane, and that " Miss Janssen, sister 
to Lord Baltimore's wife (a very dexterous lady)," had been em- 
ployed in the same affair. Also in 1737, in quoting a conver- 
sation about the prince and his advisers, Lord Hervey says, " The 
King went on saying, 'There is my Lord Carnarvon, a hot- 
headed, passionate, half-witted coxcomb, with no more sense 
than his master; there is Townshend, a silent, proud, surly, 
wrong-headed booby ; there is my Lord North, a very good poor 
creature, but a very weak man ; there is my Lord Baltimore, 
who thinks he understands everything, and understands nothing, 
who wants to be well with both courts, and is well at neither ; 
and, entre nous, is a little mad ;' " &c. &c. Although Horace 
Walpole's estimate of Lord Baltimore does not appear on the 
whole to have been favourable, he sums up his character in the 
following words : — " Lord Baltimore is the best and honestest man 
in the world, with a good deal of jumbled knowledge ; but is not 
capable of conducting a party." The word "honest" would 
certainly be misapplied to the circumstances here recorded 
antecedent to his marriage. 


Lord Baltimore represented the county of Surrey for some 
time, and in 1734 he was elected for St. Germains, in Cornwall ; 
in 1736 he was constituted Warden of the Stannaries ; in 1740 
Steward of the Manor of Kennington, in Surrey ; in 1741 Com- 
missioner of the Admiralty ; which he resigned in 1745, and was 
made Cofferer of the Household to the Prince of Wales, and 
Surveyor-General of the Duchy Lands in Cornwall. His principal 
residence was at Woodcote, in the county of Surrey, one mile 
from Epsom, his London residence was Rosslyn House, corner of 
Russell Square and Guildford Street. He died the 24th of April, 
1751, having married, as before stated, the 20th of July, 1730, 
Mary, daughter of Sir Theodore Janssen, Bart., who died at 
Chaillot, near Paris, 25th of March, 1770. 

It is recorded that Benedict Leonard, brother of Charles, 6th 
baron, M. P. for Harwich, and^goveriior oF^Maryland, died on 
his passage home the 1st of June, 1732 ; Edward Henry, the 
third brother, was appointed Commissary-General and President 
of the Council of Maryland. The date and place of his death 
does not appear, but his widow married, in 1741, James Fitz- 
gerald, Esq. There was also a fourth brother, Cecil, a twin with 
Charlotte, born November 1702. Charlotte married Thomas 
Brerewood, Esq., and Jane married John Hyde, Esq. of Kingston 
Lisle in Berkshire, a fact which is neither recorded by Nicholl nor 
Burke, although the latter mentions the marriage of Charlotte 
to Mr. Brerewood. There is little doubt that the husband of 
Charlotte Calvert was Thomas, the grandson of Sir Robert 
Brerewood of Place House, Horton, near Windsor ; while the 
husband of Jane Calvert (the early friend of Mary Granville) 
was John Hyde, of the family of Hyde of Dench worth and 
Kingston-Lisle, Berkshire. She was buried in the ancient 
Chapter House of Westminster Abbe}', under a stone upon 
which was the following inscription : — 

" The Hon, Jane Hyde, daughter of Benedict, Lord Baltimore, by Charlotte, 
daughter of the Earl of Litchfield, and relict of John Hyde, of Kingston-Lysle, 
in Berkshire. Died the 15th of July, 1778, aged 74." 

The editor has as yet only been able to trace one of the 


descendants of Jane Hyde, viz. Katherine, who is mentioned in 
"Burke's Commoners" as the daughter of Colonel Hyde, and 
OT;and-daughter_ of Lord Baltimore, and who married Thomas, 
the son of Henry Willis, whose son was John Willis Fleming, 
of Stoneham Park, Hampshire. That the above Katherine was 
a younger child of Jane Hyde, is proved by the will of Charles, 
6th Lord Baltimore, who left 1000^. to Mary, Jane, Philip, 
and Katherine, the younger children of his sister, Jane Hyda 
Barbara, the youngest child of Benedict Leonard, Lord Balti- 
more, bom November, 1704, died in infancy. Charles, 6th^ 
Lord Baltimore, was succeeded by his son, Frederic, 7th 
baron. Bom loth February, 1732, to whom His Royal High- 
ness the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Richmond were 
godfathers, and the Princess Royal godmother. He married in 
1753, Lady Diana Egerton (daughter of Scroop, Duke of Bridge- 
water), who died 18th August, 1758. It appears that this 
nobleman did not do any credit to his royal sponsors or his 
noble lineage. After the death of Lady Diana he acquired an 
unhappy celebrity, and was the subject of a trial about a 
Quakeress, in 1768 ; but although he was acquitted, he sold his 
estate of Woodcote, and left the country soon afterwards. He 
published a "Tour to the East," in 1763 and 1764, with 
" Remarks on the City of Constantinople and the Turks ;" also, 
" Select Pieces of Oriental Wit, Poetry, and Wisdom,^' in the 
preface to which he says that " every traveller is singular in his 
observations, all men not having the same genius. He was 
brought up at Eton, and wrote these journals for his own 
private amusement. He is included by Walpole in his " Royal 
and Noble Authors," who remarks that these " Travels" prove 
a well-known truth, that " a man may travel without observa- 
tion, and be an author without ideas." 

Frederic, the last Lord Baltimore died at Naples the 4th Sep- 
tember, 1771. His will was written in Italian and English. 
His remains were brought to England, and interred in Epsom 
church with great pomp, the cavalcade extending from the 
church to the eastern extremity of Epsom. He left two sisters, 


Caroline, married to Robert Eden, Esq., and Louisa married a 
member of the Browning family : she resided at Horton Lodge, 
on part of the Horton manor, left to her by her father, the 6th 
lord. The manor of Horton with Woodcote,^ was purchased 
by Mr. Monk, and resold four times, the last purchaser being 
Lewis Tessier, Esq., a merchant of London, who died 181 J. It 
then became the property of his son, the Baron de Tessier, to 
whom that title was granted by Louis XVIII. in 1819, as the 
lineal descendant of Tessier, Baron de Marguerites, and Mar- 
quis de La Game, in Languedoc. It is now (1860) the pro- 
perty and residence of Mr. Brooks, M.P. for Weymouth. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OrantnUe. 

Pall Mall, 4th April, 1730. 

Your last was more than commonlv welcome, because it 
brought me the good news of my mother's being 
perfectly well. I heartily wish she may continue so, 
and that this fine weather will tempt her to use exercise. 
Dr. HoUins says if people would be convinced of the 
real service exercise and hartshorn would do them, they 
would not so much neglect such easy medicines : he 
prescribes two or three hundred drops to be taken in a day. 
Pray what makes your neighbour disagreeable? Is it 
matrimony has had that effect ? I suspect it ; in short, 
my conduct will be justified, for had I married, by this 
time I had been good for nothing. I honour Primitive 
Xtxanity^ and desire you will let him know as much 
when next you see him. Children and cards are amuse- 

^ Woodcote. Piobert Talbot, Doctor Gale and Iforsley, snppcise the station 
round Novio Magus to have been situated at or near Woodcote, or Woodcote 
Warren, where foundations of old buildings, Eoman coins, urns, and bricks, 
have been discovered. — Brayley's JHstory of Surrey, vol. i. 

* Probably a nickname. 


ments pretty much alike ; ttey are what you oftener lose 
than gain by. I will tell Mrs. Badge what my mama 
desires me, but I fear it will be to no purpose, for my Lord 
Arran has settled the payments for every half year, and 
will not alter them. 

I think Sophonisba^ much superior to Timoleon, for 
that play has nothing tolerable in the language but what 
is said by Timoleon, and the poet owes all his sentiments 
to Plutarch's life of that hero. Sophonisba is a character 
that can never be made agreeable ; that extravagance of 
love for her country, had it been softened by a little 
tenderness, wo'uld have been more moving ; and had she 
loved Massinissa, I should have esteemed her a worthier 
woman ; but, as it is, I have no manner of compassion 
for her, and am only pleased with Scipio's character, and 
have a little pity for Massinissa. The language is sublime, 
and I think excels any play we have had a great 

This afternoon I expect Mrs. Donnellan. We are to 
settle our rural ramble, and believe we shall set forward 
on Wednesday. Her cough is still very bad, and she 
has been confined to her house ever since her sister went. 
She hopes that " dear Miss Granville, who so well knows 

1 Sophonisba, a tragedy by James Thomson, was perfonned in London in the 
year 1729. The original cast of the characters was, Massinissa, Mr. Wilka ; 
Syphax, Mr. Mills ; Narva, Mr. Roberts ; Scipio, Mr. Williams ; Lselius, Mr. 
Bridgewater ; Sophonisba, Mrs. Oldfield ; Phcpnissa, Mrs. Roberts. This 
tragedy was soon afterwards printed and published with a dedication to Queen 
Caroline, who had honoured its representation with her especial patronage. 
See Murdoch's Complete Edition of Thomson's Works, in 4 vols., 12mo. 
Millar, 1766. Thomson's Tragedy of " Sophonisba" was first brought out in 
1727. Dr. Johnson relates, in his life of that poet, that " Sophonisba raised 
such exj)ectations, that every rehearsal was dignified with a splendid audience, 
collected to anticipate the delight that was preparing for the public." To one 
of these rehearsals Mrs. Pendarves alludes in 1726. 


the sorrow that attends parting friends, will excuse 
her omitting so long answering the most obliging, 
agreeable letter that ever was received ; she is a very bad 
scribe (she says), but will, as soon as she has spirits 
enough, make her own apology." You chide me for not 
saying enough of myself. Why, generally I gorge you 
with the subject. As for my countenance, I cannot say 
much in its commendation ; it is somewhat thinner and 
paler than usual, and my complexion is altered, but I can 
give myself the air of saying it is " owing to my fever ,•" 
though alas ! thirty years is enough to wear off bloom, and 
I must submit to be tarnished by tim^. The richest 
metal endures the same, but to those that understand 
the right use of life, it is not now of less value ! May 
that be my lot ! and / believe it will : I eat heartily, and 
I sleep and divert myself as much as I am able. I have 
not seen Piggy since I came to town, but I have been to 
blame, but have not been able to help it. 

Last Thursday I went to the ridotto. I was engaged 
to go with my cousins Graham and Granville, and my Lady 
Lansdown being of the party, I shuffled me off, and was 
resolved to go, though it was with some difficulty ;^ and 
that she might not think me destitute of company, I got 
one of the Bramstons.^ The hour it begins is nine ; polite 

'' * It appears that Mrs. Pendarves put a force upon herself, and determined to 
appear in public at the ridotto on hearing that Lady Lansdown was to be 
there, lest she should attribute her absence to its real cause, viz., her sufferings 
in consequence of the breach with Lord Baltimore. 

' The connection of the Bramston family with the Carterets (subsequent to 
the date of this letter), was iu consequence of the widow of Thynne Worsley, 
brother of Frances, first wife of Lord Carteret, having married Edmund Bram- 
ston, gentleman-usher to the Princess Dowager of Wales, a descendant of Sir 
John Bramston, Chief Justice of England in 1635, whose wife's grandmother, 
Elizabeth, was the twentieth daughter of Sir William Loch, Lord Mayor of 


company does not come till eleven : I was between both, 
and went at ten. The room is set out in the same manner 
as for the masquerade ; it is the most entertaining sort 
of assembly, because you are at liberty to wander about 
as much as you please, and there is dancing, tea, coffee, 
chocolate, and all sorts of sweetmeats. Most of the 
ladies were in great distress for partners, for the great- 
est part of the clever men are gone to Newmarket. I 
did not think of dancing ; but my cousin Graham, with 
something more of civility than his mother-in-law,^ told 
me he had reserved himself for me, and I could not resist 
the temptation. An Irish lord, whose name 1 have forgot, 
danced with Miss Granville, and Sir Richard Mead, an 
Irish baronet, danced with Mrs. Graham.'* There was a 
prodigious crowd, they danced till half an hour after one. 
How can you suppose that music and I are foes ! 
No ; I love it as well as ever, but don't meet with 
it so much as I could wish. Operas are dying, to 
my great mortification. Yesterday I was at the re- 
hearsal of a new one ; it is composed of several songs 
out of Italian operas ; but it is very heavy to Mr. 
Handel's. Mrs. Donnellan has not sung a great while, for 
fear of straining her lungs. Mrs. Clayton got very well 
as far as Lancashire ; they have not heard but once. If 
my brother made all your compliments to my Lord 
Lansdowne, I think it is sufficient. Poor Lady Betty 
Lee^ is very much to be pitied, for she is left with three 

' " His motJier-in-law" was Lady Lansdown. 

2 It appears that at this period it was the custom for ladies to be engaged to | 
the same partner to dance the whole evening. 

' Lady Betty Lee, daughter of the Earl of Lichfield, aunt of Lord Baltimore 
and ^\adow of Colonel Lee, was married in 1731 to Dr. Edward Young, author 
of the " Night Thoughts." 


children to maintain, and not a farthing to support her. 
I am really very sorry for her. Mr. Yate^ sent here to- 
day to know if I had any commands to Gloucester ; had 
he called, perhaps I had honoured him with a commission. 
The book tells you how to polish your work. I have 
not polished any yet ; when I do it will be by book. 
What have you done with my poor stools? I shall 
bring work down with me, I promise you, for I intend 
not to be idle. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne Granville. 

Richmond, 26 April, 1730. 

I find it is in vain for me to disguise any of my 
actions, since you have such exact intelligence. You may 
hear of private walks, two struggling damsels losing 
their way in a wood, but what of all this ? Our shepherds 
being creatures of consequence were obliged to quit us and 
our rural pleasures for the city, where nothing reigns but 
noise and impertinence, and we have not heard of them 
since they went away on Tuesday morning. Never did 
people live with more tranquillity ; we enjoy everything 
in perfection without hurry or trouble. Last Wednesday 
we went by water to Bushy Park, which is the sweetest 
place I ever beheld. Such charming fine spreading trees 
with banks of turf round them, to invite you to partake 
of their shade, canals in several forms, cascades, and turf 
that always looks verdant. How often have I wished for 

' Walter Yate, Esq., of Hook House, in the parish of BromesVarrow, 
Gloucestershire, and lieutenant-colonel of the county militia. He married 
Elizabeth, daughter of Charles Dowdeswell, Esq., of Forthampton Court, and 
had two children who died young. Colonel Yate died 12th December, 1744. 


you since my being here ! Sometimes we walk out with- 
out design of going to any particular place, and never 
fail of discovering some new agreeable prospect. The 
day before yesterday we went to see the remains of the 
Clarendon Gardens and the woods my mother remem- 
bers so flourishing ; it would make her melancholy were 
she to see it now ! Nothing is left of the house but a 
few walls that the fire spared ; the gardens are pretty, in 
the old taste. The most refined pleasures are of the 
shortest duration ; for, alas ! all these delightful places we 
must leave I doubt on Monday or Tuesday ; for Mr. 
Wesley ^ has desired Miss Donellan to go with him 
and his lady to the Spaw. They are to be in London 
the 2nd of May, and intend setting forward on their 
journey in a fortnight after. This hastens our going to 

I believe my brother Granville will be in London the 
latter end of next week. 

The Bishop of Killala is now waiting at Chester to 
go back in the yatch that brings my Lord Lieutenant 
over. I suppose my cousin Graham will be preparing 
for Hibernia, he seemed determined to go the beginning 
of May. The next letter you receive from me will be 
dated from Pall Mall. 

Before I conclude I must set you right in an error 
that you have committed. You give me Celadon and 

1 Richard CoUey, Esq., second son of Henry Colley, Esq., of Castle Carbery, 
by Mary, only daughter of Sir William Usher, succeeded, 23rd Sept. 1728, to 
the estates of his cousin, Garrett ^Yesley, Esq., of Dangan, county Meath, 
and assumed the name and arms of Wesley, and was created Baron of 
Moruington, 9th July, 1746. He married, 23rd Dec. 1719, Elizabeth, 
eldest daughter of John Sale, LL.D., and died 31st January, 1758, being suc- 
ceeded by his only son Garrett, who was created Viscount Wellesley and Earl 
of Mornington, 20th October, 1760. 


Hylas to Sylvia (so is my friendly shepherdess called) ; 
it is just the reverse, I declare myself for Hylas. 

I doubt you will think this letter very circum floribus. 

The recollections of Mary Granville and her mother, of the 
Clarendon Gardens in their beauty, as alluded to in this letter, 
were of course prior to 1715, when the Granville family left London 
on account of political troubles. Hyde the Earl of Rochester 
of that day was the father of the celebrated Duchess of Queens- 
bury, so often alluded to in these letters, the cousin of Mary 
Granville, and of whom she saw so much in her early childhood as 
well as in later life. It appears from Walpole's correspondence 
that Queen Anne had bestowed the rangership of Richmond New 
Park on her relations, the Hydes, for three lives, one of which was 
expired. King George, fond of shooting, bought out the term of 
the last Earl of Clarendon and his son Lord Combury for 5000?. 
and frequently shot there. 

The park had run to great decay under the Hydes. The Earl 
of Rochester, who succeeded, 1723, to the title of Clarendon, on 
the extinction of the elder branch, had a villa close outside the 
park, which was burnt down in 1721, and only one wing left. 
W. Stanhope, 1st Earl of Harrington, who died, 1756, purchased 
the ruins and built the house since bought by Lord Camelford, 
from whom it was bought in 1790, by William IV., then Duke of 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

Northend, 19th May, 1730. 

Nothing can be more beautiful than this garden is at 
present, and what endears it more to me, is the remem- 
brance of having walked over it with you. Every tree you 
liked is a favourite, particularly the oranges ; had you 


taken a fancy to the nettles, I verily believe I should 
have preferred them to jessamine. I came here last 
Saturday, as I writ yoii word I intended. Sir John is 
very kind, desires me to make his compliments, and is 
very much obliged to mama for the lampre^^s. Our 
friends at Gloucester are always remembered in the grace 
cup. I left Mrs. Viney in town as busy as a bee. I 
was very sorry I could not have more of her company, 
but Sir John had sent for me so often that I was afraid 
he would take it ill of me, and I had promised him to 
stay this month at Northend with him. I design to go to 
town to see Mrs. Viney before she leaves it, and am then 
to return to Northend till I can contrive to go further. 

Mrs. Donnellan would have been glad to have had a 
letter from you before she went. When I write to her I 
will make your compliments, but I shall not see her, for 
she goes on Thursday next. 

You have your w4sh : the birds, the breezes, and all 
things conspire to make this place the seat of pleasure 
and delight, but wanting you I can't enjoy them in per- 
fection, and prefer a certain old mansion dark and gloomy 
to this house, finished with the utmost art ; and the 
twirling of that malt mill ' has more charms for me than 
all the nightingales that are now singing near my 
window. When I see Bellenden I will tell your odd 
piece of news : strange indeed that a brisk widow with 
seven thousand pounds hard money, should take a lawyer 
that has nothing at all ; but I hear the report is false. 
Ned Stanley'^ is soon to be married to a Miss Ward, a rich 

* Alluding to a mill in the neighbouriiood of her mother's house, at 
2 " Ned Stanley" afterwards Sir Edward Stanley. 
VOL. I. 8 


bookseller's daughter : he is so diligent in his attendance 
on his mistress, that there is no getting at him. 

On Saturday morning Mrs. Monck was brought to 
bed of a daughter. Sunday evening Sir Eobert Sutton 
and his lady made us a visit here. Sir Bob looks very ill, 
he has had a very severe fit of the gout. Yesterday 
morning Mr. Edgcumbe^ did himself the honour to wait 
upon me : he was mightily pleased with this place. Sir 
John has been very much out of order these three or 
four days ; it is, I doubt, a return of his fever. When I 
do come among you, I hope to find you all in perfect 
health and well supplied with spirits, for I do want a 
recruit, though God forbid I should take from you to 
make up my own defects ! I don't believe my spirits are 
exhausted, they only lie dormant and they will revive 
at your irresi stable call ; I shall give myself over for a 
lost thing, if that does not do. Considering I am not in 
a place of great variety, I think I have now behaved 
myself handsomely, and if my speeches when I come to 
you are in proportion as long as my letters, you'll say 
"when will the eternal 'laruin cease?" 

* Edgcumbe, of Mount Edgcumbe, in the parish of Cheriton Fitz Payne, 
Devonshire, related by marriage to most of the old families of the western 
counties. Piers Edgcumbe, Esq., married Mary, daughter of Sir John Glan- 
vil, of Broad Hinton, Wiltshire. 'I'heir eldest daughter married Sir 
Throckmorton, Bart., of Totworth, Gloucestershire ; the youngest married 
Thomas, 1st Earl of Coventry. Sir Richard Edgcumbe, Knight of the Bath, 
eldest son of Piers Edgcumbe, and like him a zealous royalist, married the 
Lady Anne Montagu, daughter of Edward, Earl of Sandwich. Sir Richard 
died in 1688. His widow survived him until 1729. Their son Richard, 1st 
Lord Mount Edgcumbe, and their five daughters, were contemporaries and 
associates of Mary Granville during the early part of her life. Mr. (afterwards 
Lord Mount) Edgcumbe was member for Cornwall in the time of King 
William, and he sat for other places during the remainder of that reign and 
iu the beginning of Queen Anne. 


From the allusions in this letter to her sister's favourite trees at 
Northend, it would appear that they had been there together 
within a recent period, and as no letter has been found with an 
announcement of Lady Stanley's death, it is probable that Ann 
Granville was in London at that time, and the cessation of corre- 
spondence from the 7th of February to the 4th of April, confirms 
this supposition. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranviUe. 

Northend, 27th May, 1730. 

Once more I must write to my dearest sister from this 
enchanting place. This afternoon I go to town to pack 
up some things I am to send by the carrier to a certain 
place called Gloucester. Sir John will be in town on 
Sunday ; his holiday will be then expired, and he must 
return to his drudgery — such is the Custom-house : 
indeed, I pity him, notwithstanding the income of that 
place, to be forced to leave this delightful retreat that he 
has 30 much reason to doat on as he does. To a man of 
genius and contemplation nothing can be more suitable. 
Sometimes he is obliged to undergo the inconvenience 
you complain of, of an inundation of people breaking in 
on his soliloquies, but that, in my opinion, only serves 
to heighten the pleasure of the place when they are gone. 

Without a little pain now and then, the happiness of 
ease would not be so much known ; in short, we must 
submit to cloudy weather sometimes, and not grumble. 
We have reason to be thankful that the sun ever shines 
when we consider what noxious vapours the world 
produces to interpose between us and his brightness. 
You'll say I have chosen hard terms ; but you must know 
T have lately conversed, by the help of inimitable Fonte- 

s 2 


nelle, with the planets ; nothing ever was so delightfully 
entertaining as well as instructive as his Plurality of 
Worlds. What a charming place is the moon ! but 
although I have formed a very advantageous idea of that 
agreeable planet, I shall not envy its inhabitants when I 
am with mi/ star, — that presides over all my actions, 
and influences me to virtue. When do you think will 
that be ? Why, on the — of next month. Ned Stanley 
dined here to-day for the first time since his time of 
courtship began. It sits very easy upon him, and well 
it may, for they say his mistress will be worth fourteen 
thousand pounds. I am very glad of it. I think him 
an honest man, and not likely to increase his fortune by 
the common tricks of the law. I am to sup with Mrs. 
Bellenden to-night, and I hope on Tuesday night to do 
the same with my dearest mama and sister ; for on 
Monday morning the first day of June (God willing) I 
will embark for the Cape of Good Hope. It is with 
some difficulty that I have kept this piece of news so 
long a secret. I have intended it about a fortnight ; but 
so many things happen between the cup and the lip that 
I would not venture to write till I was sure of it. 

Mrs. Pendarves's visit to her mother is here announced as in- 
tended to take place 1st of June, and the correepondence ceases 
with her sister after this letter (27th of May, 1730) for five months. 

The following letter is endorsed in Mrs. Granville's hand- 
writing, " Account of Mrs. Elstob's letter — showed to the Queen,'' 
and in another hand, *' History of poor Miss Andrews." It is 
evident that the history of Miss Andrews, though on a separate 
slieet of paper, was written by Mrs. Pendarves at the same time. 
The date, at the commencement of the first sheet, is 15th Oct. 
1730. It may here be desirable to give some particulars of Mrs. 

OF MRS. dp:lany. 261 

Elstob whose case excited so much sympatliy un the part of Queen 
Caroline, and which appeared in the 2nd edition of the Bio- 
graphia Britannica, 1798. 

Elizabeth Elstob was born at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, in 1683. 
She was the sister of William Elstob, a divine and antiquary, who 
was appointed rector of the united parishes of St. Swithin and St. 
Mary Bothaw, London, where he continued to his death. This 
appears to be the only ecclesiastical preferment he ever obtained. 
He was a celebrated Anglo-Saxon scholar. The most considerable 
of his designs was an edition of the Saxon Laws, with great 
additions, and a new Latin Version by Somner, together with 
notes of various learned men, and a Prefatory History of the 
Origin and Progress of the English Laws, down to the Conqueror 
and to Magna Charta. This great plan was completed in 1721, 
by Dr. David Wilkins. It is said that his sister, Elizabeth Elstob, 
owed the rudiments of her extraordinary education to her mother : 
of which advantage, however, she was soon deprived, for at the 
age of eight years, she had the misfortune of losing her. Her 
guardians, who entertained different sentiments, discouraged, as 
much as they were able, her progress in literature, as improper for 
her sex, but their efforts were to no purpose, for she had con- 
tracted too great a fondness for literary studies to be diverted 
from the prosecution of them. During her brother's continuance 
at Oxford, she appears to have resided in that city, where she was 
esteemed and respected by Dr. Hudson and other Oxonians. Upon 
her brother's removal to London, she probably removed with him, 
and it is certain that she assisted him in his antiquarian under- 
takings. The first public proof which she gave of it was in 1709, 
when, upon Mr. Elstob's printing the Homily on St. Gregory's 
Day, she added an English translation : the preface, also, was written 
by her, in which she answers the objections made to female learn- 
ing, by producing " that glory of her sex,'^ as she calls her, Mrs. 
Anna Maria Schurman. Mrs. Elstob's next publication was a trans- 
lation of ]\Iadame Scudery's Essay on Glory. She assisted, also, 
her brother in an edition of Gregory's Pastoral, which was pro- 
bably intended to have included both the original and Saxon ver- 


sion, and she transcribed all the hymns from an ancient manuscript 
in Salisbury cathedral. By the encouragement of Dr. Hickes, she 
undertook a Saxon Horailiarum, with an English translation, notes, 
and various readings. To promote this design, Mr. Bowyer 
printed for her, in 1713, " Some Testimonies of Learned Men in 
favour of the intended Edition of the Saxon Homilies, concerning 
the learning of the Author of those Homilies, and the Advantages 
to be hoped for from an Edition of them. (In a letter from the 
Publisher to a Doctor in Divinity.)" About the same time she 
wrote three Letters to the Lord Treasurer, from which it appears 
that he solicited and obtained for her Queen Anne's bounty, a sum 
towards printing the Homilies in question. Her Majesty's decease 
soon deprived Mrs. Elstob of this benefit, and she was not other- 
wise patronized so as to be able to complete the work. A few 
only of the Homilies were actually printed at Oxford, in folio, 
and Mrs. Elstob's portrait was given in the mitial of " The English 
Saxon Homily on the Birthday of St. George." In 1715 she 
published a Saxon Grammar, the types for wliich had been cut at 
the expense of the Lord Chief Justice Parker, afterwards Earl of 
Macclesfield. Mrs. Elstob had other literary designs in view, but 
was prevented from the prosecution of them by her distressed cir- 
cumstances and the want of due encouragement. After her bro- 
ther's death she was so far reduced that she was obliged to retire 
to Evesham in Worcestershire, where she subsisted witli difficulty, 
by keeping a small school. In this situation she experienced the 
friendship of Mr. George Ballard and of Mrs. Capon, wife of the 
P,cv. Mr. Capon, who kept a school at Stanton, in Gloucestershire. 
These worthy persons exerted themselves among their acquaint- 
ance, to obtain for Mrs. Elstob some annual provision ; and at 
length she was recommended to Queen Caroline, who granted her 
a pension of twenty guineas a year."^ Mr. Rowe Moses de- 
scribes her as having been " the undefessa comes of her brother's 
studies, and a female student of the University, and as having 

1 " Tiventy guineas a year.^^ According to the letter of Mrs. Pendarves this 
appears to have been a mistalsc, as she says that Queen Caroline gave 100^. 
and desired her to apply again when in need ! 


originally possessed a genteel fortune," which, " by pursuing too 
much the drug called learning, she did not know how to manage." 
In the Catalogue of the London Library there are two works of 
Mrs. Elstob's, viz. " Elizabeth Elstob's English Saxon Homily on 
the Birthday of St. Gregory — London, 1709;" and " Rudiments 
of Grammar for the English Saxon Tongue, 4to., 1715." 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Upper Brook Street, 15th Oct. 1730. 

My last letter, my dearest sister, was so short and 
hasty, that I cannot do less than try to tire you for it 
now. T came to town last night with Sir John, and 
found yours and my brother's letters, for which my best 
thanks attend you. Considering the bustle you have 
been in in removing, you have been very good to me ; 
but that's a point you never fail in. I was diverted at 
your different occupations in packing up, and hope all 
got safe to Dowdeswell, where I wish I could see how you 
all look after your fatigue. I told you in my last I had 
left Sally's letter with Mrs. Pointz. She gave it her 
liusband, who desired the Duke to read it to tlie Queen. 
The Queen was so touched with the letter that she 
immediately sent for Mrs. Pointz, to inquire into some 
more particulars about the person mentioned in it, and 
the person that wrote it. Mrs. Pointz said she knew no 
more than what the letter told, but that Mrs. Chapon^ 
was a friend of ours. The Queen said she never in her 
life read a better letter, that it had touched her heart, 
and ordered immediately an hundred pounds for Mrs. 

1 Mrs. Chapmi. It appears that Sarah Kirkham, Mary Granville's early 
playfellow, afterwards Mrs. Capon (Chapon), wrote the letter in favour of Mrs. 
Elstob which produced such an effect upon Queen Caroline. Throughout 


Elstob, and said she " need never fear a necessitous old 
age whilst she lived, and that when she wanted more to 
ask for it, and she should have it." I think this was 
acting like a queen, and ought to be known, though 
she ordered that it should not be spoken of, because she 
has many demands of this kind that it is not possible for 
her to satisfy. Mr. and Mrs. Pointz have showed so much 
pleasure and readiness in doing this thing, that if they 
had no other merit I must always love them for it, as I 
am sure you will. I hope this may be a means of serving 
our friend Sally, her letter was the whole discourse of 
the drawing-room. The Queen asked the Duke " when 
he should be able to write such a letter." He answered, 
honestly, " never. ^' Mr. Pointz has asked me many parti- 
culars about Mr. Chapon, and I did him justice. Mr. 
Pointz is so well pleased with my account that he says 
we shall not rest till he sends him a scholar that may 
make his fortune ; I gave Mrs. Chapon an account of my 
happy success last post. 

I had a letter last night from Miss Betty Winnington, 
with a melancholy account of poor Mrs. Griffiths ; her 
husband lay then a-dying. I have wrote to know how 
the poor woman designs to dispose of her daughters, that 
if it lies in my power any way to serve them I may. I 
am sure you will not forget your design of getting some- 
thing for your god-daughter at the Hereford collection. 
Mr. Wyndham's steward has just been with me ; he says 
there is two year and a half to come, and he will let my 

Mary Granville's autobiography and corres^wndence she has repeatedly allndcd 
to the talents of Sarah Kirkham, whose letters would have been a most valu- 
able addition to this work. It is possible that some of them may still l)e pre- 
served in collections as yet unknown to the editor, but she is only as yet 
aware of a great number having been burned accidentally. 


brother have it (the house). I did not make a positive 
bargain, because I could not tell whether my brother 
would take it for so long. If he takes it only for a year 
he can't have it under thirty-five pounds : it is certainly 
cheap and convenient ; the grate in the kitchen is Mr. 
Wyndham's, which he must buy if he will have it ; if he 
determines to take it, desire him to write to Mr. Edwards 
in Great Dean's Yard, Westminster, to say he agrees to 
give so much for it, the time he takes it from, and the 
time he takes it for, and the house will be ready for his 
use immediately if he pleases. Mr. Edwards knows my 
name, and that I am his sister ; if he does not care for 
this trouble, let him bid me do it, and I will obey him. 
The soot^ is incomparable ; a thousand thanks for your 
care about it, pray let it be sent the first opportunity, and 
many thanks for the lamperns. I was this morning at 
Furbers, and you shall have sent by the coach on Monday 
next (directed for my brother to be left at Cold Comfort) 
all the garden things you wanted. I hope they will flou- 
rish and do well with you. 

I go next Monday to Bulstrode : I grieve for you that 
Bunny is hurried from you to his odious q", a letter went 
to him last post to that purpose, I suppose ; but I hope 
he need not stay long there. My brother strangely mis- 
took when he read puppy for pussy ; pray make him read 
my letter over again. I meant to say that Sir John had 
two black kittens for him to choose out of. I think he 
bespoke one for Betty Carter. I hope mama had my 
letter ; but by your not mentioning it, I am afraid she 
had it not ; but I beg she will not give herself any pain 

1 " The soot " was probably some preparation of soot for the Japan work 
then becominL!; so fashionable. 


about answering it, since she has so good a secretary. I 
am glad you have still got Miss Graves with you. My 
kind compliments to her, and keep her as long as you can. 
I have not seen Colly^ a great while, but will call on her 
before I go to Bulstrode. I am going to get ribbons, 
gloves, and some more frippery things for my journey ; if 
I have time when I return, I will fill this sheet of paper. 
On Saturday I dine at Barn Elms with Mr. and Mrs. 
Pointz. Good-night, I have jolted all over the City, and 
am so tired I can only say I am, with the utmost affection 
and fidelity, 

Yours, M. P. 

Mrs. Pendarves mentions in this letter, that she was going to 
Bulstrode, and as a period again occurs from this date of 15th 
of October, 1730, to May 27th, 1731, (seven months), without 
any letter to her mother or sister, it may be inferred that they were 
together in London and at North End. 

Account of Miss Andrews. 
In Mrs. Pendarves s handwritiyig. 

I believe you have not heard of the death of Miss 
Andrews. She died last November, and after all the 
malice of the world, was an innocent, virtuous creature. 
She was pretty, you know, and much liked, for which 
some women were spiteful. 

About four years ago the Prince saw her walking in 
St. James's Park, inquired who she was, addressed her, 
and made her large offers, but she rejected him with 
contempt. When he found he could neither touch her 
heart nor tempt her vanity, he desisted. Two years 
after that, at a masquerade, a woman came up to him, 

1 " Co%," Miss Catherine Collingwood. 


and called him " my Lord Gruildford," upon whicli the 
Prince thought he should have some diversion by dis- 
covering an intrigue of my Lord Guildford's ; so he 
resolved to deceive her, and answered to the name. She 
told him she had a message from Miss Andrews to 
entreat him to speak to the Prince in her behalf, and to 
let him know the misfortunes she was reduced to ; that 
she was that instant going to be dragged to a spunging 
house ; that her relations and friends denied their 
assistance because she had turned Protestant ; that she 
had wrote to the Archbishops of York and Canterbury, 
and to my Lord Chancellor, to let them know her case, 
but they hud taken no notice of her letter, and that she 
humbly hoped the Prince would have the goodness to 
represent her case to the Queen. The Prince promised 
the mask that he would punctually observe her com- 
mands ; and so they parted. The pleasures of the 
masquerade hurried this affair out of the Prince's head 
till about a fortnight after, when he received a letter to tell 
him that my Lord Guildford had been desired to speak to 
him in behalf of Miss Andrews, who was actually in a 
spunging-house somewhere in Fleet Ditch. The Prince 
was struck to the heart (for he is both generous and 
good-natured) at his having been so neglectful of this 
poor young woman. He disguised himself, took only 
Mr. Cornwallis in a hackney-coach, and went to the 
spunging-house. He enquired if such a person was 
there, naming Miss Andrews, and found it too true. 
The moment he came into the room he dismissed all the 
people. She recollected him, notwithstanding his dis- 
guise, and fainted away. As soon as she recovered, the 
Prince told her he was not come to take any advantage 


of lier misfortunes, but to assist her to the best of his 
power. He gave her two hundred pounds, and said he 
would send her more next day, but that he would not 
visit her again, for should it come to be known, it might 
do her an injury. She threw herself at his feet, and was 
not able to spake a word. He was much moved and did 
not stay long. The next morning he sent her three 
hundred pounds more. 

Last February, at a masquerade, the Prince was walk- 
ing with Miss Peering, and a mask followed her very 
close. When she quitted the Prince he came up to her, 
said he had a favour to beg of her if she would give him 
leave to say a word or two out of the hearing of anybody. 
They sat down on a bench, and he asked her who that 
was she had been walking with ? She told him she did 
not know. He said he thought it had been the Prince ; 
and if it had, he would have desired her to deliver a mes- 
sage to him from one Miss Andrews that was now dead ; 
but on her death-bed (last November) he said she sent for 
me, and charged me to find out some means of letting the 
Prince know she prayed for him with her last breath for 
his extraordinary goodness and generosity, for he had 
saved her from the greatest misery, and " she hoped God 
would prosper him and all that belonged to him. She 
died as SDon as she pronounced these words, and with her 
all that was valuable in life to me," which words the 
mask spoke in an agony of grief. 

The next morning Mrs. Deering told this message to 
the Princesses as she was dressing them, (for the Prince 
had left the ball-room the night before, so that she could 
not meet with him again at dinner) . The Prince always 
dines with them; and when told what the mask had 


said to her, he burst into tears, and told the story 
as I have related to you, and said he loved her 
memory, and though she had treated him with the 
utmost scorn and contempt, he could not help admiring 
her virtue. I think this ought to be known in honour 
to the Prince of Wales, though it was told me not to pub- 
lish it. You may depend on the truth of it, for / had it 
from Mrs Deering, and was extremely touchd at the re- 
lation. I only wish I could have transcribed it as I 
heard it. 

An interval here occurs of seven months in the corre- 
pondence of Mrs. Pendarves with her sister, Ann Granville, which 
period was probably spent with her family, and during which 
tlie following letter from John Wesley was written to Mrs- 

tTohn We^cy to Mrs. Granville, at Great Brkkldll, near Stony Stratford. 

Line. Coll. December 12th, 1730. 


Were it possible for me to repay my part of that 
debt w""^' I can't but be sensible is still growing upon 
me, your goodness would give me a still greater plea- 
sure then I have yet experienced from it. To be the 
instrument of some advantage to a person from whom I 
have received so much, as it would be the truest instance 
of my gratitude, is the utmost wish I can form. But 
a view of my own numerous failings checks the vanity 
of this hope, and tells me that though He in whom I move 
and speak does not always require wisdom and prudence, 
yet some degree of purity he does always require, in 


those who would move or speak to His glory. I have 
therefore little reason to expect that He will direct any 
motion of mine to that end, especially when the particu- 
lar end proposed relates to one who is far advanced in 
the great race w""^ I am but lately entered upon, if 
indeed I am entered yet. AVhat shall I say to such a 
one as is almost possest of the crown, which I dimly see 
afar off? To another I could recommend those assist- 
ances w*"^ I find so necessary for myself. I could say, 
that if our ultimate end is the love of God, to w""** the 
several particular Christian virtues lead us, so the means 
leading to these are to communicate every possible time, 
and whatsoever we do. To pray without ceasing ; not to 
be content with our solemn devotions whether publick 
or private ; but at all times and in all places, to make fer- 
vent returns " by ejaculations " and " abrupt intercourses 
of the mind with God :" to thrust " these between all 
our other employments," if it be only by a word, a 
thought, a look, always remembering 

'* If I but lift my eyes, my suit is made ! 
Thou caa'st no more not hear, than Thou can'st die !" 

To account what of frailty remains after this, a neces- 
sary incumbrance of flesh and blood ; such an one as God 
out of his mercy to us will not yet remove, as seeing it 
to be useful tlio' grievous ; yet still to hope that since 
we seek Him " in a time when he may be found," before 
the great water-flood hath overwhelmed us. He will in 
his good time, " quell the raging of this sea, and still the 
waves thereof when they arise !" To you, who know 
them so well, I can but just mention these considerations, 
which I would press upon another : yet let me beg you 


to believe, that though I want the power, I have the most 
sincere desire of approving myself, 
Your most obliged and 

Most obedient humble servant, 
John Wesley. 

My brother joins with me in his best respects both to 
yourself, and those good ladies whom we love to call 
your family. 

The above letter from the celebrated Wesley proves the high 
estimation in which the mother of Mary Granville was held by a 
man of whom it has been justly observed, that he ** was one of the 
most extraordinary characters that ever existed;" whether con- 
sidered as a various and voluminous writer, a zealous and inde- 
fatigable preacher, or the founder of one of the most numerous sects 
in the Christian world. He was born 1703 ; entered as scholar in the 
Charter-house 1713, fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford, in 1725, 
and took the degree of Master of Arts in 1726. He preached his first 
field-sermon at Bristol, on the 2nd of April, 1738, from which time 
his followers continued to increase. Although he chiefly resided in 
the metropolis, he occasionally travelled through every part of 
Great Britain and Ireland, establishing congregations in each 
kingdom, and died on the 2nd of March, 1791, in the 88th year 
of his. age. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Northend, 27 May, 1731. 

I believe I answered every part of y' last except about 
mama's takino' Mrs'.^^arson's house. I think she will do 
mighty well ; she wiU^have but a httle way to move, and 
the house being wainscoted she will find it very con- 


venient : I never saw the rooms above, those below are 
cheerfull. I shall be very glad to hear she has taken it. 
I beg ten thousand pardons for not sooner sending you 
the measure of the chairs as you desired me, but you 
know what a naughty place London is : I hope I am 
now time enough, I question if they can be made in 
the country well. Last Sunday Mr. and Mrs. Pares dined 
here, she looks very well, but not so merry as she used 
to be. Monday in the afternoon came Mr. and Mrs. 
Wesley, and Miss Donnellan. S' John Stanley received 
them, and showed great civility, as is his nature. They 
were mightily pleased ; it was a lovely day : we walked a 
great deal, and going abroad has improved Mrs. Wesley 
prodigiously ; they all talked of you, and wished often to 
have you with them. Mr. Wesley proposes many jaunts 
this summer, and always is so good as to desire me for 
one of the party. You cannot imagine how Mrs. Wesley's 
humour is changed for the better. She is as easy and cheer- 
full as anybody can desire, and expresses great liking to 
y' humble servant ; not that I would have you imagine I 
measure her good-humour from her approbation of me, 
but she seems inclined to be civil everywhere, and what- 
ever peevishness she exprest in the winter must be attri- 
buted to her sickness, which will try the best of tempers. 
Upon my mama's approving of my Irish scheme I 
plucked up my courage and spoke again t o my brother. 
I told him Sir John approved of it as well as mama, and 
he answered " I was to please myself, he had nothing to 
do with it," and after that was as mute as a fish to all I 
could say, but has been in good humour ever since ; so I 
believe he thinks it more reasonable than he now cares 
to own after having been so point blank against it. I 


laid the whole affair before him, but not a word could I 
^et out of him more, so I took his silence for consent, 
and have thought how to settle my matters for that 
same expedition. The Bishop of Killala and his lady 
and Mr. Donnellan have wrote very kind pressing letters 
for us, and there is an apartment ready for us in the 
Bishop's house whenever we please to go and take pos- 
session. I talked of it yesterday to S' John Stanley, 
and he seems very well pleased with it. 

Lady Carteret and Lady Dysart go to Tunbridge 
before they go to the Bath. I sent your letter to Miss 
Carteret, which I am sure will delight her. I have heard 
nothing of Puzzle since he left Glocpster. Have you seen 
old Biddy ? what says she ? Bounce rails at Eyebrows 
most excessively, and lays the loss of her lover to his 
charge ; I wish you and I could peep in at her window 
the first time they meet. 

Dragon Legh has quarrelled with my neighbour Lady 
Doddy, and they rate one another handsomely. Lady Dod 
told Mrs. Donnellan that Legh spoke very disrespectfully 
of her, and that she had said so many outrageous things of 
me, that I ought to fly out of any room she came into. 
Sir John Stanley met her at Lady Sunderland's one day 
and commended a pair of blue glass earrings that she 
called diamonds, and won her heart ; he afterwards thanked 
my Lady Sunderland for her goodness to Biddy, she imme- 
diately enquired who that was ? and told Sir John she 
should have her custom, and she would do her all y* 
service she could, and had bought a lutestring which 
she did not want on purpose that she should make it, 
and gave her two more suits. The girl has her lesson 
given her not to say she makes clothes for me. 

VOL. I. T 


Ned Stanley dined here last Sunday ; lie was gayer than 
usual. I forget to write you word that last week I had 
a very kind letter from Mrs. Hyde ^ to desire me to come 
to Epsom races, and that she had kept a room on pur- 
]30se for me, but I would not go. We have not heard of 
Lord Weymouth's arrival, nor lately how Miss Grace 

Remember me in the kindest manner to the Unity s. 
Have you given the picture and the crab-tree ? those 
inimitable pieces in their way. No news in verse or 
prose have I met with this many a day. I have lately 
been very much entertained with a book wrote by a 
Swiss — "Lettres sur les Anglois et sur les Fran^ais" — 
wherein he gives a very good account of both nations. 

Your account of Puzzle savours much of madness. I 
am glad his fortune is so good, 'tis a very handsome main- 
tenance for a single man. I think he has a great deal of 
merit, and I protest solemnly I am extremely sorry to 
give him any pain ; and had I any inclination to marry 
and a fortune double what I have, I would prefer him 
to any man I now know ; but to let you see serioiLsly 
that money without worth cannot tempt me, I have re- 
fused my Lord Tirconnell.^ L^ Carteret asked me the 
other day if I would give her leave to proceed in it, that 

' Mrs. Hyde (Honourable Jane Calvert, sister of Lord Baltimore). From 
this invitation to the Epsom races, it appears that Mrs, Hyde resided herself 
near Epsom, as Lord Baltimore being then married the Hydes could not have 
lived at his place, Woodcote. 

2 Sir John Brownlow, created May 14th, 1718, Lord Brownlow and Viscount 
Tyrconnel ; married, first, to his first cousin Eleanor, daughter to Sir John 
Brownlow ; but by her, who died Sept. 11, 1730, he had no issue. Lord Tyr- 
connel married, secondly, on the 24th of Jan., 1732, Elizalx'th, daughter of 
William Cartwright, Esq. He died s. p. in 1754, when the title became ex- 


slie thought I should be very blameworthy to refuse so 
vast a fortune, a title and a good-natured man. All that, I 
told her, was no temptation to me ; he had the character 
very justly of being silly, and I would not tie myself to \ 
such a companion for an empire; she said I was in 
the wrong. I suppose Puzzle designs to throw off all ac- 
quaintance with me : I gave him a fair invitation to my 
friendship, though I could not admit of more ; but he 
is like the children that won't eat their bread and butter 
without glass windows. 

I am sorry the houses are so soon disposed of. You 
must send to Cap*. Pierce for a plan to build a house, 
and then I am sure it will be pretty and convenient. I 
am delighted with mama's charming work,' and will have 
it whitened by the best hand. The jewel-box is not yet 
come home ; I will take care and call for it. I have been 
a brute to Tom Tit. He told me so many pretty things 
to say to you about the box, that I believe the little 
creature was inspired, and I have never seen him but 
that he has showed me the box, and said something 
gaUant on the occasion. 

Mi-s. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

New Bond Street, 8th June, 1731. 

I mentioned to you my dining, on Thursday last, at 
Mrs. Percival's. There was Capel Moore and Lady Mary, 
his wife ; she seems to be a good sort of a woman, wdthout 
any airs or livehness ; he was a little cogitibund or grave 
(for to tell you the truth, I do not well understand the 

' Mrs. Granville's spinning. 

T 2 


meaning of y* hard word), till after dinner. He asked 
after you. I reproached him for not meeting you and 
making you laugh as you appointed him to do at the 
ridotto : he endeavoured to excuse himself, and to put 
an end to my reproof, said kind things of you. After 
drinking tea, Lady Mary went away ; Capel proposed 
going on the water : we accepted the offer, took up Mr. 
Wesley in our way, drove to Wliitehall Stairs, took the 
boat we liked best, and rowed away very pleasantly — the 
water smooth, the sky serene, the company in good 
humour, Philomell was soon called upon to make use 
of her sweet pipe, which she did. A boat with two 
ladies and one gentleman was immediately attracted and 
pursued us. As soon as they were near enough for us to 
see their faces, who should we behold but the Duchess 
of Ancaster,^ an odd woman with her, and my Lord 
Tyrconnell ! I was not a little diverted at the interview, 
but much more so when he opened his wise mouth, and 
told Mrs. Donnellan her singing was " the finest water 
language he ever heard, nay, the finest language he had 
ever heard by land or by water," and many more polite 
speeches we had. They were in an open boat, ours was 
cover'd : it would have diverted you to see how the 
wretch peeped to look at us, which was no easy matter. 
My companion's voice charmed them so much that 
they did not quit us till she had sung several songs. 
Capel asked the Duchess of Ancaster to sing, which 
she in a droll way did vqry readily ; at last they agreed 
to sing a duetto out of y* Beggars' Opera, but such 
catterwauling never was heard and we all laughed. 

> Query, whether Albini.o, Duchess Dowager of Ancaster, who died 1745, or 
Jane, wife of Peregrine, 2nd Duke of Ancaster, who died in 1736. 


As we were returning home, and had parted with our 
gallant company, they discovered water in the hottom of 
the boat : my feet were soaked quite through up to my 
ankles, and my petticoats above half-a-yard sopped in 
water. We began to think it no joke, and ordered the 
boatmen to put in at the first stair. We landed at a little 
island, where was one solitary house ; we knocked at the 
door, and a clever-shaped young woman, dressed in a 
white calico night-gown, with some difficulty admitted 
us. The boat was examined and pronounced leaky. 
We endeavoured to get another boat, none could be had, 
so they mended up our crazy vessell and we ventured. 
We arrived safe and sound at Whitehall Stairs at eleven 
o' th clock ; the moon shone sweetly. 

It is the only jaunt I have taken this year where I 
have not wished for you ; at our first setting out I did, 
but when we discovered the defects of our barque I was 
glad you were not there. I was not at all frightened at it, 
though I believe there was some danger. So much for 
that day, which was a merry one. The next day I met the 
Percivals at Mr. Wesley's, where, after a very good repast 
and kind welcome, we walked up-stairs, where we were to 
be entertained with an orrery. You must understand that 
this is a machine in form of a sphere, wherein is demon- 
strated the solar system, with all the motions and dis- 
tances of the planets. Just as the learned man was going 
to explain to us, a summons arrived for me to go to Mrs. 
Monck's Xtning, which, with great regret, I did, and 
what was more provoking, had no company there but 
old men and boys ; my fine feUow-gossip departed that 
morning for Ireland, and pro\dded, to supply his place, 
an old deaf man with half an nose. My Lord Darnley was 


the other godfather, and I represented Lady Shelbourn. 
No woman there but myself. I staid there about an 
hour, and returned to y* good folks in Conduit Street, 
but the celestial affair was over. 

Nothing worth giving you an account of happened 
from that time till yesterday, that we went to Greenwich, 
but never people chose such a day for such a jaunt. It 
being Whitson Monday the place was fuller of mob than 
ever Barton fair was ; however, we endeavoured to make 
ourselves sport with everything we met with. First we 
went to see Sir Gregory Page's house, the outside of 
which and the situation you know. The house is not 
magnificent, but prodigiously handsome, furnished ele- 
gantly but not extravagantly, everything well under- 
stood, and a nicety in the furnishing of it beyond 
any I ever saw ; some very pretty pictures, but none 
by the most valuable hands, ten rooms on a floor, and 
a very handsome gallery, China and Japan to per- 
fection. After dinner, Mrs. Donnellan and I and Miss 
Wesley were inclined to walk in the park ; the gentlemen 
had not quite finished, so we left them and took two 
footmen with us. With dificulty we crouded into the park, 
but melancholy sight ! not one bit of grass to be seen, 
all that verdure so parched up for want of rain that one 
could not have thought grass had ever grown there, it 
was so different from what I have ever seen it, that it 
recalled no hour back that I had ever passed there ; but 
still I wished for you ; we sat down on a bench to 
observe the odd medley and the people rolling down the 

Sir Gregory Page, mentioned in this letter (was of Grreenwich 
and Wricklemarsh, Kent), succeeded his father 1720. He married 


Mrs. Martha Kenward, but had no issue, and died at the age of 
ninety, 4th of August, 1775 ; when the property devolved upon 
his great nephew, Sir Grregory Turner, Bart., who assumed the 
surname and arms of Page. Lysons states that Wricklemarsh (in 
the parish of Charlton) was bought by Sir Gregory Page in 1721, 
after the death of the widow of Sir John Morden, Bart. " Sir 
Gregory having pulled down the old mansion, built at a great 
expense a very magnificent structure of stone, consisting of a 
centre and two wings united by a colonnade ; the whole of which 
was completed in one year by James the architect. He also adds, 
that the internal decorations corresponded in magnificence, and 
that a very fine collection of paintings by the old masters bore 
witness to the taste and liberal spirit of the owner. His great 
nephew sold the estate to John Cator, Esq., in 1784 — who in 1787 
sold the house by auction, in lots, to be taken down — a great part 
of it had not been removed in 1796, when it still stood In 
ruins, a melancholy monument of its former grandeur." 

Mrs. Pendarues to Mrs. Anne Granville. 

New Bond Street, 5th August, 1731. 

Time, thou most precious of all things why art thou 
so fleeting ? But I must write, and let the world wait. 
Last night in order to dolce sogno my kindest and dear- 
est sister's letter came to my hands. The sense of your 
French paragraph is very well to be understood, though 
not properly wrote ; however that must not discourage 
you, for many an Englishman bom and bred at school 
does not write English better than you now do French, 
that learned but three months ; read constantly, and set 
yourself every day a task out of the grammar, and I am 
sure, without any assistance besides your own industry, 
you will conquer all the difficulties of it. Vertot' sworks 


are delightful ; they are very good French and well wrote. 
I know the more you are acquainted with the language, 
the more you will like it ; I have got the Henriade and 
Madame de Sevigne's letters from Sally. Your letters 
always charm me, but none ever delighted me more than 
the last I received from you, I cannot make use of any 
words that can better express the sense of my pleasure 
in that particular than your own, that you so kindly 
apply to me : "I cannot be persuaded that any creature 
has the art of writing so sensibly and tenderly as your- 
self," &c. I sent you an epistle the post before, wherein I 
joked about the young man with aching chops, and was 
so silly as to name names, which I am sorry for since 
you have not received it, for I was a little jocose, and if 
it lights in bad hands it might be taken seriously. Your 
partiality to my phiz makes you not think the picture 
handsome enough : I am afraid you do not like the dress, 
and I pleased myself with the oddness of it, and I hate a 
face that is always without shade. I have a picture too, but 
alas ! a feint, feint resemblance ! I am always vexed as 
well as pleased when I look at it, for it certainly is a bad 
likeness, and not well painted; you are much better drawn 
in a place where the air cannot fade you, and where justice 
is done you without flattery ;' there are not only the out- 
lines and the air of the countenance, the life and sweet- 
ness of the eyes, but that sensible penetrating look that 
fairly shows how well the form is animated. 

If you expect any sublimity in Barnwell you will be 
disappointed, the style is mean enough ; you shall have it 
as soon as I can have an opportunity of sending to you. 

' This remark might have alluded to the portrait of Ann Granville in 
crayon under a glass painted hy her si'ster. 

OF MRS. DELA^'Y. 281 

Yesterday I dined at Sir Jolin Stanley's to meet the 
whole blood of the Moncks ; my old love's wife is really 
a pretty sort of a civil young thing. He is grown very 
fat and grave, much altered from what he was ; the gay 
and sprightly youth is dwindled into the thoughtful dull 
husband, and it is so generally speaking. 'Tis strange, 
but when we are arrived to the summit of any happiness 
we have been eagerly pursuing, the spirits grow languid 
and heavy, and don't seem to enjoy what they were before 
so miserable to obtain. I believe by this time my brother 
Bevill is embarked — he only waited for a fair wind. Mr. 
Benedict Calvert,' that was Governor of Maryland, is 
come home on the account of his health, and a brother 
of Mr. Ogle's is going in his place. I desired Mrs. 
Donnellan to ask his interest in favour of my brother, 
and he has in the handsomest manner promised to do 
everything for him that lies in his power. He has now 
the fairest opportunity in the world to mend his fortune, 
and what is past may serve as a very good lesson to him, 
and prevent his splitting on the same rock. As soon as 
we know when Mr. Kit Donnellan can come to town we 
shall fix our time of going. I am afraid I shall not be 
able to send you any venison, because there is no carrier 
from Longleat to Bristol. Does a carrier come to Glou- 
cester every day, or what days ? I am glad mama likes 
the chains : they are very strong and much admired by 
everybody. I must go to my work, having millions of 
things to do, and leave my dearest Anna to make a 
ruffle. Oh base exchange ! but it must be, though I am 

^ Honourable Benedict Calvert, brother of Lord Baltimore. 


very much ruffled about it. My duty to my dear mama, 
and service to all friends that remember one who loves 

you so tenderly as 

Your affectionate and unalterable 
Friend and Sister, 


Lord Lcmsdowne to his niece, Mrs. Pendarves. 

Wednesday Evening, June 30, 1731. 

My Bear Niece, 

I should be glad if it might suit with your con- 
veniency to let me see you either this evening or to- 
morrow morning before you go to Court. I would wait 
upon you myself, if I knew your hour of being at home. 
Believe me, my dear niece, always your most affectionate 

uncle and most humble servant, 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Anne OranvUle. 

13th July, 1731. 

I have not sent you any catgut for working handker- 
chiefs. I begun to work one, and I found it so tedious 
that I was sure you would not like the work ; but now I 
have given you warning, if you insist upon having one, 
you shall. 

* The style of dress in England, in 1731, is exactly represented by Hogarth, 
who is the best authority for the costume of all the years in which his 
pictures were executed, and in general for the reigns of George I. and II. 
Written descriptions and pictures of the dresses worn from 1714 to the close 
of George lll.'s reign, may be found in Blanche's " British Costume :" those 
from 1772 to 1789 being derived from prints after Hoppner. In 1732, a sort 
of gipsy hat was in fashion, worn with a cap and lappets underneath. The 
forms of the hats varied from year to year through tlie century, according to 
the prevalent manner of dressing the hair. 


I long to know how you like the black hat ;' the fancy 
was approved of very much here ; I should have sent it 
you down by Puzzle, but he did not come to me, and I 
did not care to send it to him. 

I cannot say I like Mr. Lafountain's painting, he does 
not understand the drawing part so well as he ought ; 
but I am grown passionately fond of Hogarth's painting, 
there is more sense in it than any I have seen. I be- 
lieve I wrote' you word that Mr. Wesley's^ family are 
drawn by him, and Mrs. Donnellan with them. I have 
had the pleasure of seeing him paint the greatest part of 
it ; he has altered his manner of painting since you saw 
his pictures ; he finishes more a good deal. I have re- 
leased Lady Sunderland from her promise of giving me 
her picture by Zinck, to have it done by Hogarth.^ I 
think he takes a much greater Hkeness, and that is what 
I shall value my friend's picture for, more than for the 
excellence of the painting. Hogarth has promised to 
give me some instructions about drawing that will be of 
great use, — some rules of his own that he says will im- 
prove me more in a day than a year's learning in the 
common way. When he has performed his promise I will 
communicate to my dearest sister, though that will not be 
politic, for you excel me now, and when I have delivered 

* William Hogarth, the painter, was bom in 1698, and bound apprentice in 
London to a silver-plate engraver. In 1720 he entered into business for him- 
self. His first original painting is said to have been a representation of Wan- 
stead Assembly, with portraits from the life. In 1730, he married the 
daughter of Sir James Thomhill, and afterwards produced, year after year, 
many remarkable pictures. After the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, (1748,) he 
visited France, and being in the act of making a drawing of the gate at Calais, 
was taken up as a spy. On returning to England he recorded the fact in his 
print called "O ! the roast beef of old England !" He amassed a good fortune 
died in 1762, and was buried at Chiswick. 


up my arms you will vanquish me quite, but this is the 
only instance where I shall have more pleasure in being 
excelled than in excelling, as my own performance can 
never give me so much delight as yours will. 

Last Friday I dined at Mr. Wesley's, and met the 
Percivals, Mr. Coot and Harry Usher. After dinner I 
came home to settle accounts with Mrs. Badge, and 
order the packing up of the box ; when that was done I 
returned to my company- The young men upon my going 
away thought the company was to disperse, and walked 
off, but we were very merry without them. Mr. Perci- 
val, you know, can be very entertaining, and so can Mr. 
Wesley. We romped, and played at little plays with the 
children till supper-time. I never met with so deHghtful 
a man as my hero Mr. Wesley — so much goodness, 
friendliness, and cheerfulness joined. To my sorrow, he 
goes away to-morrow ; I am to meet them to-day at Mrs. 
Percival's, to take leave. Miss Wesley is the finest girl I 
ever saw ; you would have been charmed had you seen 
her mimick the dancing of twenty people, I believe among 
them Miss Edwin and languishing Mr. Ogle. 

I pick up by degrees the things I shall want for my 
Irish expedition ; I have bought a gown and petticoat, 
'tis a very fine blue satin, sprigged all over with 
white, and the petticoat facings and endings bordered 
in the manner of a trimming wove in the silk ; this 
suit of clothes cost me sixteen pound ; and yesterday I 
bought a pink-coloured damask for seven shillings a 
yard, the prettiest colour I ever saw for a nightgown. 
As soon as we know when Mr. Kit Donnellan ^ can come 

^ Son of Chief Justice Donellan, and brother of Mrs. Clayton and Mre. 


to London, we shall fix the time for our journey. The 
flowers for your patch-boxes are bespoke. Mama's chairs 
are finished, and will be sent down this week. I wish 
the pictures I chose for Mrs. Hop may please her, 
but not knowing what her design was made me at a loss 
what sort of pictures to choose. Pray what coloured 
ground are your boxes ? You never saw such perfection as 
Mrs. Clayton's trunk ; other's Japan is beautiful, but 
this is beauty — it is the admiration of the whole town. 
Oh but the '"''flying toad /" if you do not procure it for me 
1 shall be miserable; it will be of great service to me. I de- 
sign to make it my master of the ceremonies to Sir Hans 
Sloane, my ambassador extraordinary that shall nego- 
tiate in my favour, and procure for me the liberty of 
living among Sir Hans' curiosities as long as I please, 
and shall also secure a place for you. I have not heard 
from Sally a good while. I am indebted to Cyrus, but I 
will write as soon as I can. If you write to him soon 
you may say I am in some hurry preparing for my in- 
tended journey. 

How do you like your French master ? Do you learn 
often ? I will soon send you Voltaire's Brutus ; it is a 
fine tragedy, but I never saw one so affecting as George 
Barnwell.^ It is not yet published ; when it is you shall 
have it with Brutus. The latter is in French, the other 
in English, but I do not know who is the author. 

> " George Barnwell." This tragedy was written by George Lillo, who is said 
to have been the son of a Dutch father and an English mother. Like his father, 
he followed the trade of a jeweller. He was born in 1693, spent his life in Lon- 
don, and died in 1743. Besides the tragedy of "George Barnwell," he wrote 
"Fatal Cnriosity," and " Arden of Faversham." Campbell calls Lillo "the 
tragic poet of middling and familiar life," and remarks that his works " trlve 
us life in a close and dreadful semblance of reality, but not arra}-ed in tlio 
magic illusion of poetry." 



Mrs. Pendarves's Visit to Ireland. 
Sept. 1731— April, 1733. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

Chester, 10th Sept, 1731. 

Here we are weather bound : wliat can I do so agreable 
to my inclinations as write to my dearest sister. In- 
deed 1 find it very intolerable to be so many days with- 
out receiving any of your letters. I am sure you wrote 
and directed it to Chester as you promised you would : it 
vexes me to lose one of yours. The weather hitherto has 
been contrary to us, and we are so cautious that we will 
not venture till the weather is well settled. This house, 
considering it is an inn, is very well, the landlady I gave 
mama an account of. We have several of our acquaint- 
ances here waiting for a passage also. Mr. Dubourg and 
his wife, with his charming Fidelle, sweet Philomel, whose 
conversation, you know, is not inferior to her voice, exerts 
herself, and is an excellent tra-veller. Our spiritual guide 
takes abundance of care of us, and by way of variety, 
we have a pretty butterfly man now and then — Mr. Gore, 
son to Judge Gore, of Ireland, and heir to a great estate. 
Mr. Donnellan, his sister, and I breakfast together on 


coffee and parapy elites.' At dinner-time our company 
meet, and we pay a shilling a-head for our meal, and find 
our own wine : we are very well provided for ; our sup- 
per we have by ourselves. We amuse ourselves with 
working, reading, and walking, and in the evening play 
a pool at picket. We have secured places in the Pretty 
Betty. The best cabin Mrs. Donnellan and I have taken 
to ourselves, and are to pay five guineas, but I believe 
it will be some days before we shall go away. Yesterday 
morning Mr. Gore tempted us to go to Sir Richard 
Grosvenor's ;^ the day favoured us, and we were mightily 
pleased with the place ; the gardens are laid out in the 
old-fashioned taste, with cut-work parterres, and wil- 
derness enclosed in hedges ; the ground lies extremely well 
to the house, and every way there is a fine prospect. I 
have not seen an inland situation that I like so well. 
We were offered fruit and wine, though Sir Richard 
was not there. I have now, I think, told you all the 
remarkable occurrences. We might be entertained with 
assemblys and plays, but we do not think it worth our 
while to shine at Chester. I suppose by this time you 
are returned from Staunton. Dubourg plays and Phill 
sings as much as we desire them. 

Dublin, Sept. 22, 1731. 
I hope by this time my dearest sister has no more 
fears for me, and that my mama has received my letter 

^ Query Pyclites (a sort of cake). 

3 Sir Richard Grosvenor, of Eaton, who acted as grand cupbearer at the 
coronation of King George II. by presenting to his Majesty the first cup of 
wine after he had been crowned, and had the cup as his fee. Sir Richard mar- 
ried, first, Jane, daughter of Sir Ed ward Wyndham, Bart., by whom he had 
no surviving issue, secondly, Diana, only daughter of Sir George Warburton, 
Bart., of Arley, county Chester, but had no issue. He died in 1732, when 
the title devolved upon his brother. 


with an account of my voyage, which, considering the 
time of year, was a very good one. I must do justice to 
the good people I am with, and give you a notion of our 
way of living, and the friendliness I meet with. The 
Bishop and his lady, you know, are agreeable, but were 
never so much so as in their own house, which indeed is 
magnijique, and they have a heart answerable to their 
fortune. They received me with real joy, which does not 
seem to allay upon our being longer together. The 
first day we came we were denied to all but particular 
friends. Mrs. Usher and her son and daughter came ; you 
were much inquired after, and heartily wished for. Alas ! 
did I not join in that wish ? The next day we dined 
at Mrs. Usher's and supped, an established rule in this 
place, and were very handsomely entertained. 

Sunday we went to church, and in the evening saw 
all company that came, which was numerous, for Mrs. 
Clayton is extremely liked, and visited by everybody. 
Yesterday we were at the same sport, and this morning 
we are to go to the Duchess of Dorset's^ to pay our court. 
Miss Moll Forth, who you have often heard Philomel 
mention, is now in the house with us. She, I believe, is 
worthy of the character Phill always gave her. She has 
sense, and the greatest degree of backwardness I ever met 
with ; she can't help sometimes saying a witty thing, but 
it comes without design. She is the picture of humility 
and gentleness. It is a great deal to say of a person that 
one has not known a week, but I believe if you were here 
you would make the same judgment. So much for our 

' Lionel, Duke of Dorset, was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from June 23, 
1730, to April 23, 1737, and also from Dec. 15, 1750, to April 2, 1755. He 
married Elizabeth, daughter of Lieut.-General Walter Philip Colyear, brother 
to David, Earl of Portmorc. 


company — now for our habitation ! Stephen's Green is 
the name of the Square where this house stands; the chief 
front of it is like Devonshire House. The apartments are 
handsome, and furnished with gold-coloured damask — 
virtues, and busts, and pictures that the Bishop brought 
with him from Italy. A universal cheerfulness reigns in 
the house. They keep a very handsome table, six dishes of 
meat are constantly at dinner, and six plates at supper. 

(About postage.) I will enquire some means or 
other of lessening that expense. I can do it very well 
if Sir Eobert Sutton is not gone to the Bath, but do 
write constantly to me, and omit no particulars, for now 
I shall want to know more than ever, not only every- 
thing you do but everything you think. Adieu, my 
dearest sister, I am called away. The kind services of this 
liouse attend you, and my humble duty to dear mama. 
I am yours, with the tenderest affection, 

For ever and ever, M. Pen. 

Dublin, 26th Sept. 1731. 
After having waited and wished a whole fortnight, 
I received my dearest sister's letter ; the pleasure I had 
at that instance can only be surpassed by that of seeing 
you. Ten thousand thanks for every line in it. 'Tis 
absolutely necessary to my happiness, that I constantly 
receive such marks of your affection for me, as often as 
the winds wiU permit. You are by this time, I hope, 
perfectly satisfied about every thing relating to my 
journey. I must now proceed and give you an account 
of men and manners. Last Tuesday I wrote you word 
of my having been at the Castle in the morning. We 
went again in the evening ; the apartments consist of 

VOL. I. F 


three rooms, not altogether so large as those at St. 
James's, but of a very tolerable size. In the farthest room 
there is placed a basset table, at which the Duchess of 
Dorset sits down after she has received and made her 
compliments to the company. It is very seldom any 
ladies sit down to basset, but quadrille parties are made 
in the other rooms, and such idle ones as 1 saunter up 
and down, or pick up some acquaintance to chat with, just 
the same as at St. James's. There were several very pretty 
women ; the top beauty is Lady Ross,^ a sweet agreeable 
creature. Your friend Miss Usher is much improved, 
and very justly placed among the pretty women ; she is a 
very good-humoured, cheerful girl, and much at your 
service as she often tells me ; her brother, whom you 
have heard mentioned frequently by Phill as her 
favourite, is a very agreeable young man, has sense and 
humour, but is so backward that I believe I never shall 
be better acquainted with him than to ask the common 
questions of the hour and the weather, &c. My cousins 
are not yet come to town, but are expected about a fort- 
night hence. 

Great preparations are making against the Birthday. 
There are to be no balls at Court, but on such public 
days ; Lady Carteret used to have balls once a week, 
but they brought so great a crowd that the Duchess, 
who is of a quiet spirit, will avoid them. Most of 
the Moncks ^ are at present out of town, but I expect 

* Basset ; a game at cards, invented at Venice. 

* Sir James Ross married Grizel, third daughter of William, 11th Lord Ross. 
Sir James died in 1755, and was succeeded by his eldest son, William. 

^ Henry Monck, Esq. married, 1673, Sarah, daughter and heiress of Sir Thomas 
Stanley, Knt., of Grange Gorman, in the county of Dublin, and had issue— 
1. George, his successor, who married the Honourable Mary Molesworth, 


them thick and three-fold soon. Yesterday I spent an 
agreeable afternoon at Mr. Hamilton's, Mr. Usher met 
us there. I never saw a couple better suited than Mr. 
Hamilton and his wife ; they are both genteel and per- 
fectly well-behaved, without any affectation ; their house, 
like themselves, looks cheerful and neat. Whist was 
played till supper, but there were always three that looked 
on, who all took their turn of play, except your humble 
servant. We had a ver}- pretty supper, neatly served, and 
parted between twelve and one. 

I don't beheve I shall meet mth people I like better 
during my stay here ; they are both young, and have 
four children, whose behaviour shows the sense of their 
parents. As for the generality of people that I meet 
with here, they are much the same as in England — a 
mixture of good and bad; all that I have met with 
behave themselves very decently, according to their 
rank, now and then an oddity breaks out, but none so 
extraordinary but that I can match them in England. 
There is a heartiness among them that is more like 
Cornwall than any I have known, and great sociableness. 
I apprehend from that way of living there must arise a 

and had two sons and two daughters. 2. Charles, who inherited the property 
of his maternal ancestor of Grange Gorman, and was father of Henry Monck, 
by Agneta Hitchcock, by whom he became possessed of the estate of Charle- 
ville. His son, the above Henrj' Monck, married Isabella, daughter of Henry, 
1st Duke of Portland, and had one surviving daughter, who married George, 
Marquis of Waterford. The estates of Henry Monck devolved, at his decease, 
upon his cousin Charles Stanley Monck. 3. Thomas, married Judith, daughter 
of Eobert Mason, Esq., and had three sons and one daughter, who married 
Viscount Monck. The eldest son was the above Charles Stanley, who inherited 
his uncle's estates as above stated, and was created Viscount Monck, and whose 
son was created Earl of Rathdown. 4. William, married Dorothy, sister 
of John, Earl of Damley, and was ancestor of the Bligh Moncks, of Coley 
Park, Berkshire. 

u 2 


good deal of tittle-tattle, but I have not heard much 
jet. Wherever I go I meet with great civilities ; I don't 
take it as paid me on my own account, but that of those 
I am with, who are here highly regarded, and indeed 
their friendliness and kindness to me increases every 
day. They study to entertain me, and I have no uneasi- 
ness on their account but that they may think I am not 
so cheerful as they would have me ; but as I grow older, 
though I feel as much warmth as ever, I have not so 
lively a way of shewing it. I attribute it a great deal to 
the fear I have always had of appearing too gay ; a 
wrong notion I am now convinced, and it hurts the 
temper. Our spirits ought to have their full career when 
our inclinations are innocent, and should not be checked 
but where they would exceed the bounds of prudence. 

I received yours and Sally's joint epistle. This day will 
be dedicated to home — Sunday always is, and on Monday 
we are to go to the review. I suppose you have in- 
formed her of my safety, for I have not yet had 
time to write to her, but will as soon as possible. I 
desired Cyrus to direct any letter he wrote to me to 
Glo'ster, but I did not consider that will double the 
expense, therefore I desire you will send him the direc- 
tion to me here. I enjoy all the entertainment you had 
at Stanton, as far as my imagination can reach. I am 
glad to find that Puzzle is not likely to die of the pip, 
but if he keeps up his spirits with hope, I advise him to 
make 'use of a better cordial, for that will certainly fail 
him in the end. I am very glad the venison came 
safe and sweet to you. I can assure you, madam, we did 
not go flaunting to the Chester assembly, though we 
were much courted to it, and had invitations to concerts 


of music, of which Dubonrg was the head, and yet we 
did not go ; perhaps you will call this stupidity. I am 
obliged to you for your trusting me with Erminia's 
affair — you know how securely you may trust me. I shall 
be impatient till I hear more of it, and heartily wish 
good success to it — I am sure she deserves good fortune. 
The Bishop and his fair lady charge me with their 
compliments, and desire me never to omit them. 

Dr. Clayton, Bishop of Killala, has been represented as an 
eminent scholar, of " commanding deportment," who united "the 
dignity of an ecclesiastic with the ease of a fine gentleman," 
sumptuous in his mode of living, and munificent in charitable 
deeds, thougli his better qualities were tarnished by obsequous ambi- 
tion, and latterly by avowed Arianism. But as his second work, 
" The Chronology of the Hebrew Bible Vindicated," was not published 
till nearly twenty years after his preferment to the see of Killala, 
and was followed by his " Dissertation on Prophecy," and " Impartial 
Enquiry into the Time of the Coming of the ^Tessiah," a consider- 
able number of years must have elapsed before public attention 
was especially drawn to his unorthodox opinions by the publica- 
tion of the " Essay on Spirit," sanctioned if not written by him- 
self. He married a daughter of the Irish Chief Justice Donnellan, 
was promoted from Killala to the Bishopric of Cork, and afterwards 
to the still more important Bishopric of Clogher. He died the 
25th of February, 1758. Dr. Campbell, in his visit to England, 
1775, says: "Dr. Johnson asked me whether Clayton was an 
English or an Irishman ? ' He endeavoured to raise a heresy among 
you,' says he, ' but without effect, I believe.' I told him one effect 
in the case of the parish clerks. His indignation was prodigious. 
' Ay,' says he, ' these are the effects of heretical notions upon 
vulgar miuds.' " 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Dublin, 4th Oct. 1731. 

I wrote you word on Thursday last, that we designed 
going to the play that evening. Company dined here, 
among whom were Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Usher. I am 
always made to play on the harpsichord after dinner, and 
great honours I have received on that account — more 
than I am sure I merit. Well, after that to the play 
we went, *'the Spanish Fryar,"' tolerably well acted. 
The house is small, but neat and very well lighted, 
the gentlemen all sit in the pit. On Friday we went 
to a concert of music, but our sport there was very 
near being spoiled, for most of the performers were at 
the Castle, playing to their Graces, and did not think fit 
to come among us till past eight at night : we then had 
two or three pieces of music very well performed, Dubourg 
being the violino primo. On Saturday we dined and 
supped at Mrs. Usher's, where we always are very hand- 
somely entertained and in a friendly manner. 

But the chief entertainment of this week I have forgot 
to mention, which was the review on Friday morning last. 
The park, justly called Phoenix Park, was the place of 
show. One regiment of horse and three of foot, who all 
performed their parts well. The Duchess of Dorset was 
there in great state, and all the beau monde of Dublin. 
The weather favoured us, and we were very pleased with 
the sight. But I must not pass over in silence the beauties 
of the park, which is a large extent of ground, very fine 

^ The Spanish Fryar, by John Dryden, was advertized in the Daily Post of 
June 27, 1733 ; to he represented at the New Theatre in Goodman's Fields, 
London, on the same evening. 


turf, agreeable prospects, and a delightful wood, in the 
midst of which is a ring where the beaux and belles resort 
in fair weather : indeed, I never saw a spot of ground 
more to my taste, — it is far beyond St. James's or Hyde 
park. Nobody's equipage outlooked our's except my 
Lord Lieutenant's, but in every respect I must say Mrs. 
Clayton's outshines her neighbours, not that that is 
easily done here, for people understand not only living 
well, but politely. 

Yesterday we went to Christchurch, one of the cathe- 
drals. I cannot say they have much reason to brag of 
the architecture of it, but they have good voices and a 
very sweet organ. In the afternoon we took a tour of 
visits, met with most of our acquaintances at home, and 
returned to our mansion about ten, and who should be 
there to fly into our arms but your friend Mr. Index. 
You know the strength of his raptures, so figure him to 
yourself flying from one to the other with as much vehe- 
mence as a hawk seizes on his prey. 

Wabh states that the Phoenix Park derives its name by corruption 
from the native Irish name of the manor " Fionn-uisge," which 
signifies clear water, and appHes to the chalybeate spring near the 
vice-regal lodge. The word " Fionn-uisge," is properly pronounced 
" Finniske," and has been corrupted by the English into Phoenix. 
Lord Chesterfield, when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, erected the 
column with the figure of the fabulous bird surmounting its capital, 
which has assisted in perpetuating this absurd misnomer. 



Why should you, my dear Maria, insist on my going 
on with my narrative ; it will hardly afibrd you enter- 


tainment enough to compensate for the loss of time in 
reading it, I will convince you of it by my obedience. 

I was so well pleased with my visit abroad that, 
instead of staying six months (the time I at first pro- 
posed) I staid eighteen. Amongst many agreeable 
acquaintances I made there, was the person to whom I 
am now married. The character he bore in the world, 
and his particular attachment to the Baron and Baroness, 
my relations and particular friends, made me wish to 
be acquainted with him. He was then married,^ lived 
in a very agreeable manner, reserved one day in the 
week for his particular friends, amongst which number 
were those of the best learning and genius in the 
kingdom. I thought myself honoured by being admitted 
into such a set, and Silvia and I never failed making use 
of a privilege so agreeable to both of us. She made a 
considerable figure in society so well suited to her. 

By this means I grew intimate with Dessario,^ and 
had an opportunity of observing many excellent qualities 
which cannot be known in barely being acquainted with 
those talents which must be allowed shining ones, and 
have distinguished him for many years. His wit and learn- 
ing were to me his meanest praise ; the excellence of his 
heart, his humanity, benevolence, charity and generosity, 
his tenderness, affection, and friendly zeal, gave me a 
higher opinion of him than of any other man I had ever 
conversed with, and made me take every opportunity of 

^ This is a slight error, which was very natural in recoimting from memory 
the history of so long a course of previous years. Dr. Delany was not married 
when Mrs. Pendarves first arrived in Dublin, in 1731, but he married some 
months afterwards before she left Ireland. 

3 Dessario. — Dr. Delany. 


conversing and corresponding with one from whom I 
expected so much improvement. 

A little before I made my visit to Ireland young 
Tomasio^ returned from his travels, being just of age. 
He was son to Laura by her first husband, heir to great 
honours and a vast estate. I had been so used to him 
from his infancy in Alcander's family, that I looked upon 
him as my younger brother. He was always very fond 
of me, and being ten years younger than myself, I used 
to give him my advice upon all occasions, and he had an 
entire confidence in me. We corresponded when he was in 
France, and I often told him he must let me choose him 
a wife, wliich he said I should. He had been married in 
his minority to a young lady of great quality,^ but she 
died before he returned from his travels, so they never 
lived together. It was after that he promised to consult 
me whenever he was inclined to marry. I really had the 
affection of a sister for him, and had his interest at heart. 

Laura's indiscretion, and Alcander's indolence, made 
me fear they would not have a proper attention to 
him, and if they had, I knew they had no power over 
him. He was easily led by those he was fond of, but 
jealous and obstinate where he thought any authority 
was usurped, which made me very cautious in my manner 
of proceeding with him. His behaviour towards me 
was very obliging, and I was so far from losing his 

1 Thomas, 2nd Viscount Weymouth. 

2 Thomas, Viscount Weymouth, (son of Lady Lansdown,) was bom May 
21st, 1710. He succeeded his grandfather's elder brother in the title and 
estates in 1714 ; was married on December 6, 1726, being then fifteen years' \ 
old, to the Lady Elizabeth Sackville, daughter of Lionel, Duke of Dorset, which 
lady died on June 29, 1729, whilst he was on his travels. He married se- 
condly, Louisa, daughter of John, Lord Carteret. 


favour by any advice I took the liberty of giving him, 
that at last I began to fear I had gained it too far. I 
was not only related to the Baron, but had a par- 
ticular intimacy with his family, and friendship 
with the Countess^ and with the Baron's daughters,* 
who though much younger were very fond of me, and 
I loved them all very well, but particularly the 
second daughter," who had a sweetness of manners (a 
true copy of her mind), joined to a pretty genteel person, 
that made her very engaging, and gave her the preference 
to most of the beauties of her time. 

As soon as I could judge of her disposition I wished 
that Tomasio might Hke her as well as I did. She 
was very sensible, discreet, of a complying temper, 
gentle, mild, and withaU very Uvely. Tomasio was 
good-natured and affectionate, but Hberal without dis- 
tinction, warm in his temper, could not bear contradic- 
tion, and had not discernment enough to be reasoned 
with. This sort of disposition was hard to deal with, 
and required all those qualities Louisa possessed in a 
high degree. Her fortune was small, but she had been 
bred up in magnificence, and knew how to spend a large 
one gracefully and manage it prudently : his fortune 
was very large, but his good-nature and want of resolu- 
tion turned his natural generosity into profuseness. 

What made me more zealous for this union was its being 
most earnestly desired by the Baroness and being agree- 
able to Louisa. This encouraged me to lay a train towards 
making the proposal to him, by commending her on all 

^ The Countess Granville. 

8 The daughters of Lord Carteret. | 

' ITie Hon. Louisa Carteret, 2nd daughter of Lord Carteret. 


occasions, and telling him everything I thought might 
prejudice him in her favour ; and he would often say, 
" Why do you commend her so much ?" and " he did 
not know if he did marry why he should not choose me, 
for that he liked me better than anybody." He said this 
in so blunt a manner that it passed with me for a joke, 
till he repeated it so often, adding so many fine compli- 
ments, that I thought it time to let him see I had no 
view of engaging him for myself, and then without 
disguise mentioned Louisa as the person in the world I 
thought best fitted to make him happy. He did not 
relish this proposal, and gave me no other answer but 
that he must return to France before he settled, but that 
he liked Louisa the best of the sisters. He soon after 
went to France, and I to Ireland. And now adieu ; 
'tis time to rest, &c. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Dublin, 9th Oct., 1731. 

This morning we are to go out of town to a house of 
Dr. Delany's called Delville : we carry a cold scrap 
with us, and propose spending the day very agreeably ; 
it is about three mile off". Our own family, Mr. Percival, 
and Mr. Usher make up the party. This is by way of 
preparing you for a short letter. I can easily believe 
my dear mama and sister were rejoiced at receiving the 
news of my safe arrival ; not much less was my joy last 
post in hearing from you after having waited for the 
packet a fortnight — a cruel circumstance that I fear must 
often be my fate, but since there is no remedy for it I 
will endeavour to bear it patiently. Indeed, I wish you 
could partake of the entertainments I every day meet 


with, then I should relish them more, as at present they are 
very imperfect to me ; but I will give you an account of 
them, because you say you love to know what I am doing. 

On Saturday morning we went in the coach and 
six to Still Organ, a seat of my Lord Allen's,^ four 
miles from Dublin, very fine and charming prospect 
of the sea all the way, like the harbour of Falmouth. 
On a rising ground in the park there is erected an 
obelisk, very well built, from whence there is a very 
fine and extensive view. The house is like one made 
of cards, the gardens laid out in the old-fashioned taste, 
but capable of being made a fine thing ; nothing can be 
prettier than the situation. 

I must say the environs of Dublin are delightful. The 
town is bad enough, narrow streets and dirty-looking 
houses, but some very good ones scattered about : and as 
for Stephen's Green,^ I think it may be preferred justly to 
any square in London, and it is a great deal larger than 
Lincoln's Inn Fields. A handsome broad gravel walk 
and another of grass, railed in round the square, planted 
with trees, that in the summer give a very good shade ; 
and every morning Miss Donnellan and I walk there. The 

1 Joshua, 2nd Viscount Allen, born in 1685, married 18th Oct., 1704, Mar- 
garet, daughter of Samuel Du Pass, Esq., of Epsom. His lordship died in 

2 Stephen's Green is described by Eraser, as the largest square in the city 
of Dublin, the " circumference being nearly a mile, and its area, which is en- 
closed by an iron railing, 20 statute acres." " Its surface, which is very flat, 
is laid out in walks aud shrubberies, for the use of the surrounding houses, and 
in the centre there is an equestrian statue in brass of George II. A broad 
graveled promenade surrounds the square, which is separated from the street 
by a line of stone posts, connected with festooned chains. There are nine 
approaches to the square, viz., Grafton-street, South King-street, York-street, 
Cuffe-street, Harcourt-street, Leeson-street, Bagot^strcet, Kildare-street, and 


weather has been prodigiously good ever since we came ; 
I find you cannot boast the same. I am sincerely 
rejoiced at Miss Unet's good fortune ;^ I am sure she well 
deserves it. Yesterday being the anniversary of the 
King's coronation, we, like loyal subjects, went to the 
Castle ; there was a ball very decently ordered, and 
French dancing in abundance. Your friend Index, who 
often speaks of you, played his part very well there, and 
had the prize. I danced three country dances with 
Mr. Usher in a vast crowd ; after that we were sum- 
moned to supper, where everything was prepared with 
great magnificence. Three large tables beside the Duke's, 
covered with all sorts of provision disposed very well. I 
never saw so much meat with so little confusion. After 
that they went to dancing again ; it was so hot and 
crowded that our courage would hold out but for half a 
dance. Between twelve and one we came home, and__ 
were very well pleased to lay us down. I have just 
began an acquaintance among the wits — Mrs. Grierson, 
Mrs. Sycon, and Mrs. Pilkington ; the latter is a bosom / 
friend of Dean Swift's, and I hope among them I shall i 
be able to pick up some entertainment for you. ■— ^ 

I thank you for the verses, they are pretty and new ; but 
your own thoughts, you know, always delight me more 
than other people's. Adieu ! 'tis barbarous to be inter- 
rupted, but I am hurried away and cannot any longer in- 
dulge myself. My duty to our good mama, and kindest ser- 
vice to Mrs. Viney and Mrs. Butler ; they will be angry 
with me for not writing, but I declare I have not time. 
Poor Lady Sunderland has been in great frights for her 

* Miss Unitt's marriage to Mr. Foley. 


little boy Jack, who has had several convulsion fits. I 
hope he may recover it. 

I am for ever yours, M. Pen. 

Inclose my letters to the Bishop of Killala. 

Ballard, in his " Memoirs of Learned Ladies," says that ** the 
Constantia Grierson, mentioned as one of the wits of Dublin in the 
above letter, was born in the county of Kilkenny, in Ireland, and that 
she was one of the most extraordinary women that either that 
age or any other ever produced. She died in the year 1713, at 
the age of 27, and was allowed, long before, to be an excellent 
scholar, not only in Greek and Roman literature, but in history, 
divinity, philosophy, and mathematics. She gave a proof of her 
knowledge in the Latin tongue, by her dedication of the Dublin 
edition of Tacitus to the Lord Carteret, and by that of Terence to 
his son, to whom she likewise wrote a Greek epigram." She wrote 
several fine poems in English, (Mrs. Barber has inserted several 
specimens of her talent in this way in her printed poems,) on which 
she set so little value, that she neglected to leave more than a few 
copies behind her. " What makes her character the more re- 
markable is, that she rose to this eminence in learning merely by 
the force of her own genius, and continual application. She was 
not only happy in a fine imagination, a great memory, an excellent 
understanding, and an exact judgment, but had all these crowned 
by virtue and piety ; she was too learned to be vain, too wise to be 
conceited, too knowing and too clear-sighted to be irreligious. As 
her learning and abilities raised her above her own sex, so they 
left her no room to envy any ; on the contrary, her delight was to 
see others excel ; she was always ready to advise and direct those 
who applied to her, and was herself willing to be advised. Lord 
Carteret, when he was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, obtained a 
patent for Mr. Grierson, her husband, to be the king's printer, and 
to distinguish and reward her uncommon merit, had her life 
inserted in it." 

Letitia Pilkington, another wit, the daughter of Dr. Vanlewin, 
a physician of Dublin, was bom in that city in 1712. Her 


husband was a clergyman, and a needy author, from whom a separa- 
tion took place by mutual consent. Mrs. Pilkington was one of 
Dean Swift's female coterie, and perhaps surpassed all the party in 
wit and genius not less than in levity. She died in Dublin in 1750. 
Her memoirs written by herself, and her letters, are still entertain- 
ing. Mrs. Pilkington's acquaintance with Dean Swift commenced 
by her sending him verses on his birthday. She was afterwards 
introduced to him by a lady, whom he asked if she was her daughter, 
and when informed that she was Mrs. Pilkington, he said, " What, 
that poor little child married ! God help her, she is early inured 
to trouble;*' the next Sunday the Dean engaged Mr. Pilkington 
to preach for him at St. Patrick's church, when Mrs. Pilkington 
was struck by observing that Dr. Swift went through the whole 
service himself without once looking into a book. After church he 
was surrounded by poor people, and gave to all but one old woman 
with dirty hands, to whom he said that " though a beggar, water 
was not so scarce but that she might have washed them." He 
afterwards invited the Pilkingtons to supper, handed her to the 
coach, and slipped into her hand the exact sum of money that she 
and her husband had given at the Offertory in the morning, as well , 
as the coach-hire. The Rev. Thomas Pilkington was originally 
introduced by Dr. Delany to the notice of Dean Swift, and obtained 
a humble post in his cathedral. He had talent and vivacity, but was 
totally devoid of principle, and imposed upon Dr. Swift, who, 
ever anxious to serve merit, gave him strong recommendations, 
when Pilkington went to England, to his old friend Barber, then 
Lord Mayor of London, who made Pilkington his chaplain. He 
also gave him introductions to Pope, Bolingbroke, and other friends. 
Pilkington soon threw off the mask, and became impudent and pro- 
fligate, which occasioned the complaint of Lord Bolingbroke to 
Swift upon the discredit that had been occasioned by his recom- 
mendation of Pilkington, of whom the Lord Mayor Barber, also 
complained. Mrs. Pilkington did not turn out much better than 
her husband, but there is no doubt that she was very clever, and 
that she exerted herself with great success at the period of this 
letter in appearing as estimable as she was agreeable. 



Mrs. Sican (or Sycon), one of the three wits above recorded, was 
the mother of Dr. J. Sican, who was murdered in Italy. Roscoe, 
in his edition of Swift, calls her " a very ingenious lady," and 
Swift having transformed her name into " Psyche," addressed to 
her the following verses ; — 


At two afternoon, for our Psyche inquire, 

Her tea-kettle's on, and her smock at the fire : 

So loitering, so active ; so busy, so idle ; 

Which has she most need of, a spur or a bridle ? 

Thus a greyhound outnms the whole pack in a race, 

Yet would rather be hang'd than he'd leave a warm ])lace. 

She gives you such plenty, it puts you in pain ; 

But ever with prudence takes care of the main. 

To please you, she knows how to choose a nice bit, 

For her taste is almost as refined as her wit. 

To oblige a good friend she will trace every market, 

It would do your heart good to see how she will cark it. 

Yet beware of her arts, for it plainly api)ears 

She saves half her victuals by feeding your ears. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Qranville. 

Dublin. 21st Octr, 1731. 

The enclosed was to have been sent to the last post 
by way of excusing me. Mrs. Clayton was obliged to 
go to Court in the morning, and would have me go with 
her. I am glad you like your friend's friend ; I have 
enclosed to you a letter for her, which I desire she may 
have soon. I dare say your mind was never yet tainted 
by envy. This present circumstance puts me in mind 
of Lady Sunderland's wedding. I believe you have the 
same satisfaction in Miss Unet's^ good fortune as I had 

* Elizabeth, daughter and co-heir of Robert Unitt, Esq , was the fourth 
wife of Thomas Foley, Esq., who, after marrying a fifth wife, died in 1749. 
He was of Whitley Court, in Worcestershire. 


on hers, or rather more, because you have been together 
at an ajje when the affections are strongrest. Who 
knows what may follow? The account of your ball, 
indeed, is dull enough : we have better at Court. I have 
not heard from Mr. Kirkham ;^ when I do I shall do my 
endeavour to serve him. You must know, madam, 
yesterday being Wednesday, Mrs. Clayton opened her 
apartment and admitted all her acquaintance. I will 
describe to you how they are disposed and furnished. 
First there is a very good hall well filled with servants, 
then a room of eighteen foot square, wainscoated with oak, 
the panels all carved, and the doors and chimney finished 
with very fine high carving, the ceiling stucco, the 
window-curtains and chairs yellow Genoa damask, 
portraits and landscapes, very well done, round the room, 
marble tables between the windows, and looking-glasses 
with gilt frames. The next room is twenty-eight foot 
long and twenty-two broad, and is as finely adorned as 
damask, pictures, and busts can make it, besides the 
floor being entirely covered with the finest Persian 
carpet that ever was seen. The bedchamber is large and 
handsome, all furnished with the same damask. There 
was abundance of good and agreeable company; they 
went away about half an hour after ten, and so deUghted 
with their reception, that Mrs. Clayton has promised to 
admit her friends every Wednesday. I preside at the 
commerce table. I must leave off, my letter wanted to 
go to the post. 

^ Eev. Mr. Kirkham, tbe father of " Sally," Mrs. Capon, (ChaiJone.) 

VOL. I. X 


Mrs. Foley to Mrs. Ann OrcmvUle, in the Eastgate Street, Oloucester. 

Putney, October y« 26th, 1731. 

Notwithstanding I left Glocester with so great a pro- 
spect of happiness, yet I assure you leaving my Nanelit 
was a very great allay to it ; and though I have so ofter 
experienced the pain of parting, the frequency of it is sc 
far from inspiring me with philosophy enough to hear ii 
cheerfully, that I left you with greater regret then ever 
but the reason of that is, that by your sweetness of tempei 
and the many good qualities you possess, you are dearer tc 
me every day, and the continuance of your friendship is es- 
sential to my happiness in whatever state of life I am in, 

As you are so good to be interested in all my affairs, 
I shall as I promised let you into them without any 
reserve, though as I am not yet at all settled I have 
not much to communicate. My sister informed you 
that we had a good and agreeable journey. I was re- 
ceived by my father and mother Wolstenholme, with a 
great deal of kindness and civility. My mother is so good 
to go on with the housekeeping till Xmas, by which 
time I hope to be a little acquainted with it ; and she is 
so kind to take the care of the chilldren, which for many 
reasons I am glad of. I think I never saw finer or better 
behaved chilldren in my life. I need not tell dear Miss 
Granville how perfectly happy I am in Mr. Foley, and 
from the appearance of affairs at present I have great 
reason to believe I shall be so in every other particular. 
I hope the good fortune I have met with in this world 
will be no bar to my thoughts of a much better, but 
rather heighten my gratitude and acknowledgments to 
the Author of them. Some people might perhaps take 


this for cant, but I know I am writing to a person that 
is so happy as to have a notion and regard for religion, 
and is well assured that the minutest accidents of our 
lives are governed by an all- wise and good Providence. 

I have not been long enough in this place to give you 
any particular description of it ; I can only say in the 
general 'tis very pleasant. One thing T know you would 
be delighted with, which are the common gardens which 
there are a vast number of; they are very large, and cut 
into shady walks made of all the different greens you can 
think of, adorned with all sorts of flowers : you may walk 
in any of them whenever you please, or upon a most 
delightful common, which the ladies are fond of, but I 
think too public. My own house is small but very con- 
venient, and the garden is delightful. Mr. Foley, who does 
everything to oblige me, constantly begins with yours and 
your mama's health at dinner and supper ; he is gone to- 
day to London upon business, but charged me to make 
his particular compliments to both. When I shall go to 
the metropolis I can't tell, for my chariot was not bespoke 
till to-day. I have had a great deal of very agreeable 
company, and expect a great deal more. As you observe> 
there is a great deal of difference in entertaining the 
Glocestrians and the people of this part of the world. I 
had two as fine ladies to see me yesterday as I ever 
beheld, — the one a married woman, her name Lewis, the 
other single, her name is Porteen ; you may imagine my 
time is a good deal taken up, but I will always find a 
moment to converse with you. I must tell you a joke 
will make you laugh, which has put me in some hurry, 
and Mr. Foley some expense, but he must thank himself. 
Mr. Andrews is already got into second mourning^ and 

X 2 


all his relations into colours, it was lucky I brought my 
colour clothes with me ; I sent for the mantua woman 
you recommend, she is making up my embroidery, and 
a night-gown. She came by Northend, and saw Sir John 
and your brother well yesterday morning. I have only 
room to beg mine and my sister's respects to all friends, 
and to assure you, I am 

l^our afFec* and faithful 
E. Foley. 

I shall be obliged to you if you'll let them know in 
Bart : St. we are well and desire our duty. 

The writer of this letter was Elizabeth Unett, a friend of Ann 
Granville, and whose approaching marriage was alluded to in Mrs. 
Pendarves' previous letter. She was the daughter of Robert Unett, 
Esq., and the fourth wife of Thomas Foley, Esq. of Whitley Court, 
in the county of Worcester, whose third wife was Elizabeth Wol- 
stenholme, and whose father and mother are alluded to in this 
letter by her successor, as " my father and mother Wolstenholme." 
His first wife was Miss Andrews, an heiress, and the "joke" 
alluded to probably meant that Mr. Foley, to show respect to the 
memory of his first wifes mother, had put his fourth wife and his 
household into mourning, and afterwards found that the nearest 
relations of the deceased were in colours. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville, in the Eastgate Street, at Gloucester. 

4 Nov, 1731. 

I hope my dearest sister is well, and my dear mama. 
I persuade myself you are, as much as I can. But 
I must leave off complaints to give you some account of 
our magnificence on the Birthday. Before I proceed I 
must tell you 'tis past one o'clock, and that we are in- 


vited to dine abroad. The Birthday, as you may re- 
member, happened on a Saturday. In the morning 
we all attended their Graces at the Castle in our best 
array, as I wrote you word after my return. Sunday we 
stayed at home ; on Monday at eight o'clock went to the 
Castle. The room where the ball was to be was ordered 
by Capt. Pierce, finely adorned with paintings and 
obelisks, and made as light as a summer's day. I never 
saw more company in one place ; abundance of finery, and 
indeed many very pretty women. There were two rooms 
for dancing. The whole apartment of the Castle was open, 
which consists of several very good rooms ; in one there 
was a supper ordered after the manner of that at the 
masquerade, where everybody went at what hour they 
liked best, and vast profusion of meat and drink, which 
you may be sure has gained the hearts of all guzzlers ! 
The Duke and Duchess broke through their reserved 
way and were very obliging ; indeed it was very hand- 
some the whole entertainment, but attended with great 
crowding and confusion. To-day we dine at Mr. Hamil- 
ton's, (my favorites) ; but of all the diversions our own 
assembly is the prettiest ; how many times do I wish for 
you ! But, alas ! that is as vain as my anxiety about the 
wind ; the latter will much sooner change than the other 
come to pass ; we had last night a great deal of com- 
pany, our cousins are constant attendants. 

Next Saturday we are all to go to see Madame A^iolante, 
and next week our ridottos will begin ; masquerades ai-e 
not talked of, but a scheme is laid for operas, which I 
hope will succeed. Yesterday Index^ took his seat in Par- 

^ " Yesterday Index took his seat." The date of this letter being 4th Nov. 
1731, has been the means of identifying the individual so often mentioned as 


liament, but opened not his moutli, but when the flame 
that burns within him breaks out, woe be to all that 
oppose him, for never was there so warm a patriot ! 
I am called upon to dress. I shall hate everybody and 
everything to-day ; was it not Enough that the packets are 
not come in, but I must be dragged from my employment 
and obliged to send you a sheet of paper scratched with 
a little incoherent stuff that wiU cost tenpence — tis pro- 

M. P. 

Dr. Walsh, in his History of the City of DubUn, says, " In the 
year 1731, Madame Violante had attempted to estabhsh a booth 
for the performance of rope-dancers, but the public were soon tired 
of the exhibition, and she converted the booth into a theatre. To 
make her performance more attractive by its novelty and singularity, 
she exhibited all theatrical pieces with a company of children under 
ten years of age. It is remarkable that the ' Beggars' Opera ' was 
first introduced to the notice of a Dublin audience by these infants ;" 
and that Margaret Woffington made her first theatrical effort among 
them in the character of Polly. " The house in which this infant 
company exhibited stood on the spot where Fownes-street is now 
(1818) built." Margaret Woffington was born in Dame-street, Dub- 
lin, in the year 1719. She was the daughter of a journeyman 
bricklayer, and attended school from her fifth to her tenth year. 
When her father was dying, she came home to assist her mother in 
the business of a washerwoman. Being seen one day fetching water 
from the Liffey by a Madame Violante, who kept a show-booth in 
Dame-street, the latter was so struck with the little Irish girl's 
beauty that she offered to engage her as an apprentica Her mother 
consenting, little Woffington was transferred to the care of Madame 
Violante, to be taught the dramatic art, and it was not long before 

" Index" as in the journals of the Irish House of Commons the Honourable 
John Perceval is stated to have taken his seat for the borough of Dingle 
Iconeh in the Co. of Kerry, on the Srd Nov., 1731. 


she was announced to play Polly, in the Beggars' Opera. Her 
reception was enthusiastic ; and continuing to perform she became 
the prop of the Booth Theatre, and was allowed a salary of 30». 
per week. She left Dublin for London, and had not been long in 
the metropolis before she was engaged by Rich, to appear at Covent 
Garden, where she made her debut in the character of Sir Harry 
Wildair — a part previously performed by her in Dublin. Her 
success was brilliant ; she played Sir Harry to crowded audiences 
for twenty-two successive nights, and on the termination of her en" 
gagement with Rich, who had given her 9/. per week, she went 
back to Dublin on a salary of 14/. Little short of adoration was 
now paid her in her native town; and, whilst on the stage she 
fascinated all, she determined to enjoy herself off it, as far as an 
equipage and other luxuries would enable her to do so. She made 
an allowaace of 20/. per annum to her mother ; and was in otlier 
respects a liberal and generous distributor of the fortune she was 

The failure of the Dublin manager, inducing her return to 
London, she accepted an engagement at Covent Garden, where she 
continued to be an admired favourite until her retirement from the 
stage in May 1757. The derangement of her health has been 
stated by some persons as a reason for her quitting the theatre; 
whilst others ascribe her renunciation of it to a sermon she had 
heard in which some errors similar to her own were very forcibly 
touched upon, and the alteration which took place in her conduct 
makes the last account the more probable one. She increased 
her mother's allowance from 20/. to 30/., and became simple in 
her dress and manners. She died retainincr all the amiable but 
none of the blameable, qualities of her early life, on the 28 th of 
May, 1760, and was buried at Teddington. 

" The music-hall in Crow-street was erected for the practice of 
Italian music, and opened on the 30th of November, 1781, with a 
ridotto. A musical society was also formed and held at the Bull's 
Head. By the subscribers to its funds, the music-hall in Fishamble- 
street was built, and the first concert held in it on the 1st of 
October, 1741. But a circumstance then occurred w^hich seemed 


to give a decided turn to the taste of the town. Handel, banished 
from England by the spirit of party, sought refuge here and found 
protection ; soon after his arrival, he performed his oratorio of the 
Messiah for the benefit of the city prison in the new music-hall, 
assisted by the violin of his friend, M. Dubourg, and he effected 
a total revolution in the music of the metropolis. Meantime 
Italian singers were invited to Dublin, and operas established with 
an eagerness equal to that displayed in England." 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Dublin, 16 Nov., 1731. 

Hope the pain in the ankle has proved itself to be a 
sprain. The gout or rheumatism you have never pro- 
voked — it would be hard indeed if you should suffer by 
those severe discipliners : distant as I am, I should share 
the anguish. A sprain is as painful for the time it lasts, 
but not so apt to return. How will the guilty suffer 
when the innocent is so attacked ? That one who leads 
as temperate a life as any nun, should be subject to dis- 
tempers that generally are the fruits of a luxurious life, 
or that you should sprain your ankle who never made a 
false step, are accidents I cannot reconcile to myself! 

You guess very rightly, your favourite Miss Wesley 
performs miracles at the Castle, and is by much the best 
dancer there. You may imagine such a little pretty 
creature does not want for praises : were I her mother, I 
should not expose her to so many, she is of an age to be 
spoiled by them, unless she has an uncommon share of 
sense. Mr. and Mrs. Wesley receive your compliments 
very kindly, and heartily return theirs. Nothing can be 
worse than the present condition of the Charitable Cor- 


poration. I fear the books will be of little use to them. 
I am grieved for our friends in Grosvenor Square ;^ not 
so much on account of the fortune they have lost, as for 
the trouble they are in at the reflections cast on the 
Directors ; but I still believe our friend has not acted a 
dishonest part but he has been basely imposed upon. 
Bess was lucky enough to sell out two days before the ruin 
fell. Sir Dingledy Couch is so intoxicated with politics 
and parliamentary affairs, that he has hardly leisure to 
receive a compliment, much less return one ; but he looks 
pleased when I tell him you remember him. 

No, madam, I do not dance in evety croud, though I 
always have an agreeable partner at hand, and I did not 
dance on the Birthuight. Next Monday, being St. 
Cecilia's day, it is to be celebrated in the morning at St. 
Patrick's church, with Powell's Te Deum and somebody's 
Anthem, but I don't know who's, and some of CorelH's 
concertos, all performed w^ith instruments. At night Lord 
Mountjoy gives a ball to the Duke and Duchess of Dor- 
set ; he has invited my cousins, and told them he designed 
to ask me. Poor Puss ! and has she lost her tail ? I 
lament the disaster : had I a poet at command an elegy 
should soon be produced. 

I esteem Mr. Foley, without having any other know- 
ledge of him than what you have given me. I dare say 
his fondness to his wife will increase as her qualities are 
of that nature to engage the more the better they are 
known. I wish I had Sally's letter on that occasion. I 
love her sprightly wdt, and admire her grave sense. At last 
I found an opportunity of writing to her. I long for n 
letter in return, to know her fate in regard to the 

' Sir Rubert Sutton and Lady Sunderland. 


lottery. I will endeavour to get a good answer to your 
musical question, but Sally is the best definer. 

Do you ever write to Lord Lansdown ? I have heard 
not only from him, but from my lady, who is, at 
present, in a fond fit ; your cousins desire their compli- 
ments to you, they are constant attendants here every 
Wednesday ; yesterday they dined with us. I was at 
Court with them on Tuesday, and danced one country- 
dance, but the heat and crowd were so intolerable that 
I soon quitted that sport, and made the best of my way 
home. The Bishop has gone to bed. Mrs. Usher, her son 
and daughter, dine here to-day, and in the afternoon we 
all go to Mrs. Butler's, where we are to spend the evening. 
She is a very good-humoured, agreeable woman, and her 
husband a plain, rough, merry officer, who doats on his 
wife, and admires everybody that likes her. 

The ball at Mrs. Graham's^ will be next week I 
believe. Humphrey Matthews' asked particularly after 
you ; he is but just come to town. We are soon to have 
a story-telling evening : who shall I wish for to listen to 
him, I wonder ? Mr. Barnard was here last night at 
our assembly (which was as much crowded as ever I saw 
my Lady Stafford's, and more agreeable, except in one 
respect, which you will not be at a loss to guess at) ; he 
is very conceited and silly, and said many things he 

^ Mary, second daughter of George Lord Lansdowne, married in 1730, 
William Graham, Esq., of Flatten ; died in November, 1735. 

2 The Mathew family resided atRadyr, in the county of Glamorgan, South 
Wales, in the year 1660, after which George Mathew settled at Thurles, in 
the county of Tipperary. His father's family once possessed the town of Llan- 
daff, and one of his descendants married Margaret, fourth daughter of Thomas 
Butler, Esq., of Kilcash. Francis Mathew, Esq., of Thoniastown, was created 
Baron Llandaff, 12th October, 1783, and Earl of Llandaff in November, 1797. 
The earldom became extinct on the death of his son, 12tli March, 1833. 


intended to be taken for svit. He jeered me extremely 
upon liking Ireland, and had he been an Englishman I 
should have thought him very rude, for saying so many 
disobliging things of a place where I am so civilly treated, 
Phill gave him a rub or two about the lamps in Pall 
Mall that would not burn bright for him, and he had 
not much to say for himself I have sent you the verses J 
I promised, and will endeavour to get more — they are ( 
Mr. Pilkington's. Pray do you ever write to Miss 
Carteret ? I keep up a correspondence with Lord "Wey- 
mouth — he is too kind a friend to slight. 

I wish that my mama and you could be brought here 
in your sleep, without the trouble of sea and land. 
Your affectionate and constant 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Qranvitte. 

Dublin, Nov. 25, 1731. 

I must teU you all that has passed since my writing 
to you last, which was on Thursday. I believe I told 
you then that we were to spend the evening at Mrs. 
Butler's. Mrs. Usher, her son and daughter, gave us 
the meeting. There was a table of quadrdle,^ and one of 
commerce, of which party was your humble servant. We 
had a very genteel supper, and were very merry and 
easy. On Friday we went to the Castle; there was 
a great deal of company ; that day we dined at Dr. 
Madden's, who always enquires after you. Mr. and 
Mrs. Wesley were there, they never omit asking how 

^ Quadrille, a game played by four persons, with forty cards, which are the 
remains of a pack, after the four tens, nines, and eights are discarded. 


you do, and my good friend Mrs. Wesley joins heartily 
in wishing you here ; Saturday we staid at home the 
greatest part of the day. I eloped for an hour or two to 
make a visit to a young lady^ who is just recovered of 
the small-pox. I think I never saw a prettier creature 
than she was before that maUcious distemper seized her, 
— a gay, good-humoured, innocent girl, without the least 
conceit of her beauty ; her father has been dead about 
six months, a worthless man that has left a very un- 
certain fortune ; she paints delightfully. All the men 
were dying whilst she was in danger, but, notwith- 
standing their admiration of her, not one of them will 
be generous enough to marry her while the lawsuit is 
pending ; now, indeed, even their adoration will cease, 
they will not acknowledge her for a divinity since she is 
divested of those charms that occasioned their devo- 
tion. Sunday to church we went — staid at home all the 
afternoon, Mrs, Percival and Mrs. Usher of the company. 
Monday being St. Cecilia's Day it was celebrated with 
great pomp at St. Patrick's Cathedral. We were there 
in the greatest crowd I ever saw ; we went at 10 and 
staid till 4 ; there is a very fine organ, which was 
accompanied by a great many instruments, Dubourg at 
the head of them; they began with the 1st concerto 
of Corelli ; we had PurceU's Te Deum and Jubilate ; 
then the 5th concerto of Corelli ; after that an anthem 
of Dr. Blow's, and they concluded with the 8th 

* Letitia Bushe was the young lady here mentioned as recovering from the 
small pox. The friendship which then commenced with Mary Granville, con- 
tinued to the end of her life, which closed long before that of Mrs. Delany. 
The beaiity then supposed to have been destroyed must afterwards have been 
regained, if we may judge by her portrait in after years, where the beauty of 
the complexion equals the regularity of the features, and the sweetness smd 
intelligence of their expression. 


concerto of Corelli. Perhaps you think this was en- 
tertainment enough for one day ; pardon me, we are not 
here so easily satisfied as to let one diversion serve for 
the whole day and we double and treble them. Lord 
Montjoy^ made a fine ball for the Duke and Duchess of 
Dorset and their retinue, our house was among the 
invited people, and Monday was the day fixed on. 

After our music we returned home, eat our dinner as • 
expeditiously as we could, and by seven (the hour named) 
we were aU equipped for the ball; Mrs. Graham, Miss 
Granville, and Miss Usher called on us, and we all went 
away together, nobody was admitted but by tickets. 
There was four-and-twenty couple, 12 danced at a 
time, and when they had danced 2 dances, the other 
12 took their turn. No lookers on but the Duchess 
and Mrs. Clayton, who thought it beneath the 
dignity of a Bishop's wife to dance. The Duke 
danced with Lady Allen (the Duchess had the head- 
ache) Lord Mountjoy with Lady Caroline,^ Mr. Coot \ 
with Lady Lambert, Capt. Pierce with Mrs. DoneUan, 
and Mr. Usher with me ; the rest were people you don't 
know at all ; Index would not condescend to dance 
more than minuets. Before the dancing began, the 
company were all served with tea and cofiee ; at 9, 
every lad took out his lass. At 11, those who were not 
dancing followed the Duke and Duchess up stairs to 
a room where was prepared all sorts of cold meats, 

^ Thomas Windsor, 1st Viscount Windsor in Ireland, younger son of 
Thomas, 1st Earl of Plymouth, descended from Andrews Windsor, 1st Baron 
Windsor, by Elizabeth, sister and co-heir of Edward, 2nd Baron Montjoy. 
Created Baron Montjoy of the Isle of Wight, 1st Jan, 1711 ; died 1738. 

3 Lady Caroline Sackville, youngest daughter of Lionel, Duke of Dorset. 
She married Joseph Damer, Esq., who in June 1753, was created Lord 


fruits, sweetmeats, and wines, placed after the same 
manner as the masquerades. We eat and drank as much 
as we liked, and then descended to make way for the 
rest of the company. Mrs. Clayton went away at 12, 
the Duchess soon after that, and Phil and I staid till 1, 
and then with much difficulty made our escapes, the 
rest staid till 4 in the morning. On the whole, the 
entertainment was more handsome than agreeable, 
there being too much company. 

The next morning we rose at 9 o'clock, put on our 
genteel dishabille, and went to the Parliament House, at 
11, to hear an election determined : the parties were 
Brigadier Parker the sitting member, and Mr. Ponsonby 
the petitioner, Mr. Southwell's interest was the first, 
and the last was Sir R*^ Mead's. 1 believe we were 
the most impartial hearers among all the ladies that 
were there, though rather inclined to Mr. Southwell's 
side, but the cause was determined in favour of Sir R. 
M's. I was very well entertained there. Our cousins 
were also there. About 3 o'clock Mrs. Clayton went 
home to dinner with her Bishop ; we were stout, and 
staid. Mr. Hamilton, a gentleman I have mentioned to 
you, brought us up chickens, and ham, and tongue, and 
everything we could desire. At 4 o'clock the speaker 
adjourned the House 'till 5. We then were conveyed, 
by some gentlemen of our acquaintance, into the Usher 
of the Black Rod's room, where we had a good fire, 
&c., and meat, tea, and bread and butter. Were we 
not well taken care of? 

When the House was assembled, we re -assumed our 
seats and staid till 8 ; loth was 1 to go away then, but I 
thought that my kind companions were tired, and staid 


out of a compliment to me, so home we came, not a little 
fatigued with what we had undergone for two days to- 
gether. Yesterday our assembly, to-day we shall spend 
peaceably by our own fireside, and talk over the passed 
hurries. Miss Forth's two sisters come to town, who are 
to be introduced to me to-day, 'tis one of them^ that 
paints so finely. I believe I did not write you word that 
Mrs. Foster is parted from her husband. Dean Berkeley'* 
and his family are returned to England ; they are not at 
Greenwich. They talk of coming to Dublin early in the 
spring ; I wish they may for I want to be acquainted 
with him. Mrs. Barber is still in England, she has not 
yet published her works ; I wish she may not spend 
more money in pursuing this afiair than the subscription 
will answer. 

Adieu, my dear sister, — how I long for the packets ! 
'Tis terribly cold, but I wish for an easterly wind, though 
it would make me ten times colder; I know then I 
should have my heart warmed by some expressions of 
yours, without which I could hardly live, or live miserably, 
like the poor creatures in Greenland, when they lose 
their sun. 

Yours for ever, 


' The lady here mentioned was Dorothy, daughter and co-heir of James 
Forth, of Redwood, King's County, Esq., better known under the name of 
Mrs. Hamilton, whose paintings of flowers and insects are unrivalled. She 
married, in October, 1733, the Hon. and Rev. Francis Hamilton, son to the 
Earl of Abercom. 

' Dean Berkeley, afterwards the celebrated Bishop of Cloyne, a cadet of the 
family of Earl Berkeley. His learning and virtues, his vsit and agreeable con- 
versation, made his friendship sought and his acquaintance cultivated by 
many learned men, and amongst others by the Earl of Peterborough, Dr. Swift, 
Dr. Arbuthnot, Pope, and Addison. He was made Dean of Derry in 1724, 
and married in August, 1728, Anne, eldest daughter of the Right Hon. John 
Foster, Speaker of the Irish House of Commons. 


Lord Montjoy's ball, which was limited to twenty-four couple, 
who danced in turn, affords a good example to the ball-givers of 
the present day, where dancing is rendered the exception at balls, in 
consequence of the total disregard which is paid to the proportion 
between space and numbers. Dancing in 1731 appears to have 
been a real enjoyment, and an invitation to darice was a reality ^ 
and not a fiction. It is, however, to be hoped that the excessive 
absurdity of invitations to an amusement of which it is impossible 
that nine-tenths of the company can be partakers, will at last 
occasion a reform, and that instead of everybody supposing it 
necessary to spend many hundred pounds in giving one over- 
crowded assembly, where breathing is difficult, and moving next 
to impossible, that somebody may set the fashion of giving a 
succession of dancing parties with very simple refreshments, by 
which means their houses need never be overcrowded, while all 
the guests might really enjoy some amusement. This need not 
prevent magnificent entertainments and enormous gatherings 
wherever the owners have tlie will, and the power to provide an 
area large enough conveniently to receive all their acquaintance at 
once, although such entertainments would necessarily be confined 
to a minority. 

The following letter, written by Dr. Delany to Mrs. Clayton, 
afterwards Lady Sundon, although it has already appeared in the 
Memoirs of Lady Sundon, may be properly introduced at this 
period. The letter has no date of year, but as Mrs. Barber, "the 
Poetess," was in London in 1731 to obtain subscriptions to her 
poems, and she was at tliat time suspected of having written an 
anonymous letter to Queen Caroline against Mrs. Clayton, and 
another in praise of herself, signed " Jonathan Swift," the letter of 
Dr. Delany must have been written about that period. 


Dr. Delany to Mrs. Clayton. 

February 27. Z' 


I take up my pen with some reluctance, yet under 
an irresistible impulse, to write to you, though upon a 
subject where persons of more consequence have failed ; 
yet no way discouraged, but rather excited, by their ill 

You have, madam, in a way very honourable and 
very exemplary, eased one good mind of misery, relieved 
one good genius from the load of life, and placed im- 
provement and happiness of every kind within his reach. 
But can one instance of this kind fill up the measure of 
your beneficence ? Does the doing honour to one good 
genius do justice to your own? No, madam, you think 
too justly and too largely to imagine it can. You know 
that every human creature that equally deserves, has an 
equal claim to your beneficence, and that nothing but 
want of merit in them, or abiHty in jou, can acquit you 
of the claim. Nor need you be told that distress is 
merit, and distress undeserved the greatest. 

It is upon these principles that I now beseech your 
protection for one who hath laboured more years than 
Duck hath lived, in a course of upright, obliging, well 
guided, and unwearied, though unsuccessfull industry : 
in an exemplary education of a numerous issue , in one 
continued series of good advice, and good offices of every 
kind, to the whole world round her, who never turned 
away her face from any poor man in miserj^, and was 
dways ready in the very letter of the command, if it 
vere possible, to draw out her very soul to the hungry ; 
his woman on the verge of fifty, with an hereditary gout, 

VOL. I. Y 


cough, and asthina, with a load of four children, excel- 
lently educated, perfectly well-disposed, and utterly un- 
provided for, sues for your protection, and is refused, and 
refused, too, with apparent justice ; she has injured you, 
(you say) and appearances are for you. 

She hath wrote, it is said, two letters to the Queen, 
one in abuse of you, without a name, and another in 
praise of herself, in the name of Dr. Swift ; by the 
last, she hath to my knowledge, entirely lost his friend- 
ship, and by the former all hope of yours. As to Dr. 
Swift, I shall content myself to tell you I know her 
innocent ; but, as to you, I shall not attempt to acquit 
her, let the imputation rest upon her with all its weight. 
It is for that reason, and under that very circumstance, I 
claim your protection for her. And I claim it as the 
noblest occasion your virtue ever did, or ever will find 
to exert itself to advantage ; it is perhaps the severest 
trial to which a Christian spirit can be exposed, but you 
must own it is at the same time the noblest opportunity 
of triumph it can ever hope for. Your injury is public, 
and your good offices will,, for that very reason, be illus- 
trious tenfold. 

Your character wanted this occasion to complete it, 
and providence hath been signally indulgent in throwing 
it in your way. I speak lowly of it, when I venture to 
pronounce, that it will not be your least honour with the 
present age, nor your least praise with posterity. Could 
I think less highly of you than I do, I had taken a quite 
contrary method, I had vindicated Mrs. Barber's inno- 
cence, and treated her supposed calumny as monstrous 
and incredible, and laid before you, in the fullest lightj 
the merit of supporting a woman of so much worth, 


whose least praise was writing (in the intervals of busi- 
ness) a volume of excellent poems, with more good 
sense, true taste, and a righter turn of thinking, than 
any woman of her own, or perhaps of any age. But 
then in acting thus, you must own I had treated you 
upon the foot of a common, at least no very uncommon 
character. Whereas, at present I have treated you up 
to my own idea of your dignity, and to all the height of 
my esteem ; and in doing this, I have given you so fair an 
occasion of unexampled beneficence, as will be a sure 
source of solid satisfaction to you, when all the vanities 
of this world shall forsake you, or you them. 

It is true, madam, in doing this I have risked the 
honour of your acquaintance, and give me leave to say, I 
know the value of what I risk. Yet I would not enjoy 
the greatest honour I ever had or hoped for, upon the 
terms of a less open or less upright freedom, upon every 
just occasion. And if ever there was a just, an upright, 
and an honourable occasion, this is, and is in the place 
of ten thousand proofs how much I am, 

Madam, your faithful servant, 

P. Delant. 

P.S. Give me leave to add this short postscript, to 
assure you, that no mortal knows of this letter, or ever 
shall from me, treat it as you will. 

There is no doubt that Mrs. Barber eventually proved her 
innocence to the satisiaction of both her patrons, Dr. Swift and 
Dr. Delany. 



Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Qranville. 

Dublin, 4tli Deer. 1731. 

My eyes are perfectly well again, and always at your 
service, my dearest sister. I should have wrote to you 
last post, but I was to go to a ball at the Grrahams, and I 
was afraid of making too much use of my eyes, lest I 
should dim their lustre, but I need not have been so 
careful, for there was not a man worth darting at. Our 
company was as follows : Lord Charles Hay, Mrs. 
Graham, Mr. Graham, and Mrs. Hancock (Miss Vesey 
that was, I believe you saw her at the Bath). He 
was to have danced with me, but Mrs. Hancock's 
husband is so jealous of her, that she must not dance 
with an unmarried man. Sir Richard Mead danced 
with Miss Kelly, who keeps her beauty very well. 

The rest of the men are not worth naming, poor dull 
wretches, very ill chosen I am sure. I wanted my 
good partner Mr. Usher ; in his stead I had Captain 
FoUiat, a man six foot odd inches high, black, awkward, 
ramping, roaring, &c. I thought he would have shook 
my arms off, and crushed my toes to atoms, every moment 
he did some blundering thing, and as often asked " my 
ladyship's pardon." I was pitied by the whole company ; 
at last I was resolved to dispatch him with dancing 
since he was not worth my conquest any other way ; I 
called a council about it, having some scruples of con- 
science, and fearing he might appear and haunt me after 
his death staggered my resolutions, but when it was 
made plain to me that I should do the world a great 
piece of service by despatching him, it solved all my 
scruples, and I had no more qualms about it. In the 


midst of his furious dancing, when he was throwing his 
arms about him most outrageously (just like a card 
scaramouch on a stick), snap went something, that we all 
thought had been the main bone of his leg, but it proved 
only a bone of his toe. Notwithstanding which (like 
Widdington) he fought upon his stumps, and would not 
spare me one dance ; we began pegging it at eight, 
and continued our sport till one, without ceasing. 

I was almost dead yesterday, I never was so much 
fatigued with dancing in my life, but I am very well to- 
day, and am to go to a concert of musick for Mrs. Bar- 
bier's benefit ; it is half-an-hour after three, and I fear I 
shall be called before I have filled my sheet of paper. I 
hope you do not neglect your harpsichord, especially 
thorough-base. I have a great many thanks to return 
you for your letters : how happy they do make me ! I 
have not received one this week. I have had a letter from 
Mrs. Foley ; I take it very kindly of her to remember 
me at a time when she has so many things to take up 
her time ; I every day lament your loss of those good- 
humoured agreeable women ; I am very sensible how 
great a difference there is between their conversation, 
and most of those that they have left behind them. 

There's an end of our hopes of operas ; but last Monday 
we had a ridotto, which everybody liked very well. I 
was not there, my eyes being out of order. The gentle- 
men subscribed two moiders ^ a piece, and have two 
tickets each night to dispose of to ladies. There are in 
this town two subscription concerts on that footing, so 
that the women are at no expence for their entertainments, 

' Moidores. 


Is not that polite ? Phill says you are too good n 
creature for remembering her so kindly ; she is even with 
you, and has her white satin hood in great esteem for 
your sake. She wore her green satin that is embroi- 
dered with gold and silver on the Birthday, and I had a 
blue and white satin that I bought in England, and 
a new laced head. 

Do you pity me for reading three letters of yours in 
one day ? Why do you not pity me, that I have health 
and happiness — that I taste the sweets of friendship, and 
that you love me ? Pity me for all the blessings I 
enjoy, if I deserve compassion on the score you mention ! 
Who is the favourite ? Col. B. I suppose, the tupee 
beau. I have a very cheerful letter from Lady Sunder- 
land ; she says she has got the better of her loss, that 
she is very well assured of Sir Robert Sutton's in- 
nocence, though he has been very unfortunate, and the 
world is always ready to judge in the worst way of acci- 
dents of that nature. 

I can only turn over a new leaf to assure my dearest 
sister that I am ever hers, M. P. 

Lady Betty Germain writes as follows to Dr. Swift, January 
11th, 1731-2, in reference to the Miss Kelly whose beauty is 
alluded to by Mrs. Pendarves in the above letter : — 

" Miss Kelly was a very pretty girl when she went from hence, 
and the beaux show their good taste by liking her. I hear her 
father is now kind to her, bat if she is not mightily altered, she 
would give up some of her airs and equipage to live in England." 

On the 1st of May, 1733, Lady Betty Germain lurther 
says : — 

" I am extremely Mrs. Kelly's humble servant, but I will never 
believe she is more valued for her beauty and good qualities in 
Ireland than she was in Eny-land." 


Mrs. Pendarvts to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Dublin, 9 Dec. 1731. 

I wrote to you last Saturday and gave you an account 
of all that had happened till that time. That night we 
went to Mrs. Barbier's benefit, which was not very full. 
She sings well, with a bad voice, but having at home an 
entertainment so excellent in that way, I cannot say I 
can bear any other singing. After the concert was over, 
some young ladies begged of us to go to Mrs. Southby's 
(a charitable assembly). After much persuasion we were 
prevailed with, and away we went, played one pool of 
commerce, and were at home by half an hour after ten. 
Index makes one with us wherever we go, and sometimes 
adds greatly to our entertainment, for he is certainly the 
oddest creature that ever was born, but has very extra- 
ordinary sense. Sunday morning went to church, spent 
the evening at Doctor Van Luens.^ I believe I have 
mentioned that family to you before : they are sensible 
and cheerfuU. It was proposed by Mrs. Van Luen that 
everybody should own what quality they valued them- 
selves most for, and afterwards, what they most disliked 
in themselves ; this fancy made us very merry, and 
made our conversation not unlike some in Clelia. 

On Monday Miss Donellan and I went in the afternoon 
to Mrs. Hamilton's, Mrs. Clayton staid at home with her 
love. We supped abroad and staid till near one, I never 
saw a couple I liked better ; she says she never had the 
least wrangle with her husband in her life, for she 
always yields to liim in great matters, and he never will 

Dr. Vanlewin was a physician, born at Dublin, and practising his profes- j 
siou there. Letitia Pilkiugton was the daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Vanlewin. / 


dispute little things with her. If that state could be envied, 
I think it can only be when it is such as they make it. 
They are sensible, cheerful, well bred, and very friendly 
in their behaviour, have a small fortune, several children, 
and live as comfortably as any people in Dublin. On 
Tuesday Phill and I went to the Castle, got a very snug 
seat in the ball-room, and made ourselves very merry 
with some good figures that exposed themselves there. 
I am out of conceit with dancing at the Castle — it is so 
intolerably crowded. Yesterday was our day, we had 
a good deal of company, my table is flocked to, and is 
generally made up of beauties, excepting your humble 
servant. Lord Charles Hay^ has made acquaintance with 
me as a thing whose face he was used to in London ; I 
am jeered about it, and so I am upon some other things 
of that kind. 

Last Monday Mr. Bernard gave a ball; the wretch 
did not think fit to invite me, and I was not sorry, 
for I have a great distaste to him, he is so intolerably 
affected, no lady was ever more so ; and he thinks to 
recommend himself to me by rallying Ireland and all its 
diversions. I have too much gratitude to find fault 
with anything that treats me kindly, were there room 
for it, but I protest I never was in a place that more 
deservedly claims my good word than this I am now 
in. To-morrow we go to a concert of music, on 
Saturday to the poppet-show, on Monday to the ridotto ; 
but I find all these amusements cannot employ my mind 
so much as to make me forget how large a tract of land 

* Lord Charles Hay, second son of Charles, 3rd Marquess of Tweeddale, Lord 
Charles was a major-general in the army ; he died unmarried in May, 1760 ; 
he was brother to the Marquess of Tweeddale, who married Lady Frances 


and sea divides tis, and that it must be some months 
before there can be a possibihty of our meeting ; when I 
indulge that tliought it overcomes my spirits too much. 
Tell me how French and thorough bass thrive with you ? 
they are good companions, and deserve your favour. 
Mr. and Mrs. Westley are in the country for a few days ; 
they are much at your service ; after Xmas I go to 
Flatten, Mr. Graham's countrey-house, 20 miles from 
Dublin. We are to spend a fortnight there : they 
design inviting as much company to go down with them 
as will make 6 couple for country dances, and we are 
to dance every night. I hope Mrs. Viney and all her 
family are well, and Mrs. Butler, when you heard from 
her. Do you ever hear from Figgy? Col. Fyat asks 
after her very often ; he is one of the Duke of Dorset's 
aide-de-camps, and a constant attendant on our assembly 
and the commerce table. The Bishop is just come home ; 
dinner is called; you never mention Dr. Greville and 
his fair lady ; in what degree of esteem do they now 
stand with you ? 

Mrs. Pendaroes to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

DubUn, Dec. 14, 1731. 
Your kind and tender sentiments never fail of giving 
me the delight you mean they should, nor can any 
pleasure make me amends for the reaction I endure when 
I am robbed of that satisfaction by the perverseness of 
the winds ; we have very little frost here, it never lasts 
above two or three days. I hope the weather is mended 
at Glo'ster since you last wrote to me. 'Tis pity your 
faculties should suffer ; but though the cold affects your 
outside, I can always depend on the warmth of your 


heart. Poor St. Cecilia I she would have a sad time of it 
were she to listen to some of the performances that 
are offered in honour to her. I wish music was on a 
better foot, or more properly speaking in better hands 
than it now is at Glo'ster : your ears were designed for 
more dehcate entertainments than you meet with, 'tis 
well that your eyes make you some amends. What 
does the Grrand Druid mean ? 

Archbishop Usher was great-uncle to Mr. Usher, 
my partner, and a great honor to their family, which was a 
very considerable one. The story of the farmer's 
daughter is a very remarkable one : we have had a 
wedding lately, too, Lord Meath,^ a man of good sense 
and great fortune, who was married unfortunately when he 
was a boy to his aunt's chambermaid. He never lived 
with her, and she died about a month ago. Yesterday he 
married Miss Pendergrass, sister to Sir Tho^ Pender- 
grass : he has been in love with her several years ; 
she has little or no fortune, and is far from handsome. 

I always thought that Miss Yate had a good deal of 
artifice in her in regard to the Insect, but I believe sIjc 
will be bit there, if she builds any hopes of fixing him. 
I cannot quite give him up ; his father keeps him in 
great awe, and he is unsettled in his opinions. Are you 
certain that he is to have Miss Stanhope, or did you only 
say it to her maliciously ? I suppose you will see Puzzle 
at Xmas. Mrs. Barber, I hear, does not design to 
leave England, but is to settle with her family at Bath : 
her husband, who is a woollen-draper, is to carry on his 

> Chaworth, 6th Earl of Meath, married in 1731, Juliana, daughter of Sir 
Thomas Prendergast. He died without issue in 1758, and was succeeded by 
his only brother, Edward, 7th Earl. 


business, and she will let lodgings ; her works are not yet 
printed, nor do I hear when they will be. I am making 
interest in getting off some subscriptions for Mr. Hook,^ 
the gentleman that wrote the English of the Travels 
of Cyrus. He is now going to publish an abridgment 
of the Roman History, taken from the Jesuits ; in 
the original there are 16 volumes, he reduces it to 4 
octavos. The subscription is a guinea. Perhaps Mr. 
Hyett and some few more will like to subscribe, if so, I 
can convey some receipts to you ; the work is done in 
England ; my Lord Lansdowne desired me to be zealous 
about it — it is what he recommends very much. Poor 
Mrs. Shuttle worth has lost by the C/iaritable Corpora- 
tion every farthing she was worth in the world, which I 
am sure you will be sorry for — she has been very un- 
fortunate. By some lucky accident last winter she met 
with the play of the Lost Lady'* — ^you heard Mrs. Dun- 
comb and Sir Thomas Hanmer^ speak of it. She has 
sent it over to us to try to get it performed, and for her 

1 Nathaniel Hooke, author of an esteemed " Roman History," translator of 
" Ramsay's Travels of Cyrus," and a " History of the Life of the Archbishop of 
Cambray," and editor of " An Account of the Conduct of the Dowager-Duchess 
of Marlborough, from her first coming to Court to the year 1710, in a letter 

from herself to Lord , in 1742." This was dictated to him by the 

Duchess, while she was still in bed. She delivered to him, without any 
notes, her account, in the most lively as well as connected manner, and con- 
tinued dictating for six hours, aud would have continued longer had she not 
perceived that Mr. Hooke was quite exhausted, and wanted rest and refresh- 
ment. So eager was she for the completion of the work, that she insisted on 
Mr. Hooke's not leaving her house till he had finished it. This was done in 
a short time, and her grace was so well pleased with the performance, that 
she complimented the author with a present of 5000/. Mr.Hooke died in 1764. 

■ The Lost Lady ; Tragi-Com., by Sir William Barclay, 1638. 

3 Sir Thomas Hanmer was lx)rn 1676, at Bettisfield in Flintshire. He was 
the son of William, born at Angers in France, in the time of the Commonwealth, 
and of his wife Peregrine North, of Mildenhall in Suffolk. He sat more than 
thirty years in the House of Commons, and was chosen Speaker in 1712. Sir 


to have the S** night. I heartily wish we may bring 
it to bear ; for she has many friends here who will exert 
themselves upon that occasion ; but we do not design to 
speak of it till it is just ready to publish. 

Index speaks like an orator in the House of Commons, 
and is so much involved in politics, that you must not 
be surprised he has not paid his devoirs to you ; for I 
assure you he is so far from remembering those that are 
absent, that he hardly sees those that he is every day 
with; and if we ask him any common question, he 
answers *' such a bill is to be brought into the House," 
" such a member is a glorious patriot, another is an enemy 
to his country," all other subjects are shut out from his 
remembrance. Yesterday Phill and I went to the 
ridotto with a whole train of young things at our heels. 
I like it the least of any diversion I have seen here. 
There was a vast deal of company, two rooms of dancers ; 
above 20 couple in each room. I danced with Mr. 
Usher 2 dances, and had like to have been torn limb 
from limb ; the Duke of Dorset was there, and Lady 
Caroline Sackville ; the Duchess is very ill of a fever. 
"We staid till 12 o'clock ; Index came home with us by 
way of a guard. 

Pray how does your Pussey do? I forget whetlier 
or not I wrote you word of a pretty kitten my 

Thomas was also a man of letters, of which his edition of Shakspeare, published 
at Oxford, remains the best memorial. He married first, in 1G98, Isabella, the 
first Duchess of Grafton, who was left early a widow by the death of the 
Duke at the sie^e of Cork. She was in her own right Countess of Arlington : 
secondly, Elizabeth, only daughter and heir of Thomas Folkes, Esq., of 
Barton, Suffolk. Sir Thomas died in 1746 without issue, when his north 
estates descended to the issue of his sister. Lady Bunbury, and his Flintshire 
estates to his cousins of his own name. The baronetcy of James the First ex- 


Lady Ross has given me ; it is like Ermion that you 
liad at Ealing, but more playful than any of its kind. 
Do you ever lieai' from Poor Badge ? I wrote to her, 
but I fear she was angry with me that I did not do 
it sooner. Last week I had a very obliging, enter- 
taining letter from Sir John Stanley ; four sides of paper 
filled. Was not that a particular favour ? Adieu ! I am 
called to breakfast. Do you ever hear anything of Sir 
Anthony Wescomb? 

Mrs. Pendarws to Mrs. Ann OranvQle. 

Dublin, 17 Jany. 1731-2. 

Would it were so, that I went ravaging and slaying 
all odious men, and that would go near to clear the world 
of that sort of animal ; you know I never had a good 
opinion of them, and every day my dislike strengthens ; 
some few I will except, but veri/ feiv, they have so des- 
picable an opinion of women, and treat them by their 
words and actions so ungenerously and inhumanly. By 
my manner of inveighing, anybody less acquainted with 
me than yourself would imagine I had ver^ lately received 
some very ill usage. No ! 'tis my general observation 
on conversing with them : the minutest indiscretion in 
a woman (though occasioned by themselves), never fails 
of being enlarged into a notorious crime ; but men are 
to sin on without limitation or blame ; a hard case ! — not 
the restraint we are under, for that I extremely approve 
of, but the unreasonable license tolerated in the men. 
How amiable, how noble a creature is man when adorned 
with virtue ! but how detestable when loaded with vice ! 

Yesterday was our Assembly, and a notable one we had. 


as full as it could hold. Mrs. Donellan and I have each of 
us made a brown stuff' mantcau and petticoat, and have 
worn them twice at the assemblies ; pretty things they 
have produced ; 'tis said now that people are convinced 
^' fine feathers do not make fine birds. ""^ We " adorn our 
clothes ,*" other people are " adorned by their clothes^ We 
gave sixteen pence a yard ! I wish I could convey a suit 
to you, but they are prohibited ; however I will, when I 
return, try if I can cheat for you. This afternoon we 
are to have music — Barbier to sing duets with Phillo- 
mell (something Hke a raven and a nightingale.) Sir 
Ealph Gore, Speaker of the House of Commons, is to be 
here ; Mr. Usher (who, by-the-by, is given me for a 
husband by the tattle of the town) ; Mr. Coot, Mr. Ha- 
milton and his lady. All thoughts are now laid aside of the 
opera, for the Bishop of Killdare will not give the choir. 

Mrs. Pendarves to her sister Mrs. Ann OranviUe. 

Dublin, 3d Feb., 1731-32. 

I am sorry my dearest sister has such frequent returns 
of the headache. I was in hopes the mustard-seed had 
been of service to you ; pray use a great deal of exercise, 
and take hartshorn constantly. I believe in time you 
will find more benefit from that than anything ; but lose 
no opportunity of walking or riding every day, when the 
weather will permit you ; remember that in taking care 
of yourself, you preserve the life and happiness of one 

* Irish poplin, which Mrs. Pendarves (after she became Mrs. Delany) 
brought into fashion at the Irish Court. Lady Betty Germain writes as fol- 
lows about the Duchess of Dorset to Dean Swift, Nov. 4, 1731. "I mightily 
approve of my duchess being dressed in your manufacture. If your ladirs 
will follow her exnmplo in all things, they cannot do amiss." 


who I know is not indifferent to you. I prescribe to you 
the method I pursue, every day that is tolerable, Phill 
and I walk three times round Stephen's Green, which is 
two English miles. I never had my health better than 
since being here. They make mighty good gloves here ; 
but I shall not be able to send you any ; they are pro- 

Last Saturday my cousins came from Plattin ; I went 
to them on Sunday-night. Miss Granville has got a very 
handsome French stuff from France, that her brother^ has 
made her a present of. He lives very magnificently at 
Paris, ViUiers is with him, and is his domestic chaplain ; 
how much will he improve from so worthy a preceptor (!) 
I don't hear that any time is fixed for his return home. 
Monday we spent at home ; and in the evening had an 
assembly of our prettiest men — Mr. Percival, Mr. Frank 
Hamilton (the clergyman),^ Mr. Coot, Mr. Will. Usher. 
We sang and talked, and were very good company. Tues- 
day were invited to eat oysters at Mr. Pilkington's, and 
went accordingly, every woman was to take a man. Mrs. 
Clayton took Index ; Mrs. Don, Frank Hamilton : my 
man was to have been Mr. Usher, but he basely deserted 
me ; so by way of revenge, I seized on Phill's partner ; 
secured him to myself the whole night, and leiPt her to 
take care of herself, which she knows how to do as well 
as any of them all, but nothing less serves her proud 
spirit than an Archbishop or a General I At present she 
has the last in her power, his fortune, quality, temper, 
unexceptionable, (this is no joke,) while I must for- 
sooth be contented with a poor curate ! We were not 

' Lord Weymouth. 

2 The Hon. ami Kev. Francis Hamilton^ son to the Gth Earl of Alercom. 


very merry at Mr. Pilkington's till after supper, when 
our spirits danced, and im sung most harmoniously. 

I have enclosed you a poem to insert in our book, you 
must not give a copy of it to anybody. I dare not tell 
you the author, who, I believe you will think, has no 
reason to be ashamed of the piece. I sent you last post 
The Grand Question debated, a poem by Swift : I hope 
you have received it safely, and I am endeavouring to get 
some more entertainment for you. Miss Bush is abroad 
again, and comes very often to us : she has lost her fine 
complexion, but her eyes have not received any damage^ 
but are lively and sweet ; she has many agreeable waj's 
with her, and would please you, I am sure. I believe 
I told you she has a fine genius for painting ; she is 
hard at work for me, she paints both in oil and water- 
colours. I have enclosed you a little scrap of her drawing, 
which she scratched out by candlelight in a minute. I 
hope you draw sometimes. I fancy if you copied some 
landscapes, and did them in Indian ink, you would like 
it better than faces. I am sure, with very little applica- 
tion, you would do them very well ; but copy only from 
the best prints. 

Mrs. Fmdarves to Mrs. Ann Oranvitte in the East Oate Street, Qlocester, 


Bess has had a sad time of it between her two melan- 
choly sisters. I shall long to see the dear little house 
in Mary's parish, let me know how it is to be trick'd out ? 
Mrs. Donnellan, alias Queen Elizabeth, alias Philomella, 
has got another very bad cold : she was much delighted 
"with your letter, and if she can will answer it this post. 


John King is with me, and grows fatter and fatter. 
Many thanks attends mama, beside my humble duty, for 
the receipt of y® eye-water : Miss Forth is a woman of 
great merit and one you would like extremely. I have 
ten thousand things more to say to you, but time says 
no; we dine abroad to day, I am not drest, the clock 
has struck two. Last night we had a full assembly, all the 
fine folks, but plague take them for engrossing so much 
of my time, and not allowing me a reasonable oppor- 
tunity of telling you all I know and all I think. My 
dear Sally I have not yet wrote to — I am provoked 
when I think of it : I never pass a day without some 
thought concerning her, but I can now say no more but 
that in short I am for ever yours. 

M. Pendarves. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mr. Bernard Granville. 

Dublin, 7th March, 1731-32. 

My Dear Brother, 

May your assemblies increase at Wells, and 
every agreeable entertainment that can give you any 
pleasure. A thousand thanks to you for your last letter. 
I will not defer my answer, though I am in a monstrous 

'Tis fit in return for the account you give me of your 
amusements, that I let you know what we do here. 
Why, on the first of March we went to Court in the 
morning, heard a song of Dubourg's, (not so pretty as 
the last,) after that compliment was over and we had re- 
freshed ourselves by dinner, we went again at seven. 
The ball was in the old beef-eaters hall, a room that holds 

VOL I. z 


seven hundred people seated, it was well it did, for never 
did I behold a greater crowd. We were all placed in rows 
one above another, so much raised that the last row 
almost touched the ceiling ! The gentlemen say we 
looked very handsome, and compared us to Cupid's 
Paradise in the puppet-show. At eleven o'clock minuets 
were finished, and the Duchess went to the basset table. 

After an hour's playing the Duke, Duchess, and nobility 
marched into the supper-room, which was the council 
chamber. In the midst of the room was placed a holly 
tree, illuminated by an hundred wax tapers ; round it was 
placed all sorts of meat, fruit, and sweetmeats ; servants 
waited next, and were encompased round by a table, to 
which the company came by turns to take what they 
wanted. When the doors were first opened, the hurly 
burly is not to be described ; squawliug, shrieking, all 
sorts of noises • some ladies lost their lappets, others were 
trod upon. Poor Lady San try ^ almost lost her breath in 
the scuffle, and fanned herself two hours before she could 
recover herself enough to know if she was dead or alive. 
I and my company were more discreet than to go with 
the torrent ; we staid till people had satisfied their 
curiosity and hunger, and then took a quiet view of the 
famous tree, which occasion'd more rout than it was 
worth. I have enclosed you the newest piece of wit 
now stirring ; the author they say is Mr. Pitzmorris. 

Miss Burton was married last week privately to my 
Lord Netterville ; Lord Montjoy was bit, and some say 
Miss Pearson, who had given my Lord Netterville great 
encouragement. I hope in your next letter to hear of 

' Lady Santry, daughter of Sir Thomas Domville, and wife of Barry, 
3rd Lord Sautry, who died Jan. 27, 1734. j 

J'os^w?h£rownx■ so. 

%hm^l ff^^.fm^ W^iairiLE^ 5^®MTf.«\Sll|[F,. 


your leaving your quarters. Your lively neighbour will 
make rare work among us here where a sprightly 
English lady is very well liked. We are in hopes of Mrs. 
Southwell's coming over ; I don't know how the present 
beauties will like such potent rivals, I who have no 
pretence of being disturbed on that account, shall be very 
glad to see them. Adieu, my dear Bunny. 

I am yours most affectionately, 

M. Pendarves. 

I had almost forgot to tell you of my brother Bevill's 
good fortune. He arrived at North Carolina very well. 
All here make their compliments to you. Mr. Frank 
Hamilton is your humble servant, and proud of being re- 
membered by you. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranmUe. 

Dublin, 11th March, 1731-32. 

Miss Forth is much obliged to you for your kind 
wishes on her account; she is better, but mends very 
slowly. Who is Mrs. Lanze — what sort of woman? I 
received the riddle which you say Lord Cornbury wrote. 
I don't think there is a vast deal in it ; what fruit is it — 
a pineapple? Lady Wortley's^ verses are pretty; how 
ill her actions and her words agree I 

You are very good in taking such care about the 
boxes. I am afraid I have given you a great deal of 
trouble, though I know you will say not. 

' Query. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu? Her verses are published in 
Lord Wbarncliffe's edition of her works, to which Lady Louisa Stuart wrote 
the preface. 

z 2 


Letty Bushe is a very good-humoured agreabl 
girl, with abundance of fancy ; we never meet withou 
giving the company a great deal of entertainment, 
will tell you exactly how my acquaintance stand in m; 
favour ; Phill is out of the question, I have a friend 
ship for her far above any I can cultivate here, yet sud 
a one as you have no reason to complain of, for I cai 
firmly protest my love to you has not diminished, bu 
rather increased since my intimacy with her. I lik 
Mrs. Clayton mry well, but I think it is chiefly founder 
on her being sister to Phill, and gratitude for th 
civilities I have received from her. I esteem Mrs 
Hamilton as a woman of excellent sense and conduci 
and I would (were I under her circumstances of life) plac 
her as my pattern^ I like her company extreamly ; sh 
is easy, unaffected, has read a good deal, and her memor; 
serves her very well on all occasions. Miss Mary Fortl 
(the young lady in the house with us) has a mor 
exalted understanding and great quickness of parts, bu 
I have often spoken of her, so I shall say no more, bu 
that it is almost iriipossible to know her and not hav 
some degree of love for her. She has two sisters ver 
different in their characters, the one older and the othe 
younger than herself; the eldest, Miss Betty Fortli 
has more sense than comes to her share, but withall s^ 
fantastical, that 'tis not easy to describe her ; she has ; 
great deal of icit, but she must like her company pro 
digiously when she bestows any of it on them, unles 
she is angered, and then nothing ever was so keen 
Miss Doll Forth, the youngest, does not want for under 
standing, though her sisters have the advantage of he 
on that side ; she is good-humoured, and a good dea 


in the way of the world ; her person rather pretty than 
otherwise, has a great deal of vivacity, and is very inge- 
nious — 'tis she that paints so well. Kelly comes here, 
for ever she has taken such a liking to Phill that she 
will not live without seeing her once a-day ! She is 
very harmless, and not at all coquet ; I thought her 
quite another creature before I was so well acquainted 
with her. She brings in all the wit that flies about, and 
now and then adds a little of her own. These are the 
women that we converse with most, and from the variety 
of characters can't fail of some diversion. 

I am glad you can resent our being left out of the list 
of beauties, 1 think it was a great slur upon us ; the 
poet has had reason to repent of the great homage and 
distinction paid to Miss Burton, for she has used him 
like a dog, and is since married to Lord Netterville,^ — a 
fop and a fool, but a lord with a tolerable estate, who 
always wears fine clothes ; she has nine thousand pound 
for her portion, with a pretty person much in vogue. 

I believe I did not say one word to you of our Birthday 
ball; why it was nothing more than what we had for 
the King's Birthday, only that in the supper-room there 
' was placed a holly -tree, illuminated by an hundred wax 
tapers, round which was placed the meats, fruits, and 
sweetmeats, the servants next, and all was surrounded 
by a table to which the company came, and was served 
with everything they wanted. There was a monstrous 
crowd ; I did not dance. 

I have had a most excellent letter from Gran, which I 

^ Nicholas Xetterville, 5th Viscount Netterville, married Catherine, 
daughter of Samuel Burton, Esq., of Burton Hall, in the county of Carlow. 
Their son John succeeded at his father's death, in 1750, as 6th Viscount. 


will preserve for you ; as for Lord Tyrconnell, 1 don't 
relent or repent one bit ;^ and as you say, Molly Petty 
may console me. 

As to the grand affair of my returning to my deai 
mother and sister, 'tis what my heart is full of, from 
no other motive than the impossibility of my being happ}? 
when long absent from you, otherwise I can't say I have 
had reason one moment since I came here to wish 
myself away. I believe I ought to stay till the spring, 
but I can't determine till I know what Mrs. Perciva] 
will do. If she comes to Ireland this summer it will be 
to fix for ever, and I shall have no prospect of seeing 
Phill any more unless I make her a visit, which will nol 
be easily done ; if Mrs. Percival does not come I fancy 
she will insist upon her returning to her this summer. ] 
will not let her go without me: Prudence pleads strongl}? 
for my staying here till spring, Love draws me away this 
summer. I know which would get the better if I was 
quite at liberty, but the Bishop interferes and swears {at 
much as a bishop may) that I shall not go till spring. 

But I did not teU you what I did on Thursday last 
"Why Mrs. Graham, Miss Granville, one Mrs. Clements 
and myself — four dull women, without so much as on( 
cavalier to attend us — went to Mr. Conolly's house, callec 
Castle Town, 'tis not in his possession at present, bul 
will be so after his aunt's death. It is a large heav} 
building, a vast deal of room in it, but not laid out witl 
a good taste, the furniture good, but not disposed t( 
the best advantage, the situation very fine, and the 
country about extremely pleasant — some wood and prettj 

This alludes to the positive refusal Mrs. Pendarves gave to Lady Cartere 
when she advised her to marry Lord Tyrconnel. 


winding rivers. Our sleepy lover was yesterday dubbed 
a knight, and to-day I have promised to give him the 
meeting at the Graham's, where I shall dine, but I am 
afraid Sir Edward Pierce will hardly think it worth his 
while to make up for the neglects of Captain Pierce I Our 
parliament was dismissed yesterday. 

The town will now grow idle — most people talk of 
going into the country. The Duke goes to England the 
27th of April, but first he makes a visit to Plattin, and I 
doubt the Duchess goes, it will put my cousins in a fuss, 
and give them very little pleasure, for they are as awkward 
as ever at entertaining strangers ; and I am afraid they 
will insist upon my going with them, but I had rather 
be excused. 

I suppose you know that Lord Weymouth is in 
England. Cyrus, by this time, has blotted me out of his 
memory, or if he does remember me, it can only be to 
reproach me ; what can I say for myself? What can I 
indeed say to myself, that have neglected so extraordinary 
a correspondent ? I only am the sufferer, but I should be 
very sorry to have him think my silence proceeded from 
negligence, I declare 'tis want of time ! then there's 
poor Sally, too, who I think of every day, but cannot 
find a moment to tell her so, though soon I will endeavour 
to acquit myself in a proper manner to them both.' I 
can't put myself into better hands for making an excuse 
for me than in yours. As for Mrs. Butler, I am sure 
she never received my letter, or I never hers, I have 
not been able to write again, and I conclude she is quite 
outrageous against me. There's Mrs. Foley, too — I 
declare I have never answered her letter ; 'tis not want 
of good-will to her, I am sure ; when I am nearer to 


her I will make amends for what is past, but this must 
be a year of indulgence to me. Lady Carteret, Miss 
Carteret, nay, even Lady Sunderland, make heavy com- 
plaints against me. 

Mrs. Fendurves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Dublin, 30 March, 1732. 

You are, my dear, for better things designed than 
moving of old rubbish and lumber, but I am glad you have 
eraced those characters that were in the old hangings,^ 
they were too dear and too sacred to be ridiculed by an 
insensible logger-head ; you have placed those words 
just where I desire they should ever remain, and where 
I depend upon their being inviolable. Ah, my dear 
sister, what enjoyment has my Lady Sun : had of her 
new house ? I declare I would not accept of it on the 
terms she has hitherto held it ; the continual irritation of 
mind she has been under on Sir R's account, has been 
purchasing her magnificence at a dear rate. I had a 
letter from her last post, she is better satisfied than she 
was, and seems confident of her husband's innocence ; 
but he has been in very had company.^ I already de- 
light in your garden ; pray have plenty of roses, honey- 
suckles, jessamine and sweet briar, not forgetting the 
lily of the valley, which I would rather be than any 
flower that grows — 'tis retired, lives in shade, wraps up 
itself in its mantle, and gently reclines its head as if 

* This probably alluded to some of the relics removed from Buckland, and 
to some motto worked by Mary Granville in her father's life time. 

2 June, Friday, 23rd. — "Sir Robert Sutton, Knight of the Bath, entered 
into recognizances before the Barons of the Exchequer, not to depart the 
kingdom for one year, and until the end of the next sessions of Tarliament, 
&c., pursuant to the late Act." 


ashamed to be looked at, not conscious how much it 
deserves it. How pretty it is ! Wlio would not be that 
flower ? I am afraid you are not careful enough of your 
foot. By this time the wind has chopped about, and 
conveyed my letters to you : from the finest weather in 
the world we have now the worst. 

This has been a week of great mirth and jollity ; on 
Monday Phill and I went to the ridotto with Mrs. 
Wesley, where we met with no disturbance ; it began 
with a concert of music, the Duke, Duchess, and Lady 
Caroline were there ; they went away when the music 
was over, and after some hideous minuets, we went to 
country dances. Mr. Wesley was my partner, there were 
twenty couple, four dances were as much as my spirits 
would bear. We got home by a little after twelve. 

On Tuesday we had a party more to my gout. Mr. 
AVesley in the days of yore, (before he had his great 
fortune,) had a little house about three miles out of town 
called Butlers Town, — the situation of it very fine, some- 
thing like Boskrow, but nearer the sea. It is now in 
possession of a near relation of his, Mr. Kit Ussher, a 
very sensible, plain, good humoured man : his wife is a 
poor little meek woman that never makes or mars 
sport. To this place the old jaunting set went, about two 
o'clock, where we had cold fowl, lamb, pigeon pye, 
Dutch beef, tongue, cockells, sallad, much variety 
of liquors, and the finest syllabub that ever was tasted. 
When we had devoured as much as possible, we all 
adjourned to Mr. Wesley's, where I was placed at the 
harpsichord, and after jangHng a little, Mr. Wesley took 
his fiddle and played to his daughters' dancing. Those 
children grow prettier and more agreeable every day than 


the other, and remember you very well. We mustered up 
five couple and danced two hours ; the master of house 
fiddled and danced the whole time ; then we went to 
supper, and had a profusion of "peck and hooz " (terms for 
meat and drink) and extravagance of mirth. We parted at 
half an hour after one. 

Yesterday, we had an entertainment of another sort, 
and very agreeable in its way, — an assembly at Mrs. 
Butler's, a lady I have mentioned in some of my former 
letters, cards of all sorts ; I played two pools at commerce : 
when that was over, at ten o'clock was placed on little 
tables before the company as they sat, a large Japan 
board with plates of all softs of cold meat neatly cut, and 
sweetmeats wet and dry, with chocolate, sago, jelly, and 
salvers of all sorts of wine. While we were eating, fiddles 
were sent for, (a sudden thought). We began before 
eleven and held briskly to it till half an hour after two. 
Phill was not idle ; she danced with her cousin Will 
(Usher), and I with Mr. Butler : we were eight couple of 
as clever dancers as ever eye beheld, though / say it that 
should not. 

To-day we are to dine at the college with Mr. Lloyd, 
a clergyman, a great friend of the Bishop's, a worthy, 
agreeable, well-behaved young man; he has a living near 
Killala, and is to be with us there. (Remember his name 
and character, because I shall speak of him sometimes.) 
We shall be very merry in a quiet free way to-day, and 
come home soberly at eleven: nobody is allow'd to stay 
in the college after that hour. Pray let me know in your 
next letter those people that I have mentioned in my 
letters, with whom you are best acquainted : I don't love 
to name people whose characters you don't know some- 


thing of, as it must be very dull to you. I took a great 
deal of pains last year to get my mother's picture from 
Lady Catharine Jones, and have attempted it several 
times to no purpose. I hope you will have better success. 
I will pay the money for it positively. Adieu. 

For ever yours, 

M. Pen. 

Grran ^ has writ a poem call'd the Progress of Musick, 
which, if we can coax her to show, will give us great 
diversion ; 'tis writ in ridicule of Mr. Pilkington. We 
design to send her verses by way of praising her works. 
You must contribute and enclose it to me, either comical 
or the highest sublime — which you please ; you must 
not fail sending some to me, 'tis to be quite among 

The Lady Catherine Jones, mentioned in this letter as having 
a picture of Mrs. Granville, was the third daughter of Richard Earl 
of RanelagK She was a correspondent of Dean Swift's, and in one 
of her letters to him she writes as follows : — " The world teaches 
us that relations and friends look like two different species, and 
though I have the honour to be related to my Lord Burlington, 
since the death of his good father and mine, the notice he takes of 
me is as if I was a separated blood, or else I am vain enough to 
say that we are sprung from one ancestor wliose ashes keep up a 
greater lustre than those who are not yet reduced to ashes.'' 

The ancestor alluded to was Richard Boyle, 1st Earl of Cork, to 
whom Lord Burlington and Lady Catherine Jones were great- 
grandchildren. A gap here occurs in the correspondence of more 
than a month. 

1 *• Gran." — Query, the Hon. Ann Granville, daughter of George Lord 
Lansdowne, and sister of Mrs. Graham of Flatten. 


To Mrs. Ann Qranville. 

Dangan, 27 May, 1732. 

We left Dublin last Thursday at twelve o'clock, 
stopped at a place called the Pace, where we bated our- 
selves and our horses. Miss Kelly and Letty Bushe 
accompanied us so far on our journey in a chaise, Mr. 
Usher, Nemmy Donnellan and Mr. Lloyd on horseback ; 
those that we were to leave behind had most sorrowful 
faces. Phillis's love, and mine (that is Miss Kelly and 
Letty Bushe) played their parts very handsomely, and I 
should have been very glad could they have proceeded 
on the journey with us, but that was not practicable, so 
part we must, and did ; at five o'clock I went in a 
chaise with my L** Bishop ; the evening was very pleasant, 
and the road very good. 

Mr. Wesley took a walk to meet us two mile from his 
house ; we got to our journey's end about eight o'clock, 
were received with a very hearty welcome ; we shall not 
stay here longer than the latter end of next week. Our 
young men are not with us now, but are expected to day. 
The house is very large, handsome, and convenient, the 
situation not very pleasant, the country being flat about 
it, and great want of trees. Mr. Wesley is making great 
improvements of planting trees and making canals. You 
know the good people so well that belong to this place, 
that there is no occasion for me to say how agreeable they 
make their house, and they never fail of obliging me by 
enquiring after my dearest sister. The sweet little girls re- 
member you and all your pretty ways. Miss Wesley does 
the honours of the house as well as if she was a woman. 
We live magnificently, and at the same time without 


ceremony. There is a charming large hall with an organ 
and harpsichord, where all the company meet when they 
have a mind to be together, and where music, dancing, 
shuttlecock, draughts, and prayers, take their turn. Our 
hours for eating are ten, three, and ten again ; I am 
afraid I shall not be able to write to you again a great 
while, if I can once more before I leave Dangan I will, 
but what I shall do on the road I cannot tell, however 
I will write though I may run the hazard of a mis- 
carriage by it ; my brother I suppose is still with you. 
After this post I will not trust to that, because Sir 
John Stanley writ me word, he expected him soon to 
town. Our correspondence will have a cruel interrup- 
tion till I am settled at Killala ; tongues are already 
levelled at me for writing so much ; let them scold 
on, I will find time to fill this sheet. I hope my dear 
sister wil] endeavour to make herself and my mama 
easy at my staying so much longer in Ireland than I at 
first designed, for I never had my health better in my life ; 
this country agrees perfectly well with me. Sir John 
Stanley, I find by one of his letters, has been told that I 
am going to be married : I easily guessed the party 
though he did not name him ; it is very likely the same 
report may reach your ears, — this is therefore to give 
you notice that it is altogether groundless. I cannot 
perform my promise of filling this sheet of paper ; I am 
called ofi" from my employment, but 'tis not in the power 
of mortal man or woman to call my thoughts from my 
dearest sister, who occupies all my tender faculties. My 
duty to dear mama. 

Yours entirely, 
M. Pen. 


The following account of Dangan is given in Hall's Ireland : — 
" Dangan, the former seat of the Wesley s, is distant about seven 
miles from Trim, and about twenty from Dublin. On the death 
of Lord Mornington, it became the property of the Marquis of 
Wellesley, from whom it was purchased by a gentleman named 
Boroughs, who, after residing there some time, and adding to it 
many improvements, let it on lease to Mr. Roger O'Connor. 
While in his possession the house and demesne were dismantled 
of every article that could be converted into money ; the trees 
(of which there was an immense variety, of prodigious height and 
girth,) rapidly fell beneath the axe; the gardens were permitted 
to run waste. An application to the Lord Chancellor proved 
utterly ineffective, and at length, the premises being largely 
insured, the house was found to be on fire, and was of course 
consumed before any assistance could be obtained to extinguish 
it. One portion of the building, the walls of which are of pro- 
digious thickness, is still inhabited by a farmer, who superintends 
the property." 

Newtown Gore.i 12th June, 1732. 

We are now, my dear sister, within six mile of Killala. 
We came here on Saturday night, and are to decamp this 
morning. But before I say anything of this place or the 
person it belongs to, I must let you know all that has 
happened since I last wrote to you. This is the third 
letter I have addressed to you in my travels ; my first 
was from Mr. Wesley Dangan ; the other was from Mr. 
Mahone, Castlegar. I hope you have received both those 
letters, that you may see that wherever I go you are still 
in mind ; not that I believe you want a confirmation of 

' Newtown Gore. — There are some vestiges of the ancient abbey of Moy, 
and close to the village is a large druidical altar. About 2^ miles to the 
south, are the ruins of the castle of Longfield. 

Ijcwis' Topographical Dictionary of Ireland, 1837. 


that. Well, (as I was saying in my last to you), we went 
a-fishing to the most beautiful river that ever was seen, 
full of islands delightfully wooded. We landed on one of 
the islands belonging to the gentleman that carried us 
there — Mr. Mahone. A cloth was immediately spread on 
the grass under the shade of the trees, and witliin view 
of the winding of the river, great variety of provisions 
was produced. We sat ourselves down and partook very 
plentifully and merrily of the good cheer before us ; our 
sweet Phill supplied the place of nightingales, and the 
weather favoured us. I often sighed that you were not 
there to share so agreeable an entertainment, for I think 
I have not met with anything since my being in Ireland 
that I have liked so well. We staid on the water till eight 
o'clock, then went to a cabin, which is such a thing as this 
thatched. It belongs to a gentleman of fifteen hundred 
pounds a year, who spends most part of his time and for- 
tune in that place : the situation is pretty, being just by 
the river side, but the house is worse than T have repre- 
sented. He keeps a man cook, and has given entertain- 
ments of twenty dishes of meat ! The people of this country 
don't seem solicitous of having good dwellings or more fur- 
niture than is absolutely necessary — hardly so much, but 
they make it up in eating and drinking I I have not seen 
less than fourteen dishes of meat for dinner, and seven for 
supper, during my peregrination ; and they not only treat 
us at their houses magnificently, but if we are to go to an 
inn, they constantly provide us with a basket crammed 
with good things : no people can he more hospitable or 
obliging, and there is not only great abundance but great 
order and neatness. All this by way of digression. We 
went to the above-mentioned cabin, where we had tea. 


wine, bread and butter, and might have had a supper would 
we have accepted of it. At nine we mounted our chaises 
and returned to Mr. Mahone's, where we had spent Satur- 
day, Sunday, and Monday. On Tuesday we proceeded on 
our journey ; that night lay at Tuam, where we had a very 
tolerable inn, where Mr. Loyd met us ; his living is near 
Killala, and he is to be all the summer with us, which I 
am glad of, for he is a very good-humoured, well-behaved 
man. From Tuam we went to Mr. Bingham's, the name of 
the place Castlebar,* where we staid Thursday and Friday. 
The house is a good old house, and Mr. Bingham is im- 
proving about it, so that in time it will be a very pretty 
place, there are very pretty shady lanes about it, at the 
end of them a wood ; at some distance from the house 
there is a lough, which in our language is a lake. 

The face of the country has very much improved since 
we left Mr. Mahone's, bogs less frequent, and pretty 
woods and water have supplied their place — a good ex- 
change you'll say. The country of Ireland has no fault 
but want of inhabitants to cultivate it ; the mountains 
and noble loughs, of which there are abundance, make 
a fine variety, but they cut down all their woods instead 
of preserving them here. Mr. Bingham and his lady 
are very agreeable people ; he has been a great beau, 
and has seen a good deal of the world, is now turned 
perfect country gentleman, and affects bluntness and 
humour, which he manages so as to be very enter- 
taining; Mrs. Bingham is very civil, and a smart 
woman. We left them on Saturday morning, travelled 
tha,t day over very high mountains — a pretty romantic 
road. The roads are much better in Ireland than England, 

^ "■Mr. Bingham's, Castlebar," now the residence of the Earl of Lucan. 


mostly causeways, a little jumbling, but very safe. We 
arrived at this place on Saturday about nine o'clock ; 'tis 
an old c2iSi\Q patclied up and very irregular, but well fitted 
up, and good handsome rooms within. The master of the 
house, Sir Arthur Gore,^ a jolly red-faced widower, has 
one daughter, a quiet thing that lives in the house with 
him ; his dogs and horses are as dear to him as his 
children, his laugh is hearty, though his jests are coarse. 
His eldest son married a widow of great fortune, daughter 
to Mr. Saunders ; her father I believe has something to 
do with Snowhill, for Sally writ to me about her father's 
having a mind to plough up the hill, and I hope soon I 
shall have an opportunity of doing him some service. 
Mrs. Gore is expected here, and I will not forget Sally. 
By the wall of this garden runs a river that ends in a 
lough, we rowed all over it yesterday ; 'tis bounded by 
vast mountains, such as you never saw. As soon as I 
have finished this letter I must eat my breakfast, and 
then depart, for all things are ready, 

Phill hopes she shall find a letter from you at Killala ; 
you may now direct your letters to me there ; you need 
say no more than for me " at Killala, in Ireland" The 
poverty of the people as I have passed through the 
country has made my heart ache, I never saw greater 
appearance of misery, they live in great extremes, either 
profusely or wretchedly. 

1 Sir Arthur Gore, of Newton Gore, in the county of Mayo, was created a 
Baronet in 1662 ; his grandson, Sir Arthur, was M,P. for Longford in 1727, 
and married. Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Maurice Annesley, Esq. Their son 
was the 1st Earl of Arran, who, in 1730, married 'Jane, daughter of R. 
Saunders, Esq. 

VOL. I. 2 A 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranviUe, 

Killala, 21st June, 1732 

Killala is a very pretty spot of ground ; tlie house old, 
and indifferent enough, the sea so near us, that we can 
see it out of our window ; the garden, which is laid out 
entirely for use, is pretty, — a great many shady walks and 
full-grown forest trees. The Bishop has added a field, and 
planted it in very good taste ; there are ahundance of 
green hills on one side of the garden, on the other a 
line view of the Bay, and main ocean beyond it, and 
several pleasant islands. I have given already an account 
of our journey, and how my heart fluttered as I went 
further from you, but I must not turn my thoughts 
that way now, if I do I shall soon grow incapable of 
finishing my letter. 

One day Miss Don, Miss Forth, Mr. Crofton, Mr. 
Lloyd, and your Penny, mounted their horses to take the 
air ! We rode very pleasantly for a mile by a sweet 
river, were caught in a smart shower of rain, took shelter 
in a cabin as poor as that I described to you some time 
ago, the master of it the greatest bear that ever walked 
erect on two legs, his wife little better, and that man is 
absolutely worth two thousand pounds a year ; " muck is 
his darling,'' poor miserable wretch ! but, however, he had 
hospitality to receive us as civilly as his sort of manners 
would allow, made a good fire, and his wife gave us tea ; 
the sky cleared, we took our leave, and returned home 
wisely moralizing all the way, and condemning the sordid- 
ness of the wretch we left behind us. 

Last Sunday the Bishop gave us a very good sermon.^ 
Perhaps you think our cathedral a vulgar one, and that 


we have an organ and choir ; no ! we have no such popish 
doings, — a good parish minister and bawling of psalms is 
our method of proceeding ! The church is neat, but you 
would not dream it was a cathedral ! I suppose you 
never set your foot within a parish church, now you are 
placed so near the college. Monday we made visits to 
some of the townspeople ; there are none better than Mrs. 
Herbert or some of her rank, which eases us of much 
ceremony. Tuesday we had a very clever expedition, — 
the Bishop and I in a chaise, Mrs. Clayton, Phill, and 
Miss Forth on horseback, Mr. Crofton, Mr. Lloyd, and 
another black coat made up the train. We went to a 
place about five miles off where the salmon fishery is,* 
the house put me in mind of Eedgate,^ in Cornwall, — the 
place mama used to be so fond of. We saw the river 
drawn as we stood in the garden, and a whole net full 
caught of salmon and trout. It was very good sport, 
but what was best of all, those salmon were dressed for our 
dinner, and we regaled very plentifully ; we might have 
eat heef, pig, lamb, or goose, but we stuck to fish and 
left the flesh for vulgar mouths. Phill and I changed 
places when we returned home : the evening favoured 
us ; part of our way home was over a pleasant strand. 
To-day we dined at one Mr. Palmer's, a gentleman that 
lives a mile off, the only very agreeable neighbour we 

' The river here mentioned is the river Moy, on which there is a 
salmon leap, the fishery of which was mentioned by Berins, in 1837, as very 
productive ; the rent being from 1200Z. to 1400/. a-year, although in 1779 it 
was let for only 250?. He also states, that as many as one thousand and thirty 
salmon have been taken at one time. The Ballina fish were sent to Liverpool 
and Glasgow, and the season for fishing closes on the 12th of August. 

2 Redgate, situated just above Fowey river, in St. Cleer parish, about four 
miles from Liskeard, in Cornwall 

2 A 2 


have ; lie is a very good sort of man, has a handsome 
fortune, his wife a civil, gentle, agreeable woman : they are 
very fond of one another, but both melancholy in their 
dispositions ; they were married some time and had 
no children, at last she had one son, which is so 
great a darling and so much spoiled, that I believe she'll 
repent of her wishing so earnestly as she did for a son. 
He is a fine boy, has great vivacity (the more likely to 
prove her plague); we had a very fine dinner; she 
played once very well on the harpsichord, but has left it 
off, and I am in hopes she will lend us her harpsichord as 
she has no use for it herself; we have staid longer than 
we intended. 

I expect the post every minute, beside supper stays for 
me, which puts me into a hurry of the spirits. We rise 
at eight, meet altogether at breakfast at ten, after that sit 
to work, Phill holds forth, Zaide ^ entertains us at present 
in French, — 'tis a pretty romance. How I love Belasive, 
Alphonzo's mistress, and pity him, though his folly 
wrought his destruction. We dine at three, set to work 
again between five and six, walk out at eight, and come 
home time enough to sit down to supper, by ton, very pretty 
chat goes round till eleven, then prayers, and so to bed. 

How many of my waking and sleeping hours does my 
dearest sister occupy ! I harassed mama with a long letter 

' Zaide, Histoire Espagnole, par Monsieur de Segrais (J. Regnauld de Sc- 
grais), avec uu Traite de TOriginc des Romans, par Mr. Huet. Published 
at Amsterdam, chez Jaques Desbordes, M.DCCXV. 12mo. Edition in 
British Museum. The above edition could not have l>een the first, as 
it was " done into English by P. Porter, Esq.," and published in London, 
1678. Gonsalvo, son of Alphonso, king of Leon, appears to be the hero; and 
the story takes ])lace about 50 years after the Moors invaded Spain, — Zaide 
being the daughter of a Moor. (Madame La Fayette is believed to have 
asssited Mons. do Segrais in this work.) 


the post before last ; I hope she received it. I have asked 

you twenty times about the Bishop of Gloucester/ who 

he is and what he is? I must go — a cruel case. My 

humble duty and service to all as due. Phill croaks out 

as hoarse a note as she can by way of reproach for your ill 

usage of lier correspondence. Had my paper been three 

ells long, I should have reached the bottom I verily believe, 

though all the bishops in the universe were waiting supper 

tor uie 

T am yours for ever and ever, M. Pen. 

See of Killala, Barony of Tyrone, County Mayo. Founded by 
St. Patrick between 434 and 441. St. Patrick, it is said, built a 
church at this place, called Kill Aladh, over which he placed one 
of his disciples, St. Murduch, as bishop, whose successors were 
called by the eariy writers Bishop of Tiraraalgaed, from the 
surrounding territory, now called the Barony of Tirawley, and 
also they were called Bishops of O'Fiaira Mue, from the dis- 
tricts extending along the river Moy. Owen O'Connor, Dean of 
Achonry, was advanced to the see of Killala by Queen Elizabeth, 
1591, and allowed to hold the deanery with the bishopric. Archi- 
bald Hamilton, who succeeded 1623, obtained from James I. 
a commendatory grant of the see of Achonry ; and his successor, 
Archibald Adair, 1630, was consecrated Bishop of Killala and 
Achonry, which appear from that time to have been united. 
Thomas Otway, 1670, rebuilt the cathedral from the foundation. 
These sees were held together till the death of Dr. James Vers- 
choyle, 1833, when, under the provisions of the Church Temporali- 
ties Act, 3 & 4 William IV., they became annexed to the 
archiepiscopal See of Tuam, and the temporalities were vested in the 
Ecclesiastical Commissioners. The diocese is one of the six that 
constitute the ecclesiastical province of Sligo, and a considerable 
portion of Mayo. It is forty-three miles long and twenty-one in 

^ The Bishop of Gloucester was Dr. Elias Sydall, translated from St. 
David's to Gloucester, 1731, and died 1734, when he was succeedal by Dr. 
Martin Benson, Prebendary of Durham, 


breadth, comprises twenty-seven parishes and thirteen benefices. 
The cathedral is also the parish church. It is an ancient 
structure with a spire, and was repaired in 1817, when the late 
Board of First-fruits granted a loan of lOSH. 10s. 9d., and the 
Ecclesiastical Commissioners afterwards granted 600^. for further 

In the Roman Catholic division this diocese is an appointed 
bishopric, and one of six suffragans to Tuam. The parish includes 
the island of Bartra or Bartrach. The castle was formerly the 
episcopal palace, and in 1837 was the residence of Mr. Bourke. 
On an eminence in the town is an ancient round tower. At the 
mouth of the river Moy are the remains of a Franciscan friary, of 
the " strict observance," founded 1460, by Mac William Bourke. 
After the dissolution it was granted to Edmund Barrett. At Castle- 
reagh, on the banks of the river Eathfran, two miles from the sea, 
are the vestiges of a castle of great strength, which was levelled to 
the ground ; and a mile to the west is Carrickanass Castle, built by 
the family of Bourke, and several forts. The arras of the bishopric 
are — an open book, a cross and upright crozier. Killala was in the 
hands of the French for a month in 1798. 

Lord Lansdotvne to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

Old Windsor, June 23, 1732. 

My dear Niece, 

If you are angry with me you have reason : it is 
now nearly six months since I had the pleasure of your 
good wishes upon the last New Year's Day ; though I 
failed in returning them to you in writing, I did it very 
sincerely in my heart; but that is not justification 
enough, since my silence may have given you occasion to 
think unkindly of me. The truth is, I was so entirely 
laid up for all the winter months with one of my usual 
colds in that season of the year that I was not able to 


write to anybody. All my other correspondents have 
forgiven me, and allowed it for a sufficient reason, I 
trust to your goodness to do so too. 

I cannot say that winter is yet over with us. As 
near as we are to Midsummer-day, the cold rainy 
weather still obliges us to sit by a fire-side. As ** God,'* 
(they say), " is in GlouceiteVy' I hope he takes better 
care of you. The last news we had of your brother 
Bevil, was that he was settled, at that time of his 
writing, to his satisfaction in Carolina, where he 
found the governour an old acquaintance and school- 
fellow at Westminster, who immediately put him in an 
advantageous way of preaching the gospel and convert- 
ing infidels. If he could but have been steady but a 
very little longer in his pious fits in this old world, he 
would soon have been under no necessity to seek his 
fortune in the neiv, but I hope that is not irretrievable. 
Time and patience bring about many unexpected events. 
Pray, if you are so good to restore me to favour, after 
having in appearance deserved so much to forfeit it, let 
me hear how my sister, your mother, enjoys her health. 
Assure her of my constant afiection and best wishes, and 
believe me, my dear niece, always with truth and ten- 

Your most affectionate uncle and humble servant, 


Lady Lansdowne is very much your humble servant, 
and your mother's. 

Eobert Johnson, Esq., was " the Governor " of South Carolina 
mentioned by Lord Lansdowne ; he made his first speech to the 
general assembly in that colony January 22, 1730-1. George Lord 


Carteret, afterwards Earl Grranville, was one of the eight lords pro- 
prietors of South and North Carolina, as heir to his grandfather, 
Sir Greorge Carteret, vice- chamberlain of the household to Charles 
11. The other seven lords proprietors, viz., Edward Earl of 
Clarendon, George Duke of Albemarle, William Lord Craven, 
John Lord Berkeley, Anthony Lord Ashley, Sir William Berkley, 
and Sir John Collaton, having sold and surrendered their respec- 
tive rights and titles to George II., the one full-unprovided eighth 
part of the said provinces, and all the premises granted by letters 
patent, &c. was confirmed by Act of Parliament to George Lord 
Carteret, in 1744, subject to the payment of an annual rent of 
11. 13s. 4:d. on the Feast of All Saints, with a right to one fourth 
part of all the gold and silver ore found upon the premises. The exten- 
sive interest that Lord Carteret must have had in North and South 
Carolina accounts for Mr. Bevil Granville having been sent there. 

Mrs. Pendarves to her sister Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Killala, 28 June, 1732. 

You have already had an account of our journey and 
safe arrival. You say nothing of my letter from Castle 
Gar, (Mr. Mahone's) so I suppose that has escaped you. 
Another you ought to receive from Sir Arthur Gore's. 
Poor Mrs. Wilson ! I am sorry for the shock her death 
must have given Sally, whose tenderness must sometimes 
take place of her wisdom, hut I hope when she con- 
siders the great advantage her sister in all probahility 
will receive by the exchange she has lately made, that 
she will be reconciled to the loss of a sister that has 
given her more woe than happiness ; pray has Mrs. 
Wilson left any children ? Whilst I am writing this 
letter my ears are dinged with the Irish howl, our 
window looks into the churchyard, and during the burial 


service there is such a confusion of howls, that 'tis 
enough to distract one. The clouds interposed so much 
while we were at Dangan, that I could not pay my 
homage to the planetary world as I designed ; but I forget 
myself, and I am talking like a mortal, though you must 
know that I am nothing less than Madam Venus, Mrs. 
Clayton is Juno, Phill Minerva, Miss Forth the three 
graces, so named by Mr. Wesley, who is Paris. Mr. Lloyd 
Hermes, and Mr. Crofton is the Genius of the grotto 
that we are erecting. About half-a-mile from hence 
there is a very pretty green hill, one side of it covered 
with nut w^ood ; on the summit of the hill there is a 
natural grotto, with seats in it that will hold four people. 
We go every morn^ at seven o'clock to that place to 
adorn it with shells — the Bishop has a large collection of 
very fine ones ; Phill and I are the engineers, the men 
fetch and carry for us w^hat we want, and think them- 
selves highly honoured. I forgot to tell you that from 
the grotto we have an extensive view of the sea and 
several islands ; and Killala is no small addition to the 
beauty of the prospect, for in the midst of it there is 
a pillar, not unlike a Roman obelisk, of great height. 
The town is surrounded by trees, and looks as if it was 
in the middle of a wood ; this affair yields us great diver- 
sion, and I believe will make us very strong and healthy, 
if rising early, exercise and mirth have any \drtue. 

Could you be here with a wish, our godships w^ould 
soon have their band enlarged, and we would ravage 
Olympus to find a title suitable to you. I am glad you 
correspond with Gran, Phill takes it a little to heart 
that you have neglected her correspondence so much. I 
am glad Ogleby is worth your acquaintance. Let no 


opportunity of laughter escape you I beg ; every hearty 
laugh you laugh is an addition to my happiness, 80 laugh 
and be sure to let me know you do. I heartily rejoice with 
you for Mrs. Foley's coming into the country, many 
pleasant hours may you have together, and much of that 
time may I employ ! '* An unreasonable, impertinent 
wish," says Mrs. Foley, who has not heard from me since 
my receiving a very obliging letter from her, but I trust 
you will make my peace. I will not promise for much 
better behaviour till I have got off from this same Hiber- 
nian land. 

Notwithstanding many pretty things we do here, the 
shortening of the days gives me a secret joy — not that I 
wish for a return to Dublin, but the sooner winter comes, 
the sooner comes spring, the time when I am to take my 
flight and perch / know where. 

I had a letter yesterday from my brother, by this 
time he is playing the coquet among the belles on 
Tonbridge walks, and / know not ivho can do it better ! 
I have not yet had a letter from Lady Sunderland 
since Sir Robert's misfortunes. I believe she has not 
been in a very writing way ; I own my heart aches 
for her, and the thought of her being unhappy comes 
across my mind too often. Who could have thought 
that her fortune should fail her? We have begun 
Clelia, she is a much better French lady than an 
English one ; our hours of work and reading are from 
breakfast to dinner, and from five to seven our walk- 
ing hours. You are very good in getting the copple- 
crowned fowl : I suppose they are white ones. I writ a 
direction how you were to send them to the Bishop, but 
for fear that letter should miscarry, I will repeat it. 


You can, I suppose, get them conveyed to Bristol, and a 
bargain made for their passage thence to Dublin, but 
great charge must be given about them, for as the poor 
birds are eatable things, some one on board the ship 
may long for a tit-bit ; they must be directed to Mr. 
Ryves, merchant in Dublin. Pray, what is become of 
Sir Tony ? does he correspond with my mother or you ? 
We have not touched a card since we came, but when 
candle-light is more plenty we shall begin commerce. 
Must I bid you tell my mother that I am hers most 
dutifully and affectionately ; she does not, I hope, want 
a confirmation of that, but it cannot be too often re- 
peated. I am now going to build a pyramid for the 
grotto : I will secretly dedicate it to you know who ; if 
not, 'tis time you should, and every looking-glass can in- 
form you. Where is the Marquis ? 

The book called " Clelia," which was read aloud for the 
amusement of the society at the Bishop of Killala's, is thus en- 
titled : — " Clelia ; an excellent new Romance, dedicated to Made- 
moiselle de Longueville. Written in French by the exquisite pen 
of (Magdeleine de Scudery, sister of) Monsieur de Scudery, Go- 
vernour of Nostredame de la Garde." An English folio edition, 
published in London, 1678. The words " Magdeleine de Scudery, 
sister of,'^ are interlined in ink, in the title-page of the copy in 
the British Museum. This folio romance has a remarkable com- 
mencement, as it begins with " CleHa" and " Aronces" (who are 
to be married the following day) taking a walk with her father 
and mother, and seeing a former lover approaching, she leaves 
Aronces to go to her father and induce him to " prevent mischief," 
at which express moment an earthquake happens, which divides 
the ground between Clelia and Aronces, and in the confusion 
Clelia falls into the power of the rival lover Horatius ! There is a 
map appended, which contains a river representing the course of 
Esteem, Friendship and Love. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Killala, 4th July, 1732. 

As I was yesterday sitting on a haycock, thinking in- 
tensely of her that gives the relish to all my pleasures, 
and as a reward for so faithfully performing my duty, 
my dearest sister's letter was brought to me. As for the 
riddle, I own my ignorance, I cannot find it out ; pray 
always send me the explanations with your riddles, for 
I am dullness itself. 

Poor Mrs. West ! there's an end of her beauty and 
vanity ; the illness she had before her death I hope was 
of service to her. Just as I came was I dragged out, to 
go to the grotto : I resisted as much as I could, that I 
might bestow all the evening on you, but company being 
here, I was afraid they might be aifronted if I shut my- 
self up, and country ladies, you know, are ietchi/ things. 
I have now snatched up my pen in great haste, mu(!h 
afraid I shall not have time to finish my letter before the 
postman sounds his horn. 

You said not one word to me about Bunny's wearing 
his own hair.' I had a letter yesterday from Lady Car- 
teret : she writes me word that he " looks ver^/ well with 
his new-adorned pate." Tell me what you think ? I fanfiy 
a wig became him better ; what provoked him to cut so 
bold a stroke f I received a packet of the same sort as 
yours, the author is easily guessed — she is made of odd 
materials ; I wonder at this time frolics can take place. 

1 In the early part of King George II.'s reign, wigs were very generally 
worn, some of which were powdered and others not ; but some young men wore 
their own hair dressed and jx)wdered, and some, in imitation of Lord Boling- 
broke, wore their unpowdcred hair in long ringlets, tied back with a long 
streaming ribbon. 


I have not heard from Lady Sunderland since her mis- 
fortunes/ I am not much surprised at it, but I think 
Bess might have given me some account of their affairs ; 
unhappy as they are, it would be more satisfaction to 
me to hear it from them than from strangers. 

Last Monday our family and Mr. Palmer's met on a 
very agreeable expedition. We were in all twenty ; we 
left home about eleven, and went four mile in coaches 
and chaises, then we all mounted our horses, and went 
to a place called Patrick Down, seven mile from Killala. 
The road is all the way by the sea-side, over vast cliffs, 
such as you have seen about Mr. Basset's, in Cornwall. 
We had no prospect from the Downs where we stood, but 
the main ocean ; about a mile from the cliffs, that are of 
an immense height, is a rock which formerly was joined, 
I believe, to the part where we stood, for it seemed to be 
the same heiglit : grass grows upon it, and there is the 
remains of a wall ; it is so perpendicular that no one 
could climb it. The day was just so windy as to make 
the waves roll most beautifully, and dash and foam about 
the rocks. I never saw anything finer of the kind ; it 
raised a thousand great ideas ; oh ! how I wished for 
you there ! it is impossible to describe the oddness of 
the place, the strange rocks and cavities where the sea 
had forced its way. For our feast there was prepared 
what here they call a " swilled mouton," that is, a sheep 
roasted whole in its skin, scorched like a hog. I never 
eat anything better; we sat on the grass, had a rock 
for our table ; and though there was great variety of 
good cheer, nothing was touched but the mouton. The 
day was very agreeable, and all the company in good 


I beg the receipt of American balsam and elder-berry 

*' The misfortunes " of Lady Sunderland may be explained by 
reference to the records of the reign of King George II., when a 
Joint Stock Company called " The Charitable Corporation," having 
for its expressed object the loan of money in large and small sums 
at a legal rate of interest, and upon any sufficient security. It 
originated in the reign of Queen Anne, and had maintained its 
reputation for about twenty years, when in the year 1731, the 
cashier, George Eobinson, M.P. for Mario w, and John Thompson, 
the warehouseman who had charge of the pledges, both suddenly 
disappeared in one day. The shareholders, finding that their 
capital of 500,000?. had also disappeared in a mysterious manner, 
brought the affair before the House of Commons. A secret com- 
mittee was appointed, and a system of fraud was discovered, in 
which some of the most considerable persons in the country were 
implicated. Three members of the House of Commons were 
expelled for the " sordid knavery " of these transactions — Sir 
Eobert Sutton, Sir Archibald Grant, and George Robinson, Esq. 

It is probable that Sir Robert Sutton's well known attachment to 
the Stuarts prevented the possibility of his exposure and disgrace 
being avoided on this occasion. He represented the county of 
Nottingham, was a Privy Councillor, a Knight of the Bath, and a 
distinguished diplomatist. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

Killala, 7th Augwst, 17|2. 

liong before this will reach you you wiU be returned 
from Staunton.^ I can easily guess how well you spent 

* Staunton, near Broadway, Worcestershire, and consequently near Buck- 
land, (once the retreat of Col. Bernard Granville,) was at that time the 
residence of Sarah Kirkham, (Mrs. Capon), it was here that Mrs. Elstob, 
the Anglo-Saxon scholar, found a home during her trouble. 


your time there, but part of the entertainment you 
expected at Stanway I am afraid you have been disap- 
pointed in, for the Fredericks I hear are at Tunbridge. 
Sir John and my brother are now, I suppose, at London ; 
they write me word that they have not had a great 
crowd of company. I had a letter two posts ago from 
poor Lady Sunderland, who bears her misfortunes with 
great strength of mind ; she goes constantly to IsHngton 
wells, where she meets abundance of good company. 
Those waters are rising in fame, and already pretend to 
vie with Tunbridge : if they are as good it will be 
very convenient for all Londoners to have a remedy so 
near at hand. The Scotts are soon to go to Scofton, 
there, I hope, to end their days ; Bess Tichbourne has 
a strange disorder in her eyes, and has had it for above two 
months — little blisters that rise on her eyeballs every 
morning, and continue two or three hours. I never heard 
of so odd a complaint ; Lady Delawarr is in Holland. 

Sir Thomas Peyton ^ was married on the 2nd June, 
at Cambridge — my friend Dr. Williams tied the Gordian 
knot ; the affair was finished at Emnetli.^ Very merry 
doings they have had ever since ; the lady is far from 
a beauty, but every way else much commended. Now 
you must know I always thought the Tomtit a better 
judge of beauty than of the agreeable ; I have not heard 
what fortune, but I fancy no great matter, or it would 
have been mentioned. It is comical that I, who am 
removed to one of the remotest parts of Hibernia, should 
be sending you news from your neighbourhood, but 

Married June, 1732, Sir Thomas Peyton, of Doddington, in the Isle of Ely, 
to Mrs. Skeffington, of 20,000?. fortune. — London Magazine. 

2 Emneth, county of Norfolk, belonged to Laurence Oxburgh, who ruamed 
Dorothy great great aunt of the Sir Thomas Peyton, here alluded to. 


sometimes foreign papers inform one more exactly of our 
own affairs than domestic ones. I have been at an 
island inhabited by nothing but bullocks, rabbits, and 
snails, it is over against Killala ; we took a boat and 
away we went, the hottest day that ever was felt. 
When we came to the island every one took a way of 
his own, my amusement was running after butterflies 
and gathering weed nosegays, of which there are great 
plenty ; Phill sat down on a bank by the seaside and 
sung to the fish, got up in haste when she thought it 
time to join her company, dropped her snuff-box in the 
sand, and did not recollect it till she was at home. The next 
day we were to dine at Mr. Lloyd's sister's, who lives four 
or five miles off ; we went by sea, passed the island ; Phill 
said she'd go and look for her box, as odd an undertak- 
ing as " seeking a needle,^' &c. ; but she went and found it. 
So we proceeded merrily to the place appointed, walked 
a mile or two on a very pleasant strand, and gathered a 
fresh recruit of shells for our grotto ; the whole day was 
very pleasant, and put me in mind of our jaunt to 
Rosteague ; but the water was somewhat smoother. Mr. 
Kit Donellan is come among us, and is a very good 
addition ; he is a man of great worth, and must be 
valued by all that know him ; his only fault is being too 
reserved, and not caring to preach — that last is unpardon- 
able in him, because nobody does it better ; his excuse is 
weakness of his lungs. I writ my mother word that 
we had company in the house with us ; they stay till 
Wednesday, after that we shall have another supply ; 
in short, we have almost as much company here as in 
Dublin, and that is too much, indeed we never are so 
well pleased as when we are by ourselves. To-morrow, 


madam, we are to have dainty doings ; 'tis Killala fair- 
day. There are to be the following games, viz., two 
horse races, one race to be won by the foremost horse, 
another by the last horse. A prize for the best dancer, 
another for the best singer, a third for the neatest drest 
girl in the company. Tobacco to be grinned for by old 
women, a race run by men in sacks, and a prize for the 
best singing boy. Judge you if these will not afford us 
some good sport. I will let you know who are the 
visitors, and all the grand doings. 

Miss Forth made me abundance of speeches the other 
day for a letter she writ you, with directions how you 
might enclose my letters free ; but as you have never 
mentioned the receiving it, or taken the advantage she 
proffered you, 1 suppose the letter miscarried ; I am 
sorry you should miss of it, because it cost her some 
pains to write it ; her eyes are not well enough to per- 
mit her to write often, or hardly at all. 

Lord Weymouth has given his house at Old Windsor 
to his mother,^ who immediately sold it. I wish he had 
given it to me ! 'twas on a pleasant spot of ground, and 
the house good enough for me. Lady Carteret writes me 
word that she has bought the ground her house stood on 
in Arlington Street, and that my lord designs to build 
there.^ Lady Dysart is at Welmingham, Miss Lewson 
with her : her daughter, Lady Grace, is at Ham, — a fine 
thriving child ; Mrs. Percival is at a lodging at Little 
Chelsea, and Dr. Delany wHth her, who has just married a 

* " His mother,''^ Lady Lansdowne. 

- Lord Granville's house in Arlington-street, was the lowest in the street 
on the side of the Green Park. It now belongs to Lord Gage. — D. 

Letters of Horcice Walpole, vol. ii. p. 351. 
VOL. I. 2 B 


very rich widow : Gran has writ me a very comical ac- 
count of their way of living ; she has an excellent talent at 
description. Mrs. Mahone's being in the house with us 
has put a stop to our studies for some time. I writ you 
word that we had read Dr. Delany's and were about Dr. 
Berkeley's ; I wish if Mrs- Chapon could get them to 
read she would, and send me her judgment of them ; and 
also let me know (if you have an opportunity of reading 
them) your opinion- Did j^ou get my letter about 
Nanny Griffith ? 

Our fiddler has left us, so there's an end of dancing 
for some time, but we expect a famous piper and haut- 
boy, and then we shall foot it again most furiously- 
Miss Granville is gone to England ; I hear that Lord 
Lansdowne went as far as Chester to meet her. Mrs. 
Graham has got another son- I fancy they will take 
a trip to France, but I have no authority to say it. 
Miss Bushe writes me once a fortnight — she has as 
good a command of her pen as of her pencil : she sends 
me some pretty produce of her pencil every time she 
writes : when I see you I shall be able to show you a 
collection of her works. I must write three or four 
letters this post besides this, so adieu, my much-loved 
sister ; I have not had any letter from my brother Bevil, 
but my Lord Lansdowne has had an account since I 
heard of him, that confirms the news of his extraordinary 
good fortune- 

The Islington Wells which are mentioned in this letter, were also 
called Sadler's Wells, from a spring of mineral water, discovered 
by a man named Sadler, in 1683, in the garden of a house 
which he had opened as a public music-joom, and called by his 


own name, "Sadler's Music House." A pamphlet was pub- 
lished in 1G84, giving an account of the discovery, with the 
virtues of the water, which is there said to be of a ferrugineous 
nature, and much resembling in quality and efPects the water of 
Tunbridge Wells. 

" People may talk, of Epsom wells, 
Of Tunbridge springs which most excells ; 
I'll tell you by my ten year's practice 
Plainly what the matter of fact is : 
Those are but goo<i for one distase, 
To all distempers this gives ease." 

A Morning Bamble, or, Islington Wells Burlesqt. 

Loudon, 1684. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Killala, 13th August, 1732. 

Your last letter, my dearest sister, raised an idea that I 
could not think of without a mixture of pain and pleasure, 
the remembrance of those happy hours that I have passed 
with you and Sappho : the arbour, Bunhill, the fields, all 
the places where we have enjoyed her conversation I have 
a particular regard for, and could not bear their being 
passed away, had I not hopes of renewing that satisfaction 
as soon as I can set my foot on English ground : that 
prospect indeed is too far off, but winter approaches, and 
as soon as a safe passage may be depended on, I shall 
sail over the main to my best beloved sister. 

I hope Sally finds a great deal of comfort from her fair 
companion whose person you commend : if she has a mind 
capable of improvement she has now a fair opportunity of 
cultivating it to the utmost advantage. I am glad our 
goddaughter is such a lively creature, and gives you reason 
to think she will have her mothers icit. I hope Mr. 
Gore has accommodated his affairs to Mr. Kirkham's satis- 

2 B 2 


faction : they say he is a good sort of a young man, but 
I question if he is unprejudiced enough to relish the 
conversation of our friend — his life has not been spent 
with women of her turn ; so much for Sally, I delight to 
talk of her ! Mr. Grore could not saj? more of the 
Bishop of Killala's, &c., than they deserve. The Bishop 
seems to be one of the best of men, so even-tempered and 
obliging, everybody is at liberty to do what they like, 
and he is never so well pleased as when his company is 
diverted. Mrs. Clayton has also her charms, and Phill's 
you are acquainted with better than I can describe. 
Miss Forth is also a very agreeable creature. 

Last week we were hard at work in gathering a fresh 
recruit of shells to finish the grotto. You lost some 
sport by the Tracys and Fredericks being from home. 
The verses on Stella and Flavia positively/ are Mrs. 
Barber's. Dr. Delany's being married to a very rich 
widow,^ and Mrs. Barber's design of leaving England 
soon, may be you know already. We have been diverted 
lately in reading the renowned history of Eeynard the 
Fox. The fair of Killala has added largely to our 
library — Parismus ^ and Parismenos,^ the Seven Cham- 
pions, Valentine and Orson, and various other delectable 
histories too numerous to be here inserted. Philosophy, 

* Dr. Delany married in August, 1732, Mrs. Tennyson. 

' " Parismus, (by Thomas Creed or Creede,) the renowned Prince of Bohemia, 
his most famous, delectable, and pleasant history ; containing his noble bat- 
tailes fought against the Persians, his love to Laurana, the king's daughter of 
Thessaly, and his strange adventures in the desolate island, etc." — London, 
1598, 4to. 

3 " Parisraenos : the second part of the most famous delectable history. " — 
London, 1599, 4to. 

Creed was a London printer or bookseller, who lived in the Ifith century, 
and v/rote many works. 


romance, and liistory amuse us by turns ; when candles 
are lighted, Mr. Donnellan, Phill and I, play at back- 
gammon, the Bishop and Mr. Crofton go to chess, the 
rest saunter and make their observations on the gamesters ; 
we go to supper at nine, after supper play at pope Joan 
or commerce tiU eleven, then go to prayers and so to 

This is Sunday morning. Mr. Lloyd is to preach to- 
day, which I rejoice at, for he preaches prodigiously well. 
I have a very good joke to tell you, but Phill has a mind 
to be the tell-tale herself, so I think I must leave it to 
her : it is a thing that has flustered me not a little. You 
must have patience till next week, and considering 
how long you kept silence, you may be contented. 

We had excellent sport at the fair ; I gave you an 
account of the method that w^as to be observed, the games 
and the prizes. About eleven o'clock Mrs. Clayton, well 
attended, in her coach drawm by six flouncing Flanders 
mares, went on the strand, three heats the first race. 
The second gave us much more sport ; five horses put 
in, the last horse was to van, and ever}^ man rode his 
neighbour's horse without saddle, whip, or spur. Such 
hollowing, kicking of legs, sprawling of arms, could not 
be seen without laughing immoderately; in the after- 
noon chairs were placed before the house, where we all 
took our places in great state, all attired in our best 
apparel, it being Mrs. Clayton's birthday ; then dan- 
cing, singing, grinning, accompanied with an excellent 
bagpipe, the wdiole concluded with a ball, bonfire, and 
illuminations; pray does your Bishop promote such 
entertainments at Gloster as ours does at Killala ? 

I had a letter last post from Lady Carteret ; Lady 


Dysart is at Welmington, Miss Lewson with her. Lady 
Chen's ^ death has enriched my Lord Gower's family ; he 
is a worthy man, and I am glad he should prosper. 

You say nothing of my brother's having left off his 
wig : how does his hair become him ? what work are you 
about, and what book? 

I suppose you saw the Winningtons and Griffiths ; are 
they as usual, or has any alteration happened ? Wliere 
is Sir Tony ? Now I am drawing towards my fortieth 
year,^ 'tis time to enquire after him. Did Mrs. Wilson 
leave any children ? No end of my questions to-day. 

The following paper was found in a sketch-book belonging to 
Mrs. Pendarves, with views of places in Ireland by Letitia Bushe, 
especially one of Coote Hill, which is so particularly described in 
this Journal, and which appears to have been kept by her with 
the drawing of that place which Miss Bushe had been visiting. 

August the 24th, 1732. Left Dublin. 

Dined at LismuUen ;^ Mr. Dillon's house made mighty 
neat ; a vast deal of wood and wild gardens about it. 
Walked to see the ruins of the old Abby near them — a 
vast building enclosed with large trees, great subter- 
raneous buildings, with arches of cut stone, which make 
no other appearance above the earth than as little green 
hillocks, like mole-hills. The arches seem to have been 
openings to little cells, rather than continued passages 
to any place; they are very low — whether it be that 

» Query. The Lady Cheney, who died at her house in Lisle-street, near 
Red Lion-squure, in June, 1732. 

2 Mrs. Pendarves was then only thirty-two. 

' Lismullen, five miles from Navar, county of Mcath. 


they are sunk into the ground, or always were so, I can't 
judge, but they are formed of very fine cut stone. The 
Abbey is in the prettiest spot about the house ; 'tis sur- 
rounded with tall trees, and a little clear rivulet winds 
about it. The road from Lismullen to Naver very plea- 
sant ; passed by Arsalah, which lies upon the Boyn. The 
house seems a very antique edifice, it has fine gardens, 
but the trees and meadows that lie by the river are 
extremely beautiful ; their domains reach all along the 
river, and half the way to Naver. Naver stands just 
where the Boyn and Blackwater meet, high over the 
river. I walked over the bridge by moonlight, along a 
walk of tall elms which leads to a ruined house they 
call the Black Castle, from a vulgar tradition of its being 
haunted ; it lies over the Blackwater, has a vast number 
of trees about it, and seems to have been pretty. The 
" f<pirit " it was visited by was extravagance ; it belonged 
two yoimg men, who in a few years ruined themselves, 
and let the seat go to destruction, and ever since they give 
out it is haunted, it is now another person's property, and 
going to be repaired. 

The 25th, left Naver, and travelled through bad 
roads and a dull uninhabited country, till we came 
to Cabaragh, Mr. Prat's house, an old castle modern- 
ized, and made very pretty : the master of it is a 
virtuoso, and discovers whim in all his improvements. 
The house stands on the side of a high hill ; has some 
tall old trees about it; the gardens are small b"t neat; 
there are two little terrace walks, and down m a nollow 
is a little commodious lodge where Mr. Prat lived 
whilst his house was repairing. But the thing that most 
pleased me, was a rivulet that tumbles down from rocks in 


a little glen, full of shrub-wood and trees ; here a fine 
spring joins the river, of the sweetest water in the world. 
The 26th, left Mr. Prat's, and travelled over the 
most mountainous country I ever was in ; still as we had 
passed over one hill, another showed itself, Alps peeped 
over Alps, and " hills on hills" arose : the face of the coun- 
try not pleasant till I came to Shercock, which is a hand- 
some house, and stands over a fine lake, that has several 
woods and meadows on the sides of it. A vast deal of 
heath and ploughed land from that till I came within 
three miles of Coote Hill, then the scene changed most 
surprisingly, and the contrast is so strong, that one 
imagines they are leaving a desert and coming into 
Paradise, The town of Coote Hill is like a pretty English 
village, well situated, and all the land about it cultivated 
and enclosed with cut hedges and tall trees in rows. 
From the town one drives nearly a mile on a fine gravelled 
road, a cut hedge on each side, and rows of old oak and 
ash trees, to Mr. Coote's house. Within two hundred 
yards of the house is a handsome gate-way, which is 
built in great taste, with a fine arch to drive through. This 
house lies on the top of a carpet hill, with large lakes 
on each side which extend four miles, and are surrounded 
by fine groves of well-grown forest trees. Below the 
house and between the lakes is a little copsewood which 
is cut into vistas and serpentine walks that have the 
softest sods imaginable, and here and there overgrown 
forest trees, in the midst of them there is jessamine, 
woodbine, and sweetbrier, that climb up the trees ; and 
all sorts of flowers sprinkled in the woods; all these 
have end in the view of a lake of four or five miles long. 
From the copsewood you go into a spacious moss-walk, 


by the lake side : on the other side towards a spacious 
kitchen-gardeu, there is a wood of scrub and timber 
trees mixed, of twelve hundred acres, with avenues cut 
for a coach to drive through, and up and down little 
openings into fine lawTis, and views of the lake and town 
of Coote Hill. From this wood I rode, and saw the 
demesnes in Mr. Coote's hands, which are about thirty 
fields, finely enclosed with full hedge-rows, corn-meadows, 
pastures, and a deer-park, enclosed with a high stone 
wall well stocked with deer it is a very convenient 

Coote Hill, in the county of Cavan, was the residence of the 
Honourable Thomas Coote, son of Richard, Baron Coote. Mr. 
Coote was one of the Justices of the King's Bench, and in 1696 
one of the Commissioners entrusted with the Great Seal, He 
married three times : 1st. Frances, daughter and co-heir of 
Colonel Christopher Copley ; 2ndly, Elinor, daughter and co-heir 
of Sir Thomas St. George ; and 3rdly, in 1679, Anne, widow 
of William Tigh, Esq., and daughter of Mr. Alderman Christo- 
pher Lovett, of Dublin, by whom he left six children. Mr. 
Coote died 24th April, 1741. His second daughter by his third 
wife, married in 1704, Mervyn Pratt, Esq., of Cabra Castle, in 
the county ot" Cavan, which place is also mentioned in the narrative 
as " Caharagh'^ 

Mrs. Pendarvcs to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

Killala, 27th August, 1732. 

I believe Gloster looked dirty enough after the sweets 
of the Yale of Evesham and Glostersliire hills. I 
have not heard lately of young Walpole's^ love : I do 

* " Young WaJpole." Horace Walpole wasbominl718. He left Eton in 
1734. This might have been him ; but it was more hkely to have been one 
or other of his elder brothers ; the eldest of whom was afterwards the second 
Earl of Orford, and the second, the Hon. Sir Edward Walpole. 


not hear he has applied elsewhere since his disappoint- 
ment, and am willing to believe him that rarity, — a 
constant man. Puzzle has acted like one of his pro- 
fession : I think him monstrously ungrateful to my 
mother ; I have no notion of Tom Prederick's^ marry- 
ing for love, I fear the love of money has too powerfully 
got the possession of him, to let in a spark of generosity. 

Now, having answered all your queries, I proceed to 
inform you how we have passed our time since I last 
wrote. Last Tuesday our family and the Palmers went 
to a place called Kilcummin, not very unlike Down 
Patrick, but nearer to us ; the day was very fine, the 
sea in a great agitation ; we had a magnificent entertain- 
ment, with a rock our table, and rocks for seats, where we 
had a fuU prospect of the sea in all its glory, and were 
sliaded from the wind. We were exceedingly merry ; no 
one of the company seemed to want anything to com- 
plete their pleasure, except myself. I fell into my usual 
reveries, which are now so well understood, that I am 
indulged in them. We returned home well satisfied 
with our entertainment. 

Last Friday we were diverted in another wa}^ : it 
was Mr. Lloyd's birthday, his father was bishop of this 
place, and Mr. Lloyd was born in this house, for which 
reasons it was thought proper to solemnize it. We all 
dressed ourselves out with all our gaiety and abund- 
ance of good taudry fancy. After dinner a fiddler ap- 
peared, to dancing we went ding dong, in the midst of 
which I received your last dear letter. Notice was given 
that a set of maskers desired admittance ; so in they 

• Elizabeth, daughter of Peter Bathurst, Esq., of Clarendon park, AVilt- 
shire, M.P., married Sir Thoma« Frederick of Hampton, Middlesex, Bart. 
She died in 1764., 


marched, three couple well adorned with leeks, and a 
He and She goat were led hridled and saddled with 
housings and pistols, and their horns tipped with leeks ; 
the whole concluded with an entertainment of toasted 

The enclosed poem was presented to the gentleman 
of the day, which I think well deserves your notice. 
They were made by Mr. Donnellan, though he will not 
own them. 

An Ode on tlie Birthday of the Rev. Mr. Lloyd. 
Hail to the day 

That gave the noble Welshman birth ; 
Th' illustrious Lloyd. 
The pride of Wales and glory of the earth. 
Descended from a kingly race 
Of Welsh nobility. 
Cadwaladyr and Tudor's grace 
His royal stock and blazon out his pedigree. 


What tongue can tell, or pen describe the joy 
That ushered in the lovely royal boy. 
The shaggy tribe in transports wild, 

Did frisk, curvet, and play ; 
The riigged rocks and niouutains smiled. 

And Penmaen mawr looked gay. 
The leek in freshest verdure clad. 

Its choicest odours spread 
And formed a beauteous garland glad 

T' adorn the hero's head. 
From heavenly mansions bright. 
The gods with Taify posted to the earth, 
And at Penhwnllys i famous castle hght, 
T' attend the great, the vast the important birth. 
They club the lovely babe t'endow. 
With every virtue, every grace. 
Each god and goddess did their gifts bestow 
To dizen out his body, soul, and face. 
These Taffy mixed, and his best clay employed, 
Then called the Jiapjpy composition, Lloyd. 

^ The name of Mr. Lloyd's ancestral castle in Wales. 



Let every Welshman then with might and main, 

Echo aloud his praise, 
And every harp with stirring strain 

Call forth its choicest lays. 
Let the seas roar, 
On the bleak shore, 

The rocks their joy proclaim ; 
And kids and goats, 
With quivering throats. 
Bleat forth his mighty fame. 

Let every, etc. 

Ware states in his history of Ireland, that — Bishop "William 
Lloyd was bom at Penhwnllys, in the island of Anglesea, in 
Wales (the Mona of the ancients),^ but was educated in the 
University of Dublin, of which he afterwards became a Fellow. 
In 1683 he was made Dean of Achonry and Chantor of Killala, 
from whence he was promoted to the sees of Killala and Achonry, 
by letters patent dated the 28th of February, 1690, and con- 
secrated in Christchurch, Dublin, August 23rd, 1691, by Francis, 
Archbishop of Dublin, assisted by the Bishops of Kildare, Killaloe, 
and Clonfert. He died in December, 1716. William Lloyd, 
Bishop of Killala, had a son born at Wrexham on February 24th, 
1691, and a daughter, Susan, also born there June 3rd, 1693. 
The Penhwnllys family seem to have been Hughes ; and one of 
them married a Lloyd. 

Mrs. Fendarves to Mrs. Ann Granvillcy at Oloucester. 

Kilalla, 6th Sept., 1732. 

I won't make an apology to you, my dear sister, for not 
writing to you last post ; I know you are better pleased 

* The Isle of Aniilesea (in Welsh) is called Mon, and the Isle of Man, 
Monaio (or Mon of the Waters) ; whilst Anglesea is somotinies designated hy 
the Welsh jwets, as '' Mvn FyuydiL," or Mouof the Mountain. The Romans 


that I spared my weak eye, than if I had writ you a very 
entertaining letter, — besides my place was so well supplied 
that you have no reason to complain. Phill attacked you 
^vith a folios heet, which I hope you have received safely 
I believe it afforded you good entertainment every way- 
She writes well, and had a very extraordinary affair to 
relate to you, which she would not suffer me to teD. To 
speak the truth of the matter, I have been not a little 
enraged about it, but at last I thought it best to make a 
joke of it : the whole country knows it/ and the wretch is 
ridiculed to that degree, that he has not made his ap- 
pearance since he wrote the letter, — so much for that/ 
Now for a more pleasing subject. 

Your last letter was kind, entertaining, and delightful. 
I blame myself for not sometimes shewing your letters, 
they would do you great honour, but I have a particular 
pleasure in thinking, though they are worthy of being 
perused by the best judges, that they are designed only 
for me, and that my shewing them would rather offend 
than please you. I however read part of some of them 
to dear Phill, who has the heart and delicacy to be de- 
lighted with them, and she says you write better than 
anybody and with more ease and liveliness. I hope 
you have now the pleasure of my brother's company, and 
that the assizes and review will have given you much 
diversion : you are list'ning to the sound of the trumpet, 
the beating of the drum, and the fine speeches of the 
officers, whilst we are occupied in our rural sports, far 

called both Anglesea and the Isle of Man, Mona ; but the natives of the latter 
island called it Mannin, hence the English name of Man, It was further 
known to the Romans by the names of Monoeda, Monahia, and Eubonia. 

* This joke appears to relate to a letter of proposal from an Irish admirer 
of Mrs. Fendarves. 


removed from the noise and din of the war and warlike 
men. Our daily amusements I have so often repeated ; 
that you have them by heart, but are they not pretty ? 
do you not wish yourself extended on the beach gathering 
shells, listening to Phill while she sings at her work, or 
joining in the conversation, always attended with cheer- 
fulness ? perhaps you had rather rise by seven and walk 
to the grotto with your bag of shells, and a humble 
servant by your side, helping you up the hill and saying 
pretty things to you as you walk ? though may be you 
choose to be at work in the grotto shewing the elegancy of 
your fancy, praising your companions' works, and desiring 
approbation for what you have finished ? if this is too 
fatiguing, 'tis likely you would prefer working or 
reading till dinner, after that eating nuts and walking 
to gather mushrooms, &c. 

Do display your fan, my dear sister, never spare it, and 
make those 'wretches tremble that would make you a 
slave were you in their clutches. I don't believe one word 
of Tom Tit's great fortune ; for I think his aunt and sister 
would have acquainted me with it were it true. The oc- 
casion of Miss Forth 's writing to you, was to put you in 
a way of enclosing your letters to a relation of hers, that 
would have conveyed them without expense to me ; she 
said nothing of it to me at that time for fear I should 
oppose her giving herself so much trouble ; but I have made 
your compliments to her, and that will do as well as your 
writing to her. You have reason to wish to hear Mr. 
Donnellan preach ; he is very excellent that way, but has 
weak lungs, and is forced to spare himself; he has not 
brought a sermon with him to Killala, to my great dis- 
appointment, I never heard him but once. I beheve I 


liave told you that Mr. Lloyd is a very good preacher, 
but so modest withall, that 'tis not easily done to get 
him into the pulpit ; he is a mighty good sort of a young 
man. D's writings are very differently spoke of, some 
commend them prodigiously, others rail at them, my 
judgment is that they neither deserve to be extolled nor 
condemned! he writes with a spirit that sometimes 
carries him a little towards extravagance, but he means 
very well, and is hearty and zealous in the cause of re- 
ligion, is a man oiexemjjJary charity, but is very particular 
in some of his opinions, which he is apt to maintain 
with obstinacy. Mrs. Barber ' is come to Ireland thi^y 
say in order to transplant her family in England ; tlie 
copple crown'd ^ gentry will be extremely welcome ; the 
13ishop and Mrs. Clayton think themselves much obliged 
to you for the trouble you have had about them. 

Yesterday at five o' the clock in the afternoon we took 
boat and went to a shore about a mile off to gather shells, 
where we found a vast variety of beauties. We were very 
merry at our work, but much merrier in our return 
home, for five of us, viz., Phill, Mrs. Don., Mr. Lloyd, 
and a young clergyman (who is here very often, one Mr. 
Langton), and Penelope all mounted a cart, and home 
we drove as jocund as ever five people were. I laughed 
immoderately at the new carriage, and wished for you 
there, more than ever I did when flaunting in a coach 
and six. The rest of the company were conveyed home 

' " Mary Barber was bora in Dublin, about 1712. She married a ])erson in 
business, and appears to have been an estiniable cliaracter. She j iiblished a 
small volume of poems, under the patronage of Dean Swift and Lord OiTery, 
which are moral and not inelegant." Mrs. Barber died in 1757. — WaMCs H. 

' Referring to the " Copple-crowned fowls," mentioned in a former letter. 


in a chaise, being too proud for carting. You must 
understand that we are as private in this place as heart 
can wish, and that we may do a hundred frolics of that 
kind without any other witnesses than the servants of 
the house. Pray make my compliments in the kindest 
manner to Mrs. Viney and her family. Where is Mrs. 
Butler ? when you write to her, tell her the reason she 
has not heard from hence has been because I would not 
put her to so much expense ; I have no opportunity 
here of getting my letters franked. When I return to 
Dublin, she shall certainly hear from me. We shall 
leave this place about the middle of next month. We are 
all so well pleased with our situation, that if it was con- 
venient to the Bishop, I believe we should prevail on 
him to stay till Xtmas. My humble duty and tenderest 
wishes to dear mama. 

If Bunny is with you, say something very kind from 
your faithful 

M. P. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranvilU. 

Nenagh, Oct. 27, 1732. 

This is the first opportunity I have had since my 
leaving Castlebar, of writing to my dearest sister : i\\Q 
days that we have rested on the road have not happened 
on post days. If you have suffered by that, I promise 
you I have heartily shared with you ; and the want of 
telling you every step I took, made the road tedious and 
dull. Perhaps you'll say that was owing to the bad ways 
and weather ; no indeed ; the roads, though bad for Irish 


ground, have been very tolerable, and the weather has 
favoured us just as you wished it should. 

I writ to you from Mr. Bingham's : we staid there 
Tuesday and Wednesday, and were very merry. Left that 
place on Thursday morning, and dined at another Mr. 
Bingham's, about eight miles from Castlebar, uncle of 
the Mr. Bingham we left — a very good, agreeable sort 
of man, extremely beloved by all the gentlemen of the 
country ; his wife — a plain country lady, civil, hospitable 
and an immoderate lover of quadrille ; their two eldest 
daughters are beauties — reserved, well-behaved, but not 
entertaining, so we passed that day hum-drumlsh. The 
next morning we decamped, and travelled to Tuam ; no- 
thing happened on the road remarkable, sometimes I 
rode, but generally went in the chaise with Phill, that 
being the way I like best. We got early into our inn, 
played at my lady's hole, supped, and went early to bed. 

The next day we arrived at Mrs. Mahone's, staid there 
Sunday and Monday, were free and easy, lived as at 
Killala, everybody went their own way, we danced 
and sung, and were entertained in a very handsome 
friendly manner. We left them Tuesday morning ; jogged 
on through bogs, and over plains, and about three miles 
from the place we were to rest, we passed a fine place 
called Aire's Court, a great many fine woods and improve- 
ments that looked very English. We passed the finest 
river in Ireland — the Shannon, but it was so dark I saw 
but little of it ; it parts Connaught and Munster. The 
town we lay at that night was Bannahir, in the King's 
County. After very little rest in a bad inn, we rose at 
six, and made the best of our way to the place where we 
are now lodged, wliich belongs to Mr. Donellan. The 

VOL. I. 2 c 


country we passed through the last day was ver}'' plea- 
sant ; fine oak woods, great variety of hills, little winding 
rivers, and every pretty circumstance that can make a 
prospect agreeable. This moment I have heard a piece 
of bad news — that the post goes out before twelve. I 
am summoned to breakfast, and after that we are to 
drive about Mr. Donellan's grounds, to see his improve- 
ments. He is going to build, at present he is in a 
small house in the town, which is part of his estate- 
They have very fine children, are sensible and agreable 
people, and live handsomely. 

Nenagh is partly in the barony of Upper Ormond, but chiefly 
in Lower Ormond, county Tipperary, and provmce of Munstcr, 
19 miles from Limerick, and 75 S.W. from DubHn; on the 
mail-road between the two. It was one of the ancient manors of 
the Butlers, by whom the old castle, now in ruins, is believed to 
have been built. The town is on a stream of the same name. 
Fairs are held six times a year, under a grant of Henry VIII. to 
the Butler family. The ruin of the old castle is commonly called 
" Nenagh Round," and consists of a lofty and massive circular 
dungeon, or keep. 

Mrt. Pendarves to Mrs, Ann Granville. 

Nenagh, 30 Oct. 1732. 

As I was saying, my dearest sister, this place has 
afforded me very good entertainment of all sorts. The 
people you know already, by my account of them. Mr. 
Donellan has only laid the plan of his improvements, 
and raised fine nurseries for that purpose ; he is going 
immediately to execute his designs, which when finished 
will be delightful. Nature has done everything for him 


he can desire — fine woods of oak, a sweet winding river, 
and charming lawns, that will afford him sufficient mate- 
rials to exercise his genius on. He seems to have a very 
good taste, and if he could prevail on his countrymen 
to do as much by their estates as he intends doing, Ire- 
land would soon be as beautiful as England, and in some 
circumstances more so, for it is better icatered. I was 
obliged to cut my discourse to you short, so I re- 
solved to give you the sequel the first opportunity ; our 
time for leaving this place is not quite determined. The 
Bishop talks of Thursday ; but I fancy they will 
prevail on him to stay till Monday. 

The weather has been very favorable to us since our 
being here ; we have gone every morning in chaises to 
view Mr. Donellan's grounds. We dine at three, plenty of 
excellent food. After tea and coffee, we divide into differ- 
ent parties. The Bishop and Mr. Donellan go to chess, 
a party of quadrille is made, and the overplus play at 
backgammon, at which I always make one. Mr. Kit 
Donellan is here, and young Nemmy, and we are a jolly 
company ; we sup at ten, and go to bed very late. Yester- 
day we went to church, the Bishop preached. Company 
came to dinner, among them a great heauty, Miss Pretty : 
she is very handsome, and if she was less acquainted with 
it, it would be more agreeable ; she is tall and well shaped, 
and has a great resemblance to Lady Charlotte Hyde 
and Peg Sutton. We are to dine abroad Tuesday and 
Wednesday, to my sorrow ; for I do hate the fuss of dress- 
ing, and unpacking all one's frippery. I have a pretty 
girl at my elbow, about five years old, who has asked me 
a thousand questions ; Mrs. Donellan has very fine 
children, her two eldest boys are at school. At home 

2 c 2 


she lias the little girl I just now named, ahoy about four, 
and two younger; I never saw children under better man- 
agement, and yet have spirit in abundance. I make great 
diversion out of them, and have made them fond of me. 

"We shall not go back to Mrs. Wesley's till after 
we have been at Dublin, which will be more con- 
venient to us all, for our apparel wants to be re- 
cruited. I have taken my brother at his word, and have 
not troubled him with a letter since I began my 
journey. I suppose you let him know my progress, 
and that I am now in the County of Tipperary. After 
breakfast I thought myself sure of time enough to finish 
your letter ; but a walk was proposed, and the company 
insisted on my going with them, and by that means 
my letter was delayed a post. The weather has happily 
favoured us ever since our being here, by which 
means we have had an opportunity of seeing all Mr. 
Donellan's estate, and knowing all his schemes. How 
much more laudable is his turn, than most country 
gentlemen's, who generally prefer a good stable and 
kennell, to the best house and finest improvements, though 
the expense would be rather less. Three days together 
have we dined abroad. 

We shall not go away till Monday ; you must not ex- 
pect to hear from [a piece here out], the town of " Nenagli- 
aroon," that is, in English, Sweet Nenagh ; at the bottom 
of the hill, which is covered with wood, runs the river, by 
the side of which Mr. Donellan can make a walk three 
miles long, of the finest turf that ever was seen. Tlie 
river is so well disposed, that he can make cascades, and 
do what he pleases with it ; I almost envy him the 
pleasure his improvements will give him every hour : 


for next to being with the friend one loves best, I have 
no notion of a higher happiness, in respect to one's for- 
tune, than that of planting and improving a country, I 
prefer it to all other expenses. I can't address any of 
my correspondents till my travels are at an end. 

Oh, I had almost forgot a request 1 promised to make, 
which was for the receipt of your white elder wine ; we met 
with some yesterday that was not quite so good as ours ; 
and Mrs. Clayton wants the receipt mightily. I am 
always troubling you with some trumpery thing or other : 
I wish you could contrive to send me over a pattern of 
your gloves, that I may bring you over a few pair, when I 
come to you ; not that the gloves are better here than in 
England, but they are cheaper. Does your stuff wear 
well ? Mrs. Clayton designs having her assembly when 
she goes to town till Lent, so we must prepare for hurry- 
durry ; but as it will be the only agreeable crowd, I think 
it may be borne once a week. I shall soon now give you 
an account of your old acquaintances, Will. Usher, 
Mrs. Hamilton, etc., whom you have not heard of a 
great w^hile ; till then, my dearest sister, once more 
adieu, wherever I am my best affections are constantly 
with you ; 'tis not possible for me to be more faithfully 

than I am, 

Yours, M. Pen. 

The remark about "dressing" for dinner in the above letter, 
proves that it was not considered indispensable for daily life, which 
might have been inferred from the number of hours spent out of 
doors after dinner, which in a variable climate would have been 
quite incompatible with an elaborate toilet. 

An interval here occurs in the correspondence of two months ; 
but when it is considered that so many of the letters of Mary 


Granville have been preserved, it is not extraordinary that some 
have disappeared. The next letter is from Dublin, in January, 
1732-3, by which it seems she had been at Flatten, with her cousin, 
Mrs. Graham (born Granville). 

Mrs. Peiularves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Dublin, Jan. 4, 1732-3. 

Four packets are due, and yet tliere is a letter of yours 
to answer — is not that monstrous ? The new year too ! 
Some days of that is past, and not one word to mother 
or sister ! " Come, Pen, what have you been doing ? 
answer the charges, and if possible clear up these matters." 
Upon honour, my heart is so full of washing you and 
my mother multiplicity of happiness, that it is ready to 
burst, and I have been miserable in keeping of it in so 
long. I defy all your tenderness and generosity (and 
that's a cold word), to be more busy on this occasion than 
I have been. Ever since the new year has begun, I have 
been considering what could be the greatest happiness 
for my mother and you, and have joined my ardent 
wishes to every thought that could possibly promote your 
happiness. For my own part (for I could not forget one 
you love so well), my chief wish has been our happy 
meeting ; health and joy seems to attend that prospect, 
and many delightfull circumstances that my pen or yours 
cannot so well describe as my heart suggest. 

The last time I writ to you was from Plattin, on this 
day sen'night. I told you we were to have a ball, and a 
ball we had ; nine couple of as clever dancers (though I 
say it that should not) as ever tripped. The knight and I 
were partners, we began at seven : danced thirty-six dances 


with only resting once, supped at twelve, every one 
by their partner, at a long table which was handsomely 
filled with all manner of cold meat, sweetmeats, creams, 
and jellies. Two or three of the young ladies sung. I 
was asked for my song, and gave them " Hop^ she ;" 
that occasioned some mirth. At two we went to dancing 
again; most of the ladies determined not to leave 
Plattin till day-break, they having tliree miles to go home, 
so we danced on till we were not able to dance any 
longer. Sir Thomas Pendergast is an excellent dancer^ — 
dances with great spirit, and in very good time. We did 
not go to bed till past eight, the company staid all that 
time, but part of the morning was spent in Httle plays. 

We met the next morning at twelve (very rakish 
indeed), went early to bed that night, and were perfectly 
refreshed on Saturday morning. We had promised Miss 
More to breakfast with her that morning ; we kept our 
word. Sir Thomas was of the party. I believe I writ 
you word that he was enamoured of that young lady ; 
he carries the affair very cunningly if he has any design 
there ; his behaviour was not at all particular to her ; 
and by what I see of him and his manner of talking, he 
has no thoughts of the matrimonial trap ; he is very civil 
and agreeable, but no gallantry. On Sunday we went to 
church, and on Monday Mrs. Graham brought me to 
town, where I found my good friend in the Green in very 

1 March 10, 1733. " Sir ITiomas Pendergast, Bart,, a relation to hor Grace 
the Duchess of Richmond, elected representative in Parliament for the city of 
Chichester, in the room of the Lord William Beauclerk, deceased." — Histm-iml 
Register. The relationship to the Duchess of Richmond above alluded to, 
must have been that of first cousin, as the mother of Sir ITiomas Peudergast 
was the sister of William, 1st Earl Cadogan, father of Sarah Duchess of 


good health, but complaining of the dulness of tlie town. 
The death of poor Miss Pierson had damped everybody's 
spirits, and stopped the circulation of amusements for 
some time. She was a young woman worth lamenting, 
but as these afflictions wear off, those that mourned 
deepest for her, are now endeavouring to divert them- 
selves and the town. 

To-morrow is to be acted The Distressed Mother, the 
part of Hermione by Miss Molesworth, daughter to my 
Lord Molesworth, Andromache by one Miss Parker, a 
good and pretty girl, Pyrrhus by Lord Montjoy, Orestes 
by Mr. Burnwell, brother to my Lord Kingsland. Every 
performer has twelve tickets to dispose of. The scene of 
action is to be the council-chamber, all the Bishops, 
Judges, and Privy Counsellors are to be there ; Lord 
Montjoy brought us all tickets last night, so we are happy, 
whilst half the girls in town are trembling for fear they 
should not be admitted. 

Yesterday Mrs. Clayton had an Assembly; a great 
many ladies, few gentlemen. I had a commerce table of 
absolute beauties : I divided them, or rather tied them 
together, like a black ribbon in a garland of flowers, for I 
am in mourning for Lord Villiers.^ I am very glad to find 
you keep up to a good spirit at Gloucester ; long may it 
last ! Well then, I find I have done myself much wrong, 
for upon reading over your last letter, I see that / did 
answer it, so I am off of that accusation. I should in- 
deed have writ to you or mama on Tuesday, but I had 
the headach that morning, and was afraid that writing 

' James Fitzgerald, Lord Villiers, eldest son of John first Earl Grandison, 
married Jane, daughter and heir of Richard Butler, Esq., of London, and 
dying in 1732, left an only daughter, who died in 1738, 


would make it worse. Perhaps you take all my letters 
to yourself, my dear sister; if you do you are wrong. It 
is true I address them to you, as they are in the familiar 
style, but positively I mean them as much to my mother 
as to you, and hope she is so good as to take them as if 
I dedicated them principally to her. I should be ashamed 
to trouble her with so many bagatelles, but as I 
address them to you, I take the liberty of writing down 
all my rough thoughts with little or no ceremony. Take 
care of the enclosed letter, my dear, and say some very 
kind things for me to Mrs. Viney and Mrs. Butler. When 
I return to England, I will try to make amends for my 
past silence, but here I have not time, and I hope they 
will accept my best wishes through your means, I think I 
do them no wrong in employing such a messenger. 

To-day I dine at Mr. Stanley Monck*s (iny lord} that 
might have been). In the evening we are to have a 
merry tribe at home to eat oysters — Miss Usher, her 
cousin Miss Ormsby, Miss Kelly, and Miss Bush, 
whose sketch I sent you, but there's something about 
the mouth that does her great injustice, for she has 
graces and sweetness which does not appear in her shadow ; 
but she did it for you, and I would send it : the nose 
and eyes resemble her. 

Mrs. Wesley and those sweet girls are in town ; I 
have not yet seen them. Mr. Wesley is at Dangan 
with his Xtmas companions ; we shall go to him some 
time in February. We had a notable masquerade among 
the servants at Phellin that entertained us mightily. 
Lord George Sackville dressed himself up in women's 

^ " My lord that might have been," is in allusion to her rejection of Mr. 
Stanley Monck, vfhose suit was so much favoured by her aunt Lady Stanley. 


clothes, and played his part very archly ; he is a comical 
spark . Adieu, my dear Anna, receive the compliments 
of the season from this house ; you have had duplicates 
of mine, but I cannot too often repeat how much I am, 
my dearest sister. 

Your affectionate and faithful, 

M. Pen. 

" Hop^ she." The song alluded to must have been the old air 
sung with words beginning : — 

" A crow sat on a pear-tree, a pear-tree, a pear-tree, 
A crow sat on a pear-tree, heigh ho, heigh ho, heigh ho! 
Once so merrily hopp'd she ; 
Twice so merrily hopp'd she ; 
Thrice so merrily hopp'd she ; 
Heigh ho, heigh ho, heigh ho I" 

The above words were repeated by the daughter of a Scotch 
nobleman, who was born in the last century, and who had a large 
collection of very old songs, some of which, and this among the 
number, he used to teach his children. The amusement consisted in 
swallowing the contents of a wine glass of water in three sips 
at the words " hopp'd she," without choking or delaying the song 
long enough to interrupt the air ; the company present sang the 
chorus. For the notes of the air here given the Editor is indebted 
to Mr. W. West, who said he believed them to have been written 
by Mr. T. Cooke, the well-known composer, and that they were 
sung by him at the Beef- Steak Club in Dublin. In the copy 
given by Mr. West, the burden of the song is " Away, away, away," 
instead of *' Heigh ho." 


Once so met - ri - ly hop'd she, Twice so mer - ri - ly hop'd slie. 


Thrice so mer - ri - ly hop'd she a " way, a - way, a - - way 


Mrs, Pendarves to Mrs. Ann QranviUe. 

Dublin, 24th January, 1732-3. 

Last post I answered your letter, my dearest sister, 
and not having any of your sweet words to raise my 
spirits, you must not be surprised if I am exceeding dull. 
The last packets brought me a letter from Saph,^ which 
I designed answering to-day, but I am not at home, 
and all I shall be able to do will be to fill this sheet of 
paper to you. She is in great raptures with Dr. Delany's 
book on Bevelation,* but she does not say if he has 
made her a convert to his opinion about eating of blood. 
It is hard to know what judgment one must make in such 
an affair, where one very learned man says we must do 
one thing, and another as learned tells you 'tis unneces- 
sary. I hope it is not a point necessary to salvation, 
for I protest I am at a loss what to determine : the salvo 
I have, is that if eating blood was against the law of 
God, that the churchmen would not have given it up. 

Last Tuesday I vrrote to you ; that day I dined at Mr. 
Usher's, and in the evening w^ent to Mrs. Southby's 
Assembly, where we met a great deal of company. On 
Wednesday we went to sweet Mrs. Hamilton's, and sat 
a melancholy evening with her, Mr. Hamilton has just 
lost a worthy good friend, and a man generally lamented — 
Sir Ealph Gore.^ He was speaker of the House of Commons 

» " Saph,'"" Sappho (Mrs. Chapone). 

* " Eevelation examined with Candor," by Dr. Delany. Dr. Campbell 
says (1775) " He (Dr. Johnson) told me he had seen Delany when he 
was in every sense gravis annis, " but he was an able man," says he ; 
" his ' Revelation examined with Candour ' was well received, and I have seen 
an introductory preface to a second edition of one of his books, which was the 
finest thing I ever read in the declamatory way." 

' Sir Ralph Gore, M.P. for the county of Donegal, a privy councillor. Chan- 
cellor of the Exchequer, and, subsequently in 1729, Speaker of the House of 


and one of the lords justices, an amiable man in his pri- 
vate life, affable and humane to every creature ; and in his 
public capacity more beloved and less envied than ever any 
man was in his station. He has left his lady with child, 
and six children besides ; her fortune is a very good one, 
but her loss too great to be made up by any advantage of 
fortune. You will say again that I never speak of any 
people of this country but with encomiums : why there 
may be worthless people here as well as in other countries, 
but they have not yet come within my knowledge. 

On Thursday Phill and I dined at Dr. Delany's ; 
there we met Miss Kelly, Lord Orrery, the Dean of 
St. Patrick's, Mr. Kit Donellan, Dr. Helsham — a very 
ingenious entertaining man. In such company you 
may believe time passed away very pleasantly. Swift 
is a very odd companion (if that expression is not too 
familiar for so extraordinary a genius) ; he talks a great 
deal and does not require many answers ; he has infinite 
spirits, and says abundance of good things in his common 
way of discourse. Miss Kelly's beauty and good-humour 
have gained an entire conquest over him, and I come in 
only a little by the by. 

Lord Orrery is very gentle in his manner, and mighty 
polite ; he only dined with us, for he is in the hands of 
lawyers and was obliged to give us all up for those 
vultures : the rest of us staid the evening. We are ini- 
tiated of that witty club, and Thursday is the day of 

Commons in Ireland. Sir Ealph married, 1st, Miss Colville, daughter of Sir 
Eobert Colville : 2ndly, Elizabeth, only daughter of Dr. Aske, bishop of 
Clogher. Sir Ralph died 23rd February, 1732 (qy. 3). He succeeded in 
right of his mother, to the estate of Manor Hamilton, and after beautifying the 
island of Bailyraacmanus, in Lough Earne, gave it the name of Bi lie Tslc. — 
Burke^a Baronetage. 


meeting, but next Thursday we shall not be able to be 
there, it being the first of March. I gave you an account 
of the ball we are to have, of which there are tliree 
Kings and three Queens, viz., Lord Montjoy, Mr. 
Thomson, Mr. Usher, Miss Pennyfather, Miss Biddy 
Southwell,' and Mrs. Pendarves. Yesterday we spent at 
home, had a petite assembly, which we among ourselves 
call a " ridotto," because at ten o'clock we have a very 
pretty tray brought in, with chocolate, mulled wine, cakes, 
sweetmeats, and comfits ; cold partridge, chicken, lamb, 
ham, tongue, — all set out prettily and ready to pick at. 

This morning I had appointed to take the air with 
Miss Kellj, and came to her for that purpose, but by 
the time I came here, it rained and spoiled our sport. 
She kept me to dinner ; Donellan came to us, and I am 
now writing at Kelly's desk. God bless you my dearest 
sister, and adieu, for I can write no more ! All the while 
I have been writing, Don and Kelly have read with an 
audible voice Hans CarveU and some other pretty things of 
that kind, and how can one help listening? but I would 
stop my ears had I anything to say that would be enter- 
taining. My humble duty to my mother, and service to 
all friends. I am 

Yours my dearest sister for ever, 
M. Pendarves. 

In relation to Delville, Walsh said that it was on the other side 
of the Tolka, and laid out by Dr. Delany, who in concert with his 

* Sir Thomas Southwell, Bart., 1st Baron Southwell, married Lady Me- 
liora, daughter of Thomas Earl Coningsby, and had six sons and five 
daughters. Thomas, 2nd baron, was the eldest son, and probably Miss Biddy 
might be one of the daughters, none of whose names are given in Debrett 
or Burke, who with Nicholls (1735) only record the narces of two daughters, 
" Frances and Luisa." 


friend, Dr. Helsham, a physician and also fellow of Trinity College, 
erected the house and laid out the grounds. It was called Hel- 
Del-Ville, formed from the initial syllables of the names of the pro- 
prietors, to intimate their joint property in the place, but the 
first was soon dropped, as having a strange association. It was 
laid out in a style then new in Ireland. It is said by Cowper 
Walker to have been the first demesne in which "the obdurate 
and straight line of the Dutch was softened into a curve, the 
terrace melted into a swelling bank, and the walks opened to 
catch the vicinal country ;" but notwithstanding this assertion the 
walks are in right lines terminating in little porticoes, and valleys 
crossed by level artificial mounds, that on the most eminent point 
stands a temple decorated with specimens of Mrs. Delany's^ skill 
in painting. On the rear wall of which is a full-length portrait 
of St. Paul, in fresco, in excellent preservation, and above a 
medallion of the bust of Stella, said to be taken from the life. 
On the frieze in the front is the inscription, * ' Fastigia despicit 
urbis ;" attributed to Dean Swift, and supposed to be a punning 
allusion to this rural retreat on an eminence, which literally looks 
down on the city. The house still displays the remains of 
specimens of Mrs. Delany's taste ; and the ceiling of the room 
(which was the chapel) is ornamented with a cornice made by her- 
self of real shells, in the manner of modelled stucco, of remarkable 

Delville now (1859) belongs to Sir William Somerville, and it 
is let to Mr. Mallett on a long lease. It belonged previously to 
Percy, Bishop of Dromore. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs, Ann Granville. 

Dublin 20th Feby., 1732-3. 

I have not been again in company with Dr. Swift, but 
I don't fear having my vanity raised by anything lie can 
say. You have used me so much to praise, that I think 

1 Mrs. Delany (Mary Granville), 2nd wife of Dr. Delany, Dean of Down. 


I am proof against all that cau be said from any other 
tongue ; and indeed if I did not suppose you partial to 
me, I should by this time have been monstrously con- 
ceited of my own perfections. Next Thursday we are 
to dine at Dr. Delany's ; it has been twice put off on 
account of the violent colds that everybody in some 
degree has shared ; I hope their fiiry is abated, though 
K}e have not had much reason to complain. They have 
not been mortal with us. I have checked my whims 
as much as possible, but the anxiety that naturally 
rises for friends that are surrounded by any evil, is not 
always to be mastered by reason, and though I endeavour 
to rely on Providence on all occasions, there is a tender- 
ness of heart that will rise sometimes and give me an 
alarm. But still you tell me my mother is well, and that 
you are also in liealth ; pray Grod keep you so ! 

The budding of the trees, and spring nosegays that are 
carried about the streets, give me more pleasure than ever 
I felt at their approach before ; they tell me April is at 
hand, and that introduces a crowd of pleasant thoughts. 
In the midst of my joy, I confess I feel a damp at the 
thoughts of leaving Mrs. Clayton, with very little prospect 
of my seeing her soon again ; for this is not a journey to 
be taken often in one's hfe. The next person I am con- 
cerned to part mth is Mrs. Hamilton, an amiable worthy 
creature as ever I was acquainted with, and one that I 
should think myself happy to have always in my reach : 
she has every good quality of the heart, and all the agree- 
ment of embellishments that can be desired. I will say 
no more of her now, but leave her till you and I can talk 
her over ; 'tis more than probable I shall never see her 
again. There are several agreeable ingenious people to 


whom I am much obliged for having been very obliging 
and entertaining to me, such as Miss Bushe, Miss Forth, 
&c., but Mrs. Hamilton is the person that commands my 
esteem more than any of them, and the one I shall most 
regret. I have before given you an account of my 
men acquaintance, and how they stand in my favour. 

I have put on my black gown for poor Betty Clifford. 
I think my aunt's^ having lived so long is almost 'a 
miracle, but if she long survives her daughter I shall 
begin to think she is immortal. I am very sorry for 
Tommy Woods : had they no other son ? The Dean of 
St. Patrick's answered my Lord Orrery's verses by a 
letter in prose, which Mrs. Barber saw, and says it is 
very pretty. He is in love with Miss Kelly at present. 
He sent her some Spanish liquorish for her cold, and with 
it a fable very prettily applied of Lycoris.^ His works 
are going to be published, collected by themselves, — all 
his verse and prose, four volumes. They are only printed 
in Ireland ; I have subscribed to them. 

I heard nothing of Miss Edwin's matrimony. Pray 
who is the happy man that is possessed of so many 
charms ? I am heartily sorry for Mrs. Foley : I hope the 
Bath will prove beneficial to her. It is particularly good 
for striking out the gout into the limbs, and she is so 
young that I have great hopes she wUl get the better of 
her disorder. How uncertain is happyness in this world ! 
That which we generally look upon as the life of most 
misery, in the end proves our greatest advantage, it 
detaches us from the world, it raises our thoughts towards 

» " My nunt:' Query Mrs. Clifford, aunt to Mr. Pendarves? 
^ The poem above alluded to, does not api>ear to have been published with 
Swift's poetical works. 


attaining what we were created for, reconciles us to death, 
and refines our mind from the prejudices and follies that 
are inseparable from prosperity. 

Sure Trotty is now come to a time of life that ought 
not to be wasted at quadrille. Nothing betrays so great 
an idleness of mind, as that perpetiial seeking out of 
something to divert thought ; and where people hai'e 
talents for more rational entertainment than that of 
shuffling and dealing cards, it surprises and provokes me 
beyond all patience. I am not so great an enemy to 
cards as to be uneasy at them, but I would not make it 
my business to secure company for that purpose ; when 
they come accidentally in the way they are very well. 
But enough of that. The town of Dublin begins to look 
a little pert again, people have shook off their colds, and 
are now making parties for plays, assemblies, &c. To- 
night we are all to go to Mrs. Southby's assembly, a 
charity affair, a poor woman under the same circum- 
stances as Mrs. Hine. To-morrow we shall spend at 
Mrs. Hamilton's, Thursday at Dr. Delany's, Friday we 
are to have a great many people with us by way of a 
private assembly, and Saturday we are to have the black- 
coated gentry, and on Monday we go to the play ; time, 
you see, does not lie heavy on our hands. We shall go 
to Dangan about the middle of March, and stay there a 
fortnight. In my last letter I writ to you to get me a 
good maid if you can. Mr. Usher is to call on us at one 
o' the clock to take the air ; afterwards we are to go home 
and dine with him, the hour draws near and I am not 
yet dressed, so farewell. 

VOL. I. 2d 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

I have given up the trial with Kelly, her heauty and 
assiduity has distanced me, and I will not attempt a 
second heat. At present she is disabled, poor thing, for she 
is confined to her bed with a pleuratic disorder, but the 
Dean attends her bedside : his heart must be old and 
cold indeed if that did not conquer. But Dr. Delany will 
make a wore desirable friend, for he has all the qualities 
requisite for friendship — zeal, tenderness, and application ; 
I know you would like him, because he is worthy. 

Last Monday we were at a new play called the Fate 
of Ambition,^ a bad performance every way, but charity 
carried us thither. I wish people would be contented 
with one's money, and not insist on one's presence — it is 
hard to sacrifice three hours to nonsense wilfully. Poor 
old Abbot ! I believe he is no great loss to the world, 
nor the world to him. 

You may again enclose your letters to the Bishop. 
1 believe I told you before at what time privilege would 
come in. Don't send me any more openings of gloves — 
I will receive them from your fair hands. I have no use 
for them here, for after to-day we shall have no public 
doings. I am not surprised at your account of Sir J. G. : 
want of sense and good principles will lead men into very 
detestable ways. My valentine was Mr. Nugent, a gentle- 
man of this country whom I know nothing of, but that he 
is a Eoman Catholick, and a widower. We were to have 
dined to-day at Dr. Delany's, but being to go to the ball 
in the evening, we have put it off till next Thursday. 

X saw Mrs. Barber last night. She is still confined, and 

* *' The fate of Ambition," a play, written by A. V. Forster. 


the doctor gives but small hopes of her ever recovering 
the entire use of her limbs. Poor woman ! I wish she was 
well settled in England ; she and I talk you over not a 
little when we meet. Oh T forgot to tell you my Lord 
Orrery ^ was at Dr. Delany's the last time we dined 
there, and that he only looked at and talked with Miss 
Kelly, a most formidable young woman ; but she has 
touched me in a tenderer part, for she has so entirely 
gained Mrs. Donellan, that ^vithout joking she has made 
me uneasy, but what does all this serve to show ? why 
to show me my dear sister's love in all its value, that 
never has been turned from me by anybody. 

To-morrow the Hamilton s are to be with us, and on 
Saturday we dine at Baron Waynwrights.'' To-day we 
dine with Miss Bushe and Mrs. Forster. The Bishop 
and Mrs. C. are otherwise engaged. Take care of the 
enclosed to Sally, and solicit my hearing soon from 
her. I gave you an account of the loss we have sus- 
tained by the death of Sir Ralph Gore; my agreeable 
friends the Hamilton s suffer very severely by it. Oh 
how I pity those that lose a worthy friend ! yet 'tis a 
trial most people must prove, unless they leave the 
world betimes. 

' John, 5th Earl of Orrery. He married in 1728, Lady Henrietta Hamilton, 
youngest daughter of George, Earl of Orkney ; she died 12th August, 1732. 
The Earl mariied 2ndly, 30th June, 1738, ^largaret, daughter and sole heir 
of John Hamilton, Esq., of Caledon, county Tyrone. He was distinguished in 
the republic of letters, and was the friend of Swift. The Orrery, originally 
invented by Mr. George Graham, was copied by Mr. Rowley, who made the 
first for the Earl of Orrery. Sir Richard Steele, who knew nothing of Mr. 
Graham's machine, wishing to compliment the (supposed) inventor of so 
curious an instrument, gave Mr. Rowley the praise due to Mr. Graham, and 
called it an" Orrery''* in honour of its first patron. The earl died. 16th Novem- 
ber 1762, and was succeeded by his son, Hamilton, 6th Earl. 

2 John Wainwright, appointed one of the Barons of the Exchequer, in Ire- 
land, 1732. 

2d 2 


The Dean of St. Patrick's is writing a poem on poetry. 
Dr. Delany has seen what is done of it, he says 'tis like 
himself, but he gives us no hopes of seeing it yet awhile. 
Mr. Pope I find has undertaken to lash the age ; I believe 
he will be tired before they are reformed. He says he 
" ivill spare neither friend nor foe, ^^ so that declaring ones- 
self for him, will not secure us from a stroke. 

Miss Kelly, the beauty and the wit, who has been so frequently 
alluded to in these letters, was the daughter of Captain Dennis 
Kelly, who had a very good estate in Ireland, and was committed 
to the Tower in 1722, on suspicion of corresponding with the 
Pretender, but nothing could be proved against hira. The Rev. 
George Kelly was probably her uncle. He was taken up on sus- 
picion of treasonable correspondence, was tried by the House of 
Lords, found guilty, and sentenced to be confined in the Tower 
for life ; but he made his escape in the year 1736. Dean Swift, 
in a letter to Robert Cope, Esq., Dublin, October 9th, 1722, 
writes as follows : — " It is said that Kelly the parson is admitted 
to Kelly the squire, and that they are cooking up a discovery 
between them, for the improvement of the hempen manufac- 
ture. It is reckoned that the best trade in London this winter 
will be that of evidence." 

Alderman Barber, in a letter to Dean Swift, the 2nd (jf July, 
1738, says : — " The report of the Duke of Ormond's return is 
without foundation. His Grace is very well in health, and Hves 
in a very handsome manner. He has Mr. Kelly with him as his 
chaplain^ the gentleman who escaped out of the Tower. A worthy 
friend of yours and mine passed through Avignon a month since, 
and dined with his Grace, from whom I have what I tell you." 
In May, 1733, Miss Kelly wrote to Swift, alluding to her illness, 
and asking for his advice for the books he thinks most proper for 
her to read to improve her mind. The illness under which she 
was then suffering ended fatally : she went to the Bristol Hot 
Wells for the recovery of her health, and on the 6th of November, 
1733, Mr. Ford, in a letter to Dean Swift, thus alludes to her 


death : — " We have lost Miss Kellj, who, they say, was destroyed 
by the ignorance of an Irish physician, one Gorman ; Dr. Beaufort 
was sent for when she was dying, and found her speechless and 

Miss Kelly died the last week in October, 1733. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

Dangan, 5th April, 1733. 

I am sorry I am obliged to Avrite to you on such small 
paper, but I have all indulgencies allowed me here except 
that of retiring from the company : they say as we are 
to be here hut a few days together, it is unreasonable in 
me to give away any of my time from them. I cannot 
be of their opinion, but as they mean it kindly, I must 
not declare openly that I have more pleasure in dedi- 
cating an hour to my dearest sister, than all the enter- 
tainments of the place can possibly afford. 

Your last letter, dated Easter Eve, made me happy 
yesterday — you never wrote a better ; I cannot say more 
in its praise. It grieves me that I am so crampt in 
time as not to be able to answer it paragraph by para- 
graph, but I will do it another day. All the company 
that I wrote you word were invited here are assembled ; 
you are so well acquainted with their different characters, 
that you may easily form to yourself how agreeably we 
live ; liberty {the great happiness of society) reigns 
absolutely here — every one does just as they please. We 
meet at breakfast about ten ; chocolate, tea, coffee, toast 
and butter, and caudle, «&c., are devoured without mercy. 
The hall is so large that very often breakfast, battledore 
and shuttlecock, and the harpsichord, go on at the same 


time without molesting one another. Mr. Wesley (alias 
Paris,) has provided every one of us with a walking-staff, 
whereon is fixed our Parnassus name. Mr. Usher is 
Vulcan ,* young Nemmy Don*", Mars ; and Mr. Kit 
Don, (the Reif), is Neptune. Our staffs are white, and 
when we take our walks, we make a most surprising 
appearance, somewhat like the sheriff's men at the assizes ! 
Yesterday we walked four mile before dinner, and danced 
two hours in the evening, we have very good music for 
that purpose ; at nine we have prayers, and afterwards 
till supper is on the table the organ or harpsichord is 
engaged ; Miss Wesleys are every day improving, they 
are engaging little creatures. Mr. Wesley has three 
canals in his gardens ; in one of them he has the model 
of the king's yacht, the Carolina. It was designed as a 
present for the Duke of Cumberland, but the person that 
had bespoke it died before it was quite finished, so Mr. 
Wesley was lucky in meeting with it ; 'tis worth fifty 
pounds — the prettiest thing I ever saw of the kind, and 
will hold two people, it has guns, colours, &c., with as 
much exactness as the original. In another of his canals 
he has a barge, which he calls the Pretty Betty, that will 
hold a dozen people : we are immediately going to try it ; 
and in his third canal he has a yawl, named after Miss 
Fanny. In his garden there is a fir-grove, dedicated to 
Vesta, in the midst of which is her statue ; at some dis- 
tance from it is a mound covered with evergreens, on 
the which is placed a temple with the statue of Apollo. 
Neptune, Proserpine, Diana, all have due honours paid 
them, and Fame has been too good a friend to the 
master of all these improvements to be neglected ; her 
Temple is near the house, at the end of a terrace, near 


which the four Seasons take their stand, very well repre- 
sented by Flora, Ceres, Bacchus, and an old gentleman 
with a hood on his head, warming his hands over 
a fire. We shall stay here till this day se'night. 
You are remembered, my dearest sister, by all in this 
house in the kindest manner. Phill -spoke for herself 
very lately ; she told you at the same time, that one of my 
eyes was bleared ; but she was more tender of me than 
was necessary, for the redness went off that day, and has 
been very well ever since. The day before we came out 
of town, we dined at Doctor Delany's, and met the usual 
company. The Dean of St. Patrick's was there, in very 
good humow\ he calls himself " my master" and corrects 
me when I speak bad English, or do not pronounce my 
words distinctly. I wish he lived in England, I should 
not only have a great deal of entertainment from him, 
but improvement, 1 am in great hopes Mrs. Barber 
will be well enough to travel with us ; she will be an 
excellent companion for us, for she has constant spirits 
and good-humour. I hope your journey to the Bath 
will not be put off, or at least that you Avill take a jaunt 
with Mrs. Foley to Herefordshire, which indeed, I believe 
will be the pleasantest of the two ; though why should 
I think you grown as dull as I am — you have many 
years to come before you arrive at my station. I own I 
have now lost so much the relish of a public life, that I 
prefer the conversation of an indifferent friend or ac- 
quaintance, to the hurry that necessarily attends all 
crowded places ; but I will give you to your five-and- 
thirtieth year before you may say that. I must finish, 
they say, so adieu. My humble duty to my mother, 
and kind service as due elsewhere. 

Yours, for ever, M. Pen, 



Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Qranville. 

Dangan, 11th April, 1733. 

This place has charms, but like all other of this world's 
pleasures, has its mixture of mortification, I fully in- 
tended writing to you last post, but the company and 
diversions, which are as various as the weather, drag me 
away from my duty, and oblige me to give up an enter- 
tainment more suitable to the inclination of my heart 
than any I can meet with. They say, " Why will you 
be so fond of retiring? shall you not leave us soon 
enough ? your sister then will enjoy you without inter- 
ruption." These are their arguments, and I am forced to 
give a little way to friends who seem to take pleasure in 
my being well entertained. 

The more I am acquainted with Mr. Wesley, the higher 
my esteem rises for him. He has certainly more virtues 
and fewer faults than any man I know ; he has a proper 
mixture of good and agreeable qualities, his wife, his 
children, his friends, his poor and rich neighbours, can 
testify the truth of what I say. He values his riches only 
as they are the means of making all about him happy ; he 
has no ostentation, no taste merely for grandeur and 
magnificence. He improves his estate and all the country 
round him as much as if he had a son to enjoy it (which 
there is no great probability of his having), and his estate 
goes from his daughters to a man that has always been his 
declared enemy. Mrs. Wesley has some very engaging 
qualities, she is generous and of a very easy temper, but I 
cannot say her merits are equal to her husband's. Their 
children are lovely creatures, their prettiness is the least 
part of their merit ; Miss Wesley does everything well 


that she undertakes ; no child had ever more indulgencies, 
and yet she never does anything that can offend. She de- 
sired me to give her humble service to you, and to assure 
you that she has "not forgot you, but loves you still" — 
these are her own words. All that I have writ here I 
believe I have said to you before, but when I name a man 
of so much worth as Mr. Wesley, it is impossible not to 
give him part of that praise which he so well deserves. 
We shall stay here a week longer than we at first 
designed, and I am glad of it, for we live very cheerfully. 
When the weather is fine we take the advantage of it, 
and walk, ride, or go on the water ; Mr. Wesley has a 
very pretty boat on a fine canal, that would reconcile 
you to the water, we carry our music on board, hoist 
our flag, and row away most harmoniously. The county 
town is called Trim. 

We went one morning and breakfasted with a reverend 
clergyman, who gave us very good coffee, and then we 
walked round the town, the chief part of which is a fine 
ruin of a castle that belonged to King John ; his butler, 
gentleman-usher, and standard-hearer were the ancestors of 
the Duke of Ormond, Mr. Usher, and Mr. Wesley. The 
situation of the castle is very fine, on a sloping green hill, 
with the river Boyne gliding at the foot of it ; I never saw 
so pretty a ruin, nor so large a one. We have had some 
very good weather, and now the rain begins again. Two 
of our cavaliers have left us ; Mr. Usher, being high sheriff 
of Dublin this year, was obliged to go to town ; and Mr. 
Kit Don was called away by college business ; they 
both said they would return to-day if possible ; the wind 
and the rain will stop their design ; but we can live ^vith- 
out them. We dance, play little plays, and sometimes 


cards and backgammon ; Nemmy Donn, alias Mars, is 
my constant partner, and a very good one ; Miss Fanny 
Wesley dances every night, and never is out ; she would 
surprise you. 

As for the ridicule Cyrus has been exposed to, I do not 
at all wonder at it ; religion in its plainest dress suffers 
daily from the insolence and ignorance of the world ; 
then how should that person escape, who dares to appear 
openly in its cause ? He will meet with all the mortifi- 
cation such rebels are able to give, which can be no other 
than that of finding them wilfully bUnding themselves, 
and running headlong into the gulf of perdition ; a 
melancholy prospect for the honest-hearted man who 
earnestly desires the salvation of his fellow-creatures. 

I am sorry the Act^ at Oxford happens this year ; I 
fear it will incommode me in my journey to Gloucester — • 
the town will be so cramm'd ; and I have so much a 
higher pleasure in view than any entertainment they 
can give, that I have no thoughts of stopping there. 

* The following explanation of the '^ Act^ at Oxford may be interesting to 
those who do not belong to that University — " The word Act is of vfry ancient 
date, and refers to certain scholastic exercises, prizes, and gathering together of 
the members of the University, with accom])anying festivities which were held 
at that time, being at the close of the academic year, and probably date from 
six hundred years ago. Traces are still preserved of the ceremonial, on those 
occasions, by the Doctors wearing their dress robes at St. Mary's on the 
Act Sunday, viz., the Sunday before the Act day. The day on which these 
ceremonies take place has been always the Tuesday after the first Sunday in 
July (the Tuesday before the end of the Trinity or Act term), and as a general 
rule it will be the Tuesday after either the third or fourth Sunday after 
Trinity Sunday." 




Wliile I was in Ireland it was reported and put in the 
news that Tomasio was returned to England and going 
to marry Louisa. I wrote to him immediately to express 
my great joy at an alliance I had so much wished for, 
and at the same time to the Baroness to know the truth 
of the report, and she informed me there was nothing in 
it — this was just before I left Ireland. I found on my 
coming to England Tomasio was living like a fine gen- 
tleman of the times. I was much grieved about it, be- 
lieving if it continued he must be ruined every way. 
He was very glad to see me, as obliging as usual, and 
pressed me extremely to make him a visit in the 
country, I told him I should be very ready to do it, 
when he had company there which was fit for me to 
keep. He looked confused, and asked me what I meant ? 
upon which I told him what I had heard, and freely 
blamed his conduct ; and told him he could not be a 
happy man, nor make a figure suitable to his birth and 
fortune, till he married somebody equal to him in rank 
and condition ; that he had a great deal of choice before 
him and could not fail, if he would consult his reason 
and judgment. He looked grave and thoughtful for some 
time, and then said, " I know what you wish, I received 
your letter from Ireland," and left me abruptly. A few 
days after he came to see me again, and said, " / can tell 
you a piece of news that will surprise you ; Louisa is 
absolutely engaged — her father told me so this morning." 
I was indeed extremely surprized, having had the night 
before a great deal of conversation with the Baroness, who 


engaged me as much as possible to promote this match 
with Tomasio, and thought it strange the Baron should 
not have acquamted her with this engagement. He 
laughed at my surprise, and told me she was engaged, it 
was true, but it was to him ; I was much pleased with 
the step he had taken, and congratulated him on his 
prudent choice. The Baron and Baroness were in the 
highest joy on this occasion. Laura's^ indiscretion made 
it absolutely necessary it should be kept a secret ; in a 
short time Tomasio made articles it should be so, and he 
was at liberty to choose for himself; Laura liked Louisa 
very well, though she had an inveterate dislike to the rest 
of the family, but Alcander often wished it might be a 
match ; so I was sworn to silence till writings and clothes 
were ready, and then Tomasio went to his mother and 
declared his intentions in form, and she seemingly ap- 
proved of it, so all preparations magnificent on both 
sides went on. 

At my house the young people often met, nothing 
could be more gentle, amiable and engaging than Louisa's 
behaviour; she liked Tomasio very much, who was 
handsome, and when he softened his manner, agreeable, 
though she was not quite satisfied with his behavioui*, 
which I can't say had much of a lover in it, and often made 
me very uneasy ; and when I told him of it, he would 
turn it into some compliment to myself which vexed me, 
and prevented my saying so much as I otherwise should 
have done, and I was willing to think it an awkward bash- 
fulness, which he always had when not quite at his ease. 
But I knew his disposition so well, and Louisa's great merit, 

• " Laura" — Lady Lansdowne, mother of Lord Weymouth, and wife of 
George Lord Lansdowne. 


that when once she was his wife, I was sure he would love 
and admire her, and when in confidence she used to tell 
me her fears about him, I endeavoured to set him 

The autobiography here breaks off abruptly, but the period to 
which it extends is marked by the marriage of Lord Weymouth, 
which took place 3rd July, 1733.^ The last letter in the editor's 
possession, written before Mrs. Pendarves's departure from Ireland, 
is dated 11th April in the same year; and as she then alluded to 
her return to England, and expressed her fears that her journey 
jfrom London to Gloucester would be at the time of the " Act " 
at Oxford, which took place early in July, it is probable that she 
left Ireland a very few weeks after her visit to Dangan, at which 
period she occasionally corresponded with Swift. The letters which 
are here inserted from Mrs. Pendarves to him, were published 
many years ago, but those from the Dean of St. Patrick's to her have 
never before appeared. It is much to be regretted that all Swift's 
replies have not been found, and it is supposed that they were 
given {or taken) by friends, for autographs. 

Mrs. Pendarves's first letter to Swift is written from London, 
the month after her last {'preserved) letter to Ann Granville, from 

1 Married, 3rd July, 1733, the Lord Weymouth to the second daughter 
of Lord Carteret. 



From Mrs. Pendarves's Return from her Visit to Ireland 
TO THE Marriage of her Sister Mrs. Ann Granville. 


From Mrs. Pendarves to Dr. Swift. 

London, May 29, 1738. 


You will find to your cost that a woman's pen, 
when encouraged, is as bad as a woman's tongue ; blame 
yourself, not me ; had I never known the pleasure of 
receiving a letter from you, I should not have persecuted 
you now. I think (a little to justify this bold attack) 
that I am obliged by all the rules of civility, to give you 
an account of the letter you charged me with. I delivered 
it into my Lord Bathurst's hands, he read it before me ; 
I looked siUy upon his asking me what you meant by 
the Posset affair ?^ and I was obliged to explain it to him 
in my own defence, which gave him the diversion you 
designed it should. We then talked of your vineyard , 
he seemed pleased with every subject that related to you, 
and I was very ready to indulge him that way. I did 
not forget to brag of your favours to me : if you intended 

* " Fosset affair." This must have alluded to one of the proposals received 
in Ireland — probably to the story hinted at while at Killala. 


I should keep them secret, I have spoiled all, for I have 
not an acquaintance of any worth that I have not told 
how happy I have been in your company. Everybody 
loves to be envied, and this is the only way I have of 
raising people's envy ; I hope, sir, you will forgive me, 
and let me know if I have behaved myself right. I 
think I can hardly do wrong as long as I am, sir, your 
most obliged and most obedient servant, 

M. Pendarvks. 

Mrs. Donellan is much your humble servant, and as 
vain of your favours as I am. 

From Mrs. Pendarves to Dean Svnft. 

Gloucester, July 21, 1733. 


May I say without offending you, that I was 
overjoyed at the honour you did me in answering my 
letter ? and do not call me formal, when I assure you 
that I think myself made happy by such a distinction. 
It was stupidity in me not to let you know where to 
address to me, but I do not repent of it ; I have by that 
means tried your zeal, but I am afraid your good-breeding 
more than inclination procured me that favour. I am 
resolved to be even with you for what you say about my 
writing, and will wTite henceforward to you as carelessly 
as I can ; and if it is not legible thank yourself. I do not 
wonder at the envy of the ladies, when you are pleased 
to speak of me with some regard : I give them leave to 
exercise their malice on an occasion that does me so much 
honour. I protest I am not afraid of you, and would 
appear quite natural to you in hopes of your rewarding 


my openness and sincerity, by correcting what you dis- 
approve of; and since I have not now an opportunity 
of receiving your favours of pinching and beating, make 
me amends by chiding me for every word that is false 
spelt, and for my had English. You see what you are 
like to suffer : if this promises you too much trouble, do 
not give me so much encouragement in your next letter, 
for upon something in your last I have almost persuaded 
myself, that by your assistance, and my own earnest 
desire, I may in time become worthy of your care. 
Vanity stands at my elbow all this while, and animates 
me by a thousand agreeable promises : without her en- 
couragement I should never have presumed to corres- 
pond with the Dean of St. Patrick's. Some say she is a 
mischievous companion ; I swear she is a pleasant one. 
You must not be angry with me for keeping her com- 
pany, for I had very little acquaintance with her till I 
had received some marks of your favour. 

I received your letter but a little while before I left 
London ; I attended Lord and Lady Weymouth down 
to Long Leat, and left them with a prospect of as much 
happiness as matrimony can give : they are pleased with 
one another at present, and I hope that will continue. 
My Lord and Lady Carteret are both satisfied with the 
disposal of their daughter in so advantageous a station. 
Common report wrongs my Lord Weymouth ; for which 
reason, Cas I am his friend,) I must tell you his good qua- 
lities : he has honour and good-nature, and does not 
want for sense ; he loves the country, but inclines a little 
too much to his stable and dog-kennel ; he keeps a 
very hospitable good house, and is always ready to 
relieve those in distress ; his lady Dr. Delany can give 


you a character of, and is what I believe you will approve 

I came from Long Leat last Saturday, and am now 
at Gloucester with my mother and sister. My Lord 
Bathurst was here about a fortnight ago. I was sorry 
to miss him ; I have a double reason for Hking his com- 
pany. He has made me promise to pay him a visit at 
Oakley Wood, which I certainly will do ; I shall with 
great resignation submit to any punishment you convey 
through his liands. I wish you could make your words 
good, and that I was a "'sorceress ;" I should then set all 
my charms to work to bring you to England, and should 
expect a general thanksgiving for employing my spells to 
so good a purpose. The syren ^ has lately been at Oxford : 
we parted very unwilUngly, she is extremely obHged to 
you for remembering her so favourably. I am glad Mr. 
Donellan pleases you ; I know he has a high value for 
you, and I agree with you in tliinking him a most deserv- 
ing young man. My Lord Lansdown is much at your 
service, laments the days that are past, and constantly 
drinks your health in champaign, as clear as your thoughts, 
and sparkling as your wit ; Lord and Lady Carteret, and 
my Lady Worsley all talk kindly of you, and join their 
wishes to mine for your coming among us. I request it 
of you to make my humble service acceptable to those 
friends of yours that are so good as to remember me. 

I am, sir, 
Your most obHged and faithful humble servant, 

M. Pendarves. 

Be pleased to direct for me at Mrs Granville's, Glou- 

* Mrs. Donellan. 
VOL. 1. 2 E 


Oeorge Lord Lansdowne to his niece Mrs. Pendarves. 

My Dear Niece, London, Augt. 8th, 1733. 

The last post brought me the enclosed from Sir W. 
Carew. I send it you for your farther instructions. 
You mentioned to me at parting a certain Mr. Cox who 
was to come to me, but I have never heard of him. 
Your good sense will make all places agreeable to you, 
but with your pardon, notwithstanding all your fine 
rural descriptions, the pleasures of Courts, and the en- 
tertainments of the town are more at the bottom of your 
heart ; and it is fit they should be so for the sake of the 
public, qualified as you are to grace our assemblies. Nor 
can you ever make me believe you prefer the murmuring 
of a purling stream, to a quaver of Cuzzoni ! Your friend 
the Reverend Dean ^ would tell you this is all " widoice's 
cant'' and ** meer pruderieT I wish Lord Bathurst* success 
with all my heart, but I am told Mr. Stow gives his in- 
terest to Sir John Dutton. Is that possible ? Our pre- 
sent subject for discourse is the marriage of the Duchess 
Dowager of Cleveland ^ with Mr. Southcot. Widow ! have 
a care ; a matrimonial star is reigning over young and 
old, 7/ou may he caught before you are aware, and there is 
no resisting one's destiny. 

I hear all at Long Leat are well, except Lord Inchiquin,* 

^ " Your friend the Dean," — Dean Swift. 

s Allen, first Lord Bathurst, one of the twelve Tory peers created by 
Queen Anne, in 1711 ; created an earl in 1772. He lived to see his eldest son 
Lord Chancellor of England, and died at the age of 91, in 1775, He was 
the friend of Pope, Congreve, Swift, Prior, Hume, Sterne, and other men of 

* Anne, daughter of Sir Wm. Pulteney ; married in 1094, to Charles Duke 
of Cleveland, by whom she was mother of William Duke of Cleveland. She 
was married, secondly, to William Southcote, Esq., of Weybridge, in Surrey ; 
and died February, 1 746. 

* William, 4th Earl of Inchiquin, succeeded his father, 1719 ; manied in 

©[E®[M©!S ©l^^Ki\fQ'[LlLll. 



who has had the misfortune to break his collar hone by 
a fall from his horse, but he is in a fair way of doing 
well. Lady Dysart ^ is in affliction for the loss of her 
youngest daughter, who has not long outlived her 

When you are at Oakly-Wood pray make my com- 
pliments to Lord Bathurst and all that family, to which 
I am always the same humble servant, though my ne- 
cessary retreat from the world, and his necessary appear- 
ance in it, have kept us more asunder of late years than 
I could wish. I am now preparing to taste a little 
country air in the season of figs and grapes : the sports 
of the field 1 leave to others ; if the hares and the par- 
tridge were to live till I killed them, there would be no 
want of game ; for I would not \villingly be the murderer 
of a fly ! 

My comphments I beseech you to your mother and 
my goddaughter, whom you find so agreeable a com- 
panion by a river-side ; — I wish some Orondates would 
surprise you in the midst of your philosophical dis- 
courses, snatch you in his arms, clap you upon his 
crupper, and ride away with you to those regions of bliss, 
where — I leave the rest to Lord Bathurst : he can best 
describe to you the ineffable joys of that country, where 
happiness only reigns ; he is a native of it, but it has 
always been terra incognita to me. 

I am, my dear niece, ever most affectionately. 
Your faithful humble servant, Lansdowne. 

Your aunt and cousins are your humble servants, &c. 

1720, Anne, Countess of Orkney, and secondly in 1761, Mary, daughter of 
Stephen Viscount Mountcashel. He died in 1777, and was succeeded by his 

1 August 1733. Died the Lady Harriot Talmash, second daughter to the 
Right Hon. the Earl of Dysart.— /fisfoncaZ Register. 

2 E 2 


The above letter appears to have been written to Mrs, Pen- 
darves whilst with her mother and sister in the country, after 
having heard her expressions of delight in the enjoyment 
of nature, which from her earliest years ever proved a true solace 
to her, as well as a gratification ; but it was a sort of pleasure in 
which Lord Lansdown could not sympathize. 

From Mrs. Pendarves to Dr. Swift. 
gljl Gloucester, Octr. 24, 1733. 

I cannot imagine how my Lord Orrery came by 
my last letter to you : I believe my good genius conveyed 
it into his hands, to make it of more consequence to you ; 
if it had that effect, I wish this may meet with the same 

If I were writing to a common correspondent, I should 
now make a fine flourish to excuse myself for not sooner 
acknowledging the favour of your letter ; but I must 
deal plainly with you, sir, and tell you (now do not be 
angry), that the fear of tiring you stopped my hand. I 
value your correspondence so highly, that I think of 
every way that may preserve it ; and one is, not to be too 
troublesome. Now I cannot guess how you will take this 
last paragraph; but if it makes me appear affected or silly, I 
will endeavour not to offend in the same manner again. 
Some mortification of that kind is wanting to bring me 
to myself. Your ways of making compliments are dan- 
gerous snares, and I do not know how to guard against 
the pleasure they bring : to be remembered and regretted 
by you, are honours of a very delicate kind ; I have 
been told, that unexpected good fortune is harder to bear 
well than adversity. 

The cold weather, I suppose, has gathered together 
Dr. Delany's set : the next time you meet, may I beg 


the favour to make my compliments acceptable? I 
recollect no entertainment with so much pleasure, as 
what I received from that company ; it has made me 
very sincerely lament the many hours of my life that I 
have lost in insignificant conversation. 

A few days before I had your last letter, my sister 
and I made a visit to my Lord and Lady Bathurst at 
Cirencester. Oakly-wood joins to his park, the grand 
avenue that goes from his house through his park and wood 
is five miles long: : and the whole contains five thousand 
acres ; we staid there a day and half. The wood is ex- 
tremely improved since you saw it, and when the whole 
design is executed, it will be one of the finest places in 
England; my Lord Bathurst talks with great delight 
of the pleasure you once gave him by surprising him in 
his wood, and showed me the house where you lodged. 
It has been rebuilt ; for the day you left it it fell to the 
ground, conscious of the honour it had received by 
entertaining so illustrious a guest, it burst with pride ! 
My Lord Bathurst has greatly improved the wood house, 
which you may remember but a cottage, not a bit better 
than an Irish cabin. It is now a venerable castle, and 
has been taken by an antiquarian for one of King 
Arthur's, " with thicket overgrown grotesque and wild." 
I endeavoured to sketch it for you, but I have not skill 
to do it justice. My Lord Bathurst was in great spirits ; 
and though surrounded by candidates and voters against 
next Parliament, made himself agreeable in spite of their 
clamour : we did not forget to talk of Naboth's vine- 
yard' and Delville.^ I have not seen him since, though 
he promised to return my visit. 

^ " Nahoth^s vineyard " belonged to Dr. Swift. 

2 Dr. Delany's beautiful villa, about a mile from Dublin. 


All the heau monde flock to London to see her Eoyal 
Highness^ disposed of; but I prefer my duty to my 
mother, and the conversation of a country girl, (my 
sister), to all the pomp and splendour of the Court. Is 
this virtue, or is it stupidity ? If I can help it I will not 
go to town till after Christmas. I shall spend one month 
in my way to London at Long Leat.^ I hear that the 
young people there are very happy. 

It is a little unreasonable of me to begin a fourth 

page ; but it is a hard task to retire from the company 

one likes best. I am, sir, your most obliged and faithful 

humble servant, 

M. Pendarves. 

From the Countess of Qranvill^ to Dean Swift. 

Hawnes, Nov. 27, 1733. 

Dear Sir, 

I have received the honour of your commands, 
and shall obey them ; for I am very proud of your re- 
membrance. I do not know we ever quarrelled ; but if 
we did, I am as good a Christian as you are, — ^in perfect 
charity with you ; my son, my daughter, and all our 
olive-branches salute you most tenderly. 

I never wished so much as I do now that I were 
bright, and had a genius which could entertain you, in 
return for the many excellent things that entertain me 
daily, which I read over and over with fresh delight. 

' The Princess Royal, whose marriage was afterwards deferred till March iu 
the following year. 

'^ The country seat of Lord Weymouth. 

^ Grace, widow of George Lord Carteret, daughter of John Granville, 1st 
Earl of Bath, and granddaughter of Sir Bevil Granville. She was created 
Viscountess Carteret, and Countess Granville, 1st January, 1714-15, with 
limitations of those honours to her son John Lord Carteret. 


Will you never come into England, and make Hawnes' 
your road ? You will find nothing here to ofifend you, 
for I am a hermit and live in my chimney-corner, and 
have no ambition but that you will believe I am the 
charming Dean's 

Most obedient, humble servant, 


Mrs. Pendarvet to Mrs. Ann OranviUe. 

Long Leat, 19 Dec. 1733. 
I send all my letters by way of London, and yet I 
find they do not come regularly to you. Letters even 
from London miscarry, unless they direct them by the 
Frome bag : T had one two days ago from Bunny, 
that should have come to me a week ago. I had been 
uneasy at not hearing from him ; but I find he is very 
well, and has picked up a little sober acquaintance at 
Dunce ; he brags of plays and puppet-shows too. Sir 
John Stanley writ a short postcript in the letter ; he has 
been very ill with a strain in his back, which he got by 
pruning his trees at Northend, and a cold upon it which 
he has not yet recovered. I had a letter yesterday from 
Mrs. Shuttle worth, with an account of my poor Don- 
ellan, who had, the day she wrote that letter, been for 
the first time in the park to take the air, but was so 

' The seat of Lord Carteret, afterwards Earl Granville, in Bedfordshire. 
This letter has been published, but is an interesting link in the present chain 
of correspondence, as she\\"ing the variety of pfirsons of the most different dis- 
positions, who were alike in their partiality for the society of Swift. There 
could not be two individuals much more dissimilar, though of the same blood, 
than Mary Granville and the redoubtable Grace Countess Granville, but they 
both agreed on that point. 


weak that Mr. Kelly was forced to carry her down stairs 
in his arms; but when she came' back she was so much 
better, that with a little help she walked up stairs. By 
this time I believe you have received the explanation of 
the five words ; and you will find that Friendship is not 
wanting, though the word is not there. I sent you a few 
unmeaning letters last time I wrote, I thought to have 
finished the alphabets by this time, but I have not time. 

I have not yet settled the afiair of Buckland, and I 
am afraid I shall not, for Lord W.^ does not care to part 
with it. I thank you, my dear, for your desiring to 
work a cheneil manteil for me ; but to tell you the truth 
I am sick of manteils, and I have two by me. I am 
glad your hood answers your labour so well; Lady 
Weymouth is very impatient for her box. I am mightily 
pleased at your having a summer's ramble in view ; it 
will be agreeable and healthy, and very convenient so 
near Gloucester. I wish you may have good entertain- 
ment from your players. 

Whilst Lord and Lady Carteret were here, Lord Wey- 
mouth sent for the players from Bath, and had scenes put 
up in the great parlour : they acted two plays very well. 
When they arrived with their baggage. Lady Wey- 
mouth says it was as entertaining a part as any, and 
put her in mind of Scarron's comical romance. We have 
a great mind to have a little dancing this Xtmas, but we 
shall hardly bring it to bear, for Lord Weymouth hates 
it, and is afraid Lady W. should use too much exercise ; 
but he is very glad of any pretence to put it off", though 
he is very obliging to her, and excessively fond of her, 

» "Lord W."— Lord Weymouth. 


and I don't wonder at him, for if any man's heart is to 
be won by merit, she has a very good title to his ; I 
never saw more complaisance and sweetness of manner 
than she has in her whole behaviour. Lord 0. has at last 
put on a shoe, but not a boot ; he is expected here every 
day, for he promised to make his first visit to Long 
Leat as soon as he was able to go abroad. Some men 
are expected from the Bath to spend a day or two here, 
old companions of Mr. Yilliers's ; I don't expect much 
from them. Mr. Harbin^ makes me an hour's visit 
every morning, which time I think very well spent, for 
he is improving and entertaining. Since my moving 
into a new apartment, and that my room does not smoke, 
I have not taken my morning walks in the gallery, for 
that broke in a little too much on my morning exercises. 
I have made up my green muff, and it looks very pretty ; 
Lady W. liked it prodigiously, but I could not make 
her a compKment of it, because it is a counterpart of 
yours, and a sort of emblem of you and me, and so I 
must cherish it. 

I think I wrote you word long ago that Mrs. Helen 
Seymour was dead ; 'tis thought she might have been 
recovered, if the old miser her father^ would have been 
at the expense of sending for a good physician. She was 
the best of the family ; she had a fortune of ninety 
pounds a year in her own power, which she left to two 
of her sisters. Sir Edward allowed them forty pounds 
a year a-piece, and since that legacy he has stopped it, 
a notable instance of his fatherly love and generosity. 

1 " Mr. Harbin," query Lord Wejinouth's chaplain ? 

2 Sir Edward Seymour, 5th baronet, and father of Sir Edward Seymour, 
who succeeded, in 1750, to the Dukedom of Somerset. 


I told you before that I had begun Lord Clarendon's 
History; it entertains me very much, and Lady W. is 
mightily pleased with it ; I am very glad to introduce 
anything to her that can please and inform her at the 
same time. 

There are no other letters preserved from Long Leat, where 
Mrs. Pendarves spent the Christmas of 1733. Her next letter to 
her sister is in February of the new year. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Qranville. 

L. B. Street, 16 Feby, 1733-4. 

My valentine was my Lord Orkney/ I have fixed it on 
the Earl, and have some thoughts of marrying him ; 
then bury him decently in Westminster, and enjoy the 
dowagership most gallantly. Wliat think you of this 
scheme? I won't pursue it till I have your consent. 
You shall be very welcome to Clevedon, 'tis a fine place. 
I can't brag much of my eye. I find it still weak, and 
it wiU be humoured ; though it went pinking and blinking 
to Court last night, where I saw nothing bright enough 
to dazzle it much. I went with Lady Dysart and Lady 
Weymouth; we only went to the King's drawing-room. 
I had a bow from Periander, but I brushed by him for 
fear of his throwing some awkward sentence at me out 

* George Hamilton, 5th son of William Duke of Hamilton, was created in 
1696, Earl of Orkney, Viscount Kirkwall and Baron Dechmont. He was a 
distinguished military officer, and in 1712 served as a general of foot iindcr 
the Duke of Ormond in Flanders. He married Elizabeth Villiers, sister of 
Edward, 1st Earl of Jersey, became a widower in 1733, and died at the age of 
71, in 1737, leaving three daughters, the eldest of whom, Anne, became in 
her own right Countess of Orkney. 


of that disagreable mouth of his, and then the ladies I 
was with would have led me a weary life. 

Now you expect some account of our cousin Spencer.^ 
They were married on Thursday between eight and nine 
o' the clock at night. Those at the wedding were the 
Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, Duke and Duchess 
of Bedford, Sir Eobert Worsley and my lady," Lord 
Morpeth, Lord Winchelsea, Col. Husk", Col. Montague, 
and all Mrs. Spencer's brothers and sisters. After they 
were married they played a pool at commerce, supped at 
ten, went to bed between twelve and one, and went to 
Windsor Lodge the next day at noon, and are to return 
on Monday ; they have taken the lodging Mr. Percival 
had in Conduit Street. Her clothes were white satin 
embroidered with silver, very fine lace ; and the jewels 
the Duchess of Marlborough gave, which I believe, I 
have already given you an account of, so I will not 
repeat it. The rest of her clothes are a pink and silver, 

1 Georgiana Carolina Carteret, fourth daughter of John Lord Carteret, after- 
wards Earl Granville, was bom March 12, 1716, and baptized on the 5th of 
the following month. King George II. and Queen Caroline were her sponsors. 
She was married February 14, 1733-4, to the Honourable John Spencer, brother 
of Charles Duke of Marlborough. Her son by this marriage was created Earl 
Spencer in 1765. The Daily Courant for February 15, 1734, thus reports this 
marriage. "Yesterday, the Hon. John Spencer, Esq., brother to his Grace 
the Diike of Marlborough, and grandson to her Grace the Duchess-dowager of 
Marlborough, was married at St. George's, Hanover Square, to the third 
daughter of the Eight Hon. the Lord Carteret, a beautiful young lady, with a 
fortune of 30,000?." 

2 Sir Robert Worsley, of Appuldercombe, born in 1669, who married in 
1690, Frances, only daughter of Thomas, first Viscount Weymouth ; and had 
issue, 1. Robert, bom in 1695, died unmarried in 1714 ; 2. Thymee, bom in 
1711, married Henrietta Maria, daughter of Charles Wither, Esq., of Hall 
Place, Hants, but died s. p., in 1741 — his widow married secondly Edmund 
Bramston, Esq. ; 3. Francis, married to John, Lord Carteret, afterwards Earl 
of Granville, and had issue. Sir Robert Worsley died in August, 1747, and 
was succeeded by his cousin. 


a flowered silk, white ground, a blue damask night- 
gown, and a white damask the robing and facings em- 
broidered with gold and colours ; a pink plain poudesoy, 
a flowered silk, green ground, her laces and linenvery 
fine. Everybody at the wedding was magnificent. Lady 
Dysart, white and purple and silver, Lady Weymouth, 
blue and silver. Their clothes are now laid by for the 
royal wedding, which will be about three weeks hence, 
'tis thought. I have got my wedding garment ready, 
'tis a brocaded lutestring, white ground with great ramp- 
ing flowers in shades of purples, reds, and greens. I gave 
thirteen shillings a yard ; it looks better than it describes, 
and will make a show : I shall wear with them dark 
purple and gold ribbon, and a black hood for decency's sake. 

Who should I see at Court last night, noddling her 
head, but Molly Winnington,^ who by the by, I fear I 
have afironted, for I could not get at her to speak to 
her, nor have I visited her ; for how is it possible for 
one that lives on the walls of Hyde Park, to visit at 
St. G's? 

Our cousins are now growing the most considerable 
people in the kingdom. If their heads don't turn with 
it, I may say of them as once was said of a man that 
bragged he could look down a steep precipice without 
being giddy — that he had the strongest or the weak- 
est head in the world. Well, my dear sister, we are 
certainly the poorest of our family, but yet I would not 
change with any one of them every circumstance of my 
life; what say you? But don't fear that mauvaise 
horde of yours ; a little use will wear it off", and / hope 

1 Mary, eldest daughter of Francis Winnington, Esq., of Broadway, in 
Worcestershire ; M.P. for Droitwich. 


it will be put to the trial. ^ I have not yet seen Lady 
Hertford, but shall some morning next week. The 
Prince of Hesse Cassel will have Princess Amelia.^ Look 
in your map and see how you like that country ? 'tis better 
than the Prince of Orange's/ and a very cheap place. 

I have sent the hartshorn^ salts^ solos, and two or three 
poems, that perhaps you have seen — Lord Lansdowne 
sent them to you; he expresses great liking for you. 
I am delighted with the thoughts of your country 
seat this summer. The work I design sending you is 
some I have ready drawn, but it must not be traced — 
traced work is very ugly, and quite out of fashion. 
You that have a knowledge of shading cannot be at a loss, 
and if you should spoil a bit of canvass, what does it 

Sister Griselda received your packet. She waits for 
something to send you in return. The fortune of the 
Wesleys is not on so good a foot as you imagine, for 
if they have no son, the estate goes to one that has 
used them very ill. 

The following verses were found among Mrs. Delany's corre- 
spondence, written on a sheet of paper surrounded by a garland of 
roses : — 

To y** HonWe. Geovgina Caroline Carteret, on May 1st, 1731 : — 

Hail beauteous emblem 

Of the blooming year ! 

On thee y^ rose and lilly shew, 

Fairer by far, much sweeter too, 

Than bush or meadow bear. 

1 This sentence was in allusion to the expectation of Mrs. Anrt Granville's 
having an appointment at court. 

2 This marriage did not take place. 

3 William Prince of Orange, who married Ann, Princess Royal, March 14, 


And durst I have a wish, 

I wou'd appear a lilly too, 

That almost vies, 

With snow that on yJ" bosom lies, 

And grow for ever there. 

By ye Reverend Mr. Fletcher. 

The following account is given in the Daily Courant of Janu- 
ary 21, 1734, a month before the marriage of Mr. Spencer and 
Miss Carteret : — " On Tuesday last the estates of his Grace 
Charles Duke of Marlborough, in Northamptonshire and Bedford- 
shire, together with Sunderland House in Piccadilly, were in 
due form conveyed to the Hon. John Spencer, his Grace's only 
brother, pursuant to the last will and testament of the late Duke 
of Marlborough — that then, and in that case, he would recommend 
it to the Duke of Marlborough to settle such estates he was before 
in possession of on his younger brothers or brother, or give them or 
him an equivalent in money in lieu thereof, within three months 
after the acquisition of those honours." 

" We hear that the Duchess Dowager of Marlborough hath 
settled 5000?. per annum on the Hon. John Spencer, her grand- 
son, and his heirs for ever." 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

L. B. Street, 2 March, 1733-4. 

My Dearest Anna, 

I am so much indebted to all my correspondents, 
that I cannot possibly afford you this post a folio sheet, 
having several letters to write ; but I make yours the 
first for fear some impertinence otherwise might happen, 
and rob you of your due. I have received the ham and 
woodcocks, and am prodigiously obliged to my dear mama 
for them. But I am sorry she has put herself to that 
expense and trouble ; surely I want no new mark of 
her goodness to me, that have already received more 


than I can ever return. I am indebted to you for the 
carriage of the last things I had from Grlocester. What 
could make you pay the carriage there ? I have this day 
sent your box, some flower-seeds from Lady Sunderland, 
three caps for mama, and I have tried to get the 
violet comjlts, but no such thing is to be met with ; 
and your fan, which is mounted with an Indian paper — 
no others are now worn, and the sticks are too weak 
for any other kind of paper. If you have not seen Tit 
for Tat,^ I believe it will amuse you — I have cramm'dit 
in the box. It was occasioned by an abusive poem of 

Lord H to a clergyman, where he mauls poor Pope 

unmercifully and unskilfully : both the poems are to- 
gether. I have nothing else worth reading, or you 
should have it. 

Yesterday being the anniversary of her Majesty's 
birthday, the same was observed with the usual cere- 
mony and magnificence. I can't say I saw much of it ; 
for I have kept my clothes for the wedding. I was at 
Lady Carteret's yesterday, and saw her three married 
daughters, most completely dressed, and three very fine 
figures they were, though very difierent beauties. Lady 
Dysart's face is handsomer titan ever ; but Lady Wey- 
mouth's person bears away the bell, even from the Marl- 
borough race, and Mrs. Spencer is neither so handsome 
as Lady Dysart, nor so genteel as Lady Weymouth, — 
and yet, altogether, she is as agreeable as either of them ; 
Lady Dysart's clothes were pink armazine trimmed with 
silver. Lady Weymouth, white brocaded lutestring with 
silver and colours, Mrs. Spencer, white satin embroidered 

^ Tn the Daily Journal for January 26, 1734, is an advertisement. " This 
day is published, price 6d., Tit for Tat, or an answer to the Epistle to a 


with silver ,* Lord Weymouth gave her the day before the 
birthday, a brilHant necklace worth two thousand pounds. 

Now I have entered upon this subject, I must tell you 
the present the Prince of Orange has prepared for his 
princess — a necklace of rose diamonds ; the five middle 
diamonds are half the necklace, two of which are worth 
four thousand pound, her earrings of proportionable value ; 
a green diamond to hang as a bob to her necklace of a 
vast size, and five loops for her stays, the finest that he 
could get in England. He presented her before his sick- 
ness with pearl much finer than any of the Queen's. The 
day for the royal nuptials is not yet named ; the Prince 
is to be in town on Monday next. 

I suppose there is a letter for me at Lord Weymouth's, 
but they are not stirring yet, for I am a very early person, 
and rise every morning at seven, though Dean Berkley^ 
that was, (now Bishop of Cloyne), and his lady rise every 
morning at four o the clock : they are the most primitive 
couple that ever I heard of. I forgot to tell you in 
my last, that Mr. Huddleston should have his case well 
drawn up, and presented to the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury : if he has no better means of doing it, T will 
endeavour to find out somebody to do it for him, 
if you will get all those circumstances of his life stated, 
that may be of service to him. Poor Barber is. very 
much dejected, and I am sorry for it ; I doubt her cir- 
cumstances are not in the best way, and this last affair 
has been very troublesome and mortifying to her, 
though there can he nothing against her of consequence.^ 

^ George Berkeley, Dean of Derry, was appointed to the bishopric of Cloyne 
in 1734. 

* The allusion to Mrs. Barber proves that her patrons did not give credence 
to her having written the letters to Queen Caroline before alluded to. 


Now for a little of my own affairs ! Mrs. Basset's agent 
is glad to pay the half-year as due; but as to the 
charge of security, they offer me fifty guineas to do 
them a courtesy which is worth twenty thousand ! but 
they have teazed me and tired me so much, that I have 
offered to compound the matter ; Bunny will not be 
pleased with this composition, but I am sick of having 
any more dealings with them. 

I am to dine to day at Lord Lansdown's, to meet Sir 
William Carew and Sir John S* Aubyn ;^ Lady Lansdown 
and Miss Granville were both very fine yesterday. You 
find how unnecessarily you tormented yourself at not 
hearing from me ; pray don't be so easily alarmed, 'tis 
the way to be miserable. Our real evils are as much as 
our weak natures can possibly support ; we must always 
strive against imaginary ones, or to what purpose are we 
endued with reason? Let me know what letters you 
want to complete your alphabet; in what character is 
Miss Beal to go with the Orange family ? A sub-maid, 
I guess. I must finish. Adieu, my love, 

I am yours with all truth and tenderness, 

M. P. 

My humble duty to dear mama. If you can get a 
tolerably neat frame and glass at Glocester, put Swift's 
picture in one before you give it Mr. Newton, and let me 
know what it comes to. 

^ Sir John St. Aubyn married, 1725, Mary, daughter and co-heir of Peter 
de la Hay, Esq. Xo date of his death is given in Burke's Extinct Baronetage. 

VOL. I. 2 P 


From the Countess Granville to Mrs. Pendarves. 

Hawnes, March 14th, 1733-4. 

Dear Cousin, 

I accept of your cliallenge, and am ready to try 
who shall be tired first. Your visits are most agreeable, 
and can never be too long; I wish I could entertain 
you as much, or serve you in the pursuit you are in, — an 
after-game is more difficult than a first. However, I 
think you are in the right way, as to your man acquaint- 
ance. He has too much honour to promise, and not 
keep his word, but as to your ladies, I have no opinion 
of anything they say ! I don't doubt but you make your 
court by being on that side in music, everything runs into 
party, and with many without any judgment ; but I don't 
say that of 2/ou, for you have a right taste in everything. 
I am very glad my young ladies think so much of 
music, as to be of either side. I hope Lady Weymouth 
will find time to recover her hand, it is only practice can 
do it ; she tells me she was about buying a harpsichord. 
I have so entirely given up all my authority to her Lord, 
that I have no directions to give in any particular. I 
am much pleased with your saying I have the honour of 
his good opinion, for he has a great share in my heai-t ; 
his right judging of everything, and his good nature 
charms me ; I hear he is one of the handsomest beaus 
in town, and shines as much as his wife does. Your 
commending Fanny ' pleases me very much ; she is now 
at her worst, but I hope will mend every day. Pray be 
so good as to hear her play and sing, and let me have 

* Lady Fraaces, youngest daughter of Lord Carteret, and granddaughter to 
CJountess Granville. 



your opinion ; she promises me to take a great deal of 
pains, which Lady Weymouth never would do, else 
she had sung as well as her mother, for she has as sweet 
a voice, and strength would have come with often practice, 
and a good deal of pains, which made Lady Carteret's 
what it is. Till she learned of Mr. HoUcome a few years 
ago she would never put out her voice. There is, I 
think, no accomplishment so great for a lady as music, 
for it tunes the mind. My daughter tells me Mrs. 
Spencer will improve her music with learning, for Mr. 
Spencer loves it extremely, and plays himself very weU 
on the German flute. 

The Boyal Wedding will give you matter to fill a 
letter; I guess you will venture into the booth, and 
pretty women never want people to take care of them. I 
wish Sir John Stanley would make me a visit and see my 
improvements, when I am alone, that I might have him 
all to myself two or three days longer. I know he can't 
spare time, but whether he will or no give me that 
pleasure, pray tell him I love and honour him, for I have 
been long acquainted with his generosity, good sense, and 
good nature : he is the reverse of his friend, my neighbour 
at Great Park, who makes a sad figure ; I never see 
him, which I am not sorry for. I tell you all my 
thoughts, for I have the utmost esteem for you ; and on 
all occasions I shall be glad to show you how much 
I am, dear cousin. 
Your most affectionate humble servant, 


The above letter was written by Grace, Countess Granville, 
familiarly called " the old Countess," and also ** the Dragon." 
She was the youngest surviving daughter of John, 1st Earl of 

2 F 2 


Bath ; was born Sept. 3, 1654. She married, March 9, 1674, 
George, 1st Baron Carteret, who died 22nd Sept., 1695, in the 
26th year of his age. By the death of her nephew, William 
Henry Granville, Earl of Bath, in 1711, she became a coheir of 
his estate, and in 1715 she was created Viscountess Carteret and 
Countess Granville in her own right. She died in 1744, and 
was buried in Westminster Abbey. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranvUle. 

16 March, 1733-4. 

My dearest sister, with a muddled head (the effects of 
raking), I shall attempt to give you some account of our 
Royal Wedding.^ You must not expect a very intelligible 
description, for it is hard to make that plain which 
appeared to me all confusion. As to the ceremony that 
was performed on Thursday, I refer you to newspapers, 
where you will meet with better information than any I 
can give you ; for I was not there, which I have since 
repented, for it was in the greatest order that it could 
be, and much less fatigue than Court was yesterday. 

The Princess of Orange's dress was the prettiest thing 
that ever was seen — a corps de robe, that is, in plain 
English, a stiff-bodied gown. The eight peers' daughters 
that held up her train were in the same sort of dress — all 
white and silver, with great quantities of jewels in their 
hair, and long locks : some of them were very pretty and 
well shaped — it is a most becoming dress. They all wore 
it yesterday, except the Princess, and she was in a 
manteau and petticoat, white damask, with the finest 

' Anne, Princess Royal, born October 22, 1709, married March 14, 1734, to 
William Prince of Orange, and died in 1759. 


embroidery of rich embossed gold and festoons of 
flowers intermixed in their natural colours. On one side 
of her head she had a green diamond of a vast size, the 
shape of a pear, and two pearls prodigiously large that 
were fastened to wires and hung loose upon her hair : on 
the other side small diamonds prettily disposed ; her 
earrings, necklace, and bars to her stays all extravagantly 
fine, presents of the Prince of Orange to her. The 
Prince of Orange was in a gold stuiF embroidered with 
silver ; it looked rich but not showy . The King was in a 
gold stuff which made much more show, with diamond 
buttons to his coat; his star and George shone most 
gloriously. The Queen's clothes were a green ground 
flowered with gold and several shades ; but grave and very 
handsome ; her head was loaded with pearls and 
diamonds. The Prince of "Wales was fine, as you may 
suppose, but I hardly ever remember men's clothes. 
Princess Amelia had white embroidered with gold and 
scarlet ; Princess Caroline, white embroidered with silver, 
green and purple. The Prince of Wales dances better 
than anybody, and the Prince of Orange most sur- 
prisingly well considering his shape. 

The Princess of Orange's servants were all presented to 
her yesterday morning ; Peg most outrageously affronted 
by being presented the tkird when she expected to be the 
first. She was bedizened sumptuously, pink satin with a 
silver trimming that cost fifty guineas ; Leonora did not 
consult her complexion, her clothes were a black green 
flowered with silver, and some very dull colours. Oh, 
what a figure she cut ! Lady Sunderland, with whom I 
went, was very fine ; a white and gold stuff and coloured 
flowers ; Bess in a pink and gold silver damask. Now 


you'll want to know where I saw all this, why I went in 
the morning with Lady Sunderland and the Duchess of 
Marlborough. We went at one — such crowding, such 
finery I never saw ; with great difficulty I made my curt- 
sey, and the Queen commended my clothes. We got home 
to dinner about five, and went to the ball at eight, were 
so squeezed for half an hour that 'twas insupportable, but 
Lord Baltimore^ permitted us to go up into the gallery : 
he made way for us, and we were happily placed where 
we could see everything. Lord Crawford'^ was in a white 
damask laced with gold. No women danced but the 
princesses and the trainbearers. 
We got out very easily at twelve. 

There is some ambiguity in the wording of a sentence at the 
commencement of the above letter relative to the royal marriage, 
as it would appear on first reading that Mra Pendarves was not 
present, and yet that she gave the account as that of an eye- 
witness, at the same time referring her sister to the newspaper. 
But the facts are as follows : The Princess Royal was married to 
the Prince of Orange on Thursday the 14th of March. Mrs. Pen- 
darves says that she repented that she did not witness the mar- 
riage, for the account of which she refers her sister to the paper. 
The details of dress, &c., which she afterwards gives from her own 
observation, was at the drawing-room the following day (Friday, 
15th), of which she said it appeared "all confusion," but that the 
marriage, she understood, had been conducted with •' the greatest 
order possible ;" the following account extracted from the papers 
of 1734, may be interesting to those who witnessed the recent 
marriage (1858) of the Princess Royal of England to observe the 
differences in the ceremonial. 

1 This is the first mention of Lord Baltimore since 1730. 

3 John Lindsay, Earl of Crawford, is mentioned by Horace Walpole as 
having died January 1750. His life, which has nothing remarkable in it, 
was afterwards published in a large quarto. 


" On Thursday, the 14th of March, came on the marriage of the 
Princess Royal with his Serene Highness the Prince of Orange, 
on which occasion great rejoicings were made. The ceremony 
was performed in the evening, and the procession from the palace 
through the gallery built in the parky^ to the chapel contiguous to 
the palace, was in the following manner :— Drums and trumpets 
and kettle-drums, and the Serjeant Trumpeter, in his collar of 
S.S., and bearing the mace ; the Master of the Ceremonies, with 
one of the chiefest officers of the Bridegroom ; Gentleman Usher of 
the Bridegroom, between the two senior heralds ; the Bridegroom, 
in his nuptial apparel, with the collar of the Garter, conducted by 
the Duke of Grafton, Lord Chamberlain, and Lord Hervey, Vice- 
Chamberlain, and supported by the Earls of Scarborough and 
Wilmington, Knights of the Garter, being both batchelors, wearing 
their collars. The officers attendant on the Bridegroom followed 
in pairs, according to their rank. Upon the entry into the chapel 
the attendants went to the seats assigned to them, and the Bride- 
groom was brought by his conductors to the stool placed for his 
Highness, next below his Majesty's chair of state on the haut-pas. 
The Lord Chamberlain and Vice-Chamberlain returning back to 
conduct the Bride, the drums and trumpets likewise returning 
without playing, and then playing in like manner before the pro- 
cession of the Bride, and afterwards betbre the procession of their 
Majesties. The Bride, in her nuptial habit, and wearitig her 
coronet^ was conducted by the Lord Chamberlain, supported by 
the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Cumberland. Her train 
was carried by Lady Caroline Manners, Lady Louisa Bertie, Lady 
Caroline Pierpoint, Lady Betty Seymour, Lady Die Gray, Lady 
Caroline Darcy, Lady Fanny Montague, and Lady Fanny Pier- 
point. {TJie names spelt as here given.) 

" The Prince of Wales's servants preceded him one by one in a 

' In allusion to this gallery, Walpole mentions an anecdote of the Duchess of 
Marlborough, who with her characteristic insolence expressed her wonder as to 
when her " neighbour would take away his orange chest," which darkened the 
windows of Marlbro' House. The gallery was erected for the procession from 
the windows of the great dravnng-room at St. James's across the gardens to the 
Lutheran Chapel in the Friary. 


line ; the royal Bride's, and the Duke of Cumberland's servants 
preceded them in the same manner. Unmarried daughters of 
peers preceded in pairs, as also peeresses. 

" His Majesty, in the great collar of the Garter, was preceded 
by all the Bishops in their episcopal habits, who followed the Knight 
Marshal, the Heralds, Knights of the Bath, (not peers,^ Privy 
Councillors, {not peers,) Sir Robert Walpole, Knight of the Garter, 
with his collar, alone, Sir Conyers Darcy, Knight of the Bath, 
with his collar, alone, in his place as appointed for the Comptroller 
of the Household, and the Barons. The Bishops were followed by 
the Viscounts, Earls, Marquesses, and Dukes, two and two, accord- 
ing to their respective precedencies : two provincial Kings of 
Arms, Lord Privy Seal, Lord Chancellor, Garter King of Arms, 
between two Gentlemen Ushers, the Earl Marshal, with gold staff, 
Sword of State, borne by the Duke of Montagu, K.G., supported 
by the Lord Chamberlain and Vice-Chamberlain. 

" After his Majesty followed the Captain of the Guards, having 
on his right the Captain of the Band of Pensioners, and on his left 
the Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard ; the Earl of Pembroke, 
Lord of the Bedchamber in waiting, Sir Robert Rich, and Col. 
Campbell, grooms of the bedchamber in waiting. Her Majesty 
was preceded by Mr. Coke, her Vice-Chamberlain, supported by 
the Earl of Grantham, her Lord-Chamberlain, and the Earl of 
Pomffet, her Master of the Horse. 

"The Princesses Amelia, Caroline, Mary, and Louisa, were 
supported severally by two Gentlemen Ushers. The ladies of her 
Majesty's bedchamber, maids of honour and women of the bed- 
chamber followed the Princesses in pairs, according to their pre- 
cedencies, the gentlemen pensioners walking in two rows on each 

" All persons in the procession, on their entering the chapel, 
retired to the several places appointed for each degree or class. 
None remained on the haut-pas besides their Majesties, seated on 
their chairs of state, and the Royal Family, on stools, excepting the 
Lord of the Bedchamber in waiting, behind the King, the lord 
who bore the sword and continued holding it erect on his Majesty's 


right hand, and the Lord Chamberlain, with the Vice-Chamberlain 
near him on the left hand of his Majesty. Her Majesty's Lord 
Chamberlain, Master of the Horse, and Vice-Chamberlain, stood 
upon the haut-pas behind her. The ladies of the bedchamber, 
maids of honour, and women of the bedchamber went to the places 
assigned them. After the Bishop of London, (as Dean of the 
chapel,) had given the blessing, their Majesties removed to tlie 
traverse erected on one side of the altar ; the Prince of Orange, 
then leading the Princess, went up to the rails of the altar, and 
knelt there. When the Dean had finished the service in the 
liturgy, the married couple rose and retired back to their stools on 
the haut-pas, while the anthem was sung. On the return of the 
procession the Prince of Orange was supported by two marined 
dukes, Knights of the Garter (viz. Richmond and Rutland). The 
Princess was supported as before by her two royal brothers, her 
train carried as before, but all the married ladies in pairs went 
next to the Princess, and all the unmarried ladies who in the 
entry preceded the married ones, now followed them according to 
tlieir degrees. 

" The only change in his Majesty's procession on the return 
was that the Heralds supplied the rooms of the provincial Kings, 
who attended the Princess and her Majesty in like manner, the 
Princesses following in the former method. As soon as the^ro- 
cession came back to the door of the lesser drawing-room, the 
company stopped, but their Majesties, Prince of Wales, Duke of 
Cumberland, Bride and Bridegroom, and the Princesses, went in, 
when the Prince of Orange and Princess Royal kneeled and asked 
their Majesties' blessing. At 11 o'clock the Royal Family supped 
in public, in the great state ball-room ; their Majesties were 
placed at the upper end of the table, under a canopy ; on their 
right the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cumberland, and the 
Prince of Orange ; on tlieir left tJie Princess Royal and the 
Princesses Amelia, Caroline, and Mary. The Countess of Hert- 
ford carved. About one the Bride and Bridegroom retired, and 
were afterwards seen by the nobility, &c. sitting up in their bed- 
chamber in rich undresses. 


** All people of quality and persons of distinction that did not 
walk in the procession, had a gallery prepared for them in the 
chapel to see the ceremony." 

On the Prince of Orange's arrival in Nov. 1733, the prisoners 
on the Master's side of the King's Bench, made great rejoicings by 
illuminations, &c., and particularly by a large paper machine, in 
which was enclosed several candles. The machine was transparent, 
and upon the sides were written the four folio wng lines : — 

"Great is our joy, let echoing cannons roar, 
Nassau is landed on the British shore. 
William brought peace, and liberty restor'd, 
We hope like blessings Nassau will aflford." 

Jonathan Pinchbeck, the fan-maker, also advertised " The original, 
loyal, Nassau Fan ; or Love and Beauty triumphant." 

Mrs. Ann Qranville to her sister Mrs. Pendarves. 

Gloster, 20 March, 1734. 

So mucli magnificence and order must be a noble 
sight ; well, positively when we marry another daughter 
I will contrive to be in town. Thanks to my dearest 
sister for her fine description ; your words render every- 
thing, however fine and agreeable in itself, doubly so to 
me. I have not read your letter yet to above a dozen 
people, but it will be made known to the whole town ; 
the author of the Journal would give me a good price 
for it ! The dress of the Princess and her train-bearers 
must be extremely becoming, it put me very much in 
mind of De Scudery's descriptions. Methinks I am 
sorry Princess Eoyal is going away ; I have always 
heard her commended, yet her perfections have been 
more talked of siuce the match was on foot than before. 
I am glad the Prince of Orange has so much under- 


standing, I wish to have ingenious people come together 
be it in high or low life : there cannot be greater 
unhappiness to a person of sense, than to be forced to 
live with those of a small capacity I There are many 
places more polite than our city, but I assure you none 
more loyal. There was such general rejoicing that it 
really gave one spirits, and great illuminations at night. 
My mother made all her windows very bright, as was the 
whole square, only one house, and they suffered for it. 
I hope next winter there will be a proper match offered 
for Princess Amelia, it makes so much gaiety. I am 
very glad you were not the worse for raking ; you are so 
accustomed to hear of great people and things that I 
don't know what subject to talk to you of, and to relate 
our petite occurrences at this time would be drawing you 
out of your bright sunshine into dark shade. Was Phill 
well enough to see the splendid nuptials ? I hope Bunny 
is by this time safely arrived ; I am six Hues in his debt, 
but shall desire you to make my compliments to him, 
because I suppose he will have business enough upon his 
hands upon his first coming to town ; pray ask him 
about a heroine in his regiment, who served as a common 
soldier for some years, but at last was brought to bed 
of a son, who must needs be a great warrior ! 

I have got Doctor Swift placed in as curious a frame 
as this unhandy place will produce, and designed to 
have carried it this morning, but it rains prodigiously. 
In the afternoon we go to Mrs. M., and have much 
business upon our hands while we stay here. I shall 
have one advantage when we go to our maison champetre, 
of being freed from many disagreeable people ; is it not 
a little like Macbeth' s being glad to be hanged to leave 


both his wives, for I am told we are to have no neighbour 
nearer than two miles, except Mrs. Bridgeman, and she 
is so so, though I really shall not be sorry, for I had rather 
have too little than too much company at any time. 

The Hibernian artist, Mr. Murphy, was very unlucky, 
for the rejoicings for the wedding prevented his concert, 
but 'tis no matter, for he is the most impertinent fellow 
that ever was ; is there any music in his harp or no ? 
Oh the Serenata ! could I have heard it, or the Anthem 
Mr. Handel composed for the Princess ! 'tis a horrid 
thing to be removed from all harmony. Sure my Lord 
Crawford's dress was foppish and unbecoming ? I hope 
you received my last letter with the garden-seeds for 
Lady Sun. I have not yet been able to get sweet sultane 
but I shall soon ; has she any of the fennel-flowers ? 
I can send some from Hatherly. Miss Sutton's basket 
has been done this fortnight and is a great beauty, but 
too small to be sent by the coach. 

'Tis fit some folks should meet with a little mortifica- 
tion, if Dragons^ were not sometimes subdued they would 
overcome and distress the whole world ! Who are the 
Princess of Orange's maids of honour besides Mrs. Sutton ? 
I know who I wish was one, and yet her heart would go 
pit-a-pat at this time to step out into the wide world by 
herself; and all things considered, I believe she is per- 
fectly satisfied things are as they are. Periander desired 
he might drink tea with us on Sunday in the afternoon. 

Yesterday we dined at the Vineys ; children roaring, 
he scolding, — sweet entertainment for company ! Mrs. 
Butler is really better, but she will not believe it. Oh ! 
preserve us heaven from melancholy and its train of 

* '* Dragon." Countess Granville was known by the name of *' the Dragon.^ 


miseries ! which would deprive us of all joy and comfort, 
and would be a great alloy to the infinite delights my 
dearest Penny gives her ever faithfull and affectionate, 

A. a 

My mother's blessing and many services attends you. 
My compliments to all friends and acquaintance ; my 
duty in particular to Sir John. Mama sent by the carrier 
a ham last Monday. 

In the Daily Journal of 11th March, 1734, is the following 
paragraph : — 

*' We hear amongst other public diversions that are prepared 
for the solemnity of the approaching nuptials, there is to be per- 
formed at the Opera House, in the Haymarket, on Wednesday 
next, a Serenata, called Pamasso in Festa. The fable is 
Apollo and the Muses, celebrating the marriage of Thetis and 
Peleus. There is one standing scene, which is Mount Parnassus, 
on which sit Apollo and the Muses, assisted with other proper 
characters emblematically dressed, the whole appearance being 
extremely magnificent. The music is no less entertaining, being 
contrived with so great a variety, that all sorts of music are 
properly introduced in single songs, duettoes, &c., intermixed 
with choruses, somewhat in the style of oratorios. People have 
been waiting with impatience for this piece, the celebrated Mr. 
Handel having exerted his utmost skill in it." 

Mr». Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

L. B. St.,1 28th March, 1734. 

I told you, in my last letter, that I would not write 
to you last post. I had ^'much add" (a genteel expression 

* "i. B. St." was Lower Brook Street, where Mrs. Pendarves had a house 
after her return from Ireland, 


that) to keep my promise, having received two very rich 
letters of my dearest Anna's that deserved an immediate 
answer ; but what do you think prevented me ? nothing 
less than Bunny's arrival. He was at my tea-table on 
Tuesday morning by ten o' the clock ; no other man upon 
the face of the earth would have kept me from you, but 
as this is a spark of equal consequence to us, I know you 
wiU not blame me ! Our good and worthy brother, 
thank Grod, is in good health and good looks, he is 
grown a little fatter, and it becomes him very weU. We 
talked of you and mama you may conclude. 

I dined with him at Sir John Stanley's, whose spirits 
were so raised by the return of his companion that he 
would treat him with the opera that he might hear 
Caristini sing : I went with Lady Chesterfield in her box. 
She asked me if you were in town with me, and I, alas ! 
answered no. 'Twas Arbaces, an opera of Vinci's, pretty 
enough, but not to compare to Handel's compositions. 
The next piece of good news I have to tell you is that 
my affairs with Mrs. Basset wiU at last be happily con- 
cluded ; happily, I may say, for it is well to get rid of 
trouble at any rate. I am to receive an hundred 
pounds for changing my security, and an hundred 
and ten pounds costs, and then I may say I am rich, 
but still it will cost me pains and management to 
keep myself clear, and that's an employment no way 
to my gout; L.L.^ has used me ill in this affair, and if 
Mr. Stanley had not been very much in my interest, 
and a clever man in his business, I might have been 

Last Monday Lady Carteret, with her daughters 

> L. L. — Lady Lansdowne. 


Dysart and Weymouth, were going into the city to see 
their uncle Carteret/ who lives at the Post Office, at Paul's 
Churchyard. The coach overturned most violently ; never 
were three women more frightened or with more reason. 
No harm has come of it, but considering the condi- 
tion of the ladies, it was a most hazardous accident. I 
was at Lady Wemouth's when she came home, she went 
to bed immediately, and I supped by her bedside. I 
really was extremely alarm'd for her, and she has such 
pretty good-humoured ways 'tis impossible not to love 
her : she says a thousand obliging things of you. Just at 
that time I received your letters, and she begged so hard 
that I was forced to show her one of them, wliich I did 
not repent doing, for she understood the value of it, and it 
diverted her, and kept her from thinking of the accident 
which had just befallen her. 

I have wrote to Mr. Stanley to take out a lottery 
ticket ; he chose the other. You must understand that 
the Penny Post is my running foot-man ; George's ' foot 
mends a little, but very slowly ; Mr. Talbot says it 
will be six months before she can have the use of it. 
I knew Miss Tracy was with somebody, but where 
tlmt somebody lives is what I want 'to know, and she 
must live unvisited by me till I know where to find her. 

1 " Their uncle Carteret." Edward Carteret, Esq., third son of Sir George 
Carteret, Bart., and brother to George Lord Carteret, the husband of Lady- 
Grace Granville, (" the old Countess") was baptized at Hawnes, November 
26, 1671. He represented Huntingdon in parliament, in King William's reign, 
and Bedford in the reign of Queen Anne. In George I.'s reign he was member 
for Bere-alston, and on the 4th of April, 1721, he was appointed joint post- 
master-general with Galfridus Walpole, Esq. He held that office until his 
death, April 15, 1739. He married Bridget, daughter of Sir Thomas Eaton, 
and had three sons and three daughters ; one of the latter was a Maid of 
Honour to Queen Anne. 

2 " George," her waiting-woman. 


Tou think London no bigger than Grloster, and that 
everybody is as well known here as your mayor and 
alderman ! You are enough to put folks into a passion ! 
You say our separation is worse this time than ever ; I 
find it so, but can account for it no way but one, which 
is, the increase of our affection. 

I hope Mr. Newton liked Swift's picture. If a better 
could have been had he should have had it ; never omit 
my compliments to him. Why won't you tell me what 
worsteds you want ? you are very provoking. I was to 
tell you something about the garden-seeds from Lady S., 
and I have almost forgot what, but I think it was that 
the capscicum and double striped balsamine must be 
raised in a hot bed. 

The Princess of Orange's maids of honour, besides 
Sut,^ are Miss Schutz,'^ (daughter of Miss Maddens 
that was) ; Miss Herbert ugly, coniTnonly called pretty^ 
that might have been married and would not; Miss 
Howe, of Somerset House, sister to the maid of honour 
that ran mad for Mr. Lowther,^ a black frightful witch. 

» " 5m«." Miss Sutton. 

' Several of the Sclnitz family belonged to the household of King George IT. 
Augustus Schutz, Esq., 'probably the father of this Maid of Honour, was 
'* Master of the Robes " to his Majesty. 

In the Historical Register the list stands thus : — 

" The Lady of Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and the Lady of Lord Southwell, 
of Ireland, appointed Ladies of the Bedchamber. 
Miss Schutz, j 

Miss How, ' Maids of Honour, with a salary of 

Miss Herbert, and j 2001. per annum each. 
Miss Sutton. J 
! Miss Dives, 1 

Miss Charles, and \ Dressers, with a salary of 1001. each." 
Miss Scot, ) 

3 Mr. Croker in his Biographical Notice of Lord Hervey, prefixed to his 
Memoirs of tJie Reign of George II., states that liOrd Hervey 's Epistle of 


Her dressers are likewise four in number — Mrs. Charles, 
Mrs. Dives, Miss Scot, I can't remember who the fourth 
is. Her ladies, Lady Southwell, Vice Chamberlain Cook's 
daughter, as disagreeable and affected as ever you saw 
any creature, and a Lady Herbert, who they say is a 
good sort of a woman : indeed, my dear, without any 
comphment, you would have been the flower of the 
flock had you made one among them. I am sorry he, 
(V.) has found the knack of scolding again, I was in 
hopes he had left it off, for he had a longer fit of good 
humour whilst I was at Gloster, than I thought him 
capable of. 

Sir John Stanley desires his most humble service to 
mama and you, and a thousand thanks for your kind 
present of a ham. I have devoured your woodcocks ; 
they were incomparable. To-morrow I shall stay at 
home all day in the afternoon : I am to have a belle 
assemblee ; Lady Wey, Lady Dysart, Miss Lewson, and 
Miss Jacksons ; you shall be let in if you'll come. 

I dine to-day wdth Sir John and Bunny, in the after- 
noon sit with Lady W. Yesterday I dined at Mrs. 
Percival's, and in the afternoon Phil and I went to the 
oratorio at Lincoln's Inn, composed by Porpora,^ an 

Monimia to Philocles, was designed to represent the case of " the giddy and 
unfortunate Sophia Howe, Maid of Honour to the Princess," and Mr. Anthony 
Lowther. For which opinion he quotes Horace Walpole. 

^ Niccolo Porpora, born at Naples, 1689. He began his career at Vienna, 
where he brought out his first ojjera, Ariana and Teseo, in 1717, a work which 
laid the foundation of a European reputation. In 1733 he came to England at 
the invitation of a party of nobility and gentry, who had established an ojx^ra 
in opi^iosition to Handel, but, notwithstanding his reputation and acknow- 
ledged ability, and the aid he received from Farinelli's exquisite singing, he 
was unable to comjjete with his gigantic adversary, and after several years of 
unequal contest he returned to the continent. He died in jwverty at Naples, 
in 1767. — IIogarth''s Musicul History, 

VOL. T. 2 G 


Italian, famous for church music, who is now in 
England : it is a fine solemn piece of music, but I 
confess I think the subject too solemn for a theatre. To 
have words of piety made use of only to introduce good 
music, is reversing what it ought to be, and most of the 
people that hear the oratorio make no reflection on the 
meaning of the words, though God is addressed in the 
most solemn manner; some of the choruses and recitative 
are extremely fine and touching, but they say it is not 
equal to Mr. Handel's oratorio of Esther or Deborah. 

I had a letter, last post, from Bushe ; she is far gone, 
poor girl, in the spleen. I work hard now at my tent- 
stitch, I have done two roses that are not despicable 
things, a bunch of blue bells and many green leaves. 
I will send you the Memoirs of a French gentleman' 
that will amuse you, if you will tell me how to send 
them. They are melancholy ; you never met with so 
many tragical passages in any romance. The French is 
easy and the story new. 

They wear their stays extravagantly low, their sleeves 
very short and wide, petticoats short, English domieu-^es, 
and the girdle not in the least peaked down ; you have 
not had so much of fashions from me since my being in 
town, and may not have so much again till next year, so 
make much of this. 

I have lately read some of South's sermons, I can't 
say they delight me : they deserve an epithet ver}^ 

» The Daily Courant for January 5, 1733, advertises, " Female Falshood, or 
The Life and Adventures of a late French Nobleman." Written by himself 
after his retirement, and digested by M, de St. Evremond. The third edition, 
in two pocket volumes. N.B, This is the book recommended by Sir Richard 
Steele in the Guardian, No. 150, and from which the adventure inserte<l in 
that paper is transcribed." 


unsuitable to that sort of writing, which is that tliey are 
diverting. It is below the dignity of religion to have it 
treated in that witty way ; the plain easy way of Dr. 
Young gives me infinitely more satisfaction. But I will 
read more of Dr. South, and perhaps I may be reconciled 
to him. Adieu. My best respects to dear mama. I 
am yours most tenderly, with the utmost constancy, 

M. P. 

Dr. Robert South was bom at Hackney, in 1633. He studied 
at Westminster school, and afterwards in Christchurch College, 
Oxford. In 1654 he wrote a copy of Latin verses, to congratulate 
Cromwell upon the peace concluded with the Dutch ; and the 
next year a Latin poem, intitled Mmica Tncantans. In 1660 he 
was elected public orator of the university, and in 1661 became 
domestic chaplain to Edward Earl of Clarendon, Lord High Chan- 
cellor of England ; after whose retirement into France, in 1667, 
he became chaplain to the Duke of York ; and in 1676, 
attended as chaplain to Laurence Hyde, Esq., Ambassador Extra- 
ordinary to the King of Poland. After the Revolution he 
took the oath of allegiance to King William and Queen Mary, 
though he excused himself from accepting a great dignity in the 
Church, vacated by the personal refusal of that oath. Dr. South 
died in 1716, and was interred in Westminster Abbey. He 
was remarkable for his wit, which abounds in all his writings, and 
particularly in his sermons ; but at the same time they equally 
abound in ill-humour, spleen, and satire. He was remarkable for 
being a time-server. During the life of Cromwell he was a staunch 
Presbyterian, and then railed against the Independents ; at the 
Restoration he exerted his pulpit eloquence against the Presby- 
terians ; and in the reign of Queen Anne, was a warm advocate for 

2 G 2 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

L. B. Str., 2nd April, 1734. 
4th April. 

These two lines were wrote last post with a design of 
continuing to the end of the folio sheet, when in came 
Phil so low and dispirited, that she was hardly alive ; she 
begged I would take the air with her. My brother was 
here, and promised he would write to you, and so I gave 
you up to do a charitable action ; it was so late when I 
came home that I had not time, and in the afternoon 
w^ent with Lady Bich to the oratorio, Deborah by name, 
which I love (besides its own merit which is a great 
deal) for "sister Deborah's " sake. First I must tell you of 
a piece of unluckiness of yours which has disappointed 
and mortified me more than it will you I am sure. Lady 
Weymouth very prettily gave me a ticket in the lottery 
for you, and charged me not to let you know anything 
of it till it was drawn, which alas ! it is — a blank ; it was 
well designed, and I am sorry it met with such indifferent 
success. The number I sent you was your ticket ; the 
number of that which is taken out for the new quadru- 
ple alliance is 4.2 in 869, and I heartily wish good luck 
may attend it ! 

I am now to thank you for your letter from Cranham^ 
which describes very prettily your villa; I hope the 
fields, trees, and birds all conspire to do the best they 
can to make your solitude agreeable ; your cough not 
gone yet ? that I dont like ; I beg you will drink asses 

^ Cranliam is described in Lewis's TypograjMcal Dictionary, as " a parish 
in the hundred of Rapsgate, county of Gloucester, two and a half miles 
N.E. by E. from Painswick, containing 321 inhabitants ;" and probably Ann 
Granville had removed with her mother to a house at Cranham, for change of 
air in the spring. 


milk and ground ivy tea. Your situation is charming. 
I love to be near the clouds, and a large extent of view 
gives one tlie most exalted subjects for contemplation ; 
the more we see of the beauties of the creation, the more 
we must adore the great Creator. 

I can give you but a bad account of Phil ; I don't 
find that the doctor knows what to make of her ; she 
never is free from pains and stitches all over her, 
but particulcirly her legs, a perpetual stitch on one side, 
and her lungs are extremely tender, yet they do not appre- 
hend her in a consumption ; God knows what it is, but she 
is in an unhappy way, for her spirits are so extremely 
affected by these disorders, that she has no joy in any- 
thing. I design to go out of town with her for a week 
or two and see what country air will do. We propose 
going to Beaconsfield where Mrs. Bellenden is, and in the 
meantime if Sir John Stanley will let her be a day or 
two at Northend, I hope that may be of some service 
to her, for indeed she is in a melancholy way. 

I have not been yet able to get at poor Lumley, who 
they say is very ill, but to-day or to-morrow I will try 
and compass it. — Oh to-morrow I can't, for the cousin 
Isaacsons are to dine with me at last. Thanks for the 
sweet pasteels. I had your hasty dab, (as you call it), 
from Gloster, your ^^dabs" are of more worth to me than 
folios of letters any one else. 

I repent my having undertaken Buckland,' for I fear 
it wiU cost me a good deal of trouble, and hurt my friends 
that I have engaged in it. Lord Weymouth is so easily 
worked upon by those that have his ear, that if I do not 

^ " Biiddand" It appears tliat Mrs. Pendarves ^vished to obtain a lease of 
Buckland for the Chapons. 


bring him to let a lease of it, I shall be in continual appre- 
hensions that somebody will persuade him to take it into 
his own hands again, and that will distress the Chapons 
extremely, and vex me heartily. Don't mention my 
fears to them, for I will do all that lies in my power to 
serve them, let it cost me ever so much pains. You say 
nothing of a letter I enclosed to you for Mrs. Arnold ? 

Yesterday Lady Dysart, Lady Weymouth, Lady Cath. 
Hanmer,^ and your humble servant, met at Mrs. Donel- 
lan's, where we sang and played, and squabbled about 
music most extravagantly ; I wish you had been there to 
have made up the chorus. Next week I shall have a very 
pretty party. Oh that you were to be here ! The Percivals, 
Sir John Stanley, Bunny, Lady Eich and her daughter, 
Mr. Hanmer, Lady Catherine, Mr. Handel, and Strada, 
and if my Lady S. will lend me her harpsichord, she 
shall be of the party. George mends very slowly, her 
surgeon gives no hopes of her being able to make use of 
her foot for some months : it has made me very uncom- 
fortable, but next winter I hope will make amends for 
the dulness of this. Tell me how I may send two or 
three books to you ; they are not worth paying for the 
carriage. Bunny is just come in from riding, and desires 
his compliments as due. Young Jackson, our favourite, 
has just made me a visit en cavalier at my window, saw 
me with pen in hand, and desired his particular compli- 
ments to my agreeable sister. 

M. P. 

' ITie Lady Catherine Hanmer was the eldest daughter of John Perceval 
Earl of Egmont, and wife of Thomas Hanmer, Esq., of the Fenns, in the 
county of Flint, M. P, for Castle Kising. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Gramnlle. 

L. B. Strt., 12 April, 1734. 

About ten o' the clock Phil and I are to go to Northend, 
and there we shall stay till Tuesday morning. I arose 
this morning with the lark that I might have time to 
write to 3^ou. 

I kept to my own cell all day yesterday. In the 
evening about seven o' the clock, Piggy came and 
made me a visit, enquired kindly after " her niece Nan,*' 
and accused herself of not writing to you. Her spirits 
are as good as ever, and she is very happy in her situa- 
tion at Bird's Place, which she describes to be very 
agreeable, but her way of living there is not suitable to a 
rural life ; for she 7iever is without company, and that is 
tiresome in the country and destroys the design of living 
there ; and by her own account her expences must amount 
to more than her income will prudently allow of. 

Dr. Ellis asked Piggy " whether you and I were of a 
disposition ?" she said oh no, for you loved retirement 
and solitude, took no pleasure in the common diversions 
of the world, and preferred j^our closet at Gloster to all 
other entertainments ; but that I loved gaiety and plea- 
sure, and living in a circle of diversions. Piggy is not 
good at giving characters, for I don't think either of 
those hit you or I. What she said of you, though it 
makes you appear a little dull, is however no scandal ; but 
to give me the name of being a flaunting frisking widow, 
is scandalum magnatum, and I have charged her to eat her 
words when she sees the Druid next, for I would not 
have him think you a p7ude, or me a flirt. 

I have now a long story to tell you about myself, 


which begins in the following manner. Last summer 

when I came from Ireland, I was persecuted at church 

by one Mr. Prideaux, I told you how. On Monday last 

Mrs. Harris (Mrs. RoUe that was) left her name at my 

door, and a message to desire I would drink tea with her 

next day or Wednesday, for she was to go out of town 

soon. I sent her word I would wait on her on Tuesday ; 

accordingly I went at seven o' the clock ; who should be 

there ready to receive me but that same Mr, Prideaux ! 

My mind misgave me plaguely ; I staid there about two 

hours, the man talked sensibly enough, described some 

part of his house, particularly his library, which is a 

very large one, (I suppose what belonged to his father. 

Dr. Prideaux, who wrote the Connection of the Old and 

New Testament), talked of his pictures, his love of 

music, and is a sort of performer (upon tlie fiddle) I 

believe. When my visit was over I made some reflection 

on this meeting, but slept and forgot it again, till another 

message from Mrs. Harris that she " desired to speak 

with me that morning and would wait on me if I would 

give her leave." Then I grew frighted, but resolved to 

see her ; when she came, after making several apologies 

for the errand she came on, she told me she was desired 

by Mr. Prideaux to make known liis circumstances to 

1 me, and to beg leave he might wait on me ? he is a 

widower aged between forty and fifty (as I guess, for she 

did not tell me his age) ; he has four sons that are at 

school and are always to be kept abroad, and one 

daughter about nine year old ; his estate is between two 

and three thousand a year, twenty thousand pounds of 

which is unsettled and to be at my disposal {if I please) ,* 

he lives for a constancy in the country; his character 

OF MRS. DELANY. ' 457 

is that of an honest gentleman and a man of sense. 
Thus have I given you a true state of the case, with 
what advantages it may appear to you I know not, but 
it did not tempt me ! The five children, loithout considering 
any other circumstance, determined me to say " no ;" I am 
afraid mama will think I was too rash, but to tell you the 
truth matrimony is so little my disposition, that I was 
glad to lay hold of a reasonable excuse for not accepting 
the proposal, and I was as glad to find he had jive chil- 
dren as some people would have been at hearing he had 
jive thousand a-yearl I hope my mama will not con- 
demn me ; I confess I applaud myself, and my brother is 
very well satisjied with what I have done, but I hav^ not 
had courage to tell Sir John yet of it. 

After Piggy left me last night, came Lady Carteret 
and Lord and Lady Weymouth. I am quite delighted 
at the thoughts of spending a few days at Northend. 
Oh the nightingales ! have you any at Chatham ? * 
Lady Sun. is much obliged to you for the sweet sultan 
seed ; the Indian pinks are come up very well. Miss 
Sutton is much delighted with her basket, which I 
am indebted to you for. I must tell you of a little 
entertainment of music I had last week; I never 
wished more heartily for you and my mother than 
on that occasion. I had Lady Eich and her daughter. 
Lady Cath. Hanmer and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. 
Percival, Sir John Stanley and my brother, Mrs. Donel- 
Ian, Strada and Mr. Coot. Lord Shaftesbury begged of 
Mr. Percival to bring him, and being 2i profess d friend of 
MDr. Handel (who was here also) was admitted; I never 
was so well entertained at an opera ! Mr. Handel was 

* Chathant is here evidently written in mistake for Crunham. 


in the best humour in the world, and played lessons and 
accompanied Strada and all the ladies that sung from 
seven o' the clock till eleven. I gave them tea and 
coffee, and about half an hour after nine had a salver 
brought in of chocolate, mulled white wine and biscuits. 
Everybody was easy and seemed pleased, Bunny staid 
with me after the company was gone, eat a cold chick 
with me, and we chatted till one o' the clock. 

My humble duty to my dear mama. I hope she likes 
her country seat. 

The family of Prideaux, of Place, near Padstow, in Cornwall, is 
now represented by Mr. Prideaux Brune. Dr. Prideaux, the 
father of the admirer of Mrs. Pendarves, was Dean of Norwich j 
he was born at Padstow, in 1648, and educated at Westminster, 
and Christ's College, Oxford. Besides " The Connection of the 
Old and New Testaments," mentioned in the above letter, he 
wrote the "Life of Mahomet," and other_^ works, and died in 1724. 

The apprehension expressed by Mrs. Pendarves, lest her mother 
should disapprove of her refusal of Mr. Prideaux, and her disin- 
\ clination to tell Sir John Stanley for the same reason, proves the 
extraordinary deference to the opinion of her family, which con- 
tinued after her widowhood, and to an age when she might have 
been supposed to be at liberty to refuse whoever she pleased, even in 
those days of family matrimonial arrangements. It also proves the 
fixed idea in those times, that the rejection of any man of suitable 
) birth, with a good fortune, was an act of insanity. Three thousand 
a year in 1734 was equal to six thousand a year in these days, and 
a settlement of 20,000/. was equal to 40,000/. now. Her brotlier, 
Mr. Granville, never appeared to desire her to accept any of the 
suitors alluded to ; not all the pecuniary advantages held out by 
Lady Stanley, in aid of the intended alliance with Mr. Stanley 
Monck, ever induced Mr. Granville to second their wishes ; but 
his sister had probably less reason to be grateful to his sympathy 
with her feelings, than to his very great family pride. He was 

OF MRS. DELANY. " 459 

fond of his sister, but he probably thought more of her being a 
Granville, than of being her brother, and as far as is known, 
he never favoured any suit, and never considered any body of 
sufficient importance to desire their connection, and his own early 
disappointment in love probably increased this feeling. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

L. B. Strt., 27 April, 1734. 

I am £jlad your rebuke to the postmaster has been of 
use to you ; nothing can be more provoking than to have 
letters kept from one ; I have reason to believe mine 
are so to you, because it is not possible for me to doubt 
of your sincerity. I never desire you, my dearest sister, 
to be methodical in your letters, your wild notes are more 
delightful and more harmonious to me than the most 
studied numbers ; the liveliness of your fancy and the 
warmth of your heart have afforded me treasures. Your 
account of the young married folks gives one a comfortable 
idea of matrimony ; but a forward obstinate wife must 
certainly be a severe curse, and there are too many I 
doubt of that number. I am glad you have such variety 
of studies ; I know you can't be unhappy if you have 
books, and time to read them. Your head and ruffles 
being made up, I think I had as good take the oppor- 
tunity of sending them at the same time I do the books 
to Mr. Webb. Brussels always looks very yellow, but as 
you are in the country it will be better to wear them 
new, than have them first washed. I have not bought 
the lutestring, for if you go no where but to Sally's 
it will be best to spend the money towards a suit in 
the winter, when I hope you will be in a place of more 
company, but do that which you like best, you will find 
me ready to execute your orders. 


I am of your opinion that nothing requires more pene- 
tration than to be able to find out people's characters : too 
candid, or too severe a way of judging, is apt to mislead 
one, though the first occasions less mischief than the latter. 
That talent seems to me as much a genius as music or 
poetry, &c., it may possibly he acquired by much experience 
and observation, but not often. I think one ought to be 
very cautious in declaring one's opinion either to the preju- 
dice or advantage of any one ; for if you commend upon a 
sHght acquaintance, and they afterwards prove unworthy 
of it, one's judgment will certainly be called in question. 
I need not give you any caution against censure ; no one 
is less apt to run into it, but I find upon the whole, that 
a proper silence gives one more the character of wisdom, 
than speaking one's sentiments too openly, though ever 
so well expressed. I am sorry you are the only person 
in the world that has reason to complain of your head : 
it is using you very ill indeed, to delight everybody else 
and pain you. I can't say you suffer alone, for I have 
my share ; I am glad you ride out sometimes — do it as 
often as you can. What does Mr. Kirkham advise you 
to do ? Our tickets ai-e still in the wheel, and I hope I 
shall be able soon to wish you joy of good luck. I shall 
go with Donellan next Wednesday to Beaconsfield, there 
we shall stay a fortnight. 

Your letters are just a week coming to me; what 
makes them so tedious ? I shall quarrel with Cranham 
— I used to have your letters from Gloster the third 
day. I am sure you will find great pleasure in 
simpling ;^ I loved it formerly when I was the mistress of 
fields and meadows. The Essays on Man are owned by 

' *' Simpling" Gathering herbs. 


Mr. Pope/ and nobody now but Mr. Castleman disputes 
their being his : does he think they are too good or too 
had for Pope's ? I like the account of yoar farmer ex- 
tremely : you may find more pleasure from the conversa- 
tion of a man so well endowed by nature than the politest 
company will often give you. Young Mr. Seward, (Sally's 
friend,) came and made me a visit, I like him very well, 
as he is civil and sensible, but a little affected in his ex- 
pressions, which is the University air, and will probably 
wear off with seeing more of the world and of good com- 
pany. Just now George is come down, to make me a visit 
for the first time she has been able above two months ; 
she desires her humble duty to you and mama, and many 
thanks for your goodness in expressing so much concern 
for her. She has had a miserable time of it, and I very 
much fear her constitution will suffer b}" it ; Lady Wey- 
mouth will not let me pay the surgeon,^ which is very 
handsome of her ; pray give me some account of your 
Gloucester election. 

The piece of news talked of is Lady Fanny Pierpoint's 
walking off with Mr. Meadows at last.^ I was at the opera 

1 On the first publication of the Essay oil Man, Pope did not own it, and it 
was' given by the public to Lord Paget, Dr. Young, Dr. Desaguliers, and 
others. Noble relates that Dr. John Theophilus Desaguliers was the son of a 
French Protestant clergj'man, educated at Christ's College, Cambridge, and 
settled in London, though he held the donative of Whitchurch, in Middlesex, 
given to him by the Duke of Chandos. He was the first person who read 
lectures on exjjerimental philosophy in the capital, and the public received him 
with res^xKit. He died at his lodgings at the Bedford Coffee-house, Covent 
Garden, February 29th, 1744, and was buried, !March 26th, at the Savoy. 

2 It appears that Mrs. Pendarves's waiting-woman must have had a severe 
accident, occasioned in some way by persons belonging to the establishment of 
Lord and Lady Weymouth. 

^ Lady Frances, daughter of William Pierrepoint, Earl of Kingston, and 
gi-and-daughter of Evelyn, 1st Duke of Kingston, married in 1734, Philip 


at Lincoln's-Inn last Tuesday, she was there (she was of 
age the day before), and Mr. Meadows sat at some dis- 
tance from her in the box before me : at the end of the 
first act she went out under pretence of being sick. A 
young lady, (Miss Wortley,') daughter to Lady Mary, 
went out with her, and returned in a quarter of an hour. 
Mr, Meadows staid some time, and then marched off. 
Most people guessed what they were about but dull I, who 
minded the music, made no reflection on what past, but 
next day it was published. I own I think she was in the 
right to marry him, if she could not live without a 
husband, for nobody else would have cared for her not- 
withstanding her twenty thousand pounds. I have been 
often interrupted since I began this letter by the pretty 
tricks of two delightful kittens which inherit their mother's 
wit but not her beauty ; pray have you no cats"nor birds ? 
I hope your little ones at Gloster were all well when you 
heard from them ? Last Tuesday I went to hear Cuzzoni 
sing : she sings as well as ever, but nothing now pleases 
me so well as Caristini.'^ Wednesday I was at the play 

Medows, Esq., deputy ranger of Richmond Park, third son of Sir Phili]) 
Medows, Knight Marshal of the King's palace. Charles Medows their eldest 
son, succeeded to the estates of his uncle, the 2nd Duke of Kingston, assumod 
the name and arms of Pierrepoint, and was created Baron Pierrepoint and 
Viscoimt Newark, and on the 1st of A\m\, 1806, was advanced to the dignity 
of Earl Manvers. 

1 Afterwards the Countess of Bute, wife of John, 3rd Earl of Bute, minister 
to George 11. and George III. ; she was mother to John, 1st Marquess of Bute ; 
and James, who assumed the surname of Wortley, and was father to James, 1st 
Baron Whamcliffe, Frederick, who died May, 1802, Sir Charles, who was 
father to Lord Stuart de Rothesay, William Archbishop of Armagh, Mary 
Countess of Lonsdale, Jane Countess Macartny, Anne Duchess of Northum- 
berland, Lady Augusta Corbet, Caroline Countess of Portarlington, and Lady 
Louisa Stuart, who only died in 1851, aged 94. 

* Carestini, (Giovanni,) a celebrated Italian singer. His first appearance on 
the stage seems to have been at Rome, in 1721, in the female character of 

OF MRS. DEL A NY. 403 

with Lady Weymouth, not much entertained — "The 
Mistakes," a silly play of Sir John Vanburgh's. Thursday 
at Lincoln's-Inn opera again. Yesterday morning at the 
rehearsal of a most delightful opera at Mr. Handel's called 
Sosarme,^ which is acted to-night, and I doubt as I am 
to go out of town next week, I shall not be able to resist 
the temptation of it. All the diversions I have had this 
week have cost me nothing but thanks. Adieu my dearest 

I am yours for ever, 
M. P. 
My humble duty to dear mama. I beg she w illnot 
work too hard, but walk sometimes when the weather is 

The following account of the Mr. Seward mentioned in this 
letter may be interesting to the reader. The Eev. Thomas 
Seward, Canon Residentiary of Lichfield, editor of " Beaumont 
and Fletcher," was father of Miss Seward, the poetess. Of this 
person Horace Walpole gives the following anecdotes in 1758 and 
1783 :— 

"You cannot imagine how astonished a Mr. Seward, a learned 
clergyman, was, who came to Ragley while I was there. Strolling 
about the house, he saw me first sitting on the pavement of the 
lumber-room with Louis, all over cobweb?, dirt and mortar,* then 
found me in his own room on a ladder, writing on a picture : 

Costanza, in Buononcini's opera of Griselda. Subsequent to 1730, he was 
engaged by Handel to supply the place of Senesino, who, together with his 
whole troop, except Stradn, had deserted from his service, and enlisted under 
the banners of Porpora and the nobility at Lincoln's-Inn-fields. Handel, how- 
ever is said not to have treated him well. He continued in the highest reputa- 
tion for twenty years after quitting England, and sang at Berlin in 1750, 1754, 
and 1755, and at Petersburgh till the year 1758, when he returned to Italy, 
and soon after died. 

' The opera of Sosarme, by Handel, was produced on the 15th of Februar\', 
1732, and revived on the 27th April, 1734. The air in Sosarme, " Rendi 
sereno al ciglio," is known only as " Lord, remember David." 


and half an hour afterwards lying on the grass in the court, with 
the dogs and the children, in my slippers and without my hat. 
He had some doubt whether I was the painter or the factotum of 
the family ! but you would have died at his surprise when he saw 
me walk into dinner dressed, and sit by Lady Hertford.- Lord 
Ijyttelton was there, and the conversation turned on literature : 
finding me not quite ignorant added to the parson's wonder ; but 
he could not contain himself any longer, when after dinner he saw 
me go to romps and jumping with the two boys ; he broke out to 
my Lady Hertford, and begged to know who and what sort of 
man I really was, for he had never met with anything of the kind." 
At another period he says, " I remember Mr. Seward (father of the 
present muse of Lichfield), who was travelling governor to Lord 
Charles Fitzroy, who, falling dangerously ill at Genoa, and being 
saved, (as Mentor thought), by Dr. Shadwell, the governor whipped 
up to his chamber, and began a complimentary ode to the physician, 
but was called down before it was finished on his pupil's relapse, 
who DID die. However, the bard was too much pleased with the 
debut of his poem to throw it away, and so finished it, though 
his gratitude had been still-bom." 

The " affiectation " of Mr. Seward, mentioned by Mrs. Peudarves, 
and the conceit illustrated by Horace Walpole, seem to have been 
inherited in some degree by his daughter with his amiable qualities, 
and his love of literature. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

L. B. Str., 30 April, (1734.) 

'Tis strange, but not more strange than true, that I 
have left your letter for the last of four, by which means 
I have lost so much time that I wish I may be able 
to scratch a dozen lines to you. I have wrote to 
Mrs. Bellenden to put off our Beaconsfield journey, 
for Dr. Hollins has ordered Donellan to go imme- 
diately to Islington waters ; I have wrote to Sister 


Deborah, and I have wrote to Madame Foley. Your 
head, contrary to your orders, I have sent by Mr. Webb, 
and the French books. I fancy the first story will move 
you — it did me, extremely; 'tis easy French, and the 
stories are not tedious, especially the two first volumes ; 
but nothing ever was so pretty as your " Vision :" I may 
thumb over my musty papers long enough before I can 
give you as good a one. 

Your letter, dated 9 th of A prill, came to me yesterday, 
I suppose you meant the new stile. 1 am glad my mama 
approves of my proceedings. Should fortune smile again 
I will pursue her ; 'tis seldom she gives encouragement, 
and when she does, she ought not to be neglected. Much 
joy your letters always give me, but your last revived 
me extremely, there is a sprightliness in it that tells 
me confidently that you and mama are well. Bunny 
has just been with me, and he says that my mother brags 
much of her spirits ; pray God continue her that blessing ! 
All your pretty birds and pretty things describe delight- 
fully, and your sensible farmer is no bad part of your 

Can't you persuade Mr. Donne to build a room for us 
next year? I have not spent a summer in the country 
with you since we were at Ealing, and don't you 
remember how sweet that was ? I am sure you do ! The 
churchyard and the fields, even the dusty lanes, all were 
charmino-. You and the summer and the country together 
are a complication of the greatest blessing this world 
affords me. Ben Bathurst ^ was neither /ranX- nor free, but I 

1 Benjamin Bathurst, of Lidney, in Gloucestershire, M.P. for Gloucester- 
shire in 1734, youngest son of Sir Beuj. Bathurst, by Frances, daughter of Sir 

VOL. I. 2 H 


beseech you not to spare my pocket : if you do, I will be 
even with you, and not write above once a fortnight. I 
have taken care of your letter to Mrs. Spencer. Lady 
Carteret, Lady Weymouth, and Miss Carteret were with 
me all the afternoon yesterday, and Donellan and Barber 
supped with me. Lord Weymouth will not let me pay 
the surgeon, and Lady Weymouth has given me her 
picture, and very like her, it is to cost twenty guineas 
without the frame. Sir John Stanley and my brother go 
to Tunbridge ; my going is uncertain, for if Phil does not 
go I shall not. I shall like it very well, and as my 
staying in town this summer is principally on Sir John 
Stanley's account, I shall be glad to be with him there. 

I go to-night to the opera with Lady Rich and Mrs. 
Donellan, to Sosarmes, an opera of Mr. Handel's, a 
charming one, and yet I dare say it will be almost 
empty ! 'Tis vexatious to have such music neglected. 

If there should be a war I don't hear what troops will 
be ordered abroad. I will not consent to your having 
T. C, so don't set your heart upon him, I beg. Lady 
Sun's house is restored to its usual tranquillity ; the 
dragons are sent to foam and roar in foreign climes, and 
we have met after the manner of primitive days, and no 
disturbers among us. Molly Bramston desires me to 
make her compliments to you. Sir William Wyndham ^ 

Allen Apsley. By his first wife Finetta, daughter and co-heir of Henry Poole, 
Esq., of Kemble, Benjamin Bathurst had twenty-txvo children, of whom one 
daughter alone had issue, viz., Anne, wife of Charles Bragg, Esq., whose son 
took the name of Bathurst ; and by his second wife, Catherine, daughter of 
Lawrence Brodrick, D.D., he had fourteen children, of whom the third was the 
Right Revd. Henry Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich, who died April 5, 1837. 

* Sir William Wyndham was son of Sir Edward "Wyndham, and Catherine, 
sister to John Lord Gower, and was consequently nearly connected with Mary 
Granville. Sir William filled in the reign of Queen Anne, the offices of 


is in great affliction for the loss of his eldest daughter, a 
fine young woman about eighteen. He has another 
daughter, that I pity from my heart, about fifteen ; she 
used to say that when her sister married she should be 
miserable to lose so mach of her company, and now, 
poor thing ! she has lost her for ever in this world. I 
dare not enlarge my letter; I am not drest, and 
'tis two o' the clock. I have promised to dine with 
Sir John. Yesterday I dined at home, all alone, upon 
mutton-chops and toasted cheese 1 Oh, how I wished for 
you ! but when do I not ? but if I don't upon better 
occasions you have no reason to thank me. I hate to 
leave you, but must, so farewell for a few days. 

I am yours for ever, 

M. P. 

My humble duty to dear mama ; Badge will have me 
crowd in hers, though I have no room. 

Master of the Buckhounds, Secretary-at-War, and Chancellor of the Exchequer, 
and was sworn of Her Majesty's Privy (Douncil. Sir William was twice mar- 
ried ; first (July 21, 1708,) to Catherine, second daughter of Charles Duke of 
Somerset, by whom he had two sons and two daughters. 1. Charles, his suc- 
cessor, who upon the death of his uncle, Algernon Duke of Somerset, 
February 7, 1750, succeeded to the earldom of Egremont. 2. Percy, who in- 
herited the estates of his uncle, Henry Earl of Thomond, and was created Earl 
of Thomond, in Ireland. 3. Catherine, who died unmarried in April, 1734. 
4. Elizabeth, married, in 1749, the Honourable George Grenville. Sir William 
married, secondly, Maria Catherina, widow of the Marquis of Blandford, but 
had no issue by her. Sir William died June 17, 1740. 

2 H 2 


From the Countess Oranville. 

Hawnes, May 2nd, 1734. 

Dear Cousin, 

Though Mr. and Mrs. Spencer^ are now with me, 
and I have a great deal of tattle to amuse me, yet I 
can't forget acknowledging the favour of your letter. 
You have been the only comfort I have had in my soli- 
tude. I have constantly read your letters over every day, 
and found new pleasure in them ; your stile is so agree- 
able and your hand so fine that they seem increased. 
Whatever you do is always done in perfection, and I am 
very glad Lady Dysart and Lady Weymouth shew such 
good taste in the midst of their joys as to distinguish 
you. The account I have of my daughter^ ^i?;g5 me not any, 
I am so afraid for her, either going on, or losing her child ; 
Lord Weymouth told me with joy about Lady Carteret. 
It really is an extraordinary thing for a mother and 
three daughters to be in the same condition, but I own 
I am much grieved about it, and can't wish to see her 
as soon as I was in hopes I should. I hope you'll not 
go out of town while she stays, for your ocmpany is a 
great entertainment to her ; and I really hope Lord 
Weymouth will be so good as to let his wife stay 
on purpose to wait on her, since his house is so airy 
and good, that though the weather should grow hot, yet 
Grosvenor Square will remain pleasant. Mrs. Spencer 
says Lady Weymouth unfortunately broke a tooth, 
which often gives her great disturbance. Whatever un- 
easiness she has makes me very unhappy, but this satis- 

* Mrs. Spencer Georgiana Carteret, daughter of Lord Carteret, afterwards 
Earl Granville, and granddaughter to Countess Granville ; who afterwards 
married Earl Cowper. 

* " My daughter.^'' Lady Carteret, Lady Granville's daughter-in-law. 


faction I have, that her dear lord will never give her 
any! I was vastly pleased with his kind visit, and to 
see him more improved than anybody ever was in 
the time, for nothing shews so much good sense in a 
young man as improving himself/ 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granvttte. 

L. B. Street, May 28th, 1734. 

I am fully disposed to fill this sheet, every inch 
of it; I will not so much as leave a margin, for I 
have not had this many a day the comfort of talking 
to you without interruption. It is now just eight of 
the clock ; I have drank my two dishes of tea, and my 
charge is gone to Islington Wells, my man to market, 
my maids at breakfast ; and nothing moves about me 
but my two cats and a little hopping canary bird, that 
hangs up in my dressing-room, where I hope to indulge 
an hour in thinking of my best of sisters. 

Phil I think has found great benefit from Islington 
waters, though she has every now and then a pull back 
that a little disheartens her, which must be expected 
whilst the weather is so uncertain ; she thinks herself 
much obliged to my dear Anna for her good-nature. 
You were one of the first persons she said that she was 
sure would feel a great deal for their distressful circum- 
stances. She has received the kindest letter from her 

^ The acconnt of Lord Wejmouth corroborates Mrs. Pendarves's opinion, 
that he and Lady Weymouth were admirably well suited to each other, and 
that while she lived his conduct was imexceptionable. 


Brother Kit on this occasion, with a bill of £30, which con- 
sidering he has not a very affluent fortune, was generous 
and kind, and to Mrs. Shuttle worth he has sent five 
pound. I know your disposition will make you delight 
in an instance of generosity, and I could not forbear telling 
this of one I value so much as I do Mr. Donellan, who 
has certainly as good principles and as genteel a spirit as 
ever any man had : Bunny is very like him, in having a 
plain, honest, generous heart, without disguise or osten- 

As to what you say of its being a duty incumbent on 
us to fix in the country we were horn in, I can't see any 
reason for that ; there is hardly a family throughout the 
Scripture, or a remarkable person, that lived continually 
in the place they were bom in : if another country is 
more convenient to my circumstances or constitution, 
my reason directs me to that place, be it where it will. 
What think you then of the Bermuda scheme ? The per- 
sons that were disposed to promote that, were of great 
consequence in the place where they were bom, and did a 
great deal of good both by their charity to the poor, and 
by their example to the rich ; yet they thought they might 
do acts of a higher nature, and more evidently glorify Grod, 
by raising and instructing a set of poor ignorant creatures 
that were buried in darkness. Surely it was a glorious 
design, and well worth the sacrifice they would have made 
of friends and country ; but I give into your notion so far 
as to think that, if there is not some very apparent reason 
to justify quitting one's country, that the people among 
whom we are born have more right to the little we can 
bestow than strangers. According to your opinion, if 
the Prince of Orange had courted you, instead of Princess 


Eoyal a country qualm would have hindered you from 
accepting of his Highness. 

I don't take up this side of the argument by way 
of preparing you for my fixing on any other ground 
than that of England, for I certainly never shaU ; but 
I Hke travelling about so well, that I wish my circum- 
stances would let me see every part of Europe, and 
then I would try how well it would agree with you 
too ! I am of your mind, that fortune does not design that 
we should be rich : but we have no reason to reproach her 
for that. I am convinced we are in a happier way, if we 
don't neglect the advantages of having fewer attach- 
ments to the world. Is it not a comfortable reflection, 
my dearest Anna, that what we esteem our greatest 
happiness here (the friendship we have for one another, 
and some more who are worthy of our love) will con- 
stitute part of our happiness •hereafter ? Whereas gold 
and jewels, palaces and equipages, and the whole train of 
wealthy pleasures that are here so much desired and 
laboured for, must be left behind us ; and if we form no 
higher joys w\iB.t wretched moments must our last prove ? 
But I would rather be capable of the reflections you make 
in your solitude, than mistress of all Lady Betty Jermyn's^ 

* Lady Elizabeth Berkeley, daughter of Charles, 2nd Earl of Berkeley; 
married the notorious adventurer and gambler, Sir John Germain, who 
had previously married the divorced Duchess of Korfolk (Lady Mary 
Mordaunt) by whose will he became possessed of the estate of Drayton, in 
Northamptonshire, which he left on his owti death to Lady Betty, his second 
wife ; Lady Betty left it to Lord George Sackville, third son of Lionel, 1st 
Duke of Dorset. Lady Betty was a friend and corresix)ndent of Smft ; she 
survived her husband fifty-one years. An allusion to the large fortune of 
Lady Betty Germaine, is to be found in a letter of the Duchess of Marl- 
borough, in Walpole's Reminiscences ; and the following account of some of 
her bequests appears in the Annual Reghter, for 1769. — " Dec. 16th, 1769. 
Lady Betty Germain by her will has left to Lady Vere 20,000?., to Lord 


jewels, though she has as many as would dress out a 
Sultana of the Indies ! Pharamond is very easy French, 
but I think Cleopatra prettier ; and I believe I can bor- 
row that of Lady Sunderland for you. There are two 
or three new French novels come out, that when I have 
read I will lend you. I will let Mr. Wise know mama's 
commands ; I hope she has got a maid now that is good 
for something ; I am sure she was sadly tormented whilst 
I was with her. I have got a man that I really believe 
is a phoenix of a servant : he markets excellently well, is 
quiet, diligent, sober, and honest. 

You are a shrewd guesser of my parties. My dress- 
ing-room is pretty, and worth your coming to see. I 
have set my heart upon you for next winter. 

I am afraid I shall lose for some time our good friends 
the Percivals, for they are determined to go to Ireland 
in August, but I have some reason to hope they will 
not stay there ; if they do, my loss here will be irrepair- 
able. Donellan and I are to dine to-day with Sir John 
Stanley, and afterwards go with him to Pastor Fido.' 
Yesterday Mrs. Bellenden* dined with us ; and on Sunday 

George Sackville 20,000?,, with Drayton-house and the manor thereunto be- 
longing ; to Lady Catharine Beaiiclerk, 1000/. and her best diamond ring ; to 
Earl Berkeley a gold cup; to Mr. Berkeley, 5000/., to the Countess of 
Granard, 3000/. ; to Lady Craven, 3000/. ; to Lady Temple, 500/. for a ring ; 
her jewels, plate, &c., &c., to be sold, and with the residue of her estate to be 
equally divided between Lord and Lady Vere and Lord George Sackville. 

^ Pastor Fido was produced on the 21st of November, 1712. The Daily 
Journal, of the 1st of June, 1734, announces : — On Thursday, the 4th of 
June, at the King's Theatre, in the Haymarket, will be performed an o\cr&, 
called Pastor Fido, composed by Mr. Handel, intermixed with choruses. The 
scenery after a particular manner." It was repeated eight times, between the 
4 th and the 29th of June, which was the last performance of the season. — 
*ScAa?/c^er's Life of Handel. 

2 " Mrs. Bellenden." Mary Bellenden, daughter of John, 2nd Lord Bellenden, 
Maid of Honour to Queen Caroline when Princess of Wales, married the Hon. 


I had Mrs. Percival and my Lord Percival/ who often 
enquires after you, and says you are a ''dear girl" he is 
now in full employment upon a very good work, which 
is the pursuit of Mr. Cantillion's murderers, for all 
people agree that he was certainly murdered, and the 
house set on fire on purpose ; which is so dreadful an 
action, that it is to be hoped the wretches concerned in 
this \dllainous affair will be detected ; new suspicions 
rise every day, but nothing yet strong enough to con- 
demn them positively. 

I have heard once from Bunny since his being among 
the lads of Dunce ; he gives hopes of being back by 
Tunbridge season. Mrs. Barber has not yet finished the ~\ 
troublesome affair that the Pilkingtons' ingratitude has 
involved her in.'* Her poems will come out about a month 
hence. I had a letter last post from Letty Bushe, who '" 
laments in mournful lays your having given her up ; 
write to her, and tell her of the pretty country that 
surrounds you ; she loves descriptions, and she will 
receive them with advantage from you. I think I have 

John Campbell, afterwards Duke of Argyle, in 1720, therefore the Mrs. 
Bellenden here mentioned was probably a sister. 

^ John Lord Perceval, 2nd Earl of Egmont, was bom 24th Feb., 1710-11 ; 
married first on loth Feb., 1737, Catherine, second daughter of James, 5th 
Earl of Salisbury. She died 16th August, 1752, and the Earl married se- 
condly, 26th January, 1756, Catherine Compton, created Baroness Arden, 19th 
May, 1770. His lordship was created Lord Lovel and Holland, in the English 
peerage, 7th May, 1762, and died 20th Dec, 1772. His father. Sir John Per- 
ceval, was elevated to the peerage of Ireland, 21st April, 1715, as Baron Per- 
ceval, and on the 25th February, 1722, created Viscount Perceval, and on 
the 6th Nov. 1733, Earl of Egmont. He married in 1710, Catherine, eldest 
daughter of Sir Philip Parker A'Morley, Bart. His lordship died 1st May, 

* " The troublesome affair that the Pilkingtons' ingratitude has involved lier 
in." This might possibly refer to the letters sent to Queen Caroline, of which 
Mrs. Barber was suspected for some time. ) 


almost been as good as my word ; and pray observe that 
I have wrote my smallest hand. Badge is pretty well ; 
but poor Mrs. Walls is sadly plagued with her un- 
gracious son. My humble duty to dear mama. I hope 
the whey had its usual good effect. I am, my dearest 

Most tenderly and constantly yours, 

M. P. 

The following account appeared in the London Magazine of 
1734 :— 

"May 14, 1734. — This morning, about half an hour after three, 
the house of Mr. Cantillon in Albemarle Street was perceived to be 
on fire, and the smoke and smother being traced to his bed-chamber, 
the servants rushed in and found their master dead, with his head 
almost burnt off. The corpse was, however, carried off, and some 
jewels and a few other things of value saved ; but the flames were 
so violent that the house was soon burnt to the ground, as was 
likewise that of the Hon. Mr. Percival, brother to the Earl of 
Egmont, the Lord Viscount St. John's, and two other houses ad- 
jacent were greatly damaged. This accident was at first said to 
have been occasioned by Mr. Cantillon's reading in bed, and falling 
asleep with the candle burning, which was supposed to have set 
fire to some papers tliat lay near it on the table ; but two of his 
servants were soon taken up on suspicion of murdering him, and 
jafterwards setting fire to the house ; and after examination were 
(Committed to the Gatehouse. This Mr. Cantillon was formerly a 
ban]ker in the city, but about fifteen years ago removed to Paris, 
where Jjaving acquired a plentiful fortune, he lately returned 
hither, in order to purchase an estate. His lady is still abroad, 
but shortly expected here. She was daughter of Mons. Omani, 
one of the richest merchants in Paris, and half sister to the Lord 
Clare, an Irish nobleman, who followed the late King James to St. 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Orcmville. 

L. B. Strt., 7th June, 1734. 

I was very mucli provoked last writing day, that I 
was not able to find one moment to write to my dearest 
sister, but from seven in the morning till eleven at 
night, I met with impertinences ! When I first got up 
I had the headache, and walked into High Park with 
nit/ nightingale by my side, in hopes the air and exercise 
would amend me ; and so it did, but not for the purpose 
I wanted; for company came, and fiddle-faddles innu- 
merable. I dined at Sir Jolin Stanley's, where I met a 
whole heap of Moncks, Irelands, etc. ; I staid there till 
eight of the clock, and was then obliged to go to Lord 
Lansdown's, and then to Lady Weymouth, to take leave 
of her before her going out of town, or she would never 
have forgiven me. 

What is Captain Foley gone to the Highlands for ? I 
wish Bunny and he were to meet ; I fancy they would 
like one another ; poor Bernard has very bad com- 
pany with him,^ which is a terrible thing for a man of 
his turn, whose amusements are all of the sober lady 
kind. I think you had best make your visit to Mrs. 
Foley in the long evenings ; it may be convenient to her 
to bring you to town with her, and though I don't wonder 
you should regret leaving my dear mama, it will be 
only for a few months ; and what would you do if you had 
a husband who would carry you away for as long as he 

'^ ^^ Poor Bernard" h^mg pitied for the bad company he has with him, 
probably alludes to his being quartered at Dunce, in Scotland. The " lads of 
Dunce " were before mentioned. 


pleased? You may say there would be something to 
recompense, but / dont know what! I will do my 
best endeavour to make your time at least easy, if not 
delightful ; but you must understand that next winter I 
propose living much at home, and if you young thing 
like flirting about, you may do it, and bring me home 
the fruits of your labours. You must direct to Mrs. 
Letitia Bushe,' enclosed to Thomas Tickel, Esq., Secre- 
tary at the Castle, Dublin. 

I am delighted with your bee-flower, and have told my 
Lady Sunderland of it, who will search her garden 
library to find it out, and if it thrives with you, shall 
be very thankful for some of the seed. You think, madam, 
that I have no garden, perhaps ? but that's a mistake ; I 
have one as big as your parlour at Gloucester, and in it 
groweth damask-roses, stocks variegated and plain, some 
purple, some red, pinks, Philaria, some dead some alive ; 
and honeysuckles that never blow. But when you come to 
town to weed and water it, it shall be improved after the 
new taste, but till then it shall remain dishevelled and 
undrest. I have not got the books I told you of, for 
since Phill's being with me I have had no time for read- 
ing, but when I have, you shall have your share of them. 
I am of your mind, that a romance is of too great a hulk 
to sit down to read it through by way of entertainment, 
but I proposed it to you by way of helping you in your 
French study, but novels will do that as well, and are 
easily carried about. Wherever you go take some French 

' It does not appear that Letitia Bushe had at that time been in England, 
hut Ann Granville probably had executed commissions for her through her 
sister Mrs. Pendarves. 


book with you, and the dictionary, and read every day 
half an hour, for that constant using yourself to it will 
prepare you so well for the language, that one month's 
learning, or two when you come to town, will complete 
your knowledge of French. I have great pleasure in 
your understanding French; not only because it is 
polite, but for the additional entertainment you have in 
your reading; although it is certain there is variety enough 
in our own language, but there is something in the French, 
though so very different from ours, still much more suitable 
to some subjects, so that I think it is pleasant to be able 
to understand it. 

I pity Mr. Hyet; nothing can be more deplorable 
than a man under the circumstance that he is ; that un- 
willingness to part with the world after having enjoyed 
it so many years, and felt the variety of troubles incident 
to it, what can it mean ? It is either from just sense of 
their demerits, or from supposing that all things end 
with this life ; but sure no man of reflection can be so 
grossly imposed upon by a false notion ? 

Mrs. Percival will certainly go to Ireland ; and if she 
does she wdll stay all the winter, but I beheve they will 
not settle there, for Mr. Percival likes better living in 
England. I should be truly afflicted if I thought they 
would not return to us, but as for their going now, it is 
necessary to their affairs, and those that love them as I 
do must give them up when their interests is concerned ; 
and I hope my poor dear Donellan will reap some advan- 
tage from it to her health ; the change of air, and the 
agreeable cheerfulness of the place, must I think do her 
good. I assure you I wish you and I could be con- 
veniently transported there for one year, no place could 


suit your taste so well; the good-humour and conver- 
sableness of the people would please you extremely. 
To-day I am to have to dine with me Sir John Stanley, 
Lord Percival, Mr. and Mrs. Percival : they are to have 
for dinner, imprimis, hoiled leg of lamb and loin fried, 
collyflowers and carrots, beefsteaks ; secondly, roast chicken, 
artichokes and lampreys, cherry pie ; thirdly, jelly, straw- 
berries, cream, and cherries. In the afternoon Lady Mary 
Colley and Miss Carteret. 

Lady Blandford* was married last week to Sir William 
Wyndham ; my Lord Godolphin and some of that family 
pretend to find fault with her, which they have no right to 
do, for they have never used her well. Old Marlborough 
says she "has done very well," and that "if Sir William had 
courted her some time ago, she would have had him her- 
self!" Eeasonable people think the match very well ; since 
they liked matrimony, they could not either of them have 
done better. Sir William Wyndham's good sense, good 
family, and good estate, give him a title to anybody, and 
Lady Blandford's character is a very good one ; her jointure 
three thousand pounds a year. Next Monday Do- 
nellan and I go to Ham, to spend a week with Lady 
Dysart, which will be excessively pleasant, for she is very 
good-humoured and easy, and the place is the finest of 
its kind in England. I promise you shall not be forgot 
in my walks ; the situation is so charming, so that 'twill 
be impossible not to think pleasantly. Did I tell you I 
had taken again to my pencil ? you shall see the fruits of 
it as soon as I have recovered my hand enough to do 

' Maria Catherine, daughter of Peter de Jong of the province of Utrecht, 
and widow of the Marquis of Blandford, was the second wife of Sir William 


anything worth your acceptance. Lady Dysart performs 
miracles for the time she has learned ; I have but one 
objection to that sort of employment, which is the seden- 
tary life it may lead one into, and that is not healthful to 
be sure. 

Six pots more lampreys for Lady Sun, if not too late. 
I have sent you some books of music, a dormeuse^ patron, 
a little snuff for mama, and lavender-water. 

Manning gives the following account of Ham, where Mrs. Pen- 
darves says she was going to visit her cousin, Lady Dysart. 

" Ham House, in the parish of Petersham, Surrey, was first 
erected as a mansion by Sir Thomas Vavasour, Knight Marshal ; 
and surrendered by him to John Ramsay, Earl of Holdemess, who 
died in11624 or 1625, it was then sold to William Murray, thro' 
whose widow it came to Sir Lionel Talmache. The house under- 
went great alterations, and many additions were made to it by the 
Countess of Dysart, Elizabeth, (widow of Sir Lionel), and afterwards 
Duchess of Lauderdale ; but it is said to have been furnished at a 
very great expense, in the taste of those times by King Charles II." 
Lysons states, that " it was once intended for Henry Prince of Wales, 
brother of King Charles I., and is a curious specimen of a mansion 
of that age. The ceilings are painted by Verrio, and the rooms are 
ornamented with that massy magnificence of decoration then in 
fashion. The furniture very rich, and even the bellows and 
brushes in some of the apartments are of solid silver, or of silver 
filagree. In the centre of the house is a large hall, surrounded with 
an open gallery. The balustrades of the grand staircase, which is 
remarkably spacious and substantial, are of walnut-tree, and orna- 
mented with military trophies. In the north drawing-room is a 
very large and beautiful cabinet of ivory, lined with cedar. On the 
west side of the house is a gallery ninety -two in length, hung with 

Possibly a sort of hood. 


portraits. In the closet adjoining the bed-chamber which was 
the Duchess of Lauderdale's, still remains the great chair in which 
she used to sit and read ; it has a small desk fixed to it, and her 
cane hangs by the side. There are many fine pictures by the old 
masters. This house was the birthplace of that great statesman 
and general, John Duke of Argyle, who was grandson to the 
Countess of Dysart, Duchess of Lauderdale. Hume says that 
James IL was desired to retire to this house, on the arrival of the 
Prince of Orange in London, but thinking himself unsafe so near 
the metropolis, he fled privately to France." 

Ham still exists, a venerable specimen of past ages. 

For the following letter from Lady Margaret Cavendish Harley, 
(afterwards Duchess of Portland) to Miss Collingwood, the Editor 
is indebted to Sir Robert Throckmorton, who also has kindly con- 
tributed other letters to his step-ancestress, Lady Throckmorton, 
from the Duchess of Portland from Mary Granville (Mrs. Pendarves), 
and Anne Granville (Mrs. Dewes), with one letter from Miss 
Vernon preserved with the same correspondence, and which serves 
as a link in the history of that time. The letters of the Duchess 
of Portland are written in cypher with regard to the proper names. 
The key to this cypher the Editor does not possess, and, it 
must therefore be left to the reader's ingenuity to discover who 
the persons were, designated as " Long Nose" " Mrs. Sullen," 
" Cherry" &c. The former was probably the governess 
of Lady Margaret Cavendish Harley, " CollyjiowerP and the 
" Doctor^ " were the names of Miss Collingwood ; the well known 
Mrs. Montague (Miss Robinson) was also one of her correspondents 
both before and after her marriage to the Duke of Portland. 


Lady Margaret Cavendish Harley to Miss Cdlingwood} 

March, 1733. 
I think it ten thousand ages since I have seen my 
dearest Collyflower, but I hope it will not be very long 
before I shall enjoy your sweet conversation, which is 
better to me than Balm of Gilead or Balsam of Peru. 
Long Nose is out of the way, so I can write what I will. 
Last Friday, being the first of March, Mrs. Sullen and 
Cherry honoured me with their presence, though but for a 
moment, so I had not half so much wit as I cou'd have 
wished, but I hope soon to see them longer. We are to 
correspond, so I think if you will be so good as to con- 
vey our letters, for it can't be so well done else, and I 
will give you a reason for it when I see you. I was last 
Saturday at Mrs. Charles Caesar's, where was her hus- 
band, Mr. Jen and his wife, the two sisters, Mrs. Bellasise, 
pretty Miss Collaton, Julius, and young Sabin. We 
were vastly merry, and he played to us ; I wished you 
with us, but really I even wished you also at your friend's 
Miss Carew's, for he did blow delightfully. I want to 
know what experiments the Doctor has wrought upon 
the Frog ; I hope he has brought it to some sort of pro- 
position, which is an experiment I shall hke to see. 

^ CatLcri'ie, daughter of George CoUingwood, Esq., of Esslington, county of 
Nortliumberland ; married in January, 1737-8, Sir Robert Throckmorton, 
Bart., whose first wife, Lady Theresa Herbert, daughter of William Marquess 
of Powis, died June 17, 1733. George CoUingwood, of Esslington, was an 
adherent of the Stuarts, and was taken prisoner in 1715, and hung at Tyburn. 
His estate was forfeited, and purchased from the Crown by Lord Ravensworth. 
The only child of Catherine CoUingwood, Lady Throckmorton, married Mr. 
Giffard, of Chillington, in Staffordshire, and was great grandmother to the 
present Mr. Giffard of Chillington ; she would have been the heir of Essling- 
ton, but for the circumstances above-mentioned. For the above particulars the 
Editor is indebted to Sir Robert Throckmorton. 

VOL. I. 2 I 


Write me a long letter, and let me know wlien I shall 
send for it. 

Dear Colly, yours everlastingly. 
If you could spare Miss Stonor's letter, the first I saw, 
I wish you would send it me by the bearer, and you'll 
oblige your slave. 

This letter having been written in March, and Lady Margaret 
Cavendish Harley having been married in May 1734, it might have 
belonged to the same year, though according to the old style the 
date would have been 1733. 

An7ie Vernon, to Mrs. Katherine ColUngwood, at the Horible. Mrs. Collingwood's 
Lodgings in New Bond Street, next door to the Cock, London. 

Cocktbrop, June y« 27, 1734. 

If dear Miss Collingwood complains for want of 
materials to fill a letter, being at the fountain-head of 
news, what must I do that am so far off? no distant 
spring reaches in many miles of this place, and I should 
inevitably grow quite stupid were it not for the com- 
pany of my agreeable friend, with whom no hour is un- 
enjoyed, but as you know her, I need say no more in her 

I am very happy Lady Margaret Ms to be released 
out of her priso7i, and shall always be desirous of her 
friendship. I have no merit, but she has enough for us 
both ; and I am sure I can brag of sincerity to my 
friends, so if that alone will do, I hope to be happy 
often in her company next winter ; and as soon as I've 
leave, will trouble her with a letter. Do send word of 

1 Married May, 1734, the Duke of Portland to Lady Margaret Harley, sule 
daughter and heiress to the Earl of Oxford. 


her clothes and wedding, if it is not impertinent. Suppose 
by this time Lady Harriett's match is over ; fancy she 
is quite happy about it. 

Lady Petres^ had best go to the Bath now, if she is 
so ill. We have had liere Mrs. Vernon^ for ten days, 
she that was Miss Howard, she has been at the Bath 
for the abovementioned reason. We have matches on 
foot in this country — Mr. Delme to a Miss Lenthall, 
and her brother to Miss Delme ; it is great luck for 
the Lenthalls. Hope to hear from you soon. Perhaps 
you'll say, I've mor^e time, but remember how much less 
brains, and you'll pity and forgive 

Your sincere humble ser\ 

Anne Vernon. 

P.S. A Rebus, 

The mariner's wish, and the miser's desire, 
Is the name of a lady, some people admire. 

Sweet Solitude ! when life's gay hours are passed, 
Howe'er we range, on thee we fix at last, 
Tost through tempestuous seas, the voyage o'er. 
Pale we look back, and bless the friendly shore. 
Our own strict judges, our past life we scan, 
And ask if virtue has enlarged the sjian. 
If bright the prospect, we the grave defy, 
Trust future ages, and contented die. 

I had these lines sent me : think them pretty, so have 
writ them you for want of something better. Pray let 
me know how you like them. 

1 Lady Anne Radcliflfe, daughter of James, 3rd Earl of Derwentwater, mar- 
ried in May, 1732, Robert James, 8th Baron Petre. 

2 Mary, daughter and coheiress of Thomas, 6th Lord Howard of Effingham, 
married in 1734, George Vernon, Esq., of Sudbury, who was raised to the 
peerage, May 1, 1762, as Lord Vernon. LIrs. Vernon died in 1740, leaving a 
son, George, 2nd Baron, and a daughter. 

2 1 2 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

L. B. Street, 30 June, 1734. 

I have now nothing marvellous or new to tell : I write 
this purely by way of a little conversation with you. 
This morning all the beau military's are assembled in 
my neighbourhood to be reviewed by his Majesty and 
the rest of the royal family, for all assist in this great 
work, even little Princess Mary.^ I am contented with 
the honour of their dust as it comes in at the window, 
for they all pass by my door. 

I dined last Thursday, after I had made my visit to 
you, with my dear good Sir John Stanley, by way of 
taking leave. I don't believe there is in the world a 
man of such true honour and generosity. He is not 
only "just, but bright ;" " there's a lustre attends all his 
words and actions," and I pray God continue him a long 
and happy life, for his example is necessary in a world so 
abounding with evil. He has given me the command 
of Northend in his absence, and I shall make use of it. 
I design to go on Thursday or Friday, and take my 
little Donellan with me, and spend a week there at 
least. Ah! could I but transport my mama and you 
there, how should I be transported ! 

To-night is the last night of the opera, and I go, and 
to-morrow to Court. I have got a new madness, I am 
running wild after shells.^ This morning I have set my 
little collection of shells in nice order in my cabinet, and 

1 Princess Mary, fourth daughter of George II., born Feb. 22, 1723 ; mar- 
ried May 8, 1740, to Frederick, Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, and died in 1771, 

- Mrs. Pendarves's taste for sliells seemed to have existed when at Killala 
although more as an amusement than as the study which it was afterwards. 


tliey look so beautiful, that I must by some means en- 
large my stock ; the beauties of shells are as infinite as of 
flowers, and to consider how they are inhabited enlarges 
a field of wonder that leads one insensibly to the great 
Director and Author of these wonders. How surprising 
is it to observe the indifference, nay (more properly) 
stupidity of mankind, that seem to make no reflection as 
they live, are pleased with what they meet with because 
it has beautiful colours or an agreeable sound, there 
they stop, and receive but little more pleasure from them 
than a horse or a dog. 

I was stopped in my career of moralization by Mr. Jack- 
son's calling at my window ; we have chatted of the 
business of the day, and he desired me to make his com- 
pliments. Lady Dysart goes on extremely well with her 
drawing : she has got to crayons, and I design to fall 
into that way. I hope Mr. Pond ^ will help me too, for his 
colouring in crayons I think the best I have seen of any 
English painter — it tries my eyes less than work, and 
entertains me better ; / aim at everything, and will send 
you a sample of what I am about, but I don't de- 
sign to colour till I am more perfect in my drawing. I 
tried one landscape, and find it so easy, that I am almost 
tempted to stick to that sort of drawing. My Lord 

' Of this English artist we possess scarcely any particulars. He painted 
portraits, as well in oil as in crayons, and together with George Knapton, 
published a collection of the heads of illustrious persons, engraved by 
Houbraken and Virtue, the memoirs written by Dr. Birch. These two 
artists also engraved ninety-five plates from the drawings of the first 
Italian masters, in imitation of the originals. Pond published on his own ac- 
count twenty-tive caricatures, after Ghezzii and other painters, and he also 
etched some portraits in the manner of Eembrandt. This artist died in Great 
Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, September 9, 1758. He was a member of 
the Royal and Antiquarian Societies. — Filkington's Dictionary of Painters. 


Orrery ^ is returned from his travels ; he went out of town 
yesterday, but had not the good manners either to send or 
to come ; Mrs. Butler has fixed her day for Scarborough. 
She goes next Wednesday ; she says you must forgive 
her not writing to her, but she is perpetually in a hurry, 
as you may suppose. I have done the rudest thing by 
Mrs. Elis in the world, but 'tis Piggy's fault ; she told 
me she was out of town, and that she would let me know 
when she returned, but I have heard nothing of her. 
She lives as far from me as you are from Glocester ; I 
have but one man, and if I worry him to death I don't 
know where I shall get such another. I have not had 
my chair this month, because it is an extravagance at 
this time of the year. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville. 

Northend, 22 July, 1734. 

Whatever happiness my dearest sister enjoys I am 
sure of having my share of it. I own I had a secret 
pleasure to myself, besides that which you would enjoy, 
in your meeting with our good dear Deborah.'^ I knew 
I should often be called upon when two such friends met, 
and next to being with you, the assurance of being some- 
times the subject of your conversation gives me the 
highest satisfaction. Phil and I were beforehand 
with you, and have made our party several times in 
imagination, but alas ! that's a poor sickly pleasure. I 

* John, 5th Earl of Orrery, married in 1728, Lady Henrietta Hamilton, 
youngest daughter of George Earl of Orkney, who died August 12, 1732. He 
was author of a transhition of Pliny's Epistles, a Life of Dr. Pwift, &c. 

3 " Deborah.'^ A name given to Mrs. Chaponc as well as Sappho. 


have hardly known the delight you boast of, that of 
having Sally's company uninterrupted, but next summer 
1 promise myself something like it, if possible. The 
ingenious MS.' was sent in my mama's box,* it is an 
excellent piece of wit and good sense, and when she (the 
author) has rectified the law part of it, it will be fit for 
the press and the perusal of the smartest wits of the age. 
Tell her I am a little diverted at the thoughts of her being 
abused by some of the coxcombs ; bid her prepare for 
the attack, and sharpen her weapons of defence in 
readiness : they are composed of such well tempered mettle 
that her adversary will soon repent, let him be ever so 
stout, of his provocation. 

Oh sweet gloomy park in Burhill ! I see thy reverend 
oaks, that afford a friendly shade in the hottest hours of 
the day, and I hear the rooks join in their melancholy 
notes ! Don't imagine I am so unreasonable as to desire 
to hear from you twice a-week ; no, I expect it but once 
a- week, and will not have you think of writing oftener. 
It would be ungrateful to rob Sally of a pleasure she is so 
worthy of as that of your conversation ; and though you 
are a very good thing to look at, yet you must be heard 
to make the pleasure complete, and nothing but your 
tongue can give more. 

Mrs, Pendarves to Mrs. Ann OranviUe. 

L. B. Strt., 15th August, 1734. 
I conclude that this letter w^ill find my dearest Nancy 
at Cranham. A letter I received last night from our 

1 " The ins^euioas MS." It is evident that this alhides to something written 
by (Sarah Kirkham) Mrs. Chapone, whose powers of composition are else- 
where noticed in the correspondence. 


good mama makes me hope so, for I find slie has had a 
return of her sore throat, and I know how carefully you 
will nurse her. I must beg before I go away, further, 
that you will make my best acknowledgments to my 
mother for her great kindness in writing so constantly 
to me during your absence ; I think myself infinitely 
obliged to her for it, and shall never forget the many 
instances I have of her great indulgence and favour for 
me. I had your last from Buckland, wherein you told me 
your impatience to get home. I know your tenderness 
for my mama, will not let you enjoy any pleasure if 
she is in a way of wanting your care and attendance. 

I went last Sunday to Northend to meet Sir John, who, 
thank God, is returned from Tunbridge in a perfectly good 
state of health, and not a little pleased to be in quiet 
possession of Beauty spot, alias Northend ; not so quiet, 
neither, perhaps you'll say, when I am of the party. He 
has brought you a very pretty fashionable necklace and 
earrings by way of Tunbridge fairing. He told me he 
had something else coming by the carrier ; I suppose I 
shall know what it is to-day, for I dine with him. We 
came last night to town : he to make his appearance 
among his brethren at the Board, and I to sign and seal 
the agreement between Mrs. Basset and me, and then a 
fig for the law and the lawyers ! I shall cast them all 
off, and hope never more to have anything to say to 
them and their quirk and quibbles. I told you in one of 
my letters when you was at Buckland, that I had wrote 
a letter to my Lord Weymouth, full of resentment ; I am 
afraid I have done them no good, and myself harm. 
I was warm, and it is highly resented by every one of 
the family, which I am sorry for, for I would not 


quarrel with them ; but I find my Lord Weymouth is 
determined they shall not stay at Buckland, and they may 
thank Mr. Tooker^ and Mr. Beazant for that turn. I have 
not yet seen my Lord ; he came one morning here, but I 
was abroad : he is out of town now, and does not come 
till Friday, but I mil see him on Saturday, and send a 
particular account to Sally of what he says. Somebody 
has told him that Mr. Chapon has employed some 
interest against him, which has provoked him extremely. 
He designs at Michaelmas to give them warning to go 
out at Lady Day, but he does not design to take any 
rent for the time they have been in it. I own I have 
been vexed about this thing, but I think it will be best 
for them to settle somewhere else, for with two such 
underminers they will always be in danger of a very 
trotiblesome uneasy life ; I have drawn them into this 
trouble, but if that w^ill be any alleviation I have had a 
double share of it; nothing touches one more sharply 
than to be the occasion of a friend's distress. The clock 
has struck ten, and tells me to prepare to meet my 
lawyers. If I have time in the evening I will say a word 
or two more, but for fear I should not, will not take my 
leave till I have desired you to present my humble duty 
and kindest wishes to my dear mama. 

1 " Mr. Tooker." Tliis no doubt was the Eev. Tretheway Tooker, Eector 
of Buckland. In the autobiography his name was spelt " Tucker,'' but he is 
elsewhere called Tooker, and the change of letters in spelling names was at 
that period so common, that it is scarcely necessary to comment upon it. Mrs. 
Pendarves's intervention for the continuance of the Cha^wns as tenants at 
Buckland, seems to have involved her in a feud with Lord Weymouth and 
her own family. The Editor has not ascertained who the Mr. Bezant was who 
conspired to render Lord Weymouth so ill-disposed towards them, but it is 
not unhkely that the witty " Sally Kirkham," did not spare the eccentricities 
of " Tranio," and that he wished for a neighbour with less talent and under- 


I am yours, my dearest Anna, with the utmost 

Letty Bushe copied my picture for Donnellan, and 
sent it (like a ninny) by the post, and 'tis lost ; yours 
is safe, but I suppose she will keep it to copy again. 

From Grace Countess Granville, sister to Ixt'ly Jane Granville, wife of Sir 
WUliam, Leveson Gower, to Mrs. Fendarves, 

Hawnes, August 25th, 1734. 

Dear Cousin, 

While Lady Weymouth was with me I could 
think of nothing else, and now I can't but say she still 
employs my thoughts. The best excuse is always to speak 
truth, and you have so much sincerety in your nature, 
that I know you'd be better pleased with being treated so, 
than with flourishes that pass away as soon as told. I 
should have sooner thanked you for your last obliging 
letter but for the above said reason, for I really love you 
heartily, and often wish it were in my power to serve 
you. I think you have no fault but not considering 
yourself enough ; men if they are good for anything may 
shift, but ladies cannot ! You have, my dear, too little 
for yourself and too much for generosities ; if your heart 
swells beyond your purse you will suffer greatly, which 
will affect me, because I have nothing in my power to 
help you ; believe me when I say this, for I have all 
the esteem and tenderness for you that you can desire. 
If you can punish yourself with a winter's solitude, you'd 
be most welcome to me, as in the summer I never have a 
spare bed, but this is a sad request to a lady so bright and 
gay ; so that I can't be surprised if it should appear 

OF MRS. DELANY. " 491 

unreasonable to you ; but had as my proposal is, I think 
it is better than ray Cousin Edgcombs ! I carit hear the 
thought of your being hurried into Cornwall to be a 
mother-in-law^ without a good settlement I Lihertu, believe 
me, is far better than doing so, and the opportunity of 
waiting on ray beloved Sir John Stanley, who is really 
one of the worthiest raen in the world : I hope to have a 
kind salute frora him in a little time, for my Lord 
Weymouth has my promise to go to London to Xten 
either his son or daughter.^ My stay is to be but a week, 
just to see ray friends. Your friend and humble servant, 
Fanny^, mends in my hands ; she rides every day with 
her brother, has good courage, and great delight in being 
able to guide her horse. I wish I could guide my pen 
as well, and then I would oftener write, and assure my 
dear cousin how much 

I am her most affectionate faithful humble servant, 


This characteristic letter of Countess Granville's contains another 
instance of the absolutely received idea of the last century — that 
the only consideration in any marriage was the amount of settle- 
ment, and that inclination or disposition were never thought of. 
It also throws some light upon an allusion in one of Mrs. Pendarves 
letters to Ann Granville, wherein she speaks of being again on the 
same terms as ever with Lady Sunderland, " let Dragons roar as 
they ivill." The marriage which Countess Granville disapproved 
for Mrs. Pendarves, was to Mr. Edgecombe, who had before been a 

^ Richard Edgcumbe, Esq., of Moiint Edgcumbe, M.P. for Cornwall. Ho 
married Matilda, daughter of Sir Henry Fnmese, Bart., of Waldershare, Kent, 
and in 1742, was created Baron Edgcumbe. Frequent family alliances made 
almost all the west county chieftains cousins. 

2 This was written prior to the birth of Lord Weymouth's eldest son, 
Thomas, born 1734. 

^ The Hon. Frances Carteret, afterwards Marchioness of Tweedale. 


supposed suitor to Lady Sunderland's sister ; and it is not impos- 
sible, that although the old Countess disapproved of her cousin ^ 
Mary Granville's, marrying their cousin, Mr. Edgecombe — yet that 
she might have equally disapproved of Mrs. Pendarves's renewed 
intimacy with a family into which she did not wish Mr. Edgecombe 
to marry, but where he had been much encouraged. The opinions 
of Mrs. Pendarves and Countess Granville exactly coincided with 
respect to their regard for Sir John Stanley, whom they both 
appeared equally to esteem and respect. 

Mrs. Pendarves to Dr. Swift. 

Little Brook Street, Sept. 9, 1734. 


I find your correspondence is like the singing of the 
nightingale — no bird sings so sweetly, but the pleasure 
is quickly past ; a month or two of harmony, and then 
we lose it till next spring. I wish your favours may as 
certainly return. I am at this time not only deprived 
of your letters, but of all other means of inquiring after 
your health, your friends and my correspondents being 
dispersed to their summer quarters, and know as httle of 
you as I do. I have not forgot one mortifying article on 
this occasion, and if your design in neglecting me was to 
humble me, it has taken effect. Could I find out the 
means of being revenged I would most certainly put it 
in execution, but I have only the malice of an incensed, 
neglected woman, without the power of returning it. 
The last letter I writ to you was from Gloucester, about 
a twelvemonth ago, after that I went to Long Leat to 
my Lady Weymouth ; came to town in January, where 
I have remained ever since, except a few weeks I spent 
at Sir John Stanley's at Northend, (the Delville of this 

OF MRS. DELANY. " 493 

paii of the world) . I hope Naboth's Vineyard flourishes ; 
it always has my good wishes, though I am not near 
enough to partake of its fruits. The town is now empty, 
and by most people called dull ; to me it is just agreeable, 
for I have most of my particular friends in town. 
My surperfluous acquaintance I can very well spare. 
My Lord Carteret is at Hawnes ; my Lady Carteret is 
in town nursing my Lady Dysart, who is brought to 
bed of a very fine son, and in hopes of my Lady Wey- 
mouth's being soon under the same circumstances. 

I have not seen my Lord Bathurst since I was at his 
house in Gloucestershire. That is a mischief I believe 
you have produced, for as long as I could entertain him 
with an account of his friend the Dean he was glad to 
see me, but lately we have been great strangers. Mrs. 
Donellan sometimes talks of making a winter's visit to 
Dublin, and has vanity enough to think you are one of 
those that will treat her kindly. Her loss to me will be 
irreparable, besides the mortification it will be to me to 
have her go to a place where I should so gladly accompany 
her ; but I know she will be just, and tell the reason 
why I could not this year take such a progress. After 
having forced myself into your company, it will be imper- 
tinent to make you a longer visit and destroy the inten- 
tion of it, which was only to assure you of my being, sir, 
your most faithful and obliged humble servant, 

M. Pendarves. 


Duchess of Portland to Miss Collingwood. 

BuUstrode, Sep^'. 16th, 1734. 

Dear Doctor, 

Your letter gave me infinite pleasure. I hope 
you will never stand upon letters, but write whenever 
any news, or the spirit, moves you, and I will do the 
same. I know, my dearest Colly's wishes are very sin- 
cere, and am much obliged to you for them ; I assure you 
that you shall always have a share of my friendship, and 
hope you will grant me the same. You say you want to 
know what is become of the Elder of the Tribe of Jacob ; 
why, much against True Blue's^ will and mine, she 
came down with the Speaker of the House of Commons, 
who desired she might. They stayed a week, and the 
Elder took upon her to order most extremely, and 
was sometimes rebuked by the Speaker, but not very 
often. She would have fain have stayed, and when she 
went away trembled most excessively, as if she had had 
an ague, and as I hear afterwards, was extremely melan- 
choly. She told me she designed to ride down here, and 
go back at night ; " Do ye, (says I,) sure you can't do 
that !" and never said I should be glad to see her, which 
baulked lier much I believe. She is at present with the 
Speaker, and is to go into the county of Somerset with 
her, but the Speaker says that she is to go to your town 
after that, for she won't have her stay there with her. 
She makes great complaints how dull a hfe she leads, 

* " True Blue" is evidently the Duke of Portland ; but the Editor has not 
sufficient grounds to hazard a conjecture as to the real names of the jiersons 
indicated by " The Elder of the Tribe of Jacob" " The Speaker of the House 
of Commons," " Mrs. Tehee,'' " The Prophetess," " The Quilted Petticoat,' 
« The Giant;' " The Library," or ♦' Lady Artifice." 

OF MRS. DELANY. ' 495 

Lut I fancy it will end in her always living there. I 
don't know where she can mend herself truly. When 
she was here there was a gentleman that pretended to 
be deep in love with her, and since she has been gone 
has wrote a couple of love-letters to her, which madam 
beheves to be in earnest, and by what I find he has 
put tJie West Wind into a quite different comer from 
what he was. I fancy you may have good diversion 
with her about it, for she shows her letters to everybody ; 
and to be suie she will to you, for you were formerly 
a great favourite with her. You must not take any 
notice that you know anything from me about it, or that 
we correspond ; I don't doubt but Mrs. Tehee was very 
merry at the fair, especially if she drunk of the Lake of 
ObHvion before she went ; I want to know what the 
Prophetess talked about me ; I wonder whether I am in 
her books or not. 

I am sorry to hear you are so fond of a country life, 
but I hope it will never be your fate to be chained to 
a country squire. I am quite rejoiced at the exit of 
the Elephant, and hear that part of the Quilted Petti- 
coat is quite happy, for I had a letter Sunday last 
from her, — she tells me she " thinks herself in a dream, 
her life is so much changed for the better." I hear she 
has left the Giant upwards of three score thousand pound 
in money, besides jewels, plate, land, &c. I am to be at 
the ball that tlie Library makes, but whether you will he 
admitted under the shadow of my wdng (as you call it) 
I can't tell ; for I suppose it will be stufft up with all the 
tribe of Jacob, which you know will be disagreeable 
enough. I do assure you I want as much to see you as 
you can me, for I have myriads of things to tell you ; 
and when mama goes to the Bath I shall come to town 


for two or three days to take leave of her before she goes 
her journey, and shall be at Whitehall, so I am deter- 
mined nothing shall prevent my seeing and discoursing 
my dear Doctor. 

The ode I sent you I thought extremely silly, but 
when I see you I will show you the verses I told you 
of, which are very pretty, and you may copy them if 
you please; they are not by the Club, but by the 
" Poetical Footman." I found out your riddle, and 
have puzzled a good many people with it. I have sent you 
one in return, that you may send to the Wit. I don't 
know whether I wrote you word of Mrs. Sullen s writing 
to me or not, but I believe I did not ; the letter came 
here, and I was in town, so the D^ opened it, thinking it 
was to her, upon which I was obliged to show it to the 
Higher Powers,"^ who came here t'other day, and the 
Speaker of the House of Commons asked me if I had 
answered her letter j I said " yes,^' to which she replied, 
" Oh, you need not keep up a corespondence with her, it 
is better not." So when I vsnrite to her again I shall tell 
her I would not have her say to any body that we write to 
one another, for it would be ridiculous to disoblige the 
Speaker in such a trifle as that, and we may do it and 
she know nothing of it, but I told you to tell her she 
should not write till she heard from me first. Now you 
are come to town I expect news in abundance, for you 

' "I was obliged to show it to the Higher Powers.''^ The incident here re- 
lated of the arbitrary manner in which the Duchess of Portland was com- 
manded with regard to her female corresi)ondent, after having been obliged to 
show her friend's letter, in consequence of its being known that she had 
received one, affords an explanation of the reason which induced her to take 
the trouble of having a cy^jher for all the names of the persons mentioned, so 
a '. to render it more difficult of interpretation if they should fall into any hands 
but the [Hii-sou to whom they were written. 


know nothing gives me so much satisfaction to have 
as some of your sheets well filled. Pray is Lady Artifice 
Flirtigig and her chere moitie going to France ? for I see 
they are, in the papers. Pray send me the Irish letter 
you have so long promised me ; I had last week a 
charming long letter from dear Kitty, who is very well. 
I shall not fail to carry you to see her in tlie winter. I 
suppose you have had many delightful letters from Miss 
Stonor ; what would I give to be acquainted with her 
and to have some of her letters! I am, my dear friend, 
perfectly well, and have no returns of my fever. I 
hope whenever you make a purchase you will have the 
same good fortune attend you that I have had, for I do 
assui'e you that True Blue has every good quality you 
wished him to have. He wants much to be acquainted 
with you, so I propose a great deal of mirth next winter. 

Yours most faithfully. 
Write to me very soon. 

" The exit of the Elephant " may possibly allude to the death of 
Elizabeth, Duchess-Dowager of Albemarle and Duchess of Montague, 
wiiose death is thus recorded in the London Magazine for August 

" On the 28th, at night, died at Newcastle House in Clerkenwell- 
Close, in the 96th year of her age, her Grace Elizabeth Dutchess- 
Dowagpr of Albemarle, and Dutchess-Do wager of Montagu. Her 
Grace was eldest aughter, and one of the coheirs of Henry Caven- 
dish, Duke of Newcastle, and married first, Christopher Monk, 
Duke of Albemarle, son to the famous General Monk, and next, 
Iialph Lord Montagu, father to the present Duke. She was his 
Grace's second wife, and had no issue by him. She was allied to 
most of the noble families in England. Besides being mother-in- 
law to the Duke of Montagu, and consequently grandmother to the 
Duchess of Manchester and Countess of Cardigan, she was aunt to 
the Countess of Oxford^ to the Lady Viscountess Morpeth, to the 

VOL. I. 2 K 


Countesses of" Salisbury and Harold, and to the Lady Lovel, 
Baroness of Clifford. She was likewise great aunt to the Duchess 
of Portland, to the present Duke of Newcastle, and to the Earl of 
Eockingham, and widow of Christopher, second Duke of Albemarle. 
As she was a coheiress of the last Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, 
she enjoyed an immense fortune, and being mad, was confined at 
Montagu House, but served with royal state. Her relations pre- 
tended she was dead, and the Duke was forced to produce her in 
Westminster Hall. After his death, she lived at Clerkenwell, and 
3000?. a year was allowed for her imaginary court. The rest was 
laid up, and went to her own relations." 

Walpole observes, " This puts me in mind of the Duchess of 
Albemarle, who was mad with pride. The first Duke of Montagu 
married her a« Emperor of China ; and to her death she was served 
on the knee, taking her maids for ladies of the bed-chamber." 

Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Granville, 

Little Brook Strt., 26 Sept.', 1734. 

I should have wrote to my dearest Anna last post, 
but thus the case stood, and I could not. Mr. Goupy^ 
staid so late with me that day, that by the time I was 
dressed 'twas three o' the clock. I was to dine at Sir 
John Stanley's, who you know does not keep very regular 
hours, and to be at home by six, to meet Lady Mary 
CoUey. She was here before I could get h ome, and staid 
till ten ; Phill supped with me, and it was impossible for 

* "This painter was born at Nevers, in France, but came to England 
when very young, and practised as a drav/ing-master and engraver. He 
was patronised by Dr. Brooke Taylor, with whom he made several excur- 
sions for the purpose of sketching landscapes after nature. By this means he 
became known to Frederick Prince of Wales, who employed him very much at 
Kew and Cliefden House. On the accession of his late Majesty, (George II.,) 
Goupy had a small jiension allowed him, which, however, he did not long 
enjoy, dying at an advanced age, in 1763. His landscapes are much in the 
etyle of Salvator Rosa." — PUkingtmi'a Dicti(mary of Painters. 


me to secure a moment of writing time. They had better 
have let me done my duty, I should have been pleasanter 
company to them than I was ; for I own I never am easy 
when I give you the least shadow to think I neglect you. 
Your dabs, my dear, are little bits of delight that always 
rejoice my heart. I know by experience that one's de- 
signs are so frequently interrupted, that there is no 
dependence on them. I hope your horse-races will 
afford you plentiful diversion, and that all the squires 
will make love to you ; but I am afraid their hearts 
are so full of tenderness for their horses, that there is 
no room left for a more delicate affection, especially 
for one who takes up so much room as you do ; for 
you are unreasonable enough to require the whole heart 
to yourself, and will hardly condescend to take up with 
the coimer of a stable ; and I can't but commend you ! 
I hope you were jigging at a ball, or flirting at an 
assembly, but 1 rather fear the headache as a thing that 
is more likely to come in your way. 

Poor Jenny Webb ! she has soon followed'her father ; 
I have great compassion for her mother and sisters, but as 
Mrs. Duncombe observes (in one of her letters to Mrs. 
Donellan), the " changes of this life are so quick, that we 
have hardly time to mourn or rejoice for anything, before 
the circumstance alters." She is (Mrs. Dun), a very sen- 
sible woman, and I lament the loss of her conversation, but 
I believe she is fixed for ever in the country. By this to be 
sure you have seen Betty Carter : I hear she is highly 
delighted with the kind entertainment she has met with in 
Gloucester. We have had some terrible stormy weather ; 
I hope Cranham is so snugly situated as to defend my 
mother from the melancholy sound of it : when Michael- 

2 K 2 


mass is over we may expect a serener sky. Lady Gran- 
ville^ comes to town on Saturday, and stays a fortnight, 
I suppose I shall go back with her. Lady Weymouth and 
her son, Lady Dy and her son, are all well and happy, 
and so are you and I also, though without a scrap of 
their magnificence ; as we can partake of other's joys, and 
I think our greatest distress is that we can't add to them 
as much as we desire. 

People that enjoy all the magnificence of life are so 
wrapped up in themselves, they are not capable of feeling 
so much the joys that spring from their own good for- 
tune, and by that means are deprived of many pleasures 
that you and I have a relish for ; so far as this we have 
the advantage, but in another instance they have it over 
us ; for they have no leisure to consider the miseries of 
their feUow-creatures. Those few that can compassionate 
woes they never felt, have the glorious opportunity of re- 
lieving them ; and there they are the object of my envy. 

Lady Sunderland is very well, and her youngest son 
recovering ,♦ Mrs. Tichborne has taken Ward's drop again, 
and is very well after it ; how is that poor lame woman 
that we used sometimes to visit in the cloysters ? If the 
drop would be of any service to her I will bring some of it 
down with me. It has certainly done wonderful cures in 
scorbutic cases ; but particularly for cancers and palsies it 
has had surprising success. I have not heard from Bunny 
for several posts, so I hope he is on the road. 

They talk of the King of Prussia's dying; if that 
comes to pass 'tis likely we shall have weddings, but 
if my mama is determined not to part with you, I must 

* The old Countess Granville. 


not make interest for you either with Princess Royal or 
Princess AmeHa : I own I had rather fix you with Prin- 
cess CaroHne, but in an affair of this kind one must be 
contented with what one can get. As' for the Prince 
of Wales, all the places about his princess, when he 
marries (which is not yet talked of), will be disposed of 
to those that can bring good interest with them, and 
they wiU be given to married women, 'tis thought, as the 
Queen's were ; I hope we shall have leisure to talk 
this over. I have finished my Apollo, and given it to 
Sir John Stanley, who was much pleased with it ; I wish 
I could have shown it to you, but you will see it in the 

Mrs. Barber dined with me yesterday ; she left me as 
soon as she had dined, but I was not alone ; Xenophon's 
Cyrus kept me company, and entertained me very well. 

Dean Swift to Mrs. Pendarves, in Little Brook Street, near Orosvenor Square, 


Oct. 7, 1734. 


When I received the honor and happiness of 
your last letter (dated Sept. 9), I was afflicted wdth a 
pair of disorders that usually seize me once a year, and 
with which I have been acquainted from my youth, but 
it is only of late years that they have begun to come 
together, although I should have been better contented 
with one at a time — these are giddiness and deafness, 
which usually last a month ; the first tormenting my 
body, and the other making me incapable of conversing. 
In this juncture your letter found me : but I was able to 
read, though not to fiear ; neither did I value my deaf- 


ness for 'three days, because your letter was my constant 
entertainment during that time ; after which I grew 
sensibly better, and, although I was not abroad till yes- 
terday, I find myself well enough to acknowledge the 
great favor you have done me, but cannot guess your 
motive for so much goodness. I guess that your good 
Grenius, accidentally meeting mine, was prevailed on to 
solicit your pity ! Or, did you happen to be at leisure 
by the summer absence of your friends ? Or, would you 
appear a constant nymph, when all my goddesses of 
much longer acquaintance have forsaken me, as it is 
reasonable they should ? But the men are almost as bad 
as the ladies, and I cannot but think them in the right ; 
for I cannot make shifts and lie rough, and be undone 
by starving in scanty lodgings, without horses, servants, 
or conveniences, as I used to do in London, with port- 
wine, or perhaps Porter's ale, to save charges ! 

You dare not pretend to say that your town equals ours 
in hospitable evenings, with your deep play and no enter- 
tainment but a cup of chocolate, unless you have mended 
your manners. I will not declare your reasons for not 
taking a second trip over hither, because you have offered 
none but your royal will and pleasure ; but if I were 
in the case of your friends here, with more Hfe before me 
and better health, I would solicit an act of Parliament 
to prevent your coming among us ; or, at least to make it 
high treason in you ever to leave us. In the meantime, 
I wish you were forced over by debts or want, because 
we would gladly agree to a contribution for life, dinners 
and suppers excluded, that are to go for nothing. I 
speak for the pubhc good of this country ; because a per- 
\ nicious heresy prevails here among the men, that it is the 


duty of your sex to be fools in every article except what 
is merely domestic, and to do the ladies justice, there are 
very few of them without a good share of that heresy, 
except upon one article, that they have as little regard 
for family business as for the improvement of their minds I 

I have had for some time a design to write against this 
heresy, but have now laid those thoughts aside, for fear of 
making both sexes my enemies ; however, if you will come 
over to my assistance, I will carry you about among our 
adversaries, and dare them to produce one instance where 
your want of ignorance makes you affected, pretending, 
conceited, disdainful, endeavouring to speak like a scholar, 
with twenty more faults objected by themselves, their 
lovers, or their husbands. But, I fear your case is des- 
perate, for I know you never laugh at a jest before you 
understand it ; and I much question whether you under- 
stand a fan, or have so good a fancy at silks as others J 
and your way of spelling would not be intelligible. There- 
fore upon your arrival hither (which I expect in three 
packets at furthest), I will give you a licence to be as 
silly as you can possibly afford, one half-hour every week, 
to the heretics of each sex, to atone for which you are to 
keep one fasting-day at Doctor Delany's or Dr. Helshams, 
and one at the Deanery. 

I think my Lord Carteret is the most happy, in all 
circumstances of life, that I ever have known, and as he 
well deserves it, so I hope he is sensible of it ; all 
my fear is that he will be too rich. I am no cause 
of my Lord Bathurst's forsaking you ; he hath long 
done the same with me, and to say the truth, madam, 
it is a very cold scent to continue a correspondence 
with one whom we never expect to see. I never 


knew it long practised, except among the learned of 
different nations ; Mr. Pope and my Lord Bolingbroke 
themselves begin to fail me, in seven years. Nothing 
vexes me so much with relation to you, as that with 
all my disposition to find faults, I was never once able 
to fix upon anything that I could find amiss, although 
I watched you narrowly ; for when I found we were 
to lose you soon, I kept my eyes and ears always upon 
you, in hopes that you would make some houtade. It 
is, you know, a French word, and signifies a sudden 
jerk from a horse's hinder feet which you did not 
expect, because you thought him for some months a sober 
animal, and this hath been my case with several ladies 
whom I chose for friends ; in a week, a month, or a year, 
hardly one of them failed to give me a houtade; there- 
fore I command you will obey my orders, in coming 
over hither for one whole year ; after which, upon the 
first houtade you make, I will give you my pass to be 

Are you acquainted with the Duke of Chandois ?' I 
know your cozen^ Lansdown and he were intimate friends. 
I have known the Duke long and well, and thought I had 
a share in his common favor, but he hath lately given me 
great cause of complaint. I was pressed by many persons 
of learning here to write to his Grace, that having some 
old records relating to this kingdom, which were taken 
from hence by the Earl of Clarendon, who was Lieu- 

' James Bi-}dges, created Marquis of Carnarvon and Duke of Chandos on 
the 30th of April, 1719. He married— 1st, in 1696-7 Mary, daughter to Sir 
Thomas Lake, of Cannons ; 2ndly, Cassandra, sister of Thomas Lord Middle- 
ton ; 3rdly, in April, 1736, Lydia Catherine Van Haaten, widow of Sir 
Thomas Davall. The Duke died August 9, 1744. 

^ " Your cozen Lansdown" is a mistake foi- your uncle Lansdown. 


tenant here, and purchased them from private owners, 
and are now in the Duke's possession, that his Grace 
would please to bestow them to the University here, 
because Irish antiquities are of little value or curiosity 
to any other nation. I writ with all the civility in my 
power, and with compliments on the fame of his gene- 
rosity, and in a style very different from what I use to 
my friends with titles, but he hath pleased to be silent 
for above six weeks, which is the first treatment I ever 
met with of that kind from any English person of 
quality, and what would better become a little Irish 
Baron than a great English Duke. But whether grandeur 
or party be the cause I shall not enquire, but leave it to 
you, and expect you will employ " my Brother Lansdown " 
(his Lordship will tell you why I give him that title), if 
he still converses with the Duke, to know the reason of this 
treatment, and you shall be my instrument to find it out, 
although it should cost you two shillings for a chair ! 

If I have tired you, it is the effect of the great esteem 
I have for you, do but lessen your own merits, and I 
will shorten my letters in proportion. If you will 
come among us, I engage your dreadful old beggarly 
western Parson to residence, otherwise we all resolve to 
send him over, which is in our opinion the surest way 
to drive you hither, for you will be in more haste to fly 
from, than to follow even Mrs. Donellan, when you 
keep out of sight ; if she be among you, I desire she 
may know I am her true admirer and most humble 

I am, with true respect and high esteem. 

Your most obed* and obliged humble serv*, 

J. Swift, 


You may please to know that after dining alone as a 
king, not yet daring to face the cold, you see the mark in 
the red spot of wine and water that accidentally fell. 

Oct. 7th 1734. 

Your friends here are all well, and remember you with 
pleasure and regret. You must call this a Postcript. 

You must excuse my many interlinings, on account of 
my ill head, which disposes me to blunders. 

Mr$. Pendarves to Mrs. Ann Oranville. 

L. B. Strt., 15 Octr., 1734 

If ever I bestow a pleasure on you, my dearest sister, 
you have a way of paying me very good interest for it. 
I think I have lately used you but scurvily by way of a 
correspondent, and yet you do not lessen your favours 
to me. It is not in the power of pleasure or pain to drive 
you from my mind — you are absolutely necessary to the 
heightening one, and alleviating the other. I wish I 
could bring it about, to have Bunny my conductor to 
Glocester, but 'tis not practicable, or indeed if it were is 
it prudent, for Sir John Stanley expresses so great a love 
for him that one would not draw him away when he 
has been so long absent from Sir John. I hope in the 
summer he will be able to make you a visit ; the pain 
in his shoulder is better. The weather has been and is 
cruelly bad, and the Hertfordshire roads I should ima- 
gine must be impassable ; I doubt I shall find many bad 
bits between this and Glocester ; I have not had since 
my brother came to town a quarter of an hour's discourse 
with him ; he promised to come to me this morning, but 
behold so thick a fog interposes, that I fear I shall not 
see him. Last post I did not write, but I sent you a 


letter from Donellan ; you must make Foley amends 
another year for your neglect of this, but for people that 
do not keep an equipage 'tis a difficulty to bring about 
seeing those friends that lie at such a distance from them. 
Your shoes shall come with me, and I wiU get a cha- 
fing-dish for my mother ; but tell me if it must be for 
coals, or spirits, or both. I was in hopes to have named 
my day in this letter, but I cannot till Mr. Stanley 
comes to town, having a few afiairs to transact with him 
before I leave this place, and he does not come till next 
week. I shall hire a coach that I may take my rubbish 
with me. Since I began this letter Bunny has been 
with me, and I have communicated to him my design of 
paying you a winter's visit, which he in his silent way 
approves of, though he " wishes it was summer for my 
sake ;" he has so lately known the distress of bad roads 
that he compassionates those that are to wade through 
them. But I'll have him to know I shall be in a state of 
envy and not of pity, when I am travelHng towards my 
dear mama and sister ; I hope I may be able to leave 
this place this day fortnight ; I must make three days of 
it, the days being now so short ; and don't expect me 
tiU late at night — for I never yet got into Glocester before 
ten at night from London ; and don't attempt meeting 
me on the road for there is so much mud and filth in the 
way that it would grieve me to have you trotting 
through it. Your harp^ was the most musical one that 
ever was played on, 'twas sweet and tender, and had 
every good property you wished it might have, and was 
well bestowed on the kind friend you sent it to, who 

^ " Your harp " was probably figurative, and an allusion to a copy of verses 
sent to Sir J. Stanley bv Ann Granville. 


drank your health. Moncks and Donellan were of y* 
party ; they quadrilled^ after dinner till ten, and I dozed 
by them ; I wanted a pretty tete-a-tete friend, and a closet 
a top of the house, for I confess losing at cards infallibly 
lulls me to sleep. Well, is it not pure that we shall 
meet in a fortnight, please God to permit it ? my heart 
dances about it,, and 'tis so honest a joy that I hope 
I shall not be disappointed. Tell me if you can how I 
must direct to Mr. James Tooker ? My duty to our 
good mother. I cannot express the joy I feel at the 
thoughts of seeing her soon ; I don't know what time 
you propose returning to Grloster : perhaps the time I 
have named for coming to you may be sooner than is 
convenient. Adieu, my dearest Anna; pray God Al- 
mighty bless you, and send us a happy meeting 

I am, 
Most tenderly and faithfully yours, 


On Friday next I shall have a little musical party — 
Strada to sing and one to accompany her, and young 
Gleg for the fiddle, who plays very well ; the audience are 
to be the Percivals, S"" John, Bunny, Lady Mary Coley,' 
and Mr. Hamilton — a fine batchelor man her brother, who 
is just such a sober musical thing as my brother. 

1 " They quadrilVd^''^ — played at quadrille. 

2 Lady Mary Colley was the second daughter of James, 6th Earl of 
Abercorn, and sister to James, 7th Earl. She had eight other brothers, whose 
names are not specified by Burke. 


2%e Duchess of Portland to Miss Cdlingwood. 

BuUstrode, Octber 20th, 1734. 

I should before now have returned my dear Doctor a 
million of thanks for her most obHging, entertaining, and 
delightful letter, which came to my hands just as my 
winkers were open. I read it with great satisfaction and 
pleasure, which occasioned my not being ready for break- 
fast,' but as we do not deal much in ceremonials, it 
was not high treason. The muff please to accept my most 
kind acknowledgements for, and imagine you see me 
blush for the trouble I gave you ; pray don't forget the 
price when I come to town that I may be out of your 
debt in that respect ; for as for all the many kind pieces of 
friendship which you have been so good to favour me 
with, I am very sensible you have a long score with 
me, but I do assure you I shall take all opport unity s of 
convincing my dear friend, I am not ungratefull, and 
shall think myself extremely happy whenever anything 
offers where I may any ways be serviceable to you. 

The reason of my not writing before was occasioned by 
a return of my fever, which I am afraid I must take the 
bark for : I am at present much better, and believe it is 
owing to the pleasure I give myself in writing to you. 
I will be sure to mind the advice you give me in being 
careful in not catching cold in my feet ; I assure you I 
was extremely troubled to leave you so soon at White- 
hall. I thought I was quite secure in having you alone 

' " Occasioned my not being ready for hreaJc/ast." The fact thus mentioned 
as an exception proves that the Duchess's habits were then very different from 
those of her later life, as she used to remain awake the whole night and be 
read to by her readers or waiting-women, of whom there were two who sat 
up every alternate night. This habit did not appear to have been contracted 


for the Manuscripts^ told me they could not possibly 
come, for their great devotions would hinder 'em ; but you 
see I am in such great favour, that coming to see me and 
the bustle of an election are upon the same foot, for they 
will neglect their duty for either ; you know what I mean, 
for a word to the wise is enough. 

You say you are impatient for the sequel of the Story 
upon the Staircase : it is this, Roses and Nettles were to 
know nothing of my making a purchase till it was quite 
over, for what reason I know not, but it was decreed so 
by the Higher Powers, so when the flowers were come 
together and tyed up in a nosegay, advice was sent to 
the Roses and Nettles, and as you know the quality of 
that weed, it would not be acceptable with Sweet William, 
but however there was a fine pacific congratulary oration 
from the Nettle, which without doubt came from the 
heart of that root, which was taken very well but their 
flourishing so much at Florence, and as I believe the 
seed beginning to spread, inflamed the wrath of Mr. Ford 
so much, that he would not believe it was the pleasure of 
hearing Farinelli sing which was their pretence, but the 
other which they could not part from. The matter I 
believe is now made up, and that no Roses will be ex- 
ported till February or March next. Now I think I have 

from ill health, as it was continued when her pursuits and occupations were 
actively carried on after she got up, and she used to say that when she 
Avas in some hotel she used to sink into a comfortahle sleep on hearing the 
chamhermaid cleaning the stairs near her room in the morning, which did 
rot the least disturb her, as she knew that the hour had then arrived for her 
to begin her night's rest, and that from that time she slept most soimdly for 
the number of hours that she required repose, viz., till twelve or one o'clock. 

^ " The Manuscripts,'" " the Story on the Staircase,^'' " the Roses and Nettles" 
" the Nosegay" and "the Angel" must be referred to the ingenious surmises 
of the reader, together with the cyphers in the preceding letter of the Duchess 
of Portland to Miss Collinerwood. 


given you a full account of the gardening affairs. The 
Sweet Williams^ as agreable as ever, and more so if 
possible ; I wish you knew more of that flower, for I 
;im sure you would be quite charmed with it ; I assure 
3'ou the Collyfiower ^ is a great favourite, and I don't 
doubt of its growing more so the better it is known. 

When I desired you to write a long letter I very weU 
knew how empty the town was, and how fruitful your 
pate is, so might reasonably expect well filled sheets 
which I assure you I do next Sunday, for it will be a 
week after you have received mine. Thanks are due to 
you for the pebbles, let me have an account of them in 
your next. All the world has been at the Bath, but came 
away before the Elder of the Tribe went ; how cruel is 
that little urchin ! I really believe her fate will be to 
teach the apes to dance in Pluto's dominions at last, as 
you say. 

My Lord is your most humble servant, and drank your 
health to-day by the Angel, and esteems it a feather in 
his hat, that you wall own kindred with mortals. Dear 
Colly, you will certainly spoil my devotion, for I stared 
at your picture all church time ; I have had a letter 
from the Wit, who is very angry you don't write to her ; 
she sent me a rebus, which I desire you will send me the 
explanation of very soon. 

A measure of lace, that's less than a nail, 
And where travellers hope to meet with good ale, 
The shepherd's retreat when the sun is at height, 
Is the name of a lady we love at first sight. 

Thank you for the Irish letter, it was long a coming, 
but very welcome when it did. 

^ Another name for the Duke of Portland. 
* Miss Collincrwood. 


The Riddle. — Answer 28 : which number, multiplied by 3, produces 84 ; 
2 sevenths of 84, which number, trebled, produces 72 ; 2 ninths of 72 is 16 ; 
and the square root of 16 is 4. 

I am yours most affectionately, 

M. C. Portland, which I take to be the 
answer to y' rebus. 

The Duchess of Portland to Miss CdUingwood. 
* Bullstrode, Nov^', 3rd. 1734. 

I beg my dearest Colly will not be surprised if this 
epistle exceeds in stupidity above all those I have ever 
wrote to you, for I have just now been writing a letter to 
Holland, which has caused me to squeeze my brain so 
much, and have found it so costive or otherways barren, 
that I don't know when it wiU come to its primeval bright- 
ness again ; but I was resolved I would not defer writing 
to you one post, so you must e'en take it for better for 
worse, for the pleasure your letters always give me is 
inexpressible, but I believe I have said that fifty thou- 
sand times to you and hope you are well assured of it. I 
have been quite well ever since I wrote to you last, and 
believe your letter has had more effect upon me than the 

I am very sorry to hear Miss Stonor has been so ill, 
and if she should ever come to town I hope she will 
not deny me the pleasure of being acquainted with her. 
I had a letter from Aspasia ^ tother day, who told me 
she had seen you ; I assure you, you are in great favour 
with her — she reaUy has a vast deal of wit ; I have had 

* Aspasia was one of the names of Mary Granville (Mrs. Pendarves). 

OF MHS. DELANO'. -513 

some charming letters from her ; pray let me have an 
account of your witty conversation with her. 

I hear such commendations of the button-maker tra- 
gedian, that I hope he won't quit the stage till I have 
had the honour of seeing h;^ majestical appearance. 
Your account of Venus was delightful ; I believe, you 
don't know who I mean, but I will explain it to you. 
Lady Berkshire^ (who you know has an infinite deal of 
wit) went to make a visit some years ago to Lady George 
Howard," where she found the good lady, old Lady Patch 
Nose Skip worth, and another old woman as great a beauty 
as the two former, and the Duke of Gordon,^ who was then 
reckoned a mighty handsome man. The Countess as she 
went out of the room whispered the Duke, and told him 
she desired the next time she saw him he would tell her 
which of those three beauties he had given the golden 
apple too, which set him in to such a fit of laughter, that 
he was obliged to quit the room without further cere- 
mony, now without doubt Lady George was Venu^ ! 

I believe you have guessed the rebus right, but I took 
it to be your name, but however ask 3Irs. Sullen about 
it for she sent it me. Pray make inquiries about the peb- 
ble marchant, for I would not lose those precious stones 
upon any account ; and as they are to be cut according to 
your fancy and approbation, I shall wear them for your 

1 Catharine, daughter of James Grahame, Esq., married March 5, 1708-9, 
Henry, 4th Earl of Berkshire. 

* Lord George Howard, son of Henry, 6th Duke of Norfolk, bj- his second 
wife, married Arabella, daughter and heir of Sir Edmund Allen, Bart., and 
widow of Francis Thompson, Esq. 

3 Alexander, 2nd Duke of Gordon, died in 1728, and was succeeded by his 
eldest son, Cosmo George, 3rd Duke, who married in 1741 Catharine, daughter 
of William,'Earl of Aberdeen. 

VOL. I. 2 L 


sake. If you pick up any rarities or curiosities, pray keep 
them against T come to town,^ and don't lose them as you 
did the half moon ; I think that is a bad omen, to be so neg- 
ligent of Diana's badge. Since my last came a fresh mail 
from Italy, with an account that Roses and Nettles were 
arrived at Vicenza, in order to be transplanted at Eome, 
where I imagine they will spread as much as at Florence. 
I think you should address Flora to be an Anemone, which 
always closes as the dew falls upon it and opens with the 
rays of Phoebus, and is a most beautiful flower ! I suppose 
the reverend divine made you a visit and gave you a long 
account about your humble servant, and that I expected 
to hear from you next Sunday without fail. He told me 
of a prodigiously comical letter you had with hard words ; I 
should be vastly obliged to you if you could send it me to 
read ; I would return it again by the next post. 

Pray if you have any verses, riddles, rebus's, conum- 
drums, punns, and carry whichits, I desire you will send 
them me. 

I hope you have not burnt the collection of rarities 
that you were to have sent to all the world. I wish you 
would copy over the titles of them and send it me. My 
Lord is your obedient. 

I am mv dearest Doctor's most constant, 

Patient, and affectionate Cousin. 

I believe whenever Mr. West loses his heart he will 
never accuse the Elder of the Tribe of Jacob of that theft. 

* " If you pick up any rarities or curiosities pray keep them against I come to 
town." This sentence proves that the Duchess of Portland's love of natural 
history was of very early date, and that the similarity of pursuits, which 
strengthened the bonds of friendship with Mary Granville, who was her senior 
by fifteen years, were cultivated as soon as she became her own mistress, and 
finally rendered her collection of precious stones, shells, flowers and rare 
animals, together with objects of verld, including the Portland Vase, celebrated 
all over Europe. 


From the Duchess of Portland. For Miss Collingwood, at her lodgings in 
New Bond Street, London. 

Bullstrode, Novber. lo, 1734. 

My dearest Doctor will wish me at York for pestering 
her so soon again with my epistles ; but I could not miss 
a post from thanking you for one of the most delightful 
letters I ever received. You certainly laugh at me when 
you say, you should be satisfied if yours were half as en- 
tertaining, no, Colly, that won't pass upon me but for a 
joke. I would give a bit of my ears to write as well as 
you do, and then for you to say such things ! Fye, fye ! 
child, you tell jibs, and you don't consider that you micst 
confess all this to an old fellow {not a young one) ; mind 
that, and you'll have the punishment of telling your 
beads so many times more then you have occasion for.^ 

You desire the confirmation of my good health, and if 
you have a mind, you shall have it under my hand and 
seal that I am perfectly well. The reverend divine mis- 
takes ; I don't write a vast deal, for I have not wrote near 
a hundred letters since I came down, and I only write 
long ones to you, and Kitty and the Quilted Petticoat, 
and I am sure, that can do me no manner of harm, but 
rather good. If you give me an account in your 'next letter 
about the pebbles it is time enough, which I hope will 
be next Sunday ; I don't believe you will be long in 
Diana's train, or men must be stupid creatures indeed 
then, and I don't take you to have any nun's disposition 
about you. What's become of the Wild Beast ? is he in 
the land of the living still ? I want to know whether Miss 
Andrews is married yet, send me an account of that affair. 

^ This was a joking allusion to Miss CoUingwood's being a Eoman Catholic. 

^w J.J ^ 


I fancied the letter of hard words was very witty, and 
that it was Miss Stonor's — if you should find it do send 
it me ; you say you don't understand musick, but if 
you remember you did Dutch performances. I believe 
I shall come up to hear Farinelli, but don't say anything 
of it ; I must certainly see you then. I am of your opinion 
about Aspasia, but I did not think she set people together 
by the ears, though I think she had better let her Carrots^ 
alone. Cherry cou'd hardly be spoilt with the small pox, 
for I suppose that pretty forehead remains, cat's eyes, and 
fine chin : the Duchess of Bedford, you know, she says, 
is very like her ; I think Lady Mary Finch ^ very pretty 
sure. Lord Castlemain's equipage was very much out of 
the way, I hope his clothes were his father's or his own 
vjork, they would be of much more value. You are much 
mistaken about my correspondents, for I had not heard a 
word of all you told me. 

What possessed Lady Fitzwilliam ^ to go into a convent, 
let me know that ? Send me the copy of the curiosities in 
your next letter. I approve of the verses of Pope's very 
well, I think you have no loss of the Prophetess s com- 
pany. I want some account of Roses and Nettles, I hear 

' " She had tetter let her Carrots alone." Query Carterets. • This remark 
might apply to the feud, alluded to by Mrs. Peudarves, between herself 
and Lord Weymouth, in consequence of her advocacy of the Chapones, and 
which she mentioned had been taken up against her by all the family. The 
Duchess of Portland might hav? thought her interference in their behalf ill- 
advised. It is not, however, certain that the Aspasia here mentioned was 
Mrs. Pendarves, although she was known by that name by some of her intimate 

2 Lady Mary Finch, fourth daughter of Daniel, Earl of Nottingham by 
the daughter of Christopher Viscount Hatton. Lady Mary married Thomas, 
1st Marquess of Rockingham. 

' Anne, wife of John Earl Fitz William, and daughter and sole heir of 
John Stringer, Esq. 


Roses's birthday was observed with great pomp and splen- 
dour ; there was above forty gentlemen that had an en- 
tertainment, and Farinelli made a magnificent suit of 
clothes and charmed the company with his voice as 
Orpheus did, (and so kept them from drinking,) though 
this is only my supposition. I expect an answer to all 
ray query s by the aforesaid time. My Lord sends his 
light love and his nimble service to his cousin. • 

Dear Doctor, 

Your most devoted. 

From Mrs. PendarWB to Dean Swift. 

St. Mary's Square, Gloucester, 

November 20, 1734. 


I am truly concerned at your having been so 
much out of order ; I most heartily wish you constant 
health and happiness, though that is of little use to you, 
and only serves to do honour to myself by showing I 
know how to prize what is valuable. I should have 
returned you thanks much sooner for the favour of your 
last letter, but when I received it I was preparing for my 
journey hither, and have ever since had so great a dis- 
order in one of my eyes that, till this moment, I have not 
been able to make my acknowledgments to you. I won- 
der you should be at a loss for a reason for my writing 
to you ; we all love honour and pleasure, were your 
letters dull, do you imagine my vanity would not be 
fond of corresponding with the Dean of St. Patrick's ? 
But the last reason jow. give I like best, and will stick 
by, which is that I am a more constant nymph than all 


your goddesses of much, longer acquaintance ; and fur- 
thermore I venture to promise you are in no danger of 
receiving a boutade, if that depends on my will. As for 
those " fasting days "^ you talk of, they are, I confess, 
alluring baits, and I should certainly have been with you 
in three packets, according to your commands, could I 
either fly or swim, but I am a heavy lump, destined 
for a few years to this earthly element ; I cannot move 
about without the concurrent assistance of several animals 
that are very expensive. 

Now for business : as soon as I received your letter, 
I went to your " brother Lansdoum "^ and spoke to him 
about the Duke of Chandos. He desired me to make his 
compliments to you, and to tell you he was very sorry 
he could be of no service to you in that affair, but he 
has had no manner of correspondence, or even acquaint- 
ance with the Duke these fifteen years. I have put it, 
however, into hands that wiU pursue it diligently, and I 
hope, obtain for you what you desire ; if they do not 
succeed you must not call me negligent, for whatever 
lies in my power to serve you is of too much consequence 
for me to neglect. 

I have left my good friend and your humble servant, 
Mrs. Donellan, behind me in London, where she meets 
with little entertainment suitable to her understanding ; 
and she is a much fitter companion for the Dublin 
Thursday Society than for the trifling company she 
is now engaged in ; I wish you had her with you 

* " Fasting days " meant dining upon two or three dishes at the deanery, 
which, in comparison with mai^nificent tables, tlie Dean iised to call " fasting." 

^ There was an old joke of Dean Swift being called " Brother," by Lord 


(since I cannot have her), because I know she would be 
liappier than where she is, and my wish I think no bad 
one for you. Neither my eyes nor paper will hold out 
any longer. 

I am, sir, your most 

Faithful humble servant, 
M. Pendarves 

I beg my compliments to all your friends. 

Tlie Duchess of Portland to Miss CoHingwood. 

Bullstrode, Decber. 1st, 1734. 

My dearest Doctor is so good to tell me that Monday 
is a particular favorite day of yours, because my letters 
arrive of that day. I am sure Simday is my happy 
day, for as soon as my winkers are opened I am always 
blessed with one of your epistles, which ever gives me 
the greatest of satisfactions. I have deferred so long 
coming to hear Farinelli that I can't tell but that I 
shall not do it at all, for I can't possibly come this 
month, and then it will be so short a time that it will 
not be worth while. You may depend upon seeing me 
as often as the Speaker and the Elder will let me, and 
shall often rue my hard fate to be deprived of that 
charming conversation of yours. 

I have not heard an age from the Quilted Petticoat^ 
and can't imagine what is become of her ; but I heard 
some time ago that she was much taken up with a lover 
of about a hundred years old. I wrote her word of it, 
and told her I took it very ill that she would not 


acquaint me of such an arduous affair that concerned 
her so much. She answered me she had a rival, a 
Cat, and that her father said " it was time enough to 
he married, for they were young i' so she said she 
supposed "they stayed for an Act of ParHament to 
make him of age."" But what's become of her since I 
know not, though I am in expectation every post of a 
letter from her ; I love her extremely. 

Dear Kitty was very well when I heard from her. I 
have had a great many charming letters from her ; she is 
now in London. When I write to her next I shall 
certainly let her know what you say of her ; I know 
she proposes great pleasure in your acquaintance when I 
come to town. I am very sensible of your love, friend- 
ship and partiality to me, and hope you will be always 
so good to tell me of my faults ; as you say you 
are a plain dealer, I don't question but you are so. 
I have got a great cargo of pebbles, which I am in 
great hopes will succeed, but they are so many that I 
must wait patiently till I come to town before I trouble 
you with them ! You rejoice me very much by telling 
me Miss Stonor is much better; I heartily wish her 
good health, for there can be no complete happiness 
w^ithout that blessing ; you indeed surprised me very 
much by telling me Lady Fitzwilliam was a Eoman 
Catholick, for I had never heard it before. 

I am quite of your opinion about Roses, and believe 
the female affection exceeded that of the musick to a very 
great degree, which occasioned the songster so many fine 
presents. I don't imagine the Nettle will remember 
any of his old acquaintance, and that he will have the 
same fancy for the cloth as he had before he went ; for I 


believe a toupee and a fine suit of clothes he will have 
a much greater veneration for then a dismal black 

I thought I had wrote you word of poor Dup's^ 
misfortune, or, more properly, narrow escape ; that affair 
is quite at an end, for as soon as he proposed himself she 
said " she never woud marry hut with an equivalent 
estate r She was treated by all at the Bath just as she 
deserved, and I hear was hissed as she went along the 
streets, which pleased me much. I must tell you a pretty 
speech of hers, one night that he danced, about a week 
after it was over she said, she " did not think he had been 
capable of so unmanerly a triumph." But go to the 
Manuscripts, and they will tell you more about it, I want 
to know what they say, for I hear she is a great admirer 
of their brother. I am glad Lady Harriot is so well pro- 
vided for, but I suppose there is some fortune for the child 
that she is to bring forth. I think it is very likely that 
the youngest copy of the Manuscript should make their 
brags, for that reason I shall not write in haste to her. 

I thank you for not mentioning me to the Elder, 
for it is better not ; you see there is nothing to be 
wondered at under the sun, as the wise man says ; and I 
suppose my rattles will last for ever and aye. Mrs. 
Coleman is a very pretty woman and not unlikely to 
succeed ; sure Pulteney will come in then. I am surprised 
at what you tell me about Lord Charles ;^ there is some 
great alteration, and I imagine Lady Sophia and she 
will be inseparable till they quarrel about a lover, which 

1 Thomas Viscount Dupplin, son of George Henry, 7tli Earl of Kinnoul. 
His mother was Abigail, youngest daughter of Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford. 

2 " Lord Charles " is evidently a lady by the succeeding sentence. 


is not improbable. Mrs. Sullen would not be a little 
pleased at being a vicountess, but his estate surely should 
have a great fortune, for it is very small. When did you 
hear of Lady Montague/ and where is she now ? I hope 
she was well when you had a letter. Do you hear nothing 
of Lady Petre's bringing forth yet ? what sort of a 
spouse does he make now ? Does the Dss of Norfolk'' 
go on in her hard words still ? have you no new ones to 
send me ? If you have not seen the verses on Mrs. T — 's 
death by Lady Mary I will send them you. When did 
you see pretty Lady Belle w ?^ Answer all my queries 
by next Sunday's post. 

I am, dear Doctor, 

most affectionately yours. 

My Lord begs his service to your worship. 

Deem Swift to Mrs. Pendarves. 

Dublin, Feb. 22, 1734. (0..S.) 


I have observed among my own sex, and particu- 
larly in myself, that those of us who grow most insignifi- 
cant expect most civility, and give less than they did when 
they possibly were good for something. I am grown 
sickly, weak, lean, forgetful, peevish, spiritless, — and for 
those very reasons expect that you, who have nothing 

* Barbara, third daughter of Sir John Webb, of Halthorj:), in the county of 
Gloucester, married, in 1720, Anthony Lord Viscount Montagu. 

' Thomas, 8th Duke of Norfolk, married, in 1709, Mary, daughter of Sir 
Nicholas Shirbume, of Stonyhurst. The Duke died December 23, 1732, and 
his widow married Peregrine Widdrington, Esq., and died Sejitcmber 24, 

' Sir Edward Bellew married Eleanor, eldest daughter and co-heir of Michael 
Moore, Esq., of Droglicda. 


to do but to be happy, should be entertaining me with 
your letters and civilities, although I never return 
either. Your last is dated above two months' ago, since 
which time (as well as a good while before) I never had one 
single hour of health or spirit to acknowledge it. It is 
your fault ; why did you not come sooner into the world 
or let me come later ? It is your fault for coming into 
Ireland at all ; it is your fault for leaving it. I confess 
your case is hard, for if you return you are a great fool 
to come among beggars and slaves, and if you do not, 
you are a great knave in forsaking those you have se- 
duced to admire you. 

The complaint you make of a disorder in one of 
your eyes will admit no raillery, it is what I was 
heartily afflicted to hear, but since you were able to 
write, I hope it hath entirely left you. I am often 
told that I am an ill judge of ladies' eyes, so that I 
shall make you an ill compliment by confessing that I 
read in yours all the accomplishments I found in your 
mind and conversation, and happened to agree in my 
thoughts with better judges. I only wish they could 
never shine out of Dublin, for then you would recover 
the only temporal blessings this town affords — I mean 
sociable dinners and cheerful evenings, which, without 
your assistance, we shall infallibly lose. For Dr. Delany 
lives entirely at Delvill, the town air will not agree 
with his lad}^, and in winter there is no seeing him or 
dining with him but by those who keep coaches, and they 
must return the moment after dinner. But I have chid 
him into taking a house just next to his, which will have 
three bed-chambers, where his winter visitants may lie, 
and a bed shall be fitted up for you. Your false reasons 


for not coming hither are the same in one article for my 
not going among you, I mean the business of expense ; 
but I can remove yours easily, it is but to stay with us 
always, and then you can live at least three times better 
than at home, where everything is thrice as dear, and y' 
money 1 2 in the hundred better, whereas my sickness 
and years make it impossible for me to live at London. 
I must have three horses, as many servants, and a large 
house, neither can I live without constant wine, while 
my poor revenues are sinking every day. 

I am very sorry for the death of your couzin Lans- 
down : his son Graham is ruining himself as fast as pos- 
sible ; but I hope the young lady has an untouchable 
settlement. I am very much obliged to your care about 
that business with the Duke of Chandois : I hear he told 
a person he would grant my request, but " that he had 
no acquaintance with me." 

I had a letter lately from Mrs. Donellan, and I com- 
mand you to let her know that I will answer it with 
the first hour of tolerable health. Pray, madam, pre- 
serve your eyes, how dangerous soever they may be to 
us ; and yet you ought in mercy to put them out, be- 
cause they direct your hand in writing, which is equally 
dangerous. Well, madam, pray Grod bless you wherever 
you go or reside ! may you be ever as you are, agreeable 
to every Killala curate and Dublin dean, for I disdain to 
mention temporal folks without gowns and cassocks. I 
will wish for your happiness, although I shall never see 
you, as Horace did for Galatea when she was going a 
long voyage from home ; pray read the verses in the 


Sis licet felix nbicunque malis 

Et meraor nostri Galatea vivas, &c. 


A year or two ago I would have put the whole into 
English verse and applied it to you, but my rhyming is 
fled with my health, and what is more to be pitied is 
even my vein of satire upon ladies is lost. 

Dear madam, beheve me to be, with the truest respect 
and esteem, 

Your most obedient 

Humble servant, 

J. Swift. 

Dean Swift has, in this letter, again made the mistake of men- 
tioning Lord Lansdown as the cousin instead of the uncle of Mrs. 
Pendarves, and Mr. Graliam (of Flatten) as the 807i, instead of son- 
in-law, of Lord Lansdown. It does not appear that any letters 
have been preserved of Mrs. Pendarves's on the death of Lord 
Lansdown, an event which must have affected her deeply, as 
throughout all the trials of her first marriage, of which Lord 
Lansdown was the cause, she expressed her attachment to him. 
The following notices of the deatlis of Lady Lansdown and himself 
may here properly precede the bill for his burial, by which it 
may be inferred that he and Lady Lansdown were not buried at 
the same time, as the charges for their interment would probably 
have appeared in the same account. The notice from the London 
Magazine is as follows : — " February, 1735. Deaths. The Lady 
Mary, wife of the Eight Honb^ George, Lord Lansdown." And 
immediately following, under the same date of month and year, 
and also without the day of the month : — " The Right Hon^'^ 
George Granville, Lord Lansdown, in the county of Devon, so 
created in the 10"^ of Queen Anne. He dying without issue male, 
the title is extinct His lady died but a few days before him. See 
his lordship's excellent letters." 

The following bill for Lord Lansdown's burial is dated 1734: — 



" S* Clement Danes in the County of Midd'^ 

" A Bill of Dues for the Buriall of the R^ Honb'« the Lord 


Chancell Vault. 

Minister . 

Clerk . 


Light and Charcoal in y® Vault 


Bearers . 

Lights in the Church 


Register . 

Late Attendance 

£ 8. 








d 12 





£20 4 

" fFebruary the 3 day, 1734, 

then received the ffull of this Bill, 

By me, Robert Cocks, 

Parish Clerk." 

On the back of this paper is written — " Mr. Thos. Blackwall, 
Rector of S^ Clements." 

The apparent discrepancy between this date and the date of 
notice in the London Magazine (1735) is easily accounted for by 
the old and new style. Dean Swift's letter agrees in date with 
the bill — 1734, old style — whilst the London Magazine com- 
menced the new year from the 1st of January. The enquiries 
made at St. Clements Danes have as yet been unsuccessful in dis- 
covering any tomb or tablet of any kind to mark the spot where 
George Lord Lansdowne was buried. The only record yet dis- 
covered in that church being the register of burials, wherein is 
found that of " the Right Honb^^ George, Lord Lansdown, Baron 
of Bideford, on the 3'*^ of February, 1734." In the course of the 
enquiries made at St. Clements Danes, in the month of December, 
1859, with a view to ascertain whether the coffins and coffin- 


plates of Lord and Lady Lansdown, with any inscription, still 
existed, it was mentioned that a short time previous an order to 
close the vault had been put in force ; and although the vault had 
been very little used, and was not at all unwholesome, a quantity 
of quick lime had been put down, according to the regulation, and 
the coffins having been placed in the centre, the whole was filled 
up with rubbish. Previous to this there were two bodies, which 
were always called "My Lord and My Lady," which were in extra- 
ordinary preservation in the vault ; that they were not skeletons, 
although the skin was much dried, and they were very light ; 
that they were set upright against the wall, and that it had been 
always the custom, when there was a new clerk, to take him into 
the vault, and introduce him to "My Lord and My Lady." It 
occurred to the Editor that these might possibly have been the 
bodies of Lord and Lady Lansdown, that their extraordinary 
state of preservation might be accounted for from their having 
been embalmed, and that after the coffins had decayed, and the 
plates lost (or if of silver stolen), they might have retained the 
appellation of " My Lord and My Lady," till all trace of any other 
name had disappeared ? 

The following letter from Mrs. Badge proves that Mrs. Pen- 
darves, Ann Granville, and Mr. Granville, were all in London on 
the 8th of March. The Editor does not possess any letters of 
Mrs. Pendarves's between the dates of November 20th, 1734, 
when she wrote from her mother's at Gloucester, and the 18th of 
March following. It is probable that she remained during that 
interval with Mrs. Granville and her sister, which supposition is 
confirmed by a letter from Mrs. Donellan to Dr. Swill, the 19th 
of January, 1735, in which she tells him that " the duty she herself 
owes a very good mother" has kept her so many years in London, 
*' since she desires her company, as well as the convenience which 
she enjoys with her, of a house, coach, and servants at command ;" 
and also that she supposes Dr. Swift knows that " Mrs. Pen- 
darves has been some time at Gloucester, having preferred a pious 


visit to a sick mother in a dull country town, to London in its 
gayest dress ;" but that " she designs to return to them tlie 
next month." Mrs. Pendarves and her sister must therefore 
have been together either in Gloucester or London, when the deatli 
of Lord Lansdown occurred, which may account for there not 
being any letter to Ann Granville on that occasion. On the 10th 
of May, 1735, Mrs. Donellan again writes to Dr. Swift, and tells 
him of the large accession of fortune which Mr. Granville inherited 
in consequence of Lord Lansdown's death, which she adds " was so 
settled that my Lord Lansdown could not touch it." Mrs. 
Donellan adds, that Mr. Granville is a man of great worth, a very 
kind brother, and that he has it now in his power to provide amply 
for his sister Ann Granville, of whom Mrs. Pendarves is " extremely 
fond," and that this " must have been a cordial to compensate for 
her grief " at Lord Lansdown's death. 

From Susan Badge to the IIon<'^^ Mrs. Oranville, these. 

March 8, 1734-5. 


My master and the two ladys has laide there 
commands upon me to present theare most humble 
deuty to your ladyship and to lett you knowe thay are 
all very well, which you will heare from under thaire own 
hands next weeke. The ladys dine today with Mr. 
Granville att his inchanted palace, where I was a Thurs- 
day for the first time, haveing bin confinde at home with 
ill health and ill weather. I was so delighted with the 
prittiness of the place and the great convenceis in so 
small a compace, and the goodness of the master of it, 
that I thinke it has almost cured me ; it enabled me, 
with God's assistance, to goe yesterday to Little Brook 
Street, where I founde the good ladys well and well 
pleas'd. Mr. Granville did me the honour to call upon 
me to day. I toulde him that I must give your ladyship 


an account of the prittyness of his house, and he charg'd 
me to doe so, and to present his most humble deuty and 
to begg pardon he did not write this postt. There 
is everything in better order than one coulde expect. 
Mr. Granville will have necessarys, but nothing super- 
fleus ; but he is a mericle of goodness and management ; 
he tells me I shall come and be att his house while he goes 
to the countrey, wh ich is no small delighte to me. 

I beginn now to flatter myselfe with the hopes I may 
live to see your ladyship in towne, which will be no small 
pleasure to me ; I hope good Mrs. Viney and the deare 
little jewels and the rest of her famely are all well : I 
wish 'em all happines, and begg your ladyship will be 
pleas'd to exsept of my most humble deuty. 
For ever, madam, your most deutyfull 

And most obedient servaint, 

Susan Badge.' 

Mrs. "Wallace presents her humble duty to your lady- 
ship ; she has lost her oulde lodger, she dyed last month, 
but we have got one Mr. Rime. 

Miss Granville sends your ladyship this note-paper. 

^ Supnn Badge was evidently an old family housekeeper or "waiting-wcnmn, 
and had been housekeeper to Mr. Granville. It is very probable that she was 
a clergyman's daughter, as in the last century many persons in that rank of 
life (much to their honour) took such situations, and fulfilled them with the 
greatest credit, retaining the respect of those above and below them. Mrs, 
Badge appeared when she wrote this letter to be a retired out-pensioner of 
Mr. Granville's. 

VOL. I. 2 M 


Mrs. Pendarves to Mrs. Granville. 

15 March, 1734-5. 

I received the pleasure of my dearest mama's letter 
yesterday. I am very angry with the post for being so 
unjust to us, and for giving you reason to think we are 
one moment negligent of our duty to you. My sister is 
very much mended by Dr. Hollins's prescriptions ; she 
looks abundantly better, and is as lively as she used to 
be. We were together at Mr. Handel's oratorio Esther, 
and the day after at Lady Strafford's, all which has 
agreed perfectly well with her. The good account you 
give us of your health does not a little contribute to our 
happiness ; indeed we could enjoy none had we not the 
constant assurance of your being well, and well pleased. 
Mr. Simmonds is just come in — my sister begins with 
him to-day. 

I believe you have heard from my brother since 
I last wrote : he is very well, thank God ; we are to 
dine with him to-day at his " Palace," as Badge calls it ; 
it is a fair^/ one. He is impatient to hear something 
about Paradise, as he thinks it is a place will suit your 
inclination, and he seems to have nothing so much at his 
heart as making us all happy. I heartily wish you to 
have Betty Freeman ; for if you settle in the country she 
would be a clever servant for you, though there is a little 
sturdiness in her temper. The jaunt you propose to my 
sister and to me would be very agreeable to us botli, 
but 'tis not at present practicable, for my brother travels 
on horseback, and is obliged to be back again so soon to 
settle his affairs, that we should spend more time on the 


road than we should have to stay at Gloster ; but I hope 
you cannot imagine we should neglect any opportunity 
of waiting on you that we could with any tolerable con- 
venience lay hold of: I am glad Badge performed her 
epistle so well; her master was always a darling, and 
you may imagine his charms dont lessen in her eyes. 
The seal of your letter happened to blot out the price of 
the lampreys, and I cannot find out whether it was meant 
for two or ten shillings, but I suppose the latter ; if so, 
two pots will do till they are cheaper. If you have 
bespoke more they must come, and as soon as they are 
half-a-crown or three shillings, four pots for my Lady 

Yesterday my cousin Isaacson, his wife, and young 
CuUen dined here, I never saw the cousin look so well : 
they ai'e very happy, for their eldest girl has just re- 
covered from the small pox. The tea for Mrs. Ahenlack 
went last week by Mr. Bell. Molly Ellit made me a 
visit last week, the Lady Comptons are very civil to her, 
and she is quite happy, but thinks of Gloces^er with 
some contempt. Mrs. Foley dined here yesterday, she 
is pretty well : I am very sorry for poor Miss Molly 
Unet, I am afraid she indulges herself in an indolent 
way too much, though the sharp winds we have had 
have been but bad encouragement for crazy folks to 
venture abroad in. There is to be a magnificent mas- 
querade at y* Spanish Ambassador's after Lent ; happy 
are those that can get tickets. I hope to get one for my 
sister, for it wiU be a show worth going to. The Per- 
civals, to my great mortification, are positively deter- 
mined to go to Ireland in two months ; they are much your 
humble servants. George has been pretty well since she 

2 M 2 


came to town till within these two or three days that she 
has complained of her foot — the sharp weather I believe 
occasions it. She is sensible of the honour you do her in 
enquiring so kindly after her, and desires me to present 
her humble duty and most grateful acknowledgments. 
To-night is Farinelli's benefit ; all the polite world will 
flock there, and go at four o' the clock, for fear they 
should not be time enough : I don't love mobbing, and 
so I shall leave them to themselves. My sister gave you 
an account of Mr. Handel's playing here for three hours 
together : I did wish for you, for no entertainment in 
music could exceed it, except his playing on the organ 
in Esther, where he performs a part in two concertos, 
that are the finest things I ever heard in my life. Doc' 
Meingy made us a visit last Thursday, he desired his 
compliments to you ; he has told the Bishop of Grioster 
so much of you, that he intends to be a good neighbour 
to you when he goes to Glocester ; he is a very worthy 
good sort of man. I am called away, and have only 
time idt say that I am, with the utmost respect and 

Dearest madam. 
Your most dutiful and most obed* 

M. Pendarves. 
My sister's most affectionate duty. 


From Mrs. Pendarves to her mother, Mrs. QranviUe. 

Lower Brook Street, April 12, 1735. 


I congratulate you on the pleasure of having my 
brother Granville's company ; I am sure it makes you 
both happy, though I am a little envious at not being a 
witness of it. My sister is gone on horseback this 
morning, with Mr. Peyton and Mr. Jackson by way of 
guards ; I hope it will agree with her, if it does she is to 
continue it. She still complains of her side, but Doctor 
Hollins assures me there is no manner of danger in it, 
that it is a humour fixed on the muscles, and it will take 
a good deal of time to get the better of ; she sleeps well, 
and has a good appetite, but takes pills and a draught 
night and morning in order to sweeten her blood. 

I receiv'd my brother's letter yesterday about the salmon, 
I was then at Sir John Stanley's who is very well, and I 
have seen him almost every day since the squire left us ; 
pray, madam, tell him young Sweep is the merriest, best- 
humoured kitten that ever was played with, she scrambles 
for an hour together all over me whenever I go there. 
The party that was to have gone to my brother's to- 
night, is put off till next week, for poor Lady Peyton is 
very ill and keeps her bed. Mr. Peyton has been much 
indisposed ; I am afraid he will not recover. Mrs. Dash- 
wood (the dowager) came to town last week, and looks as 
well as ever I remember her : all that family enquire very 
particularly and kindly after our good mama, which does 
not a little recommend them to our favour. 

Yesterday morning my sister and I went with Mrs. 
Donellan to Mr. Handel's house to hear the first re- 


hearsal of the new opera Alcina.^ I think it the best he 
ever made, but T have thought so of so many, that I will not 
say positively 'tis the finest, but 'tis so fine I have not words 
to describe it. Strada has a whole scene of charming 
recitative — there are a thousand beauties. Whilst Mr. 
Handel was playing his part, I could not help thinking 
him a necromancer in the midst of his own enchantments. 
I go next Wednesday with Lady Weymouth to see 
it performed at Co vent Garden, but I believe, dear 
madam, you will be tired of my account of music, which 
does not describe so well as it sounds. I go on with 
my painting, and have just finished a large Madonna 
that I wish Mrs. Viney was to see, because 'tis the best 
thing I have done. Sir John Stanley has seized on it, 
which makes me not a little vain. Mr. Perceival has 
fixed his time for leaving England ; he must be in Ire- 
land by the 23rd of June. I find by the newspapers, 
that poor Mr. Newton is dead, which I am sincerely sorry 
for ; my sister was very much touched with it. I grieve 
for his family, and want to know which way they are to be 
dispos'd of; if Miss Newton cared to part with the shells 
Mr. Newton had, I should be glad to give her something 
in exchange for them, whatever you think would be con- 
venient and proper. His books, I suppose, will be sold, 
and very likely cheap ; I beg if they are, that you will 
please to let me know. Mrs. Donnellan is now at work 
by me, and desires her compliments to you and Bunny. 
I will not make any apology for the blunders I have 

* On the 16th of April, 1735, Handel was in a condition to reopen the 
theatrical season with Alcina, which was finished on the 8th of April, and 
contained thirty-two airs, one duet, and four little choruses. Alcina, which is 
one of his most admired productions, was pretty well received, and brought 
the season to a close. 


made in my letter, she has occasioned them by her 
prattling. Last night arrived at my house six pots of 
lamprey, which I suppose were those I bespoke for my 
Lady Sunderland ; if so, I beg the favour of my brother 
to pay for them, and I will repay him when he comes 
to town. I hope the assemblies are not neglected, I 
fancy my brother was no unwelcome guest ; we long to 
hear how you proceed about Paradise ; I am obliged to 
break abruptly off, for I have hardly allowed myself time 
to dress. My sister is not yet come home, a sign that 
her ride and company please her. I am, 
Dearest madam, 

Your most dutiful and most obed*, 
M. Pendarves. 

My best service to my brother. 

My sister came home from riding about three o' the 
clock in very good spirits : it did not hurt her at all, but 
delighted her prodigiously. Mrs. Chute, Mrs. Crisp, 
Mr. Jackson, and Mr. Peyton are now here, and desire 
compliments to you and my brother ; they will not go to 
my brother's house till he is there to r.e.c.e.ive them. 

Frmi the Countess Granville to Mrs. Pendarves or Mrs. Ann OranviUe, (but 

without address.) 

May 11th, 1735. 

I hope you have not so good a reason for your silence 
as I have had for mine ; I have been dying this three 
months, have not stirred out of my apartment or been 

' The word r.e.c.e.ive, thus written, probably was to imitate Mr. 
Granville's deliberate manner of speaking. 


able to write to anybody but Lady 0/ — who is as 
good as an angel to me. As to her fair daughters I am 
in their debt at least ten letters, and yet without cere- 
mony they continue enquiring after me ; you are the only 
person stands upon ceremony. I confess I am in your 
debt one letter, which I did not think worth answering, 
since it was only compHments, and filled with a notion 
you had taken in your head I was angry, which thought 
surprised me, because upon receiving a letter from you 
at your first coming to town, I wrote immediately as kind 
a letter as I was well able to word it to you and your 
brother, which you did not think fit to take any notice of 
till a month after, so that I concluded it had miscarried ; 
and ordered my servant to write to the post office to 
enquire of the letter carrier if he had delivered such a 
letter, which enquiry produced me the letter I have not 
done myself the honour to thank you for. 

I thought your brother in all this time would have 
exerted himself so far as to have rode post, and have made 
me a visit for a day or two. This omission I should not 
mention, were it not that once more I will give a little ad- 
vice, since I hear your brother is led hy his attorney, who 
thinks himself wiser than my son. I own I gave a hint that 
I was of the opinion that your brother should have an 
agent, and that Plaxton was not to be left alone in our new 
acquisitions, which was occasioned by my agent's being out 
of town at the time of the Duchess of Albermarle's death -^ 

» " Lady C." Lady Carteret. 

2 " The Duchess of Albemarle's death." This allusion must have been tf) 
Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, widow of Christopher, 2nd Duke of Albemarle, who 
married, secondly, Ralph, 1st Duke of Montague. General Monck, 1st Duke of 
Albemarle, was the son of Elizabeth, (Smythe) wife of Sir Thomas Monck, of 
Potheridge, and sister to Grace, wife of Sir Bevil Granville ; and the Duke of 
Albemarle dying without heirs, these estates were divided between tlie 
Countess Granville, Lord Gowcr, and Mr. Granville, brother of Mra. Pendarvcs. 


and taking immediate possession being absolutely neces- 
sary, we gave a letter of attorney to Plaxton for that pur- 
pose only, but be I soon perceived design' d it was to go 
further, that he was to be the only manager in the affair, 
wliich I could not think proper any more than I now 
do. If we are to be governed by our attorneys, your 
brother's is either a knave or a fool, else he would be 
convinced by my son's judgment, who it is pretty well 
known is master of both law and equity. For that reason 
my Lord Gower and I have referred all matters to him, 
and give your uncle poor Lord Lansdowne his due, he 
never disputed what he determined was to be done for 
our mutual good, without feeing council upon every 
occasion. Had it not been for my son's wise manage- 
ment, we should not have had any part of the Albe- 
marle estates to dispute upon. There is no acting in bu- 
siness, if we can't depend upon one person to direct ; 
lawyers always raise disputes for their own service more 
than for their clients ; attorneys especially take care to 
bring in large bills, so your brother may have the pleasure 
to spend a good deal of money to teach him wit. 

My son, my Lord Gower, and I have not the least in- 
tention to wrong him, but on the contrary to make him 
master of his estate without vexatious delays ; I give you 
free leave to read this to Sir John Stanley as well as your 
brother, and afterwards if I can't prevail if we are not to 
go on in an amicable way, I shall think both the Knight 
and the Esq.^ are of the family of the Wrong-heads. 

I begun upon a great sheet of paper, that I might save 
you postage, but I find I have enlarged so much that I 

1 " Both the Knight and the Squire." Sir John Stanley and Mr. Gran- 


must be forced to send my letter under a cover. When 
I am indifferent to people, I let them go their own 
ways, for it is not my turn to give advice, but your 
brother I have had so much at my heart to see happy, 
that I would not have him take the contrary way to it. 
This is the last time I shall trouble you upon this head, 
so I hope I may be pardoned. I am 

Yours affec®. 
I beg you'll give my humble service to your sister. I 
hope she is quite recovered. I shall make no excuse for 
my blots and mistakes, for I think it is almost a miracle 
that as ill as I am, I have been able to write so long a 
letter. Nothing could have enabled me to do it but pure 
love and kindness to your brother, who I hope will not 
persevere in the wrong, and so break all friendship. My 
son nor I have no intention but to be just to him in 
every particular, and to put him in a right way to make 
himself and his family happy. It's quite silly to mistrust 
one's best friends. 

From Mrs. Pendarves to Dr. Swift. 

May 16, 1735. 


You have never yet put it in my power to accuse 
you of want of civility ; for since my acquaintance with 
you, you have always paid me more than I expected : but 
I may sometimes tax you with want of kindness, which, 
to tell you the truth, I did for a month at least. At last 
I was informed your not writing to me was occasioned by 
your ill state of health : that changed my discontent, but 
did not lessen it, and I have not yet quite determined it 


in my mind, whether I would have you sick or negligent 
of me ; they are both great evils, and hard to choose out 
of — I heartily wish neither may happen. You call your- 
self by a great many ugly names, which I take ill, for I 
never could bear to hear a person I value abused ; I, for 
that reason, must desire you to be more upon your guard, 
when you speak of yourself again ; I much easier forgive 
your caUing me knave and fool. I am infinitely obHged 
to you, for the concern you express for the weakness of 
my eyes — they are now very well ; I have had a much 
greater affliction on my spirits, which prevented my writ- 
ing sooner to you. My sister (the only one I have, and 
an extraordinary darling) has been extremely indisposed 
this whole winter. I have had all the anxiety imaginable 
on her account ; but she is now in a better way, and I 
hope past all danger. 

I would rather tell you somewhat that is pleasant ; but 
how can I? I am just going to lose Mrs. Donellan, and 
that is enough to damp the liveliest imagination : it is 
not easy to express what one feels on such an occasion, 
the loss of an agreeable, sensible, useful companion, gives 
a pain at the heart, not to be described. You happy 
Hibernians, that are to reap the benefit of my distress, 
will hardly think of anything but your own joy, and not 
afford me one grain of pity, — thus tilings are carried in 
tliis world ; the rich forget the poor. 

T am sorry the sociable Thursdays, that used to bring 
together so many agreeable friends at Dr. Delany's, are 
broke up : though Delville has its beauties, yet it is more 
out of the way than Stafford street. I believe you have had 
a quiet winter in Dublin ; not so has it been with us in 
London ; hurry, wrangling, extravagance, and matrimony. 


have reigned with great impetuosity. The newspapers 
I suppose, have mentioned the number of great fortunes 
that are going to be married. 

Our operas have given much cause of dissension ; men 
and women have been deeply engaged ; and no debate in 
the House of Commons has been urged with more warmth : 
the dispute of the merits of the composers and singers is 
carried to so great a height, that it is much feared, by 
all true lovers of music, that operas will be quite over- 
turned. I own I think we make a very silly figure 
about it. I am obliged to you for the two Latin lines in 
your last letter, it gave me a fair pretence of showing the 
1 etter to have them explained, and I have gained no small 
honour by that. I hope, sir, though you threaten me 
with not writing, that you will change your mind ; the 
season of the year will give you spirits, and I shall be 
glad to share the good effects of them. I am, sir, 
Your most obliged humble servant, 

M. Pendarves. 

When you see Mrs. Donellan, she will entertain you 
with a second edition of Fosset, too tedious for a let- 
ter. I have made a thousand blunders, which I am 
ashamed of. 

Mrs. Pendarves was apparently occupied with her sister, and 
under anxiety about her health, from the date of the above letter, 
16th of May, 1735, till the following year, between which periods 
the Editor has no account of her movements, excepting a published 
letter to Dr. Swift of the 8th of November, 1735, dated Paradise, 
in which, after lamenting Dr. Delany's retirement, as he had then 
given up his house in Dublin, she says : — 

" I expected his benevolent disposition would not have suffered 
him to rob his friends of the pleasure and advantage of his company. 


If you have not power to draw him from his solitude, no other 
person can pretend to do it. I was in hopes the weekly meetings 
would have been renewed and continued ; Mrs. Donellan is much 
disappointed, and I fear I am no longer a toast. I am thoroughly 
convinced that a reasonable creature may live with more comfort 
and credit in Dublin than in London, but my lot is thrown on English 
ground, and I have no pretence to fly my countiy ; furnish me 
with one, and you have laid temptations enough in my way to 
make me ready to embrace it" 

She then proceeds to say that Northend has all the advantage of 
the country ; that she takes a great deal of exercise in the morning, 
and in the evening reads aloud ; that she was then reading Beau- 
mont and Fletcher's works, and sometimes a little philosophy, 
Derham's lectures ; and that although many things are too abstruse 
for her in that study, she fancies herself much wiser than she was 
before she begun them, and hopes Dr. Swift will recommend any- 
thing he thinks will be more to her advantage. She expresses her 
pleasure in the promotion of Mrs. Donellan's brother, and says he 
well deserves good fortune, as he ** knows how to enjoy it hand- 
somely, though he scorns to court it meanly." 

Tlie Duchess of Portland to Mrs. Catherine Cdllingwood, next door to 
Mr. Nash's, in St. John's Court, Bath. 

Bullstrode, Dec. 1st, 1735. 

My dearest Catharina will, I am afraid, think I have 
been very long in answering your last letter, but I was 
then in towTi, and this is the first moment I have had 
pen and ink to be able to thank you in best manner I 
am capable of. I wish I could have made my last longer, 
but it was quite impossible ; however T propose this shall 
be very long, and wish it may not quite tire you. You 
are vastly good to express so much satisfaction at the 
receipt of my letters : I am sure they are not worth it, 
and it is only your partiality to me makes you be so 


vastly good. At my return I found Bess^ much improved 
and grown. The Speaker and I are upon the best terms in 
the world, she is to come down here next week. The Tribe 
of Jacob has tried everything to get into favour again, 
but all in vain, for the Speaker will not see them upon any 
account, and I hope she will keep her resolution. All the 
fish that ever swam and all the birds that everfiew, has been 
in town on purpose to see her, and sent word so, but she 
was denied that was the most dangerous person of all, 
for she had never done anything to offend : but I hear 
the Old Haradan and the rest of them talk very furiously 
of your humble servant. Lord Dup does set up for mem- 
ber for Scarborough, and I hope will carry it, for I hear 
the women are mightily charmed with him. 

I am quite astonished you don't know Lady Caroline'^ 
is married, she is quite an old married woman ; — but for 
the future I will write you all the news I hear, so if it is 
old to you it is your own fault. I delivered your message 
to my sister, and she gives her most humble service to you, 
and she longs to hear your story. I want much to hear 
Mrs. Drumond preach, for I have heard so much of her : 
is she pretty or young ? I pity you much for going to the 
play, — I am very well acquainted with the wretchedness of 
the actors ; is not Patt in great joy upon her niece's wed- 
ding ? You could not be in a greater astonishment, than 
I was to hear of Lady Frances Nassau's affair : they are 
not married nor have there been promises, but they used 
to meet at Lady Cowper's, and there have been letters 

^ Lady Elizabeth Bentinck. 

* Married October, 1735, the Earl of Ankram, son to the Marquess of Lothian, 
to the Lady Caroline d'Arcy, sister to the Earl of Holdernes^,— a 20,000/, 
fortune. — Historical Hegister. 


past : I fancy she will marry him when her father is dead. 
Pray has not Lady Bab ManseP a very odd manteel 
and petticoat ? I am not at all surprised Farthing Candle 
is jealous, for I believe she gives him reason enough. 
Pray how does L — Stu — behave ? 1 hear they have the 
finest equipage coming out that ever was seen, the 
harness is to be all solid silver and finely painted, &c. 
I am sorry I can't have any hair {^ bracelets), because I 
promised Lady Bell that she might make them. How- 
ever I beg you will send me one of your hair, with any 
French motto you like best and C.C. upon it^ 

I assure you, the story of Lady Thauet^ diverted me 
highly ; Aspasia^ is just married ; I believe I shall write to 
her, but I am not certain. I hear iny dear motlier is to 
be married to the Duke of Chandois/ How many thou- 
sand and million of graces must she have ! She wrote the 
Speaker word upon the death of the Duchess, that she 
" had lost a counsellor " from God." I hear there was no- 
thing in the quarrel between Lady V. and Mrs. Poultney. 
I had a letter from dear Kitty a little while ago ; she de- 
sired her compliments to you, she is just come to London. 
I never heard Lady L — g M — was either a wit or beauty. 

1 Barbara, only daughter of William, 2nd Earl of Jersey, married first to Sir 
Walter Blackett, Bart., and secondly to Bussey Mansell, 4th Lord Mansell. 

* Sackvile, Earl of Thanet ; married 11th June, 1722, jLady Mary Savile 
youngest daughter of William Marquis of Halifax. Lady Thanet died July 
30, 1751. 

3 "Aspasia." This evidently was not Mary Granville (Mrs. Pendarves) some- 
times called Aspasia by her friends, as she was not going to be married at 
that time. 

* The Duke of Chandos married three times. His second wife died in July, 
1735, and he married for the third time, in April, 1736, Lydia, widow of Sir 
Thomas Davall. This lady was probably designated as " my dear mother" 
which is evidently a cypher, as the Duchess of Portland, could not have meant 
her own mother, Lady Oxford, as Lord Oxford did not die till June, 1741. 


Lord Lovelace^ called upon us last week here ; he is opera 
frmd. The Mrs. Mordaunt I mentioned is Lord Howe's 
aunt, the late lord's sister and Lady Pembroke's and 
Mrs. Page's ; she married Mr. Mordaunt, late Lord Peter- 
borow's nephew. 

We set out last Monday for Acton, where we staid 
till Wednesday mom ; then we went to London ; Thurs- 
day I was at Court, and saw the famous foreigner 
Madame Loos, who is taller by half the head at least 
than Mr. Achard. She was the late King of Poland's 
mistress. There were the eternal courtiers Lady Betty 
Germain and Miss Chambers, who I suppose, is to be 
called so, for I find the match between Lord Vere Beau- 
clerc^ and her is not yet publicly owned ; he was just 
behind her almost the whole time : she looks as yellow 
as a kite's foot. Lord Ancram asked her if her husband 
was there, and she said, ''Yes." Don't you think that 
was odd ? Lord Harvey has the finest set of Egyptian 
pebble teeth as ever you saw ; everybody dresses French. 
Princess Amalie looks as well again, her dress becomes 
her so much better. Lord Rockingham ^ is cried up for a 
great beauty. I think his face would be prettier for a 

1 Nevil Lord Lovelace, Baron of Hurley, Bucks ; died August, 1736. He 
was 2nd and last surviving son of John Lord Lovelace. 

2 Married, July, 1735, Lord Vere Beauclerc, next brother to the Duke of St. 
Albans, to Miss Chambers, eldest daughter of Thomas Chambers, of Hanworth, 
in Middlesex, Esq., — a 20,000/. fortune. — Historical Beg-ister. Lord Vere 
Beauclerc was the 3rd son of the 1st Duke of St. Albans, created in 1750 Lord 
Vere of Hanworth in Middlesex. Miss Chambers was daughter and heiress of 
Thomas Chambers, Esq., of Hanworth, by Lady Mary Berkeley. 

' Lewis Watson, Earl of Rockingham and Viscount Sondes, married in 
April, 1736, Katherine, daughter and co-heir of Sir Robert Furnese, Bart. Lord 
Rockingham died in December, 1745, and was succeeded by his brother 
Thomas, who died in the following February. 


woman ; lie is not so tall as my lord, and very slender, so 
that he looks quite a boy, and he has Lady Mary Sander- 
son's voice. I went that afternoon to Miss Worthy, Lady 
Lewisham, Mrs. Harley, Miss Caesars, and old Franclin, 
and was not from Dover Street one hour ; don't you 
think I was very expeditious ? We set out Friday for 
Acton, where we staid till Saturday ; there was no news 
there, only that Madamoiselle Lissette had a litter of ten 
puppies and was in a likely way to do well. We arrived 
here yesterday about dinner-time, and since that, I heard 
that the great dog has killed the little black boar, so that 
we must get another. I have settled some afiairs in my 
apothecary's shop, and sent for an ounce of tamarinds : 
I am a great doctor, and have cured a poor boy of dropsy. 
The Duke of Marlborough ' has the Lodge in the Little 
Park, and he has made very great improvements there, 
and great plantations — a canall, and a serpentine river, 
and a mount that has cost a vast deal of money. The 
old Duchess came there a little while ago, and brought a 
great many men from London to destroy everything that 
had been done ; pulled up the trees, and cut and hacked 
everything she came near. After that she went to Justice 
Beeves's ; he had pailed in a piece of waste ground that 
was Mr. Topham's, which will be Lord Sidney Beauclerc's 
— she had that pulled down and destroyed, for she said that 
" Sid the beggar nor none of his family should ever be the 

1 Walpole relates that Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, being annoyed at 
her giandson's (the 2nd Duke) n.arriage with the daughter of Lord Trevor, 
who ha<i been a bitter enemy of the great Duke ;— " She turned the Duke out 
of the little Lodge in Windsor Park, and then pretending that the new Duchess 
and her female cousins (eight Trevors) had stripped the house and garden, 
she had a puppet-show made with waxen figures, representing the Trevors 
tearing up the shrubs, and the Duchess carrying off the chicken-coop under 
her arm." 

VOL. I. 2 N 


better for her," and told the justice " he might go to law 
about it if he pleased." 

1 am told the Duchess of Manchester ^ has returned the 
diamond girdle buckle that the Duke of Bedford sent 
her, as from his Duchess ^ and him. Before she died, 
she desired he would keep that for a Greorge. He said 
as he had given it to her, he desired she would give it 
away, and mentioned the Duchess of Manchester : she said 
" pray give it her." The Duchess of Manchester said she 
would have taken it from the Duchess of Bedford if she 
had left it her, but not from him : this is I suppose to 
please her old granny. 

Old Lady Dysart ^ is married, or going, to Mr. Warren, 
Lord Cullin's uncle ; she is above ninety years old ! 
Mrs. Houblon is coming to town to buy a house, but 
I have no sort of correspondence with her, nor have 
ever seen her since that day we were together. Miss 
Vernon chose to be married of a Saturday to avoid 
drums and trumpets, went to Surrey on Sunday morn- 
ing, would have no fine clothes and refused all jewels ; 
Miss Harcourt went down with her to stay a little 
while. Lord Harcourt ■* assures his grandmother she 
will much approve of his choice of a wife when 

* Isabella, daughter of John Duke of Montague, married William, 2nd 
Duke of Manchester. 

2 Died September, 1734, at Southampton House, Bloomsbury Square, in 
the 26th year of her age, of a consumption, the most noble Diana, Duchess of 
Bedford, &c., sister to the present Duke of Marlborough, youngest daughter to 
the late Karl of Sunderland, and grand-daughter to her Grace the Duchess- 
dowager of Marlborough. Her husband was John, ith Duke of Bedford. 

» Married December, 1735, the Right Hon. the Countess-dowager of Dysart, 
to Warren, of Cheshire, Esq. — Historical Register. 

* Simon Lord Harcourt, married, in October, 1735, Rebecca, sole daughter 
and heir of Charles le Bas, of Pipwell Abbey, in Northamptonshire. He was 
created Earl Harcourt on Dec. 1, 1749. 


she is acquainted with her : he says she has very 
§:ood sense and nature, speaks French, plays on the 
harpsichord, and sings well. He has two French cooks, 
and his liveries are very handsome. I saw him at 
Court, I think he is vastly altered — he looks rakish. 
Mrs. Stanley has been reported to be married to Lord 
Delawar,' and likewise Miss Edwin, but it was founded 
on no other reason than their being much with his 
wife. Lady Salisbury- has given Lady Sondes' share 
of the Duchess of Albemarle's estate to Mr. Watson. 
Poor Sir George Savile ^ is quite mad : he goes about the 
country and tells everybody that his wife has desired 
him to forgive her, and he said indeed he had forgiven 
her four times already. 

Bishop Cecil* was married at Hatfield to Mrs. Lum- 
ley. Sir James's sister — her fortune 8000/. It was 
talked of in company that it was a very improper match 
— that it was wrong to them both : a lady said she 
was quite of another mind ; she thought it a very proper 
match as could be. " Why, madam, do you think so." 
"Why?" answered the lady, "because if they did not 
marry one another nobody else would have them." If you 

* John, 7th Lord Delawarr, married, first, Cliarlotte, daughter of the Earl of 
Clancarty, who died February, 1735. Lord Delawarr married, secondly, Anne, 
daughter of Edward Thomicroft, Esq., but the date of this marriage is not 
given by Burke or Collins. 

2 Lady Anne Tufton, daughter of the Earl of Thanet, married James, Earl, 
of Salisbury ; and her sister. Lady Catherine Tufton, married Edward, Lord 
Viscount Sondes, son and heir to Lewis "Watson, Earl of Rockingham. Their 
mother Lady Thanet, and the Duchess of Albemarle were both daughters of 
Cavendish Duke of Newcastle. 

3 Sir George Savile, of Rufford, in Nottinghamshire, married, in 1722, 
Mary, daughter of John Pratt, Esq., of Dublin. Sir George died, Sept. 16, 
1743, and was succeeded by his son George. 

* Married November, 1735, Dr. Cecil, Bishop of Bangor, to Miss Lumley, 
sister to Sir James Lumlev, Bart. 

2n 2 


have not heard the dialogue between Mr. Eyre and Mr. 
Dartiguenave/ I fancy it will divert j^ou : — 

Mr. Ey : Sir, I come to wait upon you to make my 
addresses to your daughter to marry her. — Mr. Da : Sir, 
what do you mean ? Marry my daughter. Sir ; you had 
better marry Mr. such-a-one's daughter, or Mrs. such-a 
one's daughter. — Mr. Ey : Indeed, sir, I desire your 
daughter. — Mr. Da : Really, sir, I tell you my daughter 
is very cross ^ very untoward, and you had better go some- 
where else ; I suppose you think my daughter will be a very 
great fortune ? No ; I tell you I will give her 2500^., and 
no more. — Mr. Ey : Very well, sir ; I accept it, sir : will 
you give us leave to live with you ? — Mr. Da : No. What ! 
give my daughter 2500/. and let her live with me, no, no ! 

So ended the first meeting, and they are since married. 
Her mother treats her the same way. She wondered 
*' how anybody would marry her daughter." She was 
visiting, and talking of her daughter she said, " Please 
God, as long as she had her limbs she would keep her in 
order." The lady asked what she meant ? " Why I knocked 
her down just as I came out to wait on you." 

I think Mr. Eyre was a ve^y bold man to venture on 
lier, except he designed to make her his stepping-stone to 
heaven? I am really afraid I have quite tired your 
patience. Pray let me know how Mrs. Collingwood is ; 
my compliments attend her. I expect a very very long 
letter in answer to this. My Lord and Frere Bonavan- 
ture, desire their humble service to j'ou. 

I am, my dearest Doctor, 

Yours most affectionately till death. 

' Charles Dartiguenave was Paymaster of the Board of Works, and Surveyor 
of the Royal Gardens and Waters, in 1726.